At Mach 3, the Mojave passed far below in a blur of yellows and browns. Madelyne Reese had 500 hours in her Dagger and 200 spent in border recon. She knew the colors of the world below.

“You reading anything new, Yukon?” A voice spoke out of her helmet comm. She couldn’t see her wingman in his Dagger that mimicked her motions.

“Nothing yet, Toucan,” Reese answered. “And still no reply from our friends at the Promontory.”

“Copy,” Toucan answered. “I see nothing but dirt and dirt and look! Over there, we’ve got some more dirt. They didn’t get this far.”

“Good. You don’t want that Starbird carrier here.” Reese led them lower toward the surface. The fighter’s complex inertial systems made the ship’s canopy look more like a simulator than an actual transparent window. She felt almost no motion, none of the forces she’d known behind the stick training in an F-15. Even skimming the jagged mountain ridge beside her only sent a small kick through her shoulders. “Your Mama was still breastfeeding you the last time those ships were in the sky.”

“That’s right,” Toucan laughed. “I was fifteen. Mama didn’t wean me till she taught me to drive. Good thing…” There was a pop of static and Reese cringed.

“Quit sucking your microphone.” She kept the Dagger steady. The mountains stretched far ahead like high, stone vertebrae. “Your mama didn’t do a very good job weaning you, did she?”

“I’m reading something, Yukon.” Toucan spoke with no humor. “Check heat scan again. I’m getting something.”

“Right.” Reese hit the scanner toggle with her fingertips. The cockpit HUD lit red like the entire mountainside glowed beside them. Something waited down there, power, energy, heat enough to make the mountains burn like they were a line of volcanoes.

“Pull to port. We’ll get to transmission distance and alert command.” She swung her fighter westward, away from the heat. “Follow my—”

White light shot from the mountain, fired as if from nowhere, as if the energy blast just materialized right on top of them. Reese rolled away. Reflex took over. Reflex rocketed her away from the strike and away from Toucan.

“…hit!” Toucan’s voice came through the comm garbled, like through a badly tuned radio. “Hit!”

Reese leveled out. Toucan’s Dagger shield glowed bright, a perfect sphere around the little fighter. The light glowed brighter than the sun – too bright, like a light bulb about to burn out. Toucan’s dagger slowed, still gleaming. Reese winced away from the light.

“Toucan!” Reese called. “Change power. Throttle—”

But her warning came too late. A second burst of light shot from the rocks. It struck the glowing bulb of Toucan’s shielded fighter.

The shield blossomed in flame. Reese heard a last garbled wail, but it was blown away like the black smoke from the exploded fighter.

Reese fell back into reflex. She burned hard, full throttle, away from the mountains and the unseen assailant. She wove as she flew, swirling serpentine through the air.

Then her comm came alive again, a different sound this time. It hummed now, but she did nothing to change it. She fled. Then a new voice spoke in her ear.

“This is a message from Liberty Corps Captain Christian Davard.” The voice was precise, his speech perfect. “All southwest IHSA installation defenses have been crewed. At this time, we consider all approach to IHSA RRD holdings to be acts of aggression. Any overt actions otherwise will be considered acts of war.”

Reese did not answer. She wove away, but the voice spoke again. He spoke to her.

“Return our message to your masters, interceptor pilot. This is your only warning.”

* * *

Kol waited until daylight to leave the cabin. As the sunlight peeked under the blinds, he listened to Max’s deep breathing. Max ignored the lightening glow. He slept.

Kol risked waking his brother. He slipped back into his jumpsuit and boots and slipped through the cabin door.

The forest was alive with springtime. It was warm too, but not with the heavy humidity he knew. This was a spring he’d never felt before.

Kol looked up the path toward the Lodge at the Eldest Oak. A pair of guests were leaving the tall building, a young couple, hand-in-hand. The pair spoke to each other with no furtive looks or guarded stance. They knew safety. How long had it been since Kol had felt safe like that?

