by Larkin, Matt
He steered them in toward the Asheran cruiser. As soon as it realized they were closing in, the foreign ship tried to make a break for it. But there was no outrunning the Wheel.
“Good morning boys,” Phoebe said. “I’ve got your breakfast right here.” She launched missiles from forty tubes at the cruiser, and followed it up with pulse cannons. Such concentrated fire broke past the enemy drones and kinetic shields in seconds. Pulses shredded the cruiser and a few seconds later it detonated like a small star.
Almost instantly the explosion began sucking itself back in. The Singularity Drive was consuming the ship. David steered the Wheel clear of debris. Get too close, the singularity would eat them, too.
A cruiser was only a stage down from a battleship, but it seemed there was a galaxy of difference between a Leviathan and a cruiser—at least when it came to standing up to concentrated fire from a Tribulation-class ship.
She blew out a breath, tried to focus on her assigned task. This was what they were here for. Fighting this war. Except, she was no soldier. She’d signed on to the Sentinels out of last desperation—there seemed no other road left to her. David believed it his duty to save Mizraim from the Asheran invasion. And Rachel’s own actions might well have precipitated this war—uncovering the Ark and then Eden. She’d been a fool, though, to think that responsibility somehow meant she’d be able to do anything here.
Knight might have belonged on this ship, but she didn’t. She’d done what she set out to do—found the secrets of the Angels. Look where it had led. People were dead, and humanity no better off.
She shook herself. God, was that David’s despair sinking into her? If she wasn’t careful, she’d drown in it.
Focus on the task. She stared at the scanner. “I … The Conglomerate ships will be able to join the battle in approximately two minutes.”
“Signal the Eternal Light.” He pointed at an enemy cruiser. “We’re taking that one out together. We need to thin their ranks before the reinforcements arrive. We’ll draw the enemy fire and the Light can move in for the kill.”
“I like moving in for the kill,” Phoebe said. “It’s my favorite part. Drawing enemy fire is much less—”
“Phoebe!” David shouted. “Not the time!”
They dove toward the cruiser, firing another barrage of missiles. The Light followed David’s tactics, coming up under the cruiser’s belly and blowing them to bits. Another singularity opened—another hole that would consume itself and anything that drew close.
The way the Light fluttered on her screen, still for a moment before breaking away, it looked like it had been a bit too near. A kilometer closer, and the Sentinels might have lost a cruiser.
The Sword of Radiance crashed into one of the enemy Leviathans. Devastating explosions washed over both ships, followed by a series of implosions. The two battleships disappeared from her screen.
“Mac—”
“I saw it.” David shook his head, but she could feel his doubt, his guilt.
The Conglomerate fleet drew closer.
“So, uh, Captain?” Phoebe said. “Now would be the time for a daring plan to save the day. Right? I mean, I like saving the day, so I’d be happy to help.”
David turned to look at her, then at Rachel, and she knew what he would say before he said it. “There is no plan, lass. We cannot win this battle.”
“I disagree,” Knight said.
Everyone turned to him.
“That battleship is the Conglomerate lead ship, right?”
“Aye, lad, but we don’t have the firepower to take on another battleship right now.”
Knight tapped a button on his suit and his helmet formed over his face. “We will.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO
My decisions, my actions, have led us all here. The Angels are awake, and one of their own lies hidden in the isolation wing of the brig. I cannot guess the end result of all this—history will be my judge.
Knight’s skills were wasted on a bridge, in ship-to-ship combat. Up close and personal, that was where he belonged. And if the drones could get him past the battleship’s defenses in a small boarding pod, he could make a difference.
A half-dozen Sentinels were in the pod with him, but he found himself wishing Phoebe was one of them. Of course, as the weapon’s officer, her role at such a time was on the bridge. Besides, it was better if she was safe. He could do what he needed to do without worrying about her.
“Ready?” one of the Sentinels asked him.
