Sins of Angels (The Complete Collection)

by Larkin, Matt

  “The Sentinels were formed in the wake of the Exodus,” Rachel said. “With the Adversary almost wiping out mankind, they swore to create a force so disciplined, so powerful, no enemy could ever threaten us with extinction again. Ironically, the same justification the Angels probably had for the Third Commandment.”

  Man Shall Populate the Universe. Rachel had never had much love for that one. She took the Angels’ command to have lots of babies as some kind of personal insult, claiming the social pressure it placed on women was only a step above institutionalized rape. Meaning she objected on moral grounds to something maybe she would otherwise have done—or at least that was his fear. He’d wanted children with her for years, and she’d always demurred. And part of him, a part he tried not to dwell on, feared she did so not because of him, or even because she didn’t want children, but because she wanted to challenge tradition one more way.

  The look she suddenly shot him told him she’d felt the direction of his feelings. He tried to focus on his desire for children, not any resentment he might have held for her misguided idealism. As an empath, she was attuned to the feelings of all those around her, but most especially him. And he still hoped one day soon they would move past the wars and chaos and her crusade and be able to be together, to raise a family.

  And just when he would begin to think all hope for it lost, she would give him one of those smiles, like she offered now, clearly picking up his sentiment.

  “My favorite Commandment,” Knight said.

  Phoebe elbowed him in the side. “Been following it, ninja-boy? Do I have to worry about lots of little Knights running around Gehenna?”

  “No.”

  “That’s too bad,” Leah said. “It would be interesting to study your bloodline further if we …” The Amphie’s voice trailed off at the look everyone gave her.

  David chuckled.

  The lift carried them from the hangar, zipping past other spheres and down toward the central hub. Inside, in a darkness beyond the Sanhedrin Chamber, waited the most powerful computer in the universe—save perhaps the Ark itself.

  The lifted settled into the central sphere and the smart glass doors opened. Their Sentinel escort formed up on the walkway leading to the chamber. This was as far as they went, David guessed.

  “What are you doing?” Phoebe whispered to Knight.

  David glanced back to see the assassin’s hand on one of his throwing knives. He followed the man’s gaze to the wall. Or a slight shimmering against it. The Gog. So the spies were still here, in the Tabernacle itself. Parasites feeding on the fear of others. If the Shekhinah allowed him back into service, maybe he could find out how deeply the Sentinels’ ties with the Gogmagog now ran.

  “Peace,” he said, staring into Knight’s eyes. He willed the man to understand that, aye, he knew the creature was there, and no, they couldn’t do anything about it.

  Knight released the knife, and David turned back, leading the way through the Sanhedrin Chamber. The circular room remained dark, except for a single illuminated path, leading toward a door in the back of the hall.

  David paused at the door to take in his four comrades. Leah and Phoebe had sided with him when he mutinied against Captain Waller. He had spared them persecution by taking the blame on his shoulders, but then, he’d also made sure they were on the Ark and out of Waller’s reach. Now, he’d brought them back, and he couldn’t say for certain whether they would face consequences for their actions.

  But they had lost the Ark. The Angels were awake now, and he hoped they had driven the Conglomerate off the Ark. All he could do was try to protect his people from the war with Asherah. And to do that, he had to be here. He had to risk it all, even the people he cared most about. Even Rachel, though he’d do almost anything to keep her safe.

  David pulled off his glove and placed his palm on the door scanner.

  CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN

  I have spoken to David of my fears, my doubts … He tells me to have faith in the Angels. He still believes in them, despite the theocracy they forced us under. For my part—I believe in him.

  The only light in the inner chamber came from a central pillar Knight assumed was the Shekhinah itself. A plethora of thick, black cables ran from the pillar into the walls of the circular room. Faint red illumination seeped from small openings in the pillar.

  Despite the darkness, he could see. He had always had good night vision, but this was something else. He could clearly see the maze of cables as they twisted around each other like a den of snakes. He could see the conduits on the wall where those cables disappeared. Was it possible Raziel’s experiments had done something to his eyes, as well?

