An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) (63 page)

“Don’t shoot! I—I’ll answer your questions…. No.”

“And after I responded to your message, saying I wanted Zadok’s opinion, you panicked? Decided you had to cover your tracks? Is that when you suggested I report to Zadok first?” He laughed softly at his own stupidity, pacing slowly before the crackling flames. “Then you hotfooted it to Zadok with the same story about Horeb that you’d fed me?”

Rathanial leaned forward suddenly and Jeremiel instinctively leveled the pistol at his heart. The Desert Father sat back, slowly. “Please, Jeremiel, the story about Horeb was true! Surely you’ve gathered that much?”

“You just left out the part that your wife was being held hostage by the Mashiah’s henchman. And the fact you needed a billion note prize to exchange for her freedom. Clever, Rathanial.” He smiled appreciatively. “Obviously it became necessary to kill Zadok, but Ezarin?”

“I didn’t kill Ezarin! And Zadok,” he murmured painfully, “Zadok’s death wasn’t my plan. Ornias feared he’d actually come to test Adorn—people here were clamoring for it—and discover he wasn’t the promised Redeemer. That would have ruined his whole plan.”

“But you didn’t see fit to tell Zadok an assassin had ridden to Horeb in
your own ship.
You—”

“Ornias would have killed Shassy! I couldn’t risk it!”

“Let me get this straight. You sold out the leader of Gamant civilization and the leader of the Underground movement to save your wife. Right?”

“Jeremiel, you don’t understand. I had no choice.”

“Uh-huh. Did you ever really plan on attacking the Mashiah, or did you assume that once I’d been delivered, Shassy would be returned and the whole annoying affair would be over?”

Rathanial clutched fistfuls of his flaxen robe, closing his eyes momentarily. When he spoke, a quaver touched his voice. “No. I didn’t plan on continuing the attack. My order is filled with inexperienced boys for the most part. I wouldn’t have risked them if I’d known Shassy was safe.”

“Compassionate of you.” He waved his pistol expressively. “And all the Old Believers? You didn’t care that Ornias was slaughtering them by the thousands?”

“Of course, I cared! That’s how I got into this mess! Shassy went into Seir to consult with the leaders of the rebellion. We desperately wanted to help them, to offer advice on how they could accomplish their goals nonviolently. Our order preaches
ahimsa,
Jeremiel. Violence is inconceivable, except as a last desperate resort. But—Shassy was captured and I—I couldn’t think straight.” He ran a quaking hand through his gray hair.

“You thought straight enough to plan several efficient murders. I hardly—”

“What would you have done?” he asked pleadingly, anguish twisting his aged face. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have risked thousands to save one.”

“Wouldn’t you?
If the woman you loved had been captured by your enemy and you—you knew she was in terrible danger unless you complied with the letter of his demands. If you knew she was probably being abused and …”

Rathanial continued, but Jeremiel didn’t hear. His ears rang with different sounds: Rudy screaming at him—fleeing people shrieking—gunfire. Snow whirled through the towering Silmar oaks as he ran headlong for the apartment building. Syene, naked, sprawled across the bed. “Love you …” her frail whisper echoed through him like a sword slash. “Knew … knew you’d come.”

A taloned claw constricted around his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He stared at the old man before him, seeing the agony in his dark eyes, hearing the terrible fear in his voice.

“I love her, Jeremiel. We’ve been married for fifteen years, clandestinely meeting in a series of small caves near the city. I couldn’t let Ornias hurt her. Don’t you understand?”

The pistol in his hand trembled. He gripped it tighter, reaiming at the elder’s chest as he exhaled haltingly, “And Rachel?”

“Purely accidental. I knew about her, of course. She and her husband were two of the people Shassy was supposed to talk to, but—”

“Why did you decide to use her after I objected?”

