by David Beers
The man fell to his knees when David was a few feet from him.
“It’s an honor, Prophet. A great honor.”
“Please, please, no,” David said, trying to keep any annoyance from entering his voice. Rebecca … his mind could focus on nothing else, yet now he had to deal with these people wanting to prostrate themselves on the ground.
He reached down and helped the short man back to his feet.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking up at David.
“No, no. We’re fine. Maybe just a bit tired.”
“Come inside,” the woman called from the opposite platform. She took Rebecca’s hand and led the four of them into the home.
David spent the next 20 minutes doing his best to remain polite. Food was shoved in their faces and questions asked, but he couldn’t shake his thoughts about Rebecca.
And what were they, exactly? Could he even name them? No. Not directly. Something happened inside the transport, though he didn’t know what. He only knew there’d been a change. He’d felt it.
Was she worried about Rhett? Was that the truth?
What are you saying, David? That your sister is lying to you? Is that something you really want to entertain, especially right now?
“I’m sorry, but can we have a few minutes to ourselves?” David finally asked. He saw the faces of his hosts change, turning quickly to embarrassment.
“Yes, yes. Of course. We’re so sorry. Truly. We’ll … We’ll give you some space. If you need us we’ll be in our bedrooms.”
Less than a minute later the two of them were alone, brother and sister.
“That was a bit rude,” Rebecca said.
David looked at her for a second, taking all of her in.
Am I missing something? he wondered.
Finally he broke eye contact and stood from the table. He walked across the small kitchen to the sink. The rooms in the One Path—all One Path buildings, really—were small. It was a necessity to conserve energy, as keeping everything suspended in the air consumed massive amounts. It made David feel like a caged animal, walking around in this small orb.
“We need to reach out to Rhett,” he said.
“He told us not to.”
“I know, Rebecca. But they should be arriving here soon, and we need to know when.”
“What if we get him killed?”
David turned around. “What if we get me killed?”
She said nothing.
“Because I’m the one going up against this woman. What if my not knowing when she’s arriving ends up giving her the upper hand? Is my life more important than Rhett’s?”
Rebecca nodded and whispered, “Of course it is, David.”
“Then contact him, and find out where they’re at.”
She looked away from him and he watched as her eyes lit with green specks. She was quiet for a few minutes and he said nothing, only stared at her, letting whatever conversation was taking place continue.
He hadn’t planned on contacting Rhett when he got here. He believed he would be able to sense the woman when she arrived, but …
You just put Rhett’s life at risk, and why?
He didn’t know, but Rebecca had said she was worrying about him. Only, David had pretty easily overcome her arguments against contacting Rhett.
Haven’t you been saying for years that you were tired of her arguing with you? Of not simply acquiescing to what you want? Isn’t this what you’ve been asking for? And maybe tonight is different because she knows what the stakes are. She knows what you have to do tomorrow.
He thought the words, but none of them felt true. David hadn’t doubted himself in long, long years. What he felt was real, and it had been ever since the Unformed touched him. When he first felt the girl, no doubt. When he first felt the traitor, no doubt. And now, he sensed something wrong with his sister—but because it was his own blood, he was letting doubt enter his mind.
He watched as Rebecca stared in silence, eyes alight, and he wondered what it was that bothered him so.
Where are you?
Rhett heard the message. He looked over at the Disciple, as much habit as anything else. The man gave no indication that he knew a conversation was taking place, but that meant absolutely nothing.
Brief anger rose in Rhett at Rebecca for contacting him. He’d specifically told her not to, that he would make contact if he could.
It’s not her, he thought. She wouldn’t do it on her own. David told her to talk to you, so if you’re going to be angry at anyone, be angry at him.
Seconds passed without him saying anything in response, Rebecca remaining quiet too, though the line remained open.
What did it matter? If Rhett ignored them, would it change anything? This Disciple already knew just about everything, and Rhett was flying with a ticking time bomb behind him. David was the only thing that could save him from any of this, and if he wanted to know Rhett’s location—what, would he not tell him? Was that the safest choice?
Rhett shook his head.
“I’m going to tell them the truth,” he said.
The Disciple nodded, though not looking over. His usual calm countenance unbreakable, regardless of what happened. The nod, though, that made Rhett feel better about his decision. The Disciple had heard the nanotechnology—impossible for normal people, but easy for him, apparently.
I can see the One Path, Rhett told her.
And he could, miles and miles ahead, buildings hanging in the air. It was beautiful, in a sad, sick way. The fires raged in the morning sky making the buildings look like bursting stars. They weren’t stars, though, but people’s homes, and the people in them were dead now—or would be soon.
How long before you arrive? Rebecca asked.
Probably a little before sunset.
Are you okay? she said.
Yes, but they know now. Everything I just told you, the True Faith knows. So don’t say anything about yourself.
He looked over at the Disciple, but the man kept staring forward, as if none of this bothered him.
Okay, Rhett, Rebecca said. Good luck.