The couple both glanced back down the hill toward him, like they sensed him watching. Kol turned away. He followed the path away from the lodge. He walked beyond the other cabins and around the barn where the Aesir waited, hidden. There was a sweet smell and distant talking from the barn’s open door.

But Kol continued further. He found that the path plunged on between tall trees. When he stepped between them, the food smells and human sounds vanished. Birdsong and insect calls seemed to close in all around him. And there was a new smell, wet and mossy.

Kol tugged at the collar of his jumpsuit. He’d missed the changing seasons, captive in his cold cell and the high mountains.

But he kept to the path, beyond low rows of ornate wooden structures. There were runes engraved in the wood and he saw groups of bees moving around them and between the trees.

There was another building further still, a small wooden chapel. Kol guessed the building had room for little more than an alter, but there was a small bell tower rising from its roof. Its windows were stained glass, with images of figures waving gleaming swords or standing in forests like this one.

After the chapel, the path rose again and it curved back through the trees. Kol considered returning the way he’d come. He’d left no note for Max. After everything, their remote surroundings, the threat from the Vass brothers – if anything happened, it would seem like he’d vanished.

He could vanish. Who would know if he disappeared somewhere between the trees?

Kol formed a small projection above his left hand. He was alone, but he was never unarmed – not anymore. That was a gift from his time imprisoned.

So he continued on. He took the path as it rose again and curved back. There were no buildings this way and the trees closed tighter. He still heard no sounds but the wind and the life in the encircling forest.

“It’s good you stuck to the path.” A voice suddenly called out ahead of him. “You wouldn’t be the first we’ve worked to hide and hid too well.”

Embre Vass stepped from the trees and onto the path ahead. The lodge owner wore a sky blue dress. She tapped at the stones of the gravel path with her cane as she walked toward him.

“Hello,” Kol said. “I’m sorry if I’m not supposed to be here. I needed the walk.” Why had he gone so far? Why had he wasted his first free morning trekking through the woods?

“It’s always one or the other.” Embre stopped in the path and Kol continued toward her. “Sleep all day or up with the sun. You’ll rest soon. I’m sure. Is everything to your liking?”

“It’s very…” Kol began. “Everything’s very nice here. Thank you.”

“Very good.” She continued back up the sloping path. He walked beside her and matched her pace. “Then if it’s all right with you, I’ll walk you back. I wouldn’t have called for you if you were still asleep, but since you’re awake, I’ll show you the way.”

“The Aesir crew is looking for me.” Kol nodded. Had Enoa’s letter been retrieved? What else would they think of him when the truth came out, what he had concealed? How much more pain would he see on Enoa’s face, pain he’d caused? And all after she’d rescued him. Kol almost turned back down the hill or turned aside.

“No,” Embre said. “Tath asked for you. He wants a word.”

“I don’t…” Kol began.

“Syly’s brother,” Embre explained. “Tathaln of Yll Banys, brother of Sylyr of Yll Banys, reunited after many years. Because you caught her and Master Aspallen and Elemental Melanthymos. And everyone else on that vehicle. They would all be dead if you hadn’t caught them.”

“I didn’t hold them very long,” Kol said. “Only long enough for Melanthymos to raise the ground the stop their fall.” Ahead, the trees cleared, and the distant shapes of the barn and cabins became visible.

“False modesty isn’t a condition of penance,” she said. “Only real humility and better deeds.”

Kol didn’t argue. How far had his story spread? How far would it? Traitor to the Liberty Corps. Thief and arsonist to everyone else?

The path exited back into the clearing, between the lodge and the group of cabins. Two trees bent low over the opening. Their branches wove together in a natural arch.

Kol looked out and back toward the lodge. Another group was leaving the tall building, a family of five with three children. The smallest of the children, a little girl in overalls, turned toward the path and waved. Embre smiled and waved back. Kol raised his hand, but stepped back when the child’s young teen sister picked her up and looked toward the tree line. But the teen seemed to scan the forest without seeing them. Then both siblings followed after their parents.

