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

“No.” He shook his head. “No, it’s just that the thought of Lichtner gives me a stomach ache, that’s all. He was instrumental in a battle in the Akiba system a few months ago. A battle Baruch won—except in the ways that count.”

“What does that mean?”

Grimly amused with himself, he responded, “I haven’t the slightest idea. In the game of war, winning should be everything, shouldn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Miss Eloel, why do you care about Lichtner?”

“He’s the current military governor of Tikkun.”

He sucked in a breath as though she’d splashed icy water in his face. If true, why would she tell him such a critical bit of intelligence? “How do you know?”

“I just do.” She crumpled the crystal sheet again.

He looked at it, wondering if she had some sensitive data written there and if he ought to tackle her to get it. “If you’re worried about Lichtner, don’t be. He’s an idiot.”

“Is he?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s dangerous, isn’t he?”

“If some imbecile has given him power, he’ll undoubtedly abuse it, but he’s not creative if that’s what you mean.”

She wandered sternly around his cabin, hair shining like strands of the darkest, rarest silks in the galaxy. Softly, as if speaking to herself, she repeated, “He’s not creative….”

“Why does it matter?”

She brusquely waved a hand to silence him while she thought and he lifted both brows. The only other woman he knew who made him feel like a subordinate was Halloway.

“Excuse me? Is there something else I can do for you, Miss Eloel?”

“Yes, Captain, would you … would you help me with a physics problem?”

He almost laughed, but her serious expression kept him from doing it. “It’s not a calculation you’re planning on using to blow up me or the Magistrates, is it?”

“No.”

“Is that what you have in your hand?”

She gazed down at the crumpled sheet and nodded apologetically. “Yes. I hope you can still read it.”

“Let me see.” He extended a hand.

Quickly, she strode forward, placing it in his palm. He unfolded it and smoothed away the wrinkles. As he glanced at the equations, his brows lowered. “Miss Eloel—”

“Please, call me Rachel.”

“Why don’t you sit down, Rachel. This might take a while. These are rather complicated.”

Without taking her eyes from his, she reached back and dragged a chair around next to him, waiting breathlessly.

He smiled, intrigued. Did she know that despite the pistol on her hip, he could easily have her pinned to the floor to use as a hostage? Why would she give him such a chance? But if he attacked her, Baruch would gas level seven and the next thing Cole knew he’d have a chain around his throat. Rachel undoubtedly was aware of that. Disgruntled, he turned his attention to the equations. For a full two minutes, he went over them in detail, growing more and more fascinated. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and looked at her admiringly.

“You don’t need any help from me. This looks perfect. My only questions are regarding your statistics for mass and charge. Are you sure they’re correct?”

She looked confused, wetting her lips nervously. “I think so. Why?”

He braced his elbows on the table. She had a curious effect on him. A handsome woman, those stunning eyes held him riveted. She looked at him as though he knew more than God Himself—and damned well better give her the answers she needed or she’d kill him, just because. He bent over the crystal sheet, motioning to her. “Come here, let me show you what I mean.”

She obliged, leaning so close her long hair draped over his arm and he could smell the fragrance of some strange flower or place. A whisper of rich soil and sunshine clung to the strands.

“You see,” he said, pointing to the questionable figures, “you’re correct here and here regarding the event horizons. Obviously charged black holes have two, one reflecting the mass, the other the charge. But here’s where I’m a little confused. If you keep adding to the charge, as this series of five equations shows, the inner event horizon will grow while the outer shrinks. You see what I mean?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, the maximum possible charge occurs when the inner and outer event horizons merge. Correct?”

She nodded, but looked gravely uncertain. “Go ahead.”

Her forehead lined in concentration, but he had the feeling she hadn’t the vaguest idea what he was talking about. “What I’m trying to say is that if you execute this particular sequence, I’m afraid you’ll wind up with a naked singularity.”

Her face paled to a pasty clay color. “What is that?”

He tilted his head curiously. “Did you work out these equations, Rachel?”

“Answer my question.”

He sat back in his chair. “Let’s begin with basics. A singularity, a black hole, is a place where gravity is so powerful a ‘hole’ has been torn in space-time. Around the chasm is a horizon in the geometry of space. We call it an event horizon. When the horizon, or horizons, in the case of charged or rotating black holes, disappears, you have a naked singularity.” He put his hands on the table, palms open. “You didn’t work out these equations, did you?”

She gazed at him through glittering black eyes. “A friend did. He said I’d need them someday.”

Her voice trailed off as she stared over his shoulder. That prophetic look made Tahn’s breathing go shallow.

“Why did your friend say you’d need these?”

“Because when I reach the middle of the prison, the foundations of Chaos, I have to throw one of the sapphires. …”

She turned, looking at him with such aching confusion, he had the insane urge to reach out and comfort her. Instead, he shoved his chair back and got to his feet. She eyed him warily.

“It’s all right. I’m in no position to hurt you. I’m a prisoner here, you see.” He smiled wryly, but it faded when her face darkened.

“We’re all prisoners here, Captain. I just want to go home, but I haven’t got a home to go to.”

They held each other’s gaze, sharing an understanding deeper than words. Guilt tortured him. She nervously played with the crystal sheet for a few seconds, shoving it around the table, and he felt her tension building.

“Is there something else you want to ask me, Rachel?”

Her gaze lifted, impaling him with its buried desperation. “Captain, you’ve been everywhere, places I’ve only dreamed of. Do you think happiness or suffering is more prevalent in the universe? Does it depend on where you are? In some parts of the galaxy is happiness on the increase?”

Almost mesmerized by her eyes, he responded softly. “I don’t think so. Suffering seems to be on the high side everywhere I’ve been in the past decade.”

“Oh….”

“Why did you ask?”

