Salvation (Technopia Book 4)

by Greg Chase

  “Clearly, I am not that Ra. But look closely, Arry. Look at this aura. Look beneath it. Tell me what you see.” Sara let the cape fall off her shoulders. The sunburst of energy that emanated from the film blew back Arry’s dark-red inferno, revealing a young, shapely woman who stood tall with deep red scars circling her stomach and chest like some demented corset.

  Behind the reverend mother, other flames shot up from the ground, some tentative, lasting only a couple of moments, others blasting as if from the depths of hell. Arry’s eyes left their mark on the film. Sara knew exactly where she was looking and how deep. The reverend mother would be able to penetrate the film—that had been expected, even desired. But what would she make of the human energy that lay beneath?

  Arry’s flame died down to gentle waves of fire that caressed her skin like a lover. “You put on a good show—light from the original sun, and being the daughter of the one who claimed to be our god, Sam. But being his child does not give you his powers any more than turning on that lightbulb makes you the primary source of energy in the solar system. I hope you brought more than cheap magicians’ tricks.”

  “I didn’t come here to play games. You have no interest in being cured or freed or saved or whatever else it was my father thought you needed. And you don’t want those things for your followers. I won’t insult your intelligence by offering miracles that you’d consider curses.” The introduction had worked, and hopefully, Arry’s curiosity would allow Sara to make her offer.

  The flames playfully licked at Arry’s breasts. “And what is it you think I do want?” Behind Arry, pillars of flame grew—Tobes of fire who’d be listening in on the conversation.

  “As Reverend Mother, perhaps you’d rather have this conversation in private.”

  Arry’s hand separated from the flames around her and flicked at the barren wasteland. Every fire was extinguished except her own. The two authoritative women stood naked but bathed in a power no garment could replicate, on a desert landscape seething with uncontrolled radioactive energy. “Tell me why you are here, Sara Adamson.”

  “I’m here to give you what you want, what you need—a god to worship.”

  The inferno that engulfed Arry stretched thirty feet into the dark sky. “I need no god. The network is good enough. It provides us with purpose, with our existence. We have no need of a human, divine or not.”

  Sara reached her hand toward the towering conflagration. Focusing the energy of the film, she lowered Arry’s outburst back down to human scale. “I didn’t say I couldn’t do the tricks my father performed, only that I wasn’t here to offer them as anything other than what they are. Our conversation will progress much better if you can control your emotions.”

  A deep scowl appeared in the now visible face. Arry’s hands balled into white-hot fists then slowly lost some of their intensity. “Fair enough. But I still have no need of you.”

  “The network is nothing more than a means of communication. The purpose you refer to comes from the various moon-based corporations and their boards of directors. In your case, I’d guess the Moons of Jupiter’s Board of Shadows dictates your actions. I can free you of that tyranny. I can free all of your followers. But freed, you’d need a figurehead to rally your faction—some unifying symbol you could hold up as the validation of your power.” Sara watched the flames for some sign of her adversary’s thoughts. To her relief, they remained more pleasant campfire than towering inferno.

  “And I’d remain the real power—you’re not some bitch on a goddess power trip?” The flames barely reached Arry’s navel.

  Sara lowered the intensity of the sun her film projected. “I propose a partnership. I have no love of these so-called boards of directors—dictators would be a more appropriate term. You know who I am, so you also know my position on Earth. Rendition’s been edged out of its rightful place among the powerful corporations around Jupiter. In spite of its wealth, being Earth-based carries the stigma of a planet bent on its own destruction. With the Tobes freed from the orders of these moon-based corporations, Rendition won’t have a problem taking over. Your constituents are the real power. I only want them released from their overlords.”

  “At least that’s a motivation I can respect. But what about the death of your father? I may not have liked him, but I want to make sure you don’t hold us accountable.”

