by Steve M.
The followers of Ceros are now known far and wide on Earth Seven for their meanness. Instead of being really nice to everyone, they were only nice to other followers of Ceros. To everyone else they were assholes. And this resulted in them being extremely grumpy most of the time. They would even tell you how miserable they were. And tell you, and tell you. But don’t suggest they change their ways…no, that will just piss them off and then they will become violent.
And they had reason to be grumpy most of the time. What had started as a revolution of behavior had been taken over by opportunists bent by power. When the followers of Ceros reached one million, a group of priests with a very conservative viewpoint overthrew the Council of Love set up by Ceros himself. In its place they became the Responsible Committee. They were responsible for all successes. Failures were theirs only in that they assigned responsibility for the failure. And it never was their fault. They were the ones that created the religious police.
The followers of Ceros became a people living in a state of perpetual fear and torment. This was caused by a religious police force that would harass them constantly. They demanded public acts of devotion and most importantly submission to their authority. Even the slightest hesitation in complete displaying respect would result in a beating and prison.
The police would roam the public squares in groups of five. Often they would sit drinking coffee at an outside table in a café, scanning the people walking past to decide whom they help next. Yes, help. They believed that forcing the population to live within the tight rules of behavior as dictated by them was in fact the highest form of worshipping Ceros.
They would approach the unsuspecting and demand immediate prayers from them and instant tithing. ‘Kneel and prove your devotion of Ceros and the High Priest’ they would demand in the voice of authority, their hands on their swords hinting at other possible responses. Then when the faithful were on their knees the police would demand tithing.
But a people learn through repetition. As a result the Ceros rarely left home with anything of value, lest the cops confiscate it as tithing. This also meant they never had any money in their pockets except for two of the smallest coin in value, the Ceros Dupon. This made them very stingy and they would try to get everything for free when they were out and about. A Ceros restaurant is one of the only places where you have to prove you can pay before your meal.
And the followers of Ceros were also slaver owners. Ceros was not a slave owner. In fact he spoke against it. But that part of his teachings were ignored in favor of the bits they like more. So instead of following Ceros and renouncing slvery, the most horrible practice imaginable, they embraced it like a Human Pig Smerker snorting Kuewlu Dust off the dorsal fin of a Merchita. They bought slaves at the public auctions after raids against other territories.
The miserable followers of the Cult of Ceros were eagerly looking forward to the return of Ceros. He would finally put an end to those damned religious police once and for all.
But they really want to talk to him about being allowed to retain their slaves. After all they did pay for them.
The boys laughed a long time and started reciting “No You Can’t,” a song taught to children in the Confederation. It mocked the Ceros.
“Momma can I have my dinner?” said Allor.
“No you can’t, boy, no you can’t,” sang Roan in reply.
“Momma can I go to bed?”
“No you can’t, boy, no you can’t,” sang Roan.
“My water?”
“No.”
“My fish?”
“No.”
“My favorite dish?”
“No you can’t,” sang Roan in reply.
They sang and ate in an age-appropriate manner—that is, they made a mess and sang off key.
When they finished the meal, they began to explore the site. Something had hit the side of the ravine and buried itself deep into the rock wall. Roan climbed up the fallen rocks. He scrambled to the topmost point where they met the undisturbed cliff face.
“I think I can see it in there,” he said. “It’s like there is a candle way down in there burning.”
“Maybe I can fit,” said Allor as he scrambled up the rocks. He burrowed his way between the large boulders. But each time he came to a series of smaller yet still large rocks that blocked his path.
“Let’s keep looking,” said Roan.
“Help me,” said Allor, with his shoulder against a large stone taller than him but precariously fallen to where it could be shoved down out of the way with just a little more force than Allor could summon. It rolled down from its perch and settled at the edge of the river. Back upstream, the boiling of the river continued, but now only in spurts. The orange light under the water was flashing now.
The boys spent several hours trying to find a way to move the rocks in their way. But each time they met an immovable object. Finally, with the sun casting shadows on the far wall of the ravine, they stopped looking for a way in.
“A good night’s sleep tonight,” said Roan as he rinsed his hands at the water’s edge.
“Me too,” said Allor. “I’m coming back tomorrow,” he added.
“Wait for me to finish my chores, OK?” asked Roan.
“OK,” replied Allor.
They walked along the water’s edge. When they got to the boiling water, they stopped.
“Wonder what it is? Why does it boil water?” asked Allor.
“I don’t know. But tomorrow I am bringing some rope. I will swim down and attach the rope, then we can pull it up and examine it,” replied Roan.
“Excellent. I will bring some of my father’s tools. They might be useful.”
“Good,” replied Roan.
Allor picked up a rock and let it fly. It disappeared after a few seconds. He was bending over and picking his next rock. As he was straightening up again, he noticed it.
