by M. R. Forbes
“You just don’t know Queenie that well yet,” Bastion said. “You should see how she treats her friends.”
“Imp, can you shut up?” Abbey said, at the same time glad to see his sense of humor was returning.
“Rarely,” Bastion replied.
“I can be useful,” the Apostant said. “I can serve you as an Under.”
“I don’t keep slaves,” Abbey said.
“Please? I’m begging you. Don’t leave me here.”
“I never thought I would see the day,” Herschel said. He looked over at the Apostant. “You’ve changed your tune in a hurry, haven’t you? You should bring him along, my Lady. I’m sure we can find something to do with him. You must have heavy things that need to be moved around, at the least.”
Abbey smiled. Herschel had no idea.
“What’s your name?” Abbey asked.
“Shidel.”
“All right, Shidel. I’ll bring you along. Stay close, though. I don’t want anyone to accidentally kill you.”
He looked back at Herschel, but the freed slave had already returned to gathering the others.
“So, Queenie,” Bastion said. “How the frag are we going to get all these individuals and all those ships back to the Covenant, again?”
“You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
“Sure I will.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Come on, Queenie. I just watched you turn into a fragging phoenix over our heads. I’m pretty sure you can do just about anything, including turning water into wine.”
“Let’s not go that far. I’m sorry, Bastion. I should have been the one to stop things, not Pik.”
“Wow, dropping the handles? This is serious.” Bastion smiled and waved his hand. “If it makes you feel better, you’re forgiven. Besides, it’s only fair. I’ve seen you naked, now you’ve seen me naked. Maybe we could try being naked together sometime?”
“I don’t have to tell you that’s an asshole comment for you to know that’s an asshole comment, right?”
He laughed. “Yup. I figured you owed me.”
“Then consider us square.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
“Keep an eye on things for me, will you?”
“Sure. Where are you going?”
“Back to the Covenant.” She motioned to Shidel. “Come on.”
“You’re leaving us here?” Bastion said.
“It’s temporary. Just make sure you’re on one of the ships when Okay gives the word.”
She could tell he was confused about her leaving. She smiled once her back was to him. What she had in mind wasn’t at the level of water into wine, but it was sure to impress.
29
“Keeper, can you find somewhere to put Shidel that’s away from the slaves? He was a Nephilim Apostant, one of Prophet Azul’s.”
Shidel backed away a few steps as Keeper approached him.
“What is he now?” Keeper asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Abbey replied.
“Surely this is a servant of the Dark One,” Shidel said, clearly afraid of the intelligence.
“Dark One?” Abbey asked.
“The evil at the heart of the Shard. The deceiver who tricked and imprisoned the Seraphim. The one the Father asks that we destroy.”
“Funny that you should be worried about someone who you think enslaved your kind,” Benhil said, entering the hangar. “You wanted to see me, Queenie?”
“We’re going to be bringing a lot of equipment aboard, along with a lot of former slaves. I’ll need your help organizing it all.”
“No problem.”
“He has a point,” Abbey said, looking at Shidel.
Shidel laughed. “How can you even suggest they are the same thing? We created the Lessers. We created the Unders. We made them, and as such we own them.”
“You aren’t a pure blooded Seraphim,” Keeper said.
“Those who rise to Apostant status become full-blooded by the strength of their desire.”
“Or by being lucky enough to be born to a slave who caught an Apostant’s eye,” Abbey said.
Shidel’s face flushed.
“Did you go to school?” Benhil asked. “I think you need a few lessons on genetics. You can’t just magically become full-blooded.”
“What do you know? You’re a Lesser.”
“Watch your mouth, Shidel,” Abbey said. “Joker’s part of my crew. And everyone on my crew is equal.”
“Well, some of us are more equal than others,” Gant said, entering with Uriel and Jequn. “And nobody is equal to you, Queenie.”
“And some of us are just more adorable,” Benhil said. “Right squirrel-man?”
Gant shook his head. “Anyway, who’s the shirtless wonder?”
“Shidel. He was a Nephilim Baron.”
“What is he now?”
Abbey rolled her eyes. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Don’t let the former slaves see him,” Uriel said. “They’ll rip him to shreds.”
“They already tried on Naqul.”
“And failed? Too bad.” Uriel smiled.
“You said we had new tech incoming that you wanted me to take a look at,” Gant said. “Where is it?”
“I wouldn’t call it new tech. Probably more like old tech that we need to make work like new. Or maybe do something else with. I want you and Keeper to figure out what’s worth saving, and what’s better off salvaging.”
“Aye, Queenie. Is that before or after I finish calibrating the teleporter?”
“What do you mean? It worked great the first time.”
Gant made a face. “Uhh.”
“I don’t like that sound,” Abbey said. “I used the teleporter. I came out in one piece.”
“Uhh,” Gant said again.
“Uriel, do you know what he’s talking about?”
Uriel remained silent.
“The calibration was off,” Gant said. “It wasn’t my fault, not that time. One of the crystals was out of alignment. I only discovered it while you were gone. You came about a tenth of a millimeter from not reconstituting at the other end of the beam.”