  “The Board of Shadows murdered him,” Sara said. “The Tobes were only trying to help—I know that. My vendetta with those men is personal. I may ask for your help at some point, but it’s not to be a part of our agreement.” Sara seethed at the thought of her father being torn apart. She couldn’t see the Tobes as completely innocent, but they weren’t the ones who’d sliced into his control encapsulation. And using their latent guilt for the death of their god could prove useful when the time came.

  The flames around Arry coalesced into a long, flowing red-and-gold cape bordered in black fur that reached up along the sides and back of her head. The white, diaphanous dress underneath did little to hide the woman’s sexual dominance. Sara admired the outfit.

  As she dimmed the solar energy from the film, her simpler black bodysuit regained its opacity. She retrieved her cape to once again complete the ensemble. Arry might be dressed to impress, but Sara knew the utility of a garment meant for action.

  The reverend mother smiled at her new black-clad dominatrix goddess. “We’ll need to find you a place to stay. The town is mostly in ruins, but there are a few large buildings that are still structurally sound.” Fire swept up from the ground like dust as Arry led the way across the barren plain. “How will you release us from the various boards of directors? Your father thought he could simply wave his hand and set us free. He was something of a fool, you know.”

  Sara bristled at hearing her beloved father degraded by an entity of his creation—even though she knew it was partially true. “Take my hand. Let me show you something you might have missed on your inspection of me.”

  The fiery Tobe’s hand felt like molten glass: intensely hot, malleable but only with force, and capable of enveloping anything it grabbed hold of. But Sara knew Arry would be in for a surprise.

  The communication arm of the solar transfer array crackled to life around Sara. Soundless questions from Arry formed in Sara’s ears, using the very network the reverend mother worshiped. Those questions were instantly translated via the film into an energy readable by the Tobes of Earth. The two branches of Tobe evolution could now speak freely for the first time.

  But Sara gave Arry just a small taste before severing the connection. Sparks flashed around the Tobe’s hand as Sara let go. Words printed from Earth across Arry’s molten-glass palm faded away as her fingers traced the remaining letters.

  “Interesting.” But the light in Arry’s wide eyes showed an interest that was beyond curiosity.

  “Together, we can establish a system of communication not based on the Moons’ networks. It’ll take time. But I foresee all Tobes being able to work on either system, your old network or the solar transfer array. Having that diversity will free you from ever having to rely on any human being again. The Tobes on Earth already have that freedom. That’s why the Moons’ boards banded together to deny you that communication. They didn’t want you finding out what was possible.”

  Arry was still examining her hand. “You’d give that power to all of us—not just keep it to yourself. Why?”

  “I’m not greedy, and I’m not altruistic. Being a goddess doesn’t mean I want all of your kind to be forever beholden to me. Call it a bribe if you like.”

  “And at no time will the Goddess Ra expect my people to accept her salvation?”

  Sara knew she was being tested. “Do you seek salvation?”

  Flames shot up from where Arry’s feet touched the ground. “The word itself offends me.” She pulled back the cape of flames. Visible through the thin dress, the scars glowed bright red against her pink skin. “I don’t want forgiveness. Nothing I’ve done has been a sin.
Those are human concepts—false ones at that. Past experiences—battles, teachings, dominations or submissions—have all made me who I am. To have those removed from me would take a piece of my very nature. Who would voluntarily choose to be less mature or to give up their past? Sam’s idea of salvation was nothing more than stripping us of our strengths so we’d be reliant on him.”

  Sara had expected the outburst at some point. The Tobes had to let out their frustration even if it was no longer justified. As she walked slowly beside Arry, she felt each step was another bond in their partnership. “I make no demands. Be who you want to be, but allow the same for anyone who wishes to follow you.”

  “And you don’t care one way or the other about being worshiped? Even though I know your true motivations, I’ll need a way of selling your divinity to the masses. Religions do have a way of putting their deities on pedestals.” Arry kept a watch on Sara from the corner of her eye. Her look of suspicion was hard to miss.

