Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena

by Martin Schiller

  The colonists had prepared a dinner for them in their honor and although Kaly tried her best to enjoy it, there were too many faces that she didn’t know, and too few that she did. Lena stayed by her side through the whole affair, and with her help, she managed to make it through to the end, but only barely. It was just past sunset by the time they walked back into the gathering square with N’Mari.

  “Are you leaving now?” the woman asked her. It was more of a statement than a real question, and she’d been merciful enough not to ask them to spend the night.

  “Yes,” Kaly replied. “I have one more thing to do and then we’re taking the shuttle back.”

  N’Mari nodded slowly in understanding. “I’m glad that you came, Kaly” the teacher said. “Your mothers would have wanted that. I know that wherever they are now, they’re proud of you.”

  Kaly gave the woman another hug.

  “Bian gà, Kaly,” N’Mari said. “Think of us from time to time, won’t you?” They both knew that this was the last time that they would ever see one another again.

  “I will,” Kaly promised her. The old woman gave her another sad smile, and then turned away and walked back across the square.

  Kaly watched her until she had disappeared inside the living center, and then picked up her kit bag and started back down the road. Lena stayed beside her, saying nothing.

  When they reached the memorial park again, Kaly set her bag down and walked out to the widow’s stone. She touched its cool surface, feeling the names carved into its face with her fingertips. The failing light made it impossible for her to read them, but she didn’t need to.

  She already knew their names; they were her mothers, her aunts, and all of her friends. Everyone.

  At last, when she was ready, she stepped back and rejoined her companion. They walked together towards the fading glow on the horizon, and the shuttle that would take them away from Persephone, but not its ghosts. Those would stay with Kaly wherever she went.

  ***

  They spent the night together in a private cabin aboard the supply ship, the CSS Sacajawea, which had come to the Demeter System as part of its normal delivery route. They’d been able to afford the berth thanks to the generous discounts that private businesses gave to military personnel, especially in the light of the raid on Persephone. In the morning, they were scheduled to catch another connection and meet their platoon-mates on the water-world of Tethys. There, they would finish out their leave at one of its many resorts.

  Lying in her bunk, despair robbed Kaly of any joy that she might have felt. She knew that visiting Persephone had been the right thing to do, but as she tried to sleep, she could see the widow’s stone in her mind, and then the faces of everyone that had died. They passed by in silent review, and the tears that she had been suppressing for so long finally arrived. She wanted to resist them, to dam up everything inside of herself behind a wall of denial just like she had been since the night of the attack, but she no longer possessed the strength.

  Her only option was to surrender, and at last, she let the pain flow out of her in long gasping sobs. As the tears flowed freely down her face, her anguish felt so deep and so powerful that it seemed as if she would never be able to stop weeping. And for one terrified instant, she even wondered if her grief would manage to drive her insane.

  Sensing the crisis, Lena came over to her. Kaly barely felt her as she lay down on the bed and wrapped her arms around her.

  Finally, the pain subsided, and Kaly was able to look up at her, her eyes raw with sorrow. “I’m glad you came with me,” she stammered. “Thank you, Lena.”

  “That’s what battle sisters are for,” Lena answered tenderly, “We take care of each other.”

  Kaly gave her a weak smile, and they looked into each other’s eyes. Then impulsively, she suddenly raised herself up and kissed Lena on the lips.

  Lena blinked. For a long moment, her expression was thoughtful, as if she were carefully evaluating what had just happened. Then her features softened, and she leaned in and returned the kiss, long and deeply.

  CHAPTER 16

  Abbey of New Bethlehem, Maristown, New Covenant, Bethlehem System, Telesalla Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1043.03|14|01:68:33

  The Grand Abbess of the Abbey of New Bethlehem awoke with a start. The com light was blinking at the other corner of her bedroom. Rising reluctantly, she gathered her nightgown around her and accessed the time on her psiever. It was 01:68.

