by Larkin, Matt
With a muttered curse, she pulled a handful of kesitahs from her jacket. “Here. You should know, a guy down here is probably looking to get even with me.”
Knight caught her eyes for a moment. “For what?”
“Kneeing him in the groin and refusing his drugs.”
Now he looked right at her. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
Rachel grinned. “I brought you along for a reason.”
“Yeah, because you’ve apparently managed to rile up half the human race. So what was it, Mammon?”
Oh God, please don’t let Knight be a user. The last thing she needed was an addict bodyguard going off rotation. Further off rotation. “Yes…”
“Does he know who you are?”
Rachel shook her head. “No. He just called me long hair.”
Knight rose, motioning her to stay put. He went back out into the bazaar, and a few moments later returned with a head scarf. He tossed it to her. Plain brown, and hardly fashionable, but she’d seen others on this planet wearing the same.
“Better if you cut your hair, too,” he said.
“How about you cut yours?” She stood and wrapped the scarf around her head.
Knight turned and slipped out of the restaurant, and Rachel followed. He paused at a few merchant stalls, whispering questions she didn’t quite catch, and handing out her kesitahs like they were free.
The man thought she was made of money.
Eventually, Knight led her down the stairs to the next sub-level, where he continued handing out her money. After the third time, Rachel was about to complain when he pulled her down one of the side halls. He stopped at an unmarked door and knocked twice. A moment later the door slid open, and Knight stepped inside.
Rachel followed. The room was dark, but she could see two big men, each with long knives. Beyond, sitting at a table with the room’s only light, a woman watched it all with little apparent interest.
“Ariel?” Rachel asked.
The woman shrugged.
Shit, what was that server’s name? “Judy sent me. I need to buy some information. I hear you’re the place to go.”
“Depends what you want to know and how much you can pay.”
Rachel glanced again at the two men still brandishing knives. Knight was beside her, but he made no move to look threatening. Of course, if he did act, it would probably mean murder.
“I’ve got plenty of kesitahs. I can even have Mizraim credits transferred to an account of your choice. The question is, do you have anything worth it?”
Ariel beckoned her closer, and the two bodyguards stepped aside. Rachel sat across the table from Ariel. She wished Knight stood close enough to see, but looking over her shoulder would make her seem vulnerable. She had to come at these negotiations from a position of strength, or a woman like this would walk away with a planet before Rachel knew it.
Rachel folded her hands. “You know the Sefer Raziel?”
Ariel nodded. “Supposedly the Angel Raziel recorded the secrets of his people in a book, a bequeathal to mankind that was lost in the Vanishing.”
“I’m going to find it.”
“You and millions of others.”
Rachel leaned forward. Ariel was holding back. She felt it dripping off the woman. “Tell me what you know.”
“Thirty thousand kesitahs.” Ariel’s smile was smug, but compared to Knight’s fee that was spare change. If she had any idea what Rachel had paid her bodyguard, she’d probably have asked for five times that sum.
Rachel unstrapped her belt and pulled out kesitah chips she’d imprinted with five thousand each. She placed them on the table in front of Ariel, who pressed her thumb onto one, then nodded.
“Word is, an off-world organization has come here searching for it, too. Recently. They call themselves the Lazarus Group. They’ve been on this planet for the last two years, and have been traveling all over, asking questions from people like me.”
“Did you help them, too?”
“You’re not paying me for that information.”
Of course not. “Where can I find them?”
“You’re not paying me for that, either.”
Rachel rose, hands pressed on the table. “I’m paying you to tell me all you know about the Sefer!”
At her outburst, the two bodyguards raised their knives. Rachel was suddenly aware of the twenty-centimeter long blades, dangerously close to her back. She turned, slowly, looking over her shoulder. One of the men grinned. Beyond him, Knight’s hands drifted to his thighs. He had a half dozen throwing knives strapped horizontally to the outside of each leg.
With a slight shake of her head, she called him off. His hands didn’t relax, but his eyes spoke his understanding. Rachel turned back to Ariel. “Excuse me. I believe we had an arrangement, and it’s in both of our interests that you help me.” She tossed one more kesitah on the table.
Ariel took it, pressed it, and then pocketed it. “All I know about the Lazarus Group is they have a base somewhere on this planet, probably not in this city, and they’re interested in the old Angel eugenics projects.”
The eugenics projects? The Angels had created subspecies of humanity, even Psychs, but for humans to meddle with the bloodlines was a violation of the First Commandment. Which meant these people were willing to ignore doctrine for their agenda, just like her. The question was, did they share her agenda, or have their own?
Rachel would be the first to admit Angel law against eugenics and genetic engineering may have stifled human potential. It didn’t mean these people would be up to no good. God only knew what hell could break loose if Sentinels learned what was going on—or Redeemers.
“And that’s it?” Rachel said.
“That’s it.”
“Then I’m leaving.”
“Good idea.”
Rachel backed away, gingerly stepping between the bodyguards. Knight followed her out into the hall, and she pulled the head scarf around her tighter.
“I definitely need to buy some armor while we’re here,” she said. Those knives were almost the size of swords.
