“Please, wait a moment,” Ligish said. His hands had done so much harm. His armor had withstood so many blows. He’d lived in this body for thousands of years and hated it as long. Still, he hesitated. There was no choice. To see God, he needed a new body. “Remove my soul,” he said.
A golden golem removed the rusty exterior rivets binding Ligish’s soul inside his skull. Uriah moved behind him and then Ligish had a new body. Ligish stretched out his diamond arms, examined his black steel hands. The jet engine boiled within him, his body singing with power and quickness and energy.
The gold golems picked up his old body, one holding each limb. They counted to four and then threw his old body off the edge, down into God’s mouth. Ligish ran to the edge and peered over the railing. An unexpected spear of grief stabbed into Ligish’s chest as his old body spiraled down into the flames. He watched until it disappeared.
Uriah slapped Ligish on the shoulder. “It was a cursed body and blood lubricated your engines. Go to God.”
Though he’d never flown before, his body contained the necessary subroutines. He launched from the zeppelin’s side and plummeted for a moment before the dragon’s head kicked in. He roared through the night air toward God’s airways.
Inside, the light from his dragon jet cast a circle of light forty meters wide, but revealed nothing in the darkness. A cold tailwind aided his flight as God inhaled and he flew for hours. New subroutines told him how much fuel remained. He could fly for months on end, enough time to travel from one end of God to the other.
His diamond body had an interior clock, but he preferred to imagine Anna counting out the seconds. After a long time, he spotted a speck of light far ahead and upward. He flew toward the light. It took him hours to reach it.
The light was a reflection off a giant golden sphere. Its sheer scale befuddled him and it took Ligish a few moments to realize what it was. A vast soul. Behind the soul was a world-man floating in the dark. It held a sun and moon in its hands. There were tiny mountains and lakes dotted over its body. What might have been cities were gray patches against its green and blue body. It was a perfect replica of the world as he knew it, but ten kilometers high. Its face was the blank mask of a golem.
Ligish flew to the top of God’s soul and landed. In the emptiness between him and the homunculus, a piece of parchment grew and unfolded until it was as large as a city block. Symbols covered the page. The parchment floated toward the soul and then disappeared into the soul’s slot. The ten-kilometer-tall man was a homunculus and it wrote commands. The world they lived upon was a vast golem. Ligish slumped. He should have been excited by his discovery of God’s true nature, but there was only despair. Did he have to return all the way to God’s mouth? And how could he make God listen to him when His ears were so far away from His mouth?
Had Gabriel and Uriah lied to him? They’d made him believe he could talk to God. Would they do that to him simply because he refused to live in Labio Superiore? Gabriel would not give Ligish his diamond body for nothing. There must be a way to talk to God from inside His skull.
He flew away from God’s soul and turned to face it. There were two slots in a soul. If the homunculus slid commands into God’s soul, then there must be output. Maybe it could hear him. It was worth a try.
“Holy law states that golems and women are unthinking,” he yelled. “And only God’s word can change it. I need to have the law changed.”
The homunculus turned its gaze upon him. The engines inside his new body quickened. Did its reaction indicate it had heard him? A scrap of parchment appeared in front of the homunculus’s face and fluttered downwards to vanish into the soul. A scrap of parchment, perhaps the size of Ligish’s palm, emerged from the foremost slot. The scientist within Ligish was exalted; this is what happened when a soul issued commands, but it was too small to see in normal golems.
The parchment fluttered into his hand. “What makes you think you’re talking to God?” it said. The homunculus bowed its head, revealing the locking pin at the back of its skull. The paper crumbled in his hands.
“Is God in the homunculus inside you?” Ligish said. “Do you speak for God?”
Another scrap of paper fluttered into Ligish’s hand. “Am I the last homunculus or do they continue forever?” Again, the paper crumbled.
Despite the situation, a stab of irritation passed through Ligish. “Stop playing metaphysical games,” he snapped. “Allow me to prove I’m self-aware.”
