Before the Shattered Gates of Heaven

by Bryan S. Glosemeyer

  “Godsdammit, Daggs, why won’t you wake the hell up? Please. See me, Daggs. See me. I need . . . I mean, I . . . Damn, skin, it’s been three days. Get off your ass and help me.” Sabira wanted to reach out, squeeze Daggeira’s limp fingers within her own, but every time she reached out to touch her friend, rub a scar, or even just stretch stiff limbs, the straps tightened. Sabira’s jaw clenched in a frustrated unison with her fetters, every time.

  She suspected Cal lurked nearby, too, if Maia or Gabriel hadn’t pulled him away. For the past two days, whenever Sabira was in Daggs’s room, Cal had turned out to be nearby. Although today the boy seemed to have been spending all his time in Ed’s room.

  “Just live. Hear me, skin? You had better. You can’t die on me, too. Conqueror see me, if you die, I’ll hunt you down to the Shattered Gates and kick your pretty ass. So you live, and you wake up and . . .”

  . . . and we get out of here. We’ll go home together, I swear it.

  She ground her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, felt the sting of tears moistening her eyes. Felt the swelling of a full sob deep in her chest and pushed it back down. Couldn’t let herself say anything about holding on, biding their time until the Warseers returned. Possibly returned. There was no way for her to know how badly the Monarchy had defeated the Warseers, or if their strategy for this target planet had changed for any reason. Even if no one else living was present and listening, the lem certainly was. She couldn’t give any hint of what might be coming if she and Daggeira were ever going to have a chance.

  “Damn it, Daggs. You are not . . . We are Servants of the Divine . . . I don’t know. Not anymore. What are we? What are we doing here? I know what you’re doing. Sleeping. Lying around like a fat hen. Leaving me here. Don’t you . . .”

  As she spoke, the choir of dusk song hummed in through the window. With each passing sunset, the great communal song grew quieter, its harmonies less dense. This was the third and faintest time Sabira had ever heard it. When she spoke, her voice drowned out the dusk song completely.

  “Gods see me, I’ll never pass through the Gates, not like this. I’m so selfish. I want you here to help me. I should be happy for you to die. Like Grandfather and Lance and godsdamned Cannon.

  “He saved me. You saw that, right? Did you see his face?

  “They’re all dead, Daggs. All of them. It’s just you and me, and I’m so . . . They all died good deaths. They stayed true to Will. They died like true Servants, killing vermin until the end. They will stand before the Shattered Gates of Heaven and be found worthy. And so will you. But me, stupid Stargazer One Tit, selfish me, I don’t want you to go. I don’t want She Who Waits to take you from me. I know it’s selfish, but make Her wait a little longer.”

  Thick, white bandages cocooned Daggeira’s torso. Sensor pads on her bare neck and shackled arms transmitted vitality data to medical devices on the far side of the bed.

  “We found them, do you know that? Were you awake at all when they took us? We fell on their roof—the captured unseen and the new aliens the warseers told us about—right on their godsdamned roof. Grandfather Spear must have been so close. But those new aliens are humans. Weird, hairy humans. They kept me from dying. I should be mad. I had earned my way into Heaven with a good death. But they found us and kept us alive. They could have killed us both.

  “There is this little mine rat, you’d like him, his name is—these blasphemers give everyone names—this little mine rat wanted to kill us. Cal. He would have made a good servant. These aliens kept us both alive, Daggs, not just me. You too. So you have got to wake up. Please. You’ve got to.

  “There’s something going on with these weird humans. I don’t understand it at all. But I don’t think it’s a trick. I know somehow it has to be. But something about them, they could have killed or tortured us, but they’ve been kind. It’s as if . . . I don’t know, but if you’d wake the hell up you could help me figure this out. Help me figure a way out of here.”

  Sabira’s knee bounced as she spoke.

