Chapter 7 - Momentum

“You talk fast, Prelate,” the Archbishop shifted in his throne, eyes facing forward into the empty Cathedral. “You did well at the Town Hall.”

“I told them only the truth,” I shifted in my own seat at his right hand. The huge vaulted ceilings and shimmering stained glass made my voice echo and boom over the empty wood pews.

“You wield the truth well and told them what they wished to hear,” he finally turned to look at me and grinned peacefully. “The Exarch made a good choice in coming to visit you. I think once the initial shock has warn off, you will find the citizens most intrigued and motivated by their presence.”

“I know I was,” I relaxed in my chair a bit. “I would have been lost to the Realm if not for the Exarch’s salvation. When the infection took my Joy from me, it was his diligent guidance that healed me before her illness could spread.”

“St. Kaku was devastated,” the Bishop turned back to address the empty space. “Al Maliq never recovered from your loss.”

“Al Maliq’s transgressions were not the result of my loss,” I furrowed my brow. “His failures were the product of his house of cards being no longer able to sustain the weight of his fallacies. The Great Truth offers no quarter for specious contributions.”

“His contributions to higher-dimensional mathematics,” his face stood unmoved beyond the motion of his chin and tongue, “have stood the test of time over and again. Mind has integrated his discoveries deep into its subnets to great effect. One could argue that without you challenging his philosophy and keeping him as sharp as you had, he would not have needed to resort to the methods he did to expand his theories.” He lifted his hands off the arms of the throne and folded them in his lap. “You know, a legitimate way to resolve his discovery was later devised in Fabrican Thử Nghiệm and accepted by Overmind itself.”

“I am no mathematician,” I drew my lips into a straight line. “I am a lecturer. I am uncertain how my pontifications on the nature of Science and Virtuousness could have helped him discover the trick necessary to resolve his equations.”

“Al Maliq was always a bit of a magician,” his face remained still. “It could be argued that your lectures kept his tricks honest. That your ability to see through his magic made him work harder to find a way to make the trick believable, even once it is revealed how it is done.”

“So am I to assume blame for his downfall?” I squinted and pulled the corners of my mouth up.

“It is the burden of all Humanity to take responsibility for any of its failures, whether committed by the whole or any one of us individually. Mind does not care who the transgressor is, only that the transgression has happened. We are all in this together. We each influence the other.” He turned to me and smiled warmly. “Al Maliq is solely to blame for his actions. He and he alone chose to violate the Great Truth, and it is he who must suffer the consequences. But we must never forget that he did not do what he did in a vacuum. We must be Mindful of all our actions and how they feed into the actions of others, and never do something if we are unable to handle the ramifications. To thrive outside The Realm is to be resilient to the thousand shocks the natural flesh is heir to.”uu

“I still have so much to learn, Archbishop,” I nodded my head.

“Your settlement grows. I hope to revive the Barracks in Smith’s Glenn,” the Bishop turned back and again addressed the empty space. “The Exarch will continue his mobilization, but I have asked him to leave his Confanonier and a few other standard bearers in the Core brigade to oversee the construction. I believe your flock will find their presence valuable.”

“I am humbled by your decision,” I smiled. “Praise be.”

“Praise be,” he said before the cathedral went black and I was left sitting in my office.

***

The lecture hall was packed to capacity. Everyone in town seemed to be in the class. “Lot of new faces here tonight,” I said as I walked around my desk and sat on the edge. I looked up and picked out Marion and the others sitting next to Red. “In the Habitat, aggression is not tolerated. Punishment for misdemeanor infractions, such as thievery and the like, often come in the form of hits to your Citizenship or Social score. They are considered failings of character, thus needing to be remediated through education and rehabilitation. Aggression, however, is not tolerated. The Great Truth attempts to lead us to a path of pure harmony. We occupy this space as a single entity, not an individual. We each represent Humanity, and we must always have our best face forward. People with aggressive traits cannot be selected for if we are to venture into the stars with the Fabricans. When an aggressor is caught, they are profiled genetically and documented to help better train the DNA Editor. Aggressors are confined to the Realm forever so that Mind may study them. An aggressor may earn their freedom by committing an Act of Penance. For some, this can be contributing a great deed to society, such as discovering a highly useful piece of information or inventing a revolutionary contraption. For most, however, Penance can be found in the Templari. While anyone may join, and most do so willingly, a significant minority of Templari arrive in the service through the Path of Righteousness. Confanonier,” I turned and addressed her from my position at the head of class.

