The Sin of Moloch

by Andrew Gordinier

  “No.” Said Shades, who watched with some disdain as people fetched equipment and started sketching on paper. “Conrad? Why do they always have to be Trekkies? I hate Trekkies.”

  Conrad could only laugh as he examined sketches that were becoming increasingly complicated.

  “This is Special Agent Christine Harris, I need to speak to him.” Christine stood in the corner, eyeing the work being done by Thomas and the others while she spoke quietly into her cell phone.

  “One moment, please.” The woman's voice was flat and mechanical, for all Christine knew she really was a robot.

  “What do you have to report?” Said the man’s deep voice.

  “They are actually gonna do it. Conrad and the others are working on a spacesuit and survival gear for John now.”

  “Good. I see someone teleported in and out of the room?”

  “Yeah, John did it to make a point with the engineers. It worked?”

  “I don’t have the reports yet, but I’m guessing we’re getting good data. The science guys are going nuts. Is he just going to Mars?”

  “I don’t think they know where he’s going.”

  “That could be bad.”

  “Why?”

  “Make sure he takes the kit with him. Tell those engineers that he HAS to take it with him.”

  “I don’t understand.” Christine said without expecting an answer.

  “If he knew what was out there, he’d ask for the kit.”

  “Yes, sir.” Christine ended the call and watched discretely as equipment was piled on the table and altered by the mages under the careful direction of the engineers.

  The implication someone in the government knew more about what was out there, in space, was not lost to her. She watched as John tried on parts of the experimental suit, and it was altered to fit him. If it was something that they should be afraid of, then why let John go? Unless, like everyone else, they had their own reasons down the line for wanting first-hand information. She wondered if that information was about where the mages got their power from, or if it might be the aliens that suddenly seemed very believable.

  Christine had not gotten so far into the FBI by accepting every fairy tale and ghost story she heard. She had proven that she had a level head, dealt with facts, and didn’t shock easily when those facts turned out to be outlandish. She had no facts about aliens, other than some distorted histories from the mages, and they weren’t exactly a trustworthy bunch. Still, the idea that something out there had these people scared touched a deep and trusted survival instinct in her. If they were afraid, then there was a good case that she should be too.

  “Alright, John. Let's get you suited up and make sure it all fits and that you can put it on by yourself.” Thomas sipped from perhaps his fifth cup of coffee.

  “Sure.” John mumbled. When the suit was empty, it balanced in an odd bent over position, as if touching its toes. The panels along the spine and the backs of the legs standing open, making it look like some strange grayish space flower or statue in a science fiction exhibit. John stepped into the boots and felt them close around his calves, and slowly adjust themselves into place. Leaning over John wriggled his arms down the sleeves and his hands into the gloves. He took a deep breath and stood up, stretching his arms out to keep his hands in the gloves. Doing so activated the rest of the suit. Panels closed securely over his upper legs and across his spine. There was a faint hissing as they tightened themselves and adjusted to the action of his breathing, moving with him. Carefully John picked up the helmet, holding the faceplate into place. He closed the neck seals and thumbed the lock button under his jaw. The helmet clam-shelled close around his skull, pressing his face into the padding around the faceplate. He felt the pressure change as the suits re-breather worked. He checked the LED's along the sides of the faceplate. They were all green. John touched one of the small controls on his left forearm so he could talk to everyone through the microphone in the helmet. “Feels much better this time.”

  There was a pause as the others stood around him, examining the result of their long night and hard work. Dull gray panels of ceramic-metal composite that were form-fitted held together and reinforced to form the exoskeleton. Under it, two layers of carbon fiber weave with a thin layer of self-sealing gel between them. The mechanical gills along the jawline of the helmet opened and closed silently as they worked, occasionally there was a faint hiss as the helmet expelled gas to maintain pressure. The faceplate was rounded and smooth, much smaller, and closer to John’s face than traditional space helmets, it was also polarized and slightly reflective. The dark surface lent a menacing gaze to the armor.

  “You look like something out of a bad sci-fi movie,” Eric said as he walked around John, examining the armor with a critical eye. Turning to Thomas, he asked, “How much punishment will take?”

  “If it works like we think it will… John should be able to survive massive impacts and radiation levels that would instantly kill an unprotected person.”

  “Massive impact? As in a bullet?” Eric raised an eyebrow. “Can we test it? I’ve always wanted to shoot John.”

  “Massive impact, as in micro meteors and space debris going much faster than any bullet, we could fire at him. And, no, please don’t shoot the encounter suit. We need it in working order.” Thomas couldn’t help but want the suit to remain in pristine condition, it was the most fantastic bit of technology he and his team had ever built. He ignored that much of it couldn’t have been done without magical assistance.

  “Let’s put the pack on him and have him try walking around with it all.” Conrad was leaning on his cane more than he usually did, and his eyes were bloodshot.

  “I better do it myself, I’m gonna have to sling that thing alone.” John walked slowly but steadily around the table.

  “You can walk normally, the suit should work with you.” Thomas wanted a trained astronaut testing it out.

