Battle Angel

by Scott Speer

  “I would think of doing nothing else,” Jackson said.

  Once again Gabriel gave his ancient smile. Throughout the recent dramatic events, Jackson had found a kind of shelter with Gabriel. Far from being simply a figurehead, he was genuinely concerned about the welfare of the Angels on a daily basis, and it showed. He could have delegated everything, but he didn’t. He felt he had a duty, and Jackson admired him for that.

  “There is a reason we wanted to see you, Guardian Godspeed,” Gabriel said. “Jackson, we’ve been discussing the possibility of helping the humans.”

  Jacks struggled to mask the shock that ran across his face.

  Gabriel continued. “It is obviously quite difficult for us just to stand idly by. Even if the humans were planning to turn on us with the Immortals Bill. After all, we have ancient ties and lines of duty to humanity, stretching back far, far before we ever left Home and made ourselves known on Earth.”

  Mark nodded silently at Gabriel’s side.

  A flood of emotion crashed across Jackson’s face, coloring it, as he thought of what might happen between him and Maddy if the Angels could rejoin the humans. It might not be too late after all. But the painful image of her in the arms of that . . . pilot chased away his fresh-born hopes. Gabriel looked at Jackson and smiled once again.

  “I can see you have some feelings on the subject, Jacks,” Gabriel said. “Do you mind sharing them?”

  Jacks hesitated a moment, looking to both Gabriel and Mark. He wondered what the right answer was. What did he really feel?

  “It’s hard to say, sir,” Jacks said uncertainly.

  “That’s why we’ve been discussing this for so long here in the solarium. There’s no easy answer. You’re right to see that. Prudence in these matters is vital,” Gabriel said. “That said, Jacks, after our debate, I still think we have no choice but to leave the humans to their own devices. Even if we’d not had problems with them and Linden, there is just too much at stake for us to compromise everything by entering the battle against the demons.” Gabriel paused as if to let this monumental fact sink in.

  “The fact of the matter is,” he went on, “we did leave Home when I decided to bring us out of hiding. And for a good reason: We have a destiny here on Earth. We need always to keep our thoughts focused upon preserving the Angel line. We have no idea how large the force of the Dark Ones will be. It is quite doubtful, even with our highest standard of training and loyalty among the Battle Angel corps, that Angelkind could realistically weather an attack from a large number of demons. Too many would be lost. Too much blood would be spilled. While, if we stay here in the sanctuary, we will remain safe, and in the end Angel City will ultimately remain under our control. Just as it was meant to be. The demons are here for the humans, Jackson. Not us.”

  Mark cleared his throat and spoke up. “We’ve debated this a lot, Jacks. Even in the face of the anti-Angel Immortals Bill we have thought of helping the humans.” The worry lines written in his forehead grew more pronounced as he spoke. “But there’s nothing we can do.”

  “And the Book of Angels has spoken clearly on this matter,” Gabriel said. “For centuries our scholars have deemed this to be a prophecy about humanity, not Angels. We just did not think it would come so soon for our human brothers and sisters.” As he said this, Gabriel’s ageless face took on a sad, faraway look, his mind likely drifting to thoughts of the countless human beings he’d protected and served throughout his epic lifetime.

  “I as much as anyone know that there may be . . . temptations to help the humans in the coming conflict with the demons.” Gabriel cast his kindly, Immortal gaze on Jackson.

  “Archangel Godspeed has informed us of certain feelings you probably still have for the Madison Godright girl. This, too, is understandable, my son.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Jacks said, unblinkingly and without pause. “I promise.”

  “You needn’t put up a front for us, Jackson. We know you are prepared to do your duty. But we are not hard. We have loved, as well. Our entire order is, in fact, based on love. A love of righteousness and for the Protections we have sworn to save.”

