by David Beers
Ludicrous names, Yule thought, one that had come to him a million times before. He quickly banished it, though, as he looked at the two faces on the bottom. Not the top—not the High Priest—but the other two … they were stricken.
Is this what I look like? he wondered.
Their skin appeared tighter across their skulls. Black, half circles beneath their eyes. Not quite terror, but something very close—a brother or sister of it—sat on their faces like masks. Ones they couldn’t take off.
Yule looked down for a second, gathering his thoughts, trying to force the brief shock from his mind. He’d never seen these people in such a state, hadn’t actually thought it possible. They were the rulers of the world, or supposed to be.
He looked back up.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” Yule said, having called the congress a few hours before. His words were, of course, only formalities. These people had better meet any time he asked—their lives, and the lives of everyone on Earth, depended on it. “I’m going to assume that your territories are as bad off as the Old World?”
The bottom two Ministers nodded. The High Priest only stared, his face unmoving. It dropped to the bottom, though—and thank God—as the One Path’s leader spoke. Trinant One.
So silly, Yule thought, unable to help himself.
“I’ve lost control of 85% of my territory. Cities have completely fallen from the sky. Whole cities.” Her face wasn’t quite sickened, but close. Yule understood the feeling at once, and perhaps for the first time during his Papacy, he felt kinship with her. Regardless of their different faiths and the walls they’d built between one another, they all faced the same thing now. Annihilation.
The Constant’s Representative spoke, his face taking over the tarp’s top. “My percentages are a little higher than that. We’ve lost everything here. Our communication grid is down. Our robotics have simply stopped working. I mean … the dead. They’re uncountable.”
No one spoke for a second, it clear that everyone was waiting on the High Priest to speak.
He cleared his throat. “From what I understand, the same is happening inside the True Faith.”
Yule nearly shook his head in disbelief. From what he understands … The man was unbelievable.
“I’ve been researching what our ancestors did the last time the Black arrived,” the Constant’s Representative—Benten—said. He obviously wasn’t paying as much attention to the High Priest as Yule, which was probably a good thing. Yule knew he gave too much importance to the man.
“We got lucky with Veritros,” the High Priest said, interrupting the others. “Your Citadel was completely destroyed, Benten.”
“Perhaps so, but there are still lessons we can learn.”
“Enlighten us, then,” the High said.
“Somehow, they discovered she was heading to the Old World. To the Nile River. That’s where we met her, and my advisors think that it’ll be an important spot for this weapon as well. We think the new one will return to the Nile. Maybe that’s where he is supposed to set up a capital, or maybe he’s supposed to make contact with the Black there.”
The room was quiet for a second.
“That’s … impressive,” Yule said. Yule had focused on only two goals over the past few days: saving people in the Old World from the brutal war hoist upon them, and working on Daniel Sesam to give him information about his daughter. He hadn’t looked into the past at all—not since his first meeting with the historian and scientist. The present had consumed him.
“Why the Nile?” Trinant asked.
“The Biblical meanings are almost endless,” Yule said.
“I’m not as concerned with those,” Benten responded, “but from an evolutionary perspective, it has significance. Humanity first began in Africa, and most likely around a water source. The Nile could have something to do with it.”
“High Priest,” Yule said, “do you have any idea where the weapon is now?”
“No.”
“And any updates on trying to apprehend him?”
The High Priest was quiet for a second, peering out at Yule as if he was a strange insect. The look caused goosebumps to rise on Yule’s arms, but he remained still. Finally, the High spoke, “We’re working backdoor channels to contact the informant again. We think that’s our best opportunity to find out where he’s heading.”
“We want access to the informant,” Trinant said.
“Not possible.”
“Why?”
“We’re not going to risk spooking the informant by having every Ministry in the world contact them. They could change allegiances any moment, and might have already, given that it looks like the Black may win.”
“I think we need to focus on the Nile,” Benten said. “We should concentrate forces there, and when he arrives, we eliminate him.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” the High Priest asked. “What’s your plan then?”
“What is your plan?” the Constant’s Representative snapped back.
“I already told you. We will work the informant until we have the weapon’s whereabouts.”
And in that moment, Yule knew the High Priest had taken Nicki Sesam. Perhaps she wasn’t yet in his possession, but the person who took her was his envoy. Without any doubt. For their last conversation was dominated with talk about the sight and the Old World’s program. Now, though, the High Priest mentioned none of it.
You took her. You came here to my world and you took her. But why? What are you going to do with her? What are you planning?
“I agree with Benten. The One Path will support a Nile River resolution. I think that’s going to be our best chance. What does the Old World say?”
Yule was still looking at the High Priest. He heard the question, but wasn’t interested in answering it.
“You took her, didn’t you?” the Pope asked. “You came here and you took the woman with the sight?”
No one said anything; they all knew who Yule’s question was aimed at.
“No.”
“That’s a lie. We have video of it, High Priest. Someone took her, just as we were trying to detain her. Someone other than us took her, and it was you.”
