Sorrow's Fall

by Helen Allan

  Sorrow had already told him her friends would be able to understand his language easily, as all Red Leaders were implanted with a translation chip as children. Etienne and Raphael also had chips, courtesy of Sorrow, but Micah did not. His grasp on their language was due to the lessons Sorrow had given him over recent months; he still had much to learn.

  “And this is true?” Etienne turned to Sorrow now, his brows knitted in concern.

  “Yes.”

  “But you know, ma cherie, that when we blow this place every portal will disappear – there will be no leaving, you will never see your family again, your mother, myself.”

  “I know,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

  Ever since she had learned of her impending pregnancy with Micah and agreed to marry him, her biggest concern had been her mother. But she knew that deep down her mum would want her happy, no matter where she was, and that if she could impress upon Etienne her deep love for the Nãga prince and her joy at the prospect of being a mother – he would pass that onto Megan and help assuage her grief.

  “Come,” Etienne said now, standing and holding his hand out to her, “walk with me for a moment, ma beaute.”

  Sorrow nodded and rose, turning back to Micah momentarily.

  “Are you going to be…”

  Micah interrupted her with a smile, his eyes soft, “go. I’ll be fine.”

  “Perhaps,” Judgment frowned.

  Sorrow shook her head at him and followed Etienne.

  To say that Judgment and Raphael didn’t agree with her choice of lover, or decision to stay on a planet that was about to be nuked, was the understatement of the century. Only Etienne, her constant friend and confidante, had remained resolute about not voicing his thoughts. Until now.

  As they walked, he reached for her hand and tucked it through his arm.

  “Now, ma armour, not that I oppose you in any way, of course,” he smirked, “I want you happy and safe, you know that, but have you truly thought this through? You don’t have Stockholm Syndrome, for instance?”

  Sorrow burst out laughing.

  “I wasn’t really his prisoner from the moment I arrived,” she giggled, “we spent most of our time, once we realised our feelings for each other, at his barracks where I helped train cadets. Their world, Etienne, it is so beautiful, so very, very wonderful. You’d like it, you know; the ladies are gorgeous.”

  “Spined?” he cocked his head to one side.

  “Yes, but they only have sex to procreate, so you would have to introduce them to the pleasures of the flesh purely for sinful purposes…”

  “Indeed,” he drawled, “you do make their world seem an attractive proposition…but, I sense you and your prince are closer than mere bed partners.”

  “He is wonderful, Etienne, we have spent pretty much every moment of the past few months getting to know one another, I, I love him.”

  “He must be a very interesting man to have managed to capture your heart,” he smiled gently, “and I don’t want to intimate anything to the contrary, however, ma cherie, we both know that you have sometimes,” he held her by the arm as she turned to walk away, holding her still, “sometimes been a little blind to the flaws of the partners you choose. You tend to see the best in people, Sorrow.”

  “He is carrying my children,” she said, turning to face him and looking into his eyes.

  “Oh, my sweet, beautiful girl,” he sighed, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly, “I am so very happy for you.”

  She smiled as she stood in his embrace, happy tears beginning to form, and sad tears at the thought of leaving him, her best friend, someone who understood her so well and so deeply.

  “Six,” she sniffed, pulling back from him and wiping her tears with hasty fingers, “we are going to have six little Nãga-humans, well, half-human-Nãgas.”

  “Mon Dieu!” Etienne frowned, looking down at Sorrow’s flat stomach, “how far gone are you?”

  “Not me,” she laughed, “him.”

  Seeing Etienne’s shocked expression, she burst out laughing, her giggles echoing through the cavern and drawing the eyes of nearby findailes and red guards.

  “No!” he exclaimed.

  “Oh, yes. He has them inside him, growing. When we return, in about a week, they will be due to be transferred to me – I will incubate them for a few months and then give birth to them.”

  “But you are so petite….” Etienne frowned, “six, ma cherie, what are you thinking?”

