Wrath of Angels, page 2
part #4 of Sins of Angels Series
3
“The Adversary’s predations before the arrival of the angels left mankind weak and few of number. The Third Commandment is proof against extermination. Our gift to mankind is the pleasure of fulfilling that edict. For what man and woman might shirk from as a duty, they might flock to as recreation. Thus will your own inclinations preserve you. Merely obey them.”
The Codex, Book of Barachiel
THE TABERNACLE, NEW ROME
The only light in the inner chamber came from a central pillar Knight assumed was the Shekhinah itself. A nest of thick, black cables ran from the pillar into the walls of the circular room. Faint red illumination seeped from small openings in the pillar.
Despite the darkness, Knight could see. He had always had good night vision, but this was something else. He could clearly see the maze of cables as they twisted around each other like a den of snakes. He could see the conduits on the wall where those cables disappeared. Was it possible Raziel’s experiments had done something to his eyes as well?
David saluted the pillar, then stood at attention. Utterly ridiculous. “David MacGregor, reporting.”
A sound of mechanical whirring fired inside the pillar, so faint, he wondered if the others had even heard it.
Then a voice spoke. “Ezekiel Knight.” The feminine voice sounded hollow, and it echoed off the chamber as though coming from all directions. In fact, Knight had a faint sensation it was not a single voice but that of several in perfect unison.
A beam of light shot from the pillar and swept over him, scanning his body from head to toe in an instant. “Your bloodline is confirmed,” the computer said. “Your genetic structure can only have resulted from an angel eugenics project.”
“Yeah, I got that already.”
“Knight!” David said through clenched teeth.
The computer whirred briefly. “Such a bloodline represents an invaluable resource to the Mizraim Empire. You are hereby ordered to uphold the Third Commandment and reproduce as frequently as possible, with as many partners as are available.”
Well … okay. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
Phoebe slapped his ass. “Really? As many partners as are available? You may find that number fairly limited. One at the most, I think. Depending on your behavior. Actually, that probably means none.”
“Rachel Jordan,” the machine said, apparently ignoring anything further Knight might have to say on the matter. “You are prepared to turn over to the Sentinels all knowledge related to the Ark and any secrets it may have led you to?”
And this was where they came to it, in the end.
Rachel said she was going to cooperate, but for as long as he’d known her, it was never her style. She distrusted any authority as if on principle, and this thing appeared to be the ultimate authority in Mizraim. It kind of boggled the mind that an Empire ruling trillions of people was itself ruled by a computer. If Rachel was right, the thing had created the Empire by appointing itself the legitimate successor to the angels. It had recruited the Sentinels to enforce its order and created the Sanhedrin to give a human face to its rule. Where Knight came from, humans created machines and used them, not the other way around.
Phoebe’s jest aside, he wasn’t entirely certain he liked being told to breed by a machine. Not that he didn’t want children—he surely did. Like anyone else—or almost anyone, excluding Rachel—he believed in the Third Commandment.
Until he’d met Rachel, he’d never even questioned why. People were supposed to have children. That’s what everyone was taught was the purpose of life, from the time they were children themselves.
Sometimes, he’d felt his life a failure because he had found no mate on Gehenna. And then he’d met Rachel, and she’d asked the damned question. The question he had never thought to ask in his whole life before that—why? Did he want children because he truly wanted them, or did he want children because he’d been taught to want them by others who had been taught the same thing?
Rachel had made his life a lot more complicated.
She breathed out a long sigh. “I am. I have agreed to commit myself fully to the Sentinels and their cause.”
“And you, Ezekiel Knight? Do you also agree?”
Knight nodded.
Phoebe squeezed his hand. “I think you have to speak,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Then the Shekhinah hereby bestows upon the both of you a field commission of the rank of lieutenant.”
