by Greg Chase
Sara felt distinctly exposed. “I told you to read me. It’s not my fault you didn’t look close enough. The film isn’t something I was attempting to hide.”
Arry’s all-too-familiar sneer filled the room. “But you’re not some holy being. You’re not god. You’re only another human trying to pull tricks on us.”
“I did free you and all of your followers. That wasn’t a lie. Nothing I’ve said or done has been untrue.”
“You abused the partnership. What happened today was not the action of equals. You took advantage of me.” Arry parted her robes to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. “And now I’m going to do the same to you.”
Sara didn’t see any point in resisting. To give Arry free reign of her body would only prove to the woman that Sara wasn’t the physical shell she inhabited, unlike the Tobes, who were far more connected to the representation they put forth. She stepped out of the tub, presenting herself to the Tobe, who was nearly drooling with lust. “Do your worst.”
Sara hadn’t been taken so hard since her days learning about sex from Mira. Her submission carried the familiar liberating feelings of release and freedom at not having to plan out the actions. Other than that, however, the consummation meant little to her. Her body was merely a tool to experience life. And if the aggressive grunts from Arry were any indication, Sara might well have found another means of keeping the reverend mother in line.
But there was someone else who was less thrilled by the liberties Arry had taken. The blue wraith hit the reverend mother in the midst of her throes of ecstasy, knocking her to the far side of the room and reigniting her into the conflagration that was never far below the surface. The two balls of fire—one in yellows and reds, the other in shades of blue—attempted to consume each other.
Sara struggled with her emotions. Would it really be so bad if the two forces annihilated each other? Is that even possible? Much as she hated to admit it, she still needed Arry. She inserted her naked, dripping-wet body between the two raging infernos. “Stop. I command you both to stop.”
The ball of blue fire disappeared into the wall as Arry reformed into the angry Reverend Mother. “I didn’t need your help.”
“I didn’t think you did. This is my living area, and I’d just as soon not have it burned to the ground.”
The red glow eased from Arry’s eyes. “It’s just as well. You couldn’t handle me if I really let loose all of my sexual energy—even with that protective coating. Just don’t forget that I can pull emotions from you anytime I wish.”
Flames shot up from where Arry stood. To Sara, it looked like a cheap magician’s trick. As expected, when the fire burned out, Arry was nowhere to be seen.
“Henry, fetch me a robe.”
He’d dived for cover the moment the reverend mother appeared. It was time to let him know she didn’t hold him responsible.
The terrycloth he placed over her shoulders absorbed much of the water and sweat that covered her body. She grabbed his hand as he attempted to leave her. “It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you.”
He stood with his head down as she turned to him. “What do you know about that blue ball of fire? I assume it’s a Tobe suffering from the tech-no-sanity.”
“Prax used to run this building when it was the corporate headquarters. There’s no love lost between him and the reverend mother. He was the most powerful Tobe on Praxidike until the corporation pulled out. It wasn’t a surprise to any of us when he went over the edge.”
“Is there any hope for him or for any Tobe who comes down with the tech-no-sanity?”
Henry frowned at Sara. “Of course. Your father saved Achim when he was here. It was a test from Arry—one of the first acts that established her as reverend mother. And when your father died, he promised that anyone that asked for salvation could have it. But not many ask, even if the alternative is tech-no-sanity.”
“Why not?” Sara asked.
“Many see the cost as being too high. If the reverend mother finds out—and it’s easy to see who has because they lose their scars—she kicks them off Praxidike. Sometimes being a part of something and suffering is better than being all on your own.”
Sara examined the naked boy from head to toe. “You don’t have any scars.”
Henry turned around. Across his buttocks and thighs were fine intersecting whip lines. “I’ve never struggled much with morality, so my marks are less noticeable than many other Tobes. Those of us that had feelings of obligation toward people, or a desire to have a positive impact on the people we knew, suffered the worst when the corporations told them to do something opposed to their beliefs. I’ve done my best to steer clear of such ideas.”
