World On Fire

Chapter Three

Ezca puffed, then froze as Sekert rolled over in her bunk. He couldn't believe that he almost fell for an obvious prank. There was no way that the King would send his personal unit to kill his own subjects. Just to spark a war that would kill millions more. Where was the reason? What was the point? Sure Vasgyhrr was a bit over populated but they could have easily put a number of citizens in cryo sleep until they found a suitable planet; or until a plague wiped out a sizeable number as happened a few centuries ago. But what use was Earth to them? It was already heavily populated and, then again, the question of the fighting.

The King said it was to subdue the Humans. That they were already on their way to spreading throughout the galaxy and would soon be knocking on their home worlds door.

<You're curious now, aren't you?> The Unknown Messenger asked.

<What do you want?> He asked.

<To open your eyes, Ezca. Read this.>

His eyes flared when he saw his name on the screen. It wouldn't be hard for an officer, or Intel Agent, to look up who he was as every screen name was just the individuals service number. But whoever was speaking to him knew who he was. A file popped up in the corner, with the simple name of 'Truth'. Nothing ominous there.

<So you know who I am. But what do I call you?>

<Kyros will do. Read the file, Kantotally. We'll be in touch.>

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the chat window had closed, leaving no trace of the conversation that had perplexed him to the point that his eyes now hurt. And now the mysterious person, or persons, was using the same name as the ancient god of truth. The powerful two-faced being that smiled on one side and frowned on the other. Stoic, he sat and watched over conversations that were invoked in his name, mainly trails, business deals, and promises of love or innocence.

Wishing there was some way he could disconnect his datapad from the net, Ezca toyed with the idea just deleting the file entirely. Of washing his hands of the matter and turning his datapad over to his commanding officer so they could track down the source of the messages and apprehend this Kyros. Of being a good and proper Druidth soldier and citizen.

Who was he fooling? The curiosity would eat away at him if he did not open it now. His finger double tapped the small icon which opened the folder. Inside was nothing more than a series of documents, official looking, that he could not tell if they were real of forgeries. Most likely, a forgery. But, curiosity unsatisfied, he selected the first in line and began reading.

At the top of each page was a list of numbers and letters that told the reader where it came from and for whom it was meant to be read by. The lower the number, the higher the rank. His eyes widened when he saw nothing but Druidth zeros followed by a single one. That meant...

"Chief Secretary of the Army?" He asked himself aloud, yet in a very hushed voice.

The letters beside the recipient showed that it was meant for someone in the Kings Guard, the similarly low service number said it was for the Commander-in-Chief. It was Druidth law, and in the oaths they took when they took their respective offices, that those two men never communicate. The Guard was sworn to protect the King and his family, and those he chose for special protective detail, and the Army was the sword and shield of the Druidth people. Each had their own jurisdictions and objectives. There should not be any reason for them to speak.

Yet here the document was. From the desk from one Chief Secretary to another.

Ezca scrolled down skimming the document, looking for any obvious discrepancies that would give it away as a forgery. When he saw none, his heart rate increasing, he began reading it more carefully. Often, he would go back and re-read an entire section. When he was through, he closed it and opened the next in line.