He left the building and turned, heading for the train station. A waft of smoke drifted to him, reminding Sin he hadn't had a cigarette in a while. Naturally, that made his mind suddenly crave one. Just as he reached into his pocket for his pack, he saw Trent. The man's back was pressed against the stone wall, and ashes hung in a precarious arc from the end of his lips. The cigarette they'd once been had all but burned out.
"You talk to him?" Sin asked, claiming a spot on the wall beside him.
"Yeah." Like Sin, Trent still wore both his armor and his weapons. "Some lady on the train told me. I was on my way to meet my new angel."
Sin nodded, pulling in a deep breath of nicotine. "He say anything?"
Trent glanced quickly at Sin then turned his eyes back to the buildings before them. "Yep. He said not to lose the faith, but my place was in the ranks. He said I could see what others couldn't,and he thought it might end up important. Said not to piss off the new Praetor."
Sin chuckled. "Yeah. That's one thing you're good at."
"Had some practice," Trent admitted. "Don't know how Benedict kept from killing me."
Sin shrugged and glanced over at his friend. "Probably gave you some task that ended up with you walking past a door you couldn't resist."
"Yeah," Trent said with a sigh. "He sure did. I stared at that brand for a long time before I found the courage to ask why it was there."
"What did he tell you?" Sin asked.
Trent chuckled. "Probably the same thing he told you. Something about how the hand of God had to prove he could take the pain before he received the kiss of the Lord."
Sin shook his hand, flinging the butt of his smoke to the ground, then smothered it to death under his heel. "I didn't ask," he admitted. "Made sense to me as soon as I saw it. Trent, I have to go."
Trent nodded slowly. "Sin? If what he's hinting at is true? You know you can still trust me, right?"
"Always, Brother."
They shared a meaningful look, then Sin turned away. The train wasn't far, and he had his thoughts to keep him company. Right now, he really didn't have time for anything else. He glanced at the sky and kept walking. He couldn't even find the time for God.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Inside the Enclave, the technician shoved the tubes into their place and guided Rissa back. This one never talked; she merely pushed and directed. It always felt like she thought the Ingénue were little more than machines needing to be stacked properly. Rissa wanted to prove her wrong, but only for a moment. Sinclair was busy with other things. If she got herself in trouble, there was no one available to get her out of it.
Rissa took another step back, then the last one, her feet finding the slight lip that would support her as the unit tilted. The glass surround slid closed, locking her securely into her "home" for the night. If she stretched her arms out, she could touch both sides. To think, Sin had imagined her living in a luxury apartment! It was much closer to a coffin. Her bay was designed to shift into the horizontal position as soon as she was secure and stay there all night long.
In minutes, Rissa was lying on her back, and the surface dimmed, shutting out the lights beyond her small private space. She took a deep breath and hoped Sin would be ok. He'd always seemed so strong, so sure of himself, but when he heard the Praetor was dying, he'd shown her another face.
He was just a man, she reminded herself. She might think he was perfect, but he felt, and hoped, and feared, like everyone else did. He put his faith in his God, and he dared to believe everything was part of a greater cause. It was a romantic notion, but for the first time, Rissa understood. If there was a meaning to the world—a divine purpose—then even the Praetor's deathwas a part of it. She closed her eyes and hoped it was true. The idea of God was unfathomable to her, but she could hope her friend's pain wasn't for nothing.
Unfortunately, there was a much more likely culprit for the Praetor's early demise. Until recently, the man had been aging at an expected pace. Just as the first precept began to be used against the enhanced, Benedict had begun to weaken. Not long after, Joshua had been promoted to Censor, or second-in-command of the Legion. The very same man had prosecuted Sin for killing a priest in an attack that mimicked the other attacks on the Ingénue.
Then there was the timing to consider.
Sin's trial had received a little too much publicity. The transcripts were public record, and with so many fan sites, the media couldn't resist the shock value of New Cincinnati's favorite priest being involved in a scandal. Thankfully, her memories had been transcribed as well, not copied, and the description made it sound like nothing more than a detached recounting. Her bosses hadn't suspected a thing.
But she did. Brother Sin had been tried for killing a priest while protecting an Ingénue. Ingénue were always highly enhanced. Sin had been defended by Praetor Benedict and Sister Julie—who was also enhanced after a work-related accident. The entire line of questioning had been about the value of human life over cyborgs, and Benedict had made it clear which side he was on simply by defending Sin.
In other words, the assassination of the Praetor had been planned much too well.
Benedict had raised Sin to follow in his footsteps. There was no other priest known to be so truly devoted to God. Joshua had been climbing the ranks quickly, but as long as Benedict was in good health, Censor was the highest position he could attain.If Benedict died, Brother Sin would be the natural replacement without some sort of... scandal.
Which meant the Legion was about to implode. Joshua's plan was now in action, but Rissa still wasn't completely sure what he wanted. Power was too vague of an answer and there simply wasn't enough data to make an accurate prediction. Yes, she knew his end goal, but without all the details of how he intended to get there, that information was all but useless!
So she had to do something. The Praetor was going to die from heavy metal poisoning. No known medical technology could spare him now. Once he passed away, the Conclave would assemble to choose a new leader of the Legion, and that would take days. Time where Joshua wouldn't be able to do anything else. Time where Rissa could do nothing but think. But there was one little thing she had to do first.
As the mechanical sounds of her ward became consistent, she followed the connection back, slowly, carefully, taking pains not to notify those watching her. When her awareness passed through the last of the firewalls and network securities, Rissa found information. She sought everything about the Legion, how they would handle the Praetor's passing, and what arrangements were typical for mourning.
Three days. On the third day Benedict would be laid to rest and a new Praetor announced. She needed to find a reason not to function properly for three days that would not concern her superiors. A tiny beep outside her care bay gave her the idea she needed, but first, she wanted to make sure Sin knew she was ok.