  “Still getting used to it.” John quickly picked up the large case that was the suit matching pack. Made of the same gray material but more rigid, it was designed to keep the equipment inside protected from radiation and the hard vacuum of space. Where the suit was almost artistic, the pack was brutish and straightforward in its geometry. The tent was now made of folding plates and locking hinges that self-assembled and then could neatly collapse itself again. It could be attached externally to the bottom of the backpack. John carefully pulled the pack onto his back and slowly moved it around till he heard locks click on the suit. “I don’t feel the weight at all.”

  “You won’t, but don’t forget it still has mass, go slinging that thing around in low gravity, and you’ll know how much it weighs when you try to control it.” Thomas stepped forward and examined the seal between the suit and the pack. “Does the display show it locked.”

  “Yep.” Several more lights had come on and turned green to show the locks were solid.

  “Tell me which ones do what again.” Thomas stood in front of John and examined the helmet closer.

  “The row on the left is air quality, the outside row is the external air, inside row is your air supply. The right side is radiation, ambient on the right, the internal on the left. The bottom row is suit integrity and locks with the pack.”

  “Alright. Try connecting to the air supply in the pack.” John leaned his head back into the top of the pack when he left it there for a second, he heard and felt a loud click on the back of the helmet. A new light came on, indicating his air supply was locked and full.

  “I got green lights on that.”

  “Alright. Take it off and-“

  “No. I’ve wasted enough time. I need to get after Finley. Where’s the gun?”

  “Here.” Eric walked over and pressed a holster to the right thigh of the armor. There was a click, and it locked in place. It was large and bulky to fit the modified handgun.

  “John! We haven’t tested it in a full vacuum. Thomas looked frantically to Conrad for support.

  “I’
m sorry, Thomas. John is right. The longer he waits here, the harder it will be to catch up with Finley.” Conrad picked up the Primer, and it’s key. “Anyone who isn’t a mage should leave now. This won’t be safe for you to see.”

  “There’s one more thing.” Christine stepped forward after being silent during most of the night's work. “He needs a kit to take with him.”

  “A kit?” Asked Conrad.

  “Get him the kit, Thomas.”

  “Right away.”

  “What is the kit?” Asked John from inside his suit.

  “It’s the last option. A syringe of poison and a small incendiary device.” Explained Thomas as he opened a small plastic box and showed the two small items to everyone.

  “Screw that.” John walked over to Conrad and took the primer, and it’s key. “I’m not gonna kill myself and leave Radha to the tender mercies of a Censor.”

  “John, listen. What if you get lost and can’t come home? What if there are aliens out there, and they don’t like us? Even your dead body would give them vast amounts of information about us, to say nothing about the tech you're carrying. Imagine what they could learn from you if they caught you alive!”

  “I’m a mage! I could teleport away and-“

  “John!” Conrad harshly jammed his cane into what he hoped was a weak part of John’s spacesuit. “No need to get arrogant. Thomas, I don’t think you realize the kind of power we have. So unless you know something we don’t…” Conrad paused. “You do, don’t you? What is it that you know?”

  “I… I only know that they’ve sent the kit along on every mission. Even the first ones. Word is that the Russians had their own version.”

  “Christine? Would you like to elaborate?”

  “I can’t. I was told to make sure John takes one. I can’t tell you who gave the order, because I don’t know.”

  “A man with no name who sits behind a desk making all the decisions. So that when the time comes, no one is to blame. Not even he can be held responsible. Tell me, does he still smoke and have a trimmed beard?”

  “No.“

  Conrad tapped his cane on the concert floor a couple of times while he thought. “John?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t want you to take risks out there. It seems that our friends in high places know something, and it scares them. For once in your life, play it safe, and be smart!”

  “I will. Just keep looking for Radha and Deanna for me.”

  “We’ll mind the shop. You best be on your way now, before the powers that be decide that you shouldn’t go.” John teleported away without the kit.

  “That kid has a determination to die in the most interesting way possible.” Said Eric to no one in particular.

  “I think you called it ‘creative suicide’ once?” Chuckled Conrad.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not just him.” Christine felt they needed to be reminded. “If people in the government are afraid, then we should be worried.”

  “Not really.” Thomas said with confidence. “They could be afraid of any number of things, very few of which would involve aliens. The truth is that every time I have to sign those papers and swear to secrecy, I realize just how fearful governments are of people learning too much.”

  “They are usually the ones in power-“

  “Exactly. No one wants to lose power, and they rarely share it. Keeping secrets is keeping power. The truth is, though, that it’s all just paper and threats. They can’t wipe out hundreds of people for a single secret, they can’t forget that we’re the ones holding the keys to the truths.” Thomas knew he was saying things he shouldn’t, but the doors been thrown open, and reality was much more than he ever dreamed it could be.

  “The man has a point.” Said Eric with a smile.

  “The question remains; What secret are they keeping?” Conrad looked at Christine with suspicion.

