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Charger Chronicles 3: Charger the God

Page 3

by Lea Tassie


  Oh, and have I told you she's going to team up with Abarth?

  No, I'm not kidding! I said she was nice; I didn't say she had brains.

  ***

  Pennington sat on the deck outside her house, a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders against the night's bitter cold. Such suffering was the price she and her followers had to pay for their new place of refuge. Though the great northern regions of New Eden didn't have snow, they were cold enough to kill. Members of this colony often remarked that the weather might be more tolerable if they did get snow; at least falling snowflakes were festive.

  She had taken the name of Pope Paul in an effort to create a bond with her people, a bond that was often strained by the interference of disbelievers and deniers. Her once pretty face was now deeply lined and her jowls sagged. Age had not been kind to this Pope of the people, though she had accepted all the medical advances in extending life.

  The planet's past president, Tegra-Duran, had seen to it that any dissidents who wanted to distance themselves from the majority of survivors in the conflict with the black sphere god would not be compensated or supported. So it fell to the few believers who had followed Pennington to this inhospitable part of the world to carve out of the wilderness the paradise which faith promised.

  Celeste came out onto the deck and offered Pennington a hot cup of tea, hoping this might distract her long-time friend and encourage her to realize the bitterness of the night's air. "Maybe you should stop worrying about the new president and come inside?" Celeste suggested. Pennington sat motionless. "I don't believe he will be any different from the last president. We still won't receive support from the cities."

  "It's hard to believe, in a time of such great wealth and prosperity, that our brothers and sisters are so willing to make us suffer for our beliefs," Pen said.

  "The world has been a wicked place since science locked our god away. It is for that reason we are made to suffer. We are to pay the price for the deceitful behavior of our brothers and sisters. Their selfish desire to survive, over our god's will to create, has doomed the planet."

  Celeste had always been a bit of an extremist, Pen thought. Often she did make sense, but not this time. "I think what humanity has done is fair. Their fear of the unknown and their disregard of their souls is not for us to judge. Our task is to offer guidance." Pen sipped from the cooling cup of tea.

  "I just do not understand how science locked away our god so easily. God must have a plan, and we must wait for him to reveal it." Realizing that Pen wouldn't return to the warmth of their small hut, Celeste sat down next to her friend.

  Pennington had always been a bit of an extremist, Celeste thought. Like Pen, she had accepted all the medical enhancements to life as they came along, up until the last two hundred years. Then, because Pope Paul preached constantly against science and technology, she eased her guilt by refusing anything more coming from that source. After all, when she died she would go and dwell with the god, would she not? And wasn't that what she should want to do; wasn't that the ultimate bliss?

  Celeste didn't object to Pope Paul taking all the medical treatments, though the woman was so haggard now that Celeste suspected she must be suffering much guilt for doing so. But Pen's leadership was essential for their group and for the conversion of those poor ignorant souls who did not know where true happiness lay.

  The members of this small colony lived in a cluster of basic two-room huts and gathered daily in a large, well-built church at the center. There, Pope Paul addressed her people and imparted stories of her great grandmother's long ago encounters with the small Gray alien. Pen often took credit for the kindness humanity had shown to the Grays after all the damage they had wrought, and felt that somehow she was responsible for humanity taking the moral high road and refusing to punish the agrarian Grays who remained.

  This was completely untrue, for the world ship's leader had asked the populace for a decision, and the people, through compassion and logic, reasoned that nothing could be gained from revenge, and therefore spared the Grays. Pen's voice had been heard, but hers was only one of many that day. Thus the survivors of the violence on the Grays' planet gave up the desire to avenge themselves for the destruction of Earth and made the long trek back to their starting point, where they soon found themselves facing a vengeful god, bent on punishing humans for acts they had had no part in.

  The time-lock device that housed Charger R/T and the black sphere which claimed to be humanity's god, along with the surviving First Ones, was deemed too dangerous for humanity to keep in its possession. Pennington had often heard the story of how the time-lock device was entrusted to the few remaining Taskoids, who hid the device, burying it deep underground. Locking their bodies together to entomb the device, they died that way, so the story went, thus keeping its location secret from humanity.

  From the podium in her church, Pope Paul lectured her followers at great length on the folly of mankind in allowing this action. Pen had reasoned that a god could not be so easily contained, and that the followers should test their faith by venturing out into the wilderness and finding the time-lock. Many gave their lives to this cause, for the northern regions of New Eden were harsh and unforgiving to inexperienced travelers.

  The night's bitter air finally grew too much for Pen to endure. She and Celeste retired for another night. When she awoke in the morning, Celeste was surprised to find Pen missing from her bed, for her leader was usually a late riser.

  Pen had indeed dragged her old body from the comfortable refuge of her bed and, after dressing, made her way to the large church, dreading the step she intended to take. The idea had been rolling about in her mind for several months. Steeling herself, she retrieved a small digital device from its hiding place under the pulpit. Rotating it in her hands and inspecting it closely, Pen was sure that she understood how to activate it. With several clicks of buttons on the face, in a pattern she had decided made perfect sense, the device sparked to life.

