"Indeed."
"How long will we have to remain?"
"Until it is safe..."
"Will it ever be if he comes to power?"


The rapid-fire conversation, born of decades of practice and intimate knowledge of each others' thoughts, came to an abrupt end.

Petresun was insane. Many of the Brotherhood agreed with this assessment: it was his neurotic terror of death that had led to the construction of Prometheus in the first place. It was a wonder the man could sleep at night knowing that his neurosis had led to the death of billions, to the destruction of half a dozen worlds. Or perhaps it only added to his insanity.

The Brotherhood still did his bidding though, which proved they were not much better. The man should be committed, not be raised up to a higher place of power yet.

But they had grown addicted to their powers as well, and saw Petresun as their ticket to greatness.

And they killed those who disagreed.

Rosalia shook her head sadly. "Sa Thauri was a strong city. Perhaps someone remains."

"I will go there. And you?"
"No. I have friends who can hide me for a few days while I finish up some business here."
"Optimum window for Venus intercept closes tomorrow."
Rosalia nodded, said bleakly, "I know. I plan to search the outer system, the Kuiper colonies, to see if there are any survivors."
"You would let me go alone?"
"Just for a little while. I'll catch up as soon as I return."
"That'll be two, three years!"
Rosalia shrugged. "Patience, sis. We're Immortal, remember?"
Bitterly: "How could I forget?"
"Indeed..."
Rosa's comm beeped. She looked at it. "The Brotherhood's tracked us. We must go."

They had disappeared into a nearby building, one of the many in the ancient city that was still riddled with secret tunnels from back in the Devastation. After several hours of navigating the narrow passages, they emerged near the docks. Rosalia had her small catamaran waiting, and they boarded, fired it up, and took off down the coast toward the Gibraltar locks.

"Jocelyn," Rosalia said softly.
"Indeed."
"She has been silent."
"She does not agree with Petresun either, but she does not speak."
"Oh?"
"She hates him. He has no concept of right-and-wrong."
"Can Petresun see this?"
"No. She hides it well. He trusts her."
"So she is safe?"
"As safe as anyone near him."
"Should we..."
"Tell her? She won't come. She wants to try to change his mind."
"Is she mad?"
"She cares too much..."
"I see..."

And so, their younger sister was not told. Rosalia left a time-delayed message on the Omniweb, to be sent to her in several weeks. "Sa Thauri," was all it said. It would be enough.

Hopefully she would understand.


Sound. Footsteps clanking on the rattling metal steps in the stairwell. She looked up.

Clank. Clank. Slow as the footfalls of a ghost.

"So it begins," she said softly, as the keening notes of "Ashes in the Wind" underscored her voice. Two years of art and music, finally interrupted by madness.

Or perhaps it was just the ghosts, come to drive her from their home. She had overstayed her welcome and now would be pushed out into the acid.

Clank. Clank.

Louder now. Echoing with the sound of her heart slamming in her chest. Her breath came faster.

Perhaps a Cybrid infantry drone still survived, and had discovered Sa Thauri's new semi-operational status. Perhaps she would soon feel the searing heat of lasers burning her flesh.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

And it stopped, just outside the door. She cowered, pressing her body into the corner and curling up into a fetal ball.

Clank. Ker-chunk.
Hiss... as the door opened.
She drew deeper into her shell.
Felt a touch, flinched. Trembled.
"Oh sis..."
A hand, soft skin against her tear-stained cheek, gentle arms wrapping around her and pulling her close.
"Ros...?" Her voice broke, and sobs shook her. Tears poured from her eyes, soaking her face, running down her sister's hand.
"Shh," she said. "I'm here now. I'm so sorry I didn't come with you..." She held her sister more tightly, shielding her from the outside world.
"They're--"

---