Agents of the Demiurge (3 page)

Hess managed to keep his face impassive. The
lead Church man studied the woman with his unblinking gaze. “What
is your name?”

“Theora Winfield. And you, Investigator?”

“Investigator Monterey.”

“Pleased to meet you, Investigator.”

He swiveled back to Hess, steely eyes locked
onto his target. “You have been living in this community for seven
years. Why haven't you joined the congregation?”

Hess spun the story the woman had started,
hoping he wouldn't say anything to contradict her memory. “I
intended to join. But I've been busy with work. It's like Theora
said – I find a lot of dignity in my work.” The significance of
dignity was lost on him, so he decided not to elaborate further on
that topic. “I became Director of Logistics this past year. That is
a huge achievement for someone my age. TFK Motors is the third
largest employer in the city, you know.”

The man's eyes shifted to the door behind
Hess. A search of the house would reveal hastily packed luggage,
which would undoubtedly take this conversation in a less friendly
direction. Though if they did go inside, he could kill them without
the neighbors witnessing the fact. He might get a fifteen minute
head start.

Theora spoke again, bringing everyone's
attention back to her. “I can't believe you forgot about our date,
Jed! You promised to meet me at the community center at four sharp.
I showed up five minutes early and saw you drive past like a
maniac. I know you obsess about your job, but this was supposed to
be a big date.”

Something in her expression rang false. There
was a hint too much tightness around the eyes. Combined with the
tilt to her head, it suggested she was sending him a subtle message
of some sort. Whatever it was, Hess didn't get it. Hopefully
Theora's words about him being a loyal citizen were accurate. With
all the holes in his memory this Iteration, Hess couldn't assume
anything.

He put on his most convincing wince. “I
didn't forget. Honest, Theora. Things were happening at work and I
stayed a little later than I intended.”

“Your date has been delayed,” Inspector
Monterey said.

Theora sighed. “I understand, Inspector. We
probably missed our match with the Keegers already.”

The Inspector blinked. “Are you acquainted
with the Keeger family?”

“Yes. Never met the judge, but the kids are
into broom hockey.”

“So I hear,” the Inspector said. “Mr. Orlin,
it is somewhat suspicious we don't see you at Church meetings. How
about you make yourself less suspicious in the future?”

“I will, Inspector,” Hess said.

“Have a good day, then.” The four Church men
went to their SUV's, climbed inside, and drove away.

Theora folded her arms across her chest and
fixed him with a look. “Well?” she asked.

“Well what?”

“Seriously?”

Hess tried to think of something to say, but
he didn't have any memories of a relationship with this woman to
guide him. As far as he recalled, they had never spoken. “I'm not
sure what you want me to say.”

“Maybe you should thank me for intervening
before you could make a bigger mess of the situation.” In addition
to her voluptuous figure, Theora was a beautiful woman, with deep
black skin and kinky hair dangling halfway to her shoulders. Her
chocolate eyes were calculating and critical above pouty lips.
Something in the way she held herself . . . .

Elza glared at him. “Do you recognize me
now?”

He cleared his throat. “Of course. I was . .
. preoccupied before.”

“That would be a polite way to put it.
Unfortunately, I'm not feeling particularly polite at the
moment.”

Hess glanced at the street. “What do you know
of the Church?”

“Only what I've read in the past two hours.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Which no doubt makes me the expert here. If, on
the other hand, instead of carefully researching the gaps in my
knowledge, I had decided to gallivant around and act suspicious,
then I would be as ignorant as you.”

“I think I deserve a pass on this one,
considering the woman I was
appreciating
was you.”

“I don't care how attractive you find the
female figure. There is an appropriate time and place to appreciate
it. The middle of an investigation was not an appropriate time.
You're not an animal, Hess. You're not even a person. You're an
Observer. There is no excuse for your failure to
compartmentalize.”

Hess folded his arms. “Is this really about
me looking at you? Or is something else bothering you?”

