Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (74 page)

Lichtner targeted the next child.

“Major!” Rachel shouted. She took a step down the staircase. “Not the children! No more!”

He gave her a disdainful glare. “You’ve been around Tahn too long, Sergeant. You’ve picked up his sentimentalism. We mustn’t permit ourselves to be robbed of the legitimate uses of terror just because a few stupid, bourgeois mollycoddlers exist in our own ranks!”

He whirled to glare at Tahn, who had stopped, nostrils quivering in rage. The gurney and interns still rushed headlong toward the shuttle. Rachel saw them exit the front gate and enter the shuttle. Lichtner lifted his pistol again and aimed at the next child—the little almond-eyed one, so skinny he seemed nearly transparent in his white gown. A gust of wind pressed the fabric to his narrow chest, revealing thin bars of ribs. The boy reached out to Lichtner, crying incomprehensible words. The black-bearded man in the Gamant ranks, shrieked, “No! No! For the sake of God, she’s just a baby! Leave her alone!”

She? Rachel’s heart jammed against her ribs. Girls. They were all girls. Lichtner’s words congealed into a horrifying truth. Suddenly, every child’s face became Sybil’s. Every pitiful cry sounded like one she’d heard and comforted a thousand times.

Lichtner hesitated, smiling at Rachel. “Any poltroon who can’t bear suffering had better get out of the service! Eh, Sergeant? Perhaps your captain should join a sewing circle?” The twenty guards around him laughed deprecatingly.

Lichtner lifted his pistol again, sighting on the child.

The entire world died around Rachel. The brutal laughter of the guards no longer accosted her ears. She could see Tahn’s mouth moving in desperate shouts—but she couldn’t hear him. He started to run back. Only when he fell into a crouch and his hand dropped for his pistol did she awaken again to the terror.

Her thumb pushed up the safety with cold efficiency. Lichtner stood so close, she barely had to aim. She felt the slight vibration of the rifle when she pulled the trigger. The shot caught Lichtner in the lower back, ripping him in half, flinging his bloody upper torso into the circle of his guards. They stood stunned, cruel smiles still lingering, frozen on their faces. Rachel numbly panned the group, killing a dozen in the first sweep of her rifle, then a half-dozen more as she brought the barrel back around.

Tahn’s pistol whined shrilly and she could hear him now. “Rachel, get down!
Get down!
”

She dove for the red soil as pandemonium broke loose. She hit the wet soil, crawling. A shot flashed in front of her, spraying dirt and stinging gravel into her face. She rolled, scrambling madly for cover. The whine of discharging rifles and screams rose to a deafening roar.

“Get their guns!” she heard someone yell and saw the black-bearded man running with his girl on his hip, a rifle in one arm. “We can fight them!” he screamed.
“We can fight them!”

Everywhere, Gamants burst up like a flock of frightened birds, flying into the guards in wave after wave, taking their weapons, racing like starved wolves through the compound, killing, killing, killing.

“Rachel!” Tahn yelled.

He was running headlong back for her, pistol spitting blares of purple. She got to her feet and ran to meet him. He grabbed her arm in the hard careless grip of a stranger. “Hurry! This way!”

Dragging her behind a tall gray building, he released her and they ran, darting down a long alley, passing bin after bin of dead children. Rachel’s soul twisted in unendurable agony.
Aktariel. ., I can understand now why you….

Over his shoulder, Tahn shouted, “In about two minutes this place is going to explode with insane Gamants with guns—and you and I are going to be among their first targets!”

The purple uniform clinging in drenched folds to her body suddenly became her greatest enemy. She picked up her feet and ran madly. They rounded a corner, heading for the front gate, and collided head-on with a group of four Magisterial soldiers. The enemy stumbled in surprise. Tahn didn’t even break stride. He killed them quickly, cleanly, with single bursts from his pistol. Grabbing Rachel’s sleeve, he swung her around the carnage and headed her down a new alley. “Go. Go! Run hard!”

Her feet pounded on the muddy ground. Ahead, she glimpsed the front gate. She raced for it, leaping a jumbled mess of empty crates piled in the alley.

