by Larkin, Matt
She sat quietly at the controls of the shuttle, as if suddenly unsure how to fly the thing. Not for the first time, he wished he knew what to say, how to comfort someone. Maybe Phoebe was right. Maybe he’d failed to learn basic lessons as a child other people learned. Growing up a Gibborim had made him strong. Hadn’t it?
Sometimes, he wondered whether the price was worth it. Sometimes, he felt he’d give quite a lot to know what to say to either of the women in situations like these. At times, Rachel was so sure of herself, so certain she knew best for the whole human race. She was arrogant like that, but he liked it in her. Confidence mattered.
Phoebe had that confidence, too, but hers was different. It was hard-won, and she took everything like a damn challenge. It was all too easy to offend her without even trying.
From childhood it was drilled into him—trust himself, trust his instincts. There was no place for doubt. A moment’s hesitation and you were dead. Strike fast. Strike hard. Don’t look back.
But Rachel was looking back. Every minute or so she glanced at the wreckage of destroyers as she passed. Probably imagined the crews. Their families.
Knight shifted in his seat. If he had stopped to think about the families of those he killed, could he have even done it? Could he have been Gibborim?
“Are you ashamed of me, too?” Rachel asked.
“No.” Never. Rachel’s convictions carried her through life like a whirlwind. He could only admire someone like that. He supposed it was the same with Phoebe. If he’d offended her, he should try to make amends. Maybe she was right and the fault was his—something he couldn’t see because his childhood had been so different from other people’s.
“I feel your emotions … I just can’t understand them. You starting to doubt me?”
Knight folded his arms. “Would it matter? Did you care whether I believed in your crusade before?”
“No. I mean, it shouldn’t. It’s just … Things changed.”
Things had. Once, he’d thought she would give him children. Then David showed up. And here he was going to rescue the bastard. His life might be better if the man never returned.
Not that he disliked the Sentinel. David had taught him some excellent techniques, had spoken to him with respect—if grudgingly. He supposed they shared common ground in caring for Rachel. And in being pulled along in her off rotation mission to save the human race from itself.
“Rachel,” he said at last. “The moment you let go of your convictions, you fail. You don’t need my belief.”
“Maybe I do,” she mumbled.
“Not like you need David.” He regretted it the moment he said it. Reminding her of him did nothing for his cause.
She shook her head. “God, Knight, what do I say to you? Besides, I’ve seen the tension between you and Phoebe.”
“She’s a cold bitch.”
“Yeah, right. I can feel your emotions, and hers. Neither of you feels anything cold about the other, Knight.”
No way. He’d made the mistake of starting to think she could be another friend. Sparring with her, wrestling, even just talking. She’d asked him about the weapons he used as a Gibborim, especially fascinated with the kyoketsu. He’d been unable to find another since leaving Gehenna, and Phoebe had said she might try to help him. They’d talked for hours about different techniques with the whip-dagger or the sword.
But that was before. Before he’d gone to Ekron with her and seen how off rotation she was. She hated him now, he was sure. And that shouldn’t bother him so damn much. Here he was, actually trying to think of how to apologize to the Icie. Him! Apologize.
Rachel snickered. “You two have been itching to jump into bed since the day you met, so much so sometimes I can’t even … Well, never mind that. But maybe you should just fuck her and get it over with.”
“Because that worked out so well with you.”
Rachel’s mouth clamped shut.
Damn. Another thing he shouldn’t have said. And since when should he have to care what other people thought so much? Since when should he have to watch his words? There was a time people feared his every thought, no one would dare question him.
Who was he kidding? He was no longer that man, and part of the reason was sitting in the shuttle beside him. And despite himself, despite it all, he was going down to the planet to help her find her damn boyfriend. What kind of a punk had he become?
There was nothing between him and Phoebe, and now there could be nothing else between him and Rachel. It was fine. He’d been alone his entire life. He could find temporary respite with a woman, of course, and as a Gibborim, he’d had plenty to share his bed. But before Shirin, none had shared his heart.
He slipped the holo glasses from his coat.
“What is it?” Rachel asked. “They look broken.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll bet Phoebe could fix them. She’s got an engineering degree, you know …”
Yes. He was definitely going to ask her to fix a memento from his dead ex-lover. He tucked the glasses back in his coat. “It’s nothing. Easily replaced.”
“Some things can’t be replaced, Knight. You should know that.”
How true.
Rachel was his friend. With Hadrian gone, she was his only friend. The last thing he had left to hold onto. So if she needed David back, he’d go find the Sentinel for her.
There was a time he lived only for himself. Those days might have been simpler. He worried only about his next job, only about getting the money to get off Gehenna. And then Rachel came along. But the worst thing was, he couldn’t even hate her for it—because those days had also been lonely. Lonelier than he’d ever realized until she’d come in and filled that void.
Maybe he couldn’t quite understand her love for humanity as a whole, or her need to better it. But he didn’t have to.
“Rachel, I know you feel bad about the people who died today.”
She focused on the planet’s atmosphere as she dropped the shuttle in for descent.
