Redemption of Light (The Light Trilogy) by Kathleen M. O'Neal

trace its source down the infinitely complex neural circuitry. When had she felt this way before? Years ago, in another life. Horin 3. They’d been called in to aid the local planetary forces in suppressing a civil war. Carey’s ground troops had been ambushed. The clarity of the memories transfixed her. She could see and feel everything. Her fighter had been hit, the entire tail section slashed off. She’d crashed into the winter dense forests. She’d been lying facedown in the wreckage. A cascade of debris along with the dead body of Sem Nunes had fallen on top of her, his two hundred pounds pressing the air out of her lungs. Blood dripped from his wounds to soak her uniform with hot stickiness. She’d struggled to get up, but couldn’t. Her broken ribs ached as though afire, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Smoke had rolled through the command module and she’d heard the crackle of the flames coming closer, closer.
    “Carey?” Cole’s voice exploded in her memories. Metal squealed as he shoved it out of the way. He’d rolled Nunes off and knelt, his handsome face wild with fear as he got his arms under her shoulders and knees. She could hear the fear in his voice as he shouted, “Carey, can you grab onto me?” She’d gripped his sleeves like a lifeline and he’d thrown all of his strength into dragging her from beneath the debris, then he’d carried her out of the burning wreckage into the glacially cold starlit night. Cole … always Cole … encouraging, soothing her fears. Her captain—and her friend. Warm feelings of love and respect flooded through her mind.
    Someone spoke quietly in the far corner, barely audibly, but it resounded like cannon fire in her ears. “Don’t be an idiot. We trained the woman in how to resist mind probes. We can’t—”
    “We just need to override that conditioning. It’ll take time, perhaps weeks, but eventually we’ll wear her down. Just like we did the Hoyer crew. We’ll get the information, I assure you.”
    “We don’t have time, Doctor. Slothen wants Tahn. He’s waiting right now, and he hasn’t much patience. For that matter, neither do I.”
    “Interrogation takes time, Councillor. We’ll work as fast as we can. You don’t want us to kill our source, do you?”
    Councillor? Carey struggled to look at the man. A member of the Magistrates’ military advisory council? Fear returned. Why such a bigwig? And why did they want Cole so badly? After all these years….
    A violent shudder attacked Carey’s limbs as the new flood of drugs seeped into her body. The lustreglobes on the ceiling seemed to move toward her, growing huge in her field of vision, like a dozen falling moons, tumbling, tumbling down on her. She fought not to cry out.
    “Relax, Lieutenant Halloway. You’re all right. How are you feeling?”
    She said nothing.
    “Come, come, Lieutenant. Carey, we’re your friends. You can talk to us. Tahn is fighting with the Gamant Underground. Isn’t that correct?”
    “Dead,” she lied. “He’s … dead.”
    “Please, don’t make me hurt you. I don’t like hurting my patients.”
    “Lying bastard,” she managed to whisper. “Filthy goddamned … bastards.”
    The doctor shifted positions. His chair creaked. Carey felt a prickle like electricity crawling over her body. Then the probes descended deeper, eating into her brain like the tiny teeth of a million ants.
    Memories welled as the probes stimulated the neural circuitry. She saw her mother’s round face, white and delicate, smiling at her as she sorted fruits from their own orchards, green apples and mono-strawberries. The sweet fragrance of orange blossoms filled the air. Other scenes flashed, mostly battles, filled with mortar blasts and anguished cries. Blood spattered her mental screen. She jerked in her chair, wondering about Horeb. Were Cole and Jeremiel there yet? Had they rescued Mikael and Sybil? Then Jeremiel’s face formed and her fears faded. Tall and handsome, his