by Larkin, Matt
Right.
A moment later, Phoebe pointed to one of the innumerable ice towers of Ekron City. “That’s where my family lives. Fortieth floor.” She led the way into a central lobby.
The moment they stepped through the tower door a wave of warmth washed over them and Knight happily shed the damn parka. He glanced outside, but no one followed them in. Maybe it was all in his head. A lifetime on Gehenna had made him paranoid.
Phoebe buzzed the lift, and a moment later it opened. “You’re going to behave when you meet them,” she said, and stepped inside.
Knight followed and the doors shut. “Are you?”
“Yup, yup. Good little girl, that’s me.”
The lift doors opened, revealing a hall painted cool blue. Phoebe led him around a corner, then knocked on one door. A moment later it opened to reveal a middle-aged Icie woman with platinum hair and skin even paler than Phoebe’s.
“Hi, Mom!”
“Phoebe!”
The older woman threw her arms around her daughter and pulled her inside. “Oh, is this your new boyfriend?”
Knight folded his arms. Boyfriend?
“You know me, a guy in every port,” Phoebe said.
Really? Did she have so many lovers? Knight pushed the thought from his mind. None of his business.
“This is Ezekiel Knight,” Phoebe said, waving him inside.
Knight stepped in and nodded to her mother, then to her father who appeared from the other room. “Nice to meet you. You must be proud. Strong genes, I guess. I mean, you two must have good genes. Because Phoebe is obviously very fit … and healthy.”
Her parents stared at him with raised eyebrows. Phoebe shot a glare at him over her shoulder. Wrong thing to say, he supposed.
Phoebe cleared her throat. “And now we’re going to go sit in the living room. Come along, Knight.”
Right. Should he tell them he wouldn’t mind having babies with her? Would that be a compliment? He sighed and followed Phoebe into the living room. Dealing with women was easier without their families involved. Gibborim training didn’t cover that.
The Danas made small talk, then Phoebe’s mother offered him tea. He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
A few minutes later she returned, a tray of steaming tea in hand. Knight took his and sipped it. Cinnamon and cardamom, and maybe some other spice he couldn’t identify. It warmed his insides and made him relax, almost as if it were made with liquor.
“You know, I haven’t heard from your brother in a while,” Mrs. Dana said. “Not since … You know Sentinels came here, asking about him. If we knew where he was …”
“I know, Mom.” Phoebe stared at her teacup.
“They said he’s working with the Sons of Cain. Can you believe that? Could it be true?”
Who? The name sounded familiar, but Knight couldn’t place it. Maybe he’d heard it in passing.
Phoebe said nothing, which all but confirmed her mother’s question.
“I guess that answers that,” Knight mumbled, and Phoebe glared at him. Again. Whatever.
“Darling, we need to know,” her father said. “Has he really gone into the Expanse? Has he joined those pirates?”
Pirates? Knight had heard stories about pirates preying on transports, then retreating into the Expanse of Nod. Gehenna lay on the edge of the Expanse, so rumors reached the planet, even if the Shadow Council took no concern of them. Supposedly even Sentinels feared to head into the Expanse. Angels had forbidden travel there long ago.
“I don’t know, maybe,” Phoebe said at last. “They asked me the same questions. I haven’t talked to Ezra in even longer than you.”
“Your brother’s a pirate?” Knight asked.
She shot him a look of rage. And he was getting damn sick of it. He didn’t have to put up with her being so touchy. She wanted to take a few minutes to see her parents, he’d given her that. And now she was acting like she expected something from him. What the void?
“Yeah, okay, that’s fine,” he said. “There’s worse things. Look, we’re here on a mission, Phoebe. We’ve got to find this guy, and we should do it fast. Sticking around this planet is not a good idea.” They were deep in Mizraim space, and sooner or later Sentinels would come for the Ark, whatever David said.
“What the void, Knight! This is a serious matter. My little brother could be out there killing people—”
“The both of us have had to do so plenty of times ourselves. It happens.”
