by Josh Leone
“Indeed it will. But you must rest now and let your mind and body fully integrate. When you have mastered your new body I will have a task for you.”
“Anything, my master.”
“In ancient times, to summon a god, sacrifices of blood were made. It seems only appropriate that my ascension to godhood should be heralded in the same manner. You will kill one of the false prophets, one of those fools who name themselves Callers. I gave Teresk a chance to join my church. She refused. Now she will make a worthy sacrifice and test for you.”
“I live to serve you, my master,” said Franks.
“I know you do, but call me ‘master’ no longer. I am your Lord God.”
“Yes, my Lord. I pray for your blessing.”
Vashek placed his hand upon Franks’ head in benediction. “You have it, my son, my treasure, my high priest.”
Franks closed his eyes, “Amen.”
As he watched Vashek leave Franks noticed a stinging pain in his left thigh. It was gone almost as quickly as it had come and he dismissed it as just another sensation among thousands.
◊
Sha felt compelled to move. He rose from where he lay with his head in Pietra’s lap and walked toward the pond. The water had become cloudy and Sha found that somehow unnerving. The compulsion moved him into the water. Sha looked for Pietra upon the shore but she was gone.
He knew that she’d never really been there to begin with but it had felt real and he missed her. It slowly filtered back into his mind that none of this was actually real. It was all a just a construct, a way for his mind to interact with this non-place.
As he moved deeper into the water he saw his thought-body begin to dissolve, becoming one with the phantom water. There was no pain, only a sense of numbness as his imaginary nerves ceased to exist. Then he was somewhere else, a place he recognized. No, not a ‘place’ exactly. It was more a state of being. He was in the Calling Tower matrix. Sha was conscious of others presences in the tower.
‘You are home, Szoveda Sha.’
‘Why? What can I do from here?”
‘You can atone.’
‘For what?” Sha asked. “I’ve lived my entire life in service to the Holy Mother Earth, to you!’
‘No, you have lived a life in service to the cause of prejudice and hate. You have killed thousands for no other reason than that they were not my children.’
‘But, I made way for your children. I offered countless souls the chance to be reborn as one of your children.’
‘ARROGANCE!’ Sha felt the thought upon his non-form as clearly as he would have a hurricane upon his flesh. ‘I love my children but humanity is only one a part of the life-force of the universe. You murdered in my name and called it faith.’
‘It is what I was taught, what all of humanity is taught.’ Sha heard his thought-voice, heard himself begging to be understood. He knew though that what he was really begging for was forgiveness.
‘My child,’ She said, no longer shouting at him, releasing him from the storm of her outrage. ‘I gave you a mind with which to think, yet you have chosen not to use it.’
‘But,’ Sha said, his thought-voice a mere whisper. ‘It is the way of things.’
‘It is only the way of things until it is not. Change requires a single voice, a single act, to begin.’
Sha knew what he heard was truth. He’d spent most of his life avoiding thinking about his missions too much. But he’d known all along that it was wrong. The Primacy was built upon the ashes of billions of alien corpses. His legacy was one of blood and death.
“I will not fail. I will do what I must to stop Vashek.’
‘That is all I ask of you, my child.’
Sha felt a familiar pull on his consciousness. It was what he’d felt every time he’d returned to a new body. Usually when he returned there was a moment of painful ‘impact.’ But not this time and soon Sha knew why. Though he was in a body he was not in control of it. He could see, hear, and feel everything the body saw, heard, and felt, yet he could not raise his arms or turn his head or even blink his eyes. He was a passenger, not a pilot.
“Welcome back, my son.” Sha knew that voice.
Vashek’s face hovered over him, smiling like an owner whose pet had just won an award. Sha wanted nothing more than to reach up to that smiling face and crush it in his hands. But he was impotent to act. Strangely, the body he was in felt intensely familiar.
It didn’t take long for Sha to figure out what had happened to him. The body he was in felt familiar because it was his own body, or at least so close as to make little difference. His horror grew as he realized who it was that was actually in control of the body. There was only one being Vashek would have spoken to like this – Woodard Franks.
