Voices of Angels: Sins of Angels, #3

1

From time to time, the human mind will slip the details of the angels’ message. This is understandable and forgivable. But it will also lead to sin. Keep the Codex always at hand. Read it until its words stay with you. The Codex will guide you. Always.

THE CODEX, BOOK OF BARACHIEL

OCTOBER 9, 3096 — FORNAX DWARF GALAXY

The cryogenic chamber

seemed to stretch on endlessly. Row after row of frozen angels. Rachel’s breath misted the air as she walked through the hall for the thousandth time since she’d found this place. Six hundred years ago the angels had vanished without explanation, leaving mankind to their own devices. Some claimed they had returned to heaven now that mankind was safe from the Adversary. Some claimed they had traveled into deep space, beyond the Local Group.

All were lies.

They had frozen themselves in suspended animation.

Why?

These days, the Ark touched her mind even in her waking hours. It showed her the wonders of the universe—the birth of stars and nebulae, the death of whole planets as stars went nova. But it offered no answers for the question that burned in her mind, night and day.

Why would the angels freeze themselves?

The Ark supposedly held all the secrets of the angels, but after three weeks, she had yet to unlock even a fraction of them. She paused before a frozen angel. The creature looked human—almost. Cybernetics poked through her skin, including, most obtrusively, massive metal wings.

The First Commandment said, Man Shall Not Alter the Form of Man. That apparently didn’t apply to angels cybering themselves. What would the rest of humanity think when they learned angels were cyborgs?

Farther down the hall, she could hear Leah Suzuki examining one of these things.

Rachel wore a thick parka in here. Leah’s Sentinel suit seemed to keep the rahab warm enough. Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to make of the other woman. Apparently she was David’s best friend, except he’d never mentioned her, not that Rachel remembered.

Rahabim were humans whose ancestors were engineered by the angels for subsea mining. And that was fine. Rachel had no problem with any of the Races of Man—except for maybe the gog and magog.

What bothered her were Leah’s guarded but definite feelings for David. Whenever he was around, Rachel could feel that hint of jealousy coming off Leah, that whisper of a desire the rahab probably couldn’t even admit to herself.

As an empath, Rachel sometimes found herself privy to things she’d rather not know.

Rachel pushed her hair back under the parka. Had the two of them slept together? Best friends in the service … it shouldn’t surprise her if they had. It wasn’t like she and David had been together at the time.

Void, she wasn’t sure they were together now.

He’d rescued her from Sentinel custody—from torture under Captain Waller—and she could feel his love for her. But everything with David was so complex. The very history they shared made it that much more difficult to move on.

And so Rachel pretended it was just sex between them. He wanted more, she knew he did. David had always wanted children, and even this morning, the subtle pressures he put on her wore her down.

He talked fondly of helping raise his youngest sister on New Rome. After his mother had fallen in the line of duty, David had to help his father keep the family together.

Of course, she knew she was being unfair to him. Taking him into her bed and embracing him in the night, then pushing him away in the morning.

Like she’d done to Knight. She’d slept with him, then spurned him in favor of David. She had a habit of hurting those closest to her, but for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to break free of it.

How could she settle down with David when there was so much more to do? When humanity was still mired in its own self-delusion and ignorance?

She approached Leah and knelt beside the Sentinel. Learned anything?

From what I can tell, Leah said, they’re basically human. Take away the cybernetics and possibly divergent evolution, and we could be related. I can’t get a proper genetic sample without opening one up, of course.

Can you do that?

Leah shrugged. I could probably wake one up, yes.

Wake him up? Void no! Rachel stood. "No way in the holy universe do we want those … those things awake, Leah."

But they’re angels … Genuine confusion wafted off Leah, which only made it all the more irritating.

Exactly. Rachel thumped the cryo tube with her finger. These pricks saved us, right? And then used that as an excuse to rule us with an iron first for the next two and a half millennia. They indoctrinated mankind to believe only what we were told, and then they left us to our own devices. And now we are still, six hundred years later, mired in traditions enforced on us! She thumped the tube again. All the chaos and death in the universe right now, we can trace back to them. They gave Mizraim and Asherah a reason for war.

Leah smiled, shaking her head. Damn her and her smug amusement, anyway. He said you were like that.

