“Nothing,” Halaini replied, now appearing defensive for the first time. She hesitated, then, “They have also asked where the rest of our people have gone. And, to be honest, Sister Superior, I have been wondering that same thing myself. The Church grounds appear far more deserted than I was expecting, and—”
“Silence,” the bigger woman barked. “Such information is not to be shared freely with infidels who—”
“Infidels?” I stepped forward. “We—”
I was interrupted by a high-pitched whining sound that rapidly escalated in volume and intensity. It seemed instantly familiar to me, though I couldn’t say how or why. The two women looked at one another again, clearly puzzled. I glanced over at the sergeant; he was working the controls on his sensor device but shaking his head to indicate he couldn’t tell what was happening.
Then I remembered precisely where I’d heard it before.
Stepping forward, my eyes flicked from the golden symbol dangling from the Sister Superior’s neck to the one worn by Sister Halaini.
That one. The red jewel at its center glowed like a tiny star. And the whining sound had become almost intolerable.
Reaching out, I snatched the symbol from Halaini’s neck and hurled it across the broad, smooth, gray-streaked marble floor of the cathedral’s front patio area. The golden star skidded to a halt, the jewel now almost blindingly bright.
“Wha—how dare you—?” Halaini was saying, outrage filling her voice.
The golden symbol exploded, flames flashing out in a two-meter radius.
We all covered our eyes and some stumbled back.
A second later, it was done. The golden insignia was gone and only a large black smear remained on the marble flooring where it had lain. Smoke swirled lazily above the spot.
Sister Halaini gawked, first at the spot, then at me. After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, she found her voice. “How—how could you possibly have known that was going to happen?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve seen it,” I said. “In fact, it’s the reason I’m here.”
She blinked back at me but had nothing to say. Her eyes kept flicking over to the black smudge on the marble and she swallowed with some difficulty.
The Sister Superior recovered and moved forward, stepping between us. Her expression had transformed from one of shock to anger and I quickly gathered that she had concluded it was all some elaborate trick of mine.
“You are fooling no one,” she growled, her ice-blue eyes drilling into mine. “You are trespassers and heretics and I want you off the grounds of the Church immediately!”
I started to answer her one way, then changed my mind and instead merely said, “Or else what?”
The eyes flared brighter. “Or else... I will summon our security forces and have you all arrested. Or worse.”
“By all means, do so, lady,” I said with an overly affected polite smile. “Summon away. I’d love to have a talk with your security forces. Or your administration. Or, for that matter, another corinda or corindar.” I leaned in toward her, my voice dropping but intensifying. “Because, to be honest, sister, you and your friend here are the only human beings we have encountered since passing through your gate.”
She opened and closed her mouth, blinking rapidly. Turning suddenly, she looked back at the big cathedral building that towered behind us.
“Tell me the truth for a change, sister,” I said to her. “Where has everyone gone?” I paused. “Or—do you not even know yourself?”
She turned back to face me and now her expression of haughty defiance had melted away, replaced by a confusion very similar to the look worn by her subordinate. She started to say something, but the high-pitched wail returned.
She looked down at the golden insignia that hung before her breasts, then up at me. Her brows were knitted.
“It must be some trick of mine,” I said, reminding her of her words to me mere seconds before. “So that means there’s no point in taking it off. You’re perfectly safe.”
The whining noise rose into the extremely uncomfortable range and a bright light began to flare from the stone set into her insignia. She was staring back at me, now wearing an expression that I found completely inscrutable.
I smiled. “That’s it,” I said, “just keep doing nothing. You’ll prove me a fraud any second now.”
“Sister Superior!” wailed Halaini. “Please!”
The sound was deafening.
Furiously, the corinda grasped the chain about her neck, whipped it over her head, and hurled it across the open space. It landed only a short distance from where the first had hit the marble, but by then it was already flaring like a tiny sun, flames jetting out in every direction. By the time it landed, it was a blackened husk that crumbled to dust as it hit.
She looked from the second, newer black spot to me and snarled.
“You’re welcome,” I said with a slight bow. “Now—as for the others you were going to call for us?”
At that precise moment, others did actually arrive—though not the type that either she or I would likely have preferred. Instead of fussy bureaucrats or spit-and-polish soldiers, the figures that rushed out as a side door swung wildly open wore cloaks and hoods, very much like the corindas, but they carried exotic items that very quickly revealed themselves to be weapons. Slugs and streaks of hard light erupted from the attackers and came our way, and I barely managed to pull the sister superior down before she could be riddled with bullets and laser holes. As we hit the hard flooring, I noted from the corner of my eye that the sergeant of my Rangers had done the same with Sister Halaini.
I tried to pull the two women to cover but there was none to seek. We were exposed out there on the marble patio area before the cathedral. Our only hope was that enough of the Rangers were still close by.