“You care so much because you’re still a good person. It means the woman who set out to save the universe is still in there. Remember that, when you’re beating yourself up over this.”
She quirked the edge of a smile. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t feel bad that I feel bad, because feeling bad means I’m a good person?”
Well, that sounded stupid. This was why he was no good with this kind of shit. “I’m saying I wouldn’t have hesitated to blow the Sentinels away. And I wouldn’t be tearing myself up over it, either.”
Rachel glowered.
Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, either.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
November 27th
Days of waiting on this shuttle are interminable. I receive updates from Phoebe, each one more dire than the last. I should have gone with Knight.
Two days on Horesh and Knight had found nothing.
He had insisted Rachel remain on the shuttle.
“You might need me,” she’d said.
The look he’d given her had stilled that objection. He was better alone. Faster. Quieter.
He crept over a rock precipice to spy on the settlement below. Carved from stone, like the last two. Gehenna had been warm, but this place was damn hot. At least until night fell, then the planet seemed to lose heat like someone flipped a switch. He wrapped the scarf closer around his face and slunk toward the outpost.
When she’d come to Gehenna, Rachel had seemed taken aback the Angels had created such a hellish penal colony. Yet her own government had done nearly the same thing here. If the Sentinels abandoned this place, in a few centuries it would likely be no different than Gehenna. A world ruled by the strong, enslaved by its own corruption. Festering in irrelevance and lost to the rest of the universe.
The last two settlements he’d snuck in windows and stalked the shadows seeking David. Sooner or later, though, he had to show himself to ask questions. And when he did, gangs invariably swarmed him. Carri
on beetles seeking fresh meat, eager to assert themselves over anyone else. Such a fragile pecking order, needing constant reinforcement.
And so he’d left a mess of bodies in his wake.
This time he wouldn’t bother creeping around. Right in the front door and get it over with.
Knight slid down the rock face, then strode into the settlement like he owned the place. Perhaps that was enough, because those few men watching the door took one look at him and then looked away. Typical, he supposed. They wanted easy prey.
Still, he wasn’t there ten minutes before he felt them following him. Forming up around him, herding him toward an open room on the third story. Unaware he was herding them, as well.
His fingers wrapped around a long, thin chain. Phoebe hadn’t been able to replace his monofilament kyoketsu, but she’d at least given him reinforced chain.
He stepped out toward the balcony, reveling in the sunlight. After a lifetime beneath Gehenna’s ash-filled sky, beneath its dying red sun, the bright sunlight here was both invigorating and unnerving.
One of the men reached for his shoulder. Knight could feel it. He spun, wrapping the chain around the man’s wrist to block his attempt. He kicked out another man’s knee, then slammed his palm into a third man’s face. Those two men fell before the rest of the gang had even realized what happened.
Someone shouted, and chaos erupted. Time slowed around him. A ganger swung at him in slow motion. Knight stepped to the side, then dodged another blow. He hooked the chain around an attacker’s neck, then kicked the man whose wrist he’d snared. The bastard tumbled over the balcony, shrieking. The man with the chain on his neck jerked forward, slammed into the balcony wall, gasping for breath.
Two more men tried to grab him. He snatched one’s wrist and broke it, then slapped his hand like a knife into the other’s throat. Someone swung a club. Knight flipped up onto the balcony to dodge and flung throwing knives at two more attackers.
And then everyone was on the floor. Pathetic. Thugs trying to show strength. Utterly unprepared for a professional fighter. Unaware someone like him—death in the shadows—could lurk so close. Gibborim training had made him strong. He was beginning to think Sentinels were the only threat to him out there. And since David had started teaching him Merkabah, even they were less of a challenge.
Knight grabbed the man with the broken wrist by the shirt and hauled him to his feet. “Where is David McGregor?”
The man glared at Knight, then glanced at his fallen comrades. The one with the chain around his neck had suffocated. Others were dead, unconscious, or broken. The thug’s face quickly fell. “Who?”
“A Sentinel, imprisoned here not long ago. Short brown hair. Tall. Probably broke a bunch of bones when he came in. Ring any bells?”
The ganger looked like he was about to spit, then thought better of it. So he did know David. Finally. Knight was tired of scouring this dust ball for the man.
“You gonna kill him?”
Knight smirked. Making friends everywhere, David? “Just take me to him.”
He released the man, who clutched his broken wrist and stumbled through the corridors. He retreated down the stairs, and headed through a dark hall.
“If you lead me into an ambush I’ll break the other wrist and both your legs,” Knight said. In a place like this, it would be a death sentence.
The man’s steps faltered, and he glanced back at him. “Uh, no. No, it’s this way,” he said, pointing to a different hall. He led Knight down another set of stairs, back toward the ground level, and around several tunnels.
They passed a well where many men and women had gathered. The gangs likely tried to control access to water, but they couldn’t restrict it entirely. Without water, people died. The dead were hard to manipulate or extort. He could only imagine what the weak had to do to get water here. A trio of half-naked women against the wall told him all he needed to know. One had a black eye and busted lip. Another didn’t even bother trying to cover herself where someone had ripped open her shirt.
