Queen of Demons (Chaos of the Covenant Book 7)

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Queen of Demons (Chaos of the Covenant Book 7) Page 27

by M. R. Forbes


  Then he turned back to the transport, waving the others over.

  “It would have been better to slip past them,” Jequn said. “What happens when they’re discovered?”

  “We can hide them there,” Gant said, pointing to a nearby crate. “Void?”

  “On it,” Trinity said.

  She lifted the bodies easily, dumping them over into the bin.

  “There was no way to slip past,” Gant said. “I can explain the calculation to you if you’d like, but we have work to do.”

  Jequn smiled. “I believe you.”

  They turned to move down the corridor, but Trinity put out a hand to stop them.

  “Someone’s coming,” she said.

  “Shitty timing,” Gant replied.

  “Do we fight?” Jequn asked.

  “No,” Gant said. “Pudding, you’re a guard now. The rest of you, into the bin.”

  “With the dead soldiers?” Jequn asked.

  “Afraid so,” Gant replied.

  Phlenel moved to the side of the corridor, her shape changing to match one of the guards. Jequn, Trinity, and Gant climbed into the crate, ducking below.

  Gant lifted his head to peer over it, watching as a contingent of soldiers arrived, escorting Gloritant Thraven at the center. Gant felt a momentary surge of fear and anger. Was Abbey okay? He forced himself to remain still and hidden. She hadn’t contacted them to say she was in trouble, which was supposed to mean she wasn’t.

  Thraven passed Phlenel, glancing over at her as he did. Did the naniate composite know who she was? He probably did. He didn’t say anything or couldn’t say anything. Just because he wasn’t line of sight with Abbey didn’t mean she lost control of him. The way she had described it, the naniates were all linked regardless of distance, and she could exert her will on him from anywhere.

  It was a great trick.

  He continued watching as Thraven returned to the transport, boarding it with the soldiers. They hadn’t put the floor grate back. Would the Gloritant do it for them? Thraven would at least be able to explain it away. Abbey wouldn’t let him give them up.

  They remained where they were until the transport had lifted off the floor of the hangar and turned around, thrusting out into space. They had lost their ride, but hopefully, they wouldn’t need it. Besides, by all accounts, things were going well. Thraven was likely headed to the Gate to oversee those preparations.

  “Let’s go,” Gant said, climbing out of the bin.

  They headed down the corridor, taking as direct a path to the Core as possible. They had to pause a few times while soldiers passed, on the way to who the hell knew where. Things were a little busier than he expected on the Shardship. Were they already making final preparations for their attack on Elysium?

  They made it to one of the Asura passages that descended toward the Core, a small opening the frog-like soldiers had made during the exploration of the ship. They climbed quickly, dropping a number of decks toward the center.

  “I can feel him down here,” Jequn said. “Lucifer. His naniates leak out of him like heat from a star.”

  “Let’s just hope he can’t feel you,” Gant said.

  They made it to the bridges that connected the Core to the rest of the Shardship, pausing one more time to make sure the area was clear. Then they sprinted across the open area, reaching the Core quickly and coming to a stop.

  “Pudding, Void, keep watch,” Gant said. “Cherub, I may need your help with the translation.”

  “Roger,” Trinity said.

  Jequn nodded, following him as they approached the Core. The Covenant’s central nervous system was pulsing more quickly than he had experienced before, more active than usual. He had noticed on their way in how many more weapons batteries had been added to the ship since Lucifer took it. Clearly, he was keeping the Core busy.

  Gant walked toward it, keeping an eye out for guards. He made his way to the control terminal, awkward hands needing extra steps to get it active and ready. Could he figure out how to override the code that had changed Keeper’s protocols?

  He had to. Abbey was counting on him.

  He started manipulating the terminal, cursing when he discovered that the changes had locked his previous access out.

  “The terminal is locked, the passcodes are gone,” he told the others. “Standby.”