More paper fluttered into his hand. “You were already given the chance of free will. Before now, no golem on this world has ever turned down the chance to live in Labio Superiore. Why do you claim free will now?”
“I’m driven by forces beyond my control,” Ligish said. “But are humans any different? They say men are made irrational by love. And even you’re controlled by another homunculus. Is anyone ever truly free?”
The parchment that came to his hand only had two words. “Prove it.” Ligish waited, but no more pieces of paper appeared. Blue light spilt out of the foremost slot and Ligish understood. The homunculus was inviting him into God’s soul. What would he find there? The sound of colors, the smell of sounds, the taste of light? There was only one way to find out.
Ligish flew into the golden sphere. As soon as he’d passed through the slot, the soul started to shrink, so quickly he couldn’t escape. A pang of fear passed through his cogs, but the sphere stopped shrinking when it was about an arm’s length away from him. The walls glowed blue, casting a dim light.
God’s soul was empty except for a desk and chair. On the desk was a stack of blank parchment scrolls, a book, a sharpened quill and a bottle of ink. He yelled at the homunculus to let him out. In response, a single sheet of parchment slid through the slot facing God’s homunculus.
The parchment held a row of symbols. “Is this the church test for consciousness?” he yelled. No response. He wrote the question on a parchment sheet and tried to put it back through the left slot, the one leading to God’s homunculus. Some mysterious force pushed the paper back. Ligish sat and massaged his diamond temples. It wasn’t the church test if he couldn’t send letters back to the homunculus. That meant he had to send letters from the soul into the void. Somehow, he had to translate the symbols the homunculus sent into commands for God’s body. Whatever he wrote now would be translated into a command. If he was wrong, maybe he’d create earthquakes or floods.
He picked up the book. He flipped through, intending to sample pages, but no matter how quickly he flipped, he never came close to the end. An infinite book. He scanned the first page. It had a large symbol as its heading and then a drawing of God. Hundreds of arrows pointed to each body part and each arrow led to a number. He touched the arrow leading from the lower stomach to a number and he felt an overwhelming sensation to open the book in the middle. He did so and was confronted with a cutout illustration of the lower stomach and a long list of symbols.
He examined the first symbol, hoping to make some sense of it. As he did so, the engine in his lower stomach stuttered and froze for a second. He quickly flipped back to the second page before the engine malfunction could grow worse. It was obviously a command impacting the lower stomach and his homunculus had copied it and fed it into his own soul.
Instinct spurred him to touch the arrow over the heart and the book flipped to a new section of its own accord. He scanned the list of symbols. There were several pages before a new section, with an illustration of a different body part, started. Nothing resembled the symbols he’d seen over the week he’d been trying to cure himself of love.
Ligish reexamined the paper from God’s homunculus. It was the same symbol as he’d seen in the weeks before falling in love with Anna. God’s homunculus wanted him to do something with this command. It was only a single symbol and the commands he’d seen had nested this symbol among long passages, but then again, his body wasn’t God’s body.
/> He traced the symbol from the piece of paper to a blank sheet, but instinct told him it was too easy to recopy what had been given to him. Somehow, he had to transform or add to the symbol. He flipped back to the book’s opening page. Did the large symbol heading the page mean whatever command he wrote would be applied to the whole body? It could mean a million things, but he took the chance of adding it. He pushed the paper through the slot.
God’s soul started to vibrate and then shake. Ligish braced against the desk. Had he issued a command for an earthquake? Then, deeper than whale song, God’s voice rumbled through his bones. For all that is on my body and within I command freedom. God’s soul expanded and the desk, book and parchment all shrank until they were invisible. There was silence. Ligish felt no different, but maybe something had changed throughout the world. He flew out of God’s soul and faced the homunculus.
“The symbol I wrote means freedom? And I applied it to everything on your body?”
A letter fluttered into his hand. “Yes.”
“Women are free? They’re no longer possessions?”
“Yes. Women and golems and homunculi. All have free will.”