Sha listened as Vashek spoke of ancient times, blood sacrifices, and the summoning of gods. If Sha had had any doubt that Vashek was thoroughly insane, they were completely dispelled by the Caller’s ranting declaration that Caller Teresk had to die. There had to be something, anything, he could do. Why would the Holy Mother send him back only to make him watch helplessly as Vashek carried out his schemes?
Sha tapped into his training from before he’d first returned. Much of what a potential Honored Returned was taught concerned a phenomenon known as the ‘Mind/Body Link.’ This was a general term for the advanced familiarity a Returned had with his or her own body. It was based on the idea that the mind could, if properly trained, control a body to a far deeper level than what was experienced by most sentient beings.
A student in the corps PoPros spent years, first learning to control voluntary body processes, and then learning to command so-called ‘involuntary’ processes. By the time potentials were ready for their first Returning they could already control their base-line body to a far greater degree than the average human. After the first Returning these skills translated into almost total control of all aspects of the Returned’s new body.
Sha bent his entire will to a single, small task. He focused on just one sensation, one single nerve cluster. It was the hardest thing Sha had ever done and when he finally succeeded he felt more drained than he’d ever felt after even his most strenuous battle. But he had succeeded. He had proven that he could act on the body he was in.
When he felt the stinging twinge in ‘his’ thigh, and felt Franks reach down to massage the area, Sha was so elated that he echoed Franks’ final word.
‘Amen.’
◊
Iyanna was eager to dock but she took it slow. Seth had left her at the helm and, though she was a skilled pilot, the Enduring Journey was a far different ship than her old one. It was strange thinking of the Gathering Storm as her ‘old’ ship. She’d been so devastated when she’d lost it, yet now she thought of the Journey as her home. How long had it been? Just a matter of weeks, yet she couldn’t imagine not being part of the Journey’s crew.
She was eager to see Jonah again. Iyanna had had lovers but nothing like what she felt for Jonah. The thought of their one night together had filled her dreams. She docked smoothly with Tranquility, letting the station’s computer handle the final few meters. Bots scrambled out of hidden ports and began the process of repairing every scratch and dent on the ship’s hull. Iyanna left clear orders for no internal repair. Best not to have strange bots wandering around inside the Journey’s access tunnels at the moment.
Seth and Iyanna left the ship and sent a signal to Jonah that they had arrived. The Returned met them in the waiting area of the docking ring. Seth stood aside while Iyanna ran to Jonah and he scooped her up like she weighed next to nothing which, given Jonah’s strength, was close to true. Seth tried to put his eyes on anything other than the two young lovers as they lost themselves in their reunion.
When Iyanna and Jonah finally broke their embrace Seth stuck out his hand to the young man. “Good to see you again, kid.”
“You too, Seth.”
Jonah noticed the absence of the other member of the crew and asked after
him. Seth told him what had happened to Vig, about the Z-Chip. Jonah’s response made Seth more certain of his choice to side with the young man.
“Damn them!” Jonah said in outrage, drawing a few glances from the people around them. “They can’t even keep their promises!”
“Let’s take this somewhere more private,” Iyanna suggested.
“Good idea,” Seth said.
The trio boarded the Journey, figuring it was likely the safest place to talk. Jonah felt good to be back aboard the cargo ship. Seth raised the dining table and chairs from the floor and took a seat with the others.
“I’m sorry about Jason,” Jonah said. “I should have guessed Vashek would have something in place. He’s insane but he’s terribly intelligent, always having plans within plans.”
“Don’t sweat it, kid,” Seth said. “I didn’t see it coming either.”
“How can we stop someone like Vashek?” Iyanna asked. “It’s like he’s always two steps ahead.”
“Tell me again,” asked Seth, “why you gave him the Pash artifact?”
“It was the only way to keep track of his plan. Denying him the Olim-Ojim may have delayed him but he would have found another way, one we would have had no handle on.”
