Sins of Angels (The Complete Collection)

by Larkin, Matt

  He returned to the bridge. Rachel sat in the command chair, and beamed at him the moment he stepped in. “Good, you’re here.” She waved her hand and a hologram appeared in the air around her. “This is the Milky Way galaxy. And this …” She twisted her hand and the view zoomed in on a particular arm of the spiral. “This is where I believe Eden was located. With the data Thomas gave me, I was able to scour the Ark’s memories much more efficiently.”

  Eden? She was serious. Knight stepped closer, inspecting the hologram. It was just a glowing green outline, so he couldn’t get a sense of the planet. This one little ball was supposed to be the point of origin of all humanity. God-alone-knew how many people inhabited the universe, some thirty galaxies, and all mankind could trace itself back to this one world. It seemed impossible. Eden was a myth, an idea.

  “The Ark’s records name the place Earth, but I think this Earth was Eden,” Rachel said.

  Knight’s throat felt dry. Rachel had mentioned Eden, but he thought she was off rotation. If she’d really found it … she really might change the universe. What would people do, if they could see the world of mankind’s origin? Would they flock to it in droves, rushing in by the millions, by the billions?

  Or maybe nothing was left. The Codex said the Adversary had left Eden a scorched wasteland, unfit for human life. It said Angels had taken mankind on the Exodus because Eden was lost forever. And maybe finding humanity’s homeworld in ruins would only serve to dishearten people.

  And this would give the Redeemers one more reason to kill her. She was setting herself up to make enemies of half the universe, and maybe be worshipped as a messiah by the other half.

  But she wouldn’t be dissuaded. Not by anything he or anyone else could ever say. Any argument would only make her more set in her course. All Knight could do was ride it out with her, and try to keep her alive.

  “All right, what are we waiting for?”

  Rachel rose and began pacing. Time for another lecture. “People have been living in the Milky Way since the Exodus. So why has no one found this planet? Why haven’t ships visited this solar system? The answer is simple. The Conduit routes divert around the star. The Conduit is such a complex maze of near infinite pathways, no one would even notice that it deliberately flows around this system, but it must. It’s the only explanation I can find for how no one ever found the world.”

  Hidden in plain sight. Clever. “Can we get there without the Conduit?” Knight asked.

  Rachel shook her head. “Even from the nearest system, at 50 PSL it would still take years to reach the star, and going that fast we’d be dilating time around us. No, the Conduit is pretty much the only way to get anywhere in space, Knight. Which means there must be at least one path there. The Angels needed one to arrive for the Exodus, right? We just have to find it.”

  Find one path hidden among what she called near infinite pathways. It sounded like that would take years, too. Unless they had a Psych with an amazing intuitive sense.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  November 18th

  My thoughts return often to David. He has gone to New Rome, where we first met. At the time it was paradise to the both of us. We grew up there, though David was born on Calneh, and I met him when he returned for flight school. Those were simpler days, and I was, if naive, at least happy.

  For two days David sat in his cell in the Tabernacle’s brig sphere. No one came to see him. It gave him more time to sit and think than was likely good for him. He, a Sentinel, had betrayed his oath and his captain because of what the man was doing to Rachel. He’d like to tell himself he’d have done the same for any Mizraim citizen. But would he?

  Aye, he’d have been riled up to find any citizen subjected to Stigmata. Of course, he might not have even looked into it deeply enough to learn about it, were it someone else. Or maybe Leah would have told him regardless.

  And now he faced court martial for those actions. His uniform, his suit, stood for more than his rank—it was his identity. His mum had been a Sentinel, and his grandfather, and at least two generations before that. It was his blood.

  And because of what he’d done for Rachel, he faced the real possibility of losing it all.

  At last and without warning, two Sentinels arrived, their helmets encasing their faces. So he couldn’t even see the men who’d come to get him. Another bad sign. They took him back to the lift, and from there, to the Sanhedrin chamber.

