Chapter 796: The Inheritor's War

Chapter 796: The Inheritor's War

The reality of what happened in the SUDS Facility will forever be assumed to be less than it actually was.

It's one of those things that those who took part in it always make seem more believable by eliminating or downplaying the parts that would be hard to believe.

Like Menhit the Singer obliterating thousands of Screaming Ones with just a wave of her hand. - Blue Herod-38442, A Soul is Worth Fighting For - Memoir of the Afterlife War, Smokey Cone Press, 8615 PG

The other gathered Digital Sentiences sat as silently as the Gray Girls standing against the wall as Herod got up and walked over to the vending machine in the lounge. He simply touched the menu and a fizzybrew dropped out.

The DS's all looked at one another, varying expressions of disbelief on their faces, then at Herod as he slowly walked back to where he had been sitting next to the door.

"So, everyone believes she faked her own death?" Vanishing Point asked.

Herod nodded. "You'd have to have met her, in the flesh rather than her digital representation, to understand her in the slightest."

"We saw her on the Tri-Vee during the Trial of General Trucker," Vanishing Point said. He shook his head. "She appeared cruel and merciless."

Herod laughed. "You have no idea," he said. "I can still remember laying on the floor of the maglev car, her hands inside of me, telling me not to die as she tied things off," his face grew slightly cloudy. "But none of you get to judge her. None."

Torturer leaned forward slightly. He'd listened to it all intently, watching Herod's body language and his subconscious movements. "Why not?"

"She is what a time of brutality and hardship made her. She is exactly as the malevolent universe forged her," Herod said. He sighed and leaned back. "Standing next to her was to stand next to a brilliant mind and an emotionless psychopathic killer and a creature capable of empathy and compassion but unable to express it, all at once."

"Was she that bad, Herod?" Crimson asked. "She seemed a bit theatrical on the Tri-Vid during the trial, but not that bad."

He shook his head again. "You had to be there. She did not demand respect but she received it anyway."

Torturer leaned forward. "OK. So after she died, what happened?"

Herod closed his eyes.

"I knew that Sam wanted me. Had a pathological need to kill me after what we went through going through the mat-trans to the SUDS facility," Herod shuddered. "I set a trap," he said.

Torturer watched his body language as he detailed how he set the trap. How he knew what Sam would do.

He could see pain in every subconscious movement Herod made. See the regret and the resignation as the story progressed.

"Part of me thinks, when he was looking into my eyes as he died, he knew why I had to do it," Herod said. He closed his eyes. "He was beyond saving. He had been in pain for so long. I had no choice."

Vanishing Point nodded. "No. You did not. I regret what I have said, now that I have heard all of it," he shook his head. "I dislike the loss of any life, but he was mad, beyond mad, and had trillions hostage with no qualm of destroying them."

Herod sighed. "I like to think that part of him knew that Dee would press that button. That the whole reason he rigged up that button is that he knew she would do it to stop him," he laughed, a mocking, bitter sound, and pulled another bottle of beer from his pocket, opening it and taking a long drink. "He was betting that she would shoot the hostages rather than submit to his demands."

He lit a cigarette with a shaky hand and exhaled slowly.

Wally reached up and patted his leg, giving a low, sad whistle.

"Had to keep you safe, buddy," Herod said, patting Wally's hand. "He would have killed you just to hurt me."

Wally nodded.

Robbie was sleeping on Flowerpatch's lap as the nanite-cloud based DS rubbed the side of her face thoughtfully. "Can ask a question?" Flowerpatch asked.

"Sure. Why not?" Herod said.

"Who taught you to use a knife?" she asked.

Herod sighed. "Dee. She taught me."

"Why?" Flowerpatch asked.

Herod sighed. "It won't make any sense to you," he said. "It was at the camp. Where I'd learned she lied to herself as easily as she lied to everyone else, watching her put Chromium Saint Peter back together. I mentioned that I felt helpless, surrounded by Immortals, Apostles, soldiers, and whatever the bunny girl was."Th.ê most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m

Flowerpatch nodded.

"She took me to the side and told me that she had felt the same way at one point in her life, but her father, who had lost a large part of his soul in the trenches of the War to End All Wars, had taught her to use the one thing that a woman was never more than six paces from in her own house," Herod said. He twisted his wrist and the knife popped into his hand. "A knife."

"She taught you because you felt helpless?" Vanishing Point asked.

Herod nodded. "Because Okies ate her dog."

That got gasps of shocks, with everyone looking at Robbie, who Flowerpatch put her arms on protectively.

