Redemption of Light (The Light Trilogy) (44 page)

They scrambled away, lashing out with fists and feet to get free. Nathan panted, “Did you see it, Matthya? The Darkness that hovered over Antipas’ head?”

Matthya stared at him, his brown eyes glistening. “No, Nathan. No, I didn’t see it. But I believe you. Today, Herod marks himself as everything dark in the world.”

Ramadhan, Outside of Mecca, during the year of the Teacher, 4370.

Muhammed lay asleep in a cool cave in the mountains, dreaming of his beautiful wife, Khadija, when a voice intruded.

“Recite!” it commanded.

He frowned in his sleep, not understanding. “Recite what?”

“Recite in the name of the Pure Light!”

“But… what is that? God?”

“Abandon the search for God and the Creation! They are evil. Look for the Light by taking yourself as the starting point. Learn what it is within you that makes everything its own and says, ‘My God, my mind, my thought, my soul, my body.’ Learn the sources of sorrow—and you will find the Light in yourself. Listen to these words, pass them down to the children that they may become Light in the Life of the Silence
…”

When Muhammed awoke, he found the Teachings inscribed on his heart. He set to writing them down as fast as he could.

CHAPTER 46

Amirah propped herself against the lattice divider in her cabin and stared down at the remaining scenes in the Tikkun 5 file. She held a cold cup of taza in her numb hands. Jason sat in her desk chair, a hand cradling his chin, his face contorted.

When the file ended, Jason reached up and turned off the com unit. Amirah noticed that his hand quaked as he dropped it to her paper-littered desk. “I can’t believe it. That file was worse than all the others combined.”

“That’s why I wanted you to see it.”

Jason got up from the desk and went to slump into a chair at her table. He shoved the old books she’d been reading earlier out of the way. “Those were no neurophysiological experiments, Amirah. It was genocide. All those ‘eliminations’ were authorized by the Magistrates.” He rapped his knuckles quietly on the black petrolon top and shook his head. “The documents are clear. There’s no getting out of it.”

She felt so numb she could barely feel at all. Yet her mind and eyes had gone startlingly clear. Her cabin shimmered like cut crystal, every angle unsettlingly sharp; the chiaroscuro of light and shadow had a geometric quality. She’d skimmed every file that Cole had given her the name for, and discovered that the Gamant Project had begun long ago—almost forty years back. That was why her father had been so careful—so brutal in his insistence that no one know she was a Gamant. He’d tried to protect her. He’d worked in the records office.
Surely he must have known what the government was doing.

Known … and done nothing.

Just as she was doing now.

She lifted her cup to take a sip, but it wobbled so badly she lowered it again and clutched it in both hands.

“Amirah?” Jason said quietly. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

He slouched back in his chair. “I think …"He waved a hand futilely. “We should file ethics charges against the officers involved. The Magistrates themselves, if we have to!”

She fumbled with her cup. Tahn’s words twisted in her stomach.
… I’d rather sell my soul to Aktariel than bargain with the Magistrates. At least I’d know the game plan with the Archdeceiver. The government changes policies so swiftly one can never be sure.

Amirah took the chair beside Jason and gazed long and hard into his hazel eyes. All the love and respect he felt for her shone openly. She gave him a soft look. It was the first time he’d ever let himself be vulnerable with her and she wasn’t certain how to handle it. She’d never been certain how to handle it—with anyone. “I don’t know what I would have done without you the past five years, Jason. You’ve always been there when I needed you.”

His eyes went over her face minutely. “I’ll always be there—if you want me to be.”

An ache built in her chest, for him and for her, for a relationship that could never be. If she filed ethics charges against the government, the Magistrates would conduct an in-depth study of Amirah Jossel, just as they had of Cole Tahn, and they’d discover her Gamant heritage. And she’d no longer be captain of the
Sargonid.
And God only knew what they’d do to Jason for being her accomplice.

