Fall of Angels

by Matt Larkin

  Still, his HUD showed his kinetic shields were failing—17 percent remaining. He’d taken dozens of plasma bursts in the chaos of the cargo bay and since.

  It was time to wrap this up.

  Concentrate. He could do this. It was all in his mind. And a lifetime in the Gibborim had honed it into a weapon. He’d been wrong. Raziel hadn’t made him just a weapon—he’d made him a war machine. Knight punched his fist downward, ripping through the lower deck with a wave of telekinetic energy.

  His vision blurred a moment, and he stumbled off his surfing panel, tripped, and hit the wall. This was taking too much out of him. But if he failed … hell would kill Phoebe and Rachel and all of humanity. They’d needed a Pariah, and he’d become that.

  Now they needed something else. And he would be that too. Because he was the only one who could.

  He leapt down the hall, calling his surfing platform down after him.

  Cyborgs knocked down in the telekinetic explosion had started to rise. One drew a bead on him. Knight shot the man. Then his pulse pistol flew from his hand, clattering away.

  A pair of angels stood nearby, one with a hand extended toward him. Both had their wings stretched out, metal pinions scraping the walls as they advanced on him.

  Knight smirked and drew his kyoketsu, switching the katana to his off hand. Then he ran forward, leapt to the wall, and flipped over the angels. They were fast, wings slashing the space he’d been a split-second before. Fast—but not fast enough. His sword severed an angel’s arm. Continuing his spin in a wide arc, his kyoketsu opened the other one’s stomach. The first angel screamed in pain while the other stared at Knight, mouth agape. Unable to fathom what had just happened.

  Knight decapitated the stupefied angel.

  An arc of his kyoketsu split a cyborg’s plasma rifle in half. The weapon exploded, engulfing its user in plasma fires. Knight ran onward, bursting into the inner engineering deck only to find hundreds of cyborgs and dozens of angels inside. All training weapons on him.

  He spun, stepping back outside the door as plasma blasts rippled over the room. Too many.

  This would have to be close enough.

  Knight snatched the QEMP grenade, primed it, then tossed it into the room.

  A second later, an energy wave rushed over him, knocking out his HUD. That would have fried any guns in the area.

  He stepped back through the doorway to find all the cyborgs and angels collapsed on the floor. He’d done it. He’d taken the Azazel. Now he just needed to …

  An angel stepped forward, his face concealed under a dark hood. As he drew near, he pulled it back, revealing a weathered but ageless face. His goatee and eyes were both jet black. The angel flexed his shoulders, reflecting light off his bladed wings. “Did you really think I wouldn’t have a defense for a weapon I invented?”

  Knight stalked forward, sword in one hand, kyoketsu in the other. “You must be Apollyon.”

  “And you must be the nephil. You certainly know how to make a mess.”

  Knight continued toward the fallen angel. The man responsible for all of this. “I’m not done yet.”

  55

  “A Sentinel must know his limits. At times, he will be asked to exceed them. Death is the only acceptable excuse for failure.”

  Sentinel Holy Mandate

  THE GREAT ATTRACTOR

  David squeezed shut his eyes with all his might, but it was his mind that saw the horrors of the Adversary’s plan. Their version of a bleak, lifeless universe spread before his mental eye. The sheer, incalculable weight of that emptiness made him retch.

  Except there was no sensation other than abstract pain. David whimpered, but no sound issued forth.

  He was alone.

  Alone with the Adversary.

  Time slipped past like the current of a powerful river, sweeping him with it as he clutched in vain for the rocks. He could sense the battle raging all around him. Unseen. Felt. A tickle at his psionic senses. Bitter human fear left a metallic aftertaste in his consciousness. Domineering chaos pressed forward, ratcheting up the terror on the frail mortal minds assembled against it.

  David could tell whose ships were whose.

  Reveal their weaknesses.

  No.

  Curtail their suffering.

  No!

  We promise oblivion. It will come as a relief.

