Elle’s greens widened considerably and her gaze locked on Task.
“He couldn’t see you. Must have been the interference.”
“Yeah. I know you’re there.”
“Of course not.”
“You’re dead if he finds out you listened in.”
“And now you do.”
“No. You won’t. You’re not going to tell anyone about this.”
“Help me.”
“Get me off this planet.”
Hearts pounded. Hannon was furious.
He batted at the remaining nanos. They hovered like nibblers until winking out, drained of residual phase.
There was a time…
And then there wasn’t. Berlin was a traitor, regardless of other times and places. He would be punished accordingly
because that was the way the system worked. It was a good system.
He had to meet soon with the medium and God and the council. He didn’t feel like talking. He didn’t feel like facing God after placing him in the slumber for so long. It hadn’t really been his or His decision, but those had been awkward times. Heroes of war and night. A new order.
There was a time.
They had been young
men on the last field of war: Berlin’s blood on Hannon, Hannon’s blood on Berlin. Twin stars above, twin hearts racing with the rage of battle. How that knife had slipped into flesh, the blade turning slightly, notching the neck as his fingers gouged out the left eye. The final scream: four vital pipelines severed and cool black splashing the front of gray armor. Pressure and the blade cut farther, remaining eye rolled back and scream ended as the head was removed.
Machines in the sky, too close overhead: the wake of their passing knocked them to the ground. Berlin helped Hannon to his feet. Their eyes locked, revealing the shared knowledge of defeat without surrender.
The space between the suns danced with silver.
City on fire, plains on fire, men on fire. The horror of black metal slamming to the ground.
They’d fought on the right side, and the machines were forgiving.
“He’s awake.”
“So I gathered.” Judith walked through the chamber door. Doctor and Assistant parted to let her past.
God sat at a table, a tray with utensils and a bowl of viscous gray nutrition slurry before him. He eagerly shoveled the food into his mouth. Some of it actually hit target instead of dribbling down his chin.
Judith leaned over the table, pushed God’s head up with left hand while opening his eyelids with the right. She looked for damage.
“Couldn’t you have gotten a better host body?” His projection in the flux had been delicious. This bald middle- aged creature sitting at the table was a travesty.
“It was short notice.”
Judith slumped into the chair across from the deity. “Good food?”
He looked up quickly, face blank besides drippage. Back down into the bowl. Splashing spoon launched a droplet of slurry onto Judith’s cheek.
“He’s a mess. I’ll have to hardlink him for the entire conference.”
“At least he’s mobile now.”
“You could have put wheels on the fucking static tube.”
“Host body transfer is standard—”
“
God smacked his lips, smiled and nodded his head as Assistant placed another bowl in front of him.
“He’s so
“The host body withstood all the standard testing.”
“Was it like this before? Was he a retard in real life?”
Doctor shook its head. “God was not a retard.”
“Filtered?”
“He was filtered, yes.”
“And where exactly did you get this host?”
“Shipment of biologic from the outer. Selected at random.”
“You bring the bodies back?”
“Special ops. Next generation nearish development.”
“When did this program start? Using dead people for—”
“I can’t discuss this with you.”
“I have full clearance, Pasty.”
“Not for this.”
Judith stood up, placed both hands on Doctor’s shoulders. She leaned in close, spoke into its “ear.”
“Pssst. I’m the girl who talks to God. You can tell me anything.” She kissed Doctor’s cheek and smiled warmly.
Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “I guess you’ll find out somehow anyways.”
“Of course I will. Now spill it.”
“The outer systems have been burning for decades.”
Burning: euphemism for the machine war that never really ended. Resistance to the drowning. The way the polite castes referred to the non-surrender of the barbarian horde. What a joke.
“This I know.”
“What we’ve just realized, though, is that prolonged exposure creates abnormalities.”
“I thought we sent nearish to the front lines.”
“Nearish need reals to lead them.”
Slurry slurp. Judith turned to see God finishing his second (third?) bowl.
“What kind of abnormalities?”
“Sub-genetic, for the most part.”
“For the most part…What else have you found?”
“I really shouldn’t—”
“Tell me.”
“Cardiac abnormalities.”
Judith felt gooseflesh stipple her forearms.
“One heart?”
“How did—You couldn’t have known that.”
She ignored the near, sat back down at the table in front of God while unwinding a length of hardlink cable. She snapped the link into her chestshield, maneuvered the other end around pudgy sticky resistance fingers and plugged home between his hearts.
Nothing.
