Redemption of Light (The Light Trilogy) (53 page)

Unthinkingly, Cole lunged in front of Amirah.

He didn’t feel the blast that ripped his shoulder and sent him crashing into the wall and tumbling across the dirty floor. But when he heard Amirah scream raggedly and hideous flares of violet encircled him, he noticed that hot blood flowed across his chest in sticky surges.

Odd thoughts occurred to him. Not about his death. Thoughts about the
Sefiroth
and Rachel’s curious equations and Jeremiel’s comments about Woloc. And he wished he’d had just five minutes on the console which monitored Palaia’s containment chamber so he could have tested his hypothesis about frequency variation and maximum singularity charge.

But he felt too weak to do anything but lie here against the cool dirty floor.

From the edge of his vision, he saw Amirah dart by and heard her brutally pounding agianst a wall. The entry patch? She let out a low desperate groan and then he heard her pistol discharge on full power. A shrapnel spray of burning petrolon spurted into the air and whined from the walls and ceiling, spattering him with melted flecks.

“Jason! Bring him!”

Then …
“Cole!”

He jumped, startled. It wasn’t Amirah’s voice.

It was Carey. She sounded desperate, terrified.

“Carey,” he whispered. “Where are you? Stay away, Carey.”

Cole felt Woloc grab him beneath the arms and drag him headfirst into the control room. Dim silver light fell over the small hexagonal chamber, lighting dozens of computer screens. And faintly, very faintly, he heard someone laugh.

“Kind of you, Captain Jossel,” an insidious, gloating voice, said, “to bring Tahn to us here.”

CHAPTER 56

Carey shoved Anapiel away from the door to the palace. He laughingly stepped aside and made a broad sweeping gesture with his arm. “Take care, Halloway. The future is not as firm as it seems. You’re walking on shifting sands.”

She jerked open the door and stepped inside, waving curtly to Zadok. “Come on, Patriarch.”

“No.” Anapiel ordered as he stepped in front of Zadok to block his path. “From this moment forward, Carey,
dear,
you’re alone.”

She sprinted down the long hall. The walls glimmered with a marmalade light so fierce, it seemed Epagael had waved his huge hand and gleaned millions of orange stars from the heavens to use as the plaster of this structure.

She ran with all her might, racing past the curious statues that filled hidden niches. Her steps faltered when she saw the monstrous black whirlwind spin out of nothingness. It seemed a gigantic ebony wound—
like the vortex of a naked singularity.
In front of the wound, a long white Veil stretched endlessly. A broad River of Fire gushed in flaming molten braids to block her path from the Veil. The heat was suffocating.

Carey stood panting. The maw called to her in silent screams of rage and hope. Flashes of bizarre images twisted through her thoughts—light so brilliant no eye could ever perceive it, love beyond comprehension, a bitter well of darkness so black and abysmal it could only exist in the mind of God. Power pervaded the images, as though a thread of eternity connected them, spinning their souls together in a pattern Carey could barely grasp.

A gentle voice boomed from the gaping heart of the darkness.
“Did he make you come here?”

“Aktariel? No, I came of my own free will.”

“Why?”

She glared into the black pit. “What have you done to my friends?”

“Blame Aktariel. His wickedness is a blight upon your universe.”

“His
wickedness!” Terror for Cole and Jeremiel ate at her. Were they dead? Or just suffering? “Are you the Creator?”

“I am the Alpha and the Omega. The Beginning and the End. The Archigenitor and the Destroyer of Worlds.”

She angrily swung around and pointed down the glittering orange corridor toward the general direction of the Void of Authades. “At this very moment, my friends, your Chosen People are dying by the thousands while they scream to you for help. Do something to save them, you bastard! What about all the promises you made to protect them? Who are you, Epagael? What are you? Are you God?”

Fiery sparkles lit the depths and of the black whirlwind and spiraled down into nothingness. “I am the Alpha—”

Carey shouted,
“Are you God? Or some—some form of alien species we know nothing about?”

Epagael hesitated for a long, long time, until Carey wanted to run forward into the whirlwind and slam her fists into the amorphous Darkness.

Finally, He asked, “What is … ‘alien’?”

Carey straightened. “Another species. A different sort of creature.”

“The two are not mutually exclusive.”

She slowly cocked her head as her heart started to pound. “What does that mean? Are you the only one of your kind? Or are you one of many ‘gods’? Is there a creator beyond you—beyond all the gods? Did someone create you?”

“I am the Unborn.”

“Are you eternal?”

“Only the Treasury is Everlasting.”

The Treasury… !

