“You’re right.” He spreads his arms in some kind of surrender. “I have no idea what you went through. I especially have no idea why it resulted in this change in you. The reason I wanted you to join the House was because you were the opposite of this. You were supposed to make things more humane around here. Jesus Christ, Rion! You used to value life above all else.”

  “Well, now I value strength above all else. It was my weakness that killed my family.”

  He stands from his slouch. “It was Whiteface who killed your family. You can’t keep blaming yourself for it.”

  “Bullshit!” I spit. “People like Whiteface are all around us, all the time. It’s the rest of us who let them do what they do. They take advantage of the weakness in all of us. You want to know what happened to me? Well, I want to know what happened to you! You used to be the strongest person I knew. Nothing got to you. I looked up to you, for god’s sake. Now you’ve turned into this whining, spineless mess. You can’t even do the job anymore. It’s pathetic. You went backward. You know that, right? You used to be the House’s Grim Reaper. Now you’ve turned into… into me! Or what I used to be anyway. I’ll never be that person again.”

  His cheeks darken, and he clenches his fists like he wants to punch me. I almost wish he would. Instead, he fights his urges and softens his voice, which grates at me all the more. “You’ve been through hell,” he says. “I won’t deny that. What Whiteface did to you was unthinkable, and you have every right to your rage. But you should be dealing with it off the job. Think of it as any other injury. You wouldn’t expect yourself to keep going without taking some time off to heal, would you?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him because right now, I absolutely would.

  He draws a deep breath and tries another angle. “Look, we all know what you’re going through. No one’s going to judge you for taking a little time off. Every one of us has had to do it in the past. We’ve all suffered losses—”

  “Not like this,” I say.

  He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. I get the impression this isn’t how he expected the conversation to go. But how else could it have gone?

  “Eden, my only friends were tortured and killed. My family was murdered before my eyes. I was given an impossible choice. It’s my fault because Whiteface wanted it to be my fault. He manipulated my own weakness and used it against me. I will not allow that to happen again. I’ve carved the weakness out. One person I love was left alive, and I’ll be damned if I let my indecision harm her the way it harmed everyone else. You say you understand, but I promise, you can’t even begin to.”

  He bows his head and mutters, “Yes, I can.”

  His reaction enrages me. My face feels hot, and a scream builds at the back of my throat. I want to hurt him. I want to tear him to pieces. I hate him. “You think you’ve suffered like I have? Bullshit! You never even knew our father. I held his hand while he took his last breath. Do you even remember your mother? Because mine was shot in the face not that long ago, and I’d give anything to forget it. You have no idea what it’s like to lose a family because you’ve never fucking had one. Got it? It’s laughable you even think we’re brothers. Real brothers have a shared experience. We share some genes—that’s all. Oh, don’t fucking tear up now, you spineless fuck. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  I storm out of my own room because I can’t be around him anymore. I can’t stand the look on his face. Every word I say to him stabs him deeper, and I don’t get why. This was what he wanted from me, wasn’t it? I’m stronger than he ever was. I won’t be cowed or beaten by sentimentality. I have one good reason to stay strong.

  Phoebe called me shortly after I got back from Paris. “I want to see you,” she said. But I told her no. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing that will keep her safe is distance from me. Mary Denau is alive and well. I have no doubt she’d gut Phoebe in a heartbeat, or maybe she’d get another Whiteface to do it. I refuse to take that chance.

  “We shouldn’t see each other while I work for the House of David,” I told her. “For some reason, their rival, Seditio, is killing everyone I ever loved.”

  Phoebe laughed, and I couldn’t help softening at the sound of it. At least, she seemed relatively unaffected. She was never really that close to Jacob and Remy, so it didn’t hit her the way it hit me. “Maybe we should break up,” she said, a smile lingering in her voice. “We’ll have a huge fight and tell everyone we hate each other now. Then Sed… Sedi… whatever they’re called might leave me alone. We’ll get back together later, obviously. After you quit the House. You are going to quit the House, aren’t you? I mean, it can’t be worth it at this point. How well does it pay?”

