Before the Shattered Gates of Heaven Part 3: Eon (Shattered Gates Volume 1 Part 3)

by Bryan S. Glosemeyer

  30.

  AFTER DAYBREAK, THE last of the rain faded, and everyone gathered in the common room for breakfast, except for Edlashuul who remained ill in bed. Sabira and the others from the balcony awaited them, still wet from the last of the morning drizzle. A lem had brought them towels, and Gabriel showed Sabira how to instruct the forma material of her tunic to shed itself dry of water in moments. Beyond, in the golden haze of the vista window, columns of smoke climbed up from the streets of Glish and into the dawn.

  “You need to get off this planet. You need to leave now.” Sabira stood before the gathered embassy, various stages of confusion and fear written across their faces. She wondered if their fear was a reaction to what she said or the fact that she stood unbound before them for the first time. And realized she, too, was afraid. Something felt different inside her, off balance. More than just the strangeness of the eon’s visions lingering in the back of her mind, more than the ecstatic bliss she felt on the balcony, bathed in the impossible beauty of a soft rain at sunrise. Like a twisting deep in Sabira’s chest and skull, she felt as though she was breaking apart, her mind splintering.

  The splinter whispered, a cold prickle on the back of her neck. What are you doing? Don’t be a fool.

  “What do you mean?” asked Derev the Aggie, sleepy eyes growing wide as he spoke. “What’s happened? And why is she loose?”

  A lem walked in from the lift, its amorphous head transitioning into Orion. “Sounds crunchy. What did I miss?”

  “Sabira experienced the purge last night,” said Maia. “Gabriel and I agree that it’s time to get her out of that wheelchair. Time to free her from the bonds we’ve held her in as we free her from the chemical bonds of the Theocrats.”

  “I could have done that for her without all the pukey mess,” offered Orion.

  “Now is not the time to be arguing the merits of ceremonial tradition. The purge is part of the medicine. The experience is part of the healing,” said Maia.

  “Can we get back to what Sabira was saying, please?” said Rain. “I think that’s what we’re all most concerned about.”

  “Yes,” said Sabira. “You all need to leave target plan— Dlamakuuz. You need to leave soon. You’re all in danger.” She looked at Maia and Gabriel. “All of you.”

  “From the Vleez?” asked Cal. “You’re the one they want. Not us. They’re all sick like Ed.”

  “We will be leaving in three days,” said Gabriel. “I will keep this Embassy safe from any locals, official or otherwise, who may no longer find our presence tolerable. You will be safe, I promise you. Orion is preparing the Shishiguchi even as we speak. In three days we depart from Dlamakuuz and return to the Constellation. A new life, a free life, awaits you. Just as we promised.”

  “Godsdammit, it’s not the Vleez we need to worry about.” Sabira rubbed at her scarred chest. “It’s the Warseers and Servants. This plague was part of the conquest strategy.”

  Stop this now, stupid driller. You can’t trust these infidels.

  “The first wave was to test the defenses and disperse the bioweapon. Once the plague had weakened the population, they were planning to come back. There won’t be enough vleez to fight them off.”

  Traitor.

  “Look. Look at those columns of smoke.” Sabira pointed to the windows. “They’re burning bodies in the streets.”

  Good, let the vermin burn. Cleanse the way for Divine Will.

  “Sabira, it is common to have strong, overwhelming feelings after drinking eon,” said Maia. “It can be like you are experiencing emotions with the intensity of a child again. You do not need to be so worried. You heard Gabriel. We are leaving soon. We will keep you safe.”

  “I know that you will try,” Sabira said. “But if the Unity comes back before you leave, we will all be unified. Those they don’t return to the Masters will be sacrificed. The three of you will be tortured first. They’ll want to know who sent you, why you’re here. Even after you tell them, they’ll still torture you, and then throw what’s left into the fighting pits.”

  As it should be. This is Divine Will.

  “Don’t underestimate us too soon,” offered Gabriel with a satisfied-looking grin.

