Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One) (34 page)

Raistan's voice faded in
to a faint echo and then disappeared completely as an onslaught of once dormant memories consumed Steffor’s consciousness. His body tensed in anticipation as he tried in vain to resist the data rushing to the surface.

The first scene to unfold was that of
him and Raistan, or the energy that made up their true selves, living in this strange forest alone, dependent on the other to survive. They were happy, adventurous memories of the two of them exploring their surroundings. Unlike now, the forest teamed with a diversity of animal and plant life, some he recognized from the Provider, others completely alien.

Those early incarnations were about basic survival, the constant search for food and shelter from their dangerous environment. Lives were short and all en
ded with a violent death, a continual fight to escape from flesh eating plants or demonic beasts. Steffor lost himself to the torrent emotion surrounding those early memories and experienced the short-lived victories and the all too frequent and painful losses. Repeatedly, he relived the brutal anguish of watching his brother or sister slip from his hands and meet a brutal end.

Then memories of the first betrayal surfaced. At first, the changes in his sibling were small and seemingly insignificant: secretly
hoarding food, choosing to run first and warn of danger second, always taking the more protective shelter for himself. The selfish transformation took place over many lives, forging an instinctual guard within Steffor of his sibling but not fear. He still loved Raistan despite the early development of his self-preservation modality and Steffor continued to risk his life time and time again to save the only being in his life.

Their lives finally reached the ultimate crossroads that would forever lead them d
own separate paths. Young men, in their prime, the accumulated experience of hundreds of lifetimes in the unforgiving environment at its apex, the duo were an exquisite unit. The daily challenge to survive had tuned senses into a perfect orchestra of movement and action, making the brothers as formidable as any creature living within the strange forest. Full of vigor, the two believed themselves immortal so long as they were together, making the memory of Raistan's betrayal all the harder to relive the second time.

On the hunt of a giant stag for days, they had finally worn down the magnificent beast and were closing
in for the kill. The thought of fresh meat consuming all thought, Steffor ran blindly into a web deftly concealed between two birch trees. Tangled in the sticky cords, Steffor was helpless against the onslaught of creatures pouring in from camouflaged confines within the branches above.

Steffor
’s frantic screams for his brother’s aid echoed for miles. Standing only ten yards away, shifting from Steffor to the hordes of spiked appendages and venomous fangs, Raistan gave his brother one last glance before bolting from the scene, never to return. Steffor relived the agony to the end, fed on for days before the mercy of death finally arrived.

Then the five appeared. It was the same existence but now, to his soul's relief, he shared it with others, not just the
malevolent creature he once called sibling. They learned to exist with others, experiencing new, intricate bonds of love, along with harmful divides of hatred. Steffor fought for love. Raistan competed for allegiance. Their lives spent with the five were full of beautiful tributes of compassion and dark homage of evil.

The last life Steffor and Raistan coexisted in the same world, began with ten other souls. Unlike past lives, Steffor began that life unaware of his counterpart. The forest, while stocked wit
h the same variety of animal life, was less dangerous; where survival was less demanding, providing the mind time to invent, to improve. He and the five chosen to be in his life lived a life of solitude, building a small village where they coupled and raised their offspring in a self-sufficient community.

The forest and land was larger then, a man could roam the woods and fields for weeks and still find uncharted territory. Game and fruit baring trees and bushes were abundant. They took what their world wou
ld yield and reveled in each other’s companionship. Time passed gracefully and Steffor and his fellow patriarchs experienced three generations, with a fourth soon to emerge, when Raistan finally entered his life.

In the still of night, the savage barbarian
s surrounded their simple village and attacked Steffor's family with ferocious attainment. The last memories of that life was of his great granddaughter's scream as she was ripped from his slumbering arms, the confused chase from his hut to find village ablaze then discovering the mutilated bodies of his sons and daughters and witnessing the raping of his children. A swift crack of club to the temple answered his prayers for death, Raistan's maniacal face squatting down to relish Steffor's torment the last sight to see before taking his final breath.

"I hate you!" Steffor screamed.

"Good for you! Soak in those memories, wallow in that anger. Let it fill you up." Raistan yelled with delight.

Consumed by rage, Steffor struggled in his bonds and felt them give
moments before Raistan casually raised his hand and slowly closed his fingers into a fist. Several ribs cracked as the branches constricted. Seconds away from blacking out, Raistan opened his fist to release the pressure just enough for Steffor to take in several shallow breaths.

