by JB Penrose
“You and I may have different reasons for finding the Aurora, but it’s time you set aside your petty jealousy of John Reider. I don’t want you shooting off any more rockets. We’re here to confirm their launch out of this atmosphere, and to stop anyone who might want to keep that from happening.” Iscar glared at him. “If the crew of the Aurora doesn’t leave Earth, the Spokesmon’s plan will be compromised, and that’s going to affect more than just your own little country.”
Frank shrugged and lit another cigarette. He’d be fine as long as he got the power and money Iscar had promised. He lifted a nylon bag from a hook and began collecting the riggings he wanted. Tape, chalk, Frank tossed everything into the bag; glad his calluses were still tough enough for climbing. It’s difficult to stay in shape living the city life, but he searched for gyms that challenged him physically. Frank knew getting soft would get him killed.
“We’ve got everything you’ll need at the campsite,” Iscar said. He confirmed a location on the computer screen with Gabriel and Gideon, and folded the computer screen back into the table’s finish. “You won’t need that climbing equipment.”
“You can never have enough of these DAT sticks.” Frank tossed them in the bag and chose his personal rigging before he zipped it closed and hoisted it to his shoulder. He knew they watched his every move.
“Morrow, you’re the pilot.” Iscar told him and started for the door. “Gideon will handle the communications board and Gabriel will handle the radar. We’re looking for anyone coming in, as well as anything leaving.”
Frank bristled at the directive, but he held his tongue and climbed into the pilot’s seat. Iscar needed his expertise to fly the rocky abyss. All of their fancy equipment couldn’t penetrate these chasms unless he could get them close enough for the radar to detect the Aurora. But as for the disposition of the ship, Frank would decide what to do after they found it.
Searching for the Aurora was like hide-and-seek. Each time they took a turn in the deep rocky crevasse, he imagined the ship to be hidden there.
“I know they’re here. I can feel them,” Frank said.
“Better set it down for the night before it gets too dark,” Iscar directed him.
“Another pass. I have the feeling it’s close.” Frank was positive.
“Then it’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I can make one more pass before sunset.”
“You can’t see shit in this light,” Iscar told him. “Set this hovercraft down where I told you to!”
Frank’s quick rise from the abyss to the highest canyon ledge caught Iscar off guard, but Iscar rode without another comment. Frank set the craft down just above the location where the Aurora was last mapped on their radar.
Frank opened an outside access on the craft and began a series of diagnostics to avoid even minimal conversation, content to let Gideon and Gabriel move the supplies from the hoverjet and make camp for the night. Dinner was only cold rations; there would be no fire.
Frank set his bedroll along the edge and volunteered for the first watch. The sun set in silence and no one speculated on tomorrow’s outcome.
His sharp eyes paid off. Just after midnight he saw the blue flash of the corporal shroud in the canyon below. The Aurora was hiding beneath an overhang! They might have missed it earlier but he wasn’t going to lose it now. Finally, when Iscar was asleep and his associates were busy changing shifts, Frank sneaked away with most of the climbing gear.
* * *
Mag’Dalyn straightened from her crouch under the console and rubbed her back. “I’m glad that’s done.” She’d been glad to focus on the ship’s repairs; it didn’t give them time for much conversation.
“I’ve still got to connect the main conduit to the port side diffusers,” James said. “Maybe we should stop for breakfast.”
“Or dinner. I don’t know if it’s day or night. I really need a break,” she complained.
“Why don’t you step outside for some air? I’ll make something to eat.” James tossed her the wrist control, a natural move after centuries together.
But tonight Dalyn wasn’t herself, and her thoughts were not on catching electronic equipment. When it fell to the floor, a flash of blue light indicated the de-activation of the corporal shroud.
“Oh, no! I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” She immediately picked up the unit and reactivated the shroud with another blue flash. “Do you think anyone saw it?”
“Who is out there, and what could they see?” James hoped. “It was an accident.” But his face belied his concern. “My bad toss. We can only pray no one was looking.”
* * *
It was just before dark when Peter and Rachel arrived at the church. Sunlight disappeared through stained glass windows, and the lobby darkened quickly. Peter knew exactly where he was going and took Rachel into the library through a service hallway. “Even with my eyes closed I could name every subject on every aisle. Have you been here before?”
“Only for occasional Sunday services,” she said. “Mostly holidays. I didn’t usually attend the same church for a long period of time.”
Peter nodded. “I felt the same way after St. Peter’s was completed. The first time,” he laughed.
“Did you really build it?” Rachel pointed to the framed architectural sketches of the cathedral in the Vatican City.
“I didn’t want to build it at all, but after the decision was made I helped with the design and construction. There is much in the structure that’s not shown in the sketches, especially after each reconstruction. There are chambers and halls known only to us, and treasures of untold historical value.”
“It’s beautiful, still.”
“It’s difficult to contain the premise of a religion in the confines of a building. It grew out of proportion so fast there was no stopping it, and very little chance to give direction.”
