by Matt Larkin
THE CONDUIT
The ship’s atrium was empty save for Knight and Phoebe. Quiet, the way Knight liked it.
Everyone had gone to be with their loved ones. Knight supposed they all had their personal struggles. Rachel had fought her private war in a universe that never believed her. Her husband fought a constant inner battle—as did Caleb, Knight supposed. A war to control their own bodies.
And Knight himself … well, he was now the most hated man in history. Even the other Sentinels on this ship looked at him with fear and disgust.
Knight shook his head and drew a hand along the back of Phoebe’s neck.
“Uh, ninja boy? If you’re planning a last romp before the big day, our quarters are a better idea. I mean, I guess there’s something erotic about doing it here in the atrium. David’s likely to be pissed as a polar bear getting a crew cut, though.”
Knight chuckled at the mental image. Phoebe was something else. He’d never met anyone like her in his life. And he never would again. “How’s the baby?”
“Pretty much the most awesome baby ever. I mean, what do you expect? Given his parents?”
He’d be a lucky kid, having her as a mother. “Phoebe … you should get off the ship.”
“Fuck no. It’s cold as the void outside.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean. Not happening.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You were the one lecturing me about endangering the baby when we went looking for the Lotan.”
“Yup. But if this fails, baby’s going to be in danger anyway. You know, what with the End of Days and all. That’s what all of this has been about, right?”
“Phoebe, I—”
“Nope.”
“Please—”
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head. “Not happening, big guy.”
He sighed. He’d known she would never agree, but he had to try. “Then there’s something else I need you to do.”
“Does it involve being naked?”
“No. Well, I guess you could do it naked. Rachel found Raziel’s schematics for the QEMP. Can you begin mass production? I want to make sure every Sentinel strike force is armed with one. If they can take down angels, they can take down Asherans or fallen angels too.”
Phoebe nodded, suddenly serious. Just one more thing to love about her. She could be ridiculous—until it really mattered. Then there was no one he’d rather have on his side.
“We’re going to need as many as you can make.”
She nodded, then smiled. “Let’s get some dinner first. Pregnant lady is hungry here.”
49
“Well, this looks like it might be it. I’d thought I had outsmarted them, picked a galaxy they wouldn’t bother with. But … my God … there are so many of them. Just … look at them all. If I don’t make it out of this, I want all of you to know that—”
Levi Meir, MNN field correspondent, final report
JUNE 1, 3097 EY — THE CONDUIT
Ten thousand ships left the Local Group under David’s command. The largest armada humanity had ever brought together for a single purpose. The most important battle in human history. Days flying the Conduit had worn everyone down, and so they paused outside a gate, recovering their strength for a few hours.
It left him with one last chance. Rachel had to stay on the Ark. She had to command it. And David was needed on the Sephirot, leading the fleet. The harsh reality was they couldn’t face this final battle on the same ship. Phoebe was capable, but David had to lead this thing himself.
So, for this brief respite, he docked a shuttle in the Ark’s hangar. One last moment alone together.
When the hatch popped, Rachel already stood in the hangar, watching him with a coy smile. She said nothing, just extended a hand toward him. He took it and followed her as she led him back to her quarters.
Leah had removed as many of his implants as she could. Still, some remained, and with every passing light-year, the voice of the enemy grew stronger in his mind. But he knew that voice now, and he would never give in again.
We know you are coming. You are nothing. Will be nothing. Your suffering will be eternal.
Bugger off.
The voice’s laughter echoed in his head but faded away.
The door opened to Rachel’s room. She’d brought in a table and lit it with candles. A spread of fresh fruits and spiced chicken filled bowls across the table. Oranges, apples, strawberries. The sweet smells mixed with the spicy aroma of chili pepper on the chicken.
“Did you make this yourself?”
She snickered. “I can cook, David.”
“I thought saving the universe was a full-time job.”
“I’m versatile.” She sat at the table, swiped a strawberry, then fed it to him.
Sweet juice tickled his tongue, and he shut his eyes, hoping to drink in only that sensation. To block the screams and pain and temptations that endlessly banged through his mind.
“Is it … bad?”
“What? No. Very fresh.”
“Not that—the implants. I heard about Caleb.”
David couldn’t blame Gavet. If it was an option, he’d do the same himself, accept the handicap and be glad of it. But even if Leah could remove the muscle grafts and metal on his bones, it would leave him an emaciated mess unable to rise from bed. And if this was the End of Days, he planned to face it on his feet. Armed and going down swinging—armed with the very enhanced strength they’d given him.
“Aye, Rach. It’s not the most fun I ever had, but I can handle it if I must. Helps when I’ve got such attractive distractions.”
“Distractions? You mean the strawberries.”
“Aye, could be.”
She laughed. “Well, if you want distractions …” She ran a thumb down her jacket, unbinding the nanobots to open it. Eyes locked on his and filled with mischief, she lifted the bottom edge of her undershirt, pulling it up to just below her breasts. “I bet this is distracting.”
“Aye, you’ve no idea.” Then again, she probably did.
