Quantum shift, p.32
Quantum Shift, page 32
part #1 of Phase Shift Series
“And you’ll know if they try to make a false vow. They can’t say the words but not mean them, or cross their fingers, or whatever. If they swear and it doesn’t take, they die. Right here, right now.”
There was some grumbling, but no more protests came from the assembly. Troias nodded. “When we bring the men out, if someone wants to say anything for or against them, raise your hand. You’ll be given one minute to speak, so make it count. I’ll hear three people max – I don’t want this to drag out forever – so only raise your hand if it’s something important. If you’re just going to tell us that you know him and he’s a good person, keep it to yourself. None of these men are good people.” He nodded to Annalise, who walked back into the back and brought out the first prisoner.
The man was big, as tall as Troias but thinner and less muscled. His hair was black and stringy, hanging down in front of his eyes. He walked into the assembly and sneered at the people, tossing his head arrogantly. “What, is this a trial?” he asked as Annalise pushed him to stand next to Troias. “What makes you think you have the right…”
Troias silenced him with a backhanded slap across his face. All eleven girls had fists, and no hands were raised, although with eleven fists, Troias wouldn’t have listened anyways. His glaive swept out, stabbing into the man’s heart without resistance. The prisoner gurgled once, then dropped instantly to the ground, blood pouring from the hole in his chest. Troias grabbed the corpse’s arm and dragged the body to the side while Annalise fetched the next prisoner.
This one was less defiant when he walked in and saw the crowd of people, especially once he saw the corpse on the far side of the room. Six fists clenched instantly, and the man died as quickly as his compatriot had. The night went on like that, with most of the men being executed without a word. One only had three fists, and although a man in the audience stood up to say that the prisoner had treated him and his fellow captives decently, that unenthusiastic endorsement hadn’t changed any of the three girls’ minds, and he’d ended up joining the growing corpse pile.
Four of the men were spared by the girls: three who received no fists, and one who got but a single fist against him. All of the others were slain on the spot, their corpses piled against the wall in a growing heap. The ones who were spared were returned to their rooms and were brought out as a group when the judgment had completed.
Troias lined them up facing the crowd and walked in front of them as he spoke, both to them and to the audience. “Consider yourselves lucky,” he orated, glaring at the terrified men. “You’ve been granted a chance to save your lives, a better chance than you gave any of these people, here.”
“I wasn’t part of all that,” one of the men protested. “I didn’t want anything to do with it!”
“And that’s why you’re alive,” Troias agreed. “But you also didn’t do anything to stop it, did you? Did any of you try to get these people out? To make contact with the young men on the outside? To band together and fight Elias as a group?” Their downcast faces were all the answer Troias needed.
“When you don’t fight evil, you become part of it,” Troias continued. “Because you were part of this evil, you must be punished. However, you can choose which punishment you’d like to receive.
“The first option is service. You’ll swear a vow to serve, to do no harm to others except in self-defense, and to follow the orders of your leaders.” He gazed at the men, pushing his Aura of Violence slightly. “This isn’t just a hollow promise you’ll be making,” he warned them. “If you make this vow, you will keep it, or your own Facets will punish you…harshly. If you try to swear falsely, to say the words without meaning them, we’ll know, and you’ll receive the second punishment, instead.”
“Which is?” one of the men asked morosely.
Troias pointed to the pile of corpses against the far wall. “To join them,” he said flatly. “Those are your options. Serve, or die. Choose now.”
“I’ll serve,” one man said, stepping forward, his head hanging low. “It’s better than I deserve.” Two others moved forward to join him, but the last – the one who’d received one fist – turned and bolted for the exit with astonishing speed. Even so, he made it all of three steps before Annalise’s pistol rang out, deafening in the small space, taking him in the back of his head and dropping him to the floor.
“He made his choice,” she said coldly, holstering her weapon. The three remaining men swallowed but said nothing.
