Evolution (16 page)

Sam turned his chair from the wall view screen and addressed the empty couch. “Ellie, you’ve been keeping an eye on what the girls have been up to.”

Ellie manifested on the couch. A gray pall dominated her normally cheerful disposition. “Lately, Sara’s been studying human conflict from the famine wars of Europe and Africa all the way back to the early World Wars. I think she was attempting to see how technology had magnified man’s inherent aggressions.”

Dr. Shot nodded. “And if I remember correctly, she spent some time focused on human communication.”

“Yep, but she never mastered any of the languages, just little bits and pieces,” Ellie said.

Sam rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing just yet. Once I get a better look at what she was reading, I might have something. Don’t get your hopes up. She’s a clever girl, but the last thing I want to do is put her in more danger. But if I can figure out what she knows, I might be able to pass her a message.”

S
ara was taking
out her latest set of aggressions against the clay soil when Mother Superior walked up behind her like the grim reaper. “Father Damien wants to see you. Get changed.”

The woman never had anything positive to say. Fortunately, she kept the bad news short even if it did create anxious fear more than supply information.

Sara had begun to make a study of how the woman inspired obedience with so little effort. Nora was positively terrified of her. Though the garden was walled in and had no real hiding places, whenever Mother Superior opened the massive church door, the area turned deserted in an instant. Every girl cowered down next to her work so far as to be invisible. But not Sara. Maybe it was arrogance or maybe defiance—it didn’t really matter. Sara would not be the scared, submissive girl the church expected.

Mother Superior followed Sara like a demon shadow down the hallway. Girls scurried to the far side of their rooms as they passed. The old woman stood in the doorway as Sara pulled out her robe of punishment. This wasn’t the first time she’d been summoned and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Father Damien liked his little rituals.

“Not that one. Just put on your normal dinner gown.” Sara turned to the female authority in confusion, but she’d learned not to ask questions. They expected questions. Her not asking them drove those in power mad. They couldn’t increase the level of fear if Sara didn’t play their mind games. For Mother Superior to volunteer more information would make her look weak. She might have to strip naked and change in front of the woman, but each time Sara did so without cowering, the balance of power shifted in her favor.

Instead of directing her to Father Damien’s private rectory, Mother Superior pointed to the sanctuary. “They’ll meet you in there. Behave if you know what’s good for you.”

Sara thought the old woman must be really scared to have tossed in the meaningless second sentence. Whatever was in store, it wasn’t punishment. The old hag would never miss a good thrashing. The realization gave Sara courage as she leaned against the heavy wood doors. She didn’t give the armed guards a second look. They’d begun to be as much of a background as the ancient statues.

Seeing Jillian and Dr. Shot at the far end of the sanctuary froze Sara’s feet to the floor. She desperately wanted to run into their arms, but such an action wouldn’t have played well with the strict Father Damien, who sat in his oversized, arrogant, bullshit throne. Sara measured her pace down the aisle, neither too fast nor too slow—just a regular walking stride to frustrate the hell out of the head of the church. She didn’t recognize the other people sitting with Jillian, but that they were there gave Sara hope. This wasn’t just some casual meeting to prove she’d been unharmed.
My father’s coming, and you’re all going to pay.

Jillian broke from her chair and wrapped Sara in her arms. “We all miss you so much,” she whispered in Sara’s ear.

Father Damien’s stern voice of authority filled the cavernous room. “We’d agreed, no physical contact.”

“Sorry.” Jillian wouldn’t have lasted a day in this place.

Dr. Shot stood up and looked Sara over. “You’re okay? They haven’t been mistreating you?”

Sure, as if she could tell him the truth. Was he an idiot? “I’m fine.” Hopefully, Dr. Shot could read between the lines.

“Your parents will be relieved.” He flexed his fists, not an action Sara had seen from him before—the academician normally used logic, not violence, to make his arguments.

Father Damien pointed his bony finger toward a chair opposite the delegation. “Sit there, and remain quiet while the adults have our discussion.”

