The Sin of Moloch

by Andrew Gordinier

  “I don’t know if it will change anything. But, the past is a prologue to the present and tied to the future.”

  “I’ve never heard of a history book stopping a war.”

  “There is a first time for everything.”

  “I don’t buy it, though. There has to be more to this than history.” It was as if there was something ever so slightly different about Finley from before. It was frustrating, and John couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “John. I’m hurt.” Finley leaned back in his chair and held his hands up in mock dismay. “I know I come on strong, but really, why would I lie to you?”

  “Gee, I wonder.”

  A silence thick as smoke washed over the table. Finley stared at John and John stared back. Both refused to look away. The moment had a quiet quality to it that could have been stolen from any number of old westerns, that Finley broke with laughter. “Fine, you stubborn asshole! I’ll tell you the scary part.”

  “The scary part?”

  “Yes, the scary bit is; I don’t think the library is here.”

  “Here? As in the US?”

  “No, here as in on the planet.”

  “Stop making-“

  “No, hear me out!” Finley held up a hand.

  “Go ahead, try selling this one.”

  “I’ve been collecting artifacts from all over the world, and I think that all this ‘ancient alien’ bollocks is really about ancient mages. I recently found a gold trinket in South America that looks like a plane, there have been others like it found before. But buried with it was a stone tablet with a carving that perfectly matches a map of the solar system, including Pluto.”

  “More tablets and codes?”

  “Not at all. Because in this carving, Mars was circled several times, with lines between it and the Earth.”

  “So you think that Martians came to Earth thousands of years ago and taught primitive humans magic?”

  “I don’t know what to think, but ask yourself something. According to legends, when Moloch fled humanity and the Earth, he robbed the great libraries first. Why?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Sure, John. Keep silent, so you look like you know whats going on, a clever ploy!”

  “Finley! Just talk, goddamn it.”

  “He was gathering the clues, he was figuring out where to go.”

  “You think he went to Mars and fought aliens, then came back here and called them demons?”

  “No, I think the final key to the puzzle is on Mars. I really think that the answer to what Moloch found is somewhere in the constellation of Orion.”

  “You want to go wandering around in deep space, committing the one act that is unforgivable among mages-“

  “The dreaded sin of Moloch.” Finley smiled and sipped his tea.

  “You want to do this while every mage on the planet is taking sides, and sending censors out to kill.”

  “When you put it that way, it seems like the perfect time to go somewhere on holiday.”

  John glared at Finley. It wasn’t his pattern that was upsetting John, it was the pattern of the dust on his coat that troubled him, it wasn’t like anything he had seen before. “You really think that-“

  “John, listen. All over the world, there are myths and legends, odd artifacts, and strange manuscripts. They all point to human origins being in deep space, some of them are very specific about where. If I could prove any small part of this, it would be earth-shattering.”

  “Have you seen a Primer? Held one.”

  “No.”

  “There is a warning in it-“

  “I’ve heard of it, read descriptions of it.”

  “-that the dangers Moloch found will eventually come here. That they will burn this world, and that our only hope lies in magic and being prepared.”

  “If we know what is out there and where this all comes from, we will be informed and prepared.”

  “What if you end up showing… these aliens, where we are.”

  “You can say ‘aliens’ John. The world won’t come to an end.”

  “Finley, I’m not giving you my Primer. Besides the fact that there is too much danger here, you want to go looking for more danger.”

  “Is that really why?”

  “Yeah, and one other thing.” John paused and pulled his wallet out. “People have been using this power for evil and selfish purposes as long as we’ve had it. What makes you think that going to where this limitless power was created seems like a good idea? What makes you think you’re going to find something kinder and wiser out there?” John felt like a hypocrite saying it, but it was one thing to do pure research and another to go looking. Wasn’t it?

  “I’m an optimist, not all mages are evil. Well, statistically speaking, there should be a nice one out there somewhere.”

  “We’re almost all killers, I’ve killed-” John had to look away when he said it.

  “So have I, in self-defense, like you.”

  “Still, how does that not make us evil?”

  Finley was silent for a moment. “That argument is a moral rabbit hole I don’t want to venture down because I think we will never agree. But in a related matter, I need your Primer, and neither of us wants to do this the hard way. Like you said before, we’re both scary mages, there is no need to prove anything.”

  “So, don’t. Go find someone else who has a primer and leave me alone.” John stood up and dropped a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Tea is on me.” It was a dramatic exit, and John enjoyed it.

  John teleported into the warehouse. He walked to a spot on the floor and used a pattern to push aside the concert of the floor. He had learned so many things from Owen. John reached into the hole and opened the small safe hidden inside, withdrawing the Primer, and it’s key. In a world where it was possible to open or destroy anything, the only way to keep something safe was to hide it and hide it well.