He’d never get tired of looking at her. Rachel was beautiful—not just her body but her amber eyes. The way they sparkled when she was like this. The way they lit when she was fighting for what she believed in. She was a creature of passion like no other in this universe.
She laughed and fed him another strawberry.
“Rach,” he said, after swallowing it, “you want any chance of getting to the chicken, best put the dessert out of sight.”
“Okaaay. Just thought you wanted something to keep your mind off hell.” She giggled—Rachel actually giggled, God help him—and pulled her shirt down.
“Believe me. Hell’s completely out of my mind at the moment.”
Still smiling, she served chicken onto two plates and handed one to him. David let the scents waft over him for a moment before taking a bite. Just enough burn and awash in exotic flavor. Phoenix spice blend, if he wasn’t mistaken.
“Glad you like it.”
Sometimes, being with an empath had its advantages. She always knew when he really enjoyed something.
“When this is all over,” she said, “what are we going to do?”
“If we live—”
“Don’t talk like that. We’ll make it.”
“I guess I’ll need to help manage the new Sentinels. Lots of new recruits need training if we’re to put the galaxies back in order.”
“So … you’d be staying near Eden? I mean, when you make the new academy?”
David shrugged. “Not sure. Why, what’s on your mind?”
“Oh, just thought I might start a new university. The Republic could use some schools founded on modern thinking. Born of the new reality.”
“Angels above us. You’re already planning the next way you can save mankind from itself, aren’t you, lass?”
“Don’t call me lass.” Rachel grinned, then took her time chewing a bite of chicken before really answering. “So is that a problem?”
“No. One of the reasons I love you so much. One of a trillion.”
His wife smiled, hiding the hint of a blush. But it was the truth.
And she was right. They were going to get through this.
50
“The key to reversal of cybernetic enhancement seems to be cloned transplantation. Where the tissue becomes indistinguishable from the machinery, simply remove the affected area wholesale and replace with pre-cloned tissue from the subject’s own DNA samples. Thus far, we have successfully replaced eyes, adrenal glands, all four limbs, several hundred square centimeters of epidermis, and the hypothalamus. This process may not result in full recovery if areas of the brain responsible for memory and higher function are impacted. This poor soul got lucky. By mass, she’s 63 percent brand new, but she’s human again.”
Sentinel medical report on the cybernetic reversal of ex-Gibbor Zai
JUNE 10, 3097 EY — THE CONDUIT
Darkness was his world now. After so long with others in his mind, the quiet unnerved Caleb. To see nothing, to hear nothing, was peace. But lonely.
So he spent most of his days in the med bay. If he was honest with himself, he knew he played for sympathy, just for the chance for some company. Because Leah Suzuki did take pity on him. She was just that kind of person who couldn’t stand to see others suffer. Probably why she became a doctor.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Hmmm?” Her voice came from somewhere to the left. Probably at her desk.
She’d helped Caleb sit in one of the chairs. Most of the time, he didn’t go anywhere without Leah or one of her nurses. The computer’s voice could lead him to his quarters or the mess hall, of course. Sometimes, in his room, he had the computer talk to him. It really didn’t matter what it said. Just the sound of a human voice, artificial though it was.
He had his personal Mazzaroth—its voice that of a sultry woman—read him news reports. He’d never liked reading to himself. Now he never would. Apparently the advance on the Sculptor Dwarf had diminished significantly since the Adversary found out where they were going. Since Caleb had let slip the secret plan. He prayed to God the Adversary ships were too far behind David’s fleet to stop them.
“I was reviewing the data you gave me,” Leah said. “I’m still hoping to find a way to reverse what the Asherans did to David. The procedure does seem related to the experiments your company performed on the Gibborim. I spoke to a doctor on New Eden who actually managed to un-cyber one of the Gibborim Sentinel recruits.”
“Which one? Do you know his call sign?”
“Her. Zai, I think. And her name is Abigail. What was with the stupid call signs, anyway?”
“It was to dehumanize them, I think. They each represented a syllable—a vocalization of a single voice.”
“That’s barbaric.”
“Not my idea.” The Shadow Council had used the call signs for Gibborim since they were created, long ago.
Leah was silent for a moment. She said something over a comm he didn’t quite catch. Then she sighed, and he heard her move closer. She put a hand under his arm and guided him to his feet. “Rebekah is asking for you. Repeatedly, they say.”
“I don’t have anything to say to her.” Naamah had betrayed him and taken everything from him. She claimed to love him, yet she had done nothing to save all that mattered in the universe to him.
Ayelet. James. Miriam.
They were gone.
She’d done nothing to warn him of Apollyon. She’d done nothing to stop Caleb from letting the other angel put cybernetics in his head. Through lies and manipulation and lust, Naamah had helped Caleb down the road to hell. And just because she’d given them information now didn’t absolve her of that. No. The truth was, some sins could never be absolved. Some mistakes could never be corrected.
You just had to live with them.
“She might have more information, Caleb.”
Maybe. “I doubt it.”
“Caleb … there are few things worse in life than unrequited love. Whatever she’s done, I promise you she suffers now.”
Damn. Why did Leah have to be so understanding of everyone? Even him. “Fine. Okay, take me to her.”
Leah did, guiding him down the hall. Her touch was gentle—the only comfort he had left in life. Still, if he lived long enough to see Rachel and MacGregor win, he’d be glad of it. If he saw Apollyon fall, he would dance with joy.
And then they stopped, pausing outside what he assumed was her cell.
“Caleb?” Naamah’s voice. “Dear God, what have you done to yourself?”
He stared blindly at her. There was nothing to see. So little was left of himself, and he needed nothing more from her.
“Please, Caleb. I’m … sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, I love you. I know you can love me too. You always loved me.”
Caleb clutched Leah’s hand on his arm, saying nothing.
“I …” Naamah said. “I’m not one of the oldest ones, you know. I really was only around twenty when the war … when it turned. It turned on us. I didn’t know what it was, when it started speaking in my head. I didn’t understand, Caleb. I didn’t know how to fight against it—I didn’t know I needed to.”
“Fine. That doesn’t explain why it took you five billion years to wake up.”
“I was just a kid when it took me!”
Maybe she was. But Caleb would never look on Ayelet’s smile again. He would never hold Miriam in his arms. He would never see James go to university.
He pulled away from Leah to step toward the cell. “If you want forgiveness, angel … I suggest you ask God. I’m just a man, and I have nothing left to offer you.” He pressed his palm against the smart glass, feeling its chill.
In the darkness, he heard her soft sobs.
“Get me out of here,” he said to Leah.
She guided him away, back along a different route.
“We’re not going to the med bay.”
“No. You need to be in your quarters. I have to prep the med bay for casualties. Once the battle begins—”
The PA crackled on. “This is Captain MacGregor. We are arriving at the Great Attractor. All hands to battle stations.”
51
“The shield is a greater moral symbol than the sword.”
The Codex, Book of Zaqiel
THE GREAT ATTRACTOR
The Great Attractor stretched across the infinite horizon. Though David had seen it in his mind, seeing it in person was all the more horrible. A black hole unfathomably larger than the one that had swallowed the Balthazar. A monstrous hole in the universe—and now he knew the truth his heart had always felt. This was a gateway to hell.
The Sephirot drew closer to the mass of Lotan—visible only because of the modifications Phoebe had made to the scanners. The Adversary fleet, on the other hand, was all too apparent. They descended on the Lotan in an immeasurable horde. The Lotan jellyfish tore the Asheran ships to pieces with their tentacles, but they fared much more poorly against the fallen angels.
So close to the singularity, time dilated. David’s allies and enemies seemed to move in slow motion but began to speed up as the Sephirot closed into firing range. Of course, the reality was, he was actually entering the field of time dilation.
“How many are they?”
“Hard to get exact readings,” Phoebe said. “Maybe two thousand Lotan, and I’m guessing ten thousand in the enemy armada.”
Ten thousand. The same as the ships under David’s command.
JOIN US.
David recoiled as the voice echoed through his mind like a trumpet. This close to the Attractor, it was a cacophony that nearly blinded him with pain.
“Bring us in,” he said. “Prep all weapons.”
“Already done,” Phoebe said. “Gonna unleash hell. On hell.”
“Focus fire on the Adversary ships—use drones and defense batteries to manage the Asherans.” He tapped the console to address the fleet. “Chochmah and Binah groups, t
ake defensive positions around the Lotan. Chesed and Gevurah groups, engage the Adversary. Tiferet group, harry the Asherans and try to drive them off.”
“And me?” Rachel said over the comm.
“The Ark is going with us.” Going in deep.
A cluster of ten Adversary ships pummeled the Lotan trying to erect a seal. The jellyfish creatures didn’t implode on destruction—they shriveled into nothing and vanished from the scanners. One by one, the Lotan dropped off his screens.
David steered the Sephirot closer. “Full missile barrage, all tubes.” Time to soften them up.
Two hundred missile tubes launched their antimatter warheads among the Adversary. Many missiles were shot down, but others impacted the ship’s skins, doing minimal damage. It was fine. Just enough to weaken those kinetic shields.
The Ark swept the Wrath repeatedly across one of the Adversary ships. A second beam joined the first, then a third. The Adversary ship banked, trying to break contact. Before it could, the Wrath eroded away its hull. A second hole ruptured. Then the Adversary ship imploded.
Good work, Rach.
David strafed closer. “Pulse cannons. Focus fire on the nearest foe.”
YOUR SOUL IS OURS.
For a second, he blacked out, groaning at the pain.
“What the void!” Knight shouted.
David shook his head then realized he’d yanked the flight stick in his confusion. The Sephirot screamed by an Adversary ship, nearly colliding. The Adversary banked away, clearly thinking he meant to ram them. David jerked away himself, grunting and rubbing his forehead with his wrist.
Get it together.
“I carved them up pretty good with the laser batteries,” Phoebe said. “A little warning next time. You know, if you don’t mind.”
Laser batteries.
The Adversary hadn’t fired at them with laser batteries. If it was like the Ark, maybe it didn’t have them. It might have a defensive beam net, but that wasn’t as precise. Maybe they wouldn’t want to use such a weapon in close proximity to their allies.