The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4

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The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4 Page 67

by David Beers


  “Thanks,” she said as she passed the guard. A few feet away, she stopped and turned around. “Are you going to be able to watch the execution?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Sister.”

  Raylyn nodded, and though she knew she should have smiled, she simply couldn’t do it.

  Next, Raylyn went to Scoble, where nearly the exact same scene played out. The only difference being that Scoble said nothing at all.

  And then, with two prisoners floating to her right—laid out one above the other—Raylyn returned to her room. She said nothing as she walked, and glanced at no one she passed on the way. Her PD rank made it clear that whatever she was doing, most people wanted no part in it.

  Her door closed behind her, she righted the stretchers so that Scoble and Hollowborne’s feet faced the floor. Their necklaces lit green for a second, and then their jaws relaxed.

  “I can’t let you down. Not until it’s time. I don’t know how closely anything is being watched right now, but you two walking around wouldn’t help anything.”

  Scoble opened his jaw wide, then closed it, repeating the action a couple of times. Hollowborne only looked at her.

  “Where’s Christine?” Scoble asked. He couldn’t move his neck, so couldn’t turn to look at Hollowborne, but he spoke as if she wasn’t there at all.

  “We have to wait until after the execution.”

  “Why?” he said.

  “Have you seen her?”

  And Raylyn saw in his eyes that he had, that he knew exactly what condition she was in.

  “That’s why,” Raylyn said. “We can’t free him and protect her at the same time. We free Manor, then we get her.”

  “And then what?” Hollowborne asked.

  Scoble’s jaw flexed involuntarily, his teeth bearing down at the sound of her voice.

  “Then we do our best to get off this Shrine.”

  Raylyn’s eyes went to Scoble. In his cell, she’d seen someone thoughtful and devout. Now, his eyes showed only raw anger, his face barely containing it. He said nothing, none of the rage flowing into words—but it was there all the same.

  And what’s he going to do? Raylyn’s newly born part asked. What wrench is he going to throw in all this? Your planning is already lacking, but you haven’t even considered the hatred he must feel for the woman next to him. You haven’t thought about how that might change things.

  Raylyn turned from them.

  It was far too late for any of those considerations.

  Fifty-Three

  Most Holy, I am approaching.

  The High Priest heard the message, but he’d known the First Priest’s location for the past hour. The Disciple standing next to him was doing nothing besides tracking nanotechnology in the area. In the past hour, the amount of nanotech activity had grown exponentially, and while the High Priest now saw only one ship, he knew 100 more surrounded it.

  The barracks below now contained hundreds of Disciples. Cots sat inches from each other where they slept almost shoulder to shoulder.

  The Disciples were interesting creations. They were capable of incredible physical feats, but their mental efforts were even more amazing. Right now, none of them were moving, but rather they sat row after row on their cots with eyes closed. Each one of them was focusing on the approaching nanotechnology, ready to take hold of it the moment the High Priest gave the command.

  The High Priest had never really wondered what the First Council knew of the Disciples. They were rarely used, the need for them very small. To almost every Priest—including the High—they were afterthoughts. Things to be brought out in only the most desperate situations. The Council hadn’t thought through this recent decision, at least not with the mental rigor of the High Priest.

  They understood Disciples could control nanotech, but they hadn’t considered everything they brought with them possessed such. They were only thinking about themselves, and so these ships were supposed to be immune to the Disciples’ power.

  They would all soon find out that wasn’t true.

  The High Priest smiled at the thought.

  He stood in front of Nicki Sesam, and she was present this time. She hadn’t gone away, and he was thankful for it. He wanted to be with her for a few minutes before everything began.

  “The plan is perfect,” he said aloud, though it wasn’t clear whether he knew he had spoken.

  Two people were working around him, the box nearly complete. They were putting the final touches on it, or at least that’s how the High Priest thought of it. Truthfully, he didn’t know what they were doing, and didn’t really care as long as the end result was what he wanted.

  “It’s perfect …,” he said before trailing off.

  And it was. The First Priest would be here in less than a half hour. The High Priest would show him around the home as any proper host would, with the final showcase being Nicki. And then …

  Well, then they would turn it on.

  The High didn’t care what the ships outside did; his Disciples would make sure that nothing interfered.

  “Can you …,” he started, momentarily losing his train of thought. He found it quickly, and finished, “Can you loosen her mouth some? I’d like to speak with her.”

  “Yes, Most Holy.”

  The High heard movement behind him, but he didn’t turn from the face in front of him.

  He saw her lips open slightly and heard a small, dry gasp escape.

  “Are you ready?” he asked Nicki.

  Her mouth moved up and down, but only raspy would-be words came out.

  “Water. You need water, of course.”

  More movement and then a glass was placed in the High Priest’s hand. He tilted it up to her mouth and slowly let it drain over her lips. She drank, not greedily, but at the same pace he poured. She wasn’t dehydrated, only her vocal chords hadn’t been used or lubricated.

