Hammer of the Witches (The Covenant Chronicles Book 2)

by Kai Wai Cheah

“There are always other humans we can count on.”

  Sol Invictus shook his head. “Not to me, dear cousin. Not to me.”

  Both beings were correct. In the military they teach you to love your troops as your own family, but you must always remain detached so you will never hesitate to send them into the meatgrinder if you must. At the level of grand strategy, there is no room for sentimentality and individuality, only victory. And we were playing for the highest stakes.

  “I can count on your protection?” I asked, turning to the god.

  “I will teach you how to protect yourself. The rest is up to you.”

  “No apo mekhanes theos moments, eh?”

  “The gods help those who help themselves.”

  There was also another traditional Roman saying: the gods are on the side of the stronger.

  Hakem shook his head. “This is a mistake. You should have removed his ability to employ GEM fields at least.”

  “It is not as potentially deadly as a Kerr black hole. More to the point, did you not also teach the world time compression?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  Hakem sighed. “Yes. It was a mistake.”

  “What happened?”

  He sighed again. “Over a thousand years ago, one of my covenanters was in trouble. A horde of hostile jinn assaulted him, and he pleaded with me for help. I showed him the secret of time compression. He survived, but he taught his superiors and subordinates how to use it. Before long, the Wahist empires of the Near East knew that secret and used it to overrun many parts of the world.”

  “Including Pantopia, thank you very much,” Sol Invictus added.

  Another sigh. “Yes, that was my fault. Those jinn acted at the behest of the Unmaker. It was his first strike against me. When I realized he had used me, used that secret to spread chaos among the nations, it was too late.” He looked at Sol Invictus. “And therefore, I tell you now, you must erase the knowledge of gravitoelectromagnetism from Luke’s mind. Proliferation of the occult arts is a dangerous affair.”

  “I shall be the judge of that,” the god replied.

  “How long have you been fighting the Unmaker?” I asked.

  “Ever since the Source departed,” Hakem said. “The Unmaker has showed his hand again and again throughout the length of history, but only now is he acting so overtly.”

  I took a moment to digest his words. If that were true, then this was merely the latest round in a campaign that had lasted since the dawn of civilization. The timeframe alone was mind-boggling.

  “And the Unmaker’s current plan requires teaching people time travel?” I asked.

  “Correct.”

  “From your perspective, what’s the danger of time travel?”

  “When the Source set Creation into motion, They made causality one of its fundamental underpinnings. Every effect must have a cause; every action must have consequences. This is the only way to have a logical, orderly universe.

  “Time travel allows a mortal to leap backward through the stream of time and to interfere with an event. The outcome of an action has been changed, creating a new cause and effect. Everything forward of that new cause will be destroyed and recreated in the wake of the new effect. The entire world will be rewritten by the hand of the time traveler.

  “I… I do not know what this spells for the world. I cannot see the timeline in which man controls time.”

  “What do you think will happen?” I asked.

  “He who controls time travel will rule the world like a god. But… More likely, the reverberations of the destruction and recreation of worlds and timelines will ripple throughout all of Creation, destroying everything that is, has been and will be.”

  “Assume the worst, dear cousin,” Sol Invictus advised. “It is best to be pessimistic about world-ending threats like this.”

  “Won’t the Source do anything to stop it?” I asked.

  “They have left the world in the hands of men. Either the sons and daughters of Adam will preserve all of Creation, or they will be destroyed. Luke Landon, upon you lies the burden of this duty. We can only help you shoulder the load; we cannot remove it.”

  “What good is your Source if they won’t act?” Sol Invictus chided.

  “You would speak so lightly of They who created you? And you saw what happened at the Hagia Aletheia, yes?”

  “I know my sire, dear cousin, and he is not your precious Source.”

  Hakem glared. The stars outside grew brighter but colder. Shadows crept across the room. The black orb by my side whirled about dangerously.

  “What does the Unmaker want?” I asked. “What does he get out of destroying all of Creation through time travel?”

  Sanity—what sanity there was inside a mental chamber occupied by an archangel and a god—returned.

  “It is his nature to destroy all things,” Hakem said.

  “Yes, it is even in his name,” Sol Invictus added. “The Hellenes called him Antiktesis. He who stands against the Creator.”

  “What motivates him?” I pressed.

  “He believes the sons and daughters of Adam are flawed and unworthy of inheriting Creation,” Hakem said. “To prove his argument, he aims to goad them into destroying Creation by their own hand. And what better way than to unmake Creation than by unmaking its axioms?”

  “The Unmaker already has significant power over space-time,” I said. “You saw how he used closed timelike curves. He can’t use those wormholes to reach into the past and teach humans how to do it?”

  Hakem shook his head firmly. “He can’t. His methods won’t work for humans.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He has no true power over Creation. Merely the ability to whisper into hearts.”

  “Then how did he appear before me and create CTCs?”

  “Whenever someone manipulates Haawiyah, either conventionally through nythium or through a covenant, he brings forth a small part of it into reality. Through that bridge, the Unmaker can act.

