Part 39 (1/2)
”I'll have you locked up for disobeying my orders.” Booth had come accompanied by eight members of his personal guard. ”I am the High Seat. I outrank you.”
”You only outrank me if I choose to stay here,” Simon promised. ”I don't. And I guarantee that locking me up isn't going to be easy.”
”It'll be done.”
Taking a breath, Simon focused totally on Booth. ”If you want to give orders, then give ones I can respect. Give me orders to defend those poor people starving and freezing to death out there in the rotting corpse that this city has become. Give me orders to get those people out of here. Give me orders to feed them and clothe them and protect them until I can get them out of here.” He let out his breath. ”Those are the orders you and the other High Seatsshould be giving. Not telling us to hide in shadows and bring back whatever you send us out there for while they die scared and alone, hungry and in pain every day.”
For a moment the barracks were silent. Simon grew self-conscious. Naked and out in the open like that, his words sounded hollow. That was why he hadn't talked to anyone about what he was going to do.
”The missions we a.s.sign are important,” Booth argued. ”Recovering the artifacts we send you out for is crucial to our chances of beating the demons. The things we've known about but have never been able to act on, the secrets we've learned and kept over the years, all of those things can tilt the balance against the demons. We know what we're doing.”
”Fine, but if you manage to save the world and there's no one to live in it, what have you accomplished?”
”We're here,” Booth said. ”The Templar will live in it.” ”We're not the only people here.”
”We-”
”Shut up!” Simon exploded, taking a step toward Booth. The man closed his mouth at once and stepped back. ”For all my life, I trained to be a Templar, as did my father before me and his father before him. I trained to fight the demons, and to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. And the ones who denied the existence of demons.” Booth scowled.
”My father raised me up to be a Templarknight,” Simon stated. ”Not an armored errand boy. He taught me to be chivalrous and generous, to be modest and intelligent. And to always know that I was supposed to protect those that couldn't protect themselves.” He took a breath. ”That's what I learned to believe in, and that's what I wanted to grow up to be like.”
The silence in the room was deafening. ”I walked away from this life-”
”Just like you're trying to walk away again,” Booth sneered.
”No!” Simon shouted. ”This time it's different. The last time, I left because I didn't see the need for me to give up my life, for me to turn away from the things I wanted to see and do, just to sit around and do nothing with the training I'd been given. I lost faith. But now-nowthe demons arehere. They've come to our world and they mean to make it over as they see fit. They killed people-thousandsof innocent men, women, and children-with impunity. I intend to use the training my father invested in me and save as many of those people out there that I can. Because-to me-that's what a Templar does.”
Someone in the barracks started clapping, slowly at first, then gaining momentum. Other Templar quickly joined in.
Simon felt embarra.s.sed. He couldn't see Booth's face behind the helm, but he felt certain the man was livid with anger. He tried to step around the High Seat again.
Booth drew the Surgecaster from the holster at his side. The pistol was solid and heavy, capable of shooting out b.a.l.l.s of electrical energy.
”You're going to be taken into custody,” Booth said. ”And you won't-”
Simon grabbed Booth's wrist and twisted. The bolt from the Surgecaster whizzed across the room and struck the wall. Simon's HUD had shown him that no one was there, and the rooms were built to be self-contained and resistant to bombing.
The secondary detonation went off as Simon twisted the pistol from Booth's grip. A swirling ball of fire ignited and climbed the wall. Klaxons shrilled, sounding the alarm.
Simon drove his fist into Booth's helm, striking sparks from it as metal grated against metal. Booth tried to get away, but Simon grabbed him by the shoulder and hit him again, using everything he had. Booth flew helplessly across the room, sending Templar diving for cover, and rebounded from the wall.
By the time the High Seat crawled to his knees, Simon was on him. Anger boiled out of Simon, uncontrollable, dark, and terrible. He kicked Booth in the head and sent him back down to the floor. Simon lifted his foot and smashed it onto Booth's helm again and again, shattering the armor but not yet breaking through.
Someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Simon turned to defend himself, then recognized Wertham's armor.
”Stop,” the old Templar said. ”Stop it now. Before you kill him.” Wertham allowed his helm to become transparent enough for Simon to see his features. He maintained his hold on Simon's arms. ”Do you hear me?”
Breathing hard, Simon couldn't answer at first. He nodded, then said, ”Yes.” ”Kill Booth and they'll never let you leave this place,” Wertham said.
Simon knew that. He looked beyond the Templar and saw that Booth's personal guards stood ready, but some of the Templar had interposed themselves between them and Simon.
”Kill him!” Booth yelled. ”Kill him!”
”No,” Wertham said. ”There will not be any killing done here today.”
”If you support him, I'll have you locked up in the same detainment center with him,” Booth threatened. ”Try to stop Simon from leaving,” Wertham replied in a calm voice, ”and you'll have to put more than just me in that detainment center.”
Booth swayed, cursing loudly.
”The Templar have never recognized masters,” Wertham said. ”Only leaders. Each Templar chooses his own way. You know that, High Seat, and even under these times that must be upheld.”
Simon stood, not knowing what to do. He hadn't intended to s...o...b..ll this into a big problem.I should have just left. He could have simply stepped out into one of the tube tunnels and never come back.
But he knew he hadn't wanted to go that easily. There was something in him that hadn't relished the idea of walking away without telling Booth what he thought of the way he was running things.
”We're not supposed to be guerrilla fighters,” Simon said. ”We're supposed to be champions. Warriors that fight the demons and preserve life.All life. Not just our own. By hiding in the shadows and picking and choosing your preciousmissions, you're just as guilty of walking away from everything the Templar stand for as when I left.” He paused. ”I'm not going to dishonor my father's memory. I'm going out there and I'm going to do what I can to help those people trapped in this city. You're going to have to kill me to stop me.”
Booth walked over to Simon. The High Seat moved unsteadily and with effort. Wertham slid between the two.
Booth's helm popped open, revealing his bloodied face. One of his eyes was swelling shut. ”Go then. But don't youever try to come back here.” He spat saliva and blood onto Simon's faces.h.i.+eld. Then Booth stepped back and raised his voice. ”Let him go. Let the demons have him.”
Without a word, Simon shouldered his duffel again, turned, and walked away. Fear trickled through the anger that he still felt, breaking some of his conviction, but he remained convinced that he was doing what he had to do.
Booth's private guards and some of the Templar followed Simon all the way to the exit that let out into the tube. They pa.s.sed him through the security doors and he stepped out into the darkness where the monsters lay in wait.
His footsteps sounded hollow in the tube. They also sounded vulnerable.
A moment later, Wertham and three other Templar stepped out into the tube. Each of them had duffels over their shoulders.
Simon stopped and looked back at them. ”What are you doing?”
”Coming with you,” Wertham said. He made his faces.h.i.+eld translucent, revealing his wide grin. ”What you said back there reminds me of why I took pride in being a Templar. Over the years, I've had my own doubts about all the training I went through and the secrets I had. I can't fault you for those. But I'm not going to sit idly by while you go off on your own to try to do what I think we should be doing.” Simon stared at the older man. ”If you come with me, you're probably going to get killed.”
Wertham grinned. ”Maybe you've got some doubts, but I don't think they've made the demon tough enough to take me.” His grin grew wider. ”Or, at least, that demon hasn't caught up with me yet.”
”Booth won't let you back,” Simon said.
”Regular meals and a bed to sleep in are overrated, if you ask me.” Wertham sobered. ”Those people we left back in the museum...I didn't like doing that. Just walking away from them and leaving them there.”
”I know.”
”I suppose we'll be checking in on them? After you've figured out how we're going to get them out of London?”
”I have a plan,” Simon said.
”Well, now's the time to hear it,” one of the other Templar muttered. ”How much do you know about trains?” Simon asked.