“Wait, what?” Phoebe said. “He’s going to be the same rank as me? That’s a load of—”
David spun and silenced her with a glare. Knight chuckled, and David turned the look on him, making it even harder to keep a straight face. Knight squeezed Phoebe’s hand back, and she jerked it away, then folded her arms over her chest.
“David MacGregor, the Shekhinah hereby restores your commission and promotes you to the rank of captain. You are ordered to take command of the Wheel of Law and to take that ship to the front against the Asheran Confederacy. Use all resources available, including the knowledge of Rachel Jordan, to eliminate the threat. Be certain to ensure the survival of Ezekiel Knight and arrange for as many females on your ship to breed with him as possible.”
“What?” Phoebe stomped her foot. “What the bloody void kind of—”
David shot her another look, and Leah put a hand on her shoulder.
Knight decided nothing he could possibly say would improve the situation, so he kept his mouth shut.
“I request to take Lieutenant Commander Suzuki and Lieutenant Dana with me as new crew for the Wheel of Law,” David said.
“Your request is granted. You are dismissed.” Further mechanical whirring sounded from the pillar, and then the door to the chamber opened.
Knight slipped out of the stifling room the moment he could. A pressure was building inside his chest, inside his head. Years of training told him he had to always appear strong and in control, so he forced himself not to stumble or lean on anyone. His mind controlled his body. It was his choice whether to let weakness take over.
Raziel had turned him into a breeding commodity. While the thought of women lining up outside his room, waiting to sleep with him was amusing—and arousing—it left a hollow pit in his stomach. Because maybe Rachel was right about the Third Commandment. About … everything. She’d been right about the angels and all they’d done to him. And now, this Shekhinah, their legacy, was trying to breed him like livestock. And the thought made him lightheaded.
Rachel turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder, supporting him. Damn empath could sense his unease.
“Hey, don’t think you’re going to be mating with him either!” Phoebe said. “This is fucking ridiculous!”
Rachel rolled her eyes and released Knight with a sigh.
He nodded at her. “I’m fine.” Then he turned to Phoebe. “And you have nothing to worry about.”
Leah cleared her throat. “This isn’t really the place for this.”
“Aye,” David said and led them back out of the chamber.
Outside, the Sentinels saluted. “Captain MacGregor.” How the void did they already know? Was the Shekhinah in communication with them? “We are to escort you to the Wheel of Law.”
David returned the salute and motioned everyone to follow. The Sentinels led the way. Knight supposed he would have to stop thinking of them as the Sentinels. He was one of them now.
“You didn’t tell it about Raziel,” he whispered to Rachel.
“David and I agreed no one can know,” she whispered back. “I guess we’ll be transferring the … cargo to our new ship in secret.”
So they were still taking the angel with them. That was just fantastic.
4
“Money can’t buy happiness. I’ve got plenty, and I’ve tried. The best you can do is rent it once in a while.”
Caleb Gavet, to his head of galactic operations, upon requesting a raise
TRIANGULUM GALAXY
Caleb sat on his bed in the Empyrean Throne, Jericho’s flagship, idly stroking Rebekah’s naked back.
Victory had been in his grasp, and it had been snatched away once again. He suspected Rachel Jordan. The girl had gone from a minor annoyance to an enduring nemesis he couldn’t quite squash. He doubted he’d ever had more dislike for someone he’d never met. The Ark would have been his; it was his. And then, without warning, a hundred angels had showed up and taken over the ship.
After the shock had faded, Caleb was forced to call Apollo again. The man had threatened Caleb’s family unless he acquired the Ark, and without it, he had nothing to cow Apollo with. But the scientist had seemed less shocked than Caleb would have expected at the news. His face never faltered.
“You will take your ship and go to Asherah. Contact Aluf Mishma Lamport, and work together to secure the Ark against this new threat.”
And Apollo had cut the line.
So Apollo had contacts in the Asheran Confederacy. The military, no less. An aluf was a general, as near as Caleb knew. Or part general, part dictator might be more accurate. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. It would explain where Apollo had learned so much about cybernetics. The Asherans had long since abandoned the Commandments including the First. Rumors abounded that nearly every citizen, or least any with wealth, had some amount of cybernetic enhancements on them.