“You’ve chosen to serve,” Troias declared. “Wise decision. Repeat after me…
“I vow not to harm Troias Drakos or his followers, or to allow him or his followers to be hurt, and I will do all in my power to keep them from suffering harm.
“I vow to obey Troias Drakos and any officers he places over me, as well as any leaders chosen by my community, unless doing so would violate my first vow.
“I vow to work to better myself and my community, to serve those within to the best of my ability, unless doing so would break my first or second vows. This I do swear.”
The men repeated the oath in a monotone, and to Troias’ relief, all three were surrounded by the colored aura that bound them to their words.
“Justice has been done,” Troias declared dramatically to the crowd, deliberately turning his back on the newly sworn followers to show how little he feared them. “I know you’re all probably tired, so please, feel free to get some rest. You can sleep here, or Annalise can take you across to the church to sleep, it’s your choice.” The crowd slowly rose to its feet, dispersing, and Troias turned toward the three men.
“For your first duty, take these bodies down to the basement. I’ll add an incinerator later, and you can toss them in there tomorrow morning.” He stared at the men. “If you find any weapons or valuables on them, give them to Lydia or Annalise. Don’t try to sneak off or leave this building without permission.” The men bowed their heads and moved off to the pile, grabbing the topmost corpse and lugging it out of the room.
An older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a lined face made his way over to stand before Troias. “Those were unnecessarily harsh judgments,” he said in a flat voice. “There’s a reason juries require unanimous consent. What if you were wrong with one of those men? You can’t undo an execution, young man.”
“As I said, that wasn’t a trial,” Troias chuckled. “How would we gather an unbiased group of their peers? They’ve hurt everyone here; there was no possible verdict but guilty. This was just the sentencing.”
“Still, the forms need to be followed,” the man said firmly. “This was vigilantism, not justice.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Troias nodded. “The Shift ended the entire concept of what you’d call justice.” He gestured out toward the main entrance. “Look around you. There are no more police. No more courts. No rule of law except what we establish for ourselves. You want a formal trial? To follow the rules of legal proceedings? Maybe there are enough people in Green Bay or on the nearest military base for that, although I doubt it.”
The man’s eyes glinted, but he grunted. “You have a point,” he conceded. “Still, our democracy…”
“Is no more,” Troias cut him off. “It’s gone. Most of our government is likely dead. All our institutions have fallen. We’re cut off from each other, scattered, trying to survive. There’s no army left to protect us, no government to provide for us, no police to keep us safe. We’re on our own, and we have to band together if we want to live.”
“I noticed, though, that you made those men swear to obey you before anyone else,” the man replied, a glint in his eye. “Are you setting yourself up as some sort of dictator? Elias’ successor? Should we be more worried about you than him?”
“Only if you’re trying to hurt me and mine,” Troias smiled easily. He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. “Look, like it or not, the old ways are gone. A month ago, you and I would be drinking a beer, talking about the next Bears-Packers game, enjoying ourselves, because we knew that we were safe. There were laws and governments and police to protect us, and we depended on them.
“Now? That was harsh justice because this is a harsh world. We’re in a battle, every day, for the survival of our species. It’s war, whether you want it to be or not, and armies aren’t run by committees. When wolfweres are trying to eat you and those you love, there’s no time to vote on whether or not to fight back.”
“So, why you?” the man persisted. “Why not an elected official? A mayor, or a State Senator? Why not someone who was duly chosen to be in a position of authority?”
“Ah, so that’s where we were going,” Troias laughed. “I take it you’re one of those, then? Hey, I don’t have to be in charge. I don’t care if you want to boss people around. The thing is, it takes a certain level of Aura to make a place safe, and the higher your Aura, the more secure it is. If you can secure a place, though, feel free to, with my blessing, and take as many people as are willing with you.”
“You wouldn’t try to stop me? Even if I took most of these people with me?”
“You’d be doing me a favor, to be honest,” Troias snorted. “You’ll need an Aura of at least 3.5 to claim a place, but if you’ve got that, go to town.”