  He considered the problem. Keeper had only allowed the Chosen of the Shard to access the terminal before, and Abby had followed up by adding access for him and Uriel with unique passcodes. The virus that had given Lucifer control of Keeper had also overwritten those passcodes. They didn’t have the Chosen anymore, and Lucifer wasn’t going to unlock it for them. So how the frag were they supposed to get in?

  “Gant.”

  Gant turned around. Keeper. It had approached in silence, coming up to them with daggers in hand, completely evading Phlenel and Trinity.

  “I can’t allow you to damage the Core,” Keeper said.

  Gant chittered. He noticed movement behind Keeper. The intelligence hadn’t avoided Trinity after all.

  “Fair enough,” Gant replied. “We can damage you instead.”

  Trinity bounced toward Keeper, slamming into him, knocking him toward Gant. Gant held a knife ready to stab him, but he recovered too quickly, locking his feet to the floor, turning on his ankle and bending impossibly to the side to avoid one of Trinity’s blades. He rocked back, knives flashing, scoring a hit on Trinity’s tough hide.

  She ignored the blow, following up with an attack of her own, wrist blades flashing as Keeper’s limbs moved, deflecting the strikes with ease.

  Jequn joined the fracas, coming at Keeper with a pair of Uin, her motions even faster than Trinity’s. Strike after strike reached for the machine, blades cutting into his liquid metallic form, only to have the damage heal over a moment later. Keeper lashed out with a foot, catching her in the chest and knocking her back.

  Gant sprung into action, taking two quick hops and slipping between Keeper’s legs, cutting into its ankles in an effort to remove its feet. The blades sank deep and forced it to stumble, but it bent over on its hands, flipping upside down and continuing to fight as though it were still upright. It kicked out at Trinity, catching her in the jaw and pushing her back.

  Time. They didn’t have time. Gant growled and pounced at Keeper again, focusing his attack on the left side, forcing Keeper to block his efforts. Jequn moved in from the right as Keeper turned back upright, his liquid metal body transforming and growing a second set of arms. It kept up its defense, blocking some attacks while letting others through, its frame repairing itself in no time regardless of their effort. They had to do something, or this was going to drag out long past the point of usefulness.

  Gant had an idea.

  “Void, Cherub, keep him distracted,” he said over their comm. “Pudding, I want you to slime him.”

  He hoped she knew what he meant, or they were either going to be here forever or tired and dead.

  Trinity hit Keeper from the front, Jequn from the right and Gant from the left. He couldn’t believe the machine was managing to keep up with them, holding them at bay despite their training and effort. It seemed to predetermine every strike, its digital mind judging speed, distance, angle, rotation, and every other factor in every motion of their hands and feet. It was an advantage only an AI like Keeper could have, and if they hadn’t been working together, it would have killed them already.

  Gant took a moment to scan for Phlenel. She was nowhere to be seen, which was a good thing. The distraction was bad. One of Keeper’s blades caught him in the hip, and he yelped as he fell backward to the ground.

  That was when he saw her; a primordial form positioned directly over Keeper. He clutched at his hip with one hand and rolled back to his feet, getting back into the fight to keep the intelligence distracted.

  Keeper knew that he was at a disadvantage, his tactics changing to focus on Gant. They traded a few more blows, and it quickly became obvious to Ga
nt that he couldn’t keep up his defense. What was Phlenel waiting for?

  He bounced back, glancing up again, seeing that Phlenel was almost wrapped in a tendril that had appeared in the ceiling. Her form shifted and moved, trying to escape it as it clutched at her, holding her back from launching her sneak attack.

  Her not-so-sneaky sneak attack. Keeper was an extension of the Core, and the Core had known Phenel was up there. Gant wanted to kick himself for not thinking of that. His mistake was going to cost them the fight, and ultimately the galaxy. Damn it.

  He ducked away from Keeper, eyes flicking back and forth from it to the tendrils attacking Phlenel.

  He had another idea.

  He slipped to the side of Keeper before jumping back, somersaulting in the air. The momentum carried him toward the Core, and he rotated and held his knives out toward it.