  Like the brig, the Sanhedrin chamber was within a massive sphere, this one at the heart of the station. The room was dark, and the Sentinels left him alone to traverse the long walk to the center of the chamber. A podium stood there, waiting for him, lit by a spotlight. Seats for the Imperators ringed it in a semi-circle. Waiting to judge him.

  Faint lights lit each of them, enough for him to realize there were eighteen out of twenty-three Imperators here. Considering each Imperator normally ran his or her own galaxy, they had really pulled in a lot of them for this trial. Almost the full Sanhedrin.

  He scratched his head, took a deep breath, and stepped up to the podium. “Commander David McGregor, reporting as ordered.” He removed his glove and placed his hand on a palm scanner on the console. It flashed, confirming his identity.

  “This court martial is now in session,” one of the Imperators said. Akram Scott, David thought, based on his voice. The Imperator for Andromeda, and the most important member of the Sanhedrin. “Commander, you are charged with mutiny against your captain, Jonathan Waller, on board the Logos, and sedition against the Mizraim state.”

  “Sedition?” What the void?

  “This court attests that you knowingly disrupted the Sentinels from acquiring advanced technology crucial to the protection of the state.”

  They were charging him with keeping the Ark from them. It wasn’t a crime, not one he was aware of, but then, their minds had been made up before he was ever summoned. So now they wanted him to help them get ahold of the Ark. With the wee problem that meant betraying Rachel, too.

  “Do you have anything to say in your defense before we begin?”

  Whatever he might say, he knew how this would go. They would demand the Ark, and it wasn’t his to give. Aye, maybe the universe would be better if they had it. Rachel couldn’t protect it—not from the Conglomerate—and the Sentinels could use the technology and knowledge to protect the Empire. That was the rub of it all—the Sanhedrin were right. He should hand over the Ark.

  But he’d seen Rachel’s face when she felt he’d betrayed her for the Sefer Raziel. He could never see that look on her face again. He couldn’t.

  “My actions …” David cleared his throat. “It was brought to my attention Captain Waller was torturing a citizen of Mizraim using the Stigmata, a clear violation of Mizraim law regarding the ethical treatment of prisoners. When confronted, Captain Waller refused to desist this behavior. I thus felt it was my duty to relieve him of command.”

  “Yes, Commander, we have the ship’s record and Captain Waller’s testimony on file.” Damn unnerving, the voice in the darkness. It came from Scott’s direction, but since he could barely see the man’s face it was like talking to a ghost. Probably the point. “You do not deny you led a mutiny.”

  “No, sir. But my actions were mine alone.” If he couldn’t save himself, at least God let him spare the crew who had helped him. “I ordered those under me to help me relieve Captain Waller based on his actions. I assume sole responsibility for the events that unfolded on the Logos.”

  “And you interfered with Captain Waller’s attempt to acquire the Ark of the Angels.”

  “My decision was not based on—”

  “Answer the question asked, please.”

  “Aye, I did. On principle.” A cold sweat built underneath his suit. He’d known this would be bad. They weren’t really interested in what he had to say. Was this all a formality?

  “Commander, you have failed to turn over advanced technology to the state, technology crucial to the protection of the
Empire. We are willing to show lenience, if you turn over the Ark to us at this time.”

  There it was. Betray Rachel, give up her position, lose her trust, and they’d let him walk out of here with a uniform on. Fortunately, it wasn’t a choice he had to make.

  “Since being summoned by the Sanhedrin I have had no further contact with the Ark or her captain. I do not know where that ship is.” The honest truth, and they couldn’t hold it against him.

  Suddenly the room filled with complete silence. They must have engulfed him in a sound dampening field so they could discuss without him hearing. Even if he could read lips, it was too dark for that. The lack of any sound from beyond the podium left him more on edge, and he caught himself tapping his fingers on the console.

