The Religion War (5 page)

"If you had the chance, would you give your life to stop it?" asked the Avatar.

"I wish I had that power."

"I came here to meet General Cruz, to stop the war," explained the Avatar. "You will share in thatjourney when you set me free. It is the point and purpose of your life."

As the Avatar planned, the interrogator's conscious mind was scrambled by the emotions and thoughts of the past minutes. This brutish man, accustomed to avoiding deep thoughts, had imagined the tiniest particles of the universe, his childhood, and the battles of the future. He had laughed, felt pain and pity, been intellectually stimulated, confused, assured, and uncertain. The Avatar had challenged his worldview, and it was evaporating, leaving him feeling empty, unimportant, and purposeless.

He needed to stop the pain. Maybe if he killed the Avatar quickly, that would help.The interrogator stared openmouthed at the Avatar. The incongruities were too immense for his mind to reconcile. This elderly prisoner, about to die, was offering to save the world. In any other context, the thought would have caused laughter. But while the interrogator didn't entirely understand what the Avatar meant about God, he picked up on the Avatar's sense of certainty, and he needed that feeling for himself.

Just as the Avatar had expected, a process of cognitive dissonance took hold of the interrogator's mind. His subconscious, a dormant giant, exerted control over his conscious, and its first order of business was ending the discomfort of confusion. And so it remapped the memories of the past few minutes, making the Avatar seem more persuasive than he had been, causing the ideas that made no sense to the interrogator suddenly to seem right and obvious. The interrogator considered that this old man— bedraggled, unkempt, unarmed—had penetrated H2 outer defenses, so obviously he must have extraordinary capacity. This morsel of credibility expanded in the interrogator's head, connecting synapses that had dangled free, solving the dissonance, creating a new reality, new perception, new memories.The interrogator came to think that there
was
some chance that the Avatar understood the nature of God in a way that no one else did. What else was this old man capable of? Could he stop a war?

Thoughts collided in the interrogator's head, a mental clanging that hurt, and so his subconscious compensated in the only way it could, by adjusting his perception until he saw the Avatar as not a crazy old man but the savior of the world. This was the same process that all cult leaders used to control their flocks, but the Avatar had done it in minutes. And when the adjustment was done, for one brief moment, the interrogator felt something he had never felt before. It was intoxicating, transcending: He felt he mattered.

"You won't be forgotten," said the Avatar.

"I won't?" asked the interrogator.

"I'll tell Patrick what you did today," said the Avatar.

His words penetrated the interrogator and lifted him up in his chair. The interrogator felt the tug of a million years of evolution. Dormant instructions in his DNA activated:
Protect thefamily, pro
tect the tribe, protect the species, follow the leader, and find meaning.
Then came the sudden flush of knowing, the realization, the certainty, and the peace.

An autopsy would later reveal that both shots were fired simultaneously. The I-Wing guard's lifeless body bounced off the wall while the interrogator staggered backwards, mortally wounded, landing in a pile against the table. No one would ever know why.

General Cruz's control center was in full operation. The wall monitors showed the satellite images of al-Zee's ground forces. The room was crackling with operational chatter, the sound of keyboards, rolling chairs, sliding bulletproof doors. Cruz was surrounded by several of his top officers on the promenade overlooking the control room.

"What's the status of the battle platform in the Indian Ocean?" asked Cruz.

"Seventy-five percent operational, sir," responded General Gallen, head of the Platform Battle Group.

"How long before we're a hundred percent?"

"Ten days. Maybe a week if we cut some corners," answered Gallen.

"How many troops do we have in the theater?" asked Cruz, looking at General Fuch.

"Seven hundred and fifty thousand on the ground. That includes fifty thousand Special Ops," Fuchs said.

Cruz took a deep breath and scanned the operational monitors, absorbing the readouts about enemy location, munitions, deployment, and likely losses from each attack scenario. On the most optimistic scenario, Cruz would lose fewer than 10,000 men. Worst case, 250,000. In every war game scenario the computers were cranking out, Cruz won. No price seemed too high, considering the stakes. The other side didn't fare so well. Their losses would be enormous.

