Infinite Testament

by Greg Ness

  Moros was taken aback. “Why?”

  Raphael extended his hand to Elpis, who was still sitting on the same rock beside the stream. She obliged and pulled herself off, flopping her feet into the water. She walked to Moros and gave him a comforting kiss on the cheek. Moros looked at her smiling face and couldn’t help but feel relaxed.

  She asserted, “It’s okay, Moros.”

  Elpis walked down the stream with Raphael, leaving Moros to himself.

  Raphael said, “There’s something I need to address with you. The light inside of you is bright. Brighter than any of us. When you are on Earth, you may discover you have more abilities than what we discussed.”

  Elpis was intrigued, albeit worried. “Like what?”

  “There’s one in particular you need to be careful with. When you kiss someone, as you have just kissed Moros, you open a door inside of him.”

  Elpis looked down at the water she walked on, confused by Raphael’s statement.

  “A kiss will allow someone to interact with the dead, for as long as the dead’s light stays on Earth. Further, if the one you kiss touches another person, that ability will temporarily be transferred. And that person will be able to see the dead for a short time.”

  Elpis stopped in her tracks. “So Moros will be able to talk to the dead now?”

  “No.” Raphael reassured, “This is something that only affects the people on Earth.”

  Elpis looked straight ahead, overwhelmed by the abundance of information bestowed up on her. “How do you know this about me?”

  Raphael calmly said, “A lot of what we know comes from our last attempt. It was long ago. Before you were alive. After we failed, the committee decided to start over and settled on Earth. I don’t believe Earth will need to suffer the same fate. The people have the potential. But they are easily swayed into darkness.”

  Elpis asked, “Is that what makes them dangerous?”

  Raphael pointed at her. “Exactly. You have to remember, they haven’t been around anywhere near as long as we have. Sometimes, you might get frustrated with them. But never, ever, ever hurt them. You can help them, heal them, but if you ever hurt them… well, just don’t do that.”

  Moros wore blue jeans and a t-shirt. He fit right in.

  The rain blasted down from the sky. Moros lifted his eyes upwards, allowing the rain to soak his face. He rather enjoyed the rain. The abundance of water on Earth was something that had always impressed Elpis.

  People scurried around him, panicking at the onslaught of water that was continually unleashed. A pink blur caught the corner of his eye. As he affixed on the sight, he saw someone with a large pink dog over his shoulder running in the opposite direction. Moros smiled, amused by the scene.

  But he still hadn’t found who he was looking for. Moros scanned the faces of people running by. Through the carousels, swings, and Tilt-A-Whirl, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  Then, Moros spotted him. He was running across his field of vision: Matt, the star quarterback of Michigan State. Moros lifted his hand and pointed three fingers at Matt’s knees. After Moros would blow them out, Matt’s grand ideas of playing professional football would be over. He would be devastated; a man with nothing left. And that’s what Moros needed from him.

  Moros squinted his eyes at his target, but unexpectedly, someone running by knocked his arm at the exact second of release. His fingers were redirected toward a big bulky African man who fell unconscious to the ground, evidently impaled by his errant shot. A young boy stood over his father and screamed, perplexed by what had happened.

  Moros was stunned at his accidental infliction. But he had to get Matt. Luckily, Matt stopped to investigate the source of the screaming. Surprisingly, he came running to the man’s aid.

  Heroic.

  As he approached the injured man, who was now profusely bleeding, the target became bigger. And easier to hit.

  Moros stuck out three fingers again.

  And demolished Matt’s kneecap. Matt fell to the ground, screaming in agonizing pain. Surely his knee hurt, but the man Moros accidentally shot would be in much greater pain. Wherever he had been hit, his internal organs were no doubt destroyed beyond recognition.

  The young boy, Mikey, screamed and begged for someone to help his ailing father. Matt joined in the chorus of screaming.

  Stephen knelt on one knee, facing the love of his life, waiting for her answer.

  Lisa smiled and opened her mouth to affirm his offer.