  Chapter 18

  “For the last time, I’m not screwing around with John!” Deanna shouted loud enough that Radha could hear her clearly in her cell.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Why should you believe some magical jackass of a kidnapper? This is what he wants, this is what he needs, to keep us turned against each other. That way, he never has to worry about us working together, use your brain girl!”

  “I am using my brain, and there must be a reason John never let us meet.”

  “Yeah, but I knew about you, and you knew about me. It’s not like John was keeping secrets from anyone except me. Tell Deanna about magic? Naw, she doesn't need to know, she’s just messing around with the raw code for it and in danger of melting her brain! Why would I want to screw someone so willing to endanger my life!” The sounds of pounding accompanied the yelling this time.

  “Excuse me, ladies.”

  Radha went to the window in her cell door and saw the nameless woman standing in the hallway between their cells. “Please, you have to help us.”

  “If I help you to escape, or try to escape, I will not be allowed to live. You are invited to breakfast, I’ll give you both a few moments to make your selves presentable.” The woman did not move, she simply stood there, waiting for them to announce that they were ready.

  Radha went into the small bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her hair was clinging to the remains of her long ponytail, but it clearly needed to be washed and re-braided. Her eyes were red from crying, and the dark circles under them made her look sad and helpless. She checked her teeth in the mirror and was pleased that least there was nothing stuck between them. Radha straightened her clothing, splashed some water on her face, and declared herself ready for their next encounter with their captor.

  Stepping into the hallway, Radha was pleased to see that Deanna didn’t look any better. Her hair was matted, clothing rumbled, and her appearance was not accompanied by a sharp remark. Silently the three walked down the hallway to the elevator and waited mutely as it crept upwards. Radha took a moment to examine the nameless woman more closely. She was a creature that Radha couldn’t understand. Her hair and makeup were perfect, if excessive, she seemed to be wearing a lot of foundation and concealer. Radha had always favored a minimal approach to make up, as much to save time as anything else. The doors opened, and as the woman stepped forward, Radha saw something that gave her pause. There was a spider web of scars that ran from behind the woman's ear. More scars ran along her hairline, and down the back of her neck. Radha glanced at Deanna and pointed meaningfully. Deanna nodded and quickly pointed to the back of the woman's legs, she was wearing a skirt that came down to her knees, leaving a network of scars visible on her legs.

  Radha wanted to say something, shout something, to grab hold of this woman, and weep at her abuse. There was little time because, after a short walk, they were again standing in the sitting room with their captor. A table had been set. Solomon sat sipping from a cup as they were escorted to their seats across from him.

  “I’m pleased you ladies decided to join me for breakfast. I wanted to have a chat before I left for work.”

  “Off to a hard day at the office, burning villages and orphanages?” Deanna said with a sharp smile.

  “You truly must think me a vile creature.” Solomon smiled into his cup as he sipped.

  “You’ve gone to great lengths to show us that you are.” The steel and anger in Radha’s voice felt like it belonged to someone else.

  “There can be no good without evil, no light, without darkness. I’m just lucky enough to express my full nature without the foolish social constraints everyone else lives under.”

  “Enforcing the law does not put you above the law.” Radha said without looking away from Solomon's gaze.

  “It would seem that hunger makes you bold, so let’s remedy that. Bring in breakfast as soon as you can.” Solomon addressed the nameless woman without looking away from Radha.

  “As you wish.” The woman turned and fast-walked out of the room.

  “You enjoy showing off
that you can keep people as pets. Is that what you intend for us?” Deanna was determined not to let Radha be the only defiant voice at the table.

  “My intentions towards the two of you are harmless, and you should not presume to understand my relationship with my house staff.”

  “Harmless? Are we to be your expression of your peaceful and kind half?” Deanna hoped that pushing their captor wouldn’t remove the possibility of food, she was starving.

  “I intend to simply hold sweet Radha till John returns from his errand, and as for you, my dear, I was hoping you could help me.”

  “Help you?” Deanna sensed a hook in those words.

  “I want you to complete the program you were working on for John.”

  “You want me to give you a working formula for a unified theory?”

  “No, I want you to give me a program that exposes every possible pattern.” Solomon paused to finish the last of his coffee. “Really, playing stupid is unbecoming to someone of your intelligence. “

  “Why in hot hell would I ever give you something like that?”

  “I will set you free, I will pay you, and if that isn’t enough, you will have succeeded where great minds have failed.”

  “Do I strike you as someone you can sweet talk?” Deanna smiled.

  “You, of course, know what a difference engine is?”

  “A what?” Radha looked to Deanna for an explanation.

  “The first computers were mechanical, designed, and built for solving complex equations. Charles Babbage built them for the British government, they were essentially massive mechanical steam-powered calculators.”

  “Excellent, Deanna. But, he did not just build them for the British Empire. He was also heavily funded by a small group of mages who saw potential in his machines. They wanted a way to rapidly solve very complex and challenging geometry. Solomon smiled like a cat that knew where the key to the canary cage was. “John is not the first person to consider a pure math approach to magic, I’m impressed he came up with it at all. No matter Johns intelligence, or lack thereof, he was lucky enough to hire you in an era where computer technology might be able to live up to the task.”