Carey glanced around. The walls of the seventh crystal palace had begun to shimmer wildly, as though alive and waiting breathlessly for the final answer to this debate. “What is the Treasury?”

“The foundation of all.”

“Including you?”

A pause. As though contemplating the question. “Is pure energy the foundation of your personality, Carey Halloway?”

“Yes. Ultimately.”

“So it is of all things.”

Carey’s face slackened in understanding. A dozen years ago on Horeb an obscure prophet, Adom Kemar Tartarus, had preached something similar. She’d discussed it with Jeremiel often. Tartarus had believed that the idea of an eternal soul—in the sense of a person’s distinct personality—was a quaint fiction. Only energy lasted forever. He’d believed that individual consciousnesses had an epiphenomenal basis, that
personality
was spawned by the interaction of the physiochemical processes in the brain. The old Gam ant believers had always accused Tartarus of being influenced by Aktariel.

And maybe it was so.

Carey eyed the vortex inquisitively. Perhaps God’s soul was nothing more than a macrocosmic example of the human soul, formed in the same way?

“Epagael?” she called. “Did you, like me, go through the stages of conception, birth, childhood, and adulthood?”

“Evolution occurs. Correct.”

Carey folded her arms and rubbed her fingers over the old bloodstains stiffening the sleeves of her black jumpsuit. “Interesting.”

The black whirlwind seemed to be spinning slower, as though listening.
What are you, Epagael? An alien parasite feeding upon the eternal sea of primordial Energy? … Perhaps all personalities were? Including her own?
Carey shivered suddenly. If God’s personality evolved over billions of years, the current Epagael might not bear any resemblance to the deity who originally created the multiple universes. Is that what you’re doing, Aktariel? Trying to alter the personality of the being currently sprouting from the Treasury? Why? Lord, your gatekeeper, Sedriel, talked about Rachel. What’s she done that has your angels so frightened?”

“Rachel, poor Rachel. She’s the last of the
Sefirah.
She’s trying to reconfigure the strands of light, to create a new refrain in the symphony of Chaos, to sweeten the melody.”

“Will she succeed?”

“Unknown.”

Carey’s heart quickened. “If Rachel succeeds, how much of the Void will she kill? It won’t just be my universe, will it?”

The River of Fire roared louder, almost deafening. Carey pressed her hands over her ears and glared at the black vortex.

“If Aktariel and Rachel succeed, Carey Halloway, all the universes in close proximity to yours will be sucked away.”

A prickle of terror went up her spine. “Send me home, God. I want to go home.”

No answer.

“I want to go home, God!”

“Why? You’ll be going home to oblivion. …”

“Put down your weapons, Jossel and Woloc!” Ornias said as he squeezed the trigger of his pistol. His purple general’s uniform clung wetly to his arms. Blood speckled his face and braided beard.

Amirah and Jason dragged Tahn through the door. It closed behind them. Blonde hair had fallen out of her clasp to drape in tangled curls around her cheeks. Computer screens glowed in the darkness, reporting information from across the station, and casting a rainbow over the hexagonal chamber. Slothen and Mastema crowded against the far wall, their blue faces pinched and hateful. Mastema lay atop his gurney with Mikael’s curious necklace pressed against his bosom. Both Magistrates glared menacingly at her—but only Ornias had a gun.

A malignant rumble like a bestial growl went through the station. Amirah staggered.

“Zohar’s getting closer!” Ornias wailed. “Drop your gun, Captain!”

Cole weakly took in the scene. “Do it, Amirah,” he whispered.

Amirah hesitated, then reluctantly dropped her pistol and grabbed Cole’s right arm with both hands. “Help me, Jason.”

Woloc gripped Tahn’s other arm and they dragged him into the center of the room by the main control eonsole—a raised chair and semicircle of computer screens. Such a broad trail of blood marred the gray carpet that Amirah had started to tremble. The fragments of bone protruding from Cole’s wounded shoulder shifted as she gently released him. When his handsome face twisted in pain, Amirah leaned forward and kissed his cheek, using it as an excuse to murmur in his ear, “Stay alert. We’re not done yet.”

He threw her an incredulous look.

She rose and wiped her bloody hands on her purple pants, then turned to face Slothen and Mastema. “Magistrates, I—”

“Shut up, Captain!” Ornias ordered. “Get Tahn up into that control chair. I thought Mastema would know how to run these controls, but the technology has changed so much since his day, that he’s baffled. All of our other engineers and specialists are gone or dead, and we
must
have someone who knows how to keep this station out of Zohar’s way.”