  “And you should understand,” said Maia, “we have good reasons to ask you to be patient. Not only will it take time to prepare our ship—”

  “My ship,” interjected Orion.

  “Orion’s ship,” continued Maia, “for a much larger crew, but we need time for you to complete the ceremony. There are still two more nights left. I know this is all new and foreign to you, but if you do not complete the ceremony in a proper way, it could cause you harm. Three nights, three ceremonies. That is the way.”

  “What about on Orion’s ship?”

  “The eon must be grounded. The ceremony must take place planetside. The traditions are old, but they exist for a reason. Two more nights, two more ceremonies. Then we leave.”

  “And besides, girl,” said Coraz from ahns seat on the couch next to Dawn. “Your servant friend needs more time to heal. She shouldn’t be moved to orbit, not just yet. The Constellation medicine they’ve given her is astoundingly good. She’d be dead without it. But it still takes time.”

  “If the Warseers really do come back, they will attack as soon as the Vleez defenses are at their weakest. Which is now.” Sabira clenched her rubbing hand into a fist over her scar, felt her quickening pulse.

  “How can you be so certain?” asked Rain. “How can you possibly know the Gohnzol-Lo’s secret strategy? You were property of the Pinnacle, yes, but your glyphs, you have no rank, you’re only a skin. The Gohnzol-Lo share strategy with ranks only, and even then on rare occasion.”

  “But why would she lie about it?” asked Torque from the back of the room, near the lift. “That’s what I have to say to that.”

  “Could be part of a trap,” said Derev.

  “I’m not lying,” Sabira insisted. “It’s not a trap.”

  “We don’t think you are lying, girl,” said Coraz. “At least I don’t. But still, Rain does make a good point. You have no ranking glyphs. How can you know what the Warseers and the Masters have planned for Dlamakuuz?”

  “Because of my blood,” she answered.

  Blood you’ve spilled to become who you are. How can you betray your own blood for these infidels? Trickster’s seed has taken root in your heart. Better to cut it from your ribs than to betray Divine Will.

  “What do you mean, Sabira?” asked Maia, her touch gliding down Sabira’s back, offering comfort.

  “I mean my blood. My bloodline has always been in the highest ranks of Servants. See this glyph?” She bowed her head and pointed to the oldest mark on the top of her scalp. “This is the ownership glyph of the Pinnacle, the Ihvnahg-Ra dra Nahgak-Za.”

  “Rain already told us about your former master,” said Orion. “That doesn’t matter here. That part of your life is over now.”

  “There’s more than just who my Master was. All my life, I’ve been groomed for the highest ranks, just as the others in my bloodline before me.”

  You’ve been blessed. Given an opportunity to earn glory and honor most unseen could never even dream of, a chance to be found worthy before the Gates of Heaven. And you’re going to puke it all away. For them?

  “Sabira,” said Rain, a tight caution in his voice, “what high ranks are in your bloodline?”

  “My blood-grandfather was Spear,” she said, “Attendant to the Ihvgohn-Lo of Pyramid Zol-Ri, Urzdek Rab Izd. My blood-mother is Gunna, Handmaiden to the Divine Masters, the highest-ranking human in all the Holy Unity.”

  “Your blood-mother is the Handmaiden?” said Derev, alarmed, almost stunned. “Is that true? This is deep bad. They’re definitely going to come for her.”

  “She is telling the truth about her former owner at the very least,” said Rain. “That glyph, I can verify it. This is the mark of the Ihvnahg-Ra.”

  “I told you
. I told you,” said Cal. “We can’t trust her. She’s one of them. She’s killing Ed.”

  “I’m not . . .”

  You’re a Servant of the Divine Masters. You are their weapon just as much as the virus in the vermin’s blood. What difference does it make if it was your stick or the grank’s mist that does the killing?

  “So does that make you like a slave princess or something?” asked Orion.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Orion, please, you’re not helping,” said Maia. “Sabira, do you have more information about the Theocrats’ strategy? How long do they plan to wait before returning?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Sabira. “Not exactly. Weeks.”

  “How many weeks?” asked Gabriel.

