DODO
BOOKS
First
published in Great Britain
by Dodo Books 2010
Copyright
© Jane Palmer 2008
This
is a work of fiction and any
resemblance to persons living or dead is
purely coincidental.
The
author asserts the moral right to be identified as
the author of this work.
ISBN
978 1 906442 21 7
All
right reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission
of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition
being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Other
science fiction books by this author
THE
PLANET DWELLER
THE WATCHER
MOVING MOOSEVAN
BABEL’S BASEMENT
THE KYBION
NIGHTINGALE
Fiction
BALD
WENDY
CHAPTER 1
God
came to Auroal to smite the
Devil’s creation.
Skirra
bounced closer to the viewer. ‘What are they chanting now?’
he asked Ansopha who was lounging on a ceiling buttress, exuding indifference
and refusing to translate the droning coming from the artificial planet.
‘This is the chant of cosmic resurrection,’ the voice of Hunder
explained in an unusually patient tone.
Ansopha peered down from its precarious perch. ‘Let me know when
God arrives.’ Then the communicator stretched like a satiated carnivore
and closed its silver eyes.
‘And what will you do if He does?’ demanded Skirra.
‘Emigrate to the furthest reaches of deep space.’
‘Why not, it’s probably where you came from,’ the medical
scientist muttered.
The limb of Auroal could be seen rising impressively from the satellite’s
view port. Skirra and Orphanus, the engineer, were too immersed in the
ceremony taking place on the screen to notice. At the south pole of the
artificial world, species who didn’t share an atom of DNA had gathered
to indulge in an act of archaic and superstitious time wasting.
Hunder’s quantum processor had once computed the likelihood of so
many different species agreeing that they worshipped the same God. Given
the immediacy of communication, cosmic dissemination of ideas, and close
proximity to each other on the space-port, it was inevitable. Lashing
out at each other on such a small world over semantics wouldn’t
have been practical. The bio computer’s circuits silently groaned
as he realised they were on the threshold of a nonsensical episode generated
by the intolerance of consensus while the mysterious Ansopha, who probably
came from a corner of the Universe where deities weren’t permitted,
radiated contempt for the proceedings below.
Having agreed to share God, the inhabitants of Auroal now faced the problem
of what to do when He arrived. Blood sacrifices had gone out of fashion
long before Auroal had been a glimmer in the eye of the ambitious engineer
who had designed the spaceport. Had she been able see what was going on
she would have probably kicked her computer for visualising the concept.
Her world was supposed to be a galactic point of convergence for several
gravity lines, not the gateway to some mythological heaven.
Over generations Auroal’s inhabitants had become jaded. Supplying,
servicing, and organising space traffic from across the Galaxy could be
boring if that was all you and your ancestors had been engaged in. So,
to break the monotony, why not join hands with your neighbours, resurrect
a few cosmic myths and try them on for size?
Hunder was as old as the artificial planet. He had been designed to control
all its systems as well as the gravity lines through which traffic travelled.
Systematically up-dated by the elite technicians of Space Command, he
eventually developed the capacity to program himself. Being a reasoning
bio computer and as a consequence irritable, only to be expected in someone
with his cosmic intellect, Hunder was allowed to have his own way because
the saving on upgrading him was immense. At one time hundreds maintained
the bio computer’s satellite. Now it only needed a skeleton crew,
mainly to keep a mortal eye on Auroal and Hunder’s tantrums. The
atmosphere in the satellite’s cavernous spaces was only intermittently
restored to echo to the footfall of Orphanus as she checked welds and
connections, matters too humdrum for the mighty Hunder to bother with.
The bio computer liked company to reassure him of his superiority, yet
wasn’t so keen on the arguments his existence provoked in lesser
intellects, which included most sentient life. Orphanus was no problem.
The engineer knew her limitations, although he did have to disarm her
when she occasionally threatened to eviscerate an irritating mortal. Skirra
was always too busy with medical research and ministering to the needs
of the many species on Auroal to be bothered about the bio computer’s
ego. Then there was Ansopha, an enigma with no origin, gender, pretence
of social conditioning, or noticeable bodily functions.
