Gods and The City

by Steve Statham

  But he thought he perceived something else—a faint whisper, the merest hint of a familiar voice.

  "Thank you...."

  16

  Demigod

  Entombed in her chamber deep underneath the surface, Talia fought back what felt like tears. In truth, she did not know if her eyes were still capable of such a response. Where her body ended and the machinery of godhood began was increasingly difficult to ascertain.

  Ignore it, ignore it, push aside the pain. You can grieve for Tower later.

  Tied into The City's sensor network, she had experienced the explosion of the god's final ship as clearly as if she had been watching a lightshow in one of the dome's amphitheatres. The emptiness where the god had once been was unmistakable, a void so real that it may as well have been a solid object.

  But the war continues.

  She left the awareness of her body behind as her mind rushed to view The City through her new creations.

  There was a moment of disorientation as her view shifted to the surface. A haze hung in the air from fires ignited and extinguished across The City. Strange reflections glittered on the glass surfaces of nearby structures. Dark shapes ran in random directions, with darker shapes chasing them.

  Focus.

  She brushed aside the macro view of The City and slipped into the specific vantage point she wanted. This shifting of perspectives was still an unfamiliar sensation, but one that she was adapting to quickly.

  She settled into a vantage point ten feet above the ground, through the "eyes" of her new Aspect. Talia looked down upon a small group of terrified people.

  They were clustered in an alley, their backs to her. The glow from the explosion of The 4,000 filtered down through the dome from the far reaches of CitySpace and gave the alley an unnatural sheen. The citizens backed toward Talia, clustered together in common fear.

  In front of them, one of the alien invaders advanced in a stumbling charge, its legs churning in a jittery frenzy.

  One young man stepped from the crowd and positioned himself between the approaching creature and the terrified crowd. His fists were balled, and he yelled a string of obscenities at the alien.

  Yes, that's the one.

  At that moment the people noticed the apparition that had appeared behind them. They stared in amazement at a vision they had never before seen.

  A vision of Talia the demigod.

  Talia knew there was no time to rationally explain to the panicking multitudes about the fall of Tower and her own elevation in his place. The people of The City needed to know at a glance that another god fought for them.

  And so she had hastily created an Aspect she could project throughout The City that would hopefully reassure them. Her image stood just over ten feet tall. She dressed it in recognizable acolyte's garb, but mixed with an armored corset. A floating escort of sinister-looking drones, also projections, hovered above her shoulders. Concealed within the Aspect was a real microdrone, through which she could see and hear the people from a street-level perspective.

  Her Aspect carried a sword—a sword!—a last minute impulse that she hoped would speak to some primal warrior instinct within the people. The giant vision glowed from within, as would a god, and Talia admitted to herself that she did, in fact, feel nearly godlike, viewing The City through multiple copies of this Aspect.

  She knew, of course, that these demigod Aspects were partly bluff, mere projections. No matter how realistic the image, she could not coalesce her warrior goddess image into a solid form, as could Tower. That was a power that had been passed by the Benefactors to the original seven gods alone.

  But she was capable of bending the control systems of The City to her will, systems that controlled nearly every aspect of life inside the dome. Systems that fed her constant information.

  Systems that tallied the dead and the dying.

  More than enough power to deal with the creature before her.

  Talia had quickly assembled a working summary that revealed the true nature of the aliens. Was it really so recently that she had fled in terror from these ungainly beings?

  She understood that behind the fearsome appearance the creatures were hobbled by the unfamiliar atmospheric pressure and gravity of The City. Tower's analysis of the invaders was included in his final burst of communication, including the original report about the creatures' home planet from the god Triton, filed before he went rogue.

  She was rapidly adding her own chapter to the profile of these aliens. Information flowed to her from multiple sources, a constant stream of images, sounds and observations from The City's network.

  From the records left by Triton, Talia knew that the methane-shrouded alien homeworld was a darker place than any human planet. She could see the complex eye coverings that were part of the aliens' protective harness. In them, she perceived a weakness.

  Talia reached into the utility systems that undergirded the streets and commanded the subsurface lighting to increase five-fold. The people stared in astonishment as her warrior goddess Aspect waved her sword in the air with dramatic flair, while Talia commanded an increase in the intensity of the rivers of light across the inner surface of the dome, and a shift in the spectrum. The people in the alley squinted at the sudden brightness.

  The creature seemed stunned at first. It tried to hide its head, but the light intruded from all directions. Its forelimbs flailed in front of its eyes, vainly attempting to hold back the light.

  Talia tapped into the control systems for the axis flyers that fluttered aimlessly above. With the death of Tower, the flyers were no longer being actively directed and had shifted to pre-programmed surveillance patterns. She exercised her new control over City functions to direct a swarm of the semi-organic constructs down upon the blinded form of the alien.

