The general runs a hand over his thinning buzz-cut. “The king captured me a couple years after war re-broke out. I was sure I was going to be tortured. Not much love lost between the king and me. Instead he spins me this story about wanting my help, and he shows me something—something every bit as wrong as him.”
General Kline grimaces and looks away. “You were so still.” His voice lowers. “He had you in this capsule, what I later learned was a Sleeper. And you were alive—unconscious, but alive.
“I’ll give the bastard this—he loves you. He’s mad with it. Even now. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, I believe he’s still willing to destroy anything and everything to get what he wants, and what he wants right now is a cure for that cancer of yours.
“He recruited me and the Resistance to work with him. And we have ever since.”
I bring a fist to my mouth. I can’t put my finger on what I’m feeling. Relief, definitely. Knowing that the Resistance eventually opposed the advisors that hijacked the WUN makes me feel less disoriented about my own allegiances. But I also feel something else, something that makes me mourn the general more than I already do.
Montes killed his son, and General Kline still found it within himself to work with the king because he knew it would help the greater good. When it came down to it, he was willing to make the same sacrifices he asked of me.
“The king is not a good man,” the general continues, “but he’s surrounded himself with good men, so there’s that. And he’s trying to do right. The fucker actually consults me for advice from time to time.”
Kline leans forward. “Listen to me carefully, Serenity. The king might win the war, but I don’t see him ending it. There is a distinction. That’s why the war still rages on. All he knows is violence. It’s a good skill for defeating the enemy, but it’s useless once the fighting’s over. And, Serenity, he knows nothing of peace.”
He pauses for a long moment.
“You do. That’s all your dad taught you in the bunker. As your general, I’m giving you one final task.”
My body tenses, my pulse hiking at Kline’s words. I already know whatever he tasks me with, I’ll follow the order.
“If the world you wake up to is the one I fear it will be, then you and I both know your duties aren’t over.”
I already figured this out, and yet coming from the general, the prospect has my stomach clenching.
“You need to help him. Believe me, I know how wrong it is to ask this of you.”
I’m sucking in air fast. My veins thrum as they get battle ready.
I understand him. The general and I might be more similar to one another than anyone else. Even my father. Even Montes.
“That man,” he continues, “will eventually reconquer the world, and he’s primed to ruin it over and over again.
“Serenity—” He levels his gaze on the lens, and I swear even though time and space separate us, he sees me.
“Don’t let him.”
Chapter 15
Serenity
I sit there long after the video ends.
The general sent me a message from beyond the grave. That’s obviously what this is. The final meeting that we never had.
I rub my palms against my eyes, ignoring the wetness that seeps out from under them.
I can’t even say what I’m sad about—that the general’s gone, that I’ve been left behind, or that a burden the size of continents has fallen onto my shoulders.
When I exit the room, Montes waits for me.
It’s almost implausible, that those two worked together.
The king gives away nothing as he takes me in. I’m sure my eyes are still red.
“Why did you show me that?” I ask, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind me.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
There are so many reasons. The general wasn’t kind to the king in his video.
“You’ve watched it?”
Montes steps in close, that dark hair of his swept back from his face. His features look more regal than ever as he stares down at me.
“I have,” the king says.
So he’s heard the general’s unflattering assessment of him, and he’s also heard my final order. I’d be surprised that he showed me the video, except that it benefits Montes. The general essentially tasked me to remain close to the king.
“How long has he been dead?” I ask.
“Sixty, almost seventy years.”
I reel from that information, but of course. The general was already old when I knew him. For him to live three extra decades is extraordinary.
“He cared for you,” Montes says.
“I know that,” I say quietly.
“Does the Resistance still exist?” I ask.
Montes studies me, then slowly shakes his head. “The group splintered into several other organizations about a decade after the general died.”
And, given the king’s timeline, that happened over half a century ago.
“So they no longer exist?”
“They no longer exist,” he affirms.
Time is a spooky thing.
A world without the Resistance … it seems just as implausible as a world without the WUN or the king. They were once a great ally, and then a great enemy, but for them to no longer exist at all?
I’ve never considered the possibility.
Apparently, even deathless things can be killed.
The king leads me back down the hall.