by Larkin, Matt
Once, every answer had come from the Codex. Now David couldn’t bring himself to pick it up, instead pouring through file after file on the Mazzaroth. Once you started digging, the Sentinels actually had a decent amount of intel on Gehenna. It wasn’t all organized, though. David had run a search on Gehenna and the Pegasus Dwarf Galaxy, and had turned up a lot of interesting little details.
Like that Jericho Corp had apparently been funneling money into the planet, through several back channels, for years. Millions of credits, in fact, upholding the government. Why would a megacorp care about maintaining the government of an independent world—a seemingly corrupt government at that?
The answer was obvious. It wouldn’t. David scratched his head, staring at the screen. The only explanation he could think of for all this was that Jericho was the power behind Gehenna. Which meant a member of the Conglomerate was running a former penal colony, a world with next to no natural resources and even less strategic value, and going to fair lengths to conceal its ownership.
Why would they want the place? Was it possible they knew about the Sefer Raziel?
There were too many unanswered questions, and David didn’t like that at all.
“Show me Jericho Corp,” he said to the Mazzaroth.
The screen displayed a corporate rundown. Like all megacorps, it had independent sovereignty, and really only answered to the rules of the collective Conglomerate. David scratched his head. In a hundred and fifty years the Conglomerate had become a force to rival Mizraim or Asherah. Since they represented so much of the economy of mankind, even a powerful nation was hesitant to stand before them.
And if a corp like Jericho got the Sefer, got the Ark, Angels only knew what they’d do. They might well have the power to overthrow all established order. The technological advantage would finally allow Jericho to win out over Quasar Industries, for certain. But it was unlikely the corp would stop there. He could almost see it in his mind, the governments of the universe slowly becoming subservient to corporate interests. Bowed down to the mercy of an economic juggernaut in possession of the finest technology ever created.
There were reams of data on the corp.
“Audio overview,” he said.
“Jericho Corp was formed in EY 2582,” the computer said. “They are primarily a developer of nanotechnology and other medical technologies. Jericho Corp has endured frequent competition from rival Quasar Industries for the advancement of technology, in particular over Jericho’s patented biomesh armor, considered by some a successor to Quasar’s nanomesh technology. In EY 3093 Jericho underwent massive restructuring following allegations against several board members involving violations of the First Commandment.”
“Pause,” David said. “Details of last item on the screen.”
Three years ago the Redeemers had accused the Jericho board of directors of experiments violating the First Commandment. Several members of the board had stepped down, and the Chairman, Othniel Keese, had vanished. And then all those allegations had dried up.
“What the bloody void does that mean?” David mumbled. The Redeemers were always accusing people of something, that was nothing new, and they’d never been overly fond of nanotech—claiming it skirted the ethical line, at least when used in humans. Had Jericho really been experimenting on something worse than that, or was it just a nanotech project that had gotten particularly under the Redeemers’ skin?
And with Keese gone—God knew where—everything got swept under the rug.
“But what does this have to do with Gehenna?”
As expected, the Mazzaroth offered no explanation.
There was more happening on this planet than they knew, which meant they were flying blind into a tricky situation. David left his quarters and headed down the hall. He buzzed the door to the captain’s quarters.
A moment later, they slid open. David found Waller reclining on a couch, listening to bombastic music. Something from his home world, maybe. Waller was from one of those small mining worlds no one had ever heard of, owned by Zebulun, if he remembered right. Anakim had their own unique sense of music.
“Pause playback,” the captain said, and sat up. “McGregor?”
David saluted. “I’ve been researching Gehenna.”
“Always wise.”
“I have strong reason to believe the planet may be owned, in secret, by Jericho Corp.”
Waller sighed, then rubbed his beard. “The game gets more interesting, then.”
“Sir, we don’t know what the situation is. We cannot afford to antagonize the Conglomerate.”
Waller waved it away. “No. We’re too close. If they own it in secret, then in public they cannot complain of our actions. We have perfect deniability for interfering in their affairs. How were we to know?”
“But we don’t know why they want the planet, or why they’re keeping it secret. I’ve traced a lot of the dealings back to one of their executives named—”
Waller held up a hand. “Deniability, McGregor. I don’t want to know. And neither do you.”
“Sir.”
“Drop the issue and focus on finding the Sefer.”
David stilled his jaw and saluted. “Sir. With all due respect, I must object.”
Waller just raised an eyebrow.
Rachel was there. Duty or not, how could he let her fall? He had to be there for her. “My friend, the one you identified earlier, is a citizen of Mizraim, of New Rome. She’s conducting a civilian expedition, possibly on corporate authority. We cannot just—”
“Your objection is noted, Commander.” Waller waved him away. “And overruled. Dismissed.”
He couldn’t argue with Waller’s reasoning, but it rang false, even duplicitous. To deliberately ignore the evidence—something on Gehenna was off. Jericho Corp wouldn’t care about a world like that unless they knew something he didn’t. And if they were after the Sefer too, if they knew about it, maybe it was Sentinel duty to keep it from them. But Rachel was caught between too many factions, and he seriously doubted she understood them all.
