The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4
Page 66
No one looked up, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have seen anything; thus, the world thought Rachel Veritros dead. It would take nearly a thousand years for anyone to recognize that error.
Fifty-One
A week and a half prior, the world thought its problems were over. Sure, there would be the harsh duty of cleaning up, fixing what could be repaired, destroying what couldn’t, healing the wounded, mourning the dead. War breeds disaster and whenever it finishes, there is much to put together again; but there is also a sense of hope—of genuine happiness—that the hardest parts of life are in the past, and things will improve.
A week and a half later, the sun rose on the One Path Ministry, and almost no one knew what was to come that day. Certainly the vast majority of the world didn’t. Those still alive were thankful and doing their best to help rebuild. There was some worry amongst the Ministers, that class of people more elite than any other to ever live. They were concerned with the High Priest and his insane goals, somewhat frightened that he may cause more death by provoking a woman who didn’t understand her powers.
They were worried, but even with all of their knowledge, they didn’t understand anything about what was to happen.
No voice whispered to them saying, It’s not over. Maybe it never will be, but this is not the end.
They, like everyone else, were trying to do the best they could, given the world they lived in.
Yet, as the sun rose, the world entered a new era, though it had no idea such a thing was occurring.
Massive ships were flying to the One Path Ministry, an ambitious Priest at their head.
The One Path itself had positioned sleek bombers around the High Priest’s fortress, waiting for the ambitious Priest to arrive.
A father and a man obsessed approached the Priest’s new home, unaware of anything happening around them.
Inside his fortress, the High Priest knew war was near, and also his own willingness to keep Nicki Sesam—a woman he didn’t understand, and didn’t realize he didn’t understand.
In another part of the world, a fallen believer was beginning a revolution, even if small and something she thought would end in her death.
A young woman sat at the center, guided by voices she didn’t know, and thrust into a war she didn’t want.
And watching above it all?
The Unformed.
“He’s a son of a bitch,” the One Path Minister—Trinant One—said. She meant it, too. She had hated the High Priest before this nonsense, but now she despised him.
He’d made her look a fool, was still making her look a fool.
Trinant hadn’t left the Globe of One; she wasn’t about to travel out to this new weapon and risk her own life. She could see everything she needed from the Globe. Her place was not out there leading a battle. Trinant knew she was no general, nor did she want to pretend to be one.
Right now, she was staring at a massive building she hadn’t even known existed. A day ago, she had seen the High Priest’s other house, a small thing that looked like something the poorest member of the One Path might own. She hadn’t gone to visit it, of course—she might when this was all done. Other people had been, and what they’d seen had been relayed back to her.
The son-of-a-bitch had two houses within her Ministry, and this one was … absurd.
When compared with the Globe of One, it wasn’t that large—but nothing should be compared to the Globe of One. That was the point. The Globe was in a category to itself, and yet here she was comparing another Minister’s home to it.
She had already initiated a review of how any of this was possible. How a Minister had come to live in the One Path’s territory without anyone knowing. It was kept confidential, no one outside her chain of command would ever hear of it—the embarrassment was nearly more than she could handle. Nearly more than her Ministry could handle. Because if the High Priest had come here, what about other possible illegal aliens?
The questions were endless, and Trinant couldn’t focus on them at the moment. She first had to deal with the High Priest.
The One Path’s ships had surrounded him, all of them cloaked and reflecting the sky. She thought this mammoth building might have detection devices on it, but the ships had been there for 12 hours now with nothing happening. She didn’t understand this High Priest; he was insane and Trinant would be relieved when he was dead.
The Old World wanted the woman inside returned, but that was secondary for Trinant. She didn’t know what the True Faith wanted with her, but they were third in line to rights. If possible, Trinant would give the girl back to Yule, but if not, then the girl would either die or remain here for the One Path’s study. Trinant truly preferred death for the girl … but she valued the Old World’s friendship, though she would say such things to no one else. She hated the High Priest, thought the Constant’s Minister little more than a figurehead. The Pope was the only one she thought … well, not fondly of, but she could at least stand him.
So, if it was possible, she’d send the woman back to Yule.
If not, though, Trinant wouldn’t feel badly for killing her.
“What’s that?”
A screen stretching 25 yards sat in front of Trinant. It stood 20 feet tall and gave her a clear view of everything happening around the High Priest’s home (her mind nearly spat the word as she thought it). The building floated in the center, and tiny yellow dots wrapped around it—the dots were layovers, visual representations of the One Path’s ships.
Yet, beneath the building, something new was on her screen.
“Closer,” she said, her voice low, but the entire room revolved around detecting her every wish.
The screen zoomed in on the new object.
It was a ship.
“Get something next to it,” she said.
She watched as a yellow dot zipped away from the larger pack, quickly cutting the space between it and the ship. A few seconds passed and the yellow dot started circling it.
“Show me.”
