Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  Throughout it all, Kaly and her companions stayed right where they were, and so did the Sisterhood MP’s. She knew that they desperately wanted to jump into the fight, but she was equally aware that their commander had no desire to inflame the locals against the Sisterhood any more than they already had. There was enough propaganda working against them as it was.

  Kaly kept scanning the area, positive that something else was going to come their way. When it did occur, it caught everyone, even her, by surprise. There was no tell-tale report, or a flash to signal it, but suddenly one of the Sisterhood MP’s fell, and then a second one dropped. On the Com, the alert went out right away, “Trooper down! Trooper down! We’re under fire!”

  The Sisterhood soldiers hunkered down or scurried for whatever cover they could find for themselves, and the ETR policemen who weren’t distracted by the fighting did the same. Unfortunately, some of their brethren panicked and opened fire with their side arms in whatever direction they thought the attack was coming from.

  Protestors scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving behind their injured to fend for themselves. Even though the riot as such was over, it had been replaced by something far worse—an active shooter with multiple targets of opportunity to choose from.

  “Overwatch,” Kaly demanded. “Anything?” Her scope was giving her nothing to target, and she was counting on the starships high above her to provide her with something.

  They did. Their sensors had spotted the path of the bullets that had just been fired. The process was far from precise though; the agency of atmospheric interference and the extremely small size of the rounds themselves made any detection more a matter of estimation than anything else.

  There was a long, terrible pause, and another Sisterhood trooper was wounded, making Kaly want to scream aloud in pure frustration—and shoot something. Finally, the starship got back with her.

  “Team Three, we have a possible track 47 degrees to your right, approximately 12.19 meters up.” As Vasquaaz brought her own rifle around to bear, Kaly swung Tatiana towards the coordinates. At first, she saw nothing new; just the same roofline and empty windows. Next, she switched over to infrared, and when this disappointed her, the bioplasmic band. Again, nothing.

  She wasn’t surprised. The chances were that they were dealing with another shooter equipped with one of their own ponchos. If he, or she, was any better than their predecessor, she knew that they would already be on the move, or would relocate very shortly.

  “Overwatch,” she said. “I want anything you have leaving the area near those coords.”

  Suddenly, an idea came to her, and she added, “Also give me a visual scan of everything coming out from under the location, overlay with a sewer map and key to any thermal or bio trace. I don’t care if it’s only a rata or kaatze!” It was just possible that the sniper would use the same tricks that she and her team had employed on Treya Angelaz to elude the Hriss.

  The naval ships standing watch responded right away. Just as she had suspected, they found a trace of something larger than a rat that had moved through one of the sewers and surfaced onto a street several blocks away from the square. They were also tracking several vehicles that were in the process of leaving the area.

  An SRU team responded to the sewer exit immediately, and police units quickly caught up with the suspicious vehicles and stopped them. In both cases, they came up empty handed.

  The sniper had done exactly what she would have done in their place. They had used the Sisterhood’s own tricks against it.

  The only thing that the RSE had to show for all its troubles were the shooter’s rifle and the poncho. These had been left behind at the foot of the ladder that the sniper had used to exit from the sewer.

  There was also a card, which by now, had become all too familiar to the teams. It was the Angel’s card, with the same motto, and ghoulish imagery.

  A new Angel had been born. Within days, the Loyalistas took full advantage of this propaganda opportunity. Leaflets appeared nearly everywhere, celebrating the Angel’s daring and their supposed ‘immortality’. They also promised more killings in the name of ‘justice’.

  But when the Angel did strike again, it wasn’t in the capitol. It was in Calitraavya. This was the second largest city in the ETR, in the Reganna Provensa, and at the opposite end of the Republic.

  Although this made the Angel a problem for another group of SRU Teams, Kaly did manage to find comfort in two things. The first was that they had forced the Angel to leave the capitol, and the second, was that he or she would surely return when they thought that the Sisterhood’s guard was down in Nuvo Bolivar.

  Kaly and her fellow snipers would be waiting.

  ***

  Undisclosed Location, Sinope District, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1048.10|12|07:91:64

  When Ellen n’Elemay was summoned again, her meeting was with Sister n’Avenal.

  “The Redeemer was rather impressed with you,” N’Avenal began. Her tone however indicated that she was not quite as overawed.

  “He feels that you are the perfect person to be his Holy Sword of Justice. What I want to know, Sister Ellen, is exactly what you have in mind to fulfill such a grand destiny. The Church is tired of being on the run. We need to strike back.”

  “I agree, Sister,” N’Elemay replied. “The Sisterhood must be taught to fear us.”

  “So you have some kind of plan?” N’Avenal asked, not bothering to mask her skepticism. So far, the Societas Mariaa, the Church’s Counterintelligence and Special Actions Department, had only managed to pull off a few isolated bombings, and an attack on a police substation. None of these assaults had caused their opposition any great concern. Even with the help of the Bio Action Army, their enemy was simply too large and too powerful for these events to amount to anything more than minor annoyances.

  What they needed, N’Elemay knew, was something so shocking that it would capture the attention of every citizen in the Sisterhood, and force them to confront their sins. Something both bloody and spectacular.

