The Prophet: Life: A Sci-Fi Thriller

by David Beers

  “You’re not thinking clearly, Mr. Sesam, and that’s okay. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t be either. If you go get her, who is going to continue speaking with her? What if they do change directions? What if they decide to go somewhere else, but you’re out there in the One Path, flying around in those vast cities? What are you going to do then?”

  The question hung in the air and Daniel understood his mistake. He was torn between feeling incredibly stupid, and yet unable to accept the fact that he couldn’t go after his daughter.

  “Can’t we bring these machines?” he asked.

  “No,” Lane said from behind him. “If you move them, they won’t work.”

  The Pope nodded. “There isn’t any other way, and I wish there was … truly. I understand how much you love your daughter, but if you want her back, you’ll have to stay here.”

  “Then who’s going?” Daniel asked.

  “I will,” the Pope said.

  “You? By yourself?”

  The Pope stopped, turned, and looked at Daniel. He was smirking. “You don’t think I’m capable of bringing her back?”

  “Frankly, no.”

  The Pope laughed softly. “You’re right. No, I won’t go alone. I’ll bring forces with me, Mr. Sesam, but I still need you here. Because you’re able to contact her, and that’s going to be important if we’re to get her out alive.”

  The Disciple stood a dozen feet from the woman.

  She stood, looking at him with her arms crossed over her stomach.

  The Disciple felt slight wonder at the sight of this weapon. He’d seen her power before, back at the motel room, though not as close as he had inside of the transport. She was the weapon, without doubt. Rhett Scoble may be trying to kill her, and there might have been another weapon in the world as well, but this woman carried the Black’s water … yet, something felt off about it. Rachel Veritros, that name of old, the Disciple didn’t think this woman resembled her at all. Standing before him now, she looked as if she had no idea of what was happening to her.

  Not about what happened in the motel room.

  Not about what happened in the transport.

  She looked scared and lost.

  “Who were you talking to?” he asked, unable to read any of her thoughts like he could Scoble’s. The connection between the Disciple and him was growing stronger as their nanotech spent more time around each other.

  The Disciple had no such luxury with this woman.

  “No one,” she said.

  “You don’t want to lie to me,” he answered.

  “I wasn’t talking to anyone. I was talking to myself.”

  The Disciple didn’t believe her, but challenging her here wasn’t within his purview. The High Priest had given him a directive, and right now, they were wasting time.

  “We’re continuing onward,” he said.

  He watched her eyes flash over his shoulder to the wrecked transport. “I can’t fly it. You might think I can, but I can’t.”

  Again, the Disciple thought she was lying, though her face was sincere. He sensed a fear inside her, and not just of him. He thought it might be of the transport … though that didn’t feel exactly right.

  She’s scared of what she did, he thought. She’s scared of the gray.

  “You don’t need to fly it. There’s another one coming, and we’re going to get in it.”

  The Disciple had let her walk out into the desert because he’d needed time to arrange for the new transport. He started communicating immediately with the True Faith once they had landed, processing his coordinates and relaying the information. There had been some good news—the True Faith was sending reinforcements, and they’d meet him just as he arrived at the One Path.

  The Disciple had also needed time to think about her, about this weapon.

  “You’re not to use the Black any longer,” he said. “Do you understand?”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, her cheeks sinking in some.

  “Do you understand?”

  She nodded, though slowly.

  He stared at her for a minute, neither of them speaking. She appeared shocked at his suggestion, and the Disciple didn’t understand why. Most likely, this was only a performance, meant to throw him off. Accomplishing this mission was perhaps the most critical thing the Disciple had ever attempted, and he knew that if she used the Black, he would have little chance. Physically, the Disciple could kill her easily, but the Black put all of that in question.

  When she’d been unconscious, he hadn’t needed to worry, but now that she was awake … It could be a problem.

  All of his thinking, yet he truly only had one option. He would keep going. All the way to the High Priest or until the Black killed him.

  “The transport will arrive in 12 hours. We’re to remain here until that happens. If you try to access the Black, I’ll kill you.”

  The girl didn’t nod. A ploy or not, her acting was superb. She didn’t appear to notice her skin burning from the sun’s rays, but simply stared forward with tears in her eyes.

  “Go back to the transport,” the Disciple said.

  Her eyes flashed over the Disciple’s shoulder. She said nothing, just stepped around him and did as he told her.

  The Disciple turned and watched her walk back to the ship.

  None of this made much sense to him. Two weapons, that’s what appeared to be happening in the world. The Disciple had received word of the True Faith’s attack, and that one of his brothers died in it. He didn’t understand the philosophy underlying why there had only been one weapon each time before, but he wouldn’t concern himself with such things right now.

  He knew he had one of those weapons under his watch, but yet she acted … Well, she acted as if she had no idea what she was. Like the world’s destruction wasn’t her destiny.

  And then this other man, Rhett Scoble. He served the weapon, but yet he was here to kill this one. Unless, somehow, he’d been able to deceive the Disciple.

  The Disciple hadn’t been trained for this. Deception and philosophy were the purview of Priests, not him. It wasn’t in his nature to contemplate, to strategize. It was in his nature to act.

