by Matt Larkin
“Haven’t we wasted enough time out here? We should go back … to … my family.”
Rachel was off rotation. As usual. This had all been a colossal waste of time. And now Phoebe’s family was in danger.
Raziel had said the angels fought the Lotan, but that was God knew how long ago. Before the Exodus even. In all those thousands of years, they didn’t know if the creatures even still existed. Perhaps they had fled the Local Group. Phoebe needed him now.
“Yeah. We will.”
The hori stepped away and left the bridge, head high and shoulders taut.
“Fucking angels,” Knight said.
Some of the crew murmured at his blasphemy. Even now. Even after all that had happened—three thousand years of tradition had enslaved their very way of thought. They were fighting a war against the angels and still feared to speak ill of them.
“Fucking angels!”
He grabbed the edge of a console and squeezed. He needed someone to hurt. He needed to kill something. To do something.
And Phoebe needed him. He’d done what he had to for Rachel—all that and more. Phoebe was right—Rachel had become a guiding light for him. And now she was drawing him away from the things that mattered most.
“Hertz. Get us the void out of the Expanse. Take us back to the Milky Way, fast as you can.”
The captain nodded. Probably just as glad to get out of the Expanse as any of them. Zarethon had been a total waste. Maybe Ezra was lying, or maybe just relaying another rumor. Knight was done chasing rumors. He had a war to fight. And angels would tremble before he was through.
The console beeped, and Knight glanced down at it. It beeped again, a sound like a high-pitched pulsing.
“What is that?” Hertz asked.
“Commander Dana’s special scanner just picked something up,” their comm officer said.
Knight looked at the view screen. Nothing. Nothing was out there. But the scanner revealed the outline of a ship, fading in and out. The reading was faint, hard to tell what he was seeing … tendrils descending from a central sphere.
“Angels above,” the comm officer said. “Looks like a giant jellyfish.”
Knight didn’t know what that meant. The officer was a rahab, so probably some kind of underwater monster. “Hail them.” He tapped his comm. “Knight to Dana. Phoebe … you’d better come to the bridge. Right now.”
“Ensign, put the scanner readings on the screen,” Hertz said.
The rahab did, and the display showed the massive, tentacled creature.
“Holy universe …” Hertz said. “That’s really an alien life form.”
A few years ago, Knight would have said there was no such thing as aliens. Turns out they had existed not that far from Gehenna.
The screen flickered and filled with static. Then blackness, like the darkest water, shimmering slightly.
“They’ve broken into our data banks,” an officer said. “I can’t shut them out.”
“Don’t,” Knight said. “They’re probably trying to understand us.” This was what Rachel had sent them out here for. If the aliens had a way to communicate, all the better.
The bridge lift opened, and Phoebe walked back to his side, her mouth open and eyes wide.
“Holy universe …” she mumbled. Her hand slipped into his.
“What’s happening?” he whispered to her.
“I think they’re trying to send a signal we can process. They understand they exist outside our visual spectrum, but they want us to be able to see and hear them. I hope.”
“So we should do …?”
“Nothing. Maybe? Run like the void is at our heels? Pray? I don’t know, Knight.” She squeezed his hand.
A moment more, and the amorphous image began to solidify. The alien ship, if that was what they were seeing, seemed viscous. Several serpentine heads and necks leaned forward, coming into view, though they remained shadows. Impressions. Like holograms projected through water … translucent and otherworldly. Knight’s pulse quickened, and time began to slow. His natural reaction to danger. He could feel the increase of adrenaline, readying him for action. But he had no idea what step to take.
Phoebe squeezed his hand again. “You brought us here, big guy.”
Knight swallowed. He had. He had agreed to Rachel’s off-rotation plan without considering the risk. He dropped Phoebe’s hand and stepped forward. One way or another, he had to do this now.
“My name is Ezekiel Knight. Can you understand me?”
“I.”
“Understand.”
“You.”
Each word seemed to come from a different head, as though it was all one being. Could that be the case? Many heads of the same creature?
“Are you Lotans?”
“Yes. Human. I. Am. Lotan.”
A Lotan. So it was a single being. With seven heads? Or perhaps the entire ship was part of a single entity. If Rachel were here, she’d have a million questions. Actually, a million was probably selling her short.
“You know what we are?” he asked.
“You. Are like. The angels. But different.” The creature’s speech was slowly becoming more fluid. Continuous, as if it were assimilating their language.
“The angels have become our enemies. We know they were your enemies, as well.”
“They tried to enslave us. They created a universe. To fight us. It killed many of us before. It turned on them. They locked it away. We have the last lock now.”
The last lock? The last seal. The Lotan had taken the final angel station? Which must mean another had fallen while he was away. “What are you going to do with it?”
“We do not know. Angels tried to destroy us. Their creation tried to destroy us. Humans do not understand us.”
“We can try.”
“Then. Try.” The screen went dead.
Knight blew out a long breath. How the void had he become an ambassador?
He looked to Phoebe, who stood there, her mouth agape. An expression mirrored on the rest of the crew.
