by James Maxey
“Sure,” she started to say, then realized it was a rhetorical question.
“We’ve borrowed one or two or four. The design and planning things on these missions is so long the hardware on board is stuff I was tinkering with in high school. I’ve hacked them to get us some internet. Slow, like way worse the AOL dialup, but it keeps us up to date on what’s happening back on earth. Obviously, it’s letting me make you a voice over IP call to the phone number we hacked from your mother’s file on you.”
Sarah grimaced. Should she start asking questions now, and presume he’d start answering them in a half hour? Or should she put up with his somewhat rambling storytelling and hope he’d answer her questions before she even asked them? Like, her big, number one question: Why call now? Did this have something to do with the Covenant going to Mars?
“Enough backstory,” said Richard. “I mean, I know you want to know more, but right now you don’t have a lot of time for conversation. Steam-Dragon, Chimpion, and App showed up here about two hours ago on some kind of assassination mission. Since we do get the news here, we knew these were your team members from the Covenant, and, yes, before you ask, I know you’re Skyrider, even with the plastic surgery and the dark hair.”
Sarah clenched her fists. Assassination mission? Amelia must have misinterpreted their intentions. Probably, all three of them were dead.
“I don’t think App or the dragon were fully in the loop on the true mission,” said Richard. “After Chimpion killed Amelia, she killed her companions to keep them from talking.”
“Amelia’s dead?” Sarah said, not believing the news.
“Wait,” said Richard. “I probably just gave you a heart attack. The chimp didn’t actually kill Amelia. Amelia’s fine. What Chimpion killed was an iron manikin Amelia created that looked like her. Amelia fed your teammates some BS about how her real body had died years ago. Since superheroes put up with such weird shit on a daily basis, I think they bought it. Chimpion dissolved the doppelganger with some nasty acid, then turned on her companions and killed them both. Amelia had already hurt Steam-Dragon, but didn’t intend for her to actually die. Right before Steam-Dragon died, Chimpion did the classic supervillain secret plan reveal. I was standing right beside her listening to the whole thing. She’s being paid by some religious nuts avenge the destruction of Jerusalem. Now that she thinks she’s killed Rail Blade, she’s coming back to kill you and your mother. I don’t agree with the decision but Amelia let her go. She says that once the chimp tells everyone we’re dead, we won’t have to worry about more assassination attempts. As far as the chimp killing you or your mother, Amelia says she’s confident you can take care of this. I mean, you’ve fought Baby Gun. A chimp shouldn’t be a problem now that she won’t have the element of surprise.”
“Why would Chimpion want to kill mother?” asked Sarah. “She had nothing to do with Jerusalem.”
“You’re probably just as confused as I am about why your mother’s a target, since she had nothing to do with Jerusalem. I think they just want every Knowbokov dead. Which, of course, they’ve already blown, since Amelia’s fine and they don’t even know about our daughters.”
“Shit,” said Sarah, looking at the time. Chimpion would already be back at the island. Would she continue to play the double agent, or go straight for her mother?
“If I know you, you’re already racing to your mother’s side and you don’t need me distracting you. Since the time lag makes phone calls sort of a chore, I’m going to drop you an email with more about our lives here on Mars. I’ll expect back an email soon telling how you kicked a super-chimp’s ass and saved the day. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, as the call went dead.
Richard was wrong about one thing. She sure as hell wasn’t going to waste time flying to her mother’s side when one phone call could take her there via space machine. She opened a channel and said, “Katya? Nathan? Whoever’s on duty, I need a lift back to HQ, ASAP.”
No one answered.
“Guys,” she said. “Who’s on duty tonight? I need to return to HQ. Copy?”
No answer.
“Hello?” she asked.
Nothing but silence. Could Chimpion have already killed everyone? Or, just as likely, with her demonstrated knowledge of the Knowobokov Foundation computers, could she have somehow rigged the coms to block any calls Sarah might try to make? Sarah clenched her fists and looked toward the east. Time to find out just how fast she could really go.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Heart of Wrath
Clint was lost in thought, barely paying attention to Sister Amy’s words, when Brother Dunlap walked up to them and asked, “Sister, may I speak with you in private? I’ll only need a few seconds.”