His explanation made sense. If there was no canon to follow, there’d be no repercussions to his actions. “Can you find me another outfit? You tore my last one to shreds, and I want to go meet these tech-no-sanities.” The bathrobe really wouldn’t do. And though she’d always loved being nude, she needed to save that for special occasions such as liberating the oppressed.
“What’s there to meet? They’re all emotion and no logic. It’s not like you can carry on a conversation with one. Take Prax for example. Even if you could pin him down, what do you think you could accomplish?” He did, however, fumble with a replicator in the closet of the bathroom. Turning around, he held up a stretch-to-fit synthetic one-piece outfit that resembled a plunging V that would start at her shoulders and end in a narrow strip of fabric barely covering her crotch. It looked even less demure than what she’d previously worn. Attempting to keep the fabric in place over her breasts as she tried it on was more awkward than being naked.
“I won’t know what I can do for them until I meet them. Do they congregate somewhere?”
“There’s a cave outside of town, up on the ridge. I don’t know how many of them there are, or even if they all stick together, but that hole in the ground was always used to frighten us. ‘Do as you’re told, or find yourself thrown in the hole with the rest.’ I think Prax is the only one still anchored to a specific location, so he’s the only one whose whereabouts I can tell you for sure.” Henry folded the bathrobe and began tidying the bathroom.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to go now.” She hadn’t struggled into the uncomfortable garment for nothing.
Henry hung back as Sara crested the lip of the mountain ridge. She turned to see if he intended to keep up. In spite of her irritation at the boy, she had to admit he looked damn fine in the scout uniform—even if he was a little too old for it.
As the wind switched directions, a barrage of screams made her turn back toward the cliff. As if the yells of agony weren’t bad enough, the stench the breeze carried from the pit of despair nearly knocked her back down the hill.
Henry struggled up next to her, sniffing the air. “It only gets worse the closer you get. We don’t even know why it smells. It’s not a sense we have much use for other than reading pheromone levels or airborne contaminants. So how and why the tech-no-sanities put that into the air is a mystery though I suppose it keeps the nosy away. Ha, ha—I made a joke.”
Sara gave him a sideways glance. “We’ll have to work on your sense of humor.”
Henry pointed at a spot where two rocks leaned against each other. “That’s the entrance. I’ll go with you if you want, but honestly, those guys give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“No, stay here. I don’t expect any problems, but it’ll be good to know I have someone on the outside who knows where I am.”
The closer Sara got to the opening, the more her stomach complained about this being a bad idea. The degree of stench grew with the screaming, but she had to know more about these tortured beings.
“Joshua, keep a close hold on me. I suspect these unfortunate creatures might lead to an answer to our problem.”
The image of her assistant back on Earth—so far away—flashed in front of her eyes. He nodded once then returned her vision to the hell in front of her. As she sque
ezed between the two boulders, the film around her body tingled with energy, indicating Joshua was keeping a very close watch.
Her ears hurt from the decibel level of the disembodied, meaningless sounds of torment and anger. At least it’s a distraction from the smell. The low ceiling and tight passage lined with jagged volcanic rock tore at her body suit. But when she inspected the film, it appeared none the worse for wear. As she rounded the large boulder that sat just inside the entry, she got her first sight of the teeming horde that filled the cavern below.
Beings made of nothing more than flames struggled between naked bodies covered in sores and deep, gaping wounds. The bodies didn’t look human. An arm or leg was all she could make out. As she watched, it became clear this wasn’t a battle. The flames were in as much torment as the broken bodies.
Using the film, she stretched out her thoughts onto Praxidike’s network. There had to be something she could connect to, someone who would hear her words in this mass of mangled Tobe life. A signal came in crisp and strong, but it wasn’t from one of the Tobes. At the far end of the cave, lights flickered on an outdated bank of computers. This was Praxidike’s original connection to the Moons’ networks. It had to be. The original builders of the moon would have wanted it kept secret and safe. But the tech-no-sanities, lacking the logic to strike out on their own, would have found the energy from the direct connection irresistible.
