by C. Gockel
Heretic
Archangel Project. Book 3
C. Gockel
C. Gockel
Contents
Heretic
Copyright
Also by C. Gockel
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Contact Info & Other Books
Heretic
The Archangel Project. Book Three
C. Gockel
The day of reckoning is coming …
Commander Noa Sato has almost reached the Kanukah Cloud. Within hours her crew will reach Sol System through a hidden time gate. They won’t just save their own lives—they’ll save millions from genocide at the hands of Luddeccean fanatics … if they make it. The Kanukah Cloud holds dangers of its own, and the Luddeccean Guard is still after them.
If the Ark reaches Sol, Professor James Sinclair will be revealed as the imposter he is. Designed to be the perfect spy, James's love for Noa seems to be the only thing truly his own. But what can love be to an agent of the gates?
When the final confrontation occurs, and the truth of the gates is revealed, James and Noa will have choices to make ... Choices that may divide them forever and lead to the destruction of the human race.
Copyright © 2016 C. Gockel
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, subject “Attention: Permissions,” at the email address below:
[email protected]
Created with Vellum
Also by C. Gockel
The Archangel Project
Carl Sagan's Hunt for Intelligent Life in the Universe: A Short Story
Archangel Down
Noa's Ark
Heretic
I Bring the Fire - an Urban Fantasy/Sci-Fi Series featuring Loki, Norse God of Mischief and Chaos
Wolves: I Bring the Fire Part I (free ebook)
Monsters: I Bring the Fire Part II
Chaos: I Bring the Fire Part III
In the Balance: I Bring the Fire Part 3.5
Fates: I Bring the Fire Part IV
The Slip: A Short Story (mostly) from Sleipnir’s Point of Smell
Warriors: I Bring the Fire Part V
Ragnarok: I Bring the Fire Part VI
The Fire Bringers: An I Bring the Fire Short Story
Atomic: A Short Story
Magic After Midnight: A Short Story
Other Works
Murphy’s Star: a Short Story of First Contact
Acknowledgments
This story wouldn't have been written without the enthusiasm and support of my fans. Among them, I need to give a special shout out for the early readers, the ones who read the first draft and told me what they loved and hated. Thank you so much Kay, Sarah, and Melissa. I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks also to my husband Eric. If he hadn't nagged me to start publishing, this never would have happened.
Chapter One
“Go, Noa!” The archangel’s voice filled Kenji’s chamber.
He touched the playback button on his etherless computer, waited impatiently until it rewound to the correct position, and played again.
“Go, Noa!”
After the archangel had been apprehended on Atlantia, that was what it had implored of Noa. His sister had been safe aboard the Ark; she’d disobeyed. Given Noa's temperament, her ignoring his entreaty was not surprising. But why had the archangel asked that of her? How did it not violate its purpose, and therefore its programming?
Using the keyboard, Kenji clumsily navigated through the archaic interface, clicking through folders, and opening files, until he got to the footage taken at Adam's Station. At the end of the recording, he saw a scene that made his skin go cold, and his hands damp: security personnel firing on Noa as she raced across Adam’s Station’s dock. The premier had insisted she not be harmed, but Adam’s Station’s security was “undisciplined” in the words of Luddeccean Intelligence. Kenji swallowed as the scene unfolded; his heart rate quickened. He reminded himself that his sister hadn’t been injured. Still, he fast forwarded, holding his breath as he watched his sister race toward the safety of the plastitube lift.
Five minutes before the end of the playback, he hit pause. His sister, nearly at safety, had started to dart out into oncoming fire to rescue a fallen teammate. Just before she did, the archangel had pressed her down, and then raced out into the firestorm and retrieved the fallen teammate itself.
Turning off the playback, Kenji jerked back in his chair. Why? Why would it do that? Or more specifically, why would it be programmed to do that? It had no compunction against killing.
Picking up the phone beside his computer, he entered the code for the premier. When the line connected, Kenji said, “I need to go to the Kanakah Cloud.”
“Who is this?” said a voice that didn’t belong to the premier.
Kenji blinked.
“Who is this?” said the voice again, and this time Kenji recognized Johar, the premier’s secretary. He thought the line was exclusively for the premier … But no, with device-to-device communication, anyone could pick up.
“This is Kenji. I need to speak to the premier. I have a message that I need to deliver.”
The line cracked, and this time it was the premier who spoke. “You have a message you need given to your sister?”
Kenji sat back in his chair. “No,” he said. Noa would never give up. “I need to go with the team to Kanakah Cloud. I know how to make the archangel …” He paused. Something within him rebelled against the ridiculous code name.
“I know how to make the machine surrender itself,” Kenji finished.
And he knew how to save his sister.
