by Helen Allan
“Well,” Megan shrugged, “part of our plan when searching the planets for you, was to also search for the other original Gods who opposed Amun - Osiris is confident that if he puts a call out to them and tells them Amun and Amaunet are dead they will join him to defeat Seth.”
“If any of them are still alive,” Sorrow murmured.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, all the Gods that were left on Avalona died of a disease, and I never saw a God on Heaven, apart from hearing about Osiris, and that was only recently, and Mum, Naunet is dead. You remember she was the one I was hopeful might give us some information on how to defeat Seth.”
“One less alien to destroy,” Ceda quipped, shrugging in the background.
“Ceda,” Sorrow frowned, “Naunet was one of the good guys – she opposed Amun, she helped Gaia escape Earth.”
“There are no good guys among these aliens, Sorrow,” Megan sighed, shaking her head at Ceda but nevertheless agreeing with him, “Naunet may not have shared Amun’s views, but she went along with his plans for thousands of years. The only one out of all of them who might have a tiny bit of goodness is Gaia, and she is long since gone. Don’t think for a second we really believe Osiris has humanity’s best interests at heart – we all know he only has his own interests – and they might not necessarily gel with ours in the long term.”
“Even then,” Clara piped up from the background, “she didn’t fight back, Gaia, she just hid on Earth, knowing she would be found one day, and this planet would be embroiled in their rubbish.”
Sorrow sighed. “Well, I hope she’s not dead too, or we are really on our own fighting Seth and his army – and I don’t like our chances.”
“Sorrow, we killed Amun and Amaunet,” Megan laughed, “these creatures underestimated humans, and you are underestimating us too if you think we need extra-terrestrial help to knock them off once and for all.”
Sorrow laughed gently.
“And we are not alone in wanting the Gods dead,” Ceda chuckled, “there are many, as our new unlikely ally has demonstrated, who have just as much cause to want them destroyed and off their planets as we do.”
“What ally?” Etienne and Sorrow asked together again, eliciting a chuckle from Etienne and causing him to receive another elbow in the side.
“Someone you know very well, apparently,” Megan said, giving Sorrow a stern look, “something else we will have a long talk about when we get the chance.”
She stepped aside as Sorrow heard the soft whoosh of the ship’s doors and someone else entered the control room and advanced from the side towards the screen.
As he stepped into view, Sorrow gasped.
“Khalili.”
“Plans change,” Khalili agreed when the two of them were alone on the intercom, Megan, Ceda and the Chortles having agreed to give them some time to talk, uninterrupted.
“Yes,” Sorrow mused. “But since the blast knocked you into the Earth portal, I imagine you planned to return to Heaven at the first opportunity anyway.”
“No,” he shook his head, “I planned to join forces with your mother. My son is dead; his murderer was supposedly dead, I thought I could do more here. Now though…you are certain he is still likely in the tank?”
“I am,” Sorrow bit her lip and concentrated, “he was missing a leg, that sort of regeneration can take the full 70 days. I have only been out of the tank three weeks.
“Then the fight continues on Heaven – I jump as soon as the portal opens and avenge my son.”
Sorrow nodded. “We both know what we have to do. You talk it through with Mum; I need to go and find Judge.”
“And your human?”
“Etienne,” Sorrow grimaced, “no, he can’t come. So, he can’t know. I’ll have to do this by subterfuge. It’s not fair to risk his life again, after such a close call here, I couldn’t bear it if I put him in more danger. I want him to go back to Earth. Make sure Mum and the other Chortles know not to spill the beans about our plans; she will understand.”
Khalili nodded.
“And Khalili,” she caught him just before he pressed the disconnect button, “Han is tough, resilient and resourceful, I’m sure he is alive.”
“If he is, I will find him,” Khalili nodded, “but not before I have destroyed Anhur.”
“We,” Sorrow corrected him firmly, “we are going to kill Anhur. I have just as much reason to hate him as you do.”