"I loved you! I protected you! I sacrificed so much for you!" Steffor bellowed.

"Weakness, all of it weakness. You have always been weak and deserved everything you got. Life is about survival and yet still, after all this time, you have yet to learn that basic law."

"So finally, now, while a shell of what it once was, you recognize this place as our long lost home. Our origins, the proving ground for what we would soon become. I do not know exactly why we have been delivered here b
ut I sense it was not part of the original, master plan. We were destined to depart this world from the beginning, but not like this. Something has gone awry and it has had to adjust. No matter, now that I am aware, I do not intend to ever leave. I had reached the limits of growth in my world as I imagine you have experienced in your own, naive way. But the discovery of your world has changed everything, the potential growth of my power is now infinite!"

Like the eye of a storm, a clarifying thought emerged
while he listened to Raistan's diabolical monologue.
He shifts the Source. It is with a skill I have never witnessed but it is shifting all the same. If he can do it, so can I
. Kindled by the deep seated hatred of his opposite, motivated by the love of his soul mate, Steffor flamed the forge deep within and began to reshape his reality.

Raistan had his back to him again, studying Calivera as he spoke. If he had turned around, he would have seen the amber halo forming around Steffor. But he had become compl
acent in his perceived control, drunk with joy at the prospect of elongating Steffor's suffering.

"Oh, I will learn from my past mistakes and take my time this go around. No more wholesale destruction and mass consumption. No, the purity of just one being
in your world is worth ten thousand in mine. It deserves respect and precise study. I will be departing to your home shortly Steffor and leave you and our father to proceed as you will. But first, I must taste of this lush fruit."

The desire to destroy Rai
stan was the target on which Steffor poured his focus. He left the protective confines of the Provider's cove and dove into the swift currents of the true Source beyond. The undertow of energy pulled him under as he allowed the current to consume him, surging his being with immense power. The need to neutralize his adversary overshadowed the terror of his transformation.

Steffor sent forth his energy and, like a sponge, the organic life soaked it in. His current spread rapidly from tree to grass blade and f
illed hollow fibers of the contrived world. Steffor would have fallen victim to his growth at that moment if not for the hedgerow barrier that halted and contained his commitment to eternal expansion. He probed the energy flowing within the arboreal fence and recognized it as the Source. Altered from how it appears in his home world, Steffor sensed its purpose was to shield this place from the outside. He also sensed the shield was weakening.

Raistan is the cancer!
Steffor concluded, remembering the black tumor infecting the flow of Source.
He has gone through a similar transformation and has been seeping into the Provider's well of Source ever since. Will I do the same?

The branches that held him disintegrated with a burst of golden light. Raistan turned to
see Steffor standing before him, pulsing with life. "What...noooo!" Steffor shot his arms out as Raistan contorted to shift the branches, projecting a diffusion of golden beams. The act obliterated the branches, reducing the tree down to original boughs, scarring the serpentine limbs with hundreds of scorched nubs.

"Your reign of destruction is over brother! It is time for you to depart," Steffor proclaimed.

Incensed, Raistan twisted his body and swung his arms in one motion, manipulating a neighboring oak bough to swing down toward Steffor. The move took Steffor off guard, producing a shield of energy just before the log slammed flush across his chest. The impact launched him ten yards away to land flat on his back. Steffor regained his feet instantly.

"En
ough!" Steffor infused the surrounding ring of trees with his charged energy and obliterated them with his thought. Raistan looked around the empty field in disbelief. Calivera, a few yards behind him, rushed over to inspect Leanor's limp body.

"Very imagi
native," Raistan said as he turned back to face Steffor. "I clearly have much to learn."

"We have learned all that is required from you. Your time away from us is over."

"I will never rejoin you!" Raistan shouted like an impotent child. "You lost the right to tell me what to do when you chose to leave me, when
It
left me," he said pointing to the darkening clouds.

"We never left you. The objective always required us to travel great distances apart, but we have always been connected, as we always will be."

"I no longer ascribe to that plan."

"You must. We need you."

"I don't need you."

A static
explosion above jerked their heads up in unison. A symmetrical ring of electric blue light expanded downward, its edges crackling with discharged magnetism, replacing the dark clouds with clear blue skies, shaking the ground with greater intensity the closer it got to the dome’s outer rim.

"Your chariot awaits brother," Raistan said. The ring was moments from reaching the hedgerow walls. "I can honestly say the reunion has been a pleasure, but the time has come for us to part ways. Forever."

