Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree)

by Marshall S. Thomas

  "He sounds like a renaissance man."

  "He's a jack of all trades. We like him. We all like him. He's cheerful and pleasant, never complains, shows up early and leaves late. He's a perfectionist and won’t stop until the job is done."

  "I'm glad he's found his niche in life."

  "Now. You've seen his school record."

  "Yes. Not so impressive."

  "And you know his IQ."

  "Yes."

  "So the request does not surprise you?"

  "No. Anyone can apply. We try not to be judgmental about individuals. Even those with low IQs. Things have changed since the old days. Society continues to evolve. There are only two requirements, now. First, does he make a contribution? Second, can he pass the exam?"

  By then we were standing in the main lobby, on a floor of glassy green granite, surrounded by decorative columns cleverly carved to look like palm trees.

  "There's no doubt that he makes a contribution," I said. "An important contribution. This is a very important installation and he keeps it functioning smoothly, allowing the rest of us to do our own tasks without distractions. He's honest, he works hard, he has respect for others and for himself. He knows his limitations but he's not bitter about it. He's proud of what he does. It's honest labor. That's what ConFree is all about, isn’t it?"

  "Absolutely. But I wonder – can't the lifies do anything to improve his mental condition?"

  "I was told they have examined him, and they are continuing to research possibilities. Whatever that means," I said.

  "All right. Well, if you and your colleagues believe he is making an important contribution, we'll assume that requirement is fulfilled. One more question. Was the application strictly his idea, or was he encouraged to do this?"

  "It was entirely his idea. He came to me saying he wanted to do it. I was surprised, but after a bit of basic research I realized there was no reason he could not submit the application. I advised him of that, and he did it."

  "So there's only the exam. It's not that hard, really. He either knows the material or he doesn't. But it's an absolute prerequisite. If he doesn't know the answers we can't pass him."

  "Oh, he knows it all right. He knows it cold. I've been going over the material with him. He's got it."

  "Then there should be no problem."

  "There is a problem."

  "Oh? What's that?"

  "Let's sit over here," I said. I chose a table near the snack bar and pulled up a chair. He joined me.

  "Fred is not good in testing environments," I said. "You've seen his school grades. If he gets nervous it doesn’t matter if he knows the material or not, he's going to blow the test. He'll just freeze up and shut down. I've seen him do that. He blew the janitorial supervisor exam, even though he knew the material."

  "I don't know what I can do about that," Korchak said. "All I can do is give him the test."

  "Actually there is something you can do. If he thinks you are a friend of mine, who is going to go over the material with him to better prepare him for the test, then he's going to be very positive and anxious to succeed and show you how much he's learned. However, if he knows you are the man who is giving him the exam, he’ll crash and burn. Guaranteed. But it's a simple oral exam, right? Ask him the questions in that spirit and see what he knows – like a friend would do. If he answers satisfactorily he passes, right? Can you do that?"

  Korchak looked at me thoughtfully, then responded. "Sure. I can do that. If he knows the answers, he passes. Sure. It's a little unusual but we can do that."

  "Great! Come with me. I'll take you to the cube where Fred and I usually study the material."

  Δ

  "Fred! Good to see you. Come on in," I said. Fred was a stocky Outworlder with a clear, clean-shaven face, hazel eyes, short blond hair and a green janitor's outfit. He was carrying his study guide, a little handbook.

  "Fred, this is my buddy, Jan. Jan took the exam several years ago and knows all about it. He can help you with the preparations."

  "Pleased to meet you, Fred," Jan said, shaking hands.

  "Nice to meet you too," Fred said.

  "Fred, you know I'm convinced that you're ready for the test but I want Jan to also talk it over with you," I said. "If he agrees that you're ready, we'll go ahead and schedule the test, and I know you'll do well. So please talk it over with Jan and show him what you know. Is that all right? Do you know the stuff now? Are you confident?"

  "Oh sure. It's easy. I know it all."