  Turning the primer over in his hands and running his fingers along the etched lines of its surface, John contemplated his discussion with Finley. Was he stupid and selfish in keeping the Primer to himself? Or was he playing it safe? The lines on the primer eventually all crossed or touched each other, John had never been able to decide if they were just artwork or a hidden message. It was addictive to see hidden messages and meanings in everything, no wonder there were so many conspiracy theories on the internet.

  Giving the Primer to Finley would sow doubt with Conrad and the developing mage society, to say nothing of how Augie would respond to it being put back into circulation. How would that affect the threat of the censors and the European conclave? John was used to looking at the physical world and seeing the influence that stretched out too far and distant corners, sometimes to places he couldn’t always detect or understand. Now he was trying to navigate a political web, and he didn’t enjoy it, mostly because it was once again about power. Everyone wanted power, and yet so few of these people wanted to do anything different with it. Conrad wanted to change things for the better, but there would eventually be elections, and he might not end up being in charge.

  Beyond that, Finley was talking about breaking the most feared taboo among mages. Going to Mars, then to deep space, searching for answers that probably wouldn’t change anything. John thought of the message in the Primers; “they would bring this world to flames.” Who would? Aliens? Why? Wasn’t it possible that if humans evolved to be able to interact with patterns that there were others out there? John tried to imagine alien mages and found himself picturing a universe where mages governed peacefully without destruction or war. John came to the conclusion that he wasn’t very good at science fiction and put the Primer back in the safe, sealing it again before stepping away.

  John had known that keeping the Primer meant more trouble. He couldn’t give it away, and he couldn’t keep it, because everyone wanted it. Perhaps when things with the Censors were settled, John could make a choice of what to do with it. Till then, it would have to stay under lock and key. He loo
ked around at the warehouse, not precisely a fortress of solitude, but it was gonna have to do for the moment. Was there something more he could do to secure it?

  John’s thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone ringing, it was Conrad’s number.

  “Conrad?”

  “John, we have some trouble.”

  “What happened?”

  “The European emissary showed up early to talk to me in private, they feel I am the de facto leader of the ‘revolution’ as they are calling it.”

  “I suppose they aren’t wrong, I mean we haven’t had an election yet, but-“

  “I don’t want it, John. I’m old and tired.”

  “Conrad, who else do you trust to get it done the right way?”

  “A good point, but a sad commentary on the state of our world.” Conrad paused for a moment. “The emissary wants to be present at the next meeting, he wants to talk to everyone, to present his case for keeping with traditions.”

  “Is it a trap?”

  “I don’t see how, even if he brought a Censor with him, they would be vastly outnumbered. Even with magic, there is only so much that can be done with twenty to one odds. No, I think this is his last stab at diplomacy. He wants to shake the tree and see if he can get a few defectors or traitors to weaken us, put a little fear into the weaker mages. They will make their real move soon after that.”

  “So it’s a delay, to see who panics while they get ready.” John was slowly learning, but not as fast as he would have liked.

  “I think they are ready. I think there is something else.”

  “What else could they be interested in?”

  “A lot of people have been asking around about this Finley character that’s bothering you.”

  “He’s crazy, and he’s a pain the ass. Not a threat to us, or them.”

  “Are you sure?” John was suddenly sure that Conrad knew something and was either testing him or prodding him in some direction.

  “I’ve made too many mistakes to be sure of anything.”

  “Rumor has it he is getting ready to commit the sin of Moloch. That he has stolen items from a lot of powerful mages.”

  “The last time he talked to me, he tried to convince me to give him the Primer. He thinks there is something hidden it, something that will lead him to some library off-world. The whole thing sounds like something out an episode of ‘Ancient Aliens’-“

  “John, hide your Primer. If they accuse us of helping him go off-world, it will be another complication.”

  “I’m doing my best. Can we hand Finley over to them? A peace offering of sorts?” John felt uncomfortable with the idea but saw it as an easy way out.

  “No, that wouldn’t even buy us time. Besides, it would send the wrong message to our own people. They would see us as caving to demands and threats, selling out a rogue element not that different from themselves. It would sow the seeds of doubt.”

  “So, what do we do?” John felt like his frustration creeping into his voice.

  “I don’t like it, but we are going to have to stay the course and be ready to act quickly.”

  “How long till the vote?”

  “A week at the most, till then, we wait, and we watch.” John didn’t like it, there was too much time for too much to happen, and there was nothing he could do. What was it Doctor Gaston had asked him? Did he ever feel powerless? It was an almost laughable question now.

  Chapter 14

  “So what if Finley thinks there were aliens teaching people magic?” Radha stabbed into her salad with a fork and examined the impaled vegetables before continuing. “You’re a mage, magic is real if that is possible why not aliens and all of that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you just have to draw the line somewhere and decide what is too far out there and what isn’t.” John's sandwich had already gone cold, and he resisted the urge to use magic to discretely warm it up.

  “Closed-minded or skeptical?”

  “Am I close-minded?”

  Radha searched John’s face and saw that he wasn't defensive but sincere. “I think at times you are too cautious and others you are wildly reckless, especially when you get upset.”

