The Fallen Legacies

CHAPTER 24

Night has fallen. The jungle around me is alive with strange noises. I should be worried about what kinds of animals are out there, snapping branches as they stalk me, hissing around my ankles. But there are other, more dangerous predators in the jungle tonight. Ones that I need to stop.

I run through the jungle with only a vague idea of where I’m going. Maybe running isn’t exactly accurate-more like stumbling; it seems like every vine on the jungle floor has a mind to trip me. It’s so dark out here, I’m practically blind. My knees and elbows are scraped from falls, my face cut from the branches slapping against it. Still, I press on toward the ravine.

The communicator on my hip buzzes with static. I swiped it before sneaking out of the aid-worker hut. My plan is simple, the best I can do under such circumstances. Get to Hannu and his Cepan, tell them what’s happening and use the communicator to monitor my people’s movements. Hopefully, with Hannu’s knowledge of the jungle, we’ll be able to stay one step ahead of the soon-to-be-arriving strike team. It won’t be easy-because of the remote location, my father has authorized a larger unit than normal, including a piken-but I know how my people think, how they attack. I can do this.

All I have to do is get to Hannu first. A task this thick jungle isn’t making very easy.

When the jungle begins to thin out before me, moonlight shining through the canopy overhead, I know that I’m close. I can hear rushing water in the distance, the river coursing through the nearby ravine.

And then I see it. A single, solidly built hut. The jungle around it has been painstakingly cleared, leaving a flat expanse that’s littered with angular mahogany equipment. As my eyes adjust, I realize the objects are some kind of homemade obstacle course. So Hannu does more training than just pickup basketball games in the village. That’s good. He’ll need to be agile for what’s to come.

I approach the hut cautiously. The last thing I need is to spook Hannu and his Cepan. If he’s anything like Conrad Hoyle, Hannu’s Cepan might emerge from that hut with guns blazing.

I stop, stiffening, the hair on the back of my neck rising. Footsteps are crashing through the jungle behind me. I break out in a cold sweat despite the African heat.

I turn to see Ivan emerging from the jungle. In the moonlight, I see a trickle of sweat roll down his cheek, his face contorted in a humorless smile.

“Clever Adamus,” he sneers, “thought you’d get away with this.”

He’s on to me.

“With what?” I ask, stalling.

I glance over my shoulder at the hut. There’s no movement inside, the sounds Ivan and I are making drowned out by the jungle. I’ll stop Ivan if I have to, but I hope it won’t come to that. Maybe I can still talk my way out of this.

I walk back towards the edge of the clearing, standing inches away from Ivan.

“Get out of here, Ivan,” I say, trying to sound as intimidating as possible.

He snorts, disbelieving. “What? And let you try to steal all the glory? You’ll probably freeze up again.”

And then I realize what dim-witted Ivan thinks I’m doing out here. He doesn’t think I’ve come to warn Hannu; such treason isn’t even a possibility to him. Ivan thinks I’ve come to capture or kill Hannu myself, just like he assumed I did with Number Two.

“You didn’t even bring any weapons,” Ivan observes mockingly. “Are you going to talk the Loric to death?”

He’s right. I came unarmed, hoping it would help convince Hannu to trust me. Also, I never intended to actually fight my people, only evade them. I hoped that violence could be avoided.

With speed that surprises Ivan, I snake my hand forward and rip the dagger off his belt. His jaw drops when I hurl the weapon into the jungle.

“Adamus,” he exclaims, sounding hurt, like a kid who’s had his favorite toy broken. “What the hell? You better help me look for that.”

I grab Ivan by the front of his shirt and put my face in his. He’s surprised again, not used to being manhandled. I stare into his eyes, trying to reach him. I know it’s crazy, but Ivan used to be my best friend, despite everything. I have to believe that he’ll still listen to me.

“Why do this?” I ask. “Killing them won’t heal our planet. It won’t lead to Mogadorian progress. It’ll only lead to more killing. More life wasted. Is that what you want?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Adamus?”

He stares at me, dumbfounded. I shake him.

“We don’t always get along,” I continue, “but you’re like a brother to me. You trust me, don’t you?”

Mutely, Ivan nods his head.

“Then trust me when I tell you that everything we’ve been told is wrong,” I say desperately. “Our cause is unjust, Ivan. We can change that. You can help me work towards-toward real Mogadorian progress.”

I can see him trying to make sense of my words, confusion on his face. He looks away from me, over my shoulder, to the hut where Hannu and his Cepan sleep. For a moment I allow myself to think that I’ve gotten through to him.

Then he shoves me away. He’s finally realized what I’m up to, and it disgusts him.

“I always knew you were weak, Adamus,” hisses Ivan, “but not a traitor too.”

That settles it.

I unclip the communicator from my belt and slam it into the side of Ivan’s face.