Dust and Ashes: The Apocalyptic Prequel to The Alien Corps (Prosperine)

by PJ McDermott

  Vincenzo frowned. “The Prognostic Cybernetic Network? I will never get used to the idea of a machine wedded to the human brain. That’s one part of the Crusade’s philosophy I have sympathy with.”

  “PROCYN is still a machine, your holiness. When a human being connects with it, it harnesses the brain’s untapped analytic and diagnostic capabilities. In layman terms, it unleashes the unused potential in the brain that scientists have known about for centuries. It doesn’t work the other way around.”

  Rousseau’s eyes sparkled. To his mind, the invention of PROCYN represented the most significant step forward in science since the discovery of the double helix structure of DNA in nineteen fifty-three. Version twenty-three was released with the capability to link several minds simultaneously and unravel problems previously deemed unsolvable. Since the day twenty years earlier when PROYCN was created, the man-machine had invented the cure for cancer, the longevity pill, and interstellar travel to name just three. “It is a brilliant tool,” he said.

  “Brilliant it might be, but is it ethical? The whole process is too God-like for me. I shudder to think what next.” The pope paused and shook his head.

  Rousseau pressed on despite the pope’s reservations. “PROCYN made some predictions on the contents of the box.”

  The pope held up his hand, lifted a tiny silver bell and rang it twice. “Will you take tea or coffee, John? I want you to tell me every detail.”

  The coffee lay untasted on the table as the pontiff began a grueling round of questions lasting more than two hours. He insisted on Rousseau repeating everything twice and probed endlessly on the fallibility of the man-machine process. As Rousseaux was leaving, the pope took him firmly by the arm and swore him to secrecy, instructing him to return a few days hence.

  When the cardinal had departed, the pope rang for fresh coffee and canceled his remaining appointments for the day. He sipped the hot brew and thought deeply about what Rousseau had told him.

  In this year of our Lord, 2096, the Roman Catholic Church was a shadow of its former self. Since the discovery of alien life in Alpha Centauri twelve years ago, it had lost relevance to the community and congregations had shrunk. Its position as spiritual leader to billions had all but disappeared.

  In the western nations, science and technology had displaced God from many people’s lives, and the Church’s political influence had waned dramatically because of it. But it was the emergence of the populist movement calling itself the People’s Crusade that had impacted most on the established religions. With its emphasis on old-testament values, xenophobic attitudes to everything alien and the demonizing of humanistic machines, the cult attracted people of all faiths—Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, followers of the prophet, Muhammad, and many who were previously atheists.

  It wasn’t hard to see its appeal. The tenets of the ‘Crusade’ were a return to a human-centric view of God and a firm rejection of the status quo—especially public administrations who paid lip-service to freedom but practiced a lack of humanity and care for the individual.

  Already the People’s Crusade had taken over the secular governments of some countries including Algeria, Angola, and Belarus. In a devastating blow to the United Nations, France, a member of the Security Council, had recently converted to the new religion. More would soon follow, mused the pope. World revolution was its aim, and its members would stop at nothing to achieve it.

  He shuddered. Once upon a time, that had also been the mission of his Church. He could not simply ignore the less savory aspects of the Catholic Church’s history: the massacre of Muslims in the first Crusades, the near-extinction of South American Indians by the conquistadors, and the tortures of innocents during the inquisition. These had happened in less enlightened times. He hoped and prayed that such things would never return.

  People have little reason to believe in God any longer, he thought. These days when most people thought at all about life after death, it wasn’t the threat of everlasting torment or the promise of heavenly bliss that came to mind. Vincenzo laughed to himself. No, it was much more likely that some romantic denizen of hell would pop into their heads. In modern society, sin had been replaced by the right of the individual to choose, and evil was little more than a philosophical difference.

  Death itself no longer held the fear that it once had. PROCYN-inspired medical advances ensured that people were born healthy, and stayed healthy for longer. The average life span for a human male was one hundred and seventy years. The female was closer to two hundred. This presented problems, of course, which the Crusade was quick to point out. However, space exploration and the pioneering efforts in nearby star systems helped the Earth cope with the resulting increase in population.

  Pope Innocent XIV turned his thoughts to the ossuary. A pity this Battista did not go through proper channels. The Vatican could find itself in very hot water. First century and Christian. If genuine, this would be the earliest evidence of a Christian religion in existence. Considered from that perspective alone, it was of inestimable value.

  However, it was the analysis provided via PROCYN on the carvings and lettering on the front of the box that truly excited him. The man-machine had offered a precise and unambiguous prognosis that the contents were the remains of the Apostle Philip’s family, most likely including Philip himself and his sister, Mariamne. Also, cobalt gamma ray scrutiny indicated the presence inside the ossuary of a small, metallic canister.

  Staggeringly, PROCYN predicted with an eighty-five percent probability that the canister would originally have held a narrative concerning Jesus of Nazareth.

  Vincenzo had no way of knowing whether any part of this had survived or what the specific contents of any document might be, but the potential impact was stunning. It was possible he had in his possession an account of Jesus, written by the hand of one who traveled with him. His mind swirled. If so, he would never relinquish it to the Turkish government. Such a thing was unthinkable.

