Chapter 17 When Divinity is a Cage
When Divinity is a Cage
When they pulled apart, Idan located a towel, wiping the droplets from Sheba’s skin before guiding her into the guest suite’s wardrobe.
Her adrenaline was on a dying ebb, leaving a hollow exhaustion, her limbs heavy like lead.
She sat on the bed, exhaling, staring into nothing as Idan found a set of courtesy clothes in the closet.
She stood motionless as Idan steered her feet into a Sable Rider jumpsuit of navy-black compression fabric interwoven with structural gold.
‘I can do the rest,’ she mumbled, her fingers fumbling with the zipper.
She secured it and stepped into a pair of lush, soft-soled shoes and flicked her eyes to Idan as he dressed.
The jumpsuit he wore clung to the rippling muscles of his chest, sleeves rolled up to emphasize the glowing geometry of his glyphs.
No matter the attire, the man remained devastating.
Unable to help herself, she reached for him, stroking his hair, and he leaned in, pulling her into a melding kiss.
When he tore his lips from hers, he eyed her with a somber arch of his brow.
‘So tell me about these Riders you call family. Why should I trust them?’
She huffed and shot him a smile.
‘For one, my sister is married to their leader, Kainan, and I can vouch for him being an amazing husband and great father to their kids. The Riders are meta-warriors who came from planet Earth. The got experimented on by a fokkin’ evil alien race, the Crats.
They escaped bondage and traveled to Eden II, where they rebuilt themselves into the force they are today.
To the public, they’re super-wealthy industrialists who manufacture fast ships and weapons throughout the galaxy.
Privately, however, they also serve as unofficial guardians of this region, rescuing hundreds of indentured workers, re-homing thousands of refugees, and stopping countless raider vessels across the System.
Kainan and Riv patrol the region to protect Eden II’s traders from pirates here and along its System’s fringe, on the borders close to Alloria.
Their security team, run by Xion, targets crime and murders in the poverty-stricken catacombs beneath Eden City.
Kage works with a youth off-the-streets program and runs one of Eden II’s best restaurants. ’
Idan jerked his chin, his eyes gleaming with a touch of respect.
‘Fascinating,’ he murmured.
Sheba nodded. ‘Tis. Zane runs a charity organization that focuses on improving the lives of the vulnerable. Including funding hospitals, clinics, and emergency evacuation flotillas and mercy ships across the sector under Ki’Remi and Issa’s auspices.
Their Group vision is simple: helping those in need from a position of strength. ’
‘They sound half decent.’
‘Oh, they’re fokkin’ rogues when they want to be, trust me. They’re also the most menacing wraith-like warriors you’ll meet, other than your badass Sacran self, of course.’
Idan shot her a sloppy grin, kissed her temple, and glided a hand over her back.
‘You haven’t seen anything yet. Ready?’ he asked.
She nodded, her hand finding his.
They ascended to the stateroom on the upper deck, where the scent of charred meat and roasted vegetables called to them.
Sheba’s tummy rumbled, and Idan’s mouth quirked.
‘Always ravenous woman.’
‘Only for you,’ she whispered back as they walked into the galley.
They found Ki’Remi and Issa hovering over a side table, making final adjustments to a spread of delicious food on heavy ceramic platters.
Both whirled around as the couple entered.
‘You’re here! We wondered if you were too tired to eat, so I’m glad you came up. Sit,’ Issa commanded, gesturing at the carved timber chairs. ‘Fill up first. We talk shop once your blood sugar stops bottoming out.’
She slid a packed plate toward Sheba.
The meal consisted of a thick-cut seared rib-eye steak, a pile of bitter greens tossed in citrus oil, and a loaf of warm sourdough bread.
Also on offer was a bowl of roasted yams in spiced coconut milk. The surface of the Sacran delicacy shimmered with a fine mist of edible gold dust.
Sheba sliced into the steak, the juices mingling with the sweet, earthy cream of the purple and white tubers.
She let out a moan. ‘So good.’
By her side, Idan ate in silence, his eyes flicking across the stateroom.
He tracked his gaze over the ship’s interior and at the void beyond the viewport.
Yet Sheba sensed his mind churning. He was likely five steps ahead, lost in his sudden change of circumstances, while dissecting the rot of Sulfiqar’s demands.
Used to his quietude, she gave him his space and dove into conversation with her friends.
They spoke of the Riders, the politics of Selene, and her growing family on Eden II.
The heart-to-heart eventually drifted to the evacuation of her colleagues from Lattaya Medical Centre.
‘The team traveled safely to Dunia,’ Ki’Remi reassured her. ‘Those who needed it are receiving treatment, and the rest are home with their kin. However, you should know, the families of Brad and Imani held their funerals five days ago.’
Sheba’s jaw tightened.
She gripped the edge of the table to stave off the sudden swell of sorrow, her eyes burning.
