by Phoenix Ward
“Speak your name, child,” the priestess said.
“Kartun,” the boy said. He raised his eyes and looked out over the crowd as he did.
“And does Kartun swear to serve God and his spirit, the Earth?”
“I do so swear.”
The crowd erupted with cheering and applause. The boy beamed, a new look of pride washing over his once-shy expression.
The priestess moved on to the next child. Dipping her thumb in the oil again, she anointed the little girl like she had the boy.
“Speak your name,” she said.
“Zenna,” the girl replied.
“And does Zenna swear to serve God and his spirit, the Earth?”
“I do so swear.”
Applause ensued again.
The process repeated with the other four children, each declaring their new names as they were anointed with oil.
“Maylee!” one girl declared.
“Ozrius,” a boy said.
“Natir,” another girl named herself.
“Orion.”
With each new name, the crowd clapped and cheered them on, welcoming them into their society. Tera couldn’t help but feel a little warm at the scene. Each child smiled with such joy that it was contagious.
“These are always my favorite masses,” Orram said after they applauded the final child. “So joyous.”
“Orram, do mind telling us a little about your religion?” Tera asked as the priestess started going into a sermon.
Orram’s eyes seemed to twinkle a little, and he smiled wide. “Not at all, Ms. Alvarez!” he said. “I always love teaching people about our worship. What do you want to know?”
“This God that you pray to,” Tera started, not quite sure how to word her question, “is he the Christian God, from the New Testament?”
“Yes, but that hardly encapsulates it,” Orram replied. “He is also Allah and Yahweh. He’s Buddha, he’s Jesus, he’s you, and he’s me.”
Tera and Ethan looked at him with cocked eyebrows.
“You see, God isn’t a singular being, but the spirit of life in everything,” Orram said. “He is not merely the creator, but the creation. We are all a part of God, like your cells are a part of you — ” he turned to Tera ” — or wires, I suppose, for you.”
“Do you believe in an afterlife?”
“In a way, I suppose we do,” Orram replied. It was clear that talking about his religion was a source of delight for him. “When we die, we become closer to God, so long as we have lived a decent and pious life. We become a more knowing part of his functions. It would be like if one of your cells could learn to speak and listen to you. It may be confusing, but then we are able to speak with the spirit of everything living — as a whole.”
“The spirit of everything living,” Tera repeated. “I don’t suppose that includes installed intelligences?”
Discomfort worked its way onto Orram’s wrinkled brow. “It’s true that we don’t believe that I.I.s — such as yourself — are able to ascend to God. Not because you are sinful, but because your spirit has already ascended. I hope it doesn’t bother you to hear it, Ms. Alvarez, but your spirit has joined the billions of souls that make up much of what God is.”
“You don’t believe I’m a real person, then,” Tera said. There was a bit of venom in her tone.
Orram sighed. “It’s much more complex than I can explain,” he said. “You are of course a person and I don’t value a human life over your own. It’s just how our religion is.”
While they spoke, Ethan became distracted by a figure that stood off to the side of the stage. It looked like a man, but the hood it wore made it hard for Ethan to tell. On all sides of the stranger were other men and women in dark robes, but their heads were bowed down, as if to see the priestess giving her sermon would cause them great pain.
Then, while Tera and Orram were discussing the afterlife, Ethan saw the figure turn his hooded head to say something to one of his companions. He was an onyx-colored bodyshell with a light green glow visible through his seams. The hood did well to cover his artificial features, but not when he faced an observer dead on. As the hooded I.I. said something to one of his entourage, his ocular receptors locked on to Ethan. For a moment, they stared at one another.
Ethan looked away. Something about the hooded stranger sent shivers down his spine.
“Who’s that?” he asked once there was a lull in Tera and Orram’s conversation.
The old priest looked to where the teenager indicated and spotted the bodyshell. His face fell into a look of distaste.
“That’s Reverend Nidus, as he calls himself,” Orram explained. “He’s the leader of that foreign cult I told you about. The king finished speaking with him earlier today, but needed time to prepare for your meeting. Why he humors them, I’ll never understand — but I suppose it’s not my place to.”
Tera and Ethan both looked at the hooded bodyshell. His green eyes glowed back at them from across the temple.
Nidus
“Good morning!” a voice called from outside the apartment.
Ethan jolted upright in his bed. He looked around the room with a disoriented expression, forgetting for a moment where he was. In the corner, Tera took herself out of stasis mode, her mechanical head lifting towards the source of the voice.
“Hello?” the voice came again. It was Orram. “Are you awake yet? The sun’s been up for hours!”
Scrabbling around the room to get fully dressed, Ethan shouted back, “One minute!” Tera did her best to not watch as he made himself decent.
Orram’s wrinkled, smiling face greeted them as they pushed the cloth door aside.
“Ah, you haven’t run off,” he said, an air of good humor in his voice. “Still want to meet with the king, I presume?”
“Is that a serious question?” Tera replied.
Orram chuckled. “King Hum has requested an audience with you,” he said. “He would like to meet at the palace in an hour.”
“We’ll be there,” Ethan replied.