  “I don’t know.”

  And it’s a good thing, too. The Pinnacles never should have trusted you. What would Grandfather Spear say, if he could hear you now? Or Daggeira?

  “Oh she’s useless,” grumbled Derev.

  “Sabira, is there any reason to think we don’t have enough time?” asked Rain. “Is three days really too long?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t . . . I just know they were planning on coming back.”

  “Considering the apocalypse outside our front window,” said Orion, “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

  “How is work on the cure coming?” asked Maia.

  “Churning through the permutations now,” answered Orion. “Should have something ready for the Vleez by the time we leave.”

  “Let’s just hope there’s still any Vleez left by then,” said Coraz.

  Maia stepped to the center of the room. “Our mission remains the same. To liberate any and all lost brothers and sisters that we can, no matter their family, no matter their former master. Sabira is like the rest of you now. You are her family, and she is yours. Nothing has changed. Adept Hanada still needs time to prepare the ship and work. Sabira and I still need time to complete the ceremony.”

  “In three days, we leave for the Constellation,” said Gabriel. “In that time I will protect this Embassy and all within it with my very life. You have my word as an Emissary.”

  “You may be needing to prove your point sooner than you think, Gabe.” Orion pointed to one of the walls, and it came alive with light and color. The screen displayed a surveillance view of the Embassy’s front entrance. A mob of vleez congregated on the street outside. Many held guns and short weapons in their six-fingered hands. Others held poles with frayed banners flapping above their heads. “Looks like the locals finally caught word of our special guest.”

  31.

  “NOW I KNOW you’re all frightened.” Gabriel’s voice carried a new weight of authority. “Listen to our instructions, and everything will be alright. First, stay here and stay quiet. I’ll go down and de-escalate the locals. Orion, with me. I want three lems down there, as well. Everyone else, do as Maia tells you, and you’ll be safe.” He and Orion-lem strode into the lift, slid the gate shut. “This won’t be long.”

  The lift descended, disappearing below the floor. Soon after, two lems emerged from the eastern hall and descended the pole shafts.

  “Sabira already said she’s ready to give herself up,” said Derev. “Why don’t we just give them the servants like they want?”

  Sabira expected Cal to voice his agreement, but the boy remained silent, eyes down instead of glaring at her for a change.

  “If it will keep everyone safe, I will keep my word and give myself over,” said Sabira.

  Yes. Dying at the enemy’s hand is still a good death. You might still be found worthy of Heaven.

  “But Daggeira stays. You heal her wounds and take her with you. Free her from the Masters, and I’ll go.”

  “What did we just tell you?” said Maia. “All of you are safe. No one is being given to the Monarchy.”

  “Girl, we did not go through the trouble of patching up all the holes in you just so those vleez can poke you full of more,” said Coraz. “You sit and do as Maia says.”

  Dawn gestured at the wall display. “But there are so many of them. Look,” she said. “There are at least eighteen or more. And some of them have guns. How can Gabriel and Orion possibly keep us safe?”

  “Dawn and the servant are right,” said Derev. “Before anyone else gets hurt, we should just—”

  The abrupt audio blast from the monitor interrupted him. Torque had activated a speaker function in the wall while the group argued. The loud, droning chant of the vleez gathered outside filled the room. The screen showed them waving their tattered banners and firearms as they repeated the chant over and over.

  “What are they saying?” asked Playa.

  “Baby killer, baby killer. Plague bringer, plague bringer,” said Cal. “Bring them out. Bring them out.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they’re saying. You all heard Gabriel and Maia. Sabira is one of us now,” said Rain. “We owe the Embassy everything. Everything. If Gabriel says we stay calm, we stay calm. If Maia says Sabira stays with us, then Sabira stays with us.”

  “What about the other one then?” asked Derev. “She’s not been liberated. She’s not brood. Give her over.”

  “Don’t you touch her.” Sabira’s hands clenched into fists.

  Derev flinched, drawing his shoulders in tight, eyes blinking.

  He still fears you. Make them all fear you.

