by Larkin, Matt
David had just come back to her and she had thought, maybe, they could finally work things out. She had wanted … everything. And instead, he’d been sent to a penal colony. They had imprisoned him because of his feelings for her. Because he refused to betray her. And instead, she had effectively betrayed him by letting him leave.
She had to find out where he was.
She had to.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
November 21st
The Sentinels are both the military of the Mizraim Empire, and their police force. Officially, their jurisdiction covers only the Empire, but they have been known to breach that in pursuit of criminals. Captured criminals are typically imprisoned on various penitentiary worlds scattered throughout the Local Group. While some are run as actual prisons, others, like Horesh, are more penal colonies, where prisoners Mizraim has no further use for are sent to die.
In the two days since Scott’s call, Rachel had made a point of not staying in any one system for long, but she was no expert pilot of the Conduit.
She hadn’t had much time to investigate, but a few discrete calls whenever they stopped—to the few friends she had left—had revealed David was sent to Horesh.
A desert world.
A place for criminals to kill each other away from civilization.
A deathtrap for a Sentinel.
David had been sent to die for refusing to betray her.
And he was there because of her. Because he’d committed treason to save her and then refused a direct order so he could protect her. She’d let him go to his doom. She’d allowed David—the man she’d once thought to spend her life with—to walk knowingly into the void.
Perhaps it wasn’t the Conduit that had so affected her. Perhaps it was guilt. Fear. Pain.
An empath knew all those emotions too well. She felt them from those around her every day. She drank in the worry of decisions that weren’t her own and risked succumbing to regrets of others. Sometimes, she thought she could drown in the weight of others’ emotions. How much worse when they came from her own conscience. In a crusade to better humanity she may have damned the man she loved the best.
It was a bitter reality she could not accept. And when you can’t accept reality, your only option was to change it.
But she was in no shape to do so at the moment. The running had worn her down, and her psionic nerves were frayed.
Even the mundane emotions Knight and Phoebe emitted when they entered the bridge tore at her mind. They became a torrent of feeling until she lost herself in it, unsure what part of the mess of anxiety, sexual tension, and irritation was her own and what part came from the other two.
“You should sleep,” Knight said.
Rachel rubbed her face. She had slept, in the chair, for … well, she didn’t know how long. But she’d slept a little. The Ark spoke to her in her dreams. On waking, though, she couldn’t quite remember any of it. It left her with a vague sense of secret knowledge, a memory of a dream at the edge of her mind. Damn unnerving.
“Maybe I should get Leah up here,” he said a moment later. “She should have a look at you.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.”
“Nice to see he cares about someone,” Phoebe mumbled.
Something tugged at her mind, and she had to focus, bringing up the holographic display. A Sentinel ship had just jumped out of the Conduit Gate. And another. And another. The Logos and two other battleships. Imperator Scott wasn’t messing around.
How had they found her so quickly?
Probably a warrant had flashed the Ark profile across the Mazzaroth, warning every civilized system in the Empire to report her.
Rachel shook her head to clear her mind. Focus. “Brace yourselves.”
“What?” Phoebe asked.
Rachel reached into the hologram to display the situation on the screen. She steered the Ark away, swinging a trajectory around the nearest planet.
The Sentinel warships would catch them in seconds.
“Those are drones they’re launching,” Phoebe said.
Fantastic.
Rachel reached into the plasma bank and began flicking bolts at the drones. One by one they dropped off the hologram, but more appeared, faster than she could shoot them down.
She was going to need to find out how to let others operate the weapons. Flying the ship by herself and shooting was complex.
A beam shot from the Logos and struck the Ark’s hull. The ship vibrated from the impact, but it was nothing compared to the sudden screech of pain that wracked her mind. Rachel grabbed her head and fell from the chair, moaning. Blinding throbbing filled her. The Ark’s wail of pain tore her mind apart. She vomited.
“Angels above!” Knight shouted. “Rachel!”
“That was an ion cannon,” Phoebe said. Her voice sounded distorted, far away. “Are they trying to destroy us?”
“Rachel!” Knight was shaking her, but all she could do was groan. “Get up! Get back in the chair!” He grabbed her face and pulled her into a sitting position, staring right into her eyes. “Pain is in the mind, Rachel. It’s not real. It’s just a message telling you about danger. Pain is in the mind.”
Hundreds of MAG rounds impacted the hull, like tiny needles on her skin. Those ships were closing fast. She could feel them, like predators stalking her.
“Doesn’t this thing have kinetic shields?” Phoebe demanded.
“Look at me, Rachel,” Knight said. “It’s in your head. You can fight through this.”
He was right. This was all just signals in her brain. Rachel gulped, then spit out the taste of bile. She wiped her mouth and Knight helped her back into the chair.
“They’ve launched shuttles,” Phoebe said. “They’re going to try to board us.”
Rachel reached back into the hologram. She could shoot down the shuttles. Kill the Sentinels. Men and women like David, just doing their duty. His brothers-in-arms. So how could she kill them?
Instead she gunned the engine as hard as she could, slingshotting around the planet. No shuttle would catch them once they reached full speed.