“Why is there a hole in the cliff face over there?” He pointed to the rock face in line with the boiling water. It was round and very precisely round.
“I don’t know. Maybe that thing made it,” he said, pointing to the glowing tube.
“But where does it go?” asked Allor.
“I don’t know,” said Roan.
Then Allor did a thing most kids would do. He picked up his rock and threw it at the perfect hole in the rock wall. The flat stone with the rounded edges disappeared but continued to make a noise as it bounced from side to side in the tunnel through the stone of the cliff. A moment later there was a large clanging sound. It came from behind the rocks the boys had spent hours trying to move.
The look they shared was wild enthusiasm. They ran towards the perfectly round hole as fast as they could. They stopped at the opening of it. It was large enough for them to fit inside, single file on their stomachs. Gone were concerns about the time of day, parents that might worry about them, schoolwork waiting for them, and evening chores. It was a mystery, and they were children.
Roan entered the hole first. After the first ten maatars it became dark as the hole curved through the stone. They were near the end when they saw the first glow of light. They crawled faster.
Roan and Allor didn’t go home that night. They spent the entire night and most of the next day examining the contents of the spaceship. Their efforts were made difficult by the terrible smell inside of the craft. They finally went home late the next day after bathing in the river.
These two boys knew the greatest secret on Earth Seven.
But that is how this history started a long time ago. Let me tell you about recent events. You may find them more interesting. They are certainly more dangerous.
CHAPTER THREE
7.926 Kilorevs (~22 years) later
Allor was sitting on the steps of a Ceros temple. He was still shielded so no one could see him. He sat at one of the high corners of the smooth stone stairs. He would leave soon and move away from the temple. The patrols near the temple were
always more numerous than in other parts of the city. Allor tapped his sandals against the stone steps then put them back on his feet.
He walked away from the temple and towards The Grand Platz Lesser, the smallest of the three largest squares in the capital city of Pyramos. It was the major trading square and formed the edge of the labyrinth of warrens and alleys that made up the souks of the capital city. As long as the police got their 12 Dupon entry fee, they stayed out of the Lesser.
It served as the medieval supermarket for the Ceros. Thousands of people would carefully navigate through the back streets to the main entrance, avoiding the patrols, avoiding the tithing. Once inside their only risk was to the things they purchased and most of the men in the patrol groups didn’t want to carry around a bag of flour till the end of their shift. But this also made the time immediately preceding a shift change the wrong time to exit the Lesser with your purchases as they were sure to be confiscated.
Allor walked around the entrance tables. He reached down and took a handful of dupon coins from the entrance fee urn. The man in the uniform next to it never saw him. When he reached the midpoint of the Lesser, he reached to the left breast of the dark gray form-fitting suit that covered him from his neck down to his sandals. The insignia on the uniform acted like a knob. Allor turned it slightly to the left to reduce the field for his PPS to the minimum. Then he flipped over the medallion around his neck and touched the polished blue metal side twice.
At this there was a sudden scream and yelling from people around him who could suddenly see him. Out of nowhere he had come and now he stood there, in his long black robe with hood.
“Don’t be afraid. I come to heal you,” he said in a loud yet friendly voice.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” asked a man who stopped in front of him.
“I am no one,” replied Allor, “just a humble healer.”
“You cured my nephew’s club foot. And his spots on his face,” replied the man.
“Agis, yes, I was able to help him. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Allor asked.
“No. My health is perfect,” replied the man with pride.
“Then would you permit my machine to confirm your excellent health? It is temperamental and needs to run against a known healthy person to check and make sure it still working properly” Allor lied.
The man stepped forward. “Of course, waste your time. But it will be perfect, I assure you. Go ahead, fix your machine.”
Allor turned on the handheld device not much larger than his hand. He ran it slowly up and down the body of the tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard. It corrected a weak heart valve, a scar in the left lung, and bunions on the feet as Allor scanned the man. When he had finished and the rescan was showing all green for his entire body, Allor stood up showed the green screen to the man and smiled.
“It’s true. My machine confirms it. Your health is perfect, as you said. A man with self-control lives a long life, my friend.”
“I told you,” said the man. “But thank you for helping Agis. Don’t let me waste any more of your time proving what is already known.” Then the man turned to the crowd that was forming. He spoke in a loud voice. “I testify that this healer is a true healer. He has healed those close to me. Bring him your sickness, bring him your trust.” He turned back to Allor.
“I am Gbano, and I thank you again,” said the man. He shook hands with Allor then walked away into the crowd.
A woman with light-colored hair came forward with a young boy at her side.
“Help the boy,” she said in a tone more a demand than a request.
“What is your name?” Allor asked the boy, smiling at him. The boy watched him but didn't respond.
“He can’t talk, can’t hear neither. And that ain’t all. He get shakes and makes a mess of himself sometimes, like he’s got a devil inside of him, twisting him up,” said the woman.
