He summoned up his hatred, understanding this emotion was what his lover desired, and pushed the red button. The sky canoe shuddered as the pulse cannon released the lightning it had built up and shot a blue line towards Immanu's house. Mud-bricks exploded upwards. The contents of the house caught fire and rained down amongst the abutting houses.
He felt curiously empty as he watched the conflagration. There were no blue eyes staring into his as there had been in his daydream. He did not see his enemy fall. He did not feel his enemy die in his arms the way the lion had. He did not feel exhausted, or injured, or even a sense of relief. Mikhail's death felt … anticlimactic. As if he had just killed no one at all.
"No," Lucifer's voice sounded almost strangled as he reached into Jamin's mind and found nothing. "Be happy, chol beag. I have kept my promise, for your enemy is dead."
Jamin met Eligor's gaze in the reflection of the windshield.
"There was no honor in the killing," Jamin said flatly as he stared at sparks fly up into the sky. "As much as I hated the man, he deserved to die by my hand."
Lucifer stroked him, projected images into his mind, tried to coax him into a frenzy so he could feed off of it, but there was nothing for Lucifer to grasp onto. Jamin might as well have killed a rock.
Jamin stepped away from Lucifer's embrace, eager to avoid the scorn he was certain lived beneath Eligor's hooded gaze that he was nothing but a kadesh, a men who lay down with other men.
A shock rocked the sky canoe and threw Jamin into the wall. Eligor jerked back the controls and knocked him back the other way as the sky canoe banked suddenly in the opposite direction. White feathers flew as wings flapped to keep their balance. Lights dimmed. Warning alarms went off and screeched incessantly, alarms he knew meant something was terribly wrong with the ship.
"What happened?" Lucifer shouted at Eligor.
Eligor fought to keep the sky canoe in the sky.
"We just lost our starboard engine, Sir," Eligor said. He flipped a series of switches. The sky canoe felt wobbly, but half of the warning buzzers stopped screaming. "I can get us to a safe distance for repairs, but we can't fly ground cover on just one engine."
"How did this happen?" Lucifer asked. His voice dripped with contempt as he projected an image of Pareesa heaving a spear at them. "Did one of his people hit us with a primitive weapon?"
"It seems your quarry had a working pulse rifle," the dirty-winged Angelic named Zepar accused. "He has betrayed you, Master. He has betrayed you just as I warned he would!"
A warning bell of fear trembled within Jamin's gut. Zepar had the air about him of a mistress who'd recently been usurped.
"I overheard him tell my father the magic which makes the weapon work was gone," Jamin said.
He felt Lucifer probe his mind, take out the memory, turn it over, savor it, and then put it back where it belonged.
"He tells the truth," Lucifer said. "Either the Seraphim found a way to recharge it, or it was not as empty as he claimed."
"Sir?" Eligor said from the pilot's seat. "What do you wish for me to do?"
Lucifer caressed Jamin's cheek, laying his claim on him, making it known that they were lovers and he felt no shame.
"I promised the little chieftain I would give him back his village," Lucifer said. "The lizards have two gunships and are about to move in. Hover over a rooftop, and then open the hatch so my peataí can jump out and smite his enemies." Lucifer projected an image into his mind of approaching Mikhail the same way he had smote the lion. "He shall kill his enemy with his own hand. Just the way he prefers."
Jamin noted the look of pity Eligor gave him at whatever term of endearment that Lucifer had just used. Peataí? It was a word he had not yet learned to translate from the Galactic Standard.
The ship wobbled as Eligor maneuvered it to hover over a rooftop on the north side of the village. Here, he would meet no resistance from armed villagers with spears. He strode back to the hatch, his heart pounding as the two cold-eyed goons opened the door and the air rushed in, deafened by the roar of the engine. His stomach clenched as he stared down at the rooftop, which was not so very close as he had hoped.
'Go smite those who have done you wrong, chol beag,' Lucifer projected into his mind. 'Know that I shall journey with you. And when you are done, we shall have another feast.'