“I might just do that,” the man smiled, walking away and beckoning to a group of people.
“He’s already starting trouble,” Lydia muttered under her breath. “That’s Sam Finley, state senator for this district. He’s been one for decades, long enough that I don’t remember who served before him. Watch out for him; he’s got quite the golden tongue.”
Troias shrugged. “He’s in for a rude awakening, I think,” he said. “Anyone who follows him is going to expect him to get his hands dirty, not just give speeches about it. First time they’re attacked, and he sits back, watching, I think he might have a mutiny on his hands.”
“Sounds like that’s his problem,” Annalise offered. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “There’s a group who wants to go spend the night in the church; I’m going to run them over there. You want me to keep an eye on them, or come back here?”
“Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Troias asked. “I don’t want any of them to leave and get stuck outside.” Annalise nodded and walked over to the group.
“Why would they be stuck outside?” Lydia asked quietly. “We never had any problem going in and out of the church before.”
“I guess you must have counted as one of Elias’ followers,” Troias explained. “It sounds like you didn’t swear an oath to him or anything, but you must have at least agreed to follow his orders, right”
“Yes, but it was that or…”
Troias held up a hand. “No judgment from me,” he said quietly. “You were in a crappy situation. The point is, you counted as followers, and only a person’s followers can get into one of their fortifications without breaking in. You’re not my followers, and since I’ve claimed both buildings from Elias, you can’t get in and out without help.”
Lydia stared at him steadily. “So, if we want to keep using this church – our church, mind you, that most of us have grown up worshipping in – we have to become your followers?”
“I could abandon the fortification,” Troias suggested mildly. “That would free it up. Of course, if I did that, this place wouldn’t be safe anymore. You’d have to sleep in shifts, you’d lose the lights and running water, and there’d be nothing keeping someone or something else from coming in here to attack you all.”
“Can’t you just give it to me?” she said desperately. “I was the principal of this school; this place should belong to me!”
“Happily,” Troias nodded. “Is your Aura at least a 3.5, though? If it’s not, you can’t hold it. You can check to see if anyone else’s is, too. You find someone who can hold this place that you want to keep it, and it’s theirs. No questions asked.”
“You’d just give it up?” Lydia asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “After you went to all this trouble to take it?”
“I didn’t take it because I wanted the building,” he said quietly. “I did it to stop Elias, and to protect these people. That’s why I made the Brigade my followers, too; now, they live in a fortification, they’ve got water and heat, and they’re safer and stronger than they were.”
He looked at her seriously. “I wasn’t kidding, what I told the Senator. This is a war, and the only way we’ll win it is if we’re fighting together, united in a common cause. I killed those men today, not just because of what they did, but because they were willing to do it. They put themselves, their own pleasures, above the needs of humanity. We don’t need people like that, and I don’t want them in my communities. We can argue, we can fight, but when the wolves are at our door, we need to put our people ahead of ourselves. You think the Senator will do that?”
“No,” she sighed. “I know he won’t. He’s already wormed out of a bunch of corruption scandals in the past decade or so.” She looked around. “I’ll go check with the others,” she said. “But if we did decide to follow you…what do we have to do?”
“You make a vow, sort of like the one I had those prisoners make, except not as restrictive. You promise to keep one another safe, to obey my orders and those of the people in charge – unless doing so would hurt one of my people – and to better yourselves and the community. That’s it.”
She nodded. “Can we talk about it in private?” she asked. “Give us the chapel for the night; I’ll make sure no one leaves unless they’re not planning on coming back. We’ll let you know in the morning.”
Troias nodded. “Just so you know, this isn’t something I’m choosing to do to you,” he told her. “It’s part of the world, post-Shift. Fortifications are based on Aura, and if your Aura isn’t enough to make a fortification, you have to follow someone whose Aura is to use one. That’s just how it is.”
She nodded. “I believe you,” she said softly. “You don’t really seem like you want to be in charge of all this; more like you have to. I’ve seen administrators and teachers come and go over the years, and I can tell the difference.” She sighed. “We’ll let you know, okay?”