They were. They hit back immediately. Gunfire rang out from both directions—unfortunately, with the two women and myself stuck in the crossfire. As we lay there, trying to put ourselves on as intimate terms as possible with the floor, I counted some dozen of the robed attackers. I had my handgun out and wanted to shoot, but I was concerned that I would only succeed in drawing their fire in our direction and getting the two women—to say nothing of myself—killed. So instead I shouted orders to the sergeant, who was also pinned down nearby, and he in turn relayed them on to the others.
The robed attackers quickly concealed themselves behind the massive stone base of an equestrian statue that stood a couple dozen meters from us, and from there they traded gunfire with the Rangers. For their part, my men were blasting away, blowing gaping chunks of stone and decoration off the front facade of the cathedral and various limbs off the statue. But they couldn’t quite get an angle on the bad guys themselves.
I had just about made up my mind to take to my feet and rush them from the side—likely a suicidal gesture at best—when a roaring sound came over us. I followed it with my eyes just as a wall of wind swept in, buffeting us. It was the troop transport. The pilot had lifted off and was swinging it in toward us. I grinned; I knew what that meant.
“Surrender now,” came the voice of one of the Ranger officers on board, amplified over the vessel’s external address system. “Surrender or we will kill you all.”
“I hope not,” I shouted above the roar of the transport’s vectored thrust, for anyone who cared to hear. “I’d like to question somebody else before we’re done here—and these guys seem to know more than our ladies do.”
The robed attackers continued to fire back, undeterred by the warning. This lasted for perhaps four more seconds, and then the ship’s main anti-personnel cannon erupted.
High-caliber slugs slashed into the stone statue base, shattering it into clouds of dust. A second later, the ship’s fire lashed into the enemy soldiers, cutting them in half. There’s no telling how much longer the carnage would’ve gone on but, as it happened, the question became academic.
They must have all been wearing those same gold
en insignia. The combined whine was deafening. The flash was blinding.
“Hold your fire,” I shouted, climbing to my feet and running toward their former position. I knew precisely what I’d find, but I was hoping against hope that at least one of them hadn’t burned up yet.
No such luck. They were all gone. Utterly incinerated. The space behind the statue base was a vast black smear, still cooling, smoke swirling above it.
I cursed.
The two women raced up behind me, took one look, and turned away.
I had nothing to say. There was no way the sister superior was going to try to blame my men for what had just occurred. Much as the two corinda didn’t want to admit it, the true cause of what was happening here was all too obvious now. It was the Church, not we strange invaders, that was killing—or attempting to kill—its own representatives.
“So, what will you do now?” the sister superior asked once order had reasserted itself and her junior companion had settled down. “As you can see, there is no one else left here.”
“You really do not know where they have gone?”
“I do not,” she said. “I was in my office for the past two hours, working. No one said a word to me about an evacuation, and I heard no alarms.”
“Nor did I,” added Sister Halaini.
I nodded. It appeared our fugitives had made good their escape—but they’d inadvertently led us into a bigger mystery.
“Sergeant,” I yelled, “have your troops take one last look around, see if they find anything suspicious.”
He came up to me, looking puzzled.
“Suspicious, sir?”
I shrugged.
“More enemy agents… assassins... hidden bombs… you know, anything out of place.”
I glanced at the two corinda.
“Those things would be out of place here, wouldn’t they?”
Each of them glared at me but said nothing.
The search proved as fruitless as I’d expected. I was mulling over the possibility of continuing it when the decision was taken from my hands. The comm link built into my belt beeped in my earpiece, and I keyed it open. It was the copilot of my shuttle.
“My lord,” he said, his voice nervous, “I’m getting reports of three Verghasite destroyers coming this way, fast. They just passed through the gateway from Majondra. We might want to make ourselves scarce, just in case. It could get hot here in a bit.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me.
“Do you have them on the sensors yet?”
“Not yet, my lord,” he said.
“Alright. I’m wrapping things up here now. I’ll be out there shortly.”
I cut the link and called to the sergeant.
“Go ahead and get the men back out to your ship,” I told him. “There may be trouble on the way.”
“We like trouble,” he replied, grinning, but he turned and issued the orders to withdraw from the facility.
“What is it? What’s wrong now?”
I looked around and realized that the sister superior still stood nearby. She had her hands on her hips, frowning.
“You two might want to clear out,” I told her. “There are enemy ships coming this way.”
“Enemy? We have no enemies, save the Church’s enemies,” Halaini said almost automatically.
“You can tell the Verghasites that while they’re looting the building and cutting your throat,” I said, starting for the shuttle.
Halaini gasped. “They—they will do that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But if you remain here you will surely find out the hard way.”
I was partway across the grassy lawn now. Rangers moved past me, tromping to where their own ship was now parked, much closer to the cathedral. The sergeant barked impatient orders to the few still inside the building.
“You’re giving up, then?” the dark-haired woman called after me. “First sign of trouble and you and your soldiers bolt?”
“You no longer want to find these people you say were complicit in your father’s murder?” the other one added.
I scowled and came up short. Turning back, I faced the two women; they had been hurrying along in my wake. Now they stopped, too, appearing startled, and we confronted one another there on the lawn of the cathedral.
