Artificial Absolutes (Jane Colt Book 1) (3 page)

Jane accidentally arrived an hour before the open rehearsal and awkwardly waited by the pews. She heard a friendly voice.

“Hi there. Are you lost?”

A young man walked toward her. The white light of the sun streamed in from the large window at the back and almost silhouetted him, forming something of a halo. He was a bit taller than Jane, but not that tall by guy standards.

Jane noticed his Via pendant and hoped it was a passing greeting. She was terrible with people she disagreed with. “I’m waiting for the choir rehearsal.”

“They’ll be here in about an hour. You’re not Via, are you?”

“No, but the choir’s secular, right?”

“It is. I’m Adam, by the way. I’m a first-year at the seminary.”

Adam stopped in front of her. Jane was finally able to make out the details of his appearance. The halo effect was gone, yet there was still something angelic about his boyish face, light brown hair, and gentle eyes, which were a bright shade of green, reminiscent of peridot.

Pretty boy. Maybe even prettier than me… Nah, I’m still prettier.

Jane accepted the hand he extended. “I’m Jane. So…” She let go of his hand and flipped through her mind for topics of conversation, but she had nothing to say to the religious do-gooder.
Nothing that won’t offend him.
She leaned against a pew and examined the swirls carved into its back.

Fortunately, he continued, “I was just setting up for an event the temple’s hosting this evening. It’s a memorial service to raise money for the victims of the asteroid strike on Uyfi. You should come. Some of the choir members are performing.”

Jane traced a finger along the swirls. “Yeah, maybe.” 
Sorry, but I have no interest whatsoever in attending any charity event my dad’s not making me show up at.

“I see. You think charity’s pointless, because most of the donated money goes to greedy middlemen.”

Jane looked up with a start. “Are the Via psychic or something?”
How’d he know what I was thinking?

Adam smiled. “Of course not. I’ve just heard it a thousand times, and you had it written all over your face.”

Jane crossed her arms. “Well, don’t judge me for being realistic. Uyfi is one of the most lawless Fringe planets out there. You’d be lucky to get one throne of donated money past the warlords.”

Adam leaned against the pew across the aisle from her. “I’m not judging you. You’re probably right.”

What?
Jane tilted her head. “Then why do you bother?”

“Because they need our help, and even the littlest bit still counts for something, doesn’t it?”

Jane disagreed vehemently. She pressed her mouth shut to keep from saying anything and turned her attention back to the swirls. The bright-eyed seminary guy was idealistic to a fault. She didn’t feel like wasting her breath arguing with someone clearly delusional.

“Now you think I’m an idiot for being so idealistic.” Adam sounded amused.

Jane kept her gaze on the carved pew, feeling along the smooth wooden edges. “Was that written all over my face too?”

“You do have a very expressive face.”

Jane gave up on using the pew as a distraction and faced Adam. “Then I might as well say it: I don’t believe in religion.”

A rant bubbled inside her, churning up her chest and onto her tongue. Whenever the urge came over her, she found it almost impossible to suppress. Whenever she tried, everyone could tell she had something to say anyway. Ranting had gotten her into a lot of trouble before, and it was about to make a good-natured priest wannabe hate her.
Oh, well.

Adam’s eyes twinkled with a teasing spark. “All right, let’s hear it.”

Jane pushed off the pew she leaned against. “Look, I know this is your way of life and all, but I think religion is an outdated practice designed to manipulate people.” She fumed about the past atrocities committed in the name of the Absolute Being and the hypocrisies of the ancient texts and the downright foolishness of the notion that people still listened to teachings written thousands of years ago. “Even the name of your deity’s bogus. The only reason Via call the Absolute ‘the Absolute’ is because half the galaxy’s reduced God to a figure of speech. People only cling to this nonsense because they’re too freaking weak to acknowledge the truth: that we’re all alone in a messed-up universe and have to figure it out for ourselves.”

