Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (39 page)

“What is?” he demanded pensively.

“I can’t get through.”

“Why not? How can that happen?”

“Sometimes Slothen seals files by sending orders through the main com on Palaia. But hold on. Let me do some fancy rerouting. Perhaps if I try to slip into the files through the back door.”

She input a new series of requests under her security clearance code, not based on Tikkun but on clandestine operations. As information appeared, she frowned. Fragmented, words out of order, the data had obviously undergone a thorough and deliberate incoherency cover-up.

She cocked her head. “Well, we’re into something deep, I can tell you that. Come look at this.”

Quickly, he came across the room, bracing a hand against the back of her chair to read over her shoulder. “They’ve scrambled the data?”

“Apparently.”

He reached over to touch the keyboard, and she felt the warmth of his muscular arm as it softly brushed hers. In a hushed voice, he read: “… sterilization … have demonstrated domination … organize entire populace for … bureaucratic progress … own annihilation …”

His tension had risen to such a violent crescendo, she could feel his anxious trembling through her chair. He hit a new series of keys, scrolling up slowly. “… relocation centers in deserts … rationalized terror … simplifies problem …”

As the horror of the possibilities struck him, his breathing went shallow. “No.”

Carey swiveled her chair to look up. “Baruch, it can’t happen in this day and age. These are just a bunch of fragmented scraps. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

He looked at her steadily, and all the enmity between them slipped away. Just one human being to another, his eyes seemed to plead,
can’t you see?
And she felt almost as if she, too, had heard the faint whisper of a lover’s last good-bye, the sudden silencing of a child’s ringing laughter, the quiet, quiet murder of an entire civilization.

She went numb as her mind spun images of her parents’ death: Battleships diving through the dark skies … arcs of purple weaving an eerie luminescent web over their home … the sweet smell of orange blossoms mixing with that of ionized air … her mother screaming
“Run, Carey! For God’s sake, go hide in the trees!” …
Timmy’s squalls, running behind her, running before the web slashed through him.

The emotions caught her off-guard. She shoved her chair back, forcing Baruch to sidestep, then lunged to her feet. A sob welled in her throat. “I—I have to go.”

She tried to push by him, but he grasped her wrist, gently stopping her. She looked up through tear-blurred eyes and saw his handsome face contort in shared pain.

“Your family?” he questioned. She nodded and before she realized what had happened, he’d wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. A warm rush of feeling flooded her, frightening in its intensity. His beard softly brushed her face and he murmured something soothing, inaudible. For a blessed timeless moment she allowed herself to drown in the comfort he offered. How long had it been since she’d let a man hold her? Years—so many years. What a safe feeling it was to be held again. The touch of his muscular thighs against hers stirred sensations she thought her body had forgotten.

And with them cold sanity slapped her hard. “Baruch,” she said, “the Magistrates call this fraternizing with the enemy. They frown on it.”

“I can see why.”

Slowly, he released her and took a step backward. They stood silently, facing each other.

“Don’t… don’t worry about the incoherency cover-up,” she murmured lamely, embarrassed by how rapidly she was breathing. “It’s probably nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“Is there anything else you need from me?”

He shook his head and studied her piercingly. “No. Thank you.”

Brent Bogomil walked the floor of Slothen’s office, glancing at the beautiful holos of nebulas and distant solar systems that lined the lavender walls. Beyond the broad window, a triangular formation of station security ships flew, making a calculated arc over the city. “I told you Abruzzi was right. The
Hoyer
isn’t ours anymore.”

Slothen twined his fingers nervously. “It would be foolish to assume so. What do you want me to do?”

Bogomil heaved a sigh and studied the magnificent fountains beyond the window. They threw moisture so high a series of interconnecting streams laced over the spiky buildings. “I noticed the
Aratus
and
Leimon
in docks Seven-C and Eight-A when we arrived. Can you spare them?”

“You mean to accompany you and the
Klewe
to Tikkun?”

“Yes, just in case.”

“Are you sure you need them? Gorgon’s fleet is headed to the Lysomian system. Can’t you rendezvous—”

“We don’t know when he might drop out of vault. Worse, we can’t be sure when or where the other half of the Underground fleet might appear. I could need immediate support.”

Slothen’s red mouth puckered. “All right. Let me know what’s going on out there as soon as you can. But
try
to leave Baruch alone long enough that he feels it’s safe to off-load his refugees on Tikkun; it will give us more research subjects to work with. Our studies there are critical.” He feathered through a new stack of crystal sheets on his desk and shook his head angrily. “These Gamant problems have got to stop. Maybe I’ll even reroute the
Scipio
as a show of force. Abruzzi nearly begged for that.”

Bogomil nodded, eyes narrowing as he thought about the firefight that loomed only a few days distant. Already, he’d started plotting tactics and strategy. They’d need something powerful, foolproof.

Absently, he responded, “Thank you, Magistrate.”

CHAPTER 29

…the Luminous came down to the innocent Adam and awoke him from a sleep of death that he might be saved. Even as when a just man finds a man possessed of a formidable demon and pacifies it by his art, so was it with Adam when this friend found him plunged in a deep sleep, awoke him, set him astir.
…

“Let him who hears wake up from heavy slumber!”

Then Adam wept and shed heavy tears and then he dried them, saying, “Who called my name? And from whence comes this hope, while I am in the chains of the prison?”

“I am the pronoia of the Pure Light; I am the thought of the virginal Spirit who reestablishes thee in the realms of glory. Stand up, and remember that it is
thyself
thou hast heard, and return to thy root. For I am the Merciful! Take refuge from the angels of Destruction, from the demons of the Chaos.

