The Wrath of Artemis: Fantasy in the Classical Age
Date: 2023-08-08 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Cyberpunk; Galactic Empire; Metaphysical; Dystopian; Literature & Fiction; Science Fiction & Fantasy; Science Fiction; Metaphysical & Visionary
Description: A fury fit to topple an Age arises After millennia of ruling alongside them, Artemis can no longer abide the corruption of the Olympian order. To bring down Zeus and his brethren, Artemis will spark a war the likes of which has not been seen since the days when gods battled giants. And once more, Pandora finds herself caught in the middle, forced to choose sides and certain that, whichever she choses, those she loves will suffer and die for her choice.
Publisher: Incandescent Phoenix Books

ECHOES OF ANGELS

Sins of Angels Book 1

MATT LARKIN

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 MATT LARKIN

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Edited by Brenda Pierson

Cover by Juhi Larkin

Published by Incandescent Phoenix Books
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For Brian, for making sure a fantasy geek was also a sci-fi geek.

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ECHOES OF ANGELS

CHAPTER ONE

September 21st, 3096 EY, the journal of Rachel Jordan:

I’m keeping this journal as a scientific record of what I believe will be the most important discovery since the Exodus from Eden more than 3000 years ago. I have arrived on planet Gehenna in pursuit of a lead pertaining to the Sefer Raziel. This unlikely world with no strategic value may well become the site of the transformation of mankind.

Gehenna stank. The breather Rachel suctioned over her face allowed her to survive the planet’s sulfuric vapors and toxic atmosphere, but it didn’t quite cut out the smell—a blend of rotten eggs and a chemistry lab.

She cast a glance over her shoulder and quickened her steps down the road. Maybe there was no one back there, but she couldn’t be too careful. Every time she stepped outside there was a chance they would find her.

Still, she had to eat, and there was no way she was taking another meal in that hotel. No matter the situation one found oneself in, one had to live. Even on a planet with a red, ash-filled sky.

The Babel Bazaar was famous, or perhaps infamous, as an underground hangout for all walks of life. The entrance, just ahead, looked like a many-tiered spire. It might have seemed tall, if not for the buildings around it. The soot-colored skyscrapers rimming the street stretched a hundred or more stories up, shadowing the already dark streets of Beeroth.

Rachel slapped the buzzer and the airlock slid open. A moment after she stepped through, the outer door resealed itself and a wave of pressurized air washed over her. She waited a few breaths before releasing the suction on her breather. A few minutes of Gehennan air probably wouldn’t kill her, but why take the chance?

The inner door slid open and she was struck by a barrage of noise, sights, and smells. Just down the stairs, people hawked wares in crowded aisles, cafes offered everything from coffees and liquors to full meals, and nearly nude prostitutes beckoned men and women alike. Rachel shook her head, smirking. Her father would have a conniption if he saw this place. A ‘den of sin,’ he’d call it.

The airlock opened again behind her. Rachel stepped back against the wall, hand on the MAG strapped to her thigh. A couple, probably around her own thirty years, strolled in and almost immediately followed one of the prostitutes behind a closed door.

She had to get a grip. The Redeemers might have followed her to this planet. Maybe. But they weren’t here right now. The people walking behind her weren’t Redeemers. The thought of Redeemers searching this place almost—almost—made her smile. Speaking of people who would lose their shit in the Babel Bazaar. But such mirth was short-lived. If they found her, she’d wish she were dead.

Rachel waded into the crowd, keeping toward the center of the aisle until she spotted a sign for “Gourmet Triangulum Food”. Perfect.

Gehenna wasn’t part of the Mizraim Empire, so maybe she could actually find some decent Asheran food here. Not that foreign food was illegal in Mizraim, it was just so hard to come by. She slipped inside the restaurant. The owner probably intended the dim lights to be relaxing, but since he had no music playing and they were already underground, it seemed more oppressive to Rachel than anything. But she was here, so she sat at a table in the back, one where she could watch the door.

A digital display lit up on the tabletop as soon as she sat. Funny, on such a backwater planet, she’d almost expected a human to come take her order. Some of the places she went for archaeological digs still did that. She swiped through the pages and tapped on Asheran hot noodles. Something spicy would do nicely.

Ten minutes later, a girl dropped a plate of steaming noodles on the table. “Need anything else?”

Rachel needed a lot of things right now. “I’m looking for some information.”

The girl leaned in, looking Rachel right in the eye, but said nothing. Emotions roiled just behind her eyes. Greed, opportunity, an edge of fear covered with bravado. Rachel wasn’t much of a Psych, really, but she was a strong enough empath to get an idea when people were focused on her. And this girl saw a mark.

Rachel smirked and slipped the waitress a kesitah. She’d imprinted dozens of the local currency chips with small bribes for these situations. Kesitahs came cheap compared to Mizraim credits anyway. Her server pressed her thumb to the metal to check its value, then smiled like a kid with her first set of holo glasses. “Talk to Ariel, down on the second sub-level. Tell her Judy sent you.” With that, the girl spun and walked away.

Rachel tapped the water dispenser on the table and filled her glass, then sampled the hot noodles. The startling sensation of cayenne, citrus, and Triangulum bubble sauce washed over her tongue. Yeah, she’d missed this food. Yet another thing her family would likely rake her over the coals for, if they knew.

Dear old Dad called the entire Asheran Confederacy khapiru, and said they were headed straight to hell. Of course, when people talked about hell, they probably had Gehenna in mind. In the Days of Glory the planet had been a penal colony for those foolish enough to anger the Angels. In the six hundred years since the Vanishing, the world had become an independent entity. Independent because neither the Mizraim Empire nor the Asheran Confederacy would take in a toxic hellhole on the edge of the Expanse of Nod.

When she’d arrived here a few days back, Rachel had found one of the least-crowded spaceports she’d ever seen. No one in their right mind came here. Which probably meant she was a bit off rotation, too. But if the Sefer was really here … well, she’d travel to hell and back to find it.

After finishing her noodles, she left the restaurant, her fingers brushing over her MAG as she returned to the breezeway. Couldn’t be too careful. She watched the people as she headed toward the stairs to the lower level.

A pair of soldiers in feature-concealing body armor strolled by, the crowd parting around them like a river flowing around rocks. Their armor was chromed, even the faceplates, so Rachel couldn’t judge much about them. They wore the insignia of the Gehennan government, a pegasus. As though Gehenna were claiming rights to the whole Pegasus Dwarf galaxy. Never mind that ninety percent of it was ruled by the Mizraim Empire. Rachel smirked and kept her head down. Everybody had pride.

Something brushed against her side. She spun, but whoever it was had already disappeared into the crowd. One of the purses of kesitahs was missing from her jacket pocket. She scowled, scanning the crowd but knowing it was in vain. The money didn’t matter much, but she’d let someone walk up and touch her, then get away without a trace. This place was too crowded. There was no way to keep track of everyone. Any one of those people could be a Redeemer.

She suppressed a shudder. She was being paranoid. A Redeemer would likely be beside himself with apoplexy here. Not too hard to spot. Still, she hurried down the stairs to the next sub-level. An Angelologist had to go where the leads were. If she could brave this planet, she could handle a crowded bazaar.

Angel technology had advanced mankind thousands of years, maybe tens of thousands. But now the Angels were gone and they hadn’t shared freely. And Rachel intended to see mankind reap the full benefit of two and a half millennia of servitude to that theocracy. Days of Glory, indeed.

The second sub-level was much like the first, except numerous side halls broke away, creating a series of loops that would make it easier to get lost down here. And this wasn’t the kind of place she should just stop and ask someone for help, though it was as thick with people as the first level. Apparently, she should have gotten more information from that serving girl. With a sigh, Rachel strode down one of the halls. She passed a weapon shop that, oddly, had more knives than MAGs. Who carried knives? Curiosity almost made her stop inside and ask what the point—no pun intended—of a knife was. But that wasn’t why she was here.

She continued on until she spotted a woman hovering in the shadows by a closed door. Could be Ariel. Or could know how to find her if she wasn’t. All right then, time for business. Rachel squared her shoulders and strode straight for her.

As if from nowhere, a man stepped in front of her. “I got what you’re looking for, long hair.”

“How do you know what I want?”

The man sneered. “I just know, whatever it is, I got it.” His emotions were a roil of filth—lust, greed, a burning desire for violence. Rachel had known too many men like him.

“Is that Ariel?”

The man glanced back at the woman in the shadows. “I don’t know her name, long hair. But she’s already got what you need. I mean, look at her. Look at the peace on her face. I got that for you.” The man winked at her. He was probably in his late thirties—it was hard to tell—and had fairly fine clothes. The vest could have been nanomesh, or it could have been real leather.

“I don’t think I’m looking for the same thing she is,” Rachel said, and backed away toward the center breezeway.

The man edged around her. “You ever tried Mammon, long hair?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. Her hair wasn’t even that long—halfway down her back at most. She opened her mouth, but the dealer just kept talking.

“Makes you fly, right? One drop under the tongue and you’d get a glimpse of heaven like the Angels always promised. Better than sex, girl … but no reason you can’t have both.” The man reached a hand toward her shoulder. His desire rolled off him in waves, enough to turn her stomach.

Rachel slapped the hand away and pulled her MAG, pointing it at the man’s chest. “Thanks anyway, but you’re not my type. And melting my brain with designer drugs is not something I aspire to. Now back off.”

The man ground his teeth, eyes darting down to the gun only briefly. “Offworlder, huh? Think you can just come in here, waving that around? Probably already saturated with the air outside, ain’t it?” The dealer reached for her gun.

Rachel pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. The rail didn’t even hum. It should have hummed the moment she drew it. Rachel felt a sudden chill.

The dealer grabbed the MAG in one hand, a knife appearing in the other.

“You don’t want to play nice, long hair? Fine. I bet after a few tastes of Mammon, you’ll be back begging me for more. Or maybe I’ll just sell your tight Mizraim tail to some suit who needs a bit of fun on the side, huh?”

Rachel tried to back away, but he had a solid grip on her MAG, and she couldn’t lose that. He leaned in closer, like he was going to sniff her hair or something. Rachel kneed him in the groin.

The man crumpled to the ground and lost his grip on the gun. Rachel yanked it away and ran back toward the breezeway. A heartbeat later, a shout went up behind her.

“Cut the bitch!”

Well, damn. Rachel threaded her way into the crowd. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people roamed this bazaar. She just needed to blend with them. She buttoned her coat to cover her fine green shirt. Most of the locals dressed in black, brown, or other drab colors. While she walked she tucked her hair into the back of her jacket. Let him find his “long hair” now.

She made her way to the opposite side of the breezeway, where the crowd flowed back up the stairs. The meeting with Ariel would have to wait.

First, she needed to get clear of this place. And figure out what in the holy universe had happened to her MAG.

CHAPTER TWO

Abandoned Angel tech may have initially advanced mankind by millennia, but Angel theology must have ultimately stunted our technological growth. The Covenant itself serves as the root of stagnation in our development, but is hardly the only problem.

She really was off rotation. Of course a place like that had drug dealers. It wasn’t like Rachel hadn’t visited seedy planets before. Most of her investigations took her to the edges of the Empire and beyond. She’d even been to the Triangulum galaxy once, not that she’d admit crossing the Asheran border out loud.

The moment she returned outside she caught herself almost running down the street. It was time to get a handle on this. She’d look a lot more like a victim running through these dirty streets than she would walking at a steady pace. She tried to breathe deeply. The breather over her nose and mouth was stifling, but she didn’t dare remove it. Instead she pulled her hair free and walked calmly to the monorail station. There was no airlock here, just a tunnel leading down to the underground train. Ash covered everything. She glanced at the rusty metal benches. No. Better to wait standing than get that stuff all over her clothes.

Her clothes … Angels above, she hoped she wouldn’t have to buy a nanomesh vest herself. She’d rarely found body armor necessary, but if she was going back to the Bazaar, she needed to be prepared.

The monorail shrieked as it arrived, the mind-grating sound of metal on poorly maintained metal.

More Gehennan soldiers departed the train alongside other passengers. Rachel slipped onto the train as soon as the last of the passengers exited, then grabbed the handrail. A train like this didn’t have inertial negation. Even prepared for it, the sudden jolt almost made her lose her footing. On New Rome, a rail could go a thousand kilometers per hour or more and you’d never even feel it. This train couldn’t have been doing more than five hundred, and still it shook.

People had to make do with what they had, she supposed.

It took only a couple of minutes for the train to drop her at her stop on the other side of Beeroth. Gehenna only had a few chief cities—volcanic calderas covered half the planet—and Beeroth was the largest, so she’d started her search here. Somewhere on this planet she’d find the Sefer, and through it, proof she was right all along. Proof it hadn’t all been for nothing.

On exiting the station, Rachel headed straight for her hotel. She’d had enough excitement for one night. God, she needed a shower. The air made her skin feel grimy.

She stepped into the hotel airlock and waited for the whoosh of clean—or semi-clean, at least—air. If this place, the Sheik, was the nicest hotel on Gehenna, she didn’t want to see the dumps. It had a lobby that passed for clean, at least on this planet, and a bar. That was pretty much it for amenities.

Her breather hissed when she released its suction, waiting for the airlock to open. Actually, maybe she’d grab a drink before she headed up. It had been a long day.

The airlock door slid to the side and she strolled into the hotel, the knot in her shoulders finally releasing. Other guests stood at the front desk. No matter how pathetic this planet seemed, people still came here. Or maybe they were just from one of the other cities.

A man standing near the counter turned and looked right at her. His coat fell open, revealing his vest—and more importantly, the insignia on it. A man on bent knee. Redeemer.

Rachel reached for her MAG. The one that wasn’t working. Her breath caught in her throat.

The Redeemer pointed at her. “Surrender, khapiru! Or be judged!” He drew a stun baton from his coat. With a jerk it doubled in length, reaching out a half meter.

Rachel spun and threw herself back into the airlock. She smacked the buzzer and the door whooshed closed. The Redeemer ran for her, but not even he could override an airlock count. The man pressed his face against the glass panel and glared at her. Her heart beat so fast it felt like it would explode. Rachel reattached her breather and gave the fanatic the finger. If he caught her, a minor taunt would be the least of her worries.

The airlock opened. Rachel took off at a dead run. They were here, in her hotel. These weren’t some drug dealing thugs, these were Redeemers. They knew where she was staying, they knew what she was after. And they would not stop. Ever.

Angels damn them all.

She ran into the busiest street she could find. It was late, but she wasn’t alone. Dozens still walked the sidewalks, and hovers zoomed through the road itself. Still, she didn’t have much time. Where there was one Redeemer, there would be an entire Heart. Seven fanatics all willing to go to any length to catch her.

She paused outside a building bearing the sign of Manna Products. So the megacorp sold food even here. Rachel turned to look behind her. Men were already running in her direction, and if they hadn’t seen her yet, they would. They always did.

She activated the comm in her ear. “Get me the local Manna Products security office.”

Two seconds later a voice came over the comm. “Manna Products, how may—”

“Oh my God!” Rachel shouted. “There’s a bomb in the building! They, they … I heard them! Asheran terrorists said they’d blow it if—”

Rachel tore her ear comm free and crushed it. It would be useless now anyway. A corp like Manna Products would trace it in minutes. She threw it away. Seconds later, a stream of people spewed out of the building. Thousands of employees, all evacuating. It didn’t matter whether the execs believed the threat; the megacorp would never ignore it.

Rachel forced her way against the crowd and into the building. Let the damn Redeemers follow her in here. She wound her way through the halls, at first fighting the fleeing crowd, then joining them when she found a flow headed toward the parking garage in the basement.

Someone jostled her against the wall. People were screaming, pushing, crying to get out. She’d panicked a lot of people today. Yet another thing she’d probably rot in hell for.

As soon as she could, she dashed into the open garage and ran for the ramp. By the time the Redeemers sorted through this mess she’d be on the other side of the city.

A hovercar damn near ran her over as she scurried up the ramp. Rachel dove to the side, but didn’t bother cursing a driver who would never hear her. Pedestrians weren’t supposed to be on these ramps anyway. She stuck to the side and climbed out, then ran to the sidewalk on the far side of the building.

Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. Cold sweat trickled down her scalp. She’d left most of her gear in that hotel. The Redeemers had it now.

Her shoulder hurt where she’d been smashed into the wall. She prodded it gingerly while making her way through an alley. That would leave a bruise.

She’d have to find a place to lay low. How had they found her so quickly? Of course they were looking for her, of course they didn’t want her to find the Sefer … though you’d think a religious group like that would want to uncover lost Angel relics.

They always said it was outside human purview. Whatever that meant.

But she was kidding herself if she thought she could work with them hounding her every step. Maybe it was a mistake to come here. Maybe she should have listened when David told her to stop her foolish pursuit. Maybe she should have listened to everyone. If the whole universe thought you were off rotation, maybe it wasn’t them.

She waved down a cab. The Gehennan hovercars didn’t fly much more than a few meters off the street, so it was easy to spot the cab with its sleek chrome finish—albeit one marred by soot. The driver popped the door and she hunkered down in the back seat.

“A hotel in the north district. A nice one.”

A headache started to form behind her eyes. The Redeemers always did that to her. She could almost hear her father lecturing her about the sins of modern people, about the Covenant. Three Commandments the Angels gave mankind, three rules they required, in exchange for saving humanity from the Adversary.

Rachel shook her head. The Commandments were one thing—a questionable one at best—but the Redeemers were another. They believed everything the Angels had ever said about being God’s Voice, and they took it to the extreme. Angels gave us what technology we were meant to have, they said. Angels told us how to live.

But the Angels were gone, and good riddance. For all of recorded history, the Angels had ruled absolutely and without tolerating questions. Anyone who troubled them wound up in a place like Gehenna. And then the Angels just left humanity. The Angels left, and some people expected mankind to take everything they ever said as gospel from God’s mouth. But that kind of thinking had held mankind back for the last six hundred years.

Oh, rumors abounded about Asherah and the experiments that went on there. Some said they even violated the Commandments. She’d been to Triangulum, but never Asherah itself. Still, it was hard to believe cyborgs walked the streets in broad daylight there.

Regardless, nothing Asherah had would compare to the value of lost Angel tech. The Redeemers might curse it, call it blasphemous, but the other corps in the Conglomerate paid her very well for her finds. If she found the Sefer, it could lead her to the Ark. And that wouldn’t just earn her enough money for ten lifetimes, it would change the fate of humanity. It could finally help them silence the echoes of the Angels’ millennia-spanning tyranny.

She couldn’t let the Redeemers win. The future of humanity depended on it.

CHAPTER THREE

Approximately a hundred and fifty years ago, seven megacorps joined together to form the Conglomerate. What began as an effort to create a united front against economic pressures from the Mizraim Empire has evolved into an effective government body with the power to challenge the greatest empires in the universe. If there is one thing to learn from the Conglomerate, it is that wealth is power—that all worlds are enslaved to economics. And Galizur, as a board member for Quasar Industries, the greatest of the megacorps, was like a king out of legend. Powerful, duplicitous, and far better as a friend than a foe.

The Royal Palace didn’t look like a hotel worthy of the name, with its ash-stained exterior and poorly lit interior, but Rachel didn’t have time to be choosy. She might have evaded the Redeemers for a little while, but now that they knew she was in Beeroth, it was only a matter of time. Shit, Jeremiah might even come for her himself. Wouldn’t that be nice?

If she went with him, would he let her take it all back? Say it was all a mistake? And if he would allow it, could she do so? After all she’d done, no one even cared about her efforts. So why should she? She sighed. Because she couldn’t just sit back and let long-absent Angels map out humanity’s future.

Rachel scanned the hotel lobby twice to make sure no one was watching her before she strode to the counter. “I need a room. One with access to the Mazzaroth.”

The old woman sitting at the desk rolled her eyes and pointed at the screen in front of Rachel. “All the rooms have Mazzaroth access. Just pick one.”

Well, at least there was that—even if the place was a sorry excuse for a palace. Rachel paged through the room options, then tapped one on the second floor. Low enough she could get out in a hurry, but not on the ground floor where it would be easier to corner her unaware. The screen flashed a nightly rate, and Rachel deposited a kesitah chip into the slot that would cover a week.

A moment later another slot ejected a key card. Rachel tried not to smirk. Even the Sheik was still using key cards, so she shouldn’t be surprised this place would too. Of course, when she’d checked into the Sheik, at least she’d had a bag. Now she had nothing but the clothes on her back, some money, and a MAG that didn’t work.

Rachel hiked up the stairs, barely even glancing at the lift. Too easy to get trapped in one of those. Sure, if she had to go more than three or four flights of stairs, she’d use one, but no reason to chance it here.

Upstairs she swiped the key card along the scanner and the door to her room cracked ajar. The bed in the corner looked clean enough, and there was a large screen on the wall. Which was all she really needed.

With a sigh she collapsed on the bed. Her head throbbed from the excitement. What would be better, sleep or a shower? God, she was feeling nasty. A quick shower … but first she just needed to rest her eyes a bit.

Rachel woke with a start. She was in a hotel room. Beeroth. No window, so no idea what time it was. For a moment she rubbed her face, then swept her tangled hair back from her face with a groan. “Mazzaroth on.”

A slight buzz and crackle was the only indication the screen had come to life. Of course, with those two words, she’d accessed quantum storage, connecting her through the Conduit relays to everywhere in the Local Group. “Local time?”

“0500 hours, Gehenna standard time,” the computer said, the voice dry and boring. Generic user access.

Rachel stood and stripped off her sweaty clothes. Please God, say this place has automatic laundry. Rachel stepped into the washroom and spotted the familiar unit. It actually had a slot for a kesitah chip. How cute, they charged for laundry. With a sigh, she deposited the smallest imprinted kesitah she had and threw the clothes in.

“Shower on. Hot.”

Nothing happened. She rolled her eyes and tapped the dials manually. Water spurted out, steam rising in an instant. For a heartbeat, the heat shocked her, then she let it relax her muscles. She’d probably benefit from a proper massage, but … no. It’d make her too vulnerable.

By the time she stepped out of the shower her clothes were dried and pressed. “Mazzaroth personal access,” she said, slipping her shirt back on. “Rachel Jordan, code Seraphim 786.”

The screen in the bedroom flickered again, then spoke. “Hello, Rachel.” The voice had switched to her personal settings, that of a sultry man who reminded her of David, just a little. Which was probably her way of torturing herself, but her father always said she loved trouble.

“Contact Galizur at Quasar Industries. Secure channel.”

“One moment,” the man’s voice said, with that bare hint of a Calnehian accent. Like David. Another thing her crusade had cost her. Sometimes she imagined him welcoming her back. If she found it, found the Ark, what would he say? Welcome home, lass? No. He’d never understand.

Rachel buttoned her shirt and sat on the bed. Now that her hair was clean, it really needed a comb. Of course, she’d lost her comb at the Sheik and there was no way she’d trust one out of this place.

Galizur was thousands of light years away in Andromeda, but the Conduit would allow near instantaneous communication via quantum relays. The Conduit itself was really a series of bridges—wormholes, some called them—the Angels had built to connect the galaxies. They had some kind of inherent time frame shifting that no human really understood, designed to keep communication from violating one’s light cone. The Second Commandment said “Man shall adhere to the bounds of the Conduit,” which probably meant don’t try to fuck with causality. Any wormhole allowed faster-than-light travel, meaning you could effectively travel back in time. She could see why the Angels wouldn’t want that. As far as the bounds of the Conduit ... some believed beyond them you could reach other universes. Why would the Angels restrict them unless that was true?

The screen flickered, revealing a man sitting in a dark room. He leaned forward just enough to reveal his deep wheat-colored skin and black hair. Rachel had never seen him face-to-face, but they’d done a fair amount of business together. Some humans had retained distinct features from the old cultures of Eden, but most had interbred so heavily that old concepts of ethnicity were hopelessly blurred. She couldn’t even guess about Galizur’s heritage.

“Miss Jordan,” he said.

Not a hint of emotion on his face, and she couldn’t read him over the Mazzaroth. “Do you have any idea what kind of hellhole this planet is?”

Again, no change on his face. “You went there of your own free choice.”

Bastard. “Because you fed me a lead about the Sefer. Thugs and drug dealers and toxic atmosphere I can handle, but now the Redeemers are here! You know what they’ll do if they catch me.” Wash away her sins. Which was code for forced indoctrination—brainwashing. All she was, all she believed, would be stripped away. A combination of drugs, subliminal conditioning, and psionic torture would destroy the Rachel Jordan who was and leave a hollow shell in her place.

A tremor ran through her chest, and she barely managed to still it. For a moment she shut her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

They would do that to her. People who should have loved her, should have listened to her, would instead destroy her. If she’d only tried harder, if she’d said the right thing, maybe Jeremiah would have listened.

“This place is a cesspool,” she said at last, without opening her eyes.

“Quasar Industries has paid you very handsomely for relics in the past, Miss Jordan. If you cannot handle this assignment, though …”

She snapped her eyes open and rose from the bed. “I didn’t say that! But how in the holy universe am I supposed to find the Sefer with these people after me? I can take care of myself, but I’m not a soldier.” Maybe she should have asked David to teach her Merkabah. He probably would have refused. That fighting style was supposedly reserved for Sentinels. She was a decent shot with a MAG and had a few basic unarmed combat moves, but Redeemers were professional combatants.

“Then perhaps you need a soldier, or at least a warrior to protect you,” Galizur said.

Rachel paced. “Yeah, great. Where would I get one of those?”

Galizur paused a moment. Was he looking at something else on his screen? “A place like Gehenna is rife with mercenaries. You have the money to hire one. If you find the Sefer Raziel, I’ll even reimburse the expense.”

He was right, of course. Without some protection, she’d be dead or worse in days. Unless she was willing to flee. She could make it to the spaceport, maybe slip off world. Once she reached the Conduit Gate at the edge of the system she’d be home free. All she’d have to do is tell Jeremiah she’d given it all up—he might believe her. The thought made her hands shake.

She could even try to fix things with David. If he knew she’d given this all up, he would listen. She knew he would.

The only price would be giving up the future. Letting mankind stay where it was, mired in superstition and traditions enforced by long-absent autocrats. The Sefer Raziel could lead her to the Ark … It could change the course of history. Finally allow mankind to resume the path of advancement rather than to stagnate.

She sighed. “Where do I find one I can trust?”

Galizur’s gaze remained unwavering. And damn unnerving. But he was one of the top execs at a megacorp, so what did she expect? “There’s a mercenary with a reputation for efficiency in your city. Name of Ezekiel Knight. He takes jobs out of local clubs. Try the Yetzer Hara.”

“Can I trust him?”

“You know better than that. Use your own judgment—I’ve never met him. But reports say he’s good, if expensive.”

Pricey could be a good sign, too. Rachel was tired of being scared. A bodyguard might make the Redeemers think twice about trying to come after her. Especially if he happened to be large and well-armed.

“Have you made any progress?” Galizur asked.

“I was interrupted.”

“If the Redeemers know what you seek—”

Rachel threw up her hands. “I know that! But I can’t find a lost relic without asking questions.”

“Very well. But remember, your time may be short.” At that, the line cut and her screen went blank.

And she’d forgotten to ask him about the damn MAG.

CHAPTER FOUR

September 22nd, 3096 EY

In truth, I’d known the Redeemers hunted me for some time. My past with them undoubtedly placed me on their watch list, but beyond that, sooner or later word was bound to reach them of what I sought. The Redeemers are perhaps the most insidious of the seven megacorps, because they alone are not driven by profit, but by zeal. They mask aggression and a desire to dominate in the cloak of righteousness, declaring any who oppose them khapiru.

Yetzer Hara meant something like “evil nature”. So it didn’t surprise her to find the club was an underground bunker filled with men and women who looked like they’d as soon gut her as talk to her. From the moment the airlock opened, she found herself the subject of lewd stares and appraising eyes. Even inside, the faint whiff of sulfur lingered, but honestly, she was getting used to it.

A man passed right behind her, brushing her ass in a way that could have been an accident. Of course, it wasn’t. Rachel almost choked. Son of a bitch thought he could just cop a feel? On New Rome no one would dare touch a woman like that. But she wasn’t ready to make a scene. Not quite. Instead, she eyed the punk. A scar ran down the man’s cheek. Hadn’t he ever heard of nanobot regeneration? Or maybe a backwater world like this would even consider that a violation of the First Commandment.

Rachel strolled the room a bit, watching the crowd. Some had MAGs strapped to hips and thighs, and most had knives. Probably more than she could see.

When she was sure she had the lay of the place, she strode to the bar. The man behind it smiled at her with bad teeth. Clearly no nanobots for him, either.

“A shot of whatever your best is,” she said.

He poured a small glass, and she downed the burning liquor in one swig. It was all fire and no taste. Probably something local she’d rather not know the details of. She slipped him a kesitah imprinted with a hefty amount. His eyes lit up a bit when he pressed his thumb onto the chip to check the reading.

“I’m looking for someone named Knight.”

The bartender smirked and cocked his head at a man sitting alone in a corner. He was young, maybe younger than her, with wavy blond hair framing his face. He wore a long black leather coat, buttoned down to his waist. For that matter, his boots and gloves were black leather, too. Nanomesh armor? A little chromatically impaired, but he had that tough-guy vibe. Still, not as brawny as she’d been hoping.

She left the glass on the bar and strolled over to the blond man’s table, then sat across from him. “Ezekiel Knight?”

He snorted. “Just Knight, lady.”

Fine. To the point, then. “I’m looking for protection.”

“Then you’re on the wrong planet. In fact, no matter what you want, this is the wrong planet.”

If only she was so lucky. “Are you interested in a job, or was I misinformed, Knight?”

Knight leaned forward, looking her in the eye. His eyes were gray-blue, almost silvery. “You’re an off-worlder. Mizraim?”

Rachel folded her arms. “I can pay you in kesitahs, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No way. Mizraim credits.”

He wanted to be paid in foreign currency? Rachel raised an eyebrow. “How much?”

He looked her up and down a moment, then leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Seventy thousand.”

Rachel laughed. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Could be.” He shrugged. “But I’m worth it.”

No bodyguard was worth that. “Thirty thousand. For a month.”

“Lady, even if you were throwing yourself into the deal, that wouldn’t be enough.”

Her mind tingled with the rising sense of his arousal. He might have been cute, but she wasn’t about to put up with a pompous ass like that. She stood. “Not even if you were paying me the thirty thousand, you greedy, over-styled lust cadet.”

Knight spread his hands. “Maybe I am.” He pointed over her shoulder. “And maybe you’re in some deep shit, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Three men were moving in on her. Redeemers. Dammit, she’d been too preoccupied with this little punk. How dare he treat her like a prostitute? But without him, there was no way she could fight three Redeemers. Even if her MAG worked.

One more glance at the Redeemers. If they caught her, her life was finished. And her righteous indignation would be less than nothing.

“Help me,” she said to Knight.

Other customers had risen and were stepping aside, clearly seeing trouble coming. And expectant for a show.

“Forty thousand,” she said, then glanced at the men. “Fifty thousand! It’s all I can get right now.”

Knight snickered and rose, stepping between her and the advancing Redeemers.

“Stand aside or be judged khapiru, citizen,” the Redeemer said. Same one who had trailed her from the Sheik.

God. This was going to be bad. Rachel slipped her breather from her pocket. She had to get to the airlock. The Redeemers might well kill Knight, but right now she had to think of herself.

Knight spread his hands and shook his head. A stun baton dropped into the lead Redeemer’s hand. The Redeemer swung.

Knight moved so fast Rachel wasn’t sure what happened. He had the Redeemer’s arm in one hand, the other hand crushing the fanatic’s windpipe. A lightning fast turn and Knight slammed the man’s head down on the metal table with a clang that resounded through the entire club.

Everything stopped.

Holy shit.

The breather hung limp in Rachel’s hand.

Holy shit. That Redeemer must be dead. A splatter of blood stained the table when he slid off it and onto the floor.

Then the room exploded into motion as if someone had flipped a switch. One Redeemer surged at Knight, baton in hand, while the other moved in on her. Dozens of other men and women armed themselves with bottles, chairs, or fists and joined the chaos.

Rachel dove under a table and scampered away from the Redeemer as he tried to grab her. The man caught her leg and then screamed, a throwing knife appearing in his shoulder. He released her, and she caught a glimpse of Knight smirking and turning away.

Her new bodyguard leaped onto a chair, caught it between his legs, and kicked, somehow flinging it straight into the face of the charging Redeemer. Rachel pushed herself up and ran for the airlock. The Redeemer with the knife in his shoulder tackled her and she hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of her lungs.

The breather skittered across the club floor. By the time Rachel caught her wind, she had no idea where the breather had gone. The Redeemer pounded his fist into her ribs. Agony rocked them, and she whimpered. He was too strong.

His blood had covered her jacket, making it slick. She kicked him in the face, then slipped from his grasp, scrambling away. The man growled and extended his baton as he rose.

She looked to Knight. The other Redeemer was down, but two of the patrons had moved in on Knight. He caught the arm of one swinging a bottle, then swung his hand like a knife, one way then the other, hitting both men. He moved so quickly her eyes couldn’t quite track him. His palm crushed a man’s nose, and then he was beside her, slamming the Redeemer into the wall.

“Go!” Knight shouted. “Not a good place to be right now.”

“I lost my mask! I can’t—”

He grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the airlock. “The air won’t kill you right away. Go!”

The Redeemer Knight had shoved rose and advanced on him. He swung the baton. Knight dodged the blow like the other man had moved in slow motion.

Rachel hit the buzzer for the airlock and it opened with a whoosh. “Knight!”

He caught the man’s wrist and spun around under his arm. With a twist he had the man on his knees, dropping the baton. Knight’s other hand fell like a blade on the Redeemer’s neck. Probably breaking it.

Knight stepped into the airlock with her and hit the buzzer to close it.

The fight continued in the club. She watched it numbly through the window. “There’ll be more of them.” She reached for her MAG. If only the damn thing was working.

“Put that away.”

“What?”

“The atmosphere interferes with the magnetic rails,” Knight said.

“That’s why it jammed? This is the latest model from QI, an Endbringer Mk 3. State of the art, and you’re telling me it’s not going to fire on this planet?” It wasn’t just broken, it was useless?

Knight turned to peer through the window outside, where a rain had started. The airlock whooshed open. In an instant, Rachel felt a burning in her sinuses. A heartbeat later her lungs were on fire. Knight seemed unaffected though he wore no breather.

“It might work. Or it might explode. I’d put it away. Stick close to me.”

He stepped out into the rain.

CHAPTER FIVE

MAGs—Magnetic Accelerator Guns—have long been the ubiquitous arms for civilians and private military contractors throughout the known universe. The design is simple, efficient, and lethal. An electromagnetic rail fires a miniature slug at supersonic velocities, capable of delivering enormous kinetic energy. And like most weapons, they are designed by Quasar Industries—Galizur’s company. It might have been nice of him to warn me they could fail so easily in the Gehennan atmosphere.

Rachel rushed out into the rain after Knight. Her body felt inflamed, sluggish, and her vision was blurred. Rain splattered the buildings around them and seemed to sizzle off the ground, creating steam that further stung her eyes.

With the ash-filled sky, she saw no moon or stars to illuminate the night. Only the dim flicker of street lights and glowing signs.

“Rachel Jordan,” a voice said through the slight distortion of a breather. “Submit now for judgment or risk execution.”

A Redeemer stood two dozen feet in front of her, stun baton pointed at her. Where had her bodyguard gone? She tried to run, but made it only a few steps before she was doubled over gasping. Trying to breathe out here was torture. She fell to her knees and raised her hands. Other Redeemers stepped from the shadows and began advancing.

She’d almost welcome the restraints they held if they gave her a breather.

Knight dropped out of the sky behind the Redeemer who had addressed her. He reached a hand around the man’s head and ripped off his breather, and must have hit him, because the Redeemer dropped to his knees. And then Knight was gone again, vanished into some shadows.

“Shoot the bastard,” one of Redeemers shouted. The remaining three Redeemers pulled MAGs and began stalking the alleys, hunting for Rachel’s would-be protector. She must have suddenly seemed less important.

One jumped at movement in an alley and tried to fire. His MAG jammed just like Rachel’s had.

She forced herself up and made a break for the street. If she could reach the monorail, they might have breathers.

Air.

Air was all that mattered.

Rapid retorts echoed from one of the MAGs, but he wasn’t shooting at her. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Knight leap from one balcony to another, swinging under the rails like a gymnast, undeterred by the rain-slicked surfaces. He kicked off a wall and landed beside the Redeemer with the active MAG.

The man spun on Knight and fired. And Knight moved, his head bobbing out of the way. Rachel stopped dead, facing the fight. The Gehennan had just dodged a supersonic slug. Which was impossible.

Knight jabbed a throwing knife into the Redeemer’s eye and the man fell like a stone. Knight grabbed a pair of knives strapped to his legs and flung them at another Redeemer. The knives bounced off his armor and he kept running toward Knight, baton in one hand, MAG in the other.

The Redeemer pointed the MAG and then cursed. It must have jammed, too.

Rachel gasped, barely breathing. Her veins were on fire. She took off running again, every step sending lances of ice through her muscles.

A hand grabbed her and yanked her into an alley, then shoved her against a building. She struggled a heartbeat before she realized it was Knight. He pressed a breather onto her face and activated the suction. The device whirred, and fresh air began to filter through.

Rachel fell, almost in tears. She didn’t care how badly she’d scraped her palms as she coughed the burning poisons from her lungs.

Knight was gone again, vanished into the rain.

The water gathered in puddles around her. The rising steam still made her eyes water. Her skin was burning. Oh, Angels above, this was acid rain. Of course it was—the entire planet’s atmosphere was toxic. That burning was her skin being corroded, along with her only set of clothes.

She climbed to her feet and stuck her head around the corner. She caught sight of Knight disarming another Redeemer. The man fell when Knight kicked his knee out. Then Knight stomped on his head.

The sudden, sickening crack left a hollow in Rachel’s stomach. Brutal, almost beyond words.

What had Galizur said? A reputation for efficiency.

“Where are you?” the last Redeemer screamed. “Come out and fight like a man!”

At last Knight stepped out of the shadows and beneath a streetlight, advancing on the Redeemer with hands spread. “As you wish.”

From her hiding place, Rachel couldn’t see the Redeemer’s face, but she imagined him swallowing hard. The man backed away, stun baton ready. The Redeemer tried his MAG again. Nothing happened. “Shit!” he shouted, hurling the gun away. “I judge you khapiru!” He ran for Knight.

Knight dodged several blows like they were dancing. Lightning crackled from the baton, but it never touched Knight. He moved like he saw every attack long before it landed. Son of a bitch was toying with the Redeemer, wasn’t he?

“Knight!” Rachel shouted. “I have to get out of this rain.”

Knight dodged the next swing and came up under it, his fist slamming into the Redeemer’s throat. The man crumpled to the ground, grasping his neck for a breath he’d never take.

Knight stopped at the other bodies to retrieve his throwing knives, then jogged to her. “A little rain won’t harm you too much.”

“I still want out of it!”

He nodded. “Yeah. This way,” he said, ushering her toward the monorail.

“You just killed seven people,” she said when they neared. “You killed them. You were supposed to protect me, not—”

“I did protect you. Those men will never threaten you again.” He trotted down the steps into the monorail. “If we left them alive, what do you think they’d do? Come after you again, right?”

Ice filled her heart. Was that her own fear, or was she sensing his cold emotions? Almost afraid, she probed them. God, he really believed it, even if a buried hint of fear underlaid his words.

And worse, he was right. Redeemers did not stop.

“They seemed pretty intent on taking you along, rich girl. What’d you do?”

Rachel shook her head. She was paying him, not the other way around. “It doesn’t matter. But you didn’t have to kill—”

Knight spun on her and shoved her against the station wall. He leaned in so close his hair tickled her cheek. “This isn’t some Mizraim paradise, rich girl. This is Gehenna. You leave enemies behind you, sooner or later you’ll have more enemies in front of you than you can handle.”

Rachel grit her teeth and pushed him away. “Fine.”

Knight shook his head. “You want protection? Sure seems like you need it.” He glanced at an arriving rail. “But you’re right. Why should I care what they want? I only care about what’s in your bank account.”

Rachel started for the monorail. Could she in good conscience continue to associate with a man who killed so casually? But he was right, she needed him. The Redeemers wouldn’t have stopped. Of course, losing an entire Heart would likely make them even more determined. If she sent Knight away now, the Redeemers might kill her without even waiting for her surrender.

“You’re a Smogger, aren’t you? That’s how you can breathe the atmosphere here.” In the Days of Glory the Angels had created several subspecies of humanity designed for varying habitats. Knight’s ancestors must have been ash-worlders—Smoggers. Like David.

Knight shrugged. “You have your secrets. I have mine.”

Fair enough. “Come on,” she said. “I need to get back to my hotel.” And shower off this acid rain.

Knight walked beside her, just slightly behind. “We should get you some armor if this is going to continue.”

So his coat was nanomesh. Maybe one of the slugs had even hit him. She paused. “How in the holy universe did you dodge a MAG slug?”

Knight snickered and kept walking toward the train. “I didn’t, rich girl. I dodged the trajectory of where he was pointing it.”

“I’ve never seen anyone move that fast. Are you cybered?”

Knight stopped, then slowly turned on her. He walked back, menace in his steps. She’d seen a vid of a tiger stalking prey once. The cat moved like that. Knight circled around to her side. “Did you just accuse me of violating the First Commandment?”

Rachel swallowed. Apparently even on Gehenna, that was a hefty accusation. But she had to know. The First Commandment, “Man shall not alter the form of man,” was held the most sacred throughout the universe. Angels outright forbade humans from altering their genetic structure—though they’d done it themselves to create the Races of Man—or enhancing themselves with cybernetics. But there were always rumors of khapiru—outcasts—hunted down by Redeemers for breaking that law. Some said such violations ran rampant on Asherah. But out here on Gehenna…

Rachel forced herself to look straight into the eyes of this tiger. He was a killing machine. What if he were literally part machine? “Have you violated it?”

“No.” It came out as a growl. And she didn’t really blame him.

“Then how do you—”

“Training. Do you want my services or not, rich girl?”

“Stop calling me that. My name is Rachel, and I’m not rich.” Not really, though she did well enough on what QI paid her for relics.

“All right, Rachel. But you can afford me?”

She shut her eyes. She had to afford him. It was the only way she’d live long enough to find the Sefer. “Come on.”

CHAPTER SIX

The first time I met Knight I found him to be arrogant, self-centered, and detestable. The first time I saw him fight, I decided I’d best keep such opinions to myself. Hard to believe someone could manage such preternatural reflexes without cybernetics or genetic enhancements. But he claimed not to have violated the First Commandment, and I had no means by which to challenge his claim.

Rachel swiped the key card and let herself into her room at the Royal Palace. Knight held her back by the shoulder and stuck his head in the doorway first, then waved her inside. At least he took the bodyguard thing seriously.

“Wait out here,” she said, and slipped into the washroom. The acid rain had corroded her clothes a little, but since she had no others, thinning clothes would have to do. She dropped them in the laundry for the second time today, then took a quick shower to wash the burning off her skin. The initial sting gave way to a soothing warmth.

Best she not take too much time, with Knight waiting out there. Quite possibly imagining her in here. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He was powerful, fit. Fast and deadly. A tiger. She prayed he was no empath. Given the attraction he obviously felt toward her, if he had any idea she was even a little hot for him—and she knew what the warmth in her abdomen meant, much as she might like to deny it—she’d never hear the end of it.

Shit, maybe she should just bed him and get it over with. A simple nanotab could ensure she didn’t get pregnant and… God, what the void was she thinking? It was just the adrenaline. It did this to people. There was no way in the holy universe she’d let that happen.

She switched off the water, activated the dryer, and threw her clothes back on. Knight was sitting on her bed, seeming to stare off into nothing. His eyes glanced at her when she entered, but he didn’t turn his head.

“Do you want to shower?” she asked.

He smirked, like he might make some smart remark, but then he rose and ducked into the washroom. Rachel blew out a long breath and sat on the bed. Who had she let into her room? The man was clearly very dangerous, and probably a bit off rotation. But he had saved her.

He came out a few minutes later, his long coat draped over his arm. He wore a sleeveless vest, probably nanomesh armor itself, she’d guess, the slate gray of most buildings around here. His exposed arms were very, very toned. Rock hard, ready in an instant. She shook herself, trying to shift her focus. This man was a killer—and that’s why he had a body like this.

But it wasn’t just the strength of his muscles that made him so deadly. Something allowed him to react much faster than he should have.

“Are you a Psych, Knight? Is that how you moved like that, sensing what people intend even before they start to act?”

