Heir Ascendant

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Not really.” Maya nibbled. “I never thought about it.”

  “Jeva sees all,” said Var. “He protects those who follow the one true path.”

  “So, you’re Sons of Jeva?” Maya fought the urge to roll her eyes.

  They smiled.

  “We are his children,” said Var.

  Fud bowed his head. “This world is an evil and broken place, and he has promised to rebuild from it a paradise in which humanity will thrive.” He made a grand sweeping gesture. “He protects and guides us, his humble servants.”

  Var handed out another round of hot dogs. “He provides us with everything we need, such as these nutrient tubes. As protected Sons of Jeva, we are allowed entry to the city as often as necessary to spread The Word.”

  She winced. The checkpoint at the gate hadn’t occurred to her before. Perhaps a silly robe and make up would get her in without notice. She vaguely recalled something about freedom of religion from the old government. Perhaps one of a few things the Authority had kept. No way would she let them shave her head though. “So, what’s it like?”

  “The Ceremony of Universal Welcome is beautiful,” said Fud, with a starry-eyed upward stare. “For three days, the supplicant meditates alone in the spirit dome, with nothing between them and Jeva but the sacred embers.”

  “Naked?” Maya squirmed. “Is that really necessary?”

  “It is a representation of one casting off the trappings of the Earth.” Fud brought his hands together, smiling. “The sacred embers burn, covering you with Jeva’s wisdom and love. The supplicant is safe and protected within the spirit dome. Upon the Third Day, Jeva shall bestow upon you your sacred vestments.” He patted his robes. “The only possession you will ever need.”

  “So you guys don’t own anything?” Maya shifted a bit of hotdog from one side of her mouth to the other.

  “We give everything, all worldly possessions, to Jeva.” Var bowed with reverence. “Our tasks may produce NuCoin, which we lovingly surrender to the furtherance of his needs.”

  “If he’s a supreme being, why does he need money?” Maya raised an eyebrow.

  They made faces at her like a cute child who’d inadvertently said something offensive.

  “There are mysteries we dare not question.” Fud tucked his hands in his sleeves and bowed his head. “Jeva commands the discarding of wealth and material possessions. The Great Unmaking was brought about by the unrestrained pursuit of such things. He does not himself possess―he separates the material from the world and guards our souls.”

  “When you experience the sacred smoke, all will become clear.” Var gazed off with the expression of a small child seeing his mother.

  Great. They’re want to lock me in a sauna with hallucinogens for three days. No wonder these two are broken. “Umm, so you’ve seen Jeva? Like, not from the smoke, but really?”

  They nodded. “He dwells not far from here in the Grand Temple at Adelphi. A vast underground palace.”

  “Does it have tunnels and metal rails going through it?” asked Maya.

  Fud’s eyes popped wide. “You have seen it? Truly, a sign.”

  No. But I know what a subway station was. “Uhh, I heard someone talk about it. How do you know Jeva’s a god?”

  “It is The Word,” said Var.

  Both men bowed their heads.

  “So, this guy just says he’s a god, and you believe him?”

  Fud looked hurt. “Child, please guard your words, lest Jeva hear.”

  “She does not know, brother.” Var raised a placating hand. “Soon after the Great Unmaking, Jeva was as you are now, a mere mortal wandering alone across the vast nothing the world has become. It was then that he came upon the Sacred Speaker, and it bore unto him The Word.”

  Both men bowed, quiet for a long moment. They chanted a syllable that sounded a bit like ‘Oman,’ which made Maya clamp her hand over her mouth to hide a snicker. She managed to conceal her smile before they looked up.

  Var raised his palms upward. “The Sacred Speaker communicated with Jeva and taught him what we must do to prevent our world from spiraling into the Sun. Through the Speaker, he became holy, no longer a mere mortal. Our race has squandered this planet, our most precious gift, and the Distant Watchers were displeased. They sent the Sacred Speaker as a test, and thank Jeva he found it.”

  Fud bowed, and said the strange word again. That time, it sounded like a mixture of ‘ohm,’ and ‘amen.’

  “Who’s the sacred speaker?” Maya wiped her hands on her nightdress.

  “The Sacred Speaker is a totem given to Jeva by the Distant Watchers.” Var paused for another reverent head bow. “He has told of it several times. A lustrous pearlescent purple statue in the shape of a woman in fine robes. Though it is not alive in a way a simple human mind can understand, it bestowed The Word upon him.”

  The men bowed again.

  Maya glanced to her left at the far off pop of a gunshot. “Have you seen it?”

  “Oh, no,” said Fud, hand on his chest. The look on his face would’ve been appropriate had Maya suggested throwing an infant in a bonfire. “Only Jeva is permitted to gaze upon the Sacred Speaker. He was commanded by the Distant Watchers never to reveal it to anyone else, for they could not bear the magnificence of it and would surely die under the fearsome presence of her voice.”

  “Riiight,” whispered Maya. “So, he’s never actually shown anyone the proof he’s a god or that there are aliens, uhh, ‘distant watchers?’ He could just be making this all up to take your money.”

  Var sighed, eyebrows together in an expression of sympathy. “Oh, child. Faith is something one must accept. When you see him, you will understand.”

  She eyed the darkness, finding it held a sudden appeal over her present company. The last thing she needed now was to fall asleep here and wake up locked in a stone igloo somewhere naked, head shaved, and high as hell on whatever drugs they burned by the bucket load. So much for priesting her way into the Sanctuary Zone. Of all that, the thought of someone cutting her hair angered her the most. Of what little reaction she’d ever managed to get from Vanessa, the woman had been jealous of her hair. Not-Mom never could get hers quite as straight.

  “Thank you so much for giving me food, but I don’t think Jeva would want me.”

  “Do not be so critical of yourself, child.” Fud smiled. “All who know the Sons of Jeva respect his power. We have no fear of the denizens of this place. He will protect us.”

  Maya tucked her feet closer, preparing in case she needed to sprint. The analytical part of her mind wanted to point out that these two had fallen for a con man who may or may not even have a talking statue. Convenient he couldn’t show it to anyone. Of course, as placid as these two appeared right now, they might go ballistic if she threatened their faith.

  “I’m nine. I don’t have any worldly possessions to surrender.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Var smiled. “You’re still a child. You are innocent in the evils of the world, and need to embrace Jeva before your soul is stained.”

  Maya clasped her knife and stood, keeping the blade hidden behind her back. “I gotta go. I, uhh, think I hear a Sanctified Shǎguā calling me.” She curtsied and sprinted for the corner of the building, hoping they didn’t understand Chinese. Of course, had her vocabulary been better, she might’ve come up with something stronger than ‘simpleton.’

  “Wait, child,” yelled Fud. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  Once she hit the alley along the side of the 7-11, the lack of bright fluorescent light rendered the world impenetrable and black. They might be nice, but they’re so creepy. Dying grass slid between her toes, and she slowed to avoid a nasty fall until her eyes adjusted to moonlight. Her foot found a can or pipe―which shot out from under her―and she spilled over onto her hands, the knife flying. For a few minutes, she remained still. When the pain in her palms and knees faded, she patted around until she found her stolen weapon. Relieved, she stood and dusted herse
lf off. The Sons of Jeva gave up calling after her and retreated around the storefront, seeming afraid to leave the cone of light emanating from within. She almost felt guilty for running from their apparent kindness… but they’d been so creepy.

  The radiance of the Sanctuary Zone dominated the horizon a touch off to the right, and now that the sun had gone down, the lights of dozens of drones slid back and forth over the highway. She looked around at a dirt lot with tufts of grass amid patches of bare dirt. A feeble glow up ahead outlined a cluster of box trailers, one with a cloth awning on the side. Faint notes from heavy music leaked out of a tiny speaker somewhere. The shadow of a large industrial complex sat beyond them.

  A glint of moonlight to the left caught her eye where a shallow puddle spread out at the base of a corrugated metal tunnel about three feet in diameter. It passed under a road long-ago rendered useless to vehicles. Still, the culvert offered a place to spend the night away from prying eyes and sycophantic cultists.

  She eased her way down the embankment, toes squishing in inch-deep mud, and crawled into the tunnel. Lumpy metal made for a lousy bed, but it was dry and felt safer than being outside in the dark. Alone, cold, and frightened, she shivered. Her mind bounced between the want to be safe at home with her friend, and worry for Genna. She pictured the lay of the Magic cards and cried from guilt, her soft sobs echoing in the tunnel.

  apid-fire Chinese shouted in a woman’s voice startled Maya awake. The tirade flowed far too fast for her to make sense of it, though she did pick out the word for ‘idiot’ a few times. She sat up and tried to stretch, an uncomfortable prospect at best in a corrugated metal pipe. Her legs hurt from so much walking, her chest ached from worry and guilt, and her throat felt as though it had turned into cotton overnight.

  She crawled to the end of the tunnel and tried to coax any amount of moisture into her mouth. The distant argument raged on while she regarded herself in the surface of a muddy brown puddle. Maya touched the water; ripples broke the illusion where the sky reflected as a strip of bright grey glass next to her face. That she felt no urge to add to the puddle worried her.

  I haven’t had anything to drink in two days.

  The shouting petered out to a few quick snapped remarks. Maya emerged from the pipe and stretched a leg to step over the mud. She guessed the time at close to noon with a threatening, overcast sky. People tended to stay inside when it rained out of fear of Fade, though she’d gotten inoculated soon after birth―unless Vanessa lied about that too―but it seemed unlikely. The vac shot cost Ascendant about ten dollars to make, and Maya had been valuable. Maybe.

  She tried to swallow the cotton in her mouth, half considering attempting to drink the muck. Disgust overpowered desperation, and she walked away, navigating a patch of rough weeds to the far side of the ditch. She climbed the bank, pausing at the top to peer between strands of wild grass at a collection of wheeled dwellings. A portable town made of four white semi-trailers and a pea-green house trailer sat in the shadow of a distant industrial complex.

  A short Asian woman with glossy, tight black pants, heeled boots, and a long-sleeved net shirt that didn’t do much to conceal her breasts paced back and forth under an orange awning on the side of the largest trailer. Her black bob cut flared out each time she turned with the sharp twist of a soldier. Dark-blue earrings, wire mesh in the shape of three-dimensional stars, seemed about to fly off. The woman muttered to herself in Chinese while drumming her fingers on a boxy machine pistol hung on a strap over her shoulder.

  Maya gathered her courage and pulled herself up out of the ditch. She approached the angry woman and stopped about ten feet away. “Excuse me. Can I please have some water?”

  The woman halted, blinking at her as though she’d spoken an alien dialect.

  She tried to think back to the handful of Chinese language e-learns she’d dabbled with. “Gěi wǒ shuǐ? Please? I haven’t had anything to drink for days.” Maya twisted her toes in the dirt and added a needy whine.

  The woman cringed. “Stick to English. Where did you come from? Who are you working for?”

  “I live in Block Thirteen.” Maya crept closer. “I’m not a thief.”

  The woman sighed. “Okay. I can give you some water, but watch your hands.” She gestured with a beckoning wave and pointed at a rickety wooden porch on the house trailer before going inside.

  Maya scurried up and sat on the second step, facing toward the culvert she came from with her back to the trailer. In the daylight, the store where she’d met the Sons of Jeva blended into the surroundings, becoming another unremarkable square in the landscape. No sign of the men remained. She brushed dried mud off her foot, fidgeted, and searched the cloudy sky for the elusive source of a drone fan’s whirr.

  A dirt path stretched to her left, leading across a rough, dead meadow to a far distant collection of stacked oceanic cargo boxes and a handful of more solid buildings. She remembered Headcrash talking about stashing her in a place called the Spread, and proceeded to frighten herself by thinking about what it would have felt like had they left her trapped inside one of the containers. Multiple scenarios played out in her mind, each scarier than the last.

  A few minutes later, two older teen boys emerged from the tall grass following a curve on the path, walking closer. She ducked and pulled her hair down over her face. The scuff of their shoes grew louder. Maya sat as still as she could and tried to become part of the porch, using her body to keep the knife out of sight. Please don’t steal my stuff. Her attention drifted to the rumble of a distant green cargo truck with white Nutrimax markings. An Authority van followed close, protecting a shipment of food heading for the Sanctuary Zone from outlying farms.

