by David Beers
Rhett stared at him for a long time. Others left, but he kept looking, his mind thinking nothing. Finally, at some point, he looked up and realized there was no one else in the room. Only him and the man he’d grown jealous of. The man who had given his life, and as the empty room around Rhett could attest, there was nothing to be seen for his gift.
Ten
The True Faith Ministry
Raylyn looked at the green words populating the screen.
GET ME OUT. NOW.
Lynda sat next to Raylyn. They’d set up the meeting almost immediately following her trip to the First Council.
The words on the screen were different than the ones she’d seen last time. Still masked, but fear nearly blasted out from them. Last time, the emotion underpinning the words had been muted, practically nonexistent.
Now, though, Raylyn felt them almost as if the person was unmasked.
What happened? Lynda asked.
He killed someone. He killed someone saying that the man was a traitor, and he was working with me.
Who did he kill? Raylyn said.
What do YOU care? You didn’t know him. You didn’t eat with him 100 times over the past five years. What’s it matter who he was to you? Just GET ME OUT.
Raylyn looked over at Lynda. “They’re panicking.”
Listen, Raylyn said, turning back to the screen. We can’t help you if you’re down there with them. We can’t do anything right now. We don’t even know who you are.
You have to take him soon. If you don’t, it’ll be too late. What he did to Stellan— Raylyn heard the name and her nanotech started working immediately. A screen popped up next to her, listing all known people by the name, both born and aliases. The whites of Raylyn’s eyes lit green, and the screen curved around to Lynda’s side so that she could start with it.
—It’s power you don’t understand, the informant continued. You’ve got to get me out and then you’ve got to take him down.
Then let us get you out, Raylyn said.
How?
We need to know where you’re at.
No, the informant said. I’m not doing that. I’m not giving you this place.
Why not?
Because I’m not letting everyone die. If you show up, that’s what’ll happen. You’ll kill us all just to get to him, and the people here don’t deserve that. No. I’m not telling you where he’s at.
Then how do we get you out? Raylyn asked.
The screen in front remained frozen.
“There’s a lot of Stellans,” Lynda said, focused on the smaller screen in front of her face. “We’re looking at over 100,000. Eliminating women, that puts us at just about 77,000. Pushing age down below 50, and we’re at 50,000 or so. It’s too many.”
Raylyn didn’t look over, but waited on a response. She’d been tasked with finding this Prophet, with stopping the Black, and a lot of it depended on what was said over the next few seconds. If she couldn’t work this informant, then she might come up empty.
Coming up empty for the First Council was the same as coming up empty for Corinth himself.
I’ll have to figure out another way, the screen finally said.
Raylyn was quiet for a second, not directing any thoughts toward the screen. She needed to be careful here. The informant was nearing a panic, if not already in one, and pushing too hard might throw everything off.
Will you tell me about him? she asked. Whoever this person was, they’d spent years and years following someone they thought a prophet. Regardless of the decisions they were making now … they still had to feel something for him.
I’m not giving you his name. I just fucking told you that.
I know. I don’t mean his name. I mean, what’s he like? Raylyn said.
Lynda looked over at her, forgetting about the screen showing the names.
No new words were printed for seconds, and then minutes. Raylyn would have thought the person left, except the connection still lived.
Finally, the screen read, He’s different. I used to think special, and maybe he still is. Or maybe he’s just different. He’s always been different; the world can’t touch him. Maybe it’s the Unformed that makes him so, or maybe it’s just him. I don’t know and I don’t think it matters anymore. He’s more powerful than you can imagine, you or any of your Priests. He’s the Prophet, even if he’s lost.
Raylyn remained quiet for a few seconds, Lynda now paying attention to the informant’s words as well.
Why did you change your mind? Why are you turning him in? Raylyn said.
You know who Rachel Veritros was? the informant asked.
Yes.
Do you know what happened to her?
She was killed.
Do you know how she was beaten?
In the end, she overreached.
No, the informant said. That’s what your history reads, but it’s not the truth. Once you understand Rachel, you’ll understand me. Now, I’m tired of playing psychoanalyst with you. I’ll contact you soon and I’ll tell you how you’re going to get me out. Within the next day or so.
The connection died.
“Why did you ask that?” Lynda said. “Why those questions?”
Raylyn was quiet for a moment, not liking what they’d said about Veritros. She knew these people were barely human, nearly subhuman. Heathens. But still, she didn’t like hearing their nonsense, all of it blatantly against the Priesthood. They were evil, and yet she had to figure out how to save this person.
That’s not true, she thought. Your instructions are clear. They’re not to live any longer than necessary.
Raylyn felt some peace in that, knowing all of the people who believed such blasphemy wouldn’t survive, but yet … it all scratched at her.
“Hey? You okay?” Lynda asked.
“Not really. I hate hearing things like that. Things against the Priesthood.”