Redeemers—in fact, most of Mizraim—would call cyborgs the worst of all khapiru. They would call them anathema that needed to be destroyed. Redeemers didn’t wash the sins of cyborgs. Such creatures were beyond saving, they believed.
Of course, Caleb was one of them.
Apollo had first replaced his eyes with cybernetic implants. Caleb could see in near total darkness, scan information for future use, make video recordings, and—his favorite trick—use his vision to scan through ladies’ clothes and see the flesh beneath. After the eyes, Apollo had put some kind of chip in Caleb’s head—supposedly to block telepaths from scanning him. Caleb had his doubts.
He sighed.
The Throne was headed for Asheran space. If the Sentinels had any idea what he was about, they’d hunt him down and destroy him at any cost. An alliance between the Conglomerate, or even one megacorp, and the Asheran Confederacy would prove devastating to Mizraim. He supposed that was Apollo’s plan. Create chaos and sweep in to pick up the pieces.
To the victor go the spoils.
And Caleb was a fool to have ever started down this road. He should have taken Ayelet and the kids and fled to some backwater world where he could live a normal life.
Of course, he was kidding himself. Even if he was satisfied with an average existence—and he wouldn’t be—Ayelet would never accept one. Not after tasting the benefits of extreme wealth. No, he’d let his family become accustomed to life at the top, and now he had to keep them there.
“Captain Ellis to Mr. Gavet.”
Caleb frowned, then tapped his comm. “Gavet here. Go ahead, Captain.”
“We’ve arrived at the system you designated. An Asheran leviathan is drawing up alongside us.”
A leviathan. God help them. Caleb blew out a long breath before answering. “Extend an invitation to the aluf. I’ll meet him in the observation deck in half an hour.”
Caleb cut the comm and glanced down at Rebekah. He briefly considered whether they had time for a quick romp but decided there was no way. Instead, he went to the armoire and grabbed his fanciest coat. Black. He always looked good in black.
Rebekah stirred as he dressed but didn’t wake. Caleb sighed, then bent and kissed the back of her head. “Sorry for getting you into this too.”
He left and took the lift up. The observation deck was a dome atop the Empyrean Throne, just above the bridge. Reinforced smart glass gave them a 360-degree view of space around them. This system was uninhabited, but from it one could see a brilliant fiery nebula, like a vision of heaven itself. Maybe Lamport chose the system for that reason. Maybe it was just a convenient meeting place, right inside Asheran space.
Of course, Asheran space was now expanding. The Confederacy had begun a push into Mizraim territory, starting with the outlaying galaxies like Andromeda II. An initial offensive had gone well for Asherah, he’d heard. At least until the Sentinels showed up in force. The self-righteous police and military force that guarded Mizraim had a justified reputation as the finest fighting force in history. Caleb had hoped to match them with Gibbor cyborgs, but he’d had to all but abandon that project after the disaster on Gehenna.
One more thing to blame Rachel Jordan for.
A few minutes later, the lift whirred again, reappeared. A man strode forward, flanked by four guards. Three men and one woman. Each guard had silver armor that looked like skin. On their faces, metal protrusions stuck out from their real skin. Caleb couldn’t tell whether the silver was grafted to them, some kind of form-fitting armor, or an actual cybernetic replacement of part of their bodies. The woman had purple hair, and he caught himself fantasizing about trying to get her out of that armor—it left so little to the imagination.
The aluf himself wore heavier armor, chrome colored, with a helm that boasted a cross of glowing light instead of a faceplate. The man stalked forward and offered a hand, and Caleb realized his arms weren’t armored—they were cybernetic replacements. Machines. Blatant cybernetics.
Caleb took his hand and shook it. He’d feared the man would try to give some crass demonstration of strength, but the aluf didn’t squeeze his hand, just shook it like a normal person.
