After a long pause, Adrial applauded. “Congratulations, you were right.”
“What?”
“You compared us to insects once.”
I frowned, reviled. “That wasn’t me.”
Adrial rolled his eyes. “What’s the method, then?”
“Yahweh took some hormones from me and made a serum. He’ll be treating Lei—er, Oran with it. If she stops bleeding and fainting, we know we’re good.”
Adrial was perplexed. “That’s not a cure, only a bandage.”
“It’ll give us time to figure something else out.”
“Qaira, you can’t cheat death. Death is something that comes for all of us. It’s the multiversal order.”
“Expiration isn’t death,” I snapped. “It’s a transition state to adulthood, like I said five seconds ago. You guys are executing yourselves before your lives even begin.”
“If we didn’t, our species would have wiped itself out millions of years ago.”
“Look, I’m not here to have a philosophical debate—”
“Let’s pretend that you’re right for a second,” he interjected. “Expiration is a transitioning state; and at what cost should we endure it?”
Ugh. “I just fucking said I’m not here to have a—”
“We self-mediate our life cycles because it is our duty as an apex species to preserve the balance of the multiverse. An expired Vel’Haru could wipe out dozens of worlds alone.”
“It’s not a natural balance if you’re mediating it. You’re not preserving anything.”
Adrial sighed. “Technically you’re right, but in this case it’s better to prevent natural order than the alternative.”
I disagreed, but wasn’t going to be side-lined. “Tell me about Oraniquitis.”
“She’s here. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
I glared.
Adrial conceded. “Have you already spoken with Calenus?”
“Yeah.”
“Then there isn’t anything more to tell you. He knows better than all of us what she is.”
But there were things I hadn’t asked him; things that would have certainly aroused suspicion. “How did he defeat her?”
“Defeat,” Adrial scoffed. “That’s a relative term, and I’m not really sure. Those still conscious enough to have seen the fight to its end said Calenus and Oraniquitis were going at it solo, atop a mountain of obsidian carcasses.”
“Want a lyre or can we get to the actual answer?”
“The all-out assault on Oraniquitis had done enough damage that Leid was barely alive. All Calenus had to do was finish her off. And… he didn’t. He reached into her chest, somehow expelling Oraniquitis’s resonance, and then forced it back into the statue.” Adrial looked at the ground, seeing only memories. “He spared her life.”
My stare turned accusatory. “You don’t think he should have.”
“What I think means nothing in any grand scheme,” he said, returning his attention toward the shelf. “Or is that not obvious enough already?”
I sighed, getting up to leave. “Thanks for your help.”
“She wasn’t able to enter Calenus,” said Adrial, right before I hit the door.
I paused, turning around. “Why not?”
“We don’t know. Calenus thought that perhaps she can’t enter nobles, only guardians.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but an explosion outside Ezekiel shook the room hard enough that I almost bit through my tongue.
I grabbed the door to keep from being hurled off my feet, and Adrial shielded his head as the bookshelf came crashing down.
Within moments the ship re-stabilized, alarms now blaring across the halls.
“Jesus, fuck,” I exclaimed, knocking shelving debris and linens from my person. Both our headset halo-comms were flashing red from urgent calls.
I took Seyestin’s first. “Hi, why am I wearing furniture?”
“Get to the bridge. Something’s blasting our shields to high-Heaven and we can’t get a reading.”
“What do you mean you can’t get a reading?” I shot Adrial a look, who was now on the call as well. He looked as clueless as me. “If something’s close enough to shoot at our shields, we should be able to see it!”
“Qaira, if I was completely aware of what was going on I wouldn’t have called you.”
“What, you want my expertise?”
“You’re a Vel’Haru physicist. Either you or Yahweh will solve this puzzle.”
“Fine.” I cut the call and nodded at Adrial. “Round up my team and get Belial to round up his. A pack of cigarettes says this is going to get really bloody.”
“Of course it is,” muttered Adrial, tossing down a book. “It always is.”
XX
STRATEGY
Yahweh Telei—;
I DID MY BEST TO KEEP A STEADY HAND as I extracted the serum into my syringe, all the while reminding myself that I was a doctor. I’d done this a million times before; never mind the fact that my patient was an ancient Vel’Haru who may or may not be psychologically stable. I was skilled at administering needles without pain. Children used to like me. Probably because I’d been closer to their ages.
Oran waited calmly for her treatment, peering at nothing.
Robotic, almost.
Ataractic as she was, her resonance sang to me, thrumming at my heart-strings, making it difficult to work. It was best described as a vibrational hum against my skin, maddening when focused upon.
Was this how every guardian felt near their nobles? I had so many questions, yet no time to ask them.
“I’d turn it off if I could,” she said, near-whisper.
“I’m sorry?” I managed, already knowing what she was alluding to.
“You’re shaking. Don’t pretend, precious boy.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks and I looked down. “I’m not a boy, nor am I under your spell.”
Oran smiled. “I don’t need a spell to make you mine. You’re already marked.”
Marked. “Please, elaborate.”
Instead she twitched her exposed bicep, still inked with Nehelian script. “Time is of the essence, Commander Telei.”
