Anthem's Fall

Chapter Seventy Two

Yet even in the midst of his total confusion, and the pins and needles in his forearms, Vengelis's face remained a portrait of cool. His calm countenance veiled even the slightest indication of his pain or rising bewilderment. Vengelis watched as the stranger's eyes fixated momentarily on the Blood Ring before returning to meet his gaze.

Vengelis at last broke the silence, his voice carrying over the shimmering shards of glass that fell seemingly from the heavens.

"Who are you?"

"Ryan Craig," the enigma replied.

Vengelis looked doubtfully to his Imperial First Class armor and shook his head slowly.

"No, you aren't. What's your name?"

There was a long silence between them, interspersed only by Darien's guttural moaning from the pavement.

"My name is Ryan Craig," the stranger said. "Though there was a time when I was called Gravitas Nerol."

"Gravitas Nerol?" Vengelis repeated, glaring at him disdainfully. "What?"

"You might know of my father, Pral N—"

"Of course, I know Pral Nerol," Vengelis said. "But you're lying. Pral Nerol's son is dead."

"Then you must believe in ghosts to be speaking to me."

This statement left Vengelis speechless for a moment, but he then shook his head in stern disbelief. "Pral Nerol's son died in space during the Orion campaign. I remember reading the report. It was the transport accident; he died with Bronson Vikkor."

"And yet here I am."

"Here you are . . . and quite riled up it would seem." Vengelis frowned as he regarded Gravitas Nerol, coming to the conclusion at once from the radiating pain in his forearms that this stranger must be telling the truth. "I take it you're the one who traveled here on the Traverser I?"

Vengelis saw a flicker of confusion pass across Gravitas Nerol's face at the mention of the ship, but he merely nodded. "Yes."

"Why? What the hell have you been doing here?" Vengelis looked about the glass-strewn intersection and frightened faces hiding underneath anything and everything against the killing rain of glass. "You're the son of Royalty for god's sake."

"I have been living. Your father banished me from Anthem upon my return from Orion."

"What are you talking about? Upon what return from Orion?"

"When the transport arrived on Anthem, Emperor Faris banished me for—"

"You're lying," Vengelis interjected, frustration and contempt growing in his voice. "I have never heard of my father banishing anyone—let alone the son of a Royal family."

Gravitas shrugged. "Believe what you will. Your father exiled me for killing Bronson Vikkor. I find it strange that your general, Hoff, knew of this, and you do not."

Vengelis flexed his wrists forcefully to dissipate the throbbing in his forearms. He then rolled his eyes impatiently and, unexpected even to himself, reached out to shake Gravitas Nerol's hand.

"I don't have time for this. I am the emperor now, and I pardon you of whatever petty war crimes you committed in the past. There are more important matters at hand. You're the son of Royalty, and our race needs a pure bloodline such as yours during this desperate hour."