Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One)

by Trey Copeland

  "Nothing I have done has changed any of the truth behind those lessons," Janison replied with weak conviction.

  "Save it for some other puppet! I have learned the only lesson that will ever matter from you or your make believe prophet. Shame on me if I ever have to learn it again." Antone straightened, brushed his hands down the front of his sport coat and popped his starched, white collar.

  Once composed, he addressed Janison in the same tone reserved for a disrespectful underling. "Let’s get a few things straight. Stalling trusts you, I do not. I don't begin to think I understand the layers of experiences the two of you share that would result in your return. If Stalling says we need you to pull off this final step, then so be it. And once we are done," Antone paused with a coy smile, "well, nobody knows better than you do just how irrelevant your fantasy will have become to the world."

  Janison watched Antone walk back out the narthex without another word. "On the contrary my friend, once we have completed our mission, Leviatus and his teachings will mean more to the world than ever before," Janison said to the empty chapel before turning to follow his old friend.

  *****

  "Vital signs are perfect," Tallison reported. "The rest of the body checks out perfect as well: muscle mass, up 23%; bone density, up a 17%; all biological systems displaying continual improvement in both functionality and performance. Brain activity is normal, at least for him. I see the anomaly you were talking about but not sure what to make of it. Regardless, I don't see how it will impact the procedure."

  Physically, he is twenty years younger and most likely the most superior human specimen in history, Jennifer observed with a certain pride. She quickly tampered the rise of her self-esteem, reminded that Muzar’s anatomical improvements, no matter how wonderful, were but a secondary byproduct of the project. Completing the primary objective had yet occurred.

  "Excellent," Jennifer replied as she closed out the three dimensional image of Tallison's analysis being projected from her visor resting on the table. "As always, your thorough attention to detail has proved vital in double checking my work."

  "Well I'm glad you feel that way because most of the time I feel pretty useless."

  "I don't blame you for feeling that way and believe me, there are plenty of days I wish I could have you do more," she said genuinely, patting the young scientist on the arm.

  "Don't get me wrong, this has been a dream position. The knowledge both you and Mr. Alterian have entrusted with me over the past six years has been overwhelming. I have learned things that....well...I am still processing."

  "Trust me, your day of being able to piece it all together is fast approaching. And when that time comes, your days of idleness will feel like a distant dream," she informed her trusted assistant with a broad smile. And I will truly be glad to unload every bit of it.

  "Well I am ready and able," she said enthusiastically.

  Jennifer uncrossed her legs and stood up. Tallison matched the movement and turned to face her superior. Jennifer could not help but notice the way Tallison had been looking at her since she arrived, making her conscious of her altered appearance. Gone were the functional body suit, bland lab coat and comfortable running shoes her assistant was used to seeing her in every day. In their place, she wore a tailored lab coat—typically reserved for rare public appearances—over a stylish white blouse, a pencil skirt stopping just above the knee and chunky heals. In addition, she had styled her short hair into a chichi wave, and touched up her eyes and lips with a little make-up.

  The slight dilation in Tallison's pupils and the out of character shy demeanor in her assistant amused Jennifer and was an unexpected but welcome ego boost. She had been vicariously living, socially at least, through her understudy who was only a few years younger than she was. From their frequent conversations over lunch or coffee, she had developed a healthy envy of Tallison's life as a single women living in a town primarily populated with the most up and coming and talented professionals and scientist the world had to offer. Jennifer wanted to believe, if given the same opportunity, she would have sampled the same diverse pool of possible companions with the same reckless abandon as had Tallison over the years. But, alas, her true feelings would surface, reminding her why she made the choices that she did.

  Sensing Jennifer's detection of her inability to hide her thoughts, Tallison spoke frankly. "You look beautiful."

  "Thank you Tallison," she said, graceful in her acceptance of the compliment. "You don't think it’s too much?" she inquired, welcoming the other women's opinion.

  "No, not at all. It is all very professional. It's just that I haven't seen you..."

  "Much outside this lab," she said, finishing her sentence.

  "Exactly. I can say one thing for certain, if you should ever decide to 'get out there', the rest of us will be reduced to your seconds."

  Jennifer blushed at the compliment, surprised by the vulnerability it exposed. "Your flattery is too kind but I will take it all the same." Both shared a laugh that settled into a comfortable silence for several seconds before Jennifer looked her friend in the eye and rubbed her arm affectionately. "Thank you Tallison. For everything."

  "It has been my pleasure."

  "Alright," Jennifer said, reaching for her link visor and tucking it into the top of her hair. "We are done here for now. Update Stalling, Antone and Janison on our latest analysis when they arrive before sending them on to meet me in the mainframe."

  "Understood. Good luck," Tallison said, giving Jennifer's arm an affectionate rub of her own.

  Jennifer used the five minute walk down the server farm's main passage to cool her recently stirred libido. The cool temperatures of the subterranean chamber helped but she remained flushed and out of sorts by the time she reached the entrance to the mainframe.