Though the subject was never broached, the crew suspected that their communicator
knew more about deities than was healthy for all of them. Ansopha came
from the only species Hunder had been unable to categorise or Skirra make
medical sense of. Polarising molecules in any creature were pretty unusual,
and when that creature used them to become invisible – the only
evidence of its presence a faint, rustling sound - evolution took on a
new meaning.
Skirra knew that there was no point in interrogating Ansopha about its
origins. The medical scientist had even been denied the tissue sample
all crewmembers were obliged to surrender before a term of duty, and chasing
invisible entities with laser scalpels was not in his terms of contract.
The ceremonial chanting on Auroal grew more intense and the illumination
from the massive arena could be seen rising on the planet’s limb.
‘This is giving me a headache,’ moaned Ansopha.
‘Serves you right for being a telepath,’ snapped Orphanus.
She was a Vardel and capable of crushing bones with her thoughts.
Suddenly the chanting congregation below rippled back from the hub of
the ceremony as though God had tossed a thunderbolt into his pool of believers.
Given the different life support systems and body sizes it was a wonder
no one was asphyxiated.
On each narrow layer of the planet the rest of the population sat in their
respective ecosystems, fervently anticipating God’s appearance.
Ansopha also began to wish He would arrive; emotions this intense played
more havoc with its telepathic efficiency than the solar wind could with
electromagnetic frequencies.
‘Something is happening,’ Hunder announced.
‘They’re going home?’ a voice from the ceiling asked
hopefully.
‘There is an unusual blister of energy forming.’
‘How?’ demanded Orphanus. ‘Artificial planets don’t
have volcanoes - at least, this one didn’t the last time I inspected
its core.’
‘The anomaly may have used a gravity line - but I never registered
it.’ Hunder sounded defensive.
‘Well hadn’t you better find out what it is?’
‘Why?’ The bio computer knew what she meant. ‘No, I’m
not going to let you train the satellite’s weapons array on it.
The thing hasn’t made any threatening moves and might take it as
belligerence if it is a sentient being.’
‘Looks like a proto star to me,’ observed Skirra.
Hunder’s circuits crackled at the inanities they had to contend
with. ‘Keep to medicine. If that were a proto star its gravitational
field would have torn us apart by now.’
‘Well Ansopha, is it a sentient being? Can you sense anything at
all?’
The communicator concentrated. ‘Only the telepathic equivalent of
a bad smell.’
The medical scientist wasn’t impressed with the diagnosis. ‘What
are you talking about?’
‘There is something unpleasantly, voraciously... hungry, in its
aura.’
Skirra visualised the casualties he would have to deal with if there was
an explosion in the middle of a congregation containing ten percent of
the planet’s population. ‘But what is it for pity’s
sake? Hunder, you should send out a probe.’
‘It wouldn’t be politic.’
Orphanus noticed a change in the image on the screen. ‘Closer, Hunder.
Zoom in closer.’
The bio computer did as she said. The blister of energy had become a pulsating
mound of plasma.
The huge gathering on Auroal milled about uneasily; fear mixed with the
adulation, they backed away.
Ansopha peered down with its glinting gaze, unable to believe the thoughts
radiating up from the planet’s pole. ‘Well, well, well,’
it announced like a carnivore spying a lunch of poisonous reptile. ‘We’re
having a manifestation.’
Orphanus’ approach was more warlike. ‘A what?’
‘Believe it or not, God has arrived.’
Skirra bounced too high in excitement and collided with the communications
buttress.
‘Don’t damage the sensors,’ warned Ansopha.
‘Just tell us it’s someone’s idea of a practical joke,’
demanded Orphanus. She didn’t relish the idea of meeting anyone’s
maker, especially the one of any species her ancestors had managed to
wipe out.
The manifestation on Auroal continued to grow. A rainbow knife of illumination
cut through the velvet sky. Believers wailed in ecstasy and waverers were
convinced. Even Hunder’s many monitors momentarily blinked. The
only creature not impressed by the aura of God’s ego continued to
limply straddle the ceiling buttress. It loured down with silver eyes
and analysed the bizarre thought rhythms of the apparition taking form
on the planet below. Of all the species witnessing this, was Ansopha the
only one registering the true nature of the entity? Had they switched
off their common sense for fear of offending God’s manifestation?
The communicator said nothing and, however curious Skirra may have been,
even he would think twice before chasing the Supreme Being for a tissue
sample.
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