‘The Road to Rebellion’
Part One
‘The Kensei’
The Brave and Quiet Death
The kensei stands over a hospital bed in the burn ward. Under yards of bandages, attached by his wrist veins and by suction cups to the drips and monitors keeping him alive, is Pae, the erstwhile Third Boss of Taizen Gate. The kensei holds up one hand and his retinue, made up of the best bodyguards in the city, the gold standard of security services, Pae’s former family, retreat into the hospital hallway without a goodbye. More security stands guard at the exits and elevators; others point revolvers at the personnel kneeling behind the nurse’s desk.
“They rebuilt you,” says Pae. The burnt, choking sound coming from his throat, the kensei realizes, is a laugh. “I would have been New Aullerium’s pawn. Why didn’t they choose me?”
“You cheated,” says the kensei.
“It was not that.” Pae’s eyes flick away. “You were better. Are better. I can die knowing that.”
“So you will,” says the kensei.
His sword slides between Pae’s ribs, pierces his heart, and exits with a burble of deep red blood.
Outside the hospital room, one guard is ready with a motorcycle jacket and sunglasses. The kensei shrugs on the jacket and sheaths his sword. “Get me a hacker,” he says. “Aullerian. The best there is.”
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The Road to Rebellion, Part One: Treachery!
At a table on a remote hilltop, representatives from the Gythian mages, warrior, traders, cartographers, and advocates face the heads of the five Technologist Dynasties.
“The Dynasties demand equal seating at the Gythian council,” says Serena, head of the Campestrian family, “and equal shares of steel.”
“Ludicrous,” hisses the archmage. “You are not Gythian.”
“The first Gythians were Aullerian.” Alaric’s old voice booms as strong as when he addressed his troops at the Gythian Wall twenty years ago. Kinetic, his heir, glares across the table.
“You are asking us to halve our shares,” says a paladin.
“Demanding,” says Jovius of Renaia.
“One,” says the archmage. “The provinces may have one seat at the Gythian council and distribute one share of steel.”
“If equality is not given, it will be taken.” Alaric rises and turns to go, his hand on Kinetic’s shoulder for support. By the time she sees the steel cord that unspools, lighting quick, from Jovius’ bracelet, it has wrapped around Alaric’s throat and sliced his jugular.
“The seat is mine,” says Jovius, snapping the cord back inside his bracelet with a spray of blood.
“Very well,” says the archmage.
“Treachery!” screams Serena.
Alaric collapses into Kinetic’s arms.
The Road to Rebellion, Part Two: The Hacker
The Hacker is delivered, kicking and screaming, to the kensei’s practice room, and forced to sit on the mat.
The kensei sits cross-legged and waits for her to settle.
“You are the best?”
“Yeah, you metal-legged loser,” she says.
“I need you to hack into my system and disable the remote control connection.”
“That ain’t what you need.” She picks her nose and glares. “They put a failsafe in you.”
“A self-destruct mechanism.” The kensei closes his eyes and nods.
“Something that’ll kablooie your brain stem if you fudge the frequency or remove the sensor. What you need is a surgeon.”
“Have you ever done a physical hack?”
“I’ve cut into a cyborg or five. But I ain’t gonna mess with a boss.” She crosses her skinny arms. “You want my advice? Keep your factory presets and do what you’re told.”
The kensei smiles. “Prepare a surgery room,” he says, and a dozen guards sprint into action. “And pay her well, whether she succeeds or fails.”
The Road to Rebellion, Part Three: Something in Return
“He would have hated this,” says Ardan, standing in the dark over Alaric’s fresh grave.
“He liked electric skies,” says Kinetic.
“Why here, then?”
“Jovius killed him here. The hill where Gythia signed treaties with the Technologists after Rebellion Day.”
“I was there.” Ardan shakes his head. “I still can’t believe it – Jovius?”
“The Churn pushes the Renaian border ever northward.” Kinetic’s voice is ragged. “Alaric would have fought for equality, but Jovius needs steel tech now to fight at the Churn border.”
“You don’t blame him?”
“I blame him,” she whispers, “and I blame you.”
Ardan’s fists clench. “Alaric was like a brother to me.” He kicks at a clump of dirt. “But when the Stormguard came for my children, where was he?”
“Now you know where he is,” says Kinetic, turning from the grave. “New Aullerium is mine now, and Gythia is going to burn.”
“I’d thank you for the warning,” says Ardan, “but if you’re anything like your father was, you want something in return.”
“You up for a rebellion?”
“Always.”
“Open the gate.” Kinetic presses a communicator into his palm and he closes his fist around it. “Wait for my signal.”