Knight nodded, and the pod launched. The force of departure threw him back against his seat. Not much inertia negation on these boarding pods. Through the smart glass he watched the endless stream of missiles, lasers, and drones. From in the pod—a container no more than five meters on a side—it all felt so much more vast. Space, the planets, and the enormous ship fast approaching.
For a brief moment he wondered if he had crossed beyond his depth. But this was why he was here. Fear was in the mind, and he was in control of his mind. People needed him.
There was nothing he could do about the incoming fire. He had to trust David to protect him—trust Phoebe to ensure they made it to the battleship. Knight would take it from there.
Reverse thrusters fired a split-second before the pod impacted the Jericho ship, slowing their descent just enough to keep from smashing themselves. Sizzling hissed outside the pod. Drilling lasers cutting a hole in the hull.
Ten seconds more and the hatch popped open, revealing the battleship interior. Knight dove through the opening in a roll. Security personnel opened fire at him with MAG rifles. The rounds bounced off his armor. He could get used to that. He shot one with a pulse pistol.
The other Sentinels shot down the remaining security before Knight could draw a bead on them. His comrades on this mission were good—a pleasant boon.
“Which way to the bridge?” Knight said.
One of the Sentinels indicated a corridor. The Jericho ship was brighter than a Sentinel one, the pale gray walls and the large light panes creating less sense of military oppression. These were corporate suits playing soldier. A choice they would regret.
Knight took off running down the corridor. Seconds later a squad of Jericho security streamed into the hall. Knight vaulted onto the wall, then off it, landing in their midst. He kicked out a man’s knee and twisted another’s wrist, pulling the guard in front of him as a human shield. MAG rounds tore through the poor bastard before his comrades realized what happened.
“Shit!” one of them shouted.
Knight chopped a guard in the throat and shot another in the face. A man leveled a MAG at him. Knight bent backward to dodge the slug and swept the man’s feet. He stomped on the fallen man’s head.
Sentinel pulses took down two more men.
Knight nodded at his companions, and they charged forward, coming to a hatch. A Sentinel attached an explosive charge to the wall, then backed away. A second later it detonated, and the hatch swung free. Knight followed the man up the ladder onto a higher level.
From the sound of it, security had swarmed beneath him. Other Sentinels were holding them off. It was fine. Knight just needed to get to the bridge.
The Sentinel ahead threw open another hatch and dove out. Knight heard pulse fire and MAG rounds above. He crested the rise in time to see two security officers fall.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Ensign Jackson.”
Knight nodded at Jackson. “Nice work. That the bridge?” He pointed at the door ahead.
Jackson nodded, and moved to place another charge on the door.
Another of his Sentinels formed in behind Knight.
“The others?” he asked.
“Falconer fell, the others are holding back the security below.”
“Fine. Hold this position. Jackson and I will take the bridge.”
“Sir, there’s likely to be at least ten people in there.”
Knight shrugged. “Then it won’t take us long.�
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The door blew, and Knight dashed inside, pulse pistol blazing. It didn’t matter who he killed here. All that mattered was protecting Rachel and Phoebe and the other Sentinels. He rolled to the side, behind a console, then grabbed a man around the neck, choking him.
The bridge crew were on their feet, shouting. Several fired MAGs at him. Rounds impacted his suit, even through his human shield, but they had no force left in them. Knight flipped over the console and kicked one man while shooting another.
“Kill the bastard!” an unarmed man shouted.
“He’s too damned fast!” one of the soldiers cried.
Jackson shot the soldier.
A man tried to grab Knight. Knight broke his wrist, spun him, and snapped his neck. Another foe fell to fire from the doorway—the Sentinel outside lending a hand.
That unarmed man—Knight had seen his picture. Caleb Gavet, the one Rachel was worried about. He could kill the man and solve the problem … but Gavet might be more useful as a hostage. Knight flipped over another console, shot a man, and caught Gavet in the ribs with a tight hook. He heard the bones crack under his blow, and the man fell to his knees with a cry.