  “There,” he said, pulling the glass away. “Are you ready?”

  Nicki opened her mouth again, then whispered, “I think so.”

  It was lost on the High Priest, completely so, that Nicki Sesam should have had no idea what he was talking about. For days she had hung alone and without information. Kidnapped, and with no knowledge of what was happening around her. Yet, when asked the question, her answer had been in line with what the High wanted to hear, and so instead of growing concerned, he smiled.

  “Yes. Yes. I thought you would be.”

  But then again, it all made sense. This was Corinth’s plan. They would make contact with the Unformed and then he and Nicki could be together. Of course she would be ready. What else could she be? Corinth had seen it all, and in His glory, set these things in motion.

  “Good,” the High said. “Good.”

  He turned from the woman and looked at the two people still working. “How much longer?”

  “Just a few minutes. We can probably start any time you’d like.”

  “Okay. We’re waiting for a guest, and then we will.”

  The High Priest wandered off, ready to meet his First Priest.

  The First Priest’s ship was large, and thus it couldn’t fit into the smaller docks beneath the building. It instead docked on the side.

  The First Priest was still in the middle of the ship, occupying the same room with the Priestess.

  This was turning into a mess, and quickly, yet for all the First Priest’s scheming, he couldn’t figure a way out of it. Two new people had been thrown into it, the woman’s father and some Old World worker. He didn’t know what in the hell they were planning—no one did. Moreover, no one else even cared because they didn’t have to. They weren’t going to be inside with those two strangers.

  No, everyone from the Pope to the One Path’s Minister would be watching from outside. Including this damned Priestess. They didn’t care what happened inside, so long as the girl wasn’t thrust in front of the Black. Why didn’t they care? Easy enough, because they could simply blast the whole thing away the moment it o
ccurred. Everyone inside would simply die, and everyone outside would simply live. Things were simple, at least to everyone on the ships.

  “Are you okay?” the Priestess asked.

  The First hadn’t noticed he wasn’t moving. The ship had docked, everyone inside rocking slightly forward as it came to a full stop. The First Priest had about a tenth of a Corinthmeter to walk before he exited the ship, yet he was only standing there, staring out the window at the massive house before him.

  “I’m fine,” he said, but still he didn’t move.

  “What’s happening?” a voice spoke from above.

  It was Trinant One, a nearly indescribable bitch. She’d been irascible ever since finding out the True Faith’s High Priest occupied part of her territory—unable to come to grasps with the fact that her Ministry was a fraud, and she incompetent.

  “Nothing,” the First Priest said. “Everything is fine.”

  “Then why aren’t you exiting the ship? What’s taking so long?”

  The First Priest said nothing in response, only turned and looked at the Priestess.

  “You make sure I get off that structure alive, okay? I’ll do everything possible to stop him, but it’s your job to make sure I get off alive.”

  The Priestess looked at him for a second, her face showing no emotion. A green light on the screen behind her went dim, and the First understood she’d told her nano to stop broadcasting messages. They were alone now—just the two of them in this room.

  “Do you really believe that’s what my goal is here?” she said. “To make sure you keep living?”

  The First Priest stared uncomprehendingly for a second, his brain refusing to compute the words she just said. They did eventually sink in, however.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “I’m honestly asking, do you think I’m here to make sure you live? I follow Corinth and His will. Your life only matters to me in that it still matters to Corinth, as all His followers do. Other than that, though, you’re just a bit part in this, and you don’t even know it.”

  “Huh?” he asked stupidly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said with a sad smile. “Your High Priest awaits, my First. If you want to live, keep that machine from turning on. Otherwise, I will meet you in Corinth’s Embrace, though it may take me some time to arrive.”

  He was hearing everything correctly, though he could hardly believe it.

  What did you think, First Priest? his mind wondered. That you were the only one with plans? That this Priestess and the rest of the First Council were only here to serve Corinth? They’ve all had plans, and now you’re the one walking off this ship and heading to meet with the High, while she sits back here with weapons pointed right at you.

  He opened his mouth to call her a bitch, a fucking bitch, but no words came out. Because what could he really say right now? All he could hope to do was stop the High and then come back here and make her pay. That was it. The only play he had left.

  The First Priest shut his mouth, his teeth snapping together audibly. He turned and started walking across the ship, the green light turning on behind him as he did.

  “I’m heading in,” he told those listening around the world.

  “May God be with you,” the Pope said back.

  No one else spoke and the First Priest was glad for it.

  He made his way across the ship quickly enough, slowing momentarily at the first sight of the High Priest. He stood just beyond the open bay door, his robes still against his body.

  The First Priest picked his pace up and crossed from his ship to the High Priest’s home.

  “We give thanks,” he said, glancing down.

  “We give thanks,” the High said, his eyes holding steady on the First.

  The bay door shut behind him with a whoosh of air, causing his robes to billow toward the High.