Oh, so David had talked about her, did he? He’d discussed her with Leah. It meant she’d been on his mind this whole time? Just like he’d been on hers. So why couldn’t she just settle down with him and move on? She couldn’t think of a single good reason for torturing herself. Except for her mission …

So the angels are aliens?

I don’t know. I mean, they look a lot like us. The rahab rose. I can’t learn much more about them without opening a tube. And it’s your ship.

Damn right it was.

"So I guess you should head back to the Logos."

Leah hesitated, as if weighing something. You’re a psych who’s been on a living ship for an extended period. Maybe I should examine you. We don’t know what effect extended contact with this alien being will have on you.

It would have been easier to blow the rahab off if Rachel couldn’t sense genuine concern layered underneath the other woman’s jealousy. Sometimes being an empath made life too complicated. It was hard to hate someone who cared about you despite her own heart. Thanks, Leah. But I’m fine. Tell David I’m fine. I’m sure he’s the one who put you up to this, right?

Leah sighed and left, heading toward the hangar.

The rahab was loyal to David, and David was loyal to Rachel. To a point. But everyone was still going to want this ship.

Rachel didn’t have to be a prophet to know a storm was coming.

2

"The first Tribulation-class battleship rolled out in 3081 EY, launched ahead of schedule as a result of the Balthazar Incident. These battleships represent the most concentrated destructive power the Sentinels have ever harnessed. Featuring 80 MAG cannons, 10 pulse cannons, 4 ion cannons, 30 defensive laser batteries, and 200 antimatter missile tubes, a Tribulation can render the average planet lifeless in under two minutes."

SENTINEL HOLY MANDATE

FORNAX DWARF GALAXY

The Logos’s

bridge had become oppressive. When David had been executive officer, the chair had been a place of comfort, of power. Now he ran the whole battleship, and every time he came up here, he felt guilty. Dirty.

He’d betrayed his uniform.

At least, a part of him always felt that. Captain Waller had broken Mizraim law, so David had done what he had to. He’d led the mutiny against Waller, relieved him of command, and sent him off to the Tabernacle for judgment. But somehow, David still felt like a usurper. A criminal.

Maybe it was the utter silence of the Sanhedrin. He’d expected the fallout of his choices to be sudden. Instead, no one had so much as contacted him.

Since sending Waller off, David had been guiding the Ark through the Conduit, helping Rachel run from the Conglomerate, and awaiting his fate. And in the meantime, teaching Knight almost every trick he knew. Yet another crime on his conscience. But Knight would be able to protect Rachel in the days to come, and David might not.

And after all David had done for Rachel, he’d be buggered if he let her fall now. She was his redemption—his hope. He had to believe, one day, she would be satisfied with her accomplishments. One day she would say enough and settle down with him.

He kept telling himself that.

Deep down, he knew that wasn’t Rachel. Sometimes he feared she’d be on a crusade until the day she died. And he wouldn’t let her face it alone—never again.

Rachel loved him—of that he had no doubt. He could see it in her eyes. He wasn’t much of an empath, but even he could feel it coming off her. And sometimes, in the Conduit, he could see the children they would have. A prescient vision of the things to come.

A possible future he had to believe in.

David shut his eyes and bid the images to wash over him. A warm room, near the top of a high-rise, filled with the scent of fresh baking bread. A young lass and lad, chasing each other around an ottoman. The lass had Rachel’s ochre eyes. David tried to touch the child, and the vision vanished.

Ephemeral, as always. But this was the clearest it had ever been. Perhaps his psionics were really becoming stronger.

But the future was fragile, ready to slip away at even a wee misstep. And David had made some great thunderous blunders.

Commander, Blaise said. The lieutenant commander startled him from his reverie. There’s a message for you from the Tabernacle.

Aye, at last. Maybe all the time in the Conduit had given him prescient insight to the coming message. Or maybe it was just that he spent every moment thinking of it, so it would have to come at a moment when it was on his mind.

Thank you, Mahlah. I’ll take it in the war room.

David left the bridge, but he didn’t turn on the Mazzaroth the minute he entered the neighboring room. After so long waiting for this, the moment was here. Judgment for his crimes.

David scratched his head and sat at the table. A second later, he stood. Face it on his feet.

Mazzaroth personal access, he said, at last. David MacGregor, code Duress 92G.

The screen flashed on, revealing a recorded message. They didn’t even want to talk to him live.