Lynda was quiet for a few seconds and finally Raylyn pushed the thoughts from her mind. She stood up from her chair.
“Okay,” she said and started pacing across her office. “That can’t happen again, and we’re no longer waiting on them to tell us where to go. We’ve got a name—Stellan. There’s a lot of people with it, but that’s what we have. I want you working that name. Narrow it down to people that haven’t been seen or heard from over the past five years. If that’s too many, make it shorter.”
Lynda was working on the smaller screen as Raylyn spoke.
“Five years puts us at 5,000. You push it back to three years and we’re at 1,000.”
“That’s doable,” Raylyn said. She kept pacing. “How many people can we get for this?”
“That are free?”
“Yes.”
“We can move 100 without any problem,” Lynda said.
“That’s not enough. We need five times that, and if you don’t have the resources, then I’ll go to other Divisions.”
Begin readying for courtship, Raylyn’s nanotech said.
She looked up to Lynda.
“I got mine, too,” Lynda said. “You haven’t asked for an exemption?”
Raylyn gritted her teeth, knowing any interruption right now was insane. It could literally put the world’s existence in danger.
Yet, in that moment, she also thought about Manor—and happiness resided there.
“No,” she finally said. “I’m going to call and cancel, though.”
“You can’t cancel, Raylyn. It’ll trigger flags and you’ll have the Procreation Division coming here.”
“They’ll have to take it up with the Priesthood, then,” Raylyn said.
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have permission.”
Raylyn sighed and looked out the office windows. “How’s your courtship going?”
“New guy this week.”
“Didn’t like the last one?”
“He didn’t like me,” Lynda said.
“You think it’s us or that the job is cursed? Sometimes I like to think it’s the job
.”
“What about your guy? What’s his name?”
“Manor,” Raylyn answered. “I thought he was going to eliminate our courtship after our last date, but he actually sent me a gift.”
“Really? What?”
Raylyn heard the smile in Lynda’s voice, one growing on her face as well. Somehow, with everything going on around them, she still smiled when thinking of him.
“Just a new Corinth token to use at service.”
“That was thoughtful,” Lynda said. “So, what do you want to do?”
Raylyn sighed. “You’re right, canceling this close to courtship will trigger flags. Explaining to the Procreation people what we’re doing here will take even more time. I guess we have to go. I’ll come back tonight and keep working when we’re finished, but you don’t have to. We can continue tomorrow morning.”
“Are you going to sleep here tonight?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. I just know I’ve got a mandate and I’m nowhere near completing it. This courtship business isn’t helping either.”
“Alright,” Lynda said. “I’ll come back when I’m finished.”
“You don’t have to,” Raylyn said, turning around.
“Come on. You know I’m not letting you work all night alone.”
Raylyn stood on the Prevention Division’s platform, watching as Manor’s transport pulled beneath the overhang.
The door opened and he stepped out.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning in for a hug as he approached her—forgetting the typical greeting.
“Hey, no problem. I’ve got work I can do, too.”
“You’re saving me right now.” Raylyn pulled away, dropping her hands so that they held his. “Seriously. I can’t afford a flag right now, but I’ve got to keep working on this.”
“I promise, it’s not a big deal,” Manor said. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
Raylyn looked at him for another second, then leaned in and kissed him before moving toward the door. It took Manor a second to recover, but she heard him coming shortly after. It was the first time their lips had touched, and Raylyn smiled as she walked inside the Division’s building.
She’d asked Manor if they could move their courtship from a show they were supposed to see, and instead he fly two hours to her office.
“Sure,” he’d said without hesitation.
“Did you hear me correctly?”
“Yes. You want to have our courtship at your office because you have work that needs to be done.”
She had fallen quiet for a second. As she was calling him, she’d figured he would eliminate the courtship. She hadn’t wanted that—surprisingly—but knew she couldn’t take time off. Him ending it would trigger no flags.
Yet, here he was, walking behind her.
“Slow down,” he called. “You must have been some kind of star athlete as a kid.”
“Not me. I was one of the smart kids, always getting picked on.” Raylyn stopped at her office door. Manor stepped up and looked inside.
“Wow.”
“I won’t pretend to be modest. I like it, too,” Raylyn said.
“I’m in the wrong line of work.” He stepped inside. The room remained still and dark until Raylyn followed, and then lit up, the screen appearing at the side of her face.
She sent it to her desk, turning it opaque so it couldn’t be read.
“Don’t want me looking, eh?” Manor asked as he sat down.
“Actually, it has nothing to do with want. I honestly can’t say anything about it.”
“What’s the word for that?” he said.
“Confidential.”
“That’s right. It’s confidential?”
Raylyn nodded, returning his smile.
“Why?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly,” he said.
“True Faith security concerns. If it got out, it could cause a panic.”
He nodded, his own screen filling the air next to his face. He brought it down to the desk, laying it down like an ancient tablet. “Well, let’s get to work then.”
Raylyn nodded, still smiling.