  He jerked his hands behind his back and stood at attention. Come what may, he’d followed his conscience and the law. He was on the side of what was right.

  Sound returned to the room with a feeling of slight pressure evaporating. “Commander, we give you this chance to contact Rachel Jordan and compel her to come here and turn over the Ark.”

  David’s mouth hung open, just a bit, his throat dry. Probably should have seen that coming. If he called her now, they would likely arrest her, but she would be safe. They wouldn’t harm her. Well, assuming she cooperated in telling them how to run the Ark. Which she wouldn’t. So, aye, she might well wind up back in an interrogation chair. He knew her too well. Whatever he said to her, she wouldn’t buy into any good-of-the-state argument. She was too damn proud, too sure her way was the best way for everyone. As if she could know better than the rest of mankind what was good for it.

  It was an almost childish arrogance.

  But it was Rachel. And he could not be responsible for putting her back in such a chair.

  “I cannot, in good conscience, take that action. Ms. Jordan is a Mizraim citizen, working as an Angelologist, who found a relic outside Mizraim territory. She is legally entitled to do with her claim as she wishes.” And he couldn’t ask her to give it up just to save himself.

  “Commander, set petty semantics aside. The Ark could make the difference in the inevitable conflict between Mizraim and Asherah. Do you want to be responsible for them getting it first? This is your last chance.”

  Aye, last chance. So just say it and be done with it. Say it, and give up the uniform he’d worked so hard for. Say it, and give up his honor, his commission. All he’d worked for gone—to protect all he stood for.

  “I cannot.”

  “Very well, Commander. This court finds you guilty as charged. For your crimes and refusal to cooperate with the court, you are sentenced to the penal planet Horesh for a term not less than ten years.”

  David almost tripped over his own feet. Ten years on Horesh. A lifetime. And likely a death sentence, especially for a former Sentinel.

  At that, all the lights around the Imperators went out, and he was left in darkness. Then figures moved forward, but not Sentinels. They were humanoid, but had elongated snouts, sharpened teeth, and narrow, luminescent eyes. Magog.

  The Sentinels had enlisted the Gogmagog. The Angel’s secret police were now working for Mizraim. The Sanhedrin had compromised their morals for the sake of expediency, and David feared the Ark might be the reason why.

  A pair of Magog grabbed his arms and escorted him out.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  November 19th

  New Rome’s fame has apparently spread throughout the universe, since even Knight dreamed of visiting there. Of course, the exorbitant prices of housing would have made things difficult for him. He might have raised the money to go, but he would have been hard pressed to find a way to market his particular skill-set there. Maybe none of us are destined for the futures we dreamed of.

  Time and space had become a vast, endless book to Rachel. No longer an unknowable mystery, every question in the universe had an answer, if she could only find the right place to look for it. If she only worked hard enough to understand it. But understanding was fleeting. Every answer illuminated two more questions.

  A part of her had wondered whether the Angels had made up the Adversary as an excuse to enslave mankind. A part of her believed that, if an alien force of godlike power existed, humanity would have seen it. They would have encountered it again as they spread across the Local Group over the last three thousand years.

  At least until she uncovered the recording. This world, once blue and green, now scorched and under fire from a ship in orbit, it had to be Eden—Earth, as the old records in the Ark called it. The Ark had recorded itself and other Angel ships coming in to engage the Adversary.

  The images were chaos. Bolts of plasma filled her mind, clouding her vision, as the Ark and the Adversary ship traded fire. The Adversary shot down one Angel ship, but the Ark kept closing in. More Angel ships arrived, and the Adversary retreated into the Conduit.

  The Adversary ship was made from the same glossy black organic technology as the Angel ships. The thought made the hairs on her neck stand on end. Was it possible the Adversary existed, but they used the same technology as the Angels? Or could this entire event have been staged by the Angels themselves? What had happened to that ship? Had the Angels hunted it down and destroyed it? If they had, they could still use the looming threat of this external force to cow humanity to their will.

