by Lea Tassie
But there was indeed life, though difficult to find. These large predators hibernated for several years, sometimes as many as fourteen years, depending on the planet's cycle. New Eden followed a deeply elliptical orbit around its small red sun. This had the effect of creating randomly spaced seasons in the northern region, and these predators had the ability to hibernate in dens deep below the surface. Biologists did suspect they existed, but none had ever been seen.
The colonists grew fearful as the howling came nearer. Unsure of what to do, they banded together around the central fire of the camp and pulled old retired weapons from their packs.
"Everyone just remain calm," Celeste shouted. "I'm sure that our faith in god will protect us."
Nothing could protect humans from the apex predator, now awake and hungry. These bear-like creatures traveled at lightning speed over the open ice fields toward the camp. They ran on two legs, though they had a large rear stump of a hind leg and a thick firm front limb, and they reached speeds of nearly a hundred miles per hour. They had binocular vision, so could see stereoscopically, but their eyes were set low on their faces, creating a blind spot above. Oddly, they had no teeth, only a stinger that would erupt from their chests and was used to drain the fluids from their prey.
The colonists finally saw the pack of predators racing toward them. Antique weapons exploded in gunfire, never once hitting a target. Colonists crumpled to their knees sobbing and weeping at the futility of their situation.
Therefore, the explosions which destroyed the beasts came as a complete surprise. High above them, combat ships had emerged from the cloud cover and were destroying these creatures, killing most and sending the rest scattering for cover.
The elders far to the south had long watched these colonists on satellite images, unwilling to get involved unless absolutely necessary. They had already rescued the two groups, near death, that Pen had sent west and east in search of food and trails. The authorities had decided to let the other colonists continue their trek, but to keep ships and troops at the ready.
The lead ship landed close to the camp. From it emerged Captain Marshall, a tall, thin man with jet black hair. "Hope you don't mind, but we were in the neighborhood and thought we might stop in for a cup of tea," Captain Marshall said, with a dry smile.
"You are quite welcome to join us," Celeste responded, as she ordered members to start preparing food. "I was just telling my followers to have faith that god would provide for us. And here you are!"
"Yes, well, there is that," responded the captain. He decided it would be pointless to explain his presence to such a convinced believer.
Now that things seemed under control, Pope Paul emerged from her tent and welcomed the new guests. This did not go unnoticed among the colonists. "Captain, you say you just happened to be in the area. That does seem a little unlikely." Pen drew closer to the bonfire.
"Well, ma'am, we were near enough to be curious, and that's a good thing. Considering the climate here and all you've been through, don't you think that you would be safer in the cities?" Captain Marshall's tone was firm. He hoped to strike chords of reason in as many people as was possible.
"My followers are perfectly safe, child," Pennington said in a condescending manner. "Our god has seen to our safety this far, and I believe he will see us to our destination. But, if any of my flock would like to leave, they are free to do so."
Some colonists didn't wait to be asked twice. They headed for the waiting ships.
"There, you see!" snapped Pen, disgusted. "Those who are weak have left us freely. Now will you also depart?" Her manner suggested this was not a question but an order.
Captain Marshall tipped his hat and said, "Well, if no others wish to leave, then I will be off. Good bye to you all."
The ships lifted skyward and disappeared into the night. They were crammed with all the women who had given birth and a good majority of the men responsible.
Pen and Celeste felt the impact of the loss of so many, but stubbornly ranted on well into the early morning, praising the remainder and promising places in heaven. The next day found a much-reduced group of colonists packing and heading further north, walking into the frozen wastes. One of the members happened to mention the futility of building a road up the cliff, when technology was available that would allow them to simply fly safely to their destination. He was left to freeze in the ice.
By now the carts had failed and Celeste and Pen had to walk, like the others. Singing hymns, they pressed on, but at a slower pace.
***
The group had been walking for only two days across the blistering cold of the ice field with its high winds and biting air, when dissension arose.
One of the older men said to Abarth, the designated group leader, "I'm telling you, this is madness!" The group had been huddled together trying to fend off the wind, hopeful for an end to this vast expanse of ice. "We have no wood for a fire, we have no water to drink and we are unable to eat because our food is frozen," the old man continued.
Abarth seemed to take no notice of the complaints.
"If we turn back now, back to the trees behind us, some of us might live," the old man insisted.
"That's enough!" Abarth snapped, tired of the old man stating the obvious. "Why do you keep complaining? We will be just as dead if those beasts decide to attack us again. This is our road to salvation. If you are no longer a true believer, feel free to turn back."
The old man looked at Abarth with disbelief, not sure if the man was mad or simply delusional. "You would willingly let me walk back to the trees by myself, at my age, with no help?" He was shaking with fear, unsure if he was willing to give up his life just yet.
"I will walk back with you," a young woman stated.
"As will I," came another voice.
