Sullivan Saga 2: Sullivan's Wrath (2 page)

“You love me… you say that a lot.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Why? Why do you love me?”

Allen felt a cold spot on his arm and looked down to see Liz’s hand hovering near him, as though stroking his skin. “I’ve gotten to know you. I’ve become attached to you, just as anyone else becomes attached to another.”

“But you’re not like anyone else. You don’t even exist in my universe.”

“You’re wrong. I exist in all universes, yours included. And despite our very different natures, we feel love and sorrow and anger just as you do.”

“You really feel human emotions? It’s really the same?”

“Human emotions are not so human, Frank. When you cross over and see the variety of life that exists across all the infinite universes, you’ll understand. I feel these things because I’ve experienced them through countless other beings, physical beings like yourself.

Allen turned away from the window and fixed Liz’s gaze. He didn’t ask the question that was edging around the corners of his mind. He didn’t ask if she had become attached to anyone else the way she was attached to him.

Liz removed her hand, and the chill faded. “When do you want me to go to Edaline?” he asked.

“As soon as you can. The sooner you leave here, the sooner we can be together. Make the preparations, Frank. Once you’re on a ship bound for Edaline, I’ll come back to you. Once you’re in hyperspace, you’ll be able to touch me again.”

Allen watched as Liz smiled then began to dissipate. After a few seconds, he was left staring at the wall. Allen took his earpiece from his pocket and tapped on the side of the device. “Call Hammond, Dale.” He waited as the call connected.

“Frank?”

“Hello, Dale. Listen, there’s something I need you to do for me.”

“Sure, anything.”

“How soon can you get a ship and pilot ready?”

“Where are you going?”

“Edaline.”

“Edaline? Why?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you the details, Dale. I need to do something for Rick. But I can tell you it’s quite a serious matter.”

“I understand.” There was a pause before Hammond spoke again. “I can get a ship and pilot ready to go by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good. Will you do it?”

“I’d, uh… I’d like to get confirmation from Kate. She owns the company, after all.”

“That’s the thing. Look, do you trust Rick and me?”

“Of course.”

“Kate can’t know about this, Dale. And it’s best if you don’t call Rick about it, either. She’s bound to be with him and will get suspicious if he has to excuse himself to talk in private. Just know that it’s incredibly important that I get to Edaline. The future of the planet could depend on it.”

“I hear you, Frank. I’ll set it up.”

“Thank you, my friend. I’ll be in touch.”

Allen tapped the side of his earpiece and looked back out the window. He heard the door handle behind him and turned to greet Kate Alexander and Rick Sullivan as they returned from their lunch date.

BROTHER PETER MORRIS lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He reached over and touched the book resting on his nightstand. “Dear Lord, give me strength,” he whispered.

Peter closed his eyes and focused on an image of Jesus on the cross. He studied the blood dripping down from the crown of thorns, into the savior’s eyes. He watched as the Roman soldier thrust his spear into Jesus’s side.

An overwhelming sense of sorrow swept over Peter. He always felt great sadness when he thought about Jesus’s sacrifice. Still, it was the only way Peter knew of to overcome his baser instincts. And he was right; the Lord had seen him through his ordeal. Peter’s erection had subsided.

Peter said a quick prayer of thanks and removed his hand from the Bible. He’d been waking up more and more often in the middle of the night and often aroused. He couldn’t exactly recall the dreams that had led to his state, but he knew they were sinful. And he had the overwhelming suspicion that there was an evil force at play, trying to cause him to sin. Why was it so easy to sin? Even though he had dedicated his life to Christ, it seemed that he would never be free of his desires.

Of course, Peter knew that sin had become quite casual for most people. In this highly secular age, human beings sinned without the least bit of thought or regret. But he had always resisted the influences of society. He had made sure that he only surrounded himself with those who were as devout as himself.

It had been a difficult decision to move to the Cenobian monastic community in the Mohave Desert. His family had not understood. His friends had teased him about it. Secular people still had very bizarre ideas about what monastic life was about. They imagined hair shirts and self-flagellation. They pictured him rising in the middle of the night to pray.