  “Learning magic and everything that happened pushed me to my limits. I thought I was gonna lose it at times.” John gave up on his sandwich and looked at it closely, examining the pattern of it, he wished he didn’t have to see it. He just wanted to see the world as he had grown up seeing it.

  “I know, John.” Radha reached across the table and took hold of his hand. “I’m just worried.”

  “Even if he is right, I can’t go off chasing legends and myths right now. Things are getting complicated with the Censors and the Emissary from Europe. Conrad and Eric need me here.”

  “How do you think everyone is going to react?”

  “I don’t know. There aren’t too many stragglers, and the Emissary wants to give a speech before the final vote. It’s the Censors that have everyone scared.”

  “Why?”

  “They are judge, jury, and executioner. They are overpowered, even compared to other mages. And, history has proven they don’t mind cleaning house to keep the order.”

  “It’s that bad?”

  “We’re not sure yet.” John paused and looked off into the middle distance for a moment. “How are things at your internship?”

  “Very boring compared to your life.” Radha said with a smile.

  “I’m starting to think I like boring.”

  After lunch, John had some time to kill before class, so he wandered to the computer lab and found Deanna sitting with her eyes locked intently on a monitor. John stood in front of her for a few moments, she said nothing, he cleared his throat to get her attention.

  “Yeah, I saw you come in on the security cameras.” Her tone was flat.

  “I’ve been busy, but I wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

  “Great, fine, dandy even.”

  “I mean with our-“

  “With our little project?”

  “Yeah.” John put his hands in his coat pockets and wondered what was going to happen this time.

  “That is going amazing. Since the damn thing is spitting out bits of superstring theory, I’ve been stealing parts of the physics formulas and making serious progress. But, for some reason, it’s still crashing after only a few moments.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to read a book on physics so I can understand where this is all going better, it’s making my head crash. The fabric of the Cosmos, by-“

  “I fraking love that book! If I ever meet Brian Greene, I am going to date rape him and make him marry me. Then we will raise genetically engineered children to be evil geniuses bent on world domination in the name of their beloved parents.”

  “You might need to cut back on the coffee.” John wondered not for the first time what was wrong with Deanna.

  “No. What I need to do is add some graphics to this program. So I can see what is going on better, but I’m forbidden to do that.”

  “You have to trust me on that one.”

  “You mean like I trusted you that there was nothing big about this, and then you told me that the FBI was funding your little project.”

  “They aren’t funding it, they don’t know about it, they aren’t even supporting me-“

  “Sure, John. Just remember that you can’t be mysterious and not piss people off.”

  “Just for your own safety, don’t try mapping it in a graphics program.”

  “Why? Is it going to alert the agents that I’ve discovered the truth about the Matrix? Or will it summon the dark lord Cthulhu?” Deanna looked up at him for the first time in the conversation.

  “No. It will drive you insane, and very pissed off, people will have to hunt you down and kill you. Then they will hunt and kill me.”

  “Damn, John. Do you ever think about acting? You’ve got that dramatic delivery routine going for you.”

  “Deanna-”

  “I p
romise no graphics.” If John had been paying very close attention, he would have spotted a flicker of a smile dance across her face.

  Walking home that night, Deanna thought about John and wondered what the hell he was really up to. She was pretty sure that the software she was working on for him was some sort of secret agent decryption algorithm. She imagined something out of a lame Mission Impossible plot or even some lame TV show, but she really didn’t care. Now that John was paying her, he could do whatever he wanted with the program, there was just one thing John couldn’t do; tell her not to do something.

  Unlocking her small apartment and stepping inside, Deanna wasted no time locking the door, stripping out of her winter coat and extra layers. She pulled on a t-shirt and pair of sweat pants and promptly collapsed into her computer chair. She punched the power buttons to her beloved computers and searched for a can of pop while they booted up. The monitors flared to life, she found a warm can of root beer, and her computer sang out, “Welcome to the machine…”

  John could tell her whatever he wanted. What she would do was another issue, and he had no say in it. He should have figured that out by now. If not, too bad. Deanna opened several windows and started transferring the mysterious program from her flash drive to her desktop. She had been working on a graphical interface for the damn thing from the start without telling John. It was one thing to look at text and number sets to see something; it was another to look at it in glorious 4k on a 32-inch monitor. It didn’t mean anything that it would be a two-dimensional reconstruction that approximated an 11 dimensional object if anything that made it more fun.

  She had tried running it several times, but the math itself didn’t work well enough to generate anything other than visual noise. There had been brief moments where she thought it might work and show her something amazing. Only to be disappointed by some new and frustrating error message. The addition of the borrowed, some would say stolen, formulas for M Theory had evolved the math and the coding by leaps and bounds. So Deanna was more than hopeful. She was convinced that this time when she compiled the new code and ran it, she would see something amazing. She clicked the icon and sat back, waiting, afraid that if she blinked, she would miss something.