  The flyers that had so carefully carried her to safety under Tower's hand now dove with ruthless precision, pounding into the flesh of the alien invader. The flyers had never been built for this sort of task and she had to sacrifice hundreds of them to break the skin and harness of the creature. It moaned piteously as its legs broke. Dozens of Flyers, covered in gore from the assault, piled up in the alley.

  But Talia did not relent.

  The flyers tore into the alien, blunt weapons of desperation, until it shrieked one last time and collapsed.

  You will not touch my people.

  My people. She felt the full meaning of the words with a savage intensity. She had killed for them now. It was brutal and bloody, the type of thing she never witnessed during her sheltered years in the temples.

  She will do it again, she does not doubt.

  Talia directed her warrior Aspect to glide over to the young man who had stepped between the people and the alien. The others in the crowd backed away, but once again the man stood his ground.

  Yes, you are the one I'm looking for.

  "Nice trick, lady," he said. Talia could detect a faint tremor in his voice. "But I could have taken it down myself. Since that explosion out there, these things have been scuttling down into every hidey-hole they can find. Who are you?"

  "One who serves," Talia said, not yet ready to stop and explain everything.

  "You don't look like any god I learned about in the temples. You aren't Grey Wolf are you?"

  "No. But you are Vance of the Anderrs line."

  "Yes.... lady. How would you know?"

  How indeed, Talia asked herself. Even as she spoke with the young man her mind struggled to keep up with the nearly infinite memories, reports, and files at her disposal. Data from the blood riders of every citizen, crime and security surveillance summaries, schooling evaluations—all vied for her attention. The implications of having access to this endless web of stored information gnawed at her, an unwelcome ethical splinter.

  We'll have to revisit this level of information gathering, if we live to see the other side of this attack.

  But she needed warriors, and had studied enough history to know where they had histori
cally been found in most human societies. And Tower had been paying particular attention to this man.

  "I know all about you, Vance. You are restless. You lead a secret society through The City at night, organizing elaborate challenge games and races. You spend all your spare time exploring the UnderWorks, and spend your nights either in taverns or fathering children. Life under our regulated little dome doesn't suit you, does it?"

  Vance's features harden into a look of defiance. "What of it?"

  With some slight distaste, Talia activated the riders in Vance's blood, subtly altering his body chemistry. She needed him to feel resolute, determined and unafraid. As the riders responded to her commands she could detect the confidence growing within him. But she also had the feeling that the manipulation was probably unnecessary.

  "The City needs someone like you right now," she said.

  "For what?"

  "To teach the people to fight back. To push these monsters from our home. To carry some of the burden the gods have been carrying for all of us for too long."

  A predatory smile. "Yeah. I can do that. I've already been doing that."

  "Which is why I'm talking to you now. Come with me. I'll outfit you with some weapons that will make your job easier." She looked up at the rest of the small crowd, cowering against the wall. "All of you—follow us to safety."

  They silently fell in behind Talia's goddess Aspect. The imposing projection glided beside Vance as he jogged in the direction she indicated. She spoke with him as they ran, instructing him about what was to come. At the same time, her attention was distributed through other Aspects around The City, dealing with several similar situations, rounding up additional recruits. More than anything, her position as guardian required concentration on multiple tasks and forceful decision making.

  Tower, was it ever like this for you? Did you ever have to reject the teachings of your superiors?

  She hoped she someday had the luxury of time to examine some of the god's more detailed memories, to study the dilemmas and conflicts he faced. Because her first actions as demigod protector of The City would be to break from Tower's thousand-year-old policies and practices.

  If there was one thing Talia knew about The City, it was its history. It was her one true strength, an attribute that set her apart from the other citizens. And Talia knew that there had never been, in the long life of this outpost, anything like a standing army of human beings. Even the ships that protected CitySpace were unmanned and directed by sentient ship minds. There had never been a "captain of the guard," a position she was about to appoint to Vance. The gods had assumed all responsibility for protecting mankind.

  She knew the reasoning of the gods: what could a handful of men do against the larger terrors in the galaxy? The duty of men and women was to breed new generations of the human race, to build back up the numbers, not to get slaughtered in wars the gods could fight for us. The gods were created for that very purpose. That arrangement had worked to mankind's benefit for a thousand years.

  The lessons Talia took from history were different.

  She had studied far beyond the basic histories all citizens learn in school. She had delved deeper into the temple library than any acolyte. She had never been denied access to ancient data, and had often wondered why this was so, but never dared ask the elder acolytes or Tower himself, for fear this might be some oversight that would be swiftly corrected.

  And in looking at the great sweep of history, Talia had come to believe that if the people themselves were not invested in their own defense, they would find themselves helpless at some key juncture, some day of catastrophe when the gods failed them.

  A day like today.

  Vance peppered her with questions as they ran.

  "Lady, what are these long-legged things? Where do they come from?"

  "Don't fear them. They are conscripted soldiers serving another master. They come from a fog-shrouded world where they are the dominant life forms. From an intelligence standpoint, they fall somewhere between dogs and humans."

