by David Beers
Rhett had nodded, prepared to answer questions. “Yes. This holograph is only of one specific location, though, so it won’t take very long.”
The official had looked back down at the document and nodded, though a frown sat across his face.
Rhett eventually made it through, and now sat in a bar outside of immigration, waiting on David.
“I’ll tell you where to go once you’re there,” he had said. “I have things to deal with right now. I don’t have time to follow her again, not at the moment.”
A plate of mostly untouched food sat in front of Rhett. He did enjoy the Old World’s cuisine. There was something different about food grown above ground. The True Faith’s SkyLight simply couldn’t match the sun when it came to taste.
Rhett wasn’t eating, though, because he was waiting on David—and had been for the past hour.
Rhett’s blood started itching 30 minutes ago, and hadn’t let up, so he thought that was a good sign. At least David was working, and hopefully at finding this woman.
A lot of problems lay on Rhett’s shoulders, but the heaviest was knowing he probably couldn’t capture this woman. If she was anything like David, even a tenth of him, then Rhett would be killed the moment he tried. As far as he was concerned, this was a suicide mission.
He admired Stellan for giving his life.
And now he understood that he was to do the same.
He was fine with dying for David. Dying for the Unformed. There had been no guarantee that he would see this through to the end, yet …
Rhett didn’t want to die so foolishly. Sending him, a mortal, against someone akin to a god?
He shook his head, staring down at his food. He wasn’t scared yet, though he knew that would come soon. Probably when he laid eyes upon the woman.
Come with me, he would say, knowing he was powerless to move her.
The fear would strike then.
Message received, his nanotech told him.
Tell me. No visual. If it was a holograph, Rhett certainly wouldn’t display it in this place.
She’s in New Rome. It was Christine’s voice he heard, relaying David’s message since he possessed no nanotech. She’s with two men. One is her prisoner, the other is helping her.
Where in New Rome? Rhett asked.
He says he’ll give you more information when you get there. How long will it take you?
Another six hours, Rhett said. I’d like to know where I’m going before I’m there.
He’ll let you know, Christine said.
The connection ended, his nanotech silent.
Rhett looked at the uneaten food for another few seconds, wondering if this was to be his last meal. He hoped not. He truly did.
He kept his eyes open as he said a prayer, wondering if the Unformed would hear it.
You chose him. He’s your vessel. Please guide his decisions to be the right ones. Please don’t let me die in vain.
Daniel looked at his daughter, unable to fully believe what he saw, nor deny it.
They were inside a small motel room with two beds. The unnamed psycho was in the corner, always where Daniel could see him. Daniel had tied new knots in his restraints, this time connecting his hands to his feet so that he couldn’t rise off of the floor.
They’d been in the room for two hours, and Nicki had been standing the entire time. In one spot. Staring at a wall.
“It’s amazing,” the man said from the floor. “Magical.”
“Shut up.”
Nicki said nothing to either of them. She stood silently, her face slack, seeing something that no one else in the room could. Daniel remembered his own times like this, and not one of them had lasted this long. Hours? Hardly. His episodes had lasted a few minutes at most, and that had been more than enough.
“Nicki?” he said, standing up from his chair and walking over to her.
She gave no indication that she heard anything. She only blinked, but even that was done sparingly.
“Nicki, baby?”
Still nothing.
He took his palm and moved it in front of her eyes, something he’d repeated innumerable times since this trance began. She only stared forward.
“What do you think she’s seeing?” the psycho asked.
“Hopefully your death.” Daniel went back and sat down on his chair. There wasn’t any way to pull her out of this. She’d be inside it until it was done with her; Daniel could only wait.
He looked at the man on the floor. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m not the one staring at the wall.”
“Yeah, but something is still wrong with you. Why do you enjoy this so much?”
“You’re special. Or you were. She still is. She’s a butterfly in a world of moths. Should I not enjoy gazing upon her?”
Daniel stared at the psycho for a moment longer, then chuckled and shook his head. “Do you think they’re going to come this way? East?”
The man raised an eyebrow, his face placid. The only emotions Daniel had seen from him were pure joy and pure hatred. Both relating to his daughter. The rest of the time, he was an empty canister—something that only carried around the organs inside him.
“Let me touch her and I’ll tell you what I think.”
“No,” Daniel said.
The man leaned back against the wall and continued staring at Nicki.
Daniel had started east after the man told him what was probably happening with their relatives. Daniel had no plan, only to run. Try to hide. He knew that wasn’t good enough, and it wasn’t something they could do forever. Sooner or later, the Church would find them. Or this psychopath would wiggle from his restraints when they weren’t looking. Sooner or later, disaster would come.
Do something then, he thought.
Maybe she can.
Daniel didn’t know what she was seeing, or really what she’d seen on the trip here. The dark man with gray eyes. The dark part, Daniel didn’t understand—but the gray eyes were unmistakable. He’d seen pictures of Rachel Veritros. Most people had, even though they weren’t supposed to. He’d seen pictures of her gray eyes ablaze, commanding armies against the four ministries.
