Fourth District Palace
“We move fast and quiet,” said Lizzy, her voice amplified and distorted by the Girardoni armor. Her war room overlooked the Fourth’s central square, its walls decorated with the shields of Ilderia’s knights - a sign of conquest, not now glory. The roar of the crowd outside the west door was audible from where they stood; only glass and thin curtains separated the chamber where Jay and her knights and officers listened from the vast square below. “You don’t fight the Royal Guard, and if they see you, run. But if you see a chance to pick up any high-value targets -” she grinned “- well, if there’s no risk, there’s no risk, is there?”
Mase nodded, her face changing, and walked out the front door.
Jay kept his expression unreadable, made a mental note to call Catherine and warn her the first chance he got. Mase wasn’t the only knight being sent off with special instructions. He raised his head from his computer.
“They’re gathering at the eighth district. I’m sure of it.”
“And the last of Fear’s troops are arriving,” Lizzy said. “Good.” She smiled, and, over her shoulder as she swept out, tossed off - “Time for the speech.”
Franklin Square had been the center of the district under Ilderia; the houses of her knights and judges had lined the streets, signs for every new business or project anyone supported announced them to the world, the milestone she’d erected at the center was covered with her proclamations, printed in every language known to her people, nine of ten translators’ work checked directly by Ilderia to make sure they’d made no serious errors. Half of her trials had been held there, in the open air, broadcast as she worked, with half the county to serve as a jury asked Yea or Nay on Ilderia’s judgements. They still had to scrub off lightning-bolt graffiti, sometimes.
Now the only people gathered in the square to hear their leader’s speech were soldiers. Not professionals, not most of them; new militia companies assembled for the recruitment bonuses, gangsters and henchmen here for the chance to do some looting. The fourth and eleventh counties’ police forces and the county guards in their mund-armor provided stiffening for a largely amateur force, and among them were Lizzy and Fear’s remaining knights each worth a dozen soldiers or more, men and women either bulletproof or wearing velocity redirection shields and wielding lasers or stunners or powers deadlier than either.
Jay was sure they were outnumbered and outgunned. The odds were three to two against them in counts and they’d already lost knights in the opening round, to say nothing of their robot soldiers - every drone in the district more complicated than a fire-and-forget missile had deserted to Steelmind’s side within the last three hours, and nobody wanted to risk firing missiles. Where would they land? Steelmind had all the artillery in the city and all the robots, and in any fair fight they’d be annihilated.
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But they had Lizzy, and she never bothered fighting fair. Nobody with any sense would count any child of the Tyrant’s as out of the running until they were dead and rotted.
Jay frowned as he watched her. She could make her speech without him. He had higher priorities than that, right now.
- - -
“All right, boys,” said Lizzy, bounding onto the balcony, “you all know why we’re here.” Her helmet was retracted the way her father’s had been - the Bloody Blaze feared no bullet. Balanced on one hand was a black crate.
“We’re here to kick ass. We’re here to do what we haven’t had a chance to do for months - kill people, break shit, and steal everything that isn’t nailed down and on fire!”
Laughs, cheers. “My brother’s going down, the old men who are with him are going down -”
She grinned and leaped a floor down to land on the milestone, slamming the crate down by her side. “Now, remember this! I’m not one for speeches like some counts you might have had -” laughs from some; others were silent, which was fine, or frowned, and those she marked for death “- but when I make promises to my men, I keep them. You’re my men, and nobody else’s, and up with me and mine and to hell with the rest of the world! The old men can talk about taxes and wages and duties; I say my men live free, eat free and their only duty is to beat the shit out of my enemies. If you want it, you take it. That’s what being in power means. No worrying about paperwork, no worrying about forms. Want, get, take, have.
“You want continents? The hell would you do with continents? It’s gold and glory you want. Gold you can have, but - you want glory?”
She laughed madly.
“Every day is glory day in my world. And you know that I’m unbeatable, and that means if you’re with me, you’re unbeatable, too. And I’ll tell you why.”
She opened the crate with two fingers.
“Powers aren’t just for the blue-bloods. Powers are for everyone.”
She scooped up a handful of vials, lifted them up to sparkle.
“Serum #24, boys. One day of powers if you can pay the price. Strong as a titan, tough as steel, faster than a Ferrari. Price is a hundred thousand dollars, of course.”
The grin, if possible, grew wider.
“A hundred thousand dollars I’m paying your next of kin, that is - or you, if you survive. Not many people do. If you’re not worthy, it burns you out, eats you up from the inside out. You boys worthy?”
A roar.
“If you can punch like a knight,” she promised, “you’re a knight. Even for a day you’ll be my knight forever. You got families? Hell, they’re knightly enough for me! If not? Buy one! Hundred K! I’ve got three hundred vials if there’s three hundred of you who want to be knights!”
The first one who came forwards was one of the ‘militia’ leaders, and the Bloody Princess greeted him with a handshake and a nod. “Al,” she said. “Good to have you with me.”
He picked one up, spun it in his fingers. Injected himself.
Hurled the empty vial across the room at about a hundred miles an hour, where it shattered against the pale, faded print of one of Ilderia’s old decrees.
“Anyone else?” she yelled. “Anyone else want powers?”