Avalon

CHAPTER 32

ONCE, WHEN JETH WAS SEVEN, HE SPENT THREE DAYS IN bed sick with the flu. It was the worst he’d ever felt in his life, as if his body had forgotten what it was and how it was supposed to behave. Food made his stomach clench. Any liquid at all set his throat to burning. His head felt like he was wearing it inside out.

Yet despite his misery during that time, his strongest memory was of the way his mother had cared for him. How she had stroked his face with a warm cloth whenever he finished vomiting or smiled down at him as she adjusted the pillows behind his head, pulling the covers over his body as he shivered with fever. He remembered the soft, lulling sound of her voice as she read aloud to him stories of other little boys having adventures, gallivanting around the universe in starships or exploring a jungle teeming with tigers and lions.

She had made those three days bearable. And it was only the memory of her that kept him sane now.

Five days I’ve been locked in here, Jeth thought, running his gaze over the empty, oppressive walls. Maybe six. He’d spent the last hour trying to figure it out for sure. They’d been feeding him at regular intervals, twice a day, as far as he could tell. It was so hard to be certain, though. After the torture, they’d brought him back here, where he’d slept for hours and hours, a bone-deep fatigue settling over him like an iron blanket. Only now was the tiredness finally starting to fade. His muscles still ached as if from strenuous exercise.

Five days, maybe six.

The knowledge of how much time had passed, how close he was to the end, made him want to stand up and pace the length of the cell, but he knew better. He would need all his energy when they came for him.

The waiting was even worse than the torture. He’d spent his waking moments the last few days hoping for some word from Sierra, some sound of tapping on the walls as she prepared to bust him out. He wanted it so badly he’d even started imagining sounds.

Five days. Maybe six.

Had it been that long? It had to be. He was sure of it.

Which means I’m eighteen now.

And old enough for an implant.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the cell, trying to figure out what to do, worry over when they would come driving him mad.

Click.

Jeth opened his eyes, and in a grip of panic he jumped up, his muscles screaming from the sudden movement.

For a moment he was sure he’d imagined it, but then the door slid open. Dax stood in the doorway, smiling in at him. In a second, all the tiredness and ache left Jeth’s body, replaced by rage-fueled adrenaline. He leaped toward Dax, right fist clenched and arm swinging. He would bash the smile off his face.

Dax ducked at the last second and jammed his shoulder into Jeth’s stomach, flipping him over. Jeth landed on his back, gasping for air.

Two pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms and hauled him to his feet. Jeth tried to pull away from them, but like all of Hammer’s Brethren, these two were large and burly.

Dax faced Jeth, shaking his head. “You need to learn how to pick your battles, Golden Boy.”

“No, I need to learn not to trust assholes like you.” Jeth’s voice came out rough from disuse.

Dax chuckled. “That too.” He waved at the Brethren holding Jeth. “Bring him along. Hammer’s waiting to see him.”

The Brethren pushed Jeth down the corridor after Dax. Jeth expected to be taken back to the interrogation room, but Dax turned in the opposite direction. Questions darted through Jeth’s mind. Where were Lizzie and Cora? Was Sierra still here? Did the others leave on Avalon?

He knew there was little point asking for information from a proven liar, but he couldn’t help himself. “Where’s my crew?”

Dax looked over his shoulder. “Gone. Except for Lizzie. They flew out of here almost a week ago, aboard Avalon.”

Jeth wanted desperately to believe it. “Milton, Celeste, Shady, and Flynn?”

“Yep,” said Dax, turning back around. “And Vince, too. Just like Renford promised Sierra. You, Sierra, Lizzie, and Cora are the only ones still here.”

Despite his better instincts, Jeth believed him. Dax had no reason to lie, not about this, and not now. He tried to draw as much comfort as he could from knowing that some of them had made it out, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to be nearly enough to see him through what was coming.

As they walked, Jeth focused on his surroundings, trying to put their path and how many people they passed to memory. The ship seemed as big as a city, populated with nothing but ITA soldiers and the Malleus Brethren and Guard. Each time Jeth’s gaze fell on an implant—black or clear—a jolt of fear went through him.