“Knowledge was withheld from us, Hess. That
bothers me. You managed to draw the Church to you within hours of
this world's start. That bothers me. You nearly proclaimed yourself
an Agent of the Demiurge by attacking representatives of the Church
of Opposition. That bothers me. The fact that you can't take your
eyes off my chest is the tip of a very large iceberg.”

“Sorry,” he said. “But you know that when I
feel threatened, I act.”

She shook her head. “What if I hadn't been
walking to the Church building when you flew past? What if I hadn't
recognized your driving style? You would be public enemy number one
right now. Every scion of a perverse religion would be hunting you
down.”

“It's fine, Elza. No one is hunting me. We're
together and ready to handle whatever mischief this world can throw
at us.” He smiled. “The Creator actually set us up on a date. I
don't think we've ever started out in the same city, let alone on
the same block.”

Elza didn't relent her steely gaze. “The
Creator also edited important facts out of our memories.”

“He's definitely giving us mixed signals this
Iteration.”

She folded her arms.

“You can relax now,” he said softly. “This is
a new world. One without stockpiles of nukes poised to bring about
Hell on Earth. I'm sure we'll see the people ruin their lives in
countless ways, but we don't have to worry about witnessing that
kind of misery again. If the Creator values my opinion, there will
never be another world with the knowledge to crack an atom.”

Elza stared at him a moment, face blank,
before turning away. “We need to research the Church in detail
before tomorrow.”

“Any particular reason for the deadline?”

“Yes. We're going to Church.”

The Church of
Opposition embraced the shameful truth at the heart of the pathetic
creatures with a blunt aplomb he appreciated. Erik sauntered
towards the local worship center, noting the clean lines and arches
of the classical architecture on display. They took pride in their
little rebellion.

His current body was that of a muscular,
middle-aged man with a history of tanning his pale skin to pass as
one of the upper class. He always appreciated a strong body, though
he sometimes missed the challenge of making do with a less capable
form. Also, people tended to suspect big men when people started to
disappear.

Erik sauntered into the Church like he owned
the building. The place of non-worship looked like the bastard
offspring of temple and office space. Entering through the front
door brought him face to face with a sour receptionist. To her left
were doors leading to public restrooms and the gathering hall. To
her right was a hall leading to the offices of the various Church
officials.

“Can I help you?”

He leaned against the counter and glanced at
the computer screen. The card game there looked to be going poorly,
which no doubt fueled her disagreeable attitude. “I would like to
report suspicious persons.”

The receptionist sat up, bringing her hands
together in a silent clap. “I'll have to ask a few questions first.
People are always filing false reports on neighbors they don't
like.”

“Certainly,” Erik said. “I trust the Church
knows best how to handle this kind of situation.”

She smiled, which transformed her plain
features in an unflattering manner. No doubt she subscribed to the
fallacy that everyone looked better with the corners of their
mouths turned up. “First question. How do you know the party in
question?”

“They are my mother and father,” he said.

The receptionist blinked. “Your parents?”

“That's right. Though of course I will disown
them if the Church investigation confirms my suspicions.”

“Question two. Why do you suspect them?”

“Because when I was a child they forbade me
from visiting the Church or reading the Book of Grievances. As an
adult, I decided to explore the religion myself. I've attended a
few gatherings and read the entire Book. Naturally I became
suspicious of my parent's attitude towards the Church. So I set a
test for them. I told them I was planning to join the congregation
to see what their response would be.” He paused dramatically. “And
they tried to forbid it. What possible reason could two people have
to prevent an adult from joining a local congregation?”

The receptionist searched around on her desk
before bringing up a standardized form. She placed it and a pen on
top of the counter. “Question three. Do you have any disagreements
with the suspects we should know about?”

“My relationship with my parents has only
ever had one conflict. They don't want me involved with the
Church.”