Amirah stood up and went to the center of her cabin “Jason, I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I don’t want you involved.”

“I’m already involved, Amirah. I can’t just forget those files.”

“No, I know that, I-I meant that whatever I do, I want you safe. I don’t want you or the
Sargonid
contaminated by my actions. I need to think more about this. Then you and I, we’ll talk again. I have to see Tahn first.”

Jason got up from his chair and moved to stand very close behind her. “You can’t bring him to your cabin. It would look suspicious. Why don’t you meet him in one of the lower lounges? I’ll escort him, if that meets your approval.”

“It does. Thank you, Jason.”

The terrible weight of the future pressed down on her and she started to shake visibly. She fought to stop the tremor, but couldn’t. Jason got a horrified look on his face.

She held up a hand to let him know she was all right. “It’s just … just the frustration.”

“I know. I feel it, too.”

He swiftly stepped forward and took her in his arms. She rubbed his broad back gently in gratitude. Only Jason, who had known her in the worst of times, and with whom she’d routinely argued the concepts of “right” and “wrong” could understand how empty and frightened she felt now.

After several seconds, Jason boldly tightened his grip around her. She considered backing away, but she was too tired, and his arms felt so good, so strong—not a fortress like Cole’s arms, but soothing just the same. She forced her thoughts away from Tahn and how deeply she’d come to care about him. If she thought about that tonight, it would tear her apart. When Jason leaned down to kiss her, Amirah found herself kissing him back. She felt too much gratitude for his support and understanding to tell him this was dangerous or that they had no future together, for they might have no future at all. After watching the atrocities on the holos, the latter seemed most likely.

He kissed her very tenderly at first, as though afraid she might pull away, but as the seconds swept by his lips grew harder, more insistent. She felt the muscles of his thighs pressing against hers and a sweet sense of oblivion encompassed her. She let herself go, reveling in his caresses until her body flamed and she found herself responding hungrily. She pulled him tightly against her.

“Oh, Amirah,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry. I know it makes things harder. But I—”

She covered his lips with hers, halting the words as she reached up and started to unfasten his uniform shirt. The thick mat of light brown hair on his chest brushed against her fingers as she pulled the purple fabric back and sank against his bare chest. “Jason, for tonight, lets pretend there’s no
Sargonid,
no government, no Gamants. Just you and me, alone in a meadow somewhere high in the mountains.”

He nuzzled his cheek against her hair. “That won’t be difficult for me, Amirah. I’ve been dreaming it for over a year.”

His muscles swelled against the fabric of his uniform as he swung her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her across the room to her bed.

Jason woke when Amirah rolled over onto her back. He yawned and blinked at the dark ceiling. Only the amber light from the bedside com unit lit the room, silhouetting the table and chairs and throwing their strange shadows across the far wall. Amirah whispered inaudibly, dreaming. He listened and smiled.
So you talk in your sleep? I’d like to get used to hearing that.
She shifted and groggily grabbed for the sheet, pulling it up over her bare breasts, then she lowered her arm and her fingers moved across the blanket, seeking the feel of his flesh. When she touched his forearm, she squeezed it weakly and relaxed again. Her hair tumbled across the pillow they shared. Jason lifted a lock and brushed it over his face.

The past year had been so agonizing that he could barely believe he was really here in her cabin. He felt as though a deep and aching wound had at last healed and he could breathe freely again without his chest constricting in pain. Tenderly, he touched her shoulder and whispered, “I love you, Amirah.” He knew she couldn’t hear, but he’d wanted to tell her for so long that just saying the words roused joy in him.

She moved slightly and muttered something incomprehensible. Then she said the word “sick,” and a soft series of sounds escaped her parted lips, as though she might be crying.

Jason frowned and rolled onto his side. He touched her cheek. “Amirah?” he murmured. “You’re dreaming.”

“Sefer?”
she whispered thickly. “Grandmama? Where are you…. Sefer Raziel? Grandmama. …”

“It’s me, Amirah.”