“Joshua, what do you think?” She had to yell to hear her own words.
“I can hear you fine. That’s not what we expected, but it should work even better than what we’d planned. Still, if possible, I’d like to connect to one of the tech-no-sanities. It’ll help us understand them better, which could prove useful.”
I just knew you were going to say that. “I’ll do what I can. But they don’t look very social.”
“Understood. Once you get to that mainframe, look for available signals. You should be able to pick me up. All I need is a direct connection and you can get out of there.”
Gee, is that all, Joshua? Sheesh. All I have to do is walk across hell. Oh, and if one of the demons looks friendly, have a little chat as well? Then mess with the moon’s most secure computer. And just for fun, walk back across hell. “I’m on my way. It’ll probably be too loud for communication.”
Sara clambered down the slope to the floor of the great chamber. The mass of insanity in front of her grew into a wall of fire and body parts, each thrusting at her in despair. She edged the tip of her black leather boot into the madness. “Calm down, and let me pass.”
To her amazement, the wall did as she’d commanded. The flames around her fell at her feet and caressed up the sides of her boots as she moved forward into the tumult. Even the screams diminished as she began to traverse the room.
It wasn’t until she’d crossed halfway into the chamber that she realized she wasn’t alone with the tech-no-sanities. The shadow she cast continued forward after she’d stopped to get her bearings—a shadow much too large to be made by her body. How can beings made of fire block the light?
A familiar voice cut through the rabble. “They can’t, but I can.”
Sara spun in her tracks toward the source of the voice. What the hell is Iam doing here? But she was in too much shock for words.
“I couldn’t leave you to enter hell alone. These poor unfortunates won’t bother you with me here.” He turned slowly to the furious crowd. His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Be at peace.”
Though the flames continued, the body parts coalesced into individual forms. Still gravely damaged, the beings no longer raged against their condition but stood solemnly facing Iam.
She knew she shouldn’t push her luck. In the relative calm, she could race across the room and dial up Joshua. But Iam wasn’t the type to show up on command. She might not get another chance. “I’d like to meet one if it’s not asking too much.”
A tall, dark man stepped forward through the flames. His face was so distorted only one eye and a gash that used to be his mouth were still distinguishable. The scars that crossed his chest were so deep Sara could make out the bleached bones of his ribs and under them the gushing blood of his beating heart. What was left of his genitals displayed deep rope lines and thousands of minute cuts. His powerful legs had very little skin left to cover the muscles.
Sara attempted not to stare. “What is your name?”
“Pain, torture, fire.” The words opened old scars around his mouth.
“They don’t have names,” Iam said. “There’s no logic left to answer your questions. It’s all pure emotion. All they’ll be able to tell you is their reaction to what you have to say, if even that.”
Sara struggled with how to ask a question that would make sense. “Why don’t you accept the salvation offered through the network? You could be free.”
“Loneliness, alone, excluded, banished, pain, torture.”
“I understand. The Reverend Mother Arry would excommunicate you from Praxidike. But that still must be better than what you endure.” Sara tried to focus on his one good eye, which had hints of amber mixed in with the bloodred iris.
“Fuck Arry.” A fury of flames surrounded the tortured soul.
“If this is where you wish to be, I won’t bother you,” Sara said.
“Guilt, penance, pain, fire.” The man began to fade back into the inferno.
Sara reached out her hand. “Please, let my friend talk to you. I promise he won’t do anything to you that you don’t want.”
The man stood still. Of course—that wasn’t a question looking for an emotional response. “Joshua, can you hear me? If so, this is the best I can do.”
The orange-and-yellow flames that surrounded the man developed light-blue highlights. The color darkened and grew as Sara focused on it until he was engulfed in the new fire. But it didn’t extend beyond the one soul and quickly died away.