  “Not yet,” N’Elemay admitted. “I do have some high-value targets in mind that could radically change the equation however. I’ll need a little more time to evaluate them.”

  “Time, Sister, is not something that we have a lot of,” N’Avenal countered. “Our situation in Thermadon is growing increasingly precarious. The RSE has already managed to shut down several of our safe houses, and they are hot on the trail of our technical people. It won’t be long before they will be able to keep us out of the omniplex and deny us places to hide. I intend for us to leave well before that eventuality.”

  “I understand, Sister,” N’Elemay responded. “All I need is a few days, and I’ll have something for you that will put them on the defensive. I promise.”

  N’Avenal regarded her doubtfully. “Very well, what can the Societas do to help?”

  “At the moment, nothing,” the ex-Marauder replied. “I have everything that I need right here.” She held up a plastic rectangle about the same size as her palm. It had a lanyard attached to it, and a clear plastiglass eye set in its center. Around this was the legend, “Thermadon Val; City of a Thousand Years, City of a Thousand Wonders.”

  N’Avenal recognized it as one of the disposable hologuides that were available to any tourist visiting the capitol. “That is all you need?” she asked.

  “Yes, Sister. For now.”

  At this, N’Avenal rose, smoothing down the folds of her robe. “I will await your report,” she said. Their meeting was at an end.

  As they entered the hallway together, N’Elemay saw Sister n’Aida, accompanied by an acolyte, and coming the opposite way. Dressed in a distinctive blood-red robe just like the one the Redeemer now wore, she was his right hand in all things, and just a step below him in sanctity.

  Their eyes met. N’Aida’s gaze had a soul-penetrating power that N’Elemay felt immediately in the very depths of her being. Si
ster n’Aida knew her, and on the deepest possible level.

  The woman smiled at her as they passed, and reflexively, N’Elemay crossed herself. Now there was no question in her mind whatsoever about their final victory. Nothing, not even Shaitan himself, could stand against such a powerful light.

  Invigorated by the encounter, N’Elemay left the safe house. Three trains, and three identity changes later, she had visited all of her potential targets. Her last stop proved to be everything that she had been hoping for, and she uttered up a silent prayer of thanks to Mother Mari.

  But as she watched the busy holiday crowds, the demon of doubt tried to rear its ugly head. These are just innocent women, it whispered. To kill them would be a sin.

  Trying not to listen to its clever lies, N’Elemay forcefully reminded herself of her mission and her commitment. Although the women around her seemed innocent, they were the enemy, even if they were too steeped in their own sins to realize it. They had willingly supported the same State that had brought her own people so much pain and death.

  And they would have to pay the price for their blind obedience to evil. This was God’s plan for them. To be sacrificed to his greater glory.

  Finding her strength once more, she continued with her task, evaluating her surroundings and borrowing on her training to spot its weaknesses. The waste receptacles scattered all around the main floor immediately offered up some attractive possibilities. Although quite a number of them were the type that could detect explosive devices, and even contain their blasts, many more were of the ‘dumb’ variety, having been put in place to service the increased holiday demand.

  These extra trash cans would remain for the duration of the season; they had been decorated to celebrate the event and it was highly unlikely that they would be removed before it ended.

  She also noted that none of the women around her, including the station staff, seemed to be paying much attention to what went into them. She took an image of one receptacle using the camera function of her psiever, and then walked on.

  Further in, on a nearby bench, she spotted someone’s carrypack, and after watching it for several minutes, she realized that no one from security was coming along to inspect it. This brought a deprecatory grin to her face. Clearly security had grown very lax. Even with the Daughters of Eve and the Bio Action Army attacking it, the Sisterhood was taking its safety for granted. They would pay for such arrogance.

  She took another image and considered what an unattended bag like this offered her--and immediately discovered the flaw. There was always the chance that a passerby, or someone from housekeeping, would pick up an abandoned carrypack and move it.

  She had to look elsewhere for what she needed, she realized.

  A few minutes later, she found it, and her plan solidified. It was as if an angel had come down from on high and whispered the ideas into her ears. Everything was clear now. Despite her moments of doubt, God had patiently shown her the way.

  ***

  While Ellen n’Elemay was busy formulating the details of her attack, the Redeemer and Shandra n’Aida were enjoying each other’s company. They clasped hands and shared a silent, mental communion that none of the humans around them could hear.

  How long has it been, sister? the Redeemer asked. Twenty millennia? More?

  At least, she answered. Too long.

  Angered by the intrusion of a Drow’voi scientific probe, the Great Mind of their home galaxy, Andromeda, had sent them forth to destroy the interlopers, right along with every other sentient being that infested the Milky Way. The Andromeda’s Great Mind had always hated its neighbor, and the Voices were the weapon that it had intended to use to eliminate its nemesis once and for all. But the Drow’voi had defeated Andromeda’s children by sacrificing their own lives, and the Voices had been forced into hibernation.

  Now, their time had come again and even though the Drow’voi were no more, Mikal and his counterpart still had every intention of carrying out their original mission. The Voices had long memories and no sense of forgiveness. That was something for lesser beings, not creatures of pure thought like themselves.

