Ellie Quin Episode 5: A Girl Reborn (2 page)

‘The prophet…that is the girl we are attempting to find?’

Deacon nodded. ‘Exactly. Ellie Quin. The Rebornists, or more precisely, the extremist faction of their faith,
The Awoken
, appear to be utterly convinced that this girl is their final and greatest prophet.’

‘Why her, Deacon?’

‘Why indeed, Lenny. Very good question.’

Leonard smiled gratefully, like a dog, pitifully intent on pleasing his master. ‘There must be a reason why they think this girl is their prophet?’

Deacon shrugged. ‘Who knows why any particular individual ends up considered great, divine,
sacred
. Simple chance maybe? A random combination of coincidences? Why does one random, anonymous person suddenly become spectacularly famous, and another equally deserving person remain unknown?’

Leonard’s eyes lit up. ‘Just like that Betsy Boomalakah?’

Deacon sighed. On this crappy, provincial planet, Harpers Reach, in fact, throughout this whole damned system, everyone seemed to be humming the same wretched brain-dead tune…sung by a squeaky-voiced teenager who’d come from obscurity. Leonard was right, there were perhaps some similarities between her and this Ellie Quin. Both were teenaged girls with nothing outwardly remarkable about them. Both suddenly, catapulted into the lime-light. And both appeared to be equally bewildered by the whole experience.

‘Except, only the Awoken know Ellie’s name.’

‘And Professor Edward Mason.’

‘Yes, Lenny…and Mason.’

He looked around at the evidence they’d collected from the terrorist cells' safe house in that abandoned block in New Haven. There'd been images of Ellie from a freshly tube-grown and delivered baby, to a young girl with freckles and pigtails, helping her father on his oxygen farm and visiting a farmer’s fair with her younger brother and sister. There were pictures of her as a teenager, her face now less prone to spontaneous gap-toothed smiles, but instead like a locked door, a kid deep in thought. And pictures taken by the young Awoken agent who had posed as her close friend…the first signs in those images, of her growing up, maturing from childish cares and interests and becoming a young adult.

In those latter images, Ellie Quin yet looked so young for her years. Her hair cropped short like a boy, her expression thoughtful and faraway.

Mason meddled with your mind, didn
’
t he, Ellie? Created a child with an unquenchable curiosity, a burning nomadic desire to never stay put. To never stay still. To never be content. To never be happy. What a poor tormented creature you must be
.

Deacon was certain Mason must have been involved with the Awoken from the very start of his project. More than that, Deacon was certain that the insane old fool wasn’t even dead; that he’d faked the crash and his disappearance back
on Pacifica so he could make his way here to Harper’s Reach in order to watch over the girl as she matured and became ready for….whatever goal Mason and his terrorist friends had in mind.

Ellie was Mason’s Frankenstein creation. He’d designed her DNA from the ground up. Created this girl with her unknown purpose. Frankly, the least worrying scenario was that she was some grown-to-order prophet. If that was all…if she was just a girl with genetically enhanced charisma, or had a face that resembled the androgynous prophet depicted in their holy book…then that was a quantifiable problem. But Mason - he felt like he knew the old man intimately now - must have engineered something extra-special into her DNA.

Something dangerous. Something that would threaten the Administration.

If only they’d managed to catch him too when his men had zeroed-in on the cell's safe house. He must have been warned and escaped in the nick of time, that, or they’d just been unlucky and the man had been out on some errand at the time.

Capturing Mason would have been almost as good as capturing her. If anyone knew where she’d gone to ground, if anyone in Human Space knew where she was hiding right now, it would be that crazy son-of-a-bitch.

More to the point…Mason would be coerced to tell him what genetic time bomb was waiting to go off inside her.

CHAPTER 3

Mason looked up at the walls of the small meditation room of the Rebornist Prayer Hall. There were only half a dozen such places dotted around the poorer lower-street neighbourhoods in New Haven.

Not a particularly religious city
…
this one
.

The Prayer Hall was little more than half a dozen habicubes bolted together, the floor of the top ones and the ceiling of the bottom ones removed to create a higher, ‘grander’ ceiling. The cold, corrugate carbosteel, walls were adorned with the yellow and amber prayer robes of the Rebornist faith. More discreetly, in places that could be concealed at a moment’s warning, was the symbol of the coming prophet; the silhouette of the androgynous spread-eagled figure, arms spread wide, legs parted and straight.

The symbol for the Awoken.

This was the only Prayer Hall in the city he knew of that had a direct link to the group. The only haven he could turn to now that their safe-house had been raided by the Administration.

That had been an unmitigated disaster. He could so easily have been caught in the raid. He’d stepped out of the abandoned apartment block to stretch his legs, to walk the crowded streets and think about his next move - how the hell he was going to get off Harpers Reach and follow her to GateWay. He’d been gone only ten, fifteen minutes and returned to find the Colonial Marines had locked down the entire area, their command and control ships hovering around the tower block as troops flooded inside and carnage raged within.

How did the hell did they find us? More to the point
…
how had they found out about
her
? He could only guess he must have left some clue behind. When he’d 'died' and dropped off the radar, he must have stupidly left something that had ultimately led them here.

‘Teacher?’

Mason stirred from his thoughts and looked up at the earnest man hovering over him. A young brother-initiate. ‘Yes?’

‘This…this is…very difficult.’ He looked uncomfortable, like an errand boy sent to do someone else’s dirty work.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘The Hall elders….they know you are with the…’ he nodded towards one of the small symbols on the wall, not willing even to say the word 'Awoken'. ‘They ask that you…’

‘Leave?’

The young man nodded, crimson blotches of shame on his pale cheeks.

Mason shook his head and tutted. ‘They hang the prophet’s image in here…and yet they can’t even offer me sanctuary?’

