Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (12 page)

To protect the Light he adored.

The vaulted ceiling depicted, again and again, the guardian Ki had created ripping apart putrid green vortexes filled with infection. A sense of fear settled into Raphael's gut. Protection? For whom? Not for
them
! Whatever He-who's-not touched, he destroyed.

She-who-is wept bitter tears,

To see her playthings broken,

The Dark Lord couldn't bear her grief,

And offered his mate a token.

To keep the balance so he could protect her,

They would play a game of chess.

She-who-is would create new pieces.

He-who’s-not would reclaim the rest.

"Is that where the legends that says the Emperor and Shay'tan play chess together comes from?" Raphael asked.

"The Emperor and Shay'tan really
do
play chess." Jophiel pointed up at the chess board on the ceiling. "As does every other pair of guardians the two appoint to watch over their galaxies. It keeps the old gods busy and out of trouble."

"You mean that legend is real?" Raphael raised a golden eyebrow in surprise.

Jophiel lowered her long, blonde lashes. "I have seen it with my own eyes." Her lips curved up in a breathtaking smile. "Though to call the galactic resource map a chessboard would be like calling the Eternal Tree a twig.

Raphael glanced out the glass doors which opened up into the Eternal Garden. At its center grew the
real
Eternal Tree whose branches rose above the palace like a beautiful, many-armed woman who reached skyward to touch the sun. It was rumored the Eternal Tree had been planted here the day the Eternal Emperor had founded the Alliance 152,000 years ago and that, so long as this tree grew here, the Alliance would thrive. He studied the ceiling which he now understood was a history of their universe.

The Emperor resumed his story for Uriel about She-who-is and the Dark Lord.

But both must remain ever-vigilant,

Against Moloch’s eventual return,

He sends forth Agents to pave the way,

To escape the hell whence he burns.

When Moloch gains a foothold,

And desires to be fed,

She-who-is shall appoint a Chosen One

To warn of Moloch’s spread.

HE shall send a winged Champion

A demi-god fair and just,

A Sword of the Gods to defend the people,

And raise armies from the dust.

As Moloch corrupts Agents to do his work,

So shall Ki appoint Watchmen to do HERS,

From the ashes of despair,

When all appears lost,

Hidden Agents shall choose to serve HER.

"Agents?" Raphael's ears perked up. "What agents?" As a high-ranking officer who worked within the intelligence community, he was intensely interested in the fields of insurgency and counter-insurgency. Why hadn't he ever heard this portion of the Song of Ki? Had it been, like that fifth species which had been painted over in the rotunda, part of Alliance history which had been suppressed?

"Those green things are Moloch's agents." Jophiel pointed up at the putrid green blotches that preceded each incident of the Dark Lord destroying swaths of the universe. "They're cohorts, supporters, people who worship Moloch and try to help him gain a foothold here so he can get at She-who-is."

"And where are these Watchmen?" Raphael scrutinized the frescoes. "Ki's counter-agents."

"I
still
can't spot them in the mural," Jophiel said. "Although the Emperor insists they are there. Nobody recognizes an Agent of Ki until
after
they've completed their mission. Not even the gods."

The Emperor finished reading the story for Uriel:

True love will inspire the Other One,

To pierce her heart upon a thorn,

And bring back hope where there is none.

For agape can access Ki’s Song.

When all the players have made their moves,

And the Morning Star shines bright,

He shall light the way through the darkest hour,

And restore the path of Light…

And if these measures should someday fail,

And Ki’s protections fall,

The Dark Lord shall seize his vessel,

And protect the Light by destroying them all.

Raphael shuddered at hearing the last line of the poem. "That sounds ominous."

"It is," the Emperor said.

Raphael turned to face his emperor and god.

"I just wanted you to know what's
really
at stake if what I fear has been set in motion."

"You think this Moloch-god is sniffing around your Alliance?"

"I have no proof," the Emperor said. He handed Uriel down into Jophiel's waiting arms. "Only a bad feeling about certain coincidences."

"Such as?"

"The rebellion of my son!" The Emperor's golden eyes waxed copper with anger, giving Raphael the impression they were filled with fire. "The sudden re-emergence of a species that went missing 74,000 years ago. And other … incidents … that I care not to go into."

The Emperor slid down off his throne, surprisingly short for a god who commanded such an imposing presence. Raphael tucked his wings against his back and prepared to be demoted, smote by lightning, or at minimum, lectured. It was time to answer for his crime.

"What are your orders, Sir?" Raphael asked.

A small door behind the throne opened and Uriel's froglike Delphinium nanny, Nanna Oophaga, hop-hobbled out, bumping against her an assortment of over-stuffed packages. Behind her the Emperor's chief geneticist and Muqquibat advisor, Dephar, click-click-clicked across the marble floor bent over his cane, a small tray balanced in his free hand.

Raphael
felt
before he
saw
the tears which Jophiel suppressed.

"Sir?" Raphael asked.

Nanna Oophaga puffed out her pale, yellow throat pouch and gave a nervous
carroak
as she fumbled her packages before the Emperor and bent to grab them, nearly butting her head onto Master Yoritomo's armor.

"Y-y-your Majesty!" Nanna Oophaga croaked.

"Good day, Madam," the Emperor gave her a reassuring smile. "I want you to know how much I appreciate the sacrifice you are making."

"En-en-anything for you, Sir," Nanna Oophaga fumbled with the packages, not sure whether to salute, bow, or curtsy. She finally did a combination of all three. The packages tumbled onto the floor.

