30

Into the Portal

Juno huddled in the mah-kai’s gigantic hand. She shivered against the cold she never planned for, gulping at the thin air, fighting for breath. She didn’t dare look down, was afraid to see how high they were. Above was even worse. Silver flashed there, then orange and yellow. Heat followed, the acrid tang of smoke accompanying it. Within the howling wind, she heard a muffled shrieking, and it took her a moment to recognize the voice as her own.

She tried to burrow deeper, knowing it was useless. Consciously, she understood the black metal wouldn’t give, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Reflex and survival instincts overrode reason as her arms came up to cover her head. Not that it mattered. What was her body compared to the Go-Rheeyo’s flaming wreckage? Pieces screamed past, one after another, some close, others less so. Over and over she flinched, refusing to look, afraid of seeing Isshi’s broken body tumbling away from her. She recalled his kind face, easy smile, bright gray eyes, and gentle nature. Tears spilled over her cheeks. Isshi stayed behind to comfort the men and women Kaidan abandoned. How many would a ship as big as the Go-Rheeyo need? Isshi said only the Riders with mah-kai would leave, which meant the rest were dead or dying.

The fleeing Riders didn’t even try to save them, soldiers who were supposedly men of God. Men of God, Juno snorted. They carried themselves like warriors. She’d met some in the hangar, a solemn group – men and women alike – calmly making their way to the waiting mah-kai while loud booms rocked the ship. Neither affected the Riders, who boarded and launched without fear.

Without fear. The thought brought a bitter laugh. Knowing you had a mah-kai standing by did a lot to calm your nerves. She remembered rushing through the hangar, fifty armored suits on either side. The mechs were a blur of crystal and strong metal, and though different in design, they blended together in Juno’s head until a suit of shining blue plate caught her eye. Tall and elegant, with a crested helm and a long, lean body, it opened its chest-hatch slowly, almost reluctantly, for the figure kneeling before it.

Brother Onibi didn’t look up, but Juno recognized him all the same. Youth’s blush had left him, anguish and sorrow morphing him into a figure with rigid shoulders and a haunted expression. A ceremonial hammer dangled from his hands, its chain wrapped around his wrists like cuffs. It wasn’t his. Monks of lower rank wore steel hammers. This was black onyx; only the high clergy had those.

Isshi. The Go-Rheeyo’s oldest crewman sacrificed his life for the youngest. Juno’s throat tightened. The tears she thought spent threatened again. They needed more men like Isshi. Hopefully, Onibi would remember what the bishop did and follow that example. She shook her head, knowing the only way wars really ended was when the next generation tired of them.

Which is exactly what she’d tried to do. She spent a life railing against the conflicts her father supported. Necessary, he called them. Patriotic. In the country’s national interest. She never believed him. He used his influence as senator to send men and women to die because doing so kept getting him elected. Juno hated him for that. She wanted to make a difference but couldn’t. She didn’t have power or money or influence.

Now she did.

The wind still screamed through the mah-kai’s fingers, a mournful, keening sound that carried the cries of the dying. The noise clawed at Juno as if begging for justice, pushing at her, threatening to buffet her away. She ignored the sound and pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. Despite the danger, despite the mah-kai’s smooth and slippery surface, she turned to face the giant armor. An air of brutality swirled around the machine – in its yellowed eyes and angular face. Malevolent spikes thrust from iron epaulets, three per shoulder; another set, though smaller, sprang from each knuckle. This was a thing of nightmares, part monster, part demon.

Shoulders back, she hurled her voice at the helmeted head. “You said no one would get hurt!” She expected the wind to snatch her words away, but they rang out like clear bells. A sphere of living fire burned at her chest, embracing her voice, magnifying it. Giving her power. “How many have to die, Kaidan? How much blood is enough?”

The mah-kai’s head tilted toward her, draping her body in shadow. “A plague ravages Higo, and we are its cleansing fever. Just as a body’s defenses fight infection, so too do we sacrifice to preserve the whole. Higo’s rulers lost their way a long time ago. How else do you explain what the king and his advisors did to my mother? She was nothing to them. They took her life, took her child, her love, and her youth and cast them away as soon as they had what they wanted. Debauchery like that has consequences. God won’t stand for it; He lost his wife to violence. When He realizes what the king’s done He’ll destroy us. I have to bring those responsible to justice. It’s the only way to save our world.”