“When Ornias discovered I had her, he
ordered
me to send her to him. He wanted to use her as a lure. You see he … he knew about Syene Pleroma and he thought…”

Jeremiel’s jaw muscles hardened, his heart pounded sickeningly. “So you sent her in as a sacrificial lamb.”

“If there’d been another way, if I could have refused, I’d have …”

“Traitor.” The word echoed. Time seemed to do a flipflop. Scenes from Horeb transposed over those of Silmar.
I’ll kill him, Syene. I swear.

Rathanial’s voice faltered, eyes widening as Jeremiel’s finger tightened on the warm trigger.

He said nothing for a time, but their eyes held. Blood surged so powerfully in his ears, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind him, but he caught the frail look of relief that crossed Rathanial’s face.

“Baruch?”

Jeremiel’s spine went rigid. Had the old man set this up, too? No, Ornias wouldn’t have had the time to send an informant with the information that he’d escaped. Would he? He slowly turned to see Harper standing tall, his black halo of hair shimmering in the firelight, the rifle in his arms held expertly.

“God damn,” Jeremiel breathed. “I’m glad to see you’re alive.”

A faint smile curled Harper’s dark lips. “Glad you made it out, too. I was afraid I might have to pull off the war by myself.”

“You have the forces trained?”

“As trained as they’ll ever be. They’re rusty, but they’ll do, I think.”

He nodded once. “Sorry I didn’t realize earlier you were Zadok’s agent. If I’d known—”

“What?” Rathanial paled, eyes darting from one man to the other. “What do you mean, Zadok’s agent?”

“There are about thirty of us, Reverend Father,” Harper said nonchalantly. “The Patriarch took few chances—not even with you.” Then he turned back to Jeremiel and his dark eyes tightened. “Is Rachel still with us? How many casualties can we expect?”

Jeremiel heaved a sigh. “Rachel is an unknown at this point. The last time I saw her she seemed on the verge of collapse. Whether she’ll carry out her mission or not is in question.”

“Then we have to assume she’ll fail and plan accordingly.”

“Yes, I think that’s wise. Our first target should be Ornias. Perhaps a small guerrilla force could penetrate—”

“Let me help?” Rathanial pleaded. The collar of his flaxen robe gleamed darkly with sweat. “Please, the only way I can get Shassy out now is to help win the battle.”

“No.”

“But I know the palace. I can tell you—”

“No,” Jeremiel murmured savagely, gripping the pistol so tightly his hand ached. He wanted to kill, needed to. Even though a part of him cried out in understanding, he couldn’t forgive Rathanial’s treachery—any more than he could forgive Dannon’s. His damp finger caressed the trigger. “Harper, do we need this traitor for anything? Will he be useful?”

“He might. Especially if Ornias still believes
you
trust him.”

Jeremiel frowned. Then, as understanding dawned, he smiled grimly and reluctantly lowered his pistol. “I get your meaning. And I’m willing.”

“Good, we’d better hurry. I’m nearly certain Ornias plans to attack tomorrow. If he hits us first, we’re—”

“Yes.” Jeremiel reached out and gripped Rathanial’s arm, roughly shoving him toward the door. “If he strikes first and Rachel fails, we’re going to have a hell of a time.”

Harper nodded, running for the door.

“Where are you going?” Jeremiel shouted, disturbed by the man’s sudden retreat.

“I’ll meet you in the upper council chambers in a half hour. I’ve got a little friend to rescue.”

Halloway set the controls to initiate light vault and leaned back in her chair, staring at the forward screen. A tunnel of luminescent yellow formed, purple wavering around the edges. They hurtled headlong down it, going faster and faster. The ship lurched slightly as the stars disappeared.

“Vault attained,” she announced and checked her readouts to make sure the
Hoyer’s
status was stable. “Secure from blue alert.”

The bridge went through a brief flurry of activity, then grew ominously quiet as officers returned to their former tasks. She scanned the three-sixty monitors. Everything appeared perfectly normal, nothing out of the ordinary was happening anywhere—
except in her goddamned gut,
which felt like it was being lacerated by broken glass.