  “This had better be important,” she muttered to herself. Morning prayers were only two hours away, and at her age sleep was hard enough to come by as it was.

  “Connect,” she said wearily. The com came alive, filling the room with light. The image of Sister-Professor Tara n’Amela, head of the Order’s ultra-secret Project Advent appeared. From the woman’s expression, the Abbess could tell that she was very excited.

  “Sister-Professor?” she asked, “What brings you to call on me at such an ungodly hour? Is something wrong?”

  “Wrong, Grand Abbess?” the woman replied, “No, by Jesu nothing is wrong! It’s quite the opposite. I don’t mean to seem boastful, but I almost can’t believe what I have to tell you.”

  “Well? Out with it! I’m an old woman and it’s late,” the Abbess demanded.

  “It’s that material we received from our missionary, Jon,” the Sister-Professor explained. “We’ve been working with it ever since we received it. He told us that the sample contained some interesting anomalies. We tested it against our present matrices and…”

  “And what, Professor? Keep it simple, please. I am just a humble Sister with little knowledge of the sciences.”

  “It did have some interesting properties,” the scientist responded breathlessly. “Some very interesting ones. I checked and rechecked our computer growth simulations, and what we have, if we go ahead with implantation and germination, may be the answer to all our prayers and hard work.’

  “I don’t know how the woman’s DNA was altered or why, but we’re looking at far more than just an anomaly, or even another series of advances in the next generation of neomen. Far, far more. Please, forgive me, but my head is spinning with the implications.”

  “What exactly are you trying to tell me, Professor?” the Grand Abbess asked.

  “That after all these generations of neomen, that the One, that He will be the next generation to be born!” the scientist answered.

  “That’s a rather grand statement, Sister-Professor!” the Abbess retorted in disbelief. She was beginning to wonder if the woman was getting enough sleep herself. She had been working long hours lately.

  “Yes, yes Grand Abbess, I realize that,” the professor responded, “and before I called you, I had Sister-Professor t’Janyya check the growth simulations with the new strain factored in, and she supports my findings. The figures are correct.”

  “I see,” the Abbess replied carefully. “I will have my ‘car brought around. Expect me in an hour. In the meantime, speak to no one else about this.” She cut the connection.

  Could it be? she wondered. Could the One be ready to come among His people now?

  It was something that she would have to look into with great care. Over the four hundred odd years that the Marionite Order had been involved in Project Advent, there had been many false alarms, each of which had seriously undermined the confidence of the Faithful. She was not about to overexcite her flock needlessly.

  But if it were true, were they ready? Was she? The Abbess let that thought go and quickly dressed.

  An hour later, she was seated in the Office of Sister-Professor n’Amela, enjoying a cup of tea that one of the woman’s acolytes had brought for her. After the long trip to the laboratory by hovercar it lent warmth to her aged bones, and she sipped at it gratefully.

  “If you would direct your attention to the holojector,” the Sister-Professor began. An image of a neoman appeared, with a set of statistics that included intelligence factors, projected longevity, psi ratings
and a host of other important-looking data whose meaning completely eluded the Abbess.

  The Sister-Professor then launched into a short lecture on normal levels of growth and performance, and went on to explain what had been previously expected in terms of improvements in the next generation of neomen. It was all quite abstract, but the Abbess smiled and made certain to nod at what she thought were the right moments.

  She remained unconvinced however. So far, nothing that the woman was telling her justified her excitement in any way.

  Then the Sister-Professor switched to another holo. It depicted a member of the Adam 16 generation of neomen. There were only a handful of them in existence, and few outside of Project Advent itself even knew that they existed.

  Instead of the hard angular lines and overdeveloped muscles commonly associated with neomen, the A-16’s were a radical step forwards. Their bodies had soft, feminine curves, a more delicate bone structure, and ample breasts that would have been the envy of any true woman. Their genitalia however, left no doubt whatsoever about their true sex.

