Lords of Kobol - Prelude: Of Gods and Titans

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Lords of Kobol - Prelude: Of Gods and Titans Page 11

by Edward T. Yeatts III

committee. The word of Ohr Zahd spread. By the time the Atticans grew into a major power, with their worship of Cronus and his Pantheon of Titans, the violence of Ohr Zahd's believers waned and they converted through speech and evangelizing. Isinnia was fractured by regional beliefs; still of the one formerly called Ohr Zahd, yet differing in tone and message. A unifying force was needed and a middle path was forged. The Median Church was founded. A large power, the Church converted the remaining nations of other beliefs with the edge of their sword. So much time had passed. New thoughts led to branching from the Median Church and strife still existed among the separate similar faiths, sometimes marked by violence, but mostly not.

  The female Messenger refocused herself on Minah Gaber. Her faith was the product of millennia of warfare, imagination, compromise, survival. It was remarkable.

  Hours after her last sale, the woman was still smiling and still speaking to her god in her mind. The tender found this remarkable, too. She called on her god and her deity gave no answer. No customers arrived. Yet her steadfastness remained.

  The evening came. Customers returned to the market and an envigorated Minah stood and yelled out the contents of her cart. No one stopped.

  The tender drifted into the center of the lane as people passed Gaber and continued on their way to the main area. A man came near and the Messenger leaned forward and said, "Fruit."

  The man stopped, looked through the tender and turned toward Minah. He took three steps and said, "A box of dates, please."

  Gaber smiled and exchanged the goods. When the man had gone, she thought, Thank you, God. Please send another.

  The female felt some pleasure at that, to her surprise. She looked into the stream of potential customers and whispered simple instructions at several more.

  XIV

  VITELUS

  157 Years Before the End

  The doctor pushed his hand into the glove. It was thick and heavy, but he could lift it, even though he was so very tired.

  "Not that tired," he said out loud. "I can go."

  Once his arm was in up to his shoulder, Dr. Gram Vitelus held it up and looked through the glass case at it.

  "Lattice intact," he said. "Charged. Clean. Ready to go." His voice trailed off and he continued to mumble, "Ready to go. Go. Go."

  He lost all help on his project two years ago. He stayed up far longer than he should have and he began to hallucinate. He knew someone was in the room with him. He yelled and destroyed furniture. He nearly destroyed all his work before a student stopped him. Vitelus got some sleep, nearly an entire day, but when he woke, he was no better. He spoke to himself out loud. He twitched. He was paranoid.

  "Ready to dip. Dip, dip. Double dip," he said.

  With a manipulator arm, Gram removed the cap on his vat of wolfram cells. He turned his gloved hand down and slowly inserted it into the container.

  "Warm." He kept speaking as he sank it to his elbow. "Tight. Lots of pressure." He looked over at a computer screen. The three bars displayed were all blue. He nodded and tapped a key on the panel. There was a high-pitched whine and then he slumped toward the tank. "Very heavy. Very warm."

  The computer beeped and Vitelus pulled his arm from the vat. The shiny metallic spheres clung to him in great globs situated along the lines of the lattice on the glove. Gram smiled and jumped up and down a little. Once it was free of the container, he used the arm to replace the top.

  "Now's the time." He pushed another button. "Fun."

  The globs flattened and coated the entire length of the glove. Vitelus smiled again and he spread his fingers apart. It was like an armored glove from the knights of fairy tales. It was flexible and malleable. It seemed to glow and, when he held it up to the glass, it acted like a mirror, perfectly reflecting his tired face.

  "Fun time," he said. He pushed another button and the surface of the metal skin rippled, grew dim and dull, and then became red. He jumped as high as he could with his arm still inside. He bit his knuckle and laughed through the pain. "Good!" he yelled. "More to do."

  He pushed a couple of keys and the red surface became shiny like before. It rippled and swelled, making his arm seem twice as large. His tests were going better than expected.

  A dart struck his neck.

  Vitelus fell against the case and the shiny metal arm inside the contained area hit the closed vat. Nothing happened to it, but the shock of the impact caused the wolfram cells to shimmer and lose their shape.

  "Clear," a soldier said. Seven men came inside and began to sweep equipment and books into large bins. The armed soldier pressed his fingers against the doctor's throat and nodded. "He's good. Bag him up."