  Rachel blinked, her eyes dry. How long had she been staring into space, images from the Ark projected directly into her mind? Her back hurt. She rose, stretching like a cat until a satisfying pop in her spine gave her some relief.

  Her stomach growled. She couldn’t even say when the last time she’d eaten was. She’d been delving deeper and deeper into the Ark’s records, trying to find the way back to Eden. Perhaps records was a misnomer. It was the ship’s memories, and like memories, they weren’t stored in a linear or logical fashion. She couldn’t just run a Mazzaroth search and get back a folio of information. She had to delve the memories, much like a telepath would delve a person’s, except the ship didn’t fight her. Perhaps the Angels had known how to properly access and organize the Ark’s database. Perhaps their own psionic abilities were so much greater than hers they could process the non-linear information more easily.

  The ship chimed, and one wall of the bridge became a Mazzaroth screen. Incoming call. Akram Scott.

  Rachel paused, staring at the screen. Akram Scott … The Mizraim Imperator for the Andromeda Galaxy? Calling her?

  “Receive call.”

  Scott’s face appeared on screen, weathered and old, probably at least a hundred and twenty. His eyes slowly scanned the bridge, widening a bit before they focused on her. Let him look. Let him drink in the power and majesty, the elegant simplicity of her Ark.

  “Rachel Jordan?” the man said at last.

  “Yes, Imperator.”

  “I see you must still be aboard the famous Ark. That’s good, very good. On authority of Mizraim, you are hereby ordered to deliver the Ark to the Tabernacle above New Rome immediately.”

  Well, right down to the point. She was, after all, a citizen of Mizraim. He might claim it was her duty to turn over such technology. Any other citizen would do it. But Rachel? No, never. Except … what would David say? He’d believed it her obligation, too. Still, her duty to humanity came before her duty to any government. Besides, who knew what they would do with such a weapon?

  No, she needed the Ark to find Eden. By leading mankind back to their homeworld, she would enable them to rise above themselves. Perhaps even reunite. The power of the Angels didn’t belong in the hands of a single government. Perhaps it belonged in no one’s hands, but it was hers now, and she aimed to keep it. And regardless, if she turned it over, the more religious among the Imperators might take it upon themselves to wake the damned Angels themselves. She didn’t know how long she could keep them secret, but she’d aim to do so as long as possible. If they woke, there would be no ascension of mankind. Humanity would be reunited—by the Angels, to be ushered back in a new Da
ys of Glory.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Imperator, I cannot comply with your request.”

  “It is not a request, Ms. Jordan. Commander McGregor has already been sentenced to ten years on a penal world for his failure to follow orders. You do not want to repeat your friend’s mistake.”

  Mac? Her stomach felt empty and her knees weak. She struggled to remain still, unwilling to let Scott see her waiver. They had sent Mac to a penal colony? Sentinel penal colonies were not much better than Gehenna had been, back in the Days of Glory. He must have refused them, refused to turn on her despite his supposed duty. God, he’d sacrificed himself, his career, for her?

  She caught her lip trembling, and forced it to stillness. Mac.

  He’d willingly marched to his court martial for duty. But he had refused them on arrival. Refused them for her sake, and for her sake he’d been damned. All to keep the Ark from them, so she could complete her mission. She wanted to believe he’d done it for the mission, though her heart knew it was just for her. And she owed it to him now to continue. If she gave in to this, his sacrifice meant nothing.

  “Imperator,” she said, her throat dry. “I cannot turn over the Ark. This ship does not belong to Mizraim, and you have no claim on it.”

  “Think carefully on your decision, Ms. Jordan,” Scott said. “You will be given one day to comply. Turn over the Ark and come home a hero. Fail to do so, and you’ll be considered a traitor to your government and treated accordingly. I await you on the Tabernacle.”

  The Mazzaroth flashed off.

  Rachel collapsed back into the command chair and let her head fall into her hands.