They entered an elevator that must’ve been designed as a showpiece for the cruise line customers the Strata was originally intended for. It was made entirely of glass, with edges gilded in burnished gold. Although the front side of the elevator looked out onto only the elevator shaft, the back displayed a constantly shifting view of the ship. Jeth angled his head toward it, watching the decks slip by.

After a few moments, the view opened up onto a massive flight deck filled with armored spaceships and short-range shuttles. Jeth scanned for any sign of Avalon, finding none. That was good. For a moment, his whole body ached with his desire to be back on his ship and far, far away from here.

They exited the elevator onto C Deck, making a left and navigating several corridors before finally coming to a stop outside a door marked C-19. Two more Brethren stood in front of it, and they bowed their heads in deference to Dax.

The door opened a moment later, and Dax entered. Jeth stayed put until the guards pushed him forward. He blinked as he stepped in, his eyes needing to adjust to the dim light that seemed as dark as a cave compared to the brightness of the corridor.

He was in what looked like the living room of a large, luxurious hotel suite. Then he realized that was exactly what it was, a stateroom designed for wealthy cruise ship patrons. The décor was completely to Hammer’s taste, decadent to the point of gaudiness, with thick green carpeting and plush leather seats in between marble-topped tables.

Hammer was sitting on the nearest chair, leaning back with one tree-trunk sized leg folded over the other. Standing over him, like the world’s biggest servant boy, was Sergei.

“Ah, Jeth, welcome at last,” Hammer said, waving at him. “And might I add congratulations as well. It’s not every day you turn eighteen and officially become an adult.”

Like I was ever a child, Jeth thought but didn’t say. He didn’t think he was capable of speech, for his gaze had just fallen on the two small cases sitting on the table in front of Hammer. He knew well what they contained.

“So I take it you and Renford haven’t killed each other yet?” Jeth said, keeping his fear in check. “What a shame.”

Hammer chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many differences can be set aside in order to achieve something as great as this venture.”

Jeth rolled his eyes, sarcasm the only self-defense mechanism left to him. “You’re not about to give me that crap about how the world will be so much better once you’ve brought down the ITA, are you?”

“Oh, but it will be,” Hammer said, his piggy eyes gleaming. “Even someone as young and undereducated as you must have realized the kind of power the ITA holds. Did you know they refuse to sell metatech to certain planets based entirely on race? Whole groups of people have been locked down by the ITA to prevent them from spreading their culture anywhere else in the galaxy. To keep them from infecting others with their unacceptable ideals.”

“As if you’ll be any different. All you care about is wielding that same power yourself.”

Hammer shrugged. “Perhaps. But at least I won’t use it so indiscriminately. The only people who will suffer under my rule are those that deserve it.”

Jeth almost laughed. It was so absurd. As if Hammer was fit to dole out justice and punishment. As if he would be any different from the ITA at all. No. He would be them all over again, only worse. Nobody should hold that much power. Those planets, those people should be free to govern themselves, to come and go as they please.

And so should I.

“However,” Hammer went on, “I didn’t summon you here to talk business. At least not that business. But I’m sure you’ve guessed the reason already.” His eyes flicked to the cases on the table, his expression daring Jeth to deny it.

Jeth didn’t even consider playing dumb. If this was the end of the line, he would hold on to what remained of his pride and dignity. He had a feeling there wouldn’t be much of it on the other side of what he was facing. “Oh, I know all right.”

“Yes, I thought so.” Hammer stood and bent toward the table, picking up both cases in his massive hands.

“Do I still get a choice then?” Jeth said, hoping that he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. If he was to be made Brethren instead of Guard, there was still a chance he could save Lizzie and Cora, even his mother. And there was a chance some small part of who he was would remain intact.

Hammer stared at him for a long time. A trickle of sweat slipped between Jeth’s shoulder blades and down his back, soaking the waistband of his pants.