  “Know what though? You’d hate me for saying this. Sometimes I’m not sure I want to get away anymore. I’ll never pass through the Gates, now, thinking like that, but I want to understand. What if there were more humans than in the Unity? What if there are mysteries out there in the stars we’ve never even dreamed of? And if not, well then I’ve damned myself for letting Trickster’s seed take root. And I’ll be damning you, too, if you start to think like this. If you ever drilling wake up. But I don’t know what to do. So just wake up already. And if you want to go, we’ll go. I promise, anywhere in the galaxy you want.”

  Daggeira twitched her finger, Sabira was absolutely sure. It wasn’t a blurry potential movement in the corner of her eye, not a phantom of wishful thinking. Sabira had looked directly at her hand and watched the fingers twitch. Then twitch again, stretching and clawing, as if Daggeira reached for something in her dreams.

  Sabira wanted nothing more than to take her hand, to let her know in dream or in death, she was by her side, that she wasn’t alone. Instead, Sabira whispered a curse at Gabriel and Maia for keeping her from the one she needed most.

  There had to be a way. She would find it. She would take Daggeira’s hand, and she would know, somehow, what to do next.

  The straps always reacted when she pulled or strained against them, but otherwise remained slack enough to allow for some small movement. If she slid her arm forward, bit by bit in slow, subtle motions, she found the strap wouldn’t react. By the time she got up to her elbows, her muscles were too wide for the fetter’s natural gap. If she could reach forward a little more . . .

  “She’s getting loose!” Cal yelled from the hallway. “Watch out! Watch out! She’s getting loose!”

  Sabira jerked at the sudden sound, and the straps cinched, locking her to the armrest. The brief stab of pain went almost unnoticed as she grunted and cursed and struggled to cross the last remaining gap to her friend’s touch.

  The hand that grasped her wrist was not Daggeira’s, nor was it human. Though tight and secure, the lem’s hold didn’t hurt. Its hand morphed, reshaping itself around her wrist, into one solid clamp. A staticky sensation prickled across her skin where the lem touched her.

  “I am sorry, Miss Sabira,” it said flatly, in unaccented Khvaziz, “but you are to be restrained until your purging, should you accept it. For the safety of the Embassy and for yourself, I cannot allow you to escape your bonds or make physical contact with your companion.”

  “Get drilled you profane piece of shit!”

  Machines that imitated life were forbidden by Will. Machines were to serve life, not replace it, and this monstrosity stood between her and Daggeira and she hated it and she hated all of them and she just wanted out and back to where everything made sense, back to where blasphemy wouldn’t taunt her from every corner, back to where she belonged and knew what she should do.

  “I just wanted to hold her hand, godsdammit! I swear by Star Father’s balls once I get out of this chair, I’ll yank that shiny ball out your asshole and slag it to shit!”

  The machine laughed, the lem’s head quivering oddly. “Whoa, girl. They said you were intense,” the lem said, still in perfect Khvaziz but with increasingly expressive tones. The quivering head reshaped itself from a blank slate into a more human-like face. Hair took shape, spiked out in random, messy directions. “I like you already.”

  One final shudder and a smooth-faced human male stared back at her from the lem’s head. A tangled halo of hair radiated out from the handsome face, high, wide cheekbones, and dagger-slit eyes.

  “I’m so glad we finally get to meet. Sorry about the grabbing, but it’s like the lem said, right, all for a good reason.” He nudged her arm back through the strap until her elbow touched her side. His clamp-hand reshaped into something more human-like and released her.

  “Maia will invite you to purge. You’ll agree since it’s not really much of a choice anyway. You’ll make an
awful mess, and if it looks like we can finally trust you, off these come. They must have told you that already?”

  Sabira’s anger cooled as stunned confusion took its place. Why was it, he, whatever, talking like that? Not like a machine?

  “Your name is Sabira, right? Gabriel told me all about you already, while I was out mapping. Said you already had a name and a face full of those tattoos. You and your lively friend Daggeira here both.

  “As it turns out, I’ve already got a name, too. Orion Hanada va Atara’han, Adept of the Muyama Academy. Just Orion’s fine. I’m the Embassy’s science and technology founder. Also the ship’s captain and the first person to traverse the Shattered Gates in nearly two thousand years. They told you about me, right?”