Chapter Two
A light flickered above Noa’s head in the Ark’s hallway. They were almost to the Kanakah Cloud, only a few more hours at lightspeed … was the old boat going to die on her now? She cursed, reached out to her engineer through the ether, and found his signal offline. Manuel never turned off his channel. Her eyes darted from side to side, and her hand fell to the stunner at her hip.
She heard voices from behind a door down the hall, shouts of panic and anger. Raising her stunner, she broke into a jog. She reached the door, but it didn’t budge. With a growl, she punched the override button.
The door swished open, and she was face to face with Monica, the doctor from Earth she’d picked up on Adam’s Station. Monica’s usually neat mahogany hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her tastefully augmented features were distorted by a sneer. Her warm brown skin was stained by black mascara running down her face. “You condemned my husband to die!”
Taking a step back, Noa gasped. Monica’s hu
sband had been stationed on Luddeccea by C-Corp, the largest cybernetics manufacturer in the galaxy. He’d arranged to meet Monica and their daughter on the nearby planet of Libertas. Monica’s chartered ship had been damaged during the firefights between Luddeccean forces and Time Gate 8, and sent off course. She’d joined the Ark's crew thinking that Noa could take her to her husband. Noa had been forced to tell Monica that the Ark was not going to Libertas; they were heading to the Kanakah Cloud, to a hidden time gate they’d use to summon the fleet. Monica had taken it reasonably well. In a show of true Earther emotional restraint, she’d stifled sobs when Noa admitted that off-worlders, and anyone associated with the cybernetics industry, were among those targeted for the “re-education camps.”
Now …
Rushing out, Monica raised her fists. Dropping her stunner, Noa caught them just in time. From behind the doctor in the galley, voices rose. “You left us! You left us!”
Noa looked over Monica’s shoulder and saw her crew mates from System Six, her friend Ashley from the Luddeccean “re-education camp,” and her brother.
Pointing a finger at Noa, Kenji cried, “You’ll destroy the human race!”
“You know I’ll never make it!” Ashley shouted.
“You made me leave you behind,” Noa cried, as Monica redoubled her attack and more screams rose.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, tearing Noa’s hands from Monica’s. The arms released her, pushed her out of the way. Spinning, Noa saw James's naked back with feather-like tattoos in sharp relief against his pale skin. He punched Monica in the jaw, sending the doctor flying backward.
“No!” Noa screamed.
James hit the button that closed the door and turned to her, blue eyes flashing, blond hair hanging in front of his eyes. Carl Sagan was on his shoulder, bobbing his head. The werfle gave a tentative cheep.
“What are you doing?” Noa screamed. She knew he didn’t like the doctor, but he'd punched her with enough force to break her neck.
“What am I wearing, Noa?” James asked, putting his hands on her shoulders. Shoving away, Noa snarled.
“What am I wearing?” James asked again, his voice very calm.
“What does that have to do—?” Noa’s eyes dropped to the dark blue silk pajama bottoms he was wearing; they were far too luxurious to be something he’d found on the Ark. Her eyes slid to his left hand, steady at his side. It had been trembling off and on for weeks, and he refused to see the doctor for it. She let out a breath. It wasn’t James she was looking at, but one of his avatars.
Covering her eyes with her hands, she huffed in frustration. “Damn it, am I sleepwalking again?”
“Yes,” said James, approaching her cautiously this time, as though expecting her to strike out at him. “Don’t worry, we’re still in our quarters.” Her quarters had become “their quarters” when they took on the refugees from Atlantia.
Dropping her hands, she hissed, and stomped a foot. James was a step away, his expression softer than it ever could be in real life. “It’s only your third episode,” he said.
Her nails bit into her palm as she made fists of helpless rage. She may have only had three episodes of sleepwalking, but the nightmares were a near constant. If she didn’t have James appearing almost nightly in her dreams, she’d probably sleepwalk more.
“I shouldn’t be having any episodes,” she growled.
“It’s all the excitement about entering the Kanakah Cloud tomorrow.” Stepping close, so their bodies were brushing, he took her hands. He kissed her softly on the cheek. In real life he could not kiss her, or even smile or frown.
“Solar cores,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “I’m a Fleet Commander, not a silly stupid princess who needs coddling.”
One of James’s eyebrows lifted, and one side of his lips curled up. The dim light of the hallway brightened, expanded, and changed. Noa found herself standing in a neat, ornate, European-style garden in the sunshine. “What are you cooking up this time, James?” Noa asked.
James’s contributions to her dreams were becoming more and more elaborate. He smiled, winked, and looked down at her body. She followed his gaze and found herself “wearing” a get-up of ivory, pale green silk, and satin that was tight to her hips and then bloomed out into a huge skirt. “What is this?”
“A princess gown,” James said.