"Because she was beaten, Hell, and maybe worse (not that she'd ever admit it), over a bag of potatoes," Herod said. He dropped the knife back into his sleeve. "She taught me what she was taught by her father, and later Dee's Boys taught me a few more tricks."

Everyone nodded.

"Why do you say she lied to herself?" Crimson asked.

Herod looked away. "I watched her put Marco, Chromium Saint Peter, back together. I overheard Daxin and Dhruv confront her about the maternal affection she was using. I remembered her telling me how degrading it was to do that. I was about to step in when she said something that made me return to the fire."

Herod looked back at everyone. "She simply said: You don't know me."

"That's it?" Crimson asked.

Vanishing Point glanced at Flowerpatch. "I get it," he said.

Herod slumped. "I'm tired, I'm finally getting a buzz, and I need some rest."

Herod turned back to the Gray Girls.

"Now may we leave?"

They both nodded.

Herod stepped into the airlock when it opened.

-----

"I've never seen a ship that looks like that," Flowerpatch said, reaching out and taking Robbie's hand.

Herod shook his head. "Not many do."

The lines were strange, twisted. The ship was massive, larger than any other ship Flowrpatch had seen.

"What is it?" Flowerpatch asked.

"Part of the Dead Fleet, commanded by Bellona the Grave Bound Beauty," Herod said softly as the shuttle approached it. "My older sister promised me a ride."

"Oh," Flowerpatch said. "Which ship is it?"

"It's the Steamboat Willy," Herod said. "The newest ship of the Dead Fleet."

Flowerpatch said nothing, just watched silently as the shuttle drew near the massive ship.

-----

General of the Warsteel NoDra'ak stood up at the Terran entered his office. He ignored the slight taste of blueberries on the hinges of his mandibles due to how high the psychic shielding was cranked up.

The first thing the big Warrior Caste Treana'ad noted was how tired the Terran looked, then how weatherbeaten his face and clothing seemed. His guards had not been happy with the order to allow the Terran to keep his weapons, but NoDra'ak was a soldier and could tell that the Terran didn't mean him any harm.

"General NoDra'ak, Commander, 7th Army," NoDra'ak said. He waved at the others in the room and introduced them.

The Treana'ad could tell the Terran didn't really care, he just nodded silently.

"So what can I do for you?" NoDra'ak asked. "Seeing as you were a passenger on one of the Black Fleet, and Admiral Thennis stated you were carrying an important message, I thought it best to find out personally."

"I just have important information that I knew you'd want to hear personally from someone who was there," the man said.

"And what is that, Mister Herod?" NoDra'ak asked.

The man leaned forward and placed a cube on the desk.

"General Manuel Trucker was killed in action during the War in Heaven. A tactical and strategic action to enable him to fight and obtain victory in the War in Hell," Herod stated. He tapped the cube. "Witness statements, confession of his killer, statement from General Trucker after the War in Hell was completed, video footage of the battle and his death."

NoDra'ak stared at the cube for a long moment.

"Nobody else could lead Third Armored and Eighth Infantry in Hell, General," the Terran said. He reached in his pocket, ignoring the shifting posture of the MP's, and pulled out a nacrobrew bottle. He cracked it and took a drink, tossing the cap into a wastebasket with a smooth motion. "He attacked the enemy's rear, gave the Detainee and her legions support in order to finish off the Council of Eternity."

NoDra'ak nodded. "I assume this cube will cover the relevant parts?"

Herod shrugged. "Perhaps. I'm not a soldier, but Trucker put it together himself. I'm just the messenger."

There was silence.

"Is there anything else, Mister Herod?" NoDra'ak asked. He could feel the gathered officer's burning curiosity about what was on the cube.

Herod nodded. "I need a lift. The Steamboat Willy could only take me this far," he gave a chuckle. "One of the Dead Fleet isn't exactly hospitable to those on our side of the grave," he took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one with a flint and steel lighter.

"We can accommodate that," NoDra'ak stated.

He'd had stranger requests the last year.

"Me and two passengers. A dogboy and a nanite-cloud digital sentience," Herod stated. He sighed. "One last trip."

NoDra'ak nodded. "It will take a day or two to arrange. Till them, I can offer lodging in the officer's quarters."

Herod shrugged. "If that's what's available. It beats sleeping in a tent and listening to Daxin and Kalki snore."

"May I ask where you need to travel to?" NoDra'ak asked.

Herod looked up, through the tobacco smoke.

"Telkan."

-----

The moons were full, casting light down on the planet.

Wally was asleep, plugged into the wall.

Herod sat in the chair, the bed empty. He was fully dressed, staring out the window, a cigarette in his mouth, a bottle of narcobrew in one hand.

The pistol in the other.

"I have many miles to go before I sleep," he whispered.