The Price of Light

conclusion

by Beverly Forehand

Table of Contents
Part 2 appears
in this issue.

Magdala has programmed the remote to drive the Siege-Tank at full speed once the sanctum doors are open and she’s set the doors to open in ten minutes. Cordelia, Honoria and I all climb to the gallery above the sanctum and position slug-throwers. We have a case of personnel grenades divided amongst us. And Magdala has rigged a limited force field around us that can be turned on when we no longer need to shoot.

I’ve kept the box with me. I have to make sure Honoria doesn’t destroy it. I can tell she’s wondering if Magdala and Junia are taking it up the stairs. Magdala will seal the doors behind her as they progress to the tower. There are seven of them. It would take weeks to breach them all. The only other way to the tower is the small hatch that I used to climb to my parapet. It’s much too small for anyone in power armor. Probably no one bigger than a woman or a child could use that hatch.

Red is already waiting in the access hatch that runs under the floor of the sanctum and leads to the outside. It’s a tight fit even without her armor and she is probably the only one of us small enough to crawl through it. These last six months as a Fallen have whittled her already thin frame down to muscle and sinew. She will only have one chance to creep outside and secure a couple of radios. I hope our diversion is enough.

Cordelia spent the better part of this morning pinpointing a fallen communications team. They were warriors faithful to the City of Angels who fell in the first wave of fighting — not that Red would hesitate even if they had been traitors. Still, it seems fitting that they will have a part in the redemption of this city and of this Holy Place even in death. That is all any of us can hope for — to be useful and to serve the Mother.

I stand on the edge of the balcony balancing the slug-thrower against the railing with Honoria to my right and Cordelia to my left, waiting for the sanctum door to raise. The hammering on the door has been silent for a couple of hours now as if even those creatures waiting outside know something is about to happen. The scratching underneath the chapel floor has stopped too. They’re down there now. I can’t hear them, but I know they are there advancing slowly through the centuries of rot.

I can see the tiny lights along the top of the door come on. They blink experimentally for a moment and then, the door starts to lift. The Siege-Tank revs up its engine and the treads grind impatiently against the stone floor. Green gray smoke belches from launchers as the smoke grenades are released. Then, with a screech, the door shoots upward and the Siege-Tank lurches forward immediately crushing all those standing in its way. I can see armored bodies lurch out of its path and then it’s lost from sight.

I adjust the sight that Magdala’s attached to my slug-thrower. I hear screaming and see a trail of flame puff from the outer room. The Siege-Tank has released the chemical stream onto the crowd. I hear more wails and then the personnel and concussion grenades trapped above the door start to drop. I see one Demon-Blessed, huge and misformed, stagger through the smoke and then fall, blood spurting from his neck. We fire into the milling mass below us. Cordelia stops and lobs two concussion grenades. Another Demon-Blessed falls. They seem confused as to whether they should follow the Siege-Tank or fire upward at the three of us. I feel a shudder go through the marble of the guardrail. The Siege-Tank must’ve exploded. The enemy are falling back. The sanctum door falls shut with a clang and we open fire on those trapped in the sanctum.

We continue firing down into the gallery until all movement has stopped. When the smoke clears, we return to the sanctum and administer the Goddess’ Divine Retribution to the enemy wounded. Magdala has already come down from the parapet and is prying the access hatch off. I can see Red’s fingers looped around the grid work as she anxiously awaits Magdala’s completion of the job.

When Magdala and Junia lift the hatch aside, Red jumps out. “Help me lift these,” she says, reaching back into the chute to pull out a radio. “I brought three back,” she says, “They’re all a little beaten up. And I wasn’t sure what you needed.”

Magdala inspects each radio as it is lifted from the chute. “These will do,” she says, “I can cobble together something working from their components.” She motions for Junia and Red to help her carry them.

Red looks back at the sanctum door, now covered with smoke soot and blood. “Should we try to reinforce that?” she asks.

Magdala looks back, “No time,” she states.

Cordelia is leaning against the now shell-riddled table, rifling through her medic’s pack.

“Cordelia?” I ask. She grimaces and administers a hypo-needle to the chain mail and leather joints at the inner elbow on her right arm. “The bleeding’s stopped,” she says. She reels a little as the antibiotics kick in.

“Can you shoot?” I asked.

She nods, “Yes, it’s in the shoulder. I’ll balance the slug-thrower on my hip, but...” she indicates her left leg. There’s a blackened hole the size of a large coin still smoking slightly, “I doubt if I can keep up with you now.”

I nod. “That’s all right,” I say, “You stay here with Magdala and Junia.” I hand her the box. “They’ll come for this if they get past us in the crypts. Magdala is rigging a limited force field, but it won’t hold for long. Don’t let it fall into unfriendly hands.”