“I’m off duty, Richy,” she said and stood up. “Let me know if anything unusual happens.”

“Aye, Lieutenant,” he responded blandly without so much as looking at her.

She gave him a disgusted glance and headed for the transport tube. When the doors snicked shut, she ordered, “Level four.”

Doubts ate at her insides. What the hell were they doing? She used to have a clear idea of her mission with the Service. But now, she felt like nothing more than a moving piece on a government chessboard. No,
worse.
At least with chess she knew the game.

The tube stopped and she exited into the brightly lit hallway, eager to reach her room. Her steps slowed, however, when she rounded the corner and stood beside Tahn’s cabin.

He’d said he didn’t want to be disturbed. She folded her arms and paced quietly back and forth, considering. Finally, she hit the com button. “Captain? It’s Halloway.”

A pause.

“Just a minute, Lieutenant. Unless you want to see me stark naked.”

“I wouldn’t mind, Cole. But you know how people talk.”

Silence stretched. She paced again, her nervousness increasing as the seconds swept by.

Finally, his door slid back. Dressed casually, he braced a hand against the wall and gave her a questioning look. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

She kept her eyes from straying to his broad shoulders. The black silk shirt revealed every muscle. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”

“You’re off duty?”

“Yes.”

“Come in.”

He stepped aside and she entered. The door slipped shut behind her. His cabin was larger than hers. About twenty feet square, with a table and four chairs near the entry. A set of three bookshelves adorned the niche above them. His unkempt bed crowded against the far wall, beside his desk. The lights were turned low.

“I’m sorry to disturb you. I know you said—”

“Forget it, Carey. I couldn’t sleep anyway. I was on the verge of getting up and pouring a stiff scotch.” He crossed to the cabinet on the far wall. “Shall I pour two?”

“Damn well better.”

His brows drew together, eyes narrowing as he gave her a speculative look. “You’re subtle tonight.”

She watched him take down the bottle and two glasses, filling each with amber liquid. He moved with the controlled strength of a tired lion. Brown hair fell around his face in soft curls, as though damp. He must have showered before going to bed. As he turned back, she caught the curious glint in his blue-violet eyes.
Damn those eyes.
She’d always felt like she was being tugged down into a whirlpool when she looked into them.

He walked back and handed her a glass, then pulled out a chair for her and took one himself. She sat, sipping quietly as she gazed around the dim room.

After a minute, he said, “You just came by to drink?”

“No, I came by to complain.”

“I see.” He stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles, then took a healthy swig of his scotch. “I’m listening.”

“What the hell are we doing, Cole?”

“I’m obeying orders. I’m not sure what you’re doing anymore.”

“Goddamn it! We’ve just been ordered to kill another planet! How can you sit there so calmly?”

He massaged his forehead. “It’s only a level two attack, Carey. We’ll destroy all the known habitation centers. The planet’s resources will be intact. Some of the people might even survive. But the nuisance factor will be completely eliminated.”

“And you can live with that?”

“Carey …” He sighed heavily and shook his head. For a long moment he evaded her eyes. When he looked back, a deep and aching regret strained his expression. She’d never seen him drop the
Iron Captain
mask; it worried her a little. She looked again at his casual clothes. He wouldn’t have had time to grab them just for her—they must have already been laid out. What had he been doing? Pretending what civilian life would be like?

“Are you all right, Cole?”

“No.” He drank deeply of his scotch. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, softer. “I’ve been thinking about the Service.”

“I can see why that would depress you. If you’ve come to any conclusions that might heal my mangled stomach, I’d be interested in hearing them.”

He frowned darkly at his glass. “Why did you join, Lieutenant?”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of working as a planet-bound mathematician for the rest of my life. Why did you?”

The curve of his mouth tightened. He finished his scotch and set his glass on the table. “How much do you know about the history of the Delphinus sector?”