Leah stood outside his quarters, hands behind her back. When he approached, she bit her lip. “So…”
Shite. “Sorry, I completely forgot about dinner tonight.”
Her eyes nictitated, the inner third eyelid blinking. He’d never figured out whether that was a sign of irritation or just confusion. “You’re not eating anything?”
“I will. Did you?”
She shook her head. “I could bring something from the mess.”
“Aye, bring it to my quarters, then.”
Her eyes opened a bit wider, and she rocked back. Then she nodded and headed off. Probably shocked he wasn’t taking his meal with the crew. But some things shouldn’t be said in public, and he was too tired anyway.
He sat down at his table and paged through more data on Gehenna and Jericho until his door buzzed. “Open,” he said, without looking away from the screen.
“We’ve got rainbow fish from Rehobath,” Leah said.
David glanced at her. “Your homeworld?”
“Yeah, I ordered six cases from Manna Products on our last supply run. The ship’s cook cracked one open tonight. I might have requested it.” She carried two steaming boxes, each filled with spicy smelling fish and crisp vegetables. Leah set one in front of David, then sat down across from him. “Jericho?”
“Aye.” It was good she was here. Leah was the one person who always listened. Well, besides Rachel. “I think they’re the ones really running things on Gehenna. I suspect the government there are just puppets.”
“We have no jurisdiction over Conglomerate worlds.”
“Aye. But the captain says since they haven’t made their claim public, they can’t well object to our presence.”
She speared the fish with her fork and took a bite. “Fine line, but I guess he’s right.”
“That’s not the only issue, though. If they took the world, they did it for a purpose. I can’t believe they’re going to take it w
ell, if we just show up and start waving guns around.”
“I thought you liked waving your gun around?”
“It’s not funny, lass.” Well, aye, it was a bit funny, but he wasn’t going to show her that. “Half the universe is after this mystical Sefer that might be down there, and a person I care a lot for is between them and it.”
She nodded, slowly. “David, you’re a Sentinel. Your friend seems like she borders on being khapiru. You’re going to have to make a choice.”
Aye, and there was no choice. He was a Sentinel. But at the very least, he needed to tell Rachel about Jericho Corp.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
There were always rumors about a twelfth Race. A legend that the Angels had tried to create true successors to their own nature… but such things were impossible. Angels never did anything that could become a threat to themselves.
The apartment was oddly still without Knight around. Of course, he had often been gone for long stretches anyway, but back then, Rachel had been so focused on the Sefer she’d barely noticed. Now, even the thought of diving back in without fresh facts gave her a headache. God, if she could only get outside, get some space, see people.
But Knight was right. This place was too dangerous, especially with the government looking for her. He’d left her enough food for a few days, and that would have to do. So she sat on the couch, combing through news feeds, and watching the occasional vid, something she hadn’t done much in the last few years. A bit of mindless action, hot sex, and inane plot might be what she needed to come at this thing with a fresh viewpoint. And with Knight away, there was no one to catch her watching the guilty pleasures.
So why did she keep thinking about him? She was such a fool to sleep with him anyway. The man was a child, a selfish—and dangerous—brat. And she’d thought to make a connection with him? She must have gone off rotation.
And what if she’d driven him away with her moment of weakness? Did he want more from her? More than she could give? If so would he still be there for her?
They’d shared a single moment of passion, spurred by adrenaline and proximity. Pure reaction of the DNA. Nothing more. The truth was, she’d only ever really connected with one person. And even David had never really understood her. She’d thought he had… he should have. But she’d poured her heart out to him, tried to explain why finding these relics mattered so much. Why she had to open humanity’s eyes to the reality of their saviors.
At least she thought she did. Did knowing the truth in her heart make it her duty?
If she’d just kept her mouth shut, taught the classes she was supposed to teach, she might still be at NRU. Probably bouncing a baby or two on her knee by now. Her chest trembled and she wrapped her arms around herself. If she shut her eyes, she could almost see the infants.
Mac had said he could, in the Conduit. He could see their son—a son who could have been. Mac was a rank four Psych. He might have seen the real future, a future that could have been. She could have been a mother, could have given him the babies he wanted so badly from her. And had pride stopped her? Had her conviction that mankind was not bound to the Third Commandment kept her from something she should have wanted anyway?
God, had the Angels only ordered people to do what they wanted to do begin with? Populate the universe. Go forth and have so many babies mankind can never be threatened with extinction again. But the threat was long gone. No one even knew how many people populated the holy universe these days. Void, there were eleven distinct subspecies of mankind.
For centuries humans had bred as often as they could. Some remained monogamous, some still married, but many made it their mission to simply have as many children as possible, often with different partners every time. But David had wanted marriage.
The screen flashed with an incoming call. Mac. As if he’d felt her thinking of him. A flight of fancy, of course. No Psych could feel that from across galaxies.