Part of him wanted to just kill these people, all the gangers responsible for this hell. Once, he wouldn’t have cared—or would have tried not to. Had Rachel’s soft heart worn off on him? He didn’t know these people, they weren’t his friends. In fact, they were criminals sentenced here by Sentinels for crimes severe enough to warrant such abuse. As if anything one could do in life deserved a fate worse than death.
He could walk from room to room killing every ganger he found. But in the end, they’d be replaced before the week was out. A new pecking order would form. Those who had been oppressed would become the oppressors. They’d turn on their fellows. A few might be better off, but most would find their situation unchanged.
While he’d only amass more blood on his hands. And he had a lifetime of that already.
Nearby, he saw the body of an Icie, barely a boy. Thank God Phoebe hadn’t come to this planet. The heat would have wilted her like a flower. This place might be a death sentence for anyone, but to send an Icie here … It sounded like something the Shadow Council of Gehenna would do, not something he’d expected from the supposedly righteous Sentinels.
“That was his friend,” the ganger said.
Knight sighed, and motioned the man to lead on.
The ganger led him to a chamber not far from the well, where David sat alone, a scarf wrapped around his face. His head was down on his arms, but Knight was sure it was him. The Sentinel looked up when he approached, his face covered in a mess of beard.
“What the bloody void are you doing here?”
Knight glanced back at the ganger. “Leave.” The man did, and Knight knelt beside David. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Dear God, tell me you didn’t bust in here, violating Sentinel command?”
Knight shrugged. “I could tell you that, if you like.”
“Rachel sent you for this? She sent you for me … Shite, man! Aren’t we in enough trouble without the two of you flaunting every law in the universe? You cannot just go breaking into a prison, Knight!”
There was gratitude for you. It didn’t really surprise him. David was too stiff, too attached to a uniform he no longer even wore. Maybe Knight could understand. It was hard to break away from the things you knew, the things you were raised to. Without Shirin, Knight probably never would have done so. It wasn’t like he could claim some great moral outrage at the Shadow Council’s orders. He’d split from them for a women. And, in the end, he suspected David would too.
“Rachel’s in danger. She needs you now, and this is your only chance to help her.”
David sat up straight at that and scratched his head. “What’s the lass done now?”
“Mizraim demanded the Ark and she refused. They’re after her. So’s the whole Conglomerate. Oh, and she’s planning to find Eden.”
The look on his face alone was worth the trip. “She … what?”
He shrugged. “She says finding our homeworld will help unify humanity, or whatever.”
“Aye? Eden? As in …”
Knight clapped the Sentinel on the shoulder. “Come on. You can sputter your objections later. We both know you’re not going to leave her in danger.”
David sighed, and rose. “Suppose you’re right. You’re still a bit of an annoying wanker, you know that?”
Knight didn’t even know what that meant. He suspected he’d been called worse.
David followed him out of the chamber, but paused at the body of the Icie. He knelt down. “Sorry, lad,” he whispered.
Knight said nothing.
He never knew what to say.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Even from down on the planet, I can still feel the Ark in orbit above me. It is hard to describe, but I would almost say it misses me. I miss it too. And, unbelievable as it sounds, the Ark seems to understand my feelings for David and why I’m doing this.
The shuttle sat on the cracked dirt, inviting him in. David was never more glad he’d left two o
f the Logos shuttles for the Ark. The hatch opened and Rachel stepped out, her hair blowing in the desert wind.
David ran toward her, though every step was an effort. Lack of food and dehydration had made him weak. The nanobot injection Knight had given him had cured the bruises and sunburns, but could do nothing for his exhaustion. Still, the mere sight of Rachel gave him strength. He threw his arms around her.
“Mac!” She embraced him, and he never wanted to let her go.
Then he felt her lift her head to look at Knight over his shoulder. “You found him. Thank you so much.”
“Of course I found him.” Knight pushed past them and sat in the shuttle.
David blew out a breath and guided Rachel inside as well. “Best not stay here long, then.”
“You have no idea,” she said. “While we were down here, the Sentinels sent in five cruisers, and I suspect they have battleships on the way. Phoebe’s been keeping them at bay with threats, but their numbers are growing. We have to get the void out of here.”
David sat in the pilot’s chair. They all knew he was the best. No use avoiding the point. “Aye. Strap in.”
As soon as they did, he launched the shuttle into the sky. There were probably other people on this planet who didn’t deserve to be here, and part of him wanted to save them all. He’d failed that Icie kid—the lad had died in his arms. Despite David’s best efforts, water alone could not save the man from heat stroke.
But Knight had been right about one thing—he would make Rachel his priority. In his days on Horesh he had barely slept, but he had dozed, imagining her face. He’d thought he’d never see her again. Ten years was a lifetime, and he never expected to live through the whole sentence. Sooner or later, exhaustion would have forced him into deeper sleep, and someone would have slit his throat.