Khalili nodded.
“Which reminds me, I need a little more information before you sign off. Tell me everything Osiris said when he spoke to Mum and the rest of the Chortles, I could tell there was something she wasn’t keen for me to know.”
Khalili began, his words halting as he tried to remember all that he had heard.
“Amun had generated a rebellion against Osiris for centuries. Apparently, Anhur was in regular contact with Amun and followed his orders. It never degenerated into open warfare, but any progressive decision making in relation to Heaven was thwarted time and again in the Earthborn parliament. Anhur has for many centuries harboured designs to lead the planet, but it wasn’t until Amun’s death that he felt he could openly challenge Osiris. Anhur believes Amun selected him as the new leader of Heaven and the future of their race,” he paused to frown and consider his next words.
“Anhur is three-quarters God, and you are half God. When Anhur realised you really had carried his child, he began to assert that Amun sent you to him for a purpose, that he is the future of the Gods’ race. A child or children from your marriage would mean the Gods were closer than they had ever been to rediscovering their reproductive power. He needs you, your eggs, your blood. He needs to know how it is that of the hundreds of Earthborn, Human and others he has bedded, you were the only one to conceive. He believes Amun selected you specifically for him, for this purpose and that he is, therefore, the Anointed One.”
“He will not have my body,” Sorrow said, staring into the distance behind Khalili at the ship’s walls of buttons and dials.
“No.”
“And we will avenge your son.”
“Yes.”
Sorrow focussed back on Khalili and met his fierce gaze. She nodded as he pressed the disconnect button, but she did not leave the pod immediately. Instead, she sat, staring at the black screen for some time before turning away. She knew she had no choice. She could either strike now or continue to live in fear of a threat that would follow her from planet to planet, year after year; or worse, catch her and force her to have his child. And then there was Han and Jess, and their baby, the future of Heaven, destroyed by one crazed alien. It was her duty to go back, to destroy her husband.
16
Sorrow sighed and shook her head. The portal was due to open in an hour or so, and the whole planet was on red alert.
The fleet of pods was on stand-by should Judgment’s plan fail, and the Gharial invade. Avalona’s final solution to the threat had also been arranged.
Lokan would fly a pod directly into the portal, just as John had done on Heaven, and blow up the gate. If the Gharial didn’t come through, he would wait until Sorrow had entered the gate, and then blow it. The decision to commit suicide had been his own. They all knew there was no other way of destroying the gate, the pods were sentient, just like the mother ships, they would not knowingly blow themselves up on autopilot – but they could be flown to a fatal end. When he offered to do it himself, Sorrow had not hesitated to accept.
Now, thinking back over that conversation with Lokan, she knew no remorse. He had proven, once again, that her ancestors were ruthless, and consolidated her view that the universe would be a better place without them. The discussion about the portal had followed his revelation that Sorrow was correct in assuming many of the Chosen, including Calarnise, were his descendants. Only, Calarnise was closer to him than she could have imagined.
“Of course, I fathered her,” he had said pointing to the acolyte as she clung to Etienne’s arm, “and yes,” he
shrugged indifferently, “she would be the mother of my next acolyte.”
Calarnise had gasped and paled, her hand flying to her mouth upon hearing his words.
“You mean I’m your daughter, your granddaughter, your great granddaughter? Every acolyte is your child and wife?”
“You are blessed, daughter,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the horror and disgust felt in the room. “You would have bedded me when you turned 30 and given birth to the next acolyte, who would have served me from the age of 15. In her turn, when she reached 30, she would bed me, and birth me a new acolyte. Why do you shrink so? Do you not love me?”
“Why not simply regenerate one, you sick fuck?” Sorrow spat.
“The wings of course,” he sneered, “I cut them out when they are born, but were I to regenerate them, they would grow back.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Etienne said as he strode over to the God and punched him in the mouth, causing a furore to erupt in the room as the God struck back. Raphael egged Etienne on, Sorrow tried to break up the fight, and Calarnise screamed and screamed and screamed.