The screen’s view switched from a panorama to what the yellow dot was seeing.
Trinant looked at a small, older ship. She could see inside it, though the passengers couldn’t see her ship circling around outside.
“First Priest,” she said, the technology in the room immediately recognizing who she was speaking with, and broadcasting her voice to him. “Is this you?”
“Is what me?” the First Priest’s voice said from the speakers in the ceiling above. Everyone in the room with Trinant would be able to hear the conversation, but she wasn’t concerned. If she needed, she could switch it to her ears only, but she didn’t feel the need right now. The people with her needed to understand that she was in control, despite what might have happened the past few weeks.
“This ship. Is it one of yours?”
“We’re hours out yet. I don’t see any ship, nor do I know of any,” the First Priest said.
He could be lying—the True Faith’s treachery knew no limits, but it would be a dangerous gamble given the situation.
“Yule,” she said, the room switching its broadcast. “I’m sending you what I’m seeing.”
“I have it,” the Pope said, watching from somewhere in the Old World. A few seconds passed and then, “Oh, no ….”
“What?” Trinant said, her voice growing slightly louder.
“It’s the father. The young woman’s father. Daniel Sesam.”
“There’s two people in there. Who’s the other one?”
“I don’t know. Give me a moment and I’ll find out,” the Pope answered.
The room went silent and Trinant looked at the two men, their ship tunneling upward through the air, heading into a war they weren’t prepared for.
“She’s in there,” the psychopath said.
Daniel knew the man’s name, but his mind still reverted to how he knew him best.
Their transport was a few miles away, but Daniel had no problem seeing what the psychopath was talking ab
out. It was the only building hanging in the sky for a long, long distance. Maybe 50 or 100 miles, though Daniel couldn’t be sure.
“This is the One Path?” he asked.
“Yes, though the very, very outskirts of it. I’m not sure how he constructed any of this.”
“It’s really him, isn’t it? The True Faith’s High Priest?”
The psychopath nodded. “Yes, to the best of the Vatican’s knowledge, he’s the one keeping her.”
“And you’re sure she’s there?”
He nodded again, but said nothing. The two of them sat in the front now, Daniel to the man’s right.
“Can you make it bigger?” he asked.
The psychopath leaned forward, and using his fingers, zoomed in on the window in front of them. The floating house grew larger, allowing Daniel to take in the actual size. “Jesus ….”
“Please. There’s no need to be vulgar,” the psychopath said.
Daniel paid no attention to his words; his mind was fixated on the building now taking up the entire front window.
“It’s a city,” he said. “It’s got to be the size of the Vatican.”
The psychopath chuckled. “No, not even close, though it is huge. A tenth of a mile long and half that tall.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair, not taking his eyes away, but unable to comprehend exactly what he’d been thinking when he stole away from the Old World.
You were thinking about Nicki. You were thinking about getting her back, the exact same thing you need to be thinking about now.
“How?” he said aloud.
“How what?”
“How do we do this? What can we possibly do against it? Against him?”
The psychopath looked over. “What did you think would happen when we showed up? That the True Faith’s most senior official would simply give her to us? You know the Pope has been working tirelessly at this, right? And he’s made no progress … I don’t know what you thought you were getting yourself into.”
Daniel shook his head. “I … I didn’t think it would be this.”
The psychopath looked forward again and then patted Daniel’s knee. “It’s okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve taken someone from people who didn’t want me to.”
Daniel looked over at him, a look of sick horror growing on his face. The psychopath wore a smirk.
He was right, even if Daniel hated to hear it. If anyone could get in there and get his daughter, it was the psycho sitting next to him.
“What do we do?”
“Some people are going to have to die, Daniel. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“Take this.” The psychopath reached into a bag on his left and pulled out a pistol. “Point, shoot.”
“What if I run out of bullets?”
“I’ll take care of it.” He reached forward and zoomed out on the screen, changing the display back to its actual size.
Daniel felt like he might vomit as their ship grew closer. Three miles turned into two, and then one. “I’m scared,” he said, feeling like a child but simply needing to get the words out.
“God is on our side. There’s nothing to be scared of. The High Priest is an infidel and he holds one of God’s children captive.”
Daniel didn’t look over as the building’s massive structure dwarfed their ship. The man was mad, and Daniel slightly envied him it now, because his insanity drove his calm.
The psychopath maneuvered the ship beneath the home, and then rose straight up, finding a docking station on the far east side. As they docked, Daniel looked around but saw no one. Had they not been viewed approaching? He thought that almost impossible, but here they were, docking without a soul in sight.
“Where is everyone?”
The psychopath said nothing as the ship stopped inside the nook. He pulled his own pistol out. The sides of the transport lifted and the psychopath stepped carefully out onto the platform, his steps not making a sound. Daniel followed from his own side. He couldn’t hear anything besides the wind blowing beneath them.