  Gabriel turned partially and looked out past the foliage into the pathways of the solarium. “It is difficult, of course, to see all those Protections we have spent our lives Protecting now be put in such grave danger. But endangering ourselves just to help those who would have rendered illegal our one true purpose is worse than insane. It is against our principles. Our homes can be rebuilt. Communities will be reconstructed. All these things would pass on their own accord, as part of history, no matter how sweeping the destruction. But we Angels must endure,” he said. “There is no other way.”

  He turned back to Jackson.

  “For the mortals, there is a cycle of birth and death,” said Gabriel. “This, sadly, may be their death. And their fate. According to some readings of the Book of Angels, this is exactly what is supposed to happen. Everything has its place, Jackson.”

  “I understand,” Jacks said, his eyes fixed on Gabriel.

  “Thank you, my son. This is a difficult time for all of us,” Gabriel said. “No Angel wanted this; we have always wanted to protect humanity, and it won’t be easy for any of us. I know it will perhaps be even more difficult for you than many. But I’m glad you understand.”

  The elder True Immortal now gave Jacks a bittersweet smile, but his eyes were dancing with light, still young in their Immortal age.

  • • •

  On their way out of the solarium, Jacks and Mark ran into Louis Kreuz, the brash and outspoken head of Guardian training. Kreuz wasn’t wearing his normal full suit, but he did have on his broad pinstripe trousers and trademark suspenders strapped over his French-cuffed Brooks Brothers shirt.

  “Godspeeds,” he said, nodding, lighting a match for the Cuban cigar pressed between his lips. Surprisingly, Gabriel didn’t mind his smoking in the solarium. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Jackson.” His eyes seemed to study Jackson’s face a little more closely than usual. “Been in to see the Big Cheese?” he said, nodding toward the Council chambers.

  “Hi, Louis,” Jacks said. He liked Kreuz—quite a bit, actually. Louis had supported him strongly throughout all his training. “Good to see you,” he said awkwardly, still lost in thought after his meeting with Gabriel. “Sorry to be so short, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

  Kreuz shot Jacks a strange glance as he and Mark walked away, then took a puff from his finally lit cigar and shook the match in his big fingers until the flame went out.

  Jackson and Mark continued down the long sanctuary halls, dozens of Angels nodding at them as they walked along. The two Godspeeds together—Jacks still in his Battle Angel armor, Mark in his tailored suit—made an impressive duo.

  “Jackson, I’m very proud of how you’ve been handling yourself through all this,” Mark said. “You’ve shown yourself to be a true Angel and patriot for the Immortals.”

  They walked a few steps before Jackson responded.

  “I’ve seen what can come of having . . . other loyalties,” Jacks said.

  “Believe me, we’ve had many long debates about whether there are circumstances under which we could help the humans,” Mark said. “And it just isn’t possible.”

  “Like I told Gabriel, Mark, I understand,” he said.

  “Good,” Mark said as they entered an atrium. “And I’m sorry that he mentioned . . . Madison in there, Jacks. It’s no secret among the Council that you two were quite serious. Gabriel pressed me hard, and I was honest with him about your feelings. As you know, it’s always best to be absolutely honest with Gabriel and the Council.”

  “There’s nothing to be said about it, Mark,” Jackson said, cool and crisp. “I just want to carry out our duty.”

  “Good,” Mark said. He clapped a hand on Jacks’s shoulder. “Your mother has been wondering about you
. Will you come say hello? Just for a second?”

  • • •

  The Godspeed quarters were large and suitably appointed for Angels of their standing, with Chloe having a whole section to herself since Jacks had his own place. Chloe was shopping with friends somewhere in the sanctuary when Jacks and Mark arrived, but Jackson’s mother, Kris, was there to greet them. Mark drifted off into the master bedroom, leaving mother and son alone in the room.

  “Jackson,” she said. She came up and gave him a hug, then stepped back to look at him in his armor. “Look at you. Wow. How does it feel . . . ? The armor, I mean.”

  His mother’s voice sounded as if it was coming from a thousand miles away. Jackson’s mind was elsewhere. Outside in the sun. Standing on a pier.

