by David Beers
Sesam stood and Yule stepped back. Sesam walked left, toward the room’s window, ignoring the Pope. Yule followed him and looked beyond, past the window at the outside world.
“She saw him,” Sesam said. “The man with the gray eyes. We were running from you, with that psychopath you sent after her. She had me pull over to the side of the road and she said he was standing in the middle of this field. I couldn’t see anything. Just open grass. But she said he was there.”
“The weapon,” Yule said. He didn’t doubt Sesam at all.
“The first time, too. When the sight first came to her. She saw him in our restaurant, though I think it was different that time. I think that was the sight. The second time, in the field … he was watching her. I think he knows she exists; maybe he can feel her.” Sesam didn’t turn around, but kept his eyes on the window. The smoke was still rising outside the Vatican’s walls. Maybe God would smell it, the burning bodies, and send help.
“A lot of people are after your daughter, Mr. Sesam. I’m the only one who doesn’t want to harm her. I won’t lie to you. If we find her, I will use her … to help stop the destruction you see outside. But I won’t harm her. I won’t change her. If it’s possible, I’ll set her loose.”
Sesam was still for a while and Yule finally spoke again.
“Every minute that passes is a minute that your daughter moves closer to the High Priest.”
“I’ll help,” Sesam said. “I don’t know what I can do. The sight hasn’t come to me in a long time. It’s mostly dead. But if I can help, I will.”
Yule’s mind was incorrigible, and he couldn’t help it. He thought about saying a joke he’d heard, one that went back ages and was said in an accent that no longer existed … Ve have vays of making you talk.
Yule grinned, but only for a second. The smoke rising outside his city’s walls wiped the smile from his face quickly.
“We might be able to assist with that,” he said.
“What the hell is all of this?” Daniel asked.
Daniel stood next to a doctor of some sort, Dr. Franklin Lane. The Pope had made the introduction and now the three of them stood in a room that looked as old as the Old World. There were at least another ten people, all working on machines that Daniel might have asked about, but would never really understand.
Daniel sneezed at the dust floating across the room. Seven hours had passed since he agreed to help the Pope, and Daniel hated every single second. He’d been allowed to leave his room, but there weren’t a lot of places for him to go.
“The Most Holy Father will return when he’s finished,” the orderly outside had said.
Daniel saw now why it had taken so long. The walk down here had taken close to an hour, traveling across the Vatican then down what felt like endless stairs.
Daniel knew the lighting in here must have been installed during the past few hours, because no one had entered this room for a long, long time.
The Pope was quiet to Daniel’s question, but Daniel didn’t notice. He only stared with the rest of them at the work being done.
The machines looked as ancient as the room, and Daniel realized that despite the Church’s refusal to update technologically, there had been advances. The machines in front of him looked like they might have been used to torture people.
“What are they?” he asked again, his mind pulling him from the frightening wonders.
“These are from the original experiments,” Dr. Lane said.
“Experiments?” Daniel asked.
“The sight. No one knew what would happen in the beginning.”
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“They’re going to work,” the Pope said. “That’s what these people are here to do. Make sure they work.”
“What exactly is your plan?” Daniel asked, not turning from the machines. It was clear that people stepped into them, and lay back at a slight incline. There were metal casings for the legs, torso, and arms. Extending from the torso was a helmet of some kind—about the only somewhat modern thing attached. It looked like plastic, and obviously just cleaned, as it held none of the dust that floated around the rest of the room.
“We’re going to strap you in and turn it on,” the Pope said.
Daniel looked to him, seeing a slight grin.
The man had a sense of humor, at least.
“Seriously, though, the plan isn’t that far from it. Tell him, Dr. Lane,” the Pope said.
The scientist was closer to the machines, looking at two of the men working on the left one.
“Theoretically, and all of this is just theory, we should be able to amplify whatever sight you once possessed. Your brain still contains the necessary hardware, it just lacks the … power. That’s the simplest way I can put it. Hooking you up to these will let you access your sight again.”
“Access it?” Daniel asked. “I never had the ability to access anything. It came and went on its own.”
“Then I guess we hope it comes now,” Dr. Lane said, not looking over.
Daniel turned to the Pope. “You guys have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
The Pope’s smirk was there, although Daniel thought kindness lay underneath it. “No. Not really. The people that started this didn’t understand much, and the Church hasn’t been involved with it for a long, long time.”
“I’m not even going to ask if this thing will kill me.”
“It’s probably best you don’t. I wouldn’t be able to answer you anyway.”
“Why are there only three? There’s no way you created the sight just three people at a time,” Daniel said.
“There are other rooms like this, but they’re all bricked over. This one was, too, but we excavated it,” the Pope said.
Daniel sighed and looked at the men working on the three machines. Two were at the back wall, dealing with a panel—something else that looked slightly more modern.
“These guys working? How much do they know about it?” Daniel asked.
