Wow. Almost finished this story! Although it has been fun, finishing this
means I can get on with stuff, like my own original stories, or, like I
said before, a Terry Brooks fanfic. (again, soz to Feye). Hmm. Oh, that's
it. A note of importance: the Believer religion is a unification and
combination of all Christian and Orthodox religions. When I write, being a
Catholic, it will sound Catholic, but it is meant to be undenominational,
and it is not meant to discriminate.
Deirdre was surprised when she entered the abode of Miriam in New Jerusalem. From the outside, the entire city looked ugly, almost a wart on the landscape of planet. Great iron towers, looking like age-old battleships from ancient Earth. An immense crucifix had been placed in the centre of the city, on a blackened, charred hill. Calvary Memorial, it had been called, and underneath this scarred hill, Miriam lived, in her cavernous catacombs.
Everything was designed to remind the Believers of the commitment of the Lord to his holy cause, and of the suffering of he and his followers. The catacombs were designed to relate to the times when Christianity was newly emerging, and the persecution of their religion by the Roman Empire had reached its peak. Deirdre remembered reading from the data links once, about a particular party of the Emperor Nero. Christians had been used a torches to light the festivities.
Hopefully, she and Miriam could prevent the same happening under Zakharov.
The ceilings of the caves under the hill were encrusted with blood-red crystals, dyed that colour by the simplistic Believer machines. Blood to inform anyone that entered of the sacrifice that the Christian faith had been built on. Deirdre felt uplifted now. For years Deirdre had been empty to her faith, convinced that it was only a human expression of hope of life after death, controlled by human laws and regulations.
Now that her faith had experienced a powerful resurgence, she found it easier to accept her faults. Before, there had been no chance of redemption, no second chance at a greater life. Now though it was different. She had someone to turn to, no matter how grave the problem, someone that would listen whatever the circumstances. Christ and his love were unconditional.
The Sister of the Believers turned to her. "You should have visited here before now, Deirdre. I sense that your soul needs healing that only the Lord can provide. You remind me so much of my own daughter, Deirdre."
Deirdre closed her eyes, feeling a sympathetic wave of pity. "I don't know how you managed, Miriam. Leaving your children and husband on Earth. I could never have done it, and I have always admired you for it."
Miriam nodded. "I thank you, but I will take no praise for my act. God called me, and I had to answer, but it was the most difficult thing in my life to do. I am a better person for it, but still, my soul feels shame when I remember her face."
Deirdre sighed.
"How do I remind you of her, Miriam?"
Miriam shrugged.
"I- I am not sure. It is difficult to explain, Deirdre, but she was always so exuberant, so full of happiness. She was clever, extremely so, and she had exactly the same fascination with plants as you did. She worked in Bioresearch for a time. You may remember her. I think she was with you in White Plains."
Deirdre frowned, and then nodded. "Yes, I remember. She was a quiet girl who was contemplative and innocent. I saw her in the Church a few times. Yes. I had no idea she was your daughter, though."
Miriam sighed.
"Yes. By God, I miss her. Deirdre, we will not let this Planet die. That I swear. For too long I have stood by, silent for fear. I have heard you speak of the environment so many times, but it was too easy to shrug it off as prattle. That is my sin, Deirdre. I allowed my desire to spread the Word to corrupt me. In order to get my opinions listened to, I had to ignore your own."
Deirdre nodded.
"I know, Miriam. It doesn't matter now, anyway."
Miriam glared.
"It does matter. Everything matters, Deirdre. The fate of this new world hangs on a thread, and already I have endangered it with my weakness."
Deirdre smiled.
"No, Miriam. Only a person strong in the Holy Spirit could have remained true to God all these years. I envy you that."
Miriam laughed.
"A thought just struck me. All these years, we have watched each others' causes, both wishing we could support each other, but too fearful to do so. We should have been natural allies, not undeclared enemies."
Deirdre sighed.
"Yes well, Zakharov has much to answer for."
Miriam nodded.
"Aye. He does. Forgive me, Deirdre, but I have Mass to attend. You are welcome to join, if you wish. I will not pressure you."
Deirdre smiled.
"Yes. It has been far too long. When will Morgan and Lal be arriving?"
