The Devils Do (Chaos of the Covenant Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  “The Gift responds to anger and hate,” Abbey said. “I don’t think your Shard was angry all of the time.”

  “He was never angry. He forgave Lucifer for his misguided thoughts before he died.”

  “How do we know any of this bullshit is true?” Benhil said. “No offense, but we’re going on what, exactly? The testimony of a woman that looks like she just fell out of a gypsy trawler? Queenie, do you really believe this?”

  “I don’t need to believe it,” Abbey replied. “I need to understand it.” She paused, thinking. “You have the Blood of the Shard, but no way to prevent the madness?”

  “Yes. That’s why we don’t all use it. Only those who volunteer. I expect to survive two more years, at most.”

  “But you’re so young.”

  “And stronger because of it. This is war, Queenie. Sacrifices must be made.”

  “I don’t understand what happened to the Nephilim?” Bastion asked. “You said they were kicking your asses. Between that and the Gift, they should be running the show out here, not building a fleet to take control of the galaxy.”

  “The Focus,” Jequn said.

  “What is that?” Abbey asked.

  “The tomb of the Shard. The place where his remains are kept. He told us how to build it before he died. It contains what was left of his blood, along with the naniates that survived within. It is our only truly effective weapon against the Nephilim. We used it on Drune to prevent the Brimstone from hitting your ship, redirecting their attacks.”

  “I knew that had to be more than dumb luck,” Bastion said, shaking his head. “Son of a bitch.”

  “How did the Focus help you defeat the Nephilim?” Abbey asked, still trying to keep the discussion on track.

  “We used it to destroy ninety percent of all life in the galaxy.”

  Bastion stopped laughing. “Excuse me? What?”

  “The Nephilim came to depend on the naniates. Not only internally to maintain the strength of their Gift, but externally as well. Over the course of the First War, they learned to harness the power of life and twist it to their needs.”

  “Like the Brimstone,” Gant said.

  “Yes. An incredible power source, with humans as the catalyst. The ships aren’t the only weapons the Nephilim created that depend on the Blood of the Shard. There are monstrosities that have yet to return to this galaxy. Things I hope we will never see.”

  “This whole thing is so messed up,” Pik said. “But why is everything Terrans this and Terrans that? What about Trovers?”

  “The naniates are poison to Trovers,” Jequn said. “If one entered your bloodstream, it would kill you within minutes.”

  “Ouch,” Dak said.

  “But why all living things?” Gant asked. “Why not just Terrans?”

  “We couldn't affect specific kinds of life. Only all life.”

  “What happened to the Nephilim?” Benhil said.

  “Without humans to feed the naniates, they were forced to retreat. They abandoned this part of the universe. It wasn't long before they started blaming one another for the loss and began to fight among themselves. Between losing their blood supply and the fighting, a great deal of their technical progress was lost.”

  “That explains why they built the Fire and Brimstone in Republic space,” Benhil said. “They needed the humans to power it, as fragged up as that is. I wonder how many people died while they did the R&D on these things?”

  “I wonder how many people the Crescent Haulers delivered to them?” Bastion said.

  Gant hopped onto the side of the command station. “So while the planets in the galaxy were repopulating, the Nephilim were warring with one another somewhere beyond our galaxy?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the hell were the Seraphim doing? It sounds like you had thousands of years to rebuild.”

  “Nearly ten thousand years,” Jequn said. “We tried. But between the war and the use of the Focus, we were down almost ninety-five percent of our original population. The Seraphim who remained clean of the Blood did reproduce with one another, and later with human counterparts, but it hasn’t been easy for many reasons, including the Nephilim. They retreated after we used the Focus, but they never left completely. While they waited for the stock to replenish, they visited Earth and took what they could. They’ve been abducting humans for thousands of years. We did our best to try to prevent it, but we weren't powerful or numerous enough. We still aren’t.”

