by Matt Larkin
Rachel leaned against the smart glass. How could she knowingly cause her own brother such pain? The moment she spoke, he would spiral into the abyss of doubt and pain. And maybe, maybe he would never find his way free. But then … to leave him mired in self-delusion was perhaps still the crueler act.
“Raziel told me … the angels lied to us. They told us what they thought we needed to hear in order to listen to them. God never sent them, Miah. They’ve never seen God, never spoken to Him. They’re just aliens.”
“Lies!” Jeremiah jumped to his feet. He clenched his hands at his side, sputtering and grinding his teeth.
Though he feigned rage, she could feel the undercurrents of horror seeping out of his cell. She had broken something within him, and his universe was crumbling around him.
“I’m sorry, brother.”
The bitter truth was all she had to offer him. He sank to his knees, and his head fell to his chest. Rachel sighed and left him. Time alone with his thoughts might be his only remedy.
Outside the brig, she found Knight waiting for her.
“What is it?”
“We’ll reach Eden soon,” he said.
“Yeah.” It would be nice to see Degana again. Thomas’s sister was a sweet girl who loved to laugh and tried to look for the bright side in everything. Her brother’s death had broken her heart, but she’d kept going with a smile on her face and a kind word for Rachel at every turn. Rachel wasn’t going to let her down now.
“I’m coming with you. The last time you went to a secret meeting the Redeemers broke it up. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She smiled and walked with him toward the lift. His earnest loyalty warmed her. Less than a year ago, he’d been a brutal killer who feigned indifference to the people around him. Faced with Armageddon, Knight had become a hero. More than that—he’d become a nephil, a being of legend. His telekinetic powers were shocking, even if he had little in the way of other psych abilities.
“I’m proud of you,” she said.
He cleared his throat, saying nothing.
Still a bit socially awkward, but that was improving too.
“You know David is going to be there. He’s more than capable of protecting me, Knight.”
“Yeah. Still going.”
6
“Do we want to terraform every planet in the universe? Of course not. Some are gas giants. You can’t terraform a gas giant because there’s no terra there. You’d have to, I don’t know, freeze the gas and gasform it. And that would just be … be … Huh. Abigail! Make a note! New project: gasformed giants.”
Omar Petrov, Laban Worlds CEO
NEW EDEN, MILKY WAY
Knight exited the shuttle behind Rachel and David, with Phoebe on his heels. He wore his helmet up to protect against the thin atmosphere. The red planet had never been terraformed, so the colonists here had constructed several domed enclosures. Eventually the NER would look to hire Laban Worlds to terraform this planet as the capital of the Republic. They were already calling it New Eden.
That was, of course, if the angels allowed this place to exist.
And they wouldn’t.
It represented a direct challenge to their authority. In a way, they ruled like the Shadow Council of Gehenna. Absolute authority enforced through terror. Men obeyed the Shadow Council because if they didn’t, the Gibborim showed up. Now, the angels threatened to destroy whole fucking planets if mankind didn’t get in line.
Knight had had more than enough of totalitarian regimes. A republic sounded like idealist nonsense to him, but it was about a trillion times better than the alternative.
It was a short trek from the landing platform to the central dome where they were to meet Rachel’s friend. Red dust kicked up under their boots as they walked, especially Rachel, who clearly had no practice at stepping lightly. When they reached the dome, she buzzed the airlock.
Knight followed the others inside then removed his helmet once air whooshed into the chamber. The dome beyond was perhaps five kilometers in diameter. Not large for a center of government, so people were tightly packed among narrow streets. Hovers whizzed by, carrying supplies—crates marked with the cornucopia of Manna Products. It would be a long time before people on this planet could grow more than small hydroponic gardens.
Knight’s fingers twitched at the mass of people so close. His pulse pistol was folded into the thigh holster on his suit, but he could eject it and fire in a heartbeat. With so many here, it was hard to tell who might be a Redeemer agent. And those chameleon gog things could be anywhere.
He had failed to protect Rachel from one of those creatures once. He would not repeat the mistake.
He swore something moved in the shadow of an alley. Knight took a step toward the shifting darkness.
“That’s him,” someone said.
“The nephil!”
He turned to see a small crowd forming around their group.
“Your fame precedes you, big guy,” Phoebe said.
“Shite, we don’t need this,” David said, as more and more people flocked around them, clogging the already narrow walkways.
“Are you here to lead us into the light?” a child asked.
“The what now?” Knight asked.
“They say you’re half angel,” another man said. “That you can crush a ship with your mind.”
“Uh, no. A shuttle, maybe.” He tried to shoulder his way through, but it was like the whole damn colony had come out to see the freak.
Several fell to their knees. “Save us, navi,” a woman said. “Bless us.”
Knight shrugged and stepped around her. This was off rotation. They thought he was a messiah? If God spoke through anyone’s voice, it would not be Knight’s.
“Hey!” Rachel shouted. “He’s not a damned navi. Move on.”
