Lazarus Rising

by David Sherman

  Prentiss glanced down at the brief bio sheet the staff had prepared on Oldhouse. "He's known as a prominent theologian," Prentiss offered. "He's published widely."

  "Yeah, I read his crap in the papers this morning, The Theology of Order, one of the most dishonest justifications for dictatorship I've ever read." But Spears also recognized the article as a very intelligent and convincing argument for the faithful to render obedience to the secular state. The piece started out with a survey of all the major religions on the matter, concluding that each recognized the necessity for secular government, under God, and admitted each person's responsibility to obey the laws of their secular leaders.

  "The law of God," Oldhouse had written in his closing paragraph, "binds each of us in the position to which we have been called by God, and commits us to the natural orders under which we are subjugated, such as government, family, people, race... It also binds us to a specific historical moment, to a specific moment of our history. This natural order is decreed by God to serve his purpose of binding society together and creating stability. It must be accepted as a human representation of God's will in an imperfect world. For us on Kingdom, that moment is arrived. That moment in history is now, and the representative of God's will is our noble leader."

  "Dear God," Spears whispered, "I wish old Ted Sturgeon and his boys were back with us now." The Confederation consulate on Kingdom was too small to qualify for a complement of Marine security personnel. "Prentiss, what I wouldn't give this moment for a few of those good men."

  Mugabe called for a halt about halfway up the stairs. "Excuse me, I have to catch my breath," he said with a weak smile. "Miss Devi," he observed, "you don't seem at all winded."

  "I am a professional dancer, Stormleader," she replied with a coquettish smile. "Besides, I'm a few years younger and several kilos lighter than you are." In a society that frowned on dancing for pleasure, Uma had made a career as a ritual dancer among the sects, some of which permitted ballet-type performances as part of their seasonal religious observances. Uma was well-known for her practice of that art, and well-paid for it. The dancing she performed during the Tantric rituals, lascivious as it may have been, was still an important aspect of a genuine religious rite, and done only in secret before the sect's devotees.

  Mugabe smiled back. This woman knew how to flatter a man. He wondered how successful she'd be using that with de Tomas. Well, Mugabe liked her style. He laid a friendly hand on the woman's shoulder. "Miss, when you see our leader, be honest and straightforward with him," he said. She regarded the officer frankly, then nodded. They continued up the stairway. By the time they reached the top, both were breathing heavily.

  "I will wait here, Miss Devi. When you are finished, I'll escort you home." He announced himself through an intercom, and the door to the private study hissed open.

  Miss Uma Devi walked in, and the door closed silently behind her. Mugabe sighed and sat on the top step. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He could still smell the girl's perfume, something that reminded him of fresh flowers. I need to work out more, he thought, still breathing heavily from the climb. Then: I sure hope this damned meeting doesn't take all night.

  There was no one in the study. Uma stood there uncertainly. The room was well-lighted and comfortable; the walls lined with books, the furniture, solid, dressed in leather, masculine but inviting. She wondered if she should call out her presence or sit in one of the armchairs. She decided to remain standing. A full minute went by and still no one came in. She moved to the bookcases on one wall and surveyed the titles on the spines. She pulled one out, Satan, the Early Christian Tradition. The cover depicted a horrible horned beast with wide, staring eyes. Quickly she put it back.

  "Are you interested in such things?"

  She whirled about, and there was the Leader, dressed in a loose-fitting black gown decorated with bright silver goshawks. At first, standing so close to the great man, Uma did not know what to do except stare at him. He smiled at her, and recovering her wits, Uma folded her hands in obeisance and bowed her head respectfully.

  De Tomas covered the short space between them in two strides and held out a hand. "Welcome, Miss Devi. It was very good of you to come at such short notice. And I do apologize for the abruptness. I also apologize for keeping you waiting like this. I have just come up from a press conference in the Great Hall. Would you care to take a chair over here and talk with me for a few moments?" Holding her hand gently, de Tomas guided her into one of the chairs. Uma felt a thrill when his hand touched hers. It was warm and strong and transmitted the energy of a forceful personality.

