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

blond hair shimmered in the slanting rays of afternoon light that dappled through the trees on Garotman 2. The look of love in his blue eyes warmed her. She smiled at him, noting the slightly different color of his eyes. A dozen years before, on Tikkun, he’d been tortured, his right eye burned out. After Rudy and the remnants of the Underground fleet had rescued them, Jeremiel had undergone a painful transplant. Only she could tell the slightly darker color of his left eye. Carey let herself drown in the gentleness of her husband’s touch. They’d been stretched out in a meadow of wildflowers, talking, laughing with each other. The feel of his hand entwined with hers fulfilled some deep need in her. She rubbed his calloused palm affectionately over her cheek.
    An excited voice intruded, “There. Yes, that’s it, Lieutenant. Very good. Tell us about Commander Baruch. Where is he now?”
    Terror wrenched her. She threw all of her strength into lurching forward in her chair and screaming, “NO!”

CHAPTER 9
     
    Yosef Calas, a short, pudgy old man with a round face and soft brown eyes, glanced down at the yellowed map in his hands. The herringbone lines indicated dozens of libraries on this level. The ancient Kings of Edom apparently had a passion for books. Yosef pushed up the spectacles on his nose and scrutinized the jumbled clutter in the corridor in front of him. Red dirt and massive slabs of debris clogged all the halls on level eleven, making it difficult to know precisely where they were at any given moment. The place looked like a caved-in bomb shelter. They’d already passed hundreds of numbered rooms, and a honeycomb of adjacent passageways jutted off from this main one. If they lived a thousand years, they’d never be able to check every possible genizah. Yosef tilted his head to examine the warped ceiling. It could tumble down and squash them flat with only mild provocation.
    Ari Funk came up behind him and peered quizzically at the map. “What are we stopping for?” An extremely tall old man, Ari’s thick gray hair draped around his head like an abused mop. He had a withered triangular face with hollow cheeks and a crooked nose—the remnant of too many well-deserved blows.
    “Ari, do you think—”
    “Shh!” Funk hissed, casting a worried glance at the roofing.
    Yosef’s mouth puckered. “It’s wooden— just like your brain. It can’t hear us.”
    “You’ve always been a skeptic.” Ari accused, grimacing at the ceiling.
    Yosef looked Ari up and down disparagingly. Tipping the map sideways so his friend could see, he asked, “Do you think we’re in the right place?”
    “We must be.” Ari draped an arm over Yosef’s shoulder to tap the ancient crystal sheet. “Remember, we passed room 600 about ten minutes ago.”
    “All right, let’s go on, then.”
    They trudged forward, passing room 613. Yosef’s steps slowed. A curious tingle climbed his spine as he gazed at the ancient scripted numbers. Most of the other doors had lost their identification long ago, casualties of Omias’ numerous attacks on the polar chambers. Only dust-imprinted substitutes remained to taunt the inquiring. But this room seemed miraculously untouched. He glanced down at the map. The square for this room had been darkened in. From years of experience, he knew that meant this chamber had once been sealed.
    Ari demanded, “What’s wrong?” as he poked Yosef in the kidney with a skeletal finger.
    He shook his head. “I don’t know. Apparently this room was sealed just after King Edom first moved into the polar chambers over a thousand years ago. But it doesn’t have the bricked up surface that the other sealed rooms did. Remember?”
    “I remember. So maybe Edom opened it up again for some reason. Does the map say it was a library?”
    He shook his head. “No.”
    “Then let’s go on. Room 703 is the next square marked ‘library.’“
    But Yosef continued to study the door, unable to pull his eyes