“I am a Sentinel!” She’d risen to her feet. “I have a duty to—”
“Dress it up however you like. The dead don’t care why they’re dead. Tell yourself you’re better than this Ezra if it makes you feel better. Whatever. It’s time to go.”
Phoebe set down her teacup. “Sorry, Mom, Dad.” She turned on Knight, her face screwed up in anger. “I’ve got this annoying buzz in my ear I’ve got to check out.”
Knight grabbed his parka and headed for the door.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Icies have an almost diametrically opposed Race, the Smolders. Like Smoggers, Smolders have lungs capable of processing harsh, volcanic atmospheres. But moreover, they were engineered to survive extreme heat, and thus have little love for the cold. Since the Vanishing, there has been a subtle, but continuous animosity between the two Races. Interestingly, though, intermarriage between them is not uncommon, and their offspring seem to balance their natures.
According to Rachel, O’Malley worked in the Ekron City Conservatory, a geothermal-powered tower at the center of the city. Phoebe said basically nothing the whole walk there, which was fine by Knight—better than hearing more of her damned ranting.
They took a lift to the roof, and had to walk down a short path to the dome. Up here, a hundred stories in the air, the wind bit to the bone, and his nose burned from even a moment’s exposure. He wrapped his parka tighter around his face and pulled open the door.
“God, you’re not even going to apologize, are you?” Phoebe said from behind him.
So she was finally talking to him again. “For what?”
Phoebe opened her mouth to say something, shook her head, then shoved him aside. She stormed off down the hall, leaving him out in the cold. Knight clucked his tongue.
Damn woman. What the void should he even care what the Sentinel thought? They had nothing in common, anyway.
He followed her inside and a wave of heat washed over him, almost stifling after the freezing cold outside. He stripped out of his parka and laid it by the door, then drew in a lungful of warm air, letting the heat suffuse his body. Humans didn’t belong on such a cold planet. He should have let Phoebe come alone. She could have handled finding another Icie.
He strode down the short hall and into the proper dome. In here, the ground fell away in a funnel, revealing dozens of tiers of vegetation. The dome directed sunlight and heat down on them, and a spray of mist dusted the plants. A circular path led down through the tiers. Story after story of hanging vines, herb gardens, and bushes.
Knight turned around slowly, taking in the maze of greenery. Gehenna had nothing like this—not that he’d ever seen. Most planets got their food from Manna Products, but this place probably produced enough to feed half the city. Tomatoes, olives, berries, roots, and vegetables he didn’t even recognize.
He had read about rain forests in the Mazzaroth, and this place reminded him of that. Plants everywhere and hot moisture filling the air. So odd after the frozen world just outside.
Would New Rome have forests like this? He’d read much of the planet was unspoiled, overgrown with plants. He supposed a forest must look something like this place.
A few questions pointed them toward an Icie working on a lower tier. They had to take a winding path down to reach him.
“Thomas O’Malley?” Phoebe said.
The man looked up from vine-growing grapes. “Yes, that’s me.” His eyes were pale, pale blue, his skin almost albino. Despite it, the man seemed hail and healthy. His spiked h
air was dyed green. “You’re a Sentinel.”
“Yup, that’s me. Sentinel errand girl. Escorting assholes around the known universe. Know any assholes, O’Malley? Because apparently that’s my full time work now. It’s a secret mission straight from the top.” She put a finger to her lips. “Shhh.”
Knight shook his head. Yeah, okay. “We’re here on behalf of Rachel Jordan. She says you have something for her.”
“Ah, well … yes.” The Icie fingered something inside his jacket. “I might … I mean, I do. But I think I should give it to her in person. You know, see the ship for myself. Only fair, after all. I’ve worked for so long …”
Knight glanced at Phoebe, who stared at him blankly. Fine. His call. “You want to come up with us?” Why not? He could always kill the man if he caused trouble. “Fine. But first give me the—”
The dome above shattered with a tremendous crash. Giant shards of smart glass tumbled down from above. Knight tackled Phoebe to the ground, knocking her out of the way of one that would have split her in half.