  “When you warp through space-time, you pass through Haawiyah. When you compress time, you manifest a portion of Haawiyah on this Earth. In the former case, you are going to the Unmaker’s home. In the latter, you create a stepping stone for him to come to you, however briefly.”

  “So that’s why I’ve never seen him outside warp channels or time compression.”

  “Exactly.”

  “If you do not look into the abyss, the abyss cannot look back,” Sol Invictus said.

  “Given who and what I fight against? I can’t do that.”

  “Be sparing with our powers,” Hakem said. “Every time you touch Haawiyah, the Unmaker walks behind you.”

  Sol Invictus smiled. “But not if you use Creation.”

  “It isn’t a panacea either,” the archangel said.

  “Same as your powers,” the god replied.

  I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the advice. What’s the Unmaker planning now?”

  “He is doing what he does best: whispering,” Hakem said. “Do not worry. His pawns will expose themselves soon enough. For now, rest.”

  Sol Invictus nodded. “You shouldn’t go back to war until you’re fully recovered. You’ll have another shot soon enough.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  Bright light washed through the windows.

  “This is when we must part,” Hakem said. “Ma’ al-salamah, Luke Landon. We shall see each other soon.”

  “Ma’ al-salamah,” I echoed.

  Sol Invictus raised his hand. “Vale en pace. Seize what moments of peace you can find. They will be soon be few and far between.”

  “Thank you. I will. Vale.”

  ***

  We ended our journey where this mess began: New Haven International Airport. As in Geneva, we rolled into a private hangar, where a private plane was waiting. This time, O’Connor was there. And this time, we carried out the dead.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” O’Connor said.

  “Alex
was… he was a good man,” I said. “Reliable. Committed. Skilled. You could always count on him to get the job done.”

  “Amen,” Pete said.

  Pete and Ricky carried the body to the belly of the NISA plane. I would have helped, but they insisted on doing all the heavy lifting themselves. They didn’t want me to aggravate my injuries. Perhaps it was the right thing to do.

  “You’ll make sure his family gets payment for this mission and a death gratuity,” I said.

  “It was an unofficial mission…” O’Connor began.

  “Screw that. Draw it out of Kalypso’s operational funds if you must. You know we can afford it.”

  “I was getting to that,” he said.

  “Good.”

  It was the least we could do. Hakem had told me once that the souls of the faithful went to him after death. He didn’t know—or couldn’t tell me—where the souls of atheists went. Sol Invictus wouldn’t know either; his domain was life, not death.

  If I died, where would I go? To the Void? Somewhere else? Or would I just cease to exist? I didn’t know. I should have asked Hakem and Sol Invictus earlier. But it was too late. And I didn’t know if there would be another time.

  Then again, I suspected I already knew.

  After Pete and Ricky transferred the body aboard, a gang of burly men followed them to the airship, where they began moving the other body bags.

  “Those are the deaders you recovered in Switzerland?” O’Connor asked.

  “Yeah. Didn’t have time to double-check though. There might be some remains left at the farm.”

  “We’ve got guys combing the site already. If there’s anything else to cover, we’ll…”

  O’Connor goggled. He was looking at the fatigue party moving the bodies of the giants.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he said. “They’re huge.”

  “And they all look alike,” I said. “Clones, gotta be.”

  “That’s… I’d say it’s impossible, but…”

  “The world is getting weird.”

  “Weird is the least of it. We’ll do what we can with the corpses.”

  NISA would pore over every square inch of the corpses, taking fingerprints, DNA samples and other identifiers. If we knew who the dead men were, we could trace their employer. But it would be harder to pull the same trick with the giants.

  I dug around my pocket and handed O’Connor a ziplock bag. “Here.”

  He squinted at the contents. They were metal chips the size of my thumb.

  “What’s this?”

  “Implants. Recovered them from Brandt. The largest one is basically an empty container. My guess is that’s how he committed suicide: the implant could have stored a dose of poison.”

  “What about the others?

  “Frank says they’re memory chips. But they’ve been wiped. Maybe that’s why he took so long to trigger the suicide chip. He needed to make sure they were wiped first.”

  He accepted the bag. “We’ll see what we can do with these.”

  “I’m willing to bet that’s how they got the suicide bomber through security at the Hagia Aletheia. A bunch of microchip bombs that look like implants. Or maybe nanomachines.”

  “I haven’t heard of tech like that before.”

  “Me neither. There’s someone out there with serious funding and resources pulling the strings.”

  “I’d say it’s a conspiracy theory, but…”

  “It’s not a theory when it’s front of you.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Me neither. Have you heard the phrase Eine Welt, eine Recht, eine Volk?”

  “No. What about it?”

  “It means one world, one law, one people. Brandt said that before he died. Might be important.”

  “We’ll keep our ears peeled.”

  Frank and his team disembarked the airship, carrying their computer equipment. He waved at me as he led his group aboard the plane. I waved back.

  “What’s going to happen to the Hexenhammer guys we picked up?” I asked.

  O’Connor ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s going to be complicated. Normally, we’d fast-track them for naturalization, but technically, they’re still wanted terrorists.”

  “They could be useful assets,” I said. “Not on the level of Nemesis operators, sure, but they’ve proven their worth.”

