by Larkin, Matt
Just as well. Knight didn’t want to hear it. He slashed again, ending the poor bastard.
A flick of his wrist flung the blood from his blade.
So Sarah knew he was involved. He growled through his teeth, then took in the lab. Damn Rachel for this. If Sarah had any doubt he was involved before, she wouldn’t now.
He snatched every data tablet he could find. Maybe the government was still using this lab for research, maybe they weren’t. Either way, he couldn’t afford to be here.
Whatever brief respite he may have enjoyed from Sarah’s attentions, that was ended now, he had no doubt. Before, maybe she was content to leave him be, considering him more trouble to terminate than he was worth. Until he had to go and fuck with her plans, whatever she was doing.
If Sarah was after the Sefer Raziel, she’d probably be the one to wind up with it. She wasn’t the kind to give up. Sarah would hunt them, track them, and sooner or later, she’d find them. Unless he could get Rachel off this planet damn quickly. And Rachel would wind up just like Shirin.
This was why he couldn’t let himself get too close.
The tablets stowed in his coat, Knight ran from the lab and out into the bunker. He dashed up the stairs, taking down three more government soldiers on his way. His former employer was not going to be happy. She’d send more than one of his brethren next time, and even Knight could only face so many Gibborim at once.
He charged out of the bunker and into the street, not bothering to hide. Instead, he made a mad dash for his hoverbike. He had to get back to Rachel.
God, if they were waiting for him here, they could be after her. There was no time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
October 4th, 3096 EY
My father became a Redeemer after the Balthazar Incident. People blamed the Asherans for the loss of the Sentinel ship and crew. They claimed cyborgs had violated the Commandments, had turned their backs on God. And Father decided all such khapiru must be punished. My brother followed in his footsteps when I was fifteen. Sometimes, I think that’s when I truly lost him. And sometimes, I know I lost him the day Father joined the Redeemers.
Sad to think he saw Beeroth as home, but he’d had nothing else since he left the Gibborim. Hopefully not for much longer, though. Knight stowed the hoverbike, then ran for his apartment. Just get Rachel, and get off this planet. No more waiting, no more excuses.
Inside the building, he slowed his steps. Running attracted too much attention. He swiped his key card and stepped inside. Even a quick glance told him the place was empty.
Knight stepped back against the inside wall, scanning the room. The washroom door was open, so she wasn’t there. No one was. Had they already come for her? No sign of struggle. It meant she had to be safe. She had to.
The idiot girl had probably disobeyed and gone out. For God’s sake, if she was indulging her need to sample restaurants he’d feed her to the void.
He might be the only chance she had. So why the void couldn’t she just do as she was told?
There might be no coming back here. He hurried to the couch, shoved it aside, and pulled up the loose floor panel. He grabbed the bag of kesitahs. He’d imprinted several chips with all the money he’d earned as a mercenary. Still not enough to get him far, not without the rest of that money from Rachel. It was just the money. That’s all he needed. Damn her! Why did she have to put him in this position? Truth was, he couldn’t leave her to the Gibborim.
And there was nothing left in the place. Nothing to call his own. Once, he’d had everything he could have asked for, anything money could buy and then some. Hollow. It had been stripped away in an instant—his accounts frozen, all he had, taken. And none of it mattered. His time in Beeroth was just that—time spent toward an end. An escape from the chains of purgatory.
This place was a shell, as empty as he was. Except for… He brushed the dust away from the same hole he’d buried the money in. Underneath it all rested a pair of holo glasses, now cracked. Once, Shirin had used the model for portable Mazzaroth access. It had given her full holographic displays of any point she wanted to enter. Of course, it had done more than that. He gently probed the data rod. It had plugged into a cybernetic port in her temple.
Once, he’d allowed himself to get past the violation of the First Commandment. Once, he’d taken an Asheran cyborg into his heart. And now this was all that remained.