“Welcome to the Empyrean Throne, Aluf.” Caleb waved for the man to sit with him at the table.
As they did so, he noticed the guards had some kind of spinal grafts protruding from their backs. He couldn’t say what the implants were doing, but he doubted it would be good. A sudden thought flashed through his mind. Could Apollo be one of these people? Was he working for Asherah, subverting the Conglomerate to bring their ends closer together? It made all too much sense. He’d played Caleb, teasing him with technological advancements, while really pursuing Asheran ends.
“Aluf Lamport, I am certain you’ve heard by now the rumors that the Ark has been taken by angels.”
“I have.”
“I suspect Asherah, even more than Jericho Corp, does not want to see a return of the Days of Glory.”
The man raised an eyebrow like that went without saying. Since the angels would likely destroy every cyborg in existence, Caleb supposed it did.
“What I propose is simple—an alliance between the Confederacy and the Conglomerate. We work together to take down Mizraim, and then, when we find the Ark, we take it back from the angels and ensure the Days of Glory remain behind us.”
The aluf nodded. “And the end result for you? Your ultimate goal, Mr. Gavet?”
To the point. Caleb liked that. “Exclusive and favorable trade agreements for Jericho Corp with Asherah. And, of course, you will help ensure Jericho becomes the leading voice of the entire Conglomerate.”
Besides, it was in Caleb’s best interest to see the angels, the Commandments, and the Sentinels all buried.
“You are one of us,” Lamport said.
Caleb stiffened. Had the man been able to scan him for cybernetics? Some kind of internal sensors—or cybernetic eyes with more features than Caleb’s own? Maybe that had been Apollo’s plan all along in convincing Caleb to accept cyber eyes. One more layer of the trap. “Indeed. So you know we share common interests.”
The aluf stood and offered his hand again. “So we do.”
5
“Unto man was given that which might educate him, for like children that must first learn before handling the tools of adults, humanity was in its infancy. Given growth and evolution, only time sits between man and the greater mysteries.”
Sefer Raziel, translated by Dr. Rachel Jordan
NOVEMBER 17, 3096 EY — MILKY WAY GALAXY
“Are you sure about this, pretty boy?” Phoebe asked.
Knight ran a hand through his hair. It was long, reaching almost to his shoulders. He’d grown it out since he’d left the Gibborim. He’d become a mercenary. Rachel had called his hair, his style, an affectation. And she was right. God, he was getting tired of realizing how many things she’d been right about.
He had been a selfish fool, caring only about himself and sulking in sorrow over the wrongs done to him. But the holy universe was bigger than that. While Knight ran around Gehenna murdering anyone in his way, Rachel had traveled the known universe trying to save mankind. And if she’d made mistakes, at least she made them for the right reasons.
Knight wasn’t sure he had ever done anything for the right reasons. At least not until he’d decided to save Rachel.
“Do it,” he said.
Phoebe shrugged. “Yup, yup. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She sprayed a mist of nanobots over his hair. At once, they began eating it away, trimming it to the military cut she’d programmed. It tingled a little.
“You know,” she said when it was done, “I actually really liked the tangled mess the way it was.”
“You probably should have said that before letting loose the nanobots.”
“Yup, yup. Better late than never.” She blew on his head, spraying stray hairs around the room.
Knight closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was time he left his old life behind. He was no longer Gibbor, and he hadn’t been in a long time. He was not an assassin. He wasn’t the mercenary anymore. Rachel no longer paid him for protection. And yet, here he was, by her side, a part of her crusade.
He stood and grabbed an undershirt to put on, then drew up his Sentinel uniform. It re-formed right over his undershirt, the nanomesh almost instantly reconstructing itself. The black-on-black uniform of those who served. Military, a real military. Just as he now had real quarters on this battleship, a real commission. He slid a finger up the seam of the jacket, and the nanobots bonded, sealing it airtight.