He rolled to his feet in an instant. A dozen Shiza Security personnel descended on cables strung from a hover carrier. They had MAG rifles out a second later, opening fire on anything that moved.
Cold-worlders exploded in a spray of blood all around him. Knight flipped onto the rail surrounding the funnel and shot one Shizan with his pulse pistol. He ran along the rail and jumped into the air, snagging another Shizan around the waist. The man flailed against him. Knight scrambled up the man, landing blows on him as he climbed. A twist broke the man’s neck.
Another Shizan aimed a MAG rifle at him.
Pulse shots from below took out his attacker, and Knight flipped free.
“O’Malley’s dead!” Phoebe shouted.
Knight glanced in her direction. The Icie had been gunned down in the initial barrage.
“Get his data chip!” he shouted at her. He dove through a cluster of tomato vines and came up behind the greenery. More MAG rounds rained down around the Conservatory. Phoebe’s suit would protect her, but not for long. Knight’s nanomesh coat would hold up for even less than that.
He stalked through the vegetation, then leapt out as a Shizan passed. His weight bore the man down, and Knight slipped a knife through a gap between the helmet and the armor’s chest plate.
He rolled back into the plants as MAG rounds tore through the man he’d just killed.
“Knight, retreat!”
Phoebe made a break for the door. More Shizans swarmed after her. Knight leapt from hiding and roared at them, firing wild pulse shots into their midst. A heartbeat later and he was among them. Time slowed for him, and he caught a man’s arm. He twisted and flipped, flinging the Shizan over the rail and down through the funnel.
The man fell, screaming for thirty stories. Knight already had a hand around another Shizan. He turned the man about, bent him over his pulse pistol, and fired at point blank. The man’s weight tore the gun from Knight’s hand as he fell.
Just as well. Knight was better without it.
Another attacker tried to shoot him. Knight jerked to the side, avoiding the rifle’s trajectory, and swept the man’s legs. In the same motion, he brought his own foot down on the fallen man’s head.
He shoved the last Shizan, and made a break for the door. Knight moved to grab his parka. The walls exploded into shrapnel as MAG rounds tore through them. No time for comfort. He ran outside.
Without the heavy clothing, the wind instantly made his limbs numb. His legs seemed to slow, even as he ran. Outside, more Shizans were piling onto the roof.
Phoebe had shot down at least five, but these guys kept coming. Knight ran toward her, but his foot slipped on the ice and he skidded, nearly colliding with the Sentinel.
She grabbed him around the waist, then leapt over the side of the building.
“What the—”
The wind stripped away his words and scorched his throat with cold. Freezing air whipped his hair into his eyes, and all he could do was clutch onto Phoebe as they fell. Even through her Sentinel suit, he could feel her warmth. Her cheek pressed against him was his only defense against the biting cold.
A split second before they hit the ground, their descent slowed. A grav-net in her suit must have caught them. They impacted hard, and she landed in a crouch.
“Run!” she shouted at him.
He tried, but his legs weren’t working right. It was so … damn … cold.
He scurried after her.
More shots crashed into the street behind them. Phoebe darted around a building and kept running.
“Thank you,” Knight said, or tried to, though his teeth chattered.
“Yup, yup. Saving your ass is what I do. You are an ass. You know that, right? I mean, I thought you should know that if you didn’t already.”
What the void? She was going to do this now. He couldn’t even feel his feet, which meant his every step seemed clumsy, weak. He stumbled after her as she headed for the spaceport.
“Right. I’m an ass. Never been called anything that bad in my line of work before.”
“I asked you to behave with my parents!”
He was pretty sure he had behaved.
“Just because you never had any brothers or sisters doesn’t mean you shouldn’t understand those of us who do!”
Because so much good had come from siblings that he could see. Rachel’s brother nearly killed her and Phoebe’s had apparently run off to play pirate. Which actually didn’t sound that bad. “What’s the matter, Sentinel, can’t stand having a criminal in the family?”
