by Phoenix Ward
“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.
26
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 remarkably 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.”
The three of them continued on in silence, the sound of their shoes, sandals, and metal feet echoing through the massive chamber. Once they reached the opposite wall, in which an enormous door was set, Orram turned to face the two guests.
“This is the throne room,” he told them. “Ultimately, King Hum is a wise and compassionate leader. If he has deemed to listen to you, know that he will listen with an open mind. Don’t feel intimidated, you are safe in these walls. I will be there to help should any elaboration be required.”
With that, he opened the large door and gestured for them to lead the way inside. The entrance was large enough to accommodate both Ethan and Tera, shoulder-to-shoulder.
The throne room was much smaller than Ethan imagined. From all his time in fantasy role-playing games and medieval education programs, he expected it to be as large as the great hall. Most monarchs seemed to make their throne rooms an auditorium, vast enough to hold a large number of subjects, who should all be so lucky to be in their leader’s presence. At least, that’s how Ethan had seen it depicted. Instead, the Opesian throne room was little more than a classroom. The throne that sat the front of the room was exquisite indeed — fine wood carved into the delicate recreation of the planet earth, flattened to allow someone to sit in it. However, it sat behind a bland stone desk, which seemed to ruin the royal vibe. Instead, it looked more like the office of a C.E.O., not the throne room of a king.
Behind the desk, at his throne, sat the young King Hum. He was younger than either Ethan or Tera imagined. At most, he was only a few years older than them, if his complexion was anything to go off. His face was finely tanned, a narrow, short beard leading from his lip to his chin. His hair was clipped to such a length that it was barely visible under the crown of bejeweled antlers he wore. His clothing, though colorful and ornate, was no different in style from the humble robe Orram wore. King Hum’s face was void of emotion as we watched the three enter his chamber.
“Good afternoon, your grace,” Orram said, bowing as he did when Tera and Ethan had first arrived.
“And to you,” the young king replied, returning a short bow from his seated position. Then he turned to greet the others. “I welcome you to our holy kingdom and bless your presence here. I hope you have been enjoying your stay.”
Ethan and Tera, looking at each other for a bit of reassurance, offered a bow similar to Orram’s.
“Thank you for meeting us, your Grace,” Tera said. “We are grateful for your audience. Our stay in Opes has been nothing short of delightful.”
“Wonderful,” King Hum said, smiling. His face didn’t even wrinkle.
“Your grace, we’ve come to ask you for your help,” Ethan started.
“I’ve been given a summary, but I prefer to hear the details as you’ve prepared them,” the man in the throne replied. “Feel free to make your case — and don’t feel hurried. My ears are wide open, as is my mind.”
“People in Shell City are suffering,” Ethan said. Tera nodded her agreement, internally relieved that he chose to go first. “As I’m sure you know, the Council that rules the city is cruel and oppressive. They’ve created a divide in the people so they are too busy fighting with each other to focus on the injustice being done to them.”
He paused for a moment, expecting King Hum to interrupt with a comment or some insight. The young monarch never did, though. He listened without any indication that he wanted to interrupt. There was a calm about his patience.
“Your grace, I unders
tand how your people feel about installed intelligences like myself,” Tera said, rescuing her partner. “I don’t blame you for not wanting that kind of existence for your own people. Every day, however, I.I.s are persecuted just like their human counterparts. It’s not about race, or mortality, or whatever. It’s about power and wealth. Like it’s always been.”
“I acknowledge the personage, and therefore the suffering, of our I.I. brothers and sisters,” King Hum said. “Though our religion doesn’t encourage the lifestyle people like you have, it does nothing to diminish your humanity. We do not believe that beings such as yourself can get into paradise, but that doesn’t make you any less of a person. My heart aches for all who are oppressed, regardless of what their bodies are made of. However, I have flesh-and-blood people, right here in Opes, who would be in danger if we helped you against the Council. People would die, you see, and no matter the injustice your leaders enact on you, my people cannot pay for it.”
“It’s not just the I.I.s, your grace,” Ethan started. “I get why you want to look out for your people, but there are flesh-and-blood people in Shell City being held against their will.”
The young king’s eyebrow cocked, but he remained silent.
“That’s right,” Ethan continued. “The Council is keeping human children in a computer simulation in order to harvest their bodies.”
King Hum and Adviser Orram shared a look of horror as the young man spoke.
“I was once captive in this system, before the People’s Union freed me,” Ethan said. “If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here today. My body might be, sure, but it would be a fancy suit for some rich I.I. to walk around in. They would have destroyed my brain, effectively killing me. I was lucky, but thousands of others are not. We need your help.”
King Hum lowered his gaze to the desk and thought for a moment. Everyone in the throne room was still.
“I did not know about this terrible practice,” King Hum said. “But surely we can’t act on your word alone.”