"Commander David MacGregor, you are hereby ordered to immediately report to the Tabernacle for court martial. Return to New Rome with all possible haste, and turn over command of the Logos."

The transmission cut off.

3

We are known throughout the holy universe for our signature fighting style—Merkabah—the throne of God. We call it this because it demands from us a higher consciousness and a dedication befitting an enforcer of divine will. The first Sentinels developed Merkabah from the fusion of two primary styles out of Eden—Krav Maga and Jujitsu. No Sentinel leaves Hazaroth without achieving mastery of this art.

SENTINEL HOLY MANDATE

FORNAX DWARF GALAXY

Jumping

through the Conduit had hidden them from Jericho Corp and anyone else so far, but it wouldn’t last. Rachel had the Ark. The living angel ship was a repository of all their knowledge and power. It could terraform planets in hours. God only knew what else this ship could do.

The whole Conglomerate would be after it.

There was no way to keep something like that a secret. In a fit of grandeur, a self-important gesture, she’d terraformed the atmosphere of Gehenna to cleanse the toxic gases. And in so doing, she’d created a story that could never be contained. The entire universe knew about the Ark now. Which was good—the Redeemers could never keep such a secret buried. Except now, every faction from here to Triangulum was probably looking for her ship.

She’d promised it to Galizur at Quasar Industries but refused to deliver. Refused his calls, even. Sooner or later, the Conglomerate—and maybe the Sentinels—would come for the Ark.

Rachel trekked over to a cargo bay Knight had co-opted as a dojo. She couldn’t really pay him anymore—her funds had run dry since her break with Galizur—but her Gehennan bodyguard had stuck around. He claimed he was going to collect big when she got paid. Of course, she could feel his intense loyalty to her, so his bravado was pointless. And he knew she was an empath, so he had to know she saw through him. He persisted anyway. Maybe Knight’s airs were all he had left of his old life.

But then, they had all lost their old lives on Gehenna.

Shaking her head, Rachel slipped into the dojo where she found Knight and David, both shirtless, sparring. Both had tight, hard bodies from a lifetime of combat. Nanobot regeneration had left David with smooth skin, whereas dozens of scars crisscrossed Knight’s chest and abdomen.

So you’re saying Merkabah came from Eden? Knight asked as she walked in.

Undoubtedly both men knew she was there. As a rank four psych, David would feel her. And Knight … Knight just seemed to know. He was no psych, but he had an uncanny sense of his surroundings, born from a lifetime of training.

Not exactly, David said, indicating a maneuver. Merkabah was developed after the Exodus, but it evolved primarily as a fusion of styles known back on Eden. The refugees, those who became the first Sentinels, developed it to make certain no one could threaten humanity. They wanted something efficient and brutal.

Angels above, David was teaching Knight the Sentinel fighting style? That was supposed to be exclusive. Fast and focused on brutal counterattacks, Merkabah was never taught to outsiders.

David had once claimed Knight’s training, while good, was inferior to Sentinel training. Knight had those preternatural reflexes, speed no one else could match, but David, with help from Phoebe, had taken him down. So why teach Knight to become even more dangerous?

Of course, the answer was obvious.

David must be planning to leave.

He wanted Rachel’s bodyguard to stand the best chance of protecting her against whatever came their way. And it would come. The universe would come after them.

Rachel had begun to rekindle her relationship with David. And she’d found peace. Just the calm before the storm.

They would come to take it away from her.

And she could never let them have this ship. Any megacorp—any government that got their hands on the Ark—would force the rest of the universe to bow to their whims. A team of scientists would tear through the database and pry away angel secrets.

And that was what she wanted … to open the truth. But not just to a single company. The truth was the birthright of all humanity.

A company with such findings could become tyrants ruling the universe—as bad as the angels themselves. Rachel would not be responsible for ushering in a new oligarchy to subjugate mankind. Her mission was to free humanity from its chains, not forge new ones.

David twisted, flinging Knight to the mat. The Gehennan rolled with it, rising again in a single fluid motion.

They were both so fast. So strong.

And though neither looked at her, both wanted her. Their attraction soaked the air as much as the sweat on their bodies.

David moved to lock Knight, his intent to impress Rachel so strong she couldn’t miss it. Knight slipped under his grip and tripped him.