  "That's awesome," Bastion said. "Just fragging awesome. So what you’re saying is that if we’re going to survive, we have to fight these assholes ourselves?”

  “Pretty much.”

  2

  A silence fell over the bridge as each of them tried to absorb the weight of the statement. It wasn’t every day someone told you monsters were real and they were coming to get you.

  “Okay,” Bastion said, breaking that silence. “Let me try to sum this all up in case anyone got lost.” He paused to fill his lungs with air. “Assholes from a parallel dimension allegedly decide to come here and make some intelligent life, which turns into us. In the meantime, there’s a mutiny and a rebellion, and a Seraphim named Lucifer, which also happens to be Satan in our religious culture, who kills the Shard who is kind of like God and steals his blood and wants to eat said tasty little morsels like yours truly. But the supposed good guys killed everything first to keep that from happening, except now it’s ten-thousand years later and they’re hungry, so they came back to eat us all. Oh, and bonus points to them for using us as fragging fuel for their new, indestructible starships.”

  “They aren’t indestructible,” Erlan said.

  “What?” Bastion replied.

  “The ships. They aren’t indestructible. We destroyed one off Anvil.”

  “Well, good for you, Nerd. Let’s forget everything else I just said, then. It’s all good. We’re all fine. We took out one of their ships.” He lifted his hand. “High-five!”

  “Lucifer shut it,” Abbey said. “You sound like Jester.”

  “Hey,” Benhil said.

  “I think Jequn made it pretty clear that they didn’t come back to eat us. They came back to use us.”

  “Oh. That’s much better. For what?”

  “To rebuild their military and provide a power source for an Elysium Gate. Thraven said he wants to go back home and finish what Lucifer started. The Nephilim want to kill the One.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Bastion said.

  “Under any circumstances,” Abbey agreed. “Thraven called us Lessers. He thinks of us as tools or slaves. Not only because of the naniates. I’m sure a few billion individuals doing involuntary labor for them wouldn’t hurt either.”

  “They’re going to need a massive force even to consider challenging the One,” Jequn said. “Hundreds of ships. Thousands. Even that won’t be enough. It is a fool’s errand.”

  “What if they had the Focus?” Abbey asked.

  Jequn froze. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t work for them, but if they’ve managed to twist the naniates?”

  “Where is it now?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Gant said.

  “Can’t. I don’t know where it is. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. We need your help. Yours especially, Queenie. But that is our best and last defense against Thraven and the Nephilim.”

  “Understood,” Abbey said. “Especially after Fury pulled that bullshit and went off with that bastard. I should have seen it coming.”

  “You used the Focus on Drune,” Bastion said. “It had to be there, right?”

  “No,” Jequn said. “We had a Node on Drune, but not the Focus itself.”

  “Node?”

  “The Shard once used them to transport himself between the Seedships and the Shardship, regardless of distance. After his death, we learned to use them to transfer the power of the Focus. It’s also how Phanuel and I came to Anvil. Only those with the Blood
of the Shard can use it.”

  “But what were you doing on Drune in the first place?” Abbey asked.

  “Other members of the Ophanim met with Ursan Gall’s engineer, Yalom. They convinced him to abandon Thraven’s army and tell Mamma Oissi what he knew. She sent him to Drune. We had forces there, watching and waiting. When we heard what happened on Hell, we were hopeful. We’ve known for a long time that the only chance we have in this fight is to use the enemy’s strengths against them. Their Gift.” She waved at the bridge. “Their ships. But gaining that position has been difficult until now.”

  “You said ships,” Gant said. “Plural.”

  “I know Thraven is building more of them.”

  “They need to be destroyed, not commandeered. You understand how they function, right? Those are living, breathing, humans in the engine room.”

  “We don’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Gant said. “If we destroy the ships, it’ll stop them in their tracks. The Republic fleet has to be strong enough to take out the four that are left, especially with our help.”

  “We only have two torpedoes,” Erlan said. “And we’ve taken a lot of damage.”

