by Larkin, Matt
So be it. He had brought this fate on himself, and he would see himself through it. Off this ship, away from Apollo, at last he would be free to think. Maybe the pirates would kill him. But if not, if he was free from the Asheran for even a little while, maybe he could make a plan. Find a way to win his freedom forever, without the man reading his thoughts. Of course, maybe Apollo had heard that thought right this moment.
So what if he had.
Fuck you, you sick bastard!
Had he heard that? Caleb suddenly felt ill again. Angels, what if the man had heard it? He wasn’t free yet. And worse … the real clutch of the whole situation … he needed Apollo. If the Angels won, they would likely destroy Caleb and Jericho and quite possibly his family to boot. And he’d be damned before he let anything happen to Ayelet or James or Miriam. He would get in bed with the Adversary itself before he would let the Angels harm his family.
The door to his room buzzed.
Shit. Apollo had heard his mental tirade, hadn’t he? Well … Face the future, Caleb. For the moment, they needed each other. He needed Apollo to stop the Angels, and the man seemed to need Caleb and the authority he supposedly commanded. So it was time to start acting like a partnership again.
He waved open the door, but it wasn’t Apollo who strode in. Rebekah.
“I thought you might be lonely,” she said. “I hadn’t seen you all day.” She began to unbutton her top in slow, sensuous motions.
Caleb watched her, his pulse quickening. He willed himself not to scan through her clothes. No spoiling the show. He needed the reprieve, didn’t he? Didn’t he deserve one, after all he’d been through?
Yes.
Yes.
He rushed over to her and yanked her top apart, snapping buttons in the process. He flung her onto the bunk, and she laughed. And he took her, pouring his fears and frustrations into her. And she just kept laughing, nipping at his ear.
And afterward, she lay panting beside him. Innocent—or as near to it as she could be. He had tainted her, bringing her into his twisted universe of corruption and blackmail. He’d used her body for his own sick lusts and his political aims. He prayed her soul remained intact.
“I have to go away for a while. You’re to take the first available passage back to Sepharvaim.”
“Wh-what? No, I’m going with you.”
Oh, that would be nice. To have an assistant to care for him there. And she would take care of all his needs. She always did. And then the pirates would likely take her for their needs. No. He had cost this girl enough. He was a bastard, but at least he could try to do right by her at the end.
“No, Rebekah. Where I’m going is too dangerous for you. Go home.”
She sat up, oblivious or uncaring how her breasts jiggled enticingly. “What the void, Caleb? You have your way with me, then cast me aside? Send me away?”
“It’s for your own protection. I can’t—”
“Yeah, right. Fine. Have your secret meeting or whatever.” She hopped up, pressed her shirt to her chest, and stormed out without even dressing.
Not much worry for modesty out in the hall, eh.
Poor girl. He’d probably burn in hell for all he’d done to her. And to the others before her.
But maybe he could spare her the same fate.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN
January 22nd
I didn’t know Degana O’Malley as well as I did her brother, but we have bonded over common grief. The woman is warm and has welcomed me to her ship, her home. And I, in my never-ending sense of self-delusion, will allow myself to believe I have found a new home here. We sit and sip tea and speak of fond memories of Thomas. And in the Eden System, cut off from the rest of the universe, we hide from our real troubles. We have a lot in common.
Sure enough, the Anthem was in orbit above Eden. The ship was small compared to the Wheel of Law—a civilian transport, best suited for intergalactic travel. Must have been a hard journey to reach Eden. Based on the external signs of wear on the other ship, David would guess they’d need some time to repair before they could leave.
The Angels had hidden this planet well. And despite all they had done in the last weeks, he couldn’t blame them for that. Eden was a world of ghosts, and Rachel tempted fate, coming back here.
Maybe she didn’t even know all that had happened. Would she have heard about New Rome and Hazaroth? David still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea. He’d spoken to his father on the Mazzaroth a day before the planet fell. He’d let him know he’d be around, thought maybe they could meet for lunch. They’d talked a bit of haver and joked about David outdoing his mum, meeting with Angels and all.
And it would be the last time David ever spoke to his father.
He’d said David’s sister had a new boyfriend. David would never meet him. He’d never see Adina again, either. She’d have been twenty-one this year. Just a wee lass who would never …
A sigh built deep in his chest, but David stilled it. The crew all felt the loss, and they needed him to be strong. They had lost the capital of their empire, and a few days later, the world Sentinel officers trained on. And no one knew where the Angels would strike next.
David heard the whispers, when the crew thought he wasn’t listening. The questions they raised about capitulation. About surrender. The questions he asked himself late at night, when he sat alone on his bunk. In the Conduit, he tried to reach for answers. And the only answers he found lay in fire. The Angels had returned to a universe changed, and their wrath had shaken the foundations of all societies.
All he could do for now was try to find Rachel. Maybe he couldn’t protect Mizraim anymore. Maybe the Angels had destroyed all he stood for. But the woman he loved was out there.
“Hail the Anthem,” he said.
“Channel open,” Kennison said.
