by David Beers
The time was nearly here, and Rhett felt it.
He smiled as he watched this false Prophet step into the transport, knowing her death was near.
Thirty-Two
Raylyn knew the First Priest flew above her and Manor in his own transport. Most likely, there was a drone above that, too—still watching Raylyn. Still listening. The First Priest was 1,000 feet higher, though if she looked up she wouldn’t be able to see him. He flew above them all, the new armada soaring through the skies to battle someone who had killed indiscriminately last time they met.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said to Manor. “It was wrong to invite you.”
Raylyn felt real guilt for bringing him along. There were safeguards in place to keep him from being harmed, but she knew she shouldn’t have even asked. The word selfish didn’t begin to describe such an action, and now she could do nothing but live with it.
“We’ll be fine,” he said sitting next to her in their transport. “Corinth is with us. He’s not going to let ….” He looked over at her, an eyebrow raised, and a slight smirk on his face. “Am I allowed to say it now, ‘the Black’? Or am I going to be detained?”
“Hush,” she said, trying not to smile. Terror rippled constantly just beneath Raylyn’s consciousness, ready to rush forward. She had seen Hollowborne up close, watched him kill without remorse. And she was going to him again—flying right toward him. She would take any respite from that horror, even a brief joke from Manor.
“Corinth won’t let the weapon win,” he said. “We’ll be safe. Now, tell me, what is the plan once we get there?”
Raylyn’s transport flew at the back of the armada, as did the First Priest’s. They had brought everything remaining within the True Faith: a thousand transports, and another 500 drones, which flew nearly at the edge of Earth’s atmosphere.
Raylyn probably shouldn’t say anything to him, but at this point, what did it matter? “We’re going to follow the Disciple inside the One Path, and when Hollowborne attacks, we’ll ambush him.”
“So, let’s say my faith is strong,” Manor said, “but let’s also say I’m a bit wary given what happened last time. Are we planning on doing the exact same thing? Simply showing up and trying to blast him out of the sky?”
Raylyn shook her head as she stared out the window.
“The transports we’ll use this time are different than the ones we used at the compound. We were trying to show strength before. This time we don’t want to show anything. Right now, right in front of you, are 1,000 transports. They’re reflecting the outside world. You can’t see them, and if anyone were to look up, they wouldn’t see us, but only the sky. It would take high powered telescopes with infrared capabilities to actually see us, and only then if they studied the sky for quite some time. The technology is practically undetectable.”
Manor was staring out the window.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, as if he’d forgotten his question completely. He wasn’t talking about future plans or transports. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Raylyn couldn’t blame him for changing the subject without warning. She found herself obsessed with the sky—even after being inside the transport for hours. She couldn’t get enough of it, or the water below. They’d flown west over the True Faith, and hit the ocean 30 minutes ago. Blue water covered everything beneath them, and the sky above was finally clearing from the deadly nuclear explosions, allowing Raylyn to see both.
Raylyn could only nod at Manor’s comment. She couldn’t find anything to say. Not about the war, not about the weapon. She stared at the sky stolen from the True Faith all those years ago. A birthright for all humans, stripped from Corinth’s followers, while everyone else in the world took it for granted.
“I can’t believe they robbed it from us,” she said.
“From who?”
She looked over at him. “From the True Faith? The rest of Earth can look up on any day and see this.”
He nodded, not turning to her. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just so beautiful.”
She looked at him for another second, then turned her eyes back to the sky. A few minutes passed in silence, and then she said, “I can think of something maybe more beautiful.”
He did turn then, hearing her sultriness. “What’s that?”
“Making love underneath it?”
And so they did, with a thousand ships in front of them, they made love underneath the blue sky for the first time in their lives.
Raylyn slept next to Manor, her chest slowly moving up and down, her mouth slightly open. He had stared at her for some time after making love, unable to pull his eyes away. Even with the sky above him—something that he hadn’t seen before and wasn’t guaranteed to see tomorrow—he kept looking at her.
You’re falling, he thought.
And then, Don’t be stupid. You’ve already fallen. You’re not making love under the clouds for the Prophet’s benefit.
He rolled over on his back at that, breaking his view of her. He stared up into the sky, unable to see the ship above him, but knowing it was there.
The First Priest’s.
Manor thought it delicious that he’d fucked in such close proximity to the True Faith’s leader. A brief feeling of guilt lay on him at that, but he dismissed it quickly. He could both enjoy his time with Raylyn, and like spitting on the True Faith at the same time.
This isn’t about her or the rest of them.
He wished he could lay here with her forever, but knew he couldn’t. Nothing in this world was simple any longer, and loving Raylyn didn’t rid him of his duties. Loving her only added to the complexity. He came to her for one reason: to help further the Summoning. He might love her, but his loyalty lay with the Unformed, and he wouldn’t forget it.