“More than me,” the Pope said. He stepped closer so that the two stood next to each other, their shoulders almost touching. “I’m joking a lot right now and I apologize. My mind and tongue don’t always do as they should, and though I pray about it, God doesn’t give any indication that he wants to relieve me of this curse. The people down here have been working nonstop for three days, Daniel. We didn’t just start this when you agreed to do it; I’d been planning since the war broke out. These men are quiet now, but I’ve been speaking with them constantly. They say it’ll work. They’re running tests to simulate what it’ll be like with a human being inside, and the tests look good.”
“What about him? Lane?” Daniel asked.
“He gives us more perspective. He understands the science behind the sight—or as much as anyone can. Either way, it doesn’t really matter what anyone says, does it? Because you’ve got to get in that apparatus and try to find your daughter.”
Daniel couldn’t refute it, not a word.
The holy man was right.
“How long until it’s ready?”
“They told me an hour,” the Pope said.
Rhett was being kept awake, and also silent.
At first, he’d fought the Disciple, and the pain had been unbearable. Worse even than the bullet lodged in his shoulder. He quickly decided that struggling was a useless endeavor and quit.
Giving up didn’t take away the awkwardness of it, though. Not at all.
The man Rhett traveled with was somehow controlling his nanotech. He could use some of it or all of it—every last particle floating through Rhett’s bloodstream.
So, it was easy to keep Rhett awake and not talking. Rhett’s mouth simply didn’t move. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t control himself, and that’s why he fought so hard in the beginning. The moment he felt something else gaining control over his body, his mind had revolted, shooting adrenaline out and commanding every muscle to do the exact opposite of what the nanoparticles were telling them.<
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Rhett didn’t know if the man caused the pain, or if his own revolt caused it. Either way, his skin burned, and he could feel nanoparticles pulsing against it—like they would rather break through his flesh than obey his commands.
He’d only thought about running once over the past 24 hours. The man had been carrying the girl, her body lying in his arms like a bride of old, with the three of them approaching a transport.
Rhett had only thought about escaping, and almost instantly, he no longer owned his body. Someone else did. The man next to him. His walk grew stiffer, and for a moment he almost fought it—struggled to gain control again—but remembered the acidic pain that would blast through his body, and quickly banished the idea.
He marched almost like Stellan had across the stage, like a toy soldier. The man had said nothing to him, only kept walking across the field, carrying the woman while controlling Rhett.
Now, in the transport and flying just beneath the clouds, Rhett shuddered at the thought.
The woman slept in the back. She lay across the seat on her back, her hands at her sides, almost like a corpse. Her sleep was unnatural; Rhett didn’t need to be a doctor to understand that. Something was happening with her and Rhett didn’t know if the man beside him was doing it. Or, it could have had something to do with what happened in the motel room. Maybe it was even David, working from afar—but whatever caused her to remain unconscious, she wasn’t simply sleeping.
Rhett had control of himself now, though that didn’t mean much. The man next to him could take it back at any point and Rhett would do well to remember that. Rebecca had contacted him … he only hoped she wouldn’t do it again. The man hadn’t said anything about it, but Rhett thought he knew. Anything to do with nanotechnology … this man was the master of it all.
He didn’t sleep as far as Rhett could tell. They’d been on the move for about five hours, though not flying the entire time. At some points the transport had landed, and Rhett understood why. The Unformed’s war was raging and if someone spotted an unidentified transport, they’d shoot it down.
What Rhett didn’t know was how this man understood when to land.
He glanced over at him, the unknown stranger with strange powers—deadly powers. He only stared forward with cool, calm eyes, as if traveling alone.
Kill her? Rhett thought. That’s what I’m going to do? How, when I can’t even control my own muscles?
“Where are we going?” Rhett asked without realizing he was going to do it. The question in itself was dangerous—anything around this person could be—because the slightest comment might cut Rhett off from his own body.
The man turned his head slightly to the right as if remembering Rhett was next to him.
“You already know, at least you think you do. You told your friend we’re heading to the One Path.”
“Are we?”
The man shrugged.
“What are you?” Rhett asked.
“Do you think knowing will help you accomplish your goal? Will classifying me help you kill this woman?”
Rhett swallowed. He knew everything; not only that Rhett had been contacted, but even his plan.
“It could help,” Rhett said. “If I know what you’re capable of, it could help me make decisions.”
“So,” the stranger said, “I should help you kill me?”
Rhett thought of Rebecca in that moment, how nervous she would have been sitting here with this odd man. Rhett said what he would have said if she were here, to both lighten the mood and perhaps calm her some. “If you’re so inclined.”
“Quid pro quo,” the man said.
Rhett’s head jerked back slightly, a little shocked at the offer. “ … Okay.”
“I’m a Disciple. Do you know what that is?”
Rhett’s head was still tilted back, and his eyes widened now. He knew the term, knew that it meant something like a sect of Priests, but not much else.
“Now you have a name to go with the abilities you’ve seen,” the man said. “My turn. Are you a disciple as well, of the weapon?”