A tingling pitch, comprised of infinitesimal vibrations, coursed through Steffor a second after the mysterious ring of energy slammed into the hedgerow walls.

Something pulls me away!

Steffor looked over his adversary's shoulder, locked eyes with Calivera and teleported his fading being to her.

"We will always be together Steffor, our bliss is eternal." Calivera caressed his heart and calmed his fears. "Trust in the Provider as you trust yourself."

"He will hurt you in ways I fear you may never recover."

"The flesh is bu
t a vehicle, he can never destroy my true self. We all have a role to play."

"I will not allow it to happen."

"I love you Steffor." Calivera kissed his soul one last time before the world around him disappeared.

Chapter 22

The stress that surrounded the final moments leading up to Muzar's return had distracted Stalling, causing him to temporarily lose sight of what was about to occur. Now, sealed within the mainframe, basking in Muzar's glory with his closest friends, the stress had all but melted away. The human existence was about to change and with it, Antium's future.

The road is built and the vehicle is perfect
, Stalling thought as he stared at Muzar and recalled everything they had built or enhanced since his absence.
Like a brush fire, a new cultural phenomenon will infiltrate the heart and soul of everyone and our technology will make it unstoppable. Overnight, inferior beliefs and opinions will become obsolete.

Stalling, happily lost in the endless possibilities, barely registered Anto
ne reaching inside his breast pocket to remove his link visor and place it on his head. He stepped away from the group and said in a terse hush, "Go!"

Stalling, Janison and Jennifer remained focused on Muzar but despite Antone's attempts to stay qui
et, it was impossible not to sense something afoot. A few minutes later, Antone rejoined them. "We have a situation that needs to be addressed."

"Whatever it is, it can wait
," Stalling said, not turning around to face Antone.

"Do you think I would interrupt this
moment if I didn't deem it important?"

They all reluctantly turned to face Antone. "What's the situation?" Stalling asked.

"Thortizan has infiltrated the campus and has the lab entrance surrounded. After a quick review of the security video and debrief with Eitemor, I think it is safe to assume the troops involved are Vorenian Knights."

The implications of the presence of Vorenian Knights had an instant and sobering
effect on all of them.

"How many?" Janison asked.

"We've identified forty which means another ten or so are concealed. At least a platoon. Eitemor pulled back the team to create a smaller perimeter."

"What are our chances?"

"If it were ordinary infantry, I'd take my team of ten over a full platoon every day. But against Vorenian Knights, the best we could do is hold them off for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes."

"Wait a second, you said Thortizan was here. How do you know Thortizan is among them?" Stalling asked.

"Because he sent us a message," Antone said, holding his link visor out to project the video for all of them to see.

Thortizan lounged comfortably in a fold out field chair with legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. Seated at the side of a large oak, one could clearly see glimpses behind him of the campus lawn and
portico of the engineering building, its polished steel columns reflecting off the warm street lamps less than a hundred yards away. The time stamp in the right corner indicated the recording was less than twenty minutes old.

Dressed in black fatigues lac
ed with an array of weapons and equipment, the Cardinal's outfit contradicted his relaxed tone. "Good evening Stalling, my compliments to your beautiful facility. While a little too contemporary for my personal tastes, I can't help but admire the symmetry of it all. Very soothing. Who knows, with time, it may grow on me."

"Now, as I am sure your loyal watch dog has informed you, we have the entrance of your lab surrounded. Your security team, impressive as their defenses may be, cannot withstand our assault
. Escape is not an option. Thanks to recent intel, we have the blueprints of your entire compound, including the lab's secret magnarail connected to your home. Dr. Alterian is playing host to several of my men as we speak."

The video feed switched for a br
ief moment to Stalling’s private magnarail platform with Lorissa book-ended by two heavily armed Vorenian Knights before returning back Thortizan. "We wish to avoid violence and therefore will provide you the opportunity to choose a peaceable outcome. Our request is simple: deliver to us Muzar Tarcones. You have thirty minutes."

"How the hell do they know about Muzar!" Antone yelled at Janison.

"I honestly don't know. You have got to believe me; I never said a word about Muzar!" Janison said defensively.

"W
hy should we believe you?" Antone asked, looking at Stalling.

"Because, while his beliefs share a common foundation with that of the C.O.S, he cares more about our shared social ideology
, a vision that is dependent on Muzar's survival. A vision that he knows they will do everything possible to stop. Janison's journey has arguably been the toughest, for his belief in what Muzar's return will represent has required the most imagination and faith."