From what Daniel could see, there had been maybe 10 docking stations along the bottom of the building. He didn’t have any idea how long this thing had been here, but it appeared to be well equipped. A large bay door sat in front of the transport, the doors having sensed the entering transport and opened.
“Just go inside?” he said over the top of the ship.
The psychopath answered by walking forward on the platform, heading to the bay door. Daniel followed from his side, meeting him in front of the transport.
The psychopath stopped just before entering the building. “Shoot when I do. Otherwise, keep your gun pointed at the ground. Understand?”
Daniel nodded. Intellectually he got it, but in reality? He didn’t know if he’d be able to shoot when the time came. He could still hear the wind whipping below the building, reminding him that he was in a place he didn’t know. A place he wasn’t ever meant to see. The man next to him, thin almost to the point of emaciation, had more synapses misfiring than Daniel could count in a lifetime.
In reality, Daniel realized he didn’t understand anything anymore.
But he nodded all the same, because he was going inside to get his baby girl.
The psychopath led and Daniel followed. Together, they entered the house of the High Priest.
Yule closed his eyes and brought his hand to the bridge of his nose.
He’d just found out who Daniel was with. It’d only taken 10 minutes, the entire Vatican now focused on retrieving Nicki Sesam.
His name was Jackson Carriage, and he’d been with the sight program—had been the one originally sent to find the girl. Yule hadn’t had a lot of time to understand the man, but the Pope’s subordinates told him as much as they could.
Obsessed was the word they used.
Yule didn’t understand this; he couldn’t. There wasn’t opportunity to wrap his mind around it, but the best it could come up with was …
He didn’t know, and he didn’t have any time to figure it out. Daniel had made his bed, and there wasn’t anything Yule could do.
“Trinant,” he said into the intercom on his desk.
“I’m here.”
“The man with him was a former employee of the Catholic Church. The best I can understand is that they’re both trying to get the woman back. This wasn’t authorized by anyone within the Church. I was completely unaware it was happening.”
Silence came back from the intercom. Yule looked up to the screen hanging from his office, seeing exactly what the One Path’s Minister was watching. The Old World had no one heading to the One Path—or weren’t supposed to, but apparently Daniel had made him a liar.
“Let’s hope they don’t mess this up,” Trinant said, her voice a low flame of anger.
Yule didn’t know if she believed him or not, and he supposed it didn’t matter. The die was cast and he couldn’t do a thing about it. Only watch as God’s will played out.
And Yule hoped—prayed—that it was God’s will, and not someone else’s.
Fifty-Two
Raylyn had been waiting all morning. The announcement went out late last night, the exact time of Manor’s execution. It was the first of its kind—at least during Raylyn’s lifetime. Perhaps her parents’, and their parents’ too.
It would occur in the late afternoon, when the day’s labor had ended. When everyone could view it. The Priesthood was going to broadcast it live, an unheard of act, but one that would be cheered—Raylyn felt sure. Because a member of the Black’s evil minions was being murdered, receiving Corinth’s justice, and that was right.
Raylyn didn’t know if Manor deserved to die, but she knew he’d received no due process, no hearing. He’d been judged without the ability to protest his innocence. Only Raylyn had heard it, down in his cell, and while it hadn’t proved anything one way or the other to her—it had let her see that this was a charade, and if Corinth ever knew justice, he no longer did.
The assistant waited at his assigned spot.
“Go ahead and tell your colleagues. These two are coming with me to witness the execution. I’ll be picking up Scoble next.”
The assistant looked on in silence for a second, and then nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. Let them see what’s coming for them when we’re finished.”
Raylyn smiled at him. It appeared she had taken the First Priest’s place in his mind. “I agree.”
The wall flickered out of existence and Raylyn stepped through. Hollowborne was on her cot, her eyes already focused on the things floating next to Raylyn. She didn’t bother having the assistant leave or close the wall behind her. Raylyn didn’t want this taking long at all.
The first cot unfolded, green lights shining across it.
“You’ll wear this,” she said as the necklace floated across the room, lighting green as well. Raylyn’s eyes glowed, while internally she hoped that Hollowborne wouldn’t screw everything up by saying something.
“Why?” Hollowborne asked.
Is she playing a part?
“You get the opportunity to watch one of your kind die today. Now, hold your head still.”
The necklace hung in front of Hollowborne’s face, and the woman opened her mouth to speak (but she didn’t move her head, thanks be to Corinth)—the necklace unclasped and then whipped around her neck quickly.
Hollowborne froze in her last position, mouth still open. Raylyn almost sighed with relief, having thought this would all go wrong somehow.
There’s still time, her stubborn half said. Still plenty of time for that.
And there was, so no sense in waiting around here any longer. Using the necklace’s nanotech, Raylyn straightened Hollowborne and then moved her onto the stretcher. The light in the necklace died, though the green in the stretcher continued shining as Raylyn moved it out of the room.