Rebirth (Cross Book 1)

by Hildred Billings

  Marlow did not know that man any longer.

  He could never admit, even before present company, that he still loved him regardless of the abominations Nerilis brought into the universe.

  ***

  It took Devon forty-five minutes to travel to the Baywalk, thanks to after work congestion on the trolley. Living on the other side of the city also did not help.

  The evening was still warm enough to support a small flurry of tourists and lazy city-folk walking down the boardwalk lining the street and jutting far enough into the bay to provoke warning signs on every lamppost and street vendor. By now, however, the vendors were closed. Only a few like Devon – mostly joggers, dog walkers, and couples – moved to the viewing area.

  Devon was in the northern end of the Baywalk, surrounded by restaurants with turrets and tourist shops full of overpriced souvenirs. He was instructed to travel to the southern end, where there were fewer witnesses. He shoved his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt and pushed on.

  There was one other person in the southernmost viewing area, sitting on a bench with her legs crossed. A gray sweatshirt concealed her identity, the hood pulled up to cover both her hair and eyes. She tilted her head up to acknowledge Devon’s approach.

  “Are you the one who called me earlier?” He would not dance around any issues.

  The woman sat in silence for an ungodly amount of time before withdrawing her hand to scratch her nose. “Yup.” She pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. “And here you are.”

  Devon looked at his watch. Five after six. “What do you want?”

  Miranda stuck her cigarette in her mouth before answering him with more words shrouded in smoke. “What does anyone want? World peace.”

  “You called me all the way out here for that?”

  “How old are you?”

  “What?”

  She sighed. “How old are you?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Answer me.”

  Devon furrowed his eyes in indignation. “Twenty-two.”

  A laugh escaped Miranda’s lips. “Good God. You keep getting younger and younger.”

  “Fuck you. It’s my turn to ask a question now.”

  “All right.”

  He shielded his chest with his arms. “Who are you?”

  “Oh…” Miranda kept smoking, an excuse to not have to talk. “I knew that was coming.”

  “Do I know you?”

  She tilted her head up far enough, thin lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Yes,” she said, “and no.”

  “Are you with Dunsman?”

  “It’s my turn to ask a question.” Miranda shook the ash from her cigarette onto the cement. “How much do you remember?”

  “I’ve regressed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Oh. So you remember everything, then?”

  “Enough.”

  “Hmph.” Miranda turned her head. “Tell me the names of the people you worked with.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Please, humor your elder.”

  Devon cleared his throat, his fist hardening. “I worked with Sulim.”

  “Of course you did. Who else did you work with?”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “Do it. Now.”

  “Barnaba was the name of another man. He worked with Giselle.”

  “Who did you take your orders from?”

  Devon did not like where this went. “A woman named Cairn.”

  “And what was your position at the end?”

  “I was Second. It meant that if anything happened to Cairn, I became the chief.”

  Miranda leaned forward, her elbows on her knees as her hands clenched together. “You didn’t think you would get that position, though, did you?”

  “I thought it would go to Sulim.”

  “Why didn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. I never questioned it. She had a good position anyway. She was Cairn’s bodyguard. It kept her safe until…”

  “Until that old man demanded the two best mercenaries, right?”

  “Sulim and I were partners before we received our final stations. We were the best. We were promised it would be our last official mission together.”

  “I’m sure you were.”

  Devon shook his hands out. “Is this why you called me out here? To make fun of me?”

  “Hardly.” Miranda dropped her cigarette and extinguished it with her shoes. “I guess I just wanted to officially meet you.”

  “I wouldn’t call this a meeting. You won’t even tell me who you are. Are you related to Dunsman?”

  Miranda laughed. “Related? Certainly, if you’re going to use that word.”

  “I am.”

  “Well, then, I’m related to Dunsman.”

  When she refused to speak any more, Devon asked, “What do you want with me if it’s not twenty questions?”

  “I want you to deliver a message to your partner for me.”

  “Really. You couldn’t do this yourself, because?”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “I see. Couldn’t you have told me on the phone?”

  “Oh, but I wouldn’t have been able to see your familiar face.”

  “Familiar?”

  “We’ve met before.”

  “Ah. Well, what is it, then?”

  Miranda stood. “Tell her that I apologize for my actions last night. That was quite rude of me. Assault, really.”

  “What? Beating her up?”

  “Yes. Beating her.”

  Devon scoffed. “This is such bullshit. You didn’t call me out here to tell me to apologize to Danielle for something you did. Stop wasting my time and either try to kill me or get this over with.”

  “Well, if you’re going to be testy, then I guess I’ll have to humor you. Sadly, I don’t really want to kill you, especially in public like this.”

  “Then what?”

  A breeze blew across the bay with enough force to drown Devon’s words. His hair rustled in the chill, but he did not flinch.

  Just enough time for Miranda to gather the courage to act.

  She wrapped her fingers around her hood, her chin tilting upward as the gray fabric fell away to reveal strands of shining brown hair. Reflections of the sunlight sprung from her roots and glittered like gold, blinding Devon.

