Beyond Redemption by Michael R. Fletcher

Author:Michael R. Fletcher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-05-08T04:00:00+00:00

Acceptance, unmoved, watched Konig’s performance. The Theocrat’s beliefs and delusions meant less and less to the Doppel. He saw through Konig’s empty words to the truth: the Theocrat sought to disguise his sadness at having slain his only friend. Konig was lost and, with Aufschlag dead, alone on this path.

Acceptance had been waiting for this moment.

For days he’d communicated as best he could, secretly and without words, with Konig’s reflections. They too saw Aufschlag’s death as the first step toward freedom. Acceptance didn’t delude himself that they worked strictly toward his ends. No doubt the reflections had plans of their own. This would be a temporary alliance at best. He would shatter the mirror the instant they ceased being useful.

Acceptance studied Konig, feeding off the man’s doubts like a leech feeds off blood. Next he must remove Morgen from the playing field. The god-child was the Theocrat’s escape plan from the ravages of unchecked delusion. Delusions that must escalate in power, stoked by doubt and the subtle prodding of Doppels and reflections. The Theocrat would become truly powerful and dangerously unstable. His delusions would tear apart his mind. I will shred everything he is, bathe in his despair, drink deep of his faltering thoughts. Acceptance imagined sipping from Konig’s hollowed skull and quashed the urge to grin.

Morgen had to die, and somewhere far beyond Konig’s reach.

“We cannot risk further contamination,” Acceptance said softly. “Morgen must be slain before Aufschlag’s agents turn him against us.” He placed a hand gently on Konig’s shoulder, pleased when Konig didn’t shrug it away. The man needed, and need was weakness. “The scientist sought to taint the boy toward his own ends.” Let Konig’s imagination do the rest.

Konig sagged under Acceptance’s hand. “You will slay Morgen,” he said to his assassins. “Bring about his Ascension.” Acceptance felt faint tremors through Konig’s shoulder. Would he cry? Please, gods, please. Just a small taste of despair. “Asena, take your Tiergeist to Neidrig.”

Acceptance saw Asena’s discomfort at the order and she noticed his attention. She glanced at the hand resting on Konig’s shoulder and her eyes narrowed.

It was time to do some serious housecleaning. Each person Konig turned to for support must be used and pushed away. Alienating Asena would be easier than killing her. Acceptance kept his face carefully blank. Anomie, lacking Asena’s lithe body and unconditional love, was less of a threat and could be dealt with later. He waited, listening. The moment would come when he could drop a subtle word in Konig’s ear and drive a wedge between Asena and the Theocrat.

“Anomie,” continued Konig. “Take your Schatten Mörder south, toward Unbrauchbar in Gottlos.”

Anomie bowed. “An unnatural storm brews there.”

Konig turned on the corpse. “Why has no one mentioned this to me? It could be linked with the kidnappers.” He noticed Acceptance’s comforting hand and angrily brushed it aside.

“The storm has grown closer for days,” said Anomie. “I assumed you knew.”

“Gods damn everything,” Konig snarled in frustration. “Go to the heart of the storm, discover its source.

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