“Of course,” she said. “Clint, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
Clint watched as they moved away, stepping into the next room. App had called him Christian Superman, but at this moment he really wished he had x-ray vision and superhearing. He hadn’t brought up the question he had about her knowing that the team had gone to Mars.
He looked at his wrist. The smart fibers of his costume knew his intent and flashed the time. Maybe the team was back by now. “Call the base,” he said.
He waited. He frowned when ten seconds had passed and he hadn’t been patched through. He started to attempt the call again, but Sister Amy had walked back into the room. She always smiled, always looked happy, but at this moment she was positively glowing, beaming with unbridled joy.
“Brother Clint!” she exclaimed. “It’s here! The calf is here!”
“Calf?”
“The red calf born without flaw or blemish. Leviticus tells us that this is the sacrifice that will sanctify the temple. We’re ready to make our move! What a glorious moment to be alive!”
“I… I don’t think I can help you,” said Clint.
“I understand it’s asking a lot,” said Sister Amy. “And I know this seems sudden. I apologize for not including you in the full plan before now.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Your work brings you into contact with super humans on a daily basis. What if you encountered a telepath? It was safer that you didn’t know.”
He frowned. Was this her real reason? Or was it because she knew of his past as a supervillain? Even if she would never say it, he knew his past was difficult to overlook. If he was in her shoes, would he trust himself with such a huge secret? As his thoughts traveled down a path of self-doubt, they suddenly collided with a more monstrous possibility. She hadn’t told him because what she wanted to do was extremely dangerous. Moving the temple could only lead to war.
She placed her hand on his arm, smiling gently. “You’ve dedicated your life to this project. Certainly, you can see the need to proceed to the next step.”
“I thought that building New Jerusalem was the next step,” he said. He shook his head. “I can’t help you. First, no one at the Knowbokov Foundation is going to use the space machine to move an entire city. If you were hoping I’d do it for you, sorry, but I have no idea how to operate the machine.”
“We don’t need your technological expertise,” said Sister Amy. “You have many talents, Clint. You’re a modern day Sampson. The lord gave you the heart and soul of a warrior.”
“And it’s warriors you’ll need if you attempt to move this temple to Jerusalem,” said Clint. “The wars in Syria, Jordan, and Egypt are being fought by radicalized armies equipped with deadly chemical weapons. Power players in the area, like Saudi Arabia and Iran, deny having nukes but everyone knows that they do. Move this temple and it won’t be some tiny border conflict. You’ll trigger—”
“Armageddon,” said Sister Amy. “I know. It’s part of God’s grand plan.”
“Nuclear holocaust is hardly what I’d think of as the plan of a loving and merciful savior,” said Clint.
Sister Amy looked at him with sad eyes. “You’ve been neglecting your reading, Brother. The book I wrote on Revelation…
did you study it?”
He shook his head. “I’m… not that great at reading. I’m not completely illiterate, but I’ve never made it through the end of a newspaper article, let alone a whole book.”
“I suspected as much,” said Sister Amy. “I wish you’d confided in me sooner. The book is available in audio format.”
“I’ve listened,” said Clint. “Honestly, it’s hard to follow. All the talk about prophecy goes over my head.”
“But you seem so fervent in your dedication to building New Jerusalem.”
“I am,” he said. “I’ve always been a man of action. I like to get my hands dirty. Building a city in the middle of a desert, it’s a challenge. A mission. It catches my imagination.”
“Then make use of that imagination,” said Sister Amy. “We aren’t just building a New Jerusalem. We’re making a whole new world, a world of love and peace and obedience to God. For that world to be born, the old world must pass. There must be Armageddon. It’s spelled out in full detail in Revelation. A quarter of the world’s people must perish in the terrible war that proceeds the final trumpet.”
