Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One) (3 page)

The sun was setting behind them, providing the passengers
with a breath taking view of the eastern shore. The natural outcropping of wooden pillars was awash in warm light, the spiked range a beautiful contrast to the preponderant Trunk consuming the background beyond. Vejax, recognizing the moment as the start of the evening's lecture, moved down to the main deck to assume the point of view of his former self.

"The Provider exists!" Master Kilton said, his clarion voice prevailing over spirited conversation and pervasive winds.

"The Provider exists in all of us," Vejax heard himself reply as he watched the others quiet down and a settle into one of the many platforms or benches shifted around the deck.

"The Provider exists for us," a confident voice said from the opposite side of the deck, coming from a promising young Guardian named Daltera. As Vejax recalled, Daltera had been inducted
as a Guardian six years prior and was returning to Lake Arol for his first tour of duty as a trainer.

"The Provider exists to feed us," Grimlock the apprentice chimed, as huge and doltish as ever.

"Yes, Grimlock, a truism we are all reminded of by your presence alone," Kilton said with a wink, causing the group to erupt with boisterous laughter with Grimlock's guffaws heard above the rest.

The fifth child born to two of Razum City's prestigious vine Shifters, Grimlock was genetically predisposed to be large in stature. But no one
could have predicted the intimidating mound of flesh, sculpted by years of strenuous labor, now leaning contently against the ship's bow. For even though he had spent the first eight years of his adult life serving society as one of Razum's many vine Shifters—those responsible for keeping the Provider's transit system going, propelling a plethora of passenger and freight cars around the world every hour of the day—he did not shift the Source according to the niche Shifters.

Where his fellows shifted massive
vine cables across long distances from the Source found in both muscle and vine, Grimlock combined the raw brawn known to all Guardians while he shifted from the churning sea of Source welled deep within Belly Briar. Like many Guardians before him, Grimlock did not consciously mask his true nature. The power of a Guardian is like none other, a role the soul must embrace with vigor. So, as was the Provider's way, the time for his true nature to surface had arrived, forcing Grimlock to reveal his Guardian powers in order to save the ones he cared for most.

"The Provider Exists," Kilton said, resuming with the lecture. "While significant to all Citizens, we Guardians rely on this opening verse of the Citizens Creed to instill faith again and again, no matter h
ow dark the circumstances. This, my brothers and sisters, in your own personal way, will be learned in due time."

Vejax nodded in agreement to the salient message, just as he had that evening. He then studied the others and registered similar understanding
on each, except for one: Steffor. The boy looked comfortable enough, leaning into the curved stern with arms spread across the rail, but Vejax detected a discord on the young face as it turned to study the hull slicing through the water.

"Tell us apprenti
ce Steffor, how does your personal experience relate to the wisdom of Master Kilton's words?" As he heard himself pose the leading question to Steffor, the skepticism etched in his voice startled Vejax.
Did I sense something about the youth on that very first day?

Unaware or uncaring of the group
’s attention now squarely focused upon him, Steffor kept his gaze on the water for several seconds before replying. "It does not...relate that is." His steady gaze moved from Vejax to Kilton.

"Intriguing. Tell me St
effor, if not that, what, if any verse from the Citizens Creed, best relates to the awakening of your Guardian powers?" Kilton asked with genuine fascination.

"No one aspect of the Citizens Creed captures my experience, but if I had to choose it would be:
Life of a Citizen is purposeful."

"Very curious. Never in my years have I once known a Guardian to
cite that verse as their inspiration, especially young apprentices recently discovering their powers. So what do the words ‘The Provider Exists’ mean to you?"

Vejax watched Steffor intently as he pondered the question. Steffor loosely wrapped his arms around his legs folded into his chest. Appearing at first perturbed by the question, Vejax could only describe the countenance that replaced as reli
ef. According to the Mysticnet logs, Steffor took just over a minute before he replied. To Vejax, both times, it felt like an eternity.

"Questions, endless questions. Questions I have asked before I was old enough to sync with the Mystics. Questions that,
for every answer I find two more crop up in their place."

"This is the time and place for your questions...all your questions," Kilton said to the group. Everyone gave Kilton a respectful nod, grateful for the Teuton to include him or her but all were as i
nterested as he was to hear what questions the impressive youth had to ask. Kilton turned back to Steffor. "There are no bad questions here, what is it that weighs heaviest on your mind?"

"The Provider Exists, both as the world we live upon and as our crea
tor, yes?"

"That is correct."

"The Citizens Creed also tells us, through the eternal energy of life, derived directly from the Provider, that Life of a Citizen is Continuous and that as we grow, so does the Provider."

"True."

"That is where I become confused. If the Provider exists, in us, what does that make
us
? Am I, we, destined to become a tree, teaming with life spawned directly from our own energy...life that will eventually create the human animal...the vessels in which I may expand and grow? If so, was our Provider once a human like us, born on a tree planet, given a soul by
its
creator? If we are to become like the Provider, what then does the Provider become when we do? Does the Provider ascend to become a new form of existence? If so, what new form of existence does the creator of our Provider take? Where does it all—"

Steffor's last question came up short as he looked away from Kilton for the first time since starting his flurry of questions, startled by the shocked f
aces around the deck. Steffor flinched, squeezing his legs closer to his chest, but to his credit, and the first of many moments the Guardian would earn Vejax's respect, Steffor met the eye of each before turning back to the water running swiftly by the edged hull.

"Young Steffor's questions are what The Four have posed since the Day of Discovery. To question what we believe to be true is healthy for all Citizens. The truth of now empowers us and it is the very foundation of our faith. Face the morrow when
it arrives and carry from the past that which improves the present. And for the love of our creator, be patient; be active; be joyous."

"Thank you father. Please forgive us. We love you with our whole hearts." Kilton's timely words, followed by the group's
intoned prayer, thankfully broke the yoke of Steffor's thought provoking questions. The days ahead were to be dangerous, requiring the utmost concentration for all. None could afford to cloud the mind with questions that had no answers.

Vejax had looked b
ack to Steffor at that moment and, again, was unnerved by the others anticipating stare. Vejax sensed boyish relief from the other, content to let the subject drop.
He decided in that moment to shoulder the burden on his own, to keep his unique process hidden to the rest, and we were all grateful he did not share it again.

As was the case then as it was now, Vejax never gave concern to that which he did not know. Living in the present, guided by irrevocable truth, fulfilled him beyond measure. And outwardly
, Steffor lived his life the same, completing his training in less than three years, inducted as a Guardian by age fifteen.

From that moment on, Steffor manifested the ideal life of any Guardian, always being at the right place at the right time. It seemed
to Vejax, a daily Mysticnet feed without Steffor's name was more uncommon than not. Steffor was the model Guardian, always putting others before himself. If not for the joy produced by the Guardian Games, the one thing you could accuse Steffor of being selfish of was in the dive. But even there it was not hard to correlate his success to his love for everyone.

So here I am, finally forced to confront a faith of another that has manifested nothing but benevolence for the rest of the world.
A faith Vejax knew in his heart had to be flawed.

Vejax severed his link to the Mysticnet.
Steffor must see the error in his ways. His loss today, to me, to my complete faith in the Provider, is the set back Steffor requires to realize his full potential.
For once the young man aligned perfectly to the Provider, Vejax believed there would be no limitations to what his friend could achieve.

Chapter 2

Is it truly the solution, the missing and final piece? Will humanity finally advance to a new plane of consciousness?

These were the questions Stalling pondered the moment they first discovered the arboreal planet. Placing all trust into his proven intuition, he had bet everything
—his empire, his existence, his very
soul
—that the answer to all of them was a resounding YES!

So why now, in the final moments before all was revealed, did he question his judgment? A lifetime of blind faith to this sixth sense, a consistent ability to listen to and act on his inner voice, ha
d safely led Stalling to this very moment. The abrupt appearance of what others call doubt, a foreign state of mind for Stalling, was all the evidence he required to know something was not right. But what remained a mystery.

Stalling went back to studying
the three-dimensional images projected on his link visor, knowing the answers resided somewhere within the data accumulated over the years about the strange planet. Snugly encapsulated in a sphere of blue skies and white clouds, the planet's surface was a diverse canopy comprised of colossal limbs, branches, stems, leaves and vegetation. The only perceptible land mass observed from outer space formed around the equator: a greenish-brown continent that divided the planet into two distinct hemispheres.

With h
is sixth sense spinning like a clairvoyant compass, pointing to the ring of earth as the solution to his quandary, Stalling magnified his view and pulled up the latest readings on the mysterious energy that emanated from the area. Stalling pensively held his breath as he read and reread the report.
Down 1.8%? That is not possible! Unless…

"Your two o'clock is prepared to sync. Are you ready?" his assistant's purposeful voice said over the audio feed of his link visor, breaking his train of thought.

Damn it, not now!
If it were any other meeting, Stalling would have blown it off and stayed with his inquiry till a solution emerged.
But such are the times we are in; this is all part of the plan, no turning back now.

"Stalling? Are you prepared to speak with Arc
hbishop Clortison?" Margaret probed again, turning on video communications this time to appear in the left quadrant of his screen. He half met the attractive women's concerned eyes, refusing to move away from the planet’s image rotating in the center.

"Whe
n have I ever not been?" He finally replied, beaming a confident smile.

"Wonderful," she said, a genuine look of relief washing over her face. "I'll make the connection. Good luck!"

Stalling reluctantly closed the planet visual and opened 'conference room 302': a drab, window-less, medium sized room with a long rectangular table, and waited for the other participants to take their places. Within seconds, seven individuals materialized in seats on the opposite end of the table. The person seated at the head of the table directly adjacent to Stalling was the only one receiving his attention, the other six sitting to the right or left of the man having no purpose at the meeting beyond the conveyance of power; a gesture utterly wasted on Stalling.

I guess old ha
bits die hard
, Stalling thought. In reality, the sight of the Archbishop's devoted followers by his side produced the opposite of its intended purpose, always giving Stalling an unexpected but welcome boost of confidence. It was a reminder of what Stalling had become: the most adept, and longest-living, adversary the Church of Salvation had run across in its entire ancient history.

"Gentlemen," Stalling said by way of greeting to the room, his eyes never leaving the Archbishop. "Before we address the list o
f topics to be discussed on our agenda, please take a moment to sync the contract located in the corner of your right screen quadrant, ensuring this address is untraceable and will be deleted upon our completion." Each synced the document without reading, knowing full well that Stalling controlled the means to both trace and delete every address on the Auranet. Unlike their failed attempt to exude power, Stalling's gesture hit the mark.

Like any meeting hosted on the Auranet, false avatars were forbidden. A
ttendees saw in one another no more and no less than the creased hands, stained nails and mole speckled brows of their worn mortal vessels. Stalling reserved for himself the technological talent of seeing beyond each man's grey husk and into his emotional aura. This tool laid bare a current of insecurity pervading the Archbishop and his parade of sycophants, though an attentive child could see as much in the shifting eyes, timid gestures and hunched shoulders on display around the table.

Stalling reflected on all the anguish the Church of Salvation attempted to inflict on him over the years, hardening his heart for the events about to unfold. He vowed to show them mercy when victory was finally his, regardless of how little they showed hi
m and those he cared for over the past twenty-five years.

"Seeing as you requested this meeting and set the agenda of topics to discuss, I welcome your opening comments and suggestion as to how we best proceed." Despite the cavalier deliverance of the openi
ng statement, the significance of Stalling's unexpected capitulation to lead the proceedings was lost on no one. Stalling took great satisfaction in seeing the strategic move throw his adversaries off their game so early in the proceedings. He was confident the men before him, or at least their legions of lackeys, had spent every waking hour over the past month prior to this long awaited face-to-face confrontation preparing to react, to defend, to justify. Not lead.

Clortison was quick to compose himself, l
ooking indifferent as he calmly replied. "Very well. Let us start by mapping out Stage 1 of the complete and legal transfer of Alterian Enterprises to your beloved Church and province."

Though everyone in the room knew nothing discussed today would be that
simple to approach, Stalling could not suppress the impulsive rush of anger triggered by the entitled statement.
The audacity of these people! Even with them squarely in front of me, I struggle to believe they are human.

"Well, that is the root of it, isn
't gentlemen? I publicly announced I would do no such thing. What do you have to inform me of today that will change my decision?"

"Mr. Alterian," Clortison said with a snide tone that could only be made by one used to getting his way, "need we remind you
of the law that was passed by the electoral senate and ratified by the entire judicial panel over year ago today. The law, created with the sole objective of ensuring our thriving economy remains stable for generations to come, states: all privately held corporations, and their subsidiaries, providing any form of service and/or products related to or within the telecommunications industry must relinquish entire control of said services and/or products to the Drakarlean federal government."

"I am very a
ware of the law that was created solely to usurp Alterian Enterprises as the most powerful organization in the world. What is not clear, assuming we continue to not comply with your silly law, is how you intend to make us?"

"We'll jerk every last one of yo
u liberal bastards from your cozy island if we have to," Cardinal Thortizan blurted, seated to Clortison's immediate left. Stalling's defiant statement had contorted the angled features of the chiseled man into ugly curves. Clortison gave his underling a glare of disapproval but was quick to turn back to Stalling and see how he would respond.

"Military force is out the question, we both know it would result in an immediate and complete worldwide revolt," Stalling baited, fully aware the Church, if push came
to shove, would rather take on a full blown social uprising over allow Stalling to stay in his current seat of power.

"We do not share that assessment of the situation. While never pleasant for anybody, we have dealt with revolts in the past," Clortison c
ountered. No, seizing control of Alterian Enterprises by brute force was no easy feat, but no one in the room dismissed it as viable option.

Despite his intentions to provide them perceived control over the meeting, Stalling had grown weary of the game and
wanted to get back to solving problems that really mattered. Reminding himself the purpose of this meeting was to buy them just a few more precious days, long enough to complete the project, Stalling put his impatience in check and re-addressed the group with feigned enthusiasm.

"Look, let
’s put our emotions aside for a moment and identify what really matters. The impact A.E. has made on Antium is irreversible. The world has discovered a new way to communicate, learn and play and does not have the appetite or desire to turn back. Our intimate connection to and extensive database on the majority of the world's population places us in an unprecedented seat of control for any privately held company."

"Get to the point," Clortison said impatiently.

"We don't want things to get bloody any more than you do. And trust me, our issues with the law in question have nothing to do with any grandiose desires to take over the world," Stalling partially lied, selling it with a smile. "However, it does have everything to do with money. Come on guys, I know you appointed church officials aren't supposed to get caught up in all the materialistic stuff our capitalistic society promotes, but we are talking about billions here. You have got to sweeten the deal a little bit!"

"Why
? Regardless of whether or not we believe you have a desire to challenge our divine authority, your proven hunger for material wealth is justification in itself to remove your pervasive influence from the world."

Fine
, Stalling thought,
if they do not want to buy the "it’s all about greed" bit,
which he admits was even a stretch for these dolts considering all he had done to the counter
, then I'll just pull out the trump card now
. "Fair enough. But that brings us back to square one. Without the cooperation of our senior staff or me, Alterian Enterprises is worthless to you. If you still have any desire to gain control over what we have started, you have got to find some way to compromise."

The Archbishop sat up in his chair, squared his shoulders and puffed
out his round chest, looking all too eager, as if Stalling had finally triggered a trap. For the first time since entering the virtual room, the Archbishop exuded the self-assurance one would expect from a man of his status.

"We have recently been contacte
d by a member of your senior staff, a Mr. Janison Satiago. His intel was very...provocative," Clortison said, staring long and hard at Stalling as the others seated in the room tried to read Stalling's reaction.

Showing none, the Archbishop elaborated
, "Mr. Satiago is your CTO, yes? His detailed report on every piece of technology ever produced by A.E. was very revealing to say the least. Tell me Mr. Alterian, how do you think this unique tithe from one of our faithful followers will influence our mood to compromise?"

Stalling had anticipated Janison's eventual betrayal. At first, the revelation repulsed to the core but once accepted as inevitability, Stalling used its momentum to advance the ultimate objective. No, it was not the action causing his head to
swim in a swift current of doubt. It was the timing.
Why now? Why not wait until the project was completed. While Janison certainly had his own motivations, he had as much at stake in the project as the rest of us. Why risk losing it all now?

Clortison cle
ared his throat several times in attempt to engage Stalling back into the conversation. After the third failed attempt, he finally said, "Our willingness to make exceptions to the law has come to an end. We no longer possess the energy to go forward under the current conditions—"

"That's it!" Stalling shouted to the room, causing the group before him to flinch.
Not enough energy!
Stalling was frantically piecing together all the signs his instincts had been screaming at him for the past two weeks.
How could I have miscalculated?
He had little time to relish enlightenment due to the complete absence of a solution. He needed to get his team on it now; there was no time to waste.

"I am sorry gentlemen but this meeting needs to be cut short, I have more importan
t matters to attend to. Please contact my assistant with dates and times to reschedule in the coming weeks and I will prioritize the time accordingly. Best wishes." The link disconnected.

*****

Archbishop Clortison removed his link visor and glanced about the unadorned, windowless conference room. His eyes flit from face to face, registering surprise, hope, and cautious optimism. Today they saw something no one had ever seen, something he had never imagined he would see. The infallible Stalling had stumbled.