So it was.
I wiped a patch of her skin with an antiseptic swab—pointless, but I was a creature of habit—and then gingerly inserted the needle into her arm. She neither flinched nor frowned in discomfort. When done, I capped the needle and threw it in the sanitizer.
“Will this work?” she asked.
“I can’t guarantee anything, but I’m hopeful.”
Oran took a step toward me, cocking her head. “Why are you doing all of this?”
I raised my brows. “All of this being—?
“Meddling in our nature, all to save a woman you partially despise.”
That had felt like a punch in the stomach. “I don’t despise Leid. I respect her more than anyone I know.”
“You’re forgetting that I can feel what you feel. Your resonance sings to me the truth.”
I retracted, turning my back to her and removing my gloves. “The truth is Qaira asked me to do this and so I am doing it. Had I not agreed to do this, we would all be charred remnants scattered across Lohr.”
“So you’re doing this for Qaira.”
“I’m doing this for Heaven,” I said firmly, “and everyone else who is suffering on The Atrium.”
Oraniquitis laughed. It was so sudden that I almost jumped.
“Oh, save me the speech. Your moral compass isn’t any less skewed than the next person. But you admire Qaira, don’t you? I don’t blame you; he’s quite the specimen. As much as you pretend otherwise, you would do just about anything to appease him.”
I thought back to Sanctum, to that hospital bed. I’d told Qaira I wanted to be like him and he had laughed wistfully, as if that was a terrible thing to want.
And then I noticed Oran’s intensive gaze, as if she was also seeing that memory.
I killed it.
“We’re done,” I murmured.
“I’ll contact Qaira and—”
Boom.
The lab tilted and both Oran and I lost our footing, tumbling past the privacy curtain and into the wall. We collided together, barely dodging chromatography cylinders I’d stacked away. Fortunately they couldn’t kill me again.
My immediate response was a lunge for the microfridge where other samples of the serum were kept in cold storage. Zero Kelvin storage, to be exact. Vel’Haru tissue didn’t have much of a shelf-life in vitro. The only way the serum held was in a cold vacuum.
Luckily I was no longer mortal celestial, or the weight of the fridge would have flattened me. Only a slight resistance on my part slowed its acceleration, and I was able to keep it from slamming into the wall until the ship stabilized.
Oran had disappeared. I was left alone. Drat.
I tapped my headset, receiving the first call.
“Report,” I said.
“We’ve been hit with something; a tenth of our frontline is unresponsive. Everyone is reporting that they felt something, but we can’t see it. Shit, we just lost a carrier.” Seyestin sounded panicked. “I’m sounding the alarms.” He didn’t need to tell me that, I heard them just fine. “Assembling deck troops, manning cannon stations.”
I threw off my coat and adjusted my tie, sighing deeply while vacating the lab. My gait was quick, eyes cast to the ground. “Can you still not get a reading?”
“No, sir,” said Seyestin. “We’re blind.”
“Summon Qaira to the command station.”
“That doesn’t sound helpful, sir.”
“He’s a Vel’Haru physicist.”
There was a pause. “Contacting him now.”
“I’ll be up in half a minute.”
***
Qaira Eltruan—;
“What’s all the noise?” I asked, still trying to get into my coat. The shoulders didn’t fit right, like it was made for a teenage boy.
Seyestin was dispatching our aerial militia into a stagger. Fatal messages swarmed the central command and navigation screens. A third of Ezekiel’s shields were down; I hated to think about what might happen if we were hit again.
“Nothing but fog,” said Seyestin. “No army that I can see, just one mysterious bang so far.”
I surveyed the radar screens. “No army, because whatever they hit us with has a wide area of effect and isn’t precise.”
“If it was a bomb or other form of mass-effect artillery, the heat signatures would have identified it.”
“Did you identify any heat?”
“Yes, enough to hit our shields and knock our front-line jets out of the sky. The halosphere picked up fluctuations in the EM field.”
“Gamma-ray burst,” I said. “That’s the only thing that could hit our shields so hard.”
Seyestin spun in his seat, irritated. “Sure, but from what?”
I said nothing, watching the sky through the observatory glass.
“The Commander seems to think you might know what’s going on,” he added, impatient.
“Yeah, I might,” I said, “but I’ll have to see something first.”
Yahweh burst in, accompanied by soldiers. He stopped and they scattered to their battle-stations along the wall.
“Ezekiel has been placed in full combat mode, Commander,” reported Seyestin. “Jets are scattered, awaiting your command.”
“What’s the situation level?” asked Yahweh, joining us in front of the window.
“Critical,” said Seyestin.
“Escalate it to fatal.”
Seyestin looked up at Yahweh, confused. “But that unlocks the—”
“It frees up forty-five percent more power,” interjected Yahweh, “and I have a feeling we’ll need it.”
And then he caught me admiring him.
I looked away, feigning a scowl, but it was too late.
Although he’d never been a coward, he’d always been afraid of death—or defeat, for that matter. Here he was, commanding a warship that could quite possibly get blown out of the sky at any second. And he wasn’t afraid.