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances, Most Holy,” the First said. He didn’t know exactly what the Priestess was doing back on the ship, only what she should be doing: listening as closely as possible with her nanotech and telling the Ministers what was happening.

  She might just blast the whole place, though.

  Would be easier. Would suit her wishes, which was clearly to become the High Priestess. She serves Corinth like the man in front of me does.

  “It’s quite all right,” the High said. “I’m actually happy you’re here, as I want to show you what I’ve been working on. I truly think it’s going to be a blessing for the entire True Faith.”

  He turned slowly and motioned for the First to step up next to him. The First obeyed and the two started walking.

  “The message you received was sent by a panicked, and truthfully, overworked young man. I will take the blame for that,” the High Priest said, “just as you took the blame for breaking Corinth’s Proclamation.”

  Silence fell between the two for a second, the High’s words simply hanging in the air.

  “You see, what I’m building here was directed by Corinth. It’s within His Blessing, and that’s why I know the young man’s fears are unfounded.”

  “Yes, my High Priest. What is it that you’re building?”

  They turned left down a hallway, one slanted slightly downward. The First Priest saw no one else as they walked, no Disciples, none of these workers that were supposed to be here either.

  “How does Corinth speak to you?” the High asked.

  The First didn’t like the way he sounded. It was … too happy. The distance he usually felt with the High was missing.

  “He speaks through His writings.”

  “But when you pray to Him. How does He tell you what He wants?”

  The First Priest was quiet for a moment. These were questions children asked, not those in the Priestly class.

  “I suppose it’s a feeling I get,” he finally answered.

  “Yes, that’s what I thought,” the High said as they rounded a corner. “It was Corinth who first told me keeping this girl was the right thing to do, and then it was He who told me what had to be done with her.”

  “Corinth?” the First asked.

  “Yes … Here we are.”

  The two had descended into the belly of the house and now stood in front of two large black doors.

  The High’s eyes lit for a moment and the doors split open in the middle, sliding into the walls and revealing a long, long room.

  With …

  Dear Corinth, the First Priest thought. Dear, dear Corinth.

  Rows and rows of Disciples sat in front of the First Priest, their eyes blazing green. All stared straight forward, and the First understood that not a single one saw him at all.

  “He told me to bring them here,” the High said. “Corinth did, I mean.”

  “Whuh-Why?” the First stammered out.

  “For protection.”

  “What are they doing?” the First asked, trying to regain control of himself. He might not understand everything about Disciples, but he knew what those green eyes meant. They were doing something with nanotechnology.

  “They’re helping with the construction upstairs,” the High answered.

  “All of them?”

  “What else would they be doing?” the High asked.

  The First shook his head. “I don’t know, Most Holy.” His words came out in a whisper; the First didn’t like any of this. Not the massive building nor the belly full of Disciples, all of them doing something for the High Priest that the First didn’t understand.

  How much of this is the Priestess getting? he wondered. Enough to make a decision that she needs to destroy the place?

  The worry flashed through his head, and with tremendous effort, he threw it from himself. His nanotech was relaying much of what he heard and saw to her, passively and automatically … but he didn’t want that thought getting mixed in.

  “Can we see the construction, Most Holy? I would like to be done with this as soon as possible.
If Corinth himself gave you this assignment, it’s a waste of time for me to be here monitoring it.”

  “Yes, let’s go upstairs and you can see for yourself.”

  The two turned and started back up the winding ramps.

  “Still,” the psychopath whispered. “Be still and don’t move.”

  He and Daniel stood at the end of a hallway. They’d been inside the building for close to an hour, most of the time spent just like now—standing still and waiting. Daniel had said nothing since entering, only listened to the psychopath’s instructions.

  He hadn’t seen or heard anything each time they stopped and waited, but the psychopath said to do it, so they did.

  Daniel saw only hallways, no rooms, and the halls criss-crossed each other in a wild maze that he wasn’t sure he could figure out on his own. The hallways were all on an incline, and the two had been slowly moving up through the ship (Daniel’s mind kept referring to it as that, refusing to fully see it as a house).

  “Quiet,” the psychopath said, though Daniel hadn’t made a sound.

  And then, he finally heard something.

  Footsteps. Distant and coming from the crossing hallway.

  The psychopath dropped his left hand to his side, opened it, and motioned for Daniel to move back. They both began walking backwards down the hall, Daniel doing his best to match the psychopath’s pace.

  “Quicker,” he said harshly, and Daniel knew why—the footsteps ahead were getting louder.

  Daniel picked up the speed, doing his absolute best to keep his feet from echoing.

  And just as he saw a black shoe almost completely covered with black robes breaking the hallway plane, Daniel and the psychopath disappeared from view.

  They dropped back into the far hallway.

  Daniel heard the other two people speaking, though he couldn’t make out what they said. He was completely silent until he heard nothing else, not on their hallway nor any other.

 

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