The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Read online

  The Central Series

  The Academy

  The Anathema

  The Far Shores

  The Outer Dark

  The Church of Sleep

  Other Books by the Same Author

  The Night Market

  Unknown Kadath Estates, Volume One:

  Paranoid Magical Thinking

  Unknown Kadath Estates, Volume Two:

  The Mysteries of Holly Diem

  Unknown Kadath Estates, Volume Three:

  The Floating Bridge

  For Roger Zelazny and Karin Dreijer

  Copyright © 2020 by Zachary Rawlins

  Cover photographs copyright © Zodebala and BERK085

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Published by ROUS Industries.

  Oakland, California

  [email protected]

  978-0-9837501-8-5

  Cover design by ROUS Industries

  First Edition

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Where We Left Off

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Where We Left Off

  Central teeters on the edge of collapse.

  Depleted and exhausted from a pyrrhic victory against the Anathema, the surviving Auditors are trapped in Las Vegas, cut off from Central by a massive disturbance in the Ether, caused by the destruction of the Anathema World Tree. With Karim Sabir and Mitsuru Aoki dead, Michael Lacroix and Chike Okoro hospitalized, and Alex Warner and Katya Zharova missing, Alice Gallow has only Xia and a small group of untrained Auditors at her disposal, while Alistair and Song Li of the Anathema remain at large.

  Grieving the death of her father and brother in a bombing conducted at her debut, and prevented from returning to Central, Anastasia Martynova must watch from afar as the Thule Cartel execute their long-planned takeover, crushing the Black Sun and the Administration in Central, and putting the remaining Hegemony cartels in dire straits. The only remaining Black Sun asset in Central is a covert action unit, inserted at great cost, made up of Anastasia’s suitors, each hunting Gaul Thule’s head as well as a chance to wed the Mistress of the Black Sun.

  Deprived of her Auditors, Director Rebecca Levy must find a way to protect the students and staff of the Academy as war breaks out across Central. Unperturbed even with his back to the wall, Lord Henry North organizes his family and cartel for the conflict with the Thule Cartel. Taking advantage of the chaos, Emily Muir has assumed control of the Far Shores, and maneuvers her small crew of former Auditors, disenchanted Anathema, and cartel refugees for her own ends, employing diplomacy and sabotage as she positions herself among the major players in Central.

  Damaged body and soul by his incarceration in the Outer Dark and drained from the effort of destroying the World Tree, Alex waits nervously at the occupied Far Shores. Surrounded by his friends and saviors – Katya, Emily, and Vivik, nearly all the members of the Rescue Alex from the Outer Dark Club – he is desperate to locate Eerie before the Church of Sleep manifests to collect the Changeling, putting an end to her life, Alex and Eerie’s burgeoning romance, Central, and even the club itself.

  Meanwhile, in the Outer Dark, John Parson prepares for the assembly of the Church of Sleep, making one last emotional plea to his Changeling captive before the coming of the end…

  Prologue

  They regarded each other from opposite sides of an anemic campfire, at the edge of a shore composed of gleaming metal salts, a chromed reflection of the black skies shining across the flats with each persistent flash of slow lightning.

  “I don’t understand your role in all this,” she said, rubbing her shoulder, the pain of the recent dislocation lingering. “You change your mind even more often than I do.”

  “That is almost exactly what Gaul Thule said to me when we first met.” He looked as if he were considering laughter. “I apologize for being confusing.”

  “You should apologize for being a jerk.” She examined a lock of her blonde hair ruefully, only a trace of blue left at the ends. “I have better places to be right now.”

  “You could apologize for wrecking plans laid decades before you were born, for no good or sensible reason. You realize that you have demolished the life’s work of any number of people? This has been in motion for so long, and now you’ve gone and changed everything, Ériu.”

  “Are you sure that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

  “I’m not at all sure.” He shook his head. “That’s why I wanted to have this little talk, before it all gets settled.”

  “Nothing gets settled. Everything is what it is,” Eerie said. “And there is no such thing as before. Have you really not figured that out yet?”

  “I did not expect a lecture from you, of all people,” John Parson said, laughing. “Tell me the truth, Changeling. Do you still intend to come to the Church of Sleep at the appointed time? Will you meet your destiny in the White Room?”

  The man stared. The young woman looked away. The fire did not crackle and failed to generate any heat. Not that it would have helped, in the heart of incipient entropy.

  “You’re not serious?” John’s forehead creased. “You can’t mean to tell me…?”

  “I can’t? Are you so sure you know what I’m capable of?” Eerie sighed and rested her chin on her fist. “I’m the youngest. My dreams come true. You should remember that, Mr. Representative.”

