Forced Conversion

by Donald J. Bingle

  One, two, three, four. One, two, three . . .

  The front wheel stopped abruptly and Kelly was thrown over the handlebars into the air and down the dark, ash-covered slope.

  Kelly was too dazed, too uncomprehending to even wave her arms in terror as she found herself flying toward Sanctuary. But, whether from discipline or mere muscle-memory, her legs still pedaled as she flew forward.

  One, two, three, four. One, two.

  The first sanctuary ended just as had the first marathon.

  * * * * *

  General Antonio Fontana stared at the ancient, torn roadmap covered with scribblings in disbelief, his mind reeling in shock from the revelations it contained.

  Lieutenant Maria Casini was alive.

  She had killed all but one of the ConFoes that were responsible for the fire that devastated Sanctuary Vale.

  The remaining ConFoe had acted with her in defeating the last of those killed and she was now traveling with him to an unknown destination.

  Scout Kelly Joy Lanigan had received clues and communications from the Lieutenant and ridden from Sanctuary to Golden to Larkspur to Sanctuary in forty-eight hours. She had supplemented the Lieutenant’s missive with her own explanation of events, apparently scrawled hastily in her own blood. But, Lanigan now lay dead, her head caved in by the rocky outcroppings of Sanctuary itself and her soul gathered to the ultimate sanctuary of God’s bosom.

  Denver was vacant, irradiated by ConFoe treachery, according to Lieutenant Casini.

  Yucca Mountain had been emptied of its radioactive waste and now stood cool and silent.

  And, of course, during the Lieutenant’s absence, the Believers had decided to implement the Plan and march to the final battle, far from this place. But was it the right place?

  Fontana blinked twice slowly, then suddenly handed the Lieutenant’s map to his aide for further study and hastily opened up a map of his own displaying U.S. rail lines.

  God had given him his sign.

  Chapter 19

  Only after Ali dashed into the quarters and flipped off the lights was Derek able to take a breath.

  “Are you crazy, turning on floodlights? You could see that for miles!” Derek could breathe again, but he was obviously still somewhat excited.

  Hank looked at the two newcomers with detached bemusement. He and Ali had avoided both the mals and the ConFoes for years, simply by holing up in a place with an adequate food supply (it had been stocked as a fallout shelter back in the days when it was mandatory for every county to have one) and good locks. Of course, it helped that there was nothing here that anyone but scientists would care about and that their own scientific habits allowed them to work easily at night, when they would be less noticeable—if they didn’t turn on the lights.

  “Actually,” Hank deadpanned, “we depend on the fact that electromagnetic radiation, within and without the visible spectrum, travels quite a ways. Besides, I may be crazy, but I personally don’t accuse someone else of insanity before I’m properly introduced.” He held out a hand from his comfortable position in the lawn chair. “My name is Hank.”

  As Derek took his right hand, Hank waggled the thumb of his opposite hand in Ali’s direction. “This here is my assistant and good friend, Ali.”

  Ali stepped forward and nodded to both of the newcomers in turn, before also extending his hand in greeting. “We are very pleased to meet your acquaintance. Please do understand that no insanity or hostility is involved in our somewhat dramatic invitation to visit us. We were simply desirous of meeting . . . fellow inhabitants of this area . . . who had an available source of transportation.” Ali smiled broadly, his teeth white against his dark complexion.

  The smile was genuine, as evidenced by the relaxed crinkles around Ali’s eyes as he grinned, but Derek showed a flicker of apprehension at the reference to the truck. He shook both hands offered to him, before speaking.

  “My name is Derek, Derek Williger. This here is Maria.”

  Maria stepped forward and lightly grasped hands with each in turn.

  “The truck is . . . Maria’s,” continued Derek warily. “She’s just dropping me off . . . in Arizona . . . then going about her way.”

  Hank leaned further back in his lawn chair, subconsciously working to reduce any threat his body language might convey to the tense young man standing before them. “Ali and me, well, I bet you already figured out that we’re not some kind of gangbangers. Nothing like that at all, in fact. We’re rational people, scientific people. Our work here,” he gestured all around the area at the giant, silent dishes extending into the distance, “is done. We were just hopeful we might be able to barter or beg a ride elsewhere.”

  Ali chimed in. “It is a very hot, thirsty walk to anyplace from here. Transportation would be of great assistance.”

  Maria started to speak, but Derek cut her off. “What kind of work are you involved in?” he said to Hank, ignoring Ali in a way that Hank knew Ali had not experienced for a long, long time.

  The slight to Ali put Hank off a bit, but he was not an excitable man by nature and if subtle ethnic prejudice was the worst they had to endure to secure transport, he would live with it. He knew that Ali, always polite, would also endure. “My colleague, Ali, and I are astronomers.” He paused and looked straight at Derek. “We study stars.”

  Now it was apparently Derek’s turn to be put off. “I know what an astronomer is.”

  Hank shrugged. “Education’s not what it used to be. Being a dumb son-of-a-bitch doesn’t matter much in the virtual worlds or in what’s left of this one.” He sat forward a bit in his lawn chair. “These dishes here, they used to be used to gather pretty extensive information about stars and galaxies and black holes—all that sophisticated, interesting shit—back in the day.”