  Energy arced out of it at him, hitting him as he approached. It burned his skin, sending waves of pain through his body. It also didn’t stop him. He landed on the Core, the heat of it burning his feet as the blades sank into it.

  The tendrils let Phlenel go, the Core’s attention diverting to immediate protection. It lashed out at Gant again, but he threw himself away, rolling on the ground to put out the embers on his exposed fur.

  Phlenel dropped from the top of the room, landing on Keeper’s head. It reached up to try to remove her, but its hands only sank into her, held tightly there once they did. She sank slowly over the intelligence, solidifying as she did, holding it in place. Within seconds she had enveloped Keeper, locking it up inside her, leaving it coated with a layer of slime.

  Gant stood up, backing away from the Core as it continued to send arcs of energy around itself. He brushed at his burned flesh and limped toward Phlenel, his bleeding hip beginning to hurt.

  “I can’t hack into the Core,” he said, looking at Keeper. “But maybe we can hack into you?”

  Tiny blue flashes pricked at Keeper, the same electrical pulses that had nearly satisfied Gant now being used to probe the intelligence. Keeper shuddered slightly within Phlenel’s ooze, and the Core behind them pulsed more quickly in reaction.

  It took a few tense minutes before Phlenel released Keeper’s head from her grip. The activity of the Core had lessened, as had the number of impulses from Phlenel’s nervous system.

  “Did you get what we need?” Gant asked.

  “Not exactly,” Keeper replied. “I have access to some of the systems in the Core, but I cannot override the protocols completely.”

  “Pudding?” Cherub asked.

  Keeper nodded.

  “It is still trying to kick me out of the subsystems I have cleared. I don’t know how long I can delay.”

  “Weapons systems?” Gant asked.

  “I have access.”

  “What about the Focus?”

  “No.”

  “We need to block Lucifer from using the Focus.”

  “I’m trying. It’s not as tightly bound to the Covenant’s systems. Maybe if you can access it locally, we can work together to disable it?”

  “Roger,” Gant said. “Void, can you give me a ride?”

  Trinity put out her hand, and Gant climbed to her shoulders. “Cherub, stay here and protect Phlenel. We’ll work on the Focus.”

  “Roger,” Jequn said.

  “Hi-ho Silver,” Gant said.

  “What?” Trinity replied.

  “Ancient Earth reference,” Gant said. “Sorry. It seemed appropriate. Let’s go.”

  54

  “You have to be fragging kidding me,” Olus said, his voice an angry hiss. “We were counting on you.”

  “And I was just trying to stay alive,” Uriel replied. “Queenie took my immortality. She promised me she could help get it back, but without the Light, I don’t think there’s anything she can do.”

  “You don’t want to die? I’m going to kill you.”

  Olus reached for Uriel, but Pik got between them. “Hold on,” he said. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “It will only take me a second,” Olus said.

  “Wait,” Uriel said. “So I don’t know how to destroy the Gate. That’s only because I don’t think it can be destroyed. Not completely. But that doesn’t mean we can’t disable it.”

  “I know how to disable it,” Olus said. “Disconnect all of the hosts, and it won’t be able to generate enough power to operate.”

  “But do you know how to disconnect the hosts without killing them?” Uriel asked.

  “Do you?” Olus snapped.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Damn it, maybe I lied slightly about the Gate, but I’m not lying now.”

  “How do we know that?”

  “You don’t.”

  Olus shook his head. “You son of a bitch.”

  The transport shuddered slightly as the Gate’s docking arm clamped onto the side of it. The action caused Olus to fall silent, along with the two hundred Freejects packed inside.

  “It’s fragging time,” Pik said.

  Olus shifted his rifle, looking down at the so-called prisoners. Bastion and Benhil were embedded with them, while Pik, Uriel, and himself were posing as Nephilim guards. The Freejects looked terrified, and he didn’t blame them. If anything went wrong, they were the ones who would be hooked into the Gate, feeding the naniates that would feed the ring, trapped in an endless cycle of suffering.