Finally Hammer shook his head. “It pains me to say it, but no. The choice is gone. I gave you a chance to prove your loyalty once already and you failed the test. You should never have believed that Dax would keep your plan from me. He knows the true meaning of loyalty. I also don’t believe that you’ll behave any differently in the future. And, well, you’ve become a liability to my new business venture.”

Jeth’s heart hammered in his ears like rapid missile fire. The two cases had been a show, a final act of humiliation designed to give Hammer the satisfaction of winning.

Again.

The sudden, sure realization that everything he knew and cared for was about to end hit Jeth, and he almost swayed beneath the rush of terror. He wanted to cling to every precious second left to him, which he could feel slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“What do you mean, a liability?” he managed to say at last.

“Your sisters, of course. I’m quite certain that, even if you did feel some genuine loyalty to me, it wouldn’t remain in the face of what awaits them.”

Jeth held his breath, fear turning to outrage.

“Normally,” Hammer continued, “I would offer you a lifetime guarantee of their safety and well-being in exchange for your loyal service. It’s an effective bargain, as I’m sure Daxton here can attest to. Isn’t that right, Dax?”

Jeth risked a glance and saw Dax bristling beneath the outward mask of calm and compliance he wore. So, the story was true. Not that it mattered.

Then again, maybe it did matter, just not in the way Jeth had thought. Hammer was right; he should’ve realized Dax would never show any disloyalty while his brother remained in danger. Even if Dax did sympathize with Jeth’s plight, in the end he would always chose to protect his family over anyone else. Jeth couldn’t blame him for that. He would’ve done the same.

But just because he understood what Dax had done didn’t mean he was going to lie down and take this, either. If I’m gonna die anyway . . .

Jeth leaped sideways, going for the gun strapped in a holster on Dax’s hips. His fingers closed around the hilt, and he bent his knees, ready to roll and come up firing.

A foot struck him in the back. Jeth heard Sergei’s laugh as he fell. But Jeth still had the gun. He clambered to his knees, struggling to release the safety in time to fire. His body was so tired from the torture, his fingers clumsy.

Hammer kicked the gun out of Jeth’s hand with an almost lazy motion. A furious howl tore from Jeth’s throat, and he flung himself after the gun, heedless of the stinging in his knuckles or the danger posed by the giant man looming above him.

“Get him,” Hammer said.

Dax planted a knee in Jeth’s back, pinning him as Sergei came over to help. Together they hoisted Jeth to his feet. Hammer opened one of the cases, revealing the clear-colored implant. He set the other case aside.

“Put him on his knees,” Hammer said.

Sergei and Dax forced Jeth down, pulling his arms behind him so he had no choice but to lean forward.

Hammer took a step closer. “Bend his head.”

Jeth fought the hands pushing his chin toward his chest. His neck muscles screamed as he strained against the inevitable force.

“Hold him still.”

Jeth felt the point of the needle touch the back of his skull, probing for the architecture. His hair had grown enough to obscure the opening.

He closed his eyes, still refusing to give up the fight even as a voice whispered over and over in his mind—This is it. The end, the end, the end. This is it.

BOOM!

The room shook so hard pictures fell from the walls and a decanter of liquor on a nearby table plummeted to the floor, shattering. The pressure on Jeth’s arms loosened as Dax and Sergei were knocked off balance.

“Something hit us,” said Hammer.

The ship rocked again with another fierce blast.

“We’re under attack,” Sergei said.

“That’s impossible,” said Hammer. Yet even before he finished speaking, they heard the unmistakable sound of distant gunfire.

Jeth pushed against the hands holding his head, and this time they gave way. He looked up at Hammer’s annoyed expression.

“I can’t get a straight answer from anyone,” Hammer said, touching the back of his head where the red implant sat nestled against his neck. He motioned to Sergei. “Go find out what’s happening. Take the others with you. Dax and I will finish here.”