  “We can get the damage fixed on Machina Four. Queenie, you’re a Terran. Tell me you don’t agree with this.”

  Abbey looked at him. She could see how much he wanted her on his side. But he only had half a view of the fight ahead of them. She had felt Thraven’s power. They needed to find a way to counter it. If that meant keeping the ships instead of destroying them?

  “It would be temporary. Only until Thraven is gone.”

  “Queenie, go down there with me. See it for yourself. You won’t-”

  “No,” Abbey said, more forcefully than she intended.

  Gant shook his head and made a light sound her translator registered as disappointment. “You know I’ll follow you anywhere you go. But I don’t agree with this. For the record.”

  “I know,” Abbey said.

  “Speaking of choices,” Benhil said. “I’d like to choose to be somewhere else.”

  “Did we recover the Fire?” Abbey asked.

  “No.”

  “Then I still need you. Jequn, where do General Kett and his mainframe fit into all of this?”

  “General Kett fell in love with and married a Watcher. He knows about the war between the Nephilim and the Seraphim. He’s been raising an army to join the fight.”

  “The Republic Council branded him a traitor,” Benhil said.

  “Thraven’s Council, you mean. Do you think he’s a traitor?”

  “I never did,” Abbey said. “There was always something off about the way he was removed from authority.”

  “General Kett has been working to enlist the soldiers loyal to him to the cause, and then get them to safety by providing transportation. But since the location of his base must remain secret, it had to be done in a way that would not threaten its security. The mainframe Thraven wanted you to break is a part of that system.

  “This is how it works: First, the mainframe is delivered to the Crescent Haulers. Then the Haulers pick up the soldiers. They connect the mainframe to their onboard systems. It takes control of the FTL drives and brings the ship to Kett’s location without allowing the vessel’s computer to store the position. The soldiers and equipment are offloaded, and the software sends the Haulers back to the origin. It’s a spatial blindfold of sorts.”

  “Except the Haulers work for Thraven,” Bastion said.

  “No,” Abbey replied. “The Devastator was contracted to work for Thraven. The Haulers as a whole are supposed to be neutral. Besides, if they can’t gather any positioning data, it wouldn’t matter. If the planet is E-type, there are a thousand possibilities. If it isn’t, there are thousands more. But why didn’t Kett’s mainframe in question make it to its destination? And how did Thraven know it was missing and what it contained? There are countless ships crossing the galaxy every second of every day.”

  “It’s possible that we too were betrayed,” Jequn said. “Our carrier was assaulted, the mainframe taken.”

  “If the attackers were working for Thraven, he wouldn’t have needed to send Coli and his team to retrieve it.”

  “Unless his real goal was to get a Breaker involved,” Gant said. “Someone who could help him crack the code.”

  “But why throw me in Hell?” Abbey said. “Why give me the Gift? He could have waited it out and let me keep working on the mainframe aboard the Nova.”

  “The Gift would make you easier to control,” Jequn said. “Imagine you took your findings to the Council. While Thraven controls the majority, he doesn’t have everyone, and you can’t unshoot a gun. They would have known. They would have been curious. This way, everything remained secret. All it cost the Republic was a platoon.”

  “Except the Gift made me harder to control.”

  “He underestimated you.”

  “Good.”

  “Every downfall begins with a single error in judgment. A single mistake. Thraven is not the One. He cannot be perfect. You’re his mistake.”

  “I’ll make sure to remind him of that the next time I see him, which might not be too long from now since we’re planning a trip to Kell. I don’t suppose you have any more Watchers you can throw at him as a distraction?”

  “General Kett ordered me to help you.”

  “Just you?”

  “For now.”

  Abbey didn’t like the sound of that.

  “What about those threads you’re wearing?” Bastion asked. “That isn’t a lightsuit.”