  David saluted the pillar, then stood at attention. Utterly ridiculous. “David McGregor, reporting.”

  A sound of mechanical whirring fired inside the pillar, so faint, he wondered if the others had even heard it.

  Then a voice spoke. “Ezekiel Knight.” The voice, though feminine, sounded hollow, and it echoed off the chamber as though coming from all directions. In fact, Knight had a faint sensation it was not a single voice, but that of several women speaking in perfect unison.

  A beam of light shot from the pillar and swept over him, scanning his body from head to toe in an instant. “Your bloodline is confirmed,” the computer said. “Your genetic structure can only have resulted from an Angel eugenics project.”

  “Yeah, I got that already.”

  “Knight!” David said through clenched teeth.

  The computer whirred briefly. “Such a bloodline represents an invaluable resource to the Mizraim Empire. You are hereby ordered to uphold the Third Commandment and reproduce as frequently as possible, with as many partners as available.”

  Well … okay. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  Phoebe slapped his ass. “Really? As many partners as available? You may find that number fairly limited. One at the most, I think. Depending on your behavior. Actually, that probably means none.”

  “Rachel Jordan,” the machine said, apparently ignoring anything further Knight might have to say on the matter. “You are prepared to turn over to the Sentinels all knowledge related to the Ark and any secrets it may have led you to?”

  And this was where they came to it, in the end. Rachel said she was going to cooperate, but for as long as he’d known her, it was never her style. She distrusted any authority as if on principle, and this thing appeared to be the ultimate authority in Mizraim. It kind of boggled the mind that an Empire ruling over trillions of people was itself ruled by a computer. If Rachel was right, the thing had created the Empire by appointing itself the legitimate successor to the Angels. It had recruited the Sentinels to enforce its order, and created the Sanhedrin to give a human face to its rule. Where Knight came from, humans created machines and used them, not the other way around.

  Phoebe’s jest aside, he wasn’t entirely certain he liked being told to breed by a machine. Not that he didn’t want children—he surely did. Like anyone else—or almost anyone, excluding Rachel—he believed in the Third Commandment. Until he’d met Rachel, he’d never even questioned why. People were supposed to have children. That’s what everyone was taught was the purpose of life, from the time they were children themselves. Sometimes, he’d felt his life a failure because he had found no mate on Gehenna. And then he’d met Rachel, and she’d asked the damn question. The question he had never thought to ask in his whole life before that—why? Did he want children because he truly wanted them, or did he want children because he’d been taught to want them, by others who had been taught the same thing?

  Rachel had made his life a lot more complicated.

  She breathed out a long sigh. “I am. I have agreed to commit myself fully to the Sentinels and their cause.”

  “And you, Ezekiel Knight? Do you also agree?”

  Knight nodded.

  Phoebe squeezed his hand. “I think you have to speak,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Then the
Shekhinah hereby bestows upon the both of you a field commission, of the rank of Lieutenant.”

  “Wait, what?” Phoebe said. “He’s going to be the same rank as me? That’s a load of—”

  David spun and silenced her with a glare. Knight chuckled, and David turned the look on him. Making it even harder to keep a straight face. Knight squeezed Phoebe’s hand back and she jerked it away, then folded her arms over her chest.

  “David McGregor, the Shekhinah hereby restores your commission and promotes you to the rank of Captain. You are ordered to take command of the Wheel of Law, and to take that ship to the front against the Asherahan Confederacy. Use all resources available, including the knowledge of Rachel Jordan, to eliminate the threat. Be certain to ensure the survival of Ezekiel Knight, and arrange for as many females on your ship to breed with him as possible.”

  “What?” Phoebe stomped her foot. “What the bloody void kind of—”

  David shot her another look, and Leah put a hand on her shoulder.

  Knight decided nothing he could possibly say could make the situation any better, so he kept his mouth shut.