Cordelia looks at me strangely and then takes the box in her hand. “It’s warm,” she says, “It wasn’t before, was it?” She looks at it again and then places it in her satchel. “Grace of the Mother,” she says.

“Grace of the Mother,” I reply.

Magdala, Junia, and Red return from the tower. “Everything is in place,” the technician says. “We have the slug-thrower and the radios and I’ve rigged the stairwell to implode. After it’s down, no one’s coming up or down from there unless they use the hatch.” She hands me the force field generator and I pass it on to Cordelia.

Magdala frowns, but then notices the hole in Cordelia’s leg. Directing her remarks to the Healer she says, “Keep it confined to a small defensible area. It will only shield 100 feet of so around you.” Cordelia nods. “I should have the radio operational in ten minutes. We’ll put the call through and Goddess willing this will be over in an hour,” Magdala says.

Junia standing by her side looks teary-eyed, but resolute. She and Magdala turn and make their way to the corridor that leads to the tower, picking across the room’s littered dead. At the end of the room, Magdala stops and turns, “Lady Aemilla,” she calls, “Die well.” I nod and reply, “Goddess grant you grace.” Magdala and Junia disappear from sight.

We leave Cordelia with the box, the maul, and the force field, and started for the crypts. Honoria has picked up a long-handled flail from one of the fallen Sisters, and Red and I had our battle-kurkas, as well as phase-pistols. I see that Red has scavenged a two-handed sword as well. I have Lady Ephraim’s phase-bow. Each of us has one concussion grenade, and Honoria has the remote for the creepers. They stand in a neat little line by the heavy sigiled door leading to the Honored Dead. The twitchy creeper is still listing to its right, but at least it isn’t running into anything.

“Send the first two in ahead of us,” I say, “we’ll keep the two with grenades close to us and send them ahead once we’ve spotted our targets.”

Honoria enters the long code into the door and it opens reluctantly with a hiss of air. The first two creepers lurch into the darkness directed by Honoria. After they disappear, Honoria sends the other two inside and then Red, Honoria, and I step into the darkness. I adjust the night vision on my helm and look around. I can see the two immediate creepers hunched in the darkness near the wall a few feet in front of us. The air is heavy with dust and I am glad to have an air-filter built into my helmet. I can see the eye slits of Red and Honoria’s helms glowing slightly in the dark as well. I nod my head and we advance, weapons drawn.

Honoria studies the monitor on her handset that broadcasts the images from the first two creepers. After a few minutes, she holds up her hand. On the monitor I can see five green and gold glowing eyes advancing slowing through the gloom. The video-creepers are running lightless with only their slight hum to give them away. Cordelia maneuvers them underneath one of the crypts and waits until the enemy passes. She swings the creepers behind them and after a few moments the spiders continue to follow.

We move forward again. Our own little video-creepers a few paces ahead. Every footfall echoes too loudly. “There’s a fork in the crypt a few corridors ahead of them,” Honoria types onto the monitor screen, “If we take this corridor, we can come out behind them.” She pulls up the schematic of the crypt on the monitor screen and gestures to the junction. I nod. She adjusts the two forward video-creepers to continue trailing the enemy at a discreet distance and then we turn left into another dark corridor.

This is the hall of Honored Saints. Sisters, City Archons, and Goddess-Blessed who had lived spotless lives lay here moldering away throughout eternity. Their shrouded bones lying against the walls hopefully muffle our footfalls. Vigilant to the Goddess and the City even in death, I know that they would want to help us destroy these monsters and heretics walking unimpeded among their Holy Fellows if they could.

We swing out into the main corridor and my helm’s filters picked up a change in the air. Fresh air is coming down the main corridor, presumably from the tunnel the Demons have dug. I lift my pistol and continue down the corridor, Red and Honoria behind me. I can barely make out the two creepers crouched against the wall ahead.

“Stop,” I hear Honoria say softly. We all come to a halt. She nods at the monitor. A pair of eyes, only one of which looks even remotely human, is looking directly into one of the creeper’s cameras.

Honoria speeds our two video-creepers ahead and we duck around the next corner, each of us taking out her own concussion grenade. When Honoria can see the Demon-Blessed on creepers’ cameras, she orders the mechanical spiders to drop their concussion grenades. She triggers the two other creepers to explode simultaneously and we run around the corner and fling our grenades, ducking back into cover to avoid the blast.

Honoria throws the monitor on the floor, its screen flashing static. We advance into the hallway in a covering formation, pistols lifted. Red throws a couple of mini-grenades ahead of us. Silence. The five Demon-Blessed lay twitching on the floor. Their armor rendered useless torn to shreds by the concussion grenades. I lift my battle-kurka and lop off the head of the nearest heretic. Behind me, I can hear the whir of Honoria’s flail as she twirls it above her head and delivers a blow to another of the enemy.

