Beyond Redemption

But what interests me is what happens after the Afterdeath? The killers among us would have us believe there is simply more death, a progression into deeper and deeper layers of h.e.l.lish suffering. The Wahnvor Stellung claim death is more like climbing a ladder; each Afterdeath bringing us closer to purity or nirvana. The Täuschung twist everything, claiming only through suffering can we hope to attain G.o.dhood.

I ask: Where do the souls of babies come from? Are they just magically created out of nothing? No, that"s ridiculous! I think once we"ve either suffered enough or earned redemption, our slates are wiped clean. And we start the entire cycle again.

—VERSKLAVEN SCHWACHE, GEFAHRGEIST PHILOSOPHER

Konig stood unnoticed at the door, watching the thin, blue-eyed, blond-haired G.o.d-child play. The Geborene priests had built a miniature city complete with tiny people carved from various colored chunks of wood. The toy city contained a population of twenty-five hundred peasants, one hundred soldiers—fifty of them mounted—and a few hundred miscellaneous animals. Based on Konig"s experience, there were not nearly enough chickens for it to be a realistic model. The city also lacked walls and defenses of any kind, but Konig supposed they"d just get in the way of the child"s play.

All my hopes depend on this child. The boy"s unquestioning obedience was critical to Konig"s plans, and he could see but three means of achieving it: worship, fear, and love. Reality, it seems, has a cruel sense of humor. The method most likely to succeed and with the best results was the one Konig felt least capable of. Inspiring worship and fear was easy for a powerful Gefahrgeist such as Konig, but both had their disadvantages. A G.o.d wanting to help him, desperate to please, would be far more effective.

How do I make this boy love me? Looking back at his own childhood offered no clues. The question left him uncomfortable, tickled at the back of his neck like cold breath. He needed Morgen to need him. And need is weakness.

Morgen, future G.o.d of the Geborene Damonen, engrossed in his game, hadn"t noticed Konig. He marched a squad of forty tiny soldiers up a street toward a crowd of some two hundred peasants gathered in the center of town. Konig watched with interest. The goings-on of a child"s mind were as mysterious as anything in the world. What drives this boy"s imagination to play out these tedious games?

Morgen moved the troops forward one at a time until they faced the crowd of peasants, stopping often to remove minuscule flecks of lint or dust from the table or to adjust the exact positioning of a toy. Many toys he adjusted half a dozen times before he seemed satisfied with how and where they stood. He moved the Captain of the Guard forward to meet with what Konig a.s.sumed was the representative of the peasants. If there was dialogue between the two, it all took place in the boy"s mind as he sat motionless, looking at the toy people he"d gathered together. Konig saw frustration in the set of Morgen"s shoulders and the way he reached for one piece before stopping and then reaching for another. It seemed he could not make up his mind which to move first.

Konig"s stifled a gasp of surprise when the wood soldiers suddenly straightened from their fixed positions, hefted tiny weapons, and charged the gathered peasants. In seconds the model city was home to bloodless butchery as soldiers hacked wooden limbs from peasants. What the peasants lacked in weaponry they made up for in numbers. Soldiers were pulled from horses, relieved of their weapons, and either pulled apart or battered with small model rakes and farming implements. Morgen sat back watching, touching nothing. At first it seemed the soldiers had the advantage, but before long more peasants poured into the street. Another sixty soldiers arrived to reinforce the original forty, but at this point over a thousand peasants had joined the melee. Within minutes wooden corpses littered the model city and the surviving peasants armed themselves with weapons from fallen soldiers.

Konig cleared his throat, and Morgen, appearing unsurprised, glanced back at him. The wood toys stopped moving the moment the boy looked away.

"Having a little trouble with your peasants?" Konig asked.

Morgen"s slim face lit with a quick smile. "Yes. The peasants are revolting."

"So I see."

"No, it"s a joke. I heard it from Aufschlag."