  Pen held in her hands a piece of old Taskoid technology, which had been found by one of the congregation almost a year back, and deemed too wicked for them to be involved with. What Pen did now was completely opposed to her usual vehement rejection of science and technology. As she drew the small device up to her failing eyes, she told herself that she was the only one capable of using this cursed reminder of a time best forgotten.

  The small Taskoid communication device began clicking out a location. Pennington was elated. It had to be directions to the last remaining Taskoids that hid the time-lock.

  Celeste had entered the church quietly in search of her pope and found Pen holding and operating this wicked abomination. Shocked, she cried, "You can't be serious! If you use that thing, then every member of our church will realize that the people you sent out looking for god's tomb will have perished for nothing."

  "Do you think I have not considered this?" Pope Paul demanded. "I cannot reconcile my faith with inaction, and it is time someone did something! I had a vision from god last night, and he asked me to find his location. Don't you see? It's a test! God will reward me with the powers I need to smite his offenders. I will be his right hand, and his glory will rain down terror on those who dare challenge his power and righteousness." Pope Paul was working herself up into a frantic rage as she desperately tried to find religious answers for her apparent deceit.

  Celeste began to realize that something was clearly amiss. This was not the Pennington she knew. Had her friend truly been touched by god, she wondered?

  Pennington had certainly been touched, but not by a god. A small blood clot was forming deep in her brain. Her age and poor diet were finally catching up with her.

  "In my vision I was promised that heaven and the angels themselves will flock to my side, and I will hold the rod of god, once held by Moses himself. I will wipe the world clean of all the unbelievers, and bring a new world order, led by me!"

  Celeste felt herself morally rising to support her Pope, encouraged by t
he frankness and conviction of this woman.

  Pennington shuddered, stumbled and fell to the floor, convulsing. The impression of a great leader speaking in tongues could not be ignored. Others of the congregation had come into the church, drawn both by the noise and the fact that this was the only truly warm building in the colony. Pope Paul continued to rant, convulsing but holding the clicking, sparking device well hidden beneath her cloak. "The rod was delivered to me by god!" Pope Paul yelled out, convincing everyone that this was a true miracle.

  Many followers fell to their knees and prayed fervently, hoping to be one of those benefiting from this holy moment. Celeste, plunging into the spirit of things, threw her hands high into the air and shouted to the gathering, "Be witness to the glory of god, a prophet has been given to us this day. We must follow and be guided by this blessing. Fear not, for god is on our side. He has chosen us to be the new voice of righteousness and we will not fail him."

  Encouraged by the spectacle of Pope Paul apparently speaking in tongues, the members of her group began to mobilize. One of the leaders was Abarth. Celeste watched as he shouted encouragement and could not help admiring his ability to motivate people and make decisions in an emergency.

  And Abarth was such a nice man, Celeste thought, as well as efficient. He had been utterly devastated by the death of his wife and three daughters at the hands of medical science and turned to religion for help, becoming a devoted follower. At first the members were all very supportive of his pain but, as nothing seemed to diminish his distress, people began focusing more on their own lives, and gave less and less support to the grieving widower. Perhaps she ought to ask Pen, in one of her sermons, to remind the members of Abarth’s tragic loss.

  For his part, Abarth was merely doing what he did best: leading. He knew that whatever the Pope thought she'd found, it wasn't the burial place of the god. He had just returned to the group after a period in Eur, doing reconstruction work and ensuring that the god and the First Ones were safely isolated in confinement fields. Pen and her group didn't know this, since the authorities had decided not to release any news concerning the time-lock to the general public. Now Abarth wanted to know what Pennington had discovered. It might be worthwhile to stick around and find out. If it conferred any kind of power, he would use it to aid his revenge against the human race and most particularly against Charger R/T.

  People ran from the church, calling for others to rise and follow. The three thousand members of this northern colony began the arduous task of preparing to trek out into the wilderness, and leave behind the humble community they had built. Naturally, having fully rejected the evils of science and technology, they would walk to their destination and camp along the way. The adventure was about to begin.

  Much of New Eden's vegetation was similar to Earth's, but the wood on this planet was nearly impossible to burn. The different chemical processes that defined the short, stocky trees meant a large amount of heat was required before ignition could begin. The ground in the northern areas was also rough and abrasive, which made walking a great effort. Like the deserts of Earth, the sands found here caused friction and damage to the shoes of travelers. The chafing of the ground was at times so bad that footwear was ripped from the feet of the wearer, and anyone unfortunate enough to walk barefoot would lose skin from the soles of the feet.

  The atmosphere, too, was so dry that air taken into the lungs could burn the unprotected, especially if a storm kicked up any winds. Without the benefit of technology, this trek for the faithful would be more of a death march than an adventure.

  Pope Paul promised the faithful that god would protect them, and anyone who fell victim to the elements was surely undeserving of god's reward. After a week of preparation, the group began the trek. At the front of the procession, Pen and Celeste sat high on a cart pulled by the faithful, singing songs to encourage the masses following them.