The gray eyes were from the Black.
And that’s what his daughter had seen on the road.
He’s watching me.
A shiver crept down Daniel’s spine and he glanced at the man on the floor to see if he’d noticed. His eyes were closed. Good.
He didn’t understand what was happening with his daughter. Didn’t understand what the Black wanted with her.
Do something then, he thought again. Do something to keep her safe.
The First Priest sat in the black box once again, wishing he were anywhere else.
He had no choice though. The High Priest had to approve the plan, and hopefully the First Priest’s handling of the whole situation.
It looked like all of this would be over soon. The First Priest had successfully thwarted the Black’s return without a single life lost. None of the violence and destruction which plagued Rachel Veritros’s rise would occur.
The First Priest waited in darkness, though for a much shorter time.
He felt the tingling in his eyes after about five minutes.
The holograph shot forth, illuminating the dark box. He saw the High Priest in green outline. His back was to the First Priest, his hood down and revealing his bald head.
We give thanks, the First said.
We give thanks, the High responded.
I have good news, I believe, your Holiness.
I would like to hear it. He appeared to be looking down at something on his desk, though the First Priest couldn’t see what.
We have the weapon’s location. The informant gave it to us and we are currently readying the military to destroy it and its followers.
The High Priest looked up at the wall in front of him, his back still to the First. Does the weapon know we have his location?
No.
A slight nod
and then silence for some time.
Brother, the High said, if you were in the weapon’s position, what would you do? If you looked out a window and saw the True Faith’s force bearing down on you?
I would fight.
Yes, I believe you would. I believe he will, too. Who is leading your attack?
The First Priest didn’t necessarily like this part. He thought the woman, Raylyn Brinson, weak. The Director who has been in charge since the beginning. I have also included a Disciple, and he’s been with her for the past few days.
Ah, a Disciple. That is not a bad idea at all, the High Priest said as if it would have never occurred to him. The First Priest didn’t know how to take the compliment, or if it was one at all. He stayed silent and waited. Do you think this Director is capable of wiping out the weapon?
I have carefully examined her plans, and they’re acceptable. They won’t require much from her. There are 400 people in the compound, very few—if any—actual weapons. The main source of reprisal will come from the Black’s weapon. The false prophet.
I’ve been sitting here for some time, my First Priest, thinking. I’ve been lost in thought a lot lately, and I would like your opinion on these thoughts I’ve been pondering. Is that okay?
I’m here to serve you, your Holiness. You and Corinth.
And you do a great job, the High Priest said. Nothing about him moved. It was as if he wasn’t even alive, but another piece of furniture in the room. I’ve been thinking that maybe we don’t really know what is happening right now. I’ve been in this position for many years. More than I can remember, if I’m being honest with you. It’s a lonely position, one with few perks and no love outside of that which Corinth gives me. It’s easy to forget things here.
The First Priest had never heard him speak so extensively, nor did he want to. Was he rambling, or was there some message here? Was the High losing his edge, or was this genius flowing from him? The First Priest didn’t even want to consider those questions, the answers be damned. He only wanted to send his fleet toward the weapon and end all of this.
I’ve understood everything that happened within the True Faith for my entire term as High Priest. It is my job to understand what happens, and to ensure that those directly beneath me are the most righteous people I can find. I’ve done all of this very well, up until now. Because things are currently happening that I don’t understand. This weapon, this Blackness threatening to destroy our world, is only a piece of it.
The High Priest fell silent.
Your Holiness, I’m not sure I comprehend, the First said.
There is another weapon wandering this Earth right now. Not the one that you’ve cornered, but one the Old World created. Corinth showed her to me. The High sighed and looked back down at his desk. We were lucky last time, but I don’t think luck is with us now. I think perhaps forces are conspiring that our faith may not be able to stop.
The First Priest didn’t know what to say. He was horrified—disgusted—at such a thought. The High Priest did not doubt, and if he did, then he should not be the High Priest.
Still, we must keep our faith, the High continued. That is certain. Our Disciples work best within our territory, but we will need to send one after this girl.
Yes, my High Priest.
You will do this immediately?
Yes, of course.
Good, the High said. He was silent after that, appearing to only stare at his desk.
The First Priest waited, hoping he wouldn’t have to ask. Eventually, he had to. Do we have your permission to go after the weapon?
Do you think you will win?
Yes, your Holiness. We will defeat him easily. He’s one man and unprepared. We will lose some transports and possibly soldiers, but he will be eliminated.
You have my approval. Have your Disciple bring me the girl. Alive. I want to have a look at her brain.
Three more hours passed.
That’s when Nicki’s hands started shaking. Trembling. Daniel had been slumped back in his chair, trying his best not to doze off. When Nicki returned, he might be able to take a short nap, but he had to stay alert until then.
