Path of the Fury

She'd gone berserk. She'd forgotten the objective, the plan, the need to survive, even that Megarea would die with her—forgotten everything but the need to kill ... and it had not been temporary. She'd felt it again the instant tick reaction let her go. Bloodlust trembled within her even now, like black fire awaiting only a puff of air to roar to life once more.

It was madness, and it terrified her, for it was infinitely worse than the madness Ta

"No, Little One." Alicia winced, for the soft voice held something she'd never heard from the Fury: sorrow. She gritted her teeth and turned away from it, clutching her self-loathing to her, but Tisiphone refused to be evaded. "It is not you who have done this thing. It is I. I have ... meddled unforgivably. Do not blame yourself for the wrong I have done."

"It's a bit late for that," Alicia grated.

"But it is not your fault. It—"

"Do you really think it matters a good goddamn whose fault it is?!" She clenched her fists as barely leashed madness stirred, and tears streaked her face.

"Alley—"

"Shut up, Megarea! Just shut up!" Alicia hissed. She felt Megarea's hurt and desperate concern, and she shut them out, for Megarea loved her. Megarea would refuse to face the loathsome thing she had become. Megarea would protect her, and she was too dangerous to be protected.

Silence hovered in her mind and her breathing was ragged. She still had enough control to end it. She could turn herself in ... and if Fleet killed her when she tried, perhaps that would be the best solution of all. Yet how long would that control remain? She could feel her old self dying, tiny bits and pieces eaten away by the corrosion at her core, and the horror of her own demolition filled her.

"Little One ... Alicia, you must hear me," Tisiphone said at last. Alicia hunched forward, covering her ears with her hands, digging her nails into her temples, but she couldn't shut out the Fury's voice.

"I am arrogant, Little One. When first we met, I saw your compassion, your belief in "justice," and I feared them. They were too much a part of you, too likely, I thought, to cloud your judgment when the moment came.

"I was wrong. Oh, Alicia—" the pain in the Fury's voice was terrible, for she was a being who had never been meant to feel it "—I was so wrong! And because I was, I built a weapon of your hate. Not against your foes, but against you, to bend you to my will at need, and in so doing I have hurt one i

"It doesn't matter who I hate." Alicia slumped back and opened tear-soaked eyes, and her voice was raw and wounded. "Don't you understand even that? It doesn't matter. All that matters is what I've become!"

"The debt is mine," the Fury's voice had hardened, "and mine the price to pay. I swear to you, Alicia DeVries, that I will not let you become the thing you fear."

"Can—" Words caught in her throat. She swallowed and tried again, and they came out small and frightened. "Can you stop me? Make me better?"

"I do not know," Tisiphone replied unflinchingly. "I swear that I will try, but I am less skilled at healing than hurting, and what I have done to you grows stronger with every hour. Already it is more powerful than I believed possible, perhaps powerful enough to destroy us both, yet I have lived long enough—perhaps too long. I will do what I may, and if I fail," her voice turned gentle, "we will end together, Little One." "No!" Megarea's protest was hot and frightened. "You can't just kill her! I won't let you!"

"Hush, Megarea," Alicia whispered. Her eyes closed again—not in terror this time but in gratitude—yet she felt her sister self's pain and made herself speak gently. "She's right. You know she is; you're part of me. Do you think I'd want to live as that?" She shuddered and shook her head. "But I'm so sorry to do this to you, love. You deserve better, unless ... Do you think—is our link different enough for you to—?"

"I don't know," tears glittered in the AI's soundless voice, "and it doesn't matter, because I won't."

"Please, Megarea. Don't do that to me," Alicia begged. "Promise you'll at least try! I don't ... I don't think I can bear knowing you won't if I ... if I ..."

"Then you're just going to have to try real hard not to. You're not going anywhere without me—not ever."

"But—"

"It is her right, Little One," Tisiphone said quietly. "Do not deny her choice or blame her for it. The fault is no more hers than yours."

Alicia bowed her head. The Fury was right, and if she tried to force the AI, she would only twist the time they still had with pain and guilt.

"All right," she whispered. "All right. We've come this far together; we'll go on together."

Megarea's warm silence enfolded her, answering for her, and fragile stillness hovered on the bridge, filled with a strange, bittersweet sense of acceptance. What she was becoming could not be permitted to live, and it would not. That had to be enough, and, somehow, it was.

It was odd, she thought almost dreamily, but she didn't even blame Tisiphone. She would have died long since if not for her, and the Fury's pain was too genuine. If she had become something else, so had Tisiphone, and the bond which had grown between them no longer held room for resentment or hate.

The stillness stretched out until the Fury broke it at last.

"In truth, Little One, my promise to you may not matter in the end. I have not yet told you what I have learned."

"Learned?" Alicia stirred in her chair.

"Indeed. While Megarea dispatched Procyon's AI, I sought a mind which could tell us more. I found one, and in it I found the truth."

Alicia snapped back to full alertness, driving the residual flicker of madness as deep as she could, and felt Megarea beside her in her mind.

"The Fleet perso

"We already knew that, but why? What can they possibly gain from it?"

"The answer is simple enough," the Fury said grimly, "for he who truly commands them is the one called Subrahmanyan Treadwell."

For just an instant the name completely failed to register, and then Alicia flinched in disbelief. "The sector governor? That—that's crazy!"

"There is no question, Little One. It is he, and his objective is no less than to place a crown upon his own head."

"But ... but how?"

"He has requested massive reinforcements to "crush the pirates." Indeed, he has been promised the tenth part of your Fleet's active units and perhaps a third of its firepower. Once they arrive, Admiral Gomez will be relieved or die—it matters little to him—and replaced by Admiral Brinkman.

"For a time, the pirates will prove even more successful. Their raids will spread across the border into the Macedon Sector, which is but lightly held, until they seem an irresistible scourge. And when the terror has reached its height, when the people of both sectors have come to believe the Empire ca

"But the Emperor won't stand for it!" Alicia protested sickly.

"Treadwell believes he will. That is the reason he seeks such naval strength. Surely the Emperor will realize that a civil war—and it would require nothing less once Treadwell's plan has played itself out—will but invite the Rishathan Sphere to intervene? And remember this: none save Treadwell and his closest adherents will know what actually passed. All will believe he truly dealt, firmly and decisively, with a threat to the people he is sworn to protect. These sectors lie far from the heart of the Empire. Will the Emperor be able to rally sufficient public support for a massive operation against a man who but did what had to be done in so distant a province?"

"Dear God," Alicia whispered. She licked bloodless lips, trying to grasp the truth, but the sheer magnitude of the crime was numbing.

"Megarea, did you get any of this from Procyon's computers?"

"No, Alley." Even the brash AI was subdued and shaken. "I didn't have time for data searches."

"It would not have mattered, Megarea. There was no data for you to find. The details of the plan have never been committed to record—not, I venture to say, unreasonably."

"Yeah." Alicia inhaled deeply. The numbness was passing, and the flame of her madness guttered higher. She ground her heel upon its neck, driving it back down, and shook herself.

"Okay. What do we do with the information?"

"Tell Ferhat?" Megarea suggested hesitantly.

"Maybe. He'd believe us, I think, though it's for damned sure no one else will. I mean, who's going to take the unsupported word of a madwoman who talks to Bronze Age demons over that of a sector governor?"

"I suppose I should resent that, but I fear you are correct."