“Most don’t look if there’s nothing they want to see,” Embre said. “You’re safe here, Kol Maros. If you have left your past behind, it will not find you here.”

Kol heard the rev of an engine before he could answer. A dark green motorcycle with a side car tore up the gravel path from the cabins. Both were decorated with thin loops of gold paint. The rider and passenger both wore long dark coats and helmets that matched the motorcycle paint style.

The motorcycle stopped at the mouth of the path in the trees. Both rider and passenger took off their helmets, revealing pale faces and true-silver hair. Syly smiled at Kol as her brother stepped from his bike.

“Captain Kolben Maros.” Tathaln of Yll Banys bowed to Kol and offered his left hand. “My thanks.” He spoke slowly and deliberately, but without his sister’s hesitation.

“I’m not a captain now.” Kol raised his own flesh-and-blood hand, but Tath instead stepped forward and gripped Kol’s forearm. Then he lowered his head again. Kol returned the gesture. “I’m just… Kol.”

“Kol.” Tath stepped back. “My sister – you saved her life. You thought of her when you faced peril. The baron – he killed so many. Yet you saved Syly, and it will not be forgotten. If a need arises for you, Yll Banys will remember.”

“Thank you,” Kol said. “I’ve made many mistakes trying to protect people. And I’ve often failed.”

Tath bowed again. That time, Kol did too.

“Lady Vass,” Tath said. “I will return. You will call for these tots?”

“I will,” Embre answered. “I’ll let you know when your order is here.” Syly let out a small cheer. She clapped as her brother returned to the bike.

“Bye-well friends!” Syly called. “Kol and Embre.”

“Farewell,” Tath spoke softly. “Or good-bye.”

“Good-bye, host Embre,” Syly said. “And farewell, my protector Kol!”

“Good-bye,” Kol said. He raised his hand. The siblings donned their helmets again and the motorcycle sped away up the path, around the lodge and out of sight.

“I’m sorry if your sons felt I endangered you,” Kol said. “I followed Orson Gregory. I didn’t mean…”

“My sons should know the value of forgiveness.” Embre stared up toward the lodge. “Their own father, my late husband, he fought in the Nightstorm Rebellion. If he were not forgiven, they would not be in this world.”

Kol nodded. He did not know the name from the secret histories the Hierarchia had chronicled. He didn’t know the extent of that forgiveness.

“You must be hungry, young man.” She squeezed his arm. “Why don’t you collect your own brother? You have an hour or two left for breakfast. Whatever Gregory has planned for you, I imagine there will be time for more rest after you’re fed.”

“Of course.” Kol said. “Thank you.”

Whatever Gregory had planned – Enoa’s letter, the full truth. All the praise and thanks from pale travelers didn’t erase what he’d done or what he’d planned.

“Well.” Embre continued on up the path. “Have a good morning!”

She left him alone again.

* * *

Orson set down the typewriter on the Aesir’s table. He sat, facing it.

“You know.” Dr. Stan sat at the sensor station, monitor lit. Her new datapad was perched on her knees. “Sleep is good for you. There’s a lot of research on the subject.”

“Yeah,” Orson said. “Good morning to you too. I’ll probably sleep for a week once we know what this letter thing is about.”

“Are you worried what the Liberty Corps might know or what our young friend might learn?” Dr. Stan didn’t look up from the datapad.

“What do you think?” Orson asked. “We know what Helmont knows about the island. And I don’t think that stuff comes from anything Kol stole a few months ago. I just…” He lowered his voice. “I didn’t know how soundly she’d sleep, and I didn’t want her out here alone when the message comes through from Eloise. Or have her stuck out here while I’m basically dead with the typewriter in with me.”

“Jaleel would just go in your room and take the typewriter if he heard the keys and knew the message was for her.” Dr. Stan set the datapad aside. She stood and walked back toward the kitchen, but stopped short. She stooped down and ran her fingers along the floor.