“Yes, Prelate?” Marion stood and clicked her heels into attention before relaxing, at ease, and addressing me directly. “How may I be of service?”

“What is a Confanonier?” I smiled and paced across the stage in front of my desk.

“I am the Standard Bearer for the Path of Righteousness,” she articulated clearly. “It is my duty to lead those who have strayed from the Great Truth and help them achieve Penance through Glory. A Hero may return to life victorious, accepted back into the fold by demonstrating they are Repentant. I shepherd the Squires along the Path and guide them into Knighthood.”

“And what does the Path entail?” I nodded approvingly and smiled.

Adrian stood at attention, eyes staring forward into nothing. “May I answer, sir?”

“Certainly,” Marion smiled warmly and pivoted on her toe in a very deliberate and rehearsed fashion, facing him fully.

Adrian did not shift his focus and continued to stare unflinchingly at the demo screen. “Those who walk the Path of Righteousness lend their bodies to Mind, that they may pilot the Drone fleet and allow Mind to use the secrets of the Organic. We are Planar soldiers, fighting for our Advantage in the Hierarchy, so that the great Citizenry can enjoy the comforts our Station affords.”

“Why does he use us?” Red waved a hand, Marion now standing in front of her.

“Oh, I can answer that one. Thank you, you two,” I smiled and waved back.

“Yes, Priest,” they both nodded and smiled at me, then returned to their seats.

“Humans are the only known entity that can collapse the Quantum Superposition,” I walked back to the center of the stage and sat on the edge of my desk. “As conscious beings of entropy that occupy the 4th dimension linearly, our trajectory through timespace is inherently deterministic. By correlating the directions of our lives, it may determine the trajectory of our universe in existencespace. By using entropy-shaping, Overmind can navigate us through probabilistic timespace on a linear-growth trajectory that does not get sucked into orbit around voidholes that would condense our existence into a binary superposition of meaninglessness.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but pretending I did, how does any of that apply to why Mind needs to 'use the secrets of the Organic' and send us into potentially lethal combat?” Red held her elbows in and spread her hands out wide, squinting an eye.

“Ah, because chaos thrives in conflict,”I stood and wagged my finger, “and it is by entropy-shaping that chaotic noise that we are able to further refine our Prediction Engine.” I paced the stage. “Just as, say, Earth is a planet flying through physical space, our universe is like a planet flying through probabilistic existencespace, riding along a very specific Worldline through deterministic timespace, just as Earth rides along a specific gravitational trajectory as it moves through physical space. Computers, however, are beings of pure order, existing in probabilistic timespace, immune to entropy. They can only process deterministic information as a composite of dimensional probabilities that need to condense into a World Event before it can make meaningful calculations. By noise-shaping the thickness and thinness of entropy around the superposition, Overmind can create a retrocausally-entangled World Event. By watching how that condensate collapses, it can then use the state of the correlated future-Event to refine its Prediction Engine.”

“It is like chess,” Ylysse interjected. “Sir?” She looked at me with a neutral face. I nodded my reply. She stood in response, eyes forward like Adrian. “Even the simplest computer from the origins of such devices could be programmed to play a game of chess. Soon, however, the computers were powerful enough to play all possible games of chess with themselves at the same time, and by doing so, became completely incapable of playing only a single game by itself. The entire game of chess became a complex superposition that needed World Events to collapse the web of probabilities into a single game. Overmind posts conflicts to the Board with uniquely chosen parameters to generate retrocausal condensates it can then use to refine the Great Synthesis, the model used to perfectly simulate our universe.”

