WHAT HAPPENED TO all or nothing?” Sabira asked.
“I’m afraid if we don’t stop Godsfall now,” Persia said, “nothing is all that will be left for any of us.”
“You don’t think Gabriel was right?”
“Of course, I do. He exemplifies the Embassy’s ideals. But he wants both God and fresh dates.”
“Then why . . . ?”
“Because often there is more than one truth. Your Grandfather Spear was right as well. If weakness exists at the heart of this Godsfall that only you can exploit, then we must act while we still can.” Persia’s hair shifted to hues of dark red and glossy black. She closed her eyes and took a centering breath. When she opened them again, they glittered with renewed intensity.
“Once aboard the Shishiguchi, what’s your plan on making it to Daggeira?”
The lift lowered them past complex knots of machinery.
“I’ll leave that part to Orion.”
“This battle is easily the largest confrontation the cluster has seen in years,” Persia said. “The gollum doesn’t recognize his node.”
“What?”
“Sorry. My Fajik idioms don’t always translate so well. It means that chaos is upon us. Navigating through that chaos and destruction to rendezvous with the superweapon seems . . . impossible.”
“Impossible is what Orion does best.”
“You have that much faith in the Adept?”
“Don’t need faith when you have proof.”
As they descended to the deck below, Commander Tauro Arkrider, Lieutenant Tavia Djeli, and their squad of marines marched into view.
“What’s your plan on making it past the Commander?” Sabira asked.
“Negotiations are what I do best.”
The doors slid open. Commander Tauro Arkrider stood with Lieutenant Tavia Djeli at his side, not leaving space for them to take a single step off of the lift.
“—Huh. As I remember it, we had a deal that the Emissary would keep the primeros safely tucked away in sanctuary four, so we wouldn’t have to get involved.” Arkrider tilted his head toward Djeli without taking his eyes off Persia and Sabira. “Is that how you remember it, Lieutenant?”
“—Aye, sir.”
“—Good thing there’s plenty of room on the lift for the two of us, then. Going up.”
Persia positioned herself in front of Sabira, face to face with Tauro. “Happen to look out a window recently, Commander?”
“—I do believe that the Godsfall weapon—the same superweapon our guest here declined to give us a full debriefing on—has followed them from beyond the Gates Infernal.”
“Ah, so we’re already in agreement. Excellent,” Persia said. “Because of her unique experience, Sabira is our best hope at stopping Godsfall’s incursion.”
“—The primera is not going anywhere near it.”
“We’re heading straight for it already. Haven’t you checked in with the helm?”
“—Tavia?”
The lieutenant’s eyes flickered. “—Ops confirms we’re being pulled in. Slicers and sublights are down, but engineering thinks they can get the sublights back online soon. Captain just issued orders for all non-essentials to commence evac. Flight crews are prepping shuttles.”
“—Then I guess we better get our asylees safely escorted to those shuttles. If you don’t mind stepping back inside, Emissary, we have lives to save.”
Persia stood her ground. “Unless Godsfall is stopped, no one will be saved. Now if you wouldn’t mind stepping you and your squad aside, Commander, I need to get Sabira to where she can make a difference and maybe save all our lives. Every moment spent playing this game draws us closer to that war zone.”
Tauro Arkrider’s deep-set eyes peered over the Emissary’s shoulder and locked on Sabira. “—You have the know-how to stop this thing, primera?”
“If I don’t, we’re all drilled anyway. And my name is Sabira.”
“—Going to have to give me more than that, Sabira.”
During Persia’s brief exchange with the commander, Sabira admired how deftly the Emissary maneuvered through it, sidestepping the dead ends he laid in her path, turning blind corners into straight shots toward her goal. All without resorting to insults or flared tempers. Now it was up to Sabira to find the way through.
“Orion and I have people inside that thing. We both have unfinished obligations with them. And they have unfinished obligations with us. They’ll let us in. Let us get close. Us and no one else. If we don’t, no one will. No one else can.”
“—It’s a call of duty then?”
“Yes.”
“—We know a thing or two about duty, don’t we, Lieutenant?”
“—Aye, sir.” Tavia Djeli did that thing again, where Sabira couldn’t tell if she was smiling or not.
Arkrider turned to address the marines. “—Lieutenant Djeli is in command. Keep our guests secure and evac them to the shuttles without delay. Stargazer, Emissary Moradi, you’re with me.”
Sabira started to protest before a sharp look from the Emissary cut her short. The commander was already headed down the corridor between the ranks of marines, and they had to hurry to catch up.
“Why are you doing this?” Sabira asked.
Arkrider didn’t break his stride. “—Maria Moses and the Final Exodus.”
Sabira looked to Persia, who rolled her eyes.
“—All those stories about the lost diaspora I grew up with,” Arkrider said. “I know you’re not Maria Moses, but you’re as damn close as I’m ever going to get. Maybe some part of me wants to help the primeros fight the Slavers.”
That sounded like complete grankshit. The commander must have some trick to pull. Why would he make decisions based on stories from his youth? Yet she had done the same most of her life. The stories about Gods and Divine Masters and the brave Servants who brought Divine Will to the galaxy shaped nearly every major decision she’d ever made. Until she drank eon.
Was she as liberated as she thought? Was Playa right, and she was the same person she’d always been, living according to the same stories she always had? After all, she headed straight for battle instead of staying alongside her brood.
Heading straight for battle is the only way I can keep my brood safe. And if I’m wrong, then I’ll find out if these truly are the Gates of Heaven—or Hell.
“—Or maybe I just want to make a good impression on the Emissary,” Tauro said with a backward look and a wink.
Sabira found that easy enough to believe.
They passed through narrow passages of bland gray until they came to a wide, reinforced door to the same hangar bay she’d arrived in. Five sleek shuttles waited inside. Technicians busily prepped three of them. The other two were ready to launch.
“—Crew chief, I’m taking this first one. My squad and the asylees from sanctuary four will be here momentarily,” Arkrider called out. Turning to Sabira, he pulled a thick gray rectangle from his belt and handed it to her. It bore the same star pattern insignia he wore on his shoulder.
“—Armored vac suit. Preprogrammed and locked forma. Clip it to your belt. Hold your finger on that star there. Now it’s keyed to you. Tap that star twice and try to hold still. Tap the collar for the helmet. If there’s a loss of air pressure, the helmet forms automatically.”
She tapped twice and watched the rectangle quickly shrink as slice after slice poured from it. Armor encased her from feet to collar bones. Sabira pointed at the squad emblem of the horned animal over her heart. “This thing come off?”
“—It does not. And you’re welcome. I’m flying. Get strapped in tight in the hold.”
Before Sabira could step through the shuttle’s airlock, Persia gently took her arm. “This is where I leave you in the commander’s hands. I need to get back and help Emissary Mbala and Lieutenant Djeli.”
“Keep them safe.”
“Where you’re going, there is no safety, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But I’d like to share one last thing, while I can.” Persia held both of Sabira’s hands between her own. The band of gold threads on her brow glinted beneath the hangar lights. “Inside all of us are many voices. Each has its own truth. I’ve seen your struggle to understand which voice to heed. Sometimes, the way to navigate the dangers that lay ahead is not to choose one truth or the other, but to find the balance that unifies them within.
Now go stop that thing. And do try to come back in one piece.”