by Larkin, Matt
Rachel had called such forced breeding dehumanizing, tantamount to rape. Sure, families with ten children weren’t as common as they were in the Days of Glory. David only had five brothers and sisters, which, even five hundred years ago, would have been a small family. Rachel had denounced the Third Commandment in her classroom, and it, among her other controversies, had cost her all she’d built of her life.
At her age, she was already arousing suspicion by being childless. If things had been different, maybe the two of them would already have kids. He’d wanted them, but she denied it was her duty to have children at all. Strange thought, that.
David gently shut the book and carried it back to his dresser with both hands. Usually it was easier to find answers.
He slumped onto his bunk. He’d met Rachel for the first time at Testament Flight School, on New Rome. He still pictured her like that sometimes, in a flight jacket blue as the sky. She’d walked right up to him and said she planned to challenge his position as the top pilot in the school.
Not that there was ever a chance of that.
“You’re a Sentinel, right?” she’d said.
“Aye.”
“You don’t look so tough.”
David laughed. At almost 190 cm and well-muscled, he knew he looked damn tough. “You’re just mistakin’ my Calnehian charm, lass.”
That weekend, he’d taken her to dinner up in the Pinnacle, a soaring arboretum above the clouds. The sun reflected off its white sheen like the sparkle off a sea of diamonds, and looking down, you could see the endless fields and rivers of New Rome, just beyond the edge of the city proper. Most Mizraim citizens could never afford to visit the Pinnacle, much less live on New Rome. David had been lucky, even despite what had happened to his mum.
The view from the Pinnacle was not one you’d ever forget. Across from his bunk on the Logos, David had hung a painting his da had done of that view, the only decoration in his quarters. It reminded him of his da, who had never been the same after losing David’s mum. And it reminded him of Rachel, the only girl he’d ever taken there.
After her, it seemed wrong to take anyone else. Like it would tarnish the memory.
And Rachel had given him a lot of memories. David had graduated flight school first in his class, a Rephaite level pilot—the highest honor a pilot could achieve. The medal sat on his dresser, beside the Codex. It meant he was the top .01% of all pilots in the universe. His psionic gifts were strong, at least as far as navigating the Conduit went, and they had served him well.
And despite all the honors—and they were great—his memories of Rachel remained his most precious there. Children aside, he should have married the lass. If she hadn’t made it clear she wasn’t ready for children. If she hadn’t felt such an off rotation need to question every rule… David shook his head at the unwanted, and unexpected, thought. He had no business with such dreams.
She was always too headstrong, anyway. She could have waited for him, she could have stayed with him. But when he returned to duty, things turned sour. They’d seen each other face-to-face so rarely, and she couldn’t keep her opinions to herself.
She couldn’t keep from sabotaging her own career, and didn’t have enough respect for his. And now she was going to go after the Sefer Raziel with or without his help. It was just her way. If he did nothing, she’d die out there.
He ordered the Mazzaroth on. “Show me planet Gehenna.”
A red world orbiting a red dwarf filled the screen. Toxic atmosphere filled with ash and sulfur. A former penal colony, now an independent oligarchy owing allegiance to no major power. High levels of volcanic activity made much of the surface uninhabitable, and hellish cities made the rest a nightmare.
Population approximately five million. David swiped his hand, processing reams of data about the place. What madness had driven Rachel there? Was she so desperate to prove herself? Or so in need of money she’d take this risk?
Another swipe of his hand. The local government enforced their rule through a brutal peacekeeping force of soldiers with little accountability. Like their own private Sentinels, only without the rule of law. Another swipe. The ultimate enforcers were assassins called Gibborim, a handful of individuals given authorization to take any steps they deemed necessary in defense of the government.
David scratched his head. Rachel needed to get out of that place, and she wouldn’t leave until she got what she wanted. Too damn stubborn.
David sighed.
“Access all records on the Lazarus Group,” he said. “And the Sefer Raziel, side-by-side.”
The screen flickered, lining up pages of information.
David sighed again.
CHAPTER TEN
September 24th, 3096 EY
Before coming here I did what research I could on Gehenna, but it lies outside the Mizraim Empire, so information was limited. More than a thousand years ago the Angels established Gehenna as a penal colony. After the Vanishing, some six hundred years ago, the planet fell into chaos. From this chaos rose a faceless oligarchy calling themselves the Shadow Council—a secretive cabal that enforced despotic rule of this planet through assassins called the Gibborim.
With Knight in tow, Rachel had visited the Babel Bazaar once more, seeking leads, and, if she was honest, a good meal. She’d found neither. The bistro had advertised Andromedan curry, but the food was stale and lacked the tangy kick Rachel had hoped for.
Frustrated, she sunk down on her bed. Knight sat in a chair, watching her, so she stared at him, silently daring him to remark on her failures.
“Finding lost relics not so easy, huh?” he said.
Dare accepted.
Rachel glowered. “You could do better?”
“I didn’t make it my business.”
She gave him the finger and he snorted, giving her a faux salute.
“Incoming call,” the Mazzaroth chimed.