Sergei let go of Jeth’s arm at once and trotted from the room, drawing the gun from his belt. Before Jeth had a chance to react, Dax grabbed him by his wrists and lifted his arms again, forcing him to bend forward.

“Hold him,” Hammer said, stepping near.

Jeth struggled, but it was no good. Whatever was happening outside wasn’t going to get here in time to save him.

Once the implant is inserted, it can never be removed.

Hammer finally found the hole in Jeth’s skull. The touch of the implant’s stem against the architecture sent a wave of pain cascading down his spine, the feeling intensified by his terror.

He closed his eyes and stopped struggling.

The end, the end, the end.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.

This time the sound wasn’t from outside the ship, but close, the loud eruption of gunfire. The door slid open and more bullets ripped through the air. The hands holding Jeth released him, and he fell forward, his face smacking the ground. He rolled over at once, his mind and body focusing instinctively.

Two people charged into the room—Sierra and Lizzie, both armed. No time for relief, Jeth jumped at Hammer, who’d been shot in the arm. He grabbed the gun from Hammer’s holster, released the safety, and racked the slide in one smooth motion. Then he pressed the barrel to Hammer’s temple.

Hammer froze, a big man reduced to cowering. He raised his hands in surrender. Do it now! a voice screamed in Jeth’s mind. Finish this. Once and for all. It would be so easy, a slight increase in pressure and the bullet would eject from the barrel, tearing a death hole through the man’s brain.

“Don’t, Jeth,” Sierra said, panic in her voice.

Jeth glanced over his shoulder, keeping his hand steady even as a shudder went through him at the sight awaiting him. Dax had somehow managed to capture Lizzie and was now holding her in front of him like a shield, a gun pressed against her neck

Stalemate.

“Let go of Hammer,” Dax said. His face was pale but his eyes hard and steady. He looked like he was having trouble standing. Jeth glanced down and saw blood pooling on the floor at Dax’s feet. He must’ve taken a bullet in the leg.

Jeth froze, unable to move. Sierra had her gun aimed at Dax, but she had no angle to take him out. Not without hitting Lizzie too.

“I mean it, Jeth,” Dax said. “I will kill her.”

“Shoot him,” Lizzie said, her terrified gaze fixed on Jeth.

But he couldn’t risk it. Maybe if he already had his gun pointed the right direction. But if he wasn’t fast enough, if his aim was off . . . None of this will matter if Lizzie dies.

“Why do you want to save him even after all he’s done to you?” Jeth said.

Dax shook his head, the action oddly jerky, as if he’d developed some kind of nervous twitch.

“Don’t deny it. I know the story you told me is true. Think about your brother. If we kill Hammer, he’ll be free.”

“No,” Dax said. “Keeping Hammer safe is the only way to save him. The only way.” Even Dax’s voice had developed a kind of twitch.

Understanding clicked in Jeth’s mind. He glanced at the red implant in Hammer’s skull. It was the master implant, the one that controlled all the others. He reached for it, meaning to yank it out of Hammer’s head.

The motion brought him in too close. Hammer lunged forward, snatching the gun from Jeth’s hand and knocking him over.

Before Jeth could recover his feet, Hammer had the barrel pressed against his forehead.

“Get on your knees and put your hands on top of your head,” Hammer said.

Jeth did so, turning his gaze toward Lizzie, who was still trapped in Dax’s hold.

Hammer motioned to Sierra. “And you. Put the gun on the floor and get on your knees, too. We both know you’re not going to let anything happen to Jeth.”

Sierra hesitated, then did as Hammer ordered, kneeling down next to Jeth.

Hammer bent toward her, grabbed her ponytail, and twisted the blonde strands around his hand. He yanked her head back, forcing her gaze up to his. “If I wasn’t so concerned about keeping things smooth with Renford, I would kill you.” Then he let go of her hair and shoved her forward. He stepped on her back. “Stay down, why don’t you?” Hammer waved at Dax. “Bring Lizzie over here and put her in front of her brother. I want her to have a front row seat for this.”

Dax pushed Lizzie forward. He seemed to be using her as a crutch as he limped along.