  “No,” she shook her head, her laughter causing her to clutch her stomach in mirth. “They are tiny, about the size of kittens. They are born with teeth; they can eat straight away, walk straight away – so much more advanced than humans.”

  “But yours will be different,” he frowned, trying to catch her eyes and force her to be serious, “they are part god, part human, part Nãga. What if they grow to the size of house cats, and not kittens – how will you birth six?”

  “I imagine I will have a caesarean if necessary,” she frowned, “the Nãga are highly advanced. Their surgery and general medical skills seem far more sophisticated than those on Earth. I have so much to learn still about them…but Etienne, is my giving birth what you are really worried about?”

  “I will miss you,” he said, quietly, pulling her once again to him.

  “And I you, French man,” she said, all laughter gone from her voice as she hugged him tightly in return and rested her head on his shoulder, “more than you know.”

  They parted without further words and walked back to where the others waited. The logistics needed to be arranged, time was running short, and so far, Sorrow’s plan, the only plan she had been able to hatch, was risky at best.

  13

  She waited in the dark, crouched behind a tall building for Etienne’s signal.

  Her breath frosted in the crisp desert night air.

  Behind her, she heard soft cries and titters from the skinless women and turned quickly to put her finger to her lips in what she hoped was a signal they understood to shut the fuck up.

  Everything hinged on them getting into the nursery and then beyond to the hangars undetected – everything. When dawn came, the portals would open, and all hell would break loose, she had just two hours, that was all Judgment had given her, to rescue those she could.

  Finally, just when she imagined she could begin to see the faint glow of dawn on the horizon, she saw the nursery office lights flick on and off again three times, and she knew Etienne and Raphael had succeeded in the first part of their mission.

  Whether Judgement and his new second in command, Tribulation, and the third pilot, Determination, had made it to the hangars and secured the necessary aircraft was unknown. She had not seen an alert raised and had to hope this was a good sign.

  Rising from where she hid, she signalled to the skinless women to run and, as one, they pelted across the cobblestone square towards the nursery, some, heavily pregnant, lagging behind but being hurried by others who took them by the elbows and virtually carried them at a jog across the square.

  “About time,” she hissed to Etienne as she held open the double doors and ushered the women through. They crammed in like sardines, several hundred in all, and spilled through into nearby rooms, standing quietly, awaiting instruction.

  “It was harder to disable the goddess working behind the counter than we thought,” he murmured.

  “Disable? I told you to shoot the bitch and send the signal, what part of ‘kill’ don’t you understand?”

  “Since when have you become so bloodthirsty?” Raphael whispered, his face dark, “you do realise we have fucking lived here for more than 12 months and spent a great deal of time with these women?”

  “So what,” Sorrow hissed, “she is a monster, they all are. Are you telling me you screwed her, so you couldn’t kill her?”

  “Something like that,” Etienne muttered.

  “Where is she? I’ll do it myself.”

  Etienne and Raphae
l looked at one another, clearly torn, before Etienne shrugged and led Sorrow into an adjacent room where a goddess lay tied up with electrical cords on the floor, gagged with her golden belt.

  Sorrow stalked towards the woman, soup gun on silent and at the ready, when, seeing the god’s face she gasped.

  “It can’t be.”

  Backing out of the room, she shut the door and turned to her friends.

  “Do you know who that is?”

  “She is the guardian, and a god,” Raphael shrugged, “I’ve spent a lot of time with her, she asks for us both regularly, more to talk than to fuck – I like her, Sorrow, I couldn’t kill her.”

  “The guardian? Holy Jesus. She’s no ordinary god,” Sorrow said, casting a quick glance at the skinless crowding the corridors and looking increasingly terrified as they waited for her orders, “it’s Nephthys.”

  “The Nephthys?” Etienne gasped.

  “The one and only.”

  “You are sure.”