  But before she could say anything, petrified screams rang out in the distance.

  Stephen and Lisa simultaneously looked in the direction of the shouting. Whatever had happened, it was serious. “Help!!” they heard by a faded voice. Stephen leapt to his feet and gripped eyes with Lisa. The rain poured down her drenched hair. A sense of urgency overcame both of them. They knew what had to be done.

  Mikey, the black toddler standing over his father was overcome. He leaned forward and tearfully embraced his father. There was nothing he could do. The life was slipping away from him.

  A group of curious people had formed around Matt and Mikey’s father. Stephen rushed to the aid of Mikey and his father. He knelt down, turned the man onto his back, and promptly ripped his shirt open. “What happened?”

  “A man shot him,” Mikey responded.

  “You saw it?”

  Mikey nodded. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Stephen didn’t answer. He didn’t know. The man was bleeding uncontrollably. Stephen tore off a portion of his own shirt, wound it into a ball, and applied it to the wound to help control the bleeding. He grew soaked with blood and water. Stephen looked at the bystanders, who uselessly stood in the rain like idiots. “Will someone call 911!? Do something!”

  Lisa stood over Matt, who, through his agony, smiled at her. The rain pelted his face as he looked up. Despite the fact that she had abruptly dumped him for Stephen, Matt still harbored strong feelings for her.

  He cracked, “It’s nice to see you again, Lisa.”

  Lisa forced a smile and knelt down to him. An emotional war was waged inside of her. She remembered the words Sara Ixley uttered in the bathroom after her boyfriend asked her to marry her: ‘What if this is a sign?’ It seemed ridiculous at the time, but Lisa couldn’t help but wonder the same thing at this exact moment, as she looked into the eyes of her ex-boyfriend who impossibly reappeared seconds after Stephen asked her to marry him. What were the odds of that? The insecurities she had spent months shedding herself of came roaring back. What if Stephen, a man she unquestionably loved, wasn’t the one she was supposed to be with? The reality of the commitment that came with being married dawned on her. A heavy rock formed in her stomach. Doubts grew in her mind and amidst the chaos, Lisa grew scared.

  Lisa stood up and glanced at Stephen, who was busy trying to comfort Mikey. With the rain pouring down, no one could see the tears crawling out of her eyes.

  “Stephen,” she called. He turned his head, still applying the shirt to the man. Lisa struggled as she uttered the most painstaking words she would ever speak, “I… I don’t know if I can do this.” As the words left her mouth, she inherently forgot what Stephen meant to her. “I need some time to think about things. I’m sorry.” With that, she ran off.

  Stephen promised to never give up on her. But he couldn’t chase after her, not with a man dying in his hands. All he could do was watch as she disappeared into the distance.

  Lisa would leave for Los Angeles. She would write him a letter. And she would never talk to him again.

  Stephen stared in the distance as the impact of what just happened started the never-ending process of sinking in. He would never get over losing her. A terrible feeling grew in his gut. The light inside of him went completely out. Lisa was gone.

  Gone.

  What would he do? He’d have to wait for the ambulance to arrive. Then what? He needed to talk to someone. Anyone. Vince and Natalie were probably in church. That’s where he would go.
<
br />   Mikey looked at his ailing father.

  He would never forget the face of the man who killed his father.

  37

  Stephen, Vince, and Moros sat at a long table in a plain-looking conference room at the University of Michigan. They had just returned from the jungle after making their preliminary findings to the ILD.

  Stephen tapped his fingers on the table. Vince stared at the clock hanging above the door. The second hand methodically ticked around. Moros watched them. Ever since the display of the bonobo reset itself and showed the beginning of its life, they had struggled mightily with trying to piece it together. They just couldn’t figure it out.

  Stephen said, “My best explanation is that when something dies, its brain just starts to relay images from earlier in life.”

  Vince posed, “But why is it always the birth?”

  Stephen bit his lip. He didn’t know. Even more so, why did it happen to some animals and not others?

  Moros interrupted, “What if all the births that we see right after death are actually… the future?”