“I’m glad you’re telling me this now.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to tell you if it had failed.”
“Well, I’m not dead, and I don’t need the teleporter right now, so let’s go with before.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Abbey said.
“Where are you going?” Uriel asked.
“Cherub and I have a miracle to work.”
“We do?” Jequn said.
“Yup. Come on.”
They walked away, leaving the others standing in the landing bay trying to figure out what she meant. They made their way across to the central shaft, riding a nearby tube down to the Core. Abbey stripped off the remains of her slave clothes as they did, leaving herself in only the Shardsuit. She had used a lot of energy in the market, but she still felt strong. The naniates weren’t fighting her like they used to and had given in to her will.
“What are we doing?” Jequn asked as they bypassed the Core on the way to the Shard’s tomb.
“You’ve used the Focus before, through the Seedships?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to use the Focus. But I don’t know how. I need your help.”
“Oh. I’m honored, Queenie.”
“Your blood is tainted. You can’t use it directly. But I need you to walk me through it.”
“Oh. Anything I can do to help,” she said, clearly disappointed. “There’s no way to cleanse me, the way the Light cleansed you?”
“I don’t know. When I shared my blood with Uriel, he lost the Gift completely. I don’t know how the Blood from the Focus will interact with yours. I’m a little worried it could kill you.”
“I understand.” She stopped walking, causing Abbey to stop, too. “I’m willing to take the chance.”
“I kn
ow,” Abbey said. “I’m not. Not right now. I need you the way you are.”
Jequn nodded. “Of course, Queenie. Maybe when this is over? The Focus could save my life.”
“Definitely.”
They entered the open space that was the Shard’s tomb. There was a constant glow around it, coming from the energy that was pumped into the apparatus to keep the Shard’s body alive enough to continue feeding the naniates, and from the white blood that circulated through the device. Abbey approached it purposefully, walking to the side and looking down at the Shard. Then she put her hands on the transparency above him, activating the Focus.
She felt the energy flow through her hands as the Seraphim writing appeared around them. The first time, she had been unable to read the sigils and symbols. Now the naniates were translating for her, allowing her to understand the writing. It changed shape and layout, becoming Earth Standard.
Density levels at thirty percent. No anomalies detected. Extension nodes offline. Optimization fifty percent.
“Do you know what optimization means?” she asked.
“I’ve never used the Focus directly,” Jequn replied. “I don’t know.”
“Whatever it means, fifty percent seems low,” she said.
So did thirty percent density. How long would it take to restore the Focus to full power? Was it even possible?
Probably not right now.
She kept her fingers pressed to the Focus, staring through the writing to the face of the Shard. He had looked peaceful before, but now a part of her felt like he was angry because of the way she had used his Blood. Too bad.
“Keeper, can you hear me?” Abbey said, speaking out loud.
“Aye, Queenie,” Keeper replied. “What do you need?”
“Contact the Rejects on the surface and find out if everyone is loaded up and ready to go.”
“Aye, Queenie. Standby.”
She waited a few seconds for him to communicate with the others.
“Queenie, Imp says that he’s prepared for you to part the Red Sea, but I don’t understand the meaning of the statement.”
“I do,” Abbey replied. “Asshole. Cherub?”
“Aye, Queenie,” Jequn said.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Right. I’ve only ever used the Node on the Seedship before. The way we do it is to form a circle around the Nodule and push our energy into it. We have to visualize what we want the Focus to do, not unlike using the Gift individually, except we all need to think of the same thing.”
“Why did it take more than one of you?”
Jequn laughed. “The energy requirements are pretty steep. Maybe you can work it on your own, but other than the Shard nobody else has ever been able to.”
“I bet Thraven could.”
“If he were to get his hands on the Focus, yes.”
“So I just use it like I were using the Gift?”
“Yes. And no.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You have to link with the Focus to use it. It can be disorienting, and as you might have guessed, it takes focus to control.”
“Of course. Do you have any tips?”
“Whatever you see, whatever you feel, remember that it isn’t real.”
“Did you come up with that rhyme?”
“I think it only rhymes in Earth Standard.”
Abbey smiled. “Coincidentally, I guess. Keep an eye on me, will you?”
“I can’t bring you back, once you’re in. You have to navigate the Focus on your own.”
“I should have guessed. Keeper, tell the others to stand by, and whatever happens, to stay calm.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
Abbey closed her eyes, first turning her attention to the naniates within her, spreading her attention to the tickle beneath her skin and the tingling within her blood. Then she reached outward, allowing herself to sense the pressure of the Focus against her fingertips, and visualize the face of the Shard behind it. She felt a chill begin to rise from her hands, a vibration of energy that was similar to the Gift, and yet so much more.
“That’s it,” Jequn said. “You’re doing it.”
She kept her hands on it, changing her mind’s eye, moving it out of the Covenant and back to the surface. She saw the market. The bodies were strewn across it, both slavers and slaves. She swooped past it, over the wall to the ships beyond, a whole field of ships, loaded down with freed slaves and her Rejects.