  De Tomas sat opposite Uma and gracefully folded his legs. Uma brushed as surreptitiously as she could at a rivulet of perspiration creeping down the side of her face. "It's a long climb up those stairs, isn't it?" de Tomas said. "I apologize for that as well. I find that secret staircase useful for very private meetings. I assure you, Miss Devi, if you ever come back to Wayvelsberg Castle, you will use your own pass to get in through the main entrance and take the elevators," de Tomas said with a laugh. "I am looking for a private secretary, Miss Devi. Would you be interested?"

  The question surprised her. "I—I have no experience, my leader," she stammered.

  "Yes, yes," de Tomas nodded, "I know. You are a professional dancer and a devotee of Shaktism. When I was Dean of the Collegium, one of the Brahmans on my staff showed me a trid of you participating in the so-called ‘left-handed’ Tantric ritual. I was impressed."

  Uma smiled and relaxed. So that was it! The left-handed Tantric rituals, as opposed to the right-handed, involved erotic and magical practices. The great Leader of Kingdom, lately the Dean of the Collegium and a figure both feared and respected, but mostly feared, wanted a woman. Uma ran a pink tongue over her lips and laughed outright. She could handle that!

  De Tomas's face went hard. Did this woman think all he wanted from her was sex? Did she find that amusing, as if the Great Leader were no more than an ordinary man after all? "Do not get the wrong impression, Miss," he said. "You are a beautiful young woman, but there are many beautiful women in this world, and if sex were all I wanted of a woman, I could get it just by snapping my fingers." Then he continued in a softer tone, "If you come to live with me—and you'd live here, nowhere else—you would be my consort, much, much more than a mere bed partner. Do you realize what I am offering you?"

  Uma froze. De Tomas was no ordinary cocksman. Mentally she kicked herself for having been caught. In the pit of her stomach she could feel the beginning of a gnawing uncertainty, a growing tendril of fear. This was a man known for sending countless people to their deaths for apostasy. His power now was unlimited, and despite the public image de Tomas had put on recently, she had no desire to displease him.

  "I thought I saw something in you, Miss Devi, something that I admired. Oh, your physical beauty, your athletic body, any man would admire that. But I made inquiries. You have a master of arts in philosophy. You are used to making public appearances. You enjoy sex but you have remained single and you live alone, with your grandmother. That indicates to me that you're a woman who values her privacy and who knows what she wants."

  De Tomas stood up and extended his hand. "I will have you escorted home. Again, thank you very much for coming here tonight. If you should require anything, anything at all, please contact Stormleader Mugabe and he will arrange it. Good evening, Miss Devi."

  The secret door swung open and Stormleader Mugabe stood there. Uma, confused and disappointed, bowed and left the room.

  De Tomas swore. Herten Gorman came in. "She was not satisfactory, my leader?" he asked, an anxious expression on his face.

  "It was the laugh, Herten, the laugh! I will have no one in my presence who dares to laugh at me! Laugh with me, that's different. But laugh at me? She's lucky I didn't have her sent downstairs."

  "I am surprised, my leader, that you did not do just that." Privately, Gorman was wondering what had come over de Tomas recently. He was beg
inning to have the faintest inkling of suspicion that his leader might be losing his edge.

  "Well," de Tomas rubbed his hands together, "back to the drawing board, eh? Keep looking Herten, keep looking. Have that cosmetician,"—Gorman's heart skipped a beat thinking he meant Gelli Alois—"what's her name? Rauber! Have her sent up, will you? It's a little chilly in here tonight." He slapped Gorman heartily on the back. "Herten, you are my deputy leader. Do you think I'd use my position to steal your woman? Tsk tsk, I'm getting a bad reputation around here. Guess I'll have to go back to just killing people." He laughed and walked out of the study.

  Uma Devi stripped and lay naked on her bed. She knew the Leader had rejected her as a possible companion, but she was still flattered he'd even considered giving her that interview. She had seen and learned some very interesting things. Private entrances, secret stairways—214 steps, wasn't it?—to the Leader's private office. She bet not many people knew about such things, much less had seen them with their own eyes. That information could be very useful sometime. Potentially very useful.