He felt Lucifer take root inside his mind, just as he had when he had killed the lion. Had it only happened yesterday, that noble hunt which had marked him twice a man? Why, then, did it seem so very long ago? Or that he had suddenly become diminished?
Lucifer caressed his cheek.
"If you truly wish to rule this world," Lucifer said, "you must make your enemy suffer until he begs for death."
Lucifer found the memory he wanted and projected the image back into his mind…
"Yes," Jamin said. "I shall smite first those who ordered me cast out of the village. It shall give me the pleasure of carving his heart out twice."
The wind whipped his long, black trench coat around his legs like Shay'tan's wings. His eyes still held by Lucifer's now-flaming red ones, Jamin leaped out of the sky canoe and cast himself to his fate.
~ * ~ * ~
Chapter 95
February: 3,389 BC
Earth: South of Assur
Gita
Panic interrupted the song as Gita slept before the dawn.
Get out! Now!
Her heart raced as she woke up screaming. Even though the sky only bore the slightest hint of pre-dawn grey, her eyes were filled with fire and destruction.
"Mikhail!" Gita shrieked.
Dadbeh leaped up and grabbed his spear, aiming outwards into the desert and not at her, perceiving she had screamed because of a threat. The wiry man was fierce despite his unimpressive stature, and had there been a raider, Gita had no doubt he would have done his best to keep them safe. He checked on their prisoner's bindings, and then backed up to see what had spooked her.
“Gita,” Dadbeh whispered, “are you okay?”
She stifled the urge to cry out. It felt as though her brain had been plunged into darkness and water filled her lungs. Sweat dampened her brow even though it was cold, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop the trembling of her limbs.
“Mikhail,” Gita gasped. “He’s been hurt.”
“How do you know?” Dadbeh asked. He noticed she was having trouble breathing and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Breathe, Gita. Did you inhale some sand?"
Gita fought to shake off the darkness which threatened to overwhelm her mind.
"Tie up the prisoner," Gita said. "Assur has just come under attack."
"How do you know?" Dadbeh asked.
Before she could answer, lightning striking the ground lit up the sky in the direction they were headed. Dadbeh gaped, and then ran to jam the Uruk prisoner into a cave so that a lion wouldn't come along and eat him while he lay bound and helpless upon the ground.
Gita gathered up their weapons, sobbing as she choked out the words to the song. She could feel Mikhail's life energy begin to fade. The longer he went without air, the less likely he would survive.
‘Wake up, my love,’ Gita whispered into the void. ‘You are underneath the water. You must wake up and swim to the surface so you can breathe.’
She sensed his limbs obey her command.
‘Swim, my love, swim,’ she called. ‘Rise to the surface so you can breathe!’
She felt him struggle, not sure which way was up. At last she sensed a huge gasp for breath as he finally made his way back to the surface. Tears welled in her eyes with relief. She could feel him cough great wracking coughs and vomit salt water out of his gut and lungs. Salt? She could taste salt. Had he really travelled so far in such a short period of time? The God of War whispered that help was on the way.
‘Just float on your back in the water, my love,’ she whispered through the bond that bound them. ‘Help is on the way. Save your strength. The only thing you have to do is breathe.’
&nbs
p; She closed her eyes and focused on that feeling which connected her to Mikhail. It felt as though his arms, his wings, his entire body was being cradled and carried afloat; as though dozens of fishermen had swum out to keep his head above the water until they could guide him back into the shore.
The old god urged her to hurry to Assur, for if she did not, her chance to clear her name would be lost forever. She gathered up her things and met Dadbeh by the cave. He had rolled some rocks in front of it, burying their Uruk prisoner alive.
"Taziq will suffocate if we leave him in there too long," Gita said.
"It would serve him right," Dadbeh said, "for killing Tiaa's husband."
"I care not if he lives," Gita said. "Only that he testifies before the tribunal before he expires."
"Then we must make all deliberate haste to find out what causes the lightning to linger over Assur," Dadbeh said. "Either She-who-is has grown displeased, or the lizard demons have finally decided to visit us with a sky canoe."