“What we need to affect is what’s in peoples’ heart.”
“That’s what religion should be doing now.”
A Kerroon painting caught her eye. He’d walked her by it on purpose, and smiled when she stopped to investigate.
Friends at Work the painting was titled, showing John, Andrew, and her father with the other Apostles, working on their boat on the shores of Galilee. Jesus stood at the shoreline and crowds of people filled the back of the picture. In the setting she recognized Peter. Although bearded and with longer hair of the times, it was certainly a self-portrait.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit obvious to leave pictures of yourselves around like this?” she asked.
“Obvious to you, maybe. There’s always been a trail of our activities, just no one who lived long enough to follow it. In two thousand years we’ve accomplished much and still managed to stay somewhat undiscovered.”
“And no one ever got suspicious?”
“Some did. Nostradamus asked some questions. We had students who we helped with their discoveries,” Peter told her. “Copernicus, Galileo, Leonardo daVinci was a good student - with some great ideas of his own. Einstein, and others.”
“It’s much harder to work alone for centuries,” Rachel rued, “but it’s easier to hide your identity that way.”
The library would close soon and they took care to stay out of sight, stalling until the last person left the room. He checked to be sure that they were alone.
“There’s something else they haven’t discovered after all these years.” Peter put his hand over an invisible sensor and Rachel realized a sonic pitch had been interrupted. The bookcase beside them sprung loose and Peter pushed it open.
“After you,” he motioned to the entrance.
She gathered her skirt around her and slipped behind the wall into a small corridor. When the door was secure, the hidden corridor automatically lit dimly at the baseboard.
“It really helps to have been the architect of many of these old churches.” Peter led her through the corridors and closed chambers with familiarity, up stairs and around several turns
before they stopped midway in the hall. Rachel was completely lost.
Peter used a peephole she couldn’t even see, and nodding with satisfaction he activated another palm scanner. The wall slid aside and she was momentarily blinded when the room lights brightened.
“Who’s there? What are you doing here?” Lucas Jackson rose from behind his desk. A letter opener slipped defensively into his hand.
“Good evening, Your Eminence.” Peter’s voice was calm, natural, and he stepped forward for the Cardinal to identify him.
“Professor Kerroon? Is that you, Peter?” He relaxed and came forward to greet them. “And Ms. Bolton? I have always suspected these walls held secrets.”
Peter stepped through first and greeted the Cardinal with a hug. Rachel forced her feet to follow him, unsure of the quiver building in her chest. Crossing the threshold was like falling into an abyss. Her heart raced and faintness fell over her like a net.
“What’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.” Peter caught her in his arms.
“I feel strange.”
“Good strange or bad strange? I think you’re glowing,” Peter noted.
Rachel shook her head, unsure of the answer herself. Her vision had flashes around the edges, and she tried to ignore the tingling sensation in her fingertips. Her voice was a whisper. “Natural, but not myself.”
Cardinal Jackson steered them toward the large chair behind his desk and Peter let her sink into it slowly. He sat beside her on the edge of the desk. “Are you alright, dear?”
She nodded, trying to reassure them. Her body felt electric; maybe it was herself she was trying to reassure. “Maybe I could trouble you for some water?”
“Of course. I could have something brought in, if you’d like something to eat.”
“That’s not necessary. Water will be fine.” She reached for the ceramic pitcher on the desk, but it felt like lead in her hands, too heavy to lift.
The Cardinal took it from her and poured clear liquid into the crystal glass Rachel held.
“What? What is this?” Lucas Jackson stopped pouring when he realized that wine filled the glass where water had come from the pitcher. He looked inside the container in question, then sat, befuddled, in the closest chair.
“Rachel?” Peter sounded just as amazed.
Rachel peered into her own glass; there was no mistaking the red wine where water had just been poured, and lifting it to her lips she tasted the contents. With an odd recollection, she thought it tasted like the Rocroi vineyard. She smiled at both of them.
“Please don’t make much of this,” she toasted him with her glass. “I don’t think I’m in control of anything.”
Lucas cocked his head toward Rachel. “I admit I recognized something special when I met you, my dear. But this, well, I don’t know what to say.”
“Lucas, Rachel is Roko.” Peter explained.
“You mean the prodigal daughter has come home?” Lucas rose joyously knelt on bended knee in front of her. “I serve family above all on Earth,” he told her. “Your mother is my mother, and therefore we are family.”
“Then get up and hug me,” she said playfully. “I’ll have none of this ceremony. Mother sends her love.”
She managed to stand for Lucas’ embrace. His love flowed into her like a pledge, and she knew there would be a time when she would count on him heavily.
“Thank you, Lucas,” Rachel sat back to compose herself. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“I’m a bit surprised by your visit. Are you in trouble? I know the Aurora has launched.”
“You know of that?” Peter smiled at the Cardinal’s resources.
“Donnally keeps me posted,” the Cardinal smiled. “Are you trying to rejoin them?”