  Uma rolled over and spoke into her personal comm. A sleepy male voice answered. "Krishna!" she shouted. "It's Uma! I have some really important news for you!"

  "Uma, do you realize what time it is? I have a very important meeting with the general early tomorrow morning and—" Uma's brother, Krishna, was a "major" under the new system in the Army of God, or whatever they were calling it these days, an aide to an important general officer. Krishna was considerably older than Uma, married with children. His job as the general's aide had kept him out of the horrendous fighting recently, very disappointing to him, but considered evidence of divine intervention by Uma.

  Uma breathlessly told her brother about the visit to Wayvelsberg Castle. A few sentences into the story and he was wide-awake. This was riveting! A private interview with the Leader himself, hidden doorways and a secret stairway! "I'm afraid I upset him," Uma concluded mournfully. "I laughed at him, Krishna, a very bad mistake. So," she brightened, "I guess I won't be going to Wayvelsberg Castle again anytime soon."

  "A good thing, Uma. Keep this to yourself, would you? This information could be, ah, well, not good for you, understand? Now look, I've got to get some sleep. You take care, little sister."

  "One final thing, brother," Uma said, the tone of her voice serious and confidential. "He was nothing like I imagined him to be, Krishna. He was polite to me, kind to me. And I will confess it to you, if he'd picked me for the job, I'd have taken it without hesitation."

  After the call, Major Krishna Devi lay back in his bed and put his arms behind his head. He smiled. That damned sister of his! But that information... What did she say, 214 steps to the Leader's private office? He filed that fact away for future reference.

  Uma lay back on her bed and regarded the ceiling for a moment, then produced her personal comm and asked to be connected to the number Stormleader Mugabe had given her. He answered immediately. His deep baritone voice sent a shiver through the young woman. "Uma Devi, Stormleader. I'm thirsty."

  There was the very briefest silence on the other end, and then, "I get off duty in one hour, Uma. I'll pick you up at your place then."

  Brigadier General Ricardo Banks, Confederation Army, regarded General Lambsblood carefully over his coffee cup. General Banks had only recently been assigned to Ambassador Spears as his military attaché, but he had been thoroughly briefed on the New Kingdom reorganization plans. The Combined Chiefs had decided that once the Skinks had been chased off Kingdom, the time was ripe to assign a senior military officer there to "assist" in the mopping-up operations—and to keep a close eye on what was happening in the army under the new regime.

  "So none of us is happy with these innovations, General Banks," Lambsblood concluded, "but orders are orders."

  "I understand, sir. The changes in your organization and grade structure are certainly far-reaching. I have to confess, though," he chuckled, "that for some reason, I find the new rank system pretty easy to understand."

  Lambsblood joined good-naturedly in the laugh. "I guess we'll get used to it. Say, I'm going to visit my units in the field sometime during the upcoming week, General Banks. That loyalty oath business, you know? Would you like to accompany me?"

  "Very much so." Banks smiled. "I am here at your disposal, General. I'd also like to visit your training facilities and ordnance depots and such. I might find some interesting ways the Confederation can be of use to you. Once this, uh, new man gets your economy back on its feet, I think some upgrades to your weapons systems might be feasible."

  Lambsblood nodded approvingly. "The war with the aliens ruined us. I certainly hope our leader can restore stability and prosperity. Well, I'll have my aide-de-camp set it up, then. Are you returning to Interstellar City now?"

  "Yessir. I'm having lunch with Ambassador Spears."

  A smartly dressed major wearing the newly approved General staff badge came into the room at General Lambsblood's summons. "Have you met Major Devi?" Lambsblood asked.

  "Not formally." General Banks stood up and offered the major his hand. They shook vigorously. Major Devi was a short, well-built man with a very dark complexion and a very black mustache, neatly trimmed, on his upper lip.