After tucking the glasses into his coat, he left the apartment, he hoped for the last time. He had to find the girl. He raced down to the Babel Bazaar. She liked that place. He stowed the bike, then hurried through the airlock.
He checked every restaurant in the bazaar, but no one had seen the girl.
Rage simmered beneath the surface, but Knight tried to keep his face a mask. She wasn’t here. God, if she was already caught… or she’d run off… He couldn’t let himself go there. She was his ticket out of this galaxy. That was all. To even dream of anything more, to allow himself to make the same mistake all over again—no!
But he had to find her.
He stopped in a weapon shop, briefly glancing at an assortment of knives. They knew him here. Not by name, of course, but the owner nodded at him. Knight pressed a kesitah chip into the man’s hand. “I need to use the Mazzaroth.”
The man checked the value, then nodded, indicating his office with a jerk of his head. Knight stepped into the back room and shut the door.
“Mazzaroth personal access, Ezekiel Knight, code Shinobi 1275-L.” The screen flickered on. “Contact Rachel Jordan.” Maybe, just maybe she was back in a hotel somewhere. He had to try. He placed his hands flat on the desk, trying not to fidget while the line buzzed. She wasn’t answering. Of course, she probably had no line. Maybe the Gibborim already had her.
A headache built in his temples. His mouth was dry. Damn that girl. He never should have taken this job, should have backed out the moment the government got involved. But Rachel was offering so much money. That was all. It was a chance to escape. That was the only reason he was still with her. The only reason.
“Connection failed.”
Knight slammed his palm on the table. “Holy universe, Rachel!” He was rapidly running out of options. If the Gibborim already had her, there was one person who could tell him. But no way in the void he could open that door. Once he opened it, there was no shutting it. And yet, he had no choice. He had to know if they had her.
“Contact Hadrian Graves.” His voice sounded dry. A call he’d never thought to make.
For a time, the line buzzed, and Knight thought maybe Hadrian wouldn’t take his call either. Then the man’s face lined the screen. His head was shaved, though thick stubble covered his face. He didn’t wear his helmet, but he had the uniform on, the Omega sign clear on his chest.
“Zeke.” Hadrian’s voice was low, raspy as ever. “You shouldn’t have called.”
“I need your help, Hadrian.”
His friend shook his head, turned his eyes down. “No one can help you now, Zeke. You should have stayed low. They weren’t even looking for you. Sarah knew you were alive, but she figured you were too much trouble. Now…”
Pretty much what he’d figured. “You could still come with me.”
“I can’t. You got out. You should have stayed out.”
Yes, he damn well should have. And now he had one option left. “I need to know if you have Rachel.”
Hadrian blew a long breath, looking down. “Zeke…”
“Please, Hadrian. If everything we’ve been through means something, just tell me.”
His friend looked up then, holding his gaze. “We don’t have her. Not yet. But you know we will.”
Knight couldn’t swallow. He knew only too well. There was so little time. “You should have come with me.”
“It’s too late.”
Knight shut his eyes. Maybe it had always been too late for Hadrian. “Mazzaroth off.”
He had to get off this planet. They’d be after him in hours at best. And b
efore he could go anywhere, he had to find Rachel.
He slipped back into the main room of the weapon shop. “I need to find someone,” he told the owner. “Rachel Jordan. Pretty girl, average height, long brown hair. Offworlder.” He slid another kesitah chip over the counter. “Spread the word. I’ll pay big for it.”
The man shrugged. “A picture would help.”
“I don’t have one. But she likes visiting restaurants. Warm brown eyes, too. Just spread the word.”
He left and offered the same bribe to every restaurant in the Bazaar, then moved on to every other food court he could find. It didn’t matter how many bribes he had to lay. He was going to find that girl, and he prayed he’d find her before Sarah.
Because Gehenna had somehow managed to become even more inhospitable to both of them. And it was up to Rachel to get them off this planet and into Mizraim space.