She’d been too wrapped up in her own arguments to pay attention to Adam’s reactions. He hadn’t tried to interject. She figured she’d offended him into silence.

But he didn’t look angry or anything; he looked interested. He met her glare with a friendly smile, one without any trace of irony. “I don’t entirely disagree with you. Via has been used as an excuse far too many times, and the Absolute has been called upon under all kinds of absurd circumstances. Too many people use religion as a vehicle for power.”

Okay… Wasn’t expecting that.
Jane blinked, surprised. “So I ask again: why do you bother?”

“The Via institution may be flawed, but if it can help people live fulfilling lives and guide them to do good, is there really anything wrong with that?”

The discussion had continued well into the scheduled rehearsal. Jane found herself liking the guy despite herself. Contrary to her initial assessment, he was not an idiot. She disagreed with him about many things, but he was the first person she’d met in a while with whom she could be her real, perhaps somewhat odd, self. It helped that he was attractive.

Jane had eventually curtailed the debate and found the choir. When she’d finished, she saw Adam still there, dedicated to making the best of an event she believed was a sham. She’d found something inviting about his enthusiasm and stayed to help him, even attending the dumb shindig and wasting her money on a contribution.

After that, she’d met up with him often, since neither had any other real friends in the city. Adam was new in town, and Jane’s schoolmates had all returned to their homeworlds after graduation. She discovered she liked Adam’s company, despite her professed status as another Colt loner.

About a week back, she’d found out from her father that Devin proposed to Sarah about two weeks before. Jane had been furious, not only because her dear brother hadn’t bothered telling her about his life-changing decision, but also because of how stupid she found the whole thing.

Adam had noticed Jane’s crankiness when she’d met him at the seminary shortly after. “What’s wrong?”

Jane responded with a tirade about how she probably knew more about the woman who sat near her at work than about her own brother. She waved her arms for emphasis as she marched down the campus path, too livid to care if she looked like a lunatic. “He’s barely known Sarah six months! Who marries someone they’ve only known for six months? It’s the most irrational, blockheaded thing
ever
! I’ll bet he’s trying to seal the deal before she gets famous and some holodrama star steals her from him.”

Jane paused in a huff and was about to launch into a fresh diatribe when Adam stepped in front of her.

“Say, Jane, do you want to go out sometime?”

Huh?
She stopped in her tracks and stared dumbly, wondering if she’d heard him right. “But… But you’re my
friend
. Won’t it be weird?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“But…” Jane’s gaze fell on the seminary’s temple. “Are Counselors allowed to date? Aren’t they supposed to be married to the Absolute or something?”

“Jane, you’re smarter than that. The Via have never had any celibacy laws. That’s Origin.”

“Right…”

Jane realized that she was fishing for excuses. She almost said, “Adam, you don’t want to date me. I’m obnoxious, volatile, insensitive… Ask any of my exes.”

Truth be told, the thought of maybe, perhaps, potentially becoming more than friends had crossed her mind. She had been quick to dismiss it because she considered Adam to be more of a best friend type than boyfriend material. Then again, that was supposed to be the best kind. Her past romantic entanglements with fascinating artists and sophisticated charmers had ended up superficial, disappointing, and brief.

So on a whim, she’d said, “Okay, let’s give it a shot.”

Jane stepped onto the station platform of the airtrain she took every morning to work, thoughts of Adam still whirling in her head. Other than the fact they called their meet-ups “dates,” nothing had really changed between them. Which was a relief.

The steel-gray airtrain snaked around the skyscrapers. The doors opened as soon as it pulled into the station. Jane shuffled inside with the other commuters and took the nearest seat. Even though technology had long ago made it possible to never leave home—work, shopping, and anything else one might want could all be done through the Net—most companies, including her own, encouraged commuting to maintain the psychological health of their workers.

They probably had a point, but Jane, waiting for the train to move, still despised the daily ritual of sitting around with dozens of dull-eyed office workers. The journey itself only took a minute or so, but intersecting routes meant that the train sat at the station for several minutes waiting for the signal to go.