  “So, you study far-away galaxies?” asked Maria.

  Ali replied. “No, no. Not anymore. It would be very difficult for the two of us to conduct any meaningful research or analysis of that nature given our resources and our manpower. Alignment and maintenance must be very precise on the most distant observations. Several technicians would be needed for gain compensation filtering alone . . .”

  Hank interrupted to bring the discussion back to the elementary level. “Basically, we just listen now to see if anyone out there . . .” he looked up at the myriad stars above, “. . . is trying to signal us.”

  “You mean like SETI?” asked Maria.

  “Who?” queried Derek in bewilderment.

  “SETI, the search for extra-terrestrial intelligence,” replied Maria matter-of-factly. She had read something about it long ago.

  “You are, of course, quite right,” responded Ali with some glee. “The equipment here was not designed for such purpose and, despite some fictional accounts to the contrary in popular media, this place was not widely used for such purpose during SETI’s most intensive years, but the array can be so used and we have done so. It was Hank’s idea originally to do so.”

  “Yeah, well, almost five years of looking since we arrived and we didn’t find a damn thing,” interposed Hank, laconically.

  It seemed Derek could not shake his lingering suspicions. “I thought you said your work was done. Does that mean you’ve proven nobody’s out there? How do you prove a negative?”

  Ali jumped to reply. “You are quite right that it is impossible to prove that there is no intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. We have merely been unable to discern any patterns in the electromagnetic radiation emanating from likely candidates which would prove that those star systems are inhabited by such creatures.”

  Hank decided to cut to the core of the issue. “Stuff keeps breaking that we can’t fix. A bunch of the dishes don’t track in parallel anymore. We tried to reconfigure to use a smaller array, but the tractor mechanisms are pretty bulky. Sand gets into everything hereabouts. We had another one freeze up a couple days ago. It was kinda the last straw. We can’t get any more useful information, so we memorialized our res
earch and are hanging up the towel.”

  “It is very disappointing,” observed Ali sullenly.

  Maria looked at the now-purposeless scientists. “Even though I don’t believe there is anything out there for you to find, I am sorry that your efforts proved fruitless.”

  “Yeah,” muttered Derek without much conviction, “we’re . . . uh . . . sorry . . . er . . . for your loss.”

  “It is not your fault,” Ali stated simply.

  Hank turned toward Maria, one eyebrow arched. “What makes you think that there’s nothing out there to find?” His tone was light, but there was an edge to the question.

  Maria looked surprised by the question and a bit flummoxed. “I . . . er . . . well, because if there was someone out there, God would have told us about it.” Her voice gained confidence as she spoke. “We’re created in his image and it doesn’t say in the Bible he created anybody else.”

  “Hell, God didn’t tell us about bacteria or viruses or other galaxies or the atom, but they all exist. We just had to look to find them.”

  Maria didn’t really appear offended—she probably had too logical of a mind for that—but Hank noted she was taken aback at the response. The religious types never really rationally discussed these things, he was sure.. She gave the type of response he expected. “But, those things were made for us—they were necessary for our lives to work correctly, so He created them.”

  “Why not create others like us elsewhere?” He waved one hand in a broad, lazy circle above his head. “As they always said, otherwise it’s a heckuva waste of space.”

  There was no hesitation this time; this one was simple. “God has us to worship Him and to extend His mercy to. Scientists like simple answers. Why would He need anyone else?”

  Hank smiled and shook his head. “Look, Maria, I don’t want to offend nobody, but why limit God’s mercy . . . or his ego.” That last slipped out before he had really thought it through. He didn’t want to push too hard; they still wanted a ride. But it always perturbed him that the religious-types explained everything by saying God wanted it that way.

  Ali interjected in a transparent effort to assuage any offense. “I think what Hank is saying is that the things that exist in the universe which make life possible for us would make life possible in many, many other places. It is a design, if you will, that would efficiently allow life to develop in many places in many ways. The universe is so infinite that it seems improbable that life and intelligence would not develop in other places in a manner similar to how it developed here. The math is undeniable.”

  “Hold on there,” interrupted Hank with a brief wave of his hand. “My fault for starting it, but I’m going to finish it. Seems a mite impolite to lead off a conversation with heavy stuff like religion and theories of how the universe works and such. Why not work our way back to simpler stuff?” Hank looked at Ali and Ali nodded minutely.

  “Fine,” said Maria. “You said earlier you wanted transportation, but you never said where to. Where are you headed?”

  Hank shook his head wearily. “Outta one fryin’ pan, into another.” He looked from Maria to Derek and back again, subconsciously moving his arms away from his body slightly and opening his palms to show they were empty. “Now, I don’t want anyone to get excited or nothing, seeing how you are . . . shall we say . . . unofficial travelers in these parts . . . and you,” he said, nodding toward Maria, “are probably dead-set against the whole notion, theologically speaking, but, well, we want to go someplace where we can turn ourselves in to the Conversion Forces.”