  “Jacks, are you okay?” Kris asked.

  He turned away from her. “Of course. Nothing’s wrong, Mom,” Jackson said, trying to hide the pain in his voice. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

  But his mother knew her son too well, and she placed a consoling hand on his armored shoulder.

  “Is it her?” Kris asked. “Up there, left to whatever the Dark Ones will do?” Jacks kept silent. He was tired of everyone prying into his personal life. Everyone seemed to have an opinion.

  “You know, I lost your father, Jacks,” she went on. “You can talk to me if you want to. I’m here.”

  “I know,” Jacks said, nodding. “Of course I know.” The thoughts, first of Maddy and then of his father, practically gutted him. But still, he wanted—he needed—to be strong.

  Kris didn’t press him, but her eyes reflected a silent compassion back to Jackson. Part of him wanted to open up to her, but that part was overruled by the part that was so hurt that it didn’t want to let anything—or anyone—in.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I know I must seem a little . . . off. It’s just that I haven’t been getting very much sleep lately,” Jacks said. “I really should go back to my rooms. I have some stuff to do for Gabriel.”

  “Jacks,” Kris said, stopping him, slightly lowering her voice. “What’s happening—up there—there is no way to feel good about it.”

  “It doesn’t have to feel good,” Jacks said, anger bleeding in. “It just has to be right.”

  “But . . .” Here Kris paused, measuring her words. “How can you be sure of what is ‘right’? Is what you’re saying because you’re sure that what we’re doing really is right? Or are you saying it because of some anger you’re holding on to?”

  Jacks looked at her with an arched eyebrow. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you’re pro-human or something?” He almost said “pro-her” but caught himself.

  Kris’s face quivered slightly upon hearing Jacks’s words. “This isn’t about being pro-Angel or pro-human, Jacks. What I’m trying to ask you isn’t about politics. It’s about you and your feelings,” she said. Jacks and Kris both knew she didn’t have to add “about Maddy” for him to understand what she meant. Kris continued, “Things will be changing drastically in the next few days, and I just want to say, don’t forget who you are. What kind of Guardian you are.”

  Something inside Jacks cracked open, just slightly. A crack in his facade, which irritated him. “I don’t know what I think, Mom,” Jacks spat out. “And sometimes I wish people would just stop asking me. Because I don’t have an answer.”

  “It’s okay, honey,” Kris said softly. “There are no easy answers here. No matter what Gabriel, or even your stepfather, might say. It’s not so cut-and-dried.”

  Jacks let his mother’s words touch him for a moment before suddenly making himself distant. Again, he remembered her at the pier, with the pilot. Her words, and how they knocked the wind out of him.

  “I have to go now, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”

  • • •

  “Jackson Godspeed!”

  Taking a breath, Jacks stopped in the hallway on the way to his place. The Australian accent and layers of calculated, playful seduction in those two words meant it could only be one person.

  “Are you really going to just walk by without saying hello?”

  He slowly turned around to see Emily Brightchurch’s famous red locks and beautiful face poking out from the partially opened door. The rest of her body was hidden inside her quarters.

  “Come here!” she demanded.

  “Now’s not really a good time, Emily,” he said. But she had already disappeared inside, leaving the door slightly cracked.

  Her voice was muffled, but he could still hear her. “Jacks, don’t be silly. Just give me a second to get ready.”

  Ever since she was a teenaged Immortal arriving in Angel City from Australia, Jackson knew that Emily Brightchurch had had her sights set on him. She had been a Vivian Holycross wannabe for a couple of years, mirroring the older, fashionable, and ultrafabulous Angel’s every move when she was with Jacks. When they broke up and Jacks got together with Maddy, she told all her friends that there was only one half-human, half-Angel standing in her way. From her provocative billboard-sized ads on the Halo Strip to her semiscandalous everyday wardrobe choices, Emily played up every aspect of her sexpot personality.

