The Prophet: Birth: A Sci-Fi Thriller Read online

  “It is my deepest honor, Brothers and Sister,” Raylyn said. Four men and one woman sat before her.

  “We know that your time is precious, and the five of us are extremely thankful for the work you do. It’s you and your colleagues that keep the True Faith pure. So before we start, we would like to thank you for that as well.”

  “Again,” Raylyn said, “it is a deep honor to serve Corinth in any way I possibly can.”

  The First Priest leaned back in his chair. He was bald, as were the other four. None of Corinth’s Priests had any hair on their heads—including eyebrows or eyelashes. It gave these five an oddly alien look, as if they were creatures stemming from some distant human ancestor, but not actual humans.

  “We asked you to come here so quickly because the message we received warranted speed. It worries us, to say the least. Can you please start from the beginning?” the First Priest asked. “If we interrupt you, we apologize. We sometimes think aloud and questions pop up.”

  Raylyn nodded. “Yes, your Holiness. At approximately 9:05 on the 3rd day of the—”

  “Excuse me, Sister,” the Priestess said. “We’d all appreciate it if you’d just talk to us like we’re friends. The formality, while noted, isn’t necessary and we find that it actually inhibits communication. So, if you would just describe this to us as you would to a family member, perhaps a slow family member, that would be appreciated.”

  The other four chuckled.

  Raylyn didn’t know what to do, feeling like she might actually vomit in front of these Priests. She managed a small smile, swallowed, then started again.

  “A few days ago, we, the Prevention Division, received a tip from an informant—”

  “And that’s the regular occurrence of things, correct?” a Priest on the far end asked. “Much of your work is done on the tips of others?”

  “Yes, that’s right, your Holiness.”

  “Okay, thank you. Sorry, please continue.”

  Raylyn, for the third time, tried to explain. “The informant told us of a sect that was growing rapidly. When questioned about the length of time the sect had been active, the informant said more than 20 years. That was extremely alarming, if true, as it meant they had avoided detection for a very long time. The usual lifespan of a religious cult or sect is six months from start to finish, with us shutting them down.”

  “Sister,” the First Priest said, “what made you consider this information more reliable than other tips? It would seem to me, that if someone reported something so ludicrous, you would dismiss it.”

  “That’s very true, your Holiness. We wouldn’t technically dismiss it; we do investigate all possible infractions against Corinth, but we would try to quickly ascertain whether or not there was any truth to the matter. What concerned us from the beginning were the additional details the informant mentioned. The punishment for using terms associated with the Black is death. So, for someone to use them in a tip … it set off alarms.”

  “The Black …,” the First Priest mused. “Sister, do you know how many years have passed since It last attempted to make contact?”

  “I believe it’s been a thousand,” Raylyn said.

  “Is that right?” the First Priest looked to the person next to him. They nodded in response. “Hmmm … A thousand years. That’s a good bit of time. I’m old, but not that old. I don’t think even I was born then.” The First Priest smiled down at Raylyn. “Tell me, Sister. What do you know about what happened a thousand years ago?”

  Raylyn swallowed. She wanted to look away and gather her thoughts. Staring up at the Priest took all of her concentration, for even though he wore a smile, the sway he held over the room felt like he wielded a weapon.

  It’s only in your head, she thought. You’re scared because you’ve never been here before. Don’t look away.

  “Sister?” The First Priest asked.

  “I’m sorry, your Holiness. I was lost in thought. Do I have your permission to speak freely about the Black?”

  “Yes, of course. Speak as freely as you want in these chambers. No punishments shall be given to either you or us for voicing our opinions.”

  Raylyn nodded and then did look down. She had to, if she wanted to actually give a coherent response. Thinking about the Black took effort, because anyone born under the True Faith was taught from a young age not to discuss it. One understood it happened, and that it would probably happen again, but the words were stricken from the vocabulary for fear of it spreading.

  Flashes of what she’d learned in school came back to her.

  Something not of this universe.

  Something that only knew how to destroy.

  A creature that claimed to be God, but would kill all of mankind.

  Raylyn snapped away from the thoughts, a chill running across her arms. She didn’t even like considering what she knew.

  They’re not asking about It. They want to know about her.

  “The weapon’s name was Rachel Veritros, if I remember correctly. She rose from the Constant Ministry and her war lasted five years. I believe over half of the Constant’s population and almost all of their infrastructure was destroyed by the end.” She looked up, knowing she’d given a bare minimum, but also feeling it was far too much.

  “That’s true. Their Priest Class—they call themselves Representatives, I believe—were killed, too.” the First Priest said. “Do you know what they called her, her followers?”

  “Yes, your Holiness.”

  “What?”

  “The Prophet.”

  The First Priest nodded. “And the informant, what did they refer to this man as?”

  “The same, your Holiness.”

  “Do you know how long Veritros managed to go without detection, before her war started?”

  “No, your Holiness, I don’t,” Raylyn said.

  “She only spread her false ideas for five years.”

  The room was silent. Raylyn heard the breath leaving her nose and nothing else.