"Gentlemen, tell me what day we ought to start this thing," said Cruz, still looking straight ahead.

"I recommend waiting at least a month" came a voice from behind Cruz.

"Waiting for what?" asked Cruz, displeased with the ambiguous response.

"Until you know what you're doing" came the answer.

Cruz whipped around, looking for the subordinate whose flippancy had just ended his military career. The general felt the rush of blood to his face—the one that he had felt so many times in combat, before squeezing the trigger and ending the mortal existence of an unlucky opponent. He was stunned at the sight of an old man with a plaid blanket standing behind him—an old man who should have been a grease spot under his limousine, or a dismantled corpse in I-Wing.

The lower-ranking generals formed a semicircle, just staring at the old man, not sure what to do. The Avatar's eyes locked on to Cruz's as if connected by wire. No one had looked at Cruz that way for a long, long time. For the first time in his life, the general was speechless.

"I'm sorry," offered the Avatar. "I guess your question wasn't directed at me."

The generals didn't know what to make of this situation. This was the most secure military location on the planet, which led them to think that anyone inside must have a good reason to be there, despite all outward appearance to the contrary. The generals were dumbfounded by the incongruity .There seemed no danger from the old man, so their fight-or-flight reflexes never kicked in. And when they tried to solve the puzzle with their rational facilities, all they got was brainlock.
The old man
couldn't
be standing there. But he
was
there. Therefore he must have a purpose.
Each of the generals concluded that someone else must know why he was there, and there had to be a good reason.

"Who are you?" demanded Cruz, drawing his sidearm and aiming between the Avatar's eyes.

Following Cruz's lead, the generals drew their sidearms too, none wanting to be the last to realize there was danger.

"Are you afraid of old blankets?" asked the Avatar, with a relaxed smile.

Cruz was not amused."I understand that you know our battle plans. How do you know?" he demanded.

"I'd be happy to tell you, but it's a long story," answered the Avatar. "I get the impression that you're in a hurry."

"How did you get out of I-Wing alive?" barked Cruz.

"I'm rather pressed for time. Would you mind terribly if we got to the important matters first?"

"Such as?" growled Cruz, looking at the Avatar at the end of his pistol.

"Do you have an office where we can talk? Your generals aren't ready for what I have to tell you," said the Avatar.

"You'll talk right now, or I'll put a bullet in your skull," threatened Cruz.

"If I may be frank, in the interest of time, we both know you won't. You need to find out how I know of your battle plans. And I should think you'd like to know al-Zee's battle plans while you're in an inquisitive mood. You tried torturing me, and now you know that that didn't work. You're not the sort of man who tries a failed strategy twice. So now you'll try the next obvious strategy, which is to sit down and listen to me. That's who you are."

Cruz was furious at himself for not realizing the old man might know more than just the plans of the Christian Alliance, furious for somehow losing control of this situation to an old man, furious for being distracted from the task at hand, and furious at the weapon in his hand that was now utterly useless. He bolstered his weapon and yelled to Lieutenant Waters to join them. The generals stood speechless as Cruz, the old man, and Waters exited the control room toward the High Commander's war room office.

"Waters," said Cruz, "if this old man does anything dangerous, shoot him. I'm not sure what we have here yet."

"Do you want me in the room?" asked Waters.

"Keep the door open, but wait outside," ordered Cruz.

The H2 Command office was designed for efficiency, not luxury. It stayed uninhabited except when Cruz needed to run things from there, which until now had only been drills.The desk and other surfaces were devoid of paperwork and personal effects.

"Sit down," Cruz said to the Avatar.

The Avatar walked to the large chair behind the command desk and sat down. Cruz watched with a combination of anger and amusement as he lost his seat to the old man. The general decided to stand, so at least he'd have a height advantage.

"Let's start with who you are," he said.

"My name is Avatar. Many years ago I was a package delivery-man in San Francisco. Now Ijust try to help wherever my particular skills are needed.That is why I'm here today."

