Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (66 page)

“She appears as the
Emperor does," Abaddon said at last.  "Without wings.”

“This is the
root-stock the Emperor used to create our race,” Lucifer shrugged.  “Because
they evolved naturally, without interference from either emperor, they don't
share our issues.”

“Will they breed
true?” Abaddon asked.

“That, I can't tell
you,” Lucifer said.  “My own little buns in the oven have yet to make their
happy appearance.  However, tests indicate only half will inherit our wings,
but
all
of them will inherit the other desirable traits our species
possesses.  Like the Merfolk and the Leviathans.  Only, unlike Mer-Levi, the
dominant genes are humanoid, not aquatic mammal, so our offspring will look
like us.”

Abaddon imagined what
it would be like to hold one … no two … of the offspring he could beget upon
such a creature as Lucifer talked.  He could almost feel them in his arms. 
His
children.  His son playing at his feet as he taught him how to use a wooden
sword.  The child had his mother's dark hair and
his
wings.  The other
looked just like him, only she didn't have his wings.  A daughter.  Only she'd
inherit his grey eyes.  And his temper!  Oh … what a hellion she would be. 
What a magnificent child!

Abaddon scratched his
chin, deep in thought. 

“The Mer and Levi love
each other and their children, no matter which parent they look like,"
Abaddon said.  "It wouldn't displease me to bear offspring who look like
this human.  After all … our own Emperor appears to us in this form."  He
snorted.  "It's preferable to extinction.”

“She is at peak
fertility for the next two days," Lucifer said.  "Why not take her
back to your ship and give her a test drive?  If your medical technicians don't
confirm she is pregnant within three days, you can return her.  Where else can
you get a money-back guarantee like that?”

As Lucifer spoke,
Abaddon found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to make love to a
creature of legend.  It had been a long, dry spell.  What would it be like to
be
touched
by such a creature?

Abaddon held out his
hand.  The woman hesitated, as though unsure what to do.  Lucifer bent towards
her and whispered something in her ear.  She made eye contact, then reached up
to take his hand.  Raising her knuckles to his lips, he asked if she would like
to attempt a mating, the new ‘normal’ custom amongst Angelics ever since Hashem
had announced his ‘be fruitful and multiply’ policies to ensure maximum genetic
diversity. 

“What will this gift
cost me?” Abaddon asked.  Neither Shay’tan, nor Lucifer, ever gave gifts
without strings.

“The Emperor has
enacted some policies which undermine the stability of the Alliance,” Lucifer's
mouth formed into a dissatisfied moue.  “All I ask is support in Parliament
when I ask them to override the Emperor’s seed world restrictions and open the
human homeworld to trade.”

Abaddon considered the
matter and nodded agreement.  What Lucifer proposed was not unreasonable. 
Parliament
did
have the authority to override the Emperor by a
two-thirds vote of both houses.  In fact, during the Emperor's little
two-hundred year 'sabbatical' it was the only way they'd been able to get
Alliance business done.  If Lucifer’s demands became
unreasonable, he
would simply refuse to follow through.  He'd been around the block too many
times to get sucked into political intrigues.  The reason, he suspected, that
he'd been passed over for promotion when the Emperor had created the position
of Supreme Commander-General in favor of Jophiel. 
That
little slight
still smarted.

“Why is she so quiet,”
Abaddon asked.  “What did you do to her?”

“The humans grew up on
a primitive planet,” Lucifer shrugged.  “We found it helpful to give them a
sedative until they adjust.  Their level of technology has actually regressed,
not moved forward, since my father abandoned them.”

“How primitive?”
Abaddon asked.

“Shay’tan said my
father knocked them back into a Stone Age as a ‘control’ group for the other
twelve colonies,” Lucifer said.  “Then he abandoned them when Shay’tan annexed
that part of the galaxy.  It's a good thing he did!  Otherwise they would have
gone extinct like the other colonies he tinkered with!”

Abaddon sucked in his
breath.  It was a good thing age had mellowed him or he would have exploded in
a fit of rage.  He'd been ordered to enforce a ‘hands-off’ policy on more than
one of Hashem’s precious seed words, often to the detriment of the Alliance at
large.  Especially when he suspected Hashem’s motivation for declaring a world
off limits had more to do with tweaking Shay’tan’s nose than the evolutionary
frailty of an emerging pre-sentient species.

“Is she sentient?” 
Abaddon swallowed his anger.  “Will she bear me sentient offspring?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said. 
“But there's a good reason my father tinkered with our DNA.  The root stock is
not as … how shall I put this … intellectually gifted … as our Angelic
females.  She will make a loving, loyal mate who will bear you many fine
offspring who are every bit as intelligent as you are.  My father
always
ensures sentience is a dominant gene no matter which species he tinkers with. 
But you'll need to find somebody
else
to talk to if you want to discuss
troop movements.”

“I'm a man of action,”
Abaddon snorted, “not some pansy intellectual in an ivory tower.”

“And
that
is
why you're in charge of the Angelic Air Force,” Lucifer said.  “While
intellectuals such as my father retreat into their own little worlds and
espouse high ideals that don't work when faced with real problems.”

Abaddon raised one
eyebrow at Lucifer to let him know the skillful ego-stroking would get him
nowhere.  The temptation of a potentially fertile human standing in front of
him, on the other hand, was a different story.

“What happens if the
mating is successful?” Abaddon asked.  “Will she put our offspring into one of
the Emperor’s training academies and deny me the right to see my own child?”

“Ahhhhh….” Lucifer
said.  “The heart of the issue.  It's not right, female Angelics using their
wombs so casually to fill the ranks of the Emperor’s armies.  Our species used
to mate for life.” 

