by M. R. Forbes
Abbey felt the Gift surging within her. She raised her hand, and Kett was thrown back, pinned to the wall by it. Siddrah and Brinks both stood, reaching for their sidearms. Bastion was quicker, drawing a pair of guns and pointing them at both the soldier.
“Nope,” he said.
“You listen to me, General,” Abbey said, getting to her feet and climbing to the top of the table. She kept her eyes on Charmeine. The Seraph wasn’t making any effort to stop her. In fact, Abbey got the impression that she was on her side. “You pulled me into this fight. You made me into this so that I could go against Thraven. The whole things sucks, but unfortunately for you, you lucked into the right woman for the job. Win the opening battle? Frag you, I already did. I killed Thraven’s Evolent. I took one of his best ships. I found out he was coming here in time to warn you. And I’ve got a spearhead of my own. Now, either you can agree to pack up your shit and follow me to Kell, or I can kill you and as many of your people as I have to until I find someone who will.”
She smiled and let go of him. He dropped to the floor, remaining there, staring at her.
“Is that understood?” she asked.
He kept staring while tense seconds passed. Then he returned her smile. “You’re more than we could have hoped for, Abigail.”
“I’m just getting started,” she replied.
30
General Kett vanished from the room almost immediately after regaining his breath, excusing himself so he could start getting his soldiers mobilized. There seemed to be a new fire in him after Abbey roughed him up. A flaring sense of hope or purpose. It was more than Abbey would have expected, but then, for as much as she had thought she knew Kett from his exploits and his record before, she realized she didn’t really know a damn thing about him. He had used her. He had lied to her. He had gotten his daughter to lie to her, too. She was a product of his design as much as Thraven’s. A pawn.
Not anymore.
They finished eating, and then Charmeine brought them outside for a tour of the camp. It was still raining.
“It’s always raining in here,” Charmaine said. “If we want to see the sky, we take a ship up over the clouds. It can be a real strain on some of the recruits, but it keeps us hidden.”
They were riding in a small car, a transparent canopy keeping them dry. There was an increasing volume of activity in the camp, with soldiers moving back and forth in the damp, most of them in full suits with helmets and TCUs to keep their movements coordinated and keep themselves dry and warm. They had already started loading items into transport crates from within the lines of barracks, looking up at them as they made their way past, and in many cases raising a palm to the Seraph. She repeated the gesture to them, smiling at them as she did.
“They respect you quite a bit,” Abbey said.
“They respect Sylvan, and they know I’m his wife.” She looked at Abbey. “And some of them just think I’m hot.”
Abbey smiled. “You are.”
“I don’t want to sound conceited, but I know. It certainly doesn’t hurt that I’m being genetically held at twenty-six Earth years by the regenerator.”
“Ten-thousand,” Abbey said. “I can’t even imagine what that must be like. How did you manage to survive so long?”
“We were never intended to. Naturally, we live and die similar to humans. The regenerators became a necessity after the Shard was murdered and the war started. He knew some would have to survive, to carry the word of what happened forward. Without it, Thraven and the Nephilim would have already won.”
“Why didn’t you just write it down?” Bastion asked.
“Can you read Seraphim?” Charmeine asked. “Can it be translated to Terran by someone who isn’t a Seraph? Written histories are valuable, but the stories we tell can be more valuable. That is why the Shard gave us the regeneration technology.”
“What about the teleporters?” Abbey asked. “He gave you those, too?”
She nodded. “None of it is without a price. They’re charged with naniates, which means they either must use the Blood of the Shard directly, which will further drain the Focus, or they must be powered by a Gifted Seraph. You know what happens when we take the Gift.”
“I do,” Abbey said, glancing back at Jequn.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Queenie,” Jequn said. “It was my choice to make.”
“All of the descendants have a choice,” Charmeine said. “Free will is the most valuable gift we are given. Even our oral histories have lost their impact over time. There are millions of humans with Seraphim heritage, but so few know where they came from, or what their parents or their parent's parents were. So many have turned away from the truth and decided the Nephilim are nothing more than myth.”
“You mean like the Bible?” Bastion said.
“Stories retold from our history, yes. There is some ring of truth to all of them if you know the context in which they occur.”
“What do you mean?” Abbey asked.
“We used the Focus to destroy much of the life in this galaxy. We too were decimated. Torn apart by the use of the Focus. It stopped the war and drove the Nephilim away, but we always knew they would come back. And they did. In small numbers at first. They passed themselves off as gods and took people away in their ships, back to the Extant to use them for their blood, or recruit them to their cause.”
“Wait a second,” Bastion said. “You’re talking about what? Like the Egyptians? The Pyramids?”
“How do you know about that?” Abbey asked.
“I read a book once,” he replied. “And I went to elementary school. I’m not a total frag-up you know. I used to love that shit. The Egyptians, the Aztecs, the Incas. They had so much in common, even though they lived so far apart. I guess now I know why.”
“Yes. That’s one example,” Charmeine said. “Do you remember the icons of Anubis?”