  "If they aren't so smart, how come they group together to chase us? It looks pretty well-coordinated to me."

  Talia raced through the packet of information from Triton's initial field analysis, the last report of a traitor, as she spoke. "We look like larger versions of one of their native food sources."

  "They eat people on their world?"

  "No, there are small creatures that swim in their methane lakes, creatures that have four paddle-like limbs. They have vaguely human proportions. Hunting them seems to be a ritualized, pack-centered activity."

  "These spider-things chase us because they think we're good to eat?"

  "Yes."

  Vance jogged beside her in grim silence for several paces. "And we haven't exactly been fighting back, have we?"

  "Very good, Vance. We run, they chase. They understand that much. But we're about to raise the price of harvesting humans."

  They stopped at a squat building, one of a series that surrounded Tower's primary temple. Servitor robots were stationed in a semi-circle around one side where Talia had commanded them to stand guard.

  Her Aspect waved and a passageway opened into the building. The action was not necessary; she was controlling all automated City function from her underground chamber, but these affectations of godhood helped sustain the illusion that her Aspect was "real."

  The people hurried to follow her inside. When the last had entered, the outer door slid shut with a hiss.

  After the brightness of the streets, the people squinted to see in the dim light of the chamber. Talia increased the lighting in a stairwell leading down. The noises of machinery churned from deep within The City.

  She led them toward the light. "This way," she said. Her Aspect glided down the stairs.

  They followed silently until a larger room opened before them. The noises of industry were louder here. Servitor robots scurried in and out of this area, carrying bundles of cargo which they placed on racks lined up in rows.

  Surrounding them, gleaming in the light, were newly-made implements of war.

  Vance stepped forward, reaching to the weapons, but then pulling back.

  "What is all this, Lady?"

  She surveyed the implements of death, weighing her words.

  "I have commanded this automated machine shop to begin production of small arms. These are the first of that order. It has largely been forgotten, but the human race has a rich history of weapons development." She wondered if the people around her could pick out the tone of sadness in her voice. She hurried on. "Vance, you are to be a captain, a leader of fighters."

  Vance picked up one of the hand-held projectile weapons, examining it with caution. He thumbed the power switch to life and watched as the power readout swung to full charge.

  He lifted a suit of battle armor and a helmet off a nearby rack, feeling the weight of the things.

  He grinned. "Let's not waste any more time than necessary down here," he said, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "The spider-things are all up there."

  Talia activated the power cells in the armor he was holding. "The helmet has built-in displays that will show you concentrations of the aliens, as well as allowing access to The City's communications net." She moved in closer to Vance, bending down and speaking softly. "Use those skills you developed in your nightly forays through The City, Vance. I will be with you, feeding you information and tactics."

  He nodded. "I have friends I can call who would be good at this. We wouldn't have to start from zero."

  "I thought you might. That would be extremely helpful."

  Vance moved off to the side and Talia could detect him shadowcasting a group message.

  An elderly woman stepped from the small group. "Be honest now, Lady. Who are you, really? Where is Tower? I don't think he would allow... this," she said, sweeping her arm to indicate the racks of weapons.

  "My name was Talia," she said. "And I served the god in his temple to the best of m
y ability. But Tower is dead," she revealed. Talia heard the intake of breath from several people, and a couple moans of fear. She let the news settle in, observing the gamut of emotions that raced across their faces—terror, sadness, disbelief. "Our enemies have the ability to kill a god, although great damage has been inflicted on them as well. Contact with the other gods has been blocked. We are on our own. Do you understand our position? For the first time in a thousand years, there is no god to protect us."

  Through her distant connection with the blood riders, Talia could sense the fluctuating emotions in the room. Even Vance was silent at this, his bravado temporarily forgotten.

  "Before Tower expired, he passed on to me some of his powers so that I could continue to defend our people."

  The elderly woman wrapped her arms around herself, as if warding off a chill. "But, what are you? Are you a god, too?"

  "No," Talia said. "Not in the way of the others. I am something else, something created in desperation. I have some of the gifts of the gods, but not all their powers." She moved her warrior goddess Aspect closer to them and dropped to one knee, the better to appeal to them at eye level. "That's why we'll all need to fight together if we're going to survive."

  17

  Divine Space

  The universe continued to open before Mik like an endlessly unfolding river with an infinite number of tributaries. The ship's systems bombarded him with information, only a fraction of which he could process.

  But he understood one thing with certainty. What he was experiencing was not speed. His rate of travel was impossible within the constraints of the known universe.

  He wasn't soaring through the vacuum of common space. He was in Divine Space, that area of existence that lay outside the physical boundaries of everyday life. He still could not grasp its true nature. Was Divine Space some sort of underlying fabric of his universe, or was it actually another universe itself, passage through which resulted in a sort of shortcut across space-time? Or was it a creation of the gods, or perhaps of the Benefactors?