Page 51 of Echos and Empires
Attacking the ship had been deplorable. Bash understood the greater good, but if he’d been Victor, he’d have attacked the government and run to this island considering Victor appeared to own it.
Bash stood along the wall as Chris took his seat at the long table, exchanging polite nods and murmured greetings with Anya and Ben, the only other council members already there. To an outside observer, it would have seemed like a gathering of old friends, all warm smiles and genial small talk. But Bash knew better. Behind each carefully crafted facade, gears were turning, alliances shifting and schemes unfolding.
Slowly, the other five, including Victor, came and took their seats. Bash watched as Chris’s body tensed as Victor sat beside, a sickening smile on his lips.
“I heard the good news,” Victor spoke loudly enough that all would hear him. “My congratulations to your family. Twins have never been recorded since the bombs. It will be a celebration that puts all others to shame when they enter this world.”
Rage surged through Bash like a storm, a tempest threatening to break free. His muscles tensed, and he clenched his jaw so tightly that he had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent an outburst. The thought of Emma’s kidnapping churned in his mind, a dark cloud of anger mingling with the chilling knowledge of what babies signified to Victor. The weight of it pressed down on him, each detail a sharp reminder of the danger and the stakes involved.
“Thank you,” Chris seemed to hiss, drawing Bash from his anger at the way Victor threatened his children. “We’re morethrilled than someone without a family could ever understand.” The barbed shot landed and Victor’s smile slipped for a moment.
As the meeting commenced, Bash kept his expression neutral, his posture relaxed. But his mind was in overdrive, dissecting each word and gesture, filing away every tidbit of information. There was Zach, the former general, his brow furrowed as Victor expounded on new security protocols. Diana, the tech mogul, her lips pressed into a thin line when the topic turned to resource allocation. And Hanna, the doctor, her fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the glossy tabletop as Victor waxed poetic about the importance of “population management.”
Bash made mental notes of each reaction, mapping the fault lines in Victor’s seemingly impenetrable power structure. He knew he would need allies if he had any hope of toppling the tyrant’s regime, but he also knew that one misstep could bring it all crashing down on his head.
Trust was a luxury he couldn’t afford, not when Emma’s life hung in the balance. Every interaction had to be carefully calculated, every word measured and weighed. Even here, surrounded by the island’s elite, he felt the constant prickle of eyes on his back, watching, assessing, looking for any sign of disloyalty.
As the meeting paused for a brief recess, Bash made his move. He drifted casually towards the refreshment table, falling into step beside the general as he reached for a glass of water. “Quite the speech,” he remarked, keeping his voice low. “One might almost believe he has our best interests at heart. Seems like those vitamins are doing their job if my love has twins.”
The general cut him a sharp look, but something flickered in his eyes—a glimmer of understanding, perhaps even a hint of agreement. Bash pressed on, choosing his words with care. “Ifind a walk along the north cliffs quite refreshing toward the end of day very refreshing. Clears the head.”
He let the comment hang, heavy with implication, before moving away. Later, as the council members filed out to return to their duties, Bash brushed past the small mother with her three kids in tow, murmuring, “The old lighthouse along the cliffs is especially lovely at sunset. Pity so few appreciate the view.”
To anyone else, the remarks would have seemed idle chatter, meaningless pleasantries. But he had to believe those who were upset would understand they were not as random as they seemed. They were invitations, a subtle code that promised something more than polite conversation.
When they were alone, Bash moved closer to Chris.
“Do you think I made wise choices?”
“I think you made the same damn ones I would’ve made, but we really could’ve used Will.”
He was walking a razor’s edge now, balanced between hope and disaster. Each meeting, each whispered conversation, brought with it the risk of exposure, of having his nascent rebellion snuffed out before it could even draw breath.
But he had no choice. He thought of Emma, of the tiny life growing inside her, and his resolve hardened into something unbreakable. He would play the game as long as he had to, wear whatever mask was required. And when the time came, when he had marshaled his forces and laid his plans, he would tear Victor’s empire down brick by blood-stained brick.
No matter the cost.
Hopefully at least some of them would show up.
There wasnothing special about the area of beach Chris chose. It was an area unlike any other, albeit a little farther from the community to avoid eyes. The lighthouse had never worked according to Maria, but it made a wonderful beacon. But still, people came and went to the beach by the old lighthouse all the time. There was nothing to draw attention or suspicion. Bash kept back, making certain he was ready to defend Chris if needed. The weight of the moment pressed down on him as if he were the one who had to go and prove to these virtual strangers that their lives were in danger. The air was heavy with expectation, with the unspoken knowledge that the choices made could reshape the fate of the entire island.
There were only eight people there aside from his unit. And Emma was not one of them. Should they have read the situation incorrectly, Chris wanted her far from harm’s way if things turned violent. One less thing for them to worry about. Bash agreed instantly.
He looked out at the eight the team had essentially hand picked to come to this very first attempt at saving their world.They were a mismatched group to say the least. Three women and five men. Five men who hadn’t fallen prey to whatever mind control shit was in the vitamins. He only recognized the general and the woman from the meeting, the others being recruited by someone else. The former general, with a snarl on his lips, stood farthest away.
Let’s just hope he’s not here to spy.
But in each face, Bash saw the same thing. A fierce, desperate determination, tempered by the ever-present specter of fear. They might not know what he wanted, but it was clear they were concerned by what was here.
He knew that fear intimately. It had been his constant companion these past weeks, a cold knot in his gut that tightened with every passing day. But as he looked out at the assembled faces, he felt something else stirring beneath the dread - a flicker of hope, fragile but stubborn. Bash had to assume Chris felt it, too.
“I know you’re all risking everything by being here,” Chris began, his voice steady despite the nerves jangling under his skin. “And I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise. What we’re doing...if we’re caught, the consequences will be severe.”
He paused, likely letting the weight of those words sink in, possibly thinking about the fight he’d had with Alex earlier in the day, so similar to the one from last night with Bash. They’d fought over the goal of the meeting today, about whether they would come out and speak their peace or not, but at the end of the day, Chris was the leader and Alex fell in line.
Bash refocused on the group before him, taking careful note of Chris’s resolute expression . “You’ve been asked here because someone in my family felt something when we spoke to you.”
And if we’re wrong, we have Emma’s serum to wipe your memories,Bash thought with a smirk.
