Conquests & Consequences

by Lee Watts

  Immediately, the crowd turned to look at them. With the angry mob glaring at them, Alexander pointed to Jaiden.

  Shouting natives rushed the pair, but Alexander used his blaster to fire a quick trio of shots in the ground, kicking up the dirt. Startled by the blue fire, the brutes stopped. As the crowd parted for the shaman, Alexander lowered his weapon as the priest stepped forward. Glancing at the peculiar weapon, the shaman then turned his gaze to Alexander. Alexander then pointed the pistol skyward and fired once.

  From the hilltop surrounding the village, fires began lighting. Within half a minute, the village was surrounded with fires, giving the impression of many warriors waiting on the ridge.

  Wide-eyed, the Jago looked all around at the ever-growing number of lighting torches. Capitalizing on the initiative, Alexander looked at the priest and pointed to the captives. "LET THEM GO."

  When the priest gestured with his dagger, two big men rushed up the stairs and untied the two women. Hurriedly, they descended and went behind Alexander. Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered, "Now, nice and slow, we're going to walk out of here."

  Keeping eyes on the mass of green-skinned warriors, the four started easing toward the jungle. Holding their ground, the savages looked to their chieftain for orders. His eyes kept darting to the many signal torches on the hills surrounding the village. Cloaked in darkness, the escapees were almost out of the clearing and back into the protective cover of the jungle brush when a voice rang out.

  Though Alexander didn't understand the words, he knew precisely what was yelled, It's a trick, there's no one there! Half a heartbeat later, burning arrows lanced out after the escapees.

  Merrick pushed a cart of hay, starting it down the hillside toward the village. Jago warriors saw something gaining speed as it approached and sent their flaming arrows into it. The cart and its contents burst into flame and with great speed barreled into the village. When the burning cart slammed into a hut, it sent sparks flying in all directions, spreading the fire to many of the thatch roof huts. A second cart came speeding down the hillside and warriors drew their bows to target it, but the shaman shouted, which let them know not to shoot it because it will spread the fire. The cart of hay rolled into the village and bumped harmlessly into a hut forcing it to a stop.

  The shaman smiled smugly for not falling for the same trick twice, but then Marcus and Payton burst from the hay with weapons blazing. The flames and blue light coming from the strangers' weapons caused the entire village to become a scene of great chaos. Jago ran in every direction, some carrying buckets of water, others trying to get their goods from their huts, and a few running into the jungle to get away from the flames.

  Alexander put his hand out to Aulani.

  "That's our cue to run, come on!"

  Taking his hand, the two sped away from the carnage, with Jaiden, Christina, Marcus, and Payton right behind them. The infuriated shaman shouted for warriors to give chase.

  "We never outrun them!" Aulani called as they sped through the jungle.

  "That's what we're counting on," Alexander replied.

  Half a dozen blood-thirsty Jago chased them with hatches in hand, then Merrick and Cale popped up from each side of the trail and using their blasters dropped all six Jago before they even realized they were being ambushed.

  "You should told me!" Aulani protested to Alexander as she pulled her hand from his.

  "There wasn't time. Besides, it was Merrick's idea."

  "The battle isn't always to the strong," the Guardian interjected. "Let's get moving. We need to put as much distance as we can between them and us before daylight."

  "I know island best," Aulani said. "Follow me."

  "Anywhere," Alexander said quietly enough where he thought neither Aulani nor anyone else could hear. He was mistaken.

  CHAPTER 20

  "For our God is a consuming fire." – Hebrews 12:29

  Built hundreds of years prior, Theon, meaning Place of God was once a stone structure encompassing an entire block in Theera's capital city, Paran. Because of significant damage to the ancient edifice some years prior by 'an extremist,' a massive rebuilding effort was undertaken. With Hegemony support, the new Center for Religious Pursuits was now complete. A marvel of modern engineering, the elaborate mega-structure encompassed the very latest in materials and ergonomics.

  In contrast to the simple design of Theon, the Center was a multi-level complex of meeting rooms, offices, gardens, galleries, worship arenas, and more. The construct teamed with symbols from every creed in the known universe. Unseen by the gathered mortals were Dridmor spirits and a fog of dark energy hovering slightly above the ground.