  “I’ve lived her memories like they were my own when I was in the regeneration tank – I’d know her anywhere.”

  “What is she doing here?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Last I heard she was travelling with Osiris to Heaven to give birth to her son – I don’t need to remind you who that was. But she did say she was planning to continue the search for her daughter, stolen by Shu and Tefnut for their breeding program.”

  “That’s why she is here then,” Raphael said, shrugging. “So, what do we do with her?”

  Sorrow took a deep breath and returned to the room, kneeling down beside the god she ripped her gag off and eyeballed her.

  “What are you doing here, Nephthys? How is it you are the guardian for your enemy’s breeding program?”

  She shook her head, cleared her throat and struggled to sit.

  “Stay down,” Sorrow growled, pushing her back to the floor, “I’m only going to ask you this one more time. What are you doing here?”

  “I know about your little insurrection,” she said, her voice high-pitched, sounding more like it belonged to a little girl than a woman thousands of years old, “I wish to join you in your attack on the portals.”

  Sorrow felt all the blood drain from her face.

  “How do you know of our plans?”

  “Tefnut does not know I am here. He has no idea an enemy sleeps in his bosom. But he has been here, at The Finger, bolstering security and asking questions. Reports went to him that several slaves had disappeared – in 900 years, I have not seen him here, but three times he was present over recent weeks. I must leave before I am discovered.”

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Sorrow pressed her gun to the woman’s temple.

  “I only know the rumours, that an attack on the portals will be made, perhaps the biggest yet, and that Tefnut is prepared. He will lead the army himself to secure his gates. They are ready for you this time, but he will not expect you to rescue his tiny red leaders, and he will not expect to see me. When he does, I want it to be the last thing he ever sees.”

  Sorrow sat quietly, thinking through this new information. They had been compromised, that much was certain.

  “Where is your daughter?” she asked quietly.

  “Dead,” Nephthys said bitterly, “she killed herself when she realised what she was going to be used for. She was dead long before I arrived here.”

  “And yet, you’ve been here 900 years? Working for the freak who stole your children and used you as an incubator?

  “He never knew I was here,” she snorted, “I came to find my daughter. When I found out what had happened, I determined to wreak my revenge. I have a long memory Sorrow, and nothing else to live for, and besides, had I left before now he would have known and hunted me; he is all-powerful in this galaxy. Now though, I feel I have done all I can on this planet, I wish to go with you, to join Osiris and move ahead with our plans.”

  “Does Osiris know where you are?”

  “Yes, we work to a common cause.”

  Sorrow said nothing. Osiris was on Earth as a prisoner of her mother, and from what she had been told, his will was bent on the destruction of Seth – if anything he said could be believed. But there were too many unanswered questions here.

  She considered her prisoner. She had a long memory too, and her memory was crystal clear when it came to who Nephthys son was, hadn’t she watched his head get chopped off on Heaven – hadn’t she been married to him for two years? Hadn’t she feared him for just as long?

  And if Nephthys was in contact with Osiris, they must have known the Gharial were coming to Heaven. Was it she who warned the Earthborn? And if Osiris and Anhur and Nephthys were working to a common end, why had Anhur tried to kill Osiris and to undermine him on Heaven at every turn? No, something didn’t add up, but she had no time to try and fill in the pieces of the puzzle now. She knew this woman was a viper, as all the gods were, to have raised such a son she could not be anything else – yet part of her also wanted to know more about the gods; Could this woman help her utterly destroy them all?

  ‘Shit, what do I do? What do I do? Mum would tell me to trust my instincts. This god has Anhur’s eyes…’

  “Why would I trust you?” Sorrow frowned, “you are working in the nursery. You, who know what it is like to have children taken from you for evil purposes – you know where these boys are destined, you know they are using the eggs of other gods to undertake this filthy breeding program.”

  “Yes,” she nodded “I know all that. So did you.”

  Sorrow hissed.