  The weapon continued walking across the sand, her arms still wrapped around her stomach.

  The Disciple remembered his mission, forcing extraneous thoughts from his head.

  Deliver her to the High Priest.

  Nicki climbed into the transport, the Disciple’s words floating around in her head like ghosts. They carried complete terror … and a threat of eternal damnation.

  You’re not to use the Black again.

  How had she missed it? She’d sat out there in the sand for 10 minutes, maybe more, and hadn’t once thought about what any of it meant.

  The dark man, his eyes ablaze.

  The gray in the motel room.

  The gray in the transport.

  The movement across time and space, going to the dark man and him coming to her.

  You’re not to use the Black again, the man had said.

  Nicki sat down, practically collapsing into the transport’s chair. She stared forward, her eyes wide. Tears blurred her vision, though it didn’t matter because she didn’t care about seeing anything.

  The Black. The creature no one spoke about, not from the time you first learned of It, until you died decades later. The world kept silent about the Black, knowing It existed, but acting like It didn’t.

  The gray light. She’d known what it meant with the dark man, but then ignored the same thing when it came to her. Her whole life she’d been taught to ignore the past, and now that it had grown inside her, she refused to see it.

  And what about all that black space you sat in? What do you think that was, Nicki? You’re out here in this desert, stumbling around, seeing damned visions, and not connecting anything. The sight. The gray. The dark man. The black space you were so happy to inhabit for God knows how long.

  And now this strange man, the one who rese
mbles death, tells you what you should have seen all along?

  You’re the Black, girl. You’re the weapon you learned about all those years ago, yet were told never to speak of. It’s happening, right now, and to you.

  You’re the end of the world.

  Tears fell from Nicki’s eyes, she unable to hold them back anymore. A single thought rose in her mind, blocking out all else. It couldn’t be denied, not now that she saw the truth plainly.

  If Nicki was to bring about the end of the world—if she was the Black reborn—then only one option remained: suicide.

  Rhett watched the girl walk past him and into the transport. He knew the Disciple could see him, and if he made a single movement toward her, the Disciple would wrench away control of his body.

  Rhett couldn’t kill her here, so he only watched as she stepped inside. She paid him no attention; tears floated across her eyes like watery shields, ready to drown anyone that tried to look in at her soul.

  David was coming. Rhett knew that now. During the last few minutes, he had time to process some of what happened in the transport.

  He’d felt David, though he hadn’t known it at the time. There’d been too much turmoil, him yelling questions at the Disciple as the transport fell closer and closer to the ground. Looking back though, he realized what he’d missed: his blood had started itching, which meant David had been working—at the exact same time the transport was diving.

  David had been watching them; that’s what Rhett thought. Checking in on this girl. He was coming for her, and with only one thing on his mind: killing her.

  Rhett would still try if given the chance, saving David the trouble, but he felt comfortable—happy even—knowing that David was on the way. Those tears in her eyes, they showed the truth. She was weak, because whatever David was doing right now, he wasn’t crying. His path moved forward, bringing the Unformed with him, bringing death and its glorious gray light.

  Rhett had been turned into a bystander in this war, just at the moment it began. Yet, he felt okay with that because he would be able to watch David’s magnificence—the Unformed’s magnificence—as it brought down this imposter. Brought her low. Helped her understand that there was only one Prophet, and he served that which would never be denied.

  The time was nearly here, and Rhett felt it.

  He smiled as he watched this false Prophet step into the transport, knowing her death was near.

  Ten

  Raylyn knew the First Priest flew above her and Manor in his own transport. Most likely, there was a drone above that, too—still watching Raylyn. Still listening. The First Priest was 1,000 feet higher, though if she looked up she wouldn’t be able to see him. He flew above them all, the new armada soaring through the skies to battle someone who had killed indiscriminately last time they met.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said to Manor. “It was wrong to invite you.”

  Raylyn felt real guilt for bringing him along. There were safeguards in place to keep him from being harmed, but she knew she shouldn’t have even asked. The word selfish didn’t begin to describe such an action, and now she could do nothing but live with it.

  “We’ll be fine,” he said sitting next to her in their transport. “Corinth is with us. He’s not going to let ….” He looked over at her, an eyebrow raised, and a slight smirk on his face. “Am I allowed to say it now, ‘the Black’? Or am I going to be detained?”

  “Hush,” she said, trying not to smile. Terror rippled constantly just beneath Raylyn’s consciousness, ready to rush forward. She had seen Hollowborne up close, watched him kill without remorse. And she was going to him again—flying right toward him. She would take any respite from that horror, even a brief joke from Manor.

  “Corinth won’t let the weapon win,” he said. “We’ll be safe. Now, tell me, what is the plan once we get there?”

  Raylyn’s transport flew at the back of the armada, as did the First Priest’s. They had brought everything remaining within the True Faith: a thousand transports, and another 500 drones, which flew nearly at the edge of Earth’s atmosphere.