I like him, she thought. I actually do.
He had come. He’d been told nothing about the work she did. And now, he was ready to spend the next three hours not talking, but letting her do what she needed.
“Thank you,” she said. “Again. Thank you.”
Four hours passed before Lynda returned. Manor had left an hour earlier, and Raylyn found it harder to focus after he was gone; her thoughts kept wandering to him. She’d been in courtship for a long time, but none of the men had ever made her think about them once they left. He was the first, and Raylyn didn’t know how to feel about it.
Much of the hour between his leaving and Lynda’s return was spent contemplating what that meant.
And in the end, Raylyn still didn’t know.
Lynda walked into her office. The SkyLight outside was at peak night, the false moon as high as it would rise. The outside temperature inside was growing chillier by the hour—everything programmed as perfectly as possible to resemble the world above.
“We give thanks,” Lynda said, stopping and casting her eyes downward momentarily.
“We give thanks.”
“How was the date?” Lynda asked as she moved across the room, her screen appearing next to her face.
“It was ….” Raylyn’s screen closed and she leaned back in her chair, looking at Lynda. “You mind if we talk about it for a second?”
Lynda was sitting down as Raylyn asked, but paused midway. A smirk grew on her face and then she finished sitting. Her screen disappeared. “Sure … What do you want to talk about?”
“Have you ever liked any of the men you’ve been courted by?” Raylyn asked.
“I guess, sure.”
“How much? Have you ever been upset when one of them eliminated it?”
“Umm, yeah, maybe. I’ve never cried over it, though.”
“Why not?” Raylyn said.
“I don’t know. None of my courtships have lasted longer than six months. That probably has something to do with it.”
“And after six months, you didn’t like them enough to cry?”
Lynda chuckled. “I ended the one that went six months.”
Raylyn nodded and then looked up toward the ceiling. “I think I like this one.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I kissed him tonight when he got here.”
“Wait. Got here?”
Raylyn nodded. “Yeah. I asked him to come here, thinking he would just eliminate the whole thing, but he didn’t. He came.”
Lynda was quiet for a second and Raylyn thought she understood why. “I didn’t show him anything I was working on, so stop worrying.”
Raylyn looked over at her and Lynda nodded. “So you like him? How was the kiss?”
“Good. I liked that, too, but I don’t know if this is just bad timing. I don’t have time right now, and the responsible thing to do would be to ask for an exemption until this is done.”
“Buuuuut, you don’t want to?”
“No. I don’t want to,” Raylyn said.
“What’s your courtship schedule like right now?”
“Once every two weeks.”
“Two or three hours each time?” Lynda asked.
Raylyn nodded.
“You can handle that. It’s not much time. I wouldn’t ask for the exemption.”
Raylyn sat up. “You wouldn’t?”
“No. Four hours a month isn’t going to make or break this.”
“It’s not a normal assignment, Lynda. This is the Black.”
“I know. And if four hours separates us from complete annihilation, then maybe we weren’t meant to hold on to Earth.”
Raylyn stared at her for a few seconds, not fully liking what she was saying, but also understanding the truth of it. Corinth had said clearly that the world was theirs, as long as they foll
owed His guidance—but … Lynda wasn’t challenging that, not really.
She was simply saying Raylyn had time to court, if that’s what she wanted.
“Okay,” Raylyn said, pushing away all thoughts of Manor. “I’ll deal with it later. Let’s talk about this Stellan person.”
Both of their screens came to life. Lynda pushed hers into the middle of the room and stretched it out, the words growing large enough for both to read.
“I did some work on the way back, and the numbers are manageable, Raylyn, but they could be a lot more manageable if we used some … unorthodox methods. We wouldn’t need to use anyone else, at least not yet.”
Raylyn caught Lynda’s eyes.
“What kind of methods?”
“We could send out a pulse.”
Raylyn looked at her subordinate for another second and then turned her eyes to the screen hanging in the middle of the room.
“It would work,” Lynda said. “It would tell us who was still here and who wasn’t. I doubt a whole lot of Stellans died in the past two days.”
Raylyn said nothing. Lynda was right, the pulse would certainly tell them who still lived, but she was also right in its unorthodoxy. Raylyn had the means to do it, if not quite the authority. The pulse would send out micro-bits, looking for preprogrammed nanoparticles. Once the micro-bits hit the target, they boomeranged back to their source. If they never returned, it meant they never found what they were looking for.
So, they could send out a pulse, and the micro-bits that didn’t return would contain the nanoID of the missing Stellan—or rather, anyone with that name who had died this week.
The problem was the authority.
They never used a pulse on such a massive level, not as far as Raylyn knew. Usually, pulses were granted when you were looking for one preprogrammed individual, wanting to simply see if they were still alive. The micro-bits wouldn’t give location, or anything else revealing—it only confirmed whether the nanoparticles still existed. And even then, there were parameters that limited the scope.