Her shaking hand pulled him from any tempting slumber.
“Nicki?” he asked.
The trembling moved up her arms, making her shoulders shiver.
Daniel stood up and quickly moved to her side.
Tears were in the girl’s eyes. She didn’t look over to him, but kept her endless stare forward. Her lips quivered and then she folded her arms over her stomach, as if trying to stop the shaking.
“Nicki? Honey? Can you hear me?”
She pulled her arms tighter around herself and a tear dripped from her eye, rolling down the left side of her face.
“Daddy?” she asked, still staring forward.
“Yes, yes, it’s me.” Daniel’s words rushed out of his mouth almost as one.
Had the bed not been behind her, she would have simply collapsed to the floor. Her knees buckled and she fell backwards. She hit the bed and then immediately turned on her side, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Her whole body was shivering now.
“Baby, baby, are you okay?” Daniel said as he dashed to the bed, climbing on and moving over his daughter.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God oh my God oh my God.”
The words tumbled from her mouth like a river over a cliff, falling endlessly and without hesitation. Daniel put his hands on her shoulders and tried turning her on her back. She jerked her shoulders away, remaining locked in a ball.
“Oh my God oh my God oh my GOD!”
The last word was a shriek that rang through the room, piercing Daniel’s ears and heart. His own eyes filled with tears as he pulled at his daughter, trying to free her from herself.
“Honey, come here. Come here!”
He finally pried an arm loose and took advantage, lifting her up and pulling Nicki to him. Her head kept shaking back and forth in fast, short jerks.
“Honey, what is it? What’s going on?”
Her body shivered in Daniel’s arms and she kept trying to pull away, fighting his grip as if he was trying to hurt her.
“THEY’RE COMING! THEY’RE ALL COMING FOR ME!” she screamed into the room, her eyes wide and staring at the ceiling above.
Fear ripping through Daniel, he looked over at the man in the corner.
He saw a smile of pure joy.
Twenty
The True Faith Ministry
“I think it’s a good plan,” the Disciple said.
Raylyn said nothing but only looked at the transports in front of her. Five hundred. She’d never seen such an armada in all of her life.
“It’ll work,” Lynda said, sounding much less convinced than Rogan.
Raylyn didn’t know if it was a good plan. She thought it was the best option they had, but that might only mean the others were horrible.
She kept going back to what the informant had said.
If you come, and he’s here, we’ll probably all die—all of us but him.
The 500 transports before her were mostly empty. They floated in the air, waiting on her command. She stood in the Prevention Division’s Building One. In its bay, to be accurate. This was where the PD housed its military force, though they rarely used it. There simply wasn’t any need for this many armed transports.
That’s not true, she thought. There is one need for them, and that’s why you’re here.
They’d just come from the back bay, where five much larger transports hovered. Those contained men. Artificial intelligence would fly the single occupant ones here, arriving first and encircling the compound. The five larger transports carried 150 men each, and they would arrive after the AI had done its job.
Which was simple.
To kill anyone and everyone inside the compound.
The men coming in next would be clean up, if a bit overkill.
If you come, and he’s here, we’ll probably all die
—all of us but him.
“Are we ready?” the Disciple asked.
Raylyn nodded.
The trip would take ten hours. The compound existed; the informant hadn’t been lying. Drones confirmed exactly what they’d said. This was real, not a hoax, with 400 people living inside the building.
The Disciple stepped back from the armada and went into Building One. Their own transport was much smaller, waiting at the bottom of the building. They would follow behind the first and second groups, monitoring everything until it was safe for them to enter.
Raylyn turned around, ready to follow the Disciple, but Lynda stopped her.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said, “but I wanted to tell you that … I don’t know.” She laughed. “It seems funny even saying it, but that I loved working for you.” Tears were in her eyes.
Raylyn smiled, her own vision growing blurry. “We never actually expected to die doing this job, did we?”
“No. I never did.”
Raylyn hugged her second in command, closing her eyes as she did.
Manor’s face came to her in the darkness.
She tried to focus on Lynda, but it was Manor she thought about. Because she might very well be going to her death, and if so, she would never see him again.
They pulled away and Lynda wiped at her tears. “Let’s go before he decides to start moving us with our nanotech.” Lynda smiled, though the words were bitter to Raylyn’s ears.
The two walked in and took the descender down to the bottom of the building, neither speaking on the way.
The Disciple was waiting inside the transport, looking forward. Calm. Not even slightly worried that he might die.
Raylyn stepped in and took her place next to Lynda.
Command all transports to begin expedition, she told her nanotech.
Their own transport floated up the side of the building, and Raylyn watched in awe as the ships moved into the sky. Row after row exited the bay, taking flight—a force the True Faith hadn’t mustered in 1,000 years.
Her mouth opened slightly, the majesty of it all taking her breath away.