  Intellectually, she acknowledged the feelings she had for a man she barely knew to be both adolescent and irrational. No one knows how he will have changed upon his return but it does not take a romance novelist to predict the last thing on his mind will be asking me out for a drink. Still, she would not deny the fact that the only reason she chose to change her appearance today was in the hopes that somehow her long in the making crush on Muzar Tarcones would materialize into something tangible and reciprocated.

  Dark tinted, glass paneled double doors parted at her approach and she entered the small annex room. Still distracted by the foreign emotions swirling in her heart, she absently stared at the wall before her as the doors sealed behind and patiently waited for the room to be sterilized, barely noting the slight increase in air pressure and subtle hiss of invisible gas pumped from the ceiling vents. A minute later, a green light appeared above and the wall slid open to provide entrance into the mainframe.

  Lighting from the floor panels activated as she stepped into the circular room. The black, biometric walls sparkled with life as their gel-filled centers transmitted the trillions of data packets per second between the servers outside and the three supercomputers centered in the room. The cylindrical, eight-foot tall computer towers formed a ten square yard triangle of space in the middle of the floor. Jennifer placed her link visor back on, promptly walked over to a spot in-between the southern two towers, interfaced with the virtual control panel, entered the encryption code and then proceeded to punch in a sequence of procedures.

  Once done, she took a deep breath and stepped back. Seconds later the floor space centered between the computer towers became transparent, revealing a storage chamber within. The rectangular chamber slowly rose to knee level before coming to a halt.

  Every day for the past decade, Jennifer had remotely observed the contents of the chamber. Now, having entered the hermetically sealed mainframe for the first time in ten years, seeing things in person generated a response she could not have anticipated and, as if her recent emotional state were trying to warn her, it was an experience she was ill prepared to process.

  *****

  "Our thoughts form deep channels in the mi
nd," Stalling confidently stated to the auditorium packed with skeptical authorities. "This phenomenon has been well documented for the past twenty years by many of you here today. Why then do we balk at the idea of manipulating it to our advantage, to do our bidding? Not only do I stand here before you today proposing Drakarle prioritize the development of such technology, I say we, as the world's leaders, are morally obligated to do so."

  Dramis Clortison paused the archived video and yelled over his shoulder to no one in particular. "If we had listened to the arrogant bastard back then, we could have avoided a great deal of anguish." Stalling was naive back then, enough so that we could have convinced him the Church was aligned with his vision. By the time he learned otherwise, it would have been too late.

  Dramis cut his conniving short and continued to study the determined face of the then twenty-three year old Stalling paused on the larger than life wall panel. But we underestimated him, more than once. Maybe the innocent intentions conveyed in this first of many public appearances were simply the first calculated move. He hit play, anxious to uncover the evidence that would affirm the hunch appearing the moment Janison surprised them with their unexpected gift.

  "This is all fantasy. There is no existing technology to support any of what you propose. Neocortex entrainment? Physiological communications? Virtual networks? Maybe you ought to consider a career in writing science fiction and leave the real science to those prepared to put in the hard work it requires." A loud mumble of agreement followed by a raucous laughter erupted with Dr. Florentine's critical retort.

  The young Stalling stood taller as he straightened his arms resting on the podium, allowing the din to settle.

  He really was the perfect poster child for all outward Drakarlean appearances, Dramis mused. Slim, tall, athletic with a rugged handsomeness, at twenty-three, his supple youth, far from reaching its apex, openly defied the toils inflicted by the physical world. Blue-gray eyes sparkled with a thriving intellect that commanded respect and intrigue. Persuasive charisma, probing genius and the sole heir to the most influential and wealthy family in all of Drakarle's rich history, Stalling had all the tools to be one of the greatest leaders of the modern era.

  Showing patience beyond his years, Stalling waited long enough for the silence in the room to become uncomfortable before responding. "One's life is only limited by their ability to be independent of the good opinion of other people," Stalling quoted from the book of Drestan.

  What a clever boy. Florentine never did figure out if he had been complimented or insulted, but it shut him up all the same.

  "Technology is not something to be observed from the protective confines of a lab, like a caged animal," Stalling continued with his lecture. "Technology is an extension of life; it selfishly wants us to grow, to accelerate our diversity. With the proper guidance, we can and should leverage the energy inherently captured in our current information processes, within the piles of data we so cautiously study."

  Clortison fast-forwarded through the next forty minutes as scientist and engineers from varying fields bantered back and forth with Stalling. None, as he recalled, made any significant dent in his theories. As he did so, the visceral response felt that day while observing quietly in the back of the auditorium stirred from the murky depths of memory. How, within a few minutes, Stalling's palpable magnetism had distorted the reality of the situation, consciously applying his assured communication skills to alter opinions and beliefs forged over a lifetime.

  Yes, my instinct on Stalling Alterian at the time was spot on. He was a dangerous threat in need of termination.

  He hit play again as the camera swung to the back of the room and focused on his imposing figure, a young Cardinal dressed in a fitted beige cassock trimmed with dark green piping and buttons. I was a strapping bastard back then, Dramis thought with a mix of admiration and disappointment as he unconsciously pinched the inches of his portly midsection. I was still playing two or three pick-up games a week back then, one of many sacrifices I have had to make....