  Vying for a position for the much-publicized opening ceremony, thousands of worshipers packed the Center's plaza. Already in position, Regent Yorin and Administrator Nexos were engaged in private conversation when Chief Mediator Wasi took his place on the official platform. Attending the holy mediator, Timotheus asked Yilib about the roped-off area where hundreds of clergy were beginning to gather.

  "Oh, those are the various faith leaders who will facilitate worship," Yilib explained. "After the opening remarks, I'll invite them to lay hands on the building, and we'll lead the people in prayer."

  Timotheus was confused.

  "Forgive me, but I don't understand. If the others are praying to some other deity, aren't their prayers in vain? By inviting them to pray, won't the people think the Sect is validating those beliefs?"

  "Don't distress, Arbiter. The other mediators and I will speak to the Elder for the people. As for validating the other faiths, as I've matured in spiritual matters and opened myself to the universe. It's as if the universe itself is communing with me. The more I empty my mind and listen to the universe, the more I think we are all praying to the same god. He, or she, I don't think it can really be described as either, takes many forms. It is the power of the universe and reveals itself in the best way to relate to each culture. We are all striving for the full realization of the human spirit. I've come to believe when we die our spirits join the oneness of the universe. We become part of god."

  "But, what about Paradise and the Vortex? Didn't Elkanah say these are real places and there is only one God?" Timotheus asked?

  "Yes, but we must broaden our definitions. As our life energy is freed, our essence joins with the universe. Any evils in a person also become part of that energy, as does good. As evil and hatred crush the spirit so does goodness free it. The essence of each person creates both Paradise and the Vortex. But I've come to understand these are more states of consciousness than actual locations. We are children of the universe; we are the universe."

  Entering the plaza was a gray-clad old man with a tall, metal walking stick. The invisible fog retreated from him as if blown away by some great wind. Each of the Dridmor sprits in the crowd felt the newcomer's presence. They turned to the intruder. Bearing their fangs, some hissed as he passed. Enraged, one of the imps charged the interloper, intending to enter the mortal and rend his body from within. Leaping at the human it slammed into a wall of bright energy, bouncing the spirit backward. Crashing to the ground, the imp shouted in pain as smoke rose from the areas of its body that impacted the barrier.

  "FOOL," shouted the Dridmor Cyketh. "He has a hedge of protection around him. We cannot touch him directly. Why is he here? I was told he was gone."

  Timotheus noticed a stirring of the crowd as all heads turned to the old man passing through the group. The bearded stranger began by loudly proclaiming the Center an abomination and denounced the Regent and Hegemony.

  "Who is this impudent wretch?" Saqir Nexos demanded.

  Salazar recognized the aged figure.

  "Caedmon," he breathed in disgust. "The Heretic, the one who troubles the Realm."

  Caedmon glared at the Regent as if he had heard the soft-spoken words uttered on the other side of teaming crowd. He boomed with a voice not amplified, yet so great that all gathered could hear.

  "
"TIS NOT I WHO TROUBLE THE REALM; BUT THOU AND THY MOTHER'S HOUSE, IN THAT YE HAVE FORSAKEN THE COMMANDMENTS OF THE ELDER AND HAST FOLLOWED OTHER PATHS!"

  Caedmon looked at the assembled throng which was forming a wide circle around him. He regarded them with a mixture of pity and frustration. As his eyes scanned the group, each person felt as though the gaze was directed personally at them.

  "People of the Realm, how long halt ye between two opinions? If the Elder be God, follow His, the Narrow Way: but if another then follow their path."

  As the confused people mumbled, Caedmon's eyes went from the crowd to the stage of religious leaders. One hand on his slender staff, the other outstretched with a weathered finger pointing at the assembled clergy, he invited them near him.

  "Now, therefore, gather here all ye priests of the Hegemony's table and let us show truth."

  Anxious for a chance to disprove and silence the old man, the priests approached. Parting to allow the clergy through, the crowd mumbled in speculation of what was to happen. On the platform, Yilib turned to Salazar and advised him to have Caedmon arrested.