“You’re talking over a billion people.”
“Oh, far more than that. According to prophecy, when the trumpet of the Lord sounds, the angels will sweep down from heaven and kill half of the people in the world. Of course, this is open to some interpretation.”
“I would hope so,” said Clint.
“It may not be angels that cleanse the world with flame. It is far more likely that ICBMs will do the job. If they’re all fired at once, the prophecy will be fulfilled.”
“There must be some mistake,” said Clint.
“Perhaps,” said Sister Amy. “The Bible says that no man may know the hour or the day. Perhaps we’ll move the temple and the Lord will return at once. Perhaps we shall move it and war, famine, pestilence and death will reign upon the world for a thousand years. It’s not for us to know the precise timeline. We must trust in the Lord that his plan is just and wise.”
“You’ve always taught me that God was merciful,” said Clint. “You’ve said he was loving, capable of grace. You’ve told me that even someone whose sins are as great as my own may be welcomed into the kingdom of Heaven. Now you ask me to believe he requires the slaughter of half the world’s population?”
“Brother,” said Sister Amy. “It’s not half the word he slaughters if we fail to act. It’s everyone living today. Everyone ever born faces death to atone for our original sin. There is forgiveness, yes, but that’s to be part of our eternal life. In our mortal shells, until the Lord returns, we all must perish. Whether it be quietly in a bed or in a nuclear inferno, what does it matter? The price is the same. It’s our blood. It must be paid.”
Clint had no argument for this. Of course, everyone would die. Of course, the true reward would come in Heaven. But… but…
“I… I can’t help you,” he said, softly.
“Are you certain?”
“I am,” he said. “I don’t know. Perhaps… perhaps you’re right. But you’ve always told me to listen to my heart. I can’t take part in a plan that will cause the deaths of so many.”
“Your heart?” she scoffed. “Now there’s mercy in your heart? Now, when the Lord needs your wrath?”
“You’re the one who showed me His mercy,” said Clint.
“He’s the one who placed the wrath within you,” she said, her voice rising. “Think back, Brother. Think of the first emotion you ever felt. Was it happiness? Was it love? You told me that, before Rail Blade sealed you in that cube, you’d never known a single day of your life where you didn’t wake up angry.”
“Yes,” he said. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve carried a burden of rage. It made me a murderer at an age when other children are still watching cartoons in their pajamas. It made me a monster. God’s grace made me a man.”
“You’ve always been a man,” said Sister Amy. “The Bible is full of holy men who used wrath to do the Lord’s work. Sampson slew the Philistines. The Israelites conquered their neighbors and salted the earth so that nothing could ever grow again. The Angel of the Lord slaughtered the first born of Egypt, killing children in their cradles. You’re going to stand there and tell me that you’d turn your back on the Lord? He’s given you a heart of wrath. Embrace this. Become his archangel, and lead the armies of the righteous into final battle.”
Her face was alight with some inner fire. She believed. She believed every word she said. Her eyes were the eyes of God himself, judging him for his weakness. Clint turned away, trembling, the old demons clawing at the cage doors of the far corners of his mind where he’d imprisoned them. He’d said he’d never felt happiness, never felt love, before he found salvation. It wasn’t true. When he was Ogre, he’d felt completely alive, perfectly joyous, whenever he’d been standing amid a circle of corpses, covered in the blood of men he’d just killed.
No. Not men. The gang wars were fought mostly by teens. Young teens. Children. He’d twisted the necks of children and tossed their limp bodies away like broken toys. Smiling. Laughing. Happy.
“No,” he said.
“No,” asked Sister Amy.
“I can’t help you,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t let those demons out again.” He turned to her. “And I can’t let you do this.”
“I don’t see how you can stop me.”
“I’m a fully authorized officer of the law,” he said.
“What law, exactly, have I broken?”