  “I’m not sure I can just quit whenever,” I said.

  “Hm…” She pretended to think. “Well, you’ll just have to fake your own death! That would be fun, right? We should do that.”

  I ended our conversation feeling more cheerful than I had since the incident. It was probably the first time I cracked a smile. Phoebe is a treasure, and I won’t let anything happen to her. That’s why I don’t care what Eden has to say. He has no idea what it’s like to lose everything and be left with one last person, to fear for them more than anything else, and to know you still aren’t strong enough to protect them.

  I march aimlessly through the halls of the Gate. At this point, anywhere Eden isn’t is exactly where I want to be. Music draws me to the lab. It’s lively and fun, and I’m curious about who’s listening to it. The lab door is open a crack, and when I peer in, I see a woman at work. She’s standing before a counter furnished with vials, computer screens, and old-school file folders. Every once in a while, she dances to another counter and gazes down at a glass box with something odd suspended inside. The thing is sealed tight with rubber gloves attached to its walls. I move closer, intrigued by the object in the box. It looks like a piece of leather.

  The dancing woman twirls once, sees me, and scrambles to get me out. “You can’t be in here,” she says. “Get.” She’s a stalky woman with such an elaborately braided hairstyle she looks like she belongs on a throne in some science fiction movie. Her red lipstick looks even brighter in contrast with her white lab coat.

  She shoves me, but I don’t budge. “What are you working on there?” I ask, leaning to see around her.

  “None of your business, kid. You’re not cleared.”

  I still don’t budge, and she’s clearly not willing to use any real force to get me out. “If it’s off limits, why was the door open?”

  “Because it’s damn hot, and the air’s not working. Cain’s been a cheap bastard lately. Now out, kid. I’m serious. I have no qualms about writing you up.”

  “Are you even my superior?” I ask.

  “Unless you’re a Tennin, absolutely. I’m Judge Abigail Ramirez, and you look new.”

  I hold out my hand, still refusing to back up an inch. “Orion Bachman.”

  “Great.” She groans. “Eden’s new Acolyte. I’ve heard things about you, Bachman, and none of them are good.”

  “I’m not that new.” I step around her and head toward the glass box. “What’s this?” Something appears to be embedded in the leather, which, upon closer inspection, looks less like regular leather and more like preserved human skin. “Is this a Finger of God fragment?”

  “No.” She sidles up beside me. “Don’t touch that.”

  “You can write me up. I don’t mind.” I flash her my most winning smile, but she only scowls back. Looks like I’ll have to break out all the charm for this one. “Is this Ying Yue’s fragment?”

  Abigail sighs and appears to give up. She moves to a computer screen and starts tapping away on the keyboard. “If you’re going to insist on asking stupid questions, I’m going to have to check your clearance level. I’ll need to see some I.D.” She checks a file after I show her my House I.D. and wrinkles her nose at what she finds. “Okay. Wow. You’ve been given the highest clearance level. That’s unusual. I heard Cain was considering you to take Ying Yue’s place, but I was sure it was a joke. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be given a Tennin’s clearance.”

  I show her my palms in an over-animated shrug. “Maybe I’m just really good at my job.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns down her music. “Well, it’s not my call and not my problem. I’m not in a position to question Cain’s judgment. Fine.” She points to the glass box that caught my interest. “That’s the thirteenth fragment of the Finger of God. Only myself, Cain, and the Tennins know it exists. Typically, subsequent fragments can’t sustain the microorganisms the way the first thirteen do. The organisms always die. We’re working to change that.”

  “Why?” I lean closer to examine the fragment. It’s fascinating, just a lump under the skin, but it turns you into a god.

  “Are you serious? Because it’s life-saving stuff. If we could figure out how to sustain these microorganisms, or reproduce them at least, it could change medicine as we know it.”

