Heather released a sigh of relief. She had not realized she had been holding her breath when Campbell was in the room with her. She wrapped her arms around her torso and slumped down onto the ground to sit on her heels. The noise in the room remained lower than the hum of bees in a hive. No one in the room dared to offer her any comfort or support; they were all either angry with her for her screw up or afraid of incurring Campbell’s wrath if they showed sympathy. Heather just sat there hunched on the ground, rocking on the balls of her feet and breathing. At the moment, it was all she knew how to do.
She had no idea of the level of emotional and mental exhaustion she would be required to endure when she agreed to this assignment. Three years ago, all she had wanted was to get out of the LTZ, to get away from the outskirts of civilization so she could enjoy the privileged life of an Olympian. She had thought she got lucky when Campbell appeared outside her apartment in the LTZ and recruited her as an operative. However, sitting outside the sensory deprivation tank, when she was just Heather and not an agent, all she had found was the loneliness of secrecy.
As helpless and alone as she felt, her choices were limited. She could complete her mission, or the life she built would be over. She stood and took a deep, bracing breath, and walked over to a console. Entering a series of codes, a display appeared, showing her a menu of available units that were ready for deployment. She selected the model identical to the one she had just lost, and entered her username, Gabriella, into the login prompt. It was her favorite. She felt graceful and powerful when she was in control of this avatar, so unlike how she felt in her own skin. She linked the harness of the unit to her sensory chamber.
She turned from her console and caught several pairs of eyes in the room darting away from her. A wave of shame came over her as she registered the pity in their eyes. First shame, then loathing. They did not have an inkling of the exhilaration she felt when she was connected to her agent, and they could not fathom the emptiness she lived with when she was herself. Her agent could dispose of every man and woman in that room within minutes. She was vulnerable before them now, but once she was coupled to her agent, they would be the vulnerable ones.
Heather glared at them all with contemptuous superiority as she returned to her open sensory tank. She climbed in and slipped down into the warm water. The interface connected automatically to the ports along her spine and skull as she lay herself down. Once the connection was complete, the chamber lid closed slow enough to give a final glance at the merciless eyes watching her. The bliss she always felt when connected enveloped her, bringing a smile of ecstasy to her lips. She did not know it on a conscious level, but this was her own addiction, an intense addiction to which few people could relate.
As her mind drifted away of her own body and cares, she linked to the controls of the agent. She exulted in the strength of its muscles, the sharpness of its reflexes, and the acuity of its vision.
The body of the new Gabriella sat up on the bed and looked around. She was back in the barracks, a place familiar to her and others like her. Other Angels surrounded her. Some assembled in small groups, staring into space. Others were lying down on beds like the one she occupied.
One male Angel, who she recognized as her partner Aban, approached and stood beside her bed. He gazed down at her, holding out a piece of black cloth that looked like a towel with legs. She took it and began to put it on underneath the white sheet that draped from a hole around her neck. In moments, she felt the familiar sensation of the uniform clinging to every feature of her body. She took in a deep breath as she felt the exhilaration of the agent’s sensitive skin.
The one who gave her the clothing was also dressed in the black uniform of an agent. She looked into his eyes. “How’s the new interface working, Cross?” she asked with a coy smile.
He half-grinned back. “I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s just not the same,” he answered with a shrug. “Everything is working just fine, but it just doesn’t feel right. Humph. Maybe it’s just all in my head.” He laughed at his own joke. She gave him a mischievous, understanding grin.
Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Campbell walking through the room. He glanced over and gave her a withering look, warning her with his eyes of the precarious situation in which she found herself. She had no doubts if she failed her mission, she would have to pay the ultimate price.
“Let’s get going,” she said to her partner. Without another word, they pulled their hoods over their heads and ran out of the room to the exit only they had authorization to use.
They descended a stairwell into the sublevels and followed the maze of tunnels underneath the building until they came out in the mechanical crawlspace under a maglev platform. They moved among the shadows until they positioned themselves above the platform, waiting for the next train to approach. This was their favorite perch, and the location enabled them to hitch a ride without catching the eye of common citizens. As the maglev approached, they prepared themselves to jump down onto the train and stow away in the mechanical space above the engine compartment.
The lights of the train came into view down the tracks. She stole a quick glance at the large, colossal structure rising into the sky above the platform. It never failed to astound her. Ever since she was a small child visiting the Cathedral with her mother, she was awestruck at the magnificent edifice. She had no idea at the time how her life would change because of the building and what it represented. At least, what she thought it represented. The building that once represented her salvation was now her prison. Words failed to express the degree to which her life had changed in the three years since her recruitment.
The train slowed to a stop. Citizens moved in and out of the train cars as the station announcement resonated overhead: “Welcome to the Central Cathedral Station.” She and her partner jumped down onto the train and slunk toward their hiding spot for the next segment of their journey.