“Queenie,” Keeper said, the sudden urgency of his voice nearly breaking her focus. “Sensors detect a dozen warships have entered the system. Prophet Tega’s military has arrived.”
30
Focus.
Abbey clenched her eyes tighter. How the frag was she supposed to focus when they were about to be under attack.
“Damn, they got here in a hurry,” she said. “Keeper, do whatever you have to do to keep them away from the ships on the surface.”
“Queenie, they are releasing fighters toward both us and the planet.”
“How many?”
“Fifteen to the planet, thirty-eight toward us.”
“You’ve got guns, get ready to use them.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
“And tell Imp to find something he can fly. Preferably something with guns. He has thirty seconds.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
“You’re losing it,” Jequn said.
Abbey could feel the power draining away, her control of the Focus beginning to wane.
She redoubled her efforts, recentering her visualization on the ships arranged near the market, waiting for an exodus from the planet. She didn’t know what each one looked like. She hoped she didn’t need to. Instead, she pictured them all as black rectangles with no thrusters, all except one. She tried to interpose Bastion’s face on that one, to tell the Focus to leave his ship alone and let him fly.
She could feel the power flowing through her, up one arm, along her spine, down her back and out the other arm, back into the focus. Her body ran cold, shivering as though it was absorbing ice. She kept her mind on the ships, picturing them resting in a massive hand.
A face appeared in the vision. A demon face. A monster’s face. It was cruel and evil and made of flame, and its mouth opened wide, sweeping toward the ships while it laughed.
“You are nothing, Abigail Cage,” it said, it’s voice deep and harsh. “You will fail. Your daughter will die.”
Whatever you see, whatever you feel, remember that it isn’t real.
That’s what Jequn had told her. She fought to ignore the demon face. She fought to stay focused on the ships.
She lifted her hand as if she were holding them all. All except one.
She couldn’t see it, but on the surface of Naqul, nearly two hundred slave ships began to rise.
“What are you fighting for, Abigail?” the demon said, its teeth digging into the edge of the line of ships, knocking three of them back to the surface. “The One? The One is a lie. The Shard is false. Surely you’ve felt it. Surely you’ve seen it.”
She felt her heart beating, thumping so hard and fast she could hear it in her ears. It isn’t real. The Focus is bringing out your fears, using them against you. Testing you.
Everything with the Shard had to be a fragging test, didn’t it?
She breathed in deeply, ignoring the demon. She concentrated on bringing the ships up from the surface, carrying them through the atmosphere, into orbit, and from orbit into the waiting mouth of the Covenant.
“Keeper, how are we doing?” she asked.
“The Prophet’s ships are moving in,” Keeper replied. “We did well against the starfighters, forcing them to retreat.”
That was at least partially good news.
“What about Imp?”
She kept her mind’s eye on the ships, carrying them ever higher.
“This is her future, Abigail,” the demon said, seizing on her momentary lapse.
Behind the ships was her daughter covered
in blood, her teeth elongated, her eyes red. She was holding a dismembered arm in her hands, bringing it to her mouth.
She nearly lost her focus. Two more of the ships tumbled away, plummeting back to the ground. Was she dropping them or were they being shot out of the sky? Where was Bastion?
“He says he is doing the best he can with the ancient piece of shit he was given,” Keeper said, finally replying. “The fighters are targeting the unarmed ships.”
What she was doing wasn’t good enough. The former slaves were open targets, and dozens of them had been lost already.
“The Prophet’s ships are firing on us, Queenie,” Keeper said.
Abbey heaved out her breath, trying hard not to get frustrated. A Breaker had to stay calm under pressure. She needed that calm now.
She visualized the ships again. The Focus had destroyed almost all of the life in the galaxy. It had to be able to do something to protect them.
“Keeper, do you have a link to the Focus?” she asked.
“Aye, Queenie.”
“Does that mean you have a link to the naniates?”
“Aye, Queenie.”
“If I plant them in the systems of the ships, would you be able to connect to their control systems?”
“Of course.”
Abbey pushed her hands harder against the Focus, lowering her head and concentrating. The energy was flowing through her so quickly that it seemed like one long stream, a closed loop operating at maximum efficiency. She redirected the Gift, sending millions of naniates through the hulls of the slave ships, visualizing their central control systems, imagining them covered with the invisible machines.
“Keeper, tell me when you have them.”
“I am linking as quickly as I can,” Keeper said.
“Forget about flight control; I’ll handle that. If they’re armed, activate weapons and target the Nephilim fighters. If they have shields, power them up.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
She kept the slave ships rising, lifting them with her invisible hand. The demon face appeared behind them, sweeping toward them.
“Your worlds will die, Abigail,” it said. “All that you love will be lost. You cannot stop it.”
“Frag you,” Abbey replied.
The face burned away, fading to the black. She maintained her concentration, guiding the ships to the Covenant. The seconds passed as minutes, everything happening so damn slowly.