Her voice drifted into nothingness and she fell back into a deep sleep. Jason smiled fondly, but his expression turned stern almost immediately. Raziel.
Sefer?
It might be. A hot tide flooded his system. He carefully slid out of bed without waking Amirah and pulled on his uniform pants. Going to her com unit, he sat down and brought up the “Raziel” file again. He went through the entire routine and when the com

INPUT CLANDESTINE CROSS-REFERENCE AND PROCEED.

He typed:
SEFER.

The screen instantly changed. Colors flickered. A holo began.

Jason eased back in the chair and folded his arms over his naked chest, watching.

A bright room appeared, a little girl slumping sideways in a probe chair. It had to be Amirah. Even at such a young age he’d recognize those dazzling turquoise eyes. Magistrate Slothen paced in front of her, four of his six legs carrying him across the floor.

The audio came up and Jason quickly reached over to turn it down. But Amirah seemed to hear. She made a soft sound and her hands started twitching on top of her gray blanket. Jason looked back to the holo. The hands of the little girl in the chair twitched, too.

Intrigued, he braced an elbow on the desk and turned the com screen slightly to the right, so he could watch the little girl and Amirah simultaneously. His Amirah seemed to be living the episode. When the child wrung her hands nervously, Amirah flinched. When the child cried out as the old woman was shoved through the door, Amirah moaned.

Jason’s eyes shifted back and forth, watching both, listening in growing panic to the audio portion.
What the hell was Slothen doing?

When the little girl’s eyes went empty and she began struggling frantically with the old woman, Jason suddenly understood. Young Amirah saw something much different happening in the room than Sefer Raziel did.
Programmed.
He forced a swallow down his dust dry throat.

Fear soured in his belly. Did Slothen do this to all his top officers—or just to Amirah Jossel? The very thought made him go glacially cold inside. Every officer was mandated to undergo a psych evaluation annually. What did those neurobiologists do to them when they were under the probes?

On the bed beside him, his captain thrashed weakly, uttering soft suffocating sounds. Then she went stone still.

Jason looked back to the holo and saw Slothen enter the room and hand the child a pistol. In horror, he studied the way young Amirah lifted the weapon and aimed it like a trained war veteran.

Slothen’s words about serpents mystified Jason, but he grasped the import when the child screamed and fell to the floor.
Part of the programming. But what’s it mean? Where’s the real life referent? There was always a referent.

Then, in the midst of the fight, the child lifted the pistol …

Amirah sat bolt upright in bed.

Jason whirled to stare. Tangled blonde hair created a thick web over her face.

He jerked at the sound of the shot.

Amirah dove for him, knocking him out of the desk chair and shrieking like a madwoman. He hit the floor hard, struggling to throw her off without hurting her. She kicked and punched insanely, and
inexpertly,
screaming in a child’s voice,
“No! No! NO! Grandmama?”

Twisting out of his grip, she scrambled across the floor.
“No! Magistrate, no! Not my grandmama! NO, MAGISTRATE, PLEASE!”

“Amirah!” Jason shouted.

He ran across the floor, trying to pick her up, but she fought him wildly, hysterically, clawing at his face and arms until blood ran down his hands. “Amirah! It’s Jason! Wake up. You’re aboard the
Sargonid.
You’re not on Palaia Station.
Wake up!”

She screamed unintelligibly and lunged. Jason blocked a punch aimed at his throat and grabbed her shoulders, then threw her sideways and roiled over on top of her to straddle her naked body. “Amirah? It’s me, Jason! Do you hear me?”

Amirah sobbed, eyes wide and glazed with utter terror. Her limbs flailed like a dying spider’s.

“Amirah,” he said as calmly as he could. “Are you all right?”

After several minutes, her tears stopped, but her body still spasmed all over. In a husky voice, she whispered, “Jason? Get Tahn.”