I actually paused and considered what the two of them were saying. I mean, the sister superior was grossly and unfairly exaggerating the situation in specifics, but in general, she had a point. I was leaving, and leaving without any answers.
I groaned in the back of my throat, frustrated, because I didn’t feel I had any choice in the matter. Had it only been me and perhaps the Rangers on the line, I’d have stuck it out. After all, if I abandoned the search here, I might never find the people who had been aboard Jeras’s ship. But it wasn’t just the Rangers and me. There was also the Marata up there in orbit, waiting on us. The ship I’d commandeered and thus placed in the line of fire here. I owed something to all those men and women, too.
Cursing, I issued the final recall order.
“Then you must take us with you,” the sister superior said when I was done.
“Take you with us?” I was incredulous. “I thought you hated us. Infidels, remember? Barbarian invaders.”
“The situation has changed,” the dark-haired woman said. “Our own Church has tried—more than once now—to kill us. I find I have no choice but to admit that. Meanwhile, you and your ship have been delivered to us.”
“Delivered to you? That’s not exactly how I would characterize—”
Her ice-blue eyes twinkled as she ignored me and kept going. “You are here, and in a position to be of service. I am therefore fully prepared to retract the things I have said about you.”
“You haven’t said that many things about me, honestly,” I noted.
“Well...” She paused, and the eyes twinkled again. “I definitely thought them, at least. But I’ll take them all back—if you’ll take us off this world.”
How could I refuse an offer like that? I bestowed upon both ladies my most ingratiating smile and bowed. “But of course. You are welcome to come along.” I thought for a moment, then added, “I may have lost my leads that brought me here, but perhaps you two will recall something that will help—given time, of course, and the comforts of guest berths aboard the Marata.”
“My lord, we must depart now,” the sergeant called to me.
I nodded. “Off we go,” I said, gesturing toward the shuttle.
The two corinda raced through the grass toward my ship. The Rangers clambered aboard their own transport. Engines roared to life. Thirty seconds later, we were all airborne and headed back up to Sarmata orbit.
“Where are we going?” the sister superior asked once we had docked with the Marata and I had personally led them to their quarters.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I attempted to point out—but the sentiment did not go over well with my two new guests. So I followed that with, “The family estate on Victoria.”
The two women took this in and nodded.
“You’ll like my family,” I added with a wink before I left them alone in their new cabin for a time. “They’re just about as murderous, lying and duplicitous as your Church.”
I shut the door behind myself before they had the chance to find anything heavy that they could throw.
THREE
It occurs to me that perhaps I should pause here and explain to you, as we stand on the edge of infinity and stare out at the great cosmic rupture and the energies pouring forth from some other unimaginable realm, that I am no great wordsmith. I am no poet, certainly no scholar—save in perhaps the martial and military arts, at least by training if not by preference. My strengths lie in those years of training, in my strategic and tactical knowledge, and in my good right arm. If you’re desirous of some lyrical account of what transpired, I recommend that you look elsewhere, for that is not something I can supply. All I can tell you is what I said, what I did and what
I witnessed; what brought me and those around me to this place and this time, here on the edge of infinity.
So now, as the Fountain gurgles and hisses and erupts behind me, and I gaze out at this universe not my own, and as I feel my old identity and my old memories and my old self slipping away and being replaced by something...newer? Larger? Perhaps—only perhaps—greater? I make this and only this promise to you: I will speak truth. Artistic or no, I cannot say. But this is what happened; that much is certain. That is what I will tell you.
So we took our leave of Sarmata with our two new passengers in tow, and I was of two minds about the wisdom of bringing them along. My need for information—for any possible leads, now that all others had dried up—prevailed, and thus they came with us. The voyage back up to and through the Sarmata Gate was uneventful, though we did suffer a few close calls once we passed through to the Majondra side, where the battle between the forces commanded by my uncles and the fleets of Verghas yet raged, if in somewhat reduced state for the moment. Soon enough, however, we arrived in low orbit around the Victoria moon and I, along with the two corinda and a couple of Rangers serving as personal guards, boarded the shuttle for the trip down.
The family palace—the one on Victoria, not the much grander one down on Majondra itself—was a somewhat impressive structure, even by the standards of the wealthiest and most powerful members of our society. It had been originally constructed at least four generations before, by the first of my forebears to claim a portion of the moon’s surface for our clan. Located in the foothills of a mighty mountain range that ran the width of one of the two major continents, great snow-capped peaks towered above it, lending it grandeur beyond even that provided by its architecture. It sat at the farthest end of a short, narrow-necked peninsula that broadened out tremendously as it went, with gently sloping lawns and carefully-tended arbors all around, blending into a forest at the mainland. Broad towers and slender minarets danced along its upper reaches.
We brought the shuttle down and landed in one of the cobblestone courtyards that swooped out in lazy curves from the western side of the edifice. Three other shuttles, all bearing the official seals of our family, rested nearby—so I wasn’t the first to arrive.
Baranak_Storming the Gates Page 5