  “I request to take Lieutenant Command Suzuki and Lieutenant Dana with me as new crew for the Wheel of Law,” David said.

  “Your request is granted. You are dismissed.” Further mechanical whirring sounded from the pillar, and then the door to the chamber opened.

  Knight slipped out of the stifling room the moment he could. A pressure was building inside his chest, inside his head. Years of training told him he had to always appear strong and in control, so he forced himself not to stumble or lean on anyone. His mind controlled his body. It was his choice whether to let weakness take over.

  Raziel had turned him into a breeding commodity. While the thought of women lining up outside his room, waiting to sleep with him was amusing—and arousing—it left a hollow pit in his stomach. Because maybe Rachel was right about the Third Commandment. About … everything. She’d been right about the Angels and all they’d done to him. And now, this Shekhinah, their legacy, was trying to breed him like livestock. And the thought had made him lightheaded.

  Rachel turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder, supporting him. Damn empath could sense his unease.

  “Hey, don’t think you’re going to be mating with him, either!” Phoebe said. “This is fucking ridiculous!”

  Rachel rolled her eyes and released Knight with a sigh.

  He nodded at her. “I’m fine.” Then he turned to Phoebe. “And you have nothing to worry about.”

  Leah cleared her throat. “This isn’t really the place for this.”

  “Aye,” David said, and led them back out of the chamber.

  Outside, the Sentinels saluted. “Captain McGregor.” How the void did they already know? Was the Shekhinah in communication with them? “We are to escort you to the Wheel of Law.”

  David returned the salute and motioned everyone to follow. The Sentinels led the way. Knight supposed he would have to stop thinking of them as ‘the Sentinels’. He was one of them now.

  “You didn’t tell it about Raziel,” he whispered to Rachel.

  “David and I agreed no one can know,” she whispered back. “I guess we’ll be transferring the … cargo to our new ship in secret.”

  So they were still taking the Angel with them. That was just fantastic.

  CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

  December 16th

  So I have become a Sentinel. A guardian of the Mizraim Empire. Once, I looked on such men and women with the awe any citizen feels in their presence. Then, in time, it became disdain. I saw Sentinels as a symptom of the disease afflicting mankind—the disease of blind faith and subservience.

  Victory had been in Caleb’s grasp, and it had been snatched away once again. He suspected Rachel Jordan. The girl had gone from a minor annoyance to an enduring nemesis he couldn’t quite squash. He doubted he’d ever had more dislike for someone he’d never met. The Ark would have been his, it was his. And then, without warning, a hundred Angels had showed up and taken over the ship.

  After the shock had faded, Caleb was forced to call Apollo again. The man had threatened Caleb’s family unless he acquired the Ark, and without it, he had nothing to cow Apollo with. But the scientist had seemed less shocked than Caleb would have expected at the news. His face never faltered.

  “You will take your ship and go to Asherah. Contact Aluf Mishma Lamport and work together to secure the Ark against this new threat.”

  And Apollo had cut the line.

  Caleb sat on his cot in the Empyrean Throne, Jericho’s flagship, idly stroking Rebekah’s naked back.

  So Apollo had contacts in the Asheran Confederacy. The military, no less. An Aluf was a general, as near as Caleb knew. Or part general, part dictator might be more accurate. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. It would explain where Apollo had learned so much about cybernetics. The Asherans had long since abandoned the Commandments, including the First. Rumors abounded that nearly every citizen, or least any with wealth, had some amount of cybernetic enhancements on them.

  Redeemers—in fact, most of Mizraim—would call cyborgs the worst of all khapiru. They would call them anathema that needed to be destroyed. Redeemers didn’t wash the sins of cyborgs. Such creatures were beyond saving, they believed. Of course, Caleb was one of them. Apollo had first replaced his eyes with cybernetic implants. Caleb could see in near total darkness, scan information for future use, make video recordings, and—his favorite trick—use his vision to scan through ladies’ clothes and see the flesh beneath. After the eyes, Apollo had put some kind of chip in Caleb’s head—supposedly to block telepaths from scanning him. Caleb had his doubts.