The High Priest shook his head, a sick smile appearing on his face. It was the first time Yule had seen such a thing. For years Yule thought the man was slightly off—but in that moment, when his lips pulled back over his small teeth, Yule understood the man was insane.
Not odd. Not strange. Not even evil.
He was insane. The world he saw … it wasn’t the same one Yule saw, or anyone else at this meeting.
“I didn’t take her, old Priest. So stop accusing me of it.”
“What are you going to do with her?” Yule asked. “Why would you do that and not tell us?”
“Is this true?” Trinant asked.
A chuckle from the High Priest. “No. Ask yourselves the same questions he just asked me. Why would I do it? Why wouldn’t I tell you all? What could I possibly gain? The world is ending and withholding anything from you makes no sense.”
“You’re withholding the informant.”
“But not the information about them,” the High Priest said. His voice was easy, not a hint of reproach or defensiveness in it.
Yule was quiet, feeling sweat on his brow and palms. The man was lying. Four people were supposed to hold the line against a creature not of this universe, and one of them had lost his mind.
Lord, direct me. Tell me what to do, because I don’t know how to reason with a man who has no ability to do so.
They were no longer fighting a single entity, but now they also had to fight this man—yet Yule wasn’t sure anyone else realized it yet. How were they supposed to survive this, when they couldn’t trust the people next to them?
Moments passed in silence and then the High Priest said, “So, Pope, are you going to support this Nile River Resolution, or do you have another plan?”
Yule walked quickly down the hallway, his ro
bes flying behind him. The meeting ended only moments before, and Yule had wasted no time. He’d been foolish and saw that now. It was his faith—that was the problem. His belief in God, the one of Abraham, made him think that the Catholic Church, the Old World, would always exist. That God had blessed them both, and it didn’t matter what the outsiders did, His blessing would suffice.
Yule had been wrong, though.
If God worked in mysterious ways, then his fallen angel Lucifer did the same.
Yule rounded a corner and then past the orderly sitting in front of Sesam’s room. The man tried to stand, his eyes widening as he recognized who was here. Yule didn’t knock on the door, but simply opened it, stepping inside.
Sesam was on his bed, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He looked to the door, though he didn’t move.
“I know who has her,” Yule said.
Sesam sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. “Who?”
“The True Faith is bringing her to their High Priest. She’s on the way now.”
“Can you get her back?” Sesam asked.
Yule closed the door behind him. Their last conversation hadn’t ended well, at least by the measure of Yule not getting what he wanted from it—the barometer that decided all conversations, he supposed. Do we get what our egos desire?
Sesam hadn’t been in any shape to talk after Yule’s tour of the Old World. The Pope hadn’t been sure if it was a mistake to show him, but by the end, he thought it probably was. The man had only stared out of the drone with tear filled eyes. He said few words and when Yule asked for his help, he hadn’t answered at all.
Daniel Sesam had first lost his daughter, then the world he grew up in.
Yule brought him back to the Vatican and told him he’d return.
Now, looking at Sesam, Yule thought he appeared better. His face wasn’t as haunted and his eyes clear.
“Can you?” Sesam asked again, more urgency in his voice—and Yule liked that. He wanted the man to feel some urgency, finally.
“I don’t know. So far, we haven’t been able to locate her or the man that took her. Most likely he’s part of an elite force, so he’s trained in deception. I imagine the High Priest has many capable people.” Yule walked closer so that he stood in front of Sesam’s bed. “I know you had the sight too, Mr. Sesam. Maybe it’s not strong anymore, but it’s better than anything else we have.”
“What will they do to her?” the father asked.
“I’m being honest when I tell you that I don’t know. The High Priest, the man in charge of the True Faith, he’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. You may distrust me, the Church, and religion. Perhaps people have given you reason to as well. This man, though, holds none of the ideals that you do, none that I do, either. If you want to protect your daughter, then you need to help me.”
Sesam stood and Yule stepped back. Sesam walked left, toward the room’s window, ignoring the Pope. Yule followed him and looked beyond, past the window at the outside world.
“She saw him,” Sesam said. “The man with the gray eyes. We were running from you, with that psychopath you sent after her. She had me pull over to the side of the road and she said he was standing in the middle of this field. I couldn’t see anything. Just open grass. But she said he was there.”
“The weapon,” Yule said. He didn’t doubt Sesam at all.
“The first time, too. When the sight first came to her. She saw him in our restaurant, though I think it was different that time. I think that was the sight. The second time, in the field … he was watching her. I think he knows she exists; maybe he can feel her.” Sesam didn’t turn around, but kept his eyes on the window. The smoke was still rising outside the Vatican’s walls. Maybe God would smell it, the burning bodies, and send help.
“A lot of people are after your daughter, Mr. Sesam. I’m the only one who doesn’t want to harm her. I won’t lie to you. If we find her, I will use her … to help stop the destruction you see outside. But I won’t harm her. I won’t change her. If it’s possible, I’ll set her loose.”