“You were raised into the Gibborim … Is that why you’ve got no manners? Social training not high on the priority list for you people? Too busy learning how to kill and annoy people to death? Why the void should I expect a man with no family to understand what one means?”
Knight set his jaw. He didn’t need a family. He’d had Hadrian … the man had been his best friend, his mentor. And Knight had killed him. In the end, you could count on no one but yourself. Except, now he had Rachel. She’d been a true friend to him. She’d come for him when he was in danger.
No brothers to betray him. No sisters to scorn him for the life he’d led. And his only parents had been the Gibborim themselves.
Gideon and Shahana Knight. Those were his real parents’ names. The only other thing he knew about them is that they died and he was taken by the state. If they had lived, maybe he’d have grown up in a home and have understood all of Phoebe’s inane nonsense.
Instead, he was left befuddled, freezing, and losing patience. He didn’t need any brothers or sisters or parents. He was strong, he was a ghost in the night.
And they had other worries. It was no time for one of her tantrums. Shiza Security were mercenaries, which probably meant Jericho had hired them to hunt down the Ark. Of course, it could be anyone—Rachel had certainly made enough enemies.
And now he had to pray another company of Shizans didn’t guard the spaceport.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
I met Thomas about a year before I first came to Gehenna. In him, I found a kindred spirit, albeit one rarely willing to take the risks necessary to truly save humanity. And yet, I could feel his passion to return us to our homeworld. Just one step on the road to breaking free from Angel oppression.
The cerulean forests of Sepharvaim swayed in the morning breeze, rippling like waves far beneath Caleb’s office. He stared out the window, unable to make himself look at Rebekah. She lay naked, sprawled across his expensive rug, breathing heavily. As spent as he was.
God, he was disgusting. At home, Ayelet was probably preparing lunch for their kids. Unaware her husband had betrayed her. Again.
He could fire Rebekah, send her away. It’s what he’d done with the others when he tired of them, each time assuring himself she would be the last. He loved his wife. He’d just made a mistake—only a moment of weakness. A thousand such moments.
It’s what he told himself. Almost
every day.
And almost every day he found a new corner of his office to take his nineteen-year-old assistant. Unable to stop himself, he glanced at her. Her fiery orange hair splayed over her face and she gnawed on one lip. Despite himself, lust stirred in him again.
He was drawn to her spread form like the pull of a sun, an orbit he could never break away from. DNA called out to reproduce itself. That was all.
He knelt beside her, clenched his jaw in an effort to keep from taking one of her breasts in his mouth. There she was, ready for him. Just one more time wouldn’t hurt anything. It wouldn’t make any difference.
He was going to hell.
“You came to tell me something,” he managed to say, his body trembling with effort.
Ayelet. Ayelet. Ayelet.
Rebekah rose to sit, and Caleb struggled to keep his eyes on her face. On that damned ring in her nostril that demanded he take her every way he could.
“Mmm,” she said. “I had that report on Mathison you wanted …”
Yes. Yes! Work.
Caleb almost jumped up, scrambling to his pants. Walk it off, Caleb. Just walk it off. He yanked on his pants, and returned to focus on the forest. “Yes, tell me.”
Jonas Mathison was the Chairman of Jericho Corp. He’d been up to something—all the board members undoubtedly were always up to something, most especially Caleb himself. They were all on the same team, technically. But if you stopped planning, seeking, scheming, you’d find yourself left behind. Or dead.
“Mathison has mounted an expedition into the Expanse of Nod. He took a Jericho cruiser. Off the books—I had to do some digging to find out.”
Did she dig for information from others the same way she satisfied him? Did she use her nubile body to get ahead? If so, he could hardly blame her. One had to work with what one had. Of course, it would mean he couldn’t trust her. Yet another reason to let her go. He should have done so already … But it was more than her body that proved useful. She was a damn fine assistant, anticipating his needs and always prepared, ever working to advance his career. Perhaps she knew her fate was tied to his.