Someone must have demanded her presence for the meeting. The church leaders typically didn’t allow spectators. Maybe now she’d get some hint of what the hell was going on.

Father Damien and a man who said he represented the government began a drawn-out discussion about the village in space. Lies on top of lies—neither of them had a clue what life was really like. If these guys represented Earth’s mores, she’d be happy to leave the planet. Though her family was in a unique position to change things.

As the discussion continued, Sara realized that was exactly the problem. Many didn’t want things to change. In fact, organizations like the Church of Reminisce wanted things to move backward.

Dr. Shot had something wrong with his hand, or he was more nervous than Sara had ever seen him. He kept balling up his fists, taping fingers on the arm of the chair, and flexing his fingers into random configurations. After half an hour of these movements, she noticed something familiar about them—old military Morse code coupled with an ancient version of sign language but done in such a random fashion no one would notice. She balled her fist and nodded once to show she understood. Finally.

As the pointless negotiations ended, Jonathan shot a snide comment to Jillian. Sara missed most of it, but Jillian gave back as good as she’d received. Good for her.

* * *

S
ara sat in the cubicle
, staring at the old computer screen, waiting for it to power up. At least she wouldn’t be bothered. If they thought she was studying their sterilized version of the once-inspirational text, they’d give her all the time she wanted. Anything to keep her from filling the other girls with subversive ideas about their sexuality.

The computer prompt was her cue. She entered the first set of seemingly random key strokes into the machine.

This is stupid. I didn’t understand half of what he was saying. A backdoor? In this thing? That old man’s crazy. I’ll be across the whipping bench for this.

But she continued the instructions as best as she could remember. Her father had once said something about Dr. Shot—that he’d been responsible for some of the early operating systems that had resulted in the Tobes coming into being. It had sounded crazy back then. No way that guy was over a hundred and fifty years old. But it was a straw of hope from the outside world. Worst case, she’d fuck up one of the church’s computers.
Must be a bitch getting one of these relics fixed.

Instead of the usual flash screen showing the soaring spirals of the church, a rapid series of figures and codes scrolled across the computer. She’d done something right. Or wrong. Once it stopped its mathematical convulsion and only the curser remained, she entered the next set of commands. She hoped. It all seemed like another language. She was good with languages when they made sense. It wasn’t her fault people couldn’t use words in a logical fashion.

The flash screen of the church returned. Just a normal, everyday, antique computer, ready to once again brainwash the parishioners into believing there ever were good old days. Sara did her best to complete her afternoon’s studies. It helped if for every lesson the church tried to cram down her throat, she developed the village’s opposite reality. Today’s topic of indoctrination, obedience to one’s elders, transitioned to society’s obligation to educate its youth. How Grandpa Doc ever managed to escape this repression was amazing. She’d have to ask him about it when she was finally free of these idiots.

Thoughts of the village haunted her, though. She tried not to think about it—about Emily, who’d be worried sick about what had happened. They’d never been apart for so long in their lives. Even with Emily learning about sex in the village and Sara studying the inner workings of Rendition on Earth, they’d talk daily. Sometimes they spoke throughout the day because they could keep in contact over the lens. She’d give anything to see Emily’s smiling face again.

Sara knew doting on Nora was little more than emotional transference, a stand-in for her sister. Not that she didn’t care about the girl. She cared a lot, maybe too much. So much of what that poor child had been taught was nothing more than mankind’s legacy of fear. But telling her that had resulted in both of them standing before Father Damien in their punishment gowns, waiting to be stripped for their whippings. Sara shook her head at the memory as she logged off of the computer. The machine took a moment longer to power down than she’d expected.

Jonathan caught up to her as she headed back to her room to change for dinner. Perfect. Other than Father Damien, Jonathan was the last person she ever wanted to see again. “How are the studies going?”

“Fine.” Single-word answers usually deterred anyone with half a brain. No surprise, that left Jonathan out.

