Petra Rising by Matthew S. Rotundo

Author:Matthew S. Rotundo [Rotundo, Matthew S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Matthew S. Rotundo
Published: 2021-08-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kane sat in his cell and awaited his death. He had nothing else to do. The only productive enterprise he could imagine at this point was to commit suicide, thereby depriving Lizelle of a decoy that Purgatory or the Compact would waste ammunition on. But even if he could have managed it, he wouldn’t do it. As they’d led him out of the frenzied courtyard following Lizelle’s declaration of revolution, he’d told her he would crash the skimmer into one of her own fleet before he would lead an attack on Purgatory.

“Do that,” she’d said, “and the little girl dies.”

He’d looked around involuntarily, trying in vain to spot Winter in the roiling crowd.

“Oh, yes,” Lizelle had said in his ear. “She’s one of us now. But I can tell you still care, Pythen. So cut the shit and die like a man.” She’d backed away as her guards led him into a tunnel that would take him back to his cell. “Look at it this way: you get to do your bit to help liberate Petra once and for all. That should make you happy.”

The last Kane had seen of the world outside had been Lizelle’s disfigured but smiling face.

He suspected that he wouldn’t see the sun shine again until he was back at the controls of the skimmer, leading the charge across the ocean that would end in his and Cromberg’s deaths. And the deaths of Christ knew how many on the ground in Purgatory.

He supposed he should have been weeping. Or ranting like Cromberg during one of his tirades. Or maybe composing himself to go out with some measure of dignity. But instead, he felt nothing. Not numb as with shock, but utterly spent. He’d used up every emotional, intellectual, and psychological resource he had. He had no more plans, no further angles to try. Nothing remained. All his efforts had ended in catastrophe. Soon he would be dead, and there would be no one left to mourn or even remember him.

At least he wouldn’t be around to see Haven fall back under the heel of the Petra Compact.

So he closed his eyes and tried to remember the faces of his wife and daughter. But other random images kept interfering, flashing through his mind: Dur Kofny’s smile, Walkerman’s grizzled features, the fire from the explosion that had destroyed the bunker in Purgatory. Petra had taken even his memories from him.

Well, wherever Tayla and Shamlyn were, he hoped they were happy.

The cell door clanged. Mealtime again. Kane didn’t even bother opening his eyes.

Cromberg spoke, though. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Lizelle sent me.” Winter’s voice.

That, at least, got Kane’s attention. He opened his eyes.

She stood alone in the center of the cell, looking from Cromberg to Kane. “Did I disturb your beauty sleep, Kane? You sure could use one.”

He only stared at her.

“Oh, you’re angry with me, is that it? Hey, if anyone has cause to be angry with anyone, it’s me with you.”

Cromberg said, “You can’t—”

“Be quiet.

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