  Up to now, the earliest surviving evidence of the New Testament had been a tiny papyrus fragment of the Gospel of John generally agreed to date from 125 AD. The first full gospel copy was dated to the fourth century. Scholars widely recognized that this, and subsequent texts, were amalgams of many different stories from many sources.

  Not that this lessened the veracity of the gospels as the word of God. However, if the PROCYN prediction turned out to be accurate, this canister might provide new evidence about a man that for millennia, many had proclaimed to be the Son of God.

  Vincenzo finished the dregs of his coffee and placed the cup in its saucer. He grimaced, not entirely from the bitter taste. It was also possible, he thought, that it would show Jesus as a political agitator or merely a prophet as the Muslims believed. Would the revelation of the contents of Philip’s Box provide a boost for Christianity, or perhaps spell its death knell?

  The potential benefits were great, but so were the risks, that much was obvious. The Church owned fabulous riches, and although these had declined to a tenth of their former worth, the Church was still able to offer succor to the poor and the sick. Would revealing the contents to the world damage this last important service it was able to provide?

  Vincenzo did as he always did when faced with an insurmountable problem. He prayed. He prayed, and he thought, and then he called in the experts. One at a time, and without informing them of the discovery, he elicited their views on the future of the Church and what could be done to arrest its decline. The conclusions were inescapable. Without exception, his advisors stated their belief that the Church was dying and would be dead within the next few generations unless there was divine intervention, which they all prayed for daily.

  PROCYN placed the demise at 2300 AD—in just over two hundred years time, plus or minus ten percent.

  *

  Portraits of saints and martyrs gazed down at the public opening of the ossuary in Clementine Hall. Frescos of the theological virtues, Faith Hope and Charity, looked across the gallery at the
ir Cardinal counterparts: Prudence, Justice, Fortitude and Temperance.

  In contrast to this demonstration of centuries-old tradition and ritual, Philip’s Box lay on a stainless steel table inside a climate control chamber—a clear glass cage erected in the middle of the hall.

  When the audience settled, the pope entered and welcomed his guests who included members of the media, academia, and a few representatives of royalty and state from several countries around the world. He had also invited Alberto Battista and his young companion Talya to attend, and they sat at the back nervously clutching their hands. The pope felt a little vexed that the audience wasn’t larger, but smiled and nodded his head to all. “I have asked for the doors to be locked so that none is tempted to leave before we have had time to review the contents of the box adequately.” He chuckled. “Although I feel sure none would be so tempted.”

  The journalists grinned back. If there were any way for them to gain a competitive advantage, they would jump at it, and the pope knew it.

  “Cardinal Rousseau will introduce the archaeology team tasked with opening the ossuary.” He nodded to Rousseau, who turned on his communicator and cleared his throat.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, walking around the perimeter of the Perspex chamber. “We are all of us privileged to be here. This is one of the most significant days in the history of Christianity—indeed of humanity. Today we will take a peek at what it was to be a follower of Jesus Christ at the time he was conducting his ministry in Israel. Before you, on this table, lies the ossuary or ‘bones box’ of St Philip, one of the twelve apostles of Christ. Needless to say, we have subjected the ossuary to intense scrutiny, and it is certainly authentic.”

  Rousseau reiterated the significance of the carvings and letterings on the box, then introduced Alain Hussain, and his team. “Professor Hussain is the Jacob M. Alkow Professor of Archaeology at Tel Aviv University and is also the co-director of excavations at Megiddo in northern Israel. He is widely acknowledged as the foremost expert in early Christianity alive today. In 2089, he was the first archaeologist to be awarded the Nobel Prize for his work combining DNA analysis and particle physics to prove Darwin’s theories on human evolution.”

  The audience applauded the diminutive man standing hunch-backed in the middle of the room. Hussain wore a loose, sterile bodysuit to minimize the opportunity of bringing harmful bacteria into the chamber and a pair of dark framed glasses. The Professor signaled to his team to take up their places at either end of the rectangular cage. He spoke quietly, and with a thick Austrian accent.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, the maker of the ossuary—I do not doubt he was a talented stone mason in his day—has dovetailed the lid of the box into the walls, forming a snug fit. Molten lead was then channeled into holes on the top, flowing into the hollowed out cavities inside the walls.” He paused and pointed at the giant holographic projection to illustrate his point. “When this metal solidified, it made an airtight seal unusual in antiquity in my experience. Most of the nails are intact, and we must make sure we do not damage the ossuary when we remove them. So,” he said, selecting an instrument from the table, “we will use controlled pressure and heat to extract them.” One by one, he removed the fasteners and then prized the heavy lid free.

  Hussain peered into the receptacle. The camera hovered above, its view partly obscured by his shoulder. When he stood back, the audience could see two skulls amidst other human remains. Near one corner, the light picked out a dull, rectangular shape.

  It took half an hour to remove the bones from the ossuary, but the excitement in the room did not diminish. Speculation mounted on the nature of the rectangular object.