Cole inhaled a difficult breath and laughed grimly. “What makes you think I’ll do it, General?”

Ornias’ jaw quivered with rage. “You will, Tahn! If I have to slice you apart piece by piece!” He took two steps toward Amirah and Jason. “Get him into that chair! Now!”

Amirah and Jason helped Cole to the chair where they let him down easy. Jason threw her a look of panic before he backed away.

Cole slumped forward over the console…. And his eyes suddenly sharpened as he took in the massive array of patches, levers, and com readouts. In a disturbingly amiable voice, he noted, “You’re in deep trouble, gentlemen. I’m not sure there’s anything I can do. Palaia is perched on the edge of Zohar’s event horizon at this very moment.”

Abject terror tensed Ornias’ face. “Get us out of its path! I don’t care how you do it—just do it!”

“But really, General, I—”

“I’ll kill Captain Jossel!”
he threatened and swung his pistol around to aim at Amirah’s face. “If you don’t do something Tahn,
she’s dead!”

Jason’s breast heaved with impotent rage. He glanced at Ornias’ pistol and Amirah’s taut face.

Cole fixed Ornias with a lethal glare and swiveled around to the controls—his hand trembled as he lifted it to the console. An involuntary shudder went through his body. Amirah flinched.
He’s going into shock. No, not yet!
Amirah walked back onto the raised platform and dropped a hand to squeeze his broad shoulder reassuringly. Cole seemed to rally; he closed his eyes and after a few moments the tremors stopped. He input a series of equations. Amirah counted them because she hadn’t anything better to do: one, two … three … four, five.

Tahn waited and when an equation popped up in response to his query, he exhaled very quietly. It looked like a mass ratio to Amirah.

Cole casually input several more commands, grumbling inaudibly to himself as he shifted his wounded shoulder
to shield his console from Ornias’ view!

Amirah shot a glance at the screen and her heart throbbed agonizingly: WARNING! TAPPING SHIELDS AT LEVEL FIVE INTENSITY WILL RESULT IN FAILURE IN LESS THAN FIFTEEN MINUTES. PLEASE CANCEL COMMAND OR INSTRUCT REGARDING EXCESSIVE CHARGING OF SINGULARITIES?

Oh, God. The singularities in Palaia’s hold don’t have sufficient charge … he has to tap the shields.

Amirah stepped around to stand between Tahn and Ornias, to hide Cole’s actions completely, even if for only a few precious seconds. Tahn understood. She heard him strike several patches in quick succession.

Ornias’ malicious gaze riveted on her. “Move back to where you were, Captain?”

Amirah lifted her hands in surrender and gazed at Mastema and Slothen as though straining to hear what they were saying. The Magistrates spoke quietly, urgently to each other in low tones. Ornias followed her gaze. She caught Mastema’s whisper:
But the ship is waiting … can’t wait much longer.
Slothen responded: …
still fighting in halls … can’t get out until…

Ornias’ eyes narrowed. He glanced fearfully at Amirah. “I said move back, Captain! My patience is running thin!”

“Just how do you plan to get off this station, General,” she taunted, delaying, “once we’re out of Zohar’s path? There are hundreds of Gamants on the plains of Naas. Maybe thousands by now.” She laughed deprecatingly and noticed Jason take a deep breath. He nervously looked between her and Ornias.

Ornias gripped his pistol more tightly and glowered. “If you don’t back up immediately, Captain, you won’t live long enough to find out. Move!”

Amirah complied, stepping behind Cole’s chair in time to see him hit the master override switch. His screen blanked. She braced a hand on the back of his chair to steady herself. In an intimate and comforting gesture Tahn lifted his good hand and twined his fingers tightly with hers. If they’d only had a few more days—oh, how she would have loved to spend time with him. She squeezed his hand fiercely.

“What’s happening, Tahn?” Ornias demanded hysterically. “Are you maneuvering us away …”

The station convulsed, lurching as though in the throes of death. The floor rose up to slam Amirah. Screams, Giclasian and human, swept the chamber and Amirah rolled, lunging for Ornias who lay stunned a few feet away—he saw her coming and crabbed backward, shouting,
“Don’t try it! Don’t try it, you little fool! Or I’ll
…”

The door to the chamber rattled.

A moment later, a huge ebony whirlwind spun out of the wall near Cole. He lay in a crumpled pile of black uniform on the raised platform. Ornias shrieked and ran to stand beside Slothen and Mastema. In a splatter of brilliant gold, a woman appeared. She had waist-length black hair and the blackest eyes Amirah had ever seen. Her long carmine cloak fluttered as she gracefully walked toward Cole.