  26.

  “WHAT IN THE world is going on? Now is not the time.” Maia entered the little room, Rain just behind. “Oh. Orion. You are back. You should have told us.” She clenched her jaw, as if biting off an unspoken continuation of the sentence. Sabira thought Maia wasn’t pleased to see the lem transformed into this talkative, man-faced . . . Orion.

  “I did,” he answered, “but as soon as I synced to the nodes, the kid was screaming. So I thought I’d override and see for myself. Gave me a good chance to meet Miss Nuclear Warhead in a Wheelchair here. We’ve been having a great time.

  “You didn’t tell her about me?”

  “I said there was a third founder out exploring the Av system who would return soon. Sabira has enough to adjust to, without you overriding the lems at random.” Maia turned back to the hallway and spoke. “Cal. Come and see. Everything is fine. Adept Hanada has returned.”

  “Nothing I do is random,” said Orion.

  “Us mere mortals cannot keep up with your feats of logic, is that it?” asked Maia.

  “Well, you do just have the one brain, so it’s not really fair.”

  Cal’s head popped into the doorway. “Everybody is safe? Sabira didn’t get out?”

  “It was pretty shaky there for a while, I have to admit,” said Orion. “But I saved us all just in the nick of time.”

  “Cal, please gather everyone in the common room,” said Maia. “Let them know Adept Hanada has returned. We will be right there. Sabira, you should join us too. Orion, wheel her out. Please.”

  “No,” Sabira said. “Daggeira is waking up. I want to be with her.”

  “We do not have time for . . .” Maia started, then caught herself and took a deep breath. She stole a glance at the medtech displays. “I understand, Sabira. I do. And yes, she shows increased brain activity. But she will not be awake for at least another day. And right now we have unforeseen . . . What’s the word?”

  “Complications,” offered Orion.

  “Indeed. Complications. Sometimes synchronicity can be a pain in the ass. Orion, if you please.” Maia gestured out the doorway to the main common room.

  As Orion wheeled her out, Sabira looked back over her shoulder. Daggeira’s eyes remained closed, her face expressionless, while her fingers yearned, finding nothing.

  In the common room, Cal stood with his back to the window, holding the eeshl tight to his chest. Torque stood at his side, tenderly scratching the pet and darting glances from the corner of her eye. Coraz and Dawn sat together on a plush forma couch, both with wary, confused expressions. Derev entered the room from the opposite hallway. Behind him, Rain ushered in Playa and Zonte. Maia stood at a wall and glided both hands across the surface so that a large video display appeared.

  “Edlashuul remains too ill to arise from bed,” said Rain.

  Maia pursed her lips and nodded. Her big, brown eyes tightened. “As you can all see, Sabira is still confined to her chair, not hurting anyone. Adept Hanada is back as well, synced into one of the lems. But he is not the only one to show up unannounced. The Monarchy’s official liaison has just arrived. He is at our door as I speak.”

  She tapped the display, turning it on. The view was from a high corner of another large hexagonal room, similar to the one they gathered in. Instead of a picture window, there was an open archway. Gabriel stood in the entrance and spoke to several vleez, a lem at his side. He didn’t wear a respirator mask.

  “Switch to the lem’s view, volume on,” said Maia. The image closed in tighter on Gabriel and the four vleez he spoke with. One was dressed in elaborate clothing, full of sharp angles and bright colors. Three others stood behind, armed and armored.

  Gabriel spoke in Connish. Some of the words felt oddly familiar, as if Sabira could almost understand what was being said without ever quite being able to make sense of it. The liaison, all four arms and six tendrils gesticulating in sharp, sporadic motions, responded in the completely incomprehensible Vleezian drone. The lem interpreted in both languages as they spoke.

  “Please translate into Khvaziz,” requested Maia. All the voices from the monitor began speaking in the language Sabira understood.

  “—We know the invader is inside. You may block our scans, but our tendrils can still see. There was a human on your balcony not registered through my office. We know it is one of the invaders. You must deliver her into our custody at once.”