“Excellent,” Orram said. “I have matters to tend to myself, so I must go, but I trust you’ll be able to find your way? The palace is just behind the temple. It’s huge; you won’t be able to miss it.”
With a twirl of his robe, Orram turned and walked away from the apartment building. Tera and Ethan could see the locals going about their business in the street outside.
It was a much easier stroll through town without all the worshipers heading to the temple at the same time. Tera and Ethan were able to take their time as they made their way to the king’s palace. It was only a short walk thanks to the lack of congestion, so they had some time to kill before their meeting.
Tera couldn’t help but delight at the sight of children playing with each other, ducking through the legs of passing Opesians and hiding behind barrels and pillars on the side of the street. She recognized one of them as one of the children who were named the night before — the young woman now called Natir.
Ethan watched a couple of men playing a board game he’d never seen before. There were white and black pieces, like chess, but they were all in an arrangement that Ethan didn’t understand. The men also held a hand of cards each, which they seemed to use to move their pieces on the board.
The playing children ran by the playing men, who hollered at them to be careful around their board.
The two outsiders continued their trek until the street led into the town square, just before the gargantuan temple. Where there had been a thick pack of people all shuffling one way, shoulder to shoulder, there were now market stands and people haggling over wares. The sounds of excited and indignant voices washed over the general babble, along with the chinking of pottery and other goods being shifted around.
Tera peered down at the display of turquoise jewelry in the stand closest to her. There were a number of necklaces and rings, but she was drawn to the bracelets. She picked up one, a silver chain with turquoise and garnet studs in the middle
of each link. The sun caught some of the polished metal, shining it back at her with a pleasant, dull glow. She put the bracelet on her wrist. Her lips parted a little in wonder as she admired the way the jewelry looked on her gray and white arm. It slid halfway up her mechanical forearm while the owner of the stand smiled at her.
Ethan was looking over an array of hot sauces when the man behind the booth asked him if he wanted to try a bit. He nodded wordlessly, and the booth attendant opened a small vial of bright orange liquid. He offered it to Ethan, who dabbed it on his finger and put it in his mouth. Instantly, his tongue started to sting with the intense spice of the sauce. The booth attendant laughed at the look of pain on his face.
“Ah, the other tourists,” a voice broke through Ethan and Tera’s attention.
They looked away from their respective stands and saw the hooded form of Reverend Nidus standing between the next two booths. He had an amethyst orb in his mechanical hand, which he returned to the table in front of him. The stand was full of similar pieces.
“What do you want?” Ethan asked, giving the hot sauce back and thanking the man behind the booth.
“Me? I don’t want anything. Not in particular,” the onyx bodyshell replied. He looked back down at the art pieces beside him. “Cute, isn’t it?”
“What’s cute?” Tera asked. Some of the gears in her body tightened a little, ready for any funny business.
“These people,” Nidus replied, to which the booth owner in front of him sneered. “This whole place. It’s like watching children play. No, it’s like stepping through a portal in time. To when our ancestors were all holed up in their caves and their huts.”
“I’m sure King Hum is fond of your opinion on his people,” Tera said.
Nidus smirked. “I’m sure he’s willing to listen to reason,” he said, “if presented correctly.”
He stepped away from the art stand, to the relief of its owner.
“You’re here for pleasure, I’m sure,” he said, his sarcasm biting. “Just to take in the sights, right? Or are you here to bend the good king’s ear as well?”
“What’s it matter to you?” Ethan asked. He was acutely aware of the nearest blunt object he could grab if things turned ugly.
“Not at all, I suppose,” Nidus replied. His hood fluttered as a gust blew through the market. “I can’t help but be interested, though. I’m just curious what would bring a couple of people from the first-class Shell City to this burrow?”
“You don’t seem to like the Opesians for someone who seems to need help from their king,” Tera commented.
“I cannot hide my contempt for savages,” Nidus replied. “They worship mystical nonsense and tribal voodoo, like our filthy ancestors.”
“How is your cult any different?” Tera asked.
Nidus took a step back, an expression of mock offense on his artificial face. “I take issue with that term,” he said. “We’re a church, like any other.”
“Any other?” Tera interjected. “I’ve seen one of your ‘Sheddings’. I’ve watched your cult fanatics stick a knife into their own throats and kill themselves. I would call that ‘savage’, wouldn’t you?”
Nidus looked away, feigning interest in one of the shawls hanging nearby. “Some of my followers have a bit of a…flair for the dramatic,” he said casually.
“They kill themselves?” Ethan asked. He seemed a little lost in the conversation.
Tera nodded. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes, back in Slumside,” she replied, not taking her eyes off the hooded bodyshell. “They think that becoming an installed intelligence is what God wants for us, and getting installed brings one closer to their maker. In reality, it’s just a way to brainwash the humans we oppress while pushing pro-I.I. propaganda.”
A look of disgust crossed Ethan’s face as she spoke. Nidus didn’t seem disturbed by her explanation.
“I’m sure it makes you feel better to think of us as crazy, or that we take advantage of the humans,” Nidus started, “but it doesn’t change the facts. There will come a day of reckoning where you and the other heathens wonder how you ever could have doubted us.”