Rachel stood. David. Probably going to lecture her again. She shouldn’t have hung up on the self-righteous prick. He deserved better. “Receive.”
David’s handsome face flickered onto the screen. His short, light brown hair was slicked back. But it was his weary eyes that held her gaze the most. He was only a couple of years older than her, but he looked more right now.
“Mac?”
“Rach. You’ve really got your heart set on this?”
“You know me.”
“Aye, too well.”
So he was going to help her. Rachel tried not to break into a grin, but she knew it was tugging at the side of her mouth. David couldn’t help himself, could he? God, she wished he was right here, so she could feel his emotions. The Conduit amplified psionic energies, but she couldn’t get an empathic read through the Mazzaroth.
Her crusade had cost her too much. Had cost him. Sometimes, she dreamed about him. She dreamed she had stayed on New Rome, given in to his obvious desire for children. They were good dreams. Except that countless generations continued on until the end of time—stagnant and unchanging, never moving forward. Never able to see beyond the past or grasp the future. And she’d wake, still trying to find the right words to make him see that. As if convincing just that one person would make it all worthwhile.
“Lass, you know these people are dangerous.”
“Yeah, I—”
She hadn’t seen Knight move, but suddenly he was beside her, hand over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’s got danger all around her.”
Rachel shrugged Knight’s arm off her shoulder. “What’re you doing?” A flare of jealousy lurked beneath his smile. The sickest of all emotions, perhaps, though a small part of her almost enjoyed it.
“Who’s this then?” David said.
Rachel glared at Knight. Perfect. Clearly she should have explicitly told Knight not to show himself. The man must need things laid out for him.
“My bodyguard, Mac. Don’t worry about it.”
From the look on his face, he was worried about it. “I’m not sure whether to be worried
you need a bodyguard, or relieved you realized it in time to get one.”
Rachel pushed Knight away, and he stepped back out of the screen’s line of view. Too little too late. “Just be relieved,” she said. “This isn’t why you called…”
“No, it’s not,” he said, with that slight Calnehian accent of his, and as always, it made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. It reminded her of the things he’d coo while nuzzling her neck. “I did what you asked, God help me.”
“Thank you, Mac.” God seemed inclined to help her, at last. “And the Lazarus Group?”
“Intel says they’re running things out of a bunker in Machpelah, a city in Gehenna’s southern hemisphere. It’s near a vast caldera field, Rach. Big sulfuric geysers and so forth. Not a nice place.”
“Well, at least you could breathe there.” She brushed her hair away from her face.
“Not funny, lass. You don’t want to spend any more time there than you have to.”
Well that was an understatement. Rachel would be just as happy to leave Gehenna behind her. It’d make a fine story some evening, when she was toasting her successes in style, vindicated before her peers. What it didn’t make was a nice place to be in the here and now.
“I don’t know exactly where in Machpelah this bunker is. Intel on Gehenna is somewhat limited. The Empire never had too much interest in the planet.”
“It’s fine, Mac. It’s a place to start.”
David scratched his head. “Aye, it’s that. Rachel, I did some research about the Sefer, too. Someone in the Sentinels seems to think it’s real.”
She damn well hoped so, after all this.
“If it is, if an Angel really recorded the secrets of the universe, you know other people are gonna want this thing? Want it bad enough to…”
“Yeah.”
David smiled at her, though his eyes looked sad. “Aye. I’ve got to report for duty.”
“Mac… Thanks.” Rachel stilled the impulse to blow him a kiss. A foolish thought. They’d been down that road and it had led nowhere. In a perfect universe, things would have been different, and maybe he’d have left his post for her. Or maybe she’d still be teaching, and everything would be like it was.
But the universe had more than one flaw. And she could only be expected to solve one at a time.
David nodded. “Mazzaroth off.”
She sighed.
“Helpful guy,” Knight said.
“Shut up.” A tremble started in her chest, and she had to clench her fists to still it. Had she made a mistake, back then? Should she have tried harder?
But if she let doubt cloud her path now, she’d fail. Nothing would change, and humanity would remain mired in the weight of traditions imposed on them.
But then… she could have David. His face almost told her as much. They could go back to New Rome, raise a family. Even Jeremiah might forgive her. Void, if she got pregnant, he’d probably take it as a sign, even raise a toast in her honor.
“To Machpelah, then?” Knight said.
This was about more than her life. It was about the lives of those same children she was thinking of. “To Machpelah,” she agreed. “Does the monorail go there, or do we need a shuttle?”
Knight stretched. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
Rachel nodded, and he left. She started to pack, then realized she didn’t really have anything here to take. She really needed to buy some new clothes. Some of the plain brown wraps locals wore might be in order.
True to his word, Knight returned quickly. She followed him downstairs, where he had parked a hoverbike. The thing was black and chrome, far duller than the racing bikes she’d tried on the New Rome tracks. Scratches marred some surfaces. This thing had been through a fight, probably several.
“You’re going to drive that to Machpelah?”
“It’s best we have our own transportation in an unfamiliar city.”
“You’ve never been there?”