  Psionic fingers dug into his mind like a greedy child in a candy dish. Fishing. Searching. Sifting for that one morsel that it prized above all others.

  Out. Out! OUT!

  David forced aside the intrusions. His mind was his mind. The Adversary was unwelcome. Doors closed like the bulkheads of a ship with a hull breach. David walled off the part of his mind that the Adversary occupied, sealing it from his precious memories.

  Those tendrils of mental energy writhed and twisted, seeking ways around the barriers David placed. And by their movements, he traced them back.

  What are you doing, mortal?

  Ending you.

  The mocking laughter wracked him with agony. David struggled and kept a tenuous hold on the psionic thread to which he clung.

  You think you can contest against us? Arrogant insect, you have done well to retain even sanity for this long.

  An admission. David wasn’t what it had expected. He had surpassed what the Adversary had imagined of mankind. Maybe he could provide yet another surprise.

  David traced the mental tendril back to the Adversary vessel. There was no way inside that he could fathom, yet he pounded against the hull. It was as much a living thing as the Ark, its outer shell as much a barrier to the mind as to the physical form. He was powerless to so much as scratch it, yet he held fast and continued his impotent assault.

  Stop that.

  David did no such thing.

  Cease at once, or you shall regret your impudence.

  Oh, impudence, was it? Might be that it was time to show this incarnation of evil what a hardheaded Calnehian was capable of.

  Out among the fleets, David felt the fracturing. The unified purpose of the Adversary’s fleet dissolved into a confusion of hatred and rage without clear focus. Humanity’s defenders still bore fear as their standard, but annihilation’s harbingers no longer seemed so sure of their course as they had a moment earlier.

  Get away, you wretched mortal pest. I have more important matters to attend than your tantrums.

  That whitewater current raging around David threatened to carry his mind away and force him back to wakefulness aboard the bridge. But David wasn’t ready to relinquish his hold on the Adversary just yet. For all that he was unable to harm the nebulous force of evil, he was certainly distracting it.

  For now, that was all he could hope to accomplish.

  Far away, as if in a dream, he heard Rachel’s voice echoing. “They’re no longer acting in concert. This is our chance. Fire at will …”

  56

  “For good or ill, history will remember our actions. It will judge us all, as I have long known it would judge me. In another three thousand years, maybe my descendants will look back on these days as the death of an empire. Or maybe we have begun something amazing here. Only history can judge.”

  Dr. Rachel Jordan, Lectures at New Eden

  THE GREAT ATTRACTOR

  The singularity drive lay just beyond Apollyon. If the QEMP hadn’t taken out everyone on this ship, releasing containment on the drive sure as void would.

  Knight had one more obstacle in his way.

  “You are finished, nephil.” The angel leapt into the air, covering the distance with a single beat of his wings.

  Knight rolled to the side, whipping his kyoketsu in an arc as he did. Apollyon moved just as quickly, deflecting it with his wings. Before Knight could even react, the angel twisted, landing a hook into Knight’s abdomen. The impact sent Knight spiraling backward through the air. His lungs seized, and his vision darkened. He landed hard, tumbling several times before coming to a stop.

  He groaned, push
ed himself up, then spat blood. It stained his visor even as the HUD came back online. Kinetic shields were low, but at least they ought to soften any further blows now.

  The angel stalked forward, fingers curled into claws. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “Not for long.” Knight charged forward, rolled, and came up swinging both weapons. He launched attack after attack, swinging katana and kyoketsu in an endless, spiraling barrage. Apollyon blocked and parried, falling back under the assault but deflecting every attack on his wings.

  Knight grazed the angel along the ribs with his sword. Apollyon accepted the blow, bringing his wings together then snapping them apart. The monowire cord that tethered his kyoketsu blade snapped as the angel scissored it between his wings. The knife flew wide and punched through a wall, revealing the singularity drive beyond.

  Fuck. Knight tossed the useless hilt aside and switched his katana back to his main hand.

