Genocide Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Last Archide: Genocide

  Dedication

  Paradise Lost

  Pulling at the Thread

  The Best Laid Plans

  Rescue

  Cornered

  The Killing Field

  The Architect of Chaos

  Destabilization

  Rescue

  The Only Constant

  The Butcher

  Body Guards and Keys

  Brain Patterns

  Lengthening Shadows

  Genocide

  The Next Stage of the Journey

  Cadron Valac

  The Gamble

  The Last Archide Series

  About the Author

  The Last Archide

  Copyright © 2018 by Chad R. Odom.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced in any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues, in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is completely coincidental.

  Cover design by Ampersand Virtual

  To my mother who showed me it was ok to be who I am and for my kids who seem to think I’m cool.

  Paradise Lost

  “Don’t misunderstand, I’m happy to see you again, but I didn’t expect another visit so soon,” Eldar said to Celeste as she entered his home. “And, without your husband as well. Something seems amiss.”

  Oryan had departed at first light and she had not slept since. His calming presence left when he did, and her suspicions rose to much more elevated levels. She fed her anxiety on the ideas that only a few hours earlier were passing worries.

  Eldar was understandably concerned. At first, she wasn’t inclined to speak to him so he did what he could to pry out the source of her melancholy.

  “Is everything alright with you and Oryan?” he asked.

  Her answer was labored and unsure. “Yes. No. Well, yes. Yes. Everything between us is great. It’s never been better, actually.”

  “Asher’s ok?”

  “It’s not Asher. It’s not Oryan. It’s…it’s this place.”

  Eldar’s eyebrow rose. “This place?”

  Celeste threw up her arms. “That’s just it. I don’t know. Everyone here is so wonderful to us. We couldn’t ask for more. Somehow, something just doesn’t sit right and I don’t know what it is. Is it just me?”

  Eldar smiled ever so gently. “Have you told Oryan how you feel?”

  “Of course.”

  “And what did he say about it?”

  She shrugged. “Not much. He said we could leave whenever we want.”

  Celeste rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, then through her red hair. “Now he’s gone and I feel alone. Not alone, isolated.”

  “When did you start feeling this way?”

  “From the moment I woke up. It’s like I’m being studied or scrutinized or something. Not judged. I’m used to that. This is different. Like there’s something evil behind this façade that I can’t put my finger on. That sounds so extreme. I’m sorry.”

  Eldar didn’t make eye contact with her, looking around the room with an expression that betrayed him. There was something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure he could say it.

  “What do you know?”

  He continued to squirm.

  She stood up, walked to him, and took his hand in hers. He looked into her brown eyes, which pleaded with him to help assuage her anxieties. “Eldar, please. I need to know.”

  He looked lovingly back. “Have you seen my new flowers?” he asked as he stood up and pulled her by the hand to the door. “They’re beautiful, but they only come out a few minutes of every day and its right about now. Come see them with me.”

  She was aggravated that he was dodging her question, but followed him out. They traversed a few rows of his garden and into a small, intricate archway where vines and flowers of various shapes and colors hung. He walked almost to the end of the archway before stopping. “Here they are!”

  Celeste looked at the vine he held gently in his hand. There were buds on all sides but no flowers yet. “Eldar, I need to know.”

  He sighed heavily. “Do you see this vine?”

  She snapped, “Yes, I see it! Eldar, I need—”

  “It’s an amazing plant,” he cut her off and continued to speak calmly. “Like almost everything in my garden, it has so many purposes. Aside from being an elegant covering to my archway here, it smells wonderfully after it rains and, when mixed with the right herb, makes a potent aphrodisiac.” He smiled slyly. “But, I think the reason I like it the most is that it’s a very effective sound insulator. Why, I can guarantee that even if you stood only a few feet away from us right now, you wouldn’t be able to hear a word we’re saying, even if we were the only noise in the garden.”

  Celeste dialed down her frustration and, instead began to listen.

  “There was another person who came to me once, talking like you are. He was still a young man, then, but he had already started to venture into the outside world more than most. At first, I thought his time in the outside world had made him paranoid.”

  “You’re talking about Armay,” Celeste concluded.

  “He started digging. Asking questions. After a while, with the evidence he was presenting, I couldn’t deny his worries any longer.”

  “What did he find out?”

  “Evidence of a traitor. Not just anyone, and certainly not Marphan but someone who knows a lot of things they shouldn’t, and someone who’s been here a long time.”

  “Sicari?”

  Eldar shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think Armay was right? Do you believe there’s a traitor here?”

  Eldar shook his head again. “I don’t know.”

  Celeste’s anxieties were being confirmed and in the worst possible way. Her stomach rose to her throat. “Eldar, you need to be honest with me. Do you believe Armay?”