  Stephen and Vince simultaneously inquired to a confident Moros. He knew the answers. Now it was time to give them.

  “What are we to think of the Universe when it ends? Is it all over? Or…

  “…does it start again?”

  Stephen and Vince looked at each other, equally perplexed.

  “Elpis?”

  Moros walked through the colored fields, looking for the girl he loved. His blue backpack rested comfortably on his shoulders. “Elpis!” He searched the blue grass, where he had so often found her before. But she wasn’t there. She was supposed to have met him in the fields. She was probably hiding, like she used to when they were little.

  Moros heard a faint ruffling. It was slow-moving and sounded like someone walking through the field. Moros followed his ears and ran. He found Elpis in the red grass and smiled widely. But his joy vanished. There was blood on her hands. She was hobbling.

  Elpis was injured.

  Moros grew anxious. “What happened?”

  Elpis rolled back her eyes. “You can not blame them.”

  “The people of Earth did this?” Moros restlessly looked around. “Where’s the Pythor you used?”

  Elpis interjected, “No, Moros. Do not seek revenge. They don’t know what they’re doing. Forgive them.”

  He wouldn’t. They were dangerous and unpredictable. And something had to be done. Elpis gazed into Moros’s eyes, pleading with him. He lowered his head and conceded, asking, “Have you healed yourself?”

  Elpis nodded. “I’ve begun. I’ll be fine.”

  “What did they do to you?”

  “Moros. Forget it.”

  Moros took a deep breath. Enormously frustrated, he asked, “Do they deserve our efforts? Are they even capable of love?”

  Elpis held her hands on her side, actively healing her wound. “Yes. Of course. They are capable of great love. Love like yours and mine. Much of the pain they feel is because of love… There is much love on Earth.”

  Moros doubted it. But Elpis had been spending a lot of time on Earth. If anyone knew, it was her.

  Moros paused. He shouldn’t ask, but he badly wanted to know. “How is he?”

  “Good.”

  “That’s it?”

  Elpis responded, “He is doing what he is supposed to.”

  Moros bowed his head in disappointment. “You act like the committee.”

  Empathy overcame Elpis. “I’m sorry, Moros.” Still holding her side, she snugged herself close to Moros. As she tilted back her neck, her eyes neared his. Moros leaned forward, gently caressed her cheeks, and kissed her. Elpis closed her eyes as their lips locked. Moros pulled back, still holding her cheeks. As she opened her eyes, Moros forced a smile.

  Elpis could see the sorrow in his blue eyes. There was only one thing that could reprieve him of his sadness.

  Elpis whispered, “I will go against the committee. I’ll take you to him.”

  Stephen declared, “Even if what you’re saying is true, that everything repeats itself, it still doesn’t explain how the birth instantly appears on our video feed. The chip wouldn’t exist when the animal was re-born.”

  Moros nodded, faking a level of concern. “I think we are failing to consider that perhaps the part of the brain we are attaching the microchip to, is, in fact… part of the soul.”

  Stephen burst into laughter. Vince, conversely, did not. Stephen lifted his hands in bewilderment. “You’re serious?” He gawked at Moros and then Vince, who seemed to consider the idea entirely possible. “Natalie has gotten to you,” Stephen conceded with surprise.

  Moros smirked. Stephen was reluctant. That was expected. Because of the constant deterioration of his closest relationships, Stephen had lost every thread of faith he might have once possessed. Thus was the attitude of one who had been ‘abandoned’.

  Vince uttered, “It’s something we should consider, Stephen.”

  Stephen shook his head in disgust. “This isn’t science. This is New Age, self-important, hippie bullshit. I’m here to be a scientist. I signed up to study the behavioral patterns of bonobos, not to waste time discussing philosophical nonsense.” Stephen stood up from his chair. “If you two and Natalie want to study for souls and the Universe re-running like Groundhog Day, be my guest. But count me out.”

  Having heard enough, Stephen walked toward the door. Moros blurted out, “Are you giving up? Walking away?”