“You’re not wrong,” Orson said. “Still…” He jumped to his feet when he saw she’d slipped her fingers into a panel at the floor and disconnected it. “What are you doing? That thing is down there!”

“I have an idea.” Dr. Stan drew something from the chest pocket on her button-down shirt and slid the panel sideways.

“Hello!” The Jim android called out from the floor. “I hope you had time to think about my request. I still would like to switch to a window seat!”

“You’re going to have another seat for a little while.” Dr. Stan reached her other arm and the object in her free hand into the floor.

“Is it sunny out today?” Jim asked. “I hope I can…” He stopped speaking midsentence.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Dr. Stan pulled the head from the floor. There were sunglasses perched on the bridge of the nose. A thin band ran between the earpieces. Dr. Stan tightened the band until the sunglasses fit snugly.

“It’s a secondary power source that keeps the head running,” she said. “And his responses are mostly triggered by visual stimuli. So I deprived him of the stimuli.”

“Nice trick.” Orson sat again. She carried the head back to the sensor station. “I didn’t know how you’d get it to stay there with the ‘no ears’ thing.”

“Yes, that was the tricky part.” She sat the head in the opposite passenger seat and raised her datapad again. “Now, what were we talking about? That’s right, I’m assuming that your adventure into the floppies did not go well, this morning.”

“You could say that,” Orson said. “Did the computer leave a login alert or something, that you knew we were on there?”

“No.” She held up the datapad to face the Jim head. “I heard the clicking sound the screen makes when it warms up. After all of our work preparing for the heist, I recognize that sound in my dreams.” She spun the head and aimed the datapad toward the back of the white cranium. “And I heard you talking. You’re all very loud.”

“Sorry,” Orson said.

“No need to worry about it.” She slipped a cord between the datapad and the sensor console. “So what reading did you do? Would you like to bring me up to speed?”

“Yeah, of course.” Orson stood from the table just as the typewriter’s keys began to move. “Wait.” He looked to the paper as it rose.

The message was not from Eloise.

Orson it is Franklin. We gotta talk Kid. Big shit went down last night. Liberty Corps rampage. Pops has a conference set up. Do you remember Yan Guo. Used to be with Norad. We have her current group on the line and this mountaineering specialist. Call went out to Sirona too. Beep us if you can take a call. Otherwise we will get some information sent to you some other way.

“Problem?” Dr. Stan asked.

“Pops has news.” Orson jumped back to his feet. “Liberty Corps. He’ll have a bird if he sees that head, so I’ll take the call on the ship’s tablet.” Orson slipped between Dr. Stan and the seated head, and pulled the tablet from its slot under the dashboard. “We’ll see what’s up.”

He sat the tablet beside the typewriter. “Ruby, are we safe for a tightbeam? Should be local.”

“There is a local relay communication initiated by Earl Pops Darlow. This follows our security protocols. Would you like to accept?”

“Yeah, but let me know if we get any weird readings,” Orson said. “Anything at all looks off, you pull the plug, right away.”

“You would like me to disengage transmission in the event that the sensors locate information outside—” Ruby began.

“Yeah, take the call,” Orson interrupted.

The tablet screen changed and displayed four video feeds. Pops wore a somber black suit and tie. Franklin and Sebastian Royce wore matching bomber jackets. There was a woman in a navy blue uniform with silver bars on her shoulders. The last feed showed a bearded man Orson did not know, with a parka hood pulled over his head. There was a rough wall of wooden planks visible behind him.

“You made it!” Franklin said.

“Good.” Pops nodded. “I’m still hoping Sirona will care to join us, but at least you’re here early enough that we shouldn’t have to repeat ourselves.”

“Captain Gregory,” the woman said. “Good to see you.”

“Thanks, Colonel Guo,” Orson said. “Same here. I like the new uniform.”

“Not so new,” she said. “It’s been quite a long time.”