  With watery eyes, Eldar looked at Celeste and uttered a single, chilling word. “Yes.”

  Celeste took a half step backward. She listened to every noise in the garden and looked at every shadow suspiciously. Then, the fighter in her responded, “What did he know? You said he had evidence, what evidence?”

  “Oh, Celeste, I don’t remember all of that. But,” Eldar said quietly, “there’s a possibility he kept a record of what he found.”

  “Where would it be?”

  Eldar wore a defeated look. “I can only imagine he kept it on his scroll. That’s why I didn’t give it to Sicari when I took it from you while you were healing. If Armay was right, he may have the evidence on that scroll. Who do I trust?”

  “Oryan looked at the scroll. He said there wasn’t anything there,” she told him.

  “Was he asking about Armay’s hunt for Damrich?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I think so.”

  “Scrolls are amazing, but not that intuitive. They’ll give you any answer you want, but only if you ask the right questions.

  “Look at that!” he derailed again. “The flowers are waking up. Didn’t I tell you they were beautiful?”

  Radiant, shimmering flowers were all around her. Her focus on Eldar and this conversation had made her miss their arrival. They were truly beautiful. Like raindrops that hung in the air, the light bounced off them brilliantly.

  ***

  Celeste
held a small round bowl Eldar had given Oryan. He called it a lens. It was no larger than her palm, the top was nearly covered, leaving only a small hole in the middle for the scroll to be placed into.

  In her other hand, she held the small blue jewel she had removed from the necklace that used to belong to Oryan’s mother. She was high above the camp in a secluded place she and Oryan had found on one of their walks. It was the only place she could think of where she would be away from prying eyes and ears.

  She set the lens down on the ground, and with more than one beat skipped in her heart, she turned her hand over until the jewel fell into the center. It bounced in the bottom, then rolled around for a second until it settled.

  She stood back. Nothing happened. Eldar had told her it was that simple. There were no buttons to push, no secret password, just drop in the scroll and the lens should read it. Her heart sank.

  She kneeled to retrieve the lens when a male voice stopped her.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” it said.

  She fell backward, startled at not only the voice, but also the person now standing in front of her. He was tall, with a broad chest and white clothing. As she regained her senses, she looked at him closer. His face was foreign, but the mannerisms, the emotion behind his eyes…Those were Oryan.

  “Armay?” she asked hesitantly.

  “That’s who I am. Who are you?”

  She slowly stood from the floor. She was right! The trouble was, she hadn’t thought about what to say or what to do if she was successful.

  “I…I’m Celeste,” she managed.

  He nodded. “Hello, Celeste.”

  “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi back.” He gave her a moment but when she didn’t say anything else, he spoke. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, what can I do for you?”

  “You’re…you’re…” She circled Armay, trying to find anything that would convince her he was only a projection. Aside from his feet not touching the ground, she couldn’t tell. She had been to the Oracle. She knew what it could do, but that was the Oracle. She was in her favorite spot to stop with Oryan while they were on walks.

  “I’m just a projection, yes. You’re obviously not from the camp.”

  She shook her head and then gathered herself. “No. Well, yes, that’s where I am now, but I wasn’t born here. This is all new to me.”

  He smiled at her. “Well, we’ve established a lot. You’re Celeste. I’m Armay. You’re a flesh and blood human. I’m not. I’m from here, you’re not, and we can both greet each other effectively!”

  She returned the smile. His sense of humor was sarcastic, hinting on dry. Just like his son’s. “It’s good to meet you,” she said.

  “I’m sure the feeling is mutual, but I still don’t know who you are or why you’re talking to me.”

  Celeste wasn’t sure what to say. For some reason, she didn’t want to say too much. She didn’t know how these scrolls worked, but if it kept a record of this conversation, she had to be careful. What if someone else found this and started asking who knew what? She could be in danger, but worse, so could Oryan and Asher. Just giving her name was probably already too much. She mentally kicked herself.

  “A friend sent me,” she said.

  “May I ask, which friend?”

  “No, but that friend told me you’d be the only one who could tell me what I want to know.”

  “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know about the people in the camp.”

  “Sicari or Corvus would be better at telling you that. Eldar, maybe.”

  “What I want to know isn’t something they would tell me anyway, if they even knew. I want to know who the traitor in the camp is.”

  Armay gave her a puzzled look. “Traitor? I don’t know anything about a traitor. Who did you say sent you to me?”

  Her heart sank again, this time in crushing defeat. “You don’t know anything?”

  “I know plenty, but nothing about a traitor.”

  She shook her head slowly in disbelief and muttered to herself. “This can’t be. There has to be something else.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you with this. Is there anything else you need?”

  “There has to be something else,” she whispered again. Her mind raced to think of what she had missed. Was there a different question she needed to ask?