The connection ended and Rhett kept watching the Disciple. Rebecca’s words rang in his head; her voice sounded fragile—as if she were a wounded bird, barely keeping flight, but knowing a strong wind would eventually bring her down.
What’s happening with them? he wondered.
Rhett could have kept wondering, but he thought to do so might give the Disciple more information.
David was coming, and hopefully by tonight they’d be reunited. The Disciple, the woman, the whole One Path—they would all see the truth, and the Disciple would no longer need ask questions regarding faith.
That’s all Rhett knew, and that’s all that mattered to him.
“He said they’d arrive before dusk.”
Rebecca watched David nod. His eyes were still, no gray dancing nor threatening to break out.
“Did he say where?”
“I didn’t ask. One, it’s not safe for him, and two, how would he know where they’re going?”
David didn’t nod this time, but he didn’t look away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to keep her mind still. Thinking anything outside of this conversation could be disastrous.
“That’s what I want to know, Rebecca. What’s wrong? Is it really Rhett? Because something changed in you right before we got here.”
“What do you mean? ‘Changed in me’?”
“I’m just asking you what is wrong. That’s what I mean. Because something is, and it still is, and you’re not telling me.”
Rebecca shook her head, doing her best to mimic bewilderment. “I did tell you. I started thinking about Rhett, David. He’s alone and with the enemy. I love him, just like I love you, and so I’m worried about him. Why is that so hard to understand? What else would it be? I mean, there are other things I could worry about: the woman, the True Faith, the Unformed, our war. There are a million things, but why is it so hard f
or you to believe me?”
David turned around. The wall recognized someone was looking at it and turned translucent, allowing him to look out at the burning skies.
“What is it, David?” Rebecca pushed.
“I don’t know. Something. At least that’s what it feels like.”
Rebecca stood and walked across the kitchen, standing behind her brother. She reached forward and put her hand on his elbow. “You’re tired. You’re stressed. But if you can’t trust me, David, who can you trust? If I’m lying to you, who is telling you the truth?”
He turned around and she saw gray light flickering in his pupils. They weren’t fully engrossed, only flirting, but he bore down with them.
“I’m not going to lie to you, David. You’re my brother.”
He didn’t nod, didn’t say a word. Only stared, his power just underneath the surface, not rising all the way up. Rebecca didn’t know what he was doing, whether he was searching or only trying to frighten her. She met his stare and kept her hand on his elbow.
The light finally died, his pupils taking full control again.
“I’m going outside for a little while. We only have a few hours, so if you want to sleep, do it now.”
He turned away from her and walked from the kitchen to the patio door. Rebecca watched him go, her hand still hanging in the air where his elbow had been.
It started trembling the moment David stepped outside. Rebecca looked down at it, her whole hand shaking as if she’d just pulled it from a bucket of ice.
What are you doing? What in the hell are you doing?
She turned from the kitchen and found the small bedroom she’d been given when they first arrived. The wall recognized her, dissipated momentarily, and then formed back once she walked inside.
The tears came then, flooding her eyes. Rebecca practically fell onto the bed, collapsing as much as deciding to sit. Both hands were trembling now and she couldn’t see much of anything, the tears combined with the room’s darkness practically blinding her.
Your brother, she thought. THAT’S YOUR BROTHER AND TONIGHT YOU MAY WATCH HIM DIE.
She felt a noise gathering in her throat, threatening to rip out of her and into the silent house. It took everything in her to squelch it, forcing it down before her pain could be given voice and alert everyone.
You touched him and told him you wouldn’t lie.
But you know what’s coming tonight. You and only you.
Rebecca dropped her face into her hands and let the tears fall in earnest, unable to hold them back. If David walked in now, the game ended. But she couldn’t do anything else—the pain, the treachery, it was all too much.
What? Why are you crying now? Because the deed’s about to be done? You’ve been plotting this for years, so don’t turn into a coward because you’re a few hours from it happening. You could have stopped it at any time, but you didn’t.
The words were true but it changed nothing. Not the pain, nor the guilt, and Rebecca sat in both of them.
Eventually, she was able to stop sobbing and lay down on the bed. She stuck her hands under the bottom of her shirt, wrapping it in her fists. She was cold but didn’t want to disturb the blanket underneath her.
Her brother’s death was almost here.
That was the final truth. He would die and hopefully she would too, because she certainly didn’t want to live any longer with what she’d done. Not these smaller treacheries, nor the one she would commit tonight. David’s murder.
Rebecca cried inside her room while David stood alone outside the house. It was an egg shaped thing, small compared to anything built inside the True Faith—or any other Ministry for that matter. David stood on a balcony that wrapped around the entire middle of the structure. It stretched about six feet out, with a protective barrier stretching up past the railing and connecting back with the building. You couldn’t see the barrier, a translucent substance, though also porous, allowing the outside air to breeze over the platform.