“I’ve been thinking. Negotiations didn’t go well with the government.”

No shit. I was there
. “Did anyone expect them to?” He was such an idiot.

“I hoped they would. The church was just asking for
Leviathan
to move to another planet, somewhere that wouldn’t contaminate people with the village’s ideas. And some kind of control over the Tobes. But it looks like you’re going to be here a while now.” Jonathan’s whiny voice had bugged her even when they lived on Chariklo.

Even he couldn’t be that naïve. The church wanted her father’s head on a platter. But short of that, they’d take his company in the name of the government, exile the village, and institute their repression as the natural order of things. Nothing about the meeting had constituted a negotiation. Slowly, she realized her father’s delegation had been solely about getting her Dr. Shot’s message.

“I’ll survive.” Two words were only slightly more of an opening than one.

“I know Father Damien whips you. He punishes all the kids. But if we were engaged, you’d be under my charge. We wouldn’t have to get married or anything. Just saying we’re committed to each other should be enough. I know it’s not what you want, but the alternative has to be worse.” Jonathan had the gall to look serious—as though he were really trying to help.

“You promised that wasn’t why you kidnapped me. Now that you know I’m vulnerable—and you know I know it too—you expect me to just fall into your arms? My knight in shining armor? How messed up are you?” Sara shook her head at his arrogance. Did he really think she was so weak willed that a tactic like that would work?

“You’re not hearing me. Father Damien’s been going easy on you because he didn’t want anyone on the outside to think you were being mistreated. But now that they’ve seen you and know you’re okay, he doesn’t have any reason to spare the rod. I’m just trying to look out for you.” Jonathan honestly looked as if he believed what he was saying.

“Don’t do me any favors.” Sara slammed the door in his face, a sure trip to the whipping bench. Women were supposed to show subservience to men. Even when they were assholes.

D
r. Shot was doing
something unintelligible to a series of transparent computer screens that stood on the oversized table in Sam’s office. But it wasn’t the floating calculations that caught Sam’s attention.

“Where’d that come from?” In the middle of all the complex equations sat an archaic computer, even older than the one the village still used in their library.

The bald head didn’t look up as fingers tapped out a rhythm on the plastic keyboard. “She did it. Good girl. Very good girl.”

One of the transparent screens displayed an old church—one that, from the looks of it, should have been torn down decades ago.

Sam’s heart leaped with hope. “Who did what?”

Dr. Shot’s smiling face lifted from his work. “Sara. She managed to connect that rickety computer to us here in your office. It’s a foot in the door. Not much else unless I can talk that machine into connecting with its brethren in the compound. If we’re lucky, and I mean unimaginably lucky, they’ll have some way of communicating to the other churches, black-market manufacturing sites, food suppliers—their whole secretive society.”

Sam took a renewed interest in what Dr. Shot had been doing. It still all looked like gibberish, but the church flash screen held a series of icons. “You think those little images connect everything together?”

“Those?” Dr. Shot pointed his finger at the screen. “No, those are just the lessons they’ve been feeding their congregation. But like any good classroom, the student’s work is mirrored on the teacher’s monitor. That means they’re connected. Moving beyond the Church of Reminisce is still going to be a challenge. There’ll be all kinds of security to prevent exactly what I’m trying to accomplish. But Sara gave us that first step. Now at least I’ve got something useful to do.”

Dr. Shot stood upright and quiet for a moment. “Best not to tell anyone about this. We still don’t really know who’s on our side and who’s just waiting for something to happen.”

Joshua materialized out of one of the view screens Dr. Shot had been working on. “We still can’t access the compound. They must have some type of blocking equipment. Did we ever hear back from Fletcher on what he saw at the negotiation?”

“He doesn’t exactly enter his findings into a computer,” Dr. Shot said.