  She stopped thinking about the question and started to think about scrolls. They were like a really detailed journal. They could answer questions, but only about what had been recorded on them. Once you sealed them, nothing else could be recorded. Her mind stuck on that. What if…?

  “Armay! Is there any part of your scroll that’s sealed?”

  “Scrolls can only be sealed as a whole. The technology to seal them in portions is long lost.”

  “I get that, but is there any part of your scroll that is sealed?”

  A pensive look came over his face, followed by a puzzled one. “Yes, there is. I’m not sure how that’s possible, but it’s there. It seems to be a very small portion, but even I didn’t notice until you asked and I looked.”

  Hope was renewed for Celeste. “Can you access it?”

  “I’ll try.”

  The image blurred, and then shifted for a moment. Armay was still there, but his face seemed older, more worn.

  “Who are you?” Armay asked again, this time more gruffly than before.

  “A friend,” she replied.

  “If you are a friend, state your purpose.”

  “I need to know about the traitor in the camp,” she said, then held her breath waiting for the reply.

  “I had a wife outside the camp. What was her name?”

  “Kathrine,” Celeste answered him.

  “That is correct. Kathrine had a name for a son, if we ever had one. Will you give it to me?”

  “Oryan?” she replied quickly, but somewhat unsure of herself.

  “That is correct. What makes a diamond?”

  She smiled from ear-to-ear. Before she spoke, her heart flooded with the deep assurance that providence had been on her side all along.

  “To be a perfect man, takes more than just desire. What makes a rock a diamond, is stress and fire.”

  At first, Armay did not respond. It looked as though he was verifying the response in his own mind.

  “That is correct. Who are you?” he asked again.

  “A friend?” she restated, feeling the excitement of knowing his riddles fade.

  “If you are a friend, state your purpose.”

  Once again, feeling her hopes falter, she half-heartedly repeated herself. “I need to know about the traitor in the camp.”

  This time, the response was different.

  “I can help you.”

  “Who is the traitor in the camp?”

  “I’m sorry. My answers are limited.”

  “You don’t know who the traitor in the camp is?”

  “No.”

  “Then, what can you tell me?”

  “I can tell you there is a traitor and that it took me many years to uncover who it was. I can tell you that, if you’re here, you’re in danger. You have to be careful not to raise suspicion. The traitor squeezes pressure points, if you have them. No matter how benevolent he seems, he’ll protect himself at all costs.”

  “So, I’m in danger, I have to watch my back and the backs of a few others in the camp, but I don’t know from who. So, still, I’m back to square one.”

  “There’s more information.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I have more than one scroll.”

  Celeste pounced on the statement. “Where is your other scroll?”

  “This scroll has a geographical tracker on it. It can sense where I am anywhere on the planet. The information you’re seeking has an added security feature that is not allowing me to give you that specific information at this time. However, should you ask that question while in the correct geographical location, that security feature w
ill disable and, at that time, I can give you additional information.”

  “Where do I need to go?”

  “My last duty station in Acamar.”

  “Where in Acamar?”

  “I’m sorry, my answers are limited.”

  Celeste’s mind was buzzing, trying to remember every detail Oryan told her about Armay and where he’d served. Her memory came up empty. She had to somehow figure out how to get to Armay’s last duty station when not even Armay knew.

  The sound of rocks under feet followed by a male voice cursing the ground shook her from her concentration. She felt as though she was about to be caught breaking the law. Her heart began to race and she started to look for an off switch.

  “Where is it, where is it!” she muttered as she turned the lens around and around. She tried turning it upside down and dumping out the scroll. It seemed held in midair and refused to budge.

  “What are you looking for?” Armay asked.

  “How to turn you off!” she quietly exclaimed.

  “Terminate program,” he said and was gone.

  Just as the man she heard came around the bend, she slipped the scroll and the lens behind a rock that concealed them from immediate view. Trying her best to not look guilty, she began walking down the path, as if she was returning from an afternoon trek.

  “Fancy meeting you out here,” Corvus said.

  She jumped a bit, doing her best to act as if he had startled her. “Well, Oryan’s gone and Asher’s at school. It gave me some time to clear my head.”

  Corvus eyed her suspiciously. “But not before you talked to Eldar first.”

  She felt her cheeks flush. What did he know? “Good days start with good friends.”

  “And where’s your friend, now?”

  “Eldar? Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “I don’t mean Eldar. I thought I heard a man’s voice up here.” He looked past her at the empty trail behind.

  She swallowed hard. “Just me. I do tend to talk to myself while I walk.”

  “Uh huh,” Corvus replied, looking back at her. “You’ve been asking some strange questions, haven’t you?” She swallowed again but shut her mouth tightly. “I haven’t seen Eldar disappear into his archway with someone in a long time.”