Lords of the Seventh Swarm (19 page)

“Protect them, of course,” Felph said. “Now if I recall correctly, with the Hittites, Joshua slaughtered their men, their women, their children, all their flocks and herds, then burned their cities, melted their idols, and ground the gold into dust and threw it into the rivers. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Orick admitted glumly.

“I can understand discarding the gold, and I suppose cities were dirty enough back then that burning might have been in order. Personally, I’d even back that God of yours on his decision to kill the children in the cities. But for the life of me, Orick, I can’t figure out what the poor sheep did so wrong! Really, was it their fault if those shepherds had unwholesome amorous preferences? Oh, and let’s not even mention the babes—Sock it to those mewling infants, Jehovah!” Lord Felph cackled horribly at his own jests.

Well, whatever presence of the Holy Spirit Orick had felt, it had about all fled by now. It wasn’t as if Orick didn’t have answers to Felph—he believed that God ordered the flocks destroyed so the Israelites would not be tempted to fight over the spoils of war. As for the babes, who knew what had really been done? The Bible was so old, it was probably filled with some inaccuracies. An uninspired scribe might have thrown in the thing about the babes. But Felph was throwing out questions of such moral complexity they were difficult to answer, especially for someone like Tallea, who needed to receive the milk of the gospel before she could tolerate the meat.

“There are answers to the questions you pose,” Orick said.

“Ah, those who have ears, let them hear!” Lord Felph joked.

Athena saw how Felph annoyed Orick. She said, “You were telling us about the Sermon on the Mount…”

“Yes,” Orick tried to remember where he’d left off.

“Are you certain your Jesus wasn’t an impostor, Orick?” Felph asked. “None of his ‘miracles’ seem very miraculous to me. Their effects would be very easy to accomplish with modern technology.”

“But they didn’t have modem technology back then,” Orick countered.

“Perhaps, but imagine this, Orick: imagine that a modern man went back in time, with the idea of posing as the Son of God. Using modern equipment, he could have easily performed the ‘miracles’ you describe.”

“What of turning water into wine?” Orick asked.

“Nanotechnology,” Felph said. “A small tablet filled with nutrients and the proper nanoware, and in moments your water turns to wine.”

“What about healing the sick or raising the dead?”

“Who knows how sick those people really were?” Felph argued. “Nanodocs can work wonders.”

“What of walking on the water?”

“An antigrav sled, floating just below the surface. I’ve accomplished the same effect myself.”

“What of calming the troubled seas?”

Lord Felph fell silent, considering. “Weather satellites. Jesus knew when the storm would end.”

“I don’t accept that answer,” Orick said. “Even after a storm calms, the seas stay rough. So what about it, how about calming the seas?”

“I don’t know—yet,” Felph admitted. “Such technology doesn’t exist at the moment.”

“And here is another question for you,” Orick said. “Can a man travel back in time that far?”

“Time travel is possible, though the technology is strictly controlled,” Felph said. “One can go back in time, a few days—even a week.”

“But we’re talking twenty thousand years.”

“If we had an energy source large enough, one that he could carry with him, so that he could duplicate the effort over and—” Felph began.

“It’s not possible, is it?”

“No,” Felph admitted. “It’s not, by modern standards. But you’re missing my point entirely, Orick.”

“Which is?”

“I’m getting to that. I’m not saying that a man went back in time—either from our present day, or from some future. I simply wanted to say this: that as a species, we are evolving into something equal to your god.”

Orick found the statement befuddling. “Look at me,” Felph continued. “I’ve been alive for four thousand years. I’ve worn out thirty clones, and lost another fifty by accident. I’ve been ‘raised from the dead’ some eighty times. I won’t live forever, but who knows how long your ‘God’ lived. And though I’m not omniscient, as your god supposedly is, I could gain something near that. I could collect all the knowledge of mankind into one huge Omni-mind, as the Tharrin do, and use it to help me rule the stars.”

“But that isn’t the same as what I’m talking about.”

“Yet it is very near,” Felph said. “One might argue that, as god’s children, we are naturally struggling toward godhood ourselves—seeking the same rights and powers you ascribe to your god. So, my question is this, Orick. Who is to say that this isn’t all your god wants of us? Perhaps he created us, knowing that just as a salmon will swim upstream, or that a gosling will take to the air—perhaps in the same way, he knew in time we would evolve into gods. Perhaps that is all he wants.”