  "Don't," Saqir countermanded. "He is but one man, a minor irritant, but can serve us well."

  "How?" Salazar asked.

  "It's not this Heretic causing dissension in the Realm Province, but what he stands for," Saqir explained. "Look at the people, so easily enticed. We don't need to remove him but instead remove his legitimacy. This radical, fundamentalist Elder movement is in direct opposition to Hegemony goals of equality and diversity. The flame of this faith has dwindled in the galaxy, but the last sparks are proving difficult to extinguish. This Narrow Way," he hissed with disgust, "is an infestation and should be dealt with accordingly. So, let him gather followers. He will expose the members of the movement and make rounding them up all the easier."

  Cyketh realized something was coming and knew he needed to get his people out of the way quickly. Reaching inside Yilib's mind, he transferred the urge to flee to the mortal.

  "Regent," began Yilib, "if we stay, the Heretic will berate us. Answering back will validate him, and we want to make him look insignificant. Perhaps it's better if we leave in 'dignified protest.' We could monitor the situation, and when his compatriots are exposed then send in the security enforcers to arrest them."

  "I'll stay and report what happens," Timotheus offered.

  It was agreed, and the official party's motorcade took them from the scene.

  "I, even I only, remain a voice of the Elder," proclaimed Caedmon, "but these priests are four hundred and fifty! Let them, therefore, call on the name of their gods, and I will call on the name of the Elder: and the God that answereth by fire let him be God."

  The people liked the idea, and the assembled priests, unwilling to back away from the public challenge, accepted.

  "So," Caedmon goaded, "call now on the name of your gods, and let truth be known!"

  Forming a circle, the priests began their prayers. For the next hour, they entreated their various deities to answer with fire. The unseen fog of dark energy formed in a spinning pillar attempting to burst into the physical realm as a tower of flame. Instead of gaining power, the more it spun, the weaker it became. Eventually, it collapsed to the ground, spreading out in lifeless clumps as water poured upon a glass surface.

  The assembled priests continued their petitions, but there was no fire, nor any form of an answer. Showing their devotion, three mediators of the Sect went to the center of the encircled priests offering themselves as sacrifices to be consumed by fire from above, but no fire came. During the prayers, Caedmon mocked them.

  "Cry aloud! Perhaps your gods are talking, or sleeping, or on a journey! Perhaps they do not hear you! Cry aloud! Cry aloud!"

  Incensed, the priests intensified their prayers. Pleading with their gods, some cut themselves in demonstrations of faith. The ground of the circle darkened with a significant amount of blood; more than one cleric collapsed from self-inflicted wounds. At noon, the holiest time of the day for the star-worshiping Hateeg, their priests began ancient chants, calling to the stars, pleading for a sign from the heavens, but none came.

  Shortly past noon, Caedmon proclaimed, "ENOUGH! Draw nigh." The people came near him leaving the rival holy men who quieted to see if the crazed old man could actually accomplish anything.

  The lone voice of the Elder raised his head and with shut eyes prayed, "Elder, God of all and above all, let it be known this day that thou art God in the Realm, and that I am thy servant, and that I have done all these things at thy word. Hear me, O Elder, that this people may know that thou art the only God, and that thou hast turned their heart back to your Narrow Way!"

  Then, with a tremendous and rushing sound as angry waves, a pillar of flame poured as a whirlwind from the sky. Striking the ground as a tornado, it caused terrified priests to flee, but the winds pulled them into the whirling inferno, incinerating them. The pillar roared as the flames spun and consumed everything in its path, including the unseen Dridmor fog.

  Timotheus was forced to grab onto the platform to keep his footing as the land trembled violently from the force of the fiery maelstrom. The people screamed, and many fell on their faces in fear. The twirling pillar of fire howled as it spun and bathed the entire area in waves of heat and shades of red and orange. Debris flew, and Timotheus placed a hand over his eyes to shield them but was transfixed by the cyclone of fire screaming in front of him. The wind howled and his clothes whipped in the powerful gusts. After several moments, which seemed much longer to the terrified crowd, the pillar receded into the heavens, and the sky was again cloudless and calm. With the air now eerily silent, heads slowly raised, and the people surveyed the remains. No one dared speak; the only sound was the building's alarm, which all assumed was set off by the whirlwind. A charred, smoldering hole was all that now occupied the space of the vanished clergy.