Outside, the enormous creature—ship?—shifted in the darkness. Seven translucent heads, all fixed upon the Wake of Stars.
26
“It is in the moment that the warrior thinks of his own death that it most often finds him. The greatest warriors accept their death as given and never allow another thought upon the subject. I will kill you every day until you believe your death.”
Sarah Oshiro to Ezekiel Knight (age 10), lesson accompanying corporal punishment
PEGASUS DWARF GALAXY
The Lotan had agreed to await Knight’s return. The aliens seemed surprisingly willing to cooperate. Assuming he could read them or their intentions at all.
Which he probably couldn’t.
But he had to get to the edge of the Expanse. From there, he could hit a Mazzaroth relay and contact Rachel.
Several hours in the Conduit had seemed longer.
Knight sat cross-legged on the floor of his suite.
He didn’t look at Phoebe, but he could feel her there, on the bed. Taking endless notes on the creatures. The Lotan.
“You know this is the most important discovery in human history, right?” she said. “I mean, except for the Ark, and the angels, and the Adversary itself. But since then, this is it. We are making history. You and me, Knight.”
“You sound like Rachel.”
“Yup, yup.” She mimicked Rachel. “Let’s make history and save humanity and go off rotation together! Plus, I figure we can start at least two wars before breakfast. And, Knight—” her voice returned to normal “—you know you’ll be punished for comparing me to her, right? I’m just making sure you know that. So you can’t complain you don’t understand me or something later.”
Knight shut his eyes. He tried to meditate, but his thoughts raced too quickly. Was the ship itself the Lotan or a mere extension of the alien’s being? Did more than one live in each ship, or were they single transports?
Still, those questio
ns paled compared to the greater ones. Even if the Lotan would help him, still the angels were out there. Conquering worlds. Worlds like Ekron. Phoebe tried to put up a brave front. She tried to keep herself busy—even Knight could see that much.
But they had taken everything from her. They had taken New Rome, the capital of her former empire. They had taken Hazaroth, where she had become a Sentinel. They had cost her the government she had sworn to uphold. And now angels had taken her homeworld.
If they took Gehenna, he’d be pissed … and Knight hated that place. So how much worse if they took a place he loved?
They had taken everything from her. And she was everything to him.
By God, he was going to make them pay. For three thousand years, angels had terrorized and dominated mankind under threat of the Adversary. But it was their Adversary to fear. Rachel was right. Mankind must stand on its own or lurk forever in the shadows of beings that would be gods.
Act or react. That was the only choice. As long as they were reacting, they were on the defensive. And the best way to overcome an enemy was to be where they least expected. To take the road they never imagined you’d take.
Knight sighed and rose, then moved to stand before Phoebe.
“I can see why the angels needed to create the Adversary to fight them,” Phoebe said. “Engaging creatures so hard to detect must have been … their ships are obviously organic, like the angels’. Assuming these are ships, not the Lotan themselves.”
Knight grabbed her and pulled her up into his arms. She shuddered, letting out a long breath and embraced him back.
She had been through too much. And it wasn’t done.
“I swear we will get your world back.”
“No signal has come in from my parents.” Her voice was barely a whisper against his shoulder.
“It doesn’t mean they’re hurt, love. It just means they don’t have Mazzaroth access. Could be Redeemers jamming outgoing signals.”
“Yup. Course. That makes sense.” She nodded and leaned into him. “Jamming. I’m sure that’s all.”
The Mazzaroth chimed. Knight turned to look at it. Rachel Jordan.
At last. She needed to know. She had to know before he acted. Then he had to go back to the Lotan. They were the key to ending this. All of it had started with them. The angels had found a foe they couldn’t overcome, and in their pride, created a weapon they couldn’t control. But the Lotan seemed to have no interest in humanity—other than mild curiosity.
“Receive call.” He pulled away from Phoebe to stand before the Mazzaroth.
27
“In ancient days, a man and a wolf each found themselves caught in hunters’ traps. Metal jaws with teeth bit down when stepped on, too strong to pry loose. The wolf struggled, and when it couldn’t get free, chewed off its own foot. Bleeding and hobbling, it loped off into the woods. The man watched this. He even had a knife with him. But he couldn’t cut off his foot. Couldn’t bear the idea. He feared the pain, the blood, the hobbling. That man died because his foot was too precious to him. We could cast aside the trap the angels have made for us. But no. We are a people who believe their feet are too precious.”
The heretic Nethanel Shimizu
MILKY WAY GALAXY
The screen flashed on, revealing Knight.
Rachel blew out a sigh of relief. “Knight. Thank God. I was worried. You … got my message? About Ekron?”
“We did.” Knight hesitated. “I found them, Rachel. The Lotan.”
Wow. Part of her hadn’t really expected him to do it. Knight described his encounter with the … creature … and Rachel simply could find no words. In the end, it really came down to one question, anyway. “Will they help us?”
“Maybe. I think they’re as confused as we are. As we were. But I know what I have to do.”