  "Good. Good. All right, I've got another meeting now," I said. "You can ask Jan what his test was like, and show him what you've learned. I'll be back in a bit."

  "Yes sir," Fred said.

  Δ

  "So you took this exam a few years ago?" Fred asked Jan.

  "That's right. But it's basically the same exam. I've seen the new one – the one you've been studying."

  "It wasn't so hard, right?"

  "No – you just have to study it and make sure you know the answers. Prophet said you're all set. So do you think you know the answers?"

  "Yes, I do. I've studied hard. I know all the questions and all the answers. My only problem is that I get all nervous when I take an exam. Very nervous. That's what my problem is."

  "Well, there may be solutions to that. First let's talk about these questions. The first one, Foundation. What did the Founders see when they first approached the Outvac?"

  "That's easy! They saw a gigantic cross in the vac – a beautiful, starry cross. And that was the Legion cross. And it was like it was calling them on. So they headed for it."

  "Perfect! And where did they first settle?"

  "They settled in the Crista Cluster. That was the cross. The first world was Quaba. This one! And then they went on to the others."

  "Exactly right. They were refugees – running away from something. What were they running from?"

  "Slavery! They were slaves, running away from the System!"

  "Prophet is right, you know this material all right. And what did they want for their families?"

  "Freedom! They wanted freedom for themselves. They wanted their own worlds. They didn't want to be slaves anymore."

  The questions continued. And Fred was perfectly relaxed.

  Δ

  We called Fred into the conference room the following day. Everybody was there. He didn't know what it was all about. We told him to wear his formal uniform, so he did that. When he entered the room we were all in place and burst into applause. He appeared stunned to be the center of attention. When I brought him over to stand next to the Professor, he whispered to me, "Did I do something wrong?" I assured him he hadn't.

  The Professor was our installation commander so it was appropriate that he should make the presentation. The Prof was a young Legion trooper just like us but he was not really just like us. He was a lot better educated, he was morally superior to us all, and he was one of the most courageous men I'd ever met. And I'd met a lot by then. He had olive skin and dark hair and a slight physique. He appeared to be a mild-mannered bookworm but he was a fanatic warrior who was afraid of nothing if he thought he was in the right. And he was always in the right. I never did figure out what race he was but that didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it produced superior people. The Prof had risen from an enlisted grunt to a full Commander in four years of hair-raising combat and mind-numbing intellectual challenges. The Prof wore the combat cross and the blood badge on his blacks. It meant he had fought and bled for ConFree. So he was the right man for this presentation.

  "Fred," he said, "I am proud to present you this certificate from the Confederation of Free Worlds. We are all very proud of you." He handed a large, framed document to Fred. "Please read it, Fred," he said.

  The document read:

  Fred appeared a bit confused at first and stared with surprise at the document. Then he choked up and just stood there holding the frame and nodding to everyone awkwardly.

  "Thank you," he said. "Thank you.
Thank you all. Sir, are you sure this is right? I haven't taken the test!"

  "You took the test yesterday, Fred," I said. "And you passed with honors. Congratulations, Fred. You're a citizen!"

  "Really? That was the test? I thought he was just preparing me for the test."

  "No, that was it. You passed it. How do you feel?"

  "How do I feel? Wow! A citizen. A ConFree citizen! I feel…I feel like I rule the galaxy!"

  Chapter 2

  Reloading

  "All right, boys and girls, let's see where we are," the Professor said. We were in a little meeting room, five of us, the Prof, me, Saka, Ice and Bees. We were relaxing in airchairs around a table that was pre-stocked with dox, tea and snacks. I was enjoying the dox, a smoky, dreamy Quaba brew I had never tried before. "We've now been here almost three weeks," the Prof continued. "And we've settled in. I hope you are all satisfied with the accommodations."