“This is the Sentinel battleship Wheel of Law. Please respond.”
A moment later, an Icie woman appeared on the holo display. She was young, maybe twenty-five, and had hair dyed pale green. “Captain?”
“Degana O’Malley?” At her curt nod, he continued. “I’m here to see Rachel Jordan.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Aye, I’m sure. Please tell me the lass didn’t go down to that planet. I must see her, this is urgent.”
A second later, Rachel stepped into view, hand on Degana’s shoulder. “What do you want, Mac?”
“You, lass. Come back over here.”
“So you can throw me in the brig? Not likely.”
David scratched his head. He almost told her if he wanted her in the brig there wasn’t a damn thing the Anthem could do to stop him, but he bit his tongue. “Look, Rach. I know a lot of things got said that maybe shouldn’t have been. But a lot of things happened, too.”
“I … heard.” Rachel clenched her jaw and looked away. She’d been born on New Rome. All she’d known had been there. David had dared hold out hope she hadn’t heard over the Mazzaroth, that he could break it to her gently. As if such news could ever be delivered with tact. As if there was a good way to tell someone they had lost their entire planet.
“Please come aboard, Rach. I have to see you, talk to you in private.”
She folded her arms. “Then why don’t you come aboard the Anthem?”
Stubborn as a bloody mule. Fine. He’d play her game. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
He hurried from the bridge, pointedly ignoring the look Phoebe gave him on the way out. Minutes later, the ships docked, and he crossed through the airlock.
The Anthem’s airlock let out into a hold, one nearly empty. Normally, cargo or passengers might crowd a ship like this. Knowing the Seekers—or at least what little he knew of them—they probably chose solitude over profit. Of course, Angels knew what kind of future the group would have. Not much point in seeking Eden once it had been found.
Rachel descended a staircase ahead, clearly trying to keep her expression blank. And failing. He might n
ot have been much of an empath, but he could read the tension in her steps. Rachel had always longed for someone to understand her. To see her view of the universe and accept it. Maybe it was finally time.
The distance between them vanished before he knew he was running. And he threw his arms around her. It wasn’t the time for posturing or recriminations.
“I love you, lass. Always have, always will. Everything else is just … just shite. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I know you were trying to follow your heart and all.”
She pressed her head against his shoulder. “It tends to get me in trouble.”
“Just a wee bit, aye.”
“New Rome is …”
It was gone. He had met her there, at Testament Flight School. He had thought one day they would retire on the planet together. He could have found work teaching at NRU—assuming he decided to do anything. The Sentinels would have paid him a pension for life.
“Rachel, the Sanhedrin were on the planet.”
“What? What do you mean? Are you saying the entire government is …?”
David ran his fingers through her hair. “The Tabernacle escaped, but it’s missing. Could be the Ark already hunted it down, too. The Sentinel captains are acting mostly on their own. Some are still fighting against Asherah, throwing their lives away because they don’t know what else to do.”
Rachel sighed. “This war with Asherah only serves to divide mankind. We have to bury the enmity between us.”
Easier said than done. Centuries of bloodshed, hatred, and mutual isolation had created an intergalactic rift between the two factions. Why did it not surprise him Rachel wanted to bridge that rift? She always aimed high.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN
Elation is about the only word I could come up with … the only word that might describe my sensation on realizing David had come for me. For me. Just as he had done on Gehenna. Maybe I was the one who was blind to the things right in front of me.
The Asheran transport sat waiting by a Conduit Gate just inside the Expanse. Her captain would go no farther. It seemed even in the Confederacy, they had horror stories about the deeps of the Expanse. Which was fine, since this was where Apollo had told him to wait.
The ship featured an observation dome just above the bridge that reminded him a bit of the conference room on Sepharvaim. He never should have left that planet. Its brilliant blue forests. Its warm summer breezes. Its total lack of people trying to kill him.
Instead, Caleb sat in a chair under the dome, chewing his thumb and stewing in the mess he’d made for himself. Before him, the Conduit Gate opened. Looking into it was like looking into an endlessly folding tunnel of every color imaginable. It swayed and shimmered, a rainbow doorway to heaven. And from that doorway emerged a demon—a slender ship covered in cobbled-together protrusions. Lances stuck out from it in all directions, as if someone had crossbred a snake and a porcupine.
Caleb rose. Sons of bitches probably built that thing to intimidate. Well, he supposed it worked. He trod down to the airlock. The Asherans would know what to do. All he had to worry about was what the damn pirates wanted.
Asheran mercenaries formed up around him, MAG rifles leveled at the airlock as it began to open. A trio of men stepped out, the lead of which had a cybernetic patch over his left eye. It shone with eerie red light. Probably a targeting system. The pirates were cyborgs … Which made sense why they were working with Asherah and Apollo.
“I am Caleb Gavet.”
The lead pirate, Eyepatch Boy, stepped forward. He was an Icie, and young, though the implants and scars made him look older. Caleb wouldn’t put it past such a man to inflict the injuries on himself. After all, nanobot regenerators would have healed the damage—unless he wanted the scars.
