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Chapter no 6 – ICARUS

Golden Son (Red Rising Book 2)

We land near the Citadel. Sticky, polluted wind bends the towering trees near our landing pad. Perspiration quickly beads along the top of my high collar. Already I do not like this ugly place. Despite the fact that we land here on Citadel grounds, which are far from the nearest cities and surrounded by forests and lakes, Lunaโ€™s air cloys and sticks to the lungs.

On the horizon, just past the spiked spires of the Citadelโ€™s western campus, Earth hovers, swollen and blue, reminding me that I am so far from home. The gravity here is less than Marsโ€™s, only one-sixth Earthโ€™s, and makes me feel unsettled and clumsy. I seem to float when I walk. And even though coordination quickly returns, my body suffers its own lightness with strange feelings of claustrophobia.

Another vessel lands to the north.

โ€œLooks like Bellona silver,โ€ Roque says quietly, squinting against the sunset.

I chuckle.

He glances back at me. โ€œWhat?โ€

โ€œtust imagining having a pulseRocket right about now.โ€

โ€œWell, thatโ€™s just โ€ฆ lovely of you.โ€ He walks along. I follow, eyes lingering on the vessel. โ€œI do love the sunsets of Luna. Like weโ€™re in Homerโ€™s world. Sky a hot shade of fresh-forged bronze.โ€

Above, the alien sky melts into night with the long setting of the sun. For two weeks, the daylight will disappear from this part of the moon. Two weeks of night. Luxury yachts cruise through

this strange dayโ€™s end, while nimble Blue-piloted ripWings soar past on patrol like bats glued together from shattered ebony.

The one-sixth gravity lets these Luneborn build to their heartโ€™s desire. And build they do. Beyond the Citadel grounds, the horizon is fenced with towers and cityscape. RungPaths wind everywhere so that citizens can pull themselves through the air with ease. The network of rungs stretch between high towers as would ivy, linking the heavens with the hells of the lowDistricts. Along them, thousands of men and women crawl like ants on vines, while Gray patrol skiffs buzz around the thoroughfares.

The household of Augustus is assigned a villa nestled within thirty acres of pines on Citadel grounds. Itโ€™s a pretty thing among other pretty things in this stately place. There are gardens, paths, fountains carved with little winged boys of stone. All that sort of frivolity.

โ€œFancy a session ofย kravat?โ€ I ask Roque, nodding to the

training facility beside the villa. โ€œMy mindโ€™s running away with itself.โ€

โ€œI canโ€™t.โ€ Roque winces, stepping out of the way of our fellow lancers and their attendants who file into the villa. โ€œI have to attend the conference on Capitalism in the Governed Age.โ€

โ€œIf you wanted a nap, Iโ€™m sure they have beds in the villa.โ€ โ€œYou joking? Regulus ag Sun is giving the keynote.โ€

I whistle. โ€œQuicksilver himself. So youโ€™re going to learn how to make diamonds out of gravel? You hear the rumor about him owning the contracts of two Olympic Knights?โ€

โ€œItโ€™s not rumor. Least according to Mother. Reminds me of what Augustus said to the Sovereign at her coronation. โ€˜A man is never too young to kill, never too wise, never too strong, but he can damn well be too rich.โ€™ โ€

โ€œArcos said that.โ€

โ€œNo, Iโ€™m sure it was Augustus.โ€

I shake my head. โ€œCheck your facts, brother. Lorn au Arcos said it, and the Sovereign turned to reply, โ€˜You forget, Rage Knight, I am a woman.โ€™ โ€

Arcos is as much myth as man, at least to my generation. Reclusive now, he was the Sword of Mars and the Rage Knight for over sixty years. Peerless Knights across the Society have offered

him the deeds to moons if he would but tutor them for a week in his form ofย kravat, the Willow Way. It was he who sent me the knifeRing that killed Apollo and then offered me a place in his house. I rejected it then, choosing Augustus over the old man.

โ€œ โ€˜You forget, I am a woman,โ€™ โ€ Roque repeats. He cherishes these stories of their empire the way I cherished stories of the Reaper and the Vale. โ€œWhen I get back, letโ€™s talk. Not the usual banter.โ€

โ€œYou mean you wonโ€™t yammer on about a childhood crush, drink too much wine, wax poetic about the shape of Quinnโ€™s smile and the beauty of Etruscan grave sites before falling asleep?โ€ I ask.

His cheeks flush, but he puts a hand over his heart. โ€œOn my honor.โ€

โ€œThen bring a bottle of foolishly expensive wine, and we can talk.โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll bring three.โ€

I watch him leave, eyes colder than my smile.

