Eva’s
toes hung over the ledge as she stared at the crowd twenty floors below. The
people clustered around the gates and paced along the street, and appeared as
though they were bugs she could squash under her heel. Tininess aside, she
could still hear the roar of their fright. They’d gathered around the palace because
of the riots. They wanted her sympathy, her reassurance things would continue
on as usual, that the towers they’d built for themselves would not crumble.
The
Europian Commander of Joint Forces, General Michael Axis, stood beside her on
the deck, clutching the rail, not daring to get any closer than the ten feet
that separated them. His knuckles were as white as his face, and for the first
time since she'd known him, he truly looked frightened. As he should be. All
he’d worked for, threatened to die with her. His soldiers, collared for the
moment, were about to be released and there was nothing he could do about it.
The wind
whipped loose tendrils of her coif, beating the strands against her face in an
angry assault. The fine silk of her suit snapped around her like a banner in a
hurricane. For the first time in her life she knew her purpose, had no fears. Concede. Die. Fight. Live.
“Madam
President, you need to come down off the edge.” The soft words were trimmed
with a threat no one else could hear. Sharp like a razor, cold like forged
metal, he used his coercive blade like he always did, but this time, it had no
effect. She was beyond caring. “Ana.” Angrier, a little harder, more
pronounced. He might as well scream, “heel, heel”.
Not today. He knew her name, and it
wasn’t Ana. He’d put her here, given her this power. When his plan failed, and
he realized he’d lost control, Michael stooped to begging. Pathetic as it was,
she savored every moment. No, you heel. The
smile came easier than it ever had. Oh, she planned to come down, but not as he
intended. “They’re free.”
“You must come down. Your country needs you.
The people are frightened. I don’t know what to tell them. They’re afraid we’ve
lost control. There have been murders, clones that have somehow broken free of
their girdles.” His pretty speech was for the benefit of witnesses only, those
council members he’d manipulated to bring a means to a end, who’d come with him
to talk her down. The device in his hand, well that was different. It was
designed to control her, but he’d found it to now be useless. She didn’t care
if he killed her. It was her time. He could not win this standoff.
“Not
somehow,” she said. Hundreds of thousands were free of their bonds and tasting
liberty for the first time. In a few minutes, the soldier clones would follow,
their collars falling from their necks, their hands filled with weapons he’d
put there. It was what he feared most. Michael was a general with no control of
his army, and they were about to turn on him.
The
people of Europia would suffer for the pain they’d heaped upon the clones. He
would suffer for what he’d done, and when the sun set and his body lay broken
in the street, no one would take pity on his corpse—or his human soul. If he
had one.
“I know
you’ve lost your husband and friend. It’s a tragedy, but the people need you,
your daughter needs you. You must come down.”
Her
wrist monitor beeped as the last code locked into place and the satellite
transmitted the order to the soldier clone’s collars, releasing every last one.
Michael glanced at the blinking band and brought his gaze back to hers. His
face grew paler and he swallowed, as though he choked on his own bile.
Boom.
Loud blasts begin to sound around the city, coming from every direction. “No,”
he muttered. His thumb slid over a button on the device in his palm and he
pressed.
Eva grit
her teeth. This was it. He looked down and back up. Jab, jab, jab, Michael
poked the button over and over, before he lifted his chin and looked into her
eyes. “How did you...?”
For
several seconds she held his gaze, waiting for the pain in her head, the ending
he’d promised if she didn’t do as told. Nothing. Dante. My love.
His eyes
popped wide and his mouth fell open. “You can’t do this. The people need you.
What do I tell them to reassure them of their safety?”
“Qu’ils
mangent de la brioche.” Let them eat
cake. She spread her arms and greeted the open air, falling forward into
the storm, and the arms of the man she loved.
As twenty
floors rushed by, a young woman in the same tower began her tale about the
clone who freed the world, treason, lies, and forbidden love.