  One of the soldiers stopped at the case and stared at the gleaming metal glove inside. "What about this?"

  The leader looked in the case and raised his eyebrows, "Bring it all."

  XV

  AHLJAELA

  156 Years Before the End

  His coughing woke him.

  Mar sat up in bed and his wife brought a damp cloth to his mouth. She smacked his back and said, "Get it up."

  He coughed a large, quaking expectoration and a cloudy glob poured from his mouth into the cloth. He looked at it and nodded. "Not as bad as before."

  "Yes," she said. She dropped the cloth in a bin and said, "The bleeding seems to have stopped."

  Mar flopped back onto his pillow. He heard birds chirping and he looked toward the window. They were still blocked by the large wicker panels. "Open them, please."

  Laphé complied and bright daylight poured in. Mar covered his face for a moment until he could adjust. "The children are outside. I don't know if it's good for them to see you just yet."

  "Yes," he said. "I don't want to risk it." He adjusted the covers before a horror washed over him. He sat up straight and began to push the blankets off. "What day is it?!"

  "No, no," his wife said, "you don't have to go until tomorrow." Mar relaxed some and slowly replaced the sheets. "You haven't rested one full day yet."

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Don't be. You're ill."

  Ahljaela looked toward the blue sky. The trees on the nearby slopes were green. The day seemed bright and colorful. So different than his time at the factory.

  "I had to use a denar to ride the bus part of the way home. I just couldn't walk."

  "You told me yesterday," Laphé said. "You don't have to apologize."

  He felt like he had to. Over the last few months, it seemed like they had fewer and fewer denars to put in the jar each week. On occasion, they had to take some out to fix the house or pay for a doctor after Rovil broke his arm.

  "Do you think you'll be ready to go back to work tomorrow?"

  He paused. "Yes."

  It was a lie.

  Mar turned from the window and looked at the corner of the bedroom. Shadows fell toward the floor and his eyes scanned the lines of the wood. He was in the same position three days ago. Resting on his bunk, in the same room with nearly a dozen men. They were all coughing. Two were coughing blood.

  The smell of sweat was everywhere, like usual. But there was also the odor of dried feces, the metallic hint of blood. Mar was staring at the shadows in the corner of the small room when he first felt the urge to cough. Once he did, it didn't stop.

  By morning, almost a third of Siler River Plastics' workers were ill. The foremen tried to whip them into shape, but that only worked with those who only just began to show the symptoms. For the rest, they couldn't even move.

  A masked doctor came by at lunch time. He examined many of the men and said it would pass in a few days. The bosses were not pleased. Those who could stand were forced to work. Those who didn't were told to leave.

  He coughed and wheezed for two days. Blood ran from his mouth and mucous filled a plastic bag, but Mar kept working. He pulled plastic frames from molds and set them on conveyor belts for fourte
en hours.

  Even if the sickness passed, how much more could he take?

  XVI

  BARAZ

  156 Years Before the End

  Karin held the clear pane of glass gingerly. She swiped her finger across the top and the lights went away. She looked at her companions and nodded.

  "Should I take that?" Mione said.

  "Yes, please." Baraz straightened her suit jacket and began reciting the opening lines in her head. There were three points to be made and she could get them out easily enough. If the press had questions, she could steer them back to one of her previously made points. Simple.

  "It's time."

  Karin nodded and looked at the tall male and female behind her. "Ready?"

  They both nodded.

  Mione parted the curtains and the three strode out onto the dais. There were a few camera flashes and only two bright lights for video. Baraz scanned the room and was surprised to see so few people had come. She raised a single eyebrow and approached the podium while the man and woman behind her stood to one side.

  "Good morning." A few buttons were pressed in the audience and their devices began to record. "Baraz Bio Medical is pleased to introduce, today, two people who will change the world." The duo stepped forward. "This is Ouranos." The tall, muscular, dark-haired man nodded. "And this is Gaia." Only slightly shorter than he, the athletic brunette nodded, too. "They are the first artificially created people in history."

  Karin paused and kept a peripheral eye on the press. A few eyes widened. Some turned their heads side-to-side to look at their fellow reporters. The rest simply sat

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