She lurched unsteadily to her feet, tears glistening like diamonds on her lashes. “Thank you for helping me, Captain.”

“Any time. Unfortunately, I’m nearly always available.” He tried to smile, but his face fell into serious lines. “Come again.”

She retrieved her crystal sheet from the table before backing away toward the door. “I will. Thank you.”

She palmed the exit patch and left. A trail of fluttering ebony waves was the last glimpse he had of her.

Yosef sat on the floor in Mikael’s room, playing checkers with his grandnephew. Two lamps glowed, one over the table where Ari sat reading computer printouts and another focused on the game board. In the soft light, the red and black playing pieces gleamed brightly.

Yosef glanced at Mikael. He had his tongue sticking outside of his mouth as he concentrated on where to move next. A deep and abiding love filled Yosef. What a handsome boy he was. He resembled Zadok so much when his brother had been that age that it made Yosef’s heart ache with longing. But… Mikael seemed much older than seven. Twelve, maybe. Certainly, the death of his family and the destruction of his planet had played a role in such early mental development. Zadok had lost his mother when a child, too, though his planet hadn’t been devastated like Mikael’s, but Zadok had never seemed so old.

Mikael smiled suddenly and jumped two of Yosef’s pieces. “Ha! I got you, Uncle Yosef.”

“Oh, that was a good move, Mikael.”

“Sybil taught me that. She’s good at checkers.”

Ari glanced up from his book. Dressed in a tan robe, he had one long leg stretched out over another chair. His gray mop of hair hung about his ears like dead weeds. “She’s good at lots of things. She nearly choked me to death in a wrestling match yesterday.

“She beats me up all the time, too. It’s because she squirms so good when you get her arms pinned.”

“And she kicks like a pagan mule.”

Mikael laughed brightly, eyes shining. “Yeah, I got her down on her back once and she tried to kick my stomach out.”

Ari chuckled, then his gray brows drew together malevolently and he pounded a fist against the printout laying scattered over the table. “Maybe that’s the answer. We ought to hire Sybil to go find this Dannon character, eh? He could use having his stomach kicked out.”

Yosef leaned back, bracing himself on his elbows. “What’s that printout telling you? Anything important? Could he still be alive?”

“I don’t know yet. Those search teams looked everywhere. They even checked and rechecked areas to make sure he hadn’t crept like silent slime back into already secured areas.”

“Well….” Yosef sighed and looked back at the checkerboard. Mikael had one bare toe resting on the corner. “If he were alive, they’d have surely found him.”

“Bah!” Ari groused, withered face shriveling with disdain. “You and me might have found him, but those amateur searchers Jeremiel had out? They couldn’t find their own arses with both hands.”

Yosef sat bolt upright as Ari’s face suddenly lit with challenge.
“Get
that thought out of your demented mind. No! You’re always getting me into trouble. This time I refuse—”

“Don’t be such a coward,” Ari said in a silken tone, smiling broadly. He adjusted the holster on his hip so that his pistol gleamed silver in the light. “I’ll protect you.”

“You?” Yosef cried incredulously. “When are you going to outgrow these delusions of godhood?”

“What’s the matter with you? Jeremiel needs us and all you can think about is my delusions? When did you get so selfish?”

Yosef blinked. He cast around for something equally spurious to say, but couldn’t think of anything. “I’m not going.”

Ari slouched back in his chair. “You know, I bet Jeremiel would even give us extra pistols to carry while we hunt. What do you think, Mikael? Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?”

Yosef started to explode with something nasty, but he noticed how seriously Mikael had taken the question. The boy contemplatively blinked at Ari, as though he felt the query like the weight of all Gamant civilization on his tiny stomach. His face pinched.

“I guess so. Sybil told me about how her mom had been helping the search teams on level four, before Mister Baruch canceled them. If Dannon is still alive, we need to find him before he hurts our people again.” Anxiously, Mikael got to his knees, eyes glowing darkly. “And, and, maybe when you go to see Mister Baruch, you could take me. I need to tell him about what Grandfather …”

He swallowed suddenly, glancing from Yosef to Ari, a look of utter terror on his young face. Yosef reached over to pat Mikael’s tiny hand in reassurance.

“It’s all right, Mikael. Zadok was my brother. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you telling Ari and me something he told you in confidence.”

In a choking voice, Mikael said, “He said to tell you hello, Uncle Yosef. That he loves you.”

Yosef sat back. “Who?”

“Grandfather. He’s been talking to me a lot lately.”

Yosef could hear Ari drop a hand against the scattered printout; it swished softly. He turned to meet his friend’s anxious gaze. A small glint of horror sparked in Ari’s gray eyes. Doctor Severns had warned them Mikael still experienced constant nightmares and might have minor delusions from the shock he’d experienced on Kayan, but they hadn’t seen any until today.

“Mikael,” Yosef said lovingly, “your grandfather’s dead.”

“Oh, yes, sir, I know. But he talks to me anyway. Epagael lets him. The archangel Michael was with him last time. He talked to me for a while, too.”

“I see,” Yosef whispered forlornly. The boy must have more psychological scars than seemed apparent. The thought pricked his bones like a frigid gale.

“Grandfather said you’d help me lead the revolt if I asked, Uncle Yosef.”

“Revolt?” Smiling awkwardly, he assured, “Yes, of course, I will.”

“Thanks. Sybil and I might need help when the war starts. Though, I don’t know, Metatron said he’d help us, too. And he’s pretty powerful. He can walk through walls and things.”

“Who’s Metatron?”

From behind him Ari chastised, “You witless bozon. Metatron is the Prince of the Divine Presence. He took Ezra to heaven to talk to God millennia ago.”

Mikael nodded heartily, smiling. “Yeah. That’s him. He’s golden and beautiful.”