An odd question, and not something Rhett had ever considered.
“I … I guess you could consider me that. I follow him, yes.”
“Which weapon? The one behind us or is there another that started this war? I believe you want to kill her, so I can’t imagine that you follow her.”
Rhett was careful to keep his face from showing anything. This Disciple might have powers Rhett didn’t understand, and he also knew a lot, but clearly key pieces eluded him.
“Don’t lie,” the Disciple said.
Rhett nodded, knowing that he couldn’t. “I follow the other.”
“But you do more than follow him. You would kill for him? He holds you in his trust?”
Rhett nodded again.
“It’s your turn.”
“Why are we going to the One Path?”
“I’m taking her to meet the man I serve.”
“The First Priest?” Rhett asked.
“No. The man he serves too. The High Priest.”
Rhett went quiet. He had heard of the High Priest, much like he’d heard of Disciples—but Rhett had honestly thought him a myth. Just something whispered about to help keep people in line. Rhett couldn’t remember ever seeing this High Priest give a public speech or proclamation.
“Why do you serve him?”
Rhett understood a certain piece of this conversation was rooted in insanity. The Disciple next to him would certainly kill him at some point, yet the questions intrigued Rhett. Why was he asking them? Why was he curious all of a sudden, when for days he’d said nothing?
“Because I’ve seen the power he rules with.”
“It’s power you serve then?” the Disciple asked.
“No. I serve because I understand that the power he wields comes from something else. I serve that. I serve who he serves.”
“But in the end, it’s power, right? Because that power is what you’re following. If the Black didn’t give the weapon his power, you wouldn’t follow?”
Rhett looked forward, thinking through the questions and momentarily forgetting who he was talking to. These were things that he hadn’t asked himself, nor had Rebecca or Christine. They saw David and what he could do, and they followed. His blood flowed through their own, and Rhett simply couldn’t deny the truth of it.
But could he explain it?
“Quit pro quo,” he said, ready to flip the question. “Why do you follow the High Priest?”
A small smirk grew on the Disciple’s face, knowing his question had already been asked, his turn spent.
“I follow because I was made to. I was made to serve the High Priest and thus Corinth.”
“That’s it? You were made to? You weren’t born like me?”
“Quid pro quo,” the Disciple answered. “It’s power you serve in the end, nothing else?”
Rhett shook his head slowly as he stared out the transport’s front window. “No. There’s truth here. There’s truth in the Unformed, and it’s not like anything in the Ministries. There are no statues for It, no canon to follow, no edicts—but yet, we still follow It, because we believe.”
“Faith, then? Like the religions of old?”
Rhett matched the Disciple’s smirk. “I suppose until you see that truth, then you’ll just have to think of it as faith. Faith has nothing to do with it, though, because I’ve seen the truth.”
Rhett looked over to watch the Disciple’s response, and for a second, the two grinned the same.
Then the entire outside of the transport lit up in flames.
Daniel looked at the machine, everyone standing just behind him, but all staring at it.
“I’d ask again if it was safe, but I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s safe,” the Pope said.
“What do I do when I get in it?”
“I don’t know,” Lane said. “We’re sort of flying blind.”
Daniel shook his head. What
could he do? What could he say? He didn’t control his sight anymore and hadn’t for years upon years. No one else in the entire Old World had it, though— at least as far as anyone in this room knew. Daniel either got in this machine, or let Nicki continue on her way to this High Priest. The one with different values.
Christ, he thought. Jesus Christ.
“Will I be able to talk to all of you?” Daniel asked.
“I believe so,” Lane answered.
“But we’re flying blind,” Daniel echoed.
“We are,” the doctor answered.
“Each minute, Mr. Sesam,” the Pope said.
Daniel nodded, understanding. He stepped forward and two technicians moved next to him—at least Daniel thought that was an appropriate title, he really didn’t have a clue if they were technicians or tinkerers.
He climbed into the device that had created people like him—the first person in close to 1,000 years—and hoped he’d be able to talk to his daughter.
Hoped he wouldn’t die.
Nicki Sesam didn’t know what the outside world was doing. She didn’t know that for so many groups, a universe’s entire future hinged on her and her fate. People were looking for her, some to kill, some to help, some to study, and some to use.
Nicki knew none of that, though.
For a while, she had been tossed to and fro, moving from world to world without any concept of time or space. She only knew she was somewhere different from the people and things she encountered. The man with the gray eyes. The man flying high in the transport. Then, she thought she had come back to reality for a second (or close to it), and she’d kept her father from dying.
Nicki was no longer on Earth, at least the part that made her her. Yes, Nicki’s body might have been in the back of a transport, one surrounded by fire and hurtling toward its destruction—but Nicki’s soul wasn’t with it.
She sat where a few others had before. A girl lost to history, a demon woman that the world was taught to fear, and finally a man named David Hollowborne, who the world was just coming to know. History would not forget him, as it had the first, but his legacy had yet to be fully written—just as Nicki’s hadn’t.