Miriam glanced upwards, at a towering grandfather clock. The combination of Victorian, Roman, Tudor and modern-day architecture and art, made the catacombs fascinating to look at, almost like a step back in time. Still smiling, Deirdre entered the cathedral.
After, they ascended to the docking bay, and there they waited for about ten minutes, in pensive silence, looking up into the stormy grey sky for the arrival of Morgan and Lal. The Nevian leader would arrive with them.
Deirdre hoped that the leader would appreciate that it was not her fault she had suppressed the revolutions. She remembered, even now the argument she had had with Zakharov. Finally, he had sighed, and shown her information that clearly informed her of the terrible danger to her and her faction.
It was always the same. Someone Zakharov wanted getting rid of, so he turned to Deirdre. She would not, so he made it look as if her people were in danger, and, hey presto, everything he wanted done, was done.
"It was not your fault, Deirdre."
She nodded once, taking strength from the resolute appearance of Miriam, clad in her simple and unadorned black robes. Finally, from the sky, appeared seven huge shuttles, three bearing the Peacekeeper banner, three the Morganite banner, and the other showing the outstretched Hand of Nevus.
The gust of air made Deirdre wince, and she steeled herself to prevent a humiliating fall to the floor. All the shuttles landed, and from the middle shuttle, strode three figures. Lal wore his usual blue and white robe and turban, Morgan his finely brocaded suit. The leader of Nevus, however, wore pale brown leather, and slung across her back were high-tech weapons of the best quality.
Miriam outstretched her arms, and shouted for all to hear. "Welcome, instruments of the power of Christ. The pacifist is among us, now shall the rest of Planet unite behind her. A war will be fought, but this war will be different. This war will be a Pacifist's War."
She broke off from her exuberant declaration, and then spoke quietly. "Shall we adjourn to my quarters? I am sure we have much to discuss. Your generals can organise where your troops can station themselves. Come."
"My own forces shall arrive within the week. My air force will be stationed here, and at Acceptance. All my craft will be made available for this war, as shall the majority of my ground troops. Naval units will not be at all useful here, so mine will remain based at New Island, patrolling against a University invasion into my territory."
Miriam nodded. "Very good. How many troops and aircraft, and what models?"
Deirdre smiled.
"Advanced aircraft, probably the best on Planet. Stealth technology, Anti- aircraft, air-to-ground and air-to-air missiles. Pretty much any aircraft, for any situation. Although all are superior models, most of my aircraft rely on speed and secrecy in order to function at their best ability. My Hawks, however. Nothing can match them in the skies, except for sheer numbers. There should be a hundred-thousand lesser aircraft, and about ten- thousand Hawks. My green factories have been working at their maximum output levels."
Morgan asked: "And your ground forces?"
Deirdre continued. "Thirteen million with typical plasma armour and hand- held chaos guns. Seven hundred thousand tanks with heavy probability sheathes, and singularity guns. A thousand, heavy artillery. Their weaponry varies: from impact, to singularity. I have to say that my artillery is not exactly the forte of my faction."
Miriam smiled, supporting, and then looked at Lal. "What about you?"
Lal shrugged.
"My faction is used to peace, and fortunately, have not experienced such horrors as the Gaian faction. We have kept our defence spending low, and so I can bring little to this war. I have perhaps three thousand aircraft, at an extremely inferior tech-level. My ground forces are almost entirely defensive, numbering two million men, one hundred thousand tanks, and three- hundred artillery pieces. However, I do have the Peace Guard, which consists of a million men, with the most advanced weaponry and armour available."
Miriam sighed. "Well, hopefully, with time, your factories can be set at full output. Morgan?"
Morgan stood.
"My major contribution to this war will be one of energy, but I am not without my defences. All my tele-broadcasting satellites will be made available for communication, which means I can speak directly to the commander of every division in every one of our factions. About a hundred satellites were launched as soon as I heard of the attack on Memory of Earth, and so we have a very advanced orbital defence system, for every one of our bases. Other than that, I have about a thousand aircraft, a few hundred tanks, seventy artillery pieces, and a million men. However, within a month, I can treble these numbers, and I can keep on trebling until my armies number the largest on Planet."
Miriam nodded.
"It is not military might that we expect from you, Morgan. Defence, communication, and wealth are what we need."
She glanced around the room.