It was understandable, of course. The Catholic monastic traditions had persisted for centuries and had been slow to adapt to the changes in society. But the non-denominational Cenobian Brotherhood that ran the monastery was quite progressive compared to the monasteries of a thousand or even a few hundred years ago. All that was required of a devotee was that he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal savior and lived in accordance with the rules of the community. Beyond that, all were welcome, no matter the church they’d attended before arriving.

Peter had been at the monastery for three years. He’d focused his attention on living a pure and devout life and, for most of those three years, had felt happy.

But a few weeks ago, the dreams had started. Even during the daylight hours, he found his mind wandering toward thoughts of the female body. He didn’t know why these thoughts had begun, but he suspected that he was being tested. Had he grown complacent in his faith? Was devotion becoming too easy, too run-of-the-mill?

He decided that he would find a way to drive the sin and impurity from his mind. Perhaps those monks of the past had understood something Peter’s order didn’t. Perhaps pain—discomfort—really was the only way to be truly pure.

Peter heard the low hum of the automatic floor cleaner as it made its way down the hallway outside his bedroom door. He opened his eyes again to check the time. As he turned to look at his clock, something caught his attention. On the wall was the figure of a crucified Jesus, the exact same image he had imagined only moments before.

Peter rubbed his eyes and looked again. The image was gone. He sighed. Waking up three or four times a night was beginning to take its toll. Peter closed his eyes, said another silent prayer and tried to fall back asleep.

MILES BERG CLEARED his throat. “Understood, sir. Well, that’s certainly welcome news. We can have the warrant ready immediately. I’ll let you….”

He knitted his brow as he listened to the voice on the other end of the call. “I understand your position, of course,” Berg said, “but I must object to your decision. I have a responsibility not only to the Bureau but also to the people of this planet. And quite frankly there is no legal justification for this highly unorthodox….”

He bit down on his lip as Silvanus’s prime minister interrupted him again. He took a deep breath. “Sir, your office has been stonewalling me for months. Richard Sullivan is a dangerous….” He cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Twenty years of service. Three as director.” He bit down harder on his lip and stifled the impulse to curse. “You don’t have the authority to…. Yes, sir. I understand. I’ll wait forty-eight hours but no longer.”

Berg slammed his fist down on his desk as soon as the call had ended. He knew why the prime minister was making him wait before issuing the warrant for Richard Sullivan’s arrest. Kate Alexander—or rather her father—was well connected. Even dead, Benjamin Alexander held considerable political sway. Richard Sullivan was being given an opportunity to get off the planet.

Berg pulled up Sullivan’s file on his screen and studied the man’s face. He let out a long breath. Would it really matter all that much if he let this one go? Could he look the other way?

No. He was a planetary director for the Stellar Assembly Bureau of Investigation. The Friends of Alexander, as the prime minister and his colleagues were being called around the Bureau, could threaten his job to force him to postpone issuing the warrant and arresting Sullivan for the murders of the assemblymen on Earth and the freighter pilot Oscar Jones, but they couldn’t stop him from arresting Sullivan for other reasons.

Berg had already agreed to not issue warrants against Kate Alexander and Frank Allen for aiding and abetting a known fugitive. He had bent to the prime minister’s will on that, and he could accept it. But now he was being told to let Sullivan go as well.

It made Berg’s blood simmer to think about how Sullivan had been flaunting his connections because of Kate Alexander. Sullivan, Kate and Frank Allen hadn’t even bothered to go into hiding. The Bureau had known exactly where Sullivan had been ever since he’d returned to Silvanus: in the Alexander penthouse in the middle of the city.

Berg pulled up Allen’s file. Frank Allen had spent eleven years in the Bureau before suddenly resigning and going off with Sullivan to fight a civil war on Edaline. What could bring a man to throw away his life like that? His partner, Elizabeth Wagner, had been killed. Had there been something between them? Or was Sullivan’s personal magnetism so strong that he could turn not only a well-respected heiress but a Bureau agent as well?

It didn’t matter. As far as he knew, they hadn’t killed anyone in cold blood. He’d let Allen and Kate Alexander go, but Sullivan was not leaving the planet if he could do anything about it.