She reached her mind out to the Ark. Help me. Speak to me. And then she knew. It came to her like an idea almost her own. She drove the Ark straight back toward the battleships. Toward the Conduit Gate.
They drew nearer. The Logos launched missiles at them.
She reached into the plasma banks and flicked her fingers outward. Hundreds of bolts of plasma flew at the oncoming battleships. Some bolts hit missiles and detonated them. Others struck the ships themselves, ravaging their kinetic shields. The Sentinels faltered under the barrage.
Keep going. Rachel pushed the engines as hard as she could, flying right past the Sentinels. Straight for the Gate.
“We’ll lose them in the Conduit.”
“Lose them?” Phoebe said. “How the void are you going to …”
Rachel dove into the Conduit. Shimmering color erupted all around the ship. She jerked into one passage and then the next, flying as erratically as she could.
“Void!” Phoebe shouted. “Are you off rotation?”
“What?” Knight said. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s going to get us lost in here flying like that!”
Rachel’s mouth quirked up in a smile. Even an unwavering Sentinel could sweat, huh? “We have no choice. I don’t want to have to fight them.”
Nor was she even sure the Ark could take on three Sentinel warships. One for certain, maybe two. But without knowing how to properly operate the ship yet … Besides. She couldn’t kill hundreds of Sentinels. Not unless she had no choice.
Phoebe groaned. “The Second Commandment says ‘Mankind Shall Adhere to the Bounds of the Conduit’.”
“I know what it says!” Damn Commandments. Damn Codex. She jerked the ship again, doubling back through another passageway. She could feel the way. She could reach out with her mind. She wasn’t as powerful a Psych as David, but she could find the way. She knew she could.<
br />
“And if you breach the wall—”
The Ark shrieked as she turned too sharply and scraped the Conduit wall. The passageways were coming so fast. She couldn’t think. Only react.
Only keep flying.
David’s brethren were after her, after her ship. And he was alone, withering on Horesh. No course was clear before her. No options.
And in the back of her mind, the Ark urged her to destroy all foes.
She shuddered at how easy that would be.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
By creating harsh worlds such as Horesh, the Sentinels need to expend little effort watching prisoners, because the prisoner’s fate is of no concern. They need no guards. Only the worst criminals find such fates. This, of course, means you have an inhospitable planet filled with murders, traitors, and rapists. In theory, the threat of such a world hangs over the head of criminals, warning them against serious transgressions. In practice, I have some doubts about its efficacy.
It was late in the afternoon when Rebekah came into Caleb’s office, and he had just finished an excellent cup of coffee. Manna Products’ finest blend, Tubalian Mix, imported from Tubal in the Draco Dwarf galaxy. Rich, exotic, and satisfying. Like Rebekah.
He focused his cybernetic eyes on her body, drinking in every detail of her. The texture of her dyed hair, the coloration of her irises, her perfectly trimmed nails.
“I have a report from the Expanse,” she said, trying to hand him a tablet.
He waved it away. “Later.” His eyes could strip away layers of clothing, scanning beneath them. Of course, it wasn’t as much fun as seeing the real flesh.
“I think you’re going to want to hear this, Caleb.”
He sighed. She knew him well, and if she said it was important, he trusted her. “Read it to me.”
“A report from last night indicates the Cherub was attacked and destroyed by the Sons of Cain in the Expanse of Nod. No survivors are expected. The Sons of Cain set debris from the Cherub adrift near Gehenna, supposedly as a warning to stay clear of their domain.”
Caleb sat very still in his chair. The Cherub was Mathison’s ship. The Chairman of Jericho Corp was dead. Murdered by the Sons of Cain. The pirate band had long ago claimed the Expanse as a refuge from Sentinel patrols. Caleb had never heard of them being territorial over it. If they were trying to make a point, they had certainly made it.
Of course, this came days after he’d told Apollo of Mathison’s secret mission to locate an Angel outpost. It left two possibilities. Either the Sons of Cain occupied the outpost and thus Mathison ran afoul of them, or Apollo had leaked word to the pirates about the Cherub’s incursion. If the latter … Caleb chewed his thumb. With Mathison dead, the board would need a new Chairman.
“Mazzaroth on,” he said, proud of how steady his voice sounded. “Message the entire board. I’m calling an emergency session in two hours.” He switched the Mazzaroth off. “Did you do what I asked with Lucius?”
Rebekah twitched, shifting, then chewed on her lip, before nodding at last.
“Good girl.” He hadn’t loved the idea of sharing her with another man, but everything had its place. And she’d done as she was told. “Show him the video, dear, every glorious detail.” A sick part of Caleb almost wanted to watch the video he’d told her make, but he expected seeing her with another man wouldn’t turn out to be that erotic. “Show him, and make sure he knows his wife will see it following the meeting, unless he’s cooperative.”
Joseph Lucius was probably his greatest threat on the board, with Mathison gone. Likely the board would have been split between them, maybe even sided with Lucius. Caleb had brought Jericho nice advancements through Apollo, but they weren’t too thrilled he’d lost control of the Ark. Not that any of them could have done any better under the circumstances. No one could have predicted how intractable—and damn hard to kill—Rachel Jordan and her bodyguard would prove.