Janison looked at Stalling, swept away by his friend's insight
, neither denying nor defending the statement.

"So how do they know he even exists, much less resides here in the lab?"

"Archbishop Clortison," Janison said, pulling his gaze away from Stalling. "For all his short comings, the man has an eerie track record of having a keen intuition that many believe to be psychic. While I believe in our potential to expand the powers of the mind, I fear the information I provided must have filled in the blanks, giving his intuition some final clarity. It is the only explanation I can think of."

"It
’s plausible," Stalling said. "Clortison has proven himself a shrewd adversary in the past. But the more important question is why do they want Muzar? For Clortison to arrive at the conclusion Muzar existed here in our lab for the past ten years and is just now awakening, then why does he bother taking him alive? Why not just destroy him and us, erasing all evidence of what we could have become once and for all?"

"The Second Coming!" Antone shouted. He then quickly summarized Clort
ison's sermon delivered earlier that afternoon. "At first, I was stuck on the 'false prophets' part, thinking it was one of their final public moves to justify actions against us. But the rest has been sticking in my crawl; I couldn't help think there was more to it. The Second Coming has by far been one of their best and more commonly used scare tactics, but today's sermon felt more poignant then the rest. It was the closest statement resembling a promise I had ever heard them make."

"As Stalling has astut
ely theorized, I will confess that my hope in Muzar's return would create a similar impact to that of which is taught about the Savior's Second Coming, at least symbolically."

"Well it appears everyone has got their own agendas for Muzar once he returns,"
Jennifer said. "But hasn't the end of this story always been open ended? Despite all the cutting edge technology applied to this project, did we not all agree that our understanding of it all would be grossly limited until he returned. The ultimate outcome has always been in Muzar's hands. None of that has changed."

"But the immediate circumstances have
," Stalling stated solemnly. "We all know what Thortizan and his knights are capable of and I have no doubt he will proceed with taking Muzar by force if we choose not to comply. This confirms their desire to take him alive. The only other alternative, one I am not prepared to explore, is to destroy Muzar, here and now. Are we in agreement this is not a course of action any of us are prepared to take."

"Agreed
," the other three said in unison.

"Then our choice is clear. We deliver Muzar unto the Church of Salvation and let come what may come."

*****

I send you in my place Steffor so that we may all return. Trust in those I send you to, for they are our clos
est allies and are the key to our salvation.

I understand. I miss you already.

As I do you.

"He is coming to. Heartbe
at is elevated but nothing critical. The strange anomaly in his brainwave activity persists but it does not seem to be to affecting other vitals," a woman said.

"No turning back now," replied a man.

Steffor heard the voices with intimate detail. The women's voice was foreign yet her tone conveyed undeniable compassion for him. The man was not familiar either but he too had a caring hitch in his voice.

"Communication skills may be one of the last processes to connect, so take it slow," said a second man's vo
ice.

"Can he hear us now?" The voice of a third man inquired, not devoid of emotion but more business like compared to the other three.

Steffor opened his eyes. The periphery of his vision was blurry, as if smeared with a transparent gel, so that all he could see at first were the four strangers before him, the people he assumed were the ones talking earlier. Sensing these were the allies the Provider spoke of, he studied each with intent purpose.

The sooner I understand, the sooner I return to Calivera.

The woman to his far left was beautiful: rich auburn hair with intelligent hazel-green eyes, her strange clothing revealed the fetching figure of woman in the prime of her youth. She met his eyes with joyful tears freely rolling down her cheeks and a loving smile.

The man to her left, twenty years her senior, was average in height with thick waves of black and white hair. Despite the haggard look on his oval face, he had a jovial demeanor about him and an easy smile that was comforting to the soul.

The man to his left was an imposing figure. Short in stature with a shaved head, Steffor easily depicted the chiseled form of a warrior beneath the dark fitted jacket and white collared shirt. Steffor read the slight raise in the corner of the man's mouth as a deferent gesture.
This one is guarded; prepared for action.

The last person was the most striking. Tall, broad shoulders with slender wa
ist, the man's comfortable looking clothes hung perfectly to his muscular frame. A short crop of jet-black hair and tight beard framed his handsome face. He too was crying freely when he said, "Welcome back Muzar."

Here ends Known Afterlife: Volume I of
The Provider
.