Knight frowned, and straddled the bike. “Once or twice. I know the way.” He tossed her a helmet. “Get on.”
Really, there was no point in arguing. Having their own ride would be an asset. With a sigh, she sat down behind Knight, wrapping her arms around his waist.
When he turned on the bike the windshield extended upward, providing some cover. The bike hummed, then lifted a few feet off the ground. It wasn’t as smooth a ride as the racers she was used to, but it had power. They took off down the road, at perhaps 120kph. Knight zoomed through the Beeroth streets with practiced ease, bobbing and weaving around other hovers.
In moments they were leaving the city behind, and open waste spread out in front of them. Knight accelerated, and the bike kicked up past 300kph. A gravity field split the wind in front of them, keeping her from being thrown off, but it was damn loud. Talking would be impossible, and she still had to hold tight.
His emotions surged. Was it her hands around his abdomen, or just the thrill of the speed? A stronger empath might be able to tell the difference. But really, it didn’t matter. She felt herself warm from the closeness, for the feel of his hard muscles beneath his armor.
But Knight wasn’t an option. He was too far off rotation, too dangerous. Instead, she entertained herself by picturing David’s smirk when he’d win a race, his good natured jibes.
Lightning coursed from black clouds in the sky ahead. She never heard thunder. To the left, a geyser spewed vapors and ash, perhaps a kilometer away from the road. Knight accelerated, but otherwise paid it no mind.
Few hovers traveled the road between cities. The planet was so empty. Like the whole population hid in a few cities, trying to forget the world they lived on. Moments later, Knight zipped around a cargo transport, hovering a bit higher off the road.
Rachel glanced down. Road might have been a stretch. It was a designated travel lane, but hardly paved. The markers every hundred meters or so must have just indicated areas clear of the geysers.
If she still had her ear comm she could at least talk to him. But now that she thought about it, she’d never seen Knight with a comm, either. Who in the holy universe carried no comm? Well, except for her—but she’d had reason to cast hers aside.
It must have been two hours before another city crested the skyline. It was smaller than Beeroth, but no less oppressive. Dark metal towers reached into the sky like fingers trying to dig their way out of a mire. The ash and pollution thickened over the city, hiding even the dim red sunlight she’d seen on occasion on the way here.
This was Machpelah. And somewhere in that twisted city she’d find the Lazarus Group.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gehenna lies in the Pegasus Dwarf Galaxy, most of which falls under Mizraim jurisdiction. However, the Empire never showed interest in Gehenna, perhaps because a world so near the Expanse of Nod—a world without any natural resources—was simply not worth the effort to claim. Most of the rest of the universe was content to let the Shadow Council play their meaningless power games, trapped on their hellhole much as if it were still a prison.
The truth was, Machpelah wasn’t much different than Beeroth. The city was a bit smaller, with a population of perhaps a million people. But the architecture, clothes, and people all seemed about the same to Rachel.
“How do you plan to locate them?” Knight asked, after she booked a room in another hotel. They were high up, higher than she’d wanted, on the fortieth story. It’d be hard to make an escape from here, if it came to that. But then, she didn’t intend to spend much time in the room.
She shrugged. “It’s not like we can just check an information directory. But money tends to open a lot of doors.”
“True. You want me to handle it?”
Rachel frowned. It might make it easier if she let him, but that would mean trusting him completely. It was hard to throw full trust in someone just interested in the money. Besides, she needed to see this through herself. “No. I’ll come with you.”
“I suppos
e you want to sample the local cuisine first.”
Rachel smirked, but shook her head. “Later.”
They spent the next two days combing the city. Rachel had lost count of how many kesitahs she’d spent on bribes. Funny, currency she’d once considered next to worthless had started to add up. It was so easy to spend more money than you realized when using foreign coin.
“This guy, they say he knows,” Knight said, as they headed for Club Migdal. No sign announced the club, but Knight seemed to know where they were going. He led her down a staircase to an underground airlock.
“What is this place, anyway?”
“A pit fighting club. The rich sometimes come here to bet on martial artists in the ring.” He hit the buzzer, and the airlock whooshed open. “The government knows about these places, and doesn’t do anything to stop them as long as the owners keep a low profile.”
“Why would the government even care?”
Knight glanced at her. “Even on Gehenna, death matches are frowned on.”
What? “You mean the fights are to the death?”
Knight didn’t answer, just stepped through the airlock into the club when it opened.
“Why would anyone take that chance?” she asked.
Knight paused and spoke into her ear. “Suits put a lot of money into it. A good fighter could make a small fortune. A half dozen fights with the right backer, and you might not have to work for years.”
“Then why don’t you do this?” she asked before she could stop herself. She’d seen Knight kill people just for the money she was paying him. The thought made her stomach squirm. It was too easy to forget what he was, to start to like him. Too feel that edge of warmth under his simmering mass of rage and tension. Somewhere, deep down, he wasn’t all bad, but he was out of control.
“Attracts a lot of attention from those suits, like I said. People in my line of work don’t want attention.”
Wonderful. So he boycotted the blood sport not out of principle, or even fear of death, but out of desire to remain anonymous.
