Eternity's War (Books 1-3) (Eternity's War Boxsets) Read online

  “Is that what made you become who you are now? You wanted to evolve?” Tahlia asked, merely feigning interest to pass the time. Despite having conversations like this one dozens of times already, it was seemingly impossible to stop Nikolai's incessant rants. Sometimes she'd catch him pacing around, back and forth, addressing an imaginary audience.

  The great man pondered the question. “Partly. I believe that half the transformation occurs because we believe in it and we allow it to happen. The other half is from an external source that has pushed us beyond what we comprehend to be our threshold of human capacity. At least that's what happened in the case of myself. Of course, I could also argue that I undertook another transformation some years later.” His expression became distant as his mind went back into the past. “I'll never forget that day. I'll never forget the rain. And, as pure as it was, I'll never forget how it could not wash away the blood.”

  Tahlia watched his face, trying to wonder what it was that had twisted Nikolai's mind. He'd never told anyone in Black Dawn. Or maybe it was nothing out of the ordinary at all, she thought. Maybe he'd always been this way—obscure and eccentric.

  “Break free, friends. Dare to be yourselves,” he whispered, still watching the locals walk in a synchronised pattern with one another. They took one step after the other in a robotic fashion. He looked back to Tahlia. “And that's why it's so difficult; people don't know who they are. Almost everything they do is because they've been conditioned to do it. From the clothes they wear to the music they listen to, it is instilled in their minds from birth that this is who they are. But is it really? Humans are the most advanced species on this planet, capable of being fully self-aware. But if one can not think or feel for themselves, then they're no different to any other species of mammal.”

  Something suddenly caught Nikolai's attention from his left. He turned his head sharply, spotting a young man in the distance, walking on the other side of the promenade. He had short hair and looked to be in his mid-twenties. He stood out from the other adults nearby in that he wasn't wearing a jacket over his shirt and tie. Tahlia looked and saw the man too.

  Nikolai snapped his head back to the woman in black, shooting her a vicious glance. “Thank you for informing me of his arrival,” he said, irritated she wasn't keeping a watchful vigil.

  Tahlia said nothing. His tirade had sent her into an inattentive stupor.

  “The humans choose death, my friend,” Nikolai continued, finishing off his speech. “Not in the physical sense, but in the sense that has subconsciously placed limitations on themselves. And so they live long, ambiguous lives. They drown in their ambiguity, and then one day cease to exist, having never realised true greatness, and rarely ever having left a lasting legacy. Such a waste.”

  He held his wrist comm over the small computer screen and paid for his morning beverages. The towering man stood up and stretched his arms outwards, having been sitting in the chair for most of the morning.

  “What do you want me to do?” Tahlia asked.

  “Find yourself a nice vantage point. If in the impossibly unlikely event that the boy is stronger than myself and kills me, avenge my death for me. I live life with no regrets, but I would surely lament dying in vain!” he said with a grin.

  Tahlia nodded at the command, although could not understand all of what was instructed. She walked off, obeying what she perceived to be his orders.

  Nikolai gracefully crossed the promenade, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He looked up at the man in the blue shirt high above, who was still watching him attentively. Nikolai smiled at him. The man did not return the smile, but neither did his face contort in anger; he simply watched on with curiosity.

  Nine

  Roman walked into the small restaurant and approached the counter. The young man knew he was dressed less formally than those around him, but still appropriately enough to maintain employment in Athenia's business district.

  “Hi. What can I get you?” the barista asked him with a smile.

  “Just a medium walnut decaf please,” he responded politely. When he saw the order appear on the screen in front of him, he held his comm up and paid for the coffee. Most restaurants and cafes in Shangwu had long ago implemented self-ordering systems, which greatly increased the efficiency of the venue, but also made them more popular and crowded choices for the other commuters. Roman chose this restaurant because the slightly slower service often resulted in it being less busy.

  He waited a moment until the man behind the counter handed him his warm beverage. He usually came here on a daily basis, as it was a relaxing place to take his morning break and prepare himself for the mammoth amount of work left for him in the afternoon. It wasn't his ideal career, but it was a desirable alternative to working in the northern districts, which usually comprised of less stable employment, as well as higher levels of crime.

  He made his way over to a vacant booth and sat comfortably, picking up an idle tablet from the table in front of him and scanning the headlines. Nothing jumped out and grabbed his attention. The headlines were boring, but it usually indicated that all was well and relatively peaceful in the small nation.

  “Freedom,” a booming voice said. “What does it mean to you?”

  Roman looked up to see a tall figure standing over him. He had large black sunglasses that almost covered his entire face. The man had slicked back hair and wore a long, dark trench coat—an unusual choice for a tropical nation. He sat down at the table without invitation.

  “Can I help you?” Roman asked, feeling intimidated by the presence of the odd man. Something about him felt very ominous and eerily unnatural.

  “Freedom,” Nikolai said again, “tell me what it means to you.”

  Roman frowned with confusion. “What?”

  “Answer my question, Roman,” Nikolai said impatiently.

  The young man was taken aback by the statement. “How ... did you know my name? Who are you?”