  “—With all due respect to Her Majesty’s Liaison, we signed a treaty, a bargain was struck. The lifter of veils has proved useful, has it not? We have honored our side of the treaty. If your queen wishes to trade for more Constellation technology in the future, treaties must be honored today.”

  That’s how they drilled our stealth fields. It was Gabriel who gave them the green sphere.

  “—This is beyond the will of even Her Majesty, this is the will of the Vleez people. Plague is sweeping across Dlamakuuz. The pandemic is swift and devastating. My people are scared and angry, and they demand justice. If you do not deliver the invader to me now, I cannot protect you from their retribution. Not in these desperate times.”

  “—Our bargain was clear, and it was fair, Liaison. All human slaves of the Theocratic Unity are to be considered in the custody, protection, and sovereignty of the Constellation of Aligned Star Systems and its Embassy. All of them.”

  “—Honored Emissary, I am afraid you do not fully understand. My people are dying, many tens of thousands every day. Her Majesty’s soldiers are among them. The Unity Slavers are raiding and attacking and enslaving all throughout the Monarchy. No help will be sent to us. You must understand, you must listen to me. It is for your safety and the safety of all your people. We know the plague was started by the Theocratic invasion. There are those who think that any human they can get their hands on must be found culpable for these atrocities, whether they belong to the Slavers military or not. Deliver her to me now, and I will do what I can to keep you and the others safe, at least for a few more days.”

  “—I cannot allow that. I feel for your people’s suffering. The orphaned child who joined us is ill as well. If I could give you a cure, I would, but we haven’t had enough time. We are still studying—”

  “—Do not divert the topic, Emissary. Please, there is no time for such games. We know at least one of the invaders is inside those walls. Of those who terrorized the city prior to the invasion, there remain a few unaccounted for. Perhaps if we come in, we’ll find more than just the female? With a word from me, these soldiers could take the Embassy, and then we could see for ourselves.”

  “—No, Liaison. They could not.”

  “—They massacred our children. They poisoned them, stabbed them, shot them like they were less than animals, right in front of their parents’ very tendrils. Before they then slaughtered the parents as well.”

  Sabira felt the distrust of her fellow humans grow thick and heavy around her. They know I did it. That I slaughtered those children. They know.

  “—We must honor our treaty. There can be no other way,” insisted Gabriel. “We must consider the consequences of our actions, you and I, each of us representatives of far greater powers than ourselves. You must understand, for my people, Embassies are sacre
d ground, the very heart of the Constellation. Should you attempt to desecrate an Embassy by force, it is a slight that will not be soon forgiven. If ever. You will need the Constellation’s technology if you want to win this war. I know this crisis is grave, but it will pass. The bonds and treaties we build now could live for centuries. Or they could die at our feet.”

  The liaison paused, his upper-left claw-hand hanging in the air, as if on the brink of ordering his soldiers. Guns shifted in their grasps, anticipating the command. After a long, wordless moment, the official waved them off, and the soldiers stepped back, lowering their weapons.

  “—I cannot guarantee your safety any longer, honored Emissary. Not if this is the path you choose.”

  “—Her Majesty’s Liaison has made that point quite clear.” The Embassy’s heavy door slid shut.

  Maia touched the wall, the screen went blank. No one spoke as every face in the room turned toward Sabira.

  “Hand me over to them,” she said. “If they take the Embassy, they’ll find Daggeira. You can give me to them, just promise you’ll keep her safe.”

  “What are you waiting for?” asked Cal. “Give her to them.”

  “Give them both,” added Derev.

  “No,” said Maia.

  “It’s the only option,” Sabira insisted. “Save yourselves. But promise me you’ll save Daggeira, too.”

  “Sabira,” whispered Coraz, rising as if to join her side, but hesitating after ahns first step. “There must be another way.”

  “Ed is dying because of her!” shouted Cal.

  “Ed is dying because of the Theocrats, Cal. Not because of her.” Maia stood at Sabira’s side. “Our mission is to liberate our lost brothers and sisters—all them, all of you—not to get stuck in the middle of territorial wars.”