by Paul Anlee
Nigel scowled at the thought. Priests should stick to the realm of spirit and faith, and leave systems management and politics to those who are bred for it. For that matter, anyone who’s bound by such narrow-minded righteousness certainly shouldn’t be trusted anywhere near the levers of power.
He walked up to the starstep map, and placed his index finger on the red “You are here” dot. The intricate rat’s nest of colored lines reminded him of the old subway system maps they used on Earth except, in this case, he’d be hopping from asteroid to asteroid.
The “transit priests” had done a respectable job posting color-coded maps indicating the various destinations one could access from each starstep. A few days after they’d appeared, the priests had posted digital maps of the entire system and made them available from everyone’s cell phone.
I have to admit, they did better than I expected. I’ll give them that much. Nigel tapped his fingernail on the dot while he studied his options. Every starstep joined to dozens of others, most in the same habitat or asteroid, but some connected Vesta with Ceres or Pallas, and vice versa.
The priests interpreted their main function as praying, and helping people give appropriate thanks to their Lord for the miracle of public transportation that Yeshua had brought to the asteroids.
For without sincere prayer, the starsteps would not work.
Nigel remembered his professor of Comparative Theology at Oxford being fond of saying, “The Lord has always been a demanding and jealous God. The God of the Old Testament exhorts His followers to worship Him and Him alone.”
Instead of making Nigel more devout to one God, the professor had inadvertently seeded Nigel’s mind with the question of whether their God was the only god, or simply supreme among the gods. Sadly, Comparative Theology had been of no help in answering that question.
For over two thousand years, God had worked in subtle and mysterious ways, ways that required faith to convince oneself it was truly Him at work.
Now, if one were to believe Alum’s preaching, God had returned to active duty and was taking an objectively obvious, easily-verified, and direct hand in the daily lives of His people.
The miracle of instantaneous transportation was certainly undeniable. Within weeks of appearing, everybody—including himself—had used a starstep at least once. In return, God asked nothing more than the sincere gratitude of His followers for the miracle He wrought over and over every day. Not a bad exchange!
In many ways, Nigel preferred the distant and mysterious God of his youth over this new Supreme Lord whose hand was once again active in the daily affairs of humanity. True, the data, facts, and tangible evidence right here in front of all were measurable, provable, and less susceptible to interpretation, but the Mystery of the old days was malleable and could be shaped to manipulate people when needed.
And the masses required manipulation on a regular basis—he remembered. It was so tedious to have to kowtow to public opinion. Good thing it was so easily swayed in one’s direction. The hint of a smile appeared on his lips.
Hodge traced his finger along the route, and nodded decisively. He walked up to the podium and told the priest his destination.
“Ceres 3. The closest possible access to Rainbow River, please.”
The priest consulted his transit guide and directed the Councillor to wait off to one side with three others while a larger group shifted to Pallas One. He strode over to the designated group and stood quietly, a little apart from the others.
The three travellers were immersed in conversation, and Nigel made no effort to intrude. He caught a few words, something about someone’s savings account being used against their will to pay their neighbor’s bills. He turned his back to the group and smiled to himself.
The plan he and Debbie Cutter had developed to destabilize the current Administration, and in particular Alum, was going well. His old friend Jared Strang had played surprisingly well into their hand. What an unexpected stroke of good luck that was, Jared bringing in the Cybrids to help.
With the riots in Vesta Five last week, the population was riled up. Anti-Cybrid sentiment was dangerously high and showing no signs of abating. The arrival of the frightening new Securitor units compounded the general fear and prejudice; deploying them to suppress protestors only served to increase public distrust of all mechanical beings and of authority in general.
Yes, the time was ripe. He and Cutter could discredit Alum, the Cybrids, and the remnants of the previous Administration all at once.
Oh, that will be a marvelous day! He smiled and resumed whistling quietly.
The group ahead of his stepped onto the raised starstep platform and kneeled in prayer.
“Oh Lord,” they said in heartfelt unison. “Thank you for this miracle of free movement. Your grace and majesty shines upon us and fills our world with Your blessings. Our hearts are moved by Your love and the love of Your only son, Yeshua, as our bodies are moved by Your holy power.”
They stood. The priest mumbled a few other words into the podium and they disappeared, as millions had disappeared from YTG Churches around the world on the day of the Great Exodus.
Hodge hadn’t been inside Alum’s innermost circle of advisers at the time, so he had no idea how the man had orchestrated that particular miracle.
Strang tried to tell him it was simple technology, something invented by Greg Mahajani and usurped by Alum for his own purposes. He tried to convince Hodge this was how Alum had shipped the vast majority of colonists on the asteroids in the first place. But Hodge wasn’t buying it.
There’d been no hint at all of instantaneous transportation technology on Earth in the years leading up to development of the asteroid colonies. Plus, he’d watched rockets taking off for Vesta with shipment after shipment of recruits from Earth. Seen them with his very own eyes.
Besides, Strang was a closet agnostic, inclined to believe more in science than the Creator. Strang still thought humans capable of almost anything, using nothing more than the power of their own brains.
Hodge was no fool. He could recognize a miracle when it stood up and slapped him in the face. The starsteps are an outright miracle, not human-developed technology! A display of God’s infinite power and knowledge, plain and simple.
The priest waved Hodge’s group forward.
The Councillor had taken the starstep often before. One instant, you were in one place and, the next, you were somewhere else. And it happened with no detectable transition. Poof! You arrived at your destination! If that wasn’t a miracle, what was?
He was excited about the trip. Fishing was one thing, moving across outer space in a flash was something else. He adopted an appropriately reverent attitude and stepped onto the platform.
The four travelers said the prayer, helped along by the priest when nerves caused memory to falter. They stood and bowed their heads. A second later, they were standing on a similar platform in a field on the shore of the Rainbow River.
Hodge’s old countryman, Jared Strang, was calling, “Hello!” from beside a small electric vehicle at the edge of the platform. Fishing rods, tackle boxes, and hip waders occupied the back seat.
“Looks like you’ve thought of everything! How far do you think we need to go for good fishing?” Hodge stepped up into the passenger side of the car and closed the door. The vehicle looked more like a rugged golf cart than a traditional automobile.
Ah! But it has a steering wheel—Nigel noted. It’s meant for manual control off-road. Outside of the central region of the service tunnel, autonomous driving would no longer be an option.
“The best fishing is high up in the hills near the south cap,” Strang replied. “About two hours away.”
“That far? I didn’t bring a flask.”
Strang reached into a satchel on the seat behind him and pulled out a thermos. “Sorry. This was the best I could do.”
Hodge unscrewed the lid and sniffed. He pulled away quickly. “Bloody hell, Jared! What is that?”
> Strang laughed, “Irish coffee. Takes the sting out of the cold waters.”
“More Irish than coffee, I’ll wager. A few cups of this and I’m likely to fall asleep in those same waters.”
“It would make the trip out easier,” Strang said, throwing the vehicle into drive. It jerked onto a gravel road, and followed the river upstream.
“If you’re going to drive like that, I’ll be taking a few swigs now,” Hodge joked in a well-practiced Irish accent. “To steady me nerves, y’know.”
As the car bounced along, Hodge carefully poured a few ounces of the strong brew into his plastic travel mug and took a sip.
“Ahhh! You do know how to start a fishing expedition, old man.” He relaxed back into his seat.
“Are you going to save some of that for me?” Strang plucked the cup from Hodge’s hand and downed the remainder of the warm contents. He passed the empty mug back to his friend.
Hodge peered at the bottom of the cup. “Going to be one of those days, is it?”
“Just getting you prepared to meet someone,” Strang said as they neared the top of the next rise.