Then several others joined in. A small group of seven gathered to begin the walk back to the trees. Celeste decided to take action. "Brothers and sisters," she said quickly, "Our pope has decided that a few of you should return to the trees behind us and collect some firewood. I pick you seven there." Celeste pointed to the group already departing. "Go now, retrieve some wood for us and return quickly. Your pope has ordered that this shall be so."
"Yeah? I won't be returning," one of the departing seven said under her breath.
The remaining members, now full of renewed hope, praised the wisdom of their pope and their good fortune to be part of such a great and noble quest.
After several more days of struggling, the group half frozen and near dead, Celeste and Pen reached the far side of the ice field, following the Taskoid communication device's directions. During this week-long trek, more people had died, and now only a handful of followers remained. The ice field ended at the base of a mighty mountain rising from the land like a huge black specter, foreboding and ominous.
However, they now had trees around them again and a fire was quickly made and food cooked. Both Celeste and Pen went on at some length thanking god for their good fortune.
Unknown to the group, the city elders far to the south had kept military craft in the area, and these quickly rescued the seven who had 'gone for firewood.'
"Are you sure this is the right spot?" Celeste asked Pennington.
"Yes, quite sure. According to these readings, it's about a third of the way up this mountain," Pen replied, as she fondled the Taskoid device, away from prying eyes.
The night was full of starlight. So black was the area that the sky seemed almost white with stars. The small group spent the evening writing in diaries about this momentous adventure, careful to record only a religious perspective and omit any personal doubts that might reflect badly on the group. After all, when their objective had been achieved, the whole world would clamor to read their stories. With that work finished, many were grateful for a good night's sleep next to the warmth of a fire.
In the morning light, tents were quickly stowed away and the group began climbing up the jagged rocks to the destination Pennington p
ointed out. "It's not far now. Have faith! Our god is a merciful god and has allowed us chosen few to reach this goal," Pen shouted as the men hauled her and Celeste up the cliffs. "Let's all sing!"
Most were short of breath, but made the effort all the same. Grabbing at rocks and tree branches for support the group climbed for several hours before Pen ordered them to stop and make camp. They were only a short walk from the location the communicator was indicating.
While the group set up tents and made fires for a late evening meal, Celeste and Pen crept from the camp. Within minutes, the two friends found the place they sought. They felt sure that there, under the rubble and dirt of the steep hillside, was the time-lock which had captured their god in the sky fight with the great demon, Charger R/T. The two women fell to their knees and started rooting around in the dirt, pebbles and dead leaves, eager to find the object of their desire.
Their hands soon struck a metallic object. Inspired, they frantically cleared away the dirt and made out the shape of something large and clearly alien. Then the rest of the group found them, and joined in pulling away dirt and pebbles. After an hour or so, they uncovered the object, to the praises and hallelujahs of Celeste.
In the light of flashlight beams, the object appeared to be scorched badly and looked similar to a large, square meteorite. The group packed it back to the camp and placed it in the largest tent, the food tent. Then they began to argue about who would have the privilege of cleaning it up. Even Abarth could not control the fights which erupted as many tried desperately to confirm their religious zealotry.
It was only when Pope Paul took the communications device from beneath her robes, placed it in a slot on the object, and activated it that the group forgot their quarrels. These faithful followers had been told by their pope that technology and science were always the work of the devil. So why did she now possess and use technology?
Before anyone could ask that question, the metal device started to react. Small colored lights blinked on and clicking of gears and switches could be heard.
This, as Abarth knew so well, was not the time-lock that held their god. It was, in fact, the remainder of the Prime Taskoid. The Prime had been the only being able to get close enough to Charger R/T and the god during their battle in the sky and, with the help of a First One, capture the combatants in the time-lock device. The Prime escaped being drawn into the time-lock field and, unseen, fell back to earth, crashing into this mountainside, where it had remained for a thousand years, lost and forgotten.
It took some time before Pen and Celeste realized that this was not the time-lock, but the Prime. The hatred this group had for the Prime, equally responsible with Charger R/T for the loss of their god, began to build into an ungovernable rage.
As morning broke, and the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tent's opening, the Prime's digital optics stirred to life, giving the once dormant mechanoid its first look around. Corrupted programs began defragging and organizing, giving relevance to the Prime's mind. Its power source had been depleted and the internal clock reset, so the Prime had no idea when or where it was. It understood quickly enough that it had no ability to move and, as was the protocol, a diagnostic subroutine was enacted. The information returned to the Prime's main program told of a desperate situation: over seventy percent of the unit was destroyed. The Prime had exposed internals, badly damaged power units, and no limbs. For all intents and purposes, the unit should not be functioning.
"I still think we might be wrong," Celeste said to Pen just outside the door to the tent that held the Prime. "What you're proposing amounts to torture. How will our followers react to this?"
Pennington sucked in a breath, steeling herself for what she felt was necessary. "We have an opportunity here," she began. "This thing is responsible for the confinement of our god, and I truly believe that if we press it hard enough, it will give us the location of the time-lock device."