“Wouldn’t have helped much against those,” Knight said. “Monofilament edged. They’d cut through even nanomesh.”
Rachel shuddered and headed for the stairs. She’d seen enough of the Babel Bazaar for one night. Perhaps for one lifetime. Knight followed, and soon they reached the airlock.
She pressed on her breather and pushed the buzzer.
“What now?” Knight said. “We can’t find this Lazarus Group without more information.”
True. They’re on the planet wasn’t exactly much to go on. But the name of the group might be. There were people who had access to vast amounts of information not available to civilians. Part of her was afraid to ask, of course. But, then, it was for the good of humanity. And she’d keep telling herself that was the only reason to call him.
The airlock buzzed open.
“I know someone who might be able to help.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Though we might flee to the farthest reaches of the universe, we cannot escape ourselves. Mac was more than three million light years away from me, and still I turned to him. He had walked out on me—or maybe I’d left him. Funny, I was no longer sure. And still, I could think of no one I’d trust more.
The Milky Way Galaxy was so deep in Mizraim territory the crew of the Logos took their assignment as a vacation. Indeed, chasing Mammon smugglers from one end of the galaxy to the other didn’t present much of a challenge, which gave him time to think. Which may not have been what he most needed.
Leah snorted at some joke she’d made, and David smiled, pretending to share her merriment. A few months ago she’d made Chief Medical Officer on the Logos, the first time he’d seen the Amphie since Sentinel Academy on Hazaroth. Strong as his psionic gifts were, he wasn’t much of an empath, certainly not a telepath, so he’d probably never figure out what the lass had been saying—best to just smile and nod.
�
�Really, David,” she said, “are you even listening? You’re usually a bit more… verbose.”
He shook his head. Leah was always a bit too perceptive, and he’d tuned out not only the rest of the mess hall, but his meal companion for the day. “Sorry, lass. Just wondering why we’re not on the border. Who knows what Asherah is up to?” He smiled, to take the edge off the words, and Leah returned it, even if reluctantly.
“You know that incident was a long time ago.” She spread her webbed fingers, then must have seen him look at them, because she placed them under the table. Leah had silky black hair and dark wheatish skin—an attractive woman—but she always seemed a bit shy about being an Amphie. “Why do you take your meals here, anyway?”
As senior officers they could eat in the officer’s lounge, in private. But David always ate with the crew. He may have been second-in-command on a Sentinel warship, but he’d been one of the lower officers, too. Every Sentinel on this ship, every Sentinel in the force, was a credit to the uniform. They were the finest fighting force in the history of mankind. And he had no reason to limit himself to the upper echelons of the crew.
“I like to be seen.”
“A power play against the captain?”
David glowered. “Of course not. Don’t even say something like that. Captain Waller is a mentor to us all, he’s a hero, he’s—”
“Cold?”
David waved her comment away. Such things were best not said at all, certainly not in a public mess hall where someone could overhear.
She shrugged. It looked like she was about to say something else, but a crewman interrupted. “Commander McGregor? There’s a call for you.”
David wiped his mouth and scrubbed his stubbly beard. “All right, I’ll take it in my quarters.” He rose and nodded at Leah, who watched him with an unreadable expression.
The Logos was a big ship, over a kilometer long, so it took him a few minutes to cross back to his quarters. Sleek, black metal formed the halls, but the lights evenly spaced in the corners kept it from feeling too oppressive. David took the lift down to the officer’s quarters and stepped inside his room.
The lights came on the moment he did, illuminating his room in a warm blue glow. “Mazzaroth personal access,” he said. “David McGregor, code Duress 92G.” The screen on his wall flashed to life, blinking with an incoming call.
Rachel Jordan, it said.
David blew out a long breath and shut his eyes. It had been a while, over a year. They’d hardly spoken since she lost her job in New Rome. How had he let so much time pass? But it was her fault, too. She could have reached him any time. She was the one who always… no. He wasn’t going to start a conversation like that.
He sat down at the table against the opposite wall. “Receive call.”
Rachel’s face lit up the screen. She was in a bland room somewhere, and her clothes looked worn. Her brown hair fell down over her green jacket. Like so much of the rest of mankind, Rachel’s ancestry was too mixed to determine, but she had a deep skin tone that always made him want to run his thumb over it.
“Mac…” she said.
“Hey, lass. What can I do for you?”
Rachel glanced at something else in the room. Or someone else. Was she with someone? Did she have a new boyfriend? No. She’d never call him like that, not with a new man standing right there. “I heard you made Commander. Congratulations.”
“Aye, thanks.” Maybe she called just to catch up. Maybe now was the chance. “Are you still in Andromeda?”
Rachel shook her head. “The Pegasus Dwarf. Gehenna.”
David grunted, not wanting to admit he’d never heard of it. Most of Pegasus was part of Mizraim, but he’d only served there a few times. There were probably half a million inhabited worlds in the Empire, he could hardly remember them all.
“It’s a shame. I’d have liked to have seen you. I could take some leave, maybe, meet you back home in a few months, if you like.”