  "It's far better than we deserve, Prof," I said. "Remember Paula the psycherchick? She told us we were far too happy on Pandaravos to have meaningful paranormal visions of the future. Calm down and get miserable, she said. I still think she was right. All our visions were made under great stress."

  "Yes, she may be right, but Galactic Information wants you folks to be happy," Prof said. "And I believe they're right, too. This environment is meant to ensure that you are given maximum opportunity to develop your innate talents in a controlled, pleasant environment. So – any initial comments? We'll be initiating the formal program shortly, but there's nothing really formal about it. It's more like an exploratory program. And it will be adjusted as necessary. Ice, let's start with you."

  Ice was a lovely pale-blonde honey who still bore signs of the extensive scarring that resulted from when she was killed by shrapnel on Galinta. Her golden hair was slowly growing out around the scalp scars and a few more sessions with the gro-gel should have her achingly beautiful face back to normal. I still recalled those events with horror and shock. It was hard to look at her without feeling love for her and love for the alien Brights who had raised her from the dead on the battlefield, and a blind, burning hatred for the alien Demons who had killed her.

  "It's been quiet for me," Ice said. "I still have some strange, murky dreams, but no visions. I agree with Prophet, I know he's worried that we will not be able to produce, and we'll waste all those taxpayer credits that the Legion is pouring into this installation."

  "You let me worry about that, please," the Prof said. "I have faith in you all. You have all shown us astounding talents, and saved countless lives with your visions."

  "I haven't had any visions," Bees said. Bees was a slender young Cyrillian girl. She was lovely – a tall, classical beauty with black satin skin that still showed signs of the third degree burns that had almost killed her on Vezhedak. The Brights had saved her life, too, and she now shared the same DX alien brain structure that had appeared in brainscan results for me, Saka and Ice.

  "No," Prof replied. "Not yet. But you've got the DX and you have displayed astounding telepathic abilities. You were reading random Bright thoughts on our journey to Veda – like I read a news scan. We're going to develop that, and you're going to read the future, too. See? I can predict future events as well." The Prof smiled. Of course he did not have Dimension X in his brain like we did but he was so smart he probably did not need it.

  "But how will I know if it’s a DX dream?" Bees asked.

  "You'll know," Ice replied. "My vision of the D air attack on Valhalla was so realistic and scary it put me into shock. I was right there, running in terror, and the antimats were blasting women and kids apart right next to me, splattering me with blood. I thought it was real, I thought I was right there, I thought I was going to die. Even after I woke up I was still terrified. My heart was going like a trip hammer. Oh, you'll know. Don't worry, Bees, you'll know. These visions are horrifyingly realistic."

  "Prophet?" Prof said. "How about you?"

  "I haven't had any DX dreams since coming here," I said. "I think I know the difference between DX dreams and regular dreams by now." My own visions had begun on Galinta, not long after Ice and Saka were killed, not long after I had given that dying Bright soldier his last drink of water, not long after I had held his hand to comfort him and felt the peace and love flooding my veins. The Legion gave me a brainscan, and discovered the Dimension X structure, and that's when my career as a prophet began.

  "Your vision of Demon Hill gave the Legion a great victory, Prophet. We're going to develop your abilities, don't worry about that."'

  "So far all I've done here is help Fred get his citizenship."

  "Prophet, that was a noble deed. God will bless you for that," the Prof replied.

  ConFree citizenship had always been a privilege, not a right. But, as Korchak had said, the qualifications were loosening up. Who was to say that janitors were not making a national contribution? Not me. If Fred kept Delta Research's Hqs building fixed up, he was making a national contribution. So one more ConFree national had become a ConFree citizen, through honest labor. Good. He'd still have to keep up on recent developments if he wanted to vote, but that wasn't hard. The requirements were easy – as even Fred had admitted.

  "Saka? Any thoughts?" Prof asked.