“Captain Ezra Dana of the Serpent, at your service. Come aboard, Mr. Gavet. There’s work to be done.”
Caleb glanced over his shoulder at the Asheran mercenaries. One of them shrugged.
Damn Apollo. Damn him for sending Caleb to these punks beyond the edges of civilization. Damn him for starting this mess. Damn him for breathing. What was that bastard’s long game? Why send Caleb out here to deal with more minions? Did Apollo truly need him, or was it just a way to keep him in line, to prove who held the power?
Truth was, it didn’t matter. Until he found a way out from Apollo’s grasp, he’d have to do as he was told, and pray the Asheran would save them all from the Angels. Trade one oppressor for another. Caleb nodded, and followed Ezra back to the Serpent.
The pirate ship was organized as a single long corridor with side rooms all the way, leading up to the bridge. The segments were flexible, allowing the ship to sway like a snake or dragon—easy to see where they’d gotten the name. There was no mechanical advantage—at least not that he could see—to having the flexible segments, so it had to be pure aesthetics. He was dealing with children caught up in their own sense of self importance. They were insects in the greater scope of the universe—insects pretending to be gods.
A year ago, these men would have intimidated Caleb. A year ago, the universe had been a different place. He almost laughed. Rachel Jordan had made the universe a place no one would even recognize.
“What’s this mission?”
Ezra waved him onto the bridge. It was cramped, and had room for only three officers, so Caleb had to stand behind the captain’s chair when Ezra sat.
“There’s an abandoned Angel station out near the Great Attractor. We’re meant to destroy it before they can reactivate the thing and use it against us.”
Caleb chuckled, briefly, until he realized the Icie was serious. “Kid, do you have any idea how far away the Great Attractor is? It’s not even in the Local Group. How the void would we get there?”
“Apollo gave us Conduit routes to travel out there.”
A chill settled over his spine, and he found himself actually leaning forward on the chair. Not even a man with connections in the Asheran military should have that information. No human should, unless the Asherans were far more advanced than he gave them credit for.
The known Conduit routes carried mankind all over the Local Group. Some thirty galaxies in the Virgo Supercluster that the Angels had seeded with human civilization. But the Great Attractor was … what, in the Hydra-Centaurus Supercluster? Two hundred million light years away.
Caleb was no astrophysicist, but even he knew about the Attractor. It exerted enough gravity to have the mass of ten thousand galaxies or more. Some people said it was the greatest black hole in the universe. Others speculated it was God himself. Of course, in three thousand years since the Exodus, no human had ever found a way there.
And the Angels had a station? To do what? Harness that kind of energy? Assuming it was even possible, anything that created gravity on that scale … Well, the power would be limitless. A Singularity Drive on a ship was usually less than a meter across, and it could power an entire warship. So if the Angels could harness a singularity—if that’s what it was—a million light years across … They should be able to do anything. Reshape the universe itself.
Was it possible Apollo was right? It no longer mattered how the Asheran knew so much about the Angels. All that mattered was stopping them. Caleb couldn’t allow them to reactivate such a station. It would mean the end of any resistance to the Angelic hegemony.
However long it took, he was going to save the universe.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
February 1st
I asked Degana to come aboard the Wheel, but she wouldn’t leave her ship. It was her home, and I cannot blame her. Still, I have missed our afternoon tea times and long talks. Maybe something was missing from my life … Quiet friendship without demands or duties or sexual tension. I have set myself aside from other people, and in doing so, I may have paid a higher price than I first imagined. Either way, I’ve called her five times since our parting, and not once with anything noteworthy to discuss.
The Wheel of Law had not li
ngered at Eden. The truth was, Rachel had begun to lose hope of establishing a long-term colony there. Every test she’d conducted, even working with the Sentinels in the system, indicated the psychic disturbance would be too great for any Psych to tolerate. Worse, even Norms seemed affected if they spent much time on the planet. They were less aware of what was happening to them, but they clearly began suffering some symptoms. Paranoia, irritability, sleeplessness.
The psychic ghosts left behind had tainted humanity’s homeworld beyond redemption. At least that was her fear. So instead, she had gone with David to assist in evacuations. All major planets were being dispersed. Refugees fled to the farthest reaches of the inhabitable universe, to any world remotely terraformed. The farther from major population centers the better. No one knew where the Angels would strike next.
Their attacks had been seemingly random, targeting Mizraim and Asherah equally. But they always targeted heavily populated, well defended areas. As if to prove how truly helpless mankind was against their assault. To demoralize everyone into accepting their rule once again. As the Adversary had done before them.
The tactics were so eerily similar, Rachel caught herself wondering again if the Adversary was an imaginary force made up by the Angels in order to subjugate humanity in the first place. She’d seen the record of a ship like the Ark—chased off, but never destroyed.
And so she found herself back in the isolation wing of the brig—the one place she might get answers.
“Are you certain, lass?” David asked her. He had returned her uniform and commission, and pretended like she had taken only a leave of absence. It seemed easier to play along.