  And Raylyn knew why. Because if Veritros had done so much damage with only five years to flourish, what would 20 mean? How many would die? Could they even stop the Black at that point?

  “Sister,” the Priestess said, “do you have any other evidence that this tip may be true?”

  “We’re investigating, your Holiness, but as of now we haven’t been able to confirm anything. We wanted to bring it to your attention as soon as possible.”

  The Priestess nodded then looked to the First Priest.

  He was silent for a moment as he watched Raylyn. After another few seconds, he said, “Sister, would you please step outside and let us have a few minutes to speak amongst ourselves?”

  “Of course, your Holiness.”

  The doors shut as the Prevention Division’s representative left the Priests’ chambers.

  They were alone, yet no one spoke. They seemed to be thinking.

  Finally, the First Priest said, “It’s most likely true.”

  “Why do you think that? A millennium isn’t that long. The Black hasn’t returned that quickly before.”

  “Yes, but the time in between instances has been decreasing. The universe is encroaching on its habitat. Before Veritros, how long had it been?”

  No one needed to say the answer aloud. They all knew. The time between Veritros and the weapon before her was a little over 4,000 years.

  “It would make sense,” the Priest on the far left said. “I’m inclined to agree.”

  “And what of her?” the woman asked. “Is she the woman that’s supposed to save us?”

  The First Priest laughed. “I think not. The entire human species won’t trust their survival to her, regardless how strong her faith is. You heard her thoughts, yes? We frighten her. What do you think the Black will do?”

  “And the High Priest?” someone asked. “Do we go to him?”

  None spoke, letting seconds pass in silence.

  “Yes,” the First Priest said. “We must. I’ll handle tha
t.”

  “And what are you going to tell him?”

  “What do you think? I’m going to tell him what we were just told.”

  “And our own plan, are you going to let him know we don’t have one?”

  The First Priest closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “We do have a plan. We’re going to send that child back to her job, and we’re going to have her find this weapon. Then we’re going to kill him before he has a chance to launch his own attack. Veritros nearly succeeded because of her speed and ferocity. This person is different, clearly. He’s been biding his time, and if he doesn’t know that we’re onto him, then he’ll continue biding it.”

  “But for what? Why would he wait 20 years?”

  “Maybe,” another Priest said, “he thinks Veritros’s strategy was the wrong one. She didn’t have the troops necessary to win. That’s what he’s been building.”

  “One, she had the troops necessary to win. That’s not why she lost. Second, none of that matters,” the First Priest said, slicing through the chatter. “This Raylyn Brinson’s mission is to find him before he attacks—”

  “There will still be casualties.”

  The High Priest sighed. “Yes. I’m aware. Do you know of something else we should do? I’d like to hear it, if so.”

  No one spoke.

  “We send her back and we monitor her every movement and thought. Send out a drone to hover above her at all times. Have it sync with her nano, but her thoughts return only to us. Have it sync with those around her too, I suppose. I’ll go to the High Priest and alert him. He’ll work with the other Ministries and ensure our strategy fits in with the larger plan.” He looked across the table, left then right. “Is that agreeable to you all?”

  The doors opened again and Raylyn looked in at the First Council. Their conversation felt short and she half wished it would have gone on longer. Raylyn loved Corinth and she would praise the Priesthood with her dying breath, but there was a certain pressure inside these chambers that she hadn’t felt before.

  Regardless, she pushed her thoughts to the side. Her duty was clear and no amount of pressure would make her shirk it.

  Raylyn walked through the large doors and back into the Council’s room. The chair she had been sitting on was gone, the meaning clear: remain standing. She took her spot before them and looked up.

  “Sister,” the First Priest began, “we think you’ve done an admirable job so far. We feel your assessment is correct, that this definitely warrants attention. You have our permission to make the deal with the informant and find out this weapon’s whereabouts.”

  “Thank you, your Holiness,” Raylyn said.

  “Do you have any other questions?”

  “How would you like me to communicate my findings back to you?”

  “When you leave, you’ll be given instructions,” he said.

  “Yes, your Holiness.”

  “Sister,” the Priestess said. “I do have something else to ask, if you’ll indulge me.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Why do you think Veritros was able to get closer to the Black’s goal than any of Its previous weapons?”

  Raylyn’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know if it’s my place to say, your Holiness. I’m not wise in those aspects. I haven’t studied them.”

  “That’s fine. I’d still like to hear your thoughts.”

  Raylyn held her face up, not wanting to look down in front of these people again. “From what I know, we didn’t expect the Black to fight so hard. Veritros was a monster and we simply weren’t as cruel as her.”

  “Thank you,” the Priestess said.

  “One last thing,” the First Priest spoke. “The informant, under no circumstances, is to live. They will face the punishment a traitor deserves. Is that understood?”

  The First Priest had given up his name long ago. Fifty plus years. It was something from a different life, an entirely different person. He never even thought about it; he answered to different names now.