Konig hid his distaste. "Of course." Perhaps I should keep Aufschlag from the boy in the future. "Having fun?"

"Yes. Numerical superiority will win over superior weapons. Thus peasants are only peasants because they allow themselves to be peasants. Perhaps it"s what they want, though that makes little sense to me. They could as easily be the rulers if they decided."

"That is partly true, but you aren"t seeing the whole picture. You"re a.s.suming the peasants know they can defeat those ruling. You"re a.s.suming it will occur to them to try. Finally, you"re a.s.suming many will be willing to die to achieve this goal. And when the peasants take over, who runs things? Who will work the fields? Who will replace the fallen soldiers? Will the peasants then revolt against their new leaders?"

"You"re saying there will always be peasants and there will always be leaders?"
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"I"m saying peasants need good leaders. The heart of any regime or empire is its workers, call them peasants or whatever you like. While their will is strong the regime is strong. Break the workers, break the empire."

Morgen"s eyes narrowed in thought and he examined his hands closely. "Is this why there are no large empires anymore?" He dug under a nail to remove something Konig couldn"t see.

"Well, part of the reason. The truth is the G.o.ds seek to keep mankind divided, weak."

"But what about the empires of old? The entire world used to be one empire, the Menschheit Letzte Imperium, I think it was called."

"Where did you learn this?"

"I read it."

Who the h.e.l.ls gave Morgen access to these books? Konig made a mental note to look into it later. "The G.o.ds realized a united humanity is not in their best interest."

"And that"s why I have to Ascend?"

"Yes. You will unite all mankind and give us a future we control. You will bring back the days of empire." The boy stared up at him, unblinking. "You will be the Geborene Damonen G.o.d," Konig finished, filling his words with stone certainty.

Morgen glanced about his room, eyes damp. "I know. But . . . I fell down the other day and skinned my knee. I bled and cried. Do G.o.ds bleed? Do G.o.ds cry?"

He must have no doubts. "G.o.ds bleed if they choose to." Konig glanced at Morgen"s knee. "Look at your knee now. There is no mark, only perfection. You are healed by the faith of your worshipers as only a G.o.d can be." Konig swallowed his own doubts and pressed on. "You moved your toys without touching them. Do you think anyone can do this? I am an extremely powerful Geisteskranken, yet I can not do what you did."

Morgen stared at the motionless wood men and picked one up. He rotated it in his fingers, examining it from all angles, his face set in childish concentration. "It was effortless." He set the peasant back on the table. "I wanted to see what would happen. I"m not even sure I was in control."

"Of course you were. These are signs of your impending Ascension. Reality bends to your will." And you will bend to mine; you will have no choice.

The boy"s perfect forehead crinkled in a childish frown, and for several seconds he gnawed on his lower lip while examining his fingernails in minute detail.

What is he looking for, they"re perfectly clean. Has he forgotten I"m here?

Konig cleared his throat and the boy glanced at him, face strangely expressionless.

"What will my Ascension be like?" Morgen asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Konig, both knowing and dreading the question. "Your Ascension will be the moment you become our G.o.d."

"In the books I"ve read . . ." Morgen focused on Konig, stared him straight in the eyes in a way no one had in many years; most people instinctively shied from the gaze of a Gefahrgeist. "People only Ascend after their death."

Konig, face carefully blank, eyes drilling into the boy"s soul, willing him to drop the subject, asked, "What books?"

Morgen shrugged and glanced away as if something more interesting had caught his attention. How had he done that? How had he broken eye contact so casually? It should have been a colossal effort.

"Histories and religious texts. The Wahnvor Stellung have an entire pantheon of Ascended heroes as well as their old G.o.ds. There"s also local demiG.o.ds, which are minor deities, Ascended people and spirits—"

"I know what a demiG.o.d is," Konig snapped, annoyed at being lectured by a child.

"—and in each and every case," Morgen continued as if Konig hadn"t spoken, "they Ascended only after their death. I have been unable to find a single case of Ascension occurring before death."

