Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(79)

I knew what Ilya had done. I also knew that Katya and Sergei wept because of it. The images were everywhere, after all, of Ilya murdering world leaders.

My vision blurred after a moment; I realized I was weeping, too.

I was still sobbing when the missiles launched from a U.S. silo that ended up obliterating Russia and the Middle East.

*

Gerrett

Bekzi made sure I understood the languages on the news programs, so he wouldn't have to interpret them for me. All of it was terrible, and Katya suffered most from seeing her father listed as a murderous assassin on every major continent.

I understood what had happened—perhaps better than anyone else at the villa. I carried an obsession, after all. Rafe—he carried many. They'd taken away every scrap of will he had and replaced it with their own—this nameless, faceless Sirenali.

I clenched my fists in fury as the images played across the screen. This one, whomever he was—he was like my mother. Conniving. Hungry for power and wealth. Using others as tools to get those things while accepting no blame themselves.

"The words—they die with Elemaiya," Bekzi murmured.

I turned to him quickly and blinked.

How? I sent.

"I know they use words—transfer you to new master," Bekzi said. "Those words—they dead now. With Elemaiya. You free. Corinne—she make sure," he said. "When time to go, I take you, too."

I didn't say it, but in my heart, I wanted to go with Corinne. No matter where she intended to go. She pulled at me in a way I couldn't deny.

Bekzi snorted. I feel same, he sent.

*

Corinne

There is a star system less than sixty light-years from Earth, with an inhabited planet. Yes, they'd discovered coffee there, too, only they served it much darker and stronger than most of Earth's continents did.

I'd employed power to dilute it first, then added hot milk and vanilla syrup before attempting to drink. I sipped coffee while extending my vision to witness the destruction of Earth.

Yes, I still felt like crying. The remnants of humanity attempted to dig out of the rubble left behind, while many of them sickened and died of radiation poisoning. The climate had been altered, too, so that poisoned rain fell, killing plants and animals alike.

I was surprised that I hadn't heard from Val or any other Larentii, but I probably would soon enough. I had a game plan, now, and my first action would draw an outcry from anyone with blue skin.

I wanted to send an "I love you," to Val, but that could reveal my whereabouts. I couldn't take any chances from now on; the plan was about to be activated and I wouldn't be able to stop once it was in motion.

Draining my cup, I rose with a sigh and placed a credit token on the cafe table. The server would never know I'd altered their coffee to render it drinkable to me. They'd also never realize that a Larentii sat at their table, casually considering how to rewrite history with the fewest strokes possible.

Taking a deep breath, I bent time to arrive at a certain missile silo in the U.S. No, I didn't intend to stop the first wave of missiles. Or the second or third, for that matter.

No.

I needed to find the Lyristolyi, and I knew where and when they'd be at the silo. I intended to read them, before bending time again and making them very, very dead. They—and the one or ones who sent them, had become my first targets.





Chapter 17

Corinne

I found I'd arrived a few minutes early. Shielding myself from the sight of silo personnel, I watched as they busied themselves with routine checks and communications.

Until the Lyristolyi arrived and put a stop to it by killing all of them.

It won't matter, I kept telling myself as shots were fired and blood spilled.

One member of the Lyristolyi team—one I did and didn't expect—kept himself away from the violence and huddled against a wall before pulling out a comp-vid and avoiding the massacre by reading a book.

His name was Morrett, he was Sirenali and I sympathized with his plight.

Like Gerrett, he was mute. Like Gerrett—they were kin. Brothers. Gerrett had never said the name of his brother. I knew it now, just by looking at him. Reading him.

Forcing my eyes away, I turned to the wizard employed by the Lyristolyi.

Wymarr Belancour.

Grasping.

Ambitious.

I'd feel no grief allowing him to die with the others.

Just not yet.

I turned to Fisk Boralus, then. He was operating under the direction of Geethe Cheriss, Prime Potentate of Lyristolys. There were no rogues, here. These were undercover agents who knew exactly what they were doing.

They'd done it before, after all.

They were experts in making it look as if worlds had destroyed themselves, when in actuality, they'd initiated conflict and let nature take its course. There was nothing noble in them or their cause—what they'd accomplished so far could have been done easier and with far less bloodshed.

What I searched for last was dates and times—when they'd appear at a convenient place for me to meet up with them.

All part of my plan.

The only one I'd allow to live afterward was Morrett.

I merely had to decide where to send him, so he'd be safest and most effective. It'll come to me, I promised myself and folded space.

*

Opal