  I would keep you here with me, by my side, Mikal thought. But I cannot. The time has come for us to reawaken the Third and complete our mission.

  Good, the Voice within N’Aida returned. These hairless apes sicken me. I would see them eliminated, and have your company all to myself.

  Patience, sister, Mikal replied. There will be time enough for us, once this galaxy has been turned into a graveyard.

  N’Aida knew that he was right and offered no rebuttal. The mission came first. She released his hands and he turned from her to the Sisters who had been attending them.

  “I have been granted a great vision,” he announced. “God has shown me the way to defeat our enemies forever. The key to this is located on a world called Storm.” He beckoned to Sister n’Avenal.

  “Do you know this place?” he asked her.

  “Yes, Lord,” N’Avenal replied. “It is a remote world in the Sagana Elant.”

  “That is where Sister n’Aida will be going next. She will leave here tomorrow, and when she arrives on Storm, you will see to it that the Faithful make a place for her there.’

  “You will also send word to all True Believers to make ready to undertake a holy pilgrimage to that place. Sister n’Aida will meet them when they arrive, and she will guide them to what God has shown me.”

  “Lord,” N’Avenal began to say. “Is that wise? At this time? With the RSE hunting us--?”

  “God’s will must be done,” he declared, and as he did so, N’Avenal felt a pressure between her eyes. A second later, it was gone, right along with all of her objections.

  “God’s will must be done,” she repeated.

  The Redeemer smiled. “The path will be long and arduous, and I will tell you now that many will fall along the way. But one of them, whom God finds worthy, will be raised up by him to become my left hand just as Sister n’Aida is now my right. Together, we will go forth and smite down Shaitan and all of his accursed works.”

  The Sisters collectively crossed themselves. “God’s will must be done,” they chanted.

  That evening, they held mass and the Redeemer himself led the service. Shandra n’Aida had no interest in the ritual however. Instead, she watched Sister Janneta and observed her carefully. When she was certain of what she had sensed, she sent a message to the Redeemer using their special mind-speak.

  She is the one, she told him. I can feel it.

  I know. I have known for a long time. We will need to tell N’Avenal, he replied. She will know how to handle this properly.

  I still don’t understand why you are bothering with all this, brother, N’Aida thought back. What need have we of such silly maneuvers? Or this primitive religion for that matter?

  Resources, sister, he answered. These creatures actually believe in their illusions, and because of that, they will do anything for us, including sending shiploads of themselves to Storm. Keeping them, and their enemies, certain that our intentions are limited to a few small attacks, will ensure that none of them ever come to suspect our true intentions.

  And Ellen n’Elemay will be especially useful to us once the time comes to seize our objective. She will see to our safety and even lay down her very life if the need arises. All that loyalty like that requires is the right combination of words, and a few toys for these apes to play with. What harm can there be in providing that?

  Again, N’Aida could not argue with her sibling. His logic was flawless. As ridiculous and backwards as they were, she now understood why they needed the Marionites and why she didn’t need to worry over N’Elemay’s pathetic little program of terror. In the end, what they had in mind for the galaxy would make anything that she managed to accomplish seem like what it really was: mere child’s play. Anything, even this silliness, was worth that.

  She contacted N’Avenal. The Praepositus Generalis had long suspected the existence of a mole i
n their group, and although she was surprised by who it had turned out to be, N’Avenal accepted it, and relayed the information to N’Elemay immediately.

  It is Janneta, her message said. You know what to do--N’Avenal.

  ***

  N’Avenal’s revelation only served to confirm N’Elemay’s own instincts about Janneta. She didn’t have the powers that the Redeemer or Sister n’Aida possessed, but she had still sensed the woman’s duplicity.

  It hadn’t been any one detail that had alerted her to her treachery. Rather, it had been a collection of tiny betrayals that she had observed over time; the way that Janneta looked away from her at just the wrong moments, the strain in her voice when certain subjects came up, and small, but discernable hesitations.

  She also knew exactly what to do about her, and how to go about it.

  Later that evening, when the woman left to deliver a message to one of the other cells in the city, N’Elemay followed her. Just as she had expected, Janneta stopped in the middle of her journey and slipped into an alley. Halfway down its length, she pried open a loose brick, and furtively inserted something into the space behind it.

  This was all of the proof that N’Elemay required. When Janneta resealed the cache and began to rise, she stepped in and looped a wire garrote around her neck.

  Their struggle was a brief one. After only fifteen seconds, Janneta lapsed into unconsciousness and then death.

  Ignoring the stench of feces, N’Elemay waited a moment longer, and then opened the wire, releasing the corpse. As it flopped onto the ground, she lowered herself onto her knees and carefully searched the hiding place. When her fingers found the plastipaper note, she tucked it into her pocket, and moved off into the shadows. With their spy dead, the RSE would be as blind as everyone else to her plans, and just as unprepared.

  Sentos Antoniyo da Compasionya Cemetery, Nevanas District, Nuvo Bolivar, Magdala Provensa, Esteral Terrana Rapabla, 1048.10|19|00:83:33