“I'm old enough to
remember when the Emperor’s breeding program was new,” Abaddon said wistfully. 
“What seemed like a male fantasy come true turned at the time out to be my
worst nightmare.  What I wouldn't give to turn back the clock to a time when
our species was allowed to love.”

Old dreams, long
buried and forgotten, rose to the surface as Abaddon stared at the beautiful,
dark-haired female with the mahogany brown eyes.  He'd loved a woman once, but
before she'd come into her heat-cycle she'd been killed in battle, her last
words to whisper his name as she had died in his arms.  He'd missed the
opportunity to create a child with her so they would always have a symbol of
their mutual adoration, even if the Emperor's law prohibited them from ever
consummating their love a second time.  This woman reminded him a bit of that
long-lost love, gone so many centuries that her memory had faded, all except
the shape of her eyes as the light had gone out of them and left him on the
battlefield, grieving.

Lucifer was a skillful
enough politician to leave Abaddon to his thoughts as he calculated the
consequences of his actions should he choose, or not choose, to agree to
Lucifer's proposal.  Abaddon, on the other hand, was experienced enough dealing
with Lucifer to know exactly how he was being 'handled.'  It was an old dance
they performed, the old general and the puppet-prince.  This little coup d'état
was about more than simply begetting offspring.  Hashem had upset 200 years of
Lucifer's plans when he'd suddenly returned and Lucifer wanted a little bit of
that control back.  Could Abaddon blame him?

"What are the
terms of your agreement?" Abaddon asked.

“You must keep the
existence of your bride a secret,” Lucifer said.  “Just until I've match-made
enough humans to infertile hybrids such as yourself to reach a critical mass.”

 “What kind of
critical mass?” Abaddon asked.  “Just how much support do you need to get this
override through Parliament?” 

With the exception of
Lucifer, who in theory spoke on behalf of the Eternal Emperor and not his own
species, no hybrid was permitted a vote.  Retired military personnel were,
however, permitted to serve in other civilian capacities and were avidly sought
out by the homeworlds they often spent their entire lives defending.  If
Lucifer could pull enough strings to get his free trade deal rammed through
Parliament, they would
all
benefit.

“Matters of the heart
are … delicate,” Lucifer skillfully directed the conversation.  “The females
must be willing.  Humans accept Angelics because we look like them, but the
other hybrids terrify them.  It would be unfair to help ourselves and not our
brothers-in-arms, don't you agree?”

“Yes,” Abaddon said. 
“She-who-is loves all of her children.”

“I need time to help
them acclimate to Leonids and the Centauri,” Lucifer said.  “You must keep your
bride a secret until I have found a solution for our brothers.”

Abaddon had done some
heavy fighting alongside the other hybrids as well as the newer sentient races
in his years as an Alliance soldier.  If there was one thing he'd learned under
fire, it was that it was not the shape of the species which mattered, but the
valor which lay within their hearts.  He was
not
about to grab a prize
for himself and deny it to the others.  They would all succeed … or fail …
together.

“Of course,” Abaddon
said. 

“I've taken the
liberty of summonsing a priest of She-who-is,” Lucifer said.  “Human custom is
to be married
before
engaging in relations likely to produce offspring. 
Like our species did before the Emperor declared otherwise.  Will you honor
your mate by marrying her before impregnating her?”

“She will agree?”
Abaddon asked.

“Ask her yourself,”
Lucifer said.  “She comes wearing her wedding dress.”

Abaddon could tell the
woman was drugged, but as she made eye contact, butterflies fluttered in his
stomach.  A creature of legend who wanted to marry … him?  Old blood and guts? 
He was painfully aware of the battle-scar which ran from temple to chin, the
one which had split his eyebrow in half and nearly cost him his eye.  Ugly.  No
Angelic female would accept a male with such a hideous scar, much less one who
was also blacklisted for being infertile.  It didn't matter whether or not this
female could produce offspring with him or not.  At
his
age, his dreams
had been reduced to not spending the rest of his life alone.

His heart pounded in
his throat as he asked the question his god had forbidden him to ever ask. 

“My beautiful dear, do
you wish to become my wife?”

He kissed her hand. 
The fog cleared as she looked into his eyes, as though he was staring into the
eyes of that long-lost love, but instead of watching the light go
out
of
them, he watched the light pour back
in.
  He could tell she was a proud
woman by how regally she carried herself, as though she was used to giving
orders.  She murmured something in a language he couldn't understand.  Small
fingers closed trustingly around his larger ones.  Abaddon the Destroyer,
fiercest Air Force general the Alliance had ever seen, thought he might faint.

“It's official!”
Lucifer announced, clapping his hands.  “She shall be your mate for life.”

Abaddon’s head hummed
as the priest read the nuptials.  His wife!  He had a wife!  He couldn't wait
until Lucifer got his trade deal up and running so he could show her off.

“Human females are
used to being kept in harems.”  Lucifer handed the female a Sata’anic burqa, a
garment which covered her from head to toe.  A tiny screen permitted her to see
as she walked.  “She will be most comfortable keeping herself covered except
when she is in the safety of your private quarters.  It will solve the problem
of keeping her identity secret with your crew.” 

“They'll think I have
a non-hybrid mistress,” Abaddon laughed, nearly drunk with joy.  “They'll
speculate I hide an insectoid beneath the veil.”

“Let the crew imagine
what they wish,” Lucifer said.  “You have just won the hand of a creature of
legend.  The truth is more preposterous than their wildest dream!”

“Come with me, my
wife,”  Abaddon shepherded his bride onto his command carrier.  He ordered his
crew to keep the matter of the unknown, veiled creature that was led to his
private quarters quiet under penalty of court martial and to not disturb him
for at least three days.

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