“No problem,” he nodded. “Round everyone up, and I’ll take you over there for the night.”
Chapter 20
Decisions
Troias and Annalise decided to crash at Paul’s former house for the night, rather than sleep in the school. For one thing, it was more comfortable than the makeshift cells the Triad had turned the classrooms into. Apparently, Elias had been stingy with his build points and hadn’t wanted to go out to get more, too busy indulging himself to care about anyone else or even expanding his little empire. For another thing, it gave the survivors a better sense of privacy, knowing that the pair were too far away to be eavesdropping on whatever conversations they’d have.
The next morning, Lydia reported that the Senator and a handful of people were gone, having left in the middle of the night. Troias assumed they would try to clear and claim someplace, but he wasn’t sure where or how, since the group hadn’t taken any weapons that anyone could see. The remaining survivors had agreed to take Troias’ vow, although there was still some debate going on when they arrived.
Troias had handled it the same way he’d handled it in Munising: they could swear, or they could leave and make their own ways. If they left, they’d be on their own, dealing with the world as best they can. His followers wouldn’t hinder them, but neither would they help; all of his group’s resources would go to bettering themselves. In the end, despite some muttering, there had been full agreement, and the vow had sealed everyone as Troias’ followers.
He made Lydia his Seneschal and gave her a few hundred build points, instructing her on how to make new fortifications in his name and placing Spencer and his group under her command. “They’re good boys, for the most part,” Lydia told him in agreement. “They were just in a bad situation. I appreciate you giving them the chance to make it right.”
After that, they’d headed back across the river to their stronghold, settling in for more training. Some of the survivors followed them south, moving into homes that he’d claimed. One of the Brigade, a young man named Reece Cooke, had asked to join them in the stronghold itself. “I was a mechanic, before all this,” he told Troias. “I took the Savant path, and…I’m not a fighter. Those other guys, they hunted and stuff before the Shift, but me? I just want to build things and fix things. If you can fix me up a garage, or a machine shop, I can make stuff for you, or fix anything you need.”
Annalise had practically begged Troias to put the young man in the machine shop next to the firing range, but Troias decided he should split his time between the machine shop and the repair bay. “If you can do anything to speed up the repairs to the truck, it would be useful,” he told the sandy-haired young man. “Otherwise, you can work on whatever Annalise wants you to.”
To his delight, Reece had managed to not only repair the Expedition, he’d upgraded it without needing build points. Apparently, that was part of a Savant’s talents: they could imbue common items with their Facets, giving the items unique abilities. He’d strengthened the truck’s exterior, changed the door handles into some sort of touch pads that would only unlock for Troias and Annalise, and created a rooftop hatch to make it easier for Annalise to get up on the roof and into a good firing position.
The other immediate benefit to taking the Brigade under his wing was that Troias gained not one but two members with the Fire Facet. One, a solid-looking teenager named Adrian, was a Fire Adept. He could coat his fists in flames and, with a lot more effort, wrap his entire body in fire Human Torch style. The other was none other than Spencer, who as Troias had guessed was a Fire Mage. Neither of them were particularly powerful, but together they gave Troias and Annalise enough literal firepower to clear two of the nearby schools of their spider infestations.
In fact, thanks to how flammable the webbing was, it wasn’t even a difficult job with the boys’ help. Spencer started things off with a few blasts of flame to set the webs on fire, and Adrian followed by coating his body with fire and rushing down the hallway. The webs burned fiercely, as did the spiders within them, and out of their webs, the creatures were easy to dispatch. Even better, destroying a large enough part of the web brought a veritable horde of spiders rushing to attack the invaders. The arachnids scuttled through the flaming webs mindlessly, even charging through the wall of flame Spencer managed to raise – although doing so taxed his Fire Facet to its limit. The burning and wounded spiders were no match for Troias’ glaive, Max’ fangs, and Annalise’s withering gunfire.
