Evolution (15 page)

“Your being here has nothing to do with Jonathan’s desires. And we protect our young. We don’t subject them to temptations they’re unprepared to handle. Sex is a sacred bond between a husband and wife—”

Sara began playing mental solitaire, a trick Ellie had taught her. The challenge was keeping her mind out of the shuffle. Each card had to come up at random, without her influencing the deal.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?” The man’s yellow, misaligned teeth ground together as best as they could.

“No, I’m not. You want to get the world’s attention. Fine. Kidnapping the daughter of the richest, most powerful people on Earth will no doubt get you that. But you dare not hurt me. And I’m never going to listen to your sick doctrine. I’ll work if it means I don’t have to be locked up in my cell. But don’t spread your bullshit ideas out on me like rainbows.” She only wished she had as much bravery as her speech.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, young lady. Girls in our community find their butts tanned red for speaking like that to an elder of the church. If you had parents in our congregation, you’d have learned better by your age. But I suppose we’ll have to cut you some slack. You did come from a den of iniquity. And that’s something we intend to combat.” The man might be physically ugly, but that only mirrored his doctrine.

“Can I go do my chores now?” Anything had to be better than a breakfast of sludge followed by repressive misogyny.

“Nora will meet you in the garden. Jonathan says you’ve got some skills growing plants. Hopefully, that’s not just confined to illegal crops. After that, you’ll spend a few hours in bible study before dinner.” The father dismissed her with the back of his hand. She suspected that all too often, that dismissal had landed across some poor girl’s face.

* * *

S
ara stumbled
on the doorstep out of the ancient stone church into the walled-in backyard. Nora’s smile had a way of brightening the whole garden—not that it was a very big plot of ground. “You didn’t get a whooping. That’s good. Father Damien can be really strict. I once got one for not sitting still during his sermon about wives being submissive to their husbands.”

Sara wondered how tough it’d be to take Nora with her when she got rescued. This whole place needed to be pulled to the ground. That would be her first request once she was home safe. Her father would be happy to do the deed himself, one stone at a time. He could do it too—she was certain. “I just got a lecture. I’ll do my best to behave while I’m here.”

Nora frowned. “No one leaves. We’re going to be friends for life. That’s the way it is here.”

Sara wrapped her arm around the girl. “I’m sure we will be friends forever.”
Just not in this repressive hell.

Nora pulled out of Sara’s embrace and looked around the small space. “They don’t like us hugging like that,” she whispered.

Sara gave her a secretive nod of understanding.
Of course they don’t.

The garden tools—matches to the ones the village had used on Chariklo—pawed through the dirt with ease. Someone had taken great care to condition the soil. A flat of baby tomato plants sat between Sara and Nora. Putting them in the ground to grow reminded Sara of home so strongly she started envisioning the meals that would be prepared with the large, lush fruit. But it wasn’t the grand dining hall of the church she imagined. These plants would feed her village in space. That was the thought that kept her hands working until the girls were told they’d done enough for one day.

The hours spent in the church’s library were far more torturous. Sara remembered her father talking about how learning when he was young felt more like being in an institution. For the first time, she knew what he meant. Was it really that expensive to buy comfortable chairs? Did they all have to hurt the butt and back? Maybe that was the point. She didn’t know about such things and now had no intention of pursuing the field of study regarding old-fashioned religion or education. Some things should be lost to history, like this church and its stupid fucking religion.

She pushed the large button on the front of a plastic box. Nothing happened. It couldn’t have been that hard. There was just the one button. As she wondered if she should push it again, a geometric design appeared on the black screen. How was it possible for a piece of technology to be so slow?

Computers, software, and the history of technology had been something she’d studied. But she’d never run across an actual network dinosaur before. The computer was barely useful for data storage. Wind 56 had to be the most useless operating system of the modern era. Even Doc had seen fit to use a better machine for the village. At least playing with the old village box had given her some insight into how to manipulate this church piece of junk.

As she investigated the capabilities of the ancient computer, she realized her ID card had more functionality. All this thing could do was recite the lessons the church thought appropriate for an innocent young girl. They must have thought her foolish. But to avoid the spanking she suspected was coming her way no matter what, she tried to make sense of the asinine doctrine.

T
he image
of Jonathan’s face on the view screen sent a cold chill down Sam’s spine. He knew before the man said a word that he was responsible. Only by bottling up his anger could he allow Jonathan room to speak. “She’s okay. You don’t need to worry. I’m looking after her.”

That was somehow supposed to help?

Like two hurricanes about to decimate the coastline, Jess and Jillian controlled their outburst next to Sam. “Why?” He wasn’t even sure which of them had asked.