  At the end of that first day, when tents were set up to house the three thousand colonists, the cold night air deterred Pen and Celeste from preaching to the followers and they retired to bed early. With few fires burning and the cold settling in, most of the colonists resorted to sleeping together in groups for warmth. This meant that in some cases adult men slept beside the daughters of neighbors but, fortunately, nothing resulted from this, other than temptation.

  Next day, after breakfast and a sermon, the trek to find the god continued. Pen often ordered her cart to stop, while she encouraged the people passing by, telling them she was being guided by a miraculous and powerful force. Hidden beneath her clothing, the communications device clicked on, leading the group to its fate.

  "Can you feel it?" Pen asked Celeste. "I believe that god has finally revealed to me his plan. Soon we will be at his tomb and, with our faith reinvigorated, we should be able to defeat the science that was used to imprison him." The two women sat upright and stared off over the horizon from their seats on the cart, as members from the congregation took turns pulling them along the sandpapery ground.

  "It's good to finally be doing something," Celeste replied. "We spent too long at the colony and too many things were provided for us. I think we became spoiled with our life there. Some suffering will do us all good. I just wish these small insect things would stop biting me; it's becoming quite a nuisance."

  There had been no insects on New Eden since black clouds of cicadas in the billions killed off most of the early humans. The steps taken by the Taskoids to eliminate this threat had wiped out all insect life. What Celeste didn't know was that, in this northern land, the air could become charged with ionic particles. These particles had the same effect as an insect bite, but were much more damaging to the human body. Enough shocks from these charged particles could, in fact, cause the heart to stop, resulting in death. But only a scientist would have found the cause before it became a problem.

  Soon, however, this fact was becoming evident, as colonists would suddenly just drop dead. By the time a month had passed, two hundred men, women and children had died. Pope Paul used this to urge the colonists to greater effort, claiming the deaths were evidence of the victims' unfaithfulness.

  One morning, the two women found themselves facing a line of towering cliffs that stretched off toward the horizon in both directions. "Are you sure the device is still working?" Celeste whispered to Pen.

  "Quite sure. This is the direction we need to travel," Pen whispered back. It was crucial that no one else know of the device. When the colonists gathered, Pen addressed the crowd. "We will build a road to the top. This is a true test of our faith and we must rise to the occasion. I will be the first to start clearing stones and moving dirt to create a road. Who is with me?"

  Enthusiastic, and perhaps slightly mad with hunger, the masses joined in. They had expected the journey to be relatively short and the food they'd carried from the colony was almost gone. Rationing had been in effect for the past week.

  The next month brought more deaths, which at least meant more resources left for survivors. The road now reached almost a quarter of the way up the cliff. Pen spent many days in her tent, complaining bitterly about the lack of progress, and insisted that the colonists work day and night to reach the top faster. They responded with renewed vigor. They were grateful not to be slaves to technology and science, like the people they had left behind in warm, safe cities. They took pride in being free people, doing god's work.

  But one young boy did object, his voice as bitter as Pen's. He had lost his father only days before. He missed his mother and wanted to return to the cities of the south. Pen realized this could be disastrous for the cause and decided to seek god's guidance.

  First, Pen called in the road workers for the night. Then, in the darkness, she walked up to the end of the work area and consulted her digital device. Suddenly, high up on the cliff, a blinding light flashed, visible to the faithful down below. Moments later, Pen emerged from the darkness to tell of her encounter with one of god's angels.

  Everyone was awed
by this amazing event, though none had actually witnessed it. So convincing was Pen's speech that no one needed to witness the event, for she painted a perfect picture for everyone's imagination.

  One question was raised. Very little food was left. Would it be possible for god to provide the masses with extra rations? To this end, Pope Paul assured the congregation that god had heard their prayers, that salvation was at hand and more food would be provided in the coming days.

  The solution was simple. Pen and Celeste sent a huge number of people off on quests to both the west and east ends of the cliff face, with the promise that they would surely help the group if they could find a path to the top of the cliff as well as some food. With only fifteen hundred colonists remaining to build the road to the top, their prayers were answered: there was now more food for everyone.

  The labor went on. "God is truly a miracle worker. With so many of our young girls getting pregnant, our ranks will swell again to the numbers we had when we started this great journey," Pen said confidently to Celeste.

  "Yes, it is truly divine," Celeste responded as she sipped from her teacup. They sat together in front of their tent, now halfway up the cliff face at a new base camp. Far below, workers were demolishing the road they had created. Pen had suggested that if any scientists tried to stop them, they would surely use this road to reach the group. With the road destroyed and impassable, no one on foot could reach them.

  It took the group six months to build and then destroy the road to the top of the cliff. Now there could be no turning back, ever. And, when they reached the top, new and frightening knowledge faced them. The great northern regions of New Eden did not have snow but vast stretches of open, wind-swept ice fields stretched out before the colonists. With many young pregnant women close to their due dates, Pen reluctantly ordered her people to set up camp. They would remain here till after the births.

  One evening, as the colonists sat around their fires to keep warm, a strange noise rose in the distance. Across the ice fields came an eerie howling. This was shocking because, during all the reconnaissance missions to explore the planet, no life was ever found to exist in the frozen north.

 

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