Rebekah sighed, then turned to leave. Oddly reluctant, given the video was the whole purpose he’d sent her to Lucius. A man after his own heart, unable to resist such a succulent and willing offer.
Caleb rose and smiled. He called his wife to tell her he’d be late for dinner. “Give the kids a kiss from me,” he said before cutting the line.
His office had an armoire filled with fine suits for just such occasions. He picked out a sleek black suit with red trim. Best to look the part.
Before he knew it, it was time for the board meeting. He walked in head held high, but trying not to smile. Mathison was dead, after all. Not really the time for cheer.
The rest of the board already sat around the table in the meeting room. The entire top floor of Jericho Tower on Sepharvaim served as the board room. Massive, open, and inspiring. A three-sixty circle of smart glass composed the wall around them. Even the lift rose from the floor so, other than structural supports, the view was almost entirely unmarred. Even better than his office a few floors down.
Caleb moved toward his seat, then paused at the head of the table. Mathison’s chair.
“Some of you have undoubtedly heard by now that Jonas Mathison was killed in the Expanse of Nod. God only knows what he was doing out there. We probably never will. What we do know is this company is in crisis. We must elect a new leader, and quickly, before any of our competitors take advantage of the situation.”
Of course, they all knew he was talking about Quasar Industries. QI would use any opportunity to one-up Jericho, and, if he knew them, would likely plan a new product launch as soon as they heard the news. If they hadn’t already. For that matter, he’d almost suspect them of involvement in the incident, except he couldn’t see how they would have found out about the Cherub.
He turned his gaze on Lucius, who was staring down at the table. Many of the others looked to him, as well. Lucius squirmed under the scrutiny, then cleared his throat. “Well, it seems to me the course is clear. Based on his knowledge of the Gehenna incident, and the importance of the Ark, I feel Caleb Gavet would make the natural choice to replace Mathison.”
Ah, Rebekah. She was such a beautiful aid, in more ways than one. He’d have to give her a raise. Maybe buy her a nice outfit, or something.
He kept his face impassive, not bothering to look shocked. Instead he nodded. One by one the board members cast their votes, and though a couple of others garnered a vote or two, with Lucius behind him, there was no doubt of the outcome.
Caleb was now the new Chairman of Jericho Corp.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
And David, as a former Sentinel, probably sent some of those criminals to that planet himself. I fear for his safety. While he can certainly take care of himself, such an environment will destroy him, sooner or later. And I cannot allow that. I will not lose David.
The shuttle set down in the wilderness, though little on Horesh passed for civilization. They had taken David’s uniform and left him with nothing but a pair of gray pants and a tan tunic.
One of the Sentinels tossed him a scarf. “You’ll live longer.”
David wrapped the scarf around his face, covering his mouth and nose. The shuttle door opened, revealing a cracked, dry desert. A harsh wind blew dust and debris around the shuttle, and David glanced back at the Sentinel once. In theory, a criminal could complete his or her sentence and petition for release. In practice, few ever lived that long.
The Sentinel pointed to the west. “There’s a settlement out there.”
David nodded and headed out. Maybe this was justice. He had sent people to this hellhole for violating the law—and he’d called it justice.
But Rachel was safe, and that was all that mattered now.
Sand and grit stung his forehead the moment he stepped into the wind. By the time he’d taken a few steps the shuttle had lifted off again. He had to shield his face with his arm against the extra grit it kicked up.
He watched it vanish into the atmosphere. The sun here was merciless, he knew. He’d need shelter and water, and soon. Sentinels occasion
ally dropped food deposits, but they knew most inmates had to fight each other for it. It was part of the punishment. And now David would have to fight for food—he might have to kill, even, or risk becoming too weak to do so later.
He trod off toward the settlement. For over an hour he walked, the sun baking the top of his head. If that Sentinel had really cared, he’d have given him a bloody hat. He supposed he should be grateful for the scarf, little as it was. It did keep the dust out of his nose. His Smogger lungs could filter toxins, but grit would still clog his sinuses.
The settlement was carved from the rock face, a series of tunnels and rooms without doors. It was a maze that gave prisoners a chance to hide from one another and more than enough room to find shelter from the sun, although not much else. Dozens of these rock towns littered this planet.
More importantly, there would be a well nearby.
The moment he stepped into the structure people were watching him. An Anakim folded his arms over his chest, as if to block the way. The man had to be almost two and half meters tall, and built like a solid wall. David tried to step around the man, but the giant grabbed his shoulder.
One chance to prove himself. He supposed he should be grateful to the giant for giving it to him.
He snatched the Anakim’s hand and twisted, breaking his fingers. He pulled the giant’s arm behind his back, and the man shrieked in pain. David landed a tight blow on his kidney and dropped him. His attacker collapsed to the ground.
As soon as he looked up, four other men had surrounded him. Apparently they had missed his point. They hesitated, but not for long.
One swung at him. David caught his arm and jerked it out of the socket. He swept another’s feet out, then slammed his foot on the man’s chest, cracking ribs. He flung the man he held at another attacker, and rounded on the last. David stepped in, and when the man tried to swing, kneed him in the stomach. His foe fell.