He tossed the coat on the bed, then sat down beside her. “If I was psychic, do you think I’d be doing this kind of shit?”

Why not? She was. “It’s a fair question. There are five million people on this planet. It stands to reason some fifty thousand of you should be Psychs, and at least five thousand should be powerful enough to—”

“Not on this planet, Rachel. Psionic genes don’t run strongly here.”

Rachel brushed her fingers through her hair, pausing for a moment. “Then how do you navigate the Conduit, without Psychs?”

“We don’t.”

So the people on this world were trapped here, unless an outside Psych came to take them away, or they could afford passage. It made a terrible, sadistic sense. This was a prison once. Even if the inmates could build ships capable of reaching the Conduit Gate, without Psychs they could never navigate it. They’d enter the Conduit and be lost forever. And to try to leave a system without the Conduit—the journey would take years.

God, they were stuck in this hellhole. Some of them had probably never committed any crime, and the Angels had damned them here for the sins of their ancestors. She stilled the urge to brush Knight’s cheek with her hand—he was no lost child. Instead she sighed.

Knight smirked again. “Figured out the Angels’ great joke on us, huh?” Palpable frustration leapt off him, clouding her mind until she couldn’t help but share it.

What could she say? What had been done to these people was the Angels’ fault, just like so much else in human history. Their perfect society in the Days of Glory had no tolerance for anything on the fringes. And people like Knight were punished for things that had happened hundreds of years before they were born. She had to believe they’d have known the inmates would be trapped, that their descendants would be trapped. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Damnation via apathy. It made her want to scream.

“Why are those people after you?” he said after a moment. “I can protect you best if I know who they are and what they want.”

Rachel stood and paced in front of him, as she’d often done as a lecturer. She knew it was a nervous habit, but she’d never been able to break it. “The Redeemers. Know about them?” Knight just stared at her. “One of the seven megacorps of the Conglomerate. Unlike the other corps, though, they don’t make anything or offer any services. They’re the self-appointed enforcers of Angel doctrine. Any deviation from what they perceive as the wishes of the Angels, and they name you khapiru.”

Knight shrugged. “So they enforce the Covenant?”

“Officially the other corps support them, because officially they enforce the Covenant, yes. Unofficially, they persecute anyone doing anything out of line with what they think the Angels would have wanted.”

“And?” He spread his hands and raised his brows. “Have you broken a Commandment?” A smirk spread over his face. “Need help with the Third?”

Cocky little punk was still offering to take her to bed? Maybe it was best to just ignore it—lest he realize she’d actually considered it. “I’m an Angelologist. I study the Angels, in particular their technology, and search for things they didn’t leave us in the Vanishing.”

Knight shrugged again. “These Redeemers sound like the good guys to me. Not that I care, as long as you’re paying.” He raised his eyebrow. “You are going to pay me, right? A little up front sounds only fair, considering the events of tonight.”

“Yes, I’m going to pay you! Is that all you care about? I’m talking about the future of the human race. We are enslaved to traditions forced on us by alien beings claiming it was in our best interest.” She paused for effect. “It’s been more than three thousand years since the Exodus. We still have no idea where Eden is, and we’ve barely advanced technologically from what they gave us all those years ago. The only progress we’ve made at all has come after the Vanishing, and people like the Redeemers fight us every step!”

Knight sat straighter, scowling. “Some rich girl from the Mizraim Empire, and you think you know what it means to be enslaved. These beings you call aliens came from God to save us from the Adversary. I doubt God cares about this place, but you seem to want to make the Angels out as despots. Trust me. I’ve seen real tyrants.”

Rachel resumed her pacing. “But all that history you’re talking about, the Adversary destroying Eden and the Angels saving us, that’s history they gave us in the Codex. Meaning you believe it because they told you to believe. Because your ancestors believed—”

“Everyone believes it. Someone tried to drive the human race to extinction three thousand years ago. Are you saying it’s not true?”

Rachel pointed at him. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. We only know what they told us about the past. We almost went extinct? Well, now there are trillions of us, spread across more than thirty galaxies. All we know for sure is that the Angels were tyrants, Knight. Their word was law, and that’s all there was to it.” They took away humanity’s God-given right to decide their own destiny, and no one seemed to care!

“Makes sense if God sent them.” Another goddamn shrug.

She scoffed. “They said He did. We have to take their word for it.”

“So you want the Word of God direct from His mouth?” Knight rose. “That’s a tall order.” He almost, almost glared at her. She could feel irritation wafting off him, though it was hard to say how much he really cared about religion.

Rachel scowled. She was a fool to think this man would understand her when no one else had. A few students, here and there, might have grasped the things she’d tried to teach. Those precious few almost made it worthwhile. Most people just couldn’t open their eyes to reality. You had to understand the past—not cling blindly to it. And she’d lost her place, lost her chance to teach because of the blind obedience that permeated Mizraim. And apparently beyond.

“Knight… You have to understand—”

“I don’t have to. You’re free to believe whatever off rotation nonsense you want, as long as I get paid.”

So that was it? He didn’t want to be enlightened. The apathy was almost worse than blindness through faith. And she was stuck with him. He was all she had here.

Rachel yanked a credit chip from her jacket and thrust it at him. “Ten thousand, up front.”

“Then you’ve got yourself some protection from Redeemers, or whoever else you’ve managed to piss off. Which is probably a lot of people with that spiel.”

If he only knew. Two years ago she’d been a lecturer at New Rome University. Youngest professor on the Days of Glory. But neither the faculty nor most of the students had liked hearing the Days of Glory might not have been all that glorious. For everything the Angels had given mankind, they’d demanded something in return.

Eden probably had existed. People had to come from somewhere. And no history debated that something had attacked the human homeworld. But even if she took it as a given that the Angels had selflessly rescued mankind from extinction—after something like seven billion people had died—it didn’t permit them to rule an autocratic theocracy for the next two and a half millennia. Of course, most of the people who heard her lectures didn’t see it that way. They believed what they had been told to believe.

If she had to guess, hearing she’d been kicked out of NRU had probably quite disappointed her father.

But nothing would compare to his dejection, his rage when she refused to join him in the Redeemers. Rachel was fifteen when Jeremiah had joined their father on that path. And they had always thought she’d follow. But they had never understood her. Even now, the thought of his face clenched her heart. That look of betrayal when she left home—that look would haunt her forever.

But Quasar Industries hadn’t cared who wanted her dead. Jobless and scorned by the academic community, she’d fled straight to Galizur. And he’d given her the chance to earn a living and change the future. And she was damn well going to take that chance. Because one day, her father, Jeremiah, and even David would look back and see she’d been right.

CHAPTER SEVEN

September 23rd, 3096 EY

I have acquired a protector, after a fashion, who may allow me to continue down this path. However, despite his actions, or perhaps because of them, I have no reason to believe the Redeemers will stop. Their membership in the Conglomerate is shaky at best, but because of their reach and support throughout the universe, no other megacorp wants to question them. Go up against them and risk being named khapiru—no. Who would take such a risk? So instead of hiring a Shiza Security team, I find myself with a local Gehennan.

Funny how much less intimidating the Babel Bazaar seemed with Knight at her side. He didn’t say much while they walked, which was just as well. When he did speak he had a tendency to piss her off, and she needed a level head.

On the other side of the breezeway she spotted a flashing sign for Calnehian food. She’d never see anything from Calneh without thinking of David. He might have spent his young adult life on New Rome, same as her, but he’d never quite lost the accent or culture of that ash-world. Still, Rachel could never pass up the chance to sample some new dishes.

“You’re meeting your informant here?” Knight asked.

“No, I’m meeting my dinner here.” The door slid open, and Rachel stepped inside. “Come on. What’ll you have?”

“I’m not wasting my money on this place.” His eyes were scanning the half-full establishment, searching for some threat.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m buying.”

Knight glanced at her. “In that case I’ll have steak.”

Rachel sat at a table, trying not to glare at him. Even she knew they didn’t raise livestock on this planet, and imported steak would probably cost a week’s rent at the Royal Palace. But she’d offered and she’d be damned if she let him trip her up over a dinner.

She tapped the display for steak, then selected salmon for herself. Most of these places had underground fish tanks, so at least they’d be fresh.

The meal came after about fifteen minutes of awkward silence. She’d tried making conversation with Knight, but he kept his eyes on everyone but her. She couldn’t even get a read on his emotions. So when her food arrived, she dug in and pretended she was eating alone.

Knight pulled off his gloves to eat, revealing scars on his hands. Rachel tried not to stare. Maybe they really didn’t use nanobot regeneration on this planet.

He greedily devoured the steak then licked his lips. “Who are you meeting?”

Rachel leaned forward. “Her name’s Ariel. She’s somewhere on the second sub-level, but I don’t know her and I need to find her. She may have information crucial to my mission.”

“Right. To save the human race from its own ineptitude. Sure.”

Rachel ground her teeth and bit back any response.

“Give me money for bribes. I’ll find her.”

“I have done this before,” she said.

“Fine. Then you find her.”

She would. She’d been doing this work for a while now. Still, the punk was from around here. He’d know the place, and probably feel right at home with the seedy crowd. The truth was, he’d get them there faster, which would get her away from Gehenna faster.

With a muttered curse, she pulled a handful of kesitahs from her jacket. “Here. You should know, a guy down here is probably looking to get even with me.”

Knight caught her eyes for a moment. “For what?”

“Kneeing him in the groin and refusing his drugs.”

Now he looked right at her. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

Rachel grinned. “I brought you along for a reason.”

“Yeah, because you’ve apparently managed to rile up half the human race. So what was it, Mammon?”

Oh God, please don’t let Knight be a user. The last thing she needed was an addict bodyguard going off rotation. Further off rotation. “Yes …”

“Does he know who you are?”

Rachel shook her head. “No. He just called me long hair.”

Knight rose, motioning for her to stay put. He went back out into the bazaar, and a few moments later returned with a head scarf. He tossed it to her. Plain brown, and hardly fashionable, but she’d seen others on this planet wearing the same.

“Better if you cut your hair, too,” he said.

“How about you cut yours?” She stood and wrapped the scarf around her head.

Knight turned and slipped out of the restaurant, and Rachel followed. He paused at a few merchant stalls, whispering questions she didn’t quite catch, and handing out her kesitahs like they were free.

The man thought she was made of money.

Eventually, Knight led her down the stairs to the next sub-level, where he continued handing out her money. After the third time, Rachel was about to complain when he pulled her down one of the side halls. He stopped at an unmarked door and knocked twice. A moment later the door slid open, and Knight stepped inside.

Rachel followed. The room was dark, but she could see two big men, each with long knives. Beyond, sitting at a table with the room’s only light, a woman watched it all with little apparent interest.

“Ariel?” Rachel asked.

The woman shrugged.

Shit, what was that server’s name? “Judy sent me. I need to buy some information. I hear you’re the place to go.”

“Depends what you want to know and how much you can pay.”

Rachel glanced again at the two men still brandishing knives. Knight was beside her, but he made no move to look threatening. Of course, if he did act, it would probably mean murder.

“I’ve got plenty of kesitahs. I can even have Mizraim credits transferred to an account of your choice. The question is, do you have anything worth it?”

Ariel beckoned her closer, and the two bodyguards stepped aside. Rachel sat across the table from Ariel. She wished Knight stood close enough to see, but looking over her shoulder would make her seem vulnerable. She had to come at these negotiations from a position of strength, or a woman like this would walk away with a planet before Rachel knew it.

Rachel folded her hands. “You know the Sefer Raziel?”

Ariel nodded. “Supposedly the Angel Raziel recorded the secrets of his people in a book, a bequeathal to mankind that was lost in the Vanishing.”

“I’m going to find it.”

“You and millions of others.”

Rachel leaned forward. Ariel was holding back. She felt it dripping off the woman. “Tell me what you know.”

“Thirty thousand kesitahs.” Ariel’s smile was smug, but compared to Knight’s fee that was spare change. If she had any idea what Rachel had paid her bodyguard, she’d probably have asked for five times that sum.

Rachel unstrapped her belt and pulled out kesitah chips she’d imprinted with five thousand each. She placed them on the table in front of Ariel, who pressed her thumb onto one, then nodded.

“Word is, an off-world organization has come here searching for it, too. Recently. They call themselves the Lazarus Group. They’ve been on this planet for the last two years, and have been traveling all over, asking questions from people like me.”

“Did you help them, too?”

“You’re not paying me for that information.”

Of course not. “Where can I find them?”

“You’re not paying me for that, either.”

Rachel rose, hands pressed on the table. “I’m paying you to tell me all you know about the Sefer!”

At her outburst, the two bodyguards raised their knives. Rachel was suddenly aware of the twenty-centimeter-long blades, dangerously close to her back. She turned, slowly, looking over her shoulder. One of the men grinned. Beyond him, Knight’s hands drifted to his thighs. He had a half dozen throwing knives strapped horizontally to the outside of each leg.

With a slight shake of her head, she called him off. His hands didn’t relax, but his eyes spoke his understanding. Rachel turned back to Ariel. “Excuse me. I believe we had an arrangement, and it’s in both of our interests that you help me.” She tossed one more kesitah on the table.

Ariel took it, pressed it, and then pocketed it. “All I know about the Lazarus Group is they have a base somewhere on this planet, probably not in this city, and they’re interested in the old Angel eugenics projects.”

The eugenics projects? The Angels had created subspecies of humanity, even Psychs, but for humans to meddle with the bloodlines was a violation of the First Commandment. Which meant these people were willing to ignore doctrine for their agenda, just like her. The question was, did they share her agenda, or have their own?

Rachel would be the first to admit Angel law against eugenics and genetic engineering may have stifled human potential. It didn’t mean these people were on her side. God only knew what hell could break loose if Sentinels learned what was going on—or Redeemers.

“And that’s it?” Rachel said.

“That’s it.”

“Then I’m leaving.”

“Good idea.”

Rachel backed away, gingerly stepping between the bodyguards. Knight followed her out into the hall, and she pulled the head scarf tighter around her.

“I definitely need to buy some armor while we’re here,” she said. Those knives were almost the size of swords.

“Wouldn’t have helped much against those,” Knight said. “Monofilament edged. They’d cut through even nanomesh.”

Rachel shuddered and headed for the stairs. She’d seen enough of the Babel Bazaar for one night. Perhaps for one lifetime. Knight followed, and soon they reached the airlock.

She pressed on her breather and pushed the buzzer.

“What now?” Knight said. “We can’t find this Lazarus Group without more information.”

True. They’re on the planet wasn’t exactly much to go on. But the name of the group might be. There were people who had access to vast amounts of information not available to civilians. Part of her was afraid to ask, of course. But then, it was for the good of humanity. And she’d keep telling herself that was the only reason to call him.

The airlock buzzed open.

“I know someone who might be able to help.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Though we might flee to the farthest reaches of the universe, we cannot escape ourselves. Mac was more than three million light years away from me, and still I turned to him. He had walked out on me—or maybe I’d left him. Funny, I was no longer sure. And still, I could think of no one I’d trust more.

The Milky Way Galaxy was so deep in Mizraim territory the crew of the Logos took their assignment as a vacation. Indeed, chasing Mammon smugglers from one end of the galaxy to the other didn’t present much of a challenge, which gave David time to think. Which may not have been what he most needed.

Leah snorted at some joke she’d made, and David smiled, pretending to share her merriment. A few months ago she’d made Chief Medical Officer on the Logos, the first time he’d seen the Amphie since the Sentinel Academy on Hazaroth. Strong as his psionic gifts were, he wasn’t much of an empath, certainly not a telepath, so he’d probably never figure out what the lass had been saying—best to just smile and nod.

“Really, David,” she said, “are you even listening? You’re usually a bit more… verbose.”

He shook his head. Leah was always a bit too perceptive, and he’d tuned out not only the rest of the mess hall, but his meal companion for the day. “Sorry, lass. Just wondering why we’re not on the border. Who knows what Asherah is up to?” He smiled, to take the edge off the words, and Leah returned it, even if reluctantly.

“You know that incident was a long time ago.” She spread her webbed fingers, then must have seen him look at them, because she placed them under the table. Leah had silky black hair and dark wheatish skin—an attractive woman—but she always seemed a bit shy about being an Amphie. “Why do you take your meals here, anyway?”

As senior officers they could eat in the officer’s lounge, in private. But David always ate with the crew. He may have been second-in-command on a Sentinel warship, but he’d been one of the lower officers, too. Every Sentinel on this ship, every Sentinel in the force, was a credit to the uniform. They were the finest fighting force in the history of mankind. And he had no reason to limit himself to the upper echelons of the crew.

“I like to be seen.”

“A power play against the captain?”

David glowered. “Of course not. Don’t even say something like that. Captain Waller is a mentor to us all, he’s a hero, he’s—”

“Cold?”

David waved her comment away. Such things were best not said at all, certainly not in a public mess hall where someone could overhear.

She shrugged. It looked like she was about to say something else, but a crewman interrupted. “Commander McGregor? There’s a call for you.”

David wiped his mouth and scrubbed his stubbly beard. “All right, I’ll take it in my quarters.” He rose and nodded at Leah, who watched him with an unreadable expression.

The Logos was a big ship, over a kilometer long, so it took him a few minutes to cross back to his quarters. Sleek black metal formed the halls, but the lights evenly spaced in the corners kept it from feeling too oppressive. David took the lift down to the officer’s quarters and stepped inside his room.

The lights came on the moment he did, illuminating his room in a warm blue glow. “Mazzaroth personal access,” he said. “David McGregor, code Duress 92G.” The screen on his wall flashed to life, blinking with an incoming call.

Rachel Jordan, it said.

David blew out a long breath and shut his eyes. It had been a while, over a year. They’d hardly spoken since she lost her job in New Rome. How had he let so much time pass? But it was her fault, too. She could have reached him any time. She was the one who always… no. He wasn’t going to start a conversation like that.

He sat down at the table against the opposite wall. “Receive call.”

Rachel’s face lit up the screen. She was in a bland room somewhere, and her clothes looked worn. Her brown hair fell down over her green jacket. Like so much of the rest of mankind, Rachel’s ancestry was too mixed to determine, but she had a deep skin tone that always made him want to run his thumb over it.

“Mac…” she said.

“Hey, lass. What can I do for you?”

Rachel glanced at something else in the room. Or someone else. Was she with someone? Did she have a new boyfriend? No. She’d never call him like that, not with a new man standing right there. “I heard you made Commander. Congratulations.”

“Aye, thanks.” Maybe she called just to catch up. Maybe now was the chance. “Are you still in Andromeda?”

Rachel shook her head. “The Pegasus Dwarf. Gehenna.”

David grunted, not wanting to admit he’d never heard of it. Most of Pegasus was part of Mizraim, but he’d only served there a few times. There were probably half a million inhabited worlds in the Empire, he could hardly remember them all.

“It’s a shame. I’d have liked to have seen you. I could take some leave, maybe, meet you back home in a few months, if you like.”

He may have been born on Calneh, but New Rome would always be home to the two of them.

Rachel nodded a bit, but it hardly seemed genuine. “Mac … I need to call in a favor.”

“I wasn’t aware I owed you any favors, lass,” David said, trying to feign a smile. This was not a good direction for the conversation to head. Rachel had this habit of getting into things best left alone.

Rachel brushed her hair back from her ear in that infuriatingly enticing way she had. Did she know what her thoughtless gesture did to him? Probably. She was an empath. “Mac … David. I really need information about the Lazarus Group. As much as you can find. Have you heard of them?”

David scratched his head. “Aye, in passing. What are you up to? Those people are khapiru, probably dangerous, Rachel. You should stay away from them.”

“I can’t. Look, can you just find the information for me? Your Sentinel access should get you—”

“You’re asking me to abuse that access.” David rose and folded his arms. “That’s not a small request.”

“Well, I’m not a small friend.”

“Aye, you’re not, but you’re a civilian asking for military intel.” He frowned at her. “And don’t think I’m gonna go bending the rules for you without knowing what you’re up to.”

“Some friend,” a man’s voice said in the background. Damn. She did have another man there. Who the bloody void was it?

Rachel shot a glare at whoever had spoken off-screen, then turned back to him. “Mac, I think they may know where to find the Sefer Raziel.”

David threw up his hands. “Are you bloody kidding me, Rachel? The book is a myth, and a blasphemous one at that. Aren’t you in enough trouble already for playing with the rules?”

“It could change the face of the future!”

“Aye, if it exists. But even if it does, that doesn’t mean the change will be good. Angels gave us what we need, and we’ve no business trying to steal their secrets. Angels above, Rachel, listen to the rules the Shekhinah makes, please.”

She had started pacing. Not a good sign. “What right does that thing have to make rules for us?”

“The Angels left the Shekhinah in charge in their absence.”

“Why should we care what they wanted?”

“Watch your mouth, lass.” David pointed at her now. “What do you think would happen to you if someone heard this kind of talk? Less than that got you fired from the finest college in the Empire. You want the Redeemers after you, too?”

“I … They already are.”

“Bloody hell, Rachel! Get off that planet and stop this. You think all your philosophy has any place outside the classroom? It didn’t even have a place in your class. People are going to die over this shite! Now listen, I’m gonna tell you what to do, and you’re gonna do it. You’re gonna get on the first transport off—”

“Mazzaroth off.”

The screen went blank.

She’d hung up on him.

David clenched his fist, then slammed it onto the table. “What the bloody void, Rachel!” he shouted at the screen.

A tremble ran through his chest, and he had to sit down, head in his hands. She was going to get herself killed. God, it was like she thought the rules of society were just suggestions. Just because she didn’t believe in the rules didn’t mean she was excused from them. Why couldn’t she grasp that? If you wanted to reap the benefits of society, you had to pay its price, too.

And Rachel was about to pay the price for her actions.

CHAPTER NINE

There are moments in which the course of history is set. Moments in which a single choice can change the lives of billions. And most of the time, we do not see it until the moment is long past.

Night—such as it was in space—had come and gone, and David hadn’t slept. He’d remained in the chair, his feet kicked up on his table. In a few hours, he’d have to report to the bridge.

They had caught the smugglers an hour ago. The fools had tried to fire on the Logos. The battle was over in less than two seconds. The Logos was Tribulation class, a warship. The smugglers had to be completely off rotation to try to fight or flee from a ship like this. Mammon smugglers might do hard time, maybe even be banished to a barren world like Horesh, but they had the chance to live. It wasn’t a death crime.

And they’d opened fire on a ship that could pulverize a small planet in a matter of minutes. He’d never understand the criminal mind.

Or Rachel’s, for that matter. She’d thrown away a promising career. Her psionics were good enough she could pilot the Conduit, so even after she’d lost her teaching job, she could have found employment with any corp she wanted. Even the Sentinels might have accepted her application. No surprise she’d refused his request to join.

He sighed. God help him. Somehow the lass had come back into his life and managed to upset his rhythm with a single call. A person had to have his center.

And she always threw off his.

David rose and walked to his dresser, picking up the Codex with both hands and setting it gingerly on the table. The first book, the Covenant, he knew by heart, as did most citizens of Mizraim.

He read the familiar lines, speaking them like a mantra. “The sins of man brought the Adversary to Eden.” Man had reached beyond its home planet, to the very edges of its solar system, and in three fateful days the Adversary had destroyed every outpost, every station, and at last Eden itself. A beautiful blue and green world was turned toxic and barren, and mankind stood on the brink of extinction.

“On the third day, God pitied man, and sent the Angels.” Seven billion humans were dead, but the Angels drove the Adversary back. When the dust cleared, Eden was a wasteland.

“And thus the Angels brought humanity to the Exodus, out of Eden and into the beyond.” Mankind was spread throughout the Local Group and given three Commandments. The last of which, “Man shall populate the universe,” had allowed humankind to recover its numbers in record time.

Rachel had called such forced breeding dehumanizing, tantamount to rape. Sure, families with ten children weren’t as common as they were in the Days of Glory. David only had five brothers and sisters, which, even five hundred years ago, would have been a small family. Rachel had denounced the Third Commandment in her classroom, and it, among her other controversies, had cost her all she’d built of her life.

At her age, she was already arousing suspicion by being childless. If things had been different, maybe the two of them would already have kids. He’d wanted them, but she denied it was her duty to have children at all. Strange thought, that.

David gently shut the book and carried it back to his dresser with both hands. Usually it was easier to find answers.

He slumped onto his bunk. He’d met Rachel for the first time at Testament Flight School, on New Rome. He still pictured her like that sometimes, in a flight jacket blue as the sky. She’d walked right up to him and said she planned to challenge his position as the top pilot in the school.

Not that there was ever a chance of that.

“You’re a Sentinel, right?” she’d said.

“Aye.”

“You don’t look so tough.”

David laughed. At almost 190 cm and well-muscled, he knew he looked damn tough. “You’re just mistakin’ my Calnehian charm, lass.”

That weekend, he’d taken her to dinner up in the Pinnacle, a soaring arboretum above the clouds. The sun reflected off its white sheen like the sparkle off a sea of diamonds, and looking down, you could see the endless fields and rivers of New Rome, just beyond the edge of the city proper. Most Mizraim citizens could never afford to visit the Pinnacle, much less live on New Rome. David had been lucky, even despite what had happened to his mum.

The view from the Pinnacle was not one you’d ever forget. Across from his bunk on the Logos, David had hung a painting his da had done of that view, the only decoration in his quarters. It reminded him of his da, who had never been the same after losing David’s mum. And it reminded him of Rachel, the only girl he’d ever taken there.

After her, it seemed wrong to take anyone else. Like it would tarnish the memory.

And Rachel had given him a lot of memories. David had graduated flight school first in his class, a Rephaite level pilot—the highest honor a pilot could achieve. The medal sat on his dresser, beside the Codex. It meant he was the top .01% of all pilots in the universe. His psionic gifts were strong, at least as far as navigating the Conduit went, and they had served him well.

And despite all the honors—and they were great—his memories of Rachel remained his most precious there. Children aside, he should have married the lass. If she hadn’t made it clear she wasn’t ready for children. If she hadn’t felt such an off rotation need to question every rule … David shook his head at the unwanted, and unexpected, thought. He had no business with such dreams.

She was always too headstrong, anyway. She could have waited for him, she could have stayed with him. But when he returned to duty, things turned sour. They’d seen each other face-to-face so rarely, and she couldn’t keep her opinions to herself.

She couldn’t keep from sabotaging her own career, and didn’t have enough respect for his. And now she was going to go after the Sefer Raziel with or without his help. It was just her way. If he did nothing, she’d die out there.

He ordered the Mazzaroth on. “Show me planet Gehenna.”

A red world orbiting a red dwarf filled the screen. Toxic atmosphere thick with ash and sulfur. A former penal colony, now an independent oligarchy owing allegiance to no major power. High levels of volcanic activity made much of the surface uninhabitable, and hellish cities made the rest a nightmare.

Population approximately five million. David swiped his hand, processing reams of data about the place. What madness had driven Rachel there? Was she so desperate to prove herself? Or so in need of money she’d take this risk?

Another swipe of his hand. The local government enforced their rule through a brutal peacekeeping force of soldiers with little accountability. Like their own private Sentinels, only without the rule of law. Another swipe. The ultimate enforcers were assassins called Gibborim, a handful of individuals given authorization to take any steps they deemed necessary in defense of the government.

David scratched his head. Rachel needed to get out of that place, and she wouldn’t leave until she got what she wanted. Too damn stubborn.

David sighed.

“Access all records on the Lazarus Group,” he said. “And the Sefer Raziel, side-by-side.”

The screen flickered, lining up pages of information.

David sighed again.

CHAPTER TEN

September 24th, 3096 EY

Before coming here I did what research I could on Gehenna, but it lies outside the Mizraim Empire, so information was limited. More than a thousand years ago the Angels established Gehenna as a penal colony. After the Vanishing, some six hundred years ago, the planet fell into chaos. From this chaos rose a faceless oligarchy calling themselves the Shadow Council—a secretive cabal that enforced despotic rule of this planet through assassins called the Gibborim.

With Knight in tow, Rachel had visited the Babel Bazaar once more, seeking leads, and, if she was honest, a good meal. She’d found neither. The bistro had advertised Andromedan curry, but the food was stale and lacked the tangy kick Rachel had hoped for. She had returned to the hotel with nothing to show for it.

Frustrated, she sunk down on her bed. Knight sat in a chair, watching her, so she stared at him, silently daring him to remark on her failures.

“Finding lost relics not so easy, huh?” he said.

Dare accepted.

Rachel glowered. “You could do better?”

“I didn’t make it my business.”

She gave him the finger and he snorted, giving her a faux salute.

“Incoming call,” the Mazzaroth chimed.

Rachel stood. David. Probably going to lecture her again. She shouldn’t have hung up on the self-righteous prick. He deserved better. “Receive.”

David’s handsome face flickered onto the screen. His short, light brown hair was slicked back. But it was his weary eyes that held her gaze the most. He was only a couple of years older than her, but he looked like more than that right now.

“Mac?”

“Rach. You’ve really got your heart set on this?”

“You know me.”

“Aye, too well.”

So he was going to help her. Rachel tried not to break into a grin, but she knew it was tugging at the side of her mouth. David couldn’t help himself, could he? God, she wished he was right here, so she could feel his emotions. The Conduit amplified psionic energies, but she couldn’t get an empathic read through the Mazzaroth.

Her crusade had cost her too much. Had cost him. Sometimes, she dreamed about him. She dreamed she had stayed on New Rome, given in to his obvious desire for children. They were good dreams. Except that countless generations continued on until the end of time—stagnant and unchanging, never moving forward. Never able to see beyond the past or grasp the future. And she’d wake, still trying to find the right words to make him see that. As if convincing just this one person would make it all worthwhile.

“Lass, you know these people are dangerous.”

“Yeah, I—”

She hadn’t seen Knight move, but suddenly he was beside her, hand over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’s got danger all around her.”

Rachel shrugged Knight’s arm off her shoulder. “What’re you doing?” A flare of jealousy lurked beneath his smile. The sickest of all emotions, perhaps, though a small part of her almost enjoyed it.

“Who’s this then?” David said.

Rachel glared at Knight. Perfect. Clearly she should have explicitly told Knight not to show himself. The man must need things laid out for him.

“My bodyguard, Mac. Don’t worry about it.”

From the look on his face, he was worried about it. “I’m not sure whether to be worried you need a bodyguard, or relieved you realized it in time to get one.”

Rachel pushed Knight away, and he stepped back out of the screen’s line of view. Too little too late. “Just be relieved,” she said. “This isn’t why you called …”

“No, it’s not,” he said, with that slight Calnehian accent of his, and as always, it made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. It reminded her of the things he’d coo while nuzzling her neck. “I did what you asked, God help me.”

“Thank you, Mac.” God seemed inclined to help her, at last. “And the Lazarus Group?”

“Intel says they’re running things out of a bunker in Machpelah, a city in Gehenna’s southern hemisphere. It’s near a vast caldera field, Rach. Big sulfuric geysers and so forth. Not a nice place.”

“Well, at least you could breathe there.” She brushed her hair away from her face.

“Not funny, lass. You don’t want to spend any more time there than you have to.”

Well that was an understatement. Rachel would be just as happy to leave Gehenna behind her. It’d make a fine story some evening, when she was toasting her successes in style, vindicated before her peers. What it didn’t make was a nice place to be in the here and now.

“I don’t know exactly where in Machpelah this bunker is. Intel on Gehenna is somewhat limited. The Empire never had too much interest in the planet.”

“It’s fine, Mac. It’s a place to start.”

David scratched his head. “Aye, it’s that. Rachel, I did some research about the Sefer, too. Someone in the Sentinels seems to think it’s real.”

She damn well hoped so, after all this.

“If it is, if an Angel really recorded the secrets of the universe, you know other people are gonna want this thing? Want it bad enough to …”

“Yeah.”

David smiled at her, though his eyes looked sad. “Aye. I’ve got to report for duty.”

“Mac … Thanks.” Rachel stilled the impulse to blow him a kiss. A foolish thought. They’d been down that road and it had led nowhere. In a perfect universe, things would have been different, and maybe he’d have left his post for her. Or maybe she’d still be teaching, and everything would be like it was.

But the universe had more than one flaw. And she could only be expected to solve one at a time.

David nodded. “Mazzaroth off.”

She sighed.

“Helpful guy,” Knight said.

“Shut up.” A tremble started in her chest, and she had to clench her fists to still it. Had she made a mistake back then? Should she have tried harder?

But if she let doubt cloud her path now, she’d fail. Nothing would change, and humanity would remain mired in the weight of traditions imposed on them.

But then … she could have David. His face almost told her as much. They could go back to New Rome, raise a family. Even Jeremiah might forgive her. Void, if she got pregnant, he’d probably take it as a sign, even raise a toast in her honor.

“To Machpelah, then?” Knight said.

This was about more than her life. It was about the lives of those same children she was thinking of. “To Machpelah,” she agreed. “Does the monorail go there, or do we need a shuttle?”

Knight stretched. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Rachel nodded, and he left. She started to pack, then realized she didn’t really have anything here to take. She really needed to buy some new clothes. Some of the plain brown wraps locals wore might be in order.

True to his word, Knight returned quickly. She followed him downstairs, where he had parked a hoverbike. The thing was black and chrome, far duller than the racing bikes she’d tried on the New Rome tracks. Scratches marred some surfaces. This thing had been through a fight, probably several.

“You’re going to drive that to Machpelah?”

“It’s best we have our own transportation in an unfamiliar city.”

“You’ve never been there?”

Knight frowned, and straddled the bike. “Once or twice. I know the way.” He tossed her a helmet. “Get on.”

Really, there was no point in arguing. Having their own ride would be an asset. With a sigh, she sat down behind Knight, wrapping her arms around his waist.

When he turned on the bike the windshield extended upward, providing some cover. The bike hummed, then lifted a few feet off the ground. It wasn’t as smooth a ride as the racers she was used to, but it had power. They took off down the road, at perhaps 120kph. Knight zoomed through the Beeroth streets with practiced ease, bobbing and weaving around other hovers.

In moments they were leaving the city behind, and open wasteland spread out in front of them. Knight accelerated, and the bike kicked up past 300kph and faster. A gravity field split the wind in front of them, keeping her from being thrown off, but it was damn loud. Talking would be impossible, and she still had to hold tight.

His emotions surged. Was it her hands around his abdomen, or just the thrill of the speed? A stronger empath might be able to tell the difference. But really, it didn’t matter. She felt herself warm from the closeness, from the feel of his hard muscles beneath his armor.

But Knight wasn’t an option. He was too far off rotation, too dangerous. Instead, she entertained herself by picturing David’s smirk when he’d win a race, his good-natured jibes.

Lightning coursed from black clouds in the sky ahead. She never heard thunder. To the left, a geyser spewed vapors and ash, perhaps a kilometer away from the road. Knight accelerated, but otherwise paid it no mind.

Few hovers traveled the road between cities. The planet was so empty. Like the whole population hid in a few cities, trying to forget the world they lived on. Moments later, Knight zipped around a cargo transport, hovering a bit higher off the road.

Rachel glanced down. Road might have been a stretch. It was a designated travel lane, but hardly paved. The markers every hundred meters or so must have just indicated areas clear of the geysers.

If she still had her ear comm she could at least talk to him. But now that she thought about it, she’d never seen Knight with a comm, either. Who in the holy universe carried no comm? Well, except for her—but she’d had reason to cast hers aside.

It must have been two hours before another city crested the skyline. It was smaller than Beeroth, but no less oppressive. Dark metal towers reached into the sky like fingers trying to dig their way out of a mire. The ash and pollution thickened over the city, hiding even the dim red sunlight she’d seen on occasion on the way here.

This was Machpelah. And somewhere in that twisted city she’d find the Lazarus Group.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gehenna lies in the Pegasus Dwarf Galaxy, most of which falls under Mizraim jurisdiction. However, the Empire never showed interest in Gehenna, perhaps because a world so near the Expanse of Nod—a world without any natural resources—was simply not worth the effort to claim. Most of the rest of the universe was content to let the Shadow Council play their meaningless power games, trapped on their hellhole much as if it were still a prison.

The truth was, Machpelah wasn’t much different than Beeroth. The city was a bit smaller, with a population of perhaps a million people. But the architecture, clothes, and people all seemed about the same to Rachel.

“How do you plan to locate them?” Knight asked, after she booked a room in another hotel. They were high up, higher than she’d wanted, on the fortieth story. It’d be hard to make an escape from here, if it came to that. But then, she didn’t intend to spend much time in the room.

She shrugged. “It’s not like we can just check an information directory. But money tends to open a lot of doors.”

“True. You want me to handle it?”

Rachel frowned. It might make it easier if she let him, but that would mean trusting him completely. It was hard to throw full trust in someone only interested in the money. Besides, she needed to see this through herself. “No. I’ll come with you.”

“I suppose you want to sample the local cuisine first.”

Rachel smirked, but shook her head. “Later.”

They spent the next two days combing the city. Rachel had lost count of how many kesitahs she’d spent on bribes. Funny, currency she’d once considered next to worthless had started to add up. It was so easy to spend more money than you realized when using foreign coin.

“This guy, they say he knows,” Knight said, as they headed for Club Migdal. No sign announced the club, but Knight seemed to know where they were going. He led her down a staircase to an underground airlock.

“What is this place, anyway?”

“A pit fighting club. The rich sometimes come here to bet on martial artists in the ring.” He hit the buzzer, and the airlock whooshed open. “The government knows about these places, and doesn’t do anything to stop them as long as the owners keep a low profile.”

“Why would the government even care?”

Knight glanced at her. “Even on Gehenna, death matches are frowned on.”

What? “You mean the fights are to the death?”

Knight didn’t answer, just stepped through the airlock into the club when it opened.

“Why would anyone take that chance?” she asked.

Knight paused and spoke into her ear. “Suits put a lot of money into it. A good fighter could make a small fortune. A half dozen fights with the right backer, and you might not have to work for years.”

“Then why don’t you do this?” she asked before she could stop herself. She’d seen Knight kill people just for the money she was paying him. The thought made her stomach squirm. It was too easy to forget what he was, to start to like him. To feel that edge of warmth under his simmering mass of rage and tension. Somewhere, deep down, he wasn’t all bad, but he was out of control.

“Attracts a lot of attention from those suits, like I said. People in my line of work don’t want attention.”

Wonderful. So he boycotted the blood sport not out of principle, or even fear of death, but out of desire to remain anonymous.

Rachel drifted through the club, scanning for anyone matching the description she’d been given. A man in his forties, trim black hair, silver eyes. Save the eyes, dozens of people could have fit that profile.

“That’s him,” Knight said a few minutes later, a jerk of his head indicating a man watching the pit.

“How can you be—”

“It’s him.”

Rachel glowered. “I wish you’d stop interrupting—”

“Are you going to talk to him or am I?”

“I’ll do it,” she said. “I wouldn’t want him driven to suicide in frustration.”

The sudden roar of the crowd made her jump. Down in the pit, a giant of a man, probably over 210cm, had caught a smaller man in a headlock. He must be an Anakim, one of the bloodlines the Angels had developed. Anakim were designed for high gravity worlds, larger, stronger, and very tough.

The victim’s eyes bulged as the Anakim squeezed. He beat vainly against the giant’s arm, and then was still.

The Anakim lifted his opponent over his head, then slammed him down over his knee. The sickening crack of a spine snapping echoed through the club, drowned out immediately by more cheers. Bile rose in Rachel’s throat.

Much as she wanted to look away, her eyes locked on the still victim, his body bent at an odd angle. These people were monsters. Could she blame the Angels for putting their ancestors here? Or did growing up in such a place create the monsters? Was the predisposition toward violence and crime genetic? Or just a result of this place itself? Imprisoned without a charge or crime, condemned to fight for survival, this world had given rise to men like that Anakim.

And men like Knight.

She threaded her way through the throng while the giant shouted for more challengers. Her target spotted her coming his way, met her gaze, then turned and began forcing his way through the crowd. Son of a bitch was running.

“Knight!”

She glanced back at Knight, who wended his way toward her.

And beyond him, at least a dozen Gehennan soldiers in battle armor had taken up position. “Everyone on the floor!” a soldier shouted, his voice distorted by his helm.

“Raid!” someone cried.

The crowd turned to chaos in a heartbeat. A few, those nearest the soldiers, obeyed and dropped to their knees.

The soldier pointed at Rachel. “That’s her. Take her alive.”

Holy shit. Rachel couldn’t quite swallow. They couldn’t really be here for her. Government troops? An illegal pit fight, and they’d come for her? No, it wasn’t possible. How would the Gehennans even know?

“Run!” Knight shouted. He was beside her, shoving her away from the soldiers.

He leapt onto the rail surrounding the pit and sprinted toward the soldiers. One opened fire with a MAG rifle. A working MAG.

Knight spun horizontally through the air, avoiding the slugs while he pulled something from his coat. A small sword? The blade extended, becoming a weapon almost a meter long, with a slight curve.

Knight swung the blade at the soldier and it cut right through the MAG, splitting it in half.

Rachel almost stumbled. God, how was that possible? No blade should cut through even the outer shell, much less the rail.

“Run!” Knight shouted again, as the Gehennan troopers moved in on him. One tried to attack him with a long knife, while another leveled some kind of pointed rod at him.

One of the soldiers flung a grenade at her. Rachel dove to the ground and slapped it away. It exploded into the crowd, releasing an electrical cloud that dropped everyone nearby into convulsions on the floor.

Shit, shit, shit! She pushed herself up and jumped down into the pit. The three meter fall stung her ankles, though she landed in a crouch. David was right. She was in over her head. Redeemers were bad enough, but now an entire government was hunting her, too.

There was a side door in the pit, and the Anakim had flung it open. Rachel dashed after him. Gunfire retorted above her head. Something exploded.

She never should have come here.

She ran down the hall. Suddenly the giant stopped, backing up. Ahead of him, a soldier was pointing another of those rods.

“Surrender,” the soldier said.

The Anakim roared and charged him. The rod jerked and a half-meter spike launched from it. The lance struck the giant in the chest and hurled him back into Rachel. The impact threw her down. Numbing shocks ran through her elbows where they hit the floor.

She could still escape. Single shot projectile weapon, its ammunition spent. One soldier. She could escape one man. She rose to her knees and let the man approach. He shoved her against the wall and tried to restrain her hands behind her back.

She stomped on his foot and slammed her shoulder into his chest. The armor probably stopped any real harm, but an oomph escaped the man, and he released her.

Rachel took off at a dead run, dashing around the next corner and then the next. Stairs led back up to the main level.

Where was Knight? Those soldiers were going to kill him.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Others were still fleeing out a back door into the alley, crowding the airlock.

Rachel pressed on her breather and pushed her way into the airlock. Knight could take care of himself. There was nothing she could do for him right now.

CHAPTER TWELVE

In truth, I think the Gehennan history bears further study. It represents a useful look at the reality of human nature. If we are to rise above ourselves, our basic instincts, we must understand them. And what better place to see our truest, darkest selves than a world like Gehenna, a world where all comforts are stripped away?

Knight rammed his mono sword into the belly of a soldier. A splatter of blood gushed out, covering his coat. Behind him, another one was bringing a MAG pistol to bear. Knight snapped his foot out, slamming the MAG against the pit rail and pinning it there.

He snapped his palm into a third man’s face, then spun back and grabbed the man trying to free his MAG. Knight turned the fool round, bent him over his own MAG, and pulled the trigger. He tossed the volatile weapon at the helmet of a soldier rushing him with a mono sword.

His heart pounded in his chest. His adrenaline soared. Everyone else moved in slow motion. He could always count on his reflexes. He yanked his sword free from the dying soldier, ducked under the blow of the newest attacker, and chopped the man’s sword arm off.

A sudden sense of unease told him someone took aim at him. Knight flipped sideways through the air, landing on the rail again, and evaded a lancerod bolt. The bolt impaled a civilian behind where Knight had just stood.

Knight kicked off the rail, jumped on a man’s shoulders, and leapt to the wall. He kicked off it, landing in a crouch behind the soldier with the lancerod. A swipe of the sword severed both of the man’s legs.

More gunfire rang to the side. A pair of soldiers rushed him, mono swords high. Knight waited for them to close, then jerked to the side, using them against each other. His own blade cleaved through armor with little effort, cutting down the first man.

The second tried to reposition. Knight kicked out his knee, grabbed the man’s sword, and rammed it right through his faceplate.

A lancerod clicked. The world fell into stillness as Knight turned, seeing the trajectory. He twisted, almost fast enough, as the missile flew through the air. It caught the edge of his coat. He felt the impact, but the nanobots in the mesh absorbed and distributed the kinetic energy.