He may have been born on Calneh, but New Rome would always be home to the two of them.
Rachel nodded a bit, but it hardly seemed genuine. “Mac… I need to call in a favor.”
“I wasn’t aware I owed you any favors, lass,” David said, trying to feign a smile. This was not a good direction for the conversation to head. Rachel had this habit of getting into things that were best left alone.
Rachel brushed her hair back from her ear in that infuriatingly enticing way she had. Did she know what her thoughtless gesture did to him? Probably. She was an empath. “Mac… David. I really need information about the Lazarus Group. As much as you can find. Have you heard of them?”
David scratched his head. “Aye, in passing. What are you up to? Those people are khapiru, probably dangerous, Rachel. You should stay away from them.”
“I can’t. Look, can you just find the information for me? Your Sentinel access should get you—”
“You’re asking me to abuse that access.” David rose and folded his arms. “That’s not a small request.”
“Well, I’m not a small friend.”
“Aye, you’re not, but you’re a civilian asking for military intel.” He frowned at her. “And don’t think I’m gonna go bending the rules for you without knowing what you’re up to.”
“Some friend,” a man’s voice said in the background. Damn. She did have another man there. Who the bloody void was it?
Rachel shot a glare at whoever had spoken off-screen, then turned back to him. “Mac, I think they may know where to find the Sefer Raziel.”
David threw up his hands. “Are you bloody kidding me, Rachel? The book is a myth, and a blasphemous one at that. Aren’t you in enough trouble already for playing with the rules?”
“It could change the face of the future!”
“Aye, if it exists. But even if it does, that doesn’t mean the change will be good. Angels gave us what we need, and we’ve no business trying to steal their secrets. Angels above, Rachel, listen to the rules the Shekhinah makes, please.”
She had started pacing. Not a good sign. “What right does that thing have to make rules for us?”
“The Angels left the Shekhinah in charge in their absence.”
“Why should we care what they wanted?”
“Watch your mouth, lass.” David pointed at her now. “What do you think would happen to you if someone heard this kind of talk? Less than that got you fired from the finest college in the Empire. You want the Redeemers after you, too?”
“I… They already are.”
“Bloody hell, Rachel! Get off that planet and stop this. You think all your philosophy has any place outside the classroom? It didn’t even have a place in your class. People are going to die over this shite! Now listen, I’m gonna tell you what to do, and you’re gonna do it. You’re gonna get on the first transport off—”
“Mazzaroth off.”
The screen went blank.
She’d hung up on him.
David clenched his fist, then slammed it onto the table. “What the bloody void, Rachel!” he shouted at the screen.
A tremble ran through his chest, and he had to sit down, head in his hands. She was going to get herself killed. God, it was like she thought the rules of society were just suggestions. Just because she didn’t believe in the rules, didn’t mean she was excused from them. Why couldn’t she grasp that? If you wanted to reap the benefits of society, you had to pay its price, too.
And Rachel was about to pay the price for her actions.
CHAPTER NINE
There are moments in which the course of history is set. Moments in which a single choice can change the lives of billions. And most of the time, we do not see it until the moment is long past.
Night—such as it was in space—had come and gone, and David hadn’t slept. He’d remained in the chair, his feet kicked up on his table. In a few hours, he’d have to report to the bridge.
They had caught the smugglers an hour ago. The fools had tried to fire on the Logos. The ba
ttle was over in less than two seconds. The Logos was Tribulation class, a warship. The smugglers had to be completely off rotation to try to fight or flee from a ship like this. Mammon smugglers might do hard time, maybe even be banished to a barren world like Horesh, but they had the chance to live. It wasn’t a death crime.
And they’d opened fire on a ship that could pulverize a small planet in a matter of minutes. He’d never understand the criminal mind.
Or Rachel’s, for that matter. She’d thrown away a promising career. Her psionics were good enough she could pilot the Conduit, so even after she’d lost her teaching job, she could have found employment with any corp she wanted. Even the Sentinels might have accepted her application. No surprise she’d refused his request to join.
He sighed. God help him. Somehow the lass had come back into his life and managed to upset his rhythm with a single call. A person had to have his center.
And she always threw off his.
David rose and walked to his dresser, picking up the Codex with both hands and setting it gingerly on the table. The first book, the Covenant, he knew by heart, as did most citizens of Mizraim.
He read the familiar lines, speaking them like a mantra. “The sins of man brought the Adversary to Eden.” Man had reached beyond its home planet, to the very edges of its solar system, and in three fateful days the Adversary had destroyed every outpost, every station, and at last Eden itself. A beautiful blue and green world was turned toxic and barren, and mankind stood on the brink of extinction.
“On the third day, God pitied man, and sent the Angels.” Seven billion humans were dead, but the Angels drove the Adversary back. When the dust cleared, Eden was a wasteland.
“And thus the Angels brought humanity to the Exodus, out of Eden and into the beyond.” Mankind was spread throughout the Local Group and given three Commandments. The last of which, “Man shall populate the universe,” had allowed humankind to recover its numbers in record time.