Anne Winchell - The Last War

Lethe seemed lost in thought and Atheus refused to meet Medane’s gaze. After a long pause, Lethe crossed his hands and leaned back in his chair. Medane and Atheus turned to look at him and Medane knew Atheus was filled with as much fear as he was. Lethe’s pale brown skin matched his pale eyes perfectly, and his face was sculpted perfection. He had not aged at all since first opening his eyes forty-nine years ago.

“The new díamont must be primarily human,” Lethe said. “I would know if another true díamont had been created. I can destroy díamonts.” Lethe lifted his hand as if in illustration and Medane and Atheus flinched. “I can weaken this new díamont and prevent him from becoming a díamont, but I do not kill humans.”

“So you can make this threat human again, and we can destroy it?” Atheus asked.

Lethe nodded. Atheus appeared relieved, probably because no mention had been made of finding out who created the díamont in the first place. Medane wondered if creating primarily human díamonts violated any of the carefully constructed treaties. Lethe was designed to implement all of the treaties, so he would know better than anyone if a law had been broken.

“Thank you,” Medane said. “I have someone—a human—who I believe can infiltrate the resistance movement and locate the díamont. Once we find out who the díamont is, I can bring him to you.”

“With all due respect, Medane,” Atheus said with a sneer, “I doubt a human of yours will be able to handle a díamont.”

Medane nearly smiled. Now that Atheus’ fear about being caught by Lethe had vanished, the arrogant bastard was already trying to take over the meeting and the mission. Normally Medane would yield and let Atheus lead, but if Atheus really were the creator of the díamont, then it was probable that the díamont would vanish before Lethe could destroy it.

“My human has a much better understanding of my country than any Westerner would,” Medane said. “I have complete faith in him.”

“How long will it take?” Lethe asked.

“A week.”

Medane hoped that was the truth. The human in question, a former resistance fighter who called himself Raven, had a fierce independent streak and had vanished two days ago. Not for the first time Medane wondered if he needed to be stricter with him. To Raven, Medane was a boss and nothing more, but to Medane, Raven was almost like a son and the thought of restricting Raven’s movement and freedom went against the love and respect Medane had for the man.

“Who is he?”

Atheus’ question sounded casual but Medane knew what he was asking. Atheus may or may not have been trying to create díamonts, but it was no secret that Atheus had led a research team devoted to breeding superhumans.

The project had been around for nearly a hundred years before Atheus took it over, and Atheus had hoped to create an extremely powerful army with the breeding subjects. Medane had assisted, in the hope that the army would be used for peacekeeping. Even Lethe had allowed the project to continue until a plague killed nearly all of the subjects. Lethe officially closed the project, but Atheus gathered the few survivors to see if one more generation would create the perfect balance between strength and adaptability. Two children were born, as genetically different as humanly possible yet both possessing incredible strength, speed, and stamina. One of the children, the boy, vanished around age six. Atheus always accused Medane of kidnapping the boy. Medane never directly denied it. He viewed it as saving the boy’s life; Atheus saw it as theft. This was the real question Atheus was asking, and for the first time Medane acknowledged Raven’s true identity.

“My human goes by Raven, and he is a product of the superhuman research.”

Atheus’ eyes narrowed and he was about to speak when Lethe lifted his hand. “There is also the question of how the díamont was created.”

Fearful silence fell as Lethe studied both of them. “Medane will find the rogue díamont and bring him to me. I will wait until then to decide whether or not any laws have been violated. Until then, I will be at the embassy. Atheus, I expect you to remain in NeoLondon until I have made my decision.”

Medane let out a sigh and stood, showing the two men out without another word. Atheus glared at him but didn’t dare speak in front of Lethe. At least they would have time to understand the new threat before their lives would end, Medane thought.

Only a sliver of the Earth was lit by sunlight in the moon colony’s observation deck and Kaela took a few minutes to admire the sight before continuing her patrol of the science stations. The dark phase would begin in a few hours; two weeks of the moon colony facing away from the sun. Most tourists left during this phase, but Kaela thought it was the most beautiful time in space. Without the sun’s glare, stars were brilliantly visible and the Earth glowed with reflected light.

Kaela often stared at her planet and traced the outlines of the Pacific coast in the privacy of her room. She didn’t want anyone to know how much she missed her life on Earth. Her boss Atheus had given her a pardon and a new life here and she couldn’t appear ungrateful, but she had spent the last eight years trapped here and she missed being surrounded by new people and fresh air.

Kaela began her rounds without thinking, checking in each lab as she passed, nodding at the familiar faces inside and giving them tacit permission to continue whatever illegal operations they were conducting. She exchanged smiles with a doctor who had been smuggled off Earth after publicly commending Nazi research techniques in the Second War. She didn’t know what he did here but secretly she hoped his statement had been taken out of context and he was trying to find cures for recent super viruses. She knew this was a false hope. The whole reason Atheus had built the moon colony was to give science a place to develop without ethical or moral boundaries or laws.

The lower security areas were clear, as usual. There was no reason any tourist would want to visit and very few ways to end up here by accident. The only danger was that a reporter from the press conference would try to sneak in and gather information. Kaela hated having representatives from the largest news outlets so close to the research centers, but the reporters were easy enough to spot in their dark grey jackets and bright yellow press tags.

The research centers were plain white structures with black windows running from shoulder-height to the ceiling. The entire complex had a uniform design and was unmistakably different than the sprawling spheres that held living quarters and tourist attractions. Kaela paused at the entrance to the high security area, which was distinguished by a slim red line dividing the white wall and black windows. She opened a hidden keypad in the wall and checked for activity. Eighteen people had entered the area in the past six hours and four people had left. Normal numbers for the day before a dark phase, Kaela thought, and slid the cover shut on the keypad.

Even though this area was supposed to be Kaela’s primary concern, she spent as little time in the heightened security area as possible. She had been shocked to learn that Atheus’ main project on the moon was research on creating and destroying díamonts. It violated the essential terms of the Sydney Accord, negotiated to end the Last War and prevent another. If she told anyone about the research, war would break out, but if the research began producing results, an even worse disaster might occur. It was easiest to let the research continue, Kaela frequently assured herself. Her job was to protect the scientists so that they could study unhindered. Her job was not to make moral judgments on their work.