Bastion nodded. “Yeah.” He paused. “Oh. Shit.”
“What?” Abbey asked. Her education hadn’t included ancient Egypt.
“Queenie, those things we’ve been fighting. The Goreshins. If you look at them a certain way, they could pass as Anubis.”
“Seriously?” Abbey said.
“Yeah, for once.” He looked at Charmeine, suddenly much more interested in the conversation. “I read that the Pyramids were aligned astrologically. So were some of the temples in South America. Related?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Abbey asked. “If you knew they were on Earth, why didn’t you do something about it?”
“We couldn’t fight them when we were at full strength. How were we supposed to fight them when we were so few? We did what we could. We fought when we could. In many ways, this war never ended.” She took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I’ve killed enough Nephilim for ten times my lifespan. I’ve watched friends, husbands, lovers, children all die at their hands. I’m numb to it. No intelligent being should ever become numb to killing or to loss.”
She froze, staring straight ahead. Abbey could sense the pain, the hurt, the tiredness. She had no idea how anything could live as long as Charmaine claimed without losing their sanity. She couldn’t put her mind around the loneliness.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Chermeine said. “The past can help inform the future, but neither can directly change the other. For my part, I’m sorry that we weren’t able to do more, and that we’ve left all of the Children of the Shard so unprepared for this fight. I’m sorry too that we had to drag you into this the way we did.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you, Queenie,” Jequn said. “I know I said it already, but it bears repeating. I couldn’t betray my loyalties.” She smiled. “I’m glad you found your way here, though. I think you’re right about this fight, about focusing on winning one battle before worrying about the next.”
“I understand,” Abbey replied. “I honestly do, now. I’m not angry at you. I’m not angry at General Kett either. In a way, I’m glad it was me
. When Olus first got us out of Hell, I took command reluctantly. I-”
“That’s not how I remember it,” Bastion interrupted.
“I didn’t want to be in charge,” Abbey said. “But I did want to be in control. I have a daughter. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose her. I can’t imagine what it has been like for you to lose so many. I know I’m not the only one with a child or someone important to protect. I don’t want to count on someone else to be that protection. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I’m glad it was you, too,” Charmeine said. “Your passion is obvious, and it rubs off on those around you. It makes you a strong leader.”
“You’d have to be, to put up with this one’s mouth,” Jequn said, elbowing Bastion.
“What?” he replied. “I haven’t even been saying that much.”
“Only because you were shoving too much food into your face too quickly to form any words.”
“That was the first time I sat down for a meal that wasn’t a food bar in years. So yeah, I was whole hogging it all the way.”
“Whole hogging it?” Abbey said.
“All the way. Hey, since we’re on a new topic, I have a question.”
“What is it?” Abbey said.
“I don’t see how all of this shit is going to fit on the handful of ships parked with the Faust?” He pointed in the distance, where a Gunner was making its way across the open space. “Like that mech over there. How are you going to get it out of here? You can fit maybe three of them on one of those ships.”
“A reasonable question,” Charmeine said. “These ships are for emergency evacuation. We have others nearby. We rescued them from the Republic scrapyards, paying the junkers for them instead of allowing them to be broken down. They’re old, but they’re functional.”
“That’s not a promising review,” Abbey said. “Ships like the Fire will cut right through a fleet like that.”
“I know. Which is why we need to remove those ships from the equation.”
“Shrikes will eat ships like that alive, too,” Bastion said.
“We have Shrikes of our own to counter them. We’ve been collecting across the entire galaxy. And we have the Focus.”
“You said the Focus’ power is waning,” Abbey said.
“It is. We can’t cause another mass extinction. But we can use it judiciously to help with the fight. I’ve already relayed a message to the Seedships to return here.”
“I know the Seedships have teleporters,” Abbey said. “Do they have anything else we can use?”
“Like weapons? No. They carry links to the Focus, and we can use the power of the Focus through them. That is the closest thing we possess.”
“So the Shardship won’t be coming to the party?” Bastion asked.
“Even if it weren’t too dangerous, the Shardship was badly damaged by the Nephilim and crashed thousands of years ago. We’re fortunate that the enemy doesn’t know it’s location.”
“But you and General Kett do,” Abbey said.
“We are the only two here that know where it is. There are others who know, of course, or we wouldn’t be able to draw Blood from the Tomb, but their identities are secret, for obvious reasons.”
“Understood,” Abbey said.
“Let me show you the rest of the compound. When we’re done, I’ll drop you at the War Room so you can plan your strategy with Sylvan. Make sure you come and see me when you’re done. I have something for you.”
“You do?” Abbey said. “What is it?”
“Do you like surprises, Queenie?”
“That depends.”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
31
“I’ve been following you,” Abbey said. “Tracking you since I first heard the Republic brand you a traitor. I never believed it.”
General Sylvan Kett looked up from the projection ahead of him. It was messy with reports from his senior officers, all of them doing their best to get the rebellion mobilized.
“Why not?” Sylvan asked. “Thraven did an impressive job of setting me up for that fall, and getting enough plants on the Committee and the Council to support it.”