  Bastion glanced back at him and nodded. Olus was impressed with the pilot’s resolve, especially when he had been such an immature asshole the last time they had crossed paths. Being a Reject had changed the man in a hurry. Or maybe it was because he had such an interest in Abbey?

  The hold was silent, the prisoners still as they waited for the next stage of their delivery. They were all manacled, chained together in two long lines. They kept their heads down, their posture defeated. It was probably easy for the Unders, who had already spent so much of their life this way. If they could defeat Lucifer, if they could win today, they would never have to hang their heads again.

  A soft hiss alerted them that their time had come. A large hatch opened at the back of the hold, revealing the docking corridor beyond. Three squads of Nephilim blacksuits were organized behind a pair of officers in military attire, their posture suggesting they were Venerants and strongly Gifted.

  Uriel met them at the rear. “My Lords,” he said.

  “Organize the supply and take them this way,” one of the Venerants said.

  Olus cringed at the word “supply.” That’s all these individuals were to them. Items to be used. Not for much longer.

  “Move it, scum,” he shouted, playing the part. “On your feet.”

  He shoved at the Freejects closest to him, who reacted almost instinctively, falling into line. Benhil yelled at the prisoners on the other side, and they started marching forward behind Uriel and the rest of the Nephilim.

  They were brought through the docking corridor to a large hold, and from there out into a long, wide corridor. Olus continued alongside the Freejects in silence, making his way to stand beside Bastion.

  “Are we having fun yet?” Bastion whispered.

  “Shh,” Olus replied.

  The second corridor ended shortly afterward, the Freejects winding up in an open room with a large hatch at the end. It vibrated softly and continuously, the thrum of power alive within the walls. Olus could hear the moans from behind the doorway, and he knew they were near the reactors that were going to power the Gate.

  “Bring them forward,” a commanding voice said.

  He knew it immediately. Lucifer had sent Gloritant Thraven to oversee the final integrations. He was flanked by another pair of Venerants, leaving at least four. He scanned the rest of the room. A raised walkway revealed more than enough soldiers to control the slaves if they tried to get out of hand. Were they Converts? Children? Lucifer wasn’t taking any chances that they might become a problem. Then again, Lucifer didn’t know they had Thrave
n on their side.

  “Queenie, we’re in position,” Olus said, passing the signal to Abbey.

  “I said bring them,” Thraven said.

  Uriel glanced back at Olus, a nervous look on his face.

  “Queenie,” Olus said again, waiting for confirmation. Where was she? He shook his head slightly to signal Uriel she hadn’t responded.

  He looked back at the prisoners and then moved forward to retrieve the first of them. A woman. He held her by the arm, guiding her to Thraven. The Gloritant put his hand on her forehead, pushing the Gift into her.

  She immediately fell to the ground. Dead? Passed out? A pair of soldiers stepped in to drag him away.

  “What the hell?” Bastion asked, glaring at Olus.

  Queenie should have answered by now, and Thraven shouldn’t be killing their people.

  “Queenie?” he said a third time, but she still didn’t answer.

  Where the hell was she?

  55

  Abbey screwed up.

  She knew it the moment she had taken a bite of the apple. It was sweet. So damn sweet. It tasted good.

  The Biblical irony wasn’t lost on her.

  She had been trying to keep up her ruse, to act like Lilith would act. Lucifer’s bride wouldn’t come back to him after all of this time and refuse to eat from his table. That would have been suspicious.

  But it seemed Lucifer was already suspicious of her.

  He had drugged her somehow. He had put her into a state of calm that she knew she didn’t want to be in but couldn’t escape from. She had made a decision, the wrong decision, and now their entire plan was falling apart.

  “Queenie, we’re in position,” she had heard Olus say, indicating that they were ready to make their move. She hadn’t responded. She couldn’t respond. She wanted to, but it felt like too much effort. It felt too unimportant.

  “I didn’t know what to expect,” Lucifer said. She was laying on one of the mounds of pillows he had provided. He was standing over her, towering above her. “I had to be prepared. This is too important, and we have waited too long to take any chances.”

 

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