“Orson, this is our contact on the ground, goes by Mathis, formerly of the National Park Service,” Pops said. “He’s getting us some useful information. Mathis, this is Orson Gregory, captain of the Aesir, if you know the name. Orson’s a regular collaborator of mine, and he has my trust.”

“Good to have you, Gregory,” the man in the parka said. “Right, so the Liberty Corps is setting up emplacements all through the mountains – at least fifty, that we know of, over five hundred miles. But these emplacements appear to be consoles with only localized power. I haven’t gotten any of my folks close enough to see their wiring, but we think that both the artillery and at least some of the power generation for these things was buried, put into place a long time ago. These weapons are very well hidden.”

“The Dagger pilot who survived didn’t even see the artillery,” Franklin said. “Just the whole mountain with a heat signature, like it was volcanic or something like that.”

“Geothermal power generation, maybe,” Pops said. “At least supplemental. But that’s how we come back to my idea.”

“When did they do this?” Orson asked. “All last night?”

“Since your business yesterday,” Pops said. “Manifest Destiny launched. It’s been carrying crews to these emplacements up and down the Rocky Mountains. One of these emplacements attacked a Pacific Alliance recon mission this morning.”

“This is a response,” Orson said. “To what we did yesterday. We freed those people and started a war.”

“It’s not the first you’ve had a hand in starting,” Guo said.

“And it wouldn’t be the first I’ve finished.” Orson stood again when he heard a bunk door slide open. Enoa stepped out into the passage, wearing the same light cardigan she’d worn the night before.

“The Liberty Corps emplacement teams seem like skeleton crews,” Mathis continued. “A squad or two with a skimmer and some defensive guns we don’t recognize.”

Enoa approached the opposite side of the table. Orson ignored all responses on the conference.

“I heard the typewriter,” Enoa said. “What’s happening?”

Orson clicked the off switch on the tablet’s built-in microphone. “Liberty Corps news. How are you?”

“I’m…” she began. “I just need to know all of it. I’ll know how I am when I read the letter. Nothing from Eloise?”

“Not yet,” Orson said. “Hope the Maros directions were good and nothing happened to that storage place. It’d be terrible if one of Sloan’s clowns blew it up, months ago.”

“New incoming message,” Ruby spoke from the ceiling. “New message from Earl Pops Darlow.”

Orson reached to the tablet and turned the mic back on. “I’m sorry. I have other things going on.”

“Yeah, well none of that is the start of a second apocalypse war,” Pops said. “So I’m gonna ask for your undivided attention for a few minutes.”

“Pops is just sore you didn’t call him last night,” Franklin said.

“I am not…” Pops began.

“Please,” Mathis said. “For now, we’ve cut our power. Unless they get very lucky, we can lay low and just observe. There are enough unoccupied mining towns and abandoned property that nothing but a close thermal scan should give us away. And we should be safe, so long as we don’t freeze our balls off. Pardon the French.”

Orson nodded to Enoa. “I made some coffee already. If you’re staying up.”

“I’m awake,” Enoa said.

“Orson,” Colonel Guo said.

“What’s up?” Orson sat again.

“Can your Aesir’s repulsors work as the sole system in your ship,” she asked. “Function as a skimmer for an insertion?”

“Maybe,” Orson said. “There are some automatic essential systems. I don’t think we’ve ever tried anything like that.”

“I didn’t remember either,” Franklin said.

“What’s your plan?” Orson asked.

“We want to cut off their power,” Pops said. “If that new artillery is using power supply and systems the Hierarchia put in place, all we have to do is cut off the battery. So I’m hoping to manage insertions at the artillery sites, burrow to the power supply, sever it, and get out before the Liberty Corps realizes they’ve lost half their secret guns. That’s why I need you here. Yours could be the best ship we definitely have.”

“Maybe,” Orson said again. He looked back to Enoa as she retrieved a mug and walked to the coffee pot. She had the same hollow, distant look from hours before. “But I don’t think we’re in a place to jump back into another fight. Not…”

“Orson, the Pacific Alliance is going to put out the Marshal Call,” Franklin said. “The first full marshal and muster. The first ever. For war against the Liberty Corps. That means Evergreen.”