"My manner may seem offending to the rest of you, but the time is set against us, and we need to organise our defence well. You have all deferred to me, as the war will be fought on my own territory. This means I have the final say as to what course of action we take, unless all four of you vote against it."
Waiting for them all to nod, she said finally:
"Right. Imala, your turn."
The leather-clad leader of Nevus stood, and looked towards Deirdre. "First of all, I would like to extend the forgiveness of my faction to the Gaian Leader, and I hope that we can learn to grow together in peace." She coughed, and then assumed the voice of an orator.
"My warriors number only a hundred thousand, but they are expert assassins and spies. Give us a task, command us to infiltrate any base, and we will do it. The Hunter-Seeker Algorithm itself it no match for us. Our thoughts are trained from an early age to outwit machines and humans. Give us the word, and we shall tear into the University, sabotaging and wreaking havoc and destruction."
She placed her hands on the surface of the table. "High Nevus, our first and only base can be found in the deeps of the Monsoon Jungle. For years, Morgan and Miriam have kept our existence a secret, making the world think we were still functioning within University bases and territory. That is far from the truth. Already, my small air corps raids University installations, and kamikaze probe teams are attempting to disrupt their supply lines."
She sat down, as abruptly as she had stood. Her hair was black, and her skin was half-caste. A very fit, beautiful, and athletic woman, who certainly looked the part of a wanted terrorist. Deirdre now wondered how much of what she had heard was true. Sighing, she shrugged. It didn't really matter, anyway. In war, allies had to trust each other implicitly, and already, Deirdre found herself liking this rough, seemingly uncomplicated woman.
Miriam stood, and fixed each one of them individually with her eyes.
"My armies are vast. Fifty-million men and women march under the Cross. Twenty-five thousand aircraft can be launched into the sky. Unfortunately, we have little artillery, perhaps fifty pieces, and even fewer tanks. Our factories are hard-pressed as it is, and so that is my limit. Fifty-million soldiers sounds impressive, but almost all of them wear little more than plasma armour, and only a thousand of my warriors carry anything more powerful than Gatling lasers. Nevertheless, the power of the Lord shall infuse each one of us, and we shall shatter the forces of the infidels. This I swear, by the blood of the Lord himself."
Deirdre sighed. There was now no way back. War was coming, and when it did, it would be bloodthirsty and violent. For once, Deirdre had few misgivings. Whatever came of this war, she knew it was justified, and she knew she was not being manipulated, or led. It felt good to be right.
Deirdre was surprised when she entered the abode of Miriam in New Jerusalem. From the outside, the entire city looked ugly, almost a wart on the landscape of planet. Great iron towers, looking like age-old battleships from ancient Earth. An immense crucifix had been placed in the centre of the city, on a blackened, charred hill. Calvary Memorial, it had been called, and underneath this scarred hill, Miriam lived, in her cavernous catacombs.
Everything was designed to remind the Believers of the commitment of the Lord to his holy cause, and of the suffering of he and his followers. The catacombs were designed to relate to the times when Christianity was newly emerging, and the persecution of their religion by the Roman Empire had reached its peak. Deirdre remembered reading from the data links once, about a particular party of the Emperor Nero. Christians had been used a torches to light the festivities.
Hopefully, she and Miriam could prevent the same happening under Zakharov.
The ceilings of the caves under the hill were encrusted with blood-red crystals, dyed that colour by the simplistic Believer machines. Blood to inform anyone that entered of the sacrifice that the Christian faith had been built on. Deirdre felt uplifted now. For years Deirdre had been empty to her faith, convinced that it was only a human expression of hope of life after death, controlled by human laws and regulations.
Now that her faith had experienced a powerful resurgence, she found it easier to accept her faults. Before, there had been no chance of redemption, no second chance at a greater life. Now though it was different. She had someone to turn to, no matter how grave the problem, someone that would listen whatever the circumstances. Christ and his love were unconditional.
The Sister of the Believers turned to her. "You should have visited here before now, Deirdre. I sense that your soul needs healing that only the Lord can provide. You remind me so much of my own daughter, Deirdre."
Deirdre closed her eyes, feeling a sympathetic wave of pity. "I don't know how you managed, Miriam. Leaving your children and husband on Earth. I could never have done it, and I have always admired you for it."
Miriam nodded. "I thank you, but I will take no praise for my act. God called me, and I had to answer, but it was the most difficult thing in my life to do. I am a better person for it, but still, my soul feels shame when I remember her face."