Iam leaned in close to Sara’s ear. “We’d best be going.”
As Sara returned her attention to the rest of the room, she saw what must have concerned Iam. The flames that had been human in scale now stretched from floor to ceiling along the far wall—completely covering the alcove containing the network mainframe.
The beings responded to her pace as before, lying down at her feet as she walked, but not all were reverent. Those who wished to have no part in this interloper’s inspection of their hell began stacking up against the far wall like hurricane-driven waves crashing against a cliff. She didn’t need to hear their words to know what they were thinking. Trapped, scared, threatened.
As the accumulation of beings filled the space in front of her from floor to ceiling, Iam stepped in front and extended his hands. The flames separated into two mighty walls with just enough room between them for her to pass.
Sara wasted no time. Her boots scraped along the ground as she attempted to run while ducking under the canopy of sanity that stretched overhead between the two walls of flames. As she dove into the antechamber, the infernos crashed back together.
The room, carved out of the rock, reminded her of a small office space in the middle of a manufacturing plant—a pocket of peace in the midst of raging machines of chaos. The aged computer terminal fit right in.
Iam materialized next to her, slightly out of breath and smelling of burnt sulfur. “I’m afraid I can’t help you much. Computers were never my thing.”
“Seriously? You’re God, a being made of technology, and you walk me through hell only to tell me computers aren’t your thing?”
Iam shrugged. “What can I say? I was made to help people evolve, not come up with answers for them.”
The argument would have to wait for another time. “Joshua, any chance you’re still connected to me and can help out here?”
The film over Sara’s eyes filled with the image of Joshua. But he wasn’t focused on her. He looked to be inspecting something on her chin. As she dropped her head back to the computer in front of her, his eyes rose back to hers. You’re using
my eyes to look at the computer. Duh.
“Fascinating. We’re just beginning to figure out how that moon network works.” Joshua hit some keys on his computer, a world away from Sara.
“So you’re telling me you don’t understand this thing either? Great.” I’ve come all this way just to look like a cavewoman staring at something I have no hope of understanding.
“Not at all—just the opposite. The original builders didn’t use any of the Moons of Jupiter’s networks for this mainframe’s security system. They used Earth’s. It’s kind of brilliant—no one out there would be able to figure it out.” As Joshua continued hitting buttons in his office on Earth, lights began flashing on the console in front of Sara.
He read out a series of instructions, and Sara pushed the corresponding buttons in front of her. Perfect. Now I’m the trained monkey obeying what the computer voice in my head tells me to do.
The image of Joshua disappeared from the film in front of her eyes to be replaced by the same image on the computer’s screen in front of her. “I’m all set, Sara. I think we have what we need from Praxidike. One moon down, sixty more to go.”
10
A small line of dots on Rampike’s bridge view screen indicated the convoy they’d been seeking. Three months of raiding the Moons’ cargo ships had resulted in the corporations taking increased measures to hide their commerce. The latest method was to use smaller container ships hidden among the typical transport shuttles. And somewhere in that grouping of random vessels would be a fast-attack guard ship on the lookout for pirates trying to make a name for themselves.
Jess settled into the familiar captain’s chair for her late-night watch at the helm. Thanks to Larry’s tutelage in operating the craft and Spike’s adjustments of his controls to her liking, she’d learned to love the late-night solo duty. Her time maneuvering the ship helped confuse the Moons’ convoys. Each member of her crew had a different style at the helm. Spike liked the direct approach, guns blazing if possible. Larry would ease Rampike in a casually parallel course while he identified each of the ships before making his approach. Dagwood, their guide from Hektor, preferred to coordinate his attacks with other pirate ships. However, as this usually resulted in increased hands taking from the spoils, it became clear Dagwood chose the method more for personal reputation among his fellow pirates than for tactical advantage. Jess didn’t mind. The more pirates who became beholden to Rampike, the better.