Then the Luminous sealed him with the light and the water with five seals, so that death henceforth should have no power over him.

Secret Book of John

(Nos. 6 and 36 and No. 1 of the Berlin Codex).

One of the Forty-Four Secret Books.

Found on Jumes, 5013.

Rachel stood on the first step of the ladder climbing through the level four security mainframe tunnel. An armored passageway six feet across, its lights glowed dimly. She reached up and removed the silver panel covering the central network of monitors.

Fourteen screens greeted her efforts. She wiped her sweaty forehead on the sleeve of her formfitting brown jumpsuit and shoved her long black hair over her shoulders, studying the rows of computer readouts. Each screen possessed its own unique color. Supposedly the color-coded display helped the reader keep different kinds of data straight.

“So why can’t you?” she gritted in angry exasperation.

Taking a notebook out of her pocket, she flipped through the crystal sheets, reviewing the schematic again. As she reached out to input a check sequence, a brilliant flash lit the tunnel. She shielded her face with her hands. Through the weave of her fingers, she saw the sleeve of his carmine cloak. He stood tall, awesomely beautiful. His amber body shimmered like liquid fire in the dim light, blazing against the walls so that they seemed sheathed in gold. The shadows of the ladder and com units wavered in monstrous images up and down the tunnel.

“No,” she whispered, stepping off the ladder to the floor. “Aktariel, why can’t you leave me alone!” Her knees shook so badly, she had to brace a hand against the wall to keep standing. “I have nothing to say to you. What do you want?”

“Rachel, you’ll be on your way to Tikkun soon and I—”

“Jeremiel said we’re not going to Tikkun! He said we’re going to—”

“Yes, I know he told you that.” He gazed at her with an anxious patience. “He’s being very cautious. In the end, almost half a million lives will depend upon his sixth sense for battle strategy.”

Tightly gripping the rung of the ladder that rested beside her, she stifled the fright and frustration swelling in her chest. As he watched her movements, a peculiar sadness invaded his eyes.

“Rachel, listen carefully. The ships Slothen has dispatched for Tikkun are coming from different directions. Two already have a fix on the
Hoyer.
Jeremiel is walking into a trap.”

“What kind of trap?”

“A clever move called the ‘Laced Star.’ Jeremiel is familiar with it.”

“Can he counter it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You do know!”

He shifted uncomfortably to lean a shoulder against the wall. “You overestimate my abilities. Epagael is manipulating the void so that I can count on very little. Chaotic parameters of the future are fluctuating wildly. There are too many factors which might change. Ornias is predictable, but Lichtner is another question. He and Tahn have old business to resolve.”

“Who’s Lichtner?”

“The current military governor of Tikkun.”

“Why is he important?”

The haunted look on his face made her hold her breath. “Ask JeremieL”

“You can’t tell me?”

“It would be better if he did. It’s his private business.” He stood a little straighter, as though a new thought had occurred to him.
“No, ask Tahn.
He’ll tell you.”

“I can’t just walk into Tahn’s cabin and—”

“Yes, you can. In fact, he’d welcome the intrusion. He’s going a little mad from claustrophobia.”

Uncertainty and confusion vied in her stomach. “Why is it I always want to believe you? Even though I know,
I know,
you’re lying.”

He lowered his voice to a soothing murmur. “I’m not lying. And as to why you want to believe, my dear Rachel, you and I have an ancient connection. You sense my own deepest fears. Our paths have been joined for millennia.”

“Not
if I don’t choose to align myself with you.”

“… That’s mostly true.”

Terror throbbed like a living creature in her chest. What did he mean by that? He gave her a pained shake of his head and looked away. His tension seemed to affect the very air, making it thicker, heavier.

“I don’t understand,” she quavered.

“Do you want me to explain?”

“Yes.
Now.”

He cautiously took a step toward her, amber eyes gleaming with a strange light. He opened his palm and extended it. “Take my hand.”

“Why?” She backed away.

“Because I can’t explain such important things to you here. I need to feel wind in my face and dirt beneath my feet. Come with me. You’ll like this place. It’s warm and beautiful.”

“Dor? Or somewhere else? Where are we going?”

He squeezed his eves closed a minute, then, in a taut voice answered, “The name wouldn’t mean anything to you if I told you. Please, trust me. Share my company for just an hour. An hour, Rachel, that’s all I’m asking and I’ll answer any question you put to me.”

“Any question?”

“Any. I give you my word.”

“Including the nature of our
connection?”

“Yes, yes, anything.”

A well of cold expanded inside her, but she felt desperate to know. She hesitantly extended her hand and put it in his.

He lifted his other hand. A whirlwind of darkness spun out from the wall. Rachel’s hair danced in the warm wind.

She took a deep breath before they stepped through the darkness.

CHAPTER 30

Cole Tahn ran a hand through his brown hair, grimacing at everything in his cabin, the oil lamp on his table, the subdued colors of the holos on the walls, his unmade bed. His blankets tumbled onto the floor in a heap. “Goddamn, you have nothing to do and you can’t even pull up your godforsaken sheets?”

His spine went stiff when a deep voice boomed through his door com: “Tahn. It’s Baruch.”

“It’s about time! Come in.”

The door slipped open and Baruch stepped inside. They stood silently, holding each other’s gaze in an undeclared dominance war. Baruch yielded first, shifting his attention to one of the bright holos of sunrise over Giclas VII. Yellow peaks glimmered like golden needles.