  "Ima—I mean Major, General Banks will need assistance developing an itinerary, first to accompany me next week and then to visit some other places. You are to give him carte blanche and your full cooperation in everything. General, the major is an excellent administrator and you will find his services invaluable." He stood up and offered Banks his hand. "I look forward to traveling with you next week, General."

  Lambsblood really did look forward to an association with Banks. He had deeply resented the subordinate role to which he'd been relegated during the war with the aliens, forced to take orders from Brigadier Sturgeon, his army virtually commanded by Confederation Marines. But now that the emergency was over, and especially now that Dominic de Tomas was giving the orders, Lambsblood had reconsidered. Without the Marines, he had to admit, all would have been lost. He was uncertain, too, of his future with de Tomas. He had the uncomfortable feeling the Leader and his deputy were only using him, and that once his usefulness was over... This Brigadier General Banks and Ambassador Spears might turn out to be the most valuable allies he'd ever had. It was known that people had been granted asylum in diplomatic enclaves.

  On the way to his car Banks chatted amiably with Major Devi. "How do you like the reorganization of your army, Major?"

  Devi shrugged. "Well, I never really liked being called an ‘imam.’ I'm a Hindu, you know?"

  "Well, I for one am glad de Tomas made the changes, Major. At least I know who I'm dealing with now." They had arrived at his car. Banks held out his hand, "Major, I really am here to be of assistance." They shook again. "I think I'll like working with you, but please remember, our association is a two-way street." He pointed his forefinger at Devi's chest. "Major, you let me know if I can help you in any way. Any way."

  All military attachés were spies; Devi knew that. Was Banks offering his help for inside information? If he were to give it, would that constitute treason? Dominic de Tomas, no matter what his image was supposed to be these days, had killed a lot of innocent people in his time. He had seized the government of Kingdom in a coup using the Special Group, as ugly a menagerie of professional killers as anyone could imagine. Life was in no way safe yet on the world called Kingdom.

  Major Krishna Devi watched Brigadier General Banks's car disappear down the road. Yes, he thought, yes, I am definitely going to like working with this man.

  Chapter 7

  Emwanna Haramu knew how to survive in the wilderness. The food the soldier had given her helped, but what saved her and Chisi, her baby boy, was her knowledge of her environment, which plants were edible, which had stores of carbohydrates and water a person could survive on without cooking them; she also knew how to construct snares and traps to catch the tiny meat-bearing creatures native to Kingdom that wer
e good to eat. Perhaps most important, she knew how to navigate by the stars and she understood that if she traveled long enough in a certain direction, she would come to a settlement of the Powerful Ones, as her people called the other humans in the world. And of course she knew the proper rites to propitiate the spirits that dwelt in all natural objects.

  Emwanna did not thrive on her desert diet, but she survived, as her people had survived for countless generations in the deserts and wild places on Old Earth.

  The Pilipili Magna, Emwanna's tribe, had come to Kingdom years before as "domestic" servants indentured to members of the Malakals, a warlike Muslim sect native to the Sudan back on Old Earth. Historically, the Malakals were slavers, although over the centuries, changing times and stricter enforcement of laws had weaned them from that occupation. But on Kingdom the Pilipili Magna had existed in virtual bondage to the Malakals until the Malakals were finally crushed in one of Kingdom's many sectarian wars by a coalition of mainstream—by Kingdom's standards—groups. Afterward the Pilipili Magna, freed from their bondage, fled to the wild and remote regions of Kingdom and resumed the primitive, nomadic lifestyle of their ancestors. Since they were a very small group and dwelled only in the most inaccessible places, nobody had troubled them—until now.

  After many days in the wilderness, Emwanna and Chisi found their way to New Salem.

  The first few days "Military Operation" was with the Brattles, he ran a high fever and was delirious much of the time. His two companions, who'd been taken into different households to recuperate, were not much better off. Aside from some brief moments of coherence, he muttered and screamed unfamiliar words and phrases sounding like commands and warnings, but nobody could understand them. Gradually, however, the fever subsided and his mind cleared.