“The martyrs?”
“Those who preceded the Messenger.”
“You mean the Deltas?”
“Yes, of course.”
“But they made them,” Laura said. “They created those monsters!”
“They made everything; they are the Creators. Please, we cannot be late,” the man pleaded.
Laura ignored him. “Why did they attack us?”
The man turned and looked at the open door. Laura could see people moving past it, all dressed in the dark-blue and the soft-yellow gowns. “You mustn’t speak this way; you shouldn’t even think it. Blasphemy is not tolerated among them. Please, just come; all will be explained.”
Laura could tell by his words that the man was worried; not only for her, but for himself as well. She turned and held Katy’s hand before looking back at him. He smiled eagerly and waved a hand, ushering them ahead of him. She took a deep breath and told herself to relax, this wasn’t submission, she was just learning about them; she would find what she needed to know and look for a way out.
“Okay,” she said softly and stepped through the doorway and onto a narrow sidewalk.
The roadway in front of the small house was now filled with a parade of people. The helmeted Reds lined the sidewalk like security guards, searching the group for threats. Francis moved close to her. “Now just walk with me. Do not talk to anyone; communication with other new arrivals is frowned upon.
“If you have a question or need assistance, ask me and no one else. Do you understand?”
Laura nodded her acknowledgement without looking at him. She was now in the mix, Katy walking close beside her. The road was filled with clusters of women and walking children, each with a man in dark-blue gowns of their own. She looked ahead at the end of the road between the houses, and could just barely make out their destination.
“Where are the men?” Laura asked.
“There are no men, except for those like myself.”
“And what are you?”
“Think of me as your sponsor, to assist with your transition.”
Laura looked down at Katy. “Are you okay, hun?”
Francis grinned. “She is fine. Children are more receptive to the knowledge plate; her level of understanding already exceeds ours. Her mind is more open and less resistant to the transition.”
Laura hesitated, a chill moving down her spine, causing her legs to stiffen. Ahead was the globe, the mammoth pumpkin-shaped orb now buried into the flat ground with only its top remaining exposed. Missing portions of it showed entry hatches and openings. She saw Deltas along the outside of it moving earth and cutting away vegetation, making room for vehicles and formations of gathering Reds. At the front was a large stage. The procession of people was leaving the road and approaching it.
“Francis,” she said with fear in her voice.
He gripped her free hand and squeezed it. “What you are feeling is normal. I was afraid at my first reception as well. Soon you will understand.”
A formation of Reds moved them tighter together until they were all clustered at the front of the ship. Unlike other crowds of this size, the group was silent, only the breathing and rustling of their clothing providing any ambient noise. Above the large platform, an entryway appeared at the side of the orb. A group of Reds exited and lined the edges of the platform, soon followed by a group of the smaller creatures with gold sleeves. Like the guide, Thera, these wore no helmets. They formed a straight line along the face of the platform then knelt low. Behind them, a blue light shone in the entrance, and out walked a male dressed head to toe in glimmering gold. It was taller than the golden-sleeved guides, but nowhere near the size of the Reds. The crowd let out a combined gasp as the thing moved forward, stopping directly in line of the gold-sleeved guides.
She felt Francis squeeze on her hand. She knew it was his reminder to remain calm. Francis put his lips close to her ear. “This is the Messenger,” he whispered.
The thing moved to the center of the line then raised its arms. Laura looked and watched as the crowd around her knelt, taking the same position as the guides on the platform. A pressure from the top of her head urged her down. She dropped to her knees, holding her eyes closed against the pressure. The creature waited until everyone had followed suit. Laura heard an angered shout near the front and looked up; an older woman stood defiantly shouting, her hand pointed at the Messenger. He flipped a wrist in her direction. She crumpled to the ground and was quickly collected by Reds that moved in from the perimeter. The woman was hurriedly shuttled out of sight.
She returned the squeeze and looked down at Katy, giving the girl a small smile. Katy looked up playfully and leaned into her mother, the young girl somehow sensing the seriousness of the gathering.
The Messenger lowered his arms, and the Golds rose back to their feet, the crowd rising with them.
Stepping to the edge of the platform, the Messenger began to speak. Once again the words came to Laura as thoughts, not transmissions through her ears. “We have come home to you, and now you are saved. You are now a part of us, as you have always been. This we accept. You will be provided for; all of your needs will be met. We welcome you into our civilization; any rejection of this will not be tolerated.”
The Messenger stepped back and looked to his right, then nodded. A pair of red-sleeved guards emerged, holding the older woman who’d shouted the outburst earlier. They brought her forward. The woman’s body appeared paralyzed, frozen into an already kneeling position.
A pair of guides emerged out of the blue light, pushing a large golden cauldron. The Messenger approached the old woman and removed the knowledge plate from the crown of her skull. Freed from its