  “May I join you?” Nikolai asked, despite already sitting at Roman's table.

  “... okay,” Roman slowly replied.

  “Thank you kindly. Now, what does freedom mean to you?”

  “I'm afraid I don't understand the question,” Roman said, still confused by the bizarre conversation taking place.

  “Philosophy, politics, international relations, sociology. You've studied these all at ANU, have you not? So surely you're no stranger to the topic. Do you truly not understand the question? Or did my sudden appearance startle you?”

  “Yes,” Roman conceded. “That one. You startled me. I don't believe we've met.” He tried to maintain a polite demeanour but secretly wished the man would leave him alone. He tried to figure out how the stranger knew his name and what he studied at university.

  “My name is Dr Nicholas Sweeney,” Nikolai said. “And I ask you this question because I wish to propose something to you. It could potentially mean that you join an elite faction whose ideals involve promoting freedom and protection. Conversely, it could mean death for you. Your fate will be decided by how you answer my question.”

  Roman's heart started to race. The man only came across as strange a moment ago, but now the sudden threat of death began to frighten him.

  “Look,” he said, “I'm just here to have a coffee and then go back to work. I'm not looking for trouble.”

  “Then answer my question—freedom; tell me of it. What is it?”

  Roman sighed, but was willing to do what it took to rid himself of the annoying man. “I suppose freedom is people having free will. People have the ability to work where they wish and go where they want.” His heart continued to pound as he tried to gauge the man's reaction. He wondered if he would approve of his opinion and leave him be.

  “I agree ...” Nikolai finally said. Roman breathed an internal sigh of relief. “... to an extent though. Let us dive deeper. How much freedom do people deserve? Do they deserve the freedom to kill one another?”

  “Well, no,” Roman said
. “I don't condone murder.”

  “And nor do I. Unless it's justified, of course.” The man then started laughing to himself manically.

  Roman became more uncomfortable by the second, fearing that he may be attacked.

  “You know,” Nikolai continued, “humans are capable of just about anything. They can promote peace and harmony across all walks of life, or they could destroy everything that has been created with one cataclysmic push of a button, not unlike what's happening back in my home country. So where do we draw the line?

  “Do we give them just enough freedom so that they may live long, full, happy lives? Or do we give them complete control over the universe itself? Do we allow them to hold the fate of civilisation in their hands and merely hope they don't destroy it?”

  “Well, yeah, I'd say so,” Roman said. He looked around the restaurant to see if anyone was watching the pair, but no one seemed to be taking any notice of the bizarre situation. “I suppose true freedom gives someone the power to make all decisions, even if that decision may affect other people. We can't control them.”

  “Can't we now?” Nikolai's tone became serious. “What if someone tried to kill you? Would you let them do it? Or would you stop them?”

  “Of course I would try to stop it,” Roman said, tired of the never-ending debate.

  “What if you could prevent it from happening altogether? What if society was too afraid to even commit murder?”

  “Well, I think a society without murder is a good thing. But I don't think they should live in fear.”

  “It is this fear that creates peace,” Nikolai retorted. “It is this peace that creates freedom.”

  Roman had reached the end of his tether. “Look, can we please stop talking about this? I just want to be left alone.” His voice became loud and flustered.

  Nikolai smirked and laughed to himself. “Very well. I shall leave you be. I just have one final question for you.”

  Roman buried his head in his hands. “What? What is it?”

  The odd man leaned in closer and took a dramatic deep breath. “Utopia. Can this be achieved?”

  Roman thought about the question for a moment, searching his own feelings. It had been the strangest few moments of his young life.

  “No,” he finally said. “I want to say yes, but ... we are corrupt by nature. This kind of peace doesn't exist and never will.”

  Nikolai stared at him briefly before forming a broad smile. He raised his hand and removed the large sunglasses from his face. Underneath were two gaping holes where eyes once sat. He glared at Roman, who gasped at the gruesome sight of the eyeless man.

  “Wrong answer,” Nikolai said, his voice happily sinister.

  Roman started to tremble at the presence of the foreboding figure. He sat frozen, expecting the psychotic man to remove a weapon and publicly execute him.

  But the man did nothing of the sort. Instead, he returned his sunglasses to his face, rose from the booth, and slowly strode out of the cafe with his arms behind his back.

  Roman sat alone, left in a state of shock by the terrifying visitor. His pounding heart became deafening as adrenaline surged through his body.

  “What just happened?” he whispered to himself.

  Ten

  “He's leaving,” Tango said. He sat perched on the roof of the two-storey building opposite, watching Nikolai as he left the restaurant and began to casually saunter down the promenade.

  “Another one for us, I suppose,” Skye said, sighing with relief. He sat next to his comrade and watched Roman through the window of the restaurant. Neither of them wore their masks out of fear they'd be spotted by civilians on the street below.

  “Do you think that's one of them? Without Juliet here, I'm not sure.”

  “It has to be. Why else would Nikolai interrogate him?”

  Tango stared in Roman's direction, who still sat frozen in his booth inside. “I thought he'd be one of the Tianzu, but he looks innocent enough. Still, are we sure we want to recruit him?”