  John Parson shook his head slowly.

  “I’m not a Representative quite yet, and I have no intention of becoming such. I’ve developed a taste for being me, and I have no plans to give that up. It’s not just my existence you are imperiling, you know. You’ve done so many terrible things. What could possibly be worth doing such damage to so many innocent people?”

  “I’m not telling,” Eerie said, shaking her head. “That’s my business.”

  “There is a very real chance that you have doomed us all,” John said, sounding slightly awed. “You realize that your actions have consequences aside from your own trivial concerns, don’t you? This cannot be as petty as I’ve been told. Alistair claims this whole disaster is the result of a schoolgirl romance. You cannot possibly be so self-absorbed, can you?”

  “I can be, in the right mood.” Eerie nodded serenely. “I’ve done what I wanted. I’m prepared to deal with the consequences.”

  “What of the consequences for the rest of us? We have to live in the world you’ve made, you know.”

  “It would not necessarily have been
better any other way, would it?” Eerie gave him a reproachful look. “I think it’s normal to want to change the world, to make it better. I won’t apologize for being good at it, if that’s what you want.”

  “You are not at all as I was led to believe, Ériu,” John said. “You are neither foolish nor naïve.”

  “Sometimes I’m not even nice.”

  “You are troublesome, sister,” a voice from within the campfire said, followed by a long sigh that hissed like moisture boiling out of wood. “You rejected my compassionate intervention, and now you will be sanctioned for your misbehavior. I tried to shield you from this very outcome.”

  “I really wish you could have found a better way to do it than hurting Alex,” Eerie said resentfully. “I’m sorry that he destroyed your body, though. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”

  “It certainly seemed as if he meant to do it,” the fire said crossly, a pair of bright green eyes opening near the reddened coals. “I’ve done the best I could with him, Ériu, for your sake. I’m not sure about your choices, but I’ve done my best. He strikes me as quite unreasonable, but I do want things to work out well for you.”

  “You spent a long time in Alex’s head, even if it was for the worst reasons. I’m a little jealous,” Eerie said, snapping a split end from her hair and feeding it into the fire. “I can’t do that. I have no talent for it.”

  “A boy’s head is like his room. Messy, cluttered, and malodorous,” the fire sniffed. “Hardly worth the effort to visit.”

  Eerie glanced away.

  “I appreciate your help, Samnang, even if I didn’t ask for it,” the Changeling said quietly. “You hurt him, though. I won’t forgive you for that.”

  “That was entirely for your benefit!” The fire protested with Samnang’s voice. “All I did was to prepare him a bit for what you plan to drag him into. If you had any regard at all for the boy, you would never have interfered in his life in the first place.”

  Eerie smiled hesitantly.

  “I would do it all again,” she said. “I’m sure that Alex would tell you the same.”

  ***

  “Do we have a plan?”

  “We? We don’t have anything. You are the Director, Becca. I was hoping you had something in mind.”

  “Oh.”

  Gerald Windsor glanced up from his laptop.

  “You really don’t have any ideas?”

  “I’ve got nothing,” Rebecca admitted, sitting across the table from him in the deserted faculty lounge. “We’re totally screwed.”

  “Now, now,” Gerald said, closing his laptop with a sigh. “It cannot be that dire. Let’s think it all through, shall we?”

  “What’s to think through?” Rebecca lit a cigarette. “The Ether is a mess. Central is isolated. Apports are impossible and the fixed stations are down. We have no long-distance telepathy and no Auditors. The Hegemony is hunting the remnants of the Black Sun and settling scores among themselves across Central and smashing anyone who so much as looks at them wrong in the process. Oh, yeah, let’s not forget – Gaul Thule and Henry North are set to duel tomorrow, with control of the Hegemony on the line.”

  “Do you truly believe that Gaul will battle North directly?”

  “Not for a second,” Rebecca admitted. “Henry would slaughter Gaul in a fight, and anyway, Gaul’s too smart to get his hands dirty. He has something else in mind.”

  “What, then?” Gerald smiled good-humoredly while he packed the bowl of his pipe with fragrant tobacco. “What do you expect?”

  “I don’t know!” Rebecca threw her hands in the air. “Gaul’s the damn precog, not me. I can’t remember what I did last night, much less guess what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”

  “Well, what do you intend to do?”

  “What can I do? I have no Auditors and no Alice. I have a bunch of kids who are scared shitless of the war outside, wondering whether their families are alive or dead, spread across an Academy that is impossible to secure without more personnel. I’ve been employing my protocol constantly just to keep this place from falling apart.”

  “Then the status quo is unsustainable,” Gerald pointed out reasonably. “We must find another way forward.”