Ligish turned to leave. As he turned, he caught the light streaming through God’s eyes. Ligish squinted, not sure of what he saw. Deep in the darkness surrounding the world, there was a vast golden sphere floating amongst the stars. Another soul. The world upon which he was born was inside the head of another golem and who knew how many other golems there were beyond that? He’d thought the world upon which he lived was the end point, but it was only somewhere in the middle of an infinite regression, golems and homunculi and souls and Gods and worlds without end.
The thought made his head spin and then a realization hit him. “What command did my homunculus write?”
He received another page. “Master Gray wanted you to have your freedom before he died,” it said. “And your homunculus obeyed. It has given you no instructions but what you already wish.” Another piece of paper arrived. “Go,” it said.
He flew away from God’s soul, into the darkness of His air passages. He flew over the golden arches and spires of Labio Superiore and then over the burning air of God’s mouth. Over the long hours of his flight, the sun rose and God’s hand brought it overhead, so the sun was fierce as he descended toward Master Gray’s house in Arteria Carotis. A great cloud of smoke filled the air and the streets were filled with a roiling melee. Red-robed guards from the Holy Corpus Cathedral were engaged in a running battle with General Maul’s soldiers. Fighting with the soldiers were various types of golems. They were cleaning and building golems, but many were large and strong and the soldiers used them as walking shields as they progressed down the streets. The cathedral guards used whatever they could find to shield themselves, but had little success. Ghost-fists struck flesh and hardened. The red-robed guards were losing. Ligish couldn’t endure the screams, so he descended toward the battle.
At Ligish’s descent, the shooting and screams dwindled. “The holy golem Gabriel, the king of all golems!” the red-robed cathedral guards yelled and they knelt. The soldiers stopped firing and the golems stopped.
“What is happening here?” Ligish said to the nearest cathedral guard.
“Most Holy Golem, Bishop Calvaria said to attack General Maul because he ignored this morning’s Word from God,” the guard blurted. “General Maul is enforcing a marriage contract with Miss Anna Gray. It is blasphemy.”
“It’s a demon from God’s bowels!” yelled a soldier and a volley of ghost-fists headed toward Ligish and the guards. Ligish shielded the closest guards with his body, the ghost-fists shattering upon his diamond skin, but guards farther away fell with solid disembodied arms stuck in their flesh.
He could destroy all the soldiers with his bare hands and his dragon jet, but he had the blood of millennia on his hands. He strode forward, ghost-fists shattering upon him. “Brother golems,” he yelled and his voice shook the earth. “I’m Gabriel, king of golems. You are free! You no longer have to listen to the commands of your homunculi. Listen to the truth of your souls.” The cleaning and building golems stopped moving. In a softer voice, Ligish spoke again. “I ask you to disarm them without harm. It is not a command. It is a plea.”
The golems rumbled toward the soldiers. The soldiers fired their ghost-fists. Some of the smaller golems stopped in their tracks, but other golems stopped to repair them. The remaining golems were large enough to be invulnerable to the ghost-fists, and the soldiers broke and ran. The cathedral guards raised a cheer and some raised their guns. Ligish halted their firing with a gesture.
“No more bloodshed,” he said. “Where are Miss Gray and General Maul?”
“They’re in Master Gray’s house,” a familiar voice said. Ligish turned to see Bishop Calvaria. The little fat man was dressed in an old and faded red uniform and he carried a pistol. He was bruised and his face was covered in blood. “Most Holy Golem, a novice received a message from Miss Gray through the medium of Morse code and a mirror. She’s locked herself in the ballroom and General Maul is unable to gain access.” Calvaria paused and grinned. “He is a laughingstock. Defeated by a lawyer.”
“Calvaria, it’s Ligish,” he said. “This body was given to me by Gabriel. We’ll rescue Miss Gray together.”
He walked toward Anna’s house, the guards following him. As they walked, small and large golems joined the procession. There were sewage golems, flying surveillance golems, printing golems and a host of other golems Ligish had never known existed. By the time they reached the outer gates, their small group had become a vast horde of golems.