Allor watched the small screen on his machine as it showed “epilepsy” for a brief moment before it faded and changed to a green clean scan. A couple of tix later the boy’s hearing had been corrected, as well as a tear to his large intestine and a scalp disorder that caused most of his hair to fall out.
The boy pulled away from Allor when his hearing was restored.
“It’s OK” he said to the boy in a soft tone. “Don’t be scared.”
The boy relaxed a little when someone began playing a flute off in the distance. He looked for the source of the sound but it was blocked by the crowd.
“Thank you,” said the woman when he was finished. She moved forward and extended her hand containing three coins.
“You don’t need to pay me” Allor said with a smile.
“But you need money to live” the woman replied.
“I steal what I need” Allor replied with a grin.
The woman did a most unCeros thing. She laughed. “Sure you do” she said in disbelief. In fact, the ability to move about undetected along with theft had made Allor one of the richest people on Earth Seven.
The Ceros will never offer money twice and she put the coins into the pocket of her robe.
She turned to leave with the boy.
“You will need to teach him language,” Allor said to her.
The boy made sounds centered mostly around the letter M.
“Let me check your health before you go,” Allor said to the woman, her long hair down to her waist.
“Don’t bother with me. I’ve had a good life. Help the children,” she replied. She put her hand on the young boy’s shoulder and led him away. “Thank you,” she called back to Allor.
This was the fifth healing for Allor. The first time ended in a riot. Now he appeared and healed until the crowd reached several hundred. When it reached thousands, it got unruly, and people got hurt fighting to reach him. Before that he would use his shielding device and disappear.
But Allor had a plan. Healing on the edge of the cities, all day. The main roads into the city would provide a steady stream of travelers instead of the overwhelming crowds of the Lesser. His sister using the other healing machine beside him. Together they could cure a thousand people in a day.
A man stepped forward with a woman beside him. He was large and seemed very fit. The woman avoided looking at Allor. She was young, and her guilt was written in large letters. Allor turned the knob on his uniform a quarter turn.
His motion had finished less than a tix before the large man spoke to him in a loud voice.
“You must die,” said the man as he opened his cloak to reveal a sword in one hand and a short curved knife in the other hand.
Allor didn’t try to get out of his way. He smiled at the man.
“Not this again” Koven said. The last time he did a healing another Ceros assassin had tried to kill him.
The man looked at him angrily. “Submit to Ceros or die,” said the man.
When the man thrust his sword forward to impale Allor, it hit a barrier. Not one he could see, but still one that broke the tip of his sword. The large man swung his knife towards Allor. It too struck the invisible barrier and broke. The barrier was about half a maatar out from Allor.
The woman reached under her clothing and took out a glass bottle containing a clear liquid. She threw it at Allor’s face. It broke into numerous pieces at arm’s length from Allor, and the liquid revealed the soft curvature of the protective perimeter. It burned, bubbled, and hissed as it rolled down the invisible shell around him.
“You are of the devil,” the man yelled at Allor.
“You are of the devil,” Allor repeated, mimicking the man. He was annoyed that healing was being interrupted. “No, I’m closer to your beloved Ceros than you will ever be. He said to be nice to one another. Did you forget that?”
“No. Heathens are to be killed so that only the good people of Ceros live on Earth. Then we will be nice to one another,” replied the man.
“That’s just being lazy” replied Allor.<
br />
The large man swung the remains of his broken sword down on the top of protective barrier. It hit very hard, bounced back harder, and fell from his hands. The broken blade hit the woman at the top of her left leg and cut her deeply as it fell. She screamed and fell to the ground in pain as her blood began to pump from the wound with the rhythm of a severed artery.
“Get out of my way,” said Allor as he moved towards the woman. The man scrambled back away from Allor, who moved very slowly when he got near the woman. He turned the dial on his uniform breast insignia very quickly, turning it left, then an instant later stepping forward to the woman, then turning it back to the right quickly. The healing device was in his hand.
“Don’t take my soul,” she said to Allor with a look of terror on her face.
“I’ll only take your wounds. Be still,” he said. He moved the medical device over her leg. People watched in astonishment as the blood stopped shooting out of the wound then a moment later the wound closed. Within a few tix it was done. The woman tried to squirm backwards away from Allor.
“Be still. I’m not finished with you yet,” Allor said with a smile.
“But I’m finished with you, devil,” she said, and tried to crawl backwards away from him. He grabbed her by the legs.
“Do you want to die from the cough?” Allor asked her.
“How did you know?” she asked him.
Allor turned his device for her to see. “I heard you cough when you first arrived. See this word? It means death if you don’t let me use my machine to heal you.”
On the machine display were ancient words that only Allor, Dubitam and MinKey knew the meaning of. Some words are horrible, and in a world of good would never be necessary. Cancer is one of those words.
“We all die,” she said, still scared of him. “What price do you want, devil?”