They broke out in a brisk jog across the sands, unable to go faster because the sun had not yet risen high enough to illuminate the barren land. As they ran, Gita sensed a second source of strength, a darker power, familiar, the one which had helped her use a sword the day the Uruk had broken into Mikhail's bedchamber.
The sky turned blood red, but as it rose, the sun chose not to shine upon the wraith that had learned to use the darkness to hide.
~ * ~ * ~
Chapter 96
Galactic Standard Date: 152,324.02 AE
Zulu Sector: Jehoshaphat
General Abaddon
Abaddon
"Sir? We're being hailed."
General Abaddon flared his hawk-grey wings like a raptor which had just spotted a mouse. For several weeks now they had traversed the fringe of Zulu Sector, searching for radio signals which might indicated where Brigadier-General Raphael had gone to, along with his hundred missing ships. Could this be them?
Abaddon leaned forward in his commander's chair.
"Who is it?"
Lieutenant-Captain Shzzzkt listened intently into his headphones. His dual green antennae tilted forward with surprise.
"She said her name is Derketo,” Shzzzkt said, “matriarch of the Sabawaelnu pod. They live upon the merchant vessel, Mi'kmaq. She claims she has information which may lead you to your quarry."
Abaddon's gunship grey eyes narrowed like a raptor spying its prey. "Separatists?"
"So it would appear," Shzzzkt said.
"Separatists, Sir?" his Logistics Officer asked.
"Separatists," Abaddon said. He leaned forward and pinched his chin between his forefinger and thumb. "Pull up an image of that ship on the long-range scans."
The image was little more than a speck, but there was enough resolution to betray it was a mangy-looking vessel, the kind used by smugglers, mercenaries, and aspiring colonists to evade both Alliance and Sata'anic patrols. Such ships were used by the people who chose to live their out their lives in the wild frontier, and in their wake they usually left a trail of criminal activities.
"If you don’t mind my asking, Sir?” his Logistics Officer asked, betraying her inexperience, “what is a separatist?”
Abaddon rustled his feathers with annoyance at the breach of decorum, but no. It wasn’t her fault the Emperor had ordered all talk of such things be edited out of Alliance history books.
"The first thing the Mer-Levi Confederation did upon winning independence from the Alliance," Abaddon said, "was vote to free the Merfolk from the Emperor's edict that all non-naturally evolved species must serve a minimum of 500 years in the military."
"Slavery!" his third officer, Lieutenant-Captain Shzzzkt hissed under his breath. The Mantoids on his crew made no secret of the fact they found the Emperor's policies reprehensible.
"Some of those Merfolk then chose to take that freedom," Abaddon said, "and abscond with their families into the borderlands rather than intermarry with the Leviathans."
"But why reject the society which just freed you?"
"Why, indeed," Abaddon said. He turned to Lieutenant-Captain Shzzzkt. "Run a background check on that ship, and in the meantime, put them through so I can hear what they have to say."
Abaddon had still been a junior officer, working his way up the ranks when a deep space reconnaissance expedition had stumbled upon an FTL-drive signature and, in the process, discovered the Leviathan homeworld. Although he was old enough to remember a time when genetically engineered Merfolk, and not the naturally evolved Delphinium frog-men, had still been the fourth branch of the Alliance military, it still took his breath away when on his front viewing screen appeared an image of a full-blooded Merfolk matriarch.
"Supreme Commander-General Abaddon," the woman said. "I am Derketo, matriarch of the Sabawaelnu pod, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
Derketo was an older woman, nearly as old as he was by the discreet lines around her eyes and mouth. Her wet hair carried the trademark brilliant auburn which many Mer-Levi still carried in their gene pool, but by its uniformity and brightness, he guessed that color had been augmented from a bottle to color the grey. She wore a civilian wetsuit, but everything about her screamed she had, at one point, pulled a lengthy stint with the military.
Abaddon leaned forward, intrigued.
"And of what service can I be to our Mer-Levi brothers?" Abaddon asked.
A frown of contempt marred Derketo's otherwise breathtaking human features before she composed herself back into the unreadable expression all Alliance military personnel were taught. That, alone, gave Abaddon a clue that her military service had been Alliance-based and not with the expressive Mer-Levi Navy.