  They had been made this way on purpose; the genetic engineers working for the Order had long understood that the only acceptable form that a Savior could take was one that would appeal physically to the Sisterhood at large. The A-16’s were their solution.

  But this still didn’t explain the reason for this late night meeting, and the Abbess’s patience was nearly exhausted. She was just about to demand that the Sister-Professor get to the point, when a new holo appeared.

  For a moment, the Abbess thought that she was looking at another A-16. To be sure, he was an extremely handsome specimen, far lovelier and more perfectly formed than any other A-16’s that she was familiar with, but still nothing worth being woken up for.

  Then she saw his designation. He wasn’t an A-16. He was a 17—a generation that was still only a concept. His figures were also on display, right alongside the normal parameters for A-16’s.

  The difference between them was astronomical. Even as untrained as she was, she could see that in every respect, this neoman was vastly superior to anything the Project had ever created.

  It was his eyes that captivated her the most. They were a pure, piercing blue that radiated a power that she had only dreamed of experiencing in her most fervent prayers. The Sister-Professor had not been boasting after all, she realized.

  It is Him! she thought. He has come unto us at last.

  “You see it too, don’t you?” the Sister-Professor asked her. “Your Grace, his projected psi abilities are off the charts, his estimated IQ is over 200 and there is more. So much more. He is beyond anything that we had projected for another ten generations at least. It has to be Him. I don’t know by what grace this good fortune has occurred, but He is the One!”

  Still entranced, the Abbess nodded absently and continued to stare at the image hovering in the air before her. For decades, she had worked and prayed that the Marionite Order would someday achieve its goal and resurrect the Savior. She had never been prideful enough to think that she would see it in her lifetime however, and yet, she was certain that this was exactly what she was looking at. The reality of it left her awestruck.

  “Shall we go ahead with implantation?” the Sister-Professor asked eagerly. “We have a number of suitable host-candidates who are ready to serve the Church as mothers.”

  “No,” the Grand Abbess replied, coming out of her reverie at last. “Not yet. I want these figures checked again, Sister-Professor, and by an independent work group.”

  “But, Your Grace--” The woman looked utterly crushed.

  “If it is Him,” the Abbess told her, “then we are obligated to proceed with due reverence and even greater care. Rest assured, Sister-Professor n’Amela, that if the examination of your projections does not reveal any hidden genetic defects, this neoman will be implanted and born to the world. I promise you that.’

  “But,” she added, holding up a warning finger, “even then, he will still have to be evaluated by the Church’s Auditor General for the Signs. If they are witnessed, and the Council of Bishops and the Pope agree with the findings, then and only then will an announcement be made to the Faithful.”

  The Sister-Professor knelt down before her superior. There was a noticeable sag in her shoulders. “Yes, Your Grace. I see your wisdom. I…am simply tired.”

  The Abbess put her hands on the woman’s head. ”You have done well, Sister-Professor, and the Church is eternally grateful, but now the real work begins. If you are right, then the wait will be well worth it. Let us give our thanks together to Jesu and Mari in prayer and fortify ourselves for this great labor.”

  Tethys /In-Transit/USSNS Pallas Athena, Calandra, Miralindra System, Sagana Territory, United Sisterhood of Suns 1043.03|19|05:67:29

  After Basic and her visit to Persephone, Tethys was exactly the vacation Kaly had needed to help herself heal. They had met up with Enggredsdaater and Bel Anny at Oceana, a resort town known for its beaches, and its beautiful weather. Thanks again to the discounts offered to servicewomen, they’d stayed together at the Wavebreaker, one of the finer resort hotels on the Blue Coast. The remainder of their leave had been a wonderful blur of alcohol, good food, sand, sun and sex. But as with all such things, the day finally arrived for them to leave Tethys, and report in to their new units.

  The 115th was in Sagana with the Pallas Athena at the time, and after a tearful goodbye to their two friends, Kaly and Lena made their way to the distant territory through a combination of civilian and military transports.

  Neither of them knew about the events in HSL-48 2124A, and several days of unexplained delay elapsed before the Athena finally made port. And in true Marine fashion, Kaly and Lena were given notice at the last nanosecond to report upside immediately with their gear, and just managed to hitch a ride aboard a Navy shuttle crammed with supplies.

  When the shuttle docked, the pair followed the freight-loaders into one of the docking tubes, kit bags in hand and packs on their backs, not quite certain what to do next. Instead of a single Marine standing post to verify their orders, there was a squad of military policewomen stopping everyone and subjecting all the freight to scans and hands-on inspections.

  Although their uniforms and gear made it patently obvious who they were, they were still required to present their IDs, and have them verified before they were allowed to pass through the checkpoint. When they finally made their way past the welcome sign into the ship itself, Lena glanced back at Kaly questioningly. She was just as puzzled though, and could only shrug.

  Fortunately, a little further on, they encountered another Marine who was friendlier than the MP’s, and she summoned someone for them to report to. This proved to be none other than Corporal n’Valri.

  “Well, well,” the woman said putting her hands on her hips, “Look who’s back, and if she isn’t a full-fledged goddess damned ground-pounder! I guess that Grey Book that I loaned you came in handy.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Corporal,” Kaly said, grinning. Goddess, she thought, talk about coming full circle.

  She indicated Lena. “This is my battle sister. We’re here to report for duty with the 115th.”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place, Marines,” N’Valri replied. “It just so happens that the 115th is at home right now. Come on, I’ll get you to the CO.”

  As N’Valri led the way, Kaly smiled to herself. This time the pace that the Corporal set was much more leisurely than the first time that she’d been aboard. Apparently, running a new hatchie through the maze of passages at full thrust was part of the fun. Not so with real Marines.

  “So, what’s with all the security?” she finally asked her.

  “Oh, some kind of trouble with the locals,” N’Valri said casually. “It gives the MP’s something to do, I guess. By the way, you want another leg up?”

  “Sure,” Kaly replied. “The last one you gave me went a long ways.”

  “Okay,” N’Valri said, “Two things. On
e; watch out for Troop Leader da’Saana. She’s a hard nose, and if you get on her bad side, you’re done. Two; no hazing the neoman. The Corps has sent the word down from on high that he’s to be left alone.”

  “The neoman? What neoman?” Kaly inquired.

  “I guess that you two didn’t hear about him while you were in Basic,” the Corporal replied. “The courts decided to let one of them join the unit. He’s bunked by himself, and we’ve been using him on all sorts of special details.’

  “The other troopers gave him a pretty hard time at first, and then Command got involved. Now, he’s hands-off, but you probably won’t have to deal with him. He keeps pretty much to himself when he’s not on a detail. ‘Just let him be’ is the rule. So, stay professional and leave him alone.”

  “Sure thing,” Kaly agreed. She was just fine with that. She didn’t have any feelings about neomen one way or the other, and she didn’t think that Lena cared either, but neither of them wanted to get themselves involved in anything that would make them stand out. That was always a recipe for trouble.

  By this point they had reached Troop Leader da’Saana’s small office. She was away on a detail, but her assistant, Corporal n’Darei was at her desk. N’Darei called up their files at her data terminal.

  “A Platoon Leader, eh? Not bad, N’Deena. And N’Gari, I see you also got good marks. Welcome to Hekate’s Hounds, Ladies.’

  “You’ll be replacing two troopers that transferred out to another unit. We’re in the middle of our patrol, so things will be a bit hectic, and you’ll both have to hit the ground running, but I imagine you’re used to that by now. Did you know that I had the same DI’s that you did? Tell me; is N’Vera still the same armor-plated bitch she used to be?”

  Kaly noticed the Eye of the Goddess pin on the Corporal’s tunic, and nodded. “Well, she was a bit of a challenge,” she answered carefully.