The line buzzed and crackled. He could hear the mayor’s faint breathing as the fool puzzled his way through the ramifications.
“I can see your logic.” Barnstable said. “It is extreme, but I can’t see the public-the living-being upset about it for long. Studies have shown that most living people are uncomfortable with the dead. As long as we’re ready for the backlash-if there is one.”
A fucking study! The Prime’s shoulders sagged as he thought that over. There won’t be anyone left for a backlash… Rage seethed in him momentarily. He pushed a pile of papers off his desk.
“Listen, Barnstable. You are beginning to worry me. I’m afraid I didn’t get to you in time. Forget democracy! You work for International Credit Co. The public will be fine. Just shake hands and smile for the camera.”
“Should we give Updike an ultimatum?” Barnstable was thinking; that gave the Prime a little more confidence.
“Just tell him we do not negotiate with terrorists.” He crossed to the office window that overlooked the oceanfront. Cloud and heavy mist covered the distant Sunken City. “We have to draw the line.”
“Very well, sir.” The mayor paused. “I would appreciate updates as the situation progresses.”
The Prime’s mind went blank with rage. His Demon organ uncurled and pushed against the inside of his trousers. Barnstable? Really? He shook his head in silent communion with the damned member. First time for everything…
The mayor grew uncomfortable with the silence. “Thank you, Prime. I will report to you after I contact Updike.”
The Prime dropped the receiver into its cradle. All this talk of war and power agreed with his second penis. He wanted a girl child-badly…but remembered his Ally’s caution. The girl children did not respond well to his intentions, and they rarely survived-and there was the chance that one of them was the First-mother. He needed the girl children for the new age that would come. After the Change, he planned to repopulate the planet in his own image and he’d already been a glutton with the girls at the Orphanage.
Then he thought of the First-mother. If he had her-if he had her! The sending had brought some girls in that matched the Ally’s description…one even had a guardian. The Prime’s special servants would soon divine the truth.
After coming to full power he no longer felt it necessary to keep his game face when it came to the forever children. For years he’d allowed social workers and Children’s Aid representatives access and limited participation in his Orphanage’s programs. But his desires caused him indiscretions and the use of Powers required certain unexplainable disappearances that undermined the ruse. So the participation of interested parties was reduced and eventually stopped. Any legal argument was tied up in court for decades and if anyone pushed too hard, he was likely to disappear or suffer some violent end in the unpredictable World of Change: either at the hands of the Prime’s agents outright-charges of sexual interference on a child were easy to arrange, or the Prime’s other Powers could come to bear and the children’s advocate would be devoured by a Demon.
The thought of enjoying the First-mother caused his Demon organ to grow rigid with violence. He’d have to make do with a secretary. Or better, he’d interview someone from the temp pool of pre-Change twenty-something women-someone with youthful looks-yes…
As he dug into his desk for the personnel file the Prime enjoyed the waves of pleasure rippling through his augmented body. He would answer Updike’s challenge. Apocalypse was being invoked and it would go badly for anyone who hesitated. He smiled at the notion of burning thousands of walking corpses. Then he found the personnel file and opened it. A resume fell out. Gods had to be willing to make sacrifices too.
52 – Battle Cry
Updike returned from the central building. He’d stepped in to speak with Oliver Purdue before taking a forwarded call. He had spoken on the phone. It took the army an hour or more to gather its ranks and arrange itself in the wide valley. Their numbers weighed on Stoneworthy’s mind. They were dead, but he could see life in their eyes, excitement as Updike approached the center of the stage. The rain had slowed to a drizzle.
“Let us pray,” Updike said over the microphone before taking it from the stand and dropping to his knee. Stoneworthy knelt by him. Thousands of dead did the same. A great rustling of dried and brittle bodies filled the air with sound as the army knelt in supplication-echoed by the rattle and clink of armament multiplied many times. It came in a noisy tide of sound. Those desiccated to inflexibility that could not kneel, bowed their heads, or were helped to their knees by their dead brethren. “Our Father Who art in Heaven…” Updike began, the speakers echoed.
And Stoneworthy felt his thoughts fly outward, whisking before him to join the collective soul of the army. There was a great silence, overshadowed slightly by the fibrous clicking actions of dead lips mouthing words of prayer. Stoneworthy felt the first surge of power. Somewhere deep inside his soul he understood that the multitude before him looked to Updike and to him for guidance. It was intoxicating.
As each of Updike’s words was echoed, Stoneworthy felt his own chest expand with the collected breath of their followers. He understood the forlorn reality of the dead, and yet, even in that finality, he did not need rest. The Reverend did not need it, as the others did not, for there could be no rest until righteousness had won out. This final injustice would be resisted, and recompense delivered. But how he craved it. He could feel the unwelcome deadness of his body, could feel the stiffening of his joints and flesh. Soon, he hoped, the end.
He was as dead as humanity’s aspirations-as wanting of life as its best intentions. Humanity had used death as the great escape for far too long. God took that away from man so he could understand there is no rest in death. Stoneworthy whispered: “Atonement.”
“Amen!” Updike breathed into the microphone and stood. The time of reckoning had come. There followed a rising tide of sound as the gathering climbed to its feet. Updike allowed them a moment to collect themselves. And then he began to speak:
“Brothers and sisters, friends, Apocalypse approaches. Come get with me. A New World is here unfolding, and the light that causes this blossoming comes from the blazing righteousness in your souls. Come get with me. Before this flower can come full bloom, there has been a winter. And this winter has been the World of Change. You have been with me.” In the crowd, Stoneworthy heard spirited “ Amen’s ” rise up. Updike seemed to grow in size upon the stage.
“You have walked through the valley of the shadow of death like no others in human history. Come get with me. You walk past the crumbling truths of the Old World: Profit! Greed! Idolatry! Lust! Come get with me. Yet we have not stopped the sins and so have sinned. You have been with me.” He raised his arms, and the gathering groaned.
“And because we are sinners, we are punished. God knows our hearts. He has watched us. He has seen the righteous struggle. Seen the martyrs die. But He has stayed His mighty hand. He watches us tempted by the Devil, sees us fall-and yet He waits. He waits in grace and patience. He waits because He loves us. Come get with me!”
The Army of the Dead roared its approval. “ Hallelujah’s ” rang across the valley. Updike waited a moment, looked at Stoneworthy and made a sign of encouragement before continuing.
“The Lord chased us from the Garden of Eden, and gave us this world to call our own. For generations we listened to the words of God handed down to us through Moses. When we wandered in the wilderness, God led us. The Lord did not abandon us. And how have we shown our gratitude? Instead of working hard for our souls we worked hard for gold. We abandoned Him!” Updike paused scowling. His eyes burned.
“Still, the Lord was patient.” The preacher raised his hands, fingers splayed. “He offered us ten Commandments out of love to protect us from ourselves and from evil. Simple rules, like any parent would give his child. Come get with me. And yet we did not follow the ten. Not nine, or six or four… And as we strayed from our Father, as we broke each commandment, we wandered ever closer to the Devil. Come get with me.” The gathering shouted its encouragement.
“‘Do not do these ten things!’ is all He asked. Yet, we did not obey. And then, as an ever-loving father might, he did not punish us. Instead he gave us His only son to teach us, hoping that we could learn from His example. We listened to the words of Jesus, and we watched His miracles. And we accepted His gifts. And how did we repay