  Raylyn probably shouldn’t say anything to him, but at this point, what did it matter? “We’re going to follow the Disciple inside the One Path, and when Hollowborne attacks, we’ll ambush him.”

  “So, let’s say my faith is strong,” Manor said, “but let’s also say I’m a bit wary given what happened last time. Are we planning on doing the exact same thing? Simply showing up and trying to blast him out of the sky?”

  Raylyn shook her head as she stared out the window.

  “The transports we’ll use this time are different than the ones we used at the compound. We were trying to show strength before. This time we don’t want to show anything. Right now, right in front of you, are 1,000 transports. They’re reflecting the outside world. You can’t see them, and if anyone were to look up, they wouldn’t see us, but only the sky. It would take high powered telescopes with infrared capabilities to actually see us, and only then if they studied the sky for quite some time. The technology is practically undetectable.”

  Manor was staring out the window.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said, as if he’d forgotten his question completely. He wasn’t talking about future plans or transports. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Raylyn couldn’t blame him for changing the subject without warning. She found herself obsessed with the sky—even after being inside the transport for hours. She couldn’t get enough of it, or the water below. They’d flown west over the True Faith, and hit the ocean 30 minutes ago. Blue water covered everything beneath them, and the sky above was finally clearing from the deadly nuclear explosions, allowing Raylyn to see both.

  Raylyn could only nod at Manor’s comment. She couldn’t find anything to say. Not about the war, not about the weapon. She stared at the sky stolen from the True Faith all those years ago. A birthright for all humans, stripped from Corinth’s followers, while everyone else in the world took it for granted.

  “I can’t believe they robbed it from us,” she said.

  “From who?”

  She looked over at him. “From the True Faith? The rest of Earth can look up on any day and see this.”

  He nodded, not turning to her. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just so beautiful.”

  She looked at him for another second, then turned her eyes back to the sky. A few minutes passed in silence, and then she said, “I can think of something maybe more beautiful.”

  He did turn then, hearing her sultriness. “What’s that?”

  “Making love underneath it?”

  And so they did, with a thousand ships in front of them, they made love underneath the blue sky for the first time in their lives.

  Raylyn slept next to Manor, her chest slowly moving up and down, her mouth slightly open. He had stared at her for some time after making love, unable to pull his eyes away. Even with the sky above him—something that he hadn’t seen before and wasn’t guaranteed to see tomorrow—he kept looking at her.

  You’re falling, he thought.

  And then, Don’t be stupid. You’ve already fallen. You’re not making love under the clouds for the Prophet’s benefit.

  He rolled over on his back at that, breaking his view of her. He stared up into the sky, unable to see the ship above him, but knowing it was there.

  The First Priest’s.

  Manor thought it delicious that he’d fucked in such close proximity to the True Faith’s leader. A brief feeling of guilt lay on him at that, but he dismissed it quickly. He could both enjoy his time with Raylyn, and like spitting on the True Faith at the same time.

  This isn’t about her or the rest of them.

  He wished he could lay here with her forever, but knew he couldn’t. Nothing in this world was simple any longer, and loving Raylyn didn’t rid him of his duties. Loving her only added to the complexity. He came to her for one reason: to help further the Summoning. He might love her, b
ut his loyalty lay with the Unformed, and he wouldn’t forget it.

  But this ship? No one knew he was here. He hadn’t had time to pass the information back, especially not in Corinth’s Shrine. He was alone and without any true knowledge of what was to come. Only that he was among transports en route to kill the man he worshipped. Above all else, that couldn’t happen.

  Manor could have fallen asleep, but dreams waited for him that he didn’t want to see. It turned out, regardless the purity behind awful deeds, the mind didn’t simply shut them off. The dead didn’t die just because you killed them. They kept living, only now in your head. If he shut his eyes for too long, he’d see ragged body parts and decapitated heads. The heads would stare back at him, their eyes unblinking and their stares unfazed. He’d done it for the Prophet, and he would do it again and again if needed, but Manor understood you didn’t leave war behind. You brought it with you, wherever you went.

  So instead of sleeping, Manor considered his position.

  David had to survive; if he didn’t, then all of Manor’s actions were for naught. David’s survival ensured they died for a reason. The Union. The Unformed. The future, one which was real.

  Manor had to send a message, even if it meant he was caught. He might die doing it, but if he died serving the Prophet … what higher honor was there?

  He didn’t close his eyes to send the message, but looked over at Raylyn. He wasn’t admiring her beauty this time, but monitoring her. He wanted to see if she changed at all, whether naturally or from a message above—a drone monitoring him and catching his thoughts.

  She was at peace, so if anything was listening, it hadn’t alerted her yet.

  Is anyone there?

  He sent the message wide, hoping someone presiding over his home city would hear it. He hadn’t stretched his nanotech over such a wide distance before, although he knew it didn’t matter. Nanotechnology didn’t rely on proximity.

  Yes. It’s Kaymcin. This is Manor Reinhold?

  He knew the woman, though not well.

  Do not contact again. It’s too dangerous. I’m en route to engage the Prophet with a force of over 1,000 ships. He won’t see them coming; they’re camouflaged. We’re heading to the One Path.