Lost Era 05_ Deny thy Father - Jeff Mariotte [115]
Dennis turned and shoved his way through the crowd, leaving Will standing there watching him go. Dennis had really ticked him off-refusing to accept responsibility for one’s own actions was something Will hated, and Dennis seemed intent on making a lifelong pattern of it. But part of him couldn’t help feeling hurt, wounded, by Dennis’s accusation, and by the bitter tone in his one-time friend’s voice. And underneath the anger there was another feeling-a vague idea that maybe Dennis was right about more than Will wanted to admit. Felicia had implied many of the same things about him.
Will was excited about getting posted to a starship and seeing some action, but at the same time, he thought, a change of scenery might be a good opportunity to take a long, hard look at his own life. It might just be, he thought, that it’s time to make some changes.
Chapter 29
More than a year had passed since Kyle Riker had last seen Earth, and the sight of his home planet filling the shuttle’s viewscreen filled him with a sense of joy that took him by surprise. He knew there were still dangers ahead, and difficult times, but he would meet them on his home turf and face them in a way that he hadn’t been equipped for when he had let them drive him away before.
Getting to this point had been a challenge, to be sure. The night Michelle died had ranked right up there with the worst nights of his life. The police had been out in force that night, he remembered, clustered together in groups on street corners, armored and tense. They had stared at him as he passed by, a ragged-looking man with what might have been blood sprayed across his face and clothing, but they hadn’t stopped him. He figured he looked too beaten down to be much of a threat.
Kyle knew that when things went downhill they would happen fast, but even he was unprepared for the velocity and brutality of the next morning’s events. Instead of waiting for Cetra and the others to give themselves up, the army simply returned to The End in full force, with far more soldiers and machines than they had used the day before. The tanks rumbled into the old part of Cozzen five abreast, not paying attention to where the roads wound. They made their own roads. The ancient buildings barely slowed them down. When they approached one that looked more substantial than the rest they simply fired upon it before they got to it, their energy beams lancing across the early morning landscape and blowing huge chunks from the walls. Then the tanks rolled forward, their sheer mass finishing the job their guns had started. Soldiers, on foot and in troop carriers, came behind, using their handheld weapons on any who survived the destruction of their homes. Smaller and weaker structures were merely ground into dust by the big machines.
Kyle had finally fallen asleep in an alley, but the thunder and crash of the army’s advance woke him up early. It took a few moments to get his bearings-he felt hungover, though this hangover had only to do with grief, not with drink-but once he figured out where he was, he ran through the chaotic streets to Cetra’s place to warn her. When he got there, he saw that a police unit had already raided her place. As Kyle watched, helpless to stop it, Cetra was led out of the building with her hands in shackles by five uniformed police officers, the shortest of whom towered over her by half a meter. Another dozen stood outside the building around an armored vehicle, as casually as if this were any other day, any other job.
“Cetra!” Kyle cried, oblivious to the risk this raised for him.
“It’s okay, Joe,” she said, tossing him her most gentle, motherly smile. “You can’t worry about me. You take care of what you can.” The police led her into the vehicle and slammed the doors.
Taking care of what he could was his intention, although he thought it might sadden Cetra to know that his goal had nothing to do with Cyre, or Hazimot.