Had Sirona known something the night before, known that they were both drawn into a new fight together?

“I talked to Sirona a little about the heist, last night,” Orson said.

“Well, I want her help,” Pops said. “So let’s get my pitch finished. We get the Alliance or the Alliances on board, we get the old Aesir Crew working together. Hell, I’ll even send out the honorary messages to Wayne, Doc Haydn, and some of your Enigma Guard pals. We need to get this thing together before the Alliance tries something that’s not creative enough.”

“Alright…” Orson began, but the other bunk door slid open, followed by a crash, and a yell from Jaleel. Wesley flew through the passage and landed, chattering on Enoa’s shoulder.

“What’s happened?” Jaleel ran into view. “Did we get it?”

“I’m in a meeting, Jaleel,” Orson said.

“No, we didn’t hear yet.” Dr. Stan continued her work.

“What kind of message are you waiting for?” Pops asked. “Aren’t you done with your heist? What’s going on, Orson?”

“I’m not taking up more of our planning time for this,” Orson said. “Pops, I meant to get in touch today, anyway. We’ll do another call when this is done. It’s complicated.”

“Why is Jim—” Jaleel began.

“Wait!” Dr. Stan shouted. “He can imprint—”

“Hello!” Jim called. “I am enjoying my travels. I still want a transfer to a window seat, but I have instead received a sleeper compartment. I like this better than riding in coach.”

“I know that voice,” Franklin said. “You kept some too?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Pops yelled. He glared at the camera. “I can’t help you plan if you’re taking assassin androids and—”

“I didn’t exactly know about it either, Pops,” Orson said.

“Sorry!” Jaleel stood beside Enoa. Wesley hopped from Enoa’s shoulder to his.

“Look,” Orson said. “I want to help with this, but we’ve got some crew stuff that could be just as big as this secret mountain gun problem. That’s gonna be my number one, right now.”

“Hi Pops!” Jaleel said.

“Hello,” Enoa said, with him.

“Hi, Kids,” Pops said. “What exactly are you working on?”

“For Christ’s sake, Matt!” A deep voice shouted through Mathis’s link. “Who are these people? We don’t know what the transmission power is for the snow patrols. I’ll kill you if we get caught from their shouting!”

“I’m lowering volume,” Mathis answered.

“I’m sorry,” Orson said. “We can keep it down, right?” He glanced over the tablet. Jaleel nodded. Enoa shrugged. “Okay, let’s get back to this. What are the distances between these emplacements? We can’t hit fifty over a thousand miles without them noticing, even if everything goes perfect.”

“And it never goes that smooth,” Franklin said.

“I can get you the maps,” Mathis said. “If—”

The typewriter began again. It stole Orson’s attention.

“Sorry,” Orson said. “Might be getting our message now.” He read the words as they arrived.

He rose and watched the rising paper. Enoa and Jaleel joined him. They stood on the other side of the table, all watching the moving paper like it was a long-feared diagnosis.

Orson. I am going to start sending the letter. I hope Enoa is ready. This is pretty heavy. But pickup went fine. I never typed something this complicated with the typewriter. I am going to try slashesfor some other punctuation. Hope you are ready.

Enoa grabbed the paper and bent it back. She read it sideways. “Yes, I need to know now, Orson,” she said. “Whatever it is, I have to know.”

“What’s happening, Orson?” Pops asked. “What’s wrong?”

“New information about our, uh, our ongoing project,” he answered. “I’ll be back.” He muted the tablet.

Eloise did not wait for a reply. When the first paper fell free in Enoa’s hand, the typewriter continued to move. Orson joined them on the other side of the table and turned the typewriter to face them all. Dr. Stan joined them too.

“Do you…” Jaleel said. “Is it okay if we’re here with you?”

Enoa nodded.