And there it is. Will he ask the question? "There exists endless knowledge beyond that found in ancient texts," said Konig.

Morgen tilted his small face, thought about this for some moments, and then shrugged it away as if irrelevant, which of course it was. "I must die to Ascend," he said.

Interesting—not a question. Had Aufschlag already told the boy? "True," said Konig. "You need not fear—"

"I don"t."

Konig quelled a spike of anger at being interrupted yet again. "As I was saying, you need not fear; I will be gentle—"

"You."

Konig cursed inwardly. How had that slipped out? He bent until his eyes were on a level with the boy"s, forced his will upon the child"s young mind. He must see it my way. "Who else could I trust?"

For an instant doubt flashed across the boy"s face. "True," Morgen finally agreed. "Only someone with the best interest of the Geborene at heart must help me Ascend. Otherwise—"

"Yes." Konig didn"t want the boy examining this too closely. Contemplation might lead to doubt and that was something Konig could ill afford in his would-be G.o.d.

Morgen offered an awkward smile. "I"m glad it will be you. Aufschlag would never forgive himself."

Which is his greatest weakness. Konig offered a hand to the lad, did his best to make his flat gray eyes warm and caring. You must love me. "Now come," he said, "give me a hug."

Morgen dove into Konig"s arms and he awkwardly tussled the boy"s hair. Parenting was not something he had expected to do when he took on the mantle of High Priest.

"I won"t let you down." The boy"s voice was m.u.f.fled in the fabric of Konig"s robes.

"I know. You"ll make me proud."

"I"ll be a good G.o.d. I"ll bring back empire like you want."

He stroked the boy"s fine blond hair. "I know."

KONIG, LOST IN thought, stalked the oddly shaped and twisting halls of the Geborene church. Acolytes scrambled from his path, pressing themselves to the walls as if they sought to crush themselves flat.

Morgen had been too close to an uncomfortable truth: Only someone with the best interest of the Geborene at heart must help me Ascend. The child would never understand, it wasn"t that simple. Where did Konig end and the Geborene Damonen begin? Without him at the helm the church would surely falter and fail.

The boy must die by my hand. Those whom you slay serve in the Afterdeath. If all else failed, that truth would be his escape. The new G.o.d would serve, would save him from his demons.

Can you do it? Can you kill a child? Yes; yes, he could. In ordering Aufschlag"s experiments, he"d been responsible for countless deaths. But you"ve never actually slain anyone before, not really. He"d never used a blade to cut flesh, never choked life from a throat. Could he poison the boy? If I did, would the boy still serve in the Afterdeath? Would Konig have killed Morgen, or would the poison have killed him? It was the sort of annoying question philosophers could discuss for years and never answer. Was poisoning different from killing someone with a knife? Were these just two different weapons? It felt different. Poison felt distancing. Perhaps among the tediously sane beliefs of the ma.s.ses there could be one answer. The strength of Konig"s delusions, however, defined his reality. The truth was, he believed it mattered.

And that was all that mattered.

KONIG RETURNED TO his chambers to find his three Doppels waiting. Abandonment sat in the high-backed chair Konig used when receiving important guests. Trepidation and Acceptance stood to either side of the chair.

This arrangement reveals much. I must watch Abandonment carefully. How long have they been here plotting?

Abandonment spoke first. "We have not been sitting here, planning to harm you. We are the only ones who will never abandon you. We can"t."

Konig snorted. "I haven"t suddenly grown daft in the last hour. Save your talk."

"Morgen loves us," said Acceptance quietly. "He loves us and we will do him harm. The one person who ever loved us."

"He"ll abandon us," Abandonment snapped at Acceptance. "Like everyone else, you pathetic worm. Morgen is a tool to be used and nothing more. We will pretend to love him as long as it suits us."

Acceptance met Abandonment"s eyes, challenging. "We"ll kill him."

"That was always the plan. He must Ascend, and we must have control when he does."