  He nodded. “I’m going to sell that to upper management. We have to look after our own.”

  A thought struck me. I laughed. And my ribs hurt.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I took short, shallow breaths, murdering my newfound mirth.

  “These guys… are opposed… to mass immigration. Now… they have to be… immigrants themselves. Ironic, eh?”

  “Such is life.” He paused. “But I can’t guarantee I’ll be successful. Only that I’ll try.

  “If that doesn’t pan out, send them to me,” I said, rubbing my side. “I could always use a few good people on Kalypso.”

  O’Connor shook his head. “You’ve got an airship. Now you’re developing weapons for that airship and recruiting aircrew, hackers and logistics specialists. Are you trying to build a private army or something?”

  “Aren’t we already?”

  A man in faded overalls whispered something into O’Connor’s ear. He nodded and turned back to me.

  “We’re wheels-up in ten minutes,” he said. “All of you did fine work out there. No matter what upper management says, I’m in your corner.”

  “Thanks.”

  We shook hands.

  “You need time to heal,” he said. “I’m taking you off the operational cycle. No more direct action jobs. Not until you’re better.”

  “I’ve got plenty of vacation and sick leave stored up anyway.”

  He laughed. In the Program, there was no such thing as a vacation.

  “See ya.”

  As he left, he shot me a small two-finger salute. In that gesture, I thought I saw a glimpse of authenticity of the man that hid beneath the persona he wore.

  I returned it.

  ***

  When the NISA team left, we gathered in the drawing room. There were Pete, Ricky, Eve and Captain Harding. The airship crew was on liberty, but Harding had insisted on staying aboard.

  I cracked open a bottle of red wine and poured glasses for everyone. I took one for myself and raised it high.

  “Absent companions!” I said.

  “Absent companions!” they echoed.

  I drained the glass in a single pull. Diluted hellfire washed down my gullet. My limbs went rubbery; I had to concentrate just to control my muscles. Flipping the glass around, I placed it on the table. The men followed. Eve took a second to catch on.

  “Alex… he was the best,” Pete said. “Straight shooter through and through.”

  “He was a good guy,” Ricky said. “For a Marine.”

  Harding smiled briefly, if somberly. “Gents, lady, I’m sorry for your loss. On behalf of the crew, you have my condolences.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  It was the only thing I could say. I was never good at grief. After Gabrielle’s death, it felt like something had been torn out of me. Still. This was my op. Alex’s death was on me.

  And so was his final fate.

  A gentle hand touched my shoulder. Eve.

  “Hey,” she said. “At least you made them pay.”

  “Only their hired guns. Not the shot callers.” I took a deep breath. “But we’re going to find them. We’ll find the leaders, the financiers, the ones who organized the campaign against Hexenhammer. The ones who killed Alex. And when we find them, they will pay.”

  “Amen,” Pete said.

  Leaving the airship, we split up at the arrivals hall. Harding was going to join his crew on some much-needed R&R. Pete and Ricky volunteered to be the bearers of bad news to Alex’s family. As team leader, it was my responsibility, but the duo would have none of it.

  �
�Kalypso is still here,” Pete said. “Any moment now, ol’ Will is gonna tap you to do the paperwork.”

  I folded my arms. “Better me than you, huh.”

  “Of course. You’ve got the head for writing reports. I’m just the muscle.”

  “Meathead.”

  “Geek.”

  As the men left, Pete engaged Ricky in conversation. No doubt he’d talk Ricky’s ear off all the way to their destination and back.

  Pete had told me once that he wanted to put together a network of Nemesis shooters for mutual network. Like a union. We couldn’t count on NISA to protect us if a deniable op went bad. I had no doubt Pete would try to recruit Ricky.

  After all, Hakem had assigned Pete the task of supporting Eve and me.

  He turned, looking at Eve and me together, and winked. She laughed. I sighed. Him and his jokes.

  Now it was just me and her, face to face and eye to eye.

  This was where I should walk away. My brain insisted on it. But we had traveled, bled and killed side by side across a continent. She deserved something more than an abrupt goodbye.

  “What’s next on your agenda?” I asked.

  “I have to go back home. I need to check up on my family. See if they’re safe. And there are still a few more Hexenhammer operatives not accounted for. Including Vidar. I have to know where they went… if they’re still alive.”

  “Pantopia is still hot.”

  “Not Switzerland. It’s calm there, recent events notwithstanding. And I have a brand-new passport. It’ll be safe enough for me to do what I need to do.”

  “Good luck. It’s been… It’s been good working with you.”

  “Thanks. Same here.”

  Yet she continued standing there, looking at me looking at her.

  “When is your flight?” I asked.

  She smiled coquettishly. “I haven’t booked it yet… but I was thinking of the midnight flight to Geneva.”

  “Leaving us twelve hours of free time.”

  “That’s right.”

  My tongue froze. My brain locked up. But if I was going to do this, it was now or never.

  “Book your flight and come with me. I’ll show you around New Haven until it’s time to go.”

  Her smile grew into a megawatt grin.

  “Sure.”

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I am indebted to many wonderful people for lending their time, energy and insight to help me produce this book. In particular, I would like to thank the following people: