by RD Hale
The Orientis states non-believers shall not inherit the kingdom of heaven, however it is not our duty to defeat our enemies, but rather to save as many as we can. For while we inhabit this mortal coil it is never too late for redemption. It is a task not just for the clergy, but for every church follower to show heretics the light of the goddess. We must win this ideological battle with a demonstration of power and our one true power is love.
Kiefer Hitchen was a non-believer; he was executed this morning for his heresy, but I do not wish to dwell on his crimes. His lack of belief says all that needs to be said. However we will demonstrate our love for him with a ritual of purity. If our faith is strong enough, if the goddess sees fit, he may be given a second chance. Our love could earn his redemption.'
A muscular shirtless man in a green turban marches out and kneels to offer a bowl to the ministress. She steps from the pulpit to remove an indistinct lump which drips as she holds it aloft and the congregation sit attentively to ensure no second of this ritual is missed as she speaks:
'Goddess Katona, as I hold the heart of this heretic in my hand I plead for his forgiveness. He was an unfortunate man who did not understand his wrongdoing. Please demonstrate your benevolence. Cleanse the evilness from his soul and let all non-believers know there is a place in paradise for them, if they will only repent. I trust your decision will as always be a just one, so be it.'
'So be it.' A chorus of voices echo through the holy cave as the ministress fully pierces the heart, which slides from the tilted blade into the bowl held by the waiting monk. Desecrated human remains are taken away and the ministress leads us into prayer and songs of battle which I dare not refuse to participate in. After a wearisome hour confined within the nippy cliff face we are finally allowed to leave this entirely altruistic ceremony.
'Hey Ana, I always feel invigorated after worship, don't you?' Eyris asks as cool wind sweeps up the steps.
'Yeah, totally. She's awesome, isn't she? The goddess I mean. It stands to reason the most powerful person in the universe is a woman. Sometimes I think she must be on my side because I tend to get my own way. Art... er Zain knows all about that!' Mila clumsily replies.
'The goddess gives me the motivation to succeed. Not many Level Two girls achieve straight A's, I put it down to my dedication... A few of my girls are getting together on Tuesday and we only hang with the smartest and prettiest; the ones who've been naturally blessed. You should come,' Eyris offers.
'Er, I dunno if I can make it, with homework and everything,' Mila mumbles.
'Don't worry, we don't spend the entire time praying! We have fun as well, bitching about our boyfriends... I'm kidding, Vytali! Seriously though, it'll help you make college friends and give us a proper chance to assess your suitability for the Order. Come along, I won't take no for an answer,' Eyris says.
'Well, if you insist.' Mila gives a dissembling smile.
A dainty footbridge carries us across a stream of slime and at the other side a barefoot man skips over orange coals before a clapping audience. Low heat conductivity makes his feat unimpressive to anyone with a functioning brain and we pass without a second stare.
Entering the shadow of a prominent landmark, we pay the fees to ascend what Eyris refers to as: 'Muntz Column'. The helical staircase is a tight squeeze and we are panting by the time we reach the highest point of Mukat. Standing at the feet of a stone warrior with sword in hand, we soak up this rare example of historical preservation as the first stars emerge in the dusky sky.
'Church rituals can get confusing when we try to influence the judgement of the goddess.' I scratch my jaw next to the earlobe. 'Surely she doesn't require the advice of inferior minds.'
'I'm not sure what you mean, nobody would have the audacity to do such a thing,' Eyris replies.
'Did we not just do that with the ritual of purity?'
'You misunderstand, Zain, this was about us proclaiming our faith and our selflessness. It was our gesture to non-believers, our way of saying we really do care,' Eyris replies.
'It's just a shame non-believers do not get to see such a thing, given that they are not allowed to set foot here.'
'Like the ministress said, it's up to all witnesses to spread the message.'
We step off the pinnacle of Muntz Column and my stomach flutters as a gently chiming energy field whisks us on a tour above temple roofs. As we drift I look above to see ghostly wisps depicting soldiers on horseback, re-enacting ancient battles in the sky. Down below us torches are aflame against walls of marble, bronze serpents glimmer before towering doorways and pond surfaces mirror the heavenly battles. The intangible conveyor belt increases in swiftness, leading under timber bridges, spiralling war monuments and passing between grandiose columns, then rising through the collapsed roof of the Kanseron building.
'Such an enchanting place, isn't it Zain? I feel at one with the goddess when I'm up here. It's a taste of heaven but the classical architecture can also be appreciated in its own right. The city is too technological, it has no soul.' Eyris needlessly raises her voice due to the breathlessness of our escapade.
'I love the city. It really is spectacular but this place certainly has something Medio lacks.'
'It's funny, we keep striving for things we cannot have as we look to the future, when we've been gifted everything we need. We shame ourselves by forgetting this,' Eyris suggests.
'Agreed, but we also shame ourselves by forgetting some do not have everything they need,' I add.
'Poverty is a blessing in itself, Zain. The goddess would not place anybody in a situation they could not handle.'
'But too many don't cope.'
'That's the problem with free will, it's our greatest gift and our source of weakness. Choices can lead to despair, but there's always an escape route - faith. I think it's time to head down, there's somewhere I want to go.'
Golden energy lowers flying apes onto the pavement upon the command of Eyris who has not divulged where we are going, only saying: 'It will be a nice way to end the night'.
Leaving the outskirts of Mukat, we follow a path of purple glitter which glows just enough to negate the need for streetlights, then we cross a field of daisies to a gathering where musicians are playing Samarian rock below a pyramid-shaped canopy. Finding a suitable viewing position I wrap my arms around Mila's hips and our friends stand in the same manner as we watch performances of unanticipated quality, given that a large degree of them are devotional songs. Corny lyrics are ignored as joyful melodies transport us into a moment of perfect bliss.
After too many stutters our romance has taken flight and when we hand these Citicards back to Jardine it will not matter one iota because she is enough to ensure the enchantment perpetuates.
As the crowd grows an enlargened hologram of the band is projected into the air to ensure the performance is visible to every spectator. Mila and I wander off to purchase drinks from a stall and with beers in hands we struggle to identify the pretty heads of Eyris and Vytali amidst the revelry. Arms wave as the audience sing along to another catchy chorus and I gain the impression any attempt to barge through them will not be appreciated right now.
'It doesn't matter, let's just stay here. This is incredible isn't it, Arturo? Every second is like a dream, I don't think life could ever get any better.' Mila sighs, oblivious to her frothy moustache and she sips beer from a plastic cup. 'But it'll soon revert to a whole lot worse.'
'We have to get our own Citicards. I'll keep working for Jardine. I don't care what it takes, I will succeed,' I vow.
'Best be careful though.' Mila wipes her mouth with her sleeve. 'He only pays so much because his work is dangerous.'
'Whenever I'm faced with danger, I overcome it. I can do anything I put my mind to and as long as I maintain that belief we'll have a future.'
'As long as you don't forget about me, now that you have a little money.' Mila fixes my gaze with a hint of vulnerability in her tone. 'You'll always take care of me right?'
&n
bsp; 'What do you think?'
Leaning forward without the influence of excess alcohol, with her pupils perfectly clear and her stable emotional state ensuring lucidity, Mila's lips touch mine and my electrified body copes no better than first time around, all those months ago. My heart does not erupt from my chest, despite its best effort and this single gesture is the final affirmation that everything I have ever hoped for is really real.
Chapter Eight
Teenage Espionage
On our third day Mila and I arrive at Nimbis College to embark on our mission of espionage and we only have to remain unnoticed but this is a finely poised predicament. The consequences of capture are disproportionate to the desperate decisions we are forced to make, but the involvement of a pair of clueless teens could have significant connotations for the path of the nation and consequently the world.
Mila and I enter a lobby of wild plants and fish ponds which somehow do not look out of place against steel floor panels. My face is met by a mild breeze which provides relief from the heat of sunrays as I stare at glass walkways criss-crossing a blue sky. 'Quite an illusion, isn't it?' a passing man mumbles with a smile. 'This is the colour it used to be.'
I spin three hundred and sixty degrees, dizzied by the multifaceted simplicity of architecture designed to inspire. A refuge of academia where scientists, philosophers, writers, artists and politicians are born; an elite level education which a non-citizen will never be granted.
'You don't have to come in. If I'm not back in a few minutes, head home without me,' I suggest as we approach a number of forcefielded booths.
'Don't be ridiculous, partner, I'm coming too.' Mila scrunches an eye and we take the plunge with a swipe of our Citicards; committed not to the cause but to the prize and to our oft-tested sense of loyalty. And as the forcefields seal there will be no escape route if things go wrong.
'Lead us to the library,' I instruct.
A message appears: Zain Gilfoid and Ana King, you have a physics lesson in five minutes. You cannot access the library until this lecture is complete.
'Great, may as well go to the lecture.' Sighing, I am struck by stress-ridden curiosity. 'It's better than waiting around.'
We head along a helical corridor of orange and blue panels which I only notice has a mirrored ceiling when I look up to see our reflections. Abstract images cover twisting walls and as gravity shifts to match our orientation I focus on the floor's glowing arrows. A group of upside down students with absurd quiffs spiral towards us, gradually walking the 'correct' way up as they come closer. These sneering Level One tossers give us a moderate berth and I scowl at their smug faces which are begging for a good, hard punch.
'Why do they even need to go to college if their MECs make them so smart?' I ask.
'Because they aren't as smart as they think they are,' Mila replies.
Mila and I intrude on a wood-furnished lecture hall where students fidget in floating seats, facing a simulated galaxy which is rotating next to a lectern. Seemingly the last to arrive we sheepishly climb into grounded capsules which rise into perfect viewing positions and my enthusiasm merges with the guilt of being an outsider, an impostor gaining a merited experience. A physics professor enters the hall, wearing a star-covered robe more befitting of an astrologer and I suddenly feel sceptical as to where this lesson may lead as she addresses us:
'Today we are going to discuss M-theory. As you may be aware, there are eleven dimensions within our universe. There are the three standard spacial dimensions and the fourth dimension of time. An interesting fact about time is it does not flow as we imagine and is actually an average of the temporal position of each point of space-time at the Planck level. It is similar to the concept of temperature, where we perceive the average energy state of the particles around us. I'll go into time in a little more detail later...
The other seven dimensions of space are a little harder to envisage because they are curled up at the sub-atomic level. Extra dimensions are the reason gravity is far weaker than the other fundamental forces of nature because the graviton particle leaks into these dimensions, diluting its effect. Now eleven dimensions of space is in itself a difficult concept to grasp, but here's where it gets interesting - what if I told you that time as you imagine it does not actually exist?
Time is defined by the temporal location of each causal point of the universe and these points, as well as having individual locations in three dimensional space, also have individual locations in time... or rather they do not! To further confuse things, every subatomic particle exists in every location in space and time that it can possibly inhabit simultaneously. These particles can be in two places at once, as a matter of fact they are in an infinite number of places at once!
Until any particle interacts with an observer it exists as a ghost particle in what is called a possibility cloud. This means as well as moving forwards or backwards, time can also move sideways! The implication is the future and even the present and past are not set in stone and the universe makes provision for free will. If possibilities did not exist, we could only have one possible future and therefore no free will.
One has to ask the question, if a particle exists in every location at once until it is observed, then what happens to the particle at those other locations? Well, science shows us that we inhabit a structure of universes called the multiverse. Every single combination of particles that can exist, does exist as its own individual universe and what we perceive as our universe is a cross-section of the multiverse. When we observe a causal patch of the multiverse it becomes our reality. This raises many philosophical questions such as whether physics is compatible with traditional interpretations of Samarianism.'
'I'm surprised she still has a head!' I whisper.
'Shh!'
The lesson descends into mathematical formulae that I do not understand - the lecturer may as well be talking Eosian. My academic inferiority becomes pronounced but does not inhibit my curiosity and I absorb information with the intention of doing further reading on the compuscreen at home. At the end of the lesson the lecturer asks: 'Now does anyone have any questions?' and I raise my hand to finally excavate some honesty from this culture of bullshit.
'You, over there.' The lecturer points towards my floating seat.
'It sounded like you were questioning the goddess. Are you saying physics has disproven-'
'I'm not interested in discussing matters of faith, only matters of science. Science can never prove a negative,' the lecturer snaps.
'But it sounds like you-'
'Next question,' she interrupts.
I continue raising my hand to no avail as technical questions alienate my self-educated mind, but the intellectualism of these student offers real potential if they are willing to interpret the ambiguous rhetoric. The professor is too smart to further question Samarianism, but hints at a new direction of sceptical enquiry by pointing out it is difficult to arrive at the truth if you start from a point of certainty. As she calls an end to question time a sense of hope arises because things are not as monochromatic as they seemed. Our chairs descend automatically and we exit the hall.
'I don't get it. She was wearing their robes, but she seemed to be a non-believer,' Mila whispers as we walk along the helical corridor.
'I guess science is difficult to suppress, especially when it comes up with inconvenient little things like factual evidence.'
We reach a library of mahogany stairways leading to multiple balconies with glass panes bearing engravings of bacterial structures, binary code, historical buildings, animal skeletons and so on. A silver ball is suspended from the ornate ceiling by metal rods, hanging alongside a double cone light shade. Students read books on red leather sofas, next to a model of a DNA helix and golden globes are perched on wooden stands.
The blue and silver floor leads up a staircase, taking us to a level where geeks are transfixed by violet cylinders projecting images of human organs, atomic nuclei, a cross-section of the planet Eryx..
. I remove the cartridge from my pocket as we pull up two seats and search for a disc drive in the ultramodern and apparently featureless console.
'Where do you put the damn thing? There's no buttons,' I mutter.
'Just touch it with the cartridge and the console will do the rest,' a voice says.
A man is standing behind our chairs in a burgundy waist-coat, holding two books under his arm. I sit rigidly, waiting for him to leave, but he lingers with a thin-lipped that will not budge from his calamine complexion. And I want to tell the nosey librarian to go away but if we arouse suspicion it is doubtful we could evacuate before security is alerted.
'Go on. You never seen a generation three HPJ before?' the librarian asks.
As my hesitant hand hovers the cartridge is sucked from my fingers and swallowed by a transitory cavity in the console. A gentle humming rives the walls of my heart during our wait to discover if the system will show my distrust to be ill-founded.
'I take it you two are first years then?' the librarian mutters.
'Y-yeah,' I stammer.
'So what are you studying?' The librarian's lingering smile widens as if to mask any true sense of expression.
'Er, physics,' I reply.
'The forefront of science. Our understanding of biology and chemistry is almost complete but physics will never be complete. It allows us to peer into the mind of the goddess but we can only see what she wants us to. I can point you in the direction of lots of useful books. You could bring them up on the HPJ but I prefer real books. Don't you?' the librarian asks.
'Er, not really,' I mumble.
'Oh, books have a scent of history, a soul. Holograms have no essence... Well, what have we got here then?' the librarian rambles.
The holographic projector flickers into life and my baited breath is resumed with a gasp of delight as electrons orbit a nucleus and a recorded voice booms out: 'Physics is the study of both infinitesimal and astronomical scales, from the Planck length to the edge of the universe...'