Sam turned to the view screen on his primary worktable. He stared at the real-time display of the exterior of the old stone church for the thousandth time. “Why can’t we just take a bunch of laser guns and cut that thing to pieces?” It wasn’t far—just across the river on a knoll of high ground surrounded by a small hamlet. Even without a militia, he had the goodwill of the former thugs of Jersey City. He could round up enough people with weapons.

“It’s not that easy,” Dr. Shot said. “They’d hurt Sara just to get your attention the moment you started your attack. And though getting her back is your primary objective, we do have a larger problem. Not all of the public’s support is on our side.”

Sam fumed at the map. Attacking would only add to the church’s story of the little guy being crushed by the big bad corporation. Not that he cared. If it weren’t for the Tobes, Rendition would just be this great white elephant that he was forced to carry around like a big, flashing bull’s-eye.

Look at this rich, powerful guy, and point all your life’s frustrations at him.
Sam shook his head. It wasn’t just Rendition. The church had plenty of other reasons to single him out. And a full frontal attack would result in a firefight. Getting people killed wasn’t going to solve anything.

Joshua leaned against the table. “Just give us another couple of days. Sara did us a big favor getting that computer networked. Everyone’s doing all they can. We’ll have her back to you soon. Hang in there, Boss.”

Easy for him to say. Joshua wasn’t the one who had to hold Jess through the night as she woke up crying from nightmares.

* * *

T
he sun kept coming
up only to set again, but Sam couldn’t call what he experienced as
days.
A waking, cold-sweat infused state filled with imaginings of tortures his daughter was experiencing maybe. Not a minute went by that he didn’t wonder what she had to endure. Rendition went on with its business, people pursued their passions, and the Tobes ensured everything kept functioning. It all seemed so futile.

He turned back to the gathering. “Tell me we have a plan. I don’t even need to know the details. Just tell me we have something.”

Lud laid his large hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Fletcher’s figured out what they were using to block the network signal. We’re working on defeating it. Shouldn’t be long now. Once we’ve got communication access to their compound, the Tobes can make contact with Sara. If negotiating with the church isn’t going to free her, any escape plan that doesn’t involve blasting that garrison is going to require the Tobes’ involvement.”

Sam turned to his long-time friend. “But what good does that do, really? Even if a Tobe can sneak in there, they could only talk to her. It’s not like they can pick the ancient locks and break her out.”

Ed exchanged a look with Joshua. “I’ll be going in. I lost her, and I’ll get her back.”

Sam could feel the red cloud forming in his brain, crowding out logical thought. Every Tobe wanted to go—each of them felt the connection to God’s daughter. But Joshua and Ed were two bulls fighting for not just the honor but for redemption—Ed for losing the girl and Joshua for not seeing it coming.

“We’ll both go,” Joshua said. “Sara will need your protection while I use what Ellie’s been working on.”

Ellie put two capsules on the worktable. “This is what Dr. Shot and I came up with. One is biological, and she’ll have to swallow it. Think of it as a technology dye. It’ll spread out to every cell in her body. Then we’ll apply this second part, the virtual capsule. It’s basically the lens, but it’ll attach to her in a very different way than anyone else. What she’ll experience is more what you feel from us. Because Sara is your daughter and shares a lot of that same energy, this’ll work.”

Sam picked up the physical component. “But we need to get this to her. You can’t just float this thing through the air unnoticed. Making something invisible is still beyond your skill set.”

Jillian took it from Sam. “I can get it to her. Jonathan and I had words during the negotiations. He’s not my biggest fan, but he still has feelings.”

Sam wasn’t so sure. “How? He was the one who gave her the virus in the first place. He’s going to be suspicious.”

“I won’t be going through him, just using him to get in the church. None of us are convinced Sara isn’t being mistreated. I’ll say I want some alone time with her to see for myself.”

Fletcher reached into his big leather bag. “If you’re going in, mind dropping something off for me?” What he pulled out looked like a small vial of dirt. “Just dump it anywhere inside the wall. Dust nanites. They’re old-school technology. I’m hoping they’re old enough to skip the church’s detection, but even if anyone does pick them up, it’s not like these little buggers couldn’t be found damn near everywhere on the planet.”