Uriel reached towards her with a delighted gurgle while the gorock immediately hid
behind Jophiel. One amphibious creature to another, Nanna Oophaga didn't put up with any of the gorock's antics.

"Did you remember his stuffed
iompróidh?"
Jophiel asked.

"Yes, Sir," Nanna Oophaga said. "And his blankie. The one Major Klikrrr's mother knit for him."

"This will only pinch," Dephar said. The Muqqibat dragon pulled a syringe out from under a napkin which hid the implements he carried on the tray. "I suggest you hold down that gorock, Brigadier-General Israfa."

Raphael gaped while the Emperor's chief geneticist pushed up Uriel's sleeve and plunged the needle into his arm. Beside him, the Emperor gave Raphael his orders, but all he could hear was a silent, overwhelming sense of grief from Jophiel. Raphael clutched his chest, unable to bear it even though he couldn't understand her fear.

"What's going on here?" Raphael choked out.

"Just a sedative," Dephar said as blandly as though he'd just vaccinated a pet.
"So they don't panic."

"Panic?" Raphael turned to Jophiel, who pressed her face into Uriel's neck as though she feared she might never see him again. Her wings shuddered with silent tears. Uriel yowled at the indignity of having just been jabbed with a needle and peered over his mother's shoulder with accusatory jade eyes, his small red wings pounding against her even though he was still too little to fly.

"Your little friends should be here any second," the Emperor said. "Ah! There they are!"

Raphael whirled to where two living 'needle' ships appeared. Needles were long, slender biomechanical creatures that could 'jump' from one end of the galaxy to the other in a matter of seconds. They were the remnant of some vast civilization which had risen and fallen in a distant galaxy, leaving the creatures, who gathered in flocks similar to carrier pigeons, with no 'roost' to call home. Inside their abdomen was a large, natural marsupium pouch which could carry small amounts of cargo, messages, or, if one wasn't too large or claustrophobic, an Angelic.

The gorock yelped.

"Sit still there, ya pesky creature," Nanna Oophaga scolded the gorock as he tried to wriggle out of Master Yoritomo's grip, "or you'll make it worse on yourself. Don't you know who that is who's got ya there? That's the Emperor's Cherubim Master of Arms! You're lucky he doesn't use his sword to dock your tail!"

Master Yoritomo let the creature go. The gorock immediately ran and hid behind the Emperor's throne. Raphael watched, dazed, at the specter of the Emperor's throne room turned into a circus.

"Shouldn't you hold onto him?" Nanna Oophaga asked Dephar.

Dephar neatly arranged his two syringes back onto his tray and leaned wearily against his cane. His dragon-like snout curved up in a bit of a vindictive smile.

"Sixty seconds," Dephar said. "Sixty seconds is all it takes and then Gi will be happily sleeping on the carpet."

Raphael glanced over at Uriel. His big green eyes had grown heavy beneath his auburn lashes, only the occasional hiccough causing his tiny red wings to flutter.

"Are you coming with us, Jophie?" Raphael dared ask.

Jophiel's eyes were filled with tears.

"
Supreme
Commander-General Abaddon gave me a direct order," Jophiel's voice warbled. "Place each of my twelve offspring under the direct command of their sires because he cannot guarantee their safety if I chose to keep them with me."

"But ... the Emperor..."

The hand which touched Raphael's wing
looked
like any other hand, but the tingle of electricity was anything
but
mortal.

"Needs you to complete your mission," the Emperor said. "Something you won't be able to do if you're worried sick about your son."

"She can come with me," Raphael insisted. "Abaddon has no idea where we search for Earth's coordinates. I can protect them both!"

The Emperor had a wistful, apologetic expression.

"I cannot spare her," the Emperor shook his head. "Jophiel is," he glanced up at the ceiling, "unique."

Raphael swallowed, his heart breaking along with Jophiel's as he realized she'd known this all along. Hybrids weren't
supposed
to become attached to their offspring, who were only begotten to further the glory of the Emperor's kingdom, but General Abaddon, Parliament's successor to Jophiel, had changed all that, ending with his rebellion hundreds of years of the Emperor's
Be Fruitful and Multiply
policies.

Nanna Oophaga bustled forward. Her broad, soft-soled shoes flap-flap-flapped across the marble as she lined the marsupium of Jophiel's personal 'needle' with Uriel's favorite blankie.

"Come, Sir," Nanna Oophaga gestured. "I'll be there on the other side to make sure he's well taken care of until you can rejoin us."

Jophiel lay the now-sleepy infant down into the marsupium and wrapped him in his blanket.

"He's so little," Jophiel tenderly strapped on his air mask. "How will he thrive without me?"

"You know I'll take good care of him," Raphael promised.

Master Yoritomo helped Nanna Oophaga ram her dowdy frame into the second needle, the one which had logged so many hours carrying Raphael to visit Jophiel and his son. Now, it seemed, the flow of visitation would have to flow in the opposite direction. Nanna Oophaga gave a frightened carroak as the marsupium closed its pouch around her, but thankfully, as a naturally evolved creature, she was far smaller than Raphael and fit comfortably inside the needle, packages and all.

"Come right back for me." Raphael rubbed his needle's nose ... if it
was
a nose. Nobody knew for certain.

Jophiel sobbed as her own needle closed its marsupium around their son. The Emperor moved forward and placed his hand upon the needle's forehead.

"Ah, little friend," the Emperor said. "What a useful Alliance citizen you and your friends have turned out to be. If only I had
more
of your species. Then my Angelics wouldn't need to be spread out all over the galaxy, so far from their families." He rubbed the needle's nose affectionately. "Take good care of little Uriel?"