She caught a glimpse of Campbell walking across the square right out of the front doors. “What a joke,” she thought to herself. People, not knowing who he really was, would think he was just another visitor or even a worshipper. However, they would never know the truth. She did not even understand the whole picture. One thing she knew with certainty. There would be no telling how the general population would react if they knew of the truth of what she had learned in the days after Campbell recruited her.
The maglev whirred to life and began to slide away from the station. The agents securely hidden away, they headed back into the LTZ to pick up the trail of Evangeline Evans and the Dissidents.
FORTY-NINE
Jack and Felicia had been travelling for a few hours when the refuse vehicle reached the outskirts beyond the LTZ. The next leg of their journey included a ride in the windowless cargo hold of a smaller transport vehicle. The only accommodations for sitting were metal benches suspended underneath the storage racks along the sidewalls. Felicia, almost as if by routine, placed her small pack at the end of one of the benches and laid down, propping her head against her pack.
Jack followed her example and sat down on the opposite bench. He tipped sideways when the transport shifted into gear and pulled forward. He caught his balance with one hand against the bench and the other hand grabbing onto the shelf over his head. A few minutes into the journey, he gave in and let gravity pull his body down to rest on the cold, metal bench. He tried in vain to rest, but his mind was racing with thoughts of Evangeline’s level of safety. He massaged the bridge of his nose in an attempt to get past his exhaustion enough to sleep.
By the glimpse of sky he had caught moving from one transport to the next, it was the early morning hours before dawn. Jack had nodded off for a few minutes at a time in the back seat of the refuse transport, but each shift in direction or bump in the road startled him awake, like tipping backwards in a chair.
He was losing hope that Gideon had found a lead on Evangeline in the few hours since he had rushed out of his home. The silent communicat
or in his pocket revealed nothing, good or bad.
He ceased rubbing his face when his eyes caught the blurred image of Felicia reading a book. He pulled a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on to make certain his tired eyes were not playing tricks on him. He had only ever seen one other person reading a physical book in lieu of reading from a display or tablet.
The tattered and worn book looked like it had been dropped in the mud, bitten by a dog and stored in a knife drawer. The spine showed the signs of repeated use to the point that the printed title was illegible. The pockmarked cover bore the image of an ancient man and woman sitting in an austere pose. It did not have the same signs of age as a few of Evangeline’s acquisitions over the years. Jack guessed someone printed and bound the book sometime in the last ten years. He and Evangeline had seen similar objects among the antique stores they enjoyed browsing on lazy days off.
“What are you reading?” Jack asked. His interest was genuine. Evangeline’s love of books had fueled his own fascination with printed material.
Felicia looked up from her book. Jack had sat back up on the bench and had put on his most non-threatening smile that he could muster. It was not Jack’s night to win ladies over with charming smiles. His fatigue made his smile look more like a leer, and his natural social awkwardness made him come across as a creepy stalker who had run into his quarry in a club.
The uneasy expression on Felicia’s face told him enough - the smile was not working in his favor. The wary look in her eyes gave him the distinct impression that she could kill him in less time than it would have taken to answer his simple question. However, a few seconds after the question had escaped his lips, her face softened from the stern demeanor she had held since they had met.
“Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. It was written before the Great Recovery,” she answered with a spark in her eyes. “Have you read it?” Jack was surprised by this sudden turn in her mood. He made a mental note that discussing antique books was a sure way to get on Felicia’s good side.
“No,” replied Jack, feeling embarrassed. “I just noticed you were reading a printed book, and not digital. The only other person I’ve ever known to read paper books is my wife. Even my family in the LTZ only read from a display. She picked up the habit from her parents. It’s a pretty expensive hobby!” He was relieved at the upswing in his mood.
Felicia’s face went dark and she furrowed her brows. “It’s a hobby that more people should take more seriously!” she snapped. She hid her face behind the frayed pages again.
Several awkward minutes passed. Felicia’s eyes darted between Jack and the pages of her book, while Jack studied the book’s cover in an clumsy attempt to be casual. She huffed out a breath and sat up, digging around in her pack.
“I have another one if you’d like to make better use of your time than just staring at me,” she said, retrieving another book from her pack. She held it out an arm’s length in front of her and waited for Jack to take it.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching out with a slow hand. He was wary from her sudden mood swings and was not sure if the book was a peaceful offering or a trap that would cut off his fingers the moment he touched it. He had seen what Felicia had done to the Angel - he would not put such a tactic past her.
He could make out the faded image of a cartoonish robot on the worn cover. He opened it to the title page.
“Isaac Asimov’s Selected Works,” Jack muttered under his breath.
Jack had heard of Asimov from his days at the academy. He remembered the lectures on how Asimov had written the three laws of robotics and created the rules of artificial behavior. The rules that, according to his stories, prevented robots from causing harm to human beings.
In all his years at the academy, he had never read any of Asimov’s stories. He never understood the value of such ancient tales until he married Evangeline and she introduced him to a love of the printed word.