  Maya shivered at the memory of how she used to react to news of Nons and Frags being shot for trying to assault the grow facilities. Of course, the media called them terrorists attempting to compromise the food supply. After living out here, she thought it more likely they had attacked out of hunger, trying to take food. She stared at the convoy until it passed out of sight to the left, sinking into the endless rolling meadow grass.

  The boys halted a few paces away. One wore a common voluminous grey coat-jacket with the built-in rebreather, and dark pants. The other had no shirt, and an exposed strip of white underwear ringed his waist above the baggiest pair of drab green pants she’d ever seen. Both had sneakers that looked older than her.

  “Missy Hong,” shouted the one in the jacket. “You here?”

  “Ya, ya,” yelled the woman from inside. “Be right out.”

  Maya sat in awkward silence, concentrating on her want to be ignored. Icarus had wanted to visit this woman to buy more Vesper. She’d stumbled straight into the den of a drug dealer. Fear almost got her running, but extreme thirst won out and she stayed put. Two-ish minutes later, Missy emerged from the trailer and set a large plastic cup of water down on the porch next to her. When Maya looked up with a grateful smile, the woman offered her a blue plastic plate with two doughy pillows on it, each the size of a man’s fist.

  “You’re skin and bones. Poor thing.”

  “Thank you.” Maya set the plate in her lap and drank half the water first.

  “Missy Hong,” said the shirtless kid. “What’s good? Got any Soul-Razr?”

  “Dandelion Wine for me,” said his friend.

  They both held up NuCoins, clear plastic discs with two sides cut flat, which gave them an overall shape like thumbprints. The modern currency shimmered with rainbow holograms embedded within. People in the Sanctuary Zone still spoke of dollars more often than NuCoin, but those existed only as numbers in computers now.

  “How much you want?” asked Missy.

  “Whatever I can get for three,” said the bare-chested kid. He held up three coins.

  “Soul-Razr’s hard to come by, big boy. Eight per ride. I got your Dandelions no problem. Twenty for ten.”

  “Pussy shit,” said shirtless.

  “Maybe, but the ride ain’t half bad and it won’
t make my brain explode.”

  Maya tuned out the rest of the deal and feasted on the dumplings, getting two bites into the second one before the boys walked away and Missy sat next to her. Maya glanced left and up at her, but didn’t slow down eating.

  “Yeah, you looked hungry.” Missy brushed Maya’s hair off her face. “There’s a story in those eyes.”

  Sensing a possible sympathetic ear, Maya explained about her mother being taken by the Authority and how she’d decided to go to the Sanctuary Zone to get her back. She omitted who she really was, which likely made the entire story seem ridiculous, as evidenced by the incredulous―and somewhat patronizing―look Missy gave her.

  “That’s a hell of a tale. You’re going to need more than that knife to beat a city full of blueberries. If you’ve got nowhere to go, I could use a little runner.”

  Maya shook her head. “I can’t. I have to get my mom back. And wouldn’t people just beat me up and steal the drugs?”

  “Well, you supposed to be small and sneaky… but once word’s out you with Missy Hong, no one dare touch you. Everyone knows me, and the people I work for. You tell ‘em you run for me, they leave you alone.”

  Or kill me so I can’t tell on them. “I have to at least try to help my mom. You’re really nice.” She chomped down on more dumpling, chewed, and swallowed. “I’m too little to have a knife. I don’t really even know why I grabbed it. Can I trade it for the food or maybe some pants… shoes?”

  “You don’t have to trade for it. I not let ya starve. You not gonna get her out of there with or without a knife, and I don’t have anything your size.”

  Maya’s throat tightened. “Can you help me? I’ll make deliveries for you if you can get my mom back.”

  “My influence is out here.” Missy gestured around. “Inside the Sanc, we operate in the shadows. Authority is easy enough to pay off, but they only look other way. They don’t take requests. Cannot order person out of jail like calling a pizza.”