The Justiceers - Part One: Chapter Ten
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Justiceers
By Daphne Garrido
Part One - Darkest Nights
1.10
Arthur was in the Captain’s cabin of The Nebberath, reading his copy of a letter Miriam had written shortly after they’d first met.
She’d sent him so many, along with lists of songs, but this was unique. When he’d first received it Arthur hadn’t known what to say or think. He’d just sent her a picture back, like, ‘what?’
She’d seemed awfully awkward about it too, as if she realized after sending it how entirely unhinged it was, at least from what their relationship was supposed to be, and perhaps, wanted to pretend that never happened.
Its words spoke of how Arthur made the entire universe make sense to Miriam, by him just being who he was. With such context added from all the time they’d now spent together, the letter had grown to touch him dearly.
He saw the bravery in it now. For Miriam to have known and trusted what her heart was saying that completely, to bear her soul and share it with so much trust.
Arthur got rid of that first copy, and it had made him feel pretty bad once he’d come understand she wasn’t only a crazy witch. Though, Arthur would find that when he eventually came back to see Miriam, she’d already had another one waiting for him.
Her penmanship hadn’t improved much, but this new copy had been the unfiltered version. That first one had pulled the punch a bit, shaving down those most extreme edges, trying to make it all sound less absurd. It had been easy for Miriam to recreate though, because it was something she’d first written in her own journal under a prompt that read, ‘Things I want to say to Arthur but haven’t.’
Miriam later told him the only reason she originally shared it, despite the way their relationship was far from romantic, and how explicitly he’d demanded she not to have feelings for him that way, was because she’d recognized it as the nicest thing she would think, say, or write about anyone her entire life, and that she’d meant it.
Arthur would find himself holding onto this and re-reading it for the rest of his time in The Periphery. The growth of its meaning to him would never stop. He’d decided there to read it one more time.
Arthur,
The universe is a dark place. The present and history of The Periphery and what we know of the cosmos is violent, destructive, and scary. It’s hard to comprehend how any of this can ultimately make sense or be justified. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a lot of my life. But if all this craziness, all of this extreme duality between darkness and light, all the pain and love and everything in-between is what it took to create the conditions for you to exist. Then I think I get it. I think I understand why we’re doing this. Because in all you are, in all your strengths, in all of what you might consider your flaws, in every side of you I have had the benefit of seeing. You are the most intricately beautiful creature I’ve ever known. I see intelligent design in the nuance and layers of my heart’s passion for you as a person. I see the divine in how completely your entire self appeals to my heart. And I’m grateful to know you. Thanks for being you.
With Love,
Miriam
Oliath was a crypt, abandoned, anyone left here now had given up. Arthur wasn’t here to fight for them. He’d learned through much trial and error to not waste his energy on people determined to lose.
He was here for Miriam, and his unfinished business at Oliath General Authority Headquarters.
Miriam had sights of everything befalling Grammaton, some workings of this ongoing catastrophe prewritten by fate. In that forest she’d asked him to let her body do whatever it chose on those machines, expressing hope it would stabilize, telling of a stronger foothold in which she might work with Arthur if it did.
Regardless, his Scribe would not be leaving him. Miriam would be with Arthur always, inside and above, as long as he chose. Her pouring forth would be his own, both Scribe and Judge to now live within himself.
This was not at all what he wanted. He would’ve argued a case if he’d been speaking with his own Miriam. That had been a goddess. So complete in soul, profoundly radiant and wise, Arthur wouldn’t dare attempt command such a being in a way they did not choose.
Since he’d awoken from that dream, there’d not been a moment where Arthur hadn’t felt Miriam in his heart.
The streets which he and The Beast now prowled were mottled and pock-marked with debris of chaos and remains of both Cryptoids and Oliath’s citizens alike. Arthur had been making calls to Olivia. There was still hope in both he and Miriam’s spirit that she might find some redemption, having seen so clearly the light within her.
He’d landed back at the spaceport, unsurprised to find the M9 long-gone. Yet, he and The Beast remained an industrious duo. They’d found a Lithos Miranos in a private hangar. Jane actually found it — Arthur finally deciding to name the intelligence stowed within The Beast.
It had been Miriam’s middle name.
He’d found OGA Headquarters locked up tightly. Arthur just blew out the front doors. He wasn’t here to fuck around. His gut told him he’d never be again.
Right then was the first time words had come through clearly while awake, such streams of energy flowing into his crown, hearing what was no doubt Miriam from beyond.
‘Nice,’ she’d exclaimed.
Arthur could now center on his heart at anytime and feel her love, but he also found himself sensing her spirit’s reactions to what he was doing. There would be surges of joy so coded with laughter, warnings of alert, they’d call him to focus or take care of himself.
Miriam’s spirit would be a guiding force for Arthur. No matter how torn apart he was about her demise, or how uncomfortable these sensations still made him feel, knowing she would be there was the only thing holding this man together.
The lobby was torn to pieces. Arthur had read of revolt against the Authority, a siege by Oliath’s citizens upon this building, and so this sight was no surprise. That very same door to the back hallway was closed and locked.
‘Do it!’ he’d heard come through his new channel.
His gut approved this suggestion and he’d wrought far more destruction than necessary in breaking through such a measly structure.
In fact, The Beast never needed to do anything with that vigor Arthur would summon. Its effector field had the ability to displace matter and transport it short distances with literally no need for havoc. It was only Arthur’s pursuit of joy which would compel him to smash things to such pieces with force.
Miriam had always approved.
Stairwells were a challenge for The Beast, but not something impossible to navigate. Arthur had exerted great effort perfecting this art over the cycles, tinkering with the mechanisms and control capabilities of its gravity generators to make it feasible.