‘They are worried about harbouring…a-’

‘A terrorist?’

The brother’s pale cheeks turned a darker, blotchy, shade of pink.

‘You tell them I’ve got no other place to go. I need to hide here for now. I need to establish contact with my colleagues.’

‘The elders, they…they do not wish to attract the Administration's atten-’

‘Listen!’ Mason got up off his knees slowly. ‘Listen to me very closely young man…’ He glared at the brother-initiate. He could see the shame written across his face; shame, and
disgust
with his Hall's elders for their cowardice. Their lack of conviction. Their hypocrisy.

The brother-initiate reminded Mason of the young man who had masqueraded as Ellie’s friend, an earnest idealist; youthful energy looking for a cause to fight for, to seek martyrdom for.

He could understand the elders’ reticence. The Administration tolerated the Rebornist faith largely because it was too widespread to consider outlawing it, but also because it preached peace and forgiveness. As far as the Administration were concerned if it kept countless billions of citizens quiet and content as they patiently awaited the never-going-to-happen arrival of their Final Prophet, well, that was just fine with them.

The Awoken, on the other hand…they were a problem.

Mason played the only card he was holding. A threat. ‘Tell your elders…it is their
sworn duty
to help me. And they
will
do this…or I’ll arrange for some of my colleagues to pay each of them a visit and teach them a harsh lesson about duty.’

The lad's eyes rounded. His lips widened with the hint of a smile. ‘Yes…y-yes of course I will, Teacher, I will tell them that.’

‘You tell them…they are obliged provide me safe haven. Or an example will be made of them.’

Mason watched him turn and go, leaving him alone once more in the Prayer Hall. It was quiet now, save for the softly playing endless loop of sung prayer, and the dulled sound of New Haven’s busy streets beyond the thin habicube walls.

He settled back down on the prayer mat and knelt before the altar. To any casual observer, he would appear a pious man in silent communion with God. But in truth, Mason wasn’t wasting his breath or time with
prayer
. He sighed at their primitive superstitions. There was no Great God out there listening to the faithful's prayers, granting or denying wishes like a genie. The universe was largely cold, black and soulless.

Instead of praying. he was quietly contemplating his next move. And thinking about
her
. Wondering where she was, wondering whether she was safe. Wondering if she understood yet how incredibly important she was.

OMNIPEDIA:

[Human Universe open source digital encyclopedia]

Article: Old Earth Religions (By Flynn Wurterman. Aged 9)

The main religious beliefs on Earth before the development of between-system portal transport (often referred to as the pre-colonial period) were numerous. There were hundreds. The most widespred faiths were the Islambic, the Kirstians, and the Jewes. They all believed in a boss called God. God made everything in the universe and an extra-specially nice place called Heven where all the best-behaved people could go after they die.

These main religions had a BIG problem with each other though, because they didn’t agree on what God’s correct name was or what heven was like, or on which people would be allowed into Haven when they died.

There were loads of wars on Old Earth long before the colonial era over these things. The most famous of those wars were The Crusades, where the Kirstians and the Islamics fought over who should control a city called Joosalem, because, apparently, there were very holy things buried underneath it. The other famous religious wars were between two sub-groups of Kirstians called the Catalysts and the Protestants, they fought over whether God or his son, Jesus, were the most important person to worship. And, another war, called The Schism, which
happened between two groups of Islambics over who’s method of worship was the best one.

Many people died in these wars and horrible things were done.

And no one was right. Or wrong. And no one really won.

User Comment > Dr Plop

I read this article and laugh out loud at the historical errors. Then I looked at the header and realised a kid had written it. I think this article should be taken down. Omnipedia is meant to be an accurate knowledge source, not a place for stupid kids to put up their homework assignments!!!

User Comment
>
Dobber78894

The historical errors withstanding, I think the author of this article makes some pretty salient points. No one wins when it comes to discussions on faith. It’s circular ‘logic’ that inevitably leads to be people being killed.

User Comment > JacobTheFrugg

To the total turd-brain above. Dr Plop. Omnipedia is for everyone to use!! Even kids!!

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CHAPTER 4

‘Mother?’

The holoscreen in front of Ellie flickered and the computer system’s cartoon avatar appeared; a kindly-looking old lady with silver hair in a bun and round framed spectacles perched on a small snub nose. Beady black eyes peered inquisitvely at her over the top of the rimless frames.

‘Yes, Ellie? How may I help you?’

Mother’s manner seemed so compellingly human, despite her crude cartoon charicature. It felt odd talking to an operating system that looked and sounded like someone’s lovely old granny. ‘I…just wanted to check with you on something.’

‘What exactly would you like to check on, Ellie?’

‘Shelby…he mentioned something about an automated shuttle?’ She was desperately hoping that Shelby hadn’t made that up. If he’d actually lied to her about the shuttle…well, given what she’d discovered down below, she didn't want to think about that.

‘Yes, Ellie, this facility has an ongoing service contract with a shuttle courier company. One arrives once every system-year.’

She breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't lied to her then. ‘When’s it due?’

‘Six weeks and three days.’

‘Six weeks?!'

Mother looked over her glasses at her. ‘Are you not happy here? Is there something I can do to make your stay more agreeable?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ She felt the need to smile at the operating system. ‘You’re looking after us wonderfully.’ Six weeks. She'd blurted that out because she'd fully been expecting Mother to say six months. Six weeks she could cope with.

‘Ellie?'

'Yes, Mother?'

'Considering your raised voice, the sudden dilation of your pupils…and the big smile, I suspect you are
relieved
?'

'Yeah…I thought we were in for a much longer wait.'

'Where do you wish to go, Ellie? Where else is more welcoming than WonderWorld?'