“You’re using that to justify all this? Jesus, Kaidan.” Juno threw her hands into the air. Wind whipped her sleeves and pushed at her body, threatening to force her from the mah-kai’s hand. “Do you even know what you’re saying? What happened to your mother sucks; I get that. But because of you, some other kid’s lost his mother or father or both. And it’s not just kids; this war is stealing husbands from wives and wives from husbands. You’re doing exactly what your father did but a whole lot bigger. How do you think your god feels about that?” The mah-kai’s fingers flinched, but Juno held her ground. “Go ahead. Add me to the list. What’s one more?”

A dull glow burned in the armor’s yellow eyes, but the fingers pulled back. “You’re an outsider; you wouldn’t understand. You don’t know our ways; you never saw how righteous our people used to be. But that was before my father sanctioned hedonism and immorality. Now we’re nothing but an embarrassment. We’re selfish people who turned our backs on God and debased ourselves.” His voice faded, and when it came back it took on the musing quality of one speaking to himself. “Bringing Higo back won’t be easy. We’ll have to mandate church attendance and create severe penalties for absences. Everyone goes, no excuses. It’s the only way to restore lost morality. After that, we can enforce the laws against prostitution and create new ones to fight infidelity and illegitimacy.”

The words cut through Juno like the frigid wind. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears or wrap her arms about her head, anything to keep from hearing more.

“Once we’ve seen to the major cities, we’ll turn our attention to the nomads on the plains. They’re decadent heathens. Punishment is not enough for them; we’ve tried it before, and it’s never worked. This time, we’ll just have to wipe them out. It’s the only way.”

The longer Kaidan spoke, the more Juno recoiled. Her body went numb and she wanted to scream at him, to tell him he was exchanging one form of tyranny for another. But her mouth was frozen, her lungs empty. Grief and rage had wormed their way into Kaidan’s soul and twisted what was once a normal man. John McDermitt tried to warn her about what happened to a madman with an army at his command and a church to support atrocity. She didn’t want to believe it; even now, a part of her resisted, believing she could convince Kaidan to… To what? Ignore a lifetime of pain and humiliation? She might as well talk to a hurricane.

Sobs built in her chest, rolling upward and threatening to wash over her. Everything she thought was right now seemed wrong. She’d been so naïve. Kaidan was Juno’s charging lion, Higo his prey. Nothing she said could stop him. War stalked him, Yohshin ambushed him, and somehow he escaped every time. Already, she watched Kaidan’s mech lift its free arm, thrust its hand forward, and fire a beam of light into the sky. Energy twisted into a sizzling, power-infused rope that raced for the wall ahead only to slam into an invisible barrier well short of it. There, power rippled outward, spreading and widening until a Portal took shape.

How far was it? Juno glanced up and caught a glimmer of gold far overhead, too far, she thought, to reach Kaidan before he escaped. The mah-zhin was fast, faster than anything she’d ever seen. It just wasn’t fast enough, not with the Portal so close.

The first mah-kai filed in: a gray figure shot through with amber veins, a jade green giant whose armored body resembled a runner’s lean frame. The last – a crimson suit with a sickle moon on its helm – dropped from above and looked over its shoulder. Juno didn’t remember seeing it in the hangar, but with all the chaos, she could have missed it. The mech paused in front of the Portal. Juno’s breath caught. Was it looking at her? It seemed to. Either at her or the gem around her neck. She peered at it, trying to follow its piercing gaze; but it turned away before she could decide which.

The Heartstone? She’d almost forgotten it. Would it help her now? Lifting her hand, she clasped the pendant. Her thoughts flew into it, frantic and pleading. Help me! Can’t you see what he’s doing? Why won’t you do something?

Heat coursed through her body like liquid metal, reaching for her while racing for the Portal. It slammed into the white light, power against power, one commanding, another yielding. Gasping, Juno crumpled to the mah-kai’s palm. Vaguely, she was aware of a change in the gate. It looked bigger, more menacing. Sparks flew from the edges, increasing its size. In seconds, the opening filled the sky. A sharp burning seared her palm, and the acrid smell of charred skin assaulted her nose. She shook her head to clear the frantic buzzing that filled her ears. The sound came again, more insistent, and Juno realized Kaidan was speaking to her.

“What have you done?” he screamed.

Juno opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to deny any involvement but couldn’t. Unable to meet his gaze, she turned her head away and watched the Portal swallow her world. Explosions sounded, but they were far away. If not for the flames she might not have noticed. These came in flickering light that tinted the Portal’s white walls with wild and angry color. As Juno’s mind drifted, the words that first erupted from the Heartstone filled her head.

“Sometimes, the sky is red,” she recited, drowsily.

At dawn, the stone answered. And at dusk.

Juno nodded, her thoughts fading. “The color of fire,” she murmured.

And blood.