Rachel had to be free by now. She’d gone down into the pit. Chances were, more troops would show up soon. Knight jumped onto another charging fool, kicking off his face, and flipped into the pit.

He landed in a crouch, then launched himself forward through the tunnel. The champion was dead down there. Knight leapt onto the wall for two steps, going over the massive body, and kept running.

He reached the back lobby, a secret escape into the alley. The suits had to have a way out in case of a raid. Rachel wasn’t here. At least the damn girl had run like he’d said. Now where was she? She was his ticket off this rock, and no way was he letting her slip through his fingers.

He shoved others out of the way and entered the airlock, buzzing it closed. Damn things took too long. Especially for those who didn’t need breathers. He recompressed his mono sword and tucked it back inside his coat. More soldiers were out here, rounding people up.

Knight slipped into the shadows, not making a sound. He scrambled up crevices on the wall, then kicked off it to reach the next building. This one had windows. Perfect handholds. He leapt sideways from one to the next, ascending to the roof, five stories above.

Thunder rumbled. More rain was coming.

Just what he needed.

From the edge of the roof he scanned the alleys. Soldiers had rounded up a lot of patrons, but not Rachel. He sprinted to the other side of the building. She was there, off another alley, talking to her lead.

She’d actually found the guy with the silver eyes. Impressive.

She’d wind up in danger again within the next five minutes, though. Another building, a story lower, stood across the street, perhaps five meters. Knight backed away from the edge, took a deep breath, and ran. He kicked off the roof ledge and flew through the air. His coattails streamed out behind him.

A heartbeat of freedom. Soaring.

He landed in a roll on the lower roof, coming immediately back to his feet into another run. He turned, leaping to another building, and catching a balcony on the second story. He released his grip, then caught the lower ledge. Then he let go and landed in a crouch.

Rachel would be just around the other corner. As long as the target hadn’t moved, he should have his back to this alley. Knight slipped around the corner, keeping to the shadows. Never let them see you until it’s too late. That was always the way.

“Look, it’s ten thousand kesitahs,” Rachel said, trying to press some chips at the suit. “Just take the money and tell me where to find these people.”

“You’re fucking off rotation if you think I’m getting involved, bitch. Those were government soldiers. What’s next, Gibborim?”

Knight grabbed the man’s shoulder, eliciting a shout from him and a muffled cry from Rachel. He flung the suit against the wall. “Don’t want money? Fine. You still have to answer the question.”

The man rubbed his shoulder and glared at Knight. Then he went for something in his coat. Knight grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted. A knife clattered to the ground. Knight slammed his palm down on the man’s forearm. The bone snapped with a sharp crack and the suit fell, screaming.

“Angels above!” he moaned. “You broke my arm.”

“Knight!” Rachel said.

Knight leaned down to look in the suit’s face. “It’s okay. She’s going to give you the money to get it fixed. Start talking before your hospital stay becomes more expensive. Right now, you’re still making a profit.”

“Fuck you, you—”

Knight punched him across the jaw. The man’s head snapped back against the wall, and he slumped to the ground, gurgling something incomprehensible.

“Knight!” Rachel said again. “Void, man!”

He barely glanced at her. “Sooner or later those soldiers are going to catch up to us. This has gotten a lot bigger than it was a day ago. Now it’s time to get this information and get the fuck out of here.” He turned back to the suit. “Tell her what she wants to know. Now.”

The man glared up at him, blood trickling down his chin.

Fine. Knight grabbed him by the chin and pulled him to his feet. “Do you like the other arm?”

“Wait!” Tears slipped from his eyes, whether from pain or fear, Knight didn’t know. Or care.

He was getting his money and getting out of here. Now that the government was involved, time was short for Rachel, and maybe even shorter for him. The moment the Shadow Council learned he was involved, things would turn very, very ugly.

“Please, I’ll tell you… They have a safe house in the Beulah District. Underground, marked with the sign of the serpent. Please, just let me go.”

Knight did, and the man fell back onto the ground, cradling his arm. “Come on,” he said to Rachel.

She trotted after him. “Don’t you even care about the pain you’ve caused?”

“Do you?”

“Of course I care! That’s why I told you to—”

“Not what I was asking.” He shook his head, continuing his circuitous route back to the bike. Best avoid the whole area of the club, as much as possible. “Do you care about the pain you’re causing? Your mission for this Sefer, whatever it is, has led to dozens of deaths, conspiracies, and God knows what else.”

Rachel stopped for a moment, stumbling over her own feet. “Wait a minute, you’re the one who killed most of those people.”

“Because of a situation you created. And you’re being naive if you think those are the only victims of this. You’ve got megacorps and the Gehennan oligarchy after you. I can guarantee there are more people hurt by this than you know.”

“I’m trying to change the future.”

“Tell yourself whatever you want. It doesn’t change the truth.”

Rachel pulled him around to face her. She still wore the headscarf, and though he couldn’t see her mouth because of the breather, her eyes glowered. “You talk like you care about other people. Deep down, maybe there’s a part of you that does. But you’re the one breaking bones!”

Who the void did she think she was? He sneered at her. “Don’t put this on me. You came looking for a warrior, because you’d managed to get dangerous men after you. Now, I’m all you’ve got.” He turned the next corner and hopped on the bike. “So get on.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Angels had always forbade mankind to journey into the Expanse of Nod. After the Vanishing, some people did—most never returned. The Redeemers claimed the region was damned, and those who ventured there deserved their fate. And yet, pirates and privateers began to take up hiding in the Expanse, knowing even Sentinels would hesitate to pursue them inside. Without doubt, the Angels chose Gehenna for their prison because most people would fear to even get close to this system.

Rachel climbed onto the back of Knight’s hoverbike. “We should go for that safe house now.”

“The soldiers are already looking for you,” he said. “Every minute we spend in this city—”

“Then we’d best do this before they realize where we’re going.”

Knight shook his head and sighed. “Put on the helmet. Let’s get this done.”

Rachel did, and Knight started the bike again. It lifted off, and he drove fast, but not fast enough to draw attention. It took less than ten minutes to get to the Beulah District. Her bodyguard seemed to know where he was going—fairly well considering he’d said he’d only been here once or twice.

There were far too many things she didn’t know about this man. He’d tortured that guy, almost without a thought. Rachel didn’t have any love for the vile little informant either, but Knight had crossed a line he didn’t even seem to know was there. And yet, an hour ago, hadn’t she been thinking she couldn’t judge him, that circumstances had led him to where he was?

She hopped off the bike and stowed the helmet. “Do you know where this serpent building is?”

“No.” He took off his own helmet and powered down the bike. A moment later, he started walking, again almost like he knew where he was going. “You know this mission of yours is off rotation, right?”

Rachel grit her teeth and said nothing. The Sefer Raziel was said to reveal the location of the Ark, the repository of all Angel knowledge. With that, the entire universe would change. Humanity would finally have the understanding to rise up and reach its next stage. To break away from rules and traditions that had dominated them for thirty-one centuries.

“Haven’t you ever wondered about the truth, Knight?” she said after a moment. “Where do we come from? What else is out there? Why the rules about the Conduit? What is the Conduit really? How can we speak to God ourselves?”

“Not really. I wonder about when I’ll get paid, where I’ll get my next meal, whether the man watching us from the far alley is a threat, or if whoever is moving behind the shades in that window has a gun.”

Beaten down by the practical. Rachel sighed. Could she really blame him? However off rotation her father may have been, she and her brothers had always had food, a safe place to stay, all the comforts of the elite.

“That looks like it,” he said, pointing to a building matching her reluctant informant’s description. “What now?”

Rachel shut her eyes. Indeed. David made it clear these people were dangerous criminals. They weren’t going to share, and they weren’t going to cooperate. She sighed and looked him right in the face. “This is too big to let some fringe group control the answers. We have to get whatever they know. But Knight, don’t kill anyone.”

He shook his head. “Not going to promise that. I’ll do my best, but I have to take whatever steps are necessary, when they’re needed. You want this info so badly, face the consequences of that desire.” With that, he strode toward the building marked with the serpent.

Rachel swallowed hard, then trotted off after him. He’d really kill more people for her, whether she wanted him to or not. And by pressing forward with this, was she responsible for their deaths?

She had to focus. She’d come this far. There was no turning back. “How are we going to get past the airlock?” If this place was secure then surely they’d need a code to open it.

Knight pointed to the windows at the building above. “Reinforced glass. Tough, but not indestructible.”

Okay. But how was he going to get up there?

Knight drew the sword from his coat and extended it again. Then he took off running toward the building, and ran up it, three steps. He lunged with the blade and it pierced the window with a slight shriek. The glass was too thick to shatter, but his weight pulled the sword down until he got a foot on the windowsill to support himself. He carved out a circle in the window, then kicked it in.

A moment later he tucked his legs through the hole and bent over backwards, hanging by his knees and extending a hand down to her. She ran and jumped to grab it, then climbed up his body, trying not to notice the sudden turn of his emotions as she climbed over his midsection.

He slipped through the hole after her.

“Are you using a GD?” she asked.

“What?”

“A gravity dilator? Is that how you did that?”

She’d heard Sentinels sometimes had the devices built into their suits. She’d even used the device a few times, recreationally, for balcony diving.

“No.” He strode down the hall, almost at a run. She followed. A guard with a breather tried to stop Knight, going for some kind of rod at his side. Knight caught him with a fist to the stomach and stripped off the breather. A pair of men were gasping for breath further down the hall, caught too far out of reach of breathers.

Knight had cut out the window and flooded this place with toxic gas. How his sword had done so was another question. It must have been a monofilament blade, like he mentioned before. But she wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed. A conversation for another time.

A woman armed with a two-meter-long staff tried to stop Knight, though she was clearly having trouble breathing. He shoved her against the wall and then down a staircase. Knight dashed down the stairs past the fallen woman without pause. Rachel trotted after, stopping to check if the woman was alive. She lived, though if someone didn’t patch the window, there would be more deaths on her conscience.

Keep the focus. There was nothing she could do about that now.

Knight sprinted down another staircase and Rachel was hard-pressed to keep up. Not only were his reflexes preternaturally fast, he ran and moved like nothing she’d ever seen. It was still a bit hard to believe he hadn’t violated the First Commandment.

Down in the basement, a group of men and women stood inside a sealed lab, clearly concerned, but not apparently armed. The airlock that separated them had only a buzzer, which meant no lock.

In the center of the lab was a tablet projecting a holographic image onto the walls. Dozens of screens were filled with notes and records. God, could that really be it? The Sefer Raziel?

Knight hit the buzzer to the airlock, and Rachel followed him inside. These people weren’t just looking for the Sefer. They’d found it. And might have been on the way to unlocking the path to the Ark itself.

“Stop!” one of them shouted as Knight came through.

“Give us the Sefer and we won’t hurt you,” Rachel said.

“No!” Two of the men ran at Knight.

He moved like lightning, ducking their clumsy attacks. He slammed his hand like a knife under the arm of one and back into the ribs of the other. They both collapsed to the floor. The woman pulled a rod from beneath her coat and moved on him. The rod telescoped out, becoming one of those staffs. Damn. Neat weapon for a place where she’d seen several MAGs jam already. Nothing compared to Knight’s mono sword, of course.

Knight tripped her, then fell knees-first onto her chest and punched her across the face. She lay still, and he left her be, then grabbed the tablet off the center table. In an instant, the hologram shut off and the images vanished from the walls. “This it?” he asked, handing her the tablet.

God, it had to be. These people seemed to practically venerate the thing. She nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

They returned through the airlock. “I guess we can just go out the front door,” she said.

Knight shrugged, and headed up the stairs to the first level. Rachel followed just behind, then turned from the staircase toward the main hall.

The airlock opened.

A man entered, clad in black armor similar to Gehennan soldiers, but this was sleeker. A mask covered his mouth and nose, a green-lit visor over his eyes. His armor had a gray insignia that looked like the old Greek letter Lambda.

Before she could even ask, Knight grabbed her and yanked her back to the stairs. “Go!” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Back the way we came in, now!”

“What?” One soldier suddenly worried him?

“Go!” He shoved her, and she ran up the stairs.

He raced down the hall, then stopped at the window. Glancing down. “They’ve sent a Gibborim. We need to get out of this city, right now.”

Rachel nodded. David had said something about government assassins. Anything that worried Knight sounded like something she didn’t want to mess with. She tucked the tablet inside her jacket and climbed back out the window.

The moment she dropped down, Knight followed her, landing beside her in a crouch. He grabbed her and yanked her along behind him, at a pace she could barely match. He dashed around two alleys and back to the hoverbike.

“Get on.” He started it without waiting for her, so she jumped on the back.

Knight cranked it up and shot away even before she was settled, and she had to clutch her arms around him to catch herself.

She had the Sefer.

God, she really had it.

The secrets of the Angels would unfold before her. The Sefer Raziel had recorded the way to all the truths long concealed from mankind.

Everything she’d lost … Everyone she’d lost to get here. Her career, her family. David. They’d all see now. With the Ark she’d save humanity from themselves. Not everyone would understand, not at first. But one day, one day mankind would rise up and find its true purpose—not in blind obedience, but in struggling to rise above itself.

And maybe then she and David could find a way…

Knight’s hoverbike sped away from Machpelah. If they had been a minute slower getting here, the Gibborim might have gotten there first. It seemed even the Gehennan government was looking for the Sefer. How had they found out?

It didn’t matter now. No one—not the Redeemers, the Lazarus Group, or the Gehennans—no one was going to take this away from her.

She had to pat the tablet inside her jacket to reassure herself it was still there.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

September 25th, 3096 EY

I have found it. Everyone, all those at NRU who doubted me, even Mac, they’ll see now I was right.

When they returned to Beeroth, Knight bypassed the Royal Palace.

“What’s going on?” Rachel shouted, trying to be heard over the hum of the bike and the roar of the wind.

Knight shook his head, so she just held on, wondering what he was up to now. He drove her to a run-down area of the city where half the apartments didn’t even seem to have lights on, and most of the others had no windows at all. Knight parked the bike in an underground garage.

“What are we doing here?” Rachel asked. This place looked like the worst Gehenna had to offer—which was saying something.

“It’s too dangerous to go back to the hotel. The government is looking for us now. They’ll start by checking places like that.”

Rachel frowned. She should have thought of that herself. Excitement over the Sefer might be getting the best of her. “So what’s this place?”

“I live here.”

Oh.

She followed him to an airlock, then up a flight of stairs. All the doors they passed were closed. No name plates, no sign of other people, save the flicker of lights under a few doors. Not the kind of place where you had tea with the neighbors.

Knight’s apartment was around the first corner. Predictably, it had a key card lock. Maybe a guy like him wouldn’t want a DNA or retinal scanner anyway. He swiped the card, and yanked open the door.

A light flickered on inside, revealing a dirty mess. A handful of clothes were littered on the sofa, dishes crowded the breakfast bar, and not a single decoration added any life to the place. Nothing except a set of odd hand-to-hand weapons hanging on the wall.

Rachel walked over to the display. There was another sword, similar to the one Knight had with him, and an empty set of hangars. More interestingly, a knife blade hung there, attached to a short handle by a wire-thin cord. “What is this?”

Knight approached behind her. He made no noise when he walked, but she could feel his presence, the warmth of his body as he stood a little too close. His emotions had jumbled, a mix of anxiety, attraction, and maybe even a slight hint of caring. “A mono katana and mono kyoketsu.”

Well that was helpful. “What does that even mean, exactly?”

Knight turned her to face him, his hands firm on her arm as he pulled her around. For a moment, he watched her eyes, and she felt her pulse quicken. What did he intend here? Because she wasn’t about to let anything happen. No way. She couldn’t.

After a few breaths he drew the other sword from his coat. “The sword compresses for concealment, but the important thing is the monofilament—a monomolecular edge of carbon nanotubes.”

Rachel grunted in sudden understanding. A strand of super-bonded molecules like that would be able to sever other molecules, meaning it could cut through most substances and never lose its edge. No wonder Knight had been able to cleave through metal, armor, and reinforced glass so easily. “And the kio-whatsit?”

Knight shook his head, smirking a little, and hung the sword on the wall. “Kyoketsu. A retractable whip knife using the same technology. More dangerous to wield.”

Rachel nodded, and moved to the couch, pushing aside a shirt she hoped was clean so she could sit. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat?”

Knight gave her that lazy double salute again. “I’ll bring us a pizza. Don’t leave while I’m gone.”

Where would she go?

Knight went for the pizza—odd to think a guy like him enjoyed pizza. But then, why not? For all his bravado, all his attempts to come off as this apathetic killer, he was still just another guy. Wasn’t he?

Rachel took a quick tour of the apartment. Other than the washroom, it was a single open room. A small kitchen and breakfast bar, the sofa in front of the wall screen, and an open area in one corner—the only clean spot in the entire place. A mat covered the floor in that corner. Where he trained?

She paused, confused. Something was missing. The whole place had no bed? What kind of apartment had no bed?

Rachel returned to the couch. A pile of take-out boxes covered the coffee table. Underneath, she found a pamphlet. She flipped it open to a view of the Pinnacle on New Rome.

A travel brochure. It showed off the stark white buildings and golden lights that composed the capital city, the crystal clean canals that connected the world, and the hover races on the southern plateau. The back side mentioned the exorbitant prices to lease property there.

A few minutes later Knight returned with a piping hot pizza. The smell of garlic, onions, and foreign peppers filled the room and set her stomach growling. She hadn’t eaten in—honestly, she wasn’t sure how long. Almost a day, probably.

“You’re paying for this,” he said, setting the pizza on the coffee table.

“Yeah, okay.” No surprise. “You don’t keep much stuff, do you?” She grabbed a slice of pizza and inhaled the scents briefly before digging in.

“A man needs few things outside his purpose.”

Rachel laughed, almost choking on her pizza. “His purpose? And that long hair, so carefully styled to look unstyled and rugged, all black leather… all that’s not an affectation? You try so hard to make people think you don’t care what anyone thinks, but you obviously do.”

Knight scowled and folded his arms.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I’m teasing you. It’s not a bad thing that you’re human like the rest of us. You don’t have to work so hard to seem so professional all the time. How about this New Rome thing,” she said, nudging the brochure. “Even you want a vacation, huh?”

A sudden shock ran through her, like a wall had slammed down over his emotions. His eyes narrowed, then he stalked off to the washroom. “I need a shower.”

What had just happened? She sighed. She hadn’t meant to offend him. But he really should lighten up a bit. The man was wound so tight he’d snap one day. Maybe it wasn’t her problem. The mess of contradictions going on inside his brain was more than she could sort out, even if she wanted to try.

Besides, she had the Sefer. She took out the tablet and turned it on.

A hologram displayed, showing a series of symbols and diagrams. She passed her hand through it and it flipped to another section. It was some kind of code. She paged through it. Hundreds of pages of code …

Her mind wouldn’t focus. God, this was going to take forever. She needed to get off Gehenna before anyone found her. But if the Sefer led her to something here, then leaving would only make things more complicated.

Knight had protected her, he’d done his job. She supposed she should pay him. Especially if she was thinking of staying here a few more days. And maybe she should apologize. Antagonizing him … she didn’t think she had anything to fear from him, but still. Maybe he didn’t deserve that. Let him have his eccentricities. Everyone had secrets, she supposed. Herself included.

He came out from the washroom in pants, but shirtless, revealing hardened muscles and a fair number of scars. Cuts, scratches, maybe even slug wounds. It didn’t surprise her that she could make out every chiseled muscle of his abdomen. It did, however, leave her feeling a little flushed, and damn glad he wasn’t an empath. If he could feel what she felt right now … God help her, the man was a killer. Besides, part of her still dreamed of working things out with David. She could show him the Sefer, prove she’d been right about everything. He’d come back to her then.

She forced her eyes away from Knight’s abdomen. Look at his face. “New Rome is a beautiful place,” she said.

His eyes went blank. That wall was there. Not like a man trained to fight off empaths, but like a man trained to hide his feelings even from himself. “What do you know about it?” It wasn’t a question, more an accusation.

Rachel leaned back on the couch. “I grew up there. My family was rich, corporate background. But I didn’t get on very well with them. Not after I was a teenager. I moved out to go to university as soon as I could.”

Knight’s face lost a bit of its edge. “Is it … can you really look down on white clouds?”

“From the upper stories of buildings or the Pinnacle, sure.”

His face was unreadable, but an almost child-like awe drifted off him. It was like rays of light, poking at her consciousness through holes in his armor. At last he sat down beside her and grabbed a slice of pizza. He didn’t speak until he’d finished eating it. “The water is really clear, and blue?”

The closeness of him, the tentative, almost fearful opening of his emotions left her a little lightheaded. But she found herself smiling, just a bit. “So clear you can see the shimmering bottom of some of the canals. Once David and I went rafting down a canal and passed over a school of rainbow fish. It was beautiful.” She paused for a moment, drinking in the slight anticipation of his emotions, which set her skin tingling. “You’ve never been off Gehenna, have you?”

Knight licked his fingers clean of pizza sauce, then stared at the blank screen when he answered. “Kesitahs don’t convert to much. It’s damn hard to earn the kind of money I’d need to make it to New Rome.”

“That’s where you want to live … That’s why you wanted to be paid in Mizraim credits.”

“Would you want to live here?”

Shit no. “Even paradise has its flaws, Knight.” Sometimes, she’d almost choose the overt horror of a place like this over the subtle fear, the knowledge that your every action was watched and judged against the weight of doctrine. Someone was always watching, always telling you how to live.

Rachel pulled off her headscarf, then brushed out her hair. She could feel it, when his interest sparked, when his arousal piqued, and she couldn’t help but luxuriate in it, drawing out each motion. “Listen, Knight, sorry if I overstepped myself earlier. It’s not my business how you … It’s your life.” She pulled credit chips from her jacket. “It’s most of what I owe you. But I need you to let me stay a few days, until I figure this Sefer out. I’ve got to break the code, I’ve got to know what it offers.”

If she turned it over to Galizur and Quasar Industries without solving it herself, she couldn’t be guaranteed they would share the knowledge. In fact, QI was a megacorp specialized in weaponry and space technology. It was a reasonable bet they would want the secrets for themselves.

Oh, Galizur would pay regardless, but she had to do this for more than the money. The fate of humanity was at stake. If the Redeemers got the book, nothing would change. And in a way, that was the greatest tragedy. Mankind would remain forever mired in tradition, unable to think for itself or rise above its past. And if another megacorp claimed the Ark, with that kind of power, with that kind of technology, the edge might well allow them to overtake the entire Conglomerate. Void—they could well challenge Mizraim itself.

“We should leave Gehenna,” Knight said, though his underlying emotions drove at her core. Lust and desperation and … loneliness?

“Soon. I just need a bit more time.” Her voice sounded husky in her throat. She tried to focus. They’d really done it. He’d helped her get perhaps the most precious relic in the universe. He’d kept her alive and …

Knight moved to stand directly in front of her, and she felt her eyes drift down to his tight muscles. With him standing less than a meter away, she could see the faint lines of scars marring the otherwise perfect abs. Those weren’t just battle wounds. That crisscross of lightened skin had to come from torture. Angels above, what had this man been through?

She brushed her fingers over the scars and he shuddered. His lust surged, flowing through her like fine wine. She knew she was drunk on it. Dangers of empathy. If she didn’t push him away now she wouldn’t be able to stop … What was … Her heart trembled, her eyes blurry and intoxicated. Impossible to say where his desire ended and hers began.

She couldn’t do this. Shouldn’t …

She leaned back, pressing into the couch as he straddled her and began unbuttoning her shirt. Warmth and hunger and even pain filled her as he squeezed one of her breasts hard.

It had been so long.

Knight was dangerous. This was wrong. She still loved David …

“I can’t give you children …” she heard herself say. Not now. Not like this … Someday. Maybe.

An edge of disappointment jabbed at her, like stepping on a barb, but it faded. His hands grabbed her hips and pulled her to lay flat on the couch, then began to pull off her pants.

“There’s time for that later,” he said.

It was all too much.

It was all too much what she needed.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Everyone reads the Codex, but most never truly think about what it says. Mankind was supposed to live on a paradise called Eden, our homeworld. They said waters ran clear and humanity lived in peace, spreading to the edges of our solar system. Eden represents the dream, the delusion that there was once a time and place where humanity stood as one. We are taught we were cast from Eden for our sins. I doubt not that Eden existed, but rather whether it was truly paradise.

The last of the smuggler ships had thought to escape around the black hole at the center of the Milky Way. Maybe they thought their ship’s lower mass could break free more easily than the Logos. They were wrong.

David sat in the pilot’s chair, his teeth clenched, watching the smuggler ship fall into the hole. One agonizing second at a time its light faded away, slipping into the void of nothingness. Oblivion. David’s stomach lurched, though he tried not to show the crew.

Captain Waller stood grimly for a moment. At well over 200cm, the Anakim was like a pillar of power when he stood on the bridge. Everyone looked up to him—literally. “Well, that’s done. Maybe now we can get some real orders.” With that, the captain strode off the bridge.

But David remained where he was, eyes fixed on the horror before him. His mind knew he’d never really see them fall in—the ship grew dimmer on the boundary of the event horizon, but the process would seem to take eons to him. The black hole was distorting time from the perspective of those outside the event horizon. The smugglers fell slower and slower, until their motion stopped altogether.

At least, that was how it looked to the crew of the Logos. From the smugglers’ perspective, though, he knew they were falling. They’d know by now they could never escape. Nothing escaped. Not even light. They could delay the inevitable, but sooner or later, the tidal forces would rip them apart, stretching them like strands of noodles. And then all they were would feed the singularity, becoming one with the nothingness. Become the void.

“Commander?” Lieutenant Dana asked, her voice chipper. “Are we leaving? Because I’d be very happy to go, much as I’d miss this place.”

David swallowed, looking at the cold-worlder just to force his eyes from that thing. Her skin was pale, nearly white. Cold-worlders—Icies as some insultingly called them—had no natural color to their hair either, but Phoebe had dyed hers with pink highlights. “Aye, Phoebe. We’re going.”

A twist of his joystick brought the Logos around, heading back for the Conduit Gate. Man wasn’t meant to understand Angels, he knew, but still, he had to wonder why they’d ever build a gate to the galactic core—a supermassive black hole that would devour all matter, even light itself. He tried to remind himself that the singularity wasn’t evil, it just was. A smaller version in the ship’s core was driving all the systems of the Logos, was driving all full-size ships. They were necessary forces of creation, harnessed by the Angels. Like a sun. Vital to life, but don’t get too close. That was all.

There was no reason for his nightmares about falling in. About the slow descent into inevitable oblivion. About knowing all he was would slip out of existence, perhaps his very soul lost. No one was sure if even a soul could escape to heaven from the event horizon. The Codex only ever said not to cross one. Good advice.

The Conduit gate opened. It revealed a tunnel through space, shimmering in every conceivable color, some mankind had never named. The Conduit always reminded him of ice caves on Ekron, though iridescent and almost liquid-like.

He punched the joystick forward, diving in, his psionic senses immediately flaring to life. Tame outside the Conduit, they became super-charged in it. It was the network connecting the universe, and he was a part of it.

Infinite passageways unfolded in his mind. He had to choose quickly, because tidal forces here would drag them off course if they dawdled. In the Conduit you always had to be moving forward. Falter, second-guess yourself, delay—and you could be lost forever.

This was no place for doubt. No place for questions. This was the depths of the universe. A non-psychic trying to pilot this would become overwhelmed, lost or destroyed in moments. But people like David—or Rachel—they could feel the way through. They could see the paths as they opened, react quickly enough to choose the road.

He pushed her from his mind. No place for questions.

Time began to lose meaning here, too. Lost in infinite pathways, his mind so deep in the psychic trance, it could be easy to lose track of passing hours. It was like dreaming—you could never be sure if you’d lost a minute, an hour, or longer.

He pulled on the joystick, taking a fork toward the Ekron System. It was close, and they could use the relays there to get new orders from the Sanhedrin. The ship lurched as he approached the Gate. There was little visual marker, just a variance in the shimmering of the Conduit, but a Psych could feel the Gate.

As he approached, it burst forward like a bubble breaking, revealing normal space. The Logos jumped out of the Conduit and his ears popped. Their motion didn’t really slow, but it felt like it.

The sudden diminishing of his psionic senses was like being submerged in water, and it always left him woozy for a few heartbeats. For the infinite instant he flew the Conduit, he was one with the universe—like an Angel himself. And the sudden loss of it always made him want to weep, at least for a moment. No one spoke.

He shook it off and rose.

“Lieutenant, you have the bridge.”

“Yup, yup,” Phoebe said.

David found the captain in the war room. Waller always liked to wait in here. He was seventy-five, but his Anakim strength and stamina made him seem younger, and David had seen the fire in his heart. He had a thick salt-and-pepper beard and a strong head of hair.

“We’ve reached Ekron,” David said.

The captain scrubbed his beard. “Send a message to the Tabernacle.”

“Sir.” David turned to leave.

“McGregor,” Waller said, and David turned back. “Is this how you want to spend your time? Chasing smugglers into black holes?” Waller leaned heavily on the table, as if weighed down by his own words.

David turned. “Sir?”

“This ship was meant for more than that, don’t you agree?”

“Aye, sir.”

Waller sighed and sat at the table. “I should have been admiral by now. I was up for it last year, did you know that? Passed me over for … well, that doesn’t matter. Why should they choose me? What have I done lately but chase petty criminals around? We should be out there on the border, preparing for whatever the Asheran Confederacy plans.”

The Asheran Confederacy. Bloody bastards violated the First Commandment. Everyone knew it, even if the Sentinels lacked hard proof. For decades they’d pushed the boundaries, and sooner or later, someone would have to push back. Someone had tried.

“Sir. You know about my mother.”

Waller fixed him with an unnervingly steady gaze. “Everyone knows about it, McGregor. But I’ve seen you’re a good officer, and I’d wager what happened to the Balthazar wasn’t her fault. I knew her, you know, and she was a fine captain. It’s Asherah. They’re to blame for the whole incident.”

“Aye, sir.” David had never doubted it. Naomi McGregor had been a hero until the Balthazar Incident, and everyone blamed her for the loss of the ship to Asherah. Maybe he’d never know what happened, but David knew it wasn’t her fault.

“It should have been considered an act of war,” the captain said, then sat down. “I lobbied for it back then—I wasn’t a captain yet, so my voice didn’t count much. Instead we continue this half-wit standoff. They’re heretics, rebels. Mizraim is the legitimate heir to the Days of Glory, and all humanity should be united under us.”

Was all this an invitation to sit? David decided to take it as one, and sat across the table. “I’ve got more reason to hate Asherah than most, Captain. But you can’t really be suggesting we start a war? The Days of Glory ended six hundred years ago. The Asheran Confederacy may only control four galaxies, but taking those from them would be—”

“Glorious. That’s the kind of act one needs to draw the eyes of the Sanhedrin. You think an Imperator cares about what we’re doing here?”

“Aye, I suspect Vibbard does.” Imperator Vibbard oversaw the Milky Way, and would look kindly on Sentinels helping keep order there.

Waller waved the comment away. “McGregor, you know which captains they watch? Those on the borders. Those making strides for the Empire, not chasing down smugglers.” Waller paused. “I feel you disapprove, Commander.”

Shite, was the captain in his head? David thought he’d know if the man was actually reading his mind, so probably he was just sensing his emotions. “Sir, I don’t disapprove, I only feel it’s not our place to question our orders. The work we’re doing here isn’t glamorous, but it does matter. We’re keeping order in the Empire.”

“You have to be bold, man. You know that. After what happened with your mother you still joined the Sentinels. So what? You got where you are at your age by playing it safe, by doing only what others asked? You want to make captain yourself someday? Trust me, it’s the bold actions those politicians see.”

The shift in the conversation had become a wee bit too uncomfortable for David, but what could he say? He doubted Waller would actually disobey orders, but his words certainly trod close to that line. “Aye, Captain.”

Waller sighed. “Get me a line to the Tabernacle, McGregor. Dismissed.”

David rose and returned to the bridge, passing the order to connect the Mazzaroth to Communications. The twenty-three Imperators of the Sanhedrin would inevitably bicker over where to send the Logos, ignoring any input Waller gave. They each had their own galaxy to worry about, and rarely took the big picture into account. Maybe that was why the Shekhinah was in charge. Still, part of him hoped they’d listen and send the ship to the front.

Or to the Pegasus Dwarf. Out there, beyond the Empire, Rachel was liable to get herself killed. If they sent the ship there, he could look in on her and her insane plans. And maybe, just maybe, he could save more than her life. Maybe he could salvage what they should have had.

He headed down to his quarters and sat on his bunk. His uniform—really a nanomesh armor suit—wasn’t uncomfortable, but best be out of it. He drew his thumb along the line of the chest piece and it separated, the nanobots unbinding so he could remove the jacket, then did the same with the pants, careful to remove his pulse pistol from the thigh holster first.

It came down to that uniform, didn’t it? It had meant so much to him he’d lost Rachel. Sure, there’d been others before and since, but she was something special. Infuriatingly special, sometimes. She always knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling, and not just from being an empath.

Once, she’d rented rafts for him on his birthday, to ride the canals across New Rome. Out there, on the canal, alone with her, that had been peace. And he’d buggered it all up.

Or she had.

But the truth was, he still couldn’t see why. Most Sentinels had families back home. Waller had five children, didn’t he? If Rachel would have waited for him … but that wasn’t who she was.

Maybe he loved her for that, too.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

September 26th, 3096 EY

Eden was destroyed, or so the Codex tells us. The Adversary came and wiped out all of our off-world colonies, then moved in on our homeworld itself. They, or It, killed three quarters of all humans in the universe, and then the Angels came. They fought the Adversary and drove it off, then ignited the Exodus, taking mankind from the smoldering wasteland that had been Eden.

Waller had gotten his wish, or else he’d made an impression on one of the Imperators, because the Logos had been sent to the outer galaxies. David wasn’t the only one who could pilot the Conduit—Waller could do it himself if he wanted—but he was the best, which meant by the end of the day he was exhausted.

Flying between galaxies was exhilarating, but a long process, and draining. Every second required precise concentration. The Conduit branched endlessly, and though there were fewer branches between galaxies, the price for a wrong turn was even steeper. A single mistake could throw them all so far off course they’d be lucky to ever find themselves again.

David caught himself working his way down to the Med Bay, as much to work out the mental tension as anything. He couldn’t sleep so soon after flying. His psionics were out of whack, and his adrenaline pumping, his nerves shot. A day like this meant either winding down first, or lying in his bunk awake.

Leah was there, bent over her data pad. So preoccupied in her research her hair had fallen to one side, revealing her gills, which she usually tried to hide.

“What’s a nice lass like you doing here at this hour?”

She spun on her chair, immediately patting her hair back in place. “David. Hi. I, uh … I was just studying those samples we picked up back in the Milky Way. You want to hear about it?”

“Alien bacteria … Not really my forte, lass.”

Her face fell a bit, and she just nodded. “Right, of course. Did you need something?”

“Just to relax a bit.”

“Oh. Well then … Uh, sit down. You want to sit?” She waved at another chair and flashed a warm smile.

David took it and kicked his feet up on her table, earning a slight downturn of her mouth. He laughed, but it felt forced.

“Something’s on your mind, David. I can always tell.”

“I told you about Rachel …”

She sighed. “Right. Your ex.”

“She’s in a spot of trouble, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“You could try,” she mumbled.

“What?”

Leah shook her head, then folded her hands behind her back. “As your doctor, I’d advise you to let the past go. Stress causes most of the medical problems we see in Sentinels, and it’s one of the hardest things to treat well.”

“Aye? That simple, eh?” He smirked. “Might be, save she called me a bit back. She’s caught herself up in investigating the Sefer Raziel, if you can believe that.”

“Sorry?”

“A book, probably a myth, anyway. Point is, she’s just as likely to get herself killed as find it.”

Leah leaned forward. “I’d say the point is how you feel about it.”

“I dunno, really. She’s still doing all the same things that drove us apart. She’s got to push every boundary.”

“Huh. I know a Calnehian commander kind of like that.”

Oh, wonderful. Now she was comparing him to Rachel. “It’s not funny, all right?” And he was nothing like that. He worked hard to prove himself, to redeem his family name. Not to unravel the fabric of society. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, right?”

She nodded. “Always.” Something tingled at the edge of his psionic senses, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.

“So tell me what to do.”

Someone coughed. David spun to see the captain, and rose quickly with a salute. “Sir.”

The captain waved them to their ease. “Just a headache.”

“Yes, sir,” Leah said. “Where?” The captain indicated his temples, and Leah pressed a pain tab to the spot.

It dissolved instantly, and a look of relief washed over Waller’s face. “Thank you, Suzuki. Carry on.” The captain nodded at David, then left.

David fell back in his chair. Just what he needed. The captain overhearing his romantic woes.

Leah flashed him an awkward smile that pretty much summed up how he felt. “Look, David. If it’s over, it’s over. Sometimes things just don’t work out no matter how much we want them to. Everything seems like it’s going great, seems like it’s time for marriage, the Third Commandment maybe, and then … But sometimes it just isn’t what we thought and the other person is …” She sighed and shook her head. A throbbing built in his psionic senses, a sudden awareness of some buried pain. Odd, now he thought about it, Leah rarely spoke of her past.

And he didn’t usually read people like that. Situations, immediate threats, sometimes warnings about the future. And of course the Conduit. But even Rachel was a better empath than he was. David rubbed his temples. Maybe that was what gave the captain these headaches. Uncontrolled, unexpected bursts of emotions from members of the crew.

Leah talked like someone speaking from experience, but he didn’t want to press. If she wanted to tell him about it, she would. They’d known each other a long time. She was in his class at the Sentinel Academy, even though she was several years older. She’d started later than most, but he’d never asked about her sudden career change.

“You still love her?” Leah asked after a moment.

“Aye, I think maybe I do. Seeing her again, all those old feelings came back and I just … No matter what, even if it is over, I don’t want to see her get hurt. But I also don’t approve of all she’s doing.”

Leah pursed her lips. “David, you define yourself through discipline, order, duty. She sounds like the opposite. I have to be honest, it doesn’t sound like something that would ever work. One of you would have to bend, maybe break. Opposites may attract, but matter and anti-matter still annihilate each other.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe all he could do for Rachel was help where he could and stay out of her way. She was the whirlwind, sweeping over all she touched, always changing it, never staying, never pausing. Never yielding.

Whatever drove her was something maybe he couldn’t understand. Maybe no one could, or maybe he wasn’t the one for her. The thought sent his pulse pounding through his head again. It rang of bitter truth, despite the beautiful memories they’d shared together. But if they weren’t meant for one another, why couldn’t he stop thinking of her?

Leah sighed. “So, the Asheran border?”

“Aye.”

“Guess I may need Med Bay for something more than treating headaches and heartaches soon.”

“Aye.”

Whatever insane mission Rachel had given herself, he had his own. He had an Empire to uphold. The heretics in Asherah pushed out their borders, maybe even violated the Commandments. And they’d murdered David’s mum. Justice, long-delayed, would find them.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

September 28th, 3096 EY

The quiet, the moments between trying to decode the Sefer, they give me too much time to think. If the Adversary attacked mankind thirty-one centuries ago, why have we never seen it since?

The Logos shot out of the Conduit Gate to the Akeldama System. David’s senses blurred from the sudden psionic deadening. The disputed system was clearly within Mizraim domain, but Asherah had questioned that claim for years—probably because of the ore-rich asteroid field nearby.

An Asheran Leviathan passed among that asteroid field, escorting a mining ship.

Waller growled, really growled. He stood beside David’s chair, watching the display screen. David set his jaw, barely surprised by the captain’s wrath, almost sharing it.

He shook himself. “Should we contact them?”

“That’s a Leviathan, a heavy battleship. You don’t send a battleship to protect a mining vessel unless you’ve come for a fight.”

“We’re a battleship, too.” David activated the holo display field, showing the system in three dimensions around the pilot’s chair. The Leviathan hadn’t made a move, still remained partially concealed behind the asteroid field.

“So we are,” the captain said. “Dana, target the Asherans.”

Phoebe’s pale eyes glanced back at David. “Both of them, sir?”

“It’s time we made it clear this system belongs to the Empire.”

David took a deep breath, then steered the ship among the asteroids, dodging the rocks. The Singularity Drive created kinetic shielding that would distribute the energy of impacts, but pelting the ship with asteroids would still damage it.

“Should I fire a warning shot, sir?” Phoebe asked.

“Yes, Dana,” Waller said. “Warn them with all ten pulse cannons, and missile tubes one through a hundred and twenty.”

“Sir. They’ll get the message.”

The Leviathan must have detected her target lock, because it leapt into sudden motion. The Logos hummed with energy as the pulse cannons and missiles fired. Phoebe must have focused fire on the Leviathan, since only a handful of missiles targeted the miner.

“Warning delivered, Captain,” Phoebe said.

David cruised through the asteroids, trying to give her clear shots. Missiles launched from the Leviathan, intercepting the Logos’s warheads. Defensive laser batteries carved out others, but the holo registered at least ten impacts.

David jerked the ship, trying to keep asteroids between them and enemy missiles. “They’re returning fire!”

Phoebe activated the Logos’s own defense batteries, annihilating most of the barrage. One slipped through. The impact blasted along the starboard side but sent a shudder through the entire ship. The kinetic shielding barely kept the matter-antimatter explosion from ripping a hole in the hull.

“Launch drones!” Waller said.

David tapped his console, sending out forty remote fighters. From the pilot’s chair he could reasonably control ten, twenty in a pinch. He took ten and assigned the others to fighter ensigns.

Plasma toroids rocked over the Logos. There was no shooting those down, and evading meant keeping asteroids between the two ships. The toroids ravaged the kinetic shielding, overwhelming it with thermal energy. If a missile hit them at the same time…

David steered the Logos behind an asteroid the size of a small moon.

“Prep the ion cannons,” Waller said. “Use the MAGs to clear a path.”

“We have to let the shields stabilize!” David said.

“Then get those drones targeting that miner. I do not want them escaping. It’s time to make a statement.”

A statement had been made already, David expected. They had opened fire on a battleship. And the surge of terrible adrenaline was like a tonic. These people had destroyed the Balthazar, killed his mum. Retribution, served cold, was inevitable.

David reached into the hologram, his fingers contacting the image of the drones. With a shift of his wrist, or a jerk of his arm, he sent five of them targeting the miner. It would be enough to distract the Leviathan while the rest of the drones intercepted missiles.

“Ion cannons charged,” Phoebe said. “But there’s an energy buildup on the—”

A particle beam shot from the Leviathan at the asteroid David hid behind. The ion stream traveled at close to the speed of light. There was no evading, and no matching that destructive power. The beam struck the asteroid, releasing an instant torrent of explosions. As the thermal energy built, the asteroid sundered, even before David could get out from behind it. The sudden explosion hurled massive chunks of rock onto the Logos, pelting the hull.

The impacts overwhelmed the kinetic shields. Hull breaches flared all over David’s display. Angels above, anyone in those sections was already dead. The readings indicated dozens of power ruptures. God only knew how many would be injured.

“Return fire!” Waller shouted.

Two ion cannons erupted, sending their own barrage of particles at relativistic speeds into the Leviathan. Unfortunately, the weapons drew enormous energy. The Singularity Drive could generate near limitless power, but only so much at one time. What was left of the kinetic shielding flickered out.

“Captain!” David flew as erratically as he could, trying to keep behind cover again.

An ion stream punched through the Leviathan’s shielding and ruptured the hull. A cascade of explosions rushed over the craft from bow to stern.

“Bring us in there, MAG cannons ready,” Waller said. “All MAGs fire.”

The Leviathan tried to head for the Conduit Gate on the system’s edge. The miner had already reached it and was slipping out of the system. The Leviathan launched more missiles while recalling its fighters. Its missiles were barely targeted, a barrage of distractions that would, nevertheless, cripple the Logos if even a few of those hundred struck.

“Drones, full defense,” David ordered. He moved his own drones into position, shooting down missiles all around. Phoebe’s laser batteries cut down a few others. One slipped past the ensigns’ drones. The ship shook. Another hull breach registered on David’s display. More good men, probably dead.

Eighty MAG cannons sent an endless stream of slugs at the Leviathan. At first, kinetic shields sent the rounds skittering off, then they started to punch through, creating hundreds of minor hull ruptures. A hundred-meter-long section of the Leviathan’s hull ripped away from decompression, flinging men and debris into space.

“Get a missile in there, Dana,” Waller said.

Phoebe fired from what David guessed were the last loaded missile tubes. The Leviathan’s laser batteries shot down ten, maybe twenty. But one missile rammed right into that hull breach. An antimatter explosion blew out both sides of the Leviathan, and the ship’s power went dead.