Rolling her eyes, Noa plucked at the skirt. “I’m definitely not a Europa princess …”
The scene changed and they were on top of a wooden bridge over a still pool in a Japanese garden. “Do you like this more?” James asked, now wearing a traditional Japanese men’s black kimono, open haori jacket, and hakama skirt. Noa looked down at the pale yellow kimono she wore, and the flower pattern on it seemed to shimmer as though it were made of water. The vision was so elaborate, she half expected to see herself in the reflection in the pond. Tentatively she glanced over the railing of the bridge and caught her breath. Sure enough, she saw herself mirrored in the surface of the still waters. Her dark eyes were highlighted with gold, as were her lips, and the tiny scars on the left side of her forehead and cheek as well. It was a clever inversion of the traditional Japanese white foundation with black, pink, and red highlights. She shifted uneasily.
“I just said I’m not a princess, and you put me in princess get-ups, James?” Noa asked, trying to keep her voice chiding. It was all very beautiful, it was just … she bit her lip.
Giving her an insufferable smirk, dropping a hand to the place on her hip just below the wide belt of her dream kimono, he said, “Maybe you should take it off?”
She felt herself go warm. He looked rather like a Christmas package ready to be unwrapped. But then a flash of white at the corner of the garden caught her eye. Turning, she saw a giant origami unicorn. It was blurrier than the surrounding scene, and in black and white. Before her eyes, it morphed into a “real” unicorn, galloped toward them a few steps, shook its head, and vanished between some hedges.
“Was that my dream or yours, James?” she whispered. There was something familiar about it.
“That was your dream,” he said in a hushed voice. Her eyes slid to him. His mouth was agape. Noa put a hand to her throat. It wasn't that weird. In the shared dream, a wind stirred. “What is all this about?” Noa asked, raising her hands, the long sleeves of her kimono flapping behind her like wings.
“A distraction for you,” he said.
“For me?” She asked dubiously. She felt like it was more for him.
“Don’t you like it? Everything works here.” He held up his left hand, no tremors wracked it in the mindscape, and then he looked away. “Did you know some people say the true sign of intelligence is not knowledge, it’s imagination?”
Noa looked around. “This is your imagination?” She’d thought it was something he remembered from an immersive environment. In dreams, things tended to exist only in the direction of the dreamer's gaze, but this dream did not blur around the edges. He had been in the computing lab a lot recently, and could have used the Ark’s computer …
Sounding a little defensive, James said, “Everyone’s great imaginary leaps use others’ leaps of imagination as scaffolding.”
“I’m sure that’s true …” She looked around and shivered, though she couldn’t say why. Half-teasing, she said, “Maybe you should consider becoming a holo artist when we get back to Earth.”
James beamed. “I have never, ever considered that as a career choice. But now …” He looked up at an illusory sun. “I don’t think I’ll be going back to the university. I’m not who I was. A holo artist …” He nodded, looking very pleased.
“I’m glad I can help you find your life’s next great calling,” Noa said, feeling a premonition of future sadness. This was one of the few conversations they'd had about the future. What they had was great aboard the Ark with a common goal and a destination. That might all change when they got back to Earth. “Let’s go back to our cabin now.” She looked off into the d
istance. “We need to stay focused in the real world. Can’t be hiding in our dreams, or worrying about the future.” And maybe that was what made her uneasy all along? A cold wind blew in the dream. She thought she heard a sound like a horse’s nicker—or a unicorn’s.
James’s smile dropped. The scene morphed, and they were standing in their quarters by the door. The lights were off. The only illumination came from the blur of the universe at lightspeed outside their window. Carl Sagan launched off James’s shoulders. Noa took James’s hand and led him to the bed. Kissing him as they slid under the covers, she pressed her body to his. “See, reality isn’t so bad.”
Raising an eyebrow, he said, “You’re still dreaming, Noa.” Before she could respond, he kissed her back.
Chapter Three
Noa’s legs slid between James’s. He grabbed her hips, pulled her close, thought of the dream that they’d shared the night before, and how they could make it real.
“I’m going to go take my shower,” Noa whispered.
An app went off in his mind, telling him it was time to get up, and almost time for Noa to be on shift. There was no way he could persuade her to be late—he’d tried once. He had never seen her so furious. Noa would always be a commander first, and today, with their arrival at the Kanakah Cloud ... He loosened his grip, and she slid from the bed with a sideways smile, leaving a gust of cold air in her wake. He watched her stride across the room, lithe and graceful. With every step his vision darkened around the edges. Had he wanted to recreate the dream? If he didn’t get some nourishment within the next few minutes, he might not be able to make it to breakfast.
As soon as Noa was out of sight, he slid off the bed and unlatched one of the storage drawers beneath. Opening it, he set the mask for her ongoing cryssallis treatment to one side, rolled the ancient hologlobe of Noa’s “great-great-great-something” grandparents to the other, and took out her stunner with a shaky hand.