After all the heretics are dispatched, we move down the corridor toward the airflow. Bits of the ruined spiders crush under our feet. They had served the Goddess well.

I can see the light coming in from the open shaft ahead and the noises of battle drift through muffled and obscure. Honoria pulls out two concussion grenades and balances them precariously in her left hand ready to throw. Red grips the battle-kurka two handed and advances one foot before the other like a cat. I pull out the phase-bow, the blessed weapon of the Goddess, and the battle-kurka, now as familiar as my own hand. With the adrenaline of battle and fear running through my veins, the two-handed battle-kurka feels strangely light and it’s no problem to wield it one-handed.

Honoria runs forward and throws the two grenades and at the sound of their explosion, we all leap out of the tunnels. Everything is a blur of armor and smoke as I hurl out of the opening, leaping over the heads of our crouching enemies. Honoria is already on her feet, firing her pistol, and attempting to pull out her flail. I fire the phase-bow at the nearest enemy and watch his chest armor explode in a shower of light. He falls backward into the hole.

Above us and to the right, I can hear the staccato tatting of the slug-thrower and the roaring of men and Demons. Red is swinging the battle-kurka and singing. Everything seems to be moving so slowly. A giant in blood-drenched armor charges me, but I duck and roll swinging the battle-kurka behind me and slashing into his torso.

Their leader is before me — the colossus I’ve seen from the tower many times: Helmess. He laughs and says, “Well done little sister,” as he pulls his halberd from its sheath.

I leap over him with a flip I’ve seen a Mantos Claig-Warrior execute with perfection. As I flip over his head, I swing the battle-kurka and feel the Goddess-Blessed weapon bite deeply into his Demonic flesh. I land on my feet with much less grace than the Mantos and hold the battle-kurka two handed.

The giant closes on me, slowed only slightly by his now bleeding wounds. I parry his blow and kick him in the chest, using the force the propel me away. He staggers a little then rushes onward, opening his mouth to reveal fangs and two mewling snakes’ heads.

He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever fought before. I swing the battle-kurka over my head and down at his chest and shoulders. One of the whip-like snakes heads strikes at me, too close for my comfort, and is lopped off. It twists wildly, spraying acid across my helm. I feel the drops ooze through the metal. But they don’t reach my skin.

From the corner of my eye I see a small silver armored figure hurtling from the tower. Junia falls like a star to the ground. The slug-thrower is silent. Honoria is screaming and I hear her rapid-firing with her phase-pistol. Red’s voice rings out loud and clear, singing as she kills. I join her song: “O Goddess, give us Grace in this hour. We are your sword. Please be our shield.”

The giant charges again and I step to the side and swing backwards as he rushes passed me. His shoulder is severed and a mass of green pus spews from the wound. My vision blurs and all goes white and milky. I turn reflexively and pretend to fall. When I can feel his shadow, I spring upward, leading with my battle-kurka held two-handed. I feel it connect with a grind and rip it free from his body.

I turn to meet the smoky figure charging me from behind and block with the full force of the battle-kurka. I hear the deadly stir of air as a weapon falls and lean to the right, away from the blow. Battle-kurka raised, I step forward and swing, taking off my enemy’s head. Red has stopped singing. “Great Lady be my strength in darkness or light,” I sing, moving on to the next clouded form.

The ground trembles and I smile. This is the beginning. Either the aerial bombardment has begun and Magdala has succeeded or the Mantos have come for their artifact. It was easy enough to activate — just the turn of a few modules and the pressing of a few runes. I’ve seen it done often enough before when I fought with the Mantos. Perhaps both are happening at once. It doesn’t matter. Fire and the Goddess’ Grace will save this planet one way or the other, and these Demons will all be destroyed.

In the past, my decisions had been made to save myself or to save my Sisters. I was a Daughter of Artemis with the sacred trust of command. I followed my heart and the Lady’s will and that sometimes conflicted with the Rules of the Order and the Law of the City. My Faith was never touched, not even when they condemned me. But as Fallen I sometimes doubted my resolve. Maybe I had been wrong, too willful. Had I fallen from the Order alone or from the Goddess herself?

Faith is the only Light and Shield of Mankind. I’ve always known that was true, even if I myself had fallen from that Faith. But as I swing my battle-kurka and feel it connect with the flesh of another enemy I know something more. There is forgiveness — forgiveness from my Order, forgiveness for my sins, forgiveness from myself. I feel the Lady’s grace fall on me and all turns to brightness. I continue my song in praise of the Goddess, dispatching my enemies with my battle-kurka, weapon of a fallen Sister. The ground trembles again and there is a low roar surrounding us. I close my eyes and continue my song. When the light comes, I step into it.