Several of the other lancers attend the conference with Roque. The rest make themselves comfortable as Augustusโ€™s Gray security teams comb the grounds. Obsidian bodyguards trail Golds like shadows. Pinks sway gracefully into the villa in a constant stream, ordered from the Citadelโ€™s Garden by members of the ArchGovernorโ€™s household staff who find themselves bored from travel and seek a little merriment.

A Pink Citadel steward guides me to my room. I laugh when I arrive. โ€œPerhaps there has been a mistake,โ€ I say, looking around the small room with its adjoining washroom and closet. โ€œIโ€™m not a broom.โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t underโ€”โ€

โ€œHeโ€™s not a broom, so he wonโ€™t fit in this closet,โ€ Theodora says, standing in the doorway behind us. โ€œIt is beneath his station.โ€ She looks around, pert nose sni ng disdainfully. โ€œThese would not even suit as closet toย myย clothes on Mars.โ€

โ€œThis is the Citadel. Not Mars.โ€ The stewardโ€™s pink eyes survey the lines on Theodoraโ€™s aged face. โ€œThere is less room for useless things.โ€

Theodora smiles sweetly and gestures to the rose-quartz tree pinned to the manโ€™s breast. โ€œI say! Is that the black poplar of Garden Dryope?โ€

โ€œYour first time seeing it, I would guess,โ€ he says haughtily before turning to me. โ€œI donโ€™t know how they raised your Pinks in Marsโ€™s Gardens,ย dominus, but on Luna your slave should do her best to look less affected.โ€

โ€œOf course. How rude of me,โ€ Theodora apologizes. โ€œI merely thought you would know Matron Carena.โ€

The steward pauses. โ€œMatron Carena โ€ฆโ€

โ€œWe were girls together in the Gardens. Tell her Theodora says hello and would call on her if time is found.โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re a Rose.โ€ His face goes sheet white.

โ€œWas. All petals wilt. Oh, but do tell me your name. I would so like to commend you to her for your hospitality.โ€

He mumbles something quite inaudible and departs, bowing lower to Theodora than to me.

โ€œWas that fun?โ€ I ask.

โ€œAlways nice to flex a little muscle. Even if everything else is starting to droop.โ€

โ€œSeems my career ends where yours began.โ€ I chuckle morbidly and walk over to the holoDisplay sitting near the bed.

โ€œI wouldnโ€™t,โ€ she says.

I bite my bottom lip, our signal for spying devices.

โ€œWell, of course, that. But the holoNet is โ€ฆ not where you want to be right now.โ€

โ€œWhat are they saying about me?โ€

โ€œTheyโ€™re wondering where youโ€™ll be buried.โ€

I havenโ€™t time to reply before knuckles rap against the frame of my roomโ€™s doorway.

โ€œDominus, Lady tulii requests your presence.โ€

 

 

I follow Victraโ€™s Pink to her roomโ€™s private terrace. Her bath alone is larger than my bed.

โ€œItโ€™s not fair,โ€ a voice says from behind the ivory-white trunk of a lavender tree. I turn to see Victra playing with the thorns of a shrub. โ€œYou being cut loose like a Gray mercenary.โ€

โ€œSince when have you been concerned with whatโ€™s fair, Victra?โ€

โ€œMust you always fence with me?โ€ she asks. โ€œCome sit.โ€ Even with the scars that distinguish her from her sister, her long form and luminous face is without true fault. She sits smoking some designer burner that smells like a sunset over a logged forest. Sheโ€™s heavier of bone than Antonia, taller, and seems to have been melted into being, like a spearhead cooling into angular shape. Her eyes flash with annoyance. โ€œIโ€™m as far from an enemy as you have, Darrow.โ€

โ€œSo what are you? A friend?โ€

โ€œA man in your position could use friends, no?โ€ โ€œIโ€™d rather have a dozen Stained bodyguards.โ€ โ€œWho has the money for that?โ€ she laughs.

I raise an eyebrow. โ€œYou do.โ€

โ€œWell, they couldnโ€™t protect you from yourself.โ€ โ€œIโ€™m a bit more worried about Bellona razors.โ€

โ€œWorry? Is that what I saw on your face as we descended?โ€ She lets a merry sigh escape her lips. โ€œCurious. See, I thought it was dread. Terror. All the truly unsettling things. Because you know this moon will be your grave.โ€

โ€œI thought we werenโ€™t fencing anymore,โ€ I say.