Orick considered the idea, rejected it as pure fantasy. Too often, he’d felt God’s spirit, promptings that told him his life, his actions, mattered deeply. He didn’t buy for a moment the notion that virtually without any struggle on his part, his children would someday become coequal to God.

“I find your philosophy to be a bit … implausible.”

Felph laughed. “How so?”

“Because it requires no moral effort,” Orick said. “Attaining perfect love, perfect hope, perfect faith, perfect harmony among mankind—won’t just happen. Your four thousand years of life hasn’t shaped you into a godling.”

“Touche, Orick. Yet there are special cases. Some men struggle to become gods. In time don’t you think one of them will succeed?”

Orick said, “Someday, one of your descendants might gain all knowledge, all power, and all goodness. But that does not free me from the responsibility to do all I can with my life to achieve those same ends.”

Lord Felph considered Orick’s words, his brow wrinkling. “For a young bear, you have learned much. I’ll think about your arguments, but I am not certain I care for your god. Other gods were worshiped in his time, gods who were more personable, more earthy, more human—and therefore perhaps more approachable.”

Does the man hear nothing I say?
Orick wondered. “We don’t invent gods to suit our needs. We follow God to attain our potential.”

Felph laughed. “Well, perhaps you don’t invent gods, but that happens to be my life’s work.” He glanced slyly at Athena, who still squatted beside Tallea. She arched her back and yawned. In that moment Orick could see her full figure, the graceful curve of her breasts, the dazzling auburn hair curling down nearly to her waist.

“I’m afraid you’re asking too much from your children,” Orick told Felph. “If you hope that they’ll be gods, you’ll be disappointed.”

“Of course, of course—” Felph said excitedly. “In this generation. But eons from now, in the twentieth and thirtieth generation.”

Felph turned to Athena. “What do you think? I bred you for wisdom, child. Who is right, me or Orick?”

Athena stared up at her father, and said shyly. “I think … a foolish man loves the sound of his own voice. A wise man listens to the words of others.”

Felph frowned. “Confucius. Are you quoting Confucius at me?”

“No,” she said. “I’m quoting myself.”

“So you’re calling me a fool? For not listening to a bear.”

“His words aren’t his own, but come from those who sent him,” Athena said softly. Orick almost laughed, for he had just quoted that line from the Scriptures a moment ago, only it was Jesus speaking about his doctrine.

“I’ve read his Scriptures,” Felph said. “I’m sure I recall the words as well as he does. And I’ve read other ancient texts, too—the Koran, the Egyptian Book of the Dead, the Popolvuh—”

“A wise man does not merely hear words, he listens.” Athena grinned.

“You believe my children will fail?” Felph cried in dismay.

Athena gazed into Felph’s eyes, bit her lower lip. “You think that because you made us to crave, to crave power and life and love—we will seize those things, and that will drive us toward greater heights. If you imagine that this is progress, Father, then, yes, we will progress. But I fear—that we will only become supreme consumers.

“You say you admire ‘more human’ gods,” Athena continued. “But I fear you admire yourself too much. Perhaps you cannot imagine anything more noble than man, but Orick here has just revealed it to me.”

“So you will become a Christ worshiper?” Felph said. “You’ll let this bear turn you against me!”

In answer, Athena stood, turned her back, and walked to Gallen, prepared to wake him so he could take his watch. Orick stared in wonder, his heart swelling with joy.

He glanced from the comer of his eye to see Tallea’s reaction. Something huge and black, like a giant spider, landed atop Tallea with a whump, and Orick cried out, startled. It was only there for a moment, moving rapidly. Yet for a fraction of a second he saw it: the creature had six enormous long hairy legs all spreading out from a compact, round body. Its face was something from a nightmare. The face was generally doglike in shape, but it had no ears that Orick could see, and it had no hair. Instead, the slate gray skin looked as if it had burned away. Its dark eyes were horribly large.

The creature bit Tallea’s neck, and Orick shouted, “Here now!” and leapt to his paws, thinking to kill the creature. But at that moment, something heavy landed on Orick’s back, knocking the breath from him. The big bear dropped with a groan. Everything went black.

For a moment, Orick did not know if he’d been knocked unconscious, or if the lights had simply gone out. Then—he remembered that the darkfriends would quit shining when they sensed enemies. And for some reason, Gallen’s warning devices hadn’t worked.