But this ship? No one knew he was here. He hadn’t had time to pass the information back, especially not in Corinth’s Shrine. He was alone and without any true knowledge of what was to come. Only that he was among transports en route to kill the man he worshipped. Above all else, that couldn’t happen.
Manor could have fallen asleep, but dreams waited for him that he didn’t want to see. It turned out, regardless the purity behind awful deeds, the mind didn’t simply shut them off. The dead didn’t die just because you killed them. They kept living, only now in your head. If he shut his eyes for too long, he’d see ragged body parts and decapitated heads. The heads would stare back at him, their eyes unblinking and their stares unfazed. He’d done it for the Prophet, and he would do it again and again if needed, but Manor understood you didn’t leave war behind. You brought it with you, wherever you went.
So instead of sleeping, Manor considered his position.
David had to survive; if he didn’t, then all of Manor’s actions were for naught. David’s survival ensured they died for a reason. The Union. The Unformed. The future, one which was real.
Manor had to send a message, even if it meant he was caught. He might die doing it, but if he died serving the Prophet … what higher honor was there?
He didn’t close his eyes to send the message, but looked over at Raylyn. He wasn’t admiring her beauty this time, but monitoring her. He wanted to see if she changed at all, whether naturally or from a message above—a drone monitoring him and catching his thoughts.
She was at peace, so if anything was listening, it hadn’t alerted her yet.
Is anyone there?
He sent the message wide, hoping someone presiding over his home city would hear it. He hadn’t stretched his nanotech over such a wide distance before, although he knew it didn’t matter. Nanotechnology didn’t rely on proximity.
Yes. It’s Kaymcin. This is Manor Reinhold?
He knew the woman, though not well.
Do not contact again. It’s too dangerous. I’m en route to engage the Prophet with a force of over 1,000 ships. He won’t see them coming; they’re camouflaged. We’re heading to the One Path.
Only silence
met his message, the line capable but dead. His people had heard what he said, and he had to hope they were the only ones.
They wouldn’t contact him, just as he asked. The Prophet’s safety was in their hands now. He was alone again, staring at the woman he loved—her eyes still closed and her breathing the same as it had been seconds before.
Manor didn’t close his own eyes or try to sleep. He only watched Raylyn and wondered if she might somehow escape what was coming. Perhaps she could take the Touched’s Blood. Perhaps she could follow the Prophet as well.
The First Priest had listened as the two below him made love, though he took no real pleasure in it. He listened out of necessity … because at this point, the First Priest knew only a few things with certainty. The most important fact was that the High Priest had forsaken him, and he was being sent to die. A close second in importance was that he, the First Priest, wanted to live more than he had ever wanted anything else in this life. The third thing he now knew—though he hadn’t been completely positive until moments ago—was that the man beneath him served the Black.
The First Priest flew above the two lovers, but above him flew the same drone that had followed Raylyn Brinson since she first discovered the weapon’s existence. The populace thought drones could read thoughts, but that wasn’t exactly true. It definitely listened to conversations, but that wasn’t very advanced. The drone couldn’t fully read thoughts, but it could make intelligent guesses. It used a combination of actions, conversations, and masked nano information to form probabilistic theories as to what someone was thinking … Most of the time, it turned out to be correct.
In front of the First Priest was a screen, displaying a digital landscape. The answer he’d been seeking lay plastered across it.
The First Priest had asked the drone a single question when it first started following Manor Reinhold: Does he follow the weapon?
The drone had been hovering over Manor for the past 48 hours, from the moment the transport picked him up and brought him to Corinth’s Shrine.
It finally had an answer, and the First Priest read the message almost not believing his fortune. So many things had gone wrong lately, all of them piling up one after the other. He wasn’t even considering the weapon in these personal disasters, nor the Black—they were beyond his ability to deal with at the moment. No, the First Priest was concerned with his own life, and would only deal with the Black once he secured his continued existence.
82% probability Manor Reinhold is involved with the Black.
Not precisely the question the First Priest had asked, but close enough.
The First let the screen dissipate into the air. He wasn’t worried about what Raylyn had told the man earlier. She didn’t have the first clue about what was happening around her. She knew what she’d been told, but none of it really meant anything—at least not yet. From the moment she started telling the First Priest to do something, especially with bringing this Manor character on board, she guaranteed that she would know nothing of value.
The First Priest was traveling to the weapon’s expected destination, because that’s what he’d been commanded to do. The First, though, hadn’t yet decided his course of action. Ships were floating in front of him, all invisible to the naked eye, but that didn’t mean they would be used in the way Brinson told her lover.
It didn’t mean they had to be used at all.
Or, perhaps, they could be used in a very different manner. Because the High Priest lived inside the One Path now (an insane notion, to say the least). And it was he who wanted the First dead.
The First Priest was flying with the True Faith’s largest army, its only army, and he could either direct it at the weapon … or, he could use it against the man issuing the First’s death warrant.