The typerwriter’s hammers inked the a letter on page after page, the truth falling piece-by-piece into Enoa’s hands.

They read.

Enoa / I have difficult news to share. This information I hoped to give only out of honesty / when I knew you were ready / but my plans have changed. I leave you this message to keep you safe. I need you to act as soon as you read these words.

I should have told you this in life / but I wanted the last days with us together to be like they always were / without the burden of old secrets. You were the best part of my life. You are so good / and it has redeemed me to raise such an extraordinary person in this difficult world and dangerous time.

I write this letter on July 5. I could have months left to live / but we cannot count on that. It could be that we deal with this situation long before my time comes / but I am too sick now to solve this on my own. This problem may outlive me. Something happened yesterday that forced me to act.

Long ago I was part of a group of people that hid something very / very valuable / called the Dreamside Road. It is beyond priceless / and I fear now that someone is looking for it. They believe I have it or they know I have one of the keys to unlock it. I do not believe they are in Nimauk. I think this threat is still distant. The interested parties likely do not know where we are / but I could be wrong. My perceptions are not what they were.

I have feared this day for decades and now it comes so close to the end of my life / when I know this burden will not be mine / but yours. I am so sorry that I passed this on to you / but I could not let the Dreamside Road be located by the wrong people. It poses the danger of Thunderworks / many times over. It must be kept safe and hidden. I have always wanted to find a way to free myself / to free us of this danger / but I could find no safe solution.

You must be so confused. I promise everything will be explained in time. I have a plan that / if you follow it / I believe you can be safe / that you can live / and that all of this can be resolved.

I want you to follow my instructions. They will seem very strange / at first / strange and terrifying / but trust me.

As soon as my will is probated / you need to leave Nimauk / just for a time. I hope you can wait until the will is complete. If not / I have a plan for that too. Prepare to leave at a moment/s notice. Prepare to travel long distance / like one of our drives to Long Island.

Next / I need you to go to our family mausoleum. There is a hidden door inside. A room is hidden there. I work in it sometimes. It can be reached by the house too / but that is not a door you could take / not yet. That hidden room contains a secret I must share with you.

Enoa / I am capable of wielding a power of the mind / called Shaping. Do you remember when all of those stories leaked to the news / about seemingly magical abilities / about the ESP studied by the League of Nations or all the strange people that fought back against Thunderworks /

I wield a power like that / and as much as I hope my plan will keep you far from danger and from harm / I want you to learn this power too. It must seem so impossible to you / to even think about this / but I promise it is possible.

I will be honest with you now / honest in a way I should always have been. I am sorry / but this is not the last hard truth you may face.

I have been preparing you to be a Shaper since you were a very little girl. The meditation we practice is influenced by the old Nimauk / by our ancestors / but it is not Nimauk in origin. I made it. I developed it to hone the mind to perform Shaping. I believe you could progress through the training very quickly. Shaping is difficult / but your mind is strong / and strong in all the ways it must be.

That is the part most people never learn / and you are already there. Think of the glade you imagine / in meditation. Think of the way your mind feels. That is where you will go to learn Shaping.

I have films prepared to teach you to shape / hidden in that room near the mausoleum. Please go there and watch at least the first seven films. I have a screen and projector. Everything you need is waiting for you. That should prepare you well enough to defend yourself in case of attack.

You will think of Shaping as magical / but please try to learn it. If you believe / you can do it. If you believe / you can learn a power that will keep you safe. The detailed instructions to find your way through the mausoleum and into my secret study can be found on page 2 of this letter.

I also need you to get in touch with a friend of mine / named Archie Grant. He is another old Shaper / like me / and he will see that you are safe if anyone should come looking for the Dreamside Road. You can reach him through the process detailed on page 3 of this letter. I want you to contact him when my will is complete or if there is any sign of danger. If you hear anyone speak about the Dreamside Road / for any reason / you need to contact him immediately. He will also be looking for any message from you or any word from Nimauk.