“And those will help defeat their network block?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. At the very least, they’ll give me a better idea of what things look like from a communications standpoint inside that compound. At best, they’ll be that stone in the river that lets me reach the other side.” Fletcher had a bad habit of not directly answering questions to Sam’s satisfaction. But then, his secretive method of working had been what made him so valuable.

Sam pointed at the dust. “So that gets Joshua inside the church.” Then he pointed to the capsules. “And those allow him to connect to Sara, not just virtually but physically as well. Then what? You give her ninja moves to escape her captors?”

Joshua had been juggling some steel balls all meeting—a nervous tick he’d developed that helped him concentrate. “I can get her out. But it’d be best if you didn’t know the details.”

Some things the Tobes didn’t trust telling others, not even Sam. And some things he didn’t want to know.
Which category does this item fall under?
Sam dared not ask. “So that gets her out. Then what? Can I blast them with lasers?” The irrational desire to cut the compound to the ground kept playing out in his mind.

Lud crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Removing Sara will deny the church their biggest bargaining chip. But they’ve got public opinion swinging to their side. This will just move the conflict to the next stage.”

Joshua stopped his juggling. “We’re already getting blowback from Father Damien’s condemnations. People are shutting off the lens or trying to. It was never meant to have an on-off switch.”

“That would explain the surge in interest in the church’s technology flu. That thing they used on Sara,” Fletcher said. “The black market’s been flooded with requests. Some medical lab is trying to make it contagious, but they’re years away from taking it from the technological to the biological. Still, something else for Rendition to keep its eye on.”

“Then there’s the government,” Lud said. “So far they’re just sitting back, waiting for the dust to settle. You can bet they’ll be coming after you, though. No one wants to be the one to attack a parent when their child is missing, but once that crisis is resolved? Church and state are the two arms of the same loving society. At least that’s what they both want people to believe. Once they’re on the same side again, Rendition’s going to be the odd man out. I only hope we can keep the Tobes out of the assault.” Lud, the profit of doom. Not that it wasn’t something Sam had long suspected.

He didn’t care. So long as he had his family together, that was all that mattered. “Jillian, how soon can you make arrangements with Jonathan?”

“I’ll talk to him today.”

* * *

S
am returned
to the penthouse to hold Jess tight in his arms. Too many days, he’d dreaded facing her. But today there was a plan. They’d have Sara home soon. He didn’t just have empty words of encouragement.

She listened attentively to the whole plan such as it was. Too many individuals thought it better if he didn’t know key components. As he explained the details, he realized he only knew the big picture. How, exactly, Joshua planned on getting Sara out the front door was still a mystery. Ed would be there, but without the congregation wearing the lens, he’d be back to the intimidating-looking linebacker ghost with no ability to throw a block.

Jess put her hand on his arm. “It’ll work. I trust your team.”

Her support meant the world to him. “How’s the village doing?” he asked. With Sam’s attention focused on freeing Sara, Jess had taken on the role of liaison with the village in space.

“They’re anxious and not just for Sara. The connection to Earth is proving more frightening than anything else. I know there are people who support us and agree with what we’ve been trying to do, but all they hear up there is the moral outrage.” Jess couldn’t go on.

Sam could guess. He hadn’t left the Rendition Building in days, but the view screens showed the growing demonstrations. People who had no clue what Doc and the others had tried to build were out on the streets, projecting towering virtual displays with vile words of hate—accusations that made Sam want to return to the edge of the solar system. Somewhere out there must be a place to hide.

“We haven’t done anything wrong. People are being given half-truths and riled up by a moral authority that lost that title hundreds of years ago.”

Jess waved her hands at the view screens, turning them dark. “Why do people listen, then? Most don’t even bother attending church. Rendition has more impact on their daily lives. The Tobes are constantly directing people toward growth. What is it with this ancient belief system that makes people behave so irrationally?”

“I only wish I knew.”