“So we’re going to start off with the business, then?”
“Otherwise, I’d have saved the thermos until we reached the stream.”
Hodge grimaced. “I’ll likely need more by the time we get there.”
Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Strang lifted the flap of his satchel. There were three more thermoses inside.
“Ha!” Hodge barked. “You always knew how to prepare for a meeting.” He poured another drink, downed the hot liquid as fast as he could, and poured a fresh cup for Strang.
“So, who are we seeing today? One of your Progressive Justice party mates, or some honest broker?”
“A bit of both. I think you’ll find what she has to say very interesting.”
“She? You’ve not taken to getting your marching orders from a woman, have you?”
“Really, Nigel. Misogyny in this day and age? That doesn’t become you. Anyway, she’s more of a partner, really. Somewhat like your own co-Councillor,” Strang said. He held his friend’s gaze for a few seconds beyond what was comfortable.
Hodge looked away, and his eyes traveled to the top of the hill ahead. He couldn’t see anyone standing amongst the young trees at the summit. The vehicle slowed as it approached the peak, then turned into a low clearing and came to a stop ten meters from the polished carboceramic sphere of DAR-K.
Hodge turned to his friend, “A Cybrid? You never fail to surprise, old man.”
Strang stepped out of the vehicle and headed toward DAR-K. He stopped midway between her and the car and gave a half-bow of greeting.
The Cybrid dipped in reply.
Strang turned back to Hodge, who remained seated in the car.
“DAR-K is not just any Cybrid.”
“Not the DAR-K! The one that attacked Administration HQ?” Hodge asked.
“The very same,” the Cybrid answered. “Happy to meet you at last, Councillor.” She bobbed again.
Hodge glared at Strang. “Are you insane? This one is dangerous. Do you know what it did?”
“I received the same reports as you,” Strang answered. “But I know the difference between political spin and the real story. The official reports did not tell the complete truth.”
“And what is the complete truth?”
DAR-K interrupted. “The complete truth is that I lost my temper. My display may have been more dramatic than necessary.”
“That depends on what you were trying to accomplish,” Hodge said. “If you wanted the habitat trembling in fear at the mere thought of Cybrids, I think you accomplished that.”
“I think you have us confused with Alum’s Securitors,” DAR-K replied.
“Aren’t you all one and the same? All Cybrids?” Hodge challenged.
“No,” she replied. “We are not Securitors. We, the original Cybrids, only want peace…and justice.”
Hodge snorted, “Hmph! Justice? For machines?”
Strang jumped in quickly. “Now, let’s not be judgmental. Hear us out. Please.”
The man’s use of the word “us” did not go unnoticed. “Very well,” Hodge answered. He got out of the vehicle and joined his old friend and political opponent. “What do you want from me?”
“We want you to join us,” DAR-K said.
“What?” Hodge glanced warily at Strang. “Join who?” he demanded.
Strang made direct eye contact. “DAR-K and several other Cybrids with political and leadership experience are members of our party now,” he replied.
“Cybrids can’t vote and they certainly can’t run for office.”
DAR-K saw it differently. “That will all change within the month. The Cybrids will soon be granted the rights enjoyed by all other people.”
Hodge spat out his disbelief. “Wha’…How…. No, Alum would never….”
“Yes, he will. He knows if he doesn’t, the Cybrids will withdraw and leave humans to their own fate. Without us, I doubt it will be long before he is ripped forcefully from office.”
Hodge took a few angry steps back toward the vehicle. He stopped and pointed accusingly at Strang.
“This was your plan all along. To get the Cybrids involved!”
“It’s DAR-K’s plan. Apparently, Alum’s construction of the Securitors went too far.”
“They’re a crime against my people, and yours. You just don’t see that yet,” DAR-K said flatly. “In any case, the Securitor project has been terminated. We will get our rights. We will vote in this election, and we will have representatives on Council.”