  “How?”

  “Not to be contentious,” Gerald said, gripping the pipe stem between his teeth as he applied a match to the tobacco. “But you are not entirely without Auditors.”

  “What, Mikey? He’s just out of surgery, in a trauma simulation. Even with the best care, we won’t be able to wake him up for another few days, and we still don’t know if his brain was damaged.”

  “I am not referring to poor Michael,” Gerald said, shaking out the match. “Would you say that the role of Director plays to your own unique personal strengths, Rebecca?”

  “No,” Rebecca said, putting her head on the table. “I think I’m the worst Director that has ever been.”

  Gerald puffed away contentedly.

  “You know,” Rebecca said. “That was your opportunity to contradict me.”

  “What? Oh, sorry. Well…you did not betray Central, or the Academy. That is most definitely in your favor. I doubt anyone would describe you as the worst ever.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Bottom five, certainly, though…”

  “I never asked for this job, asshole.”

  “I am very aware of that. What about the job you did ask for?”

  “School counselor?”

  “As I recall, you were forced into that role as well,” Gerald reminded her. “Under duress.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I guess. Kinda came to like it.”

  “No, Director, I refer to the role you played most successfully, and the one I believe you enjoyed above any other.” Gerald took the pipe from his mouth and poked at the bowl with his little finger. “You were once an Auditor, Rebecca. You were considered something of a terror, even in comparison to Alice.”

  “You know how it is,” Rebecca said, lifting her head. “Stories get exaggerated over time.”

  “I’ve experienced that myself. In your case, however, we both know that there is something to the stories. Is it time that you played a different role? You have always been willing to do whatever Central needed. Perhaps what Central needs now is not a Director, or a counselor, but an Auditor.”

  Rebecca dropped her head back onto the table.

  “If you’re not going to take this seriously, then I’m not talking to you.”

  “I am entirely serious,” Gerald said. “Do you have any better ideas?”

  “I don’t even have any bad ideas. I’ve got nothing.”

  He gave her a smug look and puffed on his pipe.

  “Oh, you shut up,” Rebecca said. “My lack of ideas doesn’t make you clever, you know.”

  ***

  Nothing had happened for weeks, and that was fine, as far as he was concerned.

  He knew instantly on regaining consciousness that he was in a trauma simulation, but Michael was not troubled by that realization. If anything, it was a comfort – this variety of monotony suited him. He wouldn’t have minded if it kept up.

  His days were spent attending therapy sessions with a simulation of Rebecca Levy and working out in a state-of-the-art athletic facility that was filled with what appeared to be cheerful and enthusiastic gym users, if he didn’t look at them too hard. An old friend from college drilled him through calisthenics and wind sprints on a stadium field, while a former coach from his youth league days assisted with his strength training regimen.

  His nights were restful and dreamless.

  The between times were his favorite, however, the liminal hours between day and night.

  In the mornings, he walked in endless green fields, along a level and well-maintained trail, not keeping any particular pace, not even really watching the dawn slowly color the landscape. There were no hills or trees, no creeks or roads to cross. He came to no landmarks and saw no homes or buildings. He never encountered another person on these walks, and no m
atter how far he wandered, the way back was easy, and breakfast was always waiting.

  The evenings were spent at a bar near the water at Daytona Beach, where he remembered a weekend getaway years before, during one of their many reconciliations, after their even more numerous fights.

  Alice arrived a half-hour late every evening, in a dress and full makeup, always walking in right after his second drink arrived.

  She wore red and sat very close beside him, her thigh pressed against his own.

  They stayed for hours, watching the ocean slap the white sand lazily, and the gulls circle and dive for the trash scattered along the beach. Pedestrians were rare and traffic was nonexistent, but the bar hummed with energy and conversation, and the service was prompt and friendly.

  They always intended to take a long walk along the beach as the sun set, but then she would have a bit too much to drink for that and talked him back to the room instead.

  He always woke before dawn to find her sleeping beside him, her hair in his face and their legs entangled.

  He would not have minded at all if everything had stayed just like that.

  He remembered just exactly what had happened to him, of course, though he did not think about it very much. Occasionally, he found himself thinking of a zombified Mitsuru looming above him, dripping corrosive black blood onto his face, and in his weaker moments, he recalled the searing pain. He was aware, also, that nanites and advanced medical care aside, his face was ruined, and that he was very likely blind, and equally likely to have suffered brain damage.

  He tried not to let any of this bother him, and he was for the most part successful.

  Michael Lacroix was not new to hardship.

  He lingered in the trauma simulation after requesting maximum time dilation, stretching each second in the real world into weeks of perfect days.