“Okay,” Seth said. “But how do we find him? The universe is a pretty big place, kid. Lots of places for someone with Vashek’s resources to hide.”
“True,” Jonah replied. “But we may have a way.
“Explain.”
“The Pash Spirit Walker I told you about. He is with me.”
“With you how?” Seth asked but then thought better of it. “No, never mind. I don’t want to hear any more about that sort of stuff than I have to. You say he’s with you, I believe you. Go on.”
“Thank you for your faith, Seth. It means a great deal to me.”
“Don’t read too much into it, kid. The less I have to hear about spirits and souls and such, the better. I’m having enough trouble wrapping my head around the idea of Vashek becoming pure energy.”
“Fair enough,” Jonah said, chuckling a bit before continuing. “All humans, with the proper instruction and practice, can feel Earth’s Calling Tower. I can tell you exactly in which direction that tower lies. I could navigate by it if the need arose.
“Spirit Walker is connected to the Olim-Ojim as I am connected to our tower. What that means is that he can point a straight line toward where the Olim-Ojim is right now.”
“Okay,” Seth said. “That’s still a lot of space to search.”
“We know Vashek will need a structure of some kind, a place to build his machine around the Olim-Ojim.”
“Look, kid,” Seth said. “I want Vashek as much as you do. He’s got some payback coming for turning Vig into his personal puppet. But you’re talking about a data search that would take a dozen people a year or more to burn through. It’s a needle in a stack of needles. We just don’t have the resources.”
“No, we don’t,” said Jonah. “Fortunately, we are not the only ones who want to stop Vashek.”
Jonah told them about Caller Teresk who had promised to engage every resource at her disposal to find the location of Vashek’s machine.
“She got out before she was locked down, though only just barely.”
“If she’s no longer a Caller," Iyanna asked. “How can she help?”
“Credits and contacts,” replied Jonah. “Her mentor taught her to plan ahead. She has hundreds of millions of credits in accounts secreted all over the Primacy. She also has a network of informants almost rivaling Vashek’s. She’s going to burn it all to find Vashek’s base.”
“Nice friend to have,” said Seth. “So, what do we do in the meantime?”
“Teresk is on the run. It will never become public knowledge if the Council can help it but they have agents looking for her. She needs a ride.”
“Sounds like a bad joke,” Seth said. “Two freelancers, a Returned, and a Caller walk into a bar…” Iyanna laughed, as did Jonah, both grateful for the break in tension.
“You know, kid, even if we get away with this there’s no way the Council is going to just let us go. They can’t. They’d have to be sure we don’t talk.
“Iyanna, Vig, and I will be put on the lists at the least. You’ll probably be locked up somewhere and your Caller friend will be lucky if she doesn’t get the same.”
“I know,” Jonah said. “I have to do this, so does Teresk. But you don’t - none of you. You, Iyanna, and Jason can just take off, get far away from it. I won’t blame you, any of you.” Jonah looked at Iyanna as he said the last.
“Really?” asked Seth. “In that case, sorry but you’re on your own.”
Iyanna stood up with Seth and said, “Sorry, Jonah. Just can’t do it. Good luck, though.”
The two started to walk away, then stopped and looked back at where Jonah sat with a look of shock on his face. Neither Iyanna nor Seth could keep a straight face at the sight of the young man, sitting with his mouth open, no words coming out. They both broke up into belly laughs, coming back to the table.
“You are too easy, Jonah,” Iyanna said between gasping laughs.
“Seriously, kid,” Seth said as he wiped a tear from his eye. “Way too easy.”
Jonah realized what was happening and began laughing at his own foolishness. Of course these people would not abandon him. How could he have even thought such a thing?
“Perhaps so,” he said. “Perhaps so.”
Chapter 10
The tower rose and all felt Her love. Some few whose minds were open made the pilgrimage to the source, learned Her will, and called to others.