  “You think quantum entanglement is the key to medicine?”

  “It seems to be the key to something anyway.” She pushes back her keyboard and leans against the counter. “These microorganisms—the saints, we like to call them—sustain the life of whatever they touch. Similarly, their counterparts, the sinners, cause immediate death to whatever they touch. The sinners are the organisms we found in the rust on the Chains of Peter. Even they could work some good if we could figure out how to control them. They don’t just kill people, animals, and plants. They kill viruses, bacteria, cancer cells. If we could make them discriminate somehow—by changing their genetic code or modifying their entanglement maybe—we could cure any illness caused by a living organism. Can you imagine?”

  “There’s no way the House of David has the equipment to study quantum entanglement.”

  “We’re working on it. In the meantime, there are plenty of government agencies willing to let us use theirs. It just means a lot of hotel rooms for me.”

  “So that’s why I haven’t met you yet.” I grin at her, and she smiles tentatively back. Then something Whiteface said occurs to me: While we all go about our mundane lives believing nothing out of the ordinary is possible, hope incarnate is being hoarded and hidden by people who’ve appointed themselves the arbiters of faith. “Hey, shouldn’t the House share this information with other scientists? If it could advance medicine the way you say it could, shouldn’t everyone be given a crack at it?”

  She sits in an office chair on wheels and stretches her fingers, readying herself to enter the data she’s gathered. “It’s been tried already,” she says. “A group of scientists in France were studying the microorganisms a decade back. They all wound up dead. Every last one of them. Even the head scientist was found dead in her home, alongside her equally dead husband and their permanently traumatized daughter. Maybe you’ve heard of the Denau murders?”

  My mouth falls open. “As in Mary Denau?”

  Abigail nods. “The new leader of Seditio, as we recently learned. Seems she was far more traumatized than anyone gave her credit for.”

  I leave the lab with more questions than answers. None of this makes sense. If the sharing of this science was what got her family killed, why would Mary work with an organization that actively opposes keeping it secret? I wish I could ask her. She didn’t seem as bad as all that when I met her. Everyone calls her crazy, but she saved my life and helped me defeat Whiteface, so I owe her something, I suppose. Anyway, if she went through all that as a kid and still wound up the leader of a powerful organization like Seditio, she’s probably the strongest person I’ve ever met. No matter what she’s done to me, she’s exactly the kind of person I aspire to be.

  * * *

  Later that night, I head back to the lab. No one’s there, but I slipped a key into my pocket on my way out. Hacking into their computers is almost as easy. They really need to get a handle on their security. Maybe being on a vessel like the Gate has given them false confidence. I start by scrolling through Abigail’s recent email communications and am immediately rewarded with information I’m almost certain I was not meant to have.

  Cain,

  As I understand it, Ying Yue’s fragment of the Finger of God was stolen after the fight. Is there any chance of recovery? Having a fragment not in use to test would be exceptionally helpful.

  Abigail

  If Ying Yue’s fragment is missing, how was Cain going to promote me to Judge? I feel sick when I realize the probable answer. I’m not getting promoted because I’m the most qualified. I’m getting promoted because I’m the most expendable. Cain plans to make me a throwaway Judge—someone nonessential who fills the position so the House doesn’t appear weak. I scroll on to read Cain’s response.

  Ramirez,

  I’m afraid there’s little chance of recovering the fragment and every chance Seditio intends to use it to their own ends. As for continuing testing, I’ve decided to entrust you with classified information. There is a thirteenth fragment, which the House has kept under wraps in case we were compromised. You can use this fragment for testing. It’s imperative we master the technology before Seditio does.

  Cain

  So, Abigail wasn’t lying. There really is a thirteenth fragment, and Ying Yue’s has been stolen by Seditio. If I was to take her place as a Judge, would Cain give me the thirteenth fragment? Surely not. The House is now in an arms race with its number one antagonist. There’s no way Cain will risk losing that race over one expendable Judge. I log out and leave the key on the rack where I originally found it.