Embarrassment wafted off David for a brief instant.

And then they were both up, graceful and deadly.

A shudder ran through her. She ought to be focused on the more important things. But for once, all she wanted was to stand here and drink in the energy.

And pretend they were safe.

4

There is no greater cause than to lie atop the weak and shield their pains with your body.

THE CODEX, BOOK OF ZAQIEL

FORNAX DWARF GALAXY

David scratched

his head and blew out a long breath.

If he left now, Rachel would be defenseless. Knight could protect her, to some extent, but not from the entire universe.

But David had no choice, really. He’d sworn an oath. He was a Sentinel, and the Sentinel command had ordered him back. And the truth was, even if he wanted to hide, he couldn’t do it on the Logos. No Sentinel ship could hide from the Shekhinah. He could possibly escape on the Ark, and there was a wee part of him that was tempted, but it was a part he would silence.

Sentinels did as they were ordered to do.

And that time, he’d done what he had to do. Waller had tortured a Mizraim citizen—never mind it was Rachel—using Stigmata. It was a clear violation of the law, and he was justified in removing Waller from command. He could only pray the Sanhedrin would see it that way.

But the moment the Logos left, Rachel would be on her own. The Ark was powerful, but she was in way over her head. And he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Computer, he said, where are Lt. Dana and Lt. Commander Suzuki?

"Lt. Dana is in her quarters. Lt. Commander Suzuki is not aboard the Logos." Right. She was on the Ark.

He tapped the comm on his suit. MacGregor to Dana.

Captain Commander? Phoebe replied, hedging her bets on what he was called these days. Mister was sounding more and more likely since the Sanhedrin’s call for court martial.

Meet me in the hangar. We’re going to the Ark.

Yup, yup.

A few moments later, she joined him on a shuttle. David sat in the pilot’s seat, and Phoebe strapped herself in, watching him. We’re taking another crack at blondie? she asked. I’m all revved up for it, sir.

He eased the shuttle out of the hangar. No, lass. Can I trust you with a special mission?

Phoebe looked him dead in the eye. "That’s why they call us special forces, sir. In fact, they could call us the extra special forces."

Lieutenant.

Yes, sir. Shutting up, sir. Right now, sir.

"I’ve been ordered to bring the Logos back to the Tabernacle."

Phoebe nodded. So we’re heading to the Ark for a last bunk romp with Rachel before they lock us away? May I say, sir, I’m honored to be included for such a mission, but I don’t favor women.

David sighed. Have I warned you about that mouth, Phoebe?

Yes, sir. You’ve shown extreme irritation regarding my mouth in the past.

Aye, then shut it. I need you to watch over Rachel. Keep her from getting herself in too much trouble while I’m gone. God only knew how long that would be. She has a habit of it, you know. And Phoebe, despite her mouth, was the best officer he had for this kind of thing.

Sir. I helped with the mutiny. I’m culpable for my actions.

David shook his head. Another reason to have Phoebe gone. You were following my orders, based on the illegal actions of our captain. Any repercussions fall on my shoulders. Besides, I’m asking you for a favor, Phoebe.

I’m a Sentinel officer. I’m not backing away from that! You think I can’t handle the consequences of my own choices?

She had leaned unnervingly close to his face, to the point where he could smell the caramel on her breath. David was in no mood for it. He pushed her back by the shoulder and focused his attention on steering them toward the Ark. You think I’m letting you off easy? The Tabernacle might lock us up, but there are forces in play that would stop at nothing to acquire or destroy the Ark. Are you a coward?

Phoebe leaned back and sucked on her lip a moment. No, sir. I’ll do whatever you need.

She said nothing else when they landed and headed off to find quarters on the Ark immediately afterward. Just as well. He needed to see Rachel alone.

David found her on the bridge, seated in the command chair. The one with the narrow back, designed for angels. He’d seen the angels in the cryo chamber—of course he’d had to see them for himself. The experience left him shaken. To see an emissary of God, frozen like that … divinely perfect, with elegant features and glorious visage.

Gazing upon the angels made him feel small and guilty like a young lad peeping at a lass through her window. Those creatures were not meant for his eyes.

And they were cyborgs …

For certain, the First Commandment had been intended to regulate humans, not angels. But he’d never thought … why would they do something like that to themselves? Their very wings were cybernetic—metal razors