by Brett Bam
A chorus of elation echoed after his statements, as if his very voice brought pleasure and agreement. The daughter knelt before him and he placed his hand on her head to bless her.
“Our belief, our sacrifice and our service come with a reward. An endless life after death in a heaven so marvellous that we can never conceive of it. However, in order to enter heaven, we must be free of sin. God cannot allow sin to enter his perfect presence. There will be no more snake in the grass in the next life. We all know that God has already bathed the Earth in fire and destruction. It is a living hell, never more so than right now. The devil calls it home. We are cast from Eden into the wilderness and God has turned his face from us.”
There was another murmur, a deep sonorous grunt that sounded across the crowds in waves.
“He will not absolve you of your sin anymore. That burden is not His to bear. So, if we want to be free of sin and enter into the kingdom of heaven, we have to believe that there is a way to purify the sullied soul. The idea that there is a way to right the wrongs in this short life is attractive. Our religion is a way for a flawed person to become pure again, a way for a daughter to atone for the sin of a mother. Through the ceremony of the consumption we absolve each other of sin.” The woman under his hand broke down and sobbed openly. He lifted her chin and smiled at her. “This is the pathway we have cut for ourselves.”
The congregation murmured and stirred, excitement mounting. Comfort held up his hands and they quieted.
“We must remember what we have lost!” He almost shouted it. “This is a holy sacrament! By sharing the body and the blood of the departed they become present amongst us. In this moment of consumption, the departed are perfect and pure, whole and unsullied. That person is taken into us and lives on through us as a part of us. Their sin becomes our sin and we claim the burden willingly. We, the living, carry the sins of the dead so that they may have the life everlasting. It is the only way to the Father. The pathway to eternal life is in the remembrance of those who loved us. This is a holy sacrament and it is the redemption and the salvation of the departed!”
The religious ecstasy reached a crescendo. People were dropping to their knees with their hands clasped to their bosoms. One woman stood with her hands on her face, and her face tilted upwards, wailing. Some people were slightly less effusive in their outburst of emotion, but Dalys and her crew were the only people sitting still and calm.
“Before the moment of consecration… Before the moment of consecration…” Comfort had to raise his voice to be heard through the tumult. “Before the moment of consecration, we will join together in prayer to the departed and praise them for the life they lived, welcoming them into our midst. Together we proclaim our common faith in the real presence of the departed here amongst us.”
As he finished the last sentence he turned and swept aside a cloth on the altar to reveal a mound of small square white packages on an ornamental golden tray.
“We will remember her, and hold that memory deep within our souls and tonight we make that memory a covenant that will burn within us forever. You will, through this consumption, truly have her death mark you as significantly as her life. This act is one of extreme commitment and love. Her afterlife will be in you as yours will be in your children, when you one day join the departed.” He placed a hand gently on the young woman’s shoulder and looked at her kindly.
“Come daughter, be the first.”
The young woman stood shaking and approached the Altar. She lifted one of the packages and placed it in her mouth.
“I ask you to accept and bless this offering and through your sacrifice and your love cleanse this departed soul.” intoned Comfort.
Oscar leaned over to Dalys and said, “Sorry Skipper but I don’t understand what’s going on.”
The pews all dropped slowly to ground level and the congregation began to move to the front of the church while Comfort said the prayer blessing them all and began to offer the sacrifice.
“That’s her family, and they’re saying goodbye to their mother,” explained Dalys.
“Yes, but what are they eating?” Dalys turned back to look at the altar and seemed at a loss for words. Moabi saved her, he leaned forward and said, “Little Martian, they are eating the mortal remains of the dead woman.”
Oscar blinked. “What?”
“Bless and approve our offering; make it acceptable to you, it is an offering in spirit which brings out the truth in all of us,” intoned Comfort behind the altar.
“They cut up the corpse,” Moabi continued, “into little slivers and wrap them in a special paper which dissolves in the mouth. The family comes forward and eats a piece, so does the rest of the congregation.”
Oscar looked flabbergasted.
“I offer to you this holy and living sacrifice that we who are nourished by this body and this blood may become one with the departed and be filled and united in the spirit of our love.”
Comfort was handing the small packages to people who could not reach.
“The more people come to your funeral, the less everybody has to eat. It’s considered very bad luck if there’s anything left over.” Oscar laughed out loud in shocked response and Dalys elbowed him sharply in the ribs. The outburst drew strict looks from the nearby congregation, and to Dalys’ horror Jeremiah Comfort looked for the disturbance, and then straight at her. A thrill of expectant fear passed through her as their eyes met. Comfort smiled slowly and looked away. There was nothing friendly in the smile; rather he looked like a predator who had just sighted prey. Still, he never missed a beat in service of the ceremony.
“In fulfillment of your will she gave herself up to death, but by this sacrament she will rise from the dead and be amongst us again. She shall destroy death and restore life, because we live no longer for ourselves, but for her. May our faith and love sanctify these offerings. Let them become the body and the blood of our departed friend that we might celebrate this everlasting covenant.”