Strang smiled. “Who knows? Our candidate may even win the Presidency.”
Hodge stared at him. “Humphrey? That bloated, bumbling bureaucrat? Not a chance.” His eyes rolled in an exaggerated arc. “Unless…you’re not planning on a Cybrid for President?” He laughed in disbelief. “No one, and I mean no one, would agree to be ruled by a machine.”
“Jared and I coordinated many activities in the colonies back in the early days,” DAR-K said. “Along with Kathy Liang.”
Hodge said nothing; his eyes darted rapidly back and forth between human and Cybrid. He walked to the edge of the clearing and stood silently; his eyes fixed on the forest while his mind calculated. Jared and DAR-K knew better than to disturb him; he needed to work things out for himself.
After a few minutes, he picked up the conversation where they’d left off.
“Okay. Let’s imagine, just for the moment, that what you two are saying is true. Alum grants full citizen rights to the Cybrids and they join with you in the Progressive Justice party. That’s all jolly good fun but why would I, or any of my people, want to get involved with you?”
DAR-K answered, “Because we know what you and Ms. Cutter have been up to, Mr. Hodge. More importantly, Alum knows. And he knows that we know.”
Hodge sputtered, “Been up to? What? Working our tails off for this Administration? Because that’s all we’ve been up to.”
“Don’t forget sabotage and conspiracy,” DAR-K replied. “My people have been chasing after you for some months now.”
“You have nothing connecting me to any of that.”
“Oh, really? I’m sure you remember this conversation. When was it? About twenty-eight days and…fourteen point seven hours ago, if I’m not mistaken.”
The Cybrid played back snippets of a meeting between Hodge and Cutter that had taken place a month earlier.
Nigel recognized his and Cutter’s voices coming from DAR-K’s speaker. The conversation was damning.
“How did you get that?” he demanded.
“Someone noticed how often the two of you frequented Hiram’s,” Strang replied. “It seemed odd, given that your offices are a two minute walk from each other in the Central Administration building. So we bugged the place.”
“You can’t use this as evidence; it’s illegally acquired. Anyway, no one would believe you.”
“They won’t need to believe me in order for it to hurt your chances in the election. And trust me, this is only the tip of the iceberg. We have enough evidence to jail both of you, along with a number of your co-conspirators.”
“You think I’d accept that on your say so?”
“I thought you might say that. Look at Jared’s tablet. The most damning documents are already there.”
Strang extracted a tablet from his inside pocket, and held it for his fellow Councillor.
Hodge flipped through a trail of private emails, work orders, and secret payments. It was as bad as DAR-K said.
He pushed the tablet back to Strang. “Do you really believe that bullying me into switching parties will serve your goals?”
“It’s not all stick, Nigel. There’s a bit of a carrot in it for you, too. Don’t forget, Alum knows what you’ve been up to. We can protect you from him. He has as much evidence as we do; it won’t be long before he acts on it.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“As good as your people or his people may be, DAR-K is much better. You know that she’s templated from Kathy Liang? The Dr. Kathy Liang?”
“Yes, yes. So?”
“I’m much more than a copy of Kathy Liang’s concepta and persona,” DAR-K said. “I am Kathy Liang in every important way.”
She let that sink in.
Confused, Hodge could only stare, jaw agape, until realization struck.
“No, that was not permitted,” he said.
“Kathy—that is to say, I—was in charge of the Cybrid development program as much as the Vesta Project. I included my own lattice enhancements into this processing unit. I am Kathy Liang.”
“You can close your mouth now,” Strang said. “I know how you feel. It hit me pretty hard when I first learned of it, too. I’m glad Dr. Liang took the steps she did. DAR-K is the person most qualified to lead us, to lead all of us, Nigel.” His eyes pleaded with his friend’s.
Hodge couldn’t bear the intensity of Strang’s gaze. He looked away. He clasped his hands behind his neck, tilted his head back, and let out a loud sigh.