โ€œYouโ€™re right. Itโ€™s just I find you very odd. Or, at least I find your choice in friends to be odd.โ€ She is sitting in front of me on the lip of the fountain. Her heels scrape against the aged stone. โ€œYouโ€™ve always kept me at armโ€™s length while bringing Tactus and Roque close. I understand Roque, even if he is as soft as butter. But Tactus? Itโ€™s like flossing with a viper and expecting not to get bitten. Is it because he was your man at the Institute that you think heโ€™s your friend?โ€

โ€œFriend?โ€ I laugh at the idea. โ€œAfter Tactus told me how his brothers broke his favorite violin when he was a boy, I had Theodora spend half my bank account on a Stradivarius violin from Quicksilverโ€™s auction house. Tactus didnโ€™t thank me. It was as if Iโ€™d handed him a stone. He asked what it was for. I said, โ€˜For you to play.โ€™ He asked why. โ€˜Because weโ€™re friends.โ€™ He looked back down at it and walked away. Two weeks later, I discovered

he took it and sold it and used the money for Pinks and drugs. He is not my friend.โ€

โ€œHeโ€™s what his brothers made him to be,โ€ she notes, hesitating as if reluctant to share her information with me. โ€œWhen do you think heโ€™s ever received something without someone wanting something in return? You made him uncomfortable.โ€

โ€œWhy do you think Iโ€™m wary with you?โ€ I lean closer. โ€œItโ€™s becauseย youย always want something, Victra. tust like your sister.โ€ โ€œAh. I thought it might be Antonia. Sheโ€™s always ruining things.

Ever since the shewolf gnawed her way out of Motherโ€™s womb and stole human clothes. Good that I was born first, else she might have strangled me in my crib. And sheโ€™s only my half sister anyway. Different fathers. Mother never saw much point in monogamy. You know Antonia even goes by Severus instead of tulii just to take a piss on Mother. Cantankerous brat. And I get saddled with her moral baggage. Ridiculous.โ€

Victra plays with the many jade rings on her fingers. I find them odd, contrasting with the Spartan severity of her scarred face. But Victra has always been a woman of contrasts.

โ€œWhy are you talking with me, Victra? I canโ€™t do anything for you. I have no station. I have no command. I have no money. And I have no reputation. All the things you value.โ€

โ€œOh โ€ฆ I value other things too, darling. But you do have a reputation, all right. Plinyโ€™s made sure of that.โ€

โ€œSo he did play a part in the gossip. Thought Tactus was just running his mouth.โ€

โ€œA part? Darrow, heโ€™s been at war with you since the moment you kneeled to Augustus.โ€ She laughs. โ€œBefore then, even. He counseled Augustus to kill you then and there, or at least try you for the murder of Apollo. Didnโ€™t you know?โ€ She shakes her head at my blank stare. โ€œThe fact that youโ€™re just now realizing this shows just how ill-equipped you are to play his game. And because of that, youโ€™re going to be killed. Thatโ€™s why Iโ€™m speaking with you. Iโ€™d rather you found an alternative instead of sulking in your beastly quarters. Otherwise, Cassius au Bellona is going to come and heโ€™s going to take a knife and dig right here โ€ฆโ€ She caresses my chest with a long-nailed finger, etching

the outline of my heart. โ€œโ€ฆ and give his mother her first real meal in years.โ€

โ€œThen what is your suggestion?โ€

โ€œYou stop being such a little bitch.โ€ She smiles up at me and holds out a dataSlip. Grudgingly, I take the edge of the thin metal slip, but she holds on, pulling me toward the edge of the fountain, between her legs. Her lips part, her tongue playing along the top as her eyes trace my face, up and up to my eyes, where they try to spark a fire. But thereโ€™s none there; with a feline sigh, she lets the dataSlip go. I run it over my personal datapad and an advertisement for a tavern appears on my display.

โ€œThis isnโ€™t on Citadel grounds,โ€ I say. โ€œSo?โ€

โ€œSo, if I leave, itโ€™s open season on my head.โ€ โ€œThen donโ€™t advertise your leaving.โ€

I take a step back. โ€œHow much are they paying you?โ€ โ€œYou think this is a setup!โ€

โ€œIs it?โ€

โ€œNo.โ€

โ€œHow do I know youโ€™re telling the truth?โ€ โ€œMost people canโ€™t afford the truth. I can.โ€ โ€œOh, thatโ€™s right. I forgot. You never lie.โ€

โ€œI am of theย gens Julii.โ€ She stands slowly, anger uncoiling like

a razor. โ€œMy family trades in commerce enough to buy continents. Who could afford to purchase my honor?ย If โ€ฆย one day I become your enemy, I will tell you. And I will tell you why.โ€

โ€œEveryoneโ€™s honest till theyโ€™re caught in a lie.โ€

Her laugh is husky and makes me feel small and boyish, reminding me sheโ€™s seven years older than I. โ€œThen stay, Reaper. Trust in chance. Trust inย friends. Hide here till someone buys your contract, and pray they didnโ€™t do it just to serve you up to the Bellona like a suckling pig.โ€

I weigh the odds and extend a hand to help her up. โ€œWell, when you put it that way โ€ฆโ€

โ€œColonel Valentin?โ€ Victra asks the shorter of the two Grays who wait for us on the ramp of the shuttle. Itโ€™s a shit can. One of the ugliest fliers Iโ€™ve ever seen. Like the front half of a hammerhead shark. I eye the taller of the Grays warily.