  When the people saw how the fire came down, and the glory of the Elder was upon the place, they bowed themselves with their faces to the ground upon the pavement and worshipped and praised the Elder. Then came a voice from the crowd shouting, "Have mercy on me Elder. Mercy!" Then another voice called out, "The Elder, He is God! The Elder, He is God!"

  "People of the Realm," Caedmon preached, "the Elder does not desire sacrifices of flesh or blood or lucre, but of the devotion of heart and abandonment of error. It is the sacrifice of righteousness He seeks! Confess your errors, accept his manifestation Elkanah as your only means to forgiveness, and pledge your life to Him. Through Elkanah is our promise of Paradise and the only hope of escaping the Vortex. The Holy Codex says, If we confess our errors, he is faithful and just to forgive us our errors, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. He promises whosoever shall call upon the name of Elkanah shall be saved! They shall be saved from separation from the Elder. They shall be saved from the eternal, crushing power of the Vortex!"

  As Caedmon pleaded with the people, Timotheus watched in awe as hundreds in the crowd began calling out to the Elder in the name of Elkanah, many falling to their knees, confessing their errors, and pledging their lives to the Elder and His Narrow Way.

  The majority of the crowd gave these people a wide berth and began to disperse. In thirty years of teachings from the Sect, Timotheus never heard someone say he needed anything from the Elder that the Sect did not provide. But now something was offered - a personal relationship with the Elder. He often wished he could see or at least feel in some way the Elder heard his pleas. But the Elder seemed distant and cold to him as if he was too minuscule to warrant the Almighty's attention. But before his very eyes, those becoming Elderites of the Narrow Way seemed to experience the Elder's touch as real as if He were right next to them. Timotheus didn't understand it and wanted to speak with Caedmon, but didn't dare. Instead, he pulled out a small communication device and reported what happened. When Yilib learned Caedmon called fire from the sky that consumed the clergy, he immediately went to the Regent's office. Duchess Yorin was also there.
/>   "Regent, there's been an attack at the Religious Center."

  "An attack?" Mara questioned.

  "Yes, Duchess. It seems The Heretic somehow… incinerated those assigned to the Center."

  "Incinerated?" Salazar asked. "How?"

  "According to reports, he called down a pillar of fire and it… consumed the priests."

  Mara looked from Yilib to Salazar.

  "That can't be right," she spat. "It's some kind of a trick. This is the same holy-roller who convinced Darius to walk out on you and me. If it weren't for him, we would've been a family." Angered, she turned to Yilib. "There's an arrest warrant out for him isn't there?"

  "Yes, Duchess."

  "Then why is he still walking around?"

  "Duchess the previous administration thought-"

  "I don't want to hear about it. It's just like the Lyons to look the other way when it's someone they're connected to. Caedmon wants to have the Elder burn people - fine. Let the gods do the same to me and more if I don't make him pay for what he's done."

  "Yes, Duchess. I'll have the security enforcers arrest him immediately."

  "It's beyond that now. He's committed terrorism. I want him dead. Do you hear me? Dead! By this time tomorrow, I want Caedmon of Tishbia nothing but an unpleasant memory."

  As the Hegemony personnel carrier sped toward the Religious Center, fifty red-armored security enforcers slammed power packs into their weapons in preparation to engage the terrorist. Zooming into the plaza, the back hatch of the vehicle lowered and troops sprinted out. Splitting into their assigned squads, they surrounded the terrorist.

  Startled, many in the crowd screamed upon noticing the Ramillie troops. A few started to run but stopped upon seeing weapons pointed at them. With one hand on his holstered sidearm and another to a loudspeaker, the troop commander stepped beside the vehicle.

  "EVERYONE REMAIN CALM AND STILL," he began. "YOU, THE ONE WITH THE STAFF, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST BY ORDER OF REGENT YORIN. LAY YOUR WEAPON DOWN AND RAISE YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD."