Shedding the Demon (4 page)

Damon turned and fled from the room. When he closed the door
behind him, he let out a huge sigh of relief.

Kyndra's soaking tears! Now what am I supposed to do?
He wondered as he realized that the good life as he had known it was now over.

 

Renard Trueblood sat in his large
ornate chair and listened as the last notes slowly faded from the giant,
archaic pipe organ. He marveled at its size, beauty, and musical quality as he
had so many times before. He always felt that it sounded much better than a
high-tech substitute. He looked down to the gathered congregation standing
below, awaiting his sermon.

For the third time today he approached the pulpit to deliver
a message borrowed from another he had written decades prior.
Crowd is even
smaller now than earlier today.
His mouth involuntarily drew into a thin
line as he estimated a mere twenty to twenty-five thousand in attendance.

“Our Mother watches over us . . .” he intoned the
ritual opening in a deep resonant voice he liked to think matched well with the
organ.

“SHE IS KIND” the congregation replied.

“She provides for our needs . . .” he continued.

“SHE IS GENEROUS” they dutifully added.

“She laughs with our happiness . . .”

“SHE IS JOYFUL.”

“. . . and She cries with our sorrows
. . .”

“SHE IS CARING.”

“She will always protect us . . .”

“SHE IS VIGILANT.”

“. . . and She will bring us to eternal happiness.”

“SHE IS LOVE.”

“You may be seated.” Renard waited for the rustling of
twenty thousand people to quiet as they took their seats. He rearranged the
sleeves on his robe and made a ritual display of opening the huge,
leather-bound and metal-strapped copy of The Chronicle. He didn't actually read
from the book, but he acted as if it gave him inspiration. He scanned his eyes
over the random page in front of him, giving the illusion of reading.

“Bear with me good people, while I present a short history
lesson.” He paused meaningfully. “I promise, it will be short,” he added
conspiratorially with a smile.

The congregation laughed politely.

“Our Good Mother, Kyndra Dickson,” he made a ritual motion
of his right hand to his heart and bowing his head slightly, and the
congregation rustled again as they imitated the motion, “came to us in our time
of need over nine hundred years ago. She came to a budding society that was
just beginning its foray to new worlds. There were only The Five, then, and
they were in disarray. They squabbled amongst themselves and the new society
was on the brink of collapse before it had even begun.

“Then Kyndra,” again he made the ritual motion, “descended
from heaven to lead the human race into their destiny and began the Consensus
as we know it. And today it encompasses thousands of star systems with its
order and benevolence,” he paused and change the timbre of his voice to convey
dread and danger.

“However, many have forgotten these simple truths. They have
forgotten that we owe our prosperity and happiness to the Good Mother. They
have forgotten the tenets of good citizenship, they have forgotten how to care
for one another. Rather, they live to satisfy their own desires at the expense
of others. Today,
Kyndra's tears
soak the downtrodden where they are mired
in the neglect of the people who no longer remember their own history!”

The sermon continued for twenty-three more minutes to end
the service promptly on time. Renard made blessing motions over the
congregation as they filed past him on their way out. This was the last service
today, and he was anxious to get on to his other business.

Once all the people had left he turned and walked quickly to
his office behind the altar. Waiting inside, as always, was the ever-faithful
Jeffrey Allen. He smiled at his long-time assistant and friend.

“Nice sermon, Renard,” Jeffrey smiled and made a slight bow.

“Funny. Did you notice the numbers were down again today?”

It was a rhetorical question, since Jeffrey always checked
the numbers during the service. He answered anyway, “Yes, the numbers are down.
They have been consistently declining for almost a year now. We could consider
doing only two services a day.”

Renard made a disgusted sound, “We can't make such an
obvious admission, it would merely accelerate the decline.”

They'd had this same conversation many times lately, but
they kept repeating it anyway, secretly hoping a new idea would arise. Renard
sighed and began removing his robe and accoutrements. In a few minutes he was
done and dressed in a casual suit. Tall and lean, he looked the part of
successful businessman. His hair showed some gray, by his choice, even though
it was not the current style.

“Any last minute information on the meeting?” he asked
Jeffrey as he worked on his tie.

“Well, yes, there is.” He picked up his screen and tapped it
to open the files he had prepared. He had been waiting for the invitation to
brief his boss. “Avelina is going to be there.” He waited for Renard's
reaction, glancing up from his screen. Seeing nothing, he looked down and
continued, “She will be reporting on the Human Implanted Enhancement program.
Apparently she's ready to go live, so to speak.”

Renard stopped working on his tie and turned to look at his
friend. “Are you guessing, or do you know something?”

“The only thing I know for sure is that she will be there.
Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he lied as he turned back to the mirror to finish his
tie. “I haven't seen our favorite pupil in . . .”

“Almost two years,” Jeffrey finished.

“And she has something to show for her—how many years of
research?”

“She's been working on the implantation program for ten
years; ever since she developed D-SAP.”

Renard chuckled and said, “Oh yes, D-SAP, the greatest
invention to never be used for anything! I believe it's her claim to fame, is
it not?”

Jeffrey seemed slightly irritated, “The material performs
exactly to specification.”

“Yes, possibly, but it can't be
used
for anything.”

“I believe she may have fixed that,” Jeffrey said, sounding
every bit like he was defending Dr. Baksa.

“Well, I have faith in her. We certainly put a lot of time
and effort into her education and upbringing. I’ve always had the highest hopes
for her, and we could really use some help in keeping Pryke under control.”

They walked together down the hall, Jeffrey reading from his
screen and reviewing important facts with Renard. They were an effective team
and had been working together since the day Renard took over as Chairman of the
Council more than forty years ago. After a few minutes of walking, they entered
the ship that would take them to the meeting. It was small but luxurious, and the two men sat facing each other in comfortable arm chairs with a
small table between them.

The ship accelerated smoothly, giving little indication of
motion. There was a deep thrumming sound that was felt more than heard, but
otherwise the ship’s Kline Drive was silent, which allowed the men to discuss
their plans in quiet conversation.

 

**** ****

 

Dr. Avelina Baksa looked out the
window of her own private ship, alone in the passenger cabin. Her long-time
friends, Conn and Veradisia, maintained and piloted the craft, but mostly left
her to herself. She had a marvelous view of the system's gas giant with its
multi-colored bands and its dramatic rings. Two of the planet's moons were also
visible, one in a beautiful pale blue and the other an angry, shocking red. All
in all it was a breathtaking view, and Avelina soaked it in.

She daydreamed about travel and carefree living, but the
illusion didn't last. Her smile faded as she realized that she was fooling
herself. She spent so much time in the lab because that is what she liked to
do. It was what she lived for.

She’d been working toward this day and this presentation her
entire life, although she didn’t know it when she started down this path. The
importance of this moment triggered reminiscence of the long road she traveled
to get here.

Her most poignant memories began when they pulled her out of
the regular classes in her secondary school. Despite their assurances that she
was special and required personalized attention, she was young and missed her friends.
From that point on, her entire life consisted of study, research, and religion,
with no time for social activities. That was when she first met Reverend
Trueblood, and she still felt awed by him to this day.

She remembered walking into the lab with a fresh doctorate,
big ideas, and no clue how to make them happen. In an unusual display of
support for a single scientist, the Kyndraist Church set her up in her own lab,
and her research began in earnest.

Most vivid in her memory was the day she presented D-SAP to
the Council. She started the day ecstatic and barely able to contain her
enthusiasm, but before it was over she felt that her life was in shambles.

The Council, of course, wanted results, but their idea of
results was more specific than her own. To her, the actual creation of the “impossible”
material was a victory in itself. However, the Council (and Reverend Trueblood
specifically, a particularly painful memory) wanted an application of the
compound, not just a discovery.

Finally, nearly ten years later, she was ready to give them
their application. She knew that they would be shocked. It was much bigger and far
more effective than they could ever imagine. This would finally give Reverend
Trueblood, the Church, and the Council what they needed to ensure Kyndra’s
peace throughout the Consensus.

Avelina looked out the window again and let contentment flow
over her.

 

**** ****

 

Alexander Pryke adjusted his tie and
finished his drink. The pilot had just announced that they were on final
approach to the meeting place for the Council, and he was eager to arrive. He
knew something big was going to be announced but he had no idea what it was. He
chafed at the fact that the four other Council members still considered him a
second-rate newcomer to their circle. They didn't communicate with him the same
way they did with each other and he often found himself in the dark about major
decisions or policies.

“Mr. Pryke, sir,” one of his men said, stepping into his
office.

“Yes, yes, what is it?”

“We just found out that Dr. Baksa will be at the meeting,
sir.”

Alexander looked perplexed and replied, “What? Why is she here?”

“Well, sir, we don’t know, but if she's coming in person,
she must have something big to present.”

“Ha! I bet.” Alexander didn't think much of the official
Council Research Division. Other than controlling the dissemination of current
technology and preventing unauthorized research, he thought they were useless.
Their direct ties with the Kyndraist Church made him uneasy, since it gave
control to the Truebloods.

“Why are we just finding out now? We’re there in what, five
minutes? Don't we have better intelligence than that?”

The man stammered an incoherent reply.

“Oh never mind,” Alexander said irritably, “is that all
you've got?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then get out.”

This is ridiculous!
He told himself over and over.
His anger was ratcheting up as he contemplated how to make a change in the
state of affairs.
I will not be trivialized by these . . . these
. . . politicians! I've worked too hard and overcome much bigger men,
I will not allow them to stop me. I can’t take them head-on. I need a big
game-changer, or at least
something
I can use!

Alexander looked at his screen sitting on the table in front
of him. It had the latest intelligence on each of the four other Council
members, but he had found nothing new on any of them. He tapped a few icons to
run a search on Dr. Baksa so he wouldn’t go into the meeting unprepared.

Today's announcement had better be good.
He didn't
actually believe that the CRD could produce anything useful, but he was
determined to find some method to change the status quo. If there was anything
that Alexander Pryke could not abide, it was the “status quo.”

He looked outside, but his thoughts were focused inward as
he struggled to develop a plan. He needed more information.

He never even noticed the beauty of the gas giant as it slid
silently past his window.

 

 

An hour later, Alexander sat at the
meeting table and steamed. He and three other members of the Council were
already present, but of course Trueblood had not yet appeared. Alexander looked
around the room at the others, reviewing what he knew about each one, futilely
searching for something he might use against them.

Together, the other three represented the greatest
discoveries in the history of mankind. They traced their family histories back
to the original Earth and the Big-Five colony worlds that started it all. Of
course some of their familial claims were dubious and contested, but they held
the wealth and power nonetheless.

It all began with the Yeboah twins, Jamila and Kamau, who
discovered the method for creating wormholes and developed most of the physics
surrounding them. Despite their socialist beliefs that led them to give away
the technology, their dynasty continued to this day, represented by Stacey
Magourik. She was tall and stately with beautiful dark skin and hair. Alexander
hated her and her haughty attitude.