"The plan could be changed," pleaded Acceptance. "We could save the boy. We don"t know he has to die to Ascend. If enough people believe in him, he might Ascend anyway."

A wave of relief washed over Konig. His Doppels remained divided. He stepped forward and said, "No. The plan cannot be changed. What is the love of one child in comparison to the worship of millions? Morgen is a tool to be used and nothing more." He felt a stab of annoyance at mirroring Abandonment"s words. Had the Doppel"s influence grown beyond the others?

"We know you don"t believe that," said Acceptance. "We know what the child means to you."

Trepidation, the quietest, most reticent Doppel, looked from Acceptance to Abandonment and finally to Konig. "The boy is dangerous. His power grows too quickly. We will lose control."

"There is no we. I will control him," said Konig, but suspected Trepidation might be onto something. This was the advantage of being able to speak to one"s subconscious. Most people floundered about, never really knowing what they thought. He might not trust them, but in a way, they were the ones he could most trust. "Tell me the rest, Trepidation."

"Are Morgen"s powers a sign of the faith of the Geborene believers, or are they his own delusions taking form? Are we creating a G.o.d, or just an extremely powerful Geisteskranken?"

"Is there a difference?" asked Konig. "Does it not make sense he becomes a Geisteskranken before Ascending? If anything, this tells us our plans are working." He growled in anger and corrected himself. "My plans."

"No," whispered Trepidation. "This is too fast. The boy must have been unbalanced to begin with. If his powers develop too fast, we will be unable to force his Ascension. He may fall short of being a G.o.d, but a Geisteskranken backed by the worship of all Selbstha.s.s could overpower us."

"No," disagreed Acceptance. "The child loves us. He trusts us."

"And you are a fool to trust him." Abandonment rose from the chair and paced the floor, his crimson robes whispering against the thick carpet. The Doppel mimicked Konig"s gait perfectly—obviously.

Did Abandonment"s distrust refer to Morgen or himself? He often suspected a flow of subtext beneath everything his Doppels said and did. It seemed they communicated on a level he could detect but not comprehend. As he felt earlier, he could trust them, but only inasmuch as he could trust in himself to understand them—and right now, there was doubt.

Trepidation sat in the now-empty chair. "If Morgen understands his power, he will become very dangerous. We"d be fools not to consider the possibility he might be using us for his own ends."

Acceptance looked distraught and raised his hands as if in supplication. "He"s just a boy. A child. We created who he is."

"No," Trepidation disagreed. "We create who he will become. We have no idea what kind of person this child is. We must kill him now and start the experiment over. With what we have learned from our failures, the next batch would certainly succeed."

Konig chuckled, relief flooding him as he realized what the Doppels were trying to do. "Ah, I see. Yes, begin the experiment again. Of course." He glanced at the reflections of himself gathered in the ma.s.sive mirror, a crowd of identically gaunt, bald men. They hungrily watched the goings-on in a world they couldn"t touch. Konig turned to glare at each of the Doppels in turn. "Think me a weak-minded fool, do you? This experiment took a decade and I shudder to think how strong the three of you might be ten years from now. If I start again I doubt I"ll survive to see its completion. You want to control the G.o.d yourselves. Well, my sneaky little Doppels, that will not happen. I will raise this G.o.d. I will harness his power. I will bottle the three of you forever." He pointed at Trepidation. "Out of my chair."

"We"ve just been keeping it warm with our imaginary a.s.ses," said Acceptance, sketching a quick bow. Once Konig sat in the now-vacated chair, Acceptance added, "We shall never overthrow you."

Konig frowned at the Doppel. "But you shall try."

Acceptance shrugged. "Possibly. But you shall always be the real a.s.s."

Konig saw Acceptance"s quickly hidden grin and the covert look the three Doppels shared. Had they tricked him, or did they now seek to confuse the matter by making him think they"d tricked him? It didn"t matter.

Morgen would be his salvation . . . and their doom.