Throne of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 2)

by Jacob Holo

  Tesset giggled. “That was a pretty good impression.”

  “Well, he seems to be taking matters in stride, and he’s glad I sent Knight Squadron ahead to help ready the Mark II.”

  “Did he make some comment about being a walking corpse when he said that?”

  Seth grimaced. “Why, yes. He did.”

  “That’s our Jack!” Tesset said brightly.

  Seth led them into the lift. “Anything else you want to hear about?”

  “The Homeland! You still haven’t told me about the Homeland!”

  “Well…”

  Tesset was borderline giddy. “Come on. Tell me! What’s it like?”

  “It wasn’t anything like what I expected.” Seth didn’t even realize he was smiling. He described it to Tesset in detail, everything from the Gate corridor to the endless sky and floating continents, all the way to the poetry on the walls of the Keeper fortress.

  “It sounds like a wonderful place.”

  Seth led them into his quarters. The wall screen glittered with the strategic activities of the Alliance. Triangles, circles, and squares maneuvered about, hopping from one system to the next, all converging on Earth.

  “I wish I could have spent more time there.” Seth sank into the couch.

  Tesset sat down next to him. “Do you think you could take me there when this is all over?”

  Seth rumpled her hair. “The Keepers are very suspicious of strangers. Even fearful of us pilots. I doubt you would receive a warm reception.”

  “Oh, I see.” Tesset leaned back in her seat. She scratched underneath her blindfold. Then spent a few minutes adjusting it. Then started chewing on her fingernails.

  “Is something bothering you?” Seth asked.

  “No, why do you ask?”

  “You’re fidgeting.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. Plus you always fidget when something’s bothering you.”

  Tesset scrunched up her face. “No, I don’t.”

  Seth raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, maybe some of the time,” she said.

  “So what is it?”

  “Well…”

  “Go on.”

  Tesset huffed out a breath, then said, “I wish I could have helped more against the thrones.”

  Seth waited for the rest. There wasn’t any.

  “That’s all that was bothering you?” he asked.

  “Well, yes. Hey, what do you mean ‘that’s all’?”

  “Only…” Seth stopped and thought his words over carefully. “I’m glad you stayed when you did.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Very deliberately, yes.”

  “Do you have any idea of how worried I was?”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Tesset said.

  “You and me both.”

  The room fell silent. She rested her head against his shoulder. He found her hand with his and laced their fingers.

  “You’re going to face them again, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you win?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His mind turned to the battle to come. They would have to face Veketon and Quennin once more, but it would be different this time. Jack would be there, and Seth now had his own portal lance. But even with those advantages, the thrones were terrifying foes.

  Still, Seth’s path remained clear.

  Kill those whom she serves. Veketon and the Eleven. That is how I will destroy her bonds. That is how I will free her.

  Chapter 19

  Apocalypse Cannon Mark II

  Jack Donolon crossed the seraph bay. The ENSC Tranquility Bay might not have been as large as the Resolute—or as heavily armored, advanced, or pleasant smelling—but its seraph bays were of Aktenai manufacture. The carrier was perfectly capable of supporting Knight Squadron’s seraphs, and it even had a makeshift cryogenic chamber for his seraph.

  “You okay over there, buddy?” Jack asked. He voice echoed in the empty bay. “I know it’s not home, but it’s the best they can do.”

  From the far end of the carrier, he felt a sense of contentment wash over him.

  “That’s the spirit. I wish Seth was here, though.”

  His seraph remained silent.

  “Yeah, but he’s heading for Earth to search for this second mystery Gate. Can’t be helped.”

  His seraph did not respond.

  Jack laughed. “I think it’s stupid, too. After all, what difference does it make? Who cares if he’s a Keeper now? It’s not like he’s suddenly a different person.”

  The reactions from some of the Aktenai to Seth’s little career change were off the scale ridiculous. A few had actually started bowing to Jack just for associating with Seth.

  Jack entered the next bay shaking his head. Jared Daykin’s seraph towered in a bay bustling with activity. Clusters of robotic arms along the ceiling closed up the seraph’s mnemonic skin and loaded its conformal weapon pods.

  Yonu and Jared stood near the gangplank to his seraph. The two were having a heated argument, with Yonu giving Jared a nasty look.

  Jared seems to be losing, Jack thought.

  Both Knight Squadron pilots wore their i-suits. Jack didn’t bother with one. He and his buddy played by different rules.

  Jared clutched two small leather-bound books in one hand and continued pleading with Yonu. Eventually, she threw up her arms and stormed off. Jared looked around, spotted Jack, stopped, grimaced, looked around again, sighed, shook his head, and finally turned back to Jack.

  Well, that’s rather insulting, Jack thought. Guess I wasn’t his first choice.

  Jared hurried over to Jack and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a Christian, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Christian. You’re a Christian, right? This is very important.”

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I suppose. I mean, it’s been a while. But I suppose the last time I attended church I was, technically, still a Christian.”

  Jared nodded at this. “Good.” He gave Jack a firm pat on the shoulder. “Come with me. This is important.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! Come on! We need to do this before we launch. It’s very important.” Jared walked off like a man on a mission.

  Jack watched him leave, not sure what to make of him.

  Jared turned around. “Well? Come on.” He motioned for Jack to follow.

  “Fine. I’m coming.”

  The two ducked out of the bays via a small service corridor full of overhead pipes and conduits painted different colors. Jared turned left, and Jack followed, almost running head-first into a liquid nitrogen line.

  “Watch your head,” Jared said, having already ducked past the obstacle.

  Jack crouched under the pipe. “Jared, where are we going?”

  “Fear not. We’re here. The Tranquility’s captain was kind enough to let me use this.”

  Jared pushed open a slender metal door with some effort. The door clanked into a wall, and Jared stepped over the doorjamb into the dark room.

  Jack sighed and followed.

  It was a small, cramped room. It looked like it once held spare parts. Outlines of old crates stood out on the floor. Other than that, the room was in immaculate condition. There was a small rectangular table along the wall, draped in simple purple cloth. Jack noted the two candles, large leather-bound book, and crucifix on the tabletop, arranged just so.

  Jack accepted one of the small books from Jared and inspected it. On the cover was a small gold leaf crucifix. Jack thumbed through it suspiciously as Jared lit the candles.

  “We really don’t have time for this,” Jack said. “We need to be in space soon.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to do the abbreviated version.”

  “If you say so,”

  Jared finished lighting the candles, knelt in front of the small altar, and
thumbed skillfully through the liturgy book. “Turn to page eighty-nine,” he said without looking back.

  Jack flipped through the pages. He found the one Jared had pointed out. The verse looked short.

  Jared, still kneeling, glanced over his shoulder. “Well?”

  Jack dropped uncomfortably to his knees in front of the altar. “Isn’t there someone else you could be doing this with?”

  “The Tranquility’s crew is busy. It’s just us pilots.”

  “But isn’t there someone from Knight Squadron you could have asked? Like Eignen for instance.”

  “Muslim,” Jared said curtly.

  “Tackett?”

  “Jewish.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “I always thought he considered himself the second coming.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Then Mansfield, certainly.”

  “Dead.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Page eighty-nine, please. I’ll do the first part.”

  Jared read the first verse from his liturgy book. Jack couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Some of the words had a familiar feel to it, like a nostalgic smell or sound, but Jack felt foolish all the same. Jared read verse after verse, dealing with whatever pain he felt for lost comrades in his own way.

  “Page one-thirty-four. Your turn.”

  Jack dutifully turned to the page and read, still feeling awkward. While Jared had read expertly, not missing a word or beat, Jack fumbled with the verse. The further Jack read, the longer and more unfamiliar some of the words became. Finally, he asked, “What’s a Kontakion, anyway?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that part,” Jared said. He cleared his throat loudly. “I think we did enough for now. Moment of silence, please.”

  The two stayed there, kneeling in front of the altar in silence.

  “Jack?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you believe?”

  It was such a personal question, and yet in this place Jack felt compelled to answer.

  “I don’t know. I guess so, but that’s probably just the church school talking. I grew up in a war orphanage, you know. They were very strict about those sorts of things. Now? I guess a part of me wishes there wasn’t a God.”

  Jared turned to him with a look to total incomprehension. “Why would you want that?”

  Jack smiled sadly. “Because then I won’t have to go to Hell when I die.”

  Jared frowned and looked away. The pilots returned to their long moment of silence.

  “Have you spoken to the twins yet?” Jack asked after a few minutes.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re dead.”

  “But they were accepted by the Choir. You should speak to them. It’s how I got to clear things over with my dad. You know, after I killed him. Our talks were very cathartic.”

  “Jack, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not the best person to be handing out therapy advice.”

  “Okay, I’m just saying it’ll help.”

  “I will not speak to them,” Jared said. “They’re dead, and I have no interest in whatever virtual shadows are left.”

  “What about Yonu?”

  “She thinks I’m being ignorant.” Jared sighed heavily. “I asked her to join me, but she just dismissed it. Said she has no interest in superstitious rituals. Used that word, too. I don’t understand her sometimes. She should be grieving. Her mother and father were killed out there.”

  “The Aktenai don’t view it like that. They grieve for the recent dead, but to them the Choir is a kind of step up also. It’s immortality for a chosen few, and her parents got picked.”

  “It’s a fake afterlife.” Jared clapped the liturgy book shut and stood up. “Thank you for doing this, Jack. I appreciate having someone with me.”

  “No problem.”

  Jared took Jack’s liturgy book and set them both next to the bible on the table. “We should get to our seraphs.”

  “Yeah, it’s about that time.”

  They headed out to the service corridor.

  Jared shut the door behind them. “You think Zu’Rashik is really going to show?”

  “Seth believes it will, and I trust his instincts.”