  On the screen, Gabriel, Orion, and two lems opened the front door and stepped out. It always puzzled Sabira to see Gabriel outside without a respirator. As before, he spoke in Connish while a lem translated it into Vleezian.

  “Let Gabriel do his job,” said Maia. “He is a fourth tier Emissary. He knows what he is doing.”

  Watching the encounter play out on the monitor, Sabira thought it didn’t look like the vleez liked what Gabriel had to say, whatever tier he was. Several of the vleez transitioned from waving their guns in the air to leveling them at his chest.

  A mental flash of Cannon, dying, screaming as his face melted from his skull.

  “No one else dies because of me,” said Sabira, barely more than a whisper. She snatched a respirator mask and bounded for the pole shaft. As she wrapped her arms around the pole, she heard Maia yelling her name. The pole’s texture felt similar to the rope vines. Her palms and thighs burned as she slid down.

  In a blur she dropped past the opening of the second floor, just catching a glimpse of the kitchen. Though her legs were usually strong and springy, the stiffness of all those days in the chair and bed had weakened them significantly. She tumbled at the base of the pole and hit the floor hard.

  Hips stinging, hands burning, she pushed herself to her feet. Her vision swam before leveling out. The Embassy’s bottom floor featured a central, hexagonal room a few meters wider than on the third floor. All around lay ornate, multicolor cushions and low hexagonal tables. Flowering plants filled the area, the humid air thick with their perfume. Maia had told her previously the first floor is where they met and entertained the local politicians and ambassadors. A heavy, translucent curtain encircled a wide space around the front door. The door was closed, and another lem waited motionless in the foyer between curtain and door.

  A wall display showed a high angle view of the scene just outside. It was too far away to make out much detail, but she could see the vleez were packing in tighter, creating their own semicircle around the entrance. The Emissary and the Adept stood like a bullseye at the center.

  “Might as well finish this,” she whispered to herself.

  May you stand before the Shattered Gates and be found worthy, the splinter answered.

  Still aching and stiff, she headed toward the curtain. She would need to be quick to make it past the lem standing sentinel on the other side. She found the curtain’s entrance flap, grabbed a fistful, and stuck the mask over her face. Before she could pull the curtain aside, her knees were slammed from behind and buckled beneath her. She fell hard onto her
left hip, caught the rest of her fall on her elbow and forearm. Sharp pain lanced up her arm and neck, igniting reflexes, uncapping anger. Sabira rolled through the momentum, came up in a deep crouch and readied herself to spring.

  Before her, Cal rolled from the base of the curtain and scrambled to his feet. “No no no,” he said. “You’re not going.”

  Confusion overtook her anger. She stood, took the mask from her face. “What are you doing, mine rat?”

  “You’re not.” He stood directly in front of the curtain’s opening flap.

  “And you think you can stop me?”

  He didn’t answer, but stood unmoving, clenching his jaw, looking at her, right in her eyes.

  “Don’t be stupid, boy. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I have to go. So no one else gets hurt because of me.”

  “No no no. No one else is dying. Ed’s up there right now. It’s going to be soon. And I’m not letting anyone else die. Not anymore.”

  “Cal, I . . .”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t want your friends to die, then you have to let me go.”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to go anyway.”

  “Listen to the boy, Sabira.” Rain emerged from the lift. Another lem walked beside him. “And listen to Gabriel and Maia. Give them a chance to resolve this their way. We owe them at least that.” He stood next to Cal in front of the curtain.

  Sabira felt her momentum falling away. Rain was right. She did owe them.

  “Just give Gabriel and Orion the chance they deserve,” Rain continued. “Lem, do that bit with the walls and translate it all into Khvaziz while you’re at it, won’t you?”

  The lem adjusted the front walls to appear as though they were completely transparent. Sabira assumed the effect was one way since no one outside was gawking at the suddenly invisible wall and the defenseless humans on the other side.

  “—you don’t bring the baby killers out, we’ll go in and take all the humans.”

  “—Glish is for Vleez, not for the Slavers' cast offs.”