Knight elbowed him in the face, and Gavet went down.
“Get on the comm,” he told Jackson. “Tell them we have the bridge.” He glanced at the uniform of one of the men he’d shot. The captain. No hostage there. “Tell them we have Caleb Gavet and they must stand down. In fact, tell the whole Conglomerate fleet to stand down, or Jericho loses another Chairman.”
He tapped his own comm. “Knight to McGregor. I’ve taken the bridge on the Empyrean Throne.”
“Well, that was fast, lad.”
“I was motivated.”
“Glad to hear it. We’ll swing back around to pick you up once we’ve dealt with the Asherans. McGregor out.”
Fine. So he was stuck on this ship for a little while. “Get the others up here. We have to hold this position.”
On the floor, Gavet groaned, holding his busted nose. Blood streamed between his fingers.
Knight yanked him to his feet. “And you. Tell your people to follow my orders and you might live long enough to get some nanobot regenerators for that.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE
Soon, perhaps, I will have to decide what to do with Raziel. He manipulated me, brought the Conglomerate down on the Ark … but in the end, he also helped us escape. Who is this … being? How am I to relate to someone who has lived God alone knows how many life times?
Rachel had to hand it to Knight. He knew how to work out of an impossible situation. He’d made it a habit she hoped he could keep. And David moved like God himself had breathed new life into him. She could feel the subtle shift of his emotions from despair to determination, and now, finally, hope, as he shot down another Asheran cruiser.
One Leviathan remained, but now that the Conglomerate reinforcements had withdrawn, it seemed a lot less inclined to engage the Wheel of Law. Maybe it had no idea how badly damaged the ship was. If so, she thanked God for the blessing.
The remaining Sentinel cruisers and destroyers converged on the Asherans while their battleship began to retreat for the Gate.
“Are we pursuing?” Phoebe asked. “Because I’m all for kicking them while they’re down.”
“We’re pretty much down, too, lass.”
“Well, we could still kick them, it’ll just look funny.”
David shook his head. “Let them go. We’ve lost enough people today. Rendezvous with the Empyrean Throne. I want Caleb Gavet brought aboard. That bugger is not getting out of our sight any time soon.”
An hour later, Rachel strode down the corridor. David had agreed to let her handle the interrogation, as soon as Leah had finished treating Gavet’s wounds. From what she’d heard, Knight had been … enthusiastic in subduing Caleb. Not that she blamed him. The man had apparently masterminded the Gibborim experiments.
With Rachel’s empathic gifts, she made an ideal candidate for interrogations. A true telepath would have been better, but the Wheel only had one, and she’d died in a hull breach during the battle. Besides, Caleb had been dogging her steps more than long enough. It was time they met face-to-face. She had things to ask him.
A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her, and she stumbled, bracing herself against the wall. Her knees gave out and she fell. A pounding built in her temples and her psionic nerves flared, picking up bursts of emotions from all over the ship. Fear and pain and relief and lust and grief all mingled into an emotional ride of highs and lows. She was lightheaded with it.
Release me.
What the void?
Ms. Jordan.
“Raziel?” God, that was his voice. He was in her head. “Go to hell.”
She tried to rise, but the corridor spun and she slipped back down. Bile scorched her throat, and her senses winked on and off. In the next room, a Sentinel grieved the loss of her best friend. Beyond that, she could feel a tech’s anxiety that he wouldn’t get the repairs done before the Asherans returned.
Whatever Raziel was doing to her mind was throwing both her mundane and psionic senses out of whack. Son of a bitch wasn’t going to give her a choice. They had bound him in a special cell of the brig, sealed away from all other prisoners.
She struggled to her feet, bracing herself against the wall. For a second it felt like the AG field had gone awry and the whole ship spun. She stumbled toward the lift, using the wall for support. “Brig,” she said to the computer.