  "I've got thoughts, but not visions," Saka said. "You'll remember my visions were always kind of dreamy, and lacked details that might have made them useful." Saka was a once-handsome young Assidic whose face still bore the scars of his horrific death on Galinta. I had seen that myself, just as I had seen Ice die in the same incident. Saka had been blasted by shrapnel, almost decapitated, his skull and spine shattered, his armor all chopped up. He had died instantly. And I had witnessed that Bright bring him back to life, with bloody hands, and make the sign of the cross over him. Bees claimed the Brights were angels, and the Legion Recovery Hospital claimed the Brights had used very advanced science to restore life into Ice and Saka and heal them both. I didn’t know or care which it was, only that Ice and Saka had been saved and returned to the land of the living, and the Brights had done it, and I was in their debt forever for saving my comrades. I could still hardly look at Ice and Saka without tearing up. I'd have to do something about that.

  "Your visions were powerful and accurate, Saka," the Prof said. "You had glimpses of our mission to Kratar, but we just couldn't quite figure it out at the time. Don't worry, you've got what it takes and we will develop your talents. We will."

  "So what's the program?" I asked.

  "It will be a multipronged approach," the Prof said, "and we will adjust it as proves advisable. Right now we know very little about DX or your capabilities. One very important objective is to learn all we can about Dimension X. And what its role is in our universe and in your brains. I believe the best way to do that is to concentrate on the main objective, which is chronological viewing – prophecy. Galactic Info is charging us with obtaining accurate, actionable intelligence information on the future. Information which can save lives and counter our enemies. Three of you have shown us the capability to do that, but you don’t know how you do it. Our program will encourage all four of you to further develop and to control your DX vision capabilities."

  "Encourage? Will you be using torture?" I asked. I can't help it – I've always been a wiseass.

  "No, we'll be using positive reinforcement. For example, choco donuts."

  "Well, it worked with the D's," I said, with a smile. The Prof had recruited a hostile, captured Demon to willingly assist us, with the aid of choco donuts. He really was a remarkable man.

  "Another interesting development was Bees' surprising and totally unexpected telepathic abilities. This is clearly associated with her DX brain structure, so you are all going to be getting coached in telepathy. The Legion has been using telepaths for decades. Our psychers are an invaluable resource and I am hoping you all will be able to join them."

  "Those people are all ding-a-lings, aren't they?" Saka asked. "I've gotten that strong imp
ression."

  "Becoming an effective psycher involves considerable personal sacrifice and discipline. Kind of like you folks. Sometimes the mental strain shows. Please be understanding with them."

  "Sorry," Saka replied. "I'll be good."

  "We will also be investigating what we are calling DX neural frequencies. Your brain scans have revealed countless neural frequencies associated with your DX structures. We're working on how to read, view or intercept these frequencies. You will all be helping in this effort.

  "So – we'll have plenty of help with this project. Please be patient with them all. Doctor Dimension – known to you all – will be working closely with you. Miss Paula Deep will be tutoring you all in telepathy. You know her, too. Prophet named her 'psycherchick Paula'. For your information, Paula Deep is probably the Legion's most talented psycher. She is also a deeply troubled young lady. I'd like everyone to treat her with respect, and understanding. Perhaps we can help her out as she helps us out. Remember the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Let that be Delta Research's motto."

  Only the Professor could have said something like that without people looking at him like he was crazy. After all, we were with the ConFree Legion and our core mission was to kill people and break things. But I knew he meant every word. The Prof had led us into several bloody adventures in which a lot of people had been killed, but each mission was an act of sublime courage and the highest morality. He had given us another motto to live by earlier, when we were walking into battle and staring death in the face: Do the right thing.

  Δ

  The shipment arrived a bit late to Veils. Veils never closed, of course – it was a top of the line nightclub-bar-restaurant-holo palace, the hottest, most exciting entertainment complex in Temples, the capital city of Galgos 3 in the Gassies Coalition. But the warehouse in the rear closed down at 1800 hours and it was almost 1800 when the big OneWorld aircarrier pulled up by the still-open cargo doors.