THREE MONTHS PRIOR

Herod gasped as Dee ducked out from underneath his arm and grabbed him, slowly lowering him to the smooth log. His legs burned and tingled, his feet hurt, and he felt like there was a stone in his back. She held his arm for a second, steadying him, then stood up.

"It'll get easier," she said. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes and her lighter as she kept talking. "Lucky for you, you've been walking around in that disaster frame for a few centuries, so your brain knows what to do."

"Spare one?" Herod asked, looking up and wiping his forehead so the sweat quit dripping into his eyes.

Dee just nodded, handing him the lit cigarette in her mouth and pulling out another.

"Not bad, today, three hundred steps," Dee said. She lit her cigarette and sat down next to him.

Herod of was proud of himself. Four days and he didn't flinch from her.

Less than a half mile away a black shuttle set down, the counter-grav engines whispering.

"They're back," Herod said.

Dee nodded. "Yes, they are."

Herod sat silently for a little while before looking at Dee. "What about Wally?"

Dee nodded. "He's all right. In the buffer, for him no time is passing," Dee said. She gave him a slight look with a wry twist of her mouth and Herod braced himself. "Why would you care, Herod? He's just a robot, barely aware. FIDO is more aware than he is."

Herod just sighed. "He's been with me the whole time. By my side. Often the only companion I had for months or years. I just don't want to leave him in a corner in sleep mode."

Dee seemed to relax slightly. "All right. I'll make sure that if anything happens, it'll kick him out of the mat-trans on Rigel that I found."

"Can I ask a question?" Herod asked.

"Ask away," Dee said, exhaling smoke toward the fire.

"The mat-trans system, how much of it was forgotten?" he asked.

Dee shrugged. "Eighty, ninety percent. Well, to be honest, damn near all of it. There's a lot of old mat-trans systems hidden away in what these idiots call the Core Terra Systems. Quite a few ships have a mat-trans, and a bunch of weirdos pretending to be a fictional TV show have a modified version on their ships."

"How many of them do you control or could control?" Herod asked. He started clenching one fist, counting to five, then relaxing that one and tensing the other. Calisthenics, Dee had called them.

"All of them," Dee admitted. "The whole system. I control the master system."

"Does it bother you that they completely forgot about the master control system and just assumed that each mat-trans worked on its own?" Herod asked.

Dee shook her head. "No. It's a complicated system and to fully understand it requires some spark, some type of inspiration. I've explained it to people and they look at me like a cow on its way to the slaughterhouse," she snorted. "I once gave a briefing to the Joint Chiefs of Staff of what you now call the Hamburger Kingdom and when I was done they all just stared at me like I'd pulled a rabbit out of their asses."

Herod chuckled. "But how does the ability to move troops and equipment instantly, across any barrier, to a secure area, assist us, the military?"

Dee snorted again. "How does the ability to clandestinely move people and material around help us, the intelligence agencies. Maybe you can put, like, a clock on it or something?"

Herod laughed. Before, he wouldn't have.

But that would have been before he spent centuries repairing system after system.

Menhit pushed through the bushes, holding a branch back. FIDO bounded out of the brush and over by the fire, shaking his big armored form, then turned and watched where Menhit was standing.

Daxin backed into the clearing, his shoulders bunched. Pete was next, his hand resting on the heavy warsteel box. Legion was carrying it at a dozen other positions, two of him in power armor.

"Set him here," Menhit ordered, pointing at one of the logs everyone took time to sit on.

Legion, Pete, and Daxin moved over and set down what looked to Herod to be a giant coffin. It had LED displays, plug sockets, and cut cables on the sides.

"I'll open it," Pete said, crouching down. He looked up. "They made me."

"We know, brother," Menhit said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "We know."

Pete went to work as Legion came over and sat down next to Dee even as a dozen of his other selves puffed into dust and vanished. "Dee, can you have one of your boys give Daxin a canteen?"

Dee nodded and motioned. One of the archaic dressed men moved over to Daxin, tapping his shoulder. When Daxin turned around the other man handed Daxin a canteen and a folded OD green cloth.

"Thank you," was all Daxin said.

The other man said nothing, moving over to the side and sitting down next to a half dozen that more or less looked like him.

Herod had been around enough clones to know that they weren't clones. They had been chosen for their appearance as well as their skills.

"Almost," Pete said. There was a beep and the lid shifted with hiss, vapor streaming out. "He doesn't have long."

Daxin nodded, moving up and pulling the lid open.

Herod just stared. Inside was a desiccated human form, naked, pierced with cables and wires. There was barely any hair left on his head, just blotchy patches, and what was left was white and looked stiff and bristly. The body was pale and the muscles looked soft and rotted.

"Brother," Daxin said, kneeling down. He poured water from the canteen onto the cloth and reached in, bathing the figure's forehead.

"Phillip?" the figure's lips cracked and bled when he spoke.

"It's me. Menhit's here too. With Luke, Peter, and Kalki," Daxin said.

"I'm tired," the figure said, the voice a whisper. "I hurt."

"I know, brother," Daxin said. He dabbed the cloth on the figure's lips.

"Thirsty," the figure whispered.

"Just a little," Daxin said.

Herod watched the big man reach into the coffin and tip the canteen against the figure's lips. Herod could tell the figure barely had the strength to swallow, most of the water spilling into the coffin.

Something shorted out with a crack but Daxin paid it no mind.

Menhit had moved up and had her hand resting on the figure's brow.

"Oh, little brother," she said softly.

The short, lean brown skinned man stood up from where he had been petting a little goat, moving over and looking down. He reached in and touched the figure's shoulder.

"Brother," was all he said, and Herod had a hard time believing he was looking at a man called "the Omnicidal" as the goat came up to Herod and butted his knee.

Herod scratched between the goat's ears as he watched each of the Immortals touch one of their own.

"I tried my best, Phillip," the figure wheezed.

"I know you did," Daxin said.

"I'm sorry, brother," Pete said.

"You did not wish to do those things to me, Peter," the figure wheezed. "I could hear you screaming as they tortured you."

Herod went to look away and Dee grabbed his chin.

"No, you watch it, just as I am," Dee hissed, her fingers tightening painfully on Herod's jaw. "These are our sins, Harry. Humanity's sins."

There was a flickering near the head of the coffin. Like fairy dust sparkling. It expanded and Herod found himself holding his breath. A man formed, flickered, then solidified. Code streamed down his body, patches of silver runes swirling and sparkling on his face, chest.

Herod had never been a religious person. Had never thought about the image he was seeing except to mention it in conversation or perhaps swear.

He still found himself sliding off the log and kneeling as everyone present did but the archaically dressed men and Dee.

"Father," Daxin said, looking up. "Our brother."

"Is dying," the figure said. He reached down and touched the figure's face. "He is in great pain. Suffering."

"Save him, Father, please," Daxin said, and Herod was startled to hear that the big man, known to the Galactic Arm as Enraged Phillip, was pleading.

"I cannot," the figure said softly. He produced a cloth made of code and wiped the tears from the figure's face. "Would you have me prolong his suffering, his agony, Phillip?"

"Father," the desiccated figure said. The eyes opened and Herod saw they were bloodshot and yellow.

"I am here," the man of code made flesh said.

"I'm ready, Father," the one in the coffin managed to wheeze.

The man of code looked at Menhit and nodded.

Menhit reached in, behind the desiccated figure's head, and slowly disconnected a heavy cable.

The figure wheezed twice, twisted, sighed, and went limp.

Daxin bowed his head, clenching his fists.

For a moment, Herod saw it.

A lean man, tall, with a gentle face and a smile, made of silvery light and swirling code, took the Digital Omnimessiah's hand and was helped from the coffin. The two stood there a moment and vanished.

FIDO barked three times, then howled.

Menhit sat down next to the coffin, on the log, and withdrew a pipe from her satchel. She lit it with a match and puffed on it.

Legion stood up slowly, like he was feeling every hour of his age, and moved stiffly over to the fire, staring down at it as he warmed his hands.

Kalki moved over and sat down next to the coffin, clicking his tongue, as Herod sat back onto the smooth log.

The goat next to Herod scampered over to Kalki and he scratched its back.

Daxin stood up slowly, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Be damned the Combine and the Imperium," he snarled. He looked down. "We have to bury him."

Dee snapped her fingers. "Boys. Momma has a chore for you."

The men in ancient clothing reached down as one to the heavy packs they always had with them, pulling a plastic carrier open. They reached in and pulled out something that looked weirdly complex to Herod. As one they unfolded it, revealing a small shovel.

Silently they moved into the brush.

Daxin stood up slowly. "I'll go with them," he said.

"I will sit with our brother," Kalki said, still petting the goat, which looked like there was nothing better in the world than what was happening.

Herod watched as Daxin, still clenching his jaw, followed.

"Without Matty and Kibuka, it's going to more difficult," Legion said to no-one in particular, still warming his hands.

Menhit nodded.

"What about Guanya?" Kalki asked.

Legion shook his head. "Last time I saw him, a Lank tank busted open his vault on Io. I'm pretty sure he was able to escape the bag via Deadspace," Legion said. "He's not answering."

Menhit nodded.

Herod noticed that both Menhit and Kalki had silent tears running down their face.

"It was good to see our Father again," Menhit said.

Kalki nodded. "It was."

"Yeah," Pete said, staring at the ground.

Legion nodded. "Yes."

"What about Bputun?" Kalki asked.

"The Pubvians returned. He no longer stands alone," Menhit said. "He has returned to the loving arms of his wife and the warming presence of his puffies."

Pete shook his head. "It's going to be a lot more difficult."

Herod looked around. "Why? The Phasic Shades, the Screaming Ones, and the Enraged Ones are gone."

"Bellona has still spoken," Menhit said softly. "It will not be easier."

"We need Bellona," Kalki said.

"I know how to get her here," Legion said. "Don't worry, that's covered."

Menhit just nodded.

It was silent, just the fire crackling, for a long while. Herod kept expecting Dee to say something, interject an insult or taunt into the silence, instead she just stared at the fire, chainsmoking and taking long drinks off the bottle of whiskey that never seemed to get lower, her eyes reflecting the flame and completely unreadable.

After a long while Daxin and what Herod had only heard referred to as "Momma's Special Boys" came back.

No words were exchanged. Legion, Kalki, and Daxin lifted the coffin. Menhit draped a cloth over the figure's face. Two of Legion picked up the lid. The procession moved into the bushes. Before Herod could do anything, Dee put her hand on Herod's thigh, squeezing painfully. When he looked at her she shook her head.

Almost ten minutes went by before a faint shout and then a fussilade of gunshots broke the silent, sending the local equivalent of birds squawking into the sky. Herod looked at Dee, who just shook her head while staring into the fire.

Twice more the shots fired.

It was twenty minutes after that that the group returned. Herod watched as the strange, mostly silent men sat down and began taking apart the black rifles they carried, wiping down the internal components.

Daxin moved up and looked down at Dee.

"Thank you, for that," Daxin rumbled.

"Shut up," Dee snapped. "Don't ruin it blabbing at me like a hooker who doesn't know she's supposed to leave when she gets paid."

Daxin nodded and Herod was surprised to see that Daxin didn't seem to take offense, just stared.

"Let me know when we're ready," Dee said, still staring at the fire.

"Now's a good time," Daxin said. "Good as any."

Dee stood up, grabbed Daxin's hand as FIDO ran up to the two of them. Mist formed around their feet for a moment and they vanished.

----------

Herod watched, kneading the muscles in his legs, as Daxin and Dee reappeared.

A quantum byproduct, he faintly remembered Dee telling him about the mist.

Daxin's exposed skin was covered in dried blood.

"Sit down, you ninny," Dee snapped.

Menhit walked over to them and looked down as Daxin sat down. "There were problems?"

"The big thug got jumped by a patch of vegipygmies," Dee said. "We had to run."

"Did you get it?" Menhit asked.

"I got it," Daxin said. He drew the knife from his boot and started digging at a thick scab that was part of a line down his forearm. "As soon as I get the thorns out, we'll start."

-------------

The campsite was still. The fire had burned low. The never-emptying bottle of whiskey sat, almost full, next to Kalki, who was sprawled out snoring, the goat on his lap. Menhit was leaned against the log, her eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. Legion was back to back with himself, both him asleep. Dee was sprawled out next to the fire, her hair tousled, resting her head on Pete's stomach. Herod himself was half sprawled on the log.

Daxin was by the fire, leaning against a sleeping FIDO.

Next to him was an open bag with a half dozen golden discs wrapped in clear plastic spilled out around it.

A pair of purple flames appeared in the darkness near the edge of the campfire. They vanished, only to reappear a little ways away. The two small purple flames repeated it several times. A pebble arced out, hitting Daxin in the forehead.

The big man just snored, the cup in his hand half-full of whiskey.

The two flames kept appearing and disappearing. Pebbles arced out to bounce off of people's hands or legs.

Finally a shape moved from the shadows. A woman, crouched down, licking her lips hungrily as she stared at Daxin. Her eye sockets were full of purple flames, her throat oozed black blood from a long ragged gash across it. She was dressed all in black, rags on top of rags.

The woman moved carefully, darting from spot to spot, her eyes constantly on Daxin.

Finally she got close, licking her lips, the flames in her eyes dancing eagerly.

She reached down, her pale skin gleaming in the ruddy firelight.

She grabbed the bag with one hand and the spilled golden discs with the other.

"GOTCHA!" Daxin yelled, grabbing her arm.

The young woman tried to pull away but Daxin just stood there as everyone else stirred to life, sitting up, smiling.

"Rats," Bellona said softly.