Lord Felph shouted, “Sfuz!” Orick was vaguely aware of screaming—Athena shrieking for help, mingled with a sudden whistling, a sound like dozens of birds twittering loudly. He heard scuffling feet as Felph scrambled away. He felt something pierce his back, a sharp talon. Something was tearing him open, yet Orick seemed paralyzed, unable to react. In this darkness, if he bit and clawed blindly, he night accidentally kill Felph.

He had to be cautious.

A terrible light exploded, a blinding white. The creature attacking Orick shrieked and roiled away.

Orick swatted in the direction the creature had rolled. He felt a thud as he raked his claws through flesh, snapped bones.

Tallea roared. In a moment Orick was beside her. The brilliant light had blinded him, but now another dim light shone. Athena must have got out a glow globe. His sight began to clear. The huge spiderlike being that had attacked Tallea shrieked in pain and rolled on the ground, kicking its legs in the air. The light devastated the sfuz. All around, Orick could hear the nasty creatures shrieking.

Orick pounced on it, bit its throat; gooey blood spurted into his mouth. He leapt on the thing once, twice. It did not die all the way—merely slowed in its movements.

Orick was growling at the top of his voice, and thus did not hear Gallen and Athena shout. Instead, he heard the concussions of Gallen’s pulp gun as he fired twelve shots, heard the hum of Gallen’s vibro-blade.

All around was whistling, and Orick found that his right shoulder was suddenly covered with a sticky web. He couldn’t get his front paw off the ground—it felt as if it were glued. Tallea shouted for help, and Orick suddenly realized that dozens of sfuz were dropping from above on sticky webs. He blinked fiercely, trying to get the tears from his eyes, trying to see well enough to defend himself. As Orick’s vision began to clear, another web landed across his face, gluing him more firmly to the ground.

He drew his head back, trying to break free. As enormous as Orick was, he could not budge the web. He uttered a hopeless prayer, wishing for the strength of Samson. “God help us.”

A second brilliant strobe went off. Everywhere, sfuz shrieked in pain. Gallen was tossing photon grenades—small weapons intended to blind an enemy at night. The grenades were small enough so Gallen could easily hold a dozen in his pack. Perhaps more than anything else at hand, the grenades affected the sfuz, for they were born to the magnificent blackness that reigned here beneath the tangle.

As suddenly as the fight had begun, sfuz leapt away, whistling frantically. Orick’s eyes adjusted. He pulled at the web that pinned his head. He bit its strands, chewing free. Tallea grunted, doing the same.

Lord Felph seemed miraculously unaffected by this whole thing. He’d somehow rushed from Orick, over to Gallen and Athena. No sfuz had leapt on his back or captured him in its web. It seemed oddly miraculous. The old man chuckled merrily. “Well done, Gallen! Well done! My, what one can accomplish with a Lord Protector. Why, if it weren’t for you, we’d be stuffed in their guts like sausages in casings!”

Orick stopped chewing, yanked himself free. Felph stood in his robes, grinning. All around them were signs of a massacre. Gallen stood, a dozen dead sfuz sprawled at his feet. In the fray, Athena had taken his vibro-blade. Now she crouched, at his feet, poised, the silver-blue blade shimmering in the darkness, humming like some living thing.

Yet it was not the others who held Orick’s attention. It was Gallen. Orick had never seen the boy look so pale, so panicked.

“They came out of thin air!” Gallen said, shuddering. “Just out of the air. I’ve never seen anything move so fast!”

“Let’s get back to the ship,” Athena said. “This isn’t over. Some got away. They’ll be back with reinforcements.”

“There were no scouts …” Gallen said. “None came looking for us. My mantle would have seen them.”

Orick’s hair stood on end. He hadn’t seen the sfuz till they dropped from above. He looked up. The air above them stood open for at least sixty meters.

“Well, Gallen, you reacted admirably,” Felph said, grunting in satisfaction.

Gallen still crouched, trying to look all directions at once. “You said they trained other animals. Could they have used one against us?

“How do you mean?” Tallea asked.

“The sfuz must have had help setting the ambush,” Gallen said. He looked all about. “Insects?” he asked, shaking his head. “Something larger—like a crow—flew overhead an hour ago, but I thought it was just hunting insects.”