  ‘Had Nephthys known she was working in the infirmary as a spy all this time? And if so, who had she told? Could their entire plan be in jeopardy?’

  As if reading her thoughts, Nephthys continued.

  “You also know, Sorrow, that some of the red leaders question Tefnut’s war. Some of their findailes also question, some dissent, some work actively against him from the inside – why do you think that might be? Who might have orchestrated that, daughter of Amun?”

  Sorrow caught her breath.

  “I do not answer to that name.”

  “And I do not answer to the name of great-granddaughter to Amun, yet his blood runs in my veins, as it does yours; we are related, I seek to help you if you will help me – daughter-in-law.”

  Sorrow froze.

  “You know I was married to Anhur?”

  “I know he loves you.”

  “He is dead.”

  “No,” she smiled, “he lives, and he forgives you, as do I. Let us work together, Sorrow. Free the galaxy from the tyranny of those who seek to destroy the likes of you and my darling boy.”

  Sorrow gritted her teeth.

  “I watched Anhur die, not 24 months ago.”

  Nephthys shook her head.

  Etienne poked his head in the door.

  “Sorrow, the babies are stirring, it must be time for a feed or something. We need to move.”

  Sorrow rose, nodding, and slipped Nephthys gag back onto her mouth, ignoring her muffled, angry cries.

  Stalking back into the corridor, she firmly shut the door behind her and turned to the skinless.

  “Each of you must carry one baby in a baby carrier strapped to your back or front, and one small boy. It will not be easy – we must tell them it is a drill, a test, and they must stay silent.”

  The skinless nodded, some looked absolutely terrified, others resolute.

  “When we get to the hangars, there is a possibility there may be gunfire. Stay down and hidden until I signal, then run to the aircraft I indicate. Do you have any questions?”

  None of the women raised their hands. Sorrow could see the hearts beating madly inside the chests of those nearest to her.

  “What about Nephthys?” Raphael asked.

  “She will burn with those left behind,” Sorrow said, her voice and eyes cold. “Nothing these gods say can be trusted – nothing.”

  Etienne looked concerned but stayed silent as
Sorrow opened the door to the first baby room and ushered the skinless in.

  “Ten minutes,” she whispered urgently to them as they walked through, “we have ten minutes to clear this entire building of children – hurry.”

  More skinless ran upstairs to the toddler wing, returning with time to spare with sleepy little boys, most silent, some wriggling and fighting the women holding them, most though, compliant.

  “Come,” Sorrow said when they were all once again crowded in the foyer and hallway of the nursery entrance, “to the spacecraft.”

  “What did she say to you, to make you so determined for her die, ma minette?” Etienne whispered as they ran.

  “She said Anhur was alive.”

  Etienne growled low and said nothing else.

  “Who is Anhur?” Raphael asked, keeping up easily with their strides.

  “My husband,” Sorrow spat.

  Judge and his small team had exceeded expectations in capturing not one, but two spaceships with no resistance lives lost, and Sorrow watched as the last of the skinless and their young charges ran up the ramp and into the belly of the first.

  The plan had been to take one craft to rescue the skinless and act as a backup escape craft should something untoward happen to the first. The first, the resistance already had hidden in the mountain and loaded up with some 300 fighters, their trainees and findailes, ready to raid the armaments factory and storage shed and take hold of a nuclear weapon, or two, the moment the portals opened.

  Now though, the plan had changed.

  “Since we were successful in stealing two aircraft, one will fly to the mountain and transfer on board those findailes and trainees who will not take part in the raid for weapons. The other containing these skinless and children will hover, cloaked and shielded above the mountain. When the portals open and the battle begins, both will shoot to space, to safety. The third will take the nuclear team to raid the weapons and return to pick us up at the portals and drop the bomb from the air. If the worst happens and our nuclear team or those of us fighting around the portals go down, some at least, the findailes, skinless and children, will be spared,” Judge said quietly.