“The church wanted the world’s attention. They think the village in space is a threat to the very moral compass of all humanity. Free love, female dominance, teaching the youth about sex—it all goes against their fundamental ideas of who people should be. Then there’s the Tobes. Did you really have to let them make themselves known? A self-aware, immortal life form living in people’s computers—what were you thinking?” Jonathan had all the markings of a zealot but one who still wanted to sound reasonable.

Jillian squeezed her hands into fists so tight her knuckles turned white. “You’re from the village. You of all people must be able to tell them the truth. Make them listen. We’re not a threat to anyone.”

“Aren’t you? I’d have lived happily my whole life with you. Had kids, built a home. It’s all I ever wanted. But the village tore that from me.” He looked at Jess. “Twice.”

Sam thought his head was about to explode. “You blame me for taking the two women you’ve loved, so now you take my daughter?” Threats seemed unnecessary though they’d undoubtedly be satisfying. He resisted the urge.

“Sara is an innocent. Her only crime is being your daughter. No one was going to listen to the abductors of a child from some middle-class family. It had to be someone important. And you represent everything the church hates—with your wealth, your control of the Tobes. You even lived for a year out in the open with two women, all three of you as equals.” Jonathan’s attempted sneer softened as he looked at Jess and Jillian.

“What do you want, Jonathan?” Jillian had never been a fan of subterfuge.

“It doesn’t matter what I want. Someday you’ll see I only did this to protect Sara. They were going to kidnap her either way. These people have guns. Not the network-controlled las-weapons that ensure no one accidently ends up in the line of fire. I’m talking those old-fashioned nonguided bullets that randomly hit anything in their path. If I helped, I could keep her safe. And she is safe. That’s all I wanted to say. The leaders of the church will make their demands. Listen to them. They aren’t fooling around, and they have more supporters than you might think.”

“You know you’ll never be welcomed back to the village.” Jess’s cold stare accompanied her banishment. “Ever. I hope you like this technological seclusion, as well, because no Tobe is going to allow you network access after this. If I were you, I’d find some dark cave to hide in. And pray we never find you.”

The corners of Jonathan’s eyes drooped slightly, but he made no comment. He had to know it was coming, but hearing from his childhood friend that he’d been cut off from everything he’d known growing up couldn’t have been easy. But he had brought it on himself. Sam felt nothing but fury at the betrayal no matter what Jonathan’s delusions were.

The face—which had been burned into Sam’s mind—slowly faded from the screen. Hopefully for the last time. But instead of some religious despot taking Jonathan’s place, Michael Baldwin, one of the government’s representatives on Rendition’s board, came on. “They’re called the Church of Reminisce. We received their manifesto shortly before Jonathan lit up the screen with his dazzling personality. We’re still going over it. But their leader has demanded airtime on all systems worldwide. Only Rendition has the power to make that happen. We in the government think it’s a dangerous play. They’re making all kinds of allegations. If even a fraction of what they say in this document is true, letting the world know what you’re up to in the village in space could result in riots.”

“Why would anyone care?” Jess asked. “It’s not like we’re trying to convert anyone. We just want to live as we see fit.”

Michael ran his hand along the tablet, apparently reminding himself of key issues. “Allowing people to have any type of sex they want, even teaching children about sex. Threatening the sanctity of marriage. The list goes on and on. My take is this group needed a great wickedness to combat, and your village fit the bill perfectly. And with you as the richest, most powerful couple on the planet, they get to look like the little moral voice combating the all-powerful evil.”

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“If you’re asking what the government can do, not much. Many here already think Rendition is too powerful and would like to see it broken up. This morally questionable activity gives them the opening they’ve been waiting for. I’d say, tap this down before it turns into the worldwide cause this church is looking for. They don’t care about your daughter, aren’t asking for some grand ransom, and couldn’t care less about what’s going on in the space over their heads. They want legitimacy. They want power over people’s lives.”

“But aren’t they breaking the law beyond the kidnapping?” Sam asked. “I thought those deadly-projectile weapons were eliminated years ago. No guidance control—who in their right mind would fire such a gun?”

The thought that his daughter, or anyone in the penthouse, could have been accidentally killed during her kidnapping if the church had instituted its plan put Sam into a cold sweat. Busting into their home with guns blazing would have worked all too well at keeping everyone cowering under the furniture. But Jonathan’s prevention of violence didn’t forgive what he had done.

“As Fletcher explained, the church isn’t connected to the network,” Michael said. “They won a case involving religious freedom and right to privacy. But part of that lawsuit involved their right to self-protection. If they were going to be able to secure their church, it’d have to be with something not associated with the communication network. That eliminated all lasguns since the Tobes make sure no one accidentally, or even on purpose, shoots someone.”

Sam balled his fists. “Did no one think maybe
religious freedom
was being taken just a little too far? They’re practically letting these people do whatever they want.”

“You’re not going to get an argument from me.”