David wondered briefly how these sky people dealt with bad weather, especially being suspended over an ocean. Looking at the clouds gathering just above him, he thought he would soon find out.
The night hung in front of David, he who had mastered the world. The fires that burned around him, they burned because of him. He controlled this world, and if anyone who hadn’t already submitted were to poke their heads from their destroyed homes, they would die.
He’d taken over the world, and now had only one enemy left to vanquish. The woman arriving in just a few hours. After her death, he could head to the Nile and complete the Union. Once he killed her, he could meet his fate and completely change the world.
Yet, standing before what had taken him 20 plus years to do, David felt none of that.
A conqueror the world had never known—perhaps not even with Veritros—and he felt like it all might crumble between his fingers at any moment. In fact, it might already be crumbling, and he hadn’t known it until this moment.
What do you know? What? A feeling? That’s what you had about Rebecca, and now … that’s good enough to judge her completely? A lot of years, David. A lot of trust shared both ways. Feeling something inside a transport—what’s that worth? Is it worth your soul? Because if you’re wrong here, that’s what you’d be giving up. Not to the Unformed, but to darkness eternal.
He stared out with human eyes, not the Touched’s. He saw the world as humans did, and he felt their pain.
A feeling. Suspicion and then pain. One led to the other. But his feelings bore fruit. He’d felt a traitor amongst his followers, and then the True Faith came to kill him and destroy everything he’d built.
Was this feeling any different than that one? Was it any less correct? The only difference was he felt it about his sister and not some unknown.
You need to be clear about what you’re saying here. Very, very clear. A feeling is one thing, but you need to name what it is you’re thinking.
And that’s what he didn’t want to do.
Not now. Not ever.
Not her.
Not Rebecca.
It’d been her he’d gone to when he was first Touched. Not Rhett. Not his parents. She had been the person he told, young and scared with tears in his eyes. Because he hadn’t understood it, the magnitude weighing on his 14 year old shoulders. Threatening to break them.
It’d been her who helped him start recruiting, bringing Rhett in, and then Christine. The one who challenged him when no one else would, making him see things from another perspective, even when he didn’t want to.
What are you saying? Out loud now. Don’t hide from it, if that’s what you want to accuse her of.
David swallowed, tears in his eyes.
Is it her? Is Rebecca the traitor?
Thirty-Four
The High Priest woke before the sun rose, as he always did. He lay in his bed for an hour, not moving nor opening his eyes. If anyone had watched him, they wouldn’t have known he was awake at all … though such a thought never crossed his mind.
The High Priest’s Disciple was approaching, bringing the young woman with him. Perhaps, out of everyone involved in the endeavor, the High Priest knew more than them all. He knew the parties coming, his own faithful, as well as the weapon. He also knew what the end game was here, and that separated him from many of the others. They might all have different goals, but after last night, his objective stood supreme.
Corinth came to him in the night, in a dream. It had been a while since Corinth revealed himself, though the High Priest never worried about the long absence. He believed Corinth’s presence might contribute to his growing insanity, and so His staying at bay wasn’t necessarily bad. The High believed Corinth would come when it was necessary, and no more.
The High Priest was always a boy in these dreams, and Corinth appeared as his father. He wore the same clothes his father had, was the same height, the same weight—the only difference being his father’s head was replaced with Corinth’s.
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br /> The High Priest had forgotten his birth name, but that was okay, Corinth never needed to call him by it. In the dream last night, he and Corinth had been sitting on the High Priest’s living room floor. Here, in the One Path, not where he used to live when underground.
“A lot of people are coming here, aren’t they?” Corinth asked, His voice taking on different tones. One word might be the High Priest’s father’s voice, and the next Corinth’s.
The High Priest nodded, his child’s body feeling so foreign to the old man that now lay in bed.
“What are you going to do with them all?”
“The girl,” the little boy said. “I want to look at her brain.”
“Why?”
“I think there might be something in it I can use. I want to understand this Black, this Unformed.” His own voice sounded like himself, now, holding none of youth’s levity.
“So you’re going to kill her?”
“Yes, unless I can somehow keep her alive while studying her brain.”
“What about the rest?” Corinth asked.
“I’m going to kill them.”
“All of them?”
The little boy nodded.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It seems the easiest solution.”
“And what about the weapon? Will it be easy to kill him?”
The High Priest’s brow furrowed and he looked down at his father’s shoes. He hadn’t thought too much about the weapon lately, his thoughts returning more and more to the girl’s brain. And now, with Corinth in front of him, perhaps that had been a mistake.
“No. Probably not,” he finally said.
“The weapon is a tough thing to kill. Always has been.” Corinth reached down next to him and picked up a severed head. The High Priest hadn’t seen it there before, wasn’t sure it had been there.
Corinth dropped it between the two of them. It landed with a thud, specks of blood splattering on the wood from the torn neck arteries.
The High looked at the face, and saw it was a woman’s. Her eyes stared straight up at the ceiling, unaware of the two people now studying her.