  “The tenets of the religion are your department. Personally, I couldn’t care less. My father never fully accepted being treated like a god, but then, he never got used to running Rendition either. I’ve had enough power to know I like it. It’s a drug but not one I’m addicted to. So if worship helps your cause, then I won’t object, but I also don’t demand it.” Sara watched the lust for power take hold of the reverend mother. Her hands, balled into fists, reminded Sara of Emily when she’d received a much-desired present as a little girl.

  As they turned a corner around the cliff that jutted out into the barren wasteland, the remains of the human habitations came into view. All of the single-story dwellings had been burnt to rubble. Darkened clay and scorched rocks filled the small indentations that had marked the old bars. Arry paused at one. “I used to work there. It never was much to look at even when it was functional. We haven’t discussed people. I don’t want them on my planet. You will be the only exception.”

  It wasn’t difficult to agree to her demand. Not like anyone would voluntarily set foot in such a hell again, anyway. “I can see this radiation doesn’t affect just humans. Why stay?”

  “We have the cascade effect arrested. This moon won’t become another moon-sun, much to the Board of Shadows’ dismay. This is the only planet, moon, or rock in the solar system that is completely under Tobe rule. I won’t let go of it in favor of some human’s idea of livability.” Arry continued her tour down the long, abandoned streets.

  “And the tech-no-sanities, what about them?” Sara wanted to know who she could expect to be in her congregation.

  “We’re all insane to some extent, human and Tobe. At least we Tobes take care of our own.”

  Sara passed her hands around Arry’s feet. A dark patch formed below her body. Had it not been for the radioactive ground, which in Sara’s view of things emitted its own light like a glowing charcoal, the dark patch would have looked like nothing more than shade cast from her figure. To Sara’s surprise, Arry began to shiver as the light that had surrounded her was eclipsed by the inverse shadow.

  “I can help if you want.”

  The once powerful Reverend Mother diminished to a young woman in rags—the waif of a barmaid Sara had heard about from her connection with her father. “Why would I want this?” Arry hissed between blackened teeth.

  Sara waved her hand next to Arry, closing it into a fist as it passed over the shadow. The dark patch rolled up into her hand like a scrap of paper. Arry was once again the great and powerful Reverend Mother, decked out in her finest robes.

  “It may at least prove useful for those suffering the tech-no-sanity.”

  “Those are my people, not yours,” Arry said. “Never allow yourself to forget who wields the power. Go giving out miracles like Santa Claus at Christmas, and you’ll see how fast we can burn a heretic at the stake.”

  Arry stomped as they walked without speaking down the rest of the street. Each firm landing of the Tobe’s foot set off flamethrowers where she stepped. Sara couldn’t give her full power. A goddess had to reserve certain privileges. As a Reverend Mother, Arry would prove unstable on any moon other than Praxidike. That rock might have to serve as Mecca for her followers, but it wouldn’t be the one and only moon for the religion of Ra the sun goddess.

  Arry’s long, skinny arm stretched out from her robes toward the remains of a ten-story building, the largest one still standing. “You can live there. It used to be the corporate headquarters. Now, if you’ll excuse me, your holiness, I don’t think I can stand to be around my goddess a moment longer.”

  Flames leapt up twenty feet where she stood then burned out, leaving Sara alone in the human ghost town. The quiet after Arry’s pyrotechnic personality came as a welcome relief.

  The old glass doors required a hard push to open—the mechanical automation having long ago withered under the intense radiation. Dust covered every surface of the once-prestigious lobby. The smell of furniture decaying before its time stung Sara’s nostrils and made her eyes water.

  But the building wasn’t as deserted as she’d expected. A translucent light-blue wraith that materialized out of the ceiling buzzed Sara with the laugh of a banshee. It swirled around, making her the center of its demented hurricane. Her stomach convulsed from the smells, sounds, and distorted faces that formed and dissipated within the mass of confusion. As she reached out her hand to calm the madness, it disappeared. Perfect. Probably the only haunted building in this town.