There was a thick crowd at the altar now, and Comfort was walking among them with the golden plate.
“Take this, all of you, and eat it, this is her body which has been given up for you. Take this, all of you, and drink from it. This is the cup of her blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed upon you so that all my sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of the departed one.”
He took a piece for himself and stood proud at the altar again. He held up the small pile of offering for all to see.
“In this way, we celebrate the memory of our friend, the departed. We, the people, recall her passion, her resurrection from death, and her ascension into glory. In memory of her death and resurrection, she offers us this life-giving meat, this saving blood. We thank the departed for counting us worthy to stand in her presence and serve her. May all of us who share in the body and blood of the departed be brought together in unity by our love, and by our faith.”
So saying he held his head back and placed a piece of the mother named Rene into his mouth. Dalys leaned over and whispered to Oscar. “This is the largest Church of the Consumption ever built. Jeremiah Comfort is the head of this movement. What you have just seen, my young friend, is a stellar performance by the most successful cannibal in human history.”
“You can’t be serious!” said Oscar, “They don’t actually eat their mother.”
“Why is that such an outrageous idea?”
“Well it’s cannibalism, it’s against the law.”
Dalys smiled at him. “Only on planets. Here it’s perfectly legal, and people actually name the consumers at their funeral in their last will and testament. It’s a sacred ritual which eases the souls of those left behind. They believe that they earn their mother’s right to enter paradise by taking the burden of her sins upon themselves.”
“This is insane, cannibalism in a church?”
“It’s not unheard of kid. As a matter of fact, it's quite common out here. People become awfully pragmatic about surv
ival when the dark outside comes knocking. The asteroid belt is mostly small places very far away from each other. When something went wrong people got hungry. It happened spontaneously all over the belt federation. These people understood. The dead saved the living. It became a truly noble thing to sacrifice your life for others to live. Saints were created, fathers who gave themselves so the wife could breastfeed the baby. Communities who each sacrificed an arm so their neighbour could live. Cannibalism for survival was a major theme of the early expansion. It's no wonder it blossomed into this. In the old world, the faithful used to partake in a ritual where they ate the body of their god and drank his blood. They called it Holy Communion then, and they believed it was the only way for them to be washed clean of their sins so they could enter heaven.” Dalys looked at the altar and the throng there. “Not much has changed really.”
“I still can’t believe what I’m seeing!” Oscar’s indignation was spilling from him a little loudly. Jack Mac leaned toward him and grabbed his arm painfully.
“Have some respect you little shit.” His voice was soft but the menace in it was not. “This is what Berea believed. If we still had her body I would eat it as a sign of respect for her. Now shut up and let us grieve.”
Dalys put her hand on her friend’s arm and felt the rigid muscles beneath convulse at the unexpected contact.
“Jack? Are you ok?”
“I think I’ll head back to the ship if you don’t object, Captain.”
Without waiting for an answer Jack Mac keyed the pew to negative buoyancy and it settled to the ground. He stood and walked from the church, ignoring the sullen glances cast his way by the disturbed mourners.
“Skipper, I’m sorry if I offended him, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay lad. Don’t worry about it. He just needs time alone; this has hit him harder than any of us. Why don’t you head back to the ship and relieve Curtis of her watch. Moabi and I are going to stay and pray.”
Oscar looked surprised and Dalys grinned at him. “Silly little Martian, you don’t think Berea was the only religious person in this crew, did you?”
The pile of packages on the platter was getting smaller minute by minute and the crowd to the front was getting thinner and thinner. Finally, when the last mourner stepped up to his piece, there was still a small remainder on the altar. A hopeless little pile of square white packages. This was tremendous bad luck. There could be nothing left or the woman was cursed to carry her own sin after all. Her family approached the altar and took a second piece each, and at last there were three pieces remaining. Eyes began to turn toward Dalys and her crew, Oscar blushed bright red as he realised what the attention foreboded. Dalys and Moabi stepped from the pew as it sank to the ground and walked forward. Moabi walked first, taking point, protective as always. He stepped up to the altar and took one of the three pieces. He knelt for a blessing by the priest and bent his head as he placed it in his mouth. He was a vast dark figure of humble dignity. Dalys took the second to last piece and knelt to be blessed. She didn't look at the priest as she placed the flesh in her mouth, his look of eagerness was vulgar. His hand trembled as it touched her head and his voice wavered through the benediction.
Dalys swallowed.