“Rachel, stop!”

She had to grab the drainage chamber on the corner of the building to slow herself down. Tahn ran up behind her, eyes wide and hard, easing up to peer around the corner. “Damn it.”

“What is it?”

“There are fifty guards in front of the gate. They’ve erected barricades.”

“How are we going to get out? What about Jeremiel?” Panic gripped her like an iron fist.

“He’s either in the shuttle or he’s not. We haven’t time to….”

From nowhere, everywhere, a mayhem of insane screams erupted, feet pounding, rifles and pistols splitting the cool rain-drenched wind. Like a rumbling tidal wave, it came, rushing thunderously toward the gate. Tahn slammed an arm across her chest, forcing Rachel back against the wall, out of sight. A foul-smelling wave of men, women, and children threw themselves at the barricade.

And a violet lightning storm of death slashed the rainy world.

Through the narrow slit between buildings, Rachel saw hundreds stagger to fall face-first into the dirt. How long? How long did she stand there, Tahn’s hard arm pressing into her breasts, listening to his rapid breathing? A minute? Two? Finally, the shrieks of death turned into a rushing symphony of disbelieving triumph.

She started to edge forward, but a dull thudding of erratic steps sounded and three Gamants in blood-soaked white gowns tumbled into the alley with them. Tahn started to shove Rachel to the ground, but stopped in mid-push. The men were dead, bodies slashed fatally. Blood shot in spurts from their mangled wounds.

Tahn took a step forward and then turned to stare wild-eyed at Rachel. “Get out of your clothes!” he ordered.

In a flash of flying arms and legs, she’d undressed. She stood naked, her olive skin shiny with sweat. He barely looked at her as he stripped one of the victims and threw a blood-soaked white robe her way. She slipped it over her head, studying the red splatters. Blood shed for all of them…. She lowered her fingers to touch the moist spots. In front of her, Tahn undressed. For a brief instant she allowed her gaze to linger on the hard swell of muscles covering his tall body. A few fading bruises blotched his upper arms and chest. Jeremiel’s attack in the landing bay? She wanted to reach out and soothe those hurts in penance for all the Gamant hurts he’d ever suffered.

He straightened up and caught the look on her face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re on our side.”

He gave her a brief smile and threw her uniform at her. “Tuck it up under your gown.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her around the corner into an undulating sea of Gamant bodies.

“Don’t let go of me!” he shouted.

They struggled to stay upright in the shoving, crying swarm that surged up and over the dead bodies of Magisterial soldiers, bursting like a raging river through the barricades.

Beyond the gate, Rachel saw their shuttle gleaming a tarnished silver beneath the cloudy skies. Rain beaded on the hull like glistening tears. Gamants washed around it heedlessly, more interested in running as far and fast as they could from Block 10 than in investigating government property. They sprinted out across the desert like bloody beasts set free from ancient cages.

Tahn dragged her toward the shuttle’s side doors. He hit the patch and she hustled through the open door. Once inside, he locked it. Rachel saw Jeremiel and inhaled a deep grateful breath. The interns had secured his gurney to a bench with EM restraints before fleeing the shuttle. He lay deathly still, but she saw the rise and fall of his broad chest. He’d managed to lift his pistol. It still lay clenched in his hand and propped across his stomach. His eye fluttered open.

In a barely audible voice, he asked, “… All right?”

“Yes,” she answered as she went to his bedside. “We liberated the camp. Lichtner’s dead.”

His eye fell closed and almost instantly, he went limp, head rolling to the side in sleep—or unconsciousness. She gripped his wrist, checking his pulse, then shook her head, realizing he’d forced himself to stay awake to wait for them. And she strongly suspected that had he needed to, had they not come back, he’d have gotten out of that bed somehow and crawled every inch of the way to find them.

“Come on,” Tahn said curtly. “They’re rallying out there.” He sprinted into the command cabin.

Rachel tenderly stroked Jeremiel’s pistol hand before following.