  The camera had turned to him in response to his boisterous question. "What of God Mr. Alterian? How do you intend on consulting the Almighty about your plans to alter his most coveted creation?" Much as he had that day, Dramis relished the cowed reactions of those seated in the room at the sound of his booming, authoritative voice that had immediately seized the crowd into a deferent hush. Stalling's enchantment had gone on too long; the time had come to crack the whip and remind everyone of their true reality.

  The camera moved back to Stalling as he addressed Clortison's loaded question. "I apologize if what I propose derogates the Almighty and/or his ecumenical leadership," Stalling stated, sounding more annoyed then apologetic. "But I assure you, every one of my concepts was contrived in the same spirit that has allowed Antium's scientific community to flourish over the centuries."

  "Really? Please enlighten us as to how your heretical musings are aligned with the Savior and his Father, the one and only true God."

  "According to the Gospel of Leviatus, chapter 6, verses 1-2: ‘And God told his chosen people, I am whole and unbroken. I am both lever and rock. I am both water mill and river. All souls will be nourished from my unbroken wholeness.’"

  Yes, we have leaned on that scripture to justify more than once the continual redaction of our laws to fit the contemporary needs of society. Most recently evidenced, and the precedent Stalling so aptly referenced, when Drakarle devised a way to both capitalize on and foster the budding Age of Science that Antium had naturally reached over two centuries ago. It was the solution enabling us to both support the popular veneration growing around the laws of science at that time and, to this day, provide the scientific population a sense of purpose.

  "True, the scripture tells us the laws of science are His laws but let us not lose sight that science remains beholding to the Savior's one and only divine law: 'Through me, be delivered to our father and his eternal kingdom; for I am the wellspring that nourishes the soul with his endless love.'"

  "Your vision of the future encourages man to find salvation through the self versus the unwavering acceptance of Leviatus as your savior. Need I remind you of the many who have suffered the rack for the propagation of ideas arguably less blasphemous?"

  "With all due respect, I believe my vision of the future to reflect the very foundation of what Leviatus taught us which was to strive toward becoming one with God himself."

  There it was! The drama that ensued immediately after that bold statement, resulting in Stalling's exile for the next decade, was all Dramis had recalled about his first encounter with Stalling. "To become one with God," Dramis repeated to himself out loud.

  Until now, none of the information Janison provided was very useful. Sure, they could study the science behind it all and in a decade or so reengineer some of it to call it their own. But none of it revealed the mysterious power driving it all, the key behind Stalling reaching his true objective. Stalling knew good and well when he decided to play within the rules, despite the public support and popularity he had garnered over the years that the C.O.S. would pull the plug in the end and take over. Janison's intel, at first glance, simply appeared to give us a head start on the inevitable.

  "No, the clever boy has played us from the start, letting our own momentum do most the damage," Dramis said, causing a stir amongst his cabinet members seated behind him. "If not for my instinct to bluff this morning, we would have mortally impaled ourselves on his spear. For that matter, I have no doubt Janison's betrayal was all part of the plan. But it is you that has underestimated me this time Stalling Alterian. It is I who will make the last move and use your life's work to make us stronger than anyone could have ever imagined. Somebody get me Thortizan!"

  Chapter 15

  Steffor shivered as clammy sweat rolled down his back and smeared into the cold, jagged rock. Exhausted, laboring to catch his breath, he could back up no further. Rock walls elevated high above and surrounded him on each side. In front of
him, the gruesome mob blocked his only escape.

  Why do they hate me? What did I do to deserve such malice?

  Despite his questions, the evil intentions displayed on the haggard faces did not change. The leader, a vile creature barely resembling his human heritage, seeing Steffor trapped, turned to the rest of them with arms raised like an ape and let loose a grisly roar. The blood lust rose to new heights and Steffor sensed his end was near. How it came at this place, under these conditions, was unclear but the outcome seemed unavoidable just the same.

  Out of primal reflex, Steffor crouched low and put clenched fists in front of his face, prepared to fight to the end. For the first time he noticed the blood. Some of it was his own oozing from multiple gashes along his knuckles, the bone exposed and jutting out on several. To his horror, looking down the length of his arms and torso, he realized most of the blood came from others.

  Gory images of his recent past emerged in rapid succession. He recalled, standing in the middle of a dark, damp cave, grotesque bodies hurled at him from all angles as he fought to survive: fists caving one face in after the other, the nauseating sound of precise bone crushing kicks, powerful arms snapping the neck of any creature foolish enough to get too close. The destructive images, the pure hatred emanating from the horde, the stench of blood and guts dripping down his face; Steffor lost control, doubled over and vomited.

  What have I become? How could I commit such horrors? I am here to help create life, not destroy it!

  The will to fight gone, Steffor slid down the rock wall and wept. Confused by their adversary's abrupt change, his enemy paused for a brief moment. Then, as of one mind, they lurched and consumed him.

  *****

  "The link remains severed," the foreign voice said.

  "How can that be," Vejax asked. "Did the death of Tillamund also destroy the Mysticnet?"