I am sorry I set such a difficult path in front of you. I hope my fears are misplaced and you can live in our home. I always wanted our life to continue for you / no matter how long we were together. I have every faith in you.

I love you Enoa / and I am so dearly sorry. It was such a joy to raise you and watch the best of our family live on in you. It is such a gift to see the strong young woman you have become. I hope you do not think less of me from these truths. I love you as my own child / and I only ever hoped to keep us safe. I hope I can continue to keep you safe / even after I leave this life.

My thoughts will always be with you / Sucora

Orson watched the last page fall free. Enoa did not catch it. The page fluttered down toward the floor, until Dr. Stan took it from the air.

“Enoa.” Jaleel spoke first. “This… It doesn’t mean…”

Enoa held her hand to his shoulder. She shook her head and stepped away from the table.

“Enoa,” Dr. Stan said. “I don’t believe anything has changed for you. She loved you very much, and you are still learning because of what she personally taught you. This is something she made and gave to you.”

“She did,” Enoa said. Her face was almost blank. It was a forced calm, another lesson from her training. “This is what I expected after last night. After everything… I shouldn’t be surprised.” She turned toward the passage.

“Enoa, wait,” Jaleel began.

But she walked back to her bunk and slid the door shut behind her.

* * *

“I laid the first stone of this holdfast.” Baron Helmont stood beneath his campana-class shuttle, on the low, rounded platform that reached down from the ship’s belly. The shuttle floated above the Pinnacle Holdfast’s roof. “I set the stone myself.”

Two thousand armored figures gathered below, seven knights, over one hundred Shapers, and many more Rifle Troopers, Blades Troopers, pilots, mechanics, techs, and support staff.

The Holdfast’s roof had been repaired in places, patched shut with sealants burned the nose but could hold thousands of pounds.

The rest of the devastation remained. Smoke still leaked from the wrecks at the valley floor. Some fires still burned. Many bodies lay with them, still to be recovered. Even the unloading dock was still choked with debris and the unidentified dead.

“This stronghold was always a last resort,” Helmont continued, his voice magnified by the shuttle’s sound system. “This was a place to regroup, to rebuild. This was no way to run a new world. This was no place for the successor to the IHSA. It was folly to hold weapons development, biological experiments, and prisoners all together here.

“And this was its downfall. It was a hideway. It was made for a time of desperation. Prosperity in destruction! We were blind to the ways we still touched the world and it touched us.

“Orson Gregory exploited this. This is what he does. Trickery is his stock-in-trade. He and his crew can only fight us by engaging with us as people. He cannot fight us as warriors. But he can help us become true warriors again. I did not take you to Knightschurch before because we do not fully know what waits for us there. It could be that we face an entire island of the resurgent Covenant, knights of an older way than ours, armed with fire and the old world’s knowledge of the occult, the hidden. Our analyzed Shaping against true sorcery. This was inevitable. For us to inherit their place in the world, we needed to best them. This is symbolism made real. Student against master. Future against the past. I hesitated. I waited.”

The sky above Helmont filled with more craft. There were drop ships and long, personnel carriers. Shapes swarmed in the sky, enough to carry thousands. Saw-wings formed above them. Their cries were present, but too faint to interrupt their leader’s words.

“Gregory and his allies forced our hands,” Helmont said. “So we will rise as warriors. We have already fooled the Alliance with a war that is not coming. Not yet. Now we will ascend together. Now we will claim our birthright. Now we will claim our destiny.

“Freedom and might!” He called out to them. He shouted, as loud as he could without losing his exact diction. The shuttle carried the shout across the rooftop.

“LIBERTY CORPS FOREVER!” All answered him, and the Emperor Valley rang with their voices. The cheers carried and boomed until they sounded like a horde of the legendary past, a force twenty times their number, a force that could conquer the world. Conquer Knightschurch.

“Now we take to our ships,” Helmont said, when the echoes faded. “When we win against the old Covenant, the Liberty Corps will have no equal.”