A pair of young women stepped in front of him, twins by the look of it. One had hair dyed green, the other dyed blue. “Excuse me,” the blue-haired one said. “Can we have your seed?”
Knight’s jaw dropped, and he sputtered. He’d thought with the Shekhinah gone, maybe the need to spread his DNA would evaporate too.
Phoebe shoved both girls to either side. “Sorry, ladies, he’s fresh out. No planting of seeds going on today. But if you stick around, I may be willing to plant my boot up your asses.” She grabbed Knight’s arm and yanked him after her. “And you, don’t get too excited there.”
“I wasn’t!”
“Right. For future reference, let’s just assume I’m the only farmer in charge of your seed. I’ll tell you when and where to plant it, m’kay?”
David snickered from behind. Knight gave him the finger without turning around.
Phoebe pulled him along until they reached a central building, marked with the letters N-E-R. They were going to need a symbol at some point. Something striking and bold.
A guard at the door scanned their palms to check DNA, then waved them inside. A secretary escorted them to a meeting room where a half-dozen Sentinel captains sat around a table, debating with each other and even more politicians. Knight recognized two of them from prior meetings. A hori woman rose as they approached and rushed over to embrace Rachel.
“Degana. So good to see you.”
“You too! I heard you got married. I can’t believe you didn’t invite me.”
“It was kind of a rush thing.”
“Yeah, well … is this the lucky guy?” She turned to David and offered a hand.
He took it and nodded. “Nice to see you again, Ms. O’Malley.”
“Probably safe to call me Degana at this point, Captain. Won’t you have a seat?”
David and Rachel took a place at the table and joined the debate.
Knight took up a position against the wall. “Is the ship safe with both you and David here?” he asked Phoebe.
“Yup, yup. He left Leah in charge. This was too important for me to stay behind.”
Several other officers also stood or sat around the rim of
the room. He supposed the formation of a new republic was something everyone wanted to be part of.
“Look, MacGregor,” one of the captains said, “we all know Hannah Hertz is leading reunification on your behalf.”
“Hannah’s no puppet,” David said.
“Be that as it may—she’ll follow where you lead. If you join us and convince her to do the same, the NER will have a real fighting chance.”
“Aye, maybe so. But the angels are just as liable to strike down any kind of central government like this. While you’re building a symbol to unite mankind, they’ll be burning it down. How can I throw myself behind a venture that’s already doomed, like as not?”
“It’s not doomed,” Degana said. “We just have to make a stand and defend it.”
“You’re losing the whole bloody galaxy already. Four hundred systems are lost, as of this morning. And we want to help you, we truly do, but I’m not sure we’re prepared to stand up to the Ark. Much less a whole angel fleet and the rest of the Sentinels.”
“So you’d have us continue to run and hide?” another captain asked. “Flee the angels, flee Asherah, flee like cowards? We are Sentinels, MacGregor.”
“Aye, and I’m not talking about courage. I’m talking about strategy.”
Rachel cleared her throat. “I guess the real question here is whether this republic will work. It sounds wonderful in theory, but we need to know if it will grow into something we can support. These things so often become oligarchies of oppression.”
Like the damned Shadow Council. The few dictating to the many.
“So we elect a Synod,” Degana said. “Some independent worlds have already managed that. Maybe one representative for each system in the republic?”
Everyone at the table exchanged looks before the room erupted into another stream of arguments. Some called for representation based on population. Others claimed the Sentinels should be placed in charge, considering the circumstances.
Something shimmered in the corner. A slight shifting of the light, a shadow that didn’t fall as it should have. Knight kept his eyes on the table, watching the spot from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t see anything, per se, but something was there. And now that he knew it, he could feel the creature watching. He reached out with his mind, feeling the shape of the room telekinetically. Humanoid shape with a short tail and an elongated snout. A gog.
Knight twitched his hand, and his pulse pistol popped from his thigh holster. Time slowed. A few heads turned toward him, catching the sound of his suit whirring. He jerked the pistol free and aimed at the creature. It started to move. Fast but not fast enough. A series of pulses flew from his gun and tore into the chameleon thing. Blood exploded into the room, spattering those nearby.
In a heartbeat, several Sentinels had pulse pistols in hand, pointed at him. Others turned to see the now-dead gog. Its chameleon effect faded, and the creature became visible. It was naked, covered in silvery scales now slick with blood.
Rachel clutched her chest, then shook her head. “Holy shit.”
“You know, lad,” David said, “it might have been useful to have it alive.”
David was wrong—better he acted with the element of surprise.
Another captain snorted. “A gog would never give up its secrets. Even telepaths can’t usually pull anything. Damn things are too alien. Practically more animal than human.”
Rachel rose, shaking her head. “You’re all missing the point. The gog are already on New Eden. That means the angels could have intelligence on every decision you’ve ever made.”
A still silence filled the room.
7
“Any preacher who could put into words the unending miracle beyond life would end sin for once and ever.”