He furrowed his brow, uncertain how to answer. It didn’t matter. “I’ll leave that for others to judge. Once the courts have hold of you and all this hits the press, I don’t think your New Jerusalem will remain standing for very long.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Brother, we didn’t recruit you for your brains. I forgive you for being so dense. This will happen with or without you. Now that you know what you know, we can’t let you tell anyone else.”
“I can’t even imagine how you think you’re going to stop me.”
“I have friends in high places,” she said, with a sly grin. She snapped her fingers.
Clint saw a shadow on the dust behind her, a shadow that grew larger, as if something were dropping down from the heavens. He looked up and saw a man as large as himself, dressed completely in black. The man landed behind Sister Amy in a crouch. Sister Amy stepped aside, revealing the face of the man who’d dropped from the sky.
Clint gasped as the man rose to face him.
The man had his face. His old face. He was face to face with Ogre.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Between the Pillars
“Who are you?” Servant asked, completely befuddled, as he studied the dark mirror before him.
“I’m you,” said Ogre, his voice hard and bitter. “The monster you tried to deny.”
“I’m losing my mind,” mumbled Servant.
“You’ll lose your head as well,” said Ogre, his form blurring as he charged, delivering a two-fisted uppercut to Servant’s chin.
The world went dark. Not because the blow had hurt Servant, but because his shields had responded to the explosive burst of kinetic energy the same way they would have reacted to a bomb. At maximum strength, his force fields blocked out even benign wavelengths of light as they strengthened to shield him from heat and radiation. When his shields calmed, he found himself high in the air, looking down on New Jerusalem.
As he reached the apex of his flight, he folded his arms to his side and dove, twisting his body to steer toward a crash landing on the temple. They couldn’t transport the structure if he tore it to splinters first. He was still a quarter mile in the air when a black streak raced toward him. He spun toward his attacker as Ogre slammed into him, driving his shoulder into Servant’s gut. Again, his shields darkened. Whoever this was, he seemed as strong as Servant. When his vision cleared again, the momentum of the blow had carried them far away from the temple, out past the ring of RVs surrounding New Jerusalem.
Servant slammed into the desert, dirt flying as he gouged out an impact crater. He had difficulty telling up from down for a few seconds amid the dust. He found his footing just in time to be kneed in the groin by the dark form that came out of the haze.
“Stop this!” Servant growled, reaching out blindly to grab his attacker by the throat. His attacker mirrored the move, and as the dust settled he found himself grappling with his demonic double, locked together like a pair of immovable sumo wrestlers. “Our fight is pointless,” Servant growled. “You can’t hurt me.”
“Nor can you hurt me,” Ogre said through clenched teeth. “We’re destined to wrestle one another until Judgment Day.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I believe!” said Ogre. “I won’t allow you to halt the blessed Armageddon.”
“You’re condemning billions to death!” said Servant.
“Not I,” said Ogre. “This is the will of God. Who are you to say no?”
“I,” Servant shouted, “am a member of the Covenant! I’m sworn to protect mankind. You are in my way.”
He followed his words by changing tactics. Instead of pushing against Ogre, meeting force with force, he fell back, dropping to his butt, kicking his feet up to catch Ogre as he fell, launching him into a long arc across the sky.
In some ways, his speed was the opposite of Sarah’s. On the ground, she was no faster than an ordinary person, but in the sky, she could move at supersonic speeds. Servant’s strength let him race across the earth at nearly the speed of sound, but in the air he dropped at the same rate as any other body, a mere 32 feet per second per second. He had ten, maybe fifteen seconds before Ogre touched down. He raced from the crater, heading for the temple, determined to pull it apart in the seconds he had left. A hundred yards from the temple, while Ogre was still in the air, a second Ogre appeared in his path, then a third, then a fourth. He tried to evade them, but their speed was a perfect match of his own. They pounced upon him, knocking him backward. As he lost his footing, they were joined by the original Ogre who’d hit the ground a fraction of a second before. He struggled, but each of the four Ogres had grabbed him by a limb. Together they raced him back out into the desert, throwing him back into the crater carved by his original impact.