"And what are your particular skills, other than spooking my entire staff, and escaping from a maximum-security interrogation center?" asked Cruz.

"I am immune from delusion," answered the Avatar.

"I have to wonder how often that comes in handy," scoffed Cruz.

"Take your current situation," explained the Avatar. "The world stands on the brink of losing two billion souls before the year is out.The stakes are enormous.Al-Zee's people believe they will go to paradise for killing their enemies. But you know they are deluded, do you not?"

"That's obvious," said Cruz.

"But it's not obvious to
them,"
corrected the Avatar. "How do you explain to yourself their wrongness?"

"They've been brainwashed and they don't know it."

"So you agree that people who are brainwashed don't know it, even if someone helpful tries to point it out?" asked the Avatar.

"Pretty much," huffed Cruz, getting impatient with this line of conversation that didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"Then you understand that it's entirely possible that
you're
brainwashed into believing the Christian forces will prevail over the Muslims because God wants it so," said the Avatar.

"Maybe in theory, but I'm
not
brainwashed. The Muslims are deluded, and nothing is gonna stop them except death. I plan to answer their prayers," said Cruz.

"I'm confused by your answer," said the Avatar. "On the one hand you say you wouldn't know if you were brainwashed, and on the other hand you say you're sure you're not."

"Brainwashing isn't that common. What are the odds someone brainwashed not only me but everyone I work with?" asked Cruz.

"About the same as the odds that two billion Muslims would be brainwashed," said the Avatar.

"Okay, you made your little point. But none of it matters. I believe what I believe. The war is happening. God is on our side and we're going to win it."

"Surely you know you can't win it, don't you?" asked the Avatar.

"I've got a hundred-to-one advantage in firepower. This thing will be over in sixty days."

"Have you ever wondered why al-Zee hasn't used chemical or biological weapons for the past ten years?" asked the Avatar.

"His loons did a few gas attacks years ago and it cost them a lot in public opinion. Al-Zee is a smooth operator. He's running a PR campaign as much as a war of terror. He's not looking for big numbers of dead, just the most photogenic events. Hell, he's been recording his own bombings and e-mailing the recordings to the media for a decade. Lethal gas doesn't look exciting on television. Explosions do."

"That's partly right," agreed the Avatar. "But where do you think all the stockpiles of biological weapons went?"

"Probably to some cave in Syria. There are a million holes in the ground."

"Maybe this is a good time to tell you how I knew your war plans," offered the Avatar.

Footsteps ran up the hallway. A security officer handed a note to Waters outside the door. The note described the scene they hadjust discovered at I-Wing: two dead, door wide open.Waters looked into the room, deciding to say nothing for now, and put the note in his pocket before dismissing the guard.

"You see," explained the Avatar, "I asked myself what I would do if I had your military assets, your nearly pathological need to control your environment, and only an average level of awareness of your own delusions.Then I sorted through the news stories that speculated on your various possible plans, and focused initially on the ones that were obviously leaked by your own people."

"I'm going to ignore your description of me for a minute," said Cruz. "Tell me how you could tell which battle plans were leaks?"

"Those were the ones that gave away too much information and would allow an enemy to prepare," said the Avatar. "And they were the uncreative ideas. The leaks allowed me to eliminate many alternatives. From there I focused on the one best option for gaining your political and military objectives, the path with the greatest certainty."

"Clever bastard. But you're wrong. Completely wrong."

The Avatar smiled.

"I'm not talking about your
real
plan. I'm talking about your counterfeit plan—the one you sold to your own generals and to the Christian governments."

Cruz put on his best poker face. He didn't like the direction this was taking. No one else on Earth knew that his
real
plan was extermination. Never before had a general hidden his war plans from his own staff until the onset of war. How could the Avatar have guessed?

"Deducing your real plan was easier," answered the Avatar to the question that wasn't asked. "I simply imagined what I would do if I were you and wanted to be one hundred percent sure of permanent victory. And of course I ignored the impact on enemy civilian populations, as I know you will, since you believe that your own civilian population is at risk if you lose."