Jacob strode into his father's office. His intense brown eyes and rolling shoulders gave him the look of a prowling cat.
'What is it now?' Roy said, leaning back in his chair. 'Did Forester speak to you? You don't look well, Jacob.'
'I haven't seen him,' Jacob said with a twinkle in his eyes.
'Then you should speak to him after you leave here. Call him. Will you do that for me?'
Jacob stared back blankly with his hands behind his back.
'I'm tired, Jacob. What do you want?'
Jacob smiled. 'I came to tell you about my plan. I'm interested to hear what you think about it.'
'Plan? What plan? We already have a strategy in place, Jacob. You know that. We've spoken about this before.'
'We should attack Central Command at once,' Jacob said.
'Have you gone mad? I haven't worked for so many years just to have you throw it all away with some stupid suicidal gesture. Where do you get these notions?'
'You think my plan is madness, Roy? This is madness. Sitting here and watching Central Command destroy our warehouses and kill our soldiers. How can you accuse me of madness while you sit back and take this assault without striking back?'
'We cannot strike out wildly. We need to choose the right target and the right time. We need to consider how it affects those who support us. That has always been your mistake, Jacob. You think only in terms of anger and vengeance. You do not think about where your actions will lead.'
'And you do, don't you, Roy? You plan and sit on your hands while your enemies laugh at your inability to act. You wait because you are weak and indecisive.'
Roy banged his fist on the desk and rose to his feet. He was Jacob's father and superior officer. He had been leading the Kamari for many years. He would not be cowed down by his own son.
'Who the hell do you think you are? You only see strength in mindless aggression. Without me, the Kamari would have destroyed themselves in open combat long ago. It takes more than weapons to win a war, my boy. Only fools strike out without thought.'
Jacob glared at Roy. 'So tell me, father. What is this great plan of yours? Why don't you share it with me so I can learn from your wisdom?' He spat the words with spittle flying from his lips.
Roy stared into his son's angry brown eyes. Where had he gone wrong? When had his son become his enemy? He couldn't recall exactly when it had happened, but day-by-day they had drifted apart. Had it been Isor's death that had brought them to each other's throats? Perhaps.
'Share your wisdom, father,' Jacob said with a sickly smile. 'I'm waiting.'
Roy kept his hands by his sides. It would be too easy to strike his son again, but it wouldn't solve anything. It would only serve to push them further apart.
'Maybe we should discuss this another time,' Roy said. 'We both need to cool off. We should come back to this with clear heads.'
'Just tell me,' Jacob said.
Roy sighed. There was no reasoning with his son. He would always take the shortest route. Roy wondered whether they would ever see eye to eye again. 'Very well,' he said. 'We have not been inactive, as you claim. We have already struck at the heart of Central Command. The augmented have stopped the satellite strikes.'
'For now, perhaps. The security forces will recover the situation within a few hours. Was it worth wasting an augmented for that? Do you think it's easy augmenting a man like that without anyone noticing? It took months to achieve.'
'Lance served us well, Jacob. You know he did. You underestimated him from the start.'
Jacob laughed. 'Lance is dead. Why can't you see how pointless this was? You've thrown away one of our greatest assets for no purpose at all. Why didn't you use one of the others, someone who was disposable? You are blind to tactics, though you claim to understand them so well.'
'Leave me in peace,' Roy said, turning his back on Jacob. He had heard enough. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jacob tapping at his wrist controller.
'I have news of your attack,' Jacob said. 'Even while you sit impotent, waiting to hear.'
Roy turned to face his son. 'If you have news then tell me. Don't waste my time complaining like a child.'
Jacob drew his lips into a thin line. He moved his hands behind his back and smiled. 'Lance tried to destroy Tower Four with a satellite strike. Was that your idea, father? Do you realise how pointless that was? The tower shields would have no difficulty in holding off such an attack long enough for the security forces to kill him. How did you think he was ever going to survive? You will never penetrate the tower shields with stupid plans like that. If you wanted to launch a suicide mission, then why not attack the commanders themselves, or this new general of theirs? You could have caused them permanent damage.'