Finally, separating Etienne and Lokan, Sorrow stood in the middle of the room, panting from the exertion of the struggle and the sheer drama, her arms outstretched, and whistled a high, ear-piercing whistle that stilled them all.
“Stop, just stop,” she growled into the silence, “Lokan you need to address the Chosen. A message direct from God is needed if we are to save them as a species. They insist they don’t need the Winged to cure them, that they are a sacred, chosen people and they will leave, wander the wilderness, rather than learn to live with the Winged. You must see, they won’t last more than a few generations if you don’t intervene.”
He stood, silent, wiping the blood from his lip on a handkerchief and shook his head.
“They are as Chosen as we were deluded that we, Gods, should rule the universe. My time here is at an end. I will address them, but that will be my last act on this planet.”
“Are you planning on leaving us?” Calarnise asked, her voice choked.
“No, I’m planning on leaving this life,” he said calmly.
“Good,” Raphael said quietly.
Sorrow shook her head.
“Lokan, if this is something you truly mean to do, then there is a way that your final act can help right some of the wrongs you have done to these people and this planet.”
Hearing her plan for the portal, he had nodded and turned to leave.
“Just tell me when,” he said dully, “I don’t want to exist any longer than I have to.”
Now, several weeks on, they would find out if he was true to his word.
Feeling a shimmer in the air behind her, Sorrow straightened up; she knew it wouldn’t be long until the portal opened. She was ready to jump, dressed in full battle gear, weapons poised. She had said her goodbyes the night before, but still even now, as the time to jump approached, Etienne argued.
“Lolotte,” he sighed.
Sorrow smirked, he was clearly trying a new angle. All month he had been trying to talk her out of her plan to join Khalili on Heaven and kill Anhur. They both knew the risks. The last time she jumped something went wrong, and she landed ten years into the planet’s future. There was no guarantee the window she sought this time would be where she landed. She planned to land while Anhur was still in the regeneration tank, sneak into the city, kill him, and get back to the portal and back to Avalona ready for her next jump, to the Gharial planet. Raphael was coming with her to Heaven as her personal pilot – there was no guarantee Khalili, leaving through the Earth portal, would land in the same year as her, or that any of them would return alive. But if they did, she would then follow Judge to the Gharial planet, Galapo, and take the fight to them – which also drove Etienne crazy. But what really sent him into a tailspin was the fact she didn’t want him going with her to either planet.
“Surely,” he said, coming close to her now and whispering into her ear, “you understand I promised your mother I would protect you on your travels. I keep my promises.”
“Yes, and I promised you a great time on Heaven. We can’t always deliver what we intend, Etienne – and I don’t need protection, I’m a big girl.”
“But have you not grown fond of my company? I have left you in no doubt that I care for you. Surely,” he lowered his voice and thick eyelashes seductively, “my charm is something you would not like to be without?”
Sorrow smiled, kissed him on the cheek and looked into his eyes. Using her best damsel in distress voice, she threw her arm to her forehead in mock surrender.
“Oh, I’ve been blind. How could I not see? You, it is only you, Etienne. Take me, French man, take me.”
Etienne rolled his eyes and shook his head, before scooping her up into his arms and playing along.
“Very well, I knew it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to my allure. To the bedroom, mon sucre d’orge.”
Sorrow began to giggle and squirmed to be put down.
“Hmm, am I interrupting something here?” Raphael asked, smiling as he approached.
“Not at all,” Sorrow unwrapped herself from Etienne’s neck and smirked, “Etienne was just showing me how his irresistible French charm works to disarm even the most hardened of hearts.”
“Oh yes,” Raphael raised his eyebrow, “Well,” he stalked closer to Etienne and leaned his head down on his shoulder, looking up to him and batting his eyelashes, “I have to admit, I too have found myself drawn to his tantalizing charisma, his magnetism is… indefinable.”