  Apollyon stepped back and drew a hand along the cut Knight had opened on his ribs. The angel looked down at his own blood, then glowered at Knight. Then he extended his hand, and Knight felt telekinetic energy form. He saw nothing.

  Bastard was going to attack him with it. Knight flipped forward, swinging his sword downward. He’d sever the angel before—

  His sword stopped dead in the air like it hit a wall. Apollyon had raised his wrist as though he held a sword parrying the blow. The angel buffeted his wings, flinging Knight backward. Knight’s katana clattered away, and he tumbled along the ground.

  What the void was that?

  He allowed his eyes to relax, to let his telekinetic senses shape his sight. His mind’s eye revealed the edge of a telekinetic sword the angel had formed—an invisible mirror to Knight’s own. A sword with no substance and immeasurable force.

  “Impressive.”

  “Child—you cannot begin to imagine what I am capable of. You are no match for a being who has witnessed the birth and death of universes. Look onto the face of your God and tremble before Him.”

  Knight reached a hand toward his fallen sword. It spun through the air, and he caught it, then charged forward, roaring at the pompous man before him. No words could define this being’s arrogance.

  No accusation could cover the sum of his crimes. So Knight would say nothing.

  Left, right, feint, dodge, parry. With every move, Knight’s speed increased until the angel’s face began to fall. That first hint of uncertainty Knight knew so well.

  Submit!

  The sudden telepathic assault sent Knight stumbling backward. Apollyon cleaved downward, splintering Knight’s sword, then telekinetically flung the pieces aside.

  Fuck. What happened to the thing being nigh unbreakable?

  “You impress us, nephil. Serve and you may yet live.”

  Knight grit his jaw. Raziel and Phanuel had both tried the same tactic, and Knight had overcome them too. He steeled his mind. In his fury, he’d let his defenses down. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. And if the angel could form a sword like that …

  Knight focused all his mental energy, condensing it into a replica of the sword Apollyon had created, then grabbed it with both hands.

  The angel snarled, clearly shocked Knight had managed that. “You must know you cannot win.” Apollyon jumped forward, beat his wings to fly, and came down swinging.

  Now on the defensive, Knight fell back under a barrage as fast as any he himself could launch. The angel was right. He wasn’t certain he could win this. And other angels and cyborgs on the ship might have survived the QEMP. They could be coming for him as this drew on.

  Fail now, and this was all for nothing.

  With a defiant roar, he rolled away from the angel and made a dash for the core room. He could feel the angel just behind, wings carrying him faster than even Knight could run.

  Knight twisted, grabbed a plasma grenade and primed it. Apollyon landed and raised his wings to shield himself from the blast. Knight flung it out behind himself, telekinetically guiding the grenade right through the breach his kyoketsu had created in the wall. Spiraling into the singularity drive.

  For a heartbeat, Apollyon’s eyes went wide. “What have you—”

  The explosion rocked the deck, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Knight recovered first and rose in a sprint. Running faster than he ever had before. Time to get the fuck off this ship.

  Behind him, he felt the tidal forces building as containment began to fail. The angel chased after him, but time was already dilating, making him seem to move in slow motion.

  Knight telekinetically ripped another panel from the floor and jumped on it. The ship was disintegrating behind him, being ripped into its component molecules and sucked into hell. The panel shot around corner after corner and up the slope ahead, back toward the hangar. With every passing second, he felt it slowing, taking more of his mental energy to keep it propelled forward against the growing gravity.

  There was no way he was going down with this ship. Phoebe was waiting for him. His baby was … the baby would know his father. The Sephirot would still have escape pods. He could make it.

  Apollyon shot past him, guided by his own telekinetic surfing panel. The angel streaked into the cargo bay ahead of Knight, sparing not a glance at the chaos Knight had created here.

  “You have ruined everything!” the angel shrieked. Apollyon had positioned himself before the door to the hangar. Knight’s only way out. “You may have destroyed this ship, nephil, but you will join me in hell. I will tear you limb from limb and feed your soul to the void! I am faster, stronger, and telekinetically more powerful. You have nothing over me. Embrace despair, mortal!”