“Don’t do this, Dax,” Jeth said. “Don’t be like him. Help us.”

Hammer chuckled. “Nice try, but Dax is Brethren. His loyalty belongs to me.”

“His loyalty is forced by that implant,” Jeth said. “Fight it, Dax. Do it for your brother. Help us.”

In response, Dax pushed Lizzie down to her knees in front of Jeth, his actions in perfect obedience to Hammer’s will.

“Now come around and hold Jeth still,” Hammer said, stepping away from Sierra.

Dax shuffled over, leaving blood splatters on the floor. If he would just pass out, Jeth thought. They could easily overtake Hammer.

Outside in the hall, the noise of shouting and gunfire was growing louder, and every few minutes the ship shook as if struck by missile fire.

Dax holstered his gun and grabbed Jeth by the wrists again, pushing him forward. His grip wasn’t as strong as last time but powerful enough to do the job. For the third time, Jeth felt the stem of the implant prod the hole of the architecture. The pressure against his skull grew stronger as Hammer began to force the thing in.

Then, without warning, Dax’s grip on his wrists let go. Jeth fell forward as a wet, sucking noise sounded behind him. Jeth clambered to his feet and spun around to see that Dax had yanked the red implant out of Hammer’s skull.

Hammer blinked dazedly, as if he couldn’t understand what had happened. Jeth punched him in the face, throwing the full force of his body into it. The big man stumbled backward, blood bursting from his nose.

Dax caught Hammer before he could fall and held him there long enough to grab the clear-colored implant still hanging loose in Hammer’s hand. Then Dax pushed Hammer down into a kneeling position.

Jeth stood there, transfixed by the scene unfolding before him as if in slow motion. Dax raised the clear-colored implant to Hammer’s head, his body no longer shaking. Then he thrust it downward.

Hammer’s eyes went wide with shock. It lasted only a moment and then his gaze turned hollow, his expression slackening into the dulled features of catatonia.

Dax let go, shoving Hammer forward onto his face where he continued to lay, stupid and unmoving.

Jeth stared down at the back of Hammer’s head, mere millimeters from his feet. The implant writhed a moment around Hammer’s skull, as if adjusting to its new home.

It’s over, Jeth realized. The big man was no more.

He tore his gaze away from the sight, certain he would be sick if he watched any longer. He stepped back for good measure and then turned to Lizzie, helping her to stand. He pulled her into a fierce hug.

“It’s done,” Dax said, a tremble in his voice. Jeth looked at him and saw Dax was holding the red implant, examining it with something like wonderment on his face. “Finally over.”

Jeth let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you. For doing that.”

Dax looked up, as if surprised to find he wasn’t alone. He nodded. “You were right. Hammer always enforced my loyalty with this.” He reached up with his other hand and removed his black Brethren implant, tossing it aside. “I’m sorry for handing you over to him, but I didn’t have a choice. There was only ever one way to defeat Hammer. By taking this.” Dax held up the red implant like a trophy. Then he lowered his hand toward the back of his head in a gesture Jeth knew well enough by now.

“What are you doing?” Jeth said, moving to stop him.

But it was too late. Dax thrust the red implant into his skull.

No one moved or spoke for several long seconds afterward. Dax simply stood there with his eyes closed. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Outside, the fighting had at last arrived at their door.

Finally, Dax opened his eyes and stared at the three of them. Jeth could tell he was a changed man. A hard, deadly glint shone in his eyes. He looked like an animal gone feral. Jeth swallowed, any relief he had felt at seeing the end of Hammer evaporating fast. He didn’t know what exactly that implant did, but he knew for certain it wasn’t anything good.

“Get out of here,” Dax said to Jeth. “Find Cora and make your escape. I’ll order my men to leave you alone.”

My men. Dax was the new Hammer.

Jeth nodded. Then he, Lizzie, and Sierra each grabbed a gun and disappeared through the door, leaving Dax alone with whatever remained of Hammer Dafoe.