Deirdre sighed.
"How do I remind you of her, Miriam?"
Miriam shrugged.
"I- I am not sure. It is difficult to explain, Deirdre, but she was always so exuberant, so full of happiness. She was clever, extremely so, and she had exactly the same fascination with plants as you did. She worked in Bioresearch for a time. You may remember her. I think she was with you in White Plains."
Deirdre frowned, and then nodded. "Yes, I remember. She was a quiet girl who was contemplative and innocent. I saw her in the Church a few times. Yes. I had no idea she was your daughter, though."
Miriam sighed.
"Yes. By God, I miss her. Deirdre, we will not let this Planet die. That I swear. For too long I have stood by, silent for fear. I have heard you speak of the environment so many times, but it was too easy to shrug it off as prattle. That is my sin, Deirdre. I allowed my desire to spread the Word to corrupt me. In order to get my opinions listened to, I had to ignore your own."
Deirdre nodded.
"I know, Miriam. It doesn't matter now, anyway."
Miriam glared.
"It does matter. Everything matters, Deirdre. The fate of this new world hangs on a thread, and already I have endangered it with my weakness."
Deirdre smiled.
"No, Miriam. Only a person strong in the Holy Spirit could have remained true to God all these years. I envy you that."
Miriam laughed.
"A thought just struck me. All these years, we have watched each others' causes, both wishing we could support each other, but too fearful to do so. We should have been natural allies, not undeclared enemies."
Deirdre sighed.
"Yes well, Zakharov has much to answer for."
Miriam nodded.
"Aye. He does. Forgive me, Deirdre, but I have Mass to attend. You are welcome to join, if you wish. I will not pressure you."
Deirdre smiled.
"Yes. It has been far too long. When will Morgan and Lal be arriving?"
Miriam glanced upwards, at a towering grandfather clock. The combination of Victorian, Roman, Tudor and modern-day architecture and art, made the catacombs fascinating to look at, almost like a step back in time. Still smiling, Deirdre entered the cathedral.
After, they ascended to the docking bay, and there they waited for about ten minutes, in pensive silence, looking up into the stormy grey sky for the arrival of Morgan and Lal. The Nevian leader would arrive with them.
Deirdre hoped that the leader would appreciate that it was not her fault she had suppressed the revolutions. She remembered, even now the argument she had had with Zakharov. Finally, he had sighed, and shown her information that clearly informed her of the terrible danger to her and her faction.
It was always the same. Someone Zakharov wanted getting rid of, so he turned to Deirdre. She would not, so he made it look as if her people were in danger, and, hey presto, everything he wanted done, was done.
"It was not your fault, Deirdre."
She nodded once, taking strength from the resolute appearance of Miriam, clad in her simple and unadorned black robes. Finally, from the sky, appeared seven huge shuttles, three bearing the Peacekeeper banner, three the Morganite banner, and the other showing the outstretched Hand of Nevus.
The gust of air made Deirdre wince, and she steeled herself to prevent a humiliating fall to the floor. All the shuttles landed, and from the middle shuttle, strode three figures. Lal wore his usual blue and white robe and turban, Morgan his finely brocaded suit. The leader of Nevus, however, wore pale brown leather, and slung across her back were high-tech weapons of the best quality.
Miriam outstretched her arms, and shouted for all to hear. "Welcome, instruments of the power of Christ. The pacifist is among us, now shall the rest of Planet unite behind her. A war will be fought, but this war will be different. This war will be a Pacifist's War."
She broke off from her exuberant declaration, and then spoke quietly. "Shall we adjourn to my quarters? I am sure we have much to discuss. Your generals can organise where your troops can station themselves. Come."
"My own forces shall arrive within the week. My air force will be stationed here, and at Acceptance. All my craft will be made available for this war, as shall the majority of my ground troops. Naval units will not be at all useful here, so mine will remain based at New Island, patrolling against a University invasion into my territory."
Miriam nodded. "Very good. How many troops and aircraft, and what models?"
Deirdre smiled.
"Advanced aircraft, probably the best on Planet. Stealth technology, Anti- aircraft, air-to-ground and air-to-air missiles. Pretty much any aircraft, for any situation. Although all are superior models, most of my aircraft rely on speed and secrecy in order to function at their best ability. My Hawks, however. Nothing can match them in the skies, except for sheer numbers. There should be a hundred-thousand lesser aircraft, and about ten- thousand Hawks. My green factories have been working at their maximum output levels."