“I’m an I.I., too, Nidus,” Tera said, her face scrunched up into a scowl.
“Yet you fight against God’s will,” Nidus replied. “That puts you in a precarious position. If you were to join the Shedders, you would see the truth. Those humans didn’t kill themselves — they ascended to holiness. That’s why we call it a Shedding — they peel away their mortal baggage and become what mankind was always supposed to be. This is what we were intended for. Shedding, ascending, installing — whatever you call it — is a necessary transition for the human spirit.”
“You don’t seem to be any closer to holiness,” Ethan said, “despite your lack of ‘mortal baggage’.”
“I was chosen to preach and spread our Lord’s message,” Nidus replied. “Once my mission is done, I will be able to enjoy the paradise we create. Me, and those in my flock. No one else.”
“You’ll be in short company,” Tera said. “No one will fall for your phony religion. You’re cult will disband and fade away from memory before you even know it. Then you won’t prey on those humans anymore.”
Reverend Nidus smiled, a cruel delight in his countenance. “You’d be amazed what people are willing to fight for when they aren’t afraid of death. Just remember that.”
He pulled his robe a little tighter to his chest, took one last gaze over Tera and Ethan, then turned and walked away. The other two stood in silence while people moved about the market around them.
King Hum
“Ah, I’m already starting to get used to your faces,” Orram said as the two outsiders approached the long flight of steps leading up to the palace. “You still have a few minutes to spare.”
“We might as well be early to meet with a king,” Tera said.
Orram could see both of them were in sour moods, but he didn’t know why. “Something on your minds?” he asked.
“We met your other guest,” Ethan replied. “That Reverend Nidus.”
“Ah, then I see why you’re less than chipper,” Orram said. “Yes, he is an unpleasant fellow, isn’t he?”
“He seems to look down on your people,” Tera said. “Opes. Your king. He said you were ‘savages’.”
Orram’s face became grim, but not surprised. “He has done little to conceal his true feelings about our culture,” he said. “And to think he wants favors from a kingdom he mocks. We must not be too ‘savage’ if his holiness thinks he needs our help.”
“I think he’s dangerous,” Ethan commented.
“He could be,” said the old adviser. “But what can we do? He’s done nothing malicious yet, save try to convert some of our flock.”
“You could stop him,” Ethan suggested. “You could take him prisoner.”
“You want us to attack and kidnap a guest of ours, in our holy city?” Orram asked, astonished. “He may be a snake, but we don’t abuse the trust of those we welcome. Until he does something sinister, he can walk around and make whatever ominous sermons he pleases.”
“Then keep an eye on him,” Tera insisted. “Make sure you can stop him if he ever does decide to do something…‘sinister’.”
“Oh, you can rest assured that we are keeping a close watch on him. As do we for all our guests,” Orram replied. “Now, shall we go inside to the throne room?”
Tera and Ethan thought the temple was ornate, yet it paled in comparison to the palace. The stone was fine and polished, some tiles even marble. The columns that held the place up were just as ornate and beautiful, complete with the same gold-inlaid carvings they saw in the house of worship. Immense tapestries of fine fabric — silk, Ethan guessed — depicted the spirit of God and the Earth, all with vague shapes with no discernible narrative.
Statues lined the great hall, placed lovingly before the tapestries. They could easily have been uniform and simple to complete the regal aesthetic, but each sculpture was remarkabl
y different from the last. Examining the pieces — a man panning for gold in a creak, a Pegasus with its wings spread wide, a bizarre tree with the face of a gorilla — Tera and Ethan could guess they were made by a variety of artists.
The great hall was tied together with a purple rug that stretched the entire length of the room. There were intricate patterns woven into the fabric, but like the tapestries, all the forms were abstract and nonhuman.
“Quite an extravagant place to live,” Tera said. She tried not to put any emphasis in her tone, but based on Orram’s expression, it had been taken as sarcasm.
“The king only abides whatever extravagance the people see fit to have,” the old adviser said. “This palace belongs to all of Opes — not just King Hum.”
“Then why aren’t they sleeping here?” Tera asked. Ethan looked at her like she was digging a hole she didn’t need to dig, but she ignored him. “If this is everyone’s palace, why doesn’t everyone have a seat on the throne? It seems to me like you’re keeping the nice things for yourselves — at least, your king is.”
Orram grew red in the face. “Are you accusing us of hoarding the kingdom’s wealth?” he asked with an indignant tone. “Do you think we leave our people to suffer while we reap the rewards? Tell me, did you see any slums as you explored our city? Any beggars asking you for money?”
Tera, silent, shook her robotic head.
“We live in excess, Ms. Alvarez,” Orram said. “With that excess, the people voted to fund the palace as you see it today. The art, the decor — it was all chosen by the populace. That’s right — we voted on the palace.”
Tera seemed a little admonished as she lowered her gaze, following Orram to the other end of the great hall.
“I — I didn’t realize,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Orram brightened up a little, turning a kindly face to the pair of guests. “It’s quite alright,” he said. “I’m an understanding person. I’ll remember that you’re an outsider not used to our ways, but don’t expect the king to be as lenient. I’d hold your criticisms in his presence — at least, if you want the best results.”