She forced the tremor in her chest to abate and sat up straight, trying to crack a smile. “Receive.”
The vid paused and David’s face filled the screen. “Rach. Something you need to know. I’ve been doing some digging, and it looks like the Gehennan government might really be a front for a megacorp.”
Rachel almost jumped to her feet. What in the holy universe? If that was true she really was in deeper shit than she knew. “Which one?”
“Jericho Corp. Seems like an executive named Caleb Gavet is running the project, but I can’t be sure. You really should clear out of there, lass.”
“I can’t, David. I’m too close.”
“Other people know what you’re doing now.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You told someone?” She’d trusted him and he’d betrayed that trust?
“I didn’t have a choice, Rach. There are things you don’t—”
“End call!” The screen flickered off, returning to her vid, still paused. God damn him. A minute ago she was thinking of having his babies! And he’d betrayed her?
As if things weren’t bad enough without him turning on her. And now Jericho was after her, maybe even Mizraim. Did Galizur know about Jericho? The man always knew more than he said, didn’t he? Had the bastard let her walk in here, knowing the danger?
Quasar Industries had been engaged in a game of one-upmanship with Jericho Corp for centuries. The two purveyors of the most advanced technology in the known universe. What would they do to gain access to the Ark? The answer was obvious. Anything. Galizur would probably feed her to the Adversary itself if he thought it would get him the Ark. And Jericho cared about her even less. If they got the Ark… Angels, they’d bring the whole universe to its knees, without anyone even seeing it happen.
“Son of a bitch.” And now she was the one who was going to pay for all this. Without Galizur’s backing, she was truly screwed. She now owed Knight more than she could cover, and he was the last person she wanted turning against her. Whatever had happened between them, maybe she could fix it. She was going to need Knight, and somewhere, deep down, maybe he needed her, too. There was something deeply broken within him, her empathy told her that much. And Rachel was no counselor, but she’d help him if she could.
The screen flashed with another incoming call. She shook her head. “Not this time, Mac.”
But when she saw the screen, the name read Jeremiah Jordan.
A long breath escaped her and she fell back onto the couch. This day just kept getting better and better. If there was one person in the universe she did not want to talk to, it was her brother. But he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of contacting her—they hadn’t spoken in years—unless it was damn important. She could ignore him, but then she’d always wonder…
No matter. She’d already hung up on one ass today, she could hang up on another if she had to.
“Mazzaroth, constrain camera on me.” No reason to let him see any more of her surroundings than she had to. Best if Jeremiah knew as little about where she was as possible. “Receive call.”
Her brother’s face filled the screen. His eyes looked a bit older, his spiked hair a bit longer, and he’d put on more muscle. Not that he’d been scrawny to begin with. He wore the Redeemer insignia, the man on bent knee, proudly on his breast.
His eyes judged her, as always.
“What do you want?” she said.
“It’s time for you to come home, sister. Father is worried about you.”
Sure he was. Angry, disappointed, ashamed. But worried. No. She didn’t think so. “Jeremiah, I don’t have time for this.”
“Yes. You’re very busy with your heresies and murders. Seven people are dead, Rach. Good men, servants of the Angels, dead because of you.”
A lot more than seven, unfortunately, but he didn’t need to know that. “No one forced them to come after me.”
“You forced them to, with your own actions.”
Right, round and round they went. “Who says my actions are wrong?”
He snorted. “The Codex, of
course.”
She resisted the urge to rise and pace. “And who says the Codex is right about these things?”
“It’s the word of the Angels, given to them by God himself.”
She nodded. “And how do you know that?”
“Because they told us!”
“You don’t see anything worth questioning about that logic, Miah?”
Her brother shook his head. “No. It’s called faith. You’re family, Rach. Please, I’m giving you the chance to turn yourself in. I don’t want anything to happen to you, but I can’t protect you much longer. Come home.”
To be indoctrinated, to have all she was stripped away. “Thanks, but I don’t care to have my sins washed away at the price of the rest of my mind.”
“Surrender and I can make sure it doesn’t come to that. You’re my sister. You know how important Father is. We can help you, Rach. But you have to stop all this and come home.”
“No!” She was done playing by their rules. She’d made her own life, and she was going to live it. It was the only choice left to her. God, how she’d wanted him to believe in her back then. She’d begged him, pled with him to listen, but he heard nothing but the voice of their father. And some days, she almost heard it too—a gnawing doubt urging her to give in, to return. Because the universe was vast beyond measure and without family…
No. Jeremiah and her father deluded themselves, and she had to enlighten them. “If you send another Heart after me, you might just lose that one too. Cut your losses, bro.”
His skin flushed. “Do you even know who you’ve got protecting you? Oh, yeah, we know about him, sis. Ever ask yourself why he’s so prone to kill, so terribly adept at it? Maybe you should!” She could just imagine bits of spittle flying out of his mouth, the way they did when he raged.
But how did he know about Knight? Word must have gotten back to the Redeemers after that fight in the bar. “What the void are you even talking about?”