"I have information you need," Derketo said.
"You may brief me," Abaddon said.
Derketo gave him a stern look. "It is not that easy, general. We do not answer to you, so if you wish to know what we know, we shall need to open a dialogue."
Abaddon flared his hawk-grey wings.
"We are on a mission," Abaddon said, "and don't have time for colonist intrigues."
"Very well then," Derketo waved her hand. "You will just have to find the Light Emerging on your own."
The transmission cut off. Abaddon turned to Lieutenant-Captain Shzzzkt and snarled, "Why did you terminate the transmission?"
"It wasn't me, Sir," Shzzzkt said. “The termination came from their end.”
“Bah!” Abaddon shouted. “Get them back on the horn!"
It had been a while since he’d let his temper get the better of him, but the past few weeks had been trying and he wasn’t used to anybody daring to treat disrespectfully. Ever since Shay’tan had ambushed him, it seemed like everybody, from the lowliest cadet to Parliament itself felt they had leave to speak down to him as though he was an imbecile.
In the background, Lieutenant-Captain Shzzzkt spoke into the microphone. At last he announced, “the Mi'kmaq has answered our hail, Sir."
Abaddon opened his eyes. The separatist matriarch stared back at him, every bit as stern and unflinching as he was. He remembered her now. They’d both participated in a campaign to subdue Shemijaza’s Third Empire, back before Lucifer had even been born. If memory served him correctly, she had been granted a medal for valor.
“Was that really necessary?” Abaddon’s expression softened.
“You would not tolerate that tone of disrespect,” Derketo said. “Don’t expect that I will, either. We are not your Alliance minions. In my dominion, no matter how small that dominion might be, I am the matriarch, and my pod defers to me.”
“Touche,” Abaddon said. He swiveled around in his commander’s chair to face the holographic-projection table. “So … what do you have for me?”
“First I want to verify that the person you married is truly human,” Derketo said.
“You have my word for it,” Abaddon said.
“It is not your word I doubt, Sir,” Derketo said, “but Lucifer’s. Shemijaza spent his entire life trying
to retro-engineer a human ancestor. How do we know that what you have is real, and not merely a by-product of a mad scientist?”
“What proof do you wish to have?” Abaddon said.
“Your wife was quite articulate when she stood before Parliament and advocated for her people,” Derketo said. Her expression softened into one of suppressed eagerness. “I just wish to find out a little bit about her world. What are they like? How did they get there? Are they really the purest strain of humanity to exist since Nibiru was destroyed?”
“How do I know this is not a trap?”
“You don’t,” Derketo said. “But you served with me once, so you must remember how I lost my fin."
She turned to display where part of her fin had been sliced off her back and a replacement fin transplanted into its place, living tissue, but by no means a perfect match. Like him, this woman wore her battle scars like medals of honor. Yes. This woman had nearly been killed rescuing airmen from an Angelic Air Force battle cruiser which had been shot down over a colony’s ocean. She had saved dozens of men that day.
“We have no facility capable of hosting you in an aquatic environment,” Abaddon said. “You will need to come over in a wheelchair.”
“I wish for you to bring her here,” Derketo said, “to address my pod.”
"Out of the question," Abaddon said. "I will not put my wife and child at risk."
"You have an armada," Derketo said, "and we are just one ship. What harm will it do to bring your wife to meet us?"
"I just got my ass handed to me by Shay'tan," Abaddon growled. "I'm not about to make the same mistake a second time!"
"Very well, then," Derketo said. She moved her hand to signal whoever was in charge of broadcasting the transmission to cut it off.
"Wait!" Abaddon said. He leaned forward in his chair, studying the Merfolk matriarch. Amongst a species whose bloodline was matrilineal, they would not defer to him, but his wife.
"She means everything in the world to me," Abaddon said.
"You may send over an entire brigade to guard her if you like," Derketo said. "And encircle the Mi'kmaq with your armada. This ship contains my entire family. They wish to see her in the flesh, and until they do, the elders will not vote to aid you in your mission."
Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 95