Sesam was still for a while and Yule finally spoke again.
“Every minute that passes is a minute that your daughter moves closer to the High Priest.”
“I’ll help,” Sesam said. “I don’t know what I can do. The sight hasn’t come to me in a long time. It’s mostly dead. But if I can help, I will.”
Yule’s mind was incorrigible, and he couldn’t help it. He thought about saying a joke he’d heard, one that went back ages and was said in an accent that no longer existed … Ve have vays of making you talk.
Yule grinned, but only for a second. The smoke rising outside his city’s walls wiped the smile from his face quickly.
“We might be able to assist with that,” he said.
“What the hell is all of this?” Daniel asked.
Daniel stood next to a doctor of some sort, Dr. Franklin Lane. The Pope had made the introduction and now the three of them stood in a room that looked as old as the Old World. There were at least another ten people, all working on machines that Daniel might have asked about, but would never really understand.
Daniel sneezed at the dust floating across the room. Seven hours had passed since he agreed to help the Pope, and Daniel hated every single second. He’d been allowed to leave his room, but there weren’t a lot of places for him to go.
“The Most Holy Father will return when he’s finished,” the orderly outside had said.
Daniel saw now why it had taken so long. The walk down here had taken close to an hour, traveling across the Vatican then down what felt like endless stairs.
Daniel knew the lighting in here must have been installed during the past few hours, because no one had entered this room for a long, long time.
The Pope was quiet to Daniel’s question, but Daniel didn’t notice. He only stared with the rest of them at the work being done.
The machines looked as ancient as the room, and Daniel realized that despite the Church’s refusal to update technologically, there had been advances. The machines in front of him looked like they might have been used to torture people.
“What are they?” he asked again, his mind pulling him from the frightening wonders.
“These are from the original experiments,” Dr. Lane said.
“Experiments?” Daniel asked.
“The sight. No one knew what would happen in the beginning.”
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“They’re going to work,” the Pope said. “That’s what these people are here to do. Make sure they work.”
“What exactly is your plan?” Daniel asked, not turning from the machines. It was clear that people stepped into them, and lay back at a slight incline. There were metal casings for the legs, torso, and arms. Extending from the torso was a helmet of some kind—about the only somewhat modern thing attached. It looked like plastic, and obviously just cleaned, as it held none of the dust that floated around the rest of the room.
“We’re going to strap you in and turn it on,” the Pope said.
Daniel looked to him, seeing a slight grin.
The man had a sense of humor, at least.
“Seriously, though, the plan isn’t that far from it. Tell him, Dr. Lane,” the Pope said.
The scientist was closer to the machines, looking at two of the men working on the left one.
“Theoretically, and all of this is just theory, we should be able to amplify whatever sight you once possessed. Your brain still contains the necessary hardware, it just lacks the … power. That’s the simplest way I can put it. Hooking you up to these will let you access your sight again.”
“Access it?” Daniel asked. “I never had the ability to access anything. It came and went on its own.”
“Then I guess we hope it comes now,” Dr. Lane said, not looking over.
Daniel turned to the Pope. “You guys have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
The Pope’s smirk was there, although Daniel thought kind
ness lay underneath it. “No. Not really. The people that started this didn’t understand much, and the Church hasn’t been involved with it for a long, long time.”
“I’m not even going to ask if this thing will kill me.”
“It’s probably best you don’t. I wouldn’t be able to answer you anyway.”
“Why are there only three? There’s no way you created the sight just three people at a time,” Daniel said.
“There are other rooms like this, but they’re all bricked over. This one was, too, but we excavated it,” the Pope said.
Daniel sighed and looked at the men working on the three machines. Two were at the back wall, dealing with a panel—something else that looked slightly more modern.
“These guys working? How much do they know about it?” Daniel asked.
“More than me,” the Pope said. He stepped closer so that the two stood next to each other, their shoulders almost touching. “I’m joking a lot right now and I apologize. My mind and tongue don’t always do as they should, and though I pray about it, God doesn’t give any indication that he wants to relieve me of this curse. The people down here have been working nonstop for three days, Daniel. We didn’t just start this when you agreed to do it; I’d been planning since the war broke out. These men are quiet now, but I’ve been speaking with them constantly. They say it’ll work. They’re running tests to simulate what it’ll be like with a human being inside, and the tests look good.”
“What about him? Lane?” Daniel asked.
“He gives us more perspective. He understands the science behind the sight—or as much as anyone can. Either way, it doesn’t really matter what anyone says, does it? Because you’ve got to get in that apparatus and try to find your daughter.”
Daniel couldn’t refute it, not a word.
The holy man was right.
“How long until it’s ready?”
“They told me an hour,” the Pope said.
Rhett was being kept awake, and also silent.
At first, he’d fought the Disciple, and the pain had been unbearable. Worse even than the bullet lodged in his shoulder. He quickly decided that struggling was a useless endeavor and quit.