Asteroids collided with the ship, punching more holes in the hull.

“Pulse cannons.”

Phoebe followed Waller’s orders. The pulse cannons unleashed a barrage that engulfed the Leviathan in explosive energy. A second later, the entire ship detonated.

They had just destroyed a Leviathan. Angels above, they’d just destroyed a Leviathan. The Asherans claimed their battleships were invincible, and the Logos had taken one out.

But at what cost? Based on the holo display, David would guess the Logos would be vulnerable for days. And the lost crew? How many were dead? A hundred? More?

David piloted the Logos out of the asteroid field. It would take days, maybe weeks to repair the damage done in this battle. As far as he knew, it was the first full scale battle between a Leviathan and a Tribulation class Sentinel warship since …

His mum.

For most of his life he’d hated the Asherans because of her, because of what they’d done to the Balthazar. He’d spent his life without a mother, and his career in the shadow of a captain considered a failure. And now he’d blown the void out of a Leviathan.

“Did we just start a war?” David asked.

Waller turned away and left the bridge. But David thought he’d caught a glimpse of the man’s emotions, his own psionic potential maybe reaching out. A silent promise with no record. The promise that, if they hadn’t yet, they would.

David’s throat was dry.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

October 2nd, 3096 EY

Why did the Angels never teach us their language? Why retain their unfathomable symbology? They gave us technology, or pieces of it, but never quite revealed all their secrets. They told us just enough to allow us to build intergalactic ships harnessing singularities, and yet, everyone knows they held back. Redeemers claimed they kept back what mankind was not meant to know. I’d expect they merely never wanted us to become a threat to them. And they enforced their will with their dreaded secret police, the Gogmagog. Of all the Races of Man, only the Gog and the Magog are universally hated and feared. It was the Gogmagog that sought out those who opposed the Angels and exiled them to worlds like Gehenna.

Repairs had been underway for four days. They didn’t dare take the Logos back into the Conduit until such activities were complete. No matter how good a pilot he was, David wouldn’t take a chance in there unless he had no choice. If something went wrong, if the course was lost inside the Conduit, God knew where they’d end up. Some said the Conduit folded in on itself infinitely, that once lost you could fly its pathways for all eternity and never find your way out.

David’s ear comm flared. “McGregor, I’ll see you in my quarters.”

He hadn’t seen much of the captain in the last few days. Why would Waller summon him like this? Though the captain’s quarters were just down the hall from his own, he’d never even seen the inside of them. David strode through the passageway and buzzed Waller’s door.

It slid open after a moment, and he stepped inside and saluted. The captain had the lights low. Dozens of photographs decorated the walls. An older woman with long hair stood among young children. Further down the wall, those children grew older and older, until finally, they stood with children of their own. The captain’s grandchildren.

Waller sat at a table and motioned for David to join him. The Codex was there, a fine leather-bound copy, opened to a page illuminated in the old style.

When David had sat, Waller folded his arms. “Commander McGregor.”

“Captain?”

“How soon until we’re ready to head out?”

David scratched his head. “We could probably take the Logos back in tomorrow, if we had to. Better if we wait an extra day, though. The Asheran ion cannon is a bit more powerful than our own.”

Their plasma cannons were clearly meant to emulate Sentinel pulse weaponry, but they did a mediocre job of it at best. Still, there were rumors of handheld ion rifles. If that were true, the Asheran Confederacy clearly had a leg up in some areas of weapon design.

Waller shook his head. “They’ve broken the Covenant.”

Maybe. Hard to be sure without prisoners to examine. “Is there evidence I haven’t seen?”

The captain scoffed. “McGregor, please. Everyone knows cybernetics are rampant in the Confederacy.” Everyone claimed that, and, honestly, David believed it. But believing and proving were different things.

“The Sentinels need every edge to face such a foe, McGregor. They’re a threat to the very fabric of our society. A threat to the entire human race, even. They must be brought to heel.”

David nodded. He had no love for the Asherans, but he didn’t need to tell the captain that.

“I’d hate to think you’ve been holding out on me.”

What the bloody void? “Sir?”

“It’s probably best if you tell me all you know about the Sefer Raziel, McGregor.”

David’s mouth hung open. How did the captain know about that? He felt a bit lightheaded. The Med Bay?

“That’s an order, Commander.”

David shut his mouth. No choice now. He’d never disobey his captain. Order, duty, loyalty. These things were who he was. He was a Sentinel. He was a soldier. “Sir. The Sefer Raziel is a possibly mythical book written by the Angel Raziel some time prior to the Vanishing. It’s said to contain secrets of the Angels, including, possibly, the hidden location of the Angel’s Ark.”

Waller leaned forward, locking David with his blue eyes. “And where is it, Commander?”

Rachel. If he told, Rachel’s situation could become even more complicated. If facing down the Redeemers weren’t enough, now she’d likely have the Sentinels after her. And how could he betray the woman he loved like that? How could he place her in danger?

Acid burned in his stomach. His psionics flared, and for a brief moment, he saw her face, alone and afraid.

He had no choice.

She was running down a polluted street, running from someone trying to hurt her.

But there was no choice. None. He was a Sentinel. He had a duty. And he could not break his oath. He could not, God save his soul. “Possibly on the world Gehenna, in the Pegasus Dwarf Galaxy. I have reason to believe the Lazarus Group is searching for it there.”

“And your friend.”

“Aye, sir.”

“And you were going to tell me this?” The captain’s words seemed almost a growl.

“I didn’t believe it relevant. Sir.”

Waller leaned back at last, scrubbing his beard. “Not relevant?” He slammed his hand on the table, the sudden motion making David jerk. “If the Sefer, or God forbid the Ark, falls into the hands of another government, do you have any idea what that will mean, McGregor? Whoever controls it would be able to unravel the mysteries of creation. With that kind of power we could crush Asherah! The Ark could change the course of human history, and if someone else finds it first, it won’t be in our favor.”

“Aye sir. If you believe it exists at all.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance! Set course for Gehenna first thing tomorrow, as soon as we’re able.”

David shook his head slowly. “Captain, we’ve no jurisdiction there.” And Rachel … If she was already in trouble, the last thing she needed was Waller after her prize. A sudden flutter in his stomach left him woozy, and a sense of danger almost toppled him from his chair. She was in danger, or she would be. He could feel it. His vision had been real. His heart told him it was. Normally, he wouldn’t sense these things unless in the Conduit. “Gehenna is an independent world. We can’t just—”

“I don’t want to hear shit about jurisdiction, Commander. We’re talking about the fate of the universe.”

David tried to keep a straight face at the hyperbole. “Captain, we’d be starting something we might not be able to contain. We should at least contact the Tabernacle—”

“I already have. You have your orders, Commander. Bring me the Sefer.”

Angels above, the Sanhedrin had sanctioned this. His own government had ordered them in. Maybe he could do nothing for Rachel. But he’d have to try.

Waller had heard him mention it all to Leah. This was his fault. Waller wouldn’t have left the Asherans until he’d taken them out, that much was clear. But with the Leviathan gone … How long ago had he contacted the Tabernacle? Had it taken them this long to sanction the mission?

David stood and saluted.

“Dismissed.”

At that, he spun on his heel and trod out into the hall. It took a conscious effort to keep walking, head high. A wave of psychic disruption tugged at his mind, a siren of impending doom. They were set on a course that would alter everything, and for the life of him, he couldn’t see where it would end. But without a doubt, the feelings would strengthen in the Conduit. Maybe he’d be able to sense his way free from there.

Until then, he had no choice. His paused at the door to his quarters, not waving it open. David scratched his head, then turned and went down to the Med Bay. Leah was there, examining a few people injured in the battle with the Leviathan. Twenty-two dead crewmen. Most of the injured had been long since healed, but a few of the worst cases Leah wanted to examine again.

So absorbed in her work, she seemed not to notice him. He waited quietly, his mind swirling with possibilities, all leading into darkness. Just after the battle, this place had been filled with burned, bleeding victims of their aggression. Never for a moment did he allow himself to doubt the Asherans deserved the results of their incursion, and every crewmen on this ship had taken the Sentinel’s oath, knowing what it meant. But …

“David?” Leah asked.

He hadn’t even noticed the rest of the crew leaving. “My psionics are flaring.”

She led him to an exam table and sat him down. “What do you mean flaring? What do you feel?”

“I’m sensing more than I should at my level. Like I did when I—”

“David, you’re thirty-two. That’s a little old for another ascension. You’ve reached your limit.”

He scratched his head. A migraine was building behind his eyes. A sudden warmth radiated off Leah, a single heartbeat of caring, deeper than he realized their friendship stretched. His vision blurred and the pain increased.

He took her hand, though she tried to slip it away, as if still afraid of the webs between her fingers. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course, Commander.”

Commander? He withdrew his hand, unable to sense anything more from her. It was like an ascension, but she was right, he had to have reached his full psionic potential already. His last ascension had been, God, six years ago, maybe seven?

It was just the stress.

“When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” she asked.

David shook his head. He couldn’t even remember. Not since Rachel had called. She was going to get herself killed, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was a Commander in the Sentinels, a rank four psychic, and a Rephaite class pilot. And he was powerless.

“I’m going to give you something to help you sleep, David.” She handed him a tab. “Press this to your neck just before you lie down. And be sure to drink lots of water.”

“Aye, Doc.”

“And David … You know you can come to me with anything, right?”

“Aye lass, I know it.”

He rose and returned to his quarters. Using chemical sleep aids wasn’t the best idea. Pilots sometimes had to take them, he knew, especially if they spent too much time in the Conduit. It could inflame psionic senses, but it’d never happened to him before. He was born to fly.

How long would it take to reach Gehenna? Ten days, at the most. And then he’d have to get that damn Sefer. He’d have to take it, and take away Rachel’s dream. And she’d never forgive him for that, would she?

He pressed the tab to his neck and fell back on his bunk. His consciousness fled quickly, but in the space between waking and dreaming, his mind’s eye filled with a vision of a blasted red world. Rachel held a book …

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Trying to decode this book is maddening. For two thousand five hundred years, Angels ruled us, and yet, I cannot even find any pictures of them. Why? There are drawings of winged, beautiful people, but no true photographs, no recordings. When I questioned this at NRU, I was told mankind was not meant to capture recordings of such glory. Instead, we saw the horrors of their creations, the Gog and the Magog, men and women as much animal as human.

Cryptic symbols swam before Rachel’s eyes. This had to be the Sefer Raziel, but the code was almost incomprehensibly dense. Either the Angel had intended for no human to decode the Sefer—which threw into question why he had left it at all—or else it was meant to take humanity a lengthy collective effort to unravel.

Rachel didn’t have time to allow for either possibility.

Knight’s small apartment had grown crowded quickly. He stayed out of her way, mostly, training on the mat in the corner, or disappearing outside for long stretches. But sleeping was an issue. There was only one couch, and as Knight had put it, it belonged to him. The moment of warmth they’d shared had evaporated like mist in the morning sun, and he’d become even more guarded than before. The wall was back around him, and twice as strong.

Angels above, why had she slept with him? Had she done something wrong, to drive him into darkness again? When she sensed anything at all from him, it was a mess of confusion and fear. And the truth was, she wasn’t sure what she’d wanted. She certainly didn’t believe in the Third Commandment—sex could be just sex. She’d needed the release, the intimacy. DNA was written like that. That was all.

Rachel found herself tossing and turning on a hard floor of questionable cleanliness, and waking with neck and back aches.

She sat on the couch at the moment—he let her use it during the day, thank God—rubbing her neck and looking at the same data for the thousandth time. She was an Angelologist, not a cryptologist.

She switched on the Mazzaroth and browsed her news feeds. It was still awash with reports of a skirmish between a Sentinel ship and the Asheran Empire. The doomsayers claimed war was inevitable, but Rachel had heard that before. Asherah and Mizraim had been on the edge of another war for decades, but neither side was likely to give up forty years of relative peace over a single engagement.

Was David involved? Was he safe? The reports said an Asheran battleship was destroyed and claimed a mining vessel took heavy damage. No mention of exactly which ships, or the fate of the Sentinel battleship involved.

“Mazzaroth off.”

She rubbed her eyes and turned back to the tablet before her. There were at least a thousand distinct symbols, which meant if this was any kind of alphabet, it was impossibly complex. There had to be some kind of reason behind the assignment of the symbols. They had to mean something.

The door opened, and Knight slipped back in, carrying dinner again. He’d gone to get more Asheran hot noodles from that place in Babel Bazaar. Really, Rachel preferred the experience of going out and trying new restaurants, but they’d agreed it was safer if she stayed out of sight.

He set her plate on the table and glanced at the holo coming off the tablet. For a moment he looked at the seat right beside her, and a slight but definite wave of pain radiated off him, making her queasy. He sat on the opposite side of the sofa.

What the void did he want from her? “See anything?” she asked.

He grunted, then looked down at the table, avoiding her gaze. “You owe me fifteen kesitahs for dinner.”

Rachel groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Just put it on my tab, Knight.”

He tore into his own plate of noodles. With a sigh, Rachel did the same. This was getting her nowhere. And neither was she making any progress on that book. “Knight,” she said between bites. “I think we might have been too hasty in withdrawing from the Lazarus compound.”

“Ten more seconds and we’d have been found by that Gibborim. I’m thinking that didn’t make us hasty.”

She slurped another noodle, almost unable to believe what she was about to say. “They’d been working on cracking this code for a while. A lot of people, maybe a team of cryptologists, using sophisticated equipment.”

“Obviously.”

Okay then. “If I had their research, it would make this go a lot faster.”

Knight looked up from his noodles and stared at her. “Yeah. You should have thought of that before we escaped, huh?”

“Yeah … I really think I need that research, Knight.”

He sat back and folded his arms over his black coat. “Shame about that.”

Damn, he wasn’t going to make this easy. But she was the one paying him. Why should she feel bad about ordering him to work for it? She’d tried to bring them closer. At least she’d keep telling herself that was the reason … and the man made her sleep on the floor, for God’s sake. “Let me say this again. I need to go back and get their research, Knight.”

“I figured if I just let you talk long enough, something stupid would come out of your mouth. What makes you think there’s anything left to find? The government was there, and if they didn’t want the research, they were after you. If they wanted the research, they have it. Either way, they sent a Gibborim, and you want to go back? There are less painful ways to kill yourself.”

She shook her head, trying to tune out the waves of irritation coming off him, but unable to cut out the anger, the hurt that lay beneath them. “Knight, otherwise this could take weeks or months to decode.” Or years.

He glared. “We don’t have that much time! It’s time we both got off this God-forsaken rock. If you can’t decode it, fine. Leave, bring it, whatever. Just get us out of here.”

“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “You think I paid you to come this far and give up? You think I went through the danger, the hell on this planet—”

“You have no idea what hell this planet has yet to show you.”

She stood, her heart racing, and glared down at him. He worked for her. So why was it so damn hard to just give him an order? “Knight, I need that research. You want your money? I need this job finished.”

For a moment, he watched her, eyes seeming to look deeper than she felt comfortable with. “Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll go. You stay here. If there’s anything left in that lab, I’ll find it.”

“I should come with you—”

“I’m better alone. You’d slow me down, and they’re already looking for you. Everyone is looking for you. You’re not to leave this apartment while I’m gone.”

She jerked back. Better alone? So now he didn’t even want her around? And who did he think he was, giving her orders? And yet, she found herself unable to argue. His emotions were cold, dark, and set. If he didn’t want her anymore, if they weren’t going to be friends, even, then so be it. Who was he to her anyway?

“Look, I’ll raise your pay another ten thousand—”

“More than that.”

God, she had to hope Galizur was going to cover this. “Twelve thousand, then.” Her own resources were running out, so if Quasar Industries didn’t pay she was out in the void.

Knight picked up his plate, then set it back down with a sigh and stormed out.

Rachel watched the door a long time after it closed. She’d lost her appetite, too.

CHAPTER TWENTY

October 3rd, 3096 EY

Oddly, I find myself missing Knight. It does, however, give me more time to think of him. There are eleven distinct subspecies of humanity, if one counts Psychs like myself—which is perhaps inappropriate given that Psychs now appear among all the Races. Regardless, not one Race is supposed to have Knight’s level of reflexes. At least no Race supposed to be real…

The iridescent walls of the Conduit soared past the Logos. David was dimly aware of the barrage of colors as his mind reached out, combing the network of passages, seeking the pathways. Intergalactic space was so vast, but there were fewer branches in the Conduit out here.

Part of his mind remained locked on the unfolding paths before him, but part wandered, even when he tried to focus. Just as the Conduit amplified his psionic abilities, those abilities amplified his awareness of his own memories.

The Testament Flight School, in New Rome. Rachel was there, in a pink jacket with white pants. The zippers on her jacket sparkled like diamonds. He’d forgotten that.

“So I’m going to get a private lesson now, Mac?” she said, flashing him a smile. “What are you going to teach me? Any special maneuvers in mind?”

David had lots of maneuvers he’d like to go over with Rachel, but this morning really was supposed to be a flying lesson. “Slingshot around the moon and back. You ready to take the controls the whole way, lass?”

Rachel puffed out her lower lip. “Mac, I’m always ready to be in control.” She laughed and took off running toward the shuttle. As a senior trainee—not to mention a Sentinel—the school let him check out shuttles without an instructor. Once, Rachel had seen him as a rival. Now, though, she seemed to enjoy these private lessons as much as he did.

One day, he’d take her to the Conduit. That was the real test of a Psych pilot. But you couldn’t fly a shuttle in the Conduit. It wouldn’t even reach the Gate on the edge of the system, at least not in a timely manner.

David followed her, watching her hair stream behind her as she ran, laughing.

The shuttle was twelve meters long, a sleek, triangular wedge with a double seat cockpit. He pressed the key to pop the latch, and Rachel climbed in ahead of him.

The shuttle could hold eight passengers in the back, but it was empty today. Just him and her. He climbed in beside her. “Strap in.”

Belts secured them across the chest, then Rachel tapped the panel to close the cockpit. “Nervous?” she said.

David snorted. “I believe in you, lass. Besides, I’m here to take over if you bugger it up too badly.”

“Wow. Thanks for that, big guy.” She powered on the engines, grabbed the throttle, and started them down the runway.

“Start easy. Just get us in the air.”

“Not my first time, Mac.”

He raised his hands in surrender. Aye, she knew what she was doing. He snuck a glance at her thighs, shapely in her skin-tight flight pants.

“I felt that,” she said.

Damn empaths. But two could play at that game. David focused his psionic senses, projecting waves of sensual energy at her.

Rachel gasped, jerked back on the throttle, and hurtled them airborne. Her breath came in sudden gulps, and she looked over at him, pupils dilated. “Maybe not a good idea while I’m flying.”

“Aye, lass. Keep your mind on the task at hand.”

“Keep your mind to yourself, then.”

“Just be glad I’m not a telepath. I’d show you some things you’d not soon forget.”

Rachel leveled out the shuttle, building up speed. “Preparing to enter orbit,” she said.

“Aye, get your angle right.”

She adjusted their pitch a bit, then revved up the power. They shot through the atmosphere. A sparkling canopy of stars materialized before his eyes, offering him the same peace and wonder and awe they always did. Here was where mankind belonged. Planets had their own beauty, of course, but out here, in the vast stretch of the cosmos, it was like you could see the mind of God.

David swallowed and glanced at Rachel. She’d gotten caught up in his emotion, and was barely controlling the shuttle at all. “Rach.”

She shook herself and steadied their orbit around New Rome. Dozens of other shuttles were up here, not to mention hundreds of satellites, so she had to plot their course carefully. No one liked it if you flew too close.

David scratched his head and resisted the urge to offer advice or orders. This was her show. On the far side of the planet she broke away, heading for the larger of New Rome’s two moons.

She set a slow, steady pace, so he settled in. It would take several minutes to reach the moon at this rate. “Doing great, lass,” he said.

“There’s something so romantic about the aloneness up here, isn’t there?” she said. “I mean, you look out the window and there’s a billion stars and nebulae and all, but we’re thousands of kilometers from any other person. Just the mystery of the cosmos spreading out before us.”

He vaguely wondered if those were her feelings originally, or if she’d picked up his and made them her own. It didn’t matter. “Aye.” Because out here, there was something special. Out here, where the Angels had come from. Out here, where you could touch something so much bigger than mankind. It was … cosmic. There was no other word for it.

“Time to check the hold,” she said, her voice low and breathy. “I’ve got a maneuver to teach you now.”

David flipped on the autopilot.

He shook himself, jerking out of the memory and focusing back on the Conduit. He knew what came next, and indulging in it while flying, however pleasant the memory, was not a good idea. Captain Waller would not be pleased if they wound up in the wrong galaxy.

For hours, he stayed on the bridge, until at last the ship jumped through another Gate. It was still a ways to Gehenna, but he had to rest. He’d fry his psionics if he kept this up. There was only so much time in the Conduit a pilot could take. After almost a full day’s flight, the whole crew might be fatigued. The non-psychics much less, of course, but they’d feel it.

He left the bridge to Lieutenant Dana and retired to his quarters. Those had been his best days, back with Rachel. Aye, he’d never give up his uniform—that was who he was. He was one of the youngest commanders in the Sentinels, and he hoped to make captain by the time he was forty. His career was more than just a career. It was a definition of purpose.

But it might have cost him Rachel. He’d thought he’d come to grips with that long ago, but now they were flying to Gehenna. He was going to see her again, and most likely not on friendly terms. Would she ever forgive him for trying to take the Sefer Raziel away from her? If it existed, Waller would find it. David had no doubt.

He sat at his table and gingerly opened the Codex. There were always answers, if you knew where to look. He turned beyond the Covenant, to the later chapters on the purpose of humanity. The Angels claimed mankind was God’s great experiment. A test. Everything was a test. And that had always been a comfort before.

“Following the Age of Repopulation the Shekhinah was established to assist in governing the rapidly growing numbers of humanity…”

He couldn’t focus. This was supposed to be relaxing. Instead, his head throbbed. There was no sleeping, not so soon after dropping out of the Conduit.

Rachel.

He’d done his duty in telling Waller. He was a Sentinel, like his mum before him. He was a Commander, an officer. He had to follow his duty.

Rachel.

His heart raced. Focus on the words.

“The Shekhinah carried the voice of the Angels to the people, tapped directly into the Conduit…”

Damn it.

Rachel might die, and he was helping her toward it!

He flung the Codex aside and it collided with the wall. God, she’d never forgive him! All of this meant nothing—he was going to destroy her dreams.

A tremble ran through him, and he turned, realizing what he’d done.

The Codex, the words of the Angels, lay on the floor, its pages bent and splayed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Most of the subspecies of mankind, the Races of Man as some call them, were designed to adapt to extreme environments. Amphies could live underwater, making them ideal for deep-sea mining. Cold-worlders were adapted to frozen wastes. The Anakim could tolerate planets with extreme gravity. And Smoggers like David could survive almost any atmosphere, as could Smolders. And Knight … Why would the Angels adapt someone to be a killing machine? It sounds more like something I’d expect from Asherah.

Once, every answer had come from the Codex. Now David couldn’t bring himself to pick it up, instead poring through file after file on the Mazzaroth. Once you started digging, the Sentinels actually had a decent amount of intel on Gehenna. It wasn’t all organized, though. David had run a search on Gehenna and the Pegasus Dwarf Galaxy, and had turned up a lot of interesting little details.

Like that Jericho Corp had apparently been funneling money into the planet, through several back channels, for years. Millions of credits, in fact, upholding the government. Why would a megacorp care about maintaining the government of an independent world—a seemingly corrupt government at that?

The answer was obvious. It wouldn’t. David scratched his head, staring at the screen. The only explanation he could think of for all this was that Jericho was the power behind Gehenna. Which meant a member of the Conglomerate was running a former penal colony, a world with next to no natural resources and even less strategic value, and going to fair lengths to conceal its ownership.

Why would they want the place? Was it possible they knew about the Sefer Raziel?

There were too many unanswered questions, and David didn’t like that at all.

“Show me Jericho Corp,” he said to the Mazzaroth.

The screen displayed a corporate rundown. Like all megacorps, it had independent sovereignty, and really only answered to the rules of the collective Conglomerate. David scratched his head. In a hundred and fifty years the Conglomerate had become a force to rival Mizraim or Asherah. Since they represented so much of the economy of mankind, even a powerful nation was hesitant to stand before them.

And if a corp like Jericho got the Sefer, got the Ark, Angels only knew what they’d do. They might well have the power to overthrow all established order. The technological advantage would finally allow Jericho to win out over Quasar Industries, for certain. But it was unlikely the corp would stop there. He could almost see it in his mind, the governments of the universe slowly becoming subservient to corporate interests. Bowed down to the mercy of an economic juggernaut in possession of the finest technology ever created.

There were reams of data on the corp.

“Audio overview,” he said.

“Jericho Corp was formed in EY 2582,” the computer said. “They are primarily a developer of nanotechnology and other medical technologies. Jericho Corp has endured frequent competition from rival Quasar Industries for the advancement of technology, in particular over Jericho’s patented biomesh armor, considered by some a successor to Quasar’s nanomesh technology. In EY 3093 Jericho underwent massive restructuring following allegations against several board members involving violations of the First Commandment.”

“Pause,” David said. “Details of last item on the screen.”

Three years ago the Redeemers had accused the Jericho board of directors of experiments violating the First Commandment. Several members of the board had stepped down, and the Chairman, Othniel Keese, had vanished. And then all those allegations had dried up.

“What the bloody void does that mean?” David mumbled. The Redeemers were always accusing people of something, that was nothing new, and they’d never been overly fond of nanotech—claiming it skirted the ethical line, at least when used in humans. Had Jericho really been experimenting on something worse than that, or was it just a nanotech project that had gotten particularly under the Redeemers’ skin?

And with Keese gone—God knew where—everything got swept under the rug.

“But what does this have to do with Gehenna?”

As expected, the Mazzaroth offered no explanation.

There was more happening on this planet than they knew, which meant they were flying blind into a tricky situation. David left his quarters and headed down the hall. He buzzed the door to the captain’s quarters.

A moment later, they slid open. David found Waller reclining on a couch, listening to bombastic music. Something from his home world, maybe. Waller was from one of those small mining worlds no one had ever heard of, owned by Zebulun, if he remembered right. Anakim had their own unique sense of music.

“Pause playback,” the captain said, and sat up. “McGregor?”

David saluted. “I’ve been researching Gehenna.”

“Always wise.”

“I have strong reason to believe the planet may be owned, in secret, by Jericho Corp.”

Waller sighed, then rubbed his beard. “The game gets more interesting, then.”

“Sir, we don’t know what the situation is. We cannot afford to antagonize the Conglomerate.”

Waller waved it away. “No. We’re too close. If they own it in secret, then in public they cannot complain of our actions. We have perfect deniability for interfering in their affairs. How were we to know?”

“But we don’t know why they want the planet, or why they’re keeping it secret. I’ve traced a lot of the dealings back to one of their executives named—”

Waller held up a hand. “Deniability, McGregor. I don’t want to know. And neither do you.”

“Sir.”

“Drop the issue and focus on finding the Sefer.”

David stilled his jaw and saluted. “Sir. With all due respect, I must object.”

Waller just raised an eyebrow.

Rachel was there. Duty or not, how could he let her fall? He had to be there for her. “My friend, the one you identified earlier, is a citizen of Mizraim, of New Rome. She’s conducting a civilian expedition, possibly on corporate authority. We cannot just—”

“Your objection is noted, Commander.” Waller waved him away. “And overruled. Dismissed.”

He couldn’t argue with Waller’s reasoning, but it rang false, even duplicitous. To deliberately ignore the evidence—something on Gehenna was off. Jericho Corp wouldn’t care about a world like that unless they knew something he didn’t. And if they were after the Sefer too, if they knew about it, maybe it was Sentinel duty to keep it from them. But Rachel was caught between too many factions, and he seriously doubted she understood them all.

Leah stood outside his quarters, hands behind her back. When he approached, she bit her lip. “So…”

Shite. “Sorry, I completely forgot about dinner tonight.”

Her eyes nictitated, the inner third eyelid blinking. He’d never figured out whether that was a sign of irritation or just confusion. “You’re not eating anything?”

“I will. Did you?”

She shook her head. “I could bring something from the mess.”

“Aye, bring it to my quarters, then.”

Her eyes opened a bit wider, and she rocked back. Then she nodded and headed off. Probably shocked he wasn’t taking his meal with the crew. But some things shouldn’t be said in public, and he was too tired anyway.

He sat down at his table and paged through more data on Gehenna and Jericho until his door buzzed. “Open,” he said, without looking away from the screen.

“We’ve got rainbow fish from Rehobath,” Leah said.

David glanced at her. “Your homeworld?”

“Yeah, I ordered six cases from Manna Products on our last supply run. The ship’s cook cracked one open tonight. I might have requested it.” She carried two steaming boxes, each filled with spicy smelling fish and crisp vegetables. Leah set one in front of David, then sat down across from him. “Jericho?”

“Aye.” It was good she was here. Leah was the one person who always listened. Well, besides Rachel. “I think they’re the ones really running things on Gehenna. I suspect the government there are just puppets.”

“We have no jurisdiction over Conglomerate worlds.”

“Aye. But the captain says since they haven’t made their claim public, they can’t well object to our presence.”

She speared the fish with her fork and took a bite. “Fine line, but I guess he’s right.”

“That’s not the only issue, though. If they took the world, they did it for a purpose. I can’t believe they’re going to take it well, if we just show up and start waving guns around.”

“I thought you liked waving your gun around?”

“It’s not funny, lass.” Well, aye, it was a bit funny, but he wasn’t going to show her that. “Half the universe is after this mystical Sefer that might be down there, and a person I care a lot for is between them and it.”

She nodded, slowly. “David, you’re a Sentinel. Your friend seems like she borders on being khapiru. You’re going to have to make a choice.”

Aye, and there was no choice. He was a Sentinel. But at the very least, he needed to tell Rachel about Jericho Corp.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

There were always rumors about a twelfth Race. A legend that the Angels had tried to create true successors to their own nature … but such things were impossible. Angels never did anything that could become a threat to themselves.

The apartment was oddly still without Knight around. Of course, he had often been gone for long stretches anyway, but back then, Rachel had been so focused on the Sefer she’d barely noticed. Now, even the thought of diving back in without fresh facts gave her a headache. God, if she could only get outside, get some space, see people.

But Knight was right. This place was too dangerous, especially with the government looking for her. He’d left her enough food for a few days, and that would have to do. So she sat on the couch, combing through news feeds, and watching the occasional vid, something she hadn’t done much in the last few years. A bit of mindless action, hot sex, and inane plot might be what she needed to come at this thing with a fresh viewpoint. And with Knight away, there was no one to catch her watching the guilty pleasures.

So why did she keep thinking about him? She was such a fool to sleep with him anyway. The man was a child, a selfish—and dangerous—brat. And she’d thought to make a connection with him? She must have gone off rotation.

And what if she’d driven him away with her moment of weakness? Did he want more from her? More than she could give? If so, would he still be there for her?

They’d shared a single moment of passion, spurred by adrenaline and proximity. Pure reaction of the DNA. Nothing more. The truth was, she’d only ever really connected with one person. And even David had never really understood her. She’d thought he had … he should have. But she’d poured her heart out to him, tried to explain why finding these relics mattered so much. Why she had to open humanity’s eyes to the reality of their saviors.

At least she thought she did. Did knowing the truth in her heart make it her duty?

If she’d just kept her mouth shut, taught the classes she was supposed to teach, she might still be at NRU. Probably bouncing a baby or two on her knee by now. Her chest trembled and she wrapped her arms around herself. If she shut her eyes, she could almost see the infants.

Mac had said he could, in the Conduit. He could see their son—a son who could have been. Mac was a rank four Psych. He might have seen the real future, a future now vanished. She could have been a mother, could have given him the babies he wanted so badly from her. And had pride stopped her? Had her conviction that mankind was not bound to the Third Commandment kept her from something she should have wanted anyway?

God, had the Angels only ordered people to do what they wanted to do to begin with? Populate the universe. Go forth and have so many babies mankind can never be threatened with extinction again. But the threat was long gone. No one even knew how many people populated the holy universe these days. Void, there were eleven distinct subspecies of mankind.

For centuries humans had bred as often as they could. Some remained monogamous, some still married, but many made it their mission to simply have as many children as possible, often with different partners every time. But David had wanted marriage.

The screen flashed with an incoming call. Mac. As if he’d felt her thinking of him. A flight of fancy, of course. No Psych could feel that from across galaxies.

She forced the tremor in her chest to abate and sat up straight, trying to crack a smile. “Receive.”

The vid paused and David’s face filled the screen. “Rach. Something you need to know. I’ve been doing some digging, and it looks like the Gehennan government might really be a front for a megacorp.”

Rachel almost jumped to her feet. What in the holy universe? If that was true she really was in deeper shit than she knew. “Which one?”

“Jericho Corp. Seems like an executive named Caleb Gavet is running the project, but I can’t be sure. You really should clear out of there, lass.”

“I can’t, David. I’m too close.”

“Other people know what you’re doing now.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You told someone?” She’d trusted him and he’d betrayed that trust?

“I didn’t have a choice, Rach. There are things you don’t—”

“End call!” The screen flickered off, returning to her vid, still paused. God damn him. A minute ago she was thinking of having his babies! And he’d betrayed her?

As if things weren’t bad enough without him turning on her. And now Jericho was after her, maybe even Mizraim. Did Galizur know about Jericho? The man always knew more than he said, didn’t he? Had the bastard let her walk in here, knowing the danger?

Quasar Industries had been engaged in a game of one-upmanship with Jericho Corp for centuries. The two purveyors of the most advanced technology in the known universe. What would they do to gain access to the Ark? The answer was obvious. Anything. Galizur would probably feed her to the Adversary itself if he thought it would get him the Ark. And Jericho cared about her even less. If they got the Ark … Angels, they’d bring the whole universe to its knees, without anyone even seeing it happen.

“Son of a bitch.” And now she was the one who was going to pay for all this. Without Galizur’s backing, she was truly screwed. She now owed Knight more than she could cover, and he was the last person she wanted turning against her. Whatever had happened between them, maybe she could fix it. She was going to need Knight, and somewhere, deep down, maybe he needed her, too. There was something deeply broken within him, her empathy told her that much. And Rachel was no counselor, but she’d help him if she could.

The screen flashed with another incoming call. She shook her head. “Not this time, Mac.”

But when she saw the screen, the name read Jeremiah Jordan.

A long breath escaped her and she fell back onto the couch. This day just kept getting better and better. If there was one person in the universe she did not want to talk to, it was her brother. But he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of contacting her—they hadn’t spoken in years—unless it was damn important. She could ignore him, but then she’d always wonder …

No matter. She’d already hung up on one ass today, she could hang up on another if she had to.

“Mazzaroth, constrain camera on me.” No reason to let him see any more of her surroundings than she had to. Best if Jeremiah knew as little about where she was as possible. “Receive call.”

Her brother’s face filled the screen. His eyes looked a bit older, his spiked hair a bit longer, and he’d put on more muscle. Not that he’d been scrawny to begin with. He wore the Redeemer insignia, the man on bent knee, proudly on his breast.

His eyes judged her, as always.

“What do you want?” she said.

“It’s time for you to come home, sister. Father is worried about you.”

Sure he was. Angry, disappointed, ashamed. But worried. No. She didn’t think so. “Jeremiah, I don’t have time for this.”

“Yes. You’re very busy with your heresies and murders. Seven people are dead, Rach. Good men, servants of the Angels, dead because of you.”

A lot more than seven, unfortunately, but he didn’t need to know that. “No one forced them to come after me.”

“You forced them to, with your own actions.”

Right, round and round they went. “Who says my actions are wrong?”

He snorted. “The Codex, of course.”

She resisted the urge to rise and pace. “And who says the Codex is right about these things?”

“It’s the word of the Angels, given to them by God himself.”

She nodded. “And how do you know that?”

“Because they told us!”

“You don’t see anything worth questioning about that logic, Miah?”

Her brother shook his head. “No. It’s called faith. You’re family, Rach. Please, I’m giving you the chance to turn yourself in. I don’t want anything to happen to you, but I can’t protect you much longer. Come home.”

To be indoctrinated, to have all she was stripped away. “Thanks, but I don’t care to have my sins washed away at the price of the rest of my mind.”

“Surrender and I can make sure it doesn’t come to that. You’re my sister. You know how important Father is. We can help you. But you have to stop all this and come home.”

“No!” She was done playing by their rules. She’d made her own life, and she was going to live it. It was the only choice left to her. God, how she’d wanted him to believe in her back then. She’d begged him, pled with him to listen, but he heard nothing but the voice of their father. And some days, she almost heard it too—a gnawing doubt urging her to give in, to return. Because the universe was vast beyond measure and without family …

No. Jeremiah and her father deluded themselves, and she had to enlighten them. “If you send another Heart after me, you might just lose that one too. Cut your losses, bro.”

His skin flushed. “Do you even know who you’ve got protecting you? Oh, yeah, we know about him, sis. Ever ask yourself why he’s so prone to kill, so terribly adept at it? Maybe you should!” She could just imagine bits of spittle flying out of his mouth, the way they did when he raged.

But how did he know about Knight? Word must have gotten back to the Redeemers after that fight in the bar. “What the void are you even talking about?”

“Watch your mouth, little sister, or even I won’t be able to spare you.”

“Go to hell, Miah.”

“Rachel!” he shouted at her. “You want to know what you’ve gotten yourself into? This man, this Ezekiel Knight you seem to put so much trust in, was a government agent. He worked for that festering cesspool of khapiru that runs Gehenna. He was Gibborim, Rachel. A professional assassin whose sole responsibility was to kill anyone who got in the way of the oligarchy. You think you can trust him? Trust him more than your own kin? Rachel—”

“Mazzaroth off.”

A hollow lump formed in Rachel’s throat. Terrible pieces of the puzzle began to slip into place. Knight was the most efficient killer she’d ever seen. He had preternaturally fast reflexes and a penchant for destroying anyone who got in his way. Just like Jeremiah had said.

And God help her, she was living in his apartment.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I have made a mistake. All that matters now is getting the Sefer away from here. I cannot allow Jericho to get their hands on it, no matter the cost.

A floorboard creaked under her foot and Rachel almost jumped as she paced around the stifling apartment. Five minutes ago, she’d nearly had a heart attack at the sound of the pipes running water upstairs.

Okay. She was all right for the moment.

She was living with an assassin who was likely using her on behalf of the government. Maybe killing his own people waiting for her to unlock the secrets of the Sefer.

And she’d slept with him. Angels above, what a fool she’d been. She’d let a moment of passion, of weakness, throw all her judgment to the wind.

Okay. Okay, that was done.

Knight wasn’t here. Maybe he’d really gone back to Machpelah, maybe not. Either way, she didn’t have much time. Could she trust him? No, she could never take that chance. She’d known, she’d known he was dangerous from the moment he killed those Redeemers. If she’d listened to her instincts she wouldn’t be here now.

Of course, she might not have the Sefer either. She continued pacing around the room. She’d never sensed an intent to harm her in his emotions. His attraction to her had been genuine, but she was used to that—it came with being an empath. And sometimes she felt an undercurrent of warmth coming off him. Maybe he really did like her. But even if that was true, a man like that might still kill her, if ordered to. The truth was, even if he liked her, she couldn’t trust him.

He’d taken one of the mono swords and that whip-knife thing. She could take the other sword, but she’d probably just cut her own arm off trying to wield it. Damn. All she had was a MAG that didn’t work on this planet.

The moment she stepped outside, the government might find her. But if Knight still worked for them, they already knew where she was. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t.

She grabbed her MAG and the Sefer, pressed on her breather, and ran from the apartment. The airlock took ten times too long to open, and then she was on the darkened streets. A hint of illumination lit the red sky, so it must have been afternoon, though it was hard to tell through the thick atmosphere.

Passersby watched her from beneath head scarves as she ran. She needed to move fast, but running would draw too many eyes. She darted into an alley and slowed her pace. Every few steps she found herself glancing over her shoulder. Hostility seemed to waft off the entire planet. It filled the city and choked her as surely as the atmosphere itself would. It seeped through her pores, suffusing her consciousness. The vile dregs of humanity threatened to consume her.

She caught herself running again, gasping for breath. It was her fear, only. No one watched. No one. Her breather felt too confining. If she could just remove it for a second …

She hailed a cab and jumped in. “Just drive. South district.” It didn’t matter where they went, just away from here.

The driver watched her from the rearview display, lust and rage oozing from him. Would he rape and murder her given the chance?

Her heart throbbed against her chest. She was panicking. She knew it. This was just a guy at work. She was letting fear drive her empathic senses into overload, fixating on every hint of a feeling. Her hand trembled as she reflexively brushed the MAG at her side. She had to get this thing working. It might be all that stood between her and God knew what fate.

Galizur’s company made the damn thing. Endbringer, indeed. Rachel told the driver to stop and paid him, not even sure where she was. She rushed from the cab, dimly recognizing the area. There was a trade tower nearby, with a pub on the first floor. She forced herself to walk to the airlock and hit the buzzer. No one knew she was here. No one would find her.

It whooshed open and she stepped inside. The pub was locally infamous for its stiff whiskey and bourbon, and back room services. The first time she’d been here, a waiter had tried to sell her a nanobot-induced orgasm. She’d politely declined, not even wanting to think about machines doing that to her nervous system.

After a few glances around the pub she strode over to the bar and slapped a kesitah chip on the counter. “Whiskey,” she said, her throat dry. “Strong.”

The bartender poured her a shot, and she downed it in one swig. The sudden burning in her throat and sinuses took the edge off her nerves. Another might simmer her down … No. It would dull her. She couldn’t afford that.

“I need a back room. Privacy.”

“Male, female, or nanobots?”

“Private, with access to the Mazzaroth.”

The bartender shrugged. “It’s your money. We can provide whatever you want.” He handed her a key card. “Down the hall, third room on the left, just past the washroom. Left side, mind. Third on the right is for group play.” He said the last with a wink, and a burst of lascivious emotion that turned her stomach.

Rachel snatched the card and hustled to the door on the left. Across the hall, she felt waves of erotic energy rippling out from the room. Even through a closed door the emotions reached her, threatened to overwhelm her. A sudden weakness built in her abdomen, and for a heartbeat she considered going back to the bartender for those nanobots.

With a grunt, she opened the door to her private room and slammed it, disgusted with herself. Being an empath in a place like this, it could get the best of her. She slumped against the closed door and tried to let the edge flow off her excitement.

She turned on the Mazzaroth and sent a channel to Galizur. No one answered. Angels’ wrath, she was going to kill that bastard. For one moment, she wondered if he’d had any idea about Knight when he sent her to him. But, no, that made no sense. QI was a rival of Jericho. If Galizur knew Knight had been or was working for Jericho, he’d have never brought them together. She was still going to give him an earful for it, though. If her brother had figured it out, it meant the information was out there.

Her brother. Jeremiah had tried to warn her. He’d told her. He’d said if she came in they wouldn’t wash her sins. Nothing could be more horrible than that. The thought of losing all she was … Worse than death. To have her body go on, have everyone think it was her, when all that made her who she was had fled. If they caught her on their own, it’s what they’d do. Void, her father might order it himself. A telepath would be in her mind, violating her.

She sunk to her knees and hugged herself. She had the Sefer, but she couldn’t read it. She couldn’t reach Galizur, who might be her only ally. David had turned on her, shown his true loyalty, just like before. Knight was a monster. And Galizur … He either wasn’t in, or wasn’t interested in her call. Probably the former, since he expected her to get the Sefer.

But she might not have much time. Knight could come back at any point. She had to make a choice.

“Call Jeremiah Jordan,” she said to the Mazzaroth. She forced herself to her feet. She’d be damned if she’d face them on her knees.

Her brother’s face flashed on the screen a moment later. “Now you want to talk?”

“Sorry, Miah. I …” God, what was she doing? Saving her life. She didn’t want one of his lectures, but maybe that was the price to be paid. If she’d never left, if she went back now, could all be forgiven? Could she have a family back, if she’d pretend to believe? “They really wouldn’t try to wash me?”

“People are dead, Rach. This is about as serious as it gets.”

No shit. She didn’t want to be one of those dead people. “I need guarantees.”

“I’m your brother. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You know I’m a man of my word. Just turn yourself in.”

“I …” She could do it. It must mean there were already Redeemers here. All she had to do was go to them, and they’d get her off this planet. Maybe she should just let them have the damn Sefer, for all the trouble it had brought her.