… But then I remembered what he was, what he had become. Yahweh wasn’t afraid because he wasn’t a man anymore, he was a thing.
A thing, like me.
“Any breakthroughs?” asked Yahweh.
“No,” I said, “other than knowing that it’s turning our shields into gamma rays.”
“Guess we’ll have to take another hit, then. Hopefully that wasn’t a one-time show.” Yahweh turned to the analysts on his right. “Boost shields to maximum capacity.”
“The halo will drop power,” objected Seyestin. “Sir, we’ll compromise central command.”
Yahweh shot him a side-glare. “And the point of preserving central command without a ship is—?”
Seyestin sighed, conceding. “Boosting shields.” After a moment, he said, “What if this is what they want us to do?”
“Then they’re very strategic, because that’s the only play I can make,” murmured Yahweh. “Everyone hold on to their seats.”
There was no way he could have seen it, but the timing was perfect. As soon as he said that, another blast hit the ship. It shook the command station, but we were prepared. A row of cavalry fell from the side-view observatory. Seyestin must have seen their engine failures on his screen, because he cursed, on cue.
And I still couldn’t see it.
I rifled through wavelengths, waiting to catch some radiation. But there was no radiation; only gamma. There should have been some indication of what the weapon was made of, but no cigar.
“How the fuck is this possible?” I said aloud. “It’s not on the spectrum at all.”
“Sir, we’ve lost half of our shields,” said Seyestin. “We can’t take another hit.”
“That isn’t possible,” Yahweh stated, aghast. “Aren’t you able to see all spectrums of normal matter?”
Normal matter.
I crossed my eyes, and I could see it.
Shit.
“Anti-matter,” I said. Then, louder, “They’re using anti-matter bombs.”
Obviously neither Seyestin nor Yahweh knew about this because they just stood there, stunned.
“Do you have anything to defend with?!” I exclaimed, pointing at the alarms.
“No,” said Yahweh, his voice trembling. “That type of weaponry was banned on Felor. We haven’t used it for thousands of years. General Trede, pull Ezekiel back. Cavalry and front line will advance.”
“Don’t suppose you have a particle smasher in your lab.”
Yahweh shook his head. “But I think we can build one. I have vacuum chamber technology and a pump assembly.”
“Subvert the engine thrusters and use it as a charge,” I added, liking his idea. “But that will take a while. We don’t have a while.” I paced the room, thinking. Damnit, there was no way around this. “Do you need me to draw up the assembly plans?”
Yahweh blinked. “I assumed you would help me construct it.”
“No, I’m going out there.”
“What?”
“I’m grabbing my entourage and we’re going to bring down whatever’s sending off those bombs, or at least try to stall them. Where’s Oraniquitis?”
“I don’t know,” said Yahweh. “She disappeared the second Ezekiel was attacked.”
“Great. She sure has been a big help so far.” I sighed, heading for the door. “Get that particle smasher up and reverse the code for the ion shields. The halo should siphon out anti-ions and—”
Yahweh frowned, insulted. “Yes, I know. You can go now.”
“Awesome. Hurry.”
We left Seyestin to protect central command alone.
***
Lucifer Raith—;
“Ezekiel and her fleet are retreating, sir,” reported Caelis. “The carnifex is recharged and hot. Standing by for orders.”
I surveyed the remote navigations holo-map. Judas monitored the Gomorrah and her fleet remotely. “Move forward. Push them out of J
unah. Chase them back as far as they’ll run. Do not launch any weapons unless they attempt to regroup.”
“Sir,” obeyed Caelis, sending the command through his headset.
I switched feeds and dialed Gomorrah’s frequency.
“Commander,” greeted Ava. “We’ve received your orders and are in pursuit of Ezekiel.”
“Devise a second party and have them on transporters within half an hour. I’m sending the desired route and coordinates to your command line.”
“How many?”
“As many as you can afford; as many as deemed necessary to pincer Ezekiel from the Tehlor-Orias border.”
“Received your coordinates. I’ll let you know when they’ve left.”
“Thank you, Praetor.”
And now it was time.
***
Yahweh Telei—;
Seyestin pinged me. When I received his call, he told me there was a message pending from Judas. Lucifer was requesting a word.
I’d dreaded this moment only up until recently, having finally gotten over the shock of his betrayal. It wasn’t betrayal at all, really—;
It was something inevitable. Something from causality, from circumstance. Now he was knocking and I felt nothing at all.
I excused myself from the team of system and mechanical engineers rushing to build the smasher. We were still trying to come up with a plan of how to attach it to the propulsion motor without shutting Ezekiel’s engines down completely—since we were in the sky, on the run. This was something that should have taken weeks, not hours. The second I wasn’t there to mediate, the engineers began to argue heatedly, and I knew I couldn’t be long.
I took the call in the vacant conference room. By law, Commanders were given the right to interact privately, but only on neutral ground. I supposed that part of the rule could be waived, given the fact that neutral ground no longer existed between us. In fact, the Code was obsolete. There were no rules anymore.
Lucifer had beaten me to that conclusion.
“Greetings,” I said as his image flickered on the holosphere. “We’ll have to make this quick, since I must get back to fleeing from you.”
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 95