  “No.” She held out her arm and pinched the material of her suit. “This one is based on a Seraphim design. Lighter weight, but more resistant and stronger than a battlesuit. I have something else.” She reached to packs on her hips, withdrawing a pair of thin rods. With the flick of her wrists, they spread into a pair of fanlike blades. “These are called Uin. They are the weapon of choice for the Ophanim. Well, in conjunction with modern ballistics.” She smiled. “As you know, guns have a limited effect on many of the Nephilim.”

  “Those are nice,” Bastion said. “Better than a katana any day.”

  “You’ll have to show me how to use them,” Abbey said. “If I can get a pair somewhere.”

  Jequn snapped her wrists again, and the blades folded up. She handed them to Abbey. “Take these. I brought them for you.”

  “Thank you,” Abbey said, accepting the weapons. She put one into a tightpack and held the other up. It was a small seamless box when closed.

  “Make a motion like you are throwing it to the ground,” Jequn said.

  Abbey did. At first, it felt like the Uin would simply fall out of her hand and onto the floor. Instead, it snapped open, a handle extending and wrapping itself around her palm as it spread and became a blade. Now she could see the separate pieces, each so thin the whole thing was nearly seamless.

  She waved it in the air a few times. It was light, too. Graceful.

  “It isn’t much of a stabbing weapon,” Jequn said. “Cutting is preferred. But it is much sharper than any standard issue knife. Once you have a greater aptitude, you’ll be able to control the deployment of the separate pieces, such that you can hold and fire a gun and keep the Uin in hand at the same time.”

  “Sounds fun,” Abbey said.

  “What do you need it for?” Pik asked. “You have claws.”

  “You can never have too many weapons,” Abbey said.

  “You’re the weapon we’ve been waiting for,” Jequn said. “The weapon we need.”

  Abbey reversed the throwing motion, and the Uin folded up. She tucked them into tightpacks and then let her eyes travel across the bridge, pausing on each of the individuals gathered there. In the end, it didn’t matter if she believed in the One or Elysium. It only mattered that their place in the universe was being threatened, and through whatever twist of fate or bad luck or mistake, she was one of the individuals responsible for doing somethi
ng about it. She had never backed down from a challenge before, and she damn sure wasn’t going to start now.

  She wasn’t letting her team off the hook, either.

  “Well, Rejects, it seems like it’s time to do some more evil.”

  “So nobody else has to,” Bastion said.

  “Hell, yeah,” Pik added.

  “Hell, yeah,” Abbey replied.

  3

  The shuttle eased its way across the downtown traffic, taking advantage of its cargo to use one of the reserved flight lanes en route to the Pentagon.

  Captain Olus Mann observed the maneuver from his seat in the rear of the transport, smirking slightly at the move. There wasn’t all that much above-ground traffic left in D.C. these days. But the pilot had an excuse to hit the VIP lanes, and he had used it.

  Olus didn’t expect to be a VIP for much longer. He was scheduled to meet with General Omsala in ten minutes, a meeting he had prepared for with guns and armor, not documents and words. He knew from Thraven himself that Omsala was loyal to the Gloritant, not the Republic. He knew he was heading for a face-to-face intended to at best discredit him, and at worst apprehend him.

  He was betting on the worst.

  He was ready for it.

  He looked down at the Pentagon as the shuttle made its approach. The building had been torn down and reconstructed a few times in its long history, each time growing a little higher and extending a little deeper. Each time gaining more glass and metal and less drab stone. Each time retaining its original, symbolic shape. As the center of military operations for the entire Republic, it was intended to evoke the military history of the United States, while also evoking the future as a combined power. Not just of Earth, but of all of the planets under the Republic flag.

  He thought it was effective.

  The shuttle slowed and descended, landing in a specially marked spot only VIPs could reach from the air. Olus could see the thick form of Omsala as they got closer, surprised the Fizzig was waiting for him outside. Earth’s gravity wasn’t the most forgiving for the race’s dense bones and thick, heavy skin. The General was making a statement. Asserting his power, and by extension Thraven’s power.