Free Judgment by Sean Platt and Johnny B. Truant Page A

 
    “You can’t let your personal baggage get in the way of—”
    “Then you take it, Charlie! You and Peers. Take the key and march right into Ember Flats and complete my father’s exalted mission. Peers showed me some of his satellite imagery. If I had to guess, he’s like Nathan — one of the privileged few the Astrals granted access and control so they could keep order. Either way, he’s got some pretty pictures. And not just satellite, or shots from above. It’s like someone stood right in front of the goddamned mega-platform they built for the Ark and took souvenir photos then emailed them over to Peers.”  
    “He says it’s Astral technology, and that he’s hijacked it.”
    Cameron shook his head. Charlie never seemed to accept nuance, or get a subtle point.  
    “It’s right there in the Ember Flats town square,” Cameron said, suddenly tired. “I can even see the impression, where the key must fit into its front. I don’t think anyone would stop you if you walked right up to the thing and opened it up. It’s like they’re waiting for it to happen.”  
    “That’s exactly my point, Cameron. They’re waiting for you to go in and do what needs to be done.”  
    Cameron sighed. He’d been hearing this same argument for five long years. Charlie had barely wavered, and neither had Kindred — Charlie’s unlikely ally. Charlie wanted to insert the key and open the Ark because it’s what Benjamin’s research seemed to suggest. Kindred wanted the same thing because he sensed something in the Astral collective that suggested breath was being held on both sides, and would be until the deed was done. Delaying, Kindred said, was like a kid locking himself in his room because he was in trouble, hoping in vain that the problem might have disappeared when he finally came out.  
    But the situation was frustratingly rigid. No matter how many times Cameron suggested the group split so that each contingent could do what they felt must, Charlie and Kindred refused. They wouldn’t take the key to the Ark. They’d stick around and keep insisting that Cameron do it.  
    “Fuck that, Charlie.”  
    “You should talk to Peers about this.”
    “Well, fuck Peers, too.”  
    “He’s been attacking the same puzzles as we were. Only he’s been able to incorporate new information and keep working these past years instead of merely running.” Charlie looked quickly at Cameron, eyes behind thick glasses and clearly attempting to take the implied reproach from his words. “Because he’s English, he’s got a slightly different perspective. You may want to hear it.”  
    “Stonehenge, I suppose.”  
    “Arthurian legend,” Charlie replied.  
    Cameron barked a small laugh. “Well, that makes sense. Camelot . You really are becoming the new Benjamin Bannister. I suppose an alien sat around the Round Table?”
    “You know how myths are. Over time, they become more symbolic than literally true. Some event happened, and the people of the time built a moralistic story around it. Myths aren’t history; they’re closer to parables. In this case, it’s the myth of the sword in the stone.”
    Cameron laughed again.  
    “How long has it been since we’ve been in danger from Astrals seeking the key, Cameron?”  
    Cameron pretended to look at an invisible watch. “Hours?”  
    “They pinned us down but didn’t attack. You and Jeanine were separated from the rest of us and they chased both groups, but did they ever truly pursue us?”  
    Cameron wanted to give an obvious yes, possibly with an insulting eye roll. But he paused a second too long, and Charlie’s words began to tumble through his head. They’d been in danger plenty, but not from the Astrals. The only verifiable danger came from the Mullah — the radical branch of Templars who had different views on how history was supposed to unfold. The Astrals always showed, swarmed, and flashed their teeth, but they hadn’t lost anyone since Nathan