The receptionist handed the paperwork to him.
“Please fill this out. I'll let the Investigator know someone is
here for him.”

Erik maintained his charade of righteous
indignation while the receptionist was gone, working on the
assumption that he was under surveillance. He would have to live
the lie from now until he changed identities. The Church was an
instrument perfectly suited to locate and handle a rogue Observer –
no doubt why the Creator had dreamed it up – but it could catch the
wrong prey if he got sloppy.

His parents in this world were private people
with few hobbies outside their home. They avoided the Church due to
an innocent misunderstanding in their youths which would doubtless
be on file somewhere. That, combined with testimony from their son,
anecdotes from acquaintances eager for a few moments in the
limelight, and circumstantial evidence put together by a zealous
investigation team, should be more than enough to convict them of
the crime of worshiping.

The receptionist returned to take the
paperwork, then disappeared again. Erik did his best to look
conflicted, in case there were cameras watching him. Half an hour
passed before the Investigator came to collect Erik and bring him
into an impressive office where the man slowly read through the
papers.

“You love your parents?”

Erik had to think about that one. How would
one of these pathetic creatures react to that question? A normal
person would be angry at the betrayal. But probably not enough to
write a parent out of their life. Indecision would be best. “I'm
still working that out. They're my parents, but now I have to
question everything.”

The investigator grunted. “How do I know
you're not lying?”

“I memorized the Book of Grievances. Do you
think I did that in a single night?” He had, actually. “My parents
need to explain why they don't support the Opposition. Maybe they
are just Atheists.”

“
Just
Atheists?”

“Better than being Worshipers. Or Agents.
Chapter two, paragraph twelve: 'The Opposition has four enemies.
First are the Apathetic, those who accept the Mission but lack
zeal. Inspire them through exhortation or communal pressure or
fear. Second are the Atheists, those who refuse to believe the
Demiurge exists. Force their conversion at all costs. Third are the
Worshipers, those who serve the Demiurge. Kill them. Fourth are the
Agents of the Demiurge. They are the greatest enemy of the
Opposition. Torture them day and night for the crime of serving the
source of evil.'”

The Investigator smirked. “Are you trying to
impress me? Every twelve-year-old can quote that passage.”

“Name another as a test.”

“Chapter seven, paragraph four. A personal
favorite.”

His perfect memory supplied the exact words,
but Erik thought that level of aptitude might be a bit suspicious.
“Paragraph four? Let me think a minute. That whole chapter is about
personal conduct. Paragraph two covers proper grooming. Three is
about clothes. So four is the one about proper language. 'Let the
words you speak convey your dignity. Coarse language is the
recourse of a weak and low mind. Members of the Opposition aspire
to be greater than our default nature.'”

The Investigator sat back in his chair.
“Close. It actually starts with 'Let every word.' But not
terrible.”

“I would like to join your congregation this
week.”

“Talk to the Deacon. She handles the mundane
work of the parish.”

Erik wanted to ask to join the investigation
team, but it was too soon for that. It would look suspicious. No.
First his parents would be found guilty. He would join the
congregation. Over a few months, he would gain respect here as a
scholar of the Book. Then he would ask to be a deputy
investigator.

From there, he could work his way up the
hierarchy of the Church's militant arm. Before long, Erik would be
in the perfect spot to resume his search for Hess and Elza. Last
Iteration, it had taken five years and a careless stunt for him to
find Hess.

Then the Creator ended that world before Erik
had the chance to do more than warm Hess up. The timing had seemed
ominous. But then came the most wonderful surprise. A Church
organization existed that was perfectly designed to aid him in
apprehending and punishing Hess. It was as if the Creator wanted to
help him. Even better, the Church was a surprise. Erik's identity,
Fran Wilson, had no memory of it. Presumably the same was true of
Hess.

Erik wiped the smile from his face. He wasn't
supposed to be happy. He was, after all, setting his parents up to
die horrible deaths.