  I can’t help wondering if Eden is aware of this. He is, after all, a Tennin with the highest clearance. A familiar voice in my head—one I’ve had since childhood that wants to find some good in everyone—suggests Eden’s insistence that I take time to heal is his way of trying to protect me without revealing classified information. Maybe he knows Cain intends to use me as cannon fodder, and he’s not okay with it. Maybe I misjudged him. Or maybe Eden, like everyone else aboard this ship, is loyal to the House of David and no one else.

  * * *

  Days pass, and the tension between Eden and me gets worse rather than better. I don’t know what to think of his motives, and I’m not sure I want to ask. If he showed any indication he was willing to defy the House, I might think our relationship is worth fighting for. As it stands, he hasn’t said anything about Cain wanting to advance me despite being short a Finger of God fragment. All I can surmise from Eden’s silence is that my life is worth less than his job, otherwise, he’d be upfront and risk the wrath of his superiors.

  I spend the afternoon at the shooting range. The activity has the benefit of occupying both my mind and body, so I’m not left to overthink things. I’m just lining up what I’m sure will be a fantastic shot, when the lights flicker, and my concentration is broken. I turn to see Cain standing in the doorway. When I finally get my earmuffs off, he says, “I’m assigning you to a new mission, Bachman. Be at the War Prep Room at 0800 tomorrow.” He’s gone before I can respond because, of course, I won’t refuse him. No one ever refuses him, do they? No one ever tells him no.

  Once again, I’m questioning everything. Just what sort of organization have I gotten myself involved in? When I joined, I wanted to believe the House of David was all about the greater good. They were the heroes fighting the villains to protect ordinary people from cults and chaos. But as is the case with almost every organization, once you see its underbelly, all the dirt starts to show. Something’s not right about the House of David.

  For example, why do they act like secrecy is paramount while letting so much intel slip to Seditio? And why do governments seem to trust them completely—spending millions to fund them and giving them access to labs, equipment, and soldiers? Governments aren’t known to be squeaky clean organizations themselves. So, what about the House of David makes them feel safe enough to share their resources? It’s like the House is its own little government with its own cultures and rituals, its own powerful monarch, and its own questionable alliances.

  There’s corruption in the House of David, and I can smell it, even from here. It smells like rot. It haunts my dreams all night and follows me to the War Prep Room the next morning. Abigail is there with Joshua and Cain. I sit at the table next to Joshua, who leans over and says, “Hey, Rion, Abby, and I are getting lunch after the meeting. You want to join us?”

  “Why?” I ask.

  He knits his brow. “Because it’s been a while, that’s all. We thought you could use a little social time. All work and no play makes Rion a dull boy, right?”

  I catch his reference and glare at him. “I’m not crazy.”

  He rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. It was just a joke, man. You’ve gotta loosen up a little. Come on. Have a beer with us. It’ll do you good, especially since we’re going to be on a mission together soon. Camaraderie’s important in battle, isn’t it?”

  That’s another thing. “Why do we assume every mission is going to be a battle? Aren’t we just supposed to be gathering artifacts and breaking up cults?”

  He shrugs. “Because Seditio…” For a moment, he looks confused. Then he sighs and says, “You know what? Never mind. Have fun brooding by yourself.”

  We’re interrupted by Eden stumbling into the room. He looks tipsy and definitely in need of a shower. “Are you drunk?” I ask him, a bit disgusted.

  “Blame Drew. He wouldn’t let me leave the bar. That guy’s an animal.” He chuckles and slumps into the chair on the other side of me. I wish I could hold my breath without drawing attention to myself. The smell of alcohol is strong on him. He notes my disgust and crosses his arms behind his head in a bad show of indifference. “Whatever. Let’s get started.”

  At the head of the table, Cain draws a deep breath and shakes his head. “You’re treading on thin ice, Eden.”