Still, the staircases in this tower were a particularly rough fit, its corners so tight, The Beast was going to need a lot of bodywork after this.
Jane told him they were getting close.
She’d been guiding Arthur to location after location within the lowest structures of the tower. He was planting gravity bombs, his gut having spoken a verdict from all the data he’d seen.
Arthur determined there was clearly more than one faction or force, beyond that of Grammaton itself, contending for control of this planet in wake of its transformation. It was also clear the inner workings of OGA had been steered and manipulated by that AI which was still lying buried beneath rubble at the High Court, along with the citizenry.
His gut also confirmed something suspected; this intelligence’s machinations were still at work. Bringing down the complex around it changed little. Clearly there remained some fundamental connection between it, this building, and the agents of OGA. Despite whatever fissure they’d forced by demolishing that complex, how they’d clearly lost some sense of direction from it all, those wheels kept turning; the city kept burning.
The one thing he’d no inclination of, was who it had been reigning artillery, so tightly focused upon this building, on the night Miriam was shot. Whoever they were, he thought he’d want to meet them, because they’d certainly been on to something.
Arthur’s Judge had spoken — Oliath General Authority would be no more.
Arthur left in a hurry, not understanding the divinity of his rushing need, assuming it some fear from the bombs so ready to blow.
Only moments later he’d consider it an act of grace. As he’d arrived streetside there’d been a most violent flash a few city squares down which claimed his attention, its shock rolling through moments after, rattling the cities bones.
He’d felt a spark of insight from his girl, so clearly.
“There lie answers,” is what she’d spoken. Arthur felt into Miriam’s heart-light as he tore off in The Beast, not wasting a second.
Well before he’d arrived at the explosions source, he saw what awaited him there. A warehouse had its doors imploded by an armored OGA transport. It was parked out front and surrounded by agents. The thing was like a tank.
Existence of such weapons of war was criminal in itself throughout The Periphery. Even those foulest cannons they’d used to strike down his Miriam were not permitted in this society, let alone to be used against its own citizens. Whoever, or whatever, was behind this all bore more ownership of guilt than Arthur would know how to sentence for.
No punishment would be sufficient.
These people had failed their planet, and after reflection with his gut, he was begging to feel quite glad it was fighting back.
Arthur failed to exercise his non-lethal tactics against these agents of OGA. Instead, vying for most efficient solutions. What they’d done to Miriam had not been far from his mind as he’d laid every last one of them to waste.
In the aftermath, having sent a trio of drones into the warehouse in hope of uncovering what they’d been after, Arthur was struck by a most saddening realization. That shimmering in his heart had dimmed significantly.
He’d pulled up his AR interface to see what was happening in the medical bay of The Nebberath.
Miriam’s heart-rate had finally dropped, only too far. It didn’t look good, it didn’t feel good. He’d tried to hear his gut but it was in too much pain to speak clearly. Arthur killed his feed, unable to watch what he felt coming.
There was no way he could go on like this, without her. So absorbed in his aching heart, Arthur hadn’t noticed until they had him completely surrounded. Speedships — a fleet of them — landed four to a side in each direction, agents filing from each, armed with those most horrible plasma cannons.
Arthur knew he would make it his purpose, if he’d made it out of this, to destroy every one of those weapons in existence. He wanted to end the tools which had taken his Miriam from him. Their legacy would not survive his own.
Octavia had emerged along with the rest, her face painted with projected resentment, a self-hatred manifesting outward. There was no one he’d want more dead than her, but this was too much.
There were too many agents, he’d no chance. To take her here would end him. Even with all its gifts The Beast wouldn’t overcome these odds. So Arthur turned her off, and she’d set down gently in the street. His heart had gone entirely quiet, receiving none of his love’s showerings. Arthur didn’t ask his gut why.
He felt entirely alone, and raising his hands into the air, Arthur admitted it.
“You got me.”
The depths of these agents were to surprise even Arthur, his gut telling a simple story; they were not going to accept his surrender this time.
Arthur decided then and there to go out fighting. His Miriam was gone. He’d found peace in the fact he would be joining her. That very moment before he’d made his move there was a crushing impact on the street beside The Beast. Arthur looked over just in time to see the energy shield unfold and project its globe of protection around him.
The agents had unloaded their weapons as it sealed him inside, plasma rounds pelting the barrier around him. There was a scream from the sky. Rains of artillery fire beginning to fall upon Oliath, shell after shell exploding around him.
Some voice in Arthur had spoken — not of his gut or Miriam’s insight, from somewhere else — whoever fired these rounds would be that same mysterious force he’d wished to meet. They were saving him now, whoever they were, though he didn’t really want it.
Arthur was ready to be with Miriam.
Octavia was immolated in a raging ball of flame along with her nearest comrades, Arthur saw it all It hadn’t been enough.
In what seemed like no time the salvo had ended, falling particles of wrought mayhem left showering about. The shield remained, protecting Arthur from smoke and ash. It was here this savior’s voice came through his comm-piece.
“Looks like I got back just in time,” Miriam said.
Arthur may have begun to weep a little bit. She was crying too. He could hear her over the open microphone from The Nebberath’s communications room.
It took him a very long time, debris still raining around, smoke pluming throughout the street, but Arthur was finally able to speak.
“I thought they’d asked you to stay?” he’d eked through his cries. The question itself had released more sorrow from within Arthur Katrinus than he’d ever known possible, just to speak with her again was the greatest blessing.
“Yeah, well…”
Miriam’s voice sounded both softer and stronger than ever, a newfound power carried in its tones, yet somehow only more of her own.
“I told them to shut up. And we’ll do it the hard way.”