“Rachel, just tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”

“You’re here?” Her brother had come himself to Gehenna. He must love this place. “I’m …” They would take the Sefer. And it would never see the light of day again. They’d never destroy something made by the Angels, but it would be locked away waiting for the return of masters that were never coming back.

It was better than Jericho getting it, of course. To have the Ark hidden away damned mankind to stagnation, but at least it wouldn’t let this Caleb Gavet conquer the universe one transaction at a time.

But by handing over the Sefer, she was allowing Jeremiah to damn humanity. Which made her responsible. People would never reach beyond where they were now. They had barely progressed in the last six hundred years. At least outside of Asherah. And if they were really cyborgs there—though she had seen none in her time in Triangulum—then one day they would come and take the rest of the Local Group. Sentinels protected Mizraim through superior training and superior numbers—but one day Asheran technology would far outstrip anything the Sentinels had. They broke the rules and got ahead doing it. It was the way of progress. It was inevitable, if the Redeemers took the Sefer.

And, in the end, they’d wash her sins. That’s what they did with khapiru. Whatever her brother said, they’d blame her for the death of their own. And even if they didn’t, she had come so far to bring the Ark to mankind, not to let it fall to the Redeemers or Jericho Corp.

She grit her teeth and shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here, Miah.”

“Just tell me where you are!”

She was in hell. But Jeremiah’s wasn’t a hand she could take to escape it.

“Goodbye, brother. Mazzaroth off.”

The screen flickered dead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I was sixteen when I left my family. My own father called me khapiru because I refused to believe as others believed, because I refused to accept without proof. What he called faith, I called blind loyalty. But if the whole universe thinks me insane, maybe it’s not them. I walked out and I proved to New Rome I belonged there. I passed every test, I gave them no choice but to accept me into NRU. And at long last, I gave them the excuse to cast me from it. And now, with nowhere left to turn, I was actually considering returning to a family I had turned my back on. I find myself asking whether my pride is worth dying over.

With the bike secured in an alley, Knight stalked the streets of Machpelah, keeping to the shadows. All those years of training made him a ghost, silent and black. No one on the streets saw him unless he wanted them to.

It was the way.

The lights were on in the Lazarus Group’s bunker. Now, though, there were probably government troops inside. Knight kicked off the side of the building, vaulting from handhold to handhold to ascend to the rooftop.

They might have set a watch at the window. It was always best not to reuse the same routes. Always be where no one expected it.

Rachel wanted the damn notes, she’d get them. She’d get the notes, and they’d leave this planet. And then maybe … No! He’d made that mistake with Shirin. He’d let his guard down and she was dead. He would not allow himself to repeat the weakness. He would not let Rachel meet the same fate because he … Knight shook his head and grit his teeth.

From the rooftop he spotted the exhaust shaft. It would lead down into the air filtration system. He crouched by the shaft and pulled his mono sword. Get in and get out, two minutes, tops. He hefted the blade with both hands and chopped through the lock on the maintenance hatch.

He flung open the door and jumped into the shaft, slowing his descent with hands on either wall. The shaft reached down three stories; he stopped himself after two. A rotating fan pushed the exhaust upward. Knight focused, allowing the world to slip into slow motion. In his mind’s eye, the already slow-moving fan stilled to a crawl. Watch the blades. Timing is everything.

He focused on a single blade, waiting until it came around. Then he dropped. Knight folded his arms at his side and shot downward. The fan blades slashed through the tips of his hair as he fell and landed in a crouch at the base of the system.

Knight grimaced, pinching a strand of his severed locks between his fingers to inspect it. Damn it. His hair, and worse, his DNA. For a moment, he considered trying to round it all up, but it would take forever and he’d probably never find every last strand.

He blew out a breath, then took in the whirring machinery down here. The air was thick and his mind began to swim. Too much carbon dioxide inside this thing. A door led to the main building.

No time to catch his breath. No time to wait.

It wasn’t locked—the builders wouldn’t want someone to get trapped in here. Knight edged open the door and peered into the hall. No one up here. He slipped outside, shutting the door behind him, then breathed deeply. The injections they’d given him may have let him breathe the local atmosphere, but they must not have been designed for the inside of filtration systems. Or maybe a normal person would have passed out in there.

Time was short. He’d already spent almost a minute in here. No shadows to hide in. The direct approach would have to do. His adrenaline shot up and he ran, leaping over the side of the landing rail at the top of the stairs.

“No way am I going in there to bother him,” someone said from the lower floor.

Knight caught himself on the rail of the lower level, pushed off from it, then dropped down on the speaker, slamming the soldier to the ground. His comrade tried to shout, tried to attack. Knight reacted faster, catching the man’s arm and driving a fist into his gut. He spun the soldier around and smashed his head into the stair rail.

Time was ticking.

He dashed for the lab.

A soldier was there, standing guard, when Knight came around the corner. “Holy—” the man shouted, raising his lancerod.

Knight jumped to the wall, running two steps along it to dodge the projectile. It impacted where he had stood. Knight kicked off the wall and crashed into the soldier, driving him into the lab’s airlock. He pressed a forearm into the staggered man’s throat, then slipped a knife between his ribs. The soldier sunk to the floor, leaving a streak of blood on the airlock.

After pushing the body aside, Knight buzzed the door. Beyond, through the glass, stood the Gibborim. He turned to face Knight, his eyes concealed by his visor, but a slight grin edged the corners of his mouth. He drew and expanded a mono katana. He was in full armor, his chest piece adorned with the Lambda sign.

Knight stepped into the room, brandishing his own katana. He pressed the button on the hilt and it uncompressed with a slight click, expanding to its full length.

“It is you, isn’t it, Lambda?” the Gibborim said.

“So you’re my replacement.”

“God, you were a legend, you know that?” Lambda shook his head, chuckling. “Sarah’s going to love it when I bring her your head.” Lambda circled him, and Knight followed suit, finding his footing in the lab. “She thought you might come back here. I didn’t think you’d be so stupid. We’re going to get that book, Knight.”

So it wasn’t just Rachel they wanted. He should have seen that. Why would they care about some offworlder? “You talk too much.”

Lambda jerked into sudden motion, flinging a pair of throwing knives from his left hand. Knight’s adrenaline kicked in and the knives slowed. A simple twist carried him between the two projectiles, and he hurled himself toward Lambda, swinging low.

Lambda jumped on a table, dodging the attack, then kicked at Knight’s head. Knight twisted again. With a flip, Lambda landed on the other side of the table, then chopped it in half with his mono sword.

Knight attacked, his blade flashing. Lambda was fast, very fast. He parried a dozen strikes before Knight’s sword caught his helmet. It slashed open the visor. Lambda stumbled back and ripped off his helmet.

Knight circled him. “If legends were easy to kill, they wouldn’t be legends, bitch.”

Lambda roared at him and charged. Knight bent over backwards to avoid a vicious swing at his neck, then twisted and rolled on the floor. Lambda jumped over his low riposte and kicked him in the face.

The impact staggered him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Pain shot through him, but he cut it off almost as fast. He landed in a roll, coming up in a two-handed parry to stop Lambda’s overhand chop. Knight was on one knee. Precarious. He parried two, three blows, unable to get the upper hand from this position.

He threw himself forward, diving under a table. Lambda rushed forward, sword high. Knight kicked off the floor, pushing himself to the wall, then sprung to his feet. He leapt to the wall behind himself, kicked off it, and flipped over the charging Gibborim.

As he landed, his slash tore open the man’s back, and Lambda collided with the wall, his sword skittering from his grasp. Knight’s replacement turned slowly and slumped against the wall. Blood trickled from his mouth. It seemed like he wanted to speak again, but it only came out as a gurgle.

Just as well. Knight didn’t want to hear it. He slashed again, ending the poor bastard.

A flick of his wrist flung the blood from his blade.

So Sarah knew he was involved. He growled through his teeth, then took in the lab. Damn Rachel for this. If Sarah had any doubt he was involved before, she wouldn’t now.

He snatched every data tablet he could find. Maybe the government was still using this lab for research, maybe they weren’t. Either way, he couldn’t afford to be here.

Whatever brief respite he may have enjoyed from Sarah’s attentions, that was ended now, he had no doubt. Before, maybe she was content to leave him be, considering him more trouble to terminate than he was worth. Until he had to go and fuck with her plans, whatever she was doing.

If Sarah was after the Sefer Raziel, she’d probably be the one to wind up with it. She wasn’t the kind to give up. Sarah would hunt them, track them, and sooner or later, she’d find them. Unless he could get Rachel off this planet damn quickly. And Rachel would wind up just like Shirin.

This was why he couldn’t let himself get too close.

The tablets stowed in his coat, Knight ran from the lab and out into the bunker. He dashed up the stairs, taking down three more government soldiers on his way. His former employer was not going to be happy. She’d send more than one of his brethren next time, and even Knight could only face so many Gibborim at once.

He charged out of the bunker and into the street, not bothering to hide. Instead, he made a mad dash for his hoverbike. He had to get back to Rachel.

God, if they were waiting for him here, they could be after her. There was no time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

October 4th, 3096 EY

My father became a Redeemer after the Balthazar
Incident. People blamed the Asherans for the loss of the Sentinel ship and crew. They claimed cyborgs had violated the Commandments, had turned their backs on God. And Father decided all such khapiru must be punished. My brother followed in his footsteps when I was fifteen. Sometimes, I think that’s when I truly lost him. And sometimes, I know I lost him the day Father joined the Redeemers.

Sad to think he saw Beeroth as home, but he’d had nothing else since he left the Gibborim. Hopefully not for much longer, though. Knight stowed the hoverbike, then ran for his apartment. Just get Rachel, and get off this planet. No more waiting, no more excuses.

Inside the building, he slowed his steps. Running attracted too much attention. He swiped his key card and stepped inside. Even a quick glance told him the place was empty.

Knight stepped back against the inside wall, scanning the room. The washroom door was open, so she wasn’t there. No one was. Had they already come for her? No sign of struggle. It meant she had to be safe. She had to.

The idiot girl had probably disobeyed and gone out. For God’s sake, if she was indulging her need to sample restaurants he’d feed her to the void.

He might be the only chance she had. So why the void couldn’t she just do as she was told?

There might be no coming back here. He hurried to the couch, shoved it aside, and pulled up the loose floor panel. He grabbed the bag of kesitahs. He’d imprinted several chips with all the money he’d earned as a mercenary. Still not enough to get him far, not without the rest of that money from Rachel. It was just the money. That’s all he needed. Damn her! Why did she have to put him in this position? Truth was, he couldn’t leave her to the Gibborim.

And there was nothing left in this place. Nothing to call his own. Once, he’d had everything he could have asked for, anything money could buy and then some. Hollow. It had been stripped away in an instant—his accounts frozen, all he had, taken. And none of it mattered. His time in Beeroth was just that—time spent toward an end. An escape from the chains of purgatory.

This place was a shell, as empty as he was. Except for … He brushed the dust away from the same hole he’d buried the money in. Underneath it all rested a pair of holo glasses, now cracked. Once, Shirin had used the model for portable Mazzaroth access. It had given her full holographic displays of any point she wanted to enter. Of course, it had done more than that. He gently probed the data rod. It had plugged into a cybernetic port in her temple.

Once, he’d allowed himself to get past the violation of the First Commandment. Once, he’d taken an Asheran cyborg into his heart. And now this was all that remained.

After tucking the glasses into his coat, he left the apartment, he hoped for the last time. He had to find the girl. He raced down to the Babel Bazaar. She liked that place. He stowed the bike, then hurried through the airlock.

He checked every restaurant in the bazaar, but no one had seen the girl.

Rage simmered beneath the surface, but Knight tried to keep his face a mask. She wasn’t here. God, if she was already caught … or she’d run off … He couldn’t let himself go there. She was his ticket out of this galaxy. That was all. To even dream of anything more, to allow himself to make the same mistake all over again—no!

But he had to find her.

He stopped in a weapon shop, briefly glancing at an assortment of knives. They knew him here. Not by name, of course, but the owner nodded at him. Knight pressed a kesitah chip into the man’s hand. “I need to use the Mazzaroth.”

The owner checked the value, then nodded, indicating his office with a jerk of his head. Knight stepped into the back room and shut the door.

“Mazzaroth personal access, Ezekiel Knight, code Shinobi 1275-L.” The screen flickered on. “Contact Rachel Jordan.” Maybe, just maybe she was back in a hotel somewhere. He had to try. He placed his hands flat on the desk, trying not to fidget while the line buzzed. She wasn’t answering. Of course, she probably had no line. Maybe the Gibborim already had her.

A headache built in his temples. His mouth was dry. Damn that girl. He never should have taken this job, should have backed out the moment the government got involved. But Rachel was offering so much money. That was all. It was a chance to escape. That was the only reason he was still with her. The only reason.

“Connection failed.”

Knight slammed his palm on the table. “Holy universe, Rachel!” He was rapidly running out of options. If the Gibborim already had her, there was one person who could tell him. But no way in the void he could open that door. Once he opened it, there was no shutting it. And yet, he had no choice. He had to know if they had her.

“Contact Hadrian Graves.” His voice sounded dry. A call he’d never thought to make.

For a time, the line buzzed, and Knight thought maybe Hadrian wouldn’t take his call either. Then the man’s face lined the screen. His head was shaved, though thick stubble covered his face. He didn’t wear his helmet, but he had the uniform on, the Omega sign clear on his chest.

“Zeke.” Hadrian’s voice was low, raspy as ever. “You shouldn’t have called.”

“I need your help, Hadrian.”

His friend shook his head, turned his eyes down. “No one can help you now, Zeke. You should have stayed low. They weren’t even looking for you. Sarah knew you were alive, but she figured you were too much trouble. Now …”

Pretty much what he’d figured. “You could still come with me.”

“I can’t. You got out. You should have stayed out.”

Yes, he damn well should have. And now he had one option left. “I need to know if you have Rachel Jordan.”

Hadrian blew a long breath, looking down. “Zeke …”

“Please, Hadrian. If everything we’ve been through means something, just tell me.”

His friend looked up then, holding his gaze. “We don’t have her. Not yet. But you know we will.”

Knight couldn’t swallow. He knew only too well. There was so little time. “You should have come with me.”

“It’s too late.”

Knight shut his eyes. Maybe it had always been too late for Hadrian. “Mazzaroth off.”

He had to get off this planet. They’d be after him in hours at best. And before he could go anywhere, he had to find Rachel.

He slipped back into the main room of the weapon shop. “I need to find someone,” he told the owner. “Rachel Jordan. Pretty girl, average height, long brown hair. Offworlder.” He slid another kesitah chip over the counter. “Spread the word. I’ll pay big for it.”

The man shrugged. “A picture would help.”

“I don’t have one. But she likes visiting restaurants. Warm brown eyes, too. Just spread the word.”

He left and offered the same bribe to every restaurant in the Bazaar, then moved on to every other food court he could find. It didn’t matter how many bribes he had to lay. He was going to find that girl, and he prayed he’d find her before Sarah.

Because Gehenna had somehow managed to become even more inhospitable to both of them. And it was up to Rachel to get them off this planet and into Mizraim space.

Of course, if the Gibborim didn’t have her, it meant she’d run off on her own, for God only knew what inane reason. The girl was off rotation, but she didn’t deserve what Sarah would do to her. No one did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

When I left the university, shamed and on the verge of destitution, I still could have found work as a pilot. I could have gone beyond the bounds of the Empire to lecture. Or I could have joined almost any corp. My educational background and special knowledge of Angel history and technology would have made me an asset to any megacorp in the Conglomerate. In truth, I was considering an offer from Jericho when Galizur found me and made me a sweeter deal. It wasn’t just that it was more money, it was that he spoke of the betterment of mankind. And perhaps I was naïve to think him true to his word. But then, from all I’d read of Jericho, they would have been worse.

Caleb Gavet’s office on Sepharvaim had a view of the cerulean forest that covered much of the planet’s southern hemisphere. Laban Worlds had terraformed the planet to Jericho’s specifications, creating a world ideal for the development and testing of new pharmaceuticals. Widely varying rainforest covered so much of the planet that it teemed with indigenous flora, despite very little fauna. Other than monkeys for testing, Jericho hadn’t seen the need to populate the planet with animals.

In the morning, when the wind blew, the blue-tinged leaves swayed in the breeze, and it almost looked like waves in the ocean. Caleb liked the ocean, but the corporate office didn’t offer a view of that.

Caleb chewed his thumb, watching the flow of the forest from a hundred and fifty floors up. Some of those trees were a hundred meters tall, but from up here, they looked miniature.

“Mr. Gavet?” Rebekah said. “There’s news.”

Caleb turned to look her up and down. His nineteen-year-old assistant had hair dyed flame orange and yellow eyes that sparkled. She wore a small ring in one nostril that he had an almost irresistible urge to nibble on. “I’ve told you, you can call me Caleb, Rebekah.”

“Yeah, I …” Her eyes darted to the door like someone could hurt them here. “Caleb. There are reports of a Sentinel ship headed for Gehenna.”

Caleb pictured her nipples under that tight top. He watched her figure, thinking of stilling her nervousness by rubbing her shoulders. Then her words sunk in, shattering the image. “Mizraim. You’d better go. And get me Apollo on the line.”

“I, uh … You’re sure?” She gnawed her lip in a way that made him want to bend her over his desk.

“Yes, Rebekah. Please do it now.” He shook his head, glancing down at the picture of his wife and children. They were waiting for him in his estate outside the city. What would his wife think if she knew the horrid things that went through his mind? Rebekah wasn’t even the first, not by a long shot. He just couldn’t stop himself.

He collapsed into his chair the moment Rebekah left, watching the screen on the wall. He straightened his suit, but left his shirt half unbuttoned. He believed in a casual work environment, and he led by example. Of course, for Apollo, Caleb buttoned his shirt.

His screen flickered to life. Apollo’s quarters were dark as always, and all Caleb could see was a hint of his face. His eyes, a short beard. Caleb liked to think he was good at manipulating people’s expectations. Apollo was a master. He never showed himself all the way, so everyone was left to wonder what he was hiding. Caleb had to remind himself he was just being played. The man thought to add mystery to his air? Well, Caleb spent his days so deep in political intrigue he could swim through it. Let the eccentric scientist keep his front.

“You called.” Apollo’s voice was dry, emotionless as always.

“Things are progressing, but there’s been a complication. We may want to discontinue experiments on Gehenna until it’s been cleared up.”

“What complication?”

Caleb started to chew his thumb, then dropped it. In front of Apollo, it always seemed like a sign of weakness. He shouldn’t care, the man wasn’t even officially on the Jericho payroll. But the scientific advances he’d made… “Mizraim has sent Sentinels to Gehenna.”

“That’s of no consequence. Kill them if they get in the way.”

Caleb snorted. “Kill them? Sentinels? These aren’t Shiza security personnel we’re talking about. And besides, I don’t want to draw attention. I’ve no desire to become the next Keese. Look, we’ve gotten some good data. Maybe this should all be scrapped.”

“You want to wash away all the work we’ve done? This is not a setback, it’s an opportunity. Test it in the field. Let’s see what they can do.” That dry, almost monotone voice could really grate on him. Probably yet another affectation designed to do just that. Catch someone off guard, and you could control them.

“If someone finds out what we’ve been doing …”

“Then kill them. Problem solved.”

Caleb sighed. Whatever Apollo thought, Sentinels were not a good sign. But the man was right, they had worked too hard to give it all up.

“And the Sefer?” Apollo asked.

That. “We’re still searching. The Lazarus Group may have had it earlier. Now we think a rogue agent stole it from them. We’ve got people hunting her down. She’ll never make it off world. We’re watching both spaceports.”

“I want that Sefer. Find it, no matter the cost. And kill any Lazarus agents that get in the way.”

Yeah. Everybody wanted the Sefer. Including Caleb. It would lead him to the Ark. And with that, the entire board would be at his mercy. He’d be the chairman without question. More importantly, Jericho would finally surpass QI. “About that—”

“Get the Sefer, and we will unlock all the technological secrets your heart desires. Haven’t my discoveries already made you rich? They will pale in comparison.”

Oh, Apollo’s work had certainly been profitable. But Caleb still didn’t exactly trust the man. Of course, he knew better than to really trust anyone.

Apollo cut the line.

Caleb drummed his fingers on the desk. “Bring up all details on Rachel Jordan,” he said to the Mazzaroth. It provided a brief rundown on his screen. A former lecturer on New Rome, an Angelologist, who now seemed to travel quite a bit. Jericho’s records indicated she was probably on the Quasar Industries payroll. And the last thing Jericho wanted was another corp getting the Sefer. Especially QI. If they got it first, Jericho would likely be the one driven out of business, or even subsumed into QI. They’d already made strides in that direction, trying to develop nanobot construction techniques that damn near violated Jericho domain.

If it wasn’t for Apollo’s biomesh armor product line, some of the board would probably already be under the gun. But when he got the Ark, QI would see how it felt. Once the other tech megacorp had fallen, the rest of the Conglomerate would have to get in line. QI had exclusive contracts with the Sentinels, too. If the Sentinels lost those contracts, they’d be in a much weaker position. Which meant the Mizraim Empire itself could fall under this thumb.

But only if he played this just right.

“Contact Sarah Radison.”

Sarah was an attractive woman, but even Caleb didn’t find himself inclined to fantasize about her. Her eyes were hard, and she almost never smiled. Her dark brown hair framing her face almost, but not quite, softened it. “What is it?” she asked.

“I want you to send the Gibborim after Ms. Jordan.”

She frowned, though it was only a slight change in her expression. “I sent one. He turned up dead a little while ago. We believe a former asset is assisting her, a traitor we’ll need to deal with.”

Now Caleb frowned. Gibborim had traitors? “Aren’t these people supposed to be your elite enforcers, Sarah? I’ve trusted you to take care of things on Gehenna. If you can’t even keep a hold on your own people …”

“I’ve got a handle on it!” she snapped, her jaw almost trembling. “Now that we’re aware of the situation, I’m sending my best agent to rectify it.”

Caleb shook his head. “No, Sarah. You’re sending every available agent to get me Ms. Jordan and whatever data she may have acquired. If you get the chance to kill this traitor, fine. But the priority is Jordan.”

“As you wish.” Sarah ground her teeth. She might not like him giving orders, but she’d do what he said. On Gehenna, she had near absolute power. The Gibborim answered to her. But she answered to Caleb.

And Rachel Jordan was about to have a very bad day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Redeemers use a specialized non-lethal weapon called a stun baton. The name belies the truly despicable nature of the weapon. It functions like any other club, and Redeemers receive elite combat training in its use. But beyond that, it delivers an electrical charge specially designed to fry your nerves and induce the maximum amount of pain possible without actually rendering you unconscious. They want their victims aware enough to answer questions and respond to torture, but in too much pain to fight back.

Just keep running! Rachel’s heart felt like it would explode. The breather suffocated her. Down another alley, around another corner. She could hear the footfalls behind her. The shouts.

The Redeemers were so close she could almost feel their eyes on her. Judging her. Washing her sins. Hovers zipped by over the main street.

She was hyperventilating. It didn’t matter. When a hover passed by she threw herself into the street and made a mad dash for the other side. A horn blared and someone swerved, barely missing her.

“Stop her!” a man shouted behind her.

She dashed to the far side of the street, narrowly avoiding another hover. Jeremiah’s bastards were not taking her. She scurried around a building. There was no going inside—she’d be trapped. But she could escape on the monorail. She just had to get there.

There was no more hiding, just running as fast as she could. Her legs had turned to lead. Her lungs felt like ice and fire all at once. Her vision had started to blur. She raced down the stairs into the station, fumbling with a kesitah to slip in the slot. It fell from her fingers. She didn’t stop to get it, just pulled another.

A hand grabbed her shoulder. She jerked her elbow back into the attacker’s face. A man gurgled and fell. She glanced at him. Not a Redeemer—a civilian. She winced, but had no time. Redeemers were rushing down the staircase. They’d spotted her.

Her kesitah clicked into the slot and the gate opened. She dashed through and skidded to the edge of the track. Ahead, she could hear the train on its way. A few more seconds. Just a few.

The Redeemers had cleared the gate. A pair of them moved to either side of her, extending their stun batons. Rachel drew her MAG. “Stay back.”

They hesitated a moment, then two more Redeemers stepped around them, one clearly the lead. Tall, muscular, with spiked hair. Jeremiah.

His eyes met hers. “It doesn’t work,” he said.

The MAG fell to her side. How he knew no longer mattered. She was done.

Her brother’s eyes were cold, but she could feel the rage simmering off him. She’d really considered giving herself up to him? Vile condemnation seeped from his aura, leaving her nauseous.

“You really can’t stand to lose, can you?” she said.

“Runs in the family.”

The train screeched to a halt, and Rachel ran for it. The doors slid open. Something jabbed her side and a jolt of electricity raced through her. Her muscles convulsed and she tumbled to the ground, almost falling onto the track. Currents of pain shot through her nerves. Couldn’t think. The pain receded quickly, but even the memory of it left her gasping, wanting to weep.

Hands roughly lifted her to her knees. Someone pulled her head back to look in her brother’s eyes.

“Give it to me,” he said. “Give me the Sefer, Rachel.”

“Go to hell.”

She saw the slap coming. The jerk of his shoulder, the way he reared back. And she could do nothing to avoid it. The sharp crack echoed through the station. The hands holding her kept her from falling, but it felt like her jaw was broken. Tears welled in her eyes from the sting and the copper tang of blood filled her mouth. She’d bitten her tongue.

Jeremiah tore open her vest and the tablet fell. “Finally.” He grabbed it, then looked down at her, shaking his head. “Bring her,” he said, and stepped onto the train.

Angel’s wrath, he was really going to wash her. “No!” She lunged at one of the Redeemers who held her, then bit his arm.

“Bitch!” he snapped, shoving her away.

She slid on the floor, then pushed herself up. Jeremiah had the Sefer. For one second she hesitated. Now might be her only chance to get away. They had what they really wanted … and humanity would pay the price for it.

“Hurry up and bring her!” her brother said. “The train is leaving.”

One of the Redeemers joined Jeremiah on the train, while the other two moved in on her.

And then a black blur slammed into one. Knight had an arm around the man’s neck and spun, twisting his arm. He smashed the man’s head into the train.

“Knight!” Rachel shouted. “He has the—”

The train doors flashed and slid shut. Her brother threw himself against the glass door, glaring at her through it.

The last Redeemer spun to face Knight, stun baton extended. “You’re gonna pay for—”

Knight charged.

The Redeemer thrust with the baton. Knight stepped around it, caught his arm, and spun him around, jabbing the baton into the man’s own stomach. The man convulsed in Knight’s arm, but Knight didn’t release the poor bastard. For agonizing seconds the Redeemer jerked in pain Rachel knew all too well. Then Knight let him drop, and he laid spasming on the ground. Did he live? Or were those just the electric remnants stimulating his nervous system?

Knight spun on her. She tried to back away, but he was there in an instant, hands on her shoulders. “I told you to stay in the apartment! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why betray me?”

She jerked her knee up to catch him in the groin. He moved too fast, twisting his body and flinging her into the station wall. The impact knocked her breath away. Everything was blurred a moment, before she could push herself up. “You’re an assassin! You work for the Gehennan oligarchy. And you say I betrayed you?”

Knight’s face drew into a scowl that might have stopped a lesser heart. “Not. Any. More.”

Rachel rose to her feet. Trying to fight was pointless, but if she waited for the right moment maybe she could escape.

He grabbed her elbow and yanked her along behind him. “Come on.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home!” he snapped.

Was it possible he had told the truth? Could he have left the Gibborim? He’d fought for her, killed for her. Killed so many people. Had any of them really deserved it? Did such a man even have a soul?

And if he did, hadn’t he offered it to her? By doing what he felt he had to in order to protect her, had he given her more than she asked for? And if she continued to work with him, to use his services knowing what he was and what he’d been, she would be culpable for those actions, at least in her own conscience.

But he had protected her. If he spoke the truth and wouldn’t hand her over to the Gibborim, he was such an asset. And she’d seen the depths beneath his armor—there was real caring there, hidden under a lifetime of scars and hatred and more violence than she could conceive of.

Was it possible he’d left it all behind? All she felt now from him was anger, hurt, and defiance. But not malice, not the intent to do her harm. If he focused on her like that, intended to betray her, wouldn’t she know? Wouldn’t she feel it?

If she ran, he’d catch her, unless she found the perfect moment.

But if she went with him … Knight could protect her. And maybe, maybe she could save him too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

When Knight came back for me, despite all I knew about him, my first reaction was relief. Foolish of me in the extreme, perhaps, and yet, seeing him gave me a moment’s respite. I had rejected him and run from him, and somehow he still came to my rescue.

Stupid, stupid girl. How had she even found out about his past? No, it didn’t matter. Knight glanced back at her as he pulled her along.

She tried to hide her fear, but he could see it. He’d seen it in so many eyes over the years. So many victims, some trying to put up a brave facade, some begging. Some cursing the shadows, knowing something was there, stalking them. Knowing he was there.

But Rachel was different.

Damn it!

And he couldn’t afford to have her fighting him. He needed her if either of them were going to get out of this alive.

He shook his head, and glanced back at her. “All right, listen to me. Whatever I was, whatever I grew up as, I’m not that any more. You know who I am. I’m a mercenary trying to get off this rock. And I need you to help me do that, right now, Rachel. We cannot stay here. They’re looking for us both, now.”

“Why should I believe you?” she asked, not fighting his grasp, but still not cooperating.

He couldn’t well drive the bike with her like this. “Because they’re after me, too. Because I’ve risked everything for the chance you offer, the chance to get out of this life. How do you think I came to work for them? That I chose to be Gibborim because of the near unlimited expense account?”

“So that’s what they paid you? Whatever you wanted?”

Yeah. That’s what they had paid, when he’d graduated to full Gibborim status. You could have anything you wanted. Of course, there was a price for it. Everything had its price. And he had paid down through the years. His full life, he’d paid.

“I was raised into it, all right? I never had a choice.” Along with the other young trainees, the Gibborim had been his family, his mother and father, sick as it was. His earliest memories involved training with throwing knives. He learned to read like any other little boy. Except he also learned to kill at the same time. When he was six, they’d made him kill a fellow student in a fight to the death.

“And I might be doing it still. I don’t know. But things went bad.”

Finally, she stopped fighting and walked beside him willingly. “What things, Knight?”

He led her to the bike and started it. “Get on.”

“What things?”

There wasn’t time, he couldn’t … but he had to. Somehow, he had to tell her. “Three years ago I was sent to take down some corporate executive. There was another agent there …”

Shirin … an Asheran agent on Gehenna.

He shut his eyes. “She was …”

“She?” Rachel stood closer to him now. “God, you fell in love.”

“How the void do you know that?”

She shrugged. “I’m an empath.”

Well, that would have been nice to know a long time ago. Shit, how deeply had she probed him? Did she know how he’d started to feel? No. He shut that line of thought down in a heartbeat. Instead, he glared at her, hoping she could read the irritation. “Stay out of my head and get on the damn bike.”

She did, settling on behind him. “So what happened to her?”

Knight turned on the bike and it hummed to life. He shook his head and drove off, back toward his apartment. Shirin had tried to protect him. To protect him.

A hollow pain filled his chest. He’d never talked to anyone about this, except for Hadrian. There was no way. Not now. He drove in silence until he reached the garage for his apartment complex.

“Knight?” Rachel said, her tone soft in his ear. “She was killed?”

Knight hopped off the bike. “I’m done talking about this.”

“Knight …” Rachel trotted after him. “Knight, I’m sorry.” Her hand wrapped around his forearm. He couldn’t feel her warmth through his nanomesh coat, but somehow it was still a comfort. And an odd sensation. What did she intend? She knew what he was now, so could she still think …?

Then her grip tightened. In an instant, he felt his muscles tense in response to her fear. She leaned close to his ear. “There’re people here, I can feel them. Hostile.”

Knight kept his eyes forward, kept walking. She was right. Something was wrong, and he’d let himself get so caught up in the past he hadn’t seen it. They were here. In the shadows of the garage, maybe behind one of the hovers.

His fingers wrapped around the kyoketsu’s grip. “Can you drive a hoverbike?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“Then go.” He slipped the bike key card into her hand. “Run now!”

Rachel took off running as three Gibborim seemed to materialize from the shadows before the airlock.

Knight whipped the kyoketsu out, pressing the button to extend the cord. A monofilament line slid from the knife hilt, extending the reach of the knife blade several meters. The kyoketsu was the most difficult weapon Gibborim trained in. Few ever mastered it.

Knight had.

Knives flew at him. He jumped into the air, twisting and whipping the kyoketsu. The throwing knives soared past him. His own mono blade slashed down at one of the Gibborim, who had to dive for cover. He spun as he landed in a crouch, arcing the whip-knife over his head. It cleaved through a hover and drove another Gibborim back. In the same moment he flung a throwing knife from his off-hand, catching the dodging man in the mouth. Theta, it looked like.

One down.

Epsilon was charging him, mono sword ready in her hand. Knight jumped up, vaulted a hover, and ran after Rachel. She’d started the bike and was driving up the ramp. A flick of his wrist retracted the kyoketsu, and he stowed it as he ran. He just had to vault on the bike, and they’d be clear.

A glance over his shoulder told him the Gibborim was too close, she’d catch him on the ramp. And Rachel would be caught. Shit.

Knight dove into a roll, pulling throwing knives from the straps on his thighs as he turned back on Epsilon, and flinging both in a single fluid motion.

One bounced off her armor, the other off her helmet. The impact must have stunned her, at least for a moment. Knight shoulder-plowed into the woman, sending her skittering along the ground.

The other Gibborim was closing in. Gamma. Knight had known him—a little too proud, and a man like who liked to take full advantage of Gibborim perks. Gamma flung more throwing knives. Time seemed to slow, and Knight dodged each, stepping around them. And then Gamma moved faster than Knight had ever seen, flinging four more knives. Knight twisted, dodging, but one caught his cheek and carved a hot line of blood through it.

He heard the screech as Rachel rode the bike away. At least she’d make it out.

Epsilon was back up. She was closing in, sword in hand. Gamma drew a blade too, extending it.

Knight wrapped his hand back around the kyoketsu, then jerked it out, flinging it at Gamma’s neck. The other man bent backward to evade the whip-knife and slashed to counter. Knight did a butterfly kick in the air over the sword, then whipped the kyoketsu straight down.

The knife cleaved into Epsilon’s helmet and embedded into her skull. Knight jerked on the cord, pulling her body into Gamma’s way. He stepped into the man, caught his arm, and twisted, jerking Gamma’s sword out of his hand.

It clattered to the ground.

Gamma kicked him, sending Knight stumbling backward. The force of it stunned him a moment, but only a moment. The nanomesh probably took the worst of it.

A hoverbike shrieked nearby, and Gamma glanced at it. Knight used the chance to kip up to his feet and launch himself into the air. He landed with his knees on Gamma’s shoulders and twisted, flipping him around and flinging him through the air.

Rachel gunned the bike back down the ramp and slid to a stop nearby. “Are you coming?”

She’d come back for him? Why? Why would she risk herself for him? A numbness settled in his brain as he dashed for the bike and leapt on behind her.

She spun around and launched the bike up the ramp. “Are they dead?”

“Not all of them.” Not by a long shot. There would be more, very soon.

She’d come back for him. For him? After all that posturing about how he was an assassin … She was trying to protect him. Like Shirin had done. And it had cost her life.

He pointed down an alley. “Pull in there.”

“What? There’s no way out of—”

“Do it!”

The bike shrieked from her sudden turn, and he had to grip her shoulder tighter to hold on. Then it spun to a rest. He jumped off and ran to a hatch, angled up on the far wall. It would lead down into the depths.

“What—” Rachel started to say.

Knight drew his sword and cleaved through the lock, then flung open the hatch. “The Undercity. Come on.”

He jumped down the hole.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The less said about the Undercity, the better. If anyone reading this is not yet convinced of the Shadow Council’s apathy in caring for their world, I doubt this would be the tipping point.

Knight landed in near darkness. Every ten meters, faint lights glimmered in the upper corners, or they would have if half of them hadn’t burned out.

Rachel climbed down the ladder beside him a moment later. “What is this, a sewer?”

“Sewer, maintenance tunnels, power lines, chemical plants. The Undercity is the basic infrastructure for Beeroth. There’s one for every city on Gehenna.”

He took off down the tunnel, careful of his steps, trying not to get too far ahead of Rachel. She’d be lost down here without him, and he wasn’t going to leave her to Sarah’s minions.

They could well lose the Gibborim down here. His former brethren knew of these tunnels, of course, and used them sometimes on jobs, but tracking a person down here was difficult. Which was one reason Gibborim used them as escape routes.

“Won’t they know we came down here?”

“They’ll figure it out fast, but not where we went.”

“Knight, I can barely see a thing.”

He waited for her to catch up, then grabbed her hand. She murmured something, and he realized his gloves were slick with blood. Well, no time for squeamishness. She was in a damn sewer, after all.

“Sorry about your home,” she said after a minute.

She damn well should be. But then, she’d come back for him. “Believe me now?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was dry, quiet.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me.”

She snorted. “I wasn’t going to just leave you.”

A weight built in his stomach. Why not? Why shouldn’t she have fled? “Don’t speak until we’ve gone further in,” he said.

For a while, he led her through the tunnels. They stank of chemicals, waste, rust, a combination of aromas he’d almost managed to forget. The ways were a tangled series of interlocking canals, tubes, and small lines that ran for hundreds and hundreds of kilometers. Even with a map it was easy to get lost.

But Knight remembered the way from here. At least, he thought he did. Probably a lot of the Gibborim had their own private places down here. He knew Hadrian had—he was the one who had shown Knight the idea. You never told anyone about your sanctuary. He was breaking the rule with Rachel, taking her there. He’d broken it once before, too.

God, let this time have a better ending.

For thirty minutes or more he led her through the winding ways, and at last down a hatch to a lower level. Overhead, a plant processed and purified water, running the cleaned stuff through the pipes now over their heads. He felt Rachel look up at them, but she said nothing.

From here, he had to follow the largest pipe around the bend. Beyond that, he bypassed the central bazaar, but Rachel stopped and stared down the hall at the cluster of shanties, sheets covered in broken wares, and barely edible food.

“People live down here?”

“Those who can’t find shelter in the slums above. The maintenance crews have portable air filters. The locals fitted one into the bazaar. Come on, it’s not too much further.”

He didn’t keep his sanctuary too close to the bazaar. It had to be far enough off the beaten path no one would stumble across it by mistake. Which meant passing the acid scrubbers stripping chemicals and alkaline out of the water before it reached the purifiers. The excess was shot out in compressed streams of hot acid that could melt skin, so most people steered clear. But you just had to learn the timings, and he had.

“Wait,” he said, and a shot of the steaming liquid caked the far wall. It lasted only a moment, and then they would have sixty-three seconds to cross. “Come now, quickly.”

He led her by the hand through the tube, and into a side hall beyond it. The old door ahead stuck, and he had to force it with his shoulder. Once, the room had been used to house maintenance robots and tools. The government had abandoned the storeroom a decade ago for newer facilities.

A faint light illuminated the room, now filled with a sleeping mat, a tablet with a few books on it, and a stack of canned food. “It’s not much, but we’ll be safe here. For a little while, anyway.”

Rachel sighed and sunk down on the mat. “I lost the Sefer.”

Knight shrugged. He was sick of that damned thing. He tossed the tablets he’d stolen onto the mat beside her. “Here’s the research anyway.”

The government was probably watching the spaceports now. They were good and truly screwed, unless Rachel had some brilliant plan up her sleeve.

She paged through the tablets, grunting every once in a while. Knight sunk down on the cold floor and pried open a can. Manna Products’ lowest end goods, cans of protein and vitamin meal. Crunchy, largely tasteless, and enough to sustain a person, if not satisfy. He broke off a piece and handed it to Rachel. She gnawed on it, then frowned, staring down at the bar.

“Eat it.”

He’d killed three of the Gibborim, counting Lambda. Sarah wouldn’t take any more chances. When they came at him, it would be hard and fast. For the moment, though, they’d be licking their wounds. Gibborim didn’t die too often. The new faces might be nervous, maybe just a little, at the thought of going after him. He could use that.

He leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. You had to be able to quiet your mind. Had to be able to rest when you had the chance.

“I need to get the Sefer back,” Rachel said. “We have to get it back from the Redeemers.”

Knight had almost dozed off. It had been too long since he’d slept. “It’s lost. Forget the damn thing.”

“I can decode it now, Knight. With what you brought me, I’m sure I can. And we can’t let the Redeemers leave here with it. Don’t you understand what that would mean?”

He didn’t know, or care. He opened his eyes and looked straight into hers. They were sparkling brown, almost yellow. “Don’t you think our situation is fucked up enough as it is? No, of course not. You want to go looking for more trouble. I won’t take that risk, and neither should you. The only thing you should be focusing on is getting us off this planet without either of us dying.”

She scrambled over to him. “Knight, listen. The Sefer Raziel holds the secrets the Angel meant for mankind to unlock, including the way to the Ark.”

No, no, no. This could not continue. She was going to die—they were both going to die unless she gave this up. Knight shut his eyes, not wanting to have to look at her imploring face. “Means nothing to me.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth, but she paid no heed. Probably sensed the lie. Damned empath!

“The Ark was the Angels’ central computer, Knight, the repository of all their knowledge. Maybe of all the knowledge in the universe. The truth about God Himself, some people say. If we had it …”

“We’d be the target of every power-mad little shit in the holy universe.”

She pushed on his shoulders, forcing him to open his eyes. Her touch had been warm even through his coat. Or maybe he’d imagined it. “Listen, Knight. This is the future of humanity we’re talking about. If the Redeemers find it, people will never even know. If Jericho gets it, they’d exploit it.”

Knight held her wrists, suddenly sickened by the blood covering his gloves. He yanked them off, then pushed Rachel back again, leaning in close. “And you think your friend at Quasar Industries won’t?”

She leaned away, and brushed her hair from her face. “Fine. Pretend you don’t even care about your race. But I know better. I know who you are.”

How? A few hours ago she thought he was a murdering psycho working for the government. How could she know him? It was not his problem. People had to look out for themselves. That was all. “Rachel …”

He couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her close, then kissed her. Her lips were salty with sweat and none of it mattered.

At last she pushed him away and shook her head. “Knight, please. Not right now.”

“We could … The Third Commandment,” he said. “You know I have good genes. We’d have strong children.”

“Not like this. I’m sorry.”

“Are you one of those people who thinks you have to be married to have kids?” Really? He’d heard some off-worlders claimed that, though Angels had never cared.

Rachel shook her head, her fists clenching like she struggled hard against something.

“It’s that other guy? Then why even let it start with me?” He shook his head.

“I just—I don’t know, Knight.”

He jumped up and stormed out of the sanctuary. For a while, he wandered the halls, then grabbed a few supplies from the bazaar. He couldn’t well leave her alone there for long. She’d wander out and get herself lost, or worse.

“Knight,” she said the moment he returned. “I’m sorry.” She rose and walked to him. “Really. It’s just not the time.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, Galizur can get us both out of here. All I have to do is call him and say we’ve got the Sefer and the translation, and he would arrange an extraction. But we have to get the Sefer! You know QI has the resources to pull it off, even with Jericho running things.”

What? He leaned forward. “Jericho?”

Rachel watched him a moment, then coughed. “Wow, you really didn’t know. Jericho Corp is the power behind the scenes on this planet. Your boss’s boss, I guess you could say.”

Damn. Had that been what the coup was about three years ago? Had he gotten caught up in some corporate power play? None of that mattered anymore. His old life was long gone, and Rachel was his only chance at a new one.

“Your friend had better deliver, Rachel.”

She nodded.

Knight crawled over to the mat. “Get some sleep first.”

She hesitated a moment, then lay down beside him and shut her eyes. A sense of surrealism washed over him, the oddness of seeing her decide to trust him so completely. Few in his life ever had. But she wouldn’t take him. His body craved her more than he could stand, and she had to feel it. The way she stirred, the slight tension in her shoulder—she felt it.

And it was more. He wanted her to give him children. In his whole life, he’d barely ever thought about it. With Shirin, there was never time.

And there wasn’t time now. Even if he couldn’t have her, she had trusted him. Off rotation as she was, that still counted for a lot.

Maybe everything.

“Rachel,” he said after a few minutes. “You know they’ll be expecting us. The Redeemers.”

“Yeah.”

Knight watched her still form, her steady breathing, for a moment before shutting his eyes.

