away.”
“Thanks … Grandpa.”
He fell into a deep, deep sleep.
CHAPTER 8
Rachel stood anxiously at the portal and watched the Hoyer loom closer. She’d showered and dressed in a tan jumpsuit she’d found on board. Damp black hair draped in waves to her waist, accenting the unnatural paleness of her olive skin. She could see dozens of ships, shimmering like white and black beetles against the background of sunlight that washed space. Most waited in line behind her ship, but some edged in from the side trying to squeeze ahead.
It amazed and frightened her. She’d lived her entire life on a backward planet at the edge of the galaxy. As a result, she had only a bare understanding of technology. What she could see, she could understand almost immediately. Rifles came second nature to her, regardless of fancy gadgetry or sophistication, but invisible things still baffled her: shields, EM restraints, “Uncertainty Principle” wizardry such as the engines that powered these ships.
She edged closer to the portal, studying the planet whirling below. Only the polar caps still lay untouched by the runaway fires and devastation. A roiling band of maroon clouds coiled around the central regions like a great deadly serpent.
“So that’s what a scorch attack does,” she whispered. She’d heard about such attacks on other Gamant planets, but had never grasped the awesome magnitude. The drought on Horeb had been so bad that the dry vegetation covering the deserts must have ignited instantly.
She forced herself to look away, turning to the dimly lit room. Her heart ached for a home that no longer existed, and for her daughter. It was such a painful longing, she felt if she stayed another moment on this starkly lit samael her soul would waste away to nothingness. She needed the warmth of candlelight and the calming salve of her daughter Sybil’s love to ease her inner anguish.
For hours, her tired mind had gone round and round the same deeply graven circle of confusing thoughts. Aktariel…
“No,” she whispered harshly to herself. “Not now. Wait until you can stand it.”
She couldn’t allow herself to think about Aktariel or Adom just now or she’d fall into a million …
A soft creak sounded behind her and she whirled breathlessly, expecting Aktariel to materialize out of nothing. Only a silent white room met her searching gaze. So often, now, she imagined hearing the soft rustle of a long velvet cloak. Her heart hammered at such moments. She found herself always waiting for him, as though she stood in an enormous palace with thousands of rooms and he toiled just on the other side of the wall. At every small noise she strained to hear the sound of his too-silent footfalls coming for her.
She gripped the fabric at her throat, trying to calm her breathing.
“Miss Eloel?”
The tall copilot, Emil Bakon, peered around the open door. He had a swarthy face and eyes as black as coal. Dressed in the gray uniform of one of Adom’s palace guards, he cut a debonair figure that sent a violent ache through her. Was he still loyal to the Mashiah? Did he know she’d murdered Adom?
“Yes?”
“We’re going in soon. Jeremiel sent word that he’ll meet you in the landing bay. Could you strap in, please? Just hit the blue patch on the arm of the chair.”
“Yes, of course.”
He nodded and disappeared into the command cabin. Rachel went to a seat. Hitting the button, she felt the restraints pull tight around her like a curious tingling net.
She closed her eyes against the foreign feelings it stirred.
The cramped admin room outside of Engineering smelled of sweat and stale coffee. Yosef Calas smoothed a hand over his bald head and gazed at the guard who lounged over a long white console reading a technical manual, then he looked around the half-moon shaped cabin. Computer screens covered the walls of the small, efficiently organized room. They displayed information in a variety of colors. Through the
“Thanks … Grandpa.”
He fell into a deep, deep sleep.
CHAPTER 8
Rachel stood anxiously at the portal and watched the Hoyer loom closer. She’d showered and dressed in a tan jumpsuit she’d found on board. Damp black hair draped in waves to her waist, accenting the unnatural paleness of her olive skin. She could see dozens of ships, shimmering like white and black beetles against the background of sunlight that washed space. Most waited in line behind her ship, but some edged in from the side trying to squeeze ahead.
It amazed and frightened her. She’d lived her entire life on a backward planet at the edge of the galaxy. As a result, she had only a bare understanding of technology. What she could see, she could understand almost immediately. Rifles came second nature to her, regardless of fancy gadgetry or sophistication, but invisible things still baffled her: shields, EM restraints, “Uncertainty Principle” wizardry such as the engines that powered these ships.
She edged closer to the portal, studying the planet whirling below. Only the polar caps still lay untouched by the runaway fires and devastation. A roiling band of maroon clouds coiled around the central regions like a great deadly serpent.
“So that’s what a scorch attack does,” she whispered. She’d heard about such attacks on other Gamant planets, but had never grasped the awesome magnitude. The drought on Horeb had been so bad that the dry vegetation covering the deserts must have ignited instantly.
She forced herself to look away, turning to the dimly lit room. Her heart ached for a home that no longer existed, and for her daughter. It was such a painful longing, she felt if she stayed another moment on this starkly lit samael her soul would waste away to nothingness. She needed the warmth of candlelight and the calming salve of her daughter Sybil’s love to ease her inner anguish.
For hours, her tired mind had gone round and round the same deeply graven circle of confusing thoughts. Aktariel…
“No,” she whispered harshly to herself. “Not now. Wait until you can stand it.”
She couldn’t allow herself to think about Aktariel or Adom just now or she’d fall into a million …
A soft creak sounded behind her and she whirled breathlessly, expecting Aktariel to materialize out of nothing. Only a silent white room met her searching gaze. So often, now, she imagined hearing the soft rustle of a long velvet cloak. Her heart hammered at such moments. She found herself always waiting for him, as though she stood in an enormous palace with thousands of rooms and he toiled just on the other side of the wall. At every small noise she strained to hear the sound of his too-silent footfalls coming for her.
She gripped the fabric at her throat, trying to calm her breathing.
“Miss Eloel?”
The tall copilot, Emil Bakon, peered around the open door. He had a swarthy face and eyes as black as coal. Dressed in the gray uniform of one of Adom’s palace guards, he cut a debonair figure that sent a violent ache through her. Was he still loyal to the Mashiah? Did he know she’d murdered Adom?
“Yes?”
“We’re going in soon. Jeremiel sent word that he’ll meet you in the landing bay. Could you strap in, please? Just hit the blue patch on the arm of the chair.”
“Yes, of course.”
He nodded and disappeared into the command cabin. Rachel went to a seat. Hitting the button, she felt the restraints pull tight around her like a curious tingling net.
She closed her eyes against the foreign feelings it stirred.
The cramped admin room outside of Engineering smelled of sweat and stale coffee. Yosef Calas smoothed a hand over his bald head and gazed at the guard who lounged over a long white console reading a technical manual, then he looked around the half-moon shaped cabin. Computer screens covered the walls of the small, efficiently organized room. They displayed information in a variety of colors. Through the
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