Sorrow burst out laughing as Etienne snorted and pulled away, throwing his nose into the air and sniffing in disgust.
“Am I ever to be mocked, pilloried, mon Dieu, is such to be borne,” he was still muttering as he stalked away, Sorrow’s laughter billowing after him like a warm wind at his back.
“See you when I return, mon amour,” she called to his retreating back. He kept walking, but she knew, all jokes aside, she would still have some convincing to do before she left alone with Judge. She would miss him terribly too if, she reminded herself, she survived this trip to Heaven.
She was glad though, that if anything went wrong and Khalili didn’t make it in time, she had Raphael to fly her around on Heaven and act as her back-up. He had determined to come early in the discussions, saying he was keen to find out what the other planets looked like, now that the portals were allowed to be used.
“And,” he had whispered conspiratorially, “my contacts tell me that by next year the Angels would have gathered enough force and support to ensure all the portals are closed forever.”
“You mean they are going to blow them all up? So, no one can ever come or leave through the gates again?”
“Yes,” he nodded, “and that is a popular decision among many on this planet, Winged and Angel. In which case I, for one, do not plan to be trapped here. I want to spread my wings, so to speak, and explore this galaxy.”
Sorrow had nodded and agreed he could come with her to Heaven, but not beyond, and now, here they were, about to jump.
“Are you ready, Raphael?”
“As ever,” he said, his eyes, for once serious, “but I do wonder how it is that one with such a heart of rock engenders such devotion,” he turned as he spoke, watching Etienne walk away.
“Heart of rock?” Sorrow shook her head, “what makes you say that? The fact that I haven’t slept with you?”
“Of course,” he chuckled.
“I tell you what,” she smirked, “if we get out of this little trip alive, you can take me on that joy flight you’ve been promising ever since we met.”
“Really?” he drawled, “now that is certainly an incentive to live if ever I needed one.”
They both started laughing as Judge stalked up to stand near them, staring at the air where the portals would soon materialise. Dressed in his red suit, he looked to Sorrow more alien and indefinably ‘separate’ than he ever had. Their last conversation had helpe
d her understand him more and solidified her belief that she could trust him, despite what had transpired, but she knew she and he would never be lovers again – a betrayal so deep was not something she could or would forgive.
“Ready?” she smiled at him.
“Yes.”
“And you will find a way to meet me at the gate when I jump through on day six, one day before the portal closes.”
“I won’t forget,” he said, his voice deep, turning to meet her eyes, “anything.”
Sorrow blushed. “You know, I never got around to asking you, the scars…” she left her question hanging.
“My second heart was cut out when I was 20 years old,” he said, frowning in remembrance, “it is a right of passage for us when we gain our first squadron and proves our devotion to our cause.”
Raphael made a choking sound and Sorrow frowned.
“How could this possibly prove devotion?”
“The heart is used to bring to life one of the Findaile, a warrior creature ridden by the Gharial Red Leaders on Galapo.”
“Oh my God,” Sorrow breathed out hard, “one of the twins’ little experiments?”
“We are bonded to the creature; we can hear its thoughts, it ours, we share a heart and a mind, although I’m not sure how the latter occurs.”
“Why didn’t I see any of these on Heaven?” Sorrow whispered urgently, “could they be coming here?”
“They are left during any Gharial Red Leader’s first mission, to ensure we return, and to ensure we succeed in our battle. If we return victorious, they attend every subsequent mission with us. If we do not, they are tortured to death. We feel their pain across the worlds.”
“Oh.”
“Is yours dead then?” Raphael asked, voicing Sorrow’s fears.
“No,” he shook his head, “I have felt nothing. I do not understand why, but my Findaile lives yet.”
“Perhaps he will be waiting for you when you get home?” Sorrow said hopefully.
“Perhaps,” he said quietly, but Sorrow knew there was more behind his word than he was revealing. She was going to question him further, when behind them the portal shimmered into life.