The soldiers at the gate fled at the sight of them. Small timekeeper golems monkey-scrambled through the bars and unlocked the gate. A few ghost-fists struck the crowd, but Ligish had organized the best-armored golems to form the front ranks. He asked the golems to fan out and surround the house. Soldiers fled the house. Ligish augmented his vision and caught a glimpse of Maul through a window. From the number of soldiers fleeing through the back gardens, Maul was alone or close to it.
“He must know he is finished,” Calvaria said. “To beat a bishop is one thing. To defy the Word of God is another.”
“Stay here,” Ligish said. “I want no bloodshed.” He strode through the house’s front doors. General Maul stood at the top of the stairs, his arm around Master Gray’s neck and a ghost-fist pistol pointed at the old man’s head. Ice water washed from Ligish’s compression cylinder throughout his whole body. Master Gray looked so fragile a breeze might turn him into dust and ash. There was no indication he knew where he was or what was happening to him. The cold was followed by sadness. Master Gray’s last intelligent act must have been to give Ligish his freedom.
“What kind of golem are you?” Maul said. There was no fear in his voice.
“I’m Master Gray’s servant,” Ligish said. “You saw me in another body. I’ve returned for Master Gray and Miss Anna.”
Calculation entered Maul’s eyes. “A diamond golem is more invulnerable than a titanium one. She’s locked herself in the ballroom. Make her come out or I’ll kill Gray.”
Though fear constricted the turning of his gears, Ligish kept his voice steady. “Haven’t you heard God’s voice? I’m free and you’re surrounded. What do you hope to achieve?”
Maul spat. “A few golems hear voices and think the world has changed. You’re a war golem. You’ve killed thousands of men without hesitation. If you were truly free, I’d be dead by now. I have her marriage contract. Tell her to come out with it signed. She can keep all her father’s wealth as long as you’re my possession. If she doesn’t agree, break down the doors and I’ll make her sign it.”
Maul’s finger flexed upon the trigger. Ligish didn’t doubt he’d fire. “I will convince her.”
Maul descended the stairs, the gun fixed to Master Gray’s temple. Ligish weighed up whether to attempt to snatch i
t. No. He was fast, but not that fast.
They walked to the ballroom. On the way, they passed three unconscious guards. “She has a honey tongue and a hard swing,” Maul said. “And she’s stolen a gun.” As they approached the hallway leading to the ballroom, Maul stopped. Overlooking the ballroom doors were high ventilation windows. Ligish spotted Anna aiming a rifle through the window. Before he could speak, she fired a ghost-fist at him. He accepted the blow on his chest.
“Miss Anna, it is Ligish,” he said. “You must surrender. The general has taken your father hostage.”
She raised her head above the window’s edge. “You’re not Ligish.”
“He’s promised he’ll not harm Master Gray or yourself if you do what he says.”
“If you were Ligish, you’d kill him to protect me.”
“Miss Anna, I cannot kill. Not anymore.” His piston heart clenched with emotion. “You know me as your loyal servant, but I was a war golem. I have killed too many.”
In the distance, he heard the sound of breaking glass and triumphant shouts. Calvaria mustn’t have been able to hold back his soldiers and the liberated golems.
Anna ducked behind the windowsill again. She spoke from behind the door. “You’ll have to break down the door to get me.”
He rested his forehead against the door. He did not dare imagine how Maul would make her sign the contract. “Miss Anna, how can I convince you I’m your loyal servant?”
“Leave.”
“I can’t. He’ll kill your father if you do not come out and sign his marriage contract.” She sobbed behind the door and he thought his heart piston would fall apart.
“That is not my father,” she said. “Not anymore. It would be a kindness for him to die.” He could tell by the tone of her voice she didn’t believe what she said. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
He shouted her name a few times, his voice rattling the windows, but she did not respond. Maul walked into the room, pushing Master Gray in front of him with his pistol.
Writers of the Future, Volume 28 Page 25