Beside her, Idan’s hand covered hers, his thumb tracing a slow, grounding circle over her knuckles.
‘I don’t know why I keep falling apart,’ she muttered. ‘It’s been weeks.’
Issa reached across the steel surface, touching her other hand while sending a gentle Sacran psionic tap, a pulse of cooling energy that settled Sheba’s frantic heart.
‘It’s normal, Sheba. Your grief is to be expected,’ Ki’Remi murmured.
‘Our encounter with Ty and Sulfiqar probably didn’t help,’ Idan rasped. ‘It might have ripped open old wounds.’
Sheba whispered, nodded, thinking of her parents and Idan’s mother, and their senseless deaths.
‘Then let time work, honey,’ Issa insisted. ‘Don’t rush the healing. Cry, weep, feel what you need to until the storm passes on its own.’
Sheba gave Issa a wry smile as she wiped the corner of her eyes with the napkin Idan handed her.
‘Sante, all of you, for letting me be messy.’
‘Anytime,’ Ki’Remi grinned. ‘But then again, you were always messy. I remember how one time you slid down a flight of stairs with a patient’s food tray in front of me a few years ago.’
‘But only half the soup in a bowl spilled because my ass bumped the rim of the stairwell,’ Sheba laughed.
They shifted to reminiscing and laughing about the good old days, which lifted her spirits and made her momentary troubles seem far away.
They also moved on to a dessert of tart blackberries poached in hibiscus syrup, paired with glasses of viscous tawny port.
As Ki’Remi poured Sheba a second glass, a shimmer of light coalesced at the table’s edge.
A localized node of the Rider’s proprietary omniscient demi-urge intelligence, Mirage, flickered into existence.
The stunning creature, ebony-skinned and diamond-eyed, wore a heavy emerald velvet smoking gown, a glowing synth-cigar clamped between two elegant fingers.
‘Mirage,’ Sheba murmured. ‘Good to see you. This is Idan. He’s with me.’
‘Welcome, Commander. How are you, beautiful?’ the Synth AI asked in her characteristic dulcet tones.
‘Getting there,’ Sheba answered with a half smile.
Mirage turned her gaze to the Sacran warrior-god. ‘Apologies, Commander, but the Sable Group’s protocol dictates I conduct a security sweep on you before you arrive on Eden II.’
Idan shrugged, his eyes gleaming with a challenge.
Mirage’s translucent eyes performed a sub-dermal scan, the air humming with the sheer volume of data being processed.
Her synth-cigar flared a bright, electric blue as she took a pull, assessing him.
‘You’re no threat to anyone in this room,’ Mirage announced moments later, with a wink. ‘But let’s be clear. You’re a weapon, a localized extinction event waiting to happen, a god-tier hazard with unimaginable potency.’
As Ki’Remi coughed into his hand and Issa suppressed a smile, Idan huffed.
‘You’ve no freakin’ idea what you’re letting onto Eden II,’ Idan rasped.
Mirage arched a sculpted brow at him. ‘If you’re anything like Issa and Molan, I think we have some clue. As long as you’re on our side, you’re welcome, Sacran paladin.’
‘What does that mean?’ Sheba asked.
Mirage took a drag of her cigar and nodded at Idan. ‘He’s cleared, free to wander at will, but don’t make me regret it. I’m heading back to the Eden II, but I’m on standby if you decide to flame the galaxy on a god whim.’
As the two couples laughed, Mirage waggled her fingers in a wave, and with a flick of her wrist, she glimmered away.
‘I forgot what an infuriating, smart-mouthed demos she is,’ Sheba quipped. ‘She freakin’ annoys me sometimes, yet I miss her when she’s gone.’
The group’s chuckles echoed through the stateroom as they finished the last of the blackberries.
‘So how the hell do you two know each other?’ Sheba asked, her gaze drifting between Issa and Idan, tilting her glass from one to the other, as the port coated her tongue in a subtle sweetness.
Issa waited for Idan to speak, but he inclined his chin, yielding the floor.
‘We met in Sacra,’ Issa began. ‘In Sivania, which lies far above the Sarvāstivāda, and within the uppermost spires of the Seventh Heaven. A fortress city where the gods are so ancient their names have outlived the languages that birthed them. We both served Sulfiqar, the God-Emperor. For millennia, I walked among his Saatifa, his elite sentinels, as a medic using my Sukkanaght healing during wars and skirmishes. I crossed Idan’s path on a dozen battle fronts.
He was also in court often, reporting to the Deity-King on his mercenary missions as leader of the Nihil-Stalkers, the Sacran Forward Guard Unit. ’
‘The pride of the Caliostheles bloodline,’ Idan murmured with a slight scoff. ‘A squad bound to the throne by blood-debt. Raised from birth to serve the monarchy.’
‘Really?’ Sheba asked, intrigued.