The Codex, Book of Kokabiel, on the afterlife
FEBRUARY 14, 3097 EY — PEGASUS DWARF GALAXY
The Expanse of Nod was a realm of horror, a wasteland of lifeless worlds forbidden to mankind. Caleb had never intended to return, but sadly it had been the one place he could escape from the other Jericho ships. Apollo had turned Caleb’s whole damned company against him. He still couldn’t fathom how the void he’d let that happen.
This was the safest place he could find to meet Rebekah. Safe from Apollo and safe from angels and their genocide. Of course, even here, Apollo had spies. But Caleb had confidence he could avoid the Sons of Cain. The Expanse was huge, and they were few. They would never know where to look. And Rebekah would bring his family. Her transport should arrive in minutes.
They would finally be safe. Caleb would hold Ayelet and James and Miriam in his arms and never let them go. What a horrid fool he’d been to let them face danger. In his arrogance, he’d thought to justify his actions on their behalf. And in so doing, he’d put them at risk.
“Sir,” the mercenary captain said, “the transport just exited the Conduit gate.”
“Good. Prepare for docking.”
Caleb hurried off the bridge, toward the hold. The ship whirred beneath his feet as the docking bridge extended. He tried not to run, tried to seem dignified. That didn’t last long. He took the steps to the lower level three at a time and dashed for the hold.
The airlock buzzed open, and Rebekah stepped out.
Caleb looked past her to spot his family.
She was alone.
“Wh-what? Rebekah, where are they?”
“I couldn’t bring kids to a place like this, Caleb. Don’t worry, they’ve been taken care of.”
“You were supposed to bring them here.” Ayelet was supposed to be in his arms. James and Miriam should be here. They were old enough to not need sheltering. “What the void, Rebekah?”
He spun on his heel and ran toward the nearest Mazzaroth screen.
“Caleb! I missed you—”
He paid her no mind. He’d speak to her later. First he needed to know where his family was. He called up his personal access. “Contact Ayelet Gavet.”
The Mazzaroth delayed a split second as it connected to relays so far out. “Ayelet Gavet has been reported deceased in an explosion on Sepharvaim.”
No.
That wasn’t possible. He’d sent Rebekah to make sure they were safe. He’d sent her to reach them before Apollo. He’d … No. It was a mistake.
“Contact Miriam Gavet.”
“Miriam Gavet has been reported deceased in an explosion on Sepharvaim.”
Caleb’s chest heaved, and he slumped against the wall. This could not be happening. It wasn’t possible. “Con-contact James … Gavet.”
“James Gavet has been reported deceased in an—”
“Mazzaroth off!”
Caleb fell to his knees and vomited. His sides wouldn’t stop shaking. What had he done? What had he helped bring into this universe? Apollo was a monster, a servant of the Adversary. And Caleb had helped him. He’d allowed the fiend to put cybernetics into his own body. And he’d become a slave, complicit in the murder of his own family.
Rebekah had been too late. If only he’d sent her sooner instead of keeping her around for his own sake … if only he’d gone himself … Maybe …
She’d … she’d said they had been taken care of. Rebekah said his family had been taken care of.
His fists clenched, scraping against the metal grate beneath him. God in heaven. He’d thought she meant … Rebekah had allowed them to be murdered. It was the only explanation.
She’d known.
And she’d lied to him.
The woman herself slipped around the corner, her fiery hair swaying about her face in a way he’d once found too alluring. He felt his libido trying to kick in again, despite himself. But the feeling was alien, like it was being pressed in on him. He was nothing more than a disgusting animal.
Rebekah smiled at him and helped him to his feet.
Caleb slapped her.
She stumbled back, clutching her cheek.
“Why?” he shouted at her. “Why betray me?”
Rebekah rubbed her
face, then sneered. “You chose her over me. Over me! After all I’ve done for you. You left me alone when you went to the Great Attractor. Then you sent me away to find her. You abandoned me. Me, Caleb. What did you think would happen?”
Petty jealousy? She’d allowed Apollo to murder his wife over that? Or had she been working with the bastard all along?
Caleb’s fist clenched at his side. “You psychotic bitch.” He took a swing at her.
Rebekah caught his fist in her hand. She shoved him, and he stumbled backward, slipping and falling on his own vomit. The impact stung his ass, and he sat there stunned. What the void?
Rebekah backed away, toward the hold. “We could have been something wonderful, Caleb. Something worthy of songs of old. And you betrayed me for … for what? You thought I would stop him. Stop him? Do you know who he is?”
Caleb’s comm clicked on. “Sir, we need you on the bridge. The Serpent has appeared from the gate.”
Ezra Dana. The Sons of Cain. They were here. How the void had they found him so quickly?
The answer was staring him in the face, framed by fiery orange hair. Rebekah shook her head and ran back into the hold. Toward her own transport.
For a split-second, Caleb considered pursuing her and avenging his family. Rebekah may not have killed them herself, but at the very least, she’d allowed Apollo to do so. Maybe even informed him of Caleb’s plans. But he’d have to deal with her later. There was no time, and if he stayed here, Ezra would turn him over to Apollo as well.
He tapped his comm. “Captain, get us out of here. Lose them in the Conduit.”