“No. Rachel and I have decided to stay behind. But John and the crew are in trouble,” Peter explained. “The Aurora was damaged. Right now, they are covertly seeing to its repairs.”
Peter took the disk Gail had given them out of his pocket and passed it to Lucas. “President Wilson is being misled. We have proof Frank Morrow is behind the sabotage, but we have to get the truth out. Morrow has a security watch posted for both of us - hence our disguise. But our concern is for the Aurora’s crew and the certain danger they are in.”
“I’ve heard the rumors about John, but surely no one believes he murdered the President-elect and Mrs. Young.”
“Nor should they. But again, your connections may be necessary. The real murderer, a dangerous agent named Jude Iscar, works for Morrow, and Morrow - works for President Wilson.”
“You don’t think the President is involved?”
“No, we don’t,” Peter assured him. “But we need your help to get the truth to President Wilson so the Aurora can leave safely when the repairs are complete.”
“Of course! I’ll place the call immediately. And I know some other people that might want to see what you’ve got on the BGA Director.”
“Does Morrow know what you are? Who you really are?”
“We don’t think so, but his agent, Iscar, most certainly knows. He’s one of us, known to you as Judas Iscariot.”
The Cardinal tried to hide his disbelief at not knowing this before. “Judas was an alien, too?”
“Is an alien,” Peter said. “Obviously, a very dangerous one given his recent bombing attacks at the Conference and the Aurora. None of us have been in real contact with him for several hundred centuries.” Peter took a breath. “You’ll have to keep Iscar’s identity out of this.”
“For obvious reasons.” Lucas shook his head in amazement. “There’s more that I want to know, Peter. But let me make some arrangements first.” He stood, the infodisk twirling between his fingers. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started on this.” He opened the door and called out. “Michael!”
“Sir?” A smiling young man with red-hair and freckles appeared at the doorway. He wore a priests collar, not a robe, and not a jacket. His smile turned to surprise seeing strangers in the room. “How? Who? Sir, I didn’t . . . ”
“Never mind. It’s quite alright.” He brought his aide into the room and closed the door. “This is Father Dulles,” he introduced him. “You can trust him implicitly. And Michael, this is Professor Kerroon and Sister, ah, Bolton. You won’t always see them in this clothing, but I would ask that you serve them as you have me.”
Rachel pushed against the arms of the chair but the motion only happened in her mind. “Pardon me for not getting up. It’s nice to meet you.” The young man shook their hands and bowed respectfully, all the while glancing at Rachel. Lucas handed the disk to Michael.
“Please, get this to Judge Roccelia right away. Insist to the Judge that he review the information as soon as possible, but it’s not necessary to wait for an answer.”
“Yes sir.” Michael slipped the disk into his breast pocket. “It’s getting late. Should I have the kitchen send up some dinner?”
The Cardinal smiled. “Thank you, yes. Something to eat would be nice, and,” he looked over his shoulder for their request.
“-Coffee!” Rachel and Peter said in unison.
Rachel took the opportunity to change back into the sweatsuit she’d worn since yesterday morning and wondered when she’d have a chance to pick something from her own closet again.
The three of them talked non-stop through the night and Michael kept the coffee fresh.
Peter leaned forward in his chair. “Right now we need a grand scheme to keep Iscar away from the Aurora. He probably knows every move the ship is making.”
Lucas shook his head. “How would he know where to find it when no one else could?”
“We already have the proof that Morrow is working with Iscar,” Peter said, “although they may not be working toward the same goal. The BGA is crawling all over PROBE-Tech.”
“I hate to think of someone like that working with one of the Apostles.” He grimaced. “I can’t believe I just said that. I can’t believe I’m working with one of th
e Apostles!”
“You’ve worked with more than one of us,” Peter reminded him. “But right now, the Aurora isn’t safe until we find Morrow, and Iscar.”
* * *
After eating Gail reluctantly agreed to try and sleep, but she wouldn’t go farther than the couch. She hardly realized she’d dozed when Andrew woke her with a light touch to her shoulder and offered her a cup of coffee.
“It smells great. Thanks.” She sat up and smoothed her hair. “Have I been asleep long?”
“Only an hour or two. How do you feel?”
“Refreshed. I'm ready to go.”
“Almost.” He wore a loose, silver jumpsuit, and handed something identical to her. “You can wear this over your clothes if you like.”
Too embarrassed to show her excitement, she slipped into the bathroom to get ready. The fabric kept her neither hot nor cold, but comfortable. Her boots were a woven vinyl and fit her feet like leather. The detailed tread pattern on the sole had a unique grip when she walked.
“I guessed at your shoe size,” Andrew said when she emerged. “If they’re not comfortable we can replicate another pair.”
“These are replicated?” Gail admired her footwear again. “They fit like a glove.”
John reached for the laptop. “Let me go over what we’ve planned.”
For the first time since she arrived, Gail realized she was heading into danger. It was a different kind of danger than she felt around Rachel and Peter. Not that she was afraid. She felt invincible, and she was sure John and Andrew could handle anything that came up.