“Intuition?” Abbey said. “Instinct? Or maybe I could see the truth through the reports. A war hero. A man who dedicated his entire life to protecting the Republic suddenly turning mercenary? It didn’t add up.”
“It’s happened before.”
“Maybe it didn’t add up then, either. How long have the Nephilim been manipulating things? If they were around in ancient Egypt, how do we know they don’t own the corporations that run the Outworlds?”
“They would have had the Fire and Brimstone a long time ago if they had access to those kinds of resources.”
“Maybe,” Abbey said.
“I assume Charlie gave you a little bit of a Seraphim history lesson while she was showing you around.”
“She did.”
“Do you believe it?”
“Do you?”
He smiled. “It sneaks up on you, doesn’t it? The truth of human civilization. That we were made by some higher order intelligence.”
“People have believed God made us for a long time. What is God, if not a higher order intelligence?”
“You can argue that I suppose.”
“You don’t agree?”
“I was a religious man when I met Charlie. It’s tough to reconcile sometimes. I prefer to think that God created the One and the One created man. The Bible was never meant to be taken literally, so all of the meanings are the same. Even if the source material is based on an interstellar war.”
“What does this have to do with current events?” Abbey asked.
“Not much, but I don’t get to talk it out too often. What did you think of the resistance?”
“I’m impressed with how much you’ve been able to accomplish. You’ve managed to get your hands on a lot of equipment.”
“Most of it is outdated.”
“Not the Daedalus fighters. Not the Gunners.”
“I bought them directly from StarDyne.”
“It’s illegal for them to sell to you directly.”
Sylvan smiled. “Very. But I have a few connections there.”
“It should be enough to destroy Thraven’s base on Kell.”
“Assuming we can catch them while Thraven’s out to lunch. And assuming he took all of his new shiny warships with him.”
“He arrives here, we arrive there,” Abbey said. “It sounds good to me. Once we’ve diminished his forces, we can worry about picking off the rest. Does the Focus have enough left to destroy a few ships?”
“It should, but it might not be enough.”
Sylvan manipulated the projection, hiding the reports and bringing up a news feed.
“I picked this up an hour ago. It looks like Thraven’s goal of gaining full control of the Republic Council has been successful.”
Abbey looked at the feed. “A terrorist attack on a charity dinner?” she said, scanning it. “Eight Council members dead, along with four hundred others. The entire original structure of the Natural History Museum destroyed. A suspect at large.” She froze. “Captain Mann? That’s bullshit.”
“That’s Thraven,” Sylvan said. “He’s going to gain control of the Council. Do you know what he’s going to do with that control?”
Abbey felt cold. They had framed Olus for the attack. They had found a way to tear down his years of loyal service in the course of a few weeks. At least he was at large, as in still alive.
“I can guess.”
“He’s already captured Anvil,” Sylvan said. “And destroyed a Republic battlegroup near it. He’ll gather the Republic’s resources and pool them there, ostensibly to retaliate for the attacks on the Republic the Outworlds have been carrying out, and the theft of the Fire and Brimstone. He’ll push both nations to war with one another, directing one with his left hand, and the other with his right. And then he’ll declare martial law in both and start
conscripting citizens.”
“Except those citizens will never make it to the front lines,” Abbey said.
“That’s right. They’ll vanish without a trace. Their families will be told they’re dead.”
“Like Hell, but on a much larger scale.”
“Exactly.”
“What about the others? The Gants and the Atmo and the Rudin?”
“He’ll control them or kill them. It won’t matter at that point. If he controls humans, he has more than enough.”
“He’ll be able to power the Elysium Gate.”
“If he’s building one, yeah. But that was always the plan, wasn’t it?”
“Frag. How do we stop this?”
Sylvan put out his hands. “I’m not sure yet. The good news is, wars don’t start that quickly, and it’ll take months for him to make those moves so that they don’t look orchestrated. Step one, take out his fleet on Kell. Step two, kill the fragger. I’m glad you found me, Abigail. I was wrong to sit back and wait on this. I’ve done the best I can, but I’m not perfect.”
“None of us are,” Abbey replied. “Do you have estimates on when you’ll be finished packing?”
“Early estimates. It’s going to be close. I’m at forty-nine hours right now.”
“That’s two too many.”
“I know. We have a lot of equipment, and we weren’t planning on having to bug out of here just yet. I expected it to take months for Thraven to crack that encryption, not weeks. Even with you looking into it. I don’t know how they broke it so fast.”
“He sent it back to Earth. To the HSOC. They probably borrowed time on the Worldbrain.”
“We accounted for that. Charlie wrote the algorithm. It was based on Seraphim encryption protocols written in Rudin tertiary.”
“Rudin tertiary? Damn. I should have guessed that. I don’t understand why you didn’t just leave a decoy?”
“You would have figured out it was a dud in seconds. Like I said before, it was a risk. I guess we’re splitting the difference on this one.”
“Best laid plans,” Abbey said. “We still have a fighting chance. Are you familiar with Kell?”