CHAPTER THIRTY

October 5th, 3096 EY

Knight had said Galizur had better deliver. He was right. With the government after us, we could never get off Gehenna now, not without outside help. The spaceports would be closed to us. For the first time, I guess I began to understand how Knight had felt, spending his life in the shadows. He told me he had failed to finish a job once, a hit on a corporate suit. And that someone he cared about died to protect him. From that day, he lived in hiding, knowing the moment the government discovered him his life was over.

Tracking the Redeemers hadn’t taken long. The zealots spread fear everywhere they went and didn’t have much use for subtlety. It didn’t surprise Knight to learn they’d checked into the Sheik. These people preached righteousness, but clearly they were used to the comforts of Mizraim. Out here on the edges of civilization, beyond the grasp of the great empires, people learned to manage with less.

It made them stronger.

“My source says they’ve rented the entire seventy-fifth floor,” Rachel said.

Knight nodded, crouched in the alley behind the hotel. He’d been up there once on a mission. The seventy-fifth floor of the Sheik was a giant suite with a central lobby featuring a hot tub, bar, and massive vid screen. Definitely a perk of wealth. And sloppy. They’d be relaxed. He’d slip in there and kill them all before they knew he was among them.

“All right. I want you to wait in the alley. I’ll go in, get the Sefer, and be back in a bit.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m coming—”

“No you’re not. You’d slow me down. I’m better, faster, alone.”

Rachel’s breath fogged her breather. She wasn’t happy, but she’d deal. “Look, just don’t kill anyone.”

Why the void not? Knight had to turn and look at her face. Shit, she was serious.

“I’ll try. Now stay here.”

He slipped from the alley into the shadow of the hotel itself, and from there strode to the airlock. He hit the buzzer and it whooshed open. Clear. He entered, hit the buzzer again and waited for the airlock to open into the lobby.

A man at the front desk nodded at him when he entered. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I need—”

A grenade rolled from around the corner. Knight dove to the side. It ruptured, spewing electrical discharge around the lobby. The edge of it caught his leg and sent him stumbling to the floor. Energy coursed through him, his leg convulsing, refusing to obey.

He had to get control.

Pain was in the mind.

His body was his own. Pain was in the mind.

Knight stilled his leg. Men were rushing him. Redeemers, five of them. He pushed off the ground with one hand, flipping in the air and coming down on top of one Redeemer. The impact slammed the man into the floor.

Another kicked him in the face. He stumbled backward, stunned. A man rushed him. Knight evaded the stun baton and slammed his hand into the man’s sternum, probably cracking it. The Redeemer fell with a sharp cry.

Jolts of electric pain shot through his leg as a stun baton cracked him there. He rolled with it, trying to get away. A man swung at him with another baton. Knight caught the man’s forearm on his arm, blocking several more blows from two more attackers.

He tried to go for his sword and another baton jabbed his shoulder. The electric discharge sent him sprawling, skittering over the smooth floor.

The airlock whooshed open as Knight tried to climb to his feet again. A sharp electric pain jabbed him in the shoulder and drove him to his knees.

“Knight!” Rachel’s voice. He couldn’t look up at her. He fell to his hands.

His muscles wouldn’t obey. Convulsions wracked him and it took all his training to keep from falling over. Pain was in the mind. In the mind. In the mind. In the mind.

“I knew you’d never give it up, Rachel,” the lead Redeemer said. “And we could hardly let a man who had killed so many of our brothers walk away from it.”

“Let him go!”

Knight looked up enough to see one of the Redeemers was holding her, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled, to no avail, in his arms.

Rachel.

Knight tried to rise, but the pain took his breath away.

But pain was in the mind.

The Redeemer leader spat. “Filthy khapiru, the both of you. You’ll be washed and purified. Maybe one day this wretch will even be useful to us. With proper retraining.”

Brainwashing? Knight chuckled, his breath still coming in gasps. They could do no worse to him than Gehenna had already done.

The Redeemer turned back to him. “Glutton for punishment? You want some more?”

Pain was in the mind. Rachel needed him.

Knight glared up at him, growling through teeth clenched against the pain. “I want it all!”

The nearest Redeemer jabbed at him again. Knight was faster. He snapped his palm into the man’s elbow and the baton clattered from his hand. Knight threw himself onto it, coming up with it in hand.

The Redeemers rushed him.

Knight stepped behind the closest one, swept his legs, caught his arm and flipped him upside down, yanking his arm out of socket. He kicked another in the chest. The third swung the baton. Knight parried. Two of them were swinging at him now.

Rachel was free. Screaming. She tackled one Redeemer.

His adrenaline soared. Time slowed. No pain. No fear. No thought.

He twisted his head a centimeter to dodge a jab, caught a man in the stomach with his elbow, reversed to jab another in the face with a baton. There was only instinct, only reaction.

Two were down, all were wounded. They coordinated their attack. But they were too slow. Knight shoved one into another and cracked the third Redeemer’s skull with his baton.

Rachel smashed one’s head on the floor.

Only the leader remained. He swung. Knight ducked, pounding his fist into the man’s stomach. He spun, catching him across the face with the baton. The Redeemer’s weapon clattered away, and he toppled.

Knight rammed the baton into the man’s shoulder, and he convulsed.

“Knight!” Rachel screamed. “Knight, stop!”

No. It was time to end this.

“Knight, he’s my brother! Please!”

At that he let the contact break and the Redeemer slumped to the ground, his convulsing arms unable to support his weight. Knight looked at Rachel, hard. A tremble ran through the girl. Her brother? Her own brother sent these men after her?

Knight kicked the man in the face, knocking him over. Knight leaned down beside him. “Praise God and your sister for your worthless life,” he said softly. “And pray you never come before me again.”

He flung the baton away, then searched the barely conscious man. The tablet was in his jacket.

Knight rose and his own legs gave out. The adrenaline must have started to wear off. He landed on his knees, another painful impact.

Rachel pulled him up. “Thank you …”

He shook his head, then thought better of it. God, his temples throbbed. A sudden urge to go kick her brother again welled up, but she was already dragging him away to the airlock.

“You’re a good guy,” she said, hitting the buzzer. “Sometimes.”

No. He wasn’t. He was a killer. He had done what he had to in order to survive. That was all. All he’d ever done.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

October 7th, 3096 EY

In my entire life, I’ve never seen anyone get up that quickly after being struck with a stun baton. Knight claimed it was mere mind over matter, the ability to recognize the mind controlled the body. Maybe that was Gibborim training. But then, I’d heard some of the greatest Psychs in the universe talk like that, saying the technique came from Angels themselves.

The Gehenna system orbited a red dwarf. David didn’t much like such stars—their dying light felt ominous, like a warning before the strike of an inescapable predator. From the moment the Logos exited the Gate into the system, red light suffused the bridge.

It took only a few minutes to reach the planet Gehenna. Waller stood beside David’s chair, eyes on the screen. David couldn’t feel anything coming off him, but he knew it was there. The anticipation, the need for validation. The captain thought the Sefer Raziel would ensure the eternal dominance of the Empire. Maybe it would. Mizraim was the legitimate heir of the Angels, and the only real defense against Asherah. The Ark falling to Jericho would be a disaster. And yet, to come here, to risk Rachel’s life …

All too soon, David pulled the Logos into orbit around the planet. He’d seen images of it before, but seeing it on the screen in person—the red, gaseous, bloated thing was all the more unsettling.

“McGregor. Take a shuttle and go get me that Sefer.”

“Sir.” David set the ship into autopilot to maintain orbit, then stood. “Lieutenant Dana.”

Phoebe rose from the weapons console and fell into step beside him. The bridge door slid open and they strode down the hall.

“Guess you don’t need a breather,” she said when the doors slid shut behind them.

He shook his head. Being a Smogger had advantages.

“I must say, I am deeply honored to have been chosen for such a prestigious and enlightening mission,” she said.

“Sarcasm noted.”

Phoebe grinned, revealing too-white teeth. She was young for a weapons officer, only twenty-eight.

“Oh no, sir,” she said, eyes sparkling. “I would never dare sarcasm. I’m positively overwhelmed by the chance to have my skin boiled by toxic gases.”

David smirked. The atmosphere wasn’t nearly that bad, and even if it were, her suit would protect her. “That mouth of yours must get you in a lot of trouble, lass.”

“Yes, sir.” She pushed a button to call a lift. “I get into all kinds of trouble with my mouth. One time I—”

The lift whooshed open. “Might want to keep it to yourself, Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir, I do have trouble keeping my mouth to myself.”

David snickered and stepped into the lift. It carried them down to the hangar, where he selected a shuttle. Phoebe strapped herself into the co-pilot’s seat while he did a quick preflight check.

He caught a glimpse of a breather in her hand. She must have pulled it from the storage locker in the back of the shuttle.

“You won’t need that until we get there.”

“Better to have it early than late,” she said.

Indeed.

“Cleared for launch,” the computer voice told him.

David eased the throttle, and the shuttle accelerated down the launch tube, a series of airlock doors opening and closing as they passed. The shuttle shot forward into space above the planet. If the thing had looked sick from the bridge of the Logos, from a shuttle it seemed positively putrid.

“Why would anyone want to live on that?” Phoebe asked.

“I doubt they do. Of course, some people probably ask the same thing about your world. Ekron, right?”

“Yup, yup. My own little shiny ball of ice.”

He smiled a bit. He’d spent a bit of time with Phoebe since coming on board, but maybe not as much as he should have. She was a senior officer, and a talented one. She was four years his junior, so they’d been at the Sentinel Academy together, but not for long, and he didn’t remember seeing her.

When he’d introduced himself on the Logos, though, she said she knew who he was. “Big shot senior and all,” she’d said.

“The captain sure seems eager to get whatever we’re here for,” she said. “Not that I need to know. I mean, clearly there would be no benefit to telling your partner the aim of the mission. Don’t worry, I’ve got a pulse pistol, an electrolaser, and eyes to die for. I’m prepared for a fight, a dance, or any combination thereof.”

Aye, she was right. “The Sefer Raziel. The captain thinks it’s on this planet, and that it will give the Empire the edge it needs against Asherah.”

Phoebe pursed her lips together. “Oooo. So is it?”

“Aye, maybe.” He piloted the shuttle into the atmosphere, the thick fumes making it almost impossible to get a visual. He could fly by instruments with the best of them, but he hated doing it.

“And here I thought you were just looking for a chance to ask me to dance.” She had this odd habit of staring right into your eyes when she talked. “Oh well. Captain has always had some serious rage leveled at Asherah.”

“Aye. He’s not the only one.”

“So your mother was captain of the Balthazar.”

Subtle. “Aye, lass.”

“Care to share your version? I was pretty young. Not that I ever played with dolls or anything. Icicles maybe, to stab my brothers. But not dolls.”

David had been young, too. Eleven. “The details are still classified. But I can say the Balthazar was the first ship to encounter a Leviathan. Asherah had just started pushing at its borders, and no one saw it coming after so long a period of isolation. Mum must have tried to communicate with them, but something went wrong. The Leviathan tore the Balthazar to pieces. Mum tried to escape and was driven into a black hole. Lost the whole ship, whole crew.”

“People blamed her.”

Aye. People always blamed her for the way things started back then. The tension, the shame. She should have fought harder, done more. That’s what Sentinel gossip said.

“Must have been tough, being a Sentinel with that hanging over you, huh?”

David scratched his head. “We all have our demons, lass.”

“Yup.”

He landed on the edge of the planet’s largest city. They didn’t really have any intel on where Rachel had gone. “This is going to take some digging.”

Phoebe pressed on her breather and hefted her pulse pistol. “I brought my shovel.”

David rose and opened the shuttle door.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

October 8th, 3096 EY

The Lazarus Group had some uncanny insight into Angel symbology. Even as an Angelologist, their research leaves me in awe. It is only a matter of time. I can almost taste the wonders of creation unfolding before me.

Rachel matched another of the symbols to the Lazarus Group’s notes. If this represented a galaxy, then … She cross-referenced her new findings.

“Knight …” Was it possible? Could this really be?

“Hmm.”

“I think I have it …” If that was really meant to be Gehenna … Rachel felt lightheaded, as if the Undercity spun around her. “I think I know where the Angels hid the Ark.”

“Swell.” He stood and stretched. “Can we call your QI friend and get the void out of here now?”

Swell? Angels above! This was the biggest discovery in the history of … ever. And all he had to say was swell? “Do you understand what this means, Knight?”

“It means you and I can finally get off this rock.”

True. There would be time for celebration later. “Yeah. We have to get to the moon. We need to get somewhere with Mazzaroth access and then—” Something was wrong. A jumble of emotions assaulted her. Hostility, roiling waves of it. So many minds, all bent on harm. A throbbing built behind her eyes. “Knight, they’re coming.”

“Shit.” He pulled his sword from his coat. “You remember the way back to the bazaar?”

She nodded. Probably. They’d gone there once to grab some food.

“Then go. I’ll be right behind you.”

Knight dashed through the doorway and was gone into the shadows. And then a shout rang through the tunnels, echoing.

Rachel ran. The floor was slick, the tunnels dark, but her eyes had adjusted days before. Gunfire rang down the hall. The muzzle flash of a MAG rifle illuminated a pair of soldiers across the way and the wall behind her exploded in a shower of rock and metal as slugs tore the tunnel to pieces.

She was screaming, she realized, as she threw herself onto the ground.

The other soldier tried to fire and his MAG exploded. The detonation nearly blinded her, and flung both soldiers into the mass of sewage. Angels above. Knight refused to use a MAG with good reason, it seemed.

Slick grime covered her palms as she pushed herself up. A mad scramble for the acid scrubbers. Beyond those the bazaar would offer some shelter.

A Gibborim stood in front of her, advancing with sword drawn. Rachel skittered to a stop a meter in front of the acid scrubber jet. Her throat was dry. She raised her trembling hands over her head in surrender.

The Sefer. These Gibborim worked for Jericho. She could not allow them to get the book. No matter what. If Jericho got the Ark, it could bring the Mizraim Empire to its knees.

The man in black advanced, eyes grim and—Rachel swore—glimmering in the darkness. “Hands behind your back.”

She did as she was told, turning around and stepping away from him.

Her mind tingled with his steady approach. Anger. Rage seeped off him like wisps of steam.

She had no choice. She had to get the Sefer off this planet. Everything depended on it.

The acid scrubber fired. The impact sent the man flying across the way. A heartrending shriek escaped him for an instant, then it became a bloody gurgle.

Rachel whimpered, covering her head with her hands. “I’m sorry.”

As soon as the jet died, she ran on, toward the bazaar. As she reached it her feet slipped out from under her. More soldiers filled the room, and one turned a MAG rifle on the crowd. He opened fire, a stream of magnetic slugs ripped people, shanties, and the tunnel itself to shreds.

Rachel landed hard on her back, her leg twisted up under her. With a groan, she turned, trying to head back into the tunnel. These people were being slaughtered, but she couldn’t do anything for them. Behind her, down the tunnel, a Gibborim woman stood in the darkness, mono sword in hand, Iota insignia.

No. Not now. Not after everything. She had it. She had it!

And then Knight appeared behind Iota. He fell to his knees and skidded on the ground. His sword cut right through her waist. A geyser of blood exploded from the sickening wound and Iota’s torso toppled away from her legs.

Bile scorched Rachel’s throat. Then she vomited.

By the time she looked up, Knight was on his feet and had disappeared behind some shanties. Next thing she knew he was flying over them, throwing knives soaring into the soldier shooting the crowd.

A knife caught the man in the neck, and he fell, spraying rounds in a wild arc.

One must have struck Knight, because he jerked in midair, spun at an unnatural angle, and landed crooked.

Rachel scrambled over to him. “Knight!” Shit, shit, shit! He couldn’t be dead. She would not lose him, not now. She’d gotten him into this mess.

He coughed, pushing himself up. “I’m okay. Nanomesh took it. Just run!” Thank God. Rachel grabbed him and yanked him to his feet.

Another Gibborim dropped from somewhere in the pipes above, this one marked with Kappa. She had a kyoketsu like Knight’s and whipped it in an arc. Knight shoved Rachel aside and bent back to dodge, whipping out his own kyoketsu.

The two engaged in an intricate dance, each barely evading the lightning-fast strikes of the other. Knight flipped through the air, butterfly-kicking over her low swing, and bringing his knife down on the head of a charging soldier.

Rachel dashed for a shanty and dove behind it. She glanced out, seeing Knight still engaged with the Gibborim. He couldn’t give her his full attention because more soldiers were pouring into the bazaar. Civilians had crowded in corners whimpering, crying.

Another Gibborim dropped down, flinging knives at Knight. He dodged each, but his opponents were nearly as fast as he was.

The soldier shooting the crowd had had a working MAG rifle. Rachel ran for the MAG and dove to the floor. She snatched the rifle and twisted around, opening fire on the soldiers filing into the bazaar.

A MAG round tore right through one soldier’s helmet. A half dozen rounds took another soldier in the chest. The Gehennan troops leapt for cover. Rachel followed suit, scurrying back behind the shanty.

It would never withstand a MAG round, but if they couldn’t see her, they couldn’t aim. She leaned out and a shot nearly took her head off. Her blood raged in her veins. Every nerve was on fire. She screamed, firing blindly in the direction the shots had come from.

“Rachel!” Knight shouted.

She eased off the trigger and peeked her head out. Knight had cut down one Gibborim. He’d pinned Kappa’s arm with one knee and her throat with another. “Run! That way!” He indicated away from where they had come, the other side of the bazaar, then retracted his whip-knife and slid the blade through his victim’s face.

Rachel grimaced and took off running. More shots rang out behind her. A lance impacted the wall beside her and stuck there. The shriek died in her throat and she dashed around the corner.

Angels, Angels! If they took the Sefer, sooner or later they’d crack it. God, maybe even letting her brother have it would have been better.

Heartbeats later, Knight was beside her, pulling her along. More soldiers appeared in front of them. Knight plowed into them before they even realized he was there. “Go! Out the hatch!”

Back to the streets?

But the Undercity was obviously not going to shelter them any longer. Rachel ran, twice losing her footing and colliding with the wall, once almost tumbling into the river of sewage.

Holy shit.

She ran until her heart felt like it would give out. And then she kept running.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

If Knight has not violated the First Commandment, I am left still considering the possibility, however remote, that his ancestors may have indeed been subjected to Angel experiments to create the legendary twelfth race, the Nephilim … Is it possible? Could they have truly tried to unlock the entirety of human potential in a single bloodline?

Caleb didn’t exactly enjoy reports. He liked people. Well, he liked women, anyway. Much, much more than he should. He glanced again at his wife’s picture, rather than focusing on Rebekah’s lips as she read to him about trade numbers throughout Andromeda. It was the largest galaxy in the Local Group, the heart of the Mizraim Empire, and the biggest chance at profit for any corporation—it boasted a hundred thousand inhabited worlds. So even though Caleb’s offices remained in the Milky Way, he had to listen to endless reports about Andromeda.

Rebekah Norris had the voice of a siren. Pure, silky, sensual. And she would be so nubile. He’d have her soon, he could see it in her eyes. The way they dilated when he looked at her like that. He could see the slight flaring of her nostrils. Eyes like his saw so much more than a normal person’s.

He shouldn’t feel guilty, right? Most people didn’t even believe in marriage these days. It was just the Third Commandment, that was all. Just the need to spread his DNA … No. His wife was a wonderful woman and he …

His screen flashed with an incoming call. Sarah Radison.

Caleb shut his eyes, trying to calm his mind. He swallowed hard. “That’s enough for now, Rebekah. I’ll call for you in a bit.” They had so many things to go over. Deeply …

He shook his head again, and his assistant left. “Receive call.”

Sarah’s face appeared, her eyes taut, her mouth stern. The woman should have learned to use her sensuality. Caleb found the bitter wretch routine even more annoying in women than men. Maybe because he was twice as likely to fire men for it, so he had to put up with it longer from women. “There are Sentinels on Gehenna!” she snapped.

Caleb nodded. That answered that. He’d known they would show up sooner or later, he was just hoping it would be later.

“You knew? Why wasn’t I told?”

“So you could do what, exactly, Sarah?” Caleb chewed his thumb. “Prepare for them? Offer them a welcome party? Focus on the goal.”

“I can do my job best when I have all the information.”

“I’ll decide what you need to know, my dear. Now be a good girl and get me my Sefer.”

Her face simmered with such rage Caleb could barely hide his smirk. It was far too easy to get under her skin, and her vitriolic nature almost demanded he do so at every opportunity. “And the Sentinels?” she growled through clenched teeth.

“Don’t shoot first.” Indeed, probably not a good idea to shoot at Sentinels at all. In fact, he was glad he wasn’t on that planet. Jericho Corp might be outside their jurisdiction, at least officially, but the bastards were volatile, pushy, and a little too damn good at their jobs. They were people who took themselves a bit too seriously. “But don’t let them stop you, either.”

“Brilliant, Caleb. I’m supposed to keep them out of the way without actually engaging them?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much. Can’t handle the job?”

Sarah looked away at something. “I can handle anything. My best agent is closing in on the traitor. We expect to have him dead, and the Jordan girl in custody, within the hour.”

Caleb grinned. Now that was what he liked to hear. “I knew I could count on you, my dear.” Of course, he’d had his doubts, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’ll be sending a ship to meet you. Be prepared to hand over both Jordan and the Sefer. No more surprises.”

“And if the Sentinels do interfere?” she said, then spread her hands.

“I guess you’ll find out just how effective your new and improved Gibborim are. If the Sentinels cannot be redirected without violence, then make sure no one lives to report back to the Empire. We don’t want any questions.”

Dead Sentinels would raise questions, but if it came to violence, that couldn’t be helped. And with the Sefer Raziel, the board would likely support him against the Empire.

“By the way, how are the reflex enhancers working?”

Sarah nodded. “I gave you a report.”

“I’m sure you did.” He chewed his thumb and waited for her to elaborate. If there was a report, Rebekah hadn’t gotten around to reading it to him yet. And he rarely bothered reading reports himself. Unless something was dire, or needed to be concealed even from her.

“Mixed results. All subjects exhibited increased reaction speed, but only a handful reached the potential we hoped for. It’s possible some subjects are simply more suited to the implants than others, but further tests and refinements will be needed to be sure.”

“Good. Good. Well then, carry on. Mazzaroth off.”

The screen cut out. Part of him wished he could see the trials live. But vid recordings of such experiments were moronic. Shame though, since the new Gibborim might put even Sentinels to shame when it came to hand-to-hand.

It would have been a pleasure to watch.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

And yet, preternatural reflexes aside, Knight matches none of the known reports of Angel capabilities. They were supposed to be masters of all four known psionic disciplines—empathy, telepathy, ESP, and even telekinesis, the rarest of psionic gifts. Yet Knight isn’t a Psych at all.

The hoverbike shot out of the alley, Rachel clinging to Knight’s waist. Sirens flared above them. Over the horizon, a hover carrier closed in, spotlights sweeping the streets.

Everything happened so fast she could barely think. It was like the Gehennans had thrown the entire military against her. And why not? Whoever had the Ark had the power to control the destiny of mankind, if stories could be believed.

Knowledge was power. And the Ark might offer absolute knowledge.

“Any brilliant ideas?” Knight shouted back at her, steering through another alley. He was probably trying to dart between buildings, spaces too narrow for carriers to follow.

From the moment they exited the Undercity, the government troops had been onto them. The hum of a half dozen hoverbikes echoed just meters behind them, and he was asking her for advice?

“You’re the bodyguard! Get us out of here!”

“Yeah, thanks! I got that part!” He jerked the bike right, zipping out into another street. Knight was good, she’d give him that. He bobbed around hovers, weaving in and out of fast-moving traffic.

Rachel spared a glance over her shoulder. Gibborim on hoverbikes darted into traffic too, at least five of them. “Knight!”

“I know.”

He adjusted some dial on the handlebar and the bike jumped upward, its hover jets going into overdrive. Knight used the added lift to angle them over a hover, sending them literally flying through the air.

Rachel’s stomach lurched. Hovering was one thing, but the jets on this bike weren’t designed for flying.

The bike dropped like a stone and actually collided with the street, streaking along it. The scraping shriek of metal made her head ring, and sparks flew all around her, before the hoverbike bounced back up to its usual altitude of about a meter off the ground.

The hover they’d jumped veered out of control, its driver blaring a siren at their insane maneuver. Knight darted the bike around another hover. He’d really lost his mind. But then, what else could he do?

A lance impacted a hover just behind them. The hover twisted, slammed into another, and both careened into a building. An explosion rocked behind them, but they were going so fast Rachel never even felt the heat.

A carrier crested the corner ahead. Shots retorted along the road, tearing it to pieces. Exploding asphalt and metal roared in a shower around her. Rachel screamed. A nearby hover was torn in half by MAG slugs. A wave of heat washed over her, almost threw her off the bike.

Knight spun it around, gunning right into the flow of oncoming traffic. Her scream was lost in her throat. Hovers zipped by so fast she couldn’t track them, and Knight somehow dodged the bike around them.

He pulled the mono sword from his coat.

“What the—”

One of the Gibborim bikes zoomed by and Knight cleaved through it. The top half flipped forward, spinning through the air and crashing into the road ahead. A cascade of explosions erupted behind them.

“Holy shit!” God, don’t let them die here. Please, God, please God!

Another Gibborim spun a hoverbike around, mimicking Knight, mono blade in hand. The Gibborim raced past, swinging. Knight parried the thrust and rammed his blade into the bike’s rear thruster. The other bike flipped vertically, slamming the Gibborim into the ground at hundreds of kilometers an hour. A hover crashed into the wreck. Even through her breather Rachel smelled fumes an instant before the pileup exploded.

Rachel whimpered, trying not to lose her grip on Knight. She considered herself a tough girl. But holy shit, Gibborim were having a sword fight on hover bikes traveling in opposite directions at two hundred kilometers an hour.

The street ahead exploded, MAG rounds from the carrier shredding it. Knight jerked to the right, shooting the bike through another alley. A heartbeat later another hoverbike was following them. Goddamn Gibborim just wouldn’t give up!

She tightened her grip around Knight and aimed the MAG rifle with one hand. He’d said not to use it outside, but desperate times …

Rachel squeezed the trigger. The rails charged and fired, but the shot went wide. Recoil stripped the gun right out of her hand. It clattered along the alley, under the Gibborim’s bike.

“Did you get him?” Knight shouted at her.

“No!”

Every second they spent doing this was a risk. Sooner or later one of those carriers would catch them and that would be the end, even if none of Knight’s former brethren caught up. She glanced back at the other hoverbike. Knight’s reflexes might have been faster, but the Gibborim had better bikes. They clearly accelerated more quickly.

They needed to get off the streets. “The Ark. We have to get to the moon!”

He grumbled something she couldn’t catch at this speed, then spun the bike around again, almost flinging her off.

“Stop doing—”

The bike took off again, barely careening around the one pursuing them. Knight headed back down a main street. In the air ahead, a carrier lowered, leveling a pair of MAG cannons at them. A spotlight tracked them.

Her bodyguard twisted the bike and they were behind a massive hover truck, hiding in its shadow. What was he thinking? A second later the carrier opened fire on the truck, ripping it in half. Knight veered into another alley, heading straight for a massive building ahead.

“Hold on to me!” he shouted.

Rachel tightened her grip. Knight steered toward the building’s airlock and gunned it. Angel wrath’s, was he going to ram the—

He flung a chain of some kind at a light post, and suddenly they were ripped off the bike. The sudden jerk sent them slicing through the air. Rachel screamed. Her stomach jumped into her throat. Momentum carried them around in an arc, and they were upside down. They spun down in a full three-sixty circle and crashed into the ground.

The impact stole her breath. All she could feel was blackness creeping around her. Then Knight was pulling her up. His coat was torn. He’d sheltered her with his arms. He ripped off his cracked helmet. “Move!”

The bike had collided with the airlock and blown a hole right through it. Knight shoved her toward it, and she stumbled forward, trying to catch her balance. The Gibborim raced past them, then spun his bike to a stop. This one, Nu, pulled a sword and hoped off the bike. Knight ran at him, whipping the kyoketsu out.

Nu dove to the ground and rolled under the whip knife’s blade. He came up swinging, his blade tearing a gash in Knight’s coat.

A wince escaped her even as she dashed into the burning airlock. “Knight!” Had that hit him? The sudden thought that he might really die protecting her left her dizzy. It’s why she hired him, but Knight always seemed so … invincible.

Knight evaded the next strike, stepping past it, then caught the man’s arm and flipped him around and onto the ground. He kicked Nu’s sword up into his hand, then rammed it into the fallen man’s chest.

More bikes spun around onto the street.

“Knight!”

He ran toward her and dove into the airlock.

“What is this place?” she asked, pulling him up.

“Government communications tower. There’ll be a shuttle pad on the roof.”

Dear God. This place had to be eighty stories tall. And it would be crawling with government troops.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

And yet, whatever secrets may lie in his blood, I find myself more worried for the man himself. My quest will likely cost him his life, and my own as well. And what will I have to show for it? If the Gehennans get the Sefer, Jericho will overthrow the Conglomerate and we risk giving rise to an autocracy to rival the Angels themselves. I should have left this all buried.

Another decapitated body fell before Knight, the tenth guard he’d killed since breaking into the tower. Rachel hesitated just behind him.

“Move, damn you!” He grabbed the girl and shoved her down the hall. He was not letting her die here, not now. Not after all this. If he thought for a second Sarah would let them go, he’d tell Rachel to give her the damn book. But the head of the Gibborim—Alpha herself—would torture Rachel to death and do worse to Knight.

Gunfire rang out beside them, and he followed Rachel around the corner. She’d run to a lift across the hall. “Knight! If we take this we could be trapped, but …”

But there was no way they could run up eighty flights of stairs. He slammed the buzzer and the doors opened. “It’ll take time for them to figure out where we are and what’s going on.”

He stepped in after Rachel. A lance impacted the doors just as they shut. Rachel hit the button for the roof. The lift shot upward, but they’d never make it to the top. It would take only seconds for security to stop the lifts.

Knight turned, glancing around. A service hatch in the ceiling. He cut it open, then jumped up to it, pulling himself on top of the lift.

“What are you doing?” Rachel demanded.

He leaned down and offered her a hand, pulling her up when she took it. A second later the lift jerked to a stop and he had to grab her to keep her from falling.

“They found us,” she said.

“Obviously.”

The lift ran on magnetic rails. They couldn’t restart it without power, but there was a service ladder on the wall, just out of reach. “Follow me,” he said, leaping to the ladder.

Rachel mumbled something, then did the same. For a second, he held her trembling body. She was scared shitless.

“Rachel. Rachel, look at me.” He pulled her chin around so he could look in her eyes. “Fear is the mind. Pain is in the mind. Don’t fear, don’t think. Just do it. I’m not going to let you die.”

Her breath came in gasps like she’d hyperventilate.

“Breathe, damn it!”

“Knight … Whatever happens, don’t let them get the Sefer.”

“Forget the damn—”

“Knight! You don’t understand what Jericho could do with this!”

Knight shook his head, then scrambled upward. They couldn’t pull this off for long, either—maybe eight or ten floors at the most. The key was to come out where no expected.

“Slow down, I can’t keep up,” she shouted from below.

“Trust me, just follow.” Another floor, then one more. He pulled a throwing knife from the sheath on his thigh, then waited for Rachel. When she drew close, he hit the emergency open on the lift outer doors. They slid open, revealing an empty hall. Knight jumped down into it.

Security would know where they were now. There would be troops in seconds. He dashed down the hall and around the corner. What was this, the sixtieth floor? Down the way another lift opened, revealing a clump of soldiers. One led the way out. Knight flung the knife into the man’s throat.

The soldier collapsed and another tripped over him. Knight leapt onto the wall, kicked off it, and pulled more knives in midair. He landed in a crouch, flinging four of them at the mass of soldiers trying to exit the narrow doorway.

The knives struck a few, and the confusion gave him time to close the distance. He kicked off a fallen soldier and forced his way into the lift. The soldiers tried to bring MAGs to bear, but in the narrow confines they were helpless. Too slow, too unprepared for an attack of this kind.

Knight kicked out, pinning a gun to the wall with his foot. He broke a wrist, slammed two heads together, jerked a man around and snapped his neck. A few seconds and Knight was the only one breathing in the lift. He paused just long enough to retrieve his knives and grab a shock grenade from one of the soldiers.

A sharp gasp escaped Rachel. These Mizraim types could be so soft sometimes. “Knight …”

“Go for the stairs, Rachel!” He shoved her and she ran for the stairway.

This lift might be active, but there was no repeating the trick. That was a sure way to get caught.

He dashed after her and onto the stairwell. A series of flights led round and round, each with a wide landing. The stairs would carry them all the way to the roof, he hoped. The girl ran, often taking steps two at a time, but she’d never maintain it for twenty floors.

Somewhere below, a door crashed open and shouts rang out. Knight glanced over the rail. Another squad, pursuing them up the stairs. Sooner or later, Rachel would tire, and they’d be caught.

“Knight,” she panted after a few more flights. “They’re planning an ambush ahead. I can feel it.”

Damn useful skill.

“Which floor?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

All right then. He flung open a door. “Go! Don’t wait for me, find a place to hide and make your way up when you can!”

“Knight!”

He pushed her. “I’ll make a distraction.” He was good at that.

He shut the door behind her and continued upward, slowing so the soldiers behind could catch up. When they were just a floor behind, he primed the shock grenade and rolled it down the stairs. Then he jumped onto the rail, kicked off, and leapt to the next. Electricity crackled somewhere below, and men screamed.

Knight sprang from rail to rail, clearing floors faster than he could on the stairs. For a heartbeat he might run along a rail, before leaping up to the next. All Gibborim had to master Parkour before graduating. In seconds he’d cleared six floors, something he couldn’t do with Rachel beside him. He’d come back for her when the roof was secure. Soldiers burst through the door to the floor above.

Knight caught the rail and swung under it, kicking a soldier in the chest, then jumping from him onto another. His momentum carried the next soldier down, and Knight rocked back, flinging the man over the rail. The bastard fell screaming into the darkness.

Shouts went up among the soldiers. Knight kipped up, kicked a man in the groin, then smashed his head on the door, cracking his skull even through the helmet.

With elbow, fist, and foot, he dropped the rest of the soldiers. No time to make sure they were all dead. He ran up the last few flights of stairs, then carved through the lock on the roof. He kicked it open and ran out.

Just ahead, a shuttle. He had to get Rachel and they’d be out of here. The moon wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but from the shuttle she could call that …

Something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and Knight turned.

Someone stepped out of the shadows, revealing the Omega sign on his Gibborim armor.

“Hadrian.”

His friend pulled off the helmet and tossed it aside. “There was really only one place you could be heading in this building, Zeke.”

Knight spread his hands and stepped back, falling into a light fighting stance. “Don’t do this.”

“I tried to warn you.” Hadrian raised armor-clad fists before him and strode toward Knight.

“You can come with us! Finally get out of all this.”

Sadness filled his eyes, but Hadrian shook his head. “You know I can’t … Can’t betray her.”

“Sarah? You’re still …” Knight grimaced. “She’s never going to be yours.”

Hadrian circled him, his stance easy despite his taut face. Knight couldn’t even remember a time when Hadrian hadn’t been there for him, teaching him all the ways of the Gibborim. Teaching him to become the perfect killer. Teaching him to become a ghost, a shadow that stalked the night and spread death and terror and pain. A shadow no one could catch, no one could stop.

“It shouldn’t come to this between us,” Knight said.

Hadrian shook his head. “No. It shouldn’t have. You got out, Zeke. You should never have taken this kind of risk. Sarah would have let you alone, if you hadn’t. How many of us have you killed now?”

He wasn’t even sure. The Gibborim had been his brethren, his family. His sick, twisted family that had turned on him. Of them all, only Hadrian had been a true friend. And how could Knight ever raise a blade in earnest against him?

Hadrian drew his mono katana, extending it. “I’m sorry, Zeke.”

But if he didn’t fight here, Sarah would take him, would take Rachel. And they’d both be damned. There was no choice. He’d never had enough choices in life. Why should now be different?

“So am I.” Knight pulled his own sword. “You know you can’t beat me, Omega. None of you are fast enough.”

Hadrian dashed at him, swinging. Knight parried, moved into riposte, then suddenly had to jerk back as Hadrian’s next swing came much faster than it should have. Knight parried, ducked, dodged, and rolled away.

What in the holy universe? Never, in all their years of training, had he seen another Gibborim move that fast.

“Things change,” his friend said.

Hadrian charged again, screaming and swinging. Knight parried again, turning into a faster riposte. He slashed open Hadrian’s side, cleaving through armor. His friend grunted and shoved, sending Knight stumbling backward. Hadrian’s offense had become more aggressive than ever, and Knight fell back, forced onto the defensive.

Parry, dodge, duck. He rolled under an attack, then parried over his head as another came in fast. He slammed his shoulder into Hadrian, sending the other man skidding along the roof.

Knight feinted with his katana, and when Hadrian moved to parry, kicked him in the chest. The Gibborim stumbled back, and Knight slammed his own sword into his friend’s, stripping it from his hand.

The blade clattered to the ground, and Knight kicked it away. He held his sword up, pointed at Hadrian’s chest. But how could he run him through? For a moment their eyes met.

Then a trio of angled blades erupted from each of Hadrian’s forearms, like he wore edged gauntlets. In his shock, Knight hesitated. Hadrian caught Knight’s sword between the blades and twisted, snapping it. Monofilament could cut through almost anything, but it didn’t make the blade stronger on the flat.

Hadrian’s palm struck Knight in the chest, sending him flying backward almost a meter. The nanomesh absorbed the worst of it, and Knight rolled up, jumping instantly to his feet.

“Angels above!” Knight said. “You’ve broken the First Commandment? You’re cybered!”

Hadrian advanced. A straight blade shot out from the joint of his wrist. A mono blade had rested inside his forearm, the size of a long knife. “It’s funny … First she said she had a way to make the rest of us as fast as you had been, Zeke.”

Knight found himself unable to swallow as he backed away. “How could you do this?”

“We’re Gibborim. We do as we’re told.”

But cybernetics? It was the first of the three rules mankind was never meant to break, never even question. Even Knight—who hated rules—wouldn’t have considered breaking it.

Shirin had broken it.

But it was different. Wasn’t it? She was Asheran.

“What have you let them make you?”

Hadrian glowered. “Stronger. Faster. Deadlier. Perfect.” He leapt forward, the jump carrying him too far, and thrust down.

Knight dove to the side and Hadrian’s blade pierced the roof. A spinning roundhouse caught Hadrian in the face and sent him flying through the air. He landed in a crouch, barely fazed, and launched himself at Knight.

Again and again Knight blocked blows that numbed his arms. Hadrian’s blade ripped right through his coat and tore open the flesh beneath. Nanomesh couldn’t stop a mono blade. Hadrian’s arm spikes sliced a gash on Knight’s face.

Blood dripped into his eyes and he allowed himself to fall, kicking out both legs. He caught Hadrian’s knees, tripping him. Knight rolled away, jerking his kyoketsu free and extending it.

Hadrian eyed the lethal chain.

“You’re not leaving me any choice!” Knight shouted. Please. Just let him back off.

“There are never choices,” Hadrian said, rising. He flung his hand toward Knight and a pair of knives flew forward.

Knight leapt, flipping sideways over them and swinging the kyoketsu. Hadrian ducked under it and drove forward, trying to impale Knight.

Instead, Knight turned, kicking Hadrian in the back of the knee and shoving him forward. Hadrian stumbled toward the edge of the roof. Knight whipped the kyoketsu down at his friend, slashing across his face.

Hadrian screamed as the mono edge tore through one of his eyes. There was no choice. No pain. No fear. No hesitation.

Knight continued his spin, leaping and whipping the kyoketsu down in an arc. Hadrian raised his arm to block on instinct. The kyoketsu carved right through arm and into his throat. Hadrian fell, stumbling backward over the rail, and tumbled off the building.

His friend’s weight yanked the kyoketsu right out of Knight’s hand, and he let it fall. Everything fell with it, and Knight dropped to his knees, panting.

His hands shook and he clawed fruitlessly at the ground. He screamed, roared at the dying sun above.

All he had known had fallen.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

It’s impossible to say if any Race of Man is truly without a history of genetic engineering. All we know about our past following the Exodus, at least in the first years, is what the Angels told us. Still, one of the Races, those without overt signs of genetic tampering, has always been called Norms—as if the rest of us were abnormal. They say Norms represent the first race, and yet, they are not terribly common.

David burst through the door to the roof as one man drove another off the building. The chaos in the streets, the hundreds of dead, had made tracking Rachel here easy. She’d left a wake of destruction beyond even what he’d expected.

And that was the man he’d seen with Rachel, a Gehennan, most likely. He knelt near the lip of the roof, screaming incomprehensibly. A rage, so intense even David’s psionic nerves felt it, seeped off. It was matched only by the man’s despair. And where was Rachel? Had this bugger lost her? If so, he’d soon learn what real pain was.

“Take him alive,” he said to Phoebe.

They needed to find out what he knew if they were going to locate Rachel. Given all the activity, she had to be nearby. The lass seemed to have gotten the entire damn planet riled up against her. She was like that sometimes.

Phoebe drew her pulse pistol and advanced on the blond man, who rose from his knees and turned to them. She pointed the pistol at him, and he stared her down.

“Hands behind your back and turn around,” she said, her voice slightly distorted by her breather.

“How about you turn around and bend over.”

David shook his head. Wrong line. Phoebe would rip him a new arse for that. She backhanded him. Or tried. He caught her wrist and spun, flipping her around and twisting the pulse pistol loose. He kicked her, sending her tumbling over the edge of the building.

“Phoebe!”

David ran at her attacker. He was cut up, bleeding from dozens of scrapes. David spared a glance at Phoebe, who had caught herself on the lip of the building.

In that instant, the blond man was on him. David blocked the man’s attack, trying to turn each against his foe. The Sentinel Merkabah style was feared throughout the universe for its efficiency. Three times he countered, but the Gehennan was so fast it allowed him to overcome every slight flaw in his defenses.

And then his foe had an arm around David’s neck and hurled him to the ground. A throwing knife spun at his face and David barely got his arm up to block it. It clattered off his suit.

The man started to move in on him, then leapt to the side and attacked Phoebe. She must have recovered and tried to pull the electrolaser. Rachel’s friend kicked it out of her hand.

She blocked his attacks, her form near perfect, but looking as overwhelmed by the man’s sheer speed as David had been. David rolled up and drew his pulse pistol. He needed this guy alive, but there was a limit to how far he’d risk his crew.

The man caught Phoebe’s arm and spun her through the air, flinging her at David. He stepped aside to avoid her, and the Gehennan slammed into his chest, catching his wrist and spinning him around. In the tumult, David’s finger pressed the trigger. Plasma pulses shot off in rapid succession, blasting into the nearby shuttle, scoring the hull.

The Gehennan stripped the gun from his hand, but David caught him with a tight hook in the ribs, making the man drop it, too. His uppercut came up fast and should have floored the bloody bugger, but the man bent back at an impossible angle and kicked out one of David’s legs.

Phoebe rushed him, launching a barrage of blows, turning and countering his responses. Then she reeled back when his knuckles cracked over her jaw with a sound that made David wince.

He roared, rising and charging the man. The Gehennan met David with both palms forward, shoving him back.

Stay calm. The man’s defenses had weaknesses. He was fast as the void, but his training was not perfect. David took two steps back, feinting one way and another, drawing the Gehennan toward him. The man dropped for a spinning sweep, and David leapt up to kick him in the face.

And then the Gehennan twisted to the side so fast David didn’t even see it. The man was up behind him, and a fist repeatedly slammed into David’s kidney. His suit absorbed enough of the blows to keep him from buckling. He jerked his elbow back, catching the man in the chest.

He stumbled back a step, then rushed forward.

A blast of lightning struck him in midair, hurling him into the shuttle. He bounced on impact, and landed hard.

Phoebe knelt a few feet away, electrolaser clutched in her hands, blood streaming down her split lip.

The man struggled to rise. David had to hand it to him. That shot should have downed just about anyone. An electrolaser didn’t usually kill, but against an unshielded target it delivered a large enough charge to leave a man twitching on the ground.

The pain should have floored the blond man.

As David advanced the Gehennan tried to fling a throwing knife at his head. David knocked it aside with his armor, then slammed his fist into the man’s face. The Gehennan fell, and David kicked him to make sure he stayed down.

Phoebe stumbled over beside him. “Did that guy just take on two Sentinels?” Her mouth sounded thick, and worn. Blood spilled out when she spoke.