She drummed her fingers impatiently, wondering why no one had invented teleportation yet. They’d figured out how to tunnel through the space-time fabric and send communications through hyperspace. How hard could it be to dice people into molecules?

Actually, that sounds horrible. Never mind.

Bored, she eavesdropped on two businesswomen in the seats across from her.

The large woman with a pompous face sniffed. “It’s
ridiculous
. They treat us like criminals, making us prove our identity with DNA and other such inconveniences. I wish they could simply round up those cybercriminals—what do they call them again? Demons?—so we can vote remotely and save precious time!”

Her companion, a thin woman with a stylish haircut, sighed. “It’s such a waste that the best programmers are just overgrown children. Did you hear about what the Gag Warriors did?”

“No! What happened?”

“Well, there was that political commentator… I forget his name, but he was very influential on the Net… Glen! Paladin Glen!”

“What about him?”

The stylish woman leaned toward her companion as though telling a secret. “He’s not real. He’s a fictional character created by the Gag Warriors. That’s why his face is always obscured in videos and his voice always sounds disguised. It’s not to protect his identity; it’s because they’re computer-generated!”

The large woman sputtered in disbelief. Jane mentally echoed her sentiments. As someone who detested Paladin Glen, she found it funny that he and his bizarre opinions were a Gag Warriors prank. She agreed with the stylish woman that it was an awful waste of intelligence.

All hackers are freaking yahoos
.
Why else would they call themselves “demons”?

“The airtrain is about to depart. Destination: Quasar Bank Corporation headquarters. All aboard, please.”

A handful of latecomers rushed onto the train as the scarlet warning light blinked. One last man in a black suit dashed on as the doors closed, barely making it through.

Jane recognized him immediately. Tall and square-shouldered, a picture-perfect figure who could have walked right out of one of Quasar’s ads. Clean cut, clean shaven, wavy locks kept at a fashionable length.
What a tool. Yup, that’s my brother.

“Devin!” The train gave off a loud ring at the same time, drowning her out.

Jane lived in the same building as Devin and worked at the same office, but she rarely saw him unless she scheduled something. He worked much longer hours than she did, so she was surprised to see him on her usual commuter train.

As the train started moving, she approached him. “Devin?”

Devin typed furiously on his slate, engrossed in whatever he was doing.

“Hey, Devin! Hello?” He was still caught up in that freaking device, so Jane snatched it. “Devin Colt! This is your sister speaking! How are you today?”

“What?” Devin looked confused, then annoyed. “Pony, give that back.”

“I think I outgrew ‘Pony’ about ten years ago.” Jane looked at his slate. He’d been in the middle of an instant message conversation with someone with the Netname Corsair. Topic of discussion: robots. Apparently, there was one that could solve riddles. “Robots? Really?”

“It’s not your concern.” Devin took the slate back.

Jane raised her hands sarcastically. “Sorry. Didn’t realize your robot discussions were so private.”

“They’re not.” He folded the slate and put it in his pocket.

Jane plopped down in the seat beside him. “What’re you doing here? I never run into you on the morning train.”

“Just running late. How are you? How’s work going? What are you doing today?”

Jane sighed. She sometimes felt as though she and her brother had run out of things to talk about. “I’m-fine-work’s-fine-not-much-meeting-Adam-for-lunch.” She strung her words together in a bored monotone.

Devin nodded. “Good.”

“So… how’s Sarah?”

“Good.”

The train arrived at the Quasar platform, and the doors opened. Devin pulled his slate out again as he stepped off the train.

Jane followed him. “Hey, we haven’t caught up in a while. Do you have time for dinner this week? Just you and me, no Dad or Sarah?”

Devin didn’t reply, even though he was right beside her. He tapped his slate as if she were invisible.

Annoyed, Jane stopped and watched him disappear into the crowd of commuters. “Love you too, bro.”

Copy-paste, copy-paste, pull-data, copy-paste…
Did anyone even read those stupid reports?