  “Well, if it does, we’ll keep you clear of enemies. I doubt they know what the Mark II is, but when they see it, I bet it’ll attract plenty of attention.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  I’ve been trying not to think about it. All that antimatter. If the Mark II loses containment, they might find enough pieces of me to fill a coffin… well, maybe one the size of a shot glass.

  They exited into the bay with Jared’s seraph.

  “And there’s our new equipment from SpecOps,” Jared said.

  “You mean the shields?”

  “Exactly.”

  Clasped in the seraph’s left hand was a tall door shield, oversized so that the entire seraph could hide behind it. Chaotic conducting threads crisscrossed behind heavy plates of mnemonic alloy, making the shield effective against both conventional weapons and energy blades.

  “They shoot at you,” Jared said. “We step in the way.”

  “That’s the plan. Such as it is.”

  In addition to the ten seraphs in Knight Squadron, the Earth Nation would deploy eight frigates and six dreadnoughts, all of them fresh from the shipyards of the Earth’s orbital republics. The Aktenai had been generous to their Earth allies with much of their technology, and the latest EN ships performed almost as well as the Aktenai originals.

  Almost.

  Jack accessed his neural link and checked the mission clock.

  “I’d better go,” he said. “Good luck out there.”

  “You too,” Jared said.

  Jack hurried two bays down. A wash of cold air prickled his skin. No one else was in either bay, and for good reason. The white seraph turned its head, watching him enter. He looked up at it, and in the corner of own his mind, he looked down at himself.

  “You ready for this, buddy?” he asked the seraph.

  A sense of excited tension passed through his mind.

  “All right, then!” Jack hurried across the gangplank and into the cockpit. He settled into the alcove and let the hatch close in behind him. With practiced ease, he pushed the concerns of his true body aside and let the senses of the seraph fill his mind.

  Mnemonic shutters opened beneath him, and the Tranquility Bay’s catapults jettisoned his giant body into space.

  He floated away and spread his wings. Energized conductor fluid pulsed out from his arterial pump. The edges of his wings blurred with power, and he looped over the Tranquility Bay, coming to a halt above the EN carrier. Behind the carrier was the Mark II: a slender black cylinder two whole kilometers long, surrounded by its flotilla of EN frigates and dreadnoughts.

  Jared opened a hypercast channel.

  “Jack, the Outcasts have just started folding ships in near the Earth. Seth was right. This is perfectly timed for a direct attack by Zu’Rashik.”

  Jack linked with the Alliance battle network. A large force of Outcast warships with heavy archangel support continued to fold in one hundred thousand kilometers from Earth. They already numbered over a thousand vessels. Alliance warships responded by pulling away from their geosynchronous orbits, forming up between the Outcasts and the planet Earth.

  Several large groups of Outcast archangels, exodrones, and even thrones were heading for the Alliance fleet.

  Jack clenched and unclenched his massive fists. He spotted several likely formations, each composed of three archangel squadrons escorting a single throne into the Alliance ranks. He picked one.

  “Jared, standby to fold to these coordinates. We’re going to make ourselves useful and take out some of those archangels.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Zu’Rashik to show up?”

  Jack smiled slyly. “Yes, but we’re going to go anyway.”
r />   “But that formation has a throne.”

  “You handle the archangels. I’ll deal with the throne.”

  “What? All on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Jack, that’s insane!”

  “Probably.” Jack engaged his fold engine—

  ***

  —and materialized just outside Earth’s geosync defense network, thirty-six thousand kilometers from Earth’s surface. He angled his wings and sped away, passing one of the thousands of weapon platforms orbiting the planet.

  The Earth Defense Array represented over two decades of buildup, fueled by the paranoia of a people who had nearly lost their home planet. This was nothing like the ragtag speed bump Aktenzek had encountered in the days before the Alliance. Earth had taken all the technologies the Aktenai would give and had forged them into a fearsome network of orbital cannons, torpedo bays, and exodrone hangars. Gutted asteroids from Earth’s ravenous industries were converted for war, their empty caverns filled to the brim with armaments, their rocky exteriors now heavily plated with self-repairing mnemonic skins.

  Jack approached, watching the battle unfold.

  An Outcast flotilla of twenty ships broke through the still-forming Alliance fleet perimeter and made a run for the planet’s orbital defenses, apparently considering them soft targets. One asteroid out of hundreds swiveled about. Dozens of massive hatches blew open, and five thousand fusion torpedoes streamed out in one tremendous salvo. Outcast close-in defenses shot down hundreds of torpedoes, but the sheer volume of fire overwhelmed them.

  Over four thousand torpedoes reached their targets. They erupted into blinding nuclear pyres and reduced the whole Outcast flotilla to plasma.

  “Go Earth.”

  Jack flew on, keeping his scanners trained on the approaching throne and its escort archangels. Knight Squadron folded behind him and accelerated into formation.

  “I knew you couldn’t sit out a good fight,” Jack said. Knight Squadron struggled to keep pace with him.

  “Well, my orders are to escort you. But if things get out of hand, we will pull back.”

  “Geez, thanks for the vote of confidence.”