  The First Priest didn’t relish the task in front of him and knew no one else would have either—which was why the rest remained quiet when he said he’d handle the High Priest. Technically, it was his duty as first among equals, but anyone could have asked for the job … and he would have gladly given it to them.

  There were always rumors amongst the Priesthood that the High Priest was dead, or had lost his mind, or was otherwise incapacitated. These rumors fluttered throughout Priests’ gossip like the radioactive particles that moved through the skies above. Most Priests were immune to the rumors, participating but not actively believing it. If one were to actually put stock in such thoughts, the results would be severe.

  The First Priest knew the truth, though.

  The High Priest was not dead, nor mad. He was simply past whatever any other Priest might imagine. The First Priest could never tell those beneath him that; he honestly wasn’t sure he could explain it if he wanted. Which he didn’t.

  The First Priest lived much of his life as if no High Priest existed, because for the most part, he didn’t.

  It’d been years since the High had graced the First Council. Years since anyone had even seen their leader. He didn’t often hand down dictums and rarely changed the True Faith’s canon. Yet, he was always there, and that was something the First Priest never forgot.

  The First Priest entered the small box he used for communicating with the High, hating it as he stepped inside. It was small, barely three feet wide and just tall enough for a person to stand in it without hitting their head on the ceiling. A single chair was built into the structure, which was more or less simply a step that jutted out from the back of the box. The First Priest sat on it and the door closed in front of him, casting him in total darkness.

  The High Priest’s location wasn’t known to anyone, but the First Priest had always been able to reach him when needed.

  The whites of the First’s eyes lit up with green specks as he reached out to his leader.

  Seconds passed, and then minutes. The First Priest didn’t move from his spot, didn’t even shift positions. He stared straight forward, blinking rarely, and waited.

  Minutes turned into an hour.

  And then two.

  Finally, he felt the twinge in his eyes and knew that the connection had succeeded.

  A green holograph shot from his eyes and into the darkness before him. It was small, maybe three feet tall, but he saw the High Priest in it. He wore robes and the hood over his head masked much of his hairless features.

  We give thanks, the First Priest said.

  We give thanks. How are you doing, my friend?

  I’m sorry for calling upon you, your Holiness, he said, but it’s necessary.

  I am sure it is. Your calls are always respected and appreciated. The High Priest wasn’t looking at the First. His head was slightly tilted, gazing into the air as if watching some invisible creature float lazily by. How can I be of service?

  There is reason to believe that the Black has returned, your Holiness.

  The High Priest gave no indication that the message bothered him. He simply stared upward as if nothing had been said at all.

  What makes you think such a thing?

  The PD has received an anonymous tip. The tip wasn’t coy; they used the forbidden terms in their descriptions. The informant claims that the weapon has been gathering its forces for 20 years.

  When was the last time the Black attempted this? the High Priest asked.

  A thousand years ago, your Holiness.

  A long time, he said.

  The First Priest remained silent.

  It is odd that someone within the weapon’s flock would report him, isn’t it?

  The First Priest hadn’t considered that, nor had anyone else on the Council. Yet, now that it was in the open, he couldn’t deny such obviousness. Yes.

  Why do you think they would do such a thing? Have they not worshipped the blasphemer and the creature he follows? F
or long years, I’d imagine.

  I don’t know, your Holiness. Perhaps Corinth is looking out for us. Perhaps He will help us again.

  The High Priest chuckled and finally broke from his stare. He turned his head to the ground, the rest of his body not moving. Was it Corinth that saved us last time?

  Corinth has always been with us, the First Priest said. He didn’t know how else to answer the question, nor what it really meant.

  And we give thanks, the High Priest said. He didn’t wait for the First Priest’s necessary response before continuing. You’ve told the Prevention Division to find the weapon, I see?

  Yes, your Holiness.

  Are you nervous, my First Priest?

  I have faith in Corinth.

  As we all do, but that doesn’t mean you cannot be nervous. Tell me true. Are you?

  Of course, your Holiness.

  Why? the High Priest asked.

  Because the Black threatens our entire existence. The existence of all humanity.

  He watched the High Priest nod.

  We knew this would come. Maybe we didn’t know when, but we knew it would. A lot of time and resources were spent after the last weapon. You know the history, I’m sure?

  Yes, your Holiness, as much as I was given access to.

  The creature lies beyond our universe, but it’s not Corinth. It lives and dies as anything else, at least that’s my belief.

  The First nodded, again at a loss for how to respond. He knew the scientific consensus on the Black, but also that it couldn’t tell him much. The Black was nearly beyond human comprehension.

  A long silence fell between the two of them while the High Priest remained staring at the floor. After some length of time, perhaps as much as an hour, the High spoke again.

  I shall go to the Ministries and alert them. If the Black breaks through, it will be too late. Perhaps it will even be too late if the weapon attacks first. Perhaps it’s always been too late.

  The First Priest remained quiet.

  Veritros saw the truth in the end. Perhaps I’m now seeing a different truth. Perhaps there can be two truths simultaneously. There are things happening as well that I’m not sure bode well for us. I can’t speak of them yet, but I will soon.