  “So, it is you,” he said the moment he recognized her. Not just from the day he pulled Alicia away from a dangerous situation. But from his visions. His dreams. His locked-away memories that were now as much of a part of his life as anything else.

  Miranda tried her best not to smile. “I’m so happy that I made an impression on you.”

  “You’re Danielle’s boss, right? She’s suspected you all along.”

  “That’s why she’s the smart one.”

  This was still anticlimactic for Devon, who first stared at Miranda with curiosity, then relief, and now morbid disdain – he could not even explain where this disdain came from. With the wind now blowing with formidable strength, Miranda’s hair looked darker in the sunlight. Even in jeans and a sweatshirt, her lean and muscular body looked strong enough to propel her through enough hardships in her life to last her a dozen more.

  “Why are you staring at me?” Miranda’s lips curved into a smile. “Do I scare you?”

  Devon was at a loss of words. Something clamored inside his head.

  “I think you know me.”

  For the first time since regressing, Devon saw the line between his apparent self and the remnants of Sonall inside his memory. It was Sonall who spoke before Devon could grasp who – or what – stood before him.

  “Maiyo-to!” He swung his hand to grasp the weapon he no longer carried in his belt., Miranda responded in a language only Sonall could understand.

  “Maiyo-er.” She stepped toward him, eyes piercing his violent gaze. “For the sake of the Void, at ease.”

  Devon was back in complete co
ntrol of his body as the man inside of him overcame his shock. “This isn’t possible.”

  “Now take a message to your boss for me, will you?” Miranda stood only an arm’s length away. “Tell him I want what’s mine.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. “I let it go last night, but I want it back now. It’s mine. It always has been.”

  “With all due respect,” the disdain dripped from his mouth, “it’s not just yours. It belongs to anyone who does not wish to destroy this planet. Any planet.”

  “I won’t let Earth fall. We work together as far as that is concerned. Bring me back my ring, and I will help you vanquish the demon that wants to ruin our existence.”

  “But it’s safe now.”

  “It will never be safe as long as she refuses to regress. I’ve done all I can for her. All that’s left is to stop this madness.”

  “I can’t bring you the ring. You know that.”

  “Then tonight the world will begin to dismantle, and tomorrow the world will end. You will return to the Process, and you will be reborn on whatever target that man has his sights set on next.”

  “But he can’t destroy it without that ring.”

  “He will take it. He will kill you and take it.”

  “I can’t bring it.”

  “Do you love her?”

  Devon straightened up. “What?”

  “If you loved her,” Miranda continued, “you would want her to regress and eventually escape the Process, yes?”

  “I…”

  “I’m not that far in denial to think that you’ve never cared for her. I won’t admonish you for something like love. But if this planet dies, then she will die again, and she will be still further from regaining her right to die, and that is the foulest thing.”

  “What about you? Will you die too?”

  Miranda gave a noncommittal shrug. “I will do what I always do. If you won’t bring me the ring, then protect it with your life. Protect it, and her, with your life. If one dies, then so will the other. Do not leave her side. If you fail her, I will never forgive you.”

  “I know. It’s always about you.”

  “No. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for her. Surely you can understand that.”

  “Ugh!” Devon turned away from her, his temper surging through his body and his brain ruined with disgust. “I suppose you want all of this to be a secret, too, right?”

  “It’s not just what I want… it’s also imperative that you not mention me to anyone. You know what will happen.”

  In a wondrous combination of Sonall’s irritability and Devon’s immaturity, the young man flipped his middle finger at Miranda before he took off running across the Baywalk. As he disappeared into the sunlight, Miranda pulled out that cigarette she wanted, figuring it would last long enough for a walk to her car. Her headache from the cocaine was gone now, but a new pain spread from her stomach. She had no idea what would happen in the coming days. She could only hope things were different this time.

  “Maiyo-to my ass,” she muttered between drags of her cigarette. “Pretty ballsy for a grunt like him to speak to me that way.” She found her car. “I’m no fucking traitor.”

  FORTY-FIVE

  Lanelle arrived to work after lunch, punctual as always but still not early enough for Evan’s tastes. He sat in his chair with a sandwich in his lap for Lanelle to see the moment she rounded the corner.

  “Is eating the only thing you do?” She plopped her bag onto her chair and sat down. “I hope your wife knows you’re trying to give yourself a coronary.”

  “Knows? She made this sandwich.” Evan wiped his mouth. “Anyway, I am so glad you’re here, because the boss called me in earlier and…”

  “You were fired? Thank the Void. I can finally get work done.”

  “…Made me look at some weird shit.”

  Lanelle logged into her computer. An array of colorful screens appeared on the white surface before her, and she spent a minute trying to decide which application to open first. Her expertise was in everything Marlow himself studied, watered down for the human species to comprehend. Evan was the man hired for his knowledge in Earth Studies. Both served as Marlow’s personal assistants – taking notes, organizing files, going to meetings with councils on his behalf, appearing as public relations on TV – more than doing anything else, but Lanelle took particular pride in her five-lives’ worth of documentation and research into Nerilis Dunsman’s methods. Compared to her, Evan was an immature hindrance.