  * * * * *

  Maria was startled. Sure, plenty of people—almost everybody who was law-abiding and had no theological concerns—had turned themselves in for mandatory conversion back in the early days, but no one did it now. Few mals even allowed themselves to be converted when captured, unless they were near death. You didn’t live this long as a mal outside the law if you believed in the concept at all. Life as a mal was hard; life post-conversion was virtually a walk in the park.

  By his look, Derek definitely shared her shock. “Really?” was all he managed to say in response.

  “Why would you want to be converted?” said Maria simply.

  “Well, darlin’, my whole life has been astronomy, especially the whole SETI thing. I can’t do that any more. I can’t do the science I was trained to do—can’t even really do theoretical stuff anymore. Don’t get me wrong. Ali here, he’s one bright guy and we’ve had plenty of interesting discussions about things theoretical, but we’re about all talked out. I need to go someplace to engage my mind or I’ll end up killing myself.”

  “There are plenty of people . . .” Maria said, glancing furtively at Derek and blushing slightly, “. . . I mean, despite the ConFoe’s efforts, there are still some people to talk to. You don’t have to convert to find company or good conversation.”

  Hank grimaced lightly, turning it into a tight smile. “Meaning no disrespect, Maria, but talking science to a bunch of crazed gangbangers or simple-minded peasants or even to a group of . . . devout . . . fundamentalist Christians, well, it ain’t exactly my idea of a good time. There’s no scientific community anymore. They’re all gone.” Ali nodded silently while Hank continued. “Ali and I chatted about this and he had a good expression for it.”

  Ali responded to the prompt. “I called it a ‘scientific rapture.’”

  “I don’t understand,” said Derek.

  “In Biblical terms,” informed Maria, “the rapture takes place before the end of the world, when God calls all the Believers to Him and they suddenly disappear from this world, leaving the unbelievers and the less devout behind to live in an increasingly hostile world and fight against Satan in the last battle.” She stopped, realizing suddenly how apropos the description of the rapture was to what had taken place in the real world—people leaving while some few were left behind to struggle. It was a particularly strange and somewhat disturbing thought because in the real world it was the non-Believers who had embraced conversion and vanished. The Believers had been left behind. Thus, the analogy made the Believers the ones who had been left behind in God’s call to the faithful.

  “Exactly correct,” said Ali in response to her last words, not her last thoughts, starting to take up the explanation.

  “You’re saying,” interrupted Maria, her concern lacing her voice, “that the virtual worlds are heaven and that my people have rejected the call.”

  Hank came to Ali’s defense. “Actually, Ali there, he was just making an analogy.”

  Maria pursued Hank instead. “So, do you think that the virtual worlds are heaven?”

  Hank screwed up his face and thought a bit. “Hard to say. Harder to know.”

  “If you aren’t sure, why would you ever go?” asked Maria innocently.

  Derek listened for Hank’s answer. Maria had made this point before.

  Hank got up from his chair and ambled back and forth for a minute, his hand rubbing his chin, as he thought about what to say. Finally, he turned toward the group, his head cocked to the left.

  “There’s an old joke. There’s been a big flood and a guy is up on his roof to get away from the raging water. A guy comes by in a canoe and says ‘Git in.’ And the first guy says, ‘No thanks. God will provide.’ The water keeps rising and another feller comes by, this one in a row boat. ‘Climb aboard,’ says this feller, ‘and I’ll take you to safety.’ But the guy on the roof says ‘No thanks. God will provide.’ Later, as the guy is clinging to his chimney, a helicopter comes over and they drop a rope ladder down to him. ‘Grab on,’ the people in the ‘copter say, ‘it’s your last chance.’ But the guy on the roof still refuses and eventually the water gets even higher and he is swept away and drowns. When he gets to heaven, he confronts God and says, ‘I believed in you and you didn’t save me.’ And God says, ‘What d’ya mean? I sent you two boats and a helicopter.’”

  Derek laughed.

  Maria looked at Hank coldly, a foot tapping light
ly on the ground unbidden in aggravation. “Look, ma’am,” said Hank in appeasement. “I don’t mind you believing what you do, believe me. But as far as this world goes, the water’s rising. I had something to do, so I held on, but now that my work here is done, I see no reason not to take the helicopter. It might not be heaven, but it ain’t death.”

  The group stood silently for a moment. Finally, Hank spoke again. “Now that I’ve finished offending you all with my blasphemous beliefs and jokes,” he said lightly with a tone of contrition, “Ali’s analogy was really of a more minor nature.”

  Ali again took his cue to resume his explanation. “The analogy was only to say that conversion has had a rapture-like impact in the scientific community. Many, many of the smartest and brightest either converted voluntarily or quickly succumbed to mandatory conversion. Meaningful research was no longer pursued in the real world once conversion became readily available to solve the practical problems of disease and food production shortages. Funding for basic research dried up completely. The scientists, they have all gone to virtual worlds and we have been left behind.”

  “So, you’re intellectually lonely?” responded Derek. The artificial lightness of his tone suggested to Maria that he was deliberately abandoning the analogy in an effort to ease the tension between her and the scientists.

  “That is precisely the case,” said Ali in confirmation.