  And now that she and Jacks were alone in the close quarters of the sanctuary, there was no way she was letting him get away.

  The door swung almost fully open, and Jacks could now hear the television chattering away from inside.

  “All right, then, what are you waiting for?” Emily said.

  Jacks came to the door, sighing. Emily was wearing just a towel.

  “You know, they have robes, Emily,” said Jacks.

  “Do they?” she said innocently, showing way too much leg for her own good. The Aussie Angel seemed suspiciously not wet for having just stepped out of the shower. Was her idea of “getting ready” for Jacks taking her clothes off and just putting on a towel?

  “I really should be . . .” Jacks couldn’t finish his sentence.

  Emily yanked him, unwillingly, into the room, and before he knew it, the door was closed behind him.

  She eyed him up and down, a devilish grin on her face, faking modesty by wrapping her towel a bit more tightly around her chest.

  “You went outside, didn’t you?” she asked.

  “What?” Jackson said, taken aback.

  “You don’t have to pretend with me, Jacks. I won’t tell anyone. I knew you were gone. I saw Mitch looking for you. Not too many places to hide down here.”

  Emily looked toward the glimmering frosted glass in her room, which had been designed to look like a window onto a sunshine-filled day outside, and not like what it essentially was—a decoration in an underground bunker.

  “Do you ever think about how funny it is that we Angels go down for sanctuary?” she said. “Shouldn’t we be going up?” She apparently got a laugh out of this, but Jacks was not in the mood for comedy.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” Jacks said quietly.

  “But, I guess, where would we go otherwise? Home?” she said. “Do you believe what they say about Home?”

  “You mean that it’s where the Angels came from? And someday we’ll go back again? Supposedly, at least.” The lore said that Gabriel had been the one to lead the Angels from Home to help humanity and that one day he would lead them back. It was his destiny.

  Emily eyed Jackson as if he’d said something strange.

  “I wouldn’t even want to go there. Home,” she said. “It would be boring. A lot more fun things to do down here.”

  Trying to ignore the implications behind her sexy stare, Jacks turned to leave. But before he could get the door open, Emily’s voice stopped him again.

  “What’s it like?” she said. “Outside, I mean. What’s going on out there? Have they started yet?”

  For someone who had just recently cowered in his arms in fright at the sight of a demon flying by, Emi
ly seemed to have recovered pretty well, Jacks thought. He remained quiet.

  “Come on, Jacks,” she said. “I know you were up top. I’m not going to tell anyone. I just want to know if it’s started yet.” What looked like a flash of excitement flitted across her eyes.

  “No,” he said. “It hasn’t.”

  “Take me with you next time?” she said eagerly. “We can totally outfly the demons. I know it. You and me.”

  “There’s not going to be a next time,” Jacks said, a pall casting over his face. The finality of what had happened between him and Maddy was starting to slowly sink in. Not just the initial shock of it, but the true reality.

  “Jacks, are you okay? What’s the matter?” Emily said.

  “Nothing,” Jacks said, but his face had grown ashen, his lips thin and colorless.

  Emily pursed her lips, as if she was able to see something else on his face. “Have you been to see . . . her?” Emily couldn’t bring herself to say Maddy’s name. “You just need to forget about her, Jacks. And think about your future. What’s available to you right here, right now.”

  But Jackson’s attention had turned inward, and even though Emily crossed her towel-clad legs an extra time in a desperate attempt to try to bring him back, it was clear that it wasn’t enough.

  “I’ve got to go,” Jackson said broodingly, and turned away before she could do or say anything else.

  “I’ll see you later, right?” Emily asked.

  She received no answer. Jackson had already left.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Upstairs in her room, Maddy felt a strange impulse to take an old shoe box out from under the bed. She pulled off the tape from the lid, lifted it, and spread the box’s contents out on the bed. Fanned across the comforter were ancient diaries, from way back in middle school, their covers marked with all kinds of stickers and cheerful marker graffiti.