โ€œYes,ย domina,โ€ Valentin says, nodding his cinderblock head

with the rigid precision of a man risen through the ranks. โ€œYou are sure you were not followed?โ€

โ€œCertain as death,โ€ Victra says. โ€œWe should depart fastlike, then.โ€

I follow Victra into the shuttle, scanning the grounds behind us. We wore ghostCloaks as soon as we departed Augustusโ€™s villa. A dozen hidden hallways and six old gravLifts later, we arrived in a dusty, seldom-used section of the Citadelโ€™s launch pads. Theodora left us there. She wanted to come, but I wonโ€™t take her where weโ€™re going.

A Gray scans Victra and me for bugs as we board the ship.

The shipโ€™s ramp slides closed behind us. Twelve craggy Grays fill the small passenger hold of the shuttle. Theyโ€™re not the dashing sort. tust craftsmen of a dark trade.

Though there are averages, Colors are diverse in composition due to human genetics and the differing ecosystems throughout the Society. The Grays of Venus are often darker and more compact than those of Mars, but families move and mix and breed. The talent levels in each Color are even more variable than appearance. Most Grays arenโ€™t destined for anything more than patrolling shopping centers and city streets. Some go to the armies. Some to the mines. But then there are the Grays who were born a special breed of wicked and clever and have been trained all their lives to hunt the Gold enemies of their Gold masters. Like these in the shuttle with us. They call them lurchers

โ€”after the mutt dogs of Earth crossbred for uncommon stealth, cunning, and speed, all for one purpose: killing things bigger than they are.

โ€œWeโ€™re bound for Lost City and itโ€™s just the twelve of you?โ€ I ask.

I know theyโ€™re enough. I just donโ€™t like Grays. So I push their buttons.

They eye me with the quiet reserve of a family meeting a stranger on the road. Valentinโ€™s the father. Heโ€™s built like a squat block of dirty ice carved by a rusted blade, and his sun-blasted face is dark and set with quick eyes. His lieutenant, Sun-hwa, leans toward us, tough and gnarled as an olive tree.

Both are Earthborn by the looks of their continentally ethnic features. These Grays wear no triangular badge of the Societyโ€™s Legion on their civilian street clothes. Means theyโ€™ve served their mandatory twenty years.

โ€œWeโ€™re tasked with your protection,ย dominus,โ€ says Valentin as

Sun-hwa loads an exotic circular weapon on the inside of her left wrist. Looks plasma based. โ€œMy team has prepared a secure route. Estimated traveling time: twenty-four minutes.โ€

โ€œIf Pliny finds out where Iโ€™m going, or if the Bellona know Iโ€™m out of the Citadel โ€ฆโ€

โ€œThe lurchers know the situation,โ€ Victra says. โ€œI donโ€™t see a Gold badge. Mercenaries?โ€

โ€œMeans we are good enough to live this long,ย dominus,โ€

Valentin says flatly. โ€œWeโ€™ve prepared for all eventualities. Contingency plans and support have been organized.โ€

โ€œHow much support?โ€

โ€œEnough. Weโ€™re just the transporters,ย dominus.โ€ His mouth twitches into a smile and I take his word for it. โ€œBigger problem than the Bellona is third parties thinking an opportunityโ€™s just stumbled their way. Where weโ€™re going, there will be a hell of a lot of third parties,ย dominus. Shit complicates our ROI. Sun-hwa?โ€ โ€œWear this.โ€ Sun-hwa tosses me a bag of plain clothing. Her voice drones on in a monotone drawl. โ€œYouโ€™re tall canโ€™t do shitall about that but weโ€™ll do a quick dye job with this this and this.โ€

She tosses Victra another bag. โ€œFor you. Boss thought youโ€™d dress too fancy.โ€

Victra laughs at that.

โ€œMuzzles off, boys,โ€ Valentin barks as the ship trembles and rises in the air. โ€œWeโ€™re live.โ€ Thumpers and burners prime in practiced hands. Staccato sound of steel on steel. Like metal knuckles cracking as magnetic rounds go into chambers. The lurchers conceal weapons in hidden holsters over tight scarabSkin armor. Three wear illegal wrist weapons. I eye the contraband as

I slip into my scarabSkin. It drinks in the light, a strange pupil- like black. More the absence of color than anything else. Better than the duroArmor we had at the Institute, itโ€™ll stop some blades and the occasional projectile weapon like the common scorcher.

The ship shudders as its main engines overtake the vertical thrusters.

โ€œTalon and Minotaur, be advised. Icarus is on the move,โ€ Valentin rasps into his com. โ€œRepeat. Icarus is on the move.โ€

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