Felicia had returned her attention to her own book while Jack had sat on the bench visiting his memories.
“We still have another few hours to go. It’ll help you pass the time,” she said with a smirk on her face. “It was once said that people learn by doing, watching, and reading. So, you might actually learn something from it,” she finished, glancing at the book in his hands.
Jack looked up from the book and was surprised to see she was smiling at him. The kind of smile that indicated he was not in on her joke. With little else to occupy his frantic mind, he leaned back against the headwall of the transport and opened the book to the first story.
FIFTY
“Like I’ve already said,” Kevin said with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders, “there’s no means of communication in or out of here. We can’t afford to let any signals be triangulated to our position. But, I assure you, your husband is in good hands. One of our best people went to check on him once it seemed necessary to bring you in.”
Evangeline could not hide the worry etched across her face. She had not spoken with Jack since she left their home to go visit Daryl in the Crisis Unit. “I’m just so worried about him, B.B.,” she whispered. “Jack’s not a soldier, he’s a programmer. He invents games, creates holographic children, he doesn’t know any self-defense. What if your soldier didn’t get there in time? What if he died because of something I got mixed up in? I could never forgive myself.”
Evangeline felt as helpless as a paper boat in a hurricane. In the dark recesses of her mind, she wondered if she should have denied herself the allure of Jack’s boyish charms. She felt cursed. The man she adored with her entire soul may have fallen victim to dire circumstances because of her ill-fated life. She wondered if she had denied herself the joyous future she saw in Jack’s eyes, would he have spent the last few years oblivious to her existence, but safe in a life untainted by her damned life.
She blinked the moisture building under her eyes back into her sockets and picked up the small wheat muffin from her tray. Picking at it, to give herself something to do, she ate the muffin one crumb at a time. Kevin sat across a small table from her, eating his own breakfast and watching Evangeline after every other bite for signs of her mental condition.
Evangeline and Kevin were in a mess hall of sorts, seated at a table against the sidewall while they ate their breakfast. Until Kevin had offered her something to eat, Evangeline had not noticed how hungry she was. She had been so preoccupied with worry over Jack that her mind glossed over every one of her physical needs.
The ham and fried eggs with diced melon on her plate revived her mind and body. She half-listened to Kevin telling the story of his alleged death and resurrection. He had been on a routine patrol in the northwest LTZ near the textile district when he responded to reports of a dirigible that had crashed several miles short of its landing platform. He and his wingman were the closest units available, so they had flown over to assess the situation and render assistance if needed.
“I would have told you all this in person, but you had been on your first off world assignment for about a year. I couldn’t risk sharing any of this with you in an unsecured transmission, and given your history in the eyes of Olympus, I couldn’t risk sending you an encrypted data stream.”
Evangeline absently sipped her orange juice, nodding at certain parts of Kevin’s story.
“What I found out there fundamentally changed my entire belief system,” he said, staring off into space, lost in the memory.
The look on Kevin’s face, a combination of awe and horror, pushed everything further than their small table away from Evangeline’s attention.
“I don’t know if you ever knew this,” he added, “but before I tested for the TRTV program I considered a life in the ministry; to spread the teachings of the Angels.”
Evangeline’s memory flashed to the religion that had developed after the arrival of the Angels, but would have never guessed that B.B. had considered making it his life’s work.
A caravan of a few thousand Angels
had escaped their world, light-years away, from enslavement by a sect of their brothers who no longer adhered to the teachings of their faith. The dark sect desired for power and wealth over the welfare of their people.
Although the Angels had arrived from a distant world, they were nothing like the science fiction aliens created by literature and the entertainment industries. Angel refugees considered themselves blessed to have found Earth, a place inhabited by their spiritual brothers and sisters, a place where they would be free to live by the teachings of their faith. They taught that their entire purpose for existence was to serve all others created by God, both Angel and Human. All they asked for was a place where they could live out their days in the service of their God.
The Angels never spoke of their home world in great detail, but they did share that it had endured long periods of cloud cover. The lack of direct sunlight resulted in their skin pigmentation to fade and disappear, giving them the pale skin, white hair, and blue eyes known to their race.
The Humans of Olympus, on the other hand, had once consisted of various ethnicities, ranging in skin tones, hair, and eye color. After centuries of inter-breeding, the predominant features of Humans were a medium brown skin tone, hazel eyes, and medium brown hair. There were still variations in the levels of pigmentation, but for the most part the ancient genetic divisions of the so-called races had long since disappeared out of the necessity for repopulation.
After the Angels had arrived, and began integrating with Humans, they started to share their religious beliefs with anyone willing to listen. They taught that there was only one God in the universe, and all living beings were created in his image, which explained why Angels bore a strong resemblance to Humans. The variations in gene pools and environments had resulted in the subtle differences in appearance.
Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1) Page 28