  Skye shot him a confused glance. “Of course we're sure. What's the alternative?”

  Tango didn't answer the question. They both knew what Nikolai would want to do to the boy. It was merely a matter of when.

  “Where's the other one that Juliet mentioned?” Tango asked curiously. “She said there were two in Shangwu.”

  “They're still there. I can sense them,” Juliet said, her voice sounding through their headsets. Their comms were synchronised with one another in order for them to communicate freely. She remained back on her balcony in the warehouse, still monitoring the city for them.

  “They could be anywhere,” Skye said, knowing that Juliet's ability to track other elites was highly inaccurate, and especially from such a long distance away. “We shouldn't waste time. If it's one of the Tianzu, we need to leave. Let's just grab the boy and head home.”

  “Any sign of Tahlia?” Sierra's voice asked.

  Tango let out an obvious groan. “No.”

  Skye stared at Nikolai, who continued walking at a leisurely pace, a pleased expression on his face. “What are you up to, Nikolai?”

  “I wonder where he's going,” Ren said. She too was back inside the warehouse, watching a live feed of the street on her set of monitors via the government's surveillance system.

  Nikolai stopped walking. He turned his head and looked straight at the White Shadow duo from across the street. He offered Skye a respectful smile, as if to hold him in high regard.

  The gesture was not returned as they watched on, but Nikolai wasn't phased by the scowl from his former friend. He resumed walking along with his beaming smile, weaving between the many businessmen and women on the bustling street.

  “You'll have to beat me to him,” Nikolai muttered to himself. He arrived at the end of the car-free zone and entered the rear door of a black limousine that was parked nearby.

  Tango cocked his head to one side. “I didn't know he owned a limousine.”

  “He doesn't,” Ren said. “Those are government plates.”

  Tango looked into the distance, but couldn't quite see what Ren saw, despite his evolved vision. “Why would he steal a government vehicle? Is it so he catches their attention? Is this his lazy way of trying to find Archie?”

  Inside the limousine, Nikolai sat opposite the pale Night, who looked as though he hadn't slept in an eternity.

  Nikolai frowned, his body tensing. “It smells absolutely revolting in here!”

  “Alone, I see,” the ghostly man spoke, ignoring the observation.

  “The boy was far too much of a conscientious objector,” Nikolai said, removing his sunglasses. “I assume that the quiet ones often become the most dangerous, as in the case of yourself. Kill him for me.”

  No more words were said. The strange Night awkwardly clambered out of the vehicle with a cane in hand and casually limped back down the street toward the restaurant. Once again, his peculiar attire caught the attention of numerous people.

  “Skye, look,” Ren gasped.

  Skye saw it at once and groaned. “He's wasting less and less time, isn't he?”

  “What is it?” Echo asked, also listening in on the conversation.

  “Night's coming for the boy,” Tango explained.

  Skye bit his lip. “This is bad. I didn't think Nikolai would order the boy's death straight away.”

  “He knows we're here. Maybe he's just doing it to toy with us.”

  “You're going to have to be very careful, Skye,” Ren warned.

  “I don't have time to be careful. Night's going to kill the boy.”

  “Skye, you can't risk attacking him in public. You'll be arrested in minutes.”

  “What else can I do?” he asked, a little bewildered. He watched as Night took one shambolic step after the other, slowly edging closer to the restaurant. “I can't let him die.”

  “Of course not, but our priority is the president. You can't let yourself be seen attacking Night. I don't want a lockdown.�
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  Skye gritted his teeth at the impossible situation. The last thing he wanted to do was cause any sort of panic or draw attention to himself. Finding the president had so far proven to be an impossible task, and would be further complicated with a military closure of Shangwu. Archie was scheduled to be at East Tower later that night, which might be their final chance to stop him before it's too late.

  But Skye also couldn't risk allowing his relentless foe to slaughter the young man inside the restaurant.

  His mind was made up. In one swift movement he leapt from the roof, across the promenade and landed gently in front of the doorway to the restaurant, shocking and surprising the bystanders around him. Night saw the display and kept walking forward.

  “Good morning, Skye,” he called. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

  Skye's handle floated outward from his holster and hovered in the air in front of him. The blade shot outward, facing Night's direction. A handful of civilians nearby screamed when they saw the deadly weapon. The Athenian commuters quickly dispersed away from the danger.

  “Skye! What are you doing!” Ren's voice shrieked. She could hardly believe what she was watching on the monitors in front of her.

  Night walked right up to Skye and stopped only inches away from the tip of the blade, which was pointed right at his face. “Not the best idea,” he said, glancing upwards at the surveillance cameras strategically scattered along the promenade.

  “Get out of here,” Skye warned him, all too aware that what he was doing could potentially jeopardise everything they'd worked so hard for.

  “No need to be rude,” the strange man smiled. “You could have asked politely.”

  “Now!” Skye roared.

  Night stepped forward and slowly began pressing his face against the sword's tip. He had no reaction as the metal tore into his cheek. The screaming from the terrified locals intensified as they witnessed the gruesome display.