CHAPTER 56

Rudy Kopal paced the bridge of the
Zilpah,
glaring at the image of the
Hoyer
hanging lifelessly before him. The cruiser,
Klewe,
had just flown in, dispatched a shuttle and received cargo or a
prisoner
and hastily retreated, running for the vault like a bat out of the pit of darkness. Four other cruisers sat in a semicircular formation around the
Hoyer.
Protecting her?

“Merle? Any intraship communications?”

“None.” She shoved black hair over her shoulder. “All we know, Rudy, is that they’re not firing on the
Hoyer.
Surely if Jeremiel were in control. …” She let the sentence dangle like a sword over his head. He swallowed the pain that rose.

“You think that ship was picking him up?”

“Unknown. But we’ll be in range of those cruisers in exactly four minutes. Who do I target first, Rudy?”

He felt hatred well up inside him, hatred and desperate fear. Where was Jeremiel? How far had the Magistrates’ programs gone on Tikkun? How many Gamants were still alive down there? Rudy folded his arms and hugged himself tightly. On the adjacent monitors, he saw his own ships forming up behind him, facing off against Tahn’s. He rushed back to his command chair. “Merle, try to contact our bases on the planet. We’ll need ground support when we—”

“Rudy?”
Merle shouted.

He whirled. On the righthand monitor, seven ships dropped out of vault behind them, hurtling forward insanely. He dove for his arm console, checking the readings.
“That lead ship is one of ours. Merle, target
—“

Before he could finish the command, a dagger of violet shot out, slamming the lead ship. It burst open like a dropped egg, fragments spinning hideously, fires blazing through every portion and instantly freezing. Clouds of vapor congealed around the tumbling wreckage.

“We’re picking up a cross-message, Rudy.”

“Put it on audio.”

His breathing went shallow as Penzer Gorgon’s distinct baritone rang out, reporting the kill of the Underground vessel
Vinnitsa,
and requesting instructions for his role in the Tikkun maneuver. Rudy eased down into his command chair. Shoshi Luna had been in command. Her steel gray eyes seemed to stare out of the wreckage at him. Shoshi had been with Qaf around Abulafia. What did that mean about the rest of the fleet? A cold tingle traced its way up his spine.

“Sixty seconds to range, Rudy. What are we doing?”

He glared at the
Hoyer,
hanging so placidly in space. “We’ll hit Tahn. Tell Cray, Jesse, Petras, and Diro to choose and target the other four. Have Mica and Lansford run a flanking maneuver. They’ll need to try to cover our tails from Gorgon’s fleet.”

Carey’s heart went cold in her chest as the first shot blasted the
Hoyer’s
shields, sending blinding waves of purple across the screens. Alert sirens blared, blue lights flashing over the bridge. “Uriah!” she screamed, “Get them on com! Who the hell is that?”

From the far corner of the ship where Dannon sat on the floor, knees drawn against his chest, a low laugh rumbled, growing louder. Black hair hung in a drenched mop around his pale handsome face.

“Dannon, damn you! Shut your mouth. Do you know who that is?”

He threw his head back, laughing so hysterically he could barely speak. “Uriah … send to the
Zilpah.
Rudy … Rudy Kopal in command.”

“Belay that order!” Carey shouted as Uriah started to key in the sequence. Her face slackened. She lowered herself into her chair.
The Underground? And she had no weapons!

“Carey, darling,” Dannon cooed. “If I were you, I’d get on com rather quickly. You really must send something that sounds distinctly like Jeremiel.”

She gripped her chair arms hard. “I don’t need your advice, Dannon! What if Bogomil intercepts a message like that?”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “Bogomil isn’t currently firing at you. I’d worry about him later. At this particular moment, Kopal needs to hear something subtle and reassuring, like,
Rudy, what the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be on my side!
That, Lieutenant, will certainly get his attention.”

The second shot seemed to spin out of nowhere, everywhere in its proximity. Repeated cannon shots. They slammed the
Hoyer
brutally. The ship lunged sideways, throwing half her bridge crew on the floor. Carey clung desperately to the command chair. Sirens blared in her ears, broken, erratic. The three-sixty monitors flashed partial damage-control data. Shields four and five gone. Level seventeen breached.