Korbeu #3
Bishop chuckled lowly. “Come to think of it, maybe I did watch a movie and eat popcorn with my wife and don’t remember it either.”
Handy’s laugh rose above the loud hum of noise.
“What’s funny?” Maggie whispered around Beth.
“They’re starting,” Beth hurried.
“Gentlemen,” Nidev began. “We have much to discuss and I’d like to begin with the intel we’ve gained over the last few days with the Marsh Kings and Quantum King’s drones. Which of you would like to present first?”
Quantum stood up at his table, looking more human than ever in blue jeans and black t-shirt. His golden eyes moved around the room. “The Marsh King has given us his findings to combine with ours. I’ll be reporting on both.”
He leaned down and Harlow whispered something to him, getting a single Quantum nod.
He straightened. “First, the band of refugees that were approaching the north swamp have changed course and are now ten miles north-west—reasons currently unknown. But a specific signature has formed a ring around them. And the remaining human signatures are in two other groups, both miles apart with the same non-human signature rings surrounding those.”
He shifted his weight and gaze. “We found thirteen signatures on the map not entirely human—indicating these may be the Dead Kings. A not so odd number in these circumstances, we’ve concluded. And these odd signatures have amassed armies in the thousands.”
“Of what?” Bullets wondered.
“The armies appear to have human signatures. But these battalions move in sync, like a hivemind, possibly signifying mind control.”
“They could be synths,” Sinrik said. “Those also have human bio-signatures but are made into machines. Like my Riftborn.” His dark gaze found Bishop. “Criminals of the worst kind that have their emotions stripped for military service.”
“Possibly,” Quantum said while Bishop eyed Mayhem. He’d turned a man into his personal monster and neglected to find out if he was truly guilty.
“Sounds like a boots on the ground operation,” King Dalk said.
“What do you think caused the refugees to leave?” Spook wondered.
“Possibly lured,” Quantum said. “Or coerced by someone or something.”
“Let the Creole King come forward that needs to confess,” Seer said, suddenly standing. “The King that has seen a coin and has not reported it.”
Murmurs broke out and Bishop eyed Nidev, finding his face a mask of stone. He stood. “I am the King who has seen a coin and did not report it.”
Mumbling confusion broke out while the other Creole Kings stared at the fearless, noble leader in utter fucking disbelief.
“Tell them what was on the coin,” Seer ordered.
He stared at the air before him then lowered his gaze. “IDOL.”
The word hit like a gavel of judgment.
“I need to touch him!” Maggie gasped as if his confession unlocked a door in her. “I have to touch him,” she nodded, standing and hurrying around the table, not waiting or asking.
Spook followed her as Nidev stretched out his right arm. She took hold of his hand from across the table while a young student in Creole King uniform hurried in and placed paper and pen on the table before hurrying off.
Maggie’s shaky whispers filled the silence as she drew, and everybody held their breath for the verdict. Beth squeezed Bishop’s hand and he brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips against it while caressing their son in her womb.
Seer made his way to the table where she drew. There was only one thing that could make him pace the floor behind her, waiting to say or do whatever he was being pressed upon to do, and it had Bishop’s blood racing.
He leaned to Handy’s ear, curious. “You feel that?”
Handy angled his mouth toward him, “The pause before impact?”
Oh yeah.
Maggie slammed the pen down and flew into Spook’s arms, her sobs tearing out like somebody that had seen horrors they’d never unsee.
“Oh God,” Beth gasped, her tears coming as she watched her sister.
Seer moved along the drawings, his pacing agitated as he looked.
He suddenly grabbed up all the pages in one fist and held them up before Nidev.
“Thirteen Things of Ruin,” he boomed at him, slamming the pages on the table.
“Nine Dead Kings, three Generals, and one Hollow King that rules these abominations. What more would we know if you had honored your oath as a protector? Souls are hanging in the balance, and you choose self-worship at the altar of your lust! God help you if we lose a single one of them, King.”
The room didn’t breathe for five seconds.
Quantum broke the silence with, “I’ve completed twenty-five of the Ex-23 soldiers. We can use them to lead a ground sweep ahead of a small team to gain any missing data for an extraction strategy. Can leave in four hours.”
“I need to be on that team,” Bishop said.
“You would be,” Quantum assured. “And the Triplets.”
“And Handy,” Bishop added. “I still need to touch one.”
“I have an army of Riftborn awaiting my command,” Sinrik reminded. “If I’m allowed,” he said, eyeing Bishop.
Bishop looked right at him. “You are not allowed. But you will be accompanying us.”