Morgan asked: "And your ground forces?"
Deirdre continued. "Thirteen million with typical plasma armour and hand- held chaos guns. Seven hundred thousand tanks with heavy probability sheathes, and singularity guns. A thousand, heavy artillery. Their weaponry varies: from impact, to singularity. I have to say that my artillery is not exactly the forte of my faction."
Miriam smiled, supporting, and then looked at Lal. "What about you?"
Lal shrugged.
"My faction is used to peace, and fortunately, have not experienced such horrors as the Gaian faction. We have kept our defence spending low, and so I can bring little to this war. I have perhaps three thousand aircraft, at an extremely inferior tech-level. My ground forces are almost entirely defensive, numbering two million men, one hundred thousand tanks, and three- hundred artillery pieces. However, I do have the Peace Guard, which consists of a million men, with the most advanced weaponry and armour available."
Miriam sighed. "Well, hopefully, with time, your factories can be set at full output. Morgan?"
Morgan stood.
"My major contribution to this war will be one of energy, but I am not without my defences. All my tele-broadcasting satellites will be made available for communication, which means I can speak directly to the commander of every division in every one of our factions. About a hundred satellites were launched as soon as I heard of the attack on Memory of Earth, and so we have a very advanced orbital defence system, for every one of our bases. Other than that, I have about a thousand aircraft, a few hundred tanks, seventy artillery pieces, and a million men. However, within a month, I can treble these numbers, and I can keep on trebling until my armies number the largest on Planet."
Miriam nodded.
"It is not military might that we expect from you, Morgan. Defence, communication, and wealth are what we need."
She glanced around the room.
"My manner may seem offending to the rest of you, but the time is set against us, and we need to organise our defence well. You have all deferred to me, as the war will be fought on my own territory. This means I have the final say as to what course of action we take, unless all four of you vote against it."
Waiting for them all to nod, she said finally:
"Right. Imala, your turn."
The leather-clad leader of Nevus stood, and looked towards Deirdre. "First of all, I would like to extend the forgiveness of my faction to the Gaian Leader, and I hope that we can learn to grow together in peace." She coughed, and then assumed the voice of an orator.
"My warriors number only a hundred thousand, but they are expert assassins and spies. Give us a task, command us to infiltrate any base, and we will do it. The Hunter-Seeker Algorithm itself it no match for us. Our thoughts are trained from an early age to outwit machines and humans. Give us the word, and we shall tear into the University, sabotaging and wreaking havoc and destruction."
She placed her hands on the surface of the table. "High Nevus, our first and only base can be found in the deeps of the Monsoon Jungle. For years, Morgan and Miriam have kept our existence a secret, making the world think we were still functioning within University bases and territory. That is far from the truth. Already, my small air corps raids University installations, and kamikaze probe teams are attempting to disrupt their supply lines."
She sat down, as abruptly as she had stood. Her hair was black, and her skin was half-caste. A very fit, beautiful, and athletic woman, who certainly looked the part of a wanted terrorist. Deirdre now wondered how much of what she had heard was true. Sighing, she shrugged. It didn't really matter, anyway. In war, allies had to trust each other implicitly, and already, Deirdre found herself liking this rough, seemingly uncomplicated woman.
Miriam stood, and fixed each one of them individually with her eyes.
"My armies are vast. Fifty-million men and women march under the Cross. Twenty-five thousand aircraft can be launched into the sky. Unfortunately, we have little artillery, perhaps fifty pieces, and even fewer tanks. Our factories are hard-pressed as it is, and so that is my limit. Fifty-million soldiers sounds impressive, but almost all of them wear little more than plasma armour, and only a thousand of my warriors carry anything more powerful than Gatling lasers. Nevertheless, the power of the Lord shall infuse each one of us, and we shall shatter the forces of the infidels. This I swear, by the blood of the Lord himself."
Deirdre sighed. There was now no way back. War was coming, and when it did, it would be bloodthirsty and violent. For once, Deirdre had few misgivings. Whatever came of this war, she knew it was justified, and she knew she was not being manipulated, or led. It felt good to be right.
