Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (33 page)

Dannon stood in the midst of four guards outside of Engineering on level twenty. Dressed in multicolored ragged robes, each held a rifle and wore a pistol on his belt. The bright corridor stretched endlessly white in front of Neil. He’d managed to work his way into the lower echelons, acting as gopher for the main security personnel. In the process, he’d learned a great deal about Jeremiel’s operations—including the deep problems. Horeb’s civil war still raged on a sporadic basis, factions slitting each other’s throats in the hallways or hospital. After the wounded received adequate treatment, they were immediately locked in a cabin and not allowed out. As a result, the lower levels had gradually begun to clear. Jeremiel’s greatest difficulty, it seemed, was that he possessed only a handful of officers capable of manning the basic control consoles aboard the
Hoyer.
Everybody else with brains had been stuck into the teaching programs being run by Magisterial staff on level seven.

Good move, Jeremiel, but I doubt Tahn’s going to give you enough time to get them fully trained. You’re in a hell of a mess, old friend.

Lucius, the short, blocky redhead beside Dannon whispered, “Yeah, well I heard Tahn was half-crazy from the concussion Baruch gave him. Even if he is back on his feet, I doubt he’ll be a threat.”

Dannon leaned a shoulder against the wall and calmly inquired, “Where did Baruch put Tahn?”

Lucius jabbed a thumb at the ceiling. “Level four. Tahn’s old cabin, I hear.”

Damn it. Jeremiel would certainly have sealed it, which meant Neil had no hope of gaining entry. But he
could
make it to level seven and contact some of the Magisterial officers before anybody in the Gamant regime caught wind of his identity.

“So,” Neil said casually. “How many people have we got in Engineering now?”

Lucius scratched his scraggly red hair and squinted in thought. “Six, I think. Though a couple more may have come up from the teaching programs.”

Six!
Barely enough to keep the ship in orbit and maintain a watch on the primordial black holes in the engines.
Incredible.

Dannon started to ask another question, but Lucius went suddenly stiff. He and the rest of the group came to attention and saluted crudely. Neil quickly snapped up his hand only to have his knees go weak when he saw Jeremiel and Halloway walking down the hall toward them.

Carey shot Dannon a knowing glance, but kept her face blank as she passed. Jeremiel’s steps seemed to falter for a split second. He looked Neil straight in the face and Dannon stopped breathing. In those piercing blue eyes Neil saw
recognition
—
painful remnants of old friendship
—
hate
—
silent questions of “why?”

Then Jeremiel quietly walked by, catching up with Halloway.

When Baruch rounded the corner and disappeared, Neil sank back against the wall, forcing himself to take deep breaths while he pretended to listen to Lucius’ inane monologue.

If Jeremiel knew, why hadn’t he …

I’ve got to get out of here, now!

Dannon amiably excused himself and moved briskly down the hall. For days he’d been avoiding the upper levels—but now he headed straight for seven, flashing his security badge at every intersection.

CHAPTER 25

Mikael sat alone on his floor, playing with the stamps Captain Tahn had given him. Avel Harper had picked them up when he found him in room 955. Mikael liked the one with the old style starship best. It had lots of purple and green in it. He looked around his white cabin and groaned softly. He missed colors. On Kayan they’d had so many, every color you could think of played over the tall mountains—but here only white and gray seemed to exist.

He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to think what Kayan would look like at this time of year if it weren’t a dead planet. It would be fall, and the Kayan oaks would he turning yellow little green veins still striping the leaves. He used to sit for hours in the forest, smelling the rain-wet wood while he piled leaves into huge mounds. His mother used to play with him, throwing him into the leaf beds and laughing at him when he crawled out, spitting them from his mouth.

He missed her.

He closed his eyes for a while, trying not to think about it. But he only felt worse. He reached over and picked up the purple stamp again, studying the triangular shape of the ship. He laid it down and kicked his feet for a while, listening to them thud on the gray carpet.

His throat started to tighten, to ache. He swallowed to make it go away, but it didn’t help much. Tears blurred his eyes. He looked at the ceiling again.

“God? Are you up there?” He reached out with his hand, holding it open to the heavens. “I’m scared … a little.”

After a minute, when no answer came, he lowered his hand and turned over on his stomach to pick aimlessly at the lint on the carpet. He rolled the gray fibers into balls and made a growing pile in front of him.

He remembered his mother’s round face and her long black hair. His nose ran. He wiped it on his sleeve and bit his lower lip. He pulled his
Mea
from inside his robe and held the blue ball up to swing before his eyes.

“God?” he called. “Grandfather? Maybe I could talk to you for just a little bit? I feel pretty lonely. Everybody’s busy here, and nobody seems to want to talk to me. Except Sybil, but she only gets to come every so often and … and … I feel scared.”

“Metatron? Are you in there? Could you come talk to me?”

Mikael had been calling for hours, but no one had answered. He couldn’t help it, his mouth trembled. He covered his eyes with his hand and cried, feeling the tears warm against his fingers. A spot of gold flared and he jerked his hands down.

“Oh!”

“Are you all right, Mikael?”

Metatron stood before him. Tall and beautiful, the angel’s body shimmered like polished glass in the light. His amber eyes glittered. Dressed in a hooded blue cloak, he smiled warmly and Mikael felt it like sunshine on a cold winter’s day. The angel walked forward and gazed down at him.

“Thank you for coming, sir. I’m just lonely, I guess.”

Metatron nodded understandingly. “You’re never really alone, Mikael. I’ll always be close if you call.”

“But sometimes I feel awfully bad.” He lowered his gaze and fumbled with his bare foot.

“I know you do. I should have come sooner. You sounded pretty gloomy when you called me.” The angel sat cross-legged on the floor and threw back his hood. The brilliant light from his body splashed the walls like an ocean of gold. He smiled brightly and opened his arms wide. “Come, let’s talk.”