'It's not as simple as that,' Roy said. 'You only see half the problem.'
Jacob frowned. 'Do you know what I would have done? Strike against the people of Cinnamon City. Attack the undefended and the security forces would have had no choice but to come out of their towers to protect them.'
'I will not attack civilians.'
'That's right. You are a power for good. Why don't you join Central Command yourself? You already share most of their goals.'
'You are a fool, Jacob,' Roy said. 'It saddens me to say so, but it's true. What has happened to you?'
'I'm the fool?' Jacob said. 'You could have struck the security forces where it would have made a real difference. Your aim is poor and your plans are beyond comprehension. How long did it take you to insert Lance into Central Command? How many years did you wait for him to become a commander? I spent months augmenting him, and now he's dead. You call me impulsive, but you threw away one of greatest assets. What did it achieve? I could have used him in my own plans if you hadn't been so short sighted. You call my plans madness, but your own make no sense at all. Your age has consumed your mind. It is obvious that you are no longer capable of making rational decisions.'
'Get out, Jacob. I can't talk to you anymore. Get out before I do something I might regret. I'm tired of these endless arguments. You prefer to fight your father rather than serve the Kamari. So long as that is your aim you will serve nobody but yourself.'
'Do you serve the Kamari?' Jacob said. 'Or do they serve you? Every day you make us weaker. How long will this great organisation hide underground like cowards? Are we already in our graves and waiting to die?'
'Get out,' Roy said. 'I've had enough of this.'
Jacob turned and walked towards the door.
Roy let out a long breath. He had wanted to grab Jacob by the throat and shake him. Such was the state of their relationship. Every day together was worse than the last. He rubbed a hand across his face and walked back to his chair, slumping down onto the seat. He felt weary through to the bone. His own son was draining the life out of him. Roy covered his face with both hands. He couldn't allow Jacob to drag him down to the level of such constant bickering. There had been a time when Jacob had respected him. It seemed like a long time ago. Jacob had changed since Isor's death. He was constantly angry about something. He blamed Roy for Isor's death, even though it hadn't been his fault at all.
Roy could see it clearly now. The day that Isor had died had been the day that Jacob had stopped respecting him. It had been the beginning of their arguments, and no matter how hard he tried, Roy could not see any end to them. There would come a day when he would have to do something about it. He wasn't sure what that would be, but it left him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
'Roy?'
Roy looked up and saw Jacob standing in front of his desk. 'I thought you'd gone?'
'I need to show you something.'
Roy sighed. 'What is it? I'm tired, Jacob.'
Jacob held out his hand. A small flat silver disk sat on his open palm.
'What is it?' Roy said.
'Smell it.'
Roy frowned. 'I'm not smelling it. Just tell me what it is.'
'It's okay. It's different. Just smell it, then you'll see.'
Roy leant forwards and smelt the silver disk. As he inhaled, a fine mist blew up into his face. It smelt of metal and ammonia, and it felt cool and moist against his skin. 'What is it?' Roy said, sitting back in his chair.
Jacob stood watching him in silence. Roy stared at his son. His face had become indistinct, as though his features had all blurred into one. Roy strained his eyes, trying to focus. Perhaps he was more tired than he had initially thought. When he heard a dripping sound, he looked down and saw small red drops of blood on his desk. He raised one hand to his nose and was surprised that it felt wet. His hand was covered in blood. His fingers tingled, becoming numb.
'What have you done?' Roy said, his words sounding strange even to his own ears. He tried to gather his thoughts, to understand what had just happened, but his mind kept slipping into cold wet sands. 'Jacob?'
Roy toppled sideways from his chair and landed on the hard stone floor. He hit his head against the smooth stone, and for a second, he thought he was going to get back to his feet and everything would be okay again, but when he tried to move his legs nothing happened. He tried to push down with his arms and lift his head, but his body didn't seem to work anymore. Coldness seeped into his bones as he stared at the blurred black boots in front of him.