  “I’m serious, Lanelle. Some freaky shit.”

  They spoke the same standard dialect, but Evan’s predilection for using slang and vulgarities wore on Lanelle’s sensibilities. Even after five lives, she still considered herself the young educated lady of privilege she was originally born as hundreds of years before. “And what is this ‘freaky shit,’ Evan? More Earth television?” She didn’t care for the tasteless programs.

  “This is what I’m talking about.” Evan still had the bio-scanner nearby and tossed it through one of Lanelle’s holograms. The disturbance in her digital reading material made her lurch back in her chair. “I’ll let you take it in for a little bit.”

  Lanelle was more annoyed by the hologram interference than she was interested in the scanner. But she picked up the small black device and stared at its screen. Beside her, Evan drank his electrolytes, waiting for a reaction like a little brother watching his older sister open a box full of toads.

  “What is this? Some joke?” Lanelle tossed the scanner back onto the table. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “It’s real. I was there when we scanned it. Sulim brought the sample in.”

  “You mean Danielle did, and I don’t care what it says, there’s no way there’s a half-human, half-julah on Earth that nobody knows about.”

  “Apparently there is.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Who’s the progenitor? Definitely not Master Marlow.”

  “According to Su-I mean, Danielle, it’s a sample from a woman believed to be associated with Dunsman.”

  Lanelle stopped swiping apps and glared at Evan. “Surely you’re not suggesting that…”

  “Dunsman bred? Why wouldn’t he? Even those old sorcerers get a full head sometimes like the rest of us.”

  “Don’t talk to me about your erections.”

  “Come on, you’re the Dunsman expert between the two of us. Why would a mad man bent on destroying as many planets as he could suddenly slow down to have a kid?”

  Lanelle twirled her long hair around her finger. “No, it doesn’t, which is why I don’t believe it. Dunsman has never had any documented children… but if it’s true… I’m going to have to put it in the files, aren’t I?”

  “That is one reason I showed it to you.”

  “It’s going to bother me all day.”

  A flashing red screen appeared on every single hologram throughout the room – a large feat, considering Evan and Lanelle’s workspace was shared with some of the Federation’s high-intelligence officers. Evan nearly dropped his sandwich again.

  “Oh sweet Void, are we under attack?” Lanelle tried to hack into the security database through one back-up hologram. “What is going on?”

  “Attention all personnel,” the feminized voice-over echoed in the large room said. “Intelligence received from Earth ambassadors: Earth facing destruction. Repeat, Earth facing destruction. All defense units report to the command center.”

  “Not this again.” Lanelle picked up a line connecting her to Marlow’s office. She had seen this sort of panic before, regarding Dunsman’s previous target Alora’k II, and the one before that, and the one before that… the same announcement made every time a planet became unstable due to its stressed Relics. Evan, however, had never seen such organized chaos flashing before him. He thought about calling his wife, but figured that breached confidentiality.

  “What’s going on?” he asked Lanelle, who still tried to patch through to her boss.

&
nbsp; “They’re running out of time, that’s what’s going on,” she snapped. “Pretty soon Earth will begin to dismantle.”

  “That’s not good.” Evan was sick in the pit of his stomach. He morbidly wondered what it was like to watch six billion people die.

  He then wondered if this meant he would soon be out of a job.

  ***

  “What are you doing here?”

  Devon shoved Danielle aside in her own doorway. She continued to stand there, awestruck at his audacity, before following him into the living room.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Guided by the sharp sting in her voice, Devon attempted to alleviate the tension in his face. “It’s… it’s nothing. I just thought maybe we should stick together, you know? I think now more than ever we should spend little time apart until this is over.”

  “I guess.” Danielle lowered her arms. “I’ve already eaten dinner, though, so you’ll have to take care of yourself for that. I was about to take a shower and then lounge around before bed… are you paying attention to me?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve already eaten, too. What did you have for dinner?”

  “Fast food.”

  “Of all the things you could possibly eat before dying…”

  Danielle ignored his lack of tact and went to take that shower. Between her irritability and his rising anger, they spent the evening in silence and at least two cushions seated away from each other.

  Yet Danielle did not tell him to sleep on the couch. She lay on her stomach and tilted her head away from him, arms curled around her pillow and hands spread palms-open on the sheets. Devon stripped down to his shirt and boxers before climbing in beside her, a gap still existing between them as it had all night. Danielle went to sleep almost immediately, and Devon was left to stare at the bedroom around him.

  Eventually, he turned over onto his side and gazed at the back of Danielle’s head, her light blond hair a shimmering contrast of lazy beauty in the moonlight when compared to the harsh dark hair beaming in the sunlight earlier. Devon forced himself to not think about Miranda or anything she said – what did she say, anyway? The moment Devon left the Baywalk, he felt everything he knew slip away. He reached the point where all he remembered was that Miranda was not somebody to trust.