Mikael got on his knees and crawled into Metatron’s lap. The angel held him tenderly, stroking his back. He gazed at Metatron’s beautiful yellow hair. Shyly, he reached up to touch it.

The angel smiled. “Feels just like yours, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, except it’s softer and warmer.” Some of his fear went away. He heaved a sigh of relief. “Metatron?”

“Yes, Mikael?”

“The people here—they’re all running around scared, like things aren’t going very good. Are we in trouble?”

His feet were getting cold, so he tucked them into the hem of the angel’s warm cloak. Metatron reached out and grabbed his icy toes and held them. Mikael shuddered at the sudden warmth that coursed pleasantly through him.

The angel nodded, heaving a tired breath. “Yes. I’m afraid we’re in pretty bad trouble.

“Because the Magistrates want to come get their ship back?”

“Oh, that and other things. You see, there are a lot of bad people who are trying to hurt us.”

“My grandfather told me! He told me the Antimashiah is here,
right now!
And she—”

“Yes, I know he did.” Metatron’s amber eyes seemed to glow brighter.

“I guess God told Grandfather about her.”

“I guess.”

“I’m supposed to tell Mister Baruch, but he’s always so busy. I haven’t even seen him at all.”

Metatron pulled him closer, hugging him tightly for a moment. It felt good, like being swallowed by a pool of molten gold. Mikael wished he’d never stop, but he did. Metatron relaxed his hold and looked down through kind eyes. “Don’t worry about delivering that message. Jeremiel doesn’t need to know for a time yet. Just now he’s very, very busy trying to keep everybody on this ship safe.”

“I know, but I
want
to tell him. Maybe you could make him come and talk to me?”

Metatron gently pushed Mikael’s curls away from his face, and cradled the boy’s chin in his golden palm. “I’ll try, but you shouldn’t be disappointed if he doesn’t come immediately. Soon, he’s going to have to take this ship far, far away to try to save Gamant civilization. And it’s going to be very hard. The Magistrates are setting up an ambush for him.”

Mikael’s chest felt hollow. He nuzzled his cheek against the angel’s hand. “But I could help him. If he’d only—”

“I know. But maybe you should wait for just a little while, until things get straightened out better here. You need to play with Sybil and be happy for a time before …” He smiled sadly, kissing Mikael’s rosy cheek. “Before the strands of destiny pull tight around you.”

“You mean like the war? Is that going to happen soon?”

“Too soon, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mind. Me and Sybil, we’re ready.”

Metatron nodded proudly. “I knew you would be. But it’s not for a while yet. God and I, we want you to play a while longer. Just be happy before you have to come back to the Cave of Treasures.”

Mikael cocked his head inquisitively. “Where is that?”

“Well,” the angel sighed, looking serious. “It’s a place Sybil’s mother knows about. God and I, we call it the Cave of Treasures, but Rachel calls it the polar chambers.”

“Where she killed the Mashiah? Sybil told me about that.”

“Yes, that’s where. There are a lot of old books there. They’ll help you win the war.”

“Sybil’s mom is going to fight with us, too?”

“Yes, she’ll be an important asset for you.”

“Where are the books? I know how to read. Can we go get them?”

Metatron smiled, but shook his head. “It’s not time yet. We have to make things work just right or they won’t work at all.”

“Okay.” Mikael patted the soft velvet of the angel’s cloak, leaning his head against Metatron’s warm chest. “Metatron?”

“Hmm?”

“Can’t you kill the Antimashiah or something? You could kill her and all the bad people who want to hurt us. And then things would get better.”

“I’m sorry, Mikael. There are some things the universe just doesn’t allow me to do.”

Mikael looked up at him, blinking thoughtfully. “But God could. Maybe if you talked to Epagael—”

“He’s … he’s pretty busy right now, too. There are a lot of other universes he has to keep an eye on.”

“More than just ours?” Mikael asked, startled. No one had ever told him that before.

“Oh, yes. A lot more. More than you could ever imagine.”

“But ours is his favorite, isn’t it?” He remembered the old stories about how God had chosen the Gamant people to make His Covenant with. “Isn’t it?” He cocked his head to see the angel’s face. A look of grief etched lines around Metatron’s mouth.

“Yes … it’s His favorite.” He exhaled heavily and then smiled down again. “Tell me what else is bothering you?”

“I’m just lonely mostly.”

“Well, that’s all right. Everybody is, deep down. Don’t you like Sybil?”

“Oh, yes, sir. She’s pretty awesome.”

Metatron laughed and the sound seemed to echo, swirling around his cabin like warm spring winds. “I’m glad. She’s very important to us.”

“Is she? Her mom doesn’t let her come very much. She has chores she has to do in their cabin. I don’t know what, but they must take a lot of time.”

“Do you want her to come more often?”

“Oh, yes. That would be great.”

“I’ll talk to Rachel about it.”

“Sybil’s mom talks to you?”

“Not as often as I’d like, but occasionally. You probably shouldn’t tell Sybil that, though. It might scare her.”

“She’s pretty brave. I bet it wouldn’t. But if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“Thank you. You’re a good boy.”

Mikael smiled broadly and reached a hand up to tenderly pat the angel’s beautiful golden cheek. It looked like glass, but felt like silk. “Sybil’s had funny dreams about me. Did you know?”

“Yes. I’ve known for a long time. I’m going to tell you something you won’t really understand for a few years, but it’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“What? I might understand.”

“Yes, you might. You’re a very smart boy. Well, Sybil is one of those rare people in this universe who only has a limited number of parallel futures. And they’re all close and powerful. They send … um …
waves
to her all the time and she feels them very strongly. That’s why she has those
funny
dreams. You listen when she tells you about them.”