Rachel shook her head and tried not to laugh. “Great. At this point you’re probably the only person in the holy universe who can say that. So tell me, Knight. What should we do?”
Knight swallowed. “There’s only one choice, really. The angels are taking over the whole damned universe. The NER’s doomed, and Asherah will be destroyed.”
Rachel nodded. She could see it all happening. “That’s why we need the Lotan.”
“They’re aren’t the answer, Rachel. They don’t want to get involved. And we’re going to lose … unless the angels face an opponent more powerful than themselves. Unless they are forced to capitulate. Unless we force them to make a choice they’d never see coming.”
What the void did that mean? “Knight?”
“I’m going to destroy the last seal.”
“You … what?”
“I’m going to release the Adversary.”
“Wh-what?” Phoebe mumbled. “You’re going to do what the void now?”
Rachel sat there, mouth agape, shaking her head. He always wanted to do the unexpected, but that seemed … off rotation? The words hardly did his plan justice.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Rachel. Tell me the Adversary is not the one threat that would drive the angels away from their mission to enslave us.”
“It … makes a strange kind of sense, I suppose. The Adversary is just other angels, really.”
“So we let them destroy each other.”
Rachel swore under her breath. “Knight … people are not going to understand. They don’t like change, not like this. For thirty-one centuries, the Adversary has been the threat at our heels. The nameless fear that keeps children awake at night. The angels cast them as—”
“I know. They cast them the same way the Shadow Council cast the Gibborim. Ghosts in the darkness. A threat spoken of only in whispers … Rachel. We are failing. The angel tyranny is returning. David was … he fell trying to stop it. Ekron fell. We are going to lose the republic if nothing changes.”
And only a bold choice could change the future. But so far, every change Rachel had brought about had turned out for the worse.
Rachel sighed. “I don’t know whether you’re wrong or not, Knight. But one thing I do know. If you do this … if you open this door, you won’t be able to shut it again. A thousand generations will curse your name.”
People would not understand.
“I know. But sometimes you have to do what’s necessary, even if no one else can accept it. You taught me that. It’s for those generations we must open the door.”
“You are both off rotation,” Phoebe said.
Knight favored her with a smile before he turned back to Rachel. “You’ve taught me so much,” he said.
Rachel shut her eyes. “I could say the same to you. And I pray you’re right.”
There would be no turning back from this.
28
“They stood transfixed, gazing with unbelieving eyes upon the incarnate form of the Adversary’s agent. Only then did they understand the folly of disbelief.”
The Codex, Book of Azrael
ZARETHON SYSTEM, PEGASUS DWARF GALAXY
All his life, Knight had served the Shadow Council. He had spied and murdered in the name of petty warlords enforcing their petty rule over a hellhole of a world. And at long last, he had become something more. He had become a Sentinel. He had gone from the ghost in the dark to the guardian against the night. Humanity’s last line of defense against any threat.
For a moment, he watched the blank Mazzaroth screen after his call with Rachel ended. Then he looked to Phoebe.
“Oh no, big guy. This plan is on you. Not even Jordan could have come up with something like that.”
Knight nodded. Maybe that was why it had to be him. The one who would go where no one else would even imagine. He tapped his comm. “Knight to Hertz. Time to return to the Lotan.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Are you really going to do this?” Phoebe asked.
“I have to.” It was the last card he had left to play. Rachel had showed him that when you couldn’t accept the universe, you had to change it. One way or another, everything would
change tonight.
“Knight …” Phoebe said, when he turned to head back to the bridge. “This is just … I mean, it’s your call. But, what are we going to do, you know, after the angels are defeated?”
Knight paused with a sigh. He didn’t know. Maybe it would make things even worse … but to do nothing was the surest way to fail. Act or react. “This is the only play we have left. Whatever future we create, then we’ll deal with that.”
“I’m afraid.”
Not something he heard from hori Sentinel often. Knight kissed her forehead. The truth was—so was he.
As the Wake of Stars headed back to the Zarethon system, Knight and Phoebe returned to the bridge. No one spoke there.
It was like a profound unease had settled over the entire ship, and not a soul dared breach it. Knight smiled wanly. He ought to know better than musing over the emotions of others. It amounted to nothing, and besides, he wasn’t any good at it.
Instead, he scanned the faces. Phoebe, beside him, paler than usual and trying to look like she was focused on the iridescent Conduit streaming by. She was the only one who really knew what he intended.
Then there was Hertz, stern and resigned, like a woman facing a universe she didn’t understand but knew she could not escape. Maybe that was how her entire crew felt.
After a short jaunt, the ship jumped back through the gate.
The Lotan was there, waiting, all tendrils and translucent heads. A creature of shadow.
Like Knight.
Before he could even speak, the creature appeared on screen again. “Your decision is. Made.” Its heads bobbed when it spoke but not in any sensical order. As if a creature without a human body or even the understanding of one were trying to mimic human motions. And failing.
Yes. His decision was made. “I wish to be allies with the Lotan. To stop the angels, we must destroy their seal.”
“There is. Danger.”
There always was. “Yes. Take me there.”