“Aye, damn near took down two of us, I’d say.” And after fighting someone else, it appeared. Whoever this guy was, there was something unnatural about him. No one reacted that quickly, not even with Sentinel training. And he’d been good, too. If his training had been on the same level as David’s, maybe they’d be the ones lying unconscious on the roof. Or worse.

“Restrain him. And check him for cybers. He’s too damn fast.” He glanced at her. “On second thought, inject yourself with nanobots to work on that jaw. I’ll restrain him.”

He clasped magnetic cuffs around the man’s hands, pinning them behind his back. A quick scan of the Gehennan revealed no cybernetics. No breather, so he must have been a Smogger.

He yanked the man up and threw him over his shoulder.

“You got a sedative on you?” he asked.

Phoebe nodded, working her jaw.

“Give it to him. Don’t want this bugger waking up until he’s secured in the brig.”

She did, injecting the man. That would keep anyone out cold.

Now he just had to find Rachel.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Most of the rest of the universe fears Sentinels. Of course, citizens of Mizraim depend on them a great deal, as protectors and keepers of order, but the Sentinels are more than that. Mankind was driven to the brink of extinction, and after the Angels saved us, a few became dedicated to ensuring no alien force could ever threaten our survival again. They became the first Sentinels, a force later co-opted by the Shekhinah.

The storeroom had no security camera, so Rachel was probably safe there for a moment. But only a moment. Security was everywhere in here, and the government must have sent damn near every Gibborim on the planet after them. How many could Knight really fight?

A lump built in her throat. Somewhere along the line, the thought of him being killed had become sickening. Part of her couldn’t stand him—his arrogance, his feigned indifference. And yet, he was there, protecting her. Maybe dying for her. And whatever he claimed, deep down she knew there was a real man under that armor.

And he’d been gone too long. Far, far too long. She cracked open the door, peering out. Another squad of soldiers rushed by, holding those vicious lancerods. The moment they passed around the corner she ran out.

Knight must have gone to the roof to secure it. She had to get up there and find him. She flung open the door to the stairwell and ran out into it. A shout went up from a few floors down.

A squad of soldiers pointed up at her and started running. Damn. Today sucked.

She dashed up the stairs, taking them two, sometimes three at a time. She had several floors’ head start on her pursuers. Enough to get to the roof. Her breath came in gasps. She needed rest or she’d pass out. But there was no rest.

A grunt echoed from below, then she spotted one of the Gibborim jumping from rail to rail. In seconds he landed ahead of her and pulled a mono sword.

Rachel threw herself forward in a roll, coming up past him and making a mad scramble for the door. She ducked as she ran and a throwing knife whizzed past her ear.

The door flew open and a cold-worlder in a Sentinel uniform stepped through. Rachel stumbled to a stop and fell on her ass. She rolled away, then under the guardrail and fell down to the next level.

She tried to catch herself, but hit the rail too hard. A sting ran through her hands and she fell, barely grabbing the ledge with one hand. Her arm was going to rip out of its socket. God! She swung, tried to bring her other hand up, and missed it.

“Rachel!”

That was David’s voice. What was he doing here?

She tried to look up at him, and her hand slipped. She screamed and fell, then caught the next rail. It slapped her arms, felt like a break, but she couldn’t let go. More than seventy stories down from here. The thought made her clench her eyes shut. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

She had to pull herself under the rail.

“Rachel, we’ve got your friend,” David shouted from above.

Knight? He had Knight? It was almost hard to believe even David could pull that off. On the other hand, they said Sentinels had the finest combat training in the universe.

Hands roughly grabbed her and pulled her up. A Gehennan soldier flung her against the wall, and she stumbled down.

“Secure the bitch,” one said.

A sizzle from above, then a torrent of plasma pulses ripped into two of the soldiers. Flung them into the wall above her, and burned right through their armor and skin. The acrid stink of singed flesh reached her and she almost vomited.

No time. She shoved a Gehennan returning fire at the Sentinels, and he tumbled over the rail. “The bitch is secure!” she shouted after him.

She paused to grab a fallen soldier’s MAG, then raced toward the stairs. She had to get to Knight. She couldn’t leave him on this planet. And David was certainly better than the Gehennans.

A Gibborim leapt over the rail in front of her, this one marked Beta. Son of a … Rachel spun on her heel. A moment later, David leapt down the flight of stairs and landed in front of the Gibborim. The assassin rushed David, weaving a sword in and out of an intricate dance.

David fired his pulse pistol and at least a dozen rounds slammed into the charging man, hurling him away. Apparently the atmosphere didn’t interfere with the electromagnetic rails in those guns. Rachel scowled. Shame civilians weren’t allowed to buy pulse pistols. QI had an exclusive contract with the Sentinels for the technology.

“Mac?” He was here. Why was he here? She resisted the sudden urge to embrace him, unsure if it had come from his emotions or her own. How had he found her?

“Come with me.”

“What in the holy universe are you doing here? What, did you come for the tablet yourself? Seriously? I thought I could count on you, Mac! You would barely help me before, and instead you’ve come here to steal my treasure for—”

“Your treasure? What happened to it belonging to humanity?”

The other Sentinel hurried down the stairs, carrying Knight over her shoulder. “Not that I mind lugging a heavy … lug around,” she said, “but do you think we could get on with it? I have an appointment.”

“Phoebe’s right, Rach.” David grabbed Rachel and pulled her close, then lifted her in his arms. “Hold on tight, lass.”

What choice did she have? Her heart raced, and she felt herself flushed. Being in his arms again left her woozy and more comfortable than she’d like.

David climbed the rail and jumped. Rachel murmured, clutching his chest, as wind ripped past her and they fell so fast she couldn’t make anything out. Then David shifted her and pressed something on his forearm. Their descent suddenly slowed as a grav-net formed around them. He landed hard in a crouch, and rose almost immediately, barely slowed by the seventy-story fall.

David deposited her on her feet, and Rachel rushed out the doorway. A moment later, the cold-worlder landed where Rachel and David had just stood.

“Oomph,” she said. “You got the way better passenger.”

“Aye,” David said, and pushed Rachel back behind him. “We’ve got a ways to go to reach the shuttle, lass. Stay close.”

She had no choice. At this point, any chance to get off Gehenna was worth it. But she had no intention of giving the Sentinels her work, either.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The Sentinels became the most feared fighting force in the history of man. Their training, mindset, and technology set them light years above any opposition. In modern times, Asherah may pose a technological threat to Mizraim, but the Sentinels retain finer training, discipline, and likely psionics.

David was glad to be back on the Logos. His Smogger lungs let him breathe on Gehenna, but it still stank. The chase from the city had been a bit more intense than he’d like, and they’d had to call in support from the Logos. After a couple of drones had shot down a hover cruiser, the Gehennans had changed their minds about pursuing them.

Waller had been all too pleased to get the Sefer. He’d ordered Rachel and Knight held in separate cells in the brig, and had secluded himself in his quarters to pore over the Sefer. It was only moments before he’d summoned David in.

“It’s in code, McGregor.”

“Sir?”

“The Sefer—I can’t read it. Even the computer isn’t sure how to crack this, and I don’t dare feed it into the Mazzaroth.”

No. The Mazzaroth was a quantum computer, it could undoubtedly crack any code. But then, that information would be out there in the ether, for anyone who knew where to look.

“Your friend must know how to read the damn thing,” the captain snapped. “Find out. This book is the key to saving the empire. They passed me over for promotion, McGregor. Thought I hadn’t done enough for Mizraim lately? Now we will. Get that information, or I will.”

David saluted, restraining the urge to sigh. This was turning into a very long day. What he wouldn’t give for a nice hot soak in a New Rome bathhouse. Instead, he found himself taking the lift down to the brig.

The Logos brig supported twenty cells on two different levels, each cell visible through a wall of half-meter thick glass. Few prisoners occupied these cells now. Rachel, her friend Knight, and a couple of smugglers they’d caught a while back and not had time to transfer.

Rachel sat on the cot. The smart glass could become one-way so prisoners couldn’t see out, but that was usually reserved as a punishment. David watched her, and she stared at him blankly. Her expression was painfully empty, as if she didn’t even know him.

And why not? He’d come here and crushed her dreams.

He entered his access code into the panel, and a section of the glass slid into the floor. When the door was closed, the seam was so small you couldn’t even feel it by running your finger over it.

“Rach.” God, part of him had always known she’d wind up in a situation like this. Locked away because she just would not conform. People feared that, and they’d do anything to keep things the way they knew them. Even lock away a lass whose only crime was seeing the universe differently.

“Mac … How could you even do this? To me? Oh, I know damn well how you did it! Just following orders, sir.” She offered a mock salute. “Sir, yes sir. Betray my lover? Yes sir, would you like your shoes shined, too?”

He sat down beside her on the cot. “Lover? Are we still?” God, wouldn’t that have been the best. He sighed. “Look, lass. I know you want to change the universe, but our job is bigger than that. We’ve got to protect the universe. You can’t make things better unless we keep them from falling apart in the first place.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? You’re just protecting humanity?”

Aye. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Fine. Keep it up.”

Och. “You think you’ve got all the bloody answers, don’t you?”

She spun on him then. “No! But at least I’m willing to ask the questions. Not just take the status quo for granted.”

“You want questions? Then how about this one. What does the Sefer say, Rach? Where is the Ark?”

She snorted. “Like I’m going to tell you people that, Mac. Go space yourself.”

He winced. He knew she didn’t mean it, but even he could feel the rage seeping off her—made all the worse because she knew how powerless she was.

“Look, Rach. It’s for your own good, too. If you don’t cooperate, they’ll never let you go. You’re a Mizraim citizen. Tell us what we want to know, and you can go back to your life. Maybe we could even help get your job back at NRU. Anything’s possible.”

She turned away and stared at the empty wall.

A sudden chill rushed through him, a wave of wrath and disdain so profound it left him wobbly. Had she just projected that emotion into him?

“Bloody void! You can’t even set aside your pride for your own wellbeing, can you?” He stormed out of the cell and slapped the buzzer to reactive the glass. Let her stew in there, then. Much as he wanted to help her, if she wouldn’t cooperate, what could he do?

He stepped out of her line of sight and swore under his breath. If she wouldn’t help, maybe that friend of hers would. The ride back to the Logos had given him enough time to study up on Knight a little bit. Information was limited, but if you knew where to dig, there was some.

He paused outside Knight’s cell. The man sat cross-legged beside his cot, staring straight out. He cocked his head to the side when David approached. Since there was no way he was stepping in there for a face-to-face, David only switched the intercom.

“I’ve had time to do some reading, lately,” he said.

“Not really interested in your hobbies.”

He ignored Knight and hefted the tablet with Knight’s file displayed on it. “Ezekiel Knight, son of Gideon and Shahana Knight, both deceased. Raised as a ward of the state. The state of Gehenna. That must have been a charming childhood.”

“Come in here and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Not likely. David almost wanted a rematch. Almost. But the man wasn’t interested in sparring. The Gehennan would clearly kill him, given the chance.

“You’re the one who broke Rachel’s heart, huh?”

What? Bloody void, he was interested in her. He’d known it the moment he saw the bugger on the Mazzaroth. David stilled his jaw, barely able to restrain his retort. Instead, he focused on the tablet. “Inducted into Gibborim training at a young age. Raised to be a killer among killers, with no hint of regular schooling or social interactions.”

Knight glared at him.

David shrugged. He supposed the background explained what an arse the man was. “And then, three years ago, discharged from the Gibborim without any explanation. All records of the event are sealed. Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

Fine. “So the ex-assassin turns mercenary, takes a number of dangerous jobs, leaving bodies in his wake. And somehow ends up working for Rachel Jordan, Angelologist. How did you find her?”

“She was a delight.”

Son of a bitch. David slapped the glass before he realized what he was doing.

Knight smirked. “Warm and soft, in all the right places. The way she cooed when she was just on the edge of—”

“Shut the fuck up, you blundering arse muncher!” David slapped the glass again.

Knight’s smirk deepened and he shut his eyes.

God, he was playing him. The little prick knew exactly what buttons to push. He was trying to get David to open the glass.

Instead, David dropped his hands to his side and stood stock still for several heartbeats. Concentrate on the now. “Look. You’ve got no rights, you know that, lad? You’re not a citizen, and we don’t answer to your government. And even if we did, they seem to want to kill you. So either you’re going to cooperate with us, or you’re going to wind up hating life in short order. Follow me?”

The man offered no response, didn’t even open his eyes.

“Tell me what the Sefer says, and maybe we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“I didn’t translate it.”

David shook his head. Fine.

He’d tried.

He made a special effort not to look at Rachel on his way out. But then, he just couldn’t help himself. She was still staring at the wall.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

And people believed in the Sentinels, much as they feared them. With the Vanishing, the Mizraim Empire rose and tried to reunite mankind. We believed they might succeed. We believed mankind might know peace. We forgot destruction is part of what allowed us to reach so far.

The chair’s magnetic restraints dug into Rachel’s wrists and ankles. The Sentinel captain had probably over-tightened them on purpose. Jonathan Waller had a reputation for going to extraordinary lengths to protect his Empire. Rachel had done some digging into the man when David was assigned to his ship.

Enough to know the Anakim pacing before her was not someone who would give up easily. He scrubbed his beard, watching her from the corner of his eye each time he passed. Sentinels had dragged her into this circular interrogation chamber almost two hours ago, leaving her alone here as if it might intimidate her. When Waller finally showed up twenty minutes back, he said nothing, just watched her.

Waller scratched his beard again and rounded on her. “Well, Jordan, I have a problem.”

“Try shaving it off. Lice were a problem on Gehenna, too.”

For a moment he sneered, leaned back as if shocked anyone could speak to him so. Then he stepped closer, seeming to dismiss her barb entirely. “I am a Sentinel captain, Jordan. I am charged with safeguarding the glorious Mizraim Empire against all threats, within and without. Anyone who stands in the way of that becomes a threat herself. I hope you follow me.”

Rachel sighed and looked away. If she wasn’t willing to tell David about the Ark, she sure as void wouldn’t talk to Waller.

For a moment, Waller stood there, still as a statue. When he spoke, his voice carried no emotion. “As you wish, Jordan. But understand, you will tell me what I want to know.” He tapped a comm on his forearm. “Suzuki.”

A moment later the door opened. A woman came in and looked Rachel in the eyes. Regret, sadness flowed off her. And resignation. She injected something into Rachel’s neck, and almost immediately the room dimmed, everything becoming blurry. What was happening? What had he done to her?

Drugs … Sentinels weren’t supposed to drug citizens. She had rights … She had …

The woman left, and Waller ordered the lights dimmed. Only then did Rachel realize the entire wall of the chamber was a giant screen. It illuminated, displaying star clusters that might have been the Triangulum galaxy.

“This is Asherah,” Waller said, and the screen zoomed in on a world with a purple atmosphere, charged with electrical storms. Waller’s voice was distorted, deep and resonating through her entire body. The drugs had affected her mind.

Angels above, he was going to indoctrinate her. Sentinels did that? She thought only Redeemers stooped to mind control. She clenched her eyes, trying to hum a nursery rhyme through her mind. Anything to drown out his voice.

Cold metal clamped over her eyes, and they were forced open. The chair spun, turning her to face Asherah as the camera zoomed in deeper and deeper, revealing a putrid city. Men and women, if you could call them that, walked there. Some had mechanical arms, legs, faces. Cords and wires and metal and horror. The absolute mergence of man and machine. Cyborgs.

The worst of all khapiru.

The word screamed in her brain over and over.

They violate the First Commandment.

The camera zoomed in more and more, showing a glowing red cyber eye on a man. The man’s face turned into that of a demon.

These weren’t her thoughts. He was using subliminal messages to interact with the drugs. Rachel jerked in her chair. No.

“No!” The magnetic restraints gave no space to move, but she banged her head back against the chair. “No!” Not like this. She would not lose herself. She would not let them take her mind.

No! Father had threatened … They washed the sins of those they judged. They washed away their minds, all they were, left them little better than drones. Ideas, free thinking, were dangerous.

“Mankind’s duty is clear,” her father’s voice said. “We are meant to follow the doctrines laid out by the Angels.”

Needles rummaged in her mind.

Asherah is the enemy. Only the Sentinels can protect mankind.

Rachel screamed. The entire room swam around her.

God help her. She dove deep into her own mind, trying to sing to herself. What was that song she’d heard a few weeks ago on the Mazzaroth? About searching the stars for love and … Trust the Sentinels.

“Cooperation is salvation,” her father said.

Waller’s face suddenly swam into focus. “Cooperation is your only hope,” he said.

He leaned so close his breath fell on her face. His eyes bored into her. They delved deeper and deeper, scouring her very soul. She was falling, a well of nightmares eating the edges of her being as he dove into her. His presence was a hot lance through her consciousness, digging into her mind.

A telepath.

Get out of my head. She raged at him. Sent waves of hatred and grief and loathing. She would not allow this. Never this. He pried through her memories, drudging up her childhood. It ran through her mind’s eye, the day she walked out on her family, turned her back on the tradition of the Redeemers and earned her father’s eternal scorn.

“You are no daughter of mine!” he shouted after her. “You sin! Khapiru!”

Her own father had called her outcast.

Earlier, earlier. She was twelve when her father beat her with a stun baton for questioning his lectures. For daring to even raise a doubt against traditions set in place millennia before. For two hours she’d laid writhing on the floor, sobbing, whimpering apologies, even when the only one there to listen was her cat, Clarity. Her father had given the animal away the next day.

No!

“Give it all to me, or I will take it!”

“No!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

“Where is the Ark?” Where is the Ark? Where is the Ark? What does the Sefer Raziel say? Cooperate. Cooperate. Cooperate.

She focused on a memory of the starfields of the Omega Nebula. Beauty in a million colors, the wealth of the universe.

The work of God and his Angels.
Help me continue their work.

Rachel grit her teeth, throwing out more memories of beauty and peace and love and songs and hopes and anything else she could find. Waller ripped through them like a man carving out a rainforest with a heavy blade.

Warm wetness dribbled down her cheeks and over her lips. Her ears and nose were bleeding. Her brain was … He was slicing through her mind. Only a whimper escaped.

Please God, no more.

CHAPTER FORTY

And so the Sentinels spread the near-absolute order of Mizraim across the Local Group until a confrontation with Asherah was inevitable. Following the disastrous Asheran War, the Asheran Confederacy went into a period of isolation that led to nearly forty years of relative peace with Mizraim. And given the price of the last war, the Sanhedrin were more than willing to allow Asherah to control Triangulum and a handful of lesser galaxies. Of course, the Redeemers always saw concessions to those they called khapiru as weakness.

The bridge was too hot. Of course, temperature controls regulated it, same as always, but today David sweated, trembling as he supported himself over a computer console. The Gehennan government had sent a second protest over their presence. Since Waller had ignored the first, David didn’t bother relaying the second.

He’d looked into the eyes of dying men, men he’d killed, and seen less rage than what had hidden in Rachel’s gaze. There was no wound so deep as the sting of betrayal. To give trust and have it cast aside.

“The ones who should have loved me best turned on me,” she’d said of her family.

David couldn’t imagine the strength it must have taken for a sixteen-year-old girl to walk out on all she knew. To make her own future in a place like New Rome, a place where everything depended on wealth and status. Her family name may have helped, but she’d gotten into NRU on her own intelligence, drive, and refusal to submit to anyone.

A hand brushed his shoulder, and he turned. Leah snatched her webbed fingers away the moment he looked at them. “He’s with her now.”

David nodded. God, she should have just cooperated. Now Waller would hammer away at her for hours, days if he had to. The endless barrage of questions, sleep deprivation.

“He had me give her Stigmata.”

David turned around and looked straight into Leah’s eyes. Angels above, she was serious. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the bridge and into the hall. “Stigmata? He’s really going to …”

“He’s torturing her,” Leah said. “Delving her mind. He’s determined to get what she knows, whether she wants to give it up or not.”

Delving. That was the technical term for it. But most people just called it what it was—mind rape. If she fought hard enough it would shatter her psyche. The Stigmata made the effects that much worse, that much harder to fight. Part truth serum, part hallucinogen, the drug wasn’t normally used on Mizraim citizens, except in extreme cases.

For a second, lightheadedness took him, and he had to balance against the corridor. Not Rachel. No one deserved this. No one. And Rachel was … His. Rachel was his. And he would not allow anyone to harm her. The dizziness gave way, and he knew what he had to do.

He spun and almost ran to the lift, dimly aware of Leah chasing after him. He hit the buzzer to go to deck five, where the interrogation room was located. The lift felt like it travelled in slow motion.

Rachel was in there. Suffering because he had failed her. Because he’d failed to stand up to Waller when the captain demanded the Sefer.

The second it opened, David ran down the hall, increasing to a dead sprint after a few paces.

Rachel.

God help him.

He slapped the buzzer to open the interrogation room. Inside, the lights were dim and Waller was staring into Rachel’s eyes. Blood trickled out of her nose and ears and lips, from where she’d bit through them.

A barely restrained curse died on his lips. “Captain.”

Waller spun away from Rachel with a glare, then stepped out to meet David. The doors closed, cutting off David’s view of the poor lass.

“McGregor, this better be important.”

Aye. Damn important. “This isn’t right, Captain. She’s a citizen. Using the Stigmata on her, this is torture.”

“Withholding information crucial to the survival of our civilization is the same as aiding the enemy, McGregor.” Waller shook a finger at him. “It’s treason.”

That was insane. Treason? Rachel? Aye, she was stubborn, difficult, and argumentative … but not a traitor. Never. “Sir. We’re better than this. We cannot stoop to—”

“To what, McGregor? I’m going to take whatever steps are needed to protect my people! And I strongly suggest you decide where your loyalty lies!”

“My loyalty? How can you doubt my loyalty for even a second, sir?” David’s fists balled at his side. “I have given myself entirely to the Sentinels from the day—”

“Then act like it, soldier. Dismissed.”

David ground his teeth, offered a terse salute, and spun, nearly running into Leah.

“David …” she said.

He stormed past her and back to his quarters. He was in no mood to talk to anyone, even her, and she’d be better off not testing the waters at the moment. Thundering shite! How dare Waller question his loyalty? In his entire life he’d never wavered from duty, from dedication. His every breath he gave for the people of Mizraim. And Waller would doubt it because David didn’t believe in torturing their own citizens?

In hurting Rachel.

He slunk into his quarters and leaned against the wall, lightly pounding his head on it. He’d betrayed Rachel’s trust for duty to his uniform. David strode over to the washroom to look at the damn thing in the mirror.

Unrelieved black on black—a form-fitting suit that accentuated human muscles, protected him from most weapons and extreme environments, and adapted to sheath his sidearm. But it was what it represented that mattered. Over his heart, the suit had adapted to display his rank. Five small triangles, over the single great triangle of the Sentinels. Honor, duty, justice.

And for this, he’d betrayed the woman he loved. For this, she was being tortured, her mind, her essence eroded away by a man he’d once respected. A man who had let fear of the enemy or his own frustration at being overlooked time and again by the Sanhedrin cloud his judgment.

Rachel was no traitor. David was the one who had betrayed her. Was she loyal to Mizraim? Probably. But more than that, she was loyal to the entire human race. She was trying to do what she felt was right for the good of the species. Aye, maybe she was a bit misguided …

The uniforms were black because space was black, and that was their arena. They traveled in the darkness to protect the light. That’s what it meant to be a Sentinel. But today, the blackness seemed full not of pride and courage, but something else. And he couldn’t stand to look at it.

David spun away, left the washroom, then paused. The Codex was lying on the floor where he’d thrown it. God forgive him, what blasphemy. Maybe all this was punishment for his doubts and sins. But even so, he had to follow his conscience.

He picked the book up gingerly and set it down on his dresser.

This was wrong.

Phoebe was off duty at this hour. She’d be in her quarters. And David was going to need someone he could trust.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Given seemingly insurmountable ideological differences between Mizraim and Asherah, another war may be inevitable. And whichever side holds the Ark would surely win such a confrontation. Perhaps that was why Waller was willing to break the very laws he stood for to try to force my aid.

Funny, in all his time imagining the fabled halls of Mizraim, Knight had never really expected them to look like this. A cool metal cell, an impenetrable glass barrier. A couple of brief tries to crack it had proved fruitless, so he sat, legs crossed, waiting.

Locked away in a small room, awaiting his next trial. Just like always. The rooms in Gehenna were not so different. No glass walls to look out in the hall, of course, but a small square of metal with nothing but a cot. Knight had spent far too much time in those rooms, and never thought to return. When you became full Gibborim they finally let you out into the world, gave you all the wealth you needed. You could have anything or anyone on Gehenna you wanted—at the cost of your soul. And it was a price he’d paid so many times.

A thousand times, it seemed, he’d killed men and women, anyone who got in Sarah’s way. Anyone the government wanted to silence. Once, Sarah had sent him to beat a man in front his wife, then rape her. He couldn’t bring himself to do the latter, so he’d beaten her too, and told her to act like he’d done worse, or someone else would.

And in the end, her weeping husband had thanked him. Thanked him for breaking his arm and at least two ribs. Thanked him for giving his wife a black eye.

Thanked him because, when the Gibborim came for you, you knew death stared into your soul. Knight had made himself the angel of death, and he had been so good at it even Sarah sometimes seemed afraid of him.

And in the end, he’d killed the one friend he’d ever had in there. Hadrian had kept him sane, had helped him hold onto the last shreds of his soul, despite the people who had raised them both. And now his friend was dead, cut down by Knight’s own hand. One more piece of himself, carved away by the realities of a universe that cared nothing for him or anyone else.

Hadrian had tried to warn him. He’d told Knight not to interfere, but Knight hadn’t been able to let go. Had pride led him here? He’d had the money to get off Gehenna from the day Rachel first paid him. He couldn’t have made it to New Rome, but did that matter? After spending a lifetime on Gehenna, had some part of him demanded paradise as recompense?

A man who murdered his only friend deserved no paradise. Of course he’d never reach New Rome. Why should he? In his whole life, he’d done nothing but murder and steal and betray, first in the name of a corrupt government, then for his own self-interest.

Until at last he could sink no lower, and he had murdered and betrayed the one person who had ever cared about him. The big brother he should have had. Finally leaving him bereft of any meaning to his violent, pathetic existence.

And sooner or later, the Sentinels would let him out of here. And maybe he’d kill them, too.

The white-skinned Sentinel strode down the hall, then stopped in front of his cell, staring him right in the eyes. Bold, without a hint of fear, though he’d nearly thrown her to the same end as Hadrian. That almost colorless skin and hair—now dyed pink—she was an Icie, wasn’t she?

Knight rose and walked to the edge of the glass. The Icie flipped on the intercom.

“Ezekiel Knight.”

“Just Knight.”

“You’re a fast guy, Knight. We did some scans while you were out. Not cybered, not genetically engineered yourself—though your ancestors probably were.”

He shrugged. “You’re one to talk, Icie.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You backworlders do know that’s offensive, right?”

Should he care? He was a monster. He was Gibborim. He was the whisper in the darkness the Adversary himself should fear.

“I hear Icies are cold inside,” he said, leaning up on the glass. “Freeze a man.”

Instead of recoiling like some prim bitch, she leaned in close, finger pulling her pale lip down in a way that sent his blood racing. “About three degrees warmer, actually.” Her voice was low, and husky. “Makes all the difference in the world, I hear.” She stepped back and smirked. “Not that you’d ever find out.”

Well damn. Knight sucked in a breath and stepped back, trying not to visibly shake himself. “What do you want, Icie?”

“From you? Not much.” She was odd, never broke eye contact. Like her every word was a direct challenge, and she couldn’t give a centimeter of ground. “But David thinks you care about Rachel Jordan. Is that true?”

Knight shrugged, then sat back on the floor. He’d be a fool to care. He’d tried … he’d begun to let himself feel. And look where he was. He’d murdered Hadrian. “She was paying me as a bodyguard. I’m guessing that arrangement has ended.” And where was she while he waited in here? Had she escaped? Was she still on Gehenna? Or maybe she was here on this ship, working with these people. That David was something to her, something that left Knight seething with unexpected and unwanted jealousy. Why? Why did she still care for that prick?

But the answer was obvious. What woman wouldn’t choose the man over the monster?

And so here he sat in this cell. Where he belonged for his crimes.

“A bodyguard, huh? Nice job.”

“You’re the one who shot me with a lightning bolt.” And he wouldn’t forget it if he did get out of here.

“Yeah, those of us in the real universe call it an electrolaser. And do you have any idea what’s happening to your former employer right now?”

“Should I care?” Was she here? Was she in trouble? It wasn’t his problem … She was supposed to get him to New Rome, not leave him in a Sentinel brig to be questioned by some frigid Icie. God, he’d killed Hadrian for her. And what had she done but leave him? Just like everyone else.

Except …

“Now who’s cold?” The Icie smirked at him. “She’s being tortured. You know, if you decide to work up enough moral fiber to care. Or have the balls to do anything about it.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t his problem. If they had her, she wasn’t going to be paying him for anything anymore. Maybe he should just give them what they wanted. Maybe they’d let him go. But Rachel …

Except Rachel had come back for him on that bike. She’d known who and what he was, and she’d come back to save him. She’d tried to protect him.

“Fine,” the Icie said. “I knew it was a mistake to come to you.”

Rachel was an idiot sometimes. An idealist, totally ignorant of the universe around them. And she’d acted like a friend.

Knight had lost one friend already. Had killed him. And if he did nothing now, he’d lose another. Despite all their differences, all the arguments, the thought of someone hurting her, of doing the things to her that his government did to people when they wanted something … The things he himself had done …

He’d never known his parents. He’d lost Shirin. He’d lost Hadrian. Almost everyone he’d ever held dear was gone. And Rachel was one of those people. Even if she chose David over him, it didn’t matter.

Because she still cared about him. As much as Hadrian had, and with even less reason. The insane girl cared about him.

And if he had one friend left in this universe, then he would not fail her.

He stood. “Wait.”

The Icie turned back to him. “What’s the matter? Heart thawing a bit?”

“What do you want from me?”

She hesitated a moment, then hit a button that opened the cell door. The glass slid down and she stepped aside. A trick? If so, he’d make her regret it. He stepped through slowly, eyes pinned on her face.

“The captain …” The Icie leaned close to Knight’s face, so close he could feel her breath. It was hot, and it made his cheek tingle. “David thinks he’s gone too far. He’s going to try to take the ship. And I need someone to help me get to Rachel when he does.”

So. This David really was her friend. In that case, maybe he’d get to live out the day. “I’m in,” he whispered into the Icie’s ear. If his life had no other meaning, he’d tear this ship to pieces and take on hell itself, but he would not let harm come to Rachel. If this captain hurt her, he’d die.

Maybe he’d always be a monster. But there was one person out there he’d never fail.

The Icie nodded and turned to leave. Her suit hugged her form, highlighting all her muscles, from her toned arms to her shapely ass.

“Hey, Icie. How about a mono blade?”

She spun, stepped right up into his face and looked him in the eye. “My name is Phoebe Dana. Call me Icie again and one of us is going to have a bad day.” She shrugged. “And we don’t have any swords available. Get a real weapon.”

At that she spun.

Knight followed her out, only smiling when she couldn’t see it.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

For twenty-five hundred years Angels told us what to think, where to go, and when to do it. And then they vanished. Those of us born now, centuries later, probably cannot imagine the shock, the utter sense of abandonment our ancestors felt. Some claimed Armageddon had come.

“Apollo is on the line for you,” Rebekah said, sticking her head through the doorway to his office.

Caleb shut his eyes, trying not to imagine the coming conversation. Not one he was looking forward to at all. He had no reason to fear Apollo, of course. The man worked for him. In theory.

“Caleb?” Rebekah said. “Are you all right?”

Other than a pounding headache, an irrational nervousness over speaking to one of his own scientists, and his unsated lust for his assistant, he was doing well enough. Except for losing the Goddamn Sefer. “I’m fine, Rebekah. I’ll take the call in private.”

She left, and he glanced down at his family photo. “Forgive me my weaknesses, Ayelet.” He stroked his wife’s cheek in the picture. Maybe he should have just left Jericho and lived with them. Left all the temptation. But then, they’d become accustomed to a certain style of living, hadn’t they?

“Receive call.”

Apollo’s shrouded face flashed onto the screen. “Update me on the situation,” the man said in his usual emotionless tone.

“Things turned out poorly.” That was an understatement. Half the Gibborim were dead, Sarah was livid over the loss of her best agent, and quite frankly, he was probably going to have to replace her. Which meant finding someone else with the nerve, guile, and discretion necessary to oversee the unit without giving away his involvement.

“Explain.”

“Our agents were killed without recovering the Sefer. Ms. Jordan is now in the custody of the Sentinel ship, Logos, which has refused any attempt the Gehennan government has made to communicate with them. The planet is in chaos.”

To say nothing of the millions of credits worth of damage done to Beeroth in that little manhunt. How Sarah had managed to turn tracking one rogue agent and a civilian with a book into a war zone that had cost dozens of lives or more, as well as a hover carrier and God-knew what else he’d ignored in Rebekah’s reports, he’d never know.

They’d chosen Gehenna because no one was supposed to care about the little shit-hole. Instead, the Empire had sent a Sentinel battleship to the system.

“That is disappointing,” Apollo said, without even a hint of disappointment.

“Yes. Yes it is. Our assets performed at less than the desired levels.”

“Were the cybernetics successfully integrated?”

Caleb nodded. That, at least, had gone mostly according to plan. The reports of Omega had been particularly promising. Which made it twice as annoying to have lost the man. Everything Jericho had invested in Omega’s body was now splattered across the pavement in Beeroth. It had taken quite a cover story to get that cleaned up without anyone realizing what all that metal in his body meant.

Caleb sighed, and glanced back at Apollo. “Sarah claimed he was her best agent. He showed strong test results, and his body accepted all the augmentations we implanted.”

“Then the project was not a loss. We have the capacity to create cybernetically enhanced soldiers. We merely need to find the correct venue.” Apollo leaned forward, revealing slightly more of his face than Caleb had ever seen. Even with his cybernetic eyes, Caleb had never really gotten a clear look through that darkness. Now, he could see the man’s eyes flicker. Were they cybernetic replacements, too?

Caleb’s eyes broke the First Commandment, no doubt. But then, they were so damn useful.

“We must still recover the Ark,” Apollo said.

Obviously. Caleb decided to control the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m trying to organize a government strike against the Logos. If we can recover the Sefer, we should be able to translate it on our own.”

Of course, such a strike might prove futile, but they had to try. Gehennan technology was vastly inferior to what the Sentinels had on that ship, so the cost of victory would be steep. But Gehenna didn’t really matter, not compared to finding the Ark. With that, he’d unlock technology beyond the wildest dreams of the most visionary QI geniuses in the universe. Jericho would be his for the taking, and Quasar Industries would become a shell. Let them try keeping up with the advancements Caleb would release with that knowledge.

He’d have the entire Conglomerate under his control in a year, at most. And from there, it was a short stop to bringing the Empire itself to heel. Or Asherah.

It was almost enough to call Jericho Corp ships in on the strike. But if they failed, his hand would be played. The board would not look kindly on involving them in an open conflict with Mizraim, and if they didn’t back him … Well, he didn’t even want to consider what the Sentinels would do to him.

Apollo’s eyes bored into him. “You’re considering a full strike against a Sentinel battleship.”

Caleb squirmed. He wasn’t used to people reading him. He was the one who read other people. “I don’t see any choice.”

“Because you are blinded by fear and short-term vision.”

Under his desk, Caleb gave Apollo the finger.

“You must think in terms of the endgame. Send no one after them yet. They will do the work of decoding the Sefer for you, then lead you right to the Ark.”

He caught himself chewing his thumb. Maybe Apollo was right. Maybe frustration had limited his vision. Why risk an outright assault on the Sentinels until they had the Ark? Sometimes, you had to back up and wait for the right moment.

It meant he’d need to keep Sarah in place—no time to train someone else. He needed an asset who could be his eyes and ears in that galaxy.

Apollo cut the line, and Caleb called up Sarah.

“What now?” she demanded.

His head hurt, and he let it show. So he wasn’t going to terminate her yet—it didn’t mean he was going to put up with that attitude much longer. “Ms. Radison,” he said. “I hope you don’t think yourself irreplaceable.”

She glared, saying nothing.

“Gather your forces, quell the disturbances on Gehenna, but do nothing else until I tell you.”

“You don’t want us to go after them?”

“Not yet.”

“As you wish.”

He cut the line and called Rebekah back in. He had some time to kill, and he was in serious need of something to soothe his nerves.

“You want me to continue the reports?” she asked.

“No. What are you wearing, Rebekah?”

She looked down at her tight green top and gray suit pants in confusion.

“I mean under those.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

After the Vanishing, it didn’t take long for mankind to fall into civil war. Many records were lost, so even with all my studies, I cannot be sure of exactly what happened. What I can say is that the rise of the Sentinels under the control of the Shekhinah was seen by most as the last chance for mankind.

It was a dream. That was the only way David could view his actions. He stood on the threshold of the bridge, unable to buzz open the door.

Leah put her hand on his shoulder. “You sure?”

“It’s already started.” He’d committed mutiny, and all he could do now was see it through, damned though he be. They were armed with electrolasers—he’d not kill other Sentinels—but unfortunately their suits would absorb the brunt of the blasts. Chances were they’d have to physically restrain the bridge crew.

He glanced past Leah, to a handful of other officers he’d known would side with him. “Let’s go, lads.” Then he buzzed the door and rushed the bridge.

David and his fellow mutineers charged in, fanning out around the room. Waller spun at once, his face quickly flashing from surprise to wrath.

“McGregor!”

“Captain, I hereby relieve you of command for violations of Mizraim law.”

One of the bridge Sentinels pulled a pulse pistol. Lightning cracked behind David, the blast throwing the Sentinel against a console. He dropped his weapon, but was up again in a second. David had six officers, the bridge had eight, counting Waller. This was going to be bad.

He rushed the nearest man, who came up swinging.

“Arrest that traitor!” Waller shouted, pulling his own pulse pistol. Another electrolaser blast staggered him, and one of David’s crew tackled the captain.

David traded blows with the officer on him before catching the man behind the head. He slammed down, smashing the poor lad into a console, then slapped magnetic restraints on his arms.

The bridge had erupted into chaos. Leah barely fended off another soldier attacking her. Waller had his attacker held aloft by the throat. David had to end this with all possible haste.

He dove straight into the captain’s abdomen, tackling the Anakim to the ground. The impact stunned them both a moment, then Waller had his hands on David’s wrist. Slowly, David’s arms were pried apart. God, the man’s strength was uncanny. His shoulders ached from the strain as Waller hefted him up by both wrists.

David snapped his feet forward, kicking the captain in the chest. Waller lost his grip and David fell, landing on his shoulders. It stung, but he had to move. He rolled backward.

“You’ve betrayed your commission, McGregor,” Waller said, advancing.

David rose and flexed his arms, trying to get blood flowing properly to them again. “You’ve betrayed your principles, Captain.”

Waller cracked his neck, balled his fists, and continued his advance. He swung and David ducked, catching him with a right hook. It only momentarily drove the man back, and then the captain was swinging again. David blocked, the impact numbing his arm, even through his suit.

Angels above, he’d known Anakim were stronger than normal humans, but …

But David was faster. He blocked and dodged, edging away until Waller overreached, then socked him across the jaw. That sent him backpedaling.

Leah moaned, her sudden terror reaching him through the tumult of emotion around him. Shite. David glanced at her. The Sentinel she fought had her pressed against the wall, choking her. She flailed against his arms, but her blows were weakening. All of David’s other men were engaged.

No time. David pulled his electrolaser and shot the officer on Leah. The pair both convulsed and fell to the floor. David ran at the officer, who rose, turning on him. David swung and the man blocked, falling back.

Then Leah wrapped one of his arms in a lock behind his back and shoved his head into the wall. The officer fell stunned. She bent over him and pinned his hands with restraints.

“You all right?”

She nodded, but her breath came in rasps.

A pulse pistol hummed and Dave launched himself at Leah, throwing them both to the deck. Shots exploded where they’d been standing. He rolled over and fired his electrolaser.

The bolt hit Waller, who staggered back but didn’t drop the pistol.

Tough son of a bitch. David scrambled behind a console as more shots rang out above him. The electrolaser needed a second to recharge after firing. Wait one breath, two.

He rolled out and fired again. The bolt struck Waller, who dropped his pistol, doubled over in pain. David rushed him.

The man came up swinging. His fist caught David across the jaw, and everything blurred. He was falling. Hitting the floor took his breath away. He couldn’t see.

David shook himself.

Waller ran out the port exit. “Activate internal defenses, captain’s authority!”

Shite, if the captain got away they were royally buggered. He scrambled up and chased after him. As soon as he entered the hall, a hatch in the ceiling opened and a pulse turret extended from it.

David dove back onto the bridge, tackling one of his own men who had tried to fire. Shots rang out, the turret sending a stream of pulses after them. Someone hit the buzzer to close the door. David looked up. Leah.

“Thanks, lass.”

His heart hammered almost as hard as his head. A pulse turret would pound through even a Sentinel suit.

His men had subdued five of the bridge officers. David helped them pull down one more. Waller and another—Smith, he thought—were missing.

“How are we going to take them with the internal defenses on?” Leah asked.

Damn good question. The internal defenses only responded to the captain’s authority—and David would need more officers than he had to transfer command to himself. Waller had clearly ordered the defenses to target David, and probably Leah. And could he really take the chance of sending anyone else out there? He might have taken the bridge, but moving about the ship would be beyond dangerous.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

October 9th, 3096 EY

Seeing Knight come for me like that left me speechless. Even now, I struggle to put my feelings to words. In my life, few have ever truly believed in me. Even if Knight and David still didn’t believe as I did, I knew they were behind me. And at long last, it was enough.

The lift opened to deck five. This was where Phoebe said they were holding Rachel.

The Icie pressed a pulse pistol into his hand. “I’ve configured it for your bio-signature.” Okay, whatever that meant. “You do know how to use a gun, right ninja boy?”

He briefly considered shooting her with it. Not the time.

“Remember,” she said, “these are mostly good people. Don’t kill them unless you have no choice.”

“I’ll do my best.” He took off down the hall. It took only moments before a pair of guards jerked to attention, pulling pulse pistols of their own.

Knight opened fire just above their heads. The pistol had almost no recoil. A torrent of pulses streamed from it, scorching the walls. The Sentinels threw themselves to the deck, avoiding the blasts. Knight kept running at them, then leapt onto the wall, throwing himself over their attempt to return fire.

He kicked off and landed in their midst. One Sentinel he caught round the shoulders and spun him, flinging him into the other. He unleashed a string of attacks, keeping both at bay, driving them back into the wall.

They tried guarding their vulnerable faces, so Knight kicked one of them in the knee, sending him down. Phoebe raced in and jumped on the downed man, slamming him to the ground.

The man swung his pulse pistol round to fire at Knight. He jerked his head to the side, evading the shot, and pushed the Sentinel’s arm wide. A simple twist turned the man around and then Knight smashed his head into the wall twice.

The Sentinel collapsed onto the deck.

Phoebe slapped magnetic restraints onto the other’s hands.

“What, do you always carry those?” Knight asked.

“Yup, yup. Helps when we arrest criminals, POWs, and generalized assholes.” She shot him a wink, and he scowled.

He hit the buzzer to open the door. Nothing happened. He hit it again.

“Got to put in an access code,” she said, typing hers onto the keypad. The door whooshed open, revealing a circular room.

Rachel sat strapped to a chair in the center of the room. It revolved slowly, giving her a view of the surrounding screen. The screens flashed with a barrage of distorted images of war and destruction interspersed with signs of the Sentinels and order. Some kind of metal goggles held her eyes open, forcing her to watch the screens. Even her head was strapped in, so she couldn’t turn away.

What the fuck was this?

He ran to her. The magnetic restraints each had a simple switch to activate or deactivate. The moment he hit the one on her head, she slumped forward. He released all the other restraints.

“David said it was bad,” Phoebe said. “But I didn’t know they’d booked her a ticket to hell.”

“What was that about generalized assholes?” Knight snapped. He pulled Rachel into his arms, then slipped the goggles off her face. She collapsed against his shoulder, murmuring. “What have these bastards done to you, Rach?”

“You came for me?” Her voice was dry, rough like she’d been screaming.

“I … I had to get paid. That’s all. Just self-interest.”

She leaned in close to his ear. “Keep telling yourself that. But remember, I can feel your emotions.” She held onto him for a moment, her warmth filling him. She was all right. She had to be all right.

After a moment, she pushed away, and he helped her stand. She looked curiously at Phoebe.

