The Age of Ra

their nature. Does Gavrilenko strike you as the type to disobey an order? Not me. He's a soldier to the marrow.''

''You could try.''

''But don't you get it, Dave? He's not the problem. Set himself has decreed what's to be done with me. Nothing's going to change that. If it isn't Gavrilenko who does the dirty deed, it'll be some other mortal flunky.''

''But why? Why has Set just… abandoned you?''

''Hmmm, the least trustworthy of all the gods, notorious for his tricks and lies — why would he suddenly toss me aside like a used handkerchief? I don't know, Dave. Because he's Set, perhaps? Or perhaps because, as I am, I'm too dangerous to leave be. I'm carrying some of his essence around inside me. I could do all sorts of things with that, things that might throw a spanner in the works, especially now I know how expendable I am to him. He's played me, now he wants me off the game board, simple as that.''

David glanced around. The two soldiers guarding them weren't paying much attention at present. The other Setics seemed preoccupied, Gavrilenko included.

Lowering his voice, he said to Steven, ''We'll make a run for it. Hit those two, grab their god rods, blast our way out of here.''

''Dave.'' Steven's tone was warm, almost tender. ''No. I appreciate the gesture, but look. This — this whole escapade — has come to an end. We both know it. Your idea will only get the both of us killed, and that would be pointless. I'm all right with what's about to happen. I'm not saying that to sound brave. I really am. Maybe if I had longer to think about it, I wouldn't be. But look at it this way. I've had a few more years of life that I otherwise wouldn't have, and they've been fun ones. Exciting. An adventure. And I've had a chance to be reconciled with my big brother — even if it ended up with us beating seven shades of shit out of each other. By the way, sorry about what I did to your bad arm. Try and get that fixed as soon as you can, will you?''

''Steven, don't give in like this. There must be something we can do. Think.''

''Amazing,'' Steven said. ''Less than an hour ago we could've killed each other. Now you don't want me to die.''

''Maybe I just don't want someone else to kill you. It should be my job.''

A brittle laugh. ''Yeah, fraternal prerogative or something. Dave, do you think you're going home after this?''

''England? Haven't thought that far ahead. Why?''

''If you do, tell Mum and Dad everything. Eventually it's going to become known who the Lightbringer was. Someone somewhere is going to figure it out. Some journalist will dig around and get to the bottom of it and name and shame me. So perhaps it would be better if you told our parents first, rather than have them find out about it in a newspaper. But whatever you do, tell them the truth. Tell them why I did everything I did. Maybe Dad will somehow find it in his heart to sympathise.''

''Not the Jack Westwynter I know.''

''True. Then at least maybe Mum will. Oh, and Dave? Zafirah. Tell her…''

David gritted his teeth. Tell her what? That you love her? That you don't love her but wanted her anyway to spite me? What, Steven?

''Tell her how you feel about her,'' Steven said. ''Just come out and say it. If she's still alive, if she's up here somewhere, find her and talk to her. She may not be right for you, but who am I to judge? At least give it a shot with her.''

David was dumbfounded.

Steven turned. ''Colonel? Colonel Gavrilenko? We're done. Let's get this over with, shall we?''

He tugged off his mask. His eyes were wide and shone like glass. His mouth was tight. The scar on his cheek looked, at that moment, like nothing but a scar, like a random pattern of injury, which only through happenstance, and with some imagination, resembled a Typhonic Beast.

He thrust the mask into David's hand and, bareheaded, naked-faced, strode over to the Russian officer.

It was summary. It was swift. Five Setic soldiers lined up with their ba lances. Steven stood against a half-tumbled wall, facing them unflinchingly.

David turned away at the very last second, covering his ears. He looked out across the plain, which was burning. Smoke rose everywhere, from bombed-out farmhouses, from fields that were smouldering down to stubble, from the shells of wrecked vehicles. A brown haze filled the air, dimming the light of the low afternoon sun.

A flash of red flickered on the stones of the ruined city. Some of the Freegyptians who had a view of the execution winced and cried out in dismay. Others were flinty-eyed.

David raised the Lightbringer mask to his nose and inhaled the smell of his brother's hair and sweat.

Briefly, for a handful of seconds, Steven lived on in this world.

38. Detainees

She found him.

Late in the evening, Colonel Gavrilenko had granted the Freegyptians some freedom of movement around the city ruins. The Setics distributed military rations among them and escorted those who needed toilet breaks. A cautious trust had been established between detainers and detainees.

Zafirah approached David as one of the Freegyptian medics was inserting fresh stitches into his arm. David's smile of greeting was a contorted thing, the best he could manage with a large curved needle worming its way through his flesh, unmitigated by any form of anaesthetic.

''You made it,'' he said. ''You survived. I was about to start looking for you.''

''I've saved you the trouble,'' she said. There were cordite burns on her face and a patch of scorching on her neck — a near-miss from a ba bolt, it was safe to assume — but otherwise she was unharmed. ''Is it true? We're all going home?''

''If Colonel Gavrilenko is to be believed, and I think he is. He says he's ordered up some troop trucks from the rear. Should have them here by the morning.''

''Unexpected kindness from our enemy.''

''I'm not sure the Setics are our enemy,'' David said. ''Frankly, I stopped being clear on the whole business of friend and foe a while back.''

''I've heard rumours. Horusites fighting in league with the Setics. The Hegemony offering to help out the Nephthysians.''

''It's an unholy mess. Or maybe a holy one, I don't know. All I know is, even though we helped trigger this turnabout, no one seems to be holding us to account for it. We were the catalyst, we did our bit, and already we've almost been forgotten.''

''The Lightbringer…'' Zafirah began.

David set his jaw. ''What about him?''

''I didn't see… how they killed him. I was over on the far side of the mountaintop. They had us huddled together there. It was a firing squad, yes?''

''Yes.''

''And he… People are saying he tricked us. Used us. All his talk of ridding the world of the gods — it was all lies.''

David picked his words with care. ''It seems that way. He was playing a different game.''

''But we believed him!'' she exclaimed. ''We believed in him.''

''I know. And many of us died for him.''

''How can someone do that? How?''

''Maybe… maybe because he had no choice. He couldn't see what else to do.''

''No, that is too generous. Too forgiving. He had a choice. He chose to deceive. And now he's paid for it, and good riddance.'' She spat on the ground. ''I only wish I'd been there, at the execution. I wish they'd let me have a ba lance. I wouldn't have been merciful and aimed for his head, either.''