  Finally, Professor Hussain lifted out the item and held it in front of the cameras. “The canister is well preserved and seems to have suffered only minor corrosion.” He placed the container in front of an optical spectrometer, turned the machine on, and studied a computer wall. “I can confirm the material is bronze and approximately three-sixteenth of an inch thick. Extraordinary,” he said. “The seal appears intact, and there are light markings, possibly Aramaic, on the outside.”

  He signaled to one of his assistants, who inserted the cylinder in an orbital torque wrench. The machine rotated, its ultra-high frequency vibrations invisible to the onlookers. Slowly, the cap unwound.

  Hussain accepted the open canister. Gently, he extracted a roll of papyrus, bound with a pale, rose-colored ribbon. A simultaneous exhaling of breath arose from those watching, followed by excited chatter and the buzz of journalists and recording equipment. Even though PROCYN had forecast such an outcome, there was much relief and back-slapping around the room.

  The scientist took the manuscript in both hands and turned towards the pope. “Your Eminence, the scroll of Saint Philip.”

  Vincenzo’s heart beat furiously, but he showed no outward sign of his turmoil save a slight flush on his temples. Here was the defining moment. Would the document prove to be the resurrection of his Church or its death knell? He stared at the scroll holding the answers to his questions. Even at this stage, he could if he wanted to, keep its provenance secret. There would be disappointment from those present, but no reasonable person would blame him for being cautious. He glanced towards Rousseau. The cardinal’s eyes shone, reflecting his faith in God’s purpose and his confidence in Science. The Supreme Pontiff felt his mortality keenly at that moment and begged his Father’s forgiveness for his human frailty. He motioned Hussain to continue.

  Hussain inserted the still bound scroll into the digital scanner connected to PROCYN. In the middle of the room, a hologram of the scroll slowly unfurled, and the Aramaic script of the first page became visible, then resolved into modern English for all to see.

  This is a testimony of the life and crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth, who was the Christ. I, Philip, his disciple, bore witness to these events and inscribe them here for the salvation of future generations.

  Vincenzo’s vision blurred. His steadfastness had been vindicated. The testimony of an eye-witness! He felt overwhelmed that the Father had chosen him for this historic moment. He, the humble son of a farmer from the small peasant village of Rango in the Bleggio Highland would oversee the unveiling of the most significant manifestation of the Word of God discovered in over two thousand years. He drew in a deep breath.

  “Alain,” he said, “the world is in your debt. We thank God for your skill. Please replace the manuscript in the container. A thorough analysis of the contents is required, and I ask if you would lead this investigation?”

  The swarthy archaeologist grinned and nodded his assent.

  The pope smiled at him and continued, “It is also vital that we preserve the document for posterity, as Philip intended.” He turned to the assembled host. “Thank you all for your attendance. I am sure you agree that our patience has been amply rewarded. Our priority now is to preserve the scroll. We must also treat the remains of Philip and his family with respect. We will distribute copies of the letter of Saint Philip through regular channels in the fullness of time. Cardinal Rousseau will assist Professor Hussain in translating the contents and in that way we will ensure both theology and science are served.” He inclined his head towards Battista and Tanya, then departed the room.

  *

  “You are certain of this? There is no mistake? Hussain agrees?” Vincenzo’s breath came rapidly, making it difficult for him to speak. The two professional teams had been working independently on the Letter of Philip and had come to the same conclusions.

  “There is no doubt, Father. In every essential respect, except this one passage and some very minor details, the anthology in Philip’s story is in accord with the canons of the Church. Every story of Jesus contained therein can be found in one or other of the synoptic gospels, though as might be expected, Philip does not include every story.”

  “That is understandable. Philip wrote what he was witness to, not what others told him. If Philip’s writings pre-date
the earliest known gospel compilations, as seems likely, his writing would have been an important source for the other gospel authors. Tell me again—the exact text of the paragraph about the second coming.”

  Rousseau consulted his notes though it was unnecessary. He did not doubt the translation. The words were clear and not open to any other interpretation. Unlike some other scribes, Philip did not resort to allegory or parables to get his message across. The import of the message caused Rousseau’s voice to squeak. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “The passage in question comes after Jesus speaks of the end of the world and before the parable of the fig tree. Many of the apocalyptic verses warning against abominations and false prophets that you find in the other Synoptics are missing. In their place is this.” He inhaled deeply through his nose and continued.

  “‘And Jesus said, at the end of days, the Lord of Light will return to all the worlds of the universe, and in each world He will gather up the true believers and lead them to this Earth where they will be united with the righteous, both the dead and the living, and they shall dwell with the Father and His Sons for all eternity.’” He fell silent and placed his notes on the table.

  Vincenzo took his time before responding. There was much to digest. Since the discovery of the first inhabited planet twelve years ago, eight others had been found. The UN had just created the Intragalactic Agency to foster trade relations between them and Earth. A human colony had also been successfully established less than five years ago in Alpha Centauri.

  How incredible that Philip’s gospel turned up at this particular point in time.

  If he believed Rousseau, the scope of the gospel story had just taken a dramatic upswing. The implication was that the Lord of Light, the Messiah, was not unique to this world; that there were true believers—however one defined that when talking about alien species—living on distant planets and that the savior was a universal phenomenon.