* * *

S
creens lit
up around the penthouse. Views of Doc and the founding members of the village; the people of the village floating in space; Tobes from everywhere; board members who couldn’t be present—all were there to offer their support or witness Sam’s downfall. Lud, Dr. Shot, Jillian, and Jess crowded in close to Sam. Though he longed for their touch, this was something he’d have to face alone, and the physical connection might weaken his resolve.

Father Damien White of the Church of Reminisce sat on a high-backed gold chair. His robes of crimson and black looked to have been patterned after the Spanish Inquisition. “The United Churches of the Moral Compass bring the following charges against the group known as the village which occupies the star freighter
Leviathan
in orbit around Earth: education of a sexual nature of underage minors, sexual conduct with underage minors, sexual promiscuity, and disrespect of the fundamental, God-sanctioned union of man and wife with the husband being the head of his family. In addition, we charge Samuel Adamson with the heresy of claiming to be God. This man is the personification of the worst we can become. His lust for wealth has taken your jobs. You are beholden to him for every piece of communication and information you use as part of your daily lives. The power he wields extends to nearly every person on Earth. He must be stopped.”

Father Damien settled back on his throne to consult his notes. “The beings known as the Tobes have infiltrated every aspect of your lives. They watch you while you eat, sleep, work, have sex—every action of every moment, they’re watching. We demand of the world governments that privacy be once again a human right.”

He set his pages aside. “We’ve been accused of kidnapping the daughter of Samuel and Jessica Adamson. This is only partially true. The girl has been subjected to every manner of brainwashing imaginable. With the help of a friend she’s known since birth, we attempted an intervention into her young life. But we aren’t the monsters. We are willing to accept a delegation to discuss our terms with the understanding that once we reach an agreement, this unfortunate child will be returned to her family. We only request that this be accompanied by moral supervision to ensure she’s not further damaged.”

Sam had never understood the phrase
seeing red
before,
but as Father Damien droned on and on about the people Sam loved, the blood flowing to his head became so intense everything took on a red hue. But it wasn’t just Sam’s biology. His emotional connection to the Tobes indicated boiling tempers around the planet that put the climate crisis to shame. Hurricanes would be nothing compared the anger the technological beings could set loose on humanity.

Calm down. So far, it’s just this one religious leader.

If he didn’t get control of this situation fast, the whole planet could dissolve into a war between people and Tobes—a war that would only result in chaos and a modern-day version of the Dark Ages. And that was exactly what Father Damien desired.

* * *

M
ichael Baldwin looked more
haggard than usual. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his shirt—normally wrinkled anyway—had fresh coffee stains on top of spills from the previous day. Sam hated the government’s interference with Rendition, but if he had to have a liaison, Michael Baldwin would be his choice in every conflict.

“I’m sorry to put you through this. I suppose the government feels caught in the middle,” Sam said.

Michael rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “I only wish they did. It’s more like fighting off a pack of wolves once they sense a wounded deer. Too many interests salivating at the prospect of picking up a piece of your pie.”

“First I’m dead meat, then the dessert too?” Sam wondered when Michael had slept last. He always resorted to metaphors when his mind wandered.

“Sorry, bad analogies. So far I’ve been able to pit the differing forces against each other. Basically, they’re all arguing about who gets what even before there’s any discussion of breaking up your company. But that’s not important right now. We’ve worked out the details for the discussion with Father Damien. He won’t allow anyone connected to the network, so anyone using the lens—and that’s damn near everyone—is out. Any ideas?”

“Dr. Elliot Shot. He’s intimately connected to the Tobes but also has a healthy fear of technology. Fletcher Bloodworth—he’s a private detective. He might see something useful, and he distrusts everyone. I’d also like Jillian Cage. She’s from the village and used to have a romantic connection to Jonathan. She’s also very close to Sara. Those are the only three I can think of without pulling in too many from the village. I doubt they’d be of much use.” The scholar, the skeptic, and the empath—if he couldn’t be there himself, best to have the bases covered.

“The government’s going to want one of their representatives present too. We just have to find someone who’s not either out to get you or fully connected to the network. Tall order.” Michael would have been the most desired choice, but Sam knew a second board member of Rendition would be out of the question even if he weren’t using the lens.

Sam switched the view screen back to the dark clouds outside. The storm had played cat and mouse with the sun for days: strong winds and tropical rains in the morning had given way to humid, sun-drenched afternoons only to have the clouds close back in for the evening electrical storms. Was Father Damien also playing a game of control? The possibility that this meeting could result in anything close to the release of Sara seemed unlikely. But if the delegation could see her and know that she was okay, it might be worth it.

Dr. Shot interrupted Sam’s contemplations. “Got word from Michael about your little delegation. Of course I’m happy to help. I had an idea. Sara’s been reading a lot, right? Any hope I could get a look at her reading list?”