The lift lowered her down, deep into the ship’s bowels. The brig was dark—Sentinels offered minimal illumination to prisoners. Perhaps the darkness was meant to keep them subdued.
Rachel bypassed Caleb’s cell, sparing him only a glance. She’d deal with him soon.
Release me.
“I’m coming, dammit!”
Release me, Ms. Jordan.
The pounding in her head continued to build, growing stronger as she neared the Angel’s cell. She punched an access code into the panel, and the isolation wing opened. By the holy universe, she’d space the bastard if he didn’t get out of her head.
All right, she had to get a hold of herself. She couldn’t face an enemy, face an interrogation, from a position of weakness. His psionic attack had compromised her, but she was in control of this situation. She took three deep breaths, then slapped the console to turn the cell’s smart glass transparent.
Raziel was bound to the cell wall, reinforced titanium shackles holding his wrists, ankles, and wings in place. The isolation cell itself was supposed to block telepathy, but apparently it wasn’t strong enough to stop an Angel.
“All right, Raziel, you got me here. What?”
“You cannot hold me, Ms. Jordan.”
She rubbed her head. If he had called her here for more of his petty arrogance … “Pretty sure we are holding you, Angel.”
“You should not do so. You do not realize what you risk.”
She shrugged. “Fine. Then tell me. No more cryptic messages, no more ambiguous warnings. No commandments, covenants, or orders. Give us the honest truth. Give me the truth. All of it. Let the secrets go, then we’ll talk about letting you go.”
The Angel sighed and lowered his head. “You don’t even understand your own request. You ask for knowledge you are not ready to comprehend and would not want to if you could. You complain of mystery, when the failing is in your own mind’s ability to understand.”
“Don’t feed me that dark matter. You want us to believe you’re some kind of superior being and you can’t even explain things in terms we can understand? Fine. Then stay here until you rot.” Or until they figured out what the void to do with him.
She turned to leave. Maybe Caleb would be more cooperative. At the very least, he should be less annoying.
“Rachel! You must release me.”
She spun back on him. “So now I’m Rachel, not Ms. Jordan? More manipulations. You think humans so simple you can move us like pawns—you said so you
rself. You seem to have underestimated us.”
Have I? Prove it.
She grabbed her head, shaking it against the sudden intrusion. “You’re the one bound in a cell. And stay the fuck out of my mind! You want me to let you go? Not likely, Angel. You used your one good deed—driving off the Adversary—as an excuse to enslave mankind under your theocracy for millennia. Your so-called Days of Glory ushered us into a mindset of servitude, not only of the body, but of the mind. You indoctrinated us so that we would teach our young whatever you wanted us to believe, and they would teach their young, and so on, until your will became the only truth we could imagine.”
“Had we done this as completely as you imply, we might not be having this conversation.”
She chuckled. “You mean because you failed to breed the insolence out of me? Not for lack of trying, I assume. You wanted us to worship your kind as gods, and you destroyed us to do so.”
“An ore must be melted down before it can be forged into something stronger.”
“Something useful, you mean! What do you even want with humanity? Why enslave us at all? Was it an ego thing? Did it inflate your sense of self-importance to see yourself lording over your mortal subjects? Why the experiments, the genetic modifications? Why destroy our existing religious systems to create your own? Oh, wait. I know the answer to the last one—control. Control our ideology, control our very minds.”
“You think yourself very clever, Ms. Jordan, but you fail to answer the questions you raise for yourself, and neglect to even ask others. Why do you want sovereignty so much? What have you done with this precious freedom of thought and action in the last six hundred years? You’ve devolved into a series of fractious tribes squabbling over scraps left behind.”
Rachel slapped the glass, unable to control her anger. “Because we were never free. What you did to us lingered long after you had gone. The doctrines, the Covenant, the teachings—they spawned sycophantic cults of zealots like the Redeemers who believed whatever they were told because they had been told by their parents. You abused a position of trust and authority to undermine the essence of humanity.”