Chapter 18
Kulen De Sol
Something is tickling at my mind, like a ray of sunlight on a closed eye, slowly and gently waking me from sleep. Something has changed. Something that was here before is gone now. The movement, the thrust through space has stopped. There is weight and mass, which is different than before. We have stopped our flight through the nothing. We are stopped, no, docked, in the centre of a nexus of activity, a tight ball of congealed and shifting light spinning slowly through space. In the sparkling awareness of the otherplace, in the stark vision of the real, I see where we are. This is a biosphere sustaining free humans and it hangs in the vacuum, far from anything else. Such a small place, but filled with life. My curiosity is aroused. In spite of its simplicity, there are wonders to be found. I am dislocated from my physical form but not completely. I hover near to it, half immersed in the sensations it provides. If I slip deeper into the physical I will feel the pain of my nearly healed form. It is almost whole again, but not quite. Nevertheless, I wish to walk amongst the physical for a short time. I slip forward and slide back into my body and…
The first sensation is one of weight and restriction, an uncomfortable moment that passes quickly. I open my eyes.
Curtis was sipping hot coffee in the galley, enjoying the quiet moment after the last few stress-filled days. She had just showered and her long blonde hair was still wet. It was late and she was tired. She slipped on a pair of data glasses and started to scan some of her favourite entertainment, a quick show before bed.
Curtis had her own cabin. To begin with she had shared with Berea, but in short order Berea spent all her nights with Jack Mac, so she had the cabin to herself. The Ribbontail had four large berths. Dalys had the one closest to the RHS, Jack Mac and Berea used to share the next, Curtis had this one and next to her was Moabi. For a short time, Oscar had been bunked with Moabi, but it was obvious to all this was not a long-term arrangement. Oscar had sorted the problem out by finding a niche in the corridor. He repacked some storage containers and removed a few panels. The result was a small space with four hammocks, one above the other, which could be sealed and locked. He used the top three hammocks for storage and slept in the fourth. It was sturdy enough to get him through high g manoeuvres for short periods although he mostly spent his time in the RHS, strapped into the machine. The modules hung from the central spine of the ship and were covered in what looked like a cluster of large silver grapes. They were frictionless, magnetic bearings, capable of spinning an encapsulated module in any direction. During stays like this when they were under gravity the modules were stationary and Curtis’ lounge suite was oriented to the floor. She stood after watching a short sitcom and, with a gesture, deflated the lounge. The thick upholstery was folded and vacuumed flat, and Curtis stood in the centre of the room as the table folded away. Panels slid over everything and the room started to rotate, Curtis walked with it as it turned. The magnetic bearings spun and flipped the small cube gently over until the bedroom was oriented down. She inflated the bedroom. A large inflatable mattress grew from the floor and the wall became a projected media screen. The bed was covered with a thick thermally insulated blanket which stretched to the floor on either side. Inside, between the blanket and the mattress was a pocket of silky fur. There was a large folded slit in the top of the blanket which Curtis spread open as she climbed in. She could fold the blanket over her head and shut herself in warm, furry darkness, on a temperature controlled mattress. Bliss and ignorance settled on her gently. Slowly, in stages, she drifted to sleep.
There was a loud tear and a clatter, then another tear and a thump. Curtis felt her blood freeze. She had thought she was alone on the ship but that was the sound of movement down the corridor.
Curtis was up and out of the bed with speed. She was wearing a comfortable pair of cotton pants and a white vest, no shoes. The gravity was light and she was able to move quickly. She stopped at the dilated portal to the ship, there was nothing in the corridor. Another clang echoed, it was from the med bay. Kulen! Curtis was in the passage and in three long leaps she was at the portal, tapping at the panel. It twisted open.
Kulen De Sol was already up and out of the nutrient bath. His medical nodules had been stripped and lay on the floor, the glutinous bulbs filled with iridescent aquamarine gel were torn and leaking onto the deck. The boy was standing in the middle of the room, covered in blue gel from head to toe. He was noticeably taller than when he had gone into the nutrient bath.
“Kulen! What are you doing? Are you alright? You must be in pain, how did you…”
The boy was no longer a boy. He was taller and stronger. His naked body was well muscled and lean, his dark hair noticeably longer than it had been mere days ago. He stood tall and e
rect on limbs hat should have been broken and fragile. And he was out of the bath.
“How did you get out of the bath? You were sealed in.”
Kulen cocked his head and frowned quizzically, then turned to look at the bath.
“Life, Luck and Fate! Look what you did to my nutrient bath!” Curtis rushed forward. The bath was cracked and split, the polymer sheathing had been split and torn and the nutrient solution was oozing out of the chamber. It looked as if Kulen had simply broken his way through two layers of, supposedly unbreakable, plastic polymers, and climbed from the tank. Curtis remembered how hard the fabrics used in the construction were to trim; they were so elastic she’d ended up using a laser. How had this boy done this? She turned and looked at Kulen reproachfully.
“Did you do this?”
Kulen tried a shrug. “Yes?”
“You’re very strong.” Her fear fluttered in her. Too strong. “Which means you have to be careful. You’ve just ruined a very precious machine, that I can’t replace. If you are not careful you’ll break something else even more important or, worse yet, hurt one of us, or yourself. Do you understand?”
“Where are we?”
“We are on Gamaridia Asteroid, the capitol of the Gamaridian Group. A safe place where we can find the help we need.”
Kulen looked at her intensely, and then his eyes softened and Curtis watched as they flashed from green to blue as he turned his head.