Manor Reinhold might have actually just saved the First Priest’s life. When the First left the True Faith, he thought he would have to go fight the weapon—killing him was the only path to a pardon. If he managed to kill the weapon, perhaps the High would spare his life. Now, though, the First had a follower of the Black, and his lover.
Why not turn this armada only slightly, and head to where the High Priest rested his head? Why not end that crazy old man’s life, and then use the follower, the lover, and the informant to kill the weapon?
If the First Priest wanted to live above all else, and secondly, wanted to save the world, didn’t that make the most sense?
He closed his eyes and leaned deep into his chair. Not quite horizontal, but close. For the first time in days, the First Priest thought there might be a way to salvage everything. His own life. The world. And it all hinged only on causing pain to a few people who deserved it anyway.
Thirty-Three
Rebecca?
The message came from Christine, through Rebecca’s nanotech.
I’m here.
We’ve received information. It’s credible. The True Faith is planning another attempt on David’s life.
Rebecca tried to control her face. She wanted to show no emotion. She still sat next to David, and would for the next hour until they landed. She didn’t know if he was looking at her, but if so, she wouldn’t let him see any changes.
Tell me, she said back to Christine.
They’re sending another armada. This one is camouflaged. There’s over 1,000 transports.
Anything else? Rebecca asked.
We don’t have anything else yet.
Do you know when? Rebecca asked.
No. That is literally all we know. They’re going to attack and the transports are camouflaged.
How do you find this out? She was careful to keep her nanotech calm, even—she was simply asking a question.
There’s a leak somewhere. It’s hard to say exactly where, though. There’s a lot of moving pieces, but the information flowed back up. You have to tell David.
Of course. I will.
Okay, Christine said. Let me know if you need anything else, alright? I’ll send more information as we get it. When are you supposed to arrive?’
Another hour, I think.
Good. You have the information regarding where you’re staying?
Yeah, we have it. Thanks, Rebecca said.
No problem.
Rebecca felt the connection close, her nanotech alone again. She didn’t look over at David, but kept staring out the window to her right. He was awake now, not asleep as he’d been when the True Faith had contacted her. Different conversations from different sides, all while she rode beside her brother. Rebecca continually doing her best to not let him see, to hide the conversations.
Do you even recognize yourself?
Their transports had slowed down over the past few hours, moving carefully beneath the One Path’s territory. Much of it was controlled by David’s followers now, but even so, a strange transport could be shot out of the sky by friendly fire, or by the Ministry’s remaining defenses.
Another hour, though, and they would be free of the transport. Then, David would begin preparing for the woman.
You have to tell David, Christine had said.
It wouldn’t happen. Rebecca found no glee in that knowledge, only a sick determination—something that made her stomach turn while knowing she couldn’t avoid its truth.
There was a leak, though, and on the True Faith’s side.
Rebecca, still looking out the window, had no idea how to address it. Should she contact this Raylyn woman again? Maybe, but not now. Not with David right next to her.
“What’s wrong?”
The question cracked through her thoughts like a pick through ice, sending flecks flying into dark corners of her mind. Even though she’d tried concealing her face, hadn’t moved at all, David’s question still hung inside the transport, waiting for an answer.
“Huh?” Rebecca said, turning to look at her brother.
Remember, Christine can’t contact him. Only you. He doesn’t know. He can’t.
Yet, that wasn’t true, was it? Because David alway
s knew. He was the Prophet, regardless of what side Rebecca had chosen.
“Something’s bothering you. I can feel it. What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, knowing that wouldn’t suffice even as she spoke the word. “Just thinking about Rhett. Worrying about him.”
He looked at her for a second longer, then nodded. He looked back out his side just as the transport turned upward.
“We’re here,” he said.
And the clouds above grew closer as their ship ascended into the One Path.
David’s transport pulled up into the building, moving through the bottom as was typical inside the One Path. The transport’s doors opened on both sides, and David walked out onto the house’s transport platform.
The flight up would have been harrowing, if David had paid attention to it. He saw fires burning across the sky, black smoke billowing up to space. No ‘capsules’ carried anyone anywhere. The skies were empty except for the transport carrying him and Rebecca, and though he saw no one, he knew people watched him.
David paid just enough attention to recognize possible attacks—a real threat given the state of things—but other than that, he hadn’t cared.
He was concerned with his sister.
The transport’s doors closed. It was too tall to see over the top, but he looked through the glass walls and saw Rebecca on the other side.
“It’s a great honor.”
David looked in front of him and saw a short man standing there and what appeared to be his short wife standing next to him.
“We’re just so happy to have you,” she said.
David nodded. He felt their blood now that he was focusing on them, though he should have noticed the moment he stepped from the transport. He was too focused on Rebecca’s brief conversation.
“Thank you for having us,” his sister said in the silence that he should have filled, but hadn’t.
“Come, come,” the man said, breaking from his wife and moving toward David. The woman went the other way, the transport’s platform in the shape of a rectangle.