  Stephen froze in his tracks and shut his eyes. A vision of Lisa resonated in his mind. A smile glowed across her face. He could see her, clear as day, sitting on the ledge of a grand fountain, at the zoo, eating ice cream. Stephen could almost feel the drops of water graze his skin.

  Don’t give up on me. Don’t walk away.” Lisa was nearly pleading. “Sometimes I get scared. But don’t give up on me.”

  Stephen reassured her with a simple gaze into her eyes. He would never give up on her. She knew it. But she had to be sure.

  “I promise,” Stephen said, gracing her with a comforting smile.

  She leaned forward and gently placed her hand on his.

  Lisa whispered, “I love you.”

  Stephen’s heart warmed. “I love you too.”

  There was a look of desire nestled in her eyes. A look of happiness. A look of belonging. He noticed a brightness that seemed to radiate within. A light. A bright, powerful light that appeared brighter as she stared into his eyes.

  “I’ll never give up,” he whispered softly. “I’ll never walk away.”

  Stephen opened his eyes. The dull fluorescent lights illuminated the dreary surroundings. The door stood in front of him, begging him to walk through. It was his way out. Instead, he turned to face Vince and Moros. “You want to do research? You want to use the scientific method? Then I’ll help. And if what we find is that the Universe repeats, then so be it. But it’s going to take a lot to get me to buy the idea of souls.”

  Vince and Moros quietly looked at Stephen. Vince pleaded, “Let’s figure it out.”

  Stephen calmed down. Perhaps it was worth a try. They could be on the verge of something big. Unconvinced, Stephen nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it. But this is going to take some time. And a lot of research.”

  Moros nodded at Stephen. The truth was that there were two distinct parts of the soul: one connected to the body and, the more important part, an independent entity of light that survived beyond death. If Stephen wanted to abandon the idea of souls, Moros could find a way to make everything make sense to him. The truth was something Stephen would never understand or accept anyway. In fact, pretending there was nothing for the soul besides physical life on Earth was just plain easier.

  And Stephen’s willingness to go along with it meant Moros could keep Lisa out of it…

  38

  Moros walked through the desert. The sun roasted his skin and his thin tunic allowed a reprieve of air from the wind. Wavy heat emanated off the surface of the sand, whi
ch spread out like a desert ocean. In the distance, he could see the outline of a man. It was him.

  Moros’s sandals traipsed through the rough sand and brought him nearer. The man instinctually turned and saw Moros walking toward him.

  Moros, although too far to see the man’s eyes, could already see the light inside of him. It was brighter than any he had seen. Ever. The brightest he had seen before this was Elpis’s, and hers was dim compared to this man’s. As he walked closer to him, his physical characteristics became clearer. He was tall. In great shape, better than most people of the day. His straight brown hair was abundant and flowed to his shoulders. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard sprouted from his face. Moros looked into his eyes. They were an entrancing, dazzling blue.

  Of course they were. He was one of them, after all.

  Moros stood face to face with the man. They silently stared at each other. It wasn’t an uncomfortable stare; the two men were simply basking in their first meeting.

  Moros spoke first. “What do they call you?”

  He answered, “They call me many things.”

  Moros asked, “Do you know my connection to you?”

  “Yes. You are the Light Bearer.”

  Moros chuckled. “That’s an interesting way of putting it. You could just call me ‘Father’.”

  The man smiled through his beard. “Are you an archangel?”

  “I’m a member of the committee, yes.”

  The nervous tension between them vanished as the man lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Moros, embracing him. Moros happily hugged back. It was his first time meeting his son, but he already loved him. The man was a result of Moros’s selflessness and hope for humanity.

  The man, still embracing Moros, said, “I am glad to finally meet you, Father. You can refer to me by what they call me. You can refer to me by my name…

  “…Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth.”

  It was then Moros noticed the childlike innocence embedded deep in his son, Jesus. He hadn’t been corrupted. He was the purest soul to ever exist. The brightest light to ever shine. With that came a naivety of the power of the darkness.