Of course, if the Gibborim didn’t have her, it meant she’d run off on her own, for God only knew what inane reason. The girl was off rotation, but she didn’t deserve what Sarah would do to her. No one did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When I left the university, shamed and on the verge of destitution, I still could have found work as a pilot. I could have gone beyond the bounds of the Empire to lecture. Or I could have joined almost any corp. My educational background and special knowledge of Angel history and technology would have made me an asset to any megacorp in the Conglomerate. In truth, I was considering an offer from Jericho when Galizur found me, and made me a sweeter deal. It wasn’t just that it was more money, it was that he spoke of the betterment of mankind. And perhaps I was naïve to think him true to his word. But then, from all I’d read of Jericho, they would have been worse.
Caleb Gavet’s office on Sepharvaim had a view of the cerulean forest that covered much of the planet’s southern hemisphere. Laban Worlds had terraformed the planet to Jericho’s specifications, creating a world ideal for the development and testing of new pharmaceuticals. Widely varying rainforest covered so much of the planet that it teemed with indigenous flora, despite very little fauna. Other than monkeys for testing, Jericho hadn’t seen the need to populate the planet with animals.
In the morning, when the wind blew, the blue-tinged leaves swayed in the breeze, and it almost looked like waves in the ocean. Caleb liked the ocean, but the corporate office didn’t offer a view of that.
Caleb chewed his thumb, watching the flow of the forest from a hundred and fifty floors up. Some of those trees were a hundred meters tall, but from up here, they looked miniature.
“Mr. Gavet?” Rebekah said. “There’s news.”
Caleb turned to look her up and down. His nineteen-year-old assistant had hair dyed flame orange and yellow eyes that sparkled. She wore a small ring in one nostril that he had an almost irresistible urge to nibble on. “I’ve told you, you can call me Caleb, Rebekah.”
“Yeah, I…” Her eyes darted to the door like someone could hurt them here. “Caleb. There are reports of a Sentinel ship headed for Gehenna.”
Caleb pictured her nipples under that tight top. He watched her figure, thinking of stilling her nervousness by rubbing her shoulders. Then her words sunk in, shattering the image. “Mizraim. You’d better go. And get me Apollo on the line.”
“I, uh… You’re sure?” She gnawed her lip in a way that made him want to bend her over his desk.
“Yes, Rebekah. Please do it now.” He shook his head, glancing down at the picture of his wife and children. They were waiting for him in his estate outside the city. What would his wife think if she knew the horrid things that went through his mind? Rebekah wasn’t even the first, not by a long shot. He just couldn’t stop himself.
He collapsed into his chair the moment Rebekah left, watching the screen on the wall. He straightened his suit, but left his shirt half unbuttoned. He believed in a casual work environment, and he led by example. Of course, for ApolloCaleb buttoned his shirt.
His screen flickered to life. Apollo’s quarters were dark as always, and all Caleb could see was a hint of his face. His eyes, a short beard. Caleb liked to think he was good at manipulating people’s expectations. Apollo was a master. He never showed himself all the way, so everyone was left to wonder what he was hiding. Caleb had to remind himself he was just being played. The man thought to add mystery to his air? Well, Caleb spent his days so deep in political intrigue he could swim through it. Let the eccentric scientist keep his front.
“You called.” Apollo’s voice was dry, emotionless as always.
“Things are progressing, but there’s been a complication. We may want to discontinue experiments on Gehenna until it’s been cleared up.”
“What complication?”
Caleb started to chew his thumb, then dropped it. In front of Apollo, it always seemed like a sign of weakness. He shouldn’t care, the man wasn’t even officially on the Jericho payroll. But the scientific advances he’d made… “Mizraim has sent Sentinels to Gehenna.”
“That’s of no consequence. Kill them if they get in the way.”
Caleb snorted. “Kill them? Sentinels? These aren’t Shiza security personnel we’re talking about. And besides, I don’t want to draw attention. I’ve no desire to become the next Keese. Look, we’ve gotten some good data. Maybe this should all be scrapped.”