  Knight jumped down from his panel and paused in front of the angel, who formed his telekinetic sword again. Apollyon was right. Knight could try to fight him again, but there was little chance he could win. Not before this ship was sucked into hell.

  And so he stared down the sneering angel. “You’re wrong,” Knight said. “No matter what happens, I have two things you don’t.”

  The angel snickered. “Really?”

  “Someone loves me.” Nothing could ever take that from him.

  “Pathetic. Is that all?”

  “One more thing separates us, angel.” Knight took one more step toward him. “I’m wearing a space suit.”

  “What—”

  Knight telekinetically ripped the door off the airlock, breaching the decompressed hangar. Air rushed through it in a massive wave, sucking Apollyon into the void.

  Arms folded by his side, Knight shot through the opening and into space, streaming past the fallen angel.

  Apollyon opened his mouth to scream. Nothing came out.

  Knight gave Apollyon the finger as he flew clear of the Azazel’s destruction.

  57

  “I knew the man history chose as its Pariah. The man humanity revered, then reviled. Perhaps I never knew who he was, but I do know he was, after all, just a man. Flawed in his ways and beautiful in his heart. And whatever anyone ever says of him—I know he was a hero. I never saw Ezekiel Knight again. Some say he died in that final battle, drawn into hell with the fallen. Others claim angels carried him away to heaven. And some say God punished him for his sins, cursed him to roam the stars alone until the end of time.”

  Dr. Rachel Jordan, Lectures at New Eden

  JUNE 30, 3097 EY — MILKY WAY

  With the loss of their flagship, the Adversary began a mass retreat, routed. Rachel pursued them as long as she was able, but thousands escaped beyond the bounds of known space. Still, she’d call the day a win. David recovered the moment the Lotan’s new seals were activated and led the attack against the remaining enemies. The Adversary and the angels both lurked somewhere beyond known space, and Rachel suspected mankind had not seen the last of either.

  Now, some weeks later, she stood with David in the Ark’s hangar, headed back for New Eden. The Ark’s records said the planet had once been called Mars, but everyone referred to the red world
by its new name now.

  Jeremiah handed her a report from the planet. He’d withdrawn from the Redeemers, as had most of his fellows. Rachel glanced at the report. It mentioned several supposed gog sightings around New Eden. The Gogmagog was legally disbanded, but the spies still cropped up all around. Working for the highest bidder, no doubt.

  “Send it on to Degana,” Rachel said.

  Jeremiah nodded, then put a hand on her shoulder before trotting off. He didn’t say much these days. But it helped just having him around.

  David had turned to Phoebe, whose belly was just showing through her formfitting uniform. “Listen, lass,” he said. “He’s gone. I know you need time, but really, the new Sentinels are going to need you.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “No way. He’s too stubborn to die. He’s out there, somewhere. And I’m going to find him.”

  “We would have heard something by now, lass.”

  “He’s the most hated man in human history, David. I kinda think he might be happy to be presumed dead, you know? Though I’d call him redeemed of any sins at this point … you know? Having saved the holy universe from hell and all. Anyway, I’m going.”

  Rachel squeezed her husband’s hand. Phoebe didn’t show it, but Rachel could feel an inexplicable hope wafting off the icie. The woman should have been crushed, but she wasn’t. Maybe she knew something the rest of the universe didn’t. Or maybe she just couldn’t face reality.

  Knight had saved them all.

  “Where will you start?” Rachel asked Phoebe.

  “Zarethon.”

  The Expanse of Nod, the home of the Lotan. It explained why Phoebe had been so insistent on getting her brother to come with her. No one knew the Expanse better than the Sons of Cain. Plus, Ezra was just enough of a prophet to pilot the Conduit in a pinch. The man, now with a patch over his empty eye socket, had jumped at the chance to repay his sister. So Rachel had given Phoebe Raziel’s ship.