  He sighed.

  The Throne was headed for Asheran space. If the Sentinels had any idea what he was about, they’d hunt him down and destroy him at any cost. An alliance between the Conglomerate, or even one megacorp, and the Asheran Confederacy would prove devastating to Mizraim. He supposed that was Apollo’s plan. Create chaos and sweep in to pick up the pieces. To the victor go the spoils.

  And Caleb was a fool to have ever started down this road. He should have taken Ayelet and the kids and fled to some backwater world where he could live a normal life.

  Of course, he was kidding himself. Even if he was satisfied with an average existence—and he wouldn’t be—Ayelet would never accept one. Not after tasting the benefits of extreme wealth. No, he’d let his family become accustomed to life at the top, and now he had to keep them there.

  “Captain Ellis to Mr. Gavet.”

  Caleb frowned, then tapped his comm. “Gavet here. Go ahead, Captain.”

  “We’ve arrived at the system you designated. An Asheran Leviathan is drawing up alongside us.”

  A Leviathan. God help them. Caleb blew out a long breath before answering. “Extend an invitation to the Aluf. I’ll meet him in the observation deck in half an hour.”

  Caleb cut the comm and glanced down at Rebekah. He briefly considered whether they had time for a quick romp, but decided there was no way. Instead, he went to the armoire and grabbed his fanciest coat. Black. He always looked good in black.

  Rebekah stirred as he dressed, but didn’t wake. Caleb sighed, then bent and kissed the back of her head. “Sorry for getting you into this, too.”

  He left and took the lift up. The observation deck was a dome atop the Empyrean Throne, just above the bridge. Reinforced smart glass gave them a three-sixty degree view of space around them. This system was uninhabited, but from it one could see a brilliant fiery nebula, like a vision of heaven itself. Maybe Lamport chose the system for that reason. Maybe it was just a convenient meeting place, just inside Asheran space.

  Of course, Asheran space was now expanding. The Confederacy had begun a push into Mizraim territory, starting with the outlaying galaxies. An initial offensive had gone well for Asherah, he’d heard. At least until the Sentinels showed up in force. The self-righteous police and military force that guarded Mizra
im had a justified reputation as the finest fighting force in history. Caleb had hoped to match them with Gibborim cyborgs, but he’d had to all but abandon that project after the disaster on Gehenna. One more thing to blame Rachel Jordan for.

  A few minutes later, the lift whirred again, reappeared. A man strode forward, flanked by four guards. Three men and one woman. Each guard had silver armor that looked like skin. On their faces, metal protrusions stuck out from their real skin. Caleb couldn’t tell whether the silver was grafted to them, some kind of form-fitting armor, or an actual cybernetic replacement of part of their bodies. The woman had purple hair, and he caught himself fantasizing about trying to get her out of that armor—it left so little to the imagination.

  The Aluf himself wore heavier armor, chrome-colored, with a helm that boasted a cross of glowing light instead of a faceplate. The man stalked forward and offered a hand, and Caleb realized his arms weren’t armored—they were cybernetic replacements. Machines. Blatant cybernetics.

  Caleb took his hand and shook it. He’d feared the man would try to give some crass demonstration of strength, but the Aluf didn’t squeeze his hand, just shook it like a normal person.

  “Welcome to the Empyrean Throne, Aluf.” Caleb waved for the man to sit with him at the table.

  As they did so, he noticed the guards had some kind of spinal grafts protruding from their backs. He couldn’t say what the implants were doing, but he doubted it would be good. A sudden thought flashed through his mind. Could Apollo be one of these people? Was he working for Asherah, subverting the Conglomerate to bring their ends closer together? It made all too much sense. He’d played Caleb, teasing him with technological advancements, while really pursuing Asheran ends.

  “Aluf Lamport, I am certain you’ve heard by now the rumors that the Ark has been taken by Angels.”