“You want to wash away all the work we’ve done? This is not a setback, it’s an opportunity. Test it in the field. Let’s see what they can do.” That dry, almost monotone voice could really grate on him. Probably yet another affectation designed to do just that. Catch someone off guard, and you could control them.
“If someone finds out what we’ve been doing…”
“Then kill them. Problem solved.”
Caleb sighed. Whatever Apollo thought, Sentinels were not a good sign. But the man was right, they had worked too hard to give it all up.
“And the Sefer?” Apollo asked.
That. “We’re still searching. The Lazarus Group may have had it earlier. Now we think a rogue agent stole it from them. We’ve got people hunting her down. She’ll never make it off world. We’re watching both spaceports.”
“I want that Sefer. Find it, no matter the cost. And kill any Lazarus agents that get in the way.”
Yeah. Everybody wanted the Sefer. Including Caleb. It would lead him to the Ark. And with that, the entire board would be at his mercy. He’d be the chairman without question. More importantly, Jericho would finally surpass QI. “About that—”
“Get the Sefer, and we will unlock all the technological secrets your heart desires. Haven’t my discoveries already made you rich? They will pale in comparison.”
Oh, Apollo’s work had certainly been profitable. But Caleb still didn’t exactly trust the man. Of course, he knew better than to really trust anyone.
Apollo cut the line.
Caleb drummed his fingers on the desk. “Bring up all details on Rachel Jordan,” he said to the Mazzaroth. It provided a brief rundown on his screen. A former lecturer on New Rome, an Angelologist, who now seemed to travel quite a bit. Jericho’s records indicated she was probably on the Quasar Industries payroll. And the last thing Jericho wanted was another corp getting that Sefer. Especially QI. If they got it first, Jericho would likely be the one driven out of business, or even subsumed into QI. They’d already made strides in that direction, trying to develop nanobot construction techniques that damn near violated Jericho domain.
If it wasn’t for Apollo’s biomesh armor product line, some of the board would probably already be under the gun. But when he got the Ark, QI would see how it felt. Once the other tech megacorp had fallen, the rest of the Conglomerate would have to get in line. QI had exclusive contracts with the Sentinels, too. Once the Sentinels lost those contracts, they’d be in a much weaker position. Which meant the Mizraim Empire itself could fall under this thumb.
But only if he played this just right.
“Contact Sarah Radison.”
Sarah was
an attractive woman, but even Caleb didn’t find himself inclined to fantasize about her. Her eyes were hard, and she almost never smiled. Her dark brown hair framing her face almost, but not quite, softened it. “What is it?” she asked.
“I want you to send the Gibborim after Ms. Jordan.”
She frowned, though it was only a slight change in her expression. “I sent one. He turned up dead a little while ago. We believe a former asset is assisting her, a traitor that we’ll need to deal with.”
Now Caleb frowned. Gibborim had traitors? “Aren’t these people supposed to be your elite enforcers, Sarah? I’ve trusted you to take care of things on Gehenna. If you can’t even keep a hold on your own people…”
“I’ve got a handle on it!” she snapped, her jaw almost trembling. “Now that we’re aware of the situation, I’m sending my best agent to rectify it.”
Caleb shook his head. “No, Sarah. You’re sending every available agent to get me Ms. Jordan and whatever data she may have acquired. If you get the chance to kill this traitor, fine. But the priority is Jordan.”
“As you wish.” Sarah ground her teeth. She might not like him giving orders, but she’d do what he said. On Gehenna, she had near absolute power. The Gibborim answered to her. But she answered to Caleb.
And Rachel Jordan was about to have a very bad day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Redeemers use a specialized non-lethal weapon called a stun baton. The name belies the truly despicable nature of the weapon. It functions like any other club, and Redeemers receive elite combat training in its use. But beyond that, it delivers an electrical charge specially designed to fry your nerves and induce the maximum amount of pain possible without actually rendering you unconscious. They want their victims aware enough to answer questions and respond to torture, but in too much pain to fight back.