When John arrived at the mine’s airdock it had already been conquered. Arbiters walked around busy loading and unloading the cargo craft. John noticed diluvian crystals being loaded onto one and explosives onto another. The quantity was enough to fill the entire cargo craft. This would create an explosion that would make the whole city shake. John wondered if they were overdoing it. No, they were professionals. They knew what they were doing.
Tiluniel stood on one of the wings of a cargo craft, gazing at the sunset. “We shall leave in six hours,” she announced. “Finish loading the material and then rest while you still can. Ten volunteers are to free all the prisoners in the mine in the meantime. Do not let them take up weapons, in case they turn on us.” Would the miners’ eyes light up with life after hearing they were free? John wanted to see them smile and laugh, but he decided against it. He was an integral part of the plan and shouldn’t wander around.
“What can those poor wretches do to us?” asked one of the arbiters.
“Never underestimate these humans,” said Tiluniel.
Human. Was John still one of them? He had been one in his previous life, but now? He’d lived most of his life in isolation, brought up by an Astari holocube. He’d spent the rest of his life on a starship with an army of elves. Though most of them treated him with disdain they had not been cruel, except for that Edrach. The first time he’d seen a human in this new life he’d been captured and turned into a slave. He didn’t know what to think of ‘humans.’ The values of Earth did not seem to apply to the humans John had seen so far.
John sat in a corner and chatted with Nem. Nem’s life as a traveling troubadour fascinated him. He had been to so many places on the planet and John enjoyed listening to tales of his journey. John now had two friends. He could not talk to Karamen the way he could to Nem. Six hours soon passed.
“Are you staying here or coming with us,” John asked Nem as he prepared to depart. He’d rather that Nem remained safe in the mines.
“He must accompany our merry band of arsonists,” Karamen overheard them. “We shall need a guide when we enter the city.”
“I want to come,” Nem said with grim determination, his hands turning to fists. “I have to find my family before all hell breaks loose.”
“That’s the spirit,” Karamen patted him on the back. John hoped that nothing bad would happen to him.
The aircraft took off vertically, and slowly but steadily progressed towards the city. They flew low, transponders off. At the outskirts of the city some of the aircraft split off from the group to make their way to the factories. The rest flew to the center of the city. Curfew had begun and the streets were deserted. Most of the lights in the houses were off. The only activity was in the outskirts, where vehicles drove in an unending line of light.
“We shall soon paint this city red with fire,” Karamen rubbed his hands gleefully.
“What about collateral damage?” John asked.
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“What about it? This is war and they are humans.”
“I’m human.”
“You’re different. You’re Wild Child,” Karamen dismissed John’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “War is cruel but you have a good heart, young wild one. We shall endeavor to minimize civilian casualties. So relax and be carefree. The worst that can happen to us is mere death.” How was he different? This was about blood and DNA. He’d never thought that even Karamen was a racist.
Nem stayed quiet during the conversation, but his face was deadly pale. John nodded at Nem and smiled. Nem smiled back.
“After we mark our targets an arbiter will accompany you to find your family,” Karamen said kindly. “They shall be kept safe. We repay our friends with kindness and our foes with agonizing death.”
“You are so certain of success?” Nem asked.
“Why, of course. The God King is but one man. He took us by surprise earlier. This time the tables will be turned. His soldiers are not worth mentioning.” The guards that John had seen so far stood no chance against arbiters, who could phase and cover vast distances in mere moments.
The aircraft reached the city and hovered over the central square. The elves hurriedly removed cargo and placed them in neat piles on the ground. They were very efficient.
“We shall place our snare there,” Karamen pointed to the boulevard. “Arastin, make sure you rig the explosives so that the crystal shards fly high into the sky. The God King will most probably be above us when we lead him hither.”
“That can be easily arranged,” said the arbiter.
“How soon will your explosive debut be ready?”
“In an hour.”
“Good, we must choose our audience carefully this time. Guard the perimeter,” he ordered the arbiters. “Kill any that enter.”
The arbiters hid in a circle around the boulevard, ready to attack any wandering guardsmen. Any civilian breaking the curfew would pay for it with their life. John could do nothing about that. The element of surprise was too important to their plan. If even one civilian or guard escaped their net and reported it, they’d all be massacred by the God King before they even stood a chance.
A frantic hour passed for John. Karamen called him over, “Why so nervous? Don’t worry. The stage will not let us fall so early in the play. The audience would not allow it.” He handed John a remote detonator. “Hide in that balcony yonder and activate your stealth circuit. Press the button as soon as the Pervert King is within range. It will probably take us a few hours to draw out that knave.”
John nodded. He could do that. He would definitely not screw up.
“Now young Nem,” Karamen said to the youth, “Lead us on to glory. To the armories first, where we shall loot and burn to our hearts content.”
John was left all alone. He grew bored of his spot on the balcony and climbed to the roof. From his vantage point he could see fires breaking throughout the city. The arbiters moved quickly. It did not look so bad. John wondered if it would draw out the God King at all. Black clouds rose near the outskirts where the factories were. John wasn’t sure if it was smoke or something natural. He saw numerous aircraft fly into the sky only to be shot down by rockets. The arbiters must have gotten their hands on quite the arsenal. John then observed a strong golden light shine from the central palace. The God King was finally making his move. He saw the golden light dart quickly from one spot to another, rays of light hitting the ground. John felt the ground tremor. Houses began to light up, one after another, and he could faintly hear the sound of screams. Tiluniel must have made her move by now, infiltrating the palace to rescue the leader and Sor Al.
John saw the arbiters approach, all spread out, phasing from the roof of one building to another. There were far fewer of them than had set out. John saw the God King fly above them, white light striking one arbiter after another. Too many had died. Even victory would not be able to blot out their loss. The arbiters were too few and these deaths would be felt keenly.
“Stop trying to escape your fate, miserable vermin. Stay still and die,” the God King screamed shrilly.
“Very well,” Karamen laughed. “Have it your own way.”
The God King hovered over the boulevard while the arbiters turned around as one, ready to face him. John’s hands shook with nervousness. This was it. The big finale. He pressed the button. An explosion of red sprayed to the sky, powder and shards falling like rain onto the asphalt square. Drained of aura, the God King began to descend. John felt his own aura react wildly within him. The large range of the explosion ensured that the God King would have no room to maneuver. This was their one and only chance.