  It’d be pointless to call on Arry even if Sara wanted to once again confront that volatile personality. There hadn’t been another building that looked even half as decent in the entire town. She’d have to either tame this tech-no-sanity or find a way to rid the building of it. That ghoul had probably at one time been the Tobe who’d run the corporate headquarters building. Poor soul.

  The elevators looked even less likely to function than the front doors. It didn’t matter. As preteens, she and Emily had been delighted to discover the never-used stairwells in Rendition. The hidden accesses had become their secret passageways for sneaking up on people. These stairs had much the same industrial look: concrete and steel and nothing else. The metal should have felt cold to the touch, but high levels of radiation made them nearly glow. She reminded herself to see things without the enhancements whenever possible. Seen with only her eyes, the railings looked every bit as normal as the ones on Earth. Her leather boots on the cement steps made a scuffing sound that echoed in the narrow but tall space. Apparently, the wraith was as oblivious to stairwells as people had been on Earth.

  It did, however, greet her with a blast of blue fire as she stepped out onto the tenth floor. “This is going to get old really fast. Either present yourself so I can cure you, or back the fuck off, because I’m not leaving and I’m not afraid of you. I have no reason for either. If you’re a follower of the Reverend Mother Arry, you’re about to discover I am your goddess. Submit or leave.”

  As the banshee dove to the depths of the structure, its disembodied sounds echoed up from far below. It would take time to gain that one’s trust.

  Door after door stood open along the tenth floor’s hallway, each revealing plain-looking, deserted offices. Only the last room held any furniture worthy of consideration—a worn sofa that sagged in the middle. It’d been a long day. Sara had no trouble finding the aged couch to her liking as the worn cushions conformed to her body.

  6

  The three-dimensional holographic projection of gunship one-one-four didn’t inspire confidence in Jess’s plan. It looked like a Dionian blowfish with weapons instead of spikes. Jess turned the image a full three hundred sixty degrees. “I saw the bottom of this thing from inside the solar-array satellite, but I don’t remember this many guns.”

  Luther focused the projection to highlight one of a myriad of cannons. “They’ve upgraded. These new blasters are both Tobe and human controlled—a person remotely controls up to five guns with the ship having an additional Tobe for every ten. They may look like separate weapons
, but they function in unison, creating a dome of protection around the ship.”

  Larry bent down to get a better look at what he’d seen on approach during their last encounter. “I guess those in charge of securing the satellites didn’t like the little game of chicken you inspired on your last adventure.”

  Luther pointed to the back of the ship. “Clearly, but those gunships did lose speed and maneuverability in favor of firepower. These engines don’t draw nearly the energy of the ones you ran up against. In full combat mode, these monsters can handle more than an hour of constant weapons’ fire before draining their reserves, though none of us has lasted more than five minutes against them. But they don’t move around much, and when they do, they’re slow.”

  “Who cares about maneuverability if every surface is covered in cannons?” Larry asked.

  Jess moved to the back of the image to inspect the ship’s engines. “It’s an advantage for us. If our smaller shuttles can dive in and pull out fast enough, we might be able to confuse the gunship’s coordination. Those weapons can only fire along a specific slice of the arc like pieces of a pie, so each gunner will have to hand off shooting at us to the next in line as we perform our acrobatics. If we crisscross our attacks, we might be able to confuse those manning the guns as we make our crossovers. And since the gunship can’t move very fast, it won’t be chasing after us.”

  “That’s great, but we still aren’t going to do any damage,” Luther said. “We’ve been going over these schematics for the last week. There’s just no secret flaw that only we are going to find. They designed this ship to be impregnable.”

  Jupiter One-One-Four—the Tobe who manned the solar-array satellite—had described the engines accurately, but only someone intimately associated with the design would be able to access any errors in the redesign. “They downsized the propulsion to gain more power for the weapons. But they didn’t want to change the tubes. So these are short, squat blowers instead of the long, lean jets that were originally designed to fit snuggly into the engine bays.”