Berg pressed a button on his desk. “Marilyn, get Williams and Poole in here.”

A minute later, the two agents knocked on the glass window in Berg’s office door. “Have a seat,” he said after waving them in. “We’ve received the go-ahead on Sullivan.”

Williams nodded. “It’s about damned time. As of this morning, he was still at the Alexander penthouse. We’ll go pick him up.”

Berg shook his head. “I know you want to get this guy, but there’s a hitch. We’re being stalled for forty-eight hours. He’ll be off-planet by that time.”

“Christ,” said Poole. “The Friends of Alexander strike again. Why the hell can’t the politicians just let us do our jobs?”

Berg studied the faces of his agents. The two of them had been the lead investigators on this case. They had found Sullivan after he’d returned to Silvanus and had been keeping track of his movements. He understood their frustration, and he knew they wanted to bring Sullivan in as much as he did.

“Listen,” he said after a pause, “we can hold Sullivan for forty-eight hours without charging him. We just need cause to bring him in.”

Poole nodded then smiled over at Williams. “I think we understand, sir.”

Williams returned his partner’s smile then looked back at Berg. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll find a reason.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Berg stood, and his agents followed suit. “Get to it. We don’t have a lot of time, and he might try to give us the slip before the forty-eight hours are up. But keep it on the level. We don’t want to have to release him because of any procedural irregularities. But if he tries to use force against you….”

Williams nodded. “Loud and clear, sir.”

AS THEY SAT around the table after lunch, having their coffee, Kate’s earpiece began buzzing. She tapped on it. “Hello?”

She listened intently for a moment as Sullivan and Allen watched her expression harden. “I understand,” she finally said. “Thank you.”

Sullivan took her hands in his. “What is it, Kate?”

“It seems that whatever was left of my father’s goodwill just ran out. In two days, a warrant will be issued for your arrest.”

Sullivan nodded. “We knew it was only a matter of time. What about you?”

“No. They’re not going to charge me with anything. My father was too well-respected for them to get away with that. Frank is in the clear, too.”

“Good,” said Sullivan. “Then we’ll leave for Faris as soon as we can.” He held Kate’s hands up to his lips and kissed them. “I’m just glad you’re not being charged. I never wanted you to live as a fugitive. Kate… if you don’t want to leave Silvanus, I understand.”

“We already talked about this, Rick. I’m going with you. I won’t leave you. Since they’re not going to charge me, I can always return when I need to. We can go now, and I’ll come back to tie up whatever loose ends there might be. The board of directors can run the company just fine without me.”

Sullivan smiled. “And it won’t be a bad life. Faris is a good planet. Presumably your assets won’t be frozen, so we’ll still have plenty to live on.” He took his earpiece from his pocket. “I’ll call Dale Hammond and have him get a ship ready to take us.”

Allen cleared his throat. “Rick?”

“Yes?”

“Let me take care of that. You need to pack your things, make sure everything is in order.”

Sullivan clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thank you. I know you haven’t made a decision, but I hope you’ll come with us.”

“I’m still thinking about it,” Allen said. “Now that I know I’m not being charged with anything, it does open up a lot of possibilities for me.”

Sullivan nodded. “Don’t rush it. If you want to have some time alone, we certainly understand. You can meet us on Faris later if you want to. You’ll always be welcome.”

“Thank you, Rick. I appreciate that.”

“And thank you for calling Dale for me. Make sure he can get a ship ready for tomorrow. I don’t want to cut it too close.”

Allen waited for Sullivan and Kate to leave the room and walk down the hall to Kate’s bedroom suite. He opened the front door and stepped into the hallway before tapping his earpiece. “Dial last.”

Hammond answered a moment later. “Anything wrong, Frank?”

“Hi, Dale. Listen, I’m going to need a second ship ready as soon as possible. For Faris.”

“Let me check.”

Allen waited, chewing his lip.

“Sorry, Frank. I have a ship, but all my other pilots are committed. I’d have to get permission from Kate or the board to cancel one of the jobs and reschedule someone.”