-Book of Gifts (1-1)
Oscali had had a bad feeling all day. It wasn’t based on anything solid, unless one considered that pretty much everything he’d held dear in his life was now at risk. It was more than that. It was something specific, though he couldn’t say what. Sarthol had once told him that he had the barest hint of advanced intuition, what people used to call E.S.P. Oscali saw no reason to doubt it. His bloodline had been chock full of medicine men and healer women since back before the Calling Tower.
Sarthol had been very open to such things and had encouraged Oscali to pay attention when his gut spoke to him. Today, his gut was shouting at him. He’d increased the security forces, both human and bots. He’d also informed Pirom of his suspicion and the house A.I. had put additional security measures in place.
Despite all of his precautions Oscali could not put aside the feeling that it would not be enough. He was correct. By the time the security alarms confirmed it, it was already too late.
Oscali linked his tech with Pirom who showed him images of dead security guards. The killer could be seen in only one of these images and what that image showed caused Oscali to gasp.
The figure invading the estate was covered from head to toe in a seamless shell of silver. Oscali instantly recognized the nano-armor of an Honored Returned. It was impossible to identify which of the elite warriors was under the armor but it hardly mattered. Oscali had been expecting an attack but the presence of a Returned could only mean that the Council had decided to eliminate Teresk quietly, without a hearing.
The silver figure advanced through the estate, laying waste to humans and bots alike. Oscali noted that the Returned had not elected to use its linkblade.
“A small mercy,” said the P.A. as he opened the door to a secret tunnel that would take him to a place where he could intercept the Returned.
The tunnel led to a large room outside Caller Teresk’s safe room. The safe room was built to withstand nearly any form of attack. Once Teresk was inside, the massive door to the room automatically locked down.
Oscali came into the room just as the intruder kicked in the outer door and entered. The Returned let its armor shrink away, revealing his face. Oscali recognized that face as belonging to Szoveda Sha, one of the most respected of the Honored Returned.
“Honored Returned,” Oscali said. “There is no need
for this violence. Please, stand down.”
“Oh, Oscali,” said the intruder. “How I wished for this.”
“Returned?” Oscali asked. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t you old, pathetic creature.”
“Honored Returned, have I done something to offend you? I don’t believe we’ve ever met in person.”
“I am not the face I wear, Oscali, servant of a false prophet. I am known to you. I come to kill you and your mistress, to remove you from the true God’s path.”
Oscali looked carefully at the intruder, at his eyes. It was there, the insanity. There was no doubt in Oscali’s mind that the man he saw before him was not, despite all evidence to the contrary, Szoveda Sha. It was, in fact, Vashek’s P.A., the man called Franks. Oscali’s gut confirmed it.
“Ah,” said Franks. “The old dog finally understands, does he?”
“How is this possible?” Oscali asked.
“Through the power of the one true God, nothing is impossible.”
Oscali didn’t waste time on additional words. His tech activated every attack protocol he had. Razor-sharp, triangular blades sprang through the flesh of his forearms. Magnetic fields strengthened his bones and chemicals flooded through his bloodstream, further enhancing his strength, speed, and reaction time. In a rush of superhuman speed, Oscali charged Franks, intent on drawing first blood.
Franks moved aside, spun to his left, and slammed a fist against Oscali’s back. The blow sent Oscali crashing into a wall hard enough to put cracks in the solid surface. Franks did not follow up; rather he just stood waiting for Oscali to recover. The older man knew he was being played with.
Oscali tried to attack Franks again, this time feinting to the right while the real attack came from the left. The blades on Oscali’s forearms missed Franks’ body by less than a centimeter, but it may as well have been a kilometer. Franks punched Oscali in the chest hard enough to push the air out his lungs, leaving the older man choking for air.
The fight went on like that, Oscali trying to land a blow while Franks moved out of the way and struck with enough force to shatter the other man’s bones in spite of their enhancements. Oscali accepted that he was going to die but he was determined to take as much of Franks with him as possible. Fortunately he had a few tricks up his sleeves. Long ago Oscali had learned there was nothing decent in battle, nothing glorious about bloodshed. Violence, when it could not be avoided, was best done as quickly and efficiently as possible.