The Icie strode over to her and gave her a cursory inspection. “You’ll be fine. I’m Lieutenant Phoebe Dana. Commander McGregor sent me.”

Rachel sighed. “Mac … I knew he wouldn’t leave me.”

Yeah, real swell friend she had. Rachel stood shakily on her own feet. Knight turned and started for the door.

“Well?” Phoebe said. “Trust me now, Knight?”

He looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “I like this gun.” It was fast, accurate, and if the gauge on the side was what he thought, had more than two hundred rounds remaining. Damn fine weapon, though Knight still preferred getting up close and personal.

Phoebe smirked. “Yeah. The Rapture. Standard issue these days, but it’s a beauty. The rails fire magnetic plasma pulses almost as fast as a MAG fires slugs, but with a lot more power. These babies can tear through kinetic shields like nothing else.”

Knight raised an eyebrow. “You like your guns, huh?”

“So?” She stepped closer, like it was some kind of challenge. One day, he’d enjoy putting her back in her place.

Instead, he stepped into the hall. Time to get off this ship.

A turret extended from a new opening in the ceiling. It spun toward him, firing pulses. Time slowed. He jerked to the side, throwing himself onto Phoebe and pulling them both down. In the same motion he pulled his pulse pistol from his coat and opened fire.

The pistol rocked, launching pulse after pulse into the turret, which turned to home in on Knight. He flung himself away, dodging the pulses, and slid along the floor, continuing to fire. The turret began to glow with incandescence, then ruptured. A cascade of explosions rippled along the ceiling, blowing out panels for several meters.

Knight spared a breath to glance at a trail of scorch marks on the deck, centimeters from where he rested on the ground. He slumped down a moment to breathe.

Then Phoebe was there, offering him a hand up. “How do you move that fast?”

He honestly didn’t know. Years of Gibborim training had honed his reflexes, but none of the others had been able to react the way he could. They were all fast—civilians would have thought inhumanely fast. But Knight was something else. He just shook his head. “Lots of practice.”

“David’s attempt to take the bridge must have failed. Waller’s activated the internal defenses.”

Rachel stepped out then, holding her head. “You mean there’s going to be more of those things?”

Phoebe nodded. “Almost every intersection. Hang on.” She tapped something on her forearm. “Dana to McGregor.”

A second later an intercom buzzed. “Phoebe, are you all right?”

“We’re fine. I’m with Rachel and Ezekiel.”

Knight folded his arms. No one called him Ezekiel. Only Hadrian ever had. And Hadrian was gone … No. No one would ever call him Ezekiel again.

“I’ve got the bridge, but Waller’s activated the defenses. We don’t have much time before he storms the place. I don’t have enough people to hold it.”

“I can shoot down a few turrets,” Knight said, “but I can’t take on a whole ship’s worth. It limits our movement too much. Those count for more than any number of soldiers.”

The line went silent for a moment, then David spoke. “We can’t take control of the turrets. Those are the captain’s purview. But if we cut the power conversion from the Singularity Drive, the whole ship would lose power, including internal defenses.”

“Fine,” Phoebe said. “We’ll meet you at the Core.” She cut the line and took off down the hall.

“What’s the Singularity Drive?” Knight said.

“You really are backwater, aren’t you?” He could hear that infuriating laughter in her voice. “It’s a miniature black hole all large starships use for power.”

A black hole.

Well, wasn’t that fantastic.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Beside the training and tenacity, most other military forces feared to face Sentinels because of their signature pulse technology. Pulse weaponry was developed by Quasar Industries in 3075 EY on an exclusive contract with the Sentinels, and such weaponry is illegal for anyone else to own or operate—a crime both QI and the Sentinels take very seriously. I’ve heard of Sentinels spacing pulse smugglers.

Leah rose from the smoking body of one of David’s men. She shook her head, indicating he was beyond saving. “David, you know I believe in you,” Leah said. “I want to say that up front, before I point out your plan is totally off rotation.”

He nodded. “Aye, lass.” But they had no choice. They might race past a few turrets, but Knight was right, they were on borrowed time as long as the internal defenses were up.

David, Leah, and the rest of his lads stood over the wreckage of another turret, the one that had killed Ensign York.

“Look, we have to get to the Core room. It’s the only chance, and we can take the access shaft down from here.”

“You don’t even know how to shut it down,” Leah complained.

No, but Phoebe would. “We can’t shut down a singularity,” he said, “just turn off the converter harnessing the radiation.” He took off running down the corridor. If he recalled correctly there shouldn’t be any more turrets before the access shaft.

A pair of Sentinels rounded the corner, pulse pistols trained. A bolt of electricity took one in the chest. The other fired, and Leah screamed. No time to check. David aimed at the Sentinel’s legs and fired. The man toppled, moaning, and David’s people were on him in an instant.

David dropped down to Leah. She lay on the ground, moaning. A plasma pulse had taken her in the shoulder. Her suit had absorbed the brunt of the hit, but her flesh would be badly scorched underneath. She hissed when he touched her.

“Up, lass. We don’t have the time.”

With a grunt, she nodded, then let him help her up. They ran toward the access shaft and Ensign Stewart threw it open. David had intended to be the first in, but the Ensign climbed right in, heading down the ladder.

“Can you climb?” he asked Leah.

“No choice, right?”

He helped her in, and she struggled down the ladder. Much too slowly. They were in the shite now, and even if Waller didn’t figure out where they were going, he’d catch on to them using the access shafts.

David waved his remaining two men on, and they started down the ladder. Another Sentinel patrol came running toward them. God forgive him. David shot first, catching one man in the shoulder.

The other soldier fired and David threw himself to the floor, firing again. One of his pulses took the poor bloke in the stomach. A surge of bile rose in David’s throat. He’d probably just killed one of his own soldiers.

He scrambled into the access shaft, climbing down after the others. They were going too slow. “Use grav-nets!” he shouted below.

“I don’t have one,” Leah said.

Of course not. The chief medical officer didn’t need her suit fitted for that kind of mission.

“Fine, the rest of you pass her and drop.” His men did as ordered, edging down past Leah and dropping down the shaft. The grav-nets would catch them below.

David climbed down to Leah. “Wrap your arms around me, lass.” When she did, he let go of the ladder and fell fast, streaming past three decks before he hit the grav-net. It slowed his fall and he landed in a crouch, Leah clutched in his arms.

He tapped the comm on his arm as he stood. “McGregor to Dana. Where are you, Phoebe?”

The intercom flickered. “On the way. Deck eight.”

“Hurry.” He cut the line. “They’re still too far out. We need to move. The Core room will be secured.”

His men nodded, and Leah stood on her own, hoisting her pulse pistol in her off hand, her good shoulder heavily favored. She was going to need treatment for that wound as soon as possible.

Time to get it over with.

David buzzed open the door and charged into the hall, opening fire on the turret. It swerved, tracking him. Leah and the other two fired, and the combined pulses disabled the weapon before it could discharge.

Soldiers rushed them. No time to switch to electrolasers. David shot, hating himself for it. He tried to aim for legs and shoulders, but in the chaos of the firefight, at least one man died. And then Ensign Stewart took a pulse to the face. It flash-burned his skin off and flung his corpse back into the access shaft.

Leah shot the last soldier standing against them. David grimaced. It was never supposed to have gotten this bloody.

He ran to the Core room door, but it refused his access code. Waller had already changed the codes. Well, only one thing to do. David ripped off the maintenance panel and fired several pulse rounds into the system.

Sparks flew and the door shorted. He palmed the metal and pushed, shoving it open. No turrets guarded the Core room. The machinery here was too sensitive, too important to risk damage. The room was circular, with a catwalk surrounding a smart-glass sphere. At the center of the sphere was a hole in reality. A vision of nothingness, of oblivion set to consume the universe.

Of course, he knew he couldn’t see the actual singularity. The accretion disc spinning around it was the only visible sign of its presence. It almost looked innocent, some would say beautiful. This thing that could gobble up the entire ship if they lost containment. Bugger this up and they were all dead.

“Hold the room,” he told Leah, and his last man, Nielson. “Hold it until Lieutenant Dana gets here.”

He wanted to turn away from the sphere, to watch the door like the others. But it drew him in. He’d only been in here once before, and he’d never wanted to come again. Harnessing a singularity felt wrong, even if the technology had come from the Angels themselves. Unlimited power, but there had to be a price. Everything had a price.

And one of these things had devoured his mum.

He was still staring at it when Phoebe, Knight, and Rachel rushed in. He turned to Rachel and she stumbled toward him. Her eyes were red, swollen, and she trembled. Psionic pain wafted off her, a disruption in her psyche even he could feel.

And he couldn’t stop himself from running to her. “Rach.”

She leaned against his chest. “Mac. Guess I have you to thank for getting me out of this.”

And maybe for getting her into it, too. God, what had he let happen to her? “You have to believe me, I never thought he would take it that far.”

“Yeah, save the sobby reunion for later, would you?” Knight said, glowering, and turned to look away.

Phoebe stepped past them all and went to work. “This is going to take a bit of time. It has to be done carefully.”

Aye, no kidding. “No pressure, now. But we can’t stay here long.” He hoped they wouldn’t have to, as he spared another glance at the sphere. This was not a place for humankind.

For a while, Phoebe worked in silence. Rachel and Leah both slumped against the wall while Knight and David kept watch. Her former bodyguard was still as death, watching the hall.

A few minutes later a trio of Sentinels charged them. And God help him, David shot them. It had gone too far, but there was no turning back.

And so he waited for Phoebe.

“That should do it,” Phoebe said.

“Will you be able to keep the AG field online?” David asked.

“No, it comes from the Singularity Drive. If I shut off conversion we lose it.”

“Do it.”

She pulled a handle, and the lights went out. Suddenly, nothing held them to the deck, and he was floating.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

A pulse pistol is essentially a MAG, except that the rails launch a magnetically contained plasma pulse—a superheated cloud of ionized gas that rips through flesh, armor, and kinetic shielding with not only the kinetic energy of a MAG slug, but enormous thermal energy.

Emergency lighting flickered on, stinging David’s eyes after the brief bout of darkness. Knight was floating nearby, an odd look of vertigo on his face.

“Never been in zero-g, huh big guy?” Phoebe said.

David hid his smirk and pushed off the wall, lowering his feet to the floor. He activated the gravity relativizer in his suit, and suddenly his boots clanked down to the deck. At least they had emergency power.

“Isn’t that nice, Mac,” Rachel said. “Did you bring enough GRs for the rest of us?”

Unfortunately, no. Rachel could handle herself, but she wasn’t a soldier, and Leah was wounded. “You two are staying here to guard the Core room. We don’t want it reactivated until we’ve secured Waller.”

“They’re not going to be able to hold it themselves,” Knight said.

Sadly true. David sighed. “Aye. Nielson, you stay with them, too.”

The officer saluted, and David took Phoebe and Knight down the hall. She activated her own GR, and Knight just drifted, pushing himself along the wall. Phoebe kept looking up at him and snorting. Still, David had to admit, he was getting the hang of zero-g flight very quickly. He seemed to have an intuitive grasp of his environment that would serve him well under the circumstances.

Many of the crew would not have GRs, only those assigned to spec ops. It would give him and Phoebe an edge, a freedom of movement the others lacked.

“Where do we find your captain?” Knight asked from above.

“He’s probably retaken the bridge. We have to hurry—they’ll know exactly where Rachel and the others are now.”

He ran down the corridor to the access shaft. The lifts would be out, so these shafts were the easiest ways between decks. He switched off the GR, grabbed a rung of the ladder, and threw himself upward. Every few meters he pushed off again, controlling his ascent.

This was it. The bridge level.

The moment he opened the access door, shots exploded nearby, and David had to jerk himself back down, almost bumping into Phoebe. She pushed aside, and Knight crowded them both.

“Well, boss?” Phoebe said. “We’re here. I hope there’s more to the plan. I mean, I love the charge in guns blazing approach—I just prefer they’re not blazing at me.”

A plan? Not so much, really, but that wasn’t what his crew needed to hear. “Cover me, I’ll launch myself out there.”

“No,” Knight said. “I’ll do that. I’m faster. You two cover me.”

David scowled, but Knight was right. Besides, he suspected he had more experience with pistols than the Gehennan did. There were only three Sentinels up there. Knight had a chance. “Aye, do it. And be quick, lad. On three.”

He counted off on his fingers, then stuck his head up and started shooting, trying to pin down the crew without killing anyone. Phoebe did the same, then Knight flung himself out of the shaft, angled oddly up rather than straight out. He bounced off the walls and ceiling at unpredictable angles, sending most of the Sentinels’ shots wide as he closed the distance.

One soldier drew a bead on Knight. David grit his teeth and shot her. No choice. She fell, and Knight collided in midair with another Sentinel. For a moment they spun about, grappling in midair.

No way to get a clear shot, so David launched himself from the shaft. Knight seemed unable to get the upper hand. Not used to fighting in zero-g, he supposed. David grabbed the Sentinel and pulled him down, holding him long enough for Knight to punch him while Phoebe drove the other soldier back around the corner.

David switched his GR back on and clanked down on the deck. Then he dashed around the corner and dove to the ground, firing into the air. Predictably the soldier pushed away to escape. Phoebe came around the corner and shot him with an electrolaser. He convulsed in the air and slammed into a wall, bounced off it and spun into another.

Out of restraints, David had no choice but to pummel the poor lad a few times, making sure he wasn’t getting back up.

He buzzed open the door to the bridge. More shots rang out, but he caught a glimpse of Waller.

“Knight, repeat the last maneuver.”

The Gehennan looked like he was about to argue, then just glared, and lined himself up. Phoebe cleared the top of the door to take position on the other side. She nodded, and once again David counted to three on his fingers.

Then they both fired blindly through the doorway, pulse pistols on full auto. Knight kicked off the far wall, soaring into the room, twisting in midair to avoid pulses David could barely see. A moment later, he followed the Gehennan in, dashing behind a console as more shots rang through the air.

Knight caught a man in midair and spun him around. He squeezed his hand over the Sentinel’s, pulling the trigger on another officer. Knight jerked his elbow back into his captive’s face, probably breaking his jaw.

Phoebe switched to her electrolaser and fired a blast at Waller. The captain had no GR. The blast struck him dead-on and flung him against the screen. His pulse pistol slipped away. And then Knight was up there with him.

Waller swung, and Knight blocked, again and again. Knight’s palm cracked over Waller’s nose, and still the captain fought on. The Anakim might be strong as the holy universe, but Knight was too bloody fast. He turned the captain’s wrist and flung him down on the deck, then kicked off the wall. The momentum carried Knight forward where his knee slammed into Waller’s shoulders.

Phoebe had downed another soldier, and David took on the last, who dropped his weapon when he realized David’s GR gave him such an advantage.

“This the fucker who did that to Rachel?” Knight asked, cracking Waller across the face again.

David pulled Knight off, then grabbed restraints from a downed Sentinel and snapped them on Waller. “Aye, Knight.”

Before David could even react Knight had kicked Waller in the stomach. The captain doubled over, drifting through the air and impacting the screen. Knight moved in again.

“Enough!” David said. “Captain, you’re beaten. Surrender command.”

“Go to hell, mutineer.”

David sighed and nodded at Phoebe. “Get down there and get the power back on.” He tapped his comm to open a general channel to everyone on the ship. “This is Commander McGregor. I have relieved Captain Waller of duty for breaches of Mizraim law. The ship is under my control now. Stand down immediately and return to your quarters. Senior officers to the bridge.”

“Will they listen?” Knight asked.

David hoped so. He’d need at least two other senior officers to override Waller’s command control. With Leah and Phoebe up here he could do it, but it would be better if the rest of the officers cooperated.

A few minutes later, the lights and gravity were restored. Knight suddenly plummeted from the ceiling, where he had been guarding the door. He fell almost four meters, but somehow landed on his feet in a crouch.

Within moments, officers came onto the bridge, some with pistols drawn. One of them, Lieutenant Blaise, stepped up and took in the situation, her gaze lingering on the half-conscious captain. Mahlah was a Whisper—a Race designed for low and zero-G work. A perfect Sentinel. “You’d better have a damn good explanation for this, David. You know we’ve always liked you, but there’s twenty of us out there, and we’re ready to shoot you.”

“Do you know why we’re here, Mahlah? In orbit of a world where we have no jurisdiction? The captain brought us here to steal technology from the grasp of Jericho Corp. And he was willing to abduct and torture a Mizraim citizen for it. I know you’ve seen what Stigmata does to a person, especially with a telepath delving her.”

Mahlah Blaise turned to take in Knight, obvious distrust on her face, then looked to the side door when Phoebe, Nielson, Leah, and Rachel came in. “You’re with him, Phoebe?”

“Yup, yup. With David, I mean. That blond ass is on his own.”

“Mahlah, please,” David said. “Help me gain control of the ship, then we’ll turn the matter over to the Tabernacle. I give you my word.”

Mahlah nodded, slowly, then walked over to the command console, pulling off her glove. She pressed her palm into it. “Computer, communications chief Mahlah Blaise. Transfer command to Commander David McGregor.”

Phoebe pulled off her glove and did the same.

Finally, David walked over and placed his own palm on the console. “Computer, Commander David McGregor, relieving Captain Waller of command.”

“Authorized.”

“Deactivate internal defenses and restore all systems,” David said. The warning lights stopped flashing, and suddenly he found himself facing down a score of confused looking officers. Aye, they’d all have questions to answer in the days to come. He could only pray the Sanhedrin would back him. Either way, he’d done what he had to.

“So before we leave this God-forsaken place,” Rachel said, “can we make a little stop over to that moon? There’s something we all need to see, I think.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Sentinels classed warships into three categories—in order of size and power: destroyers, cruisers, and battleships. The Logos was a Tribulation model battleship, the latest and most devastating in the Sentinel fleet. Some rumors claimed a Tribulation ship could destroy a planet in under a minute. Of course, official specifications were classified.

The view from the Logos bridge was like looking down on a world from a floating throne. Never had Rachel thought to see something like this. The screen had shown Gehenna as they passed over it, and now revealed the pocked and lifeless moon.

Her heart pounded as much as it had in the battle. This was it. This was the moment. After so long, it seemed surreal. Every hair on her body stood on end. “There,” she said, pointing at the coordinates the Sefer Raziel had mentioned. She stood beside David, who sat in the pilot’s chair. “It should be there.”

“What does it look like?” Phoebe asked.

Good question. Would it be glorious? Gilded? Maybe carved with angelic reliefs? It was like being a kid on her fifth birthday again. “A computer, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Scanners aren’t picking up anything on the surface, Rach,” David said. He turned toward a crewman she didn’t know. “Deep scans.”

A few seconds later, the crewman answered. “There’s something under the surface, sir. Something big.”

A console started beeping. Knight had folded his arms and leaned against it, then jerked away when it beeped. David shot him a look that would have cowed any officer under his command. Knight gave him the finger.

Rachel smiled at the both of them. There was finally a crack in Knight’s armor, and try as he might to hide it, she felt the warmth coming off him. A loyalty deeper than anything she’d ever felt. And David … David had risked everything for her. He’d given up his beliefs to save her. And he still loved her—his emotions soared with his unspoken feelings, the pining of a heart he couldn’t hide from her. Almost enough to bring her to tears.

“Phoebe, use the laser batteries to cut it out,” David said.

“Yes, sir.” She started programming her console. “Phoebe, shoot the Asherans,” she mumbled. “Phoebe, reprogram a black hole. Phoebe, cut up this moon like a birthday cake. Yup, yup.”

Rachel smirked, and David didn’t reprimand her, though his amused emotions told her he’d heard. Five lasers fired from the batteries, precision slicing off bits of rock. Pieces of the moon drifted away, and Phoebe had other lasers chopping them up so they wouldn’t impact the planet. Gehenna had enough problems. She had to hand it to her, the cold-worlder knew how to handle a weapons console.

A massive slice of rock drifted away, revealing a metallic sheen beneath it. The metal was black and seemed to shimmer with starlight, and it stretched on and on under the rock. David rose from his seat and walked toward the screen, and Rachel followed.

What in the holy universe was that?

“Can you get a reading?” David asked.

“Scanners can’t penetrate the material, sir,” the science officer said, “but it looks like it stretches for more than twelve kilometers.”

David turned toward her, his face pale. “Rach … I don’t think that’s just a computer.”

No. It wasn’t. Holy shit.

She looked back at it, as lasers carved more and more of the thing free. It was so sleek with the rock cleared, like a massive board, totally flat. Except … As the lasers cut away more, she realized those were reversed wings coming off the main body, three pairs of them.

“Angels above … It’s a ship,” she said.

“It’s a behemoth, look at her.” David answered. “She’s huge. Bugger me. An Angel ship.”

Knight moved over to her side. “That’s what you’ve been seeking?”

“I guess.” Seemed like it, at least. Her pulse had increased and she had to steady herself on a console. God, the Ark wasn’t just a repository of knowledge, it was a full ship, buried beneath this moon hundreds of years ago. Why did they hide it? Where had they gone? All the answers were down there. All the answers, and all the questions. She was going to faint.

“Is there a docking bay?” she asked.

“That looks like one,” Phoebe said, pointing at the screen.

David turned toward Rachel. “I won’t deny you the moment you’ve been waiting for. Phoebe, you have the bridge.”

He strode off the bridge, and Rachel followed. It didn’t surprise her when Knight fell into step behind her. His emotions were guarded, sometimes hard to read. But she knew he was going to see this through. He’d never leave her in danger. And that warmth, that dedication left her flush. She patted his arm, but Knight kept his eyes forward.

David had returned the Sefer Raziel to her, and she kept it tucked under her arm. No losing this again.

They went down to the hangar, and she and Knight donned Sentinel suits while David started the launch sequence. Rachel’s hands shook when she strapped herself in. This was it. She was going inside the Ark.

“Ready?” David said.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

David piloted the shuttle out of the ship and flew down to the moon. Off the Logos, the sheer size of the Ark left her speechless. Twelve kilometers of seamless metal, black as night and shimmering, reflecting the stars themselves, like a mirror into the cosmos.

They flew down, inside a hangar that remained open to space. David pointed to a button on his arm. “Activate your helmets. You’ll have two hours of air. We have to be back at the shuttle before that.”

He pressed the button, and the nanomesh seemed to grow around his head, forming an opaque visor that reflected green light. The rest of his suit looked almost form-fitting, but the helmet was largely spherical.

Rachel did as he’d shown her. The suit started to move, setting the hairs on her neck on end. It was literally building itself over her head. Her heart raced. The helmet covered her face, even her hair, before the front piece turned translucent. One-way smart-glass. The internal air gushed when it first came on, but didn’t smell or taste any different.

“Just breathe normally,” David’s voice said from inside her helmet.

Built-in comm system. Okay, then.

Knight had done the same, and was looking around as if disoriented. The visor extended far into her periphery, so she doubted it cut out his vision much, it just felt like it did.

David buzzed open the shuttle door and they stepped out into the Ark. Inside was pitch black. Her visor switched to night vision, revealing a hangar that seemed to go on and on. Theirs was the only ship inside. The deck below was smooth. In the distance she could see a door leading on. She started for it.

David grabbed her arm. “We need to close the hangar first. If the rest of the ship has atmosphere, we’d be sucked out into space.”

“You think there could still be air down here?” Rachel asked.

David held up a hand scanner, then shrugged. “I can’t read anything through these walls.”

He trod over to the edge of the hangar and inspected a console. “There’s no power. Knight, bring me a fusion cell from the shuttle. I think I can rig it.”

“Like I know what that looks like,” Knight said.

David turned toward Knight. Rachel couldn’t see whatever look David gave him through the visor, but she felt his ire lashing out at him. “I’ll get it,” she said.

She reentered the shuttle, popped open the power console, and ejected one of the cells. She held it gingerly. Of course, she knew it wasn’t volatile. The casing made it perfectly safe to handle. And yet, well, it was a fusion cell.

She brought it back to David, who went to work trying to feed power into the console.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked.

“Not as well as Phoebe would,” he said, “but I think so.”

“You think so,” Knight said over the comm. “I didn’t come through all this to get irradiated or blown up.”

Rachel looked around the hangar, but couldn’t see Knight. He must have moved toward the door. He had to have heard David’s warning about decompression. There was no way he’d … “Knight?” Better safe than sorry. “What are you doing?”

“Watching for threats.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re alone down here. This thing has been buried for at least six hundred years.”

He didn’t answer.

“Got it,” David said a minute later. He pressed the console, and the hangar doors slid closed.

“You are going to be able to get those open again, right?” Knight said. “Because I wasn’t planning to move in.”

“Aye, lad, I—”

“Dana to McGregor,” Phoebe’s voice cut in over the comm.

David rose and walked with Rachel toward the exit. “What is it, Phoebe?”

“Gehennan ships are moving in on us, sir. Almost a hundred of them, and a pair of Jericho cruisers are with them.”

“David, we can’t let them have this thing,” Rachel said.

“Aye. Phoebe, hold them off as long as you can, on authority of Mizraim.” He turned to Rachel. “Lass, whatever you’re going to do here, better make it fast.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Nothing in all my studies, in all my experiences, could have prepared me for stepping into the Ark. Or for what lay inside.

The corridors were too empty, too still. Every step Rachel took felt like it vibrated for kilometers. They were running out of time. It had taken more than half an hour to find the bridge, and by now Phoebe was probably in a firefight with too many ships for even the Logos to handle.

The bridge was surprisingly empty. It was a circular room, with a pair of freestanding consoles, and some markings on the same wall as the door. Knight had gone off exploring the rest of the ship.

David ran around as if seeking something, exuding waves of nervousness that nearly sent her own anxiety spiking. “I can’t read any of these symbols,” he complained again.

Rachel tried to tune everything else out. She had to think. She’d seen some of these same markings in the Sefer Raziel. The Angels had their own language, their own symbology they’d never taught humankind.

“David,” she said, following a string of symbols to a panel on the wall. “David!”

He hurried over.

“This ship probably uses a Singularity Drive, too, right?”

“Aye. Anything this size would have to.”

“And a singularity isn’t just going to go out, right?”

He shuddered. “Small ones can, eventually, but one powerful enough to drive this … I doubt it. The Angels would have set up some kind of matter feed.”

“So if this ship is like the Logos, then the power is off because …”

He nodded. “Because the converter is off. There’s a power source, but nothing using it. They must have turned off the converter to make the ship harder to detect.”

Right. She pressed on the panel, and it slid down into the wall. A keypad covered in Angelic symbols rested behind the panel.

“All right, Angelologist,” David said. “What does it mean?”

Rachel turned on the tablet for the Sefer and flipped the pages until she found a matching code. Was it that easy? Had Raziel really meant for anyone with the Sefer to be able to restart the Ark?

Only one way to find out. The pad displayed sixteen symbols. Rachel chose the seven indicated in the Sefer. Something in the distance creaked.

“What was that?” Knight said over the comm.

“Just hold on,” she answered.

A pulse like a heartbeat rocked through the ship. And then again. The walls throbbed, the floor beneath her feet vibrated. A warm illumination spilled out from crystal panes in the ceiling, lighting the bridge.

“Angels above, is this thing alive?” David asked.

An organic ship—hibernating until now. Waiting for someone to wake it. Rachel walked toward the center of the bridge and the floor opened up, pushing out a seat. The back narrowed heavily in the center as it reached up. She ran a finger over the slick seat. A seat for a being with wings.

She sat down and a holographic display sprang up all around her, showing the surrounding space. Angelic symbols filled the air and gauges popped up on the wall like it was a screen. Rachel touched a symbol she thought meant life, and a chime sounded. A second later, air whooshed throughout the ship.

“Angels above,” David said again. “This is breathable air. Where did it come from?”

Rachel pressed her hand through the holographic image of the ship itself, and when she lifted it, the ship rocked, breaking from centuries of rock built around it.

Knight rushed back onto the bridge. “What in the holy universe is going on?”

Rachel glanced at him. “We’re about to change the universe.” She smiled. “Hold on to something.”

She wrapped her hand into the holoship and lifted it up, and the Ark launched into space. A hundred other ships appeared in her holographic display.

“What’s happening?” David said.

They couldn’t see the hologram? Rachel saw a symbol for vision and passed her hand through it. The front wall became a screen revealing the battle. A Jericho cruiser was no match for a Sentinel battleship. But a pair of cruisers backed by dozens of Gehennan fighters might be.

Atmosphere vented out from multiple hull breaches on the Logos. It had cost the Gehennans dearly and the wreckage of dozens more fighters littered space, but more people were going to die before this was over.

Rachel reached into a holographic image of a plasma ball. The ship was speaking to her, speaking to her mind. It was alive, almost sentient. Telling her how to use it. She flung her wrist toward one of the cruisers and a stream of plasma erupted from the Ark. It took only seconds for the stream to cut through the cruiser’s shields and breach the hull.

From there the beam carved a line down the middle of the Jericho ship and the entire thing exploded. The other ship hesitated only a moment before turning to flee. The Gehennans followed suit quickly.

Rachel leaned back in the chair. It was becoming part of her. She could feel its presence in her mind, unraveling its mysteries slowly. It was like the moment between dreaming and waking, as she became half-conscious of infinite possibilities.

Time passed, she couldn’t say how much, and David was shaking her. “Love? Are you all right? Rach?”

She nodded, and shrugged. The moment she rose the hologram faded. “How long was I …?”

“A few hours,” he said. “Knight wanted to wake you already, but I was worried what would happen. Still, we couldn’t wait any more.”

Her stomach rumbled. God, she was starving. The room spun a little, and David caught her. She felt Knight there watching, his emotions too jumbled, too conflicted for her to make out clearly.

“You need rest, lass. We should go back to the Logos.”

“I’ll rest on the Ark—there are plenty of quarters.” There were so many places here she had only begun to explore, so many things she hadn’t even considered. So much her head felt like it would blast apart.

She shook herself and turned to Knight. “Thank you. For everything, Knight. You did more than I ever could have asked.”

He shifted, his sudden discomfort at the praise almost knocking her over. “Yeah, whatever.”

She smiled. “A lot of bad things happened to you on that planet, huh?”

He shrugged. “Bad things happen to everyone on that planet.”

“Maybe I can make some small part of that better.”

Knight raised an eyebrow, and Rachel sat back in the chair. The hologram popped back up, and she directed the ship toward Gehenna.

“Rach, whatever this is, can’t it wait?” David said. “You’re barely holding yourself up.”

True, but she needed to do this. Her mind delved deeper into the ship, reaching its core consciousness. Symbols sprang before her face, and she chose more and more. Every selection had to be made carefully, but the Ark knew what she wanted. She could feel it.

The ship pulsed, and something fired into Gehenna’s atmosphere. The clouds covering the planet convulsed, releasing bursts of thunder. Then they began to break up. Painfully slowly, the atmosphere began to change, the sky turning from black and red to blue. A chain reaction began converting the toxic fumes to breathable air. In a few hours, anyone would be able to walk outside without a breather.

David fell to his knees, watching the screen before him. “Angels preserve us … How …?”

Knight snorted. “Don’t think this means I want to go back there.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

October 14th, 3096 EY

The Ark is mine and I find myself reluctant to hand it over to Galizur. I know what I was hired to do, but somehow I fear QI will abuse this technology as badly as Jericho would have. There is more here than I ever imagined. It is not just the knowledge to reshape the universe, but a ship with the power to do so directly. And while I cannot allow it to fall into the wrong hands, I am left with the lingering question of what right I have to this relic.

Sometimes, Rachel felt the Ark in her mind, even when she slept. It spoke to her, whispering things she couldn’t quite remember on waking. It carried with it the sense of vast ancientness, of a being that had watched stars being born and seen them go out.

David said he could feel its presence, too. Not Knight, though. He claimed not to feel anything. Maybe only Psychs could pick it up.

He walked by her side now, as she explored the depths of the ship. They’d spent days doing this and only scratched the surface. David had returned to the Logos, feeling he had to report the situation to the Tabernacle. Rachel had followed the Sentinel ship through the Conduit and away from Gehenna, not eager to be around if Jericho came back in force.

David had agreed to let her keep the Ark, for now. Which was just as well. She had no intention of handing it over to them, although she’d allowed Leah to come aboard to study this strange organic tech. This was centuries, maybe millennia ahead of the organic tech Jericho had developed. The technology to build the Ark itself, to say nothing of its power or knowledge, that alone would be worth killing over.

“Do you still want me to take you to New Rome?” she asked Knight.

He grunted. “I suspect you may need protection in the future.”

She tried not to smile. She was getting used to having him around anyway. She could feel he still wanted her, but beneath it, some part of him had accepted their relationship as it was. And she was glad of it—he was the friend she needed. And he was right, she was likely to need him again.

“Besides,” he said. “It’s expensive to live there. I assume you’re going to keep paying me.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, then paused before a door. It didn’t open when she approached, as most on the ship did. She pressed her hand on the panel and it revealed a keypad with symbols again. Odd. She thought she’d opened all the locks from the bridge.

She tapped in the same code she’d used to activate the ship. The symbols spun, whirring, and something inside the door clicked. Then it whooshed open, revealing a chill chamber saturated with mist. The chamber went back farther than she could see, and Knight felt suddenly pensive. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, then stepped through himself.

She followed him inside, and he wove through the mist to a large tube of some sort, iced over. Knight wiped the frost away with his glove, revealing the contents.

At first she thought it was a person. Then she stepped up, closer. The being inside was humanoid, but had cybernetic … wings. Other pieces of machinery poked through its frozen flesh in a few places.

It was impossible. This couldn’t be real.

More tubes lined the chamber. Rachel ran down the hall, wiping away the frost of a few more.

A cold seeped inside her chest, darker and more freezing than the mist sweeping over her legs.

More than a hundred cryogenic chambers.

And inside each—an Angel.

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The story continues with Shadows of Angels.

Rachel has found the Angel's Ark, and the knowledge contained within is even more vast than she'd expected. It could revolutionize mankind's existence--and more than Rachel know it. Countless factions war with each other to take it from her. Rachel dares not let anyone possess such a weapon, but her enemies will stop and nothing to gain this power for themselves. Including use those closest to her.

She has only one person left to rely on: the Gehennan mercenary, Knight, a former assassin of terrifying brutality. But before he can save Rachel, Knight must overcome the shadows of his own past.

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Author’s Note

Years before I sat down to write Echoes of Angels, I conceived of a sci-fi setting in the far future, an age of high technology and unending conflict. Over time, this setting merged in my mind with a setting inspired by angels, angel lore, and other Semitic mythology.

I started designing this work as it now stands in 2008, but set it aside to work on my fantasy novels until 2013. And, God, am I glad I finally got back to it.

Special thanks to my awesome editor and first reader, Brenda. Thanks to my beta readers Eryn and Ginny. Thanks to Andrew for physics fact checking. And thanks to Juhi for a great cover and being a great wife.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Who am I? I’m a writer who loves speculative fiction, especially epic fantasy. I adore mythology and history, and those passions inspire most of my works. I studied philosophy in college, then publishing. More importantly, I went backpacking in India where I met my future wife, Tarannum “Juhi.” She supports pretty much all my crazy obsessions, like writing novels, so I started Incandescent Phoenix Books, and she eventually became my graphic designer. We’re a husband-and-wife team, which is pretty much the coolest thing ever.

I pretty much love to hear from readers, so feel free to email me at matt@incandescentphoenix.com.

If you loved this book and have a moment to spare, I’d really appreciate a short review wherever you bought the book. Every review makes a world of difference.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Glossary

Adversary, The: In the 22nd century, the Adversary attacked Earth and annihilated three quarters of the human race. Mankind was rescued by the Angels, who drove off the Adversary. Earth was left a smoldering wasteland.

Angels: Divine beings possessing advanced technology. They saved mankind from the Adversary then ruled humanity for the next 2500 before vanishing.

Asheran Confederacy: A loose alliance of worlds that rules the Triangulum Galaxy, Pisces Dwarf Galaxy, Phoenix Dwarf Galaxy, and IC1613 Galaxy. Asherah is engaged in a cold war with Mizraim, and is generally feared because of rumors they violate the Commandments.

Biomesh: Biomesh combines nanobots with biologically engineered living armor, generally capable of performing both self-repair and cellular repair of the one wearing it.

Biomesh technology was designed by the scientist Apollo, for Jericho Corp.

Conduit, The: All faster-than-light communication and travel is made possible via a network of wormholes called the Conduit. The Conduit supports travel to any system in the Local Group, if one knows the routes. However, these routes are extremely complex and dangerous to the untrained. In order to navigate the Conduit, a person must have at least minor ESP, which means Psychs are essential to interstellar travel. The Conduit itself also amplifies psionic effects.

The Conduit can be accessed through Conduit Gates, usually located on the edge of a system. These systems also include relays for communication and quantum information storage, known as the Mazzaroth.

Conglomerate: An alliance of seven megacorps that exists as its own sovereign entity. The members are Quasar Industries, Jericho Corp, Laban Worlds, Shiza Security, Manna Products, Zebulun, and the Redeemers.

Covenant: The first book of the Codex—a holy book presented to humanity by the Angels. It details the Exodus from Eden following the wrath of the Adversary, as well as denoting the Commandments.

1. Man shall not alter the form of man. (A general prohibition against cybernetics and genetic engineering of humans by humans)

2. Man shall adhere to the bounds of the Conduit. (Do not attempt to use it to violate causality or access other universes)

3. Man shall populate the universe. (Have lots of kids)

Days of Glory: A period (of 2500 years) in which the Angels ruled mankind directly. Ended with the Vanishing.

Eden: The original homeworld of mankind. It was left a wasteland after the Adversary attacked, leading to a diaspora across the Local Group called the Exodus.

Gibborim: The Shadow Council that rules Gehenna has long enforced its oligarchy through a group of elite assassins called the Gibborim. They are masters of infiltration and hand-to-hand combat.

Gravitomagnetic Tech: All ship designs larger than fighters are powered by Singularity Drives—miniature black holes contained in the ships. The Singularity Drive (SD) provides sufficient power to propel a ship through space.

Artificial gravity is achieved on crafts and space stations via gravitomagnetic energies generated by the Singularity Drive. On a spacecraft, this technology also creates a gravitational field opposing the acceleration, called Inertia Negation.

Other technology includes lesser-powered gravitic field generators that can dilate gravity, lessening its effects (called Gravity Dilators or GDs), or set the field relative to a new surface (called Gravity Relativizers or GRs), which would allow someone to walk on vertical surfaces.

Ion Cannon: Ion Cannons fire a directed beam of ionized particles at near relativistic speeds, carrying virtually unmatched destructive power. They are used on battleships. The Asheran Confederacy also use handheld ion rifles. The handheld versions require high power consumption and thus get few shots. They are also less effective at close range due to the explosive impacts.

Khapiru: A term for an outcast who has violated the Commandments. Redeemers typically name anyone who opposes them khapiru.

Magnetic Accelerator Guns (MAGs): Magnetics Accelerator Guns are kinetic energy weapons that use electromagnetic accelerators to propel miniature slugs at supersonic velocities, delivering enormous kinetic impact. These weapons form the most common type of weaponry available in the Local Group, and are used by the Asheran Confederacy, most corps, and private security firms. Quasar Industries developed a large variety of MAGs, the current most popular sidearm being the Endbringer Mk 3, a semiautomatic railgun pistol with a capacity of 80 rounds.

Mazzaroth: The Mazzaroth allows communication between systems via quantum relays accessing the Conduit, and also constitutes an intergalactic internet.

Merkabah: A fighting style unique to Sentinels, generally considered the most efficient form of hand-to-hand combat known to man.

Mizraim: The Mizraim Empire is the preeminent civilization of humanity throughout the Local Group, and claims to be the legitimate heir of the Angels. The Empire is governed by a mobile space platform capable of accessing the Conduit, called the Tabernacle. At the heart of the Tabernacle is a sentient computer called the Shekhinah, which effectively rules the Empire, supposedly on behalf of the Angels. The Shekhinah acts through its agents, the ruling body of twenty-three Imperators collectively called the Sanhedrin. Each Imperator is responsible for one or more galaxies within the Local Group.

The Mizraim Empire is upheld by its military and police force called the Sentinels. Sentinels possess the highest level of combat training ever known to man, and the greatest technology available to the human race. However, as heirs to the Angels, they do not violate the Commandments.

Monofilament Weaponry: A monofilament weapon, primarily made into knives or swords, uses a monomolecular edge of carbon nanotubes. Such edges can sever molecular bonds and are thus capable of cutting through most substances, but not other monofilament edges. These weapons are uncommon in most of the universe, but popular on Gehenna due to an atmosphere that interferes with MAGs.

Nanomesh: Nano armor consists of a physical piece of clothing composed of some kind of fiber mesh infused with nanobots designed to absorb kinetic and directed energy and repair damage to the armor. Commonly these include Nanomesh Coats, Nanomesh Suits, and Nanomesh Vests.

Knight wears a nanomesh long coat, buttoned across the chest, which is enough to protect him from glancing shots from a MAG. A direct hit would likely still cause serious injury, if not prove fatal.

Psych: A psychic blessed with one or more of the four psionic gifts—ESP, Empathy, Telepathy, or Telekinesis. One of the Races of Man, although this is a misnomer as Psychs appear among the other Races.

Pulse Weaponry: Pulse weaponry was developed by Quasar Industries exclusively for Sentinels in 3075 and it remains illegal for anyone else to own or operate these weapons. In the last twenty years, pulse weaponry has become ubiquitous among Sentinels as the standard sidearm (pulse pistol), heavy assault weapon (pulse rifle), and ship armament (pulse cannon).

A pulse weapon is similar to a MAG, in that it uses an electromagnetic accelerator to fire, but instead of a slug, it fires a pulse of plasma. This is a superheated ionized gas cloud that carries enormous thermal and kinetic energy. The current Sentinel sidearm model, the Rapture, fires semiautomatically or full auto (15 RPS) with a capacity of 250 rounds. A single shot has enough energy to burn through flesh and most thin materials. Heavier pulse weapons can punch through most materials, or detonate explosively. Pulse weaponry is very good at overwhelming kinetic shields.

Races of Man: During the Days of Glory Angels maintain numerous eugenics and genetic engineering projects designed to adapt different bloodlines to extreme environment. The results are collectively called the eleven Races of Man: Norms, Amphies, Anakim, Cold-Worlders (Icies), Emites, Gog, Magog, Psychs, Smoggers, Smolders, and Whispers. Rumors exist of an apocryphal twelfth race, the Nephilim.

Redeemers: A religious fundamentalist group determined to keep humanity in line with the wishes of the Angels in their absence. A member of the Conglomerate.

Sentinel Suits: Sentinel suits are an advanced form of full body Nanomesh Suits. These formfitting armor suits feature retractable helmets capable of supporting the Sentinel in space or underwater for up to two hours. The legs are designed to form around a sidearm, and present a seamless holster when desired. Sentinel suits have advanced kinetic shielding that protects the wearer against small arms fire.

Some Sentinel suits, such as David and Phoebe's, are also outfitted with gravity relativizers that allow them to walk on walls or maintain normal movement in zero-G.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Dedication

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Echoes of Angels

Chapter One ￼

Chapter Two ￼

Chapter Three ￼

Chapter Four ￼

Chapter Five ￼

Chapter Six ￼

Chapter Seven ￼

Chapter Eight ￼

Chapter Nine ￼

Chapter Ten ￼

Chapter Eleven ￼

Chapter Twelve ￼

Chapter Thirteen ￼

Chapter Fourteen ￼

Chapter Fifteen ￼

Chapter Sixteen ￼

Chapter Seventeen ￼

Chapter Eighteen ￼

Chapter Nineteen ￼

Chapter Twenty ￼

Chapter Twenty-One ￼

Chapter Twenty-Two ￼

Chapter Twenty-Three ￼

Chapter Twenty-Four ￼

Chapter Twenty-Five ￼

Chapter Twenty-Six ￼

Chapter Twenty-Seven ￼

Chapter Twenty-Eight ￼

Chapter Twenty-Nine ￼

Chapter Thirty ￼

Chapter Thirty-One ￼

Chapter Thirty-Two ￼

Chapter Thirty-Three ￼

Chapter Thirty-Four ￼

Chapter Thirty-Five ￼

Chapter Thirty-Six ￼

Chapter Thirty-Seven ￼

Chapter Thirty-Eight ￼

Chapter Thirty-Nine ￼

Chapter Forty ￼

Chapter Forty-One ￼

Chapter Forty-Two ￼

Chapter Forty-Three ￼

Chapter Forty-Four ￼

Chapter Forty-Five ￼

Chapter Forty-Six ￼

Chapter Forty-Seven ￼

Chapter Forty-Eight ￼

Chapter Forty-Nine ￼

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Author's Note

About the Author

Chapter Fifty