"Can you hear yourself?" Celeste responded as she reached out to gently touch Pen's arm. "We've already deceived our followers by using the technology you have always forbidden. Now you want to further endanger our reputation by an inquisition. We are in a precarious situation here, and I think the others might rebel. We should carry what we have back to the village in the south. We can then take our time and try to get help from scientists nearby." Celeste spoke carefully, hoping Pen could be swayed from her present course of action.
"Scientists! How could you even consider such a thing?" Pen blurted, her face turning red with rage. She was certain that science was wholly responsible for the capture of their god, and the very suggestion of cooperating with representatives of the despised sciences was unthinkable and unforgivable. "Science tried to kill our god! I say we use their science against them! I say we send science a message! I say we torture and kill, if necessary, this abomination of science in order to free our god!"
Pope Paul had gone into full preaching mode, ranting loud enough that her followers could hear every word. These few members of her congregation were starving and cold, and might be forgiven for the state their minds were in. However, this could not be true for Pope Paul, who was well-fed and warm. Celeste was beginning to fear the level of commitment that her pope was demanding, fearful for her very soul.
"I can't in good conscience agree with this course of action. We can't stoop to the level of torture, even on such a wretched creation." Celeste hoped that if she drew a line in the sand, her pope would reconsider.
"Fine! I will do it myself! Your hands need not get dirty!" Pope Paul shouted, her voice full of hate. Pennington flung open the door to the tent and stormed inside alone.
From outside, Celeste and the others heard sounds of screeching metal and what sounded like cries of pain. This went on for hours before Pen exited the tent, her face twisted and sharp. "I am not finished. I will return in an hour. No one is allowed to enter the tent!" Pope Paul walked to the small altar she had erected to pray for forgiveness. When she returned, Celeste and the others saw a wild-eyed, determined woman bent on getting the answers she wanted. Everyone stepped back, giving room for Pope Paul to enter the tent and continue with the torture.
As it went on, some of the followers began whispering to each other. They could tell that the pope was not asking any questions, she was just physically torturing the creature. This madness carried on for hours before Celeste finally had to interrupt. "I think you should stop for the night, don't you?" she asked. Pennington, who looked exhausted, agreed. As her pope retired into the sleeping tent the two women shared, Celeste took a moment to look inside the other tent at the captured Prime.
What she witnessed were erratic sparking lights and the convulsive movement of some of the Prime's internal parts. What she heard were spoken words, some twisted into mournful cries, the result of the Prime's speech circuit being damaged.
"My god, it's a living being!" Celeste said aloud. Unfamiliar with technology and burdened with guilt, she could hardly be blamed for her superstitious outburst.
The small congregation was also looking inside the tent. Abarth asked, "If it's alive, it must also have a soul!"
The implication was obvious; the pope was torturing a human being with a soul that could be saved. The Prime lay helpless, with no means of defense, its metallic panels opened to expose the pulsing currents inside. Several work tools, like screw drivers and pry bars, were shoved deep inside the metallic body.
If the Prime was indeed alive, it was also clearly dying.
***
In the morning, Celeste took Abarth aside, away from the group, and said that she was going to tell the others to return to the south and leave the Prime behind. She requested his cooperation, her manner indicating that she expected unquestioning obedience. He could see that she was trying to save her long-time friend, Pennington, and thinking that if the group left for the south, Pen would be forced to go along.
"That is unacceptable," Abarth said. "We should remain and get the answers we need, then we can go
rescue god." He desperately wanted to discover what kind of power the Prime contained and seize it. He would need all the power he could gather, from whatever source, in order to destroy humanity.
Celeste looked shocked at his refusal, then shook her head. "The Prime has no idea where the time-lock device is, or even the place and time it now finds itself in. The interrogation is pointless."
Abarth snapped. The only thought in his mind was that this stupid woman must be silenced. Hardly even realizing what he was doing, he grabbed his knife from its inside pocket and lashed out, slashing Celeste across the throat and opening up a sizable wound. The gash was so large and deep that Celeste's head hung from her body by only a few shreds of flesh.
Unable to control his madness, Abarth continued to attack the defenseless woman. Because she had taken some of the life extension treatments, she lived for several minutes to suffer at his hands. Finally, she managed to stumble out of the trees and into the campground, bleeding profusely and unable to name her attacker.
Celeste lay dying in Pennington's arms as Abarth stood close by, his knife back in its sheath and his mind racing. He frantically sought an excuse that would let him escape his responsibility for Celeste's death. He pointed at the tent where the Prime lay.
"That thing attacked Celeste! That thing is what attacked our pope's friend!" Abarth yelled, hoping to stir up the others to rush to the defense of their pope.
Abarth found the moment almost too much to bear. First there was the loss of his family. He'd had no legal recourse for the death of his wife and daughters and, since the life extension procedure had been so successful with him, he was now forced to live, perhaps forever, bearing this loss. Then had come the loss of friends, this trek to nowhere, and the crumbling belief that he had once just barely convinced himself might be true. And now, Celeste had treated him like a servant.