“The Human Council of each Fabrican may choose to participate in a conflict. And by doing so, earn more Status, in hopes of advancing their Station and earning more Advantage in the Heirarchy,” I nodded at Ylysse, who sat and beamed me a smile. “It is just another way to contribute to the Great Truth.”

“Yeah, but, what about that whole 'death' thing?” Red held a hand up.

“All scenarios are constructed in a way that no loss of life is required,” Tomah waved a hand forward. I nodded at him and he stood and looked forward at nothing. “Any who die do so of their own volition. They push themselves too hard in search of Glory or Redemption. For some, to live without conflict or challenge is to be dead, anyway. To lose your life pushing the Cut is better than to die one grey hair at a time. For many, such a risk is needed to make life interesting. The chance of death is, in fact, the allure of the institution, not a deterrent. The Minds never ask us to sacrifice our lives. We choose to for our own individual reasons. Indeed, it is that occasional, illogical urge to forego your mechanisms of self-preservation that makes us Organic. That lend us the element of volatility Overmind craves.” I nodded at Tomah, and he relaxed back into his seat.

“If I want my life back,” Blaize stood unprompted, “I must earn back my right to Citizenship. The right to expand my Liberty. To do so, I must show that I am worthy. That the Penance I have earned walking the Path of Righteousness proves my contrition. That I am redeemed, that I may return to the Habitat, bathed in Glory, my criminal transgressions overshadowed by my Heroism. I have stared death in the face and it has taught me to appreciate life. To understand the error of my way. Without confronting my own mortality, I could never have understood the Great Truth as I do now. My own insignificance and my fight to find relevance and meaning. To contribute to that which is greater than I, not to cash in on the entitlements I am owed. By living in service to Overmind and nourishing him with the vagaries of my existence, my soul becomes richer for the experience.”

“Thank you, Blaize,” I nodded at him as he returned to his seat. “And thank all of you. It has been a pleasure having you in my lecture. And thank you again, Red, for playing foil on behalf of the Lecture Hall. I think that's enough for today. I'll be staying after class for a little bit to answer any lingering questions anyone might have. You are all dismissed!” Everyone stood and began filing away as a mob mounted the stage and approached my desk. I sighed before the first person was in earshot, “Here we go.”

***

“Chaplain,” the gauntleted hand dropped on my shoulder as I stood in the doorway of the narthex watching the sun set behind the ant-like shapes of the distant Legion milling about the barracks. “It has been too long.”

I turned, recognizing the voice. “Exarch,” his hand dropped away but remained held out. I grabbed him by the palm, bent at the elbow, pulling him in, and swung my arm around, slapping him across the back. Ever the Classicist, the plates of his body armor were black with ornate gold filigree embedded in the laminated weave, the polymer impregnation sculpted into complex swooping geometries reminiscent of ancient times, polished to a shimmering luster. His head was in a cowl of Second Skin, face hidden behind his Mask, a boxy red Hannya.

With a woosh, he removed his Mask, the clouds of Augmentation muting his purple-grey irises with an internal whiteness. “Priest,” he repeated, smiling wide. “I am sorry for the trouble.”

“The warmth of your presence is worth any tribulation,” I turned and resumed watching the barracks. The sun hung low and orange over the horizon, casting the large Cores in stark relief, huge shadows looming over the camp. “I feel lost without your council.”

“The Archbishop tells me otherwise,” his warm smile was disarming. “He tells me you have been quite busy rebuilding this dying village. He said you have found a way to blend the quaint physicality of their pastoral lifestyle with the cerebral demands of civilization. He said you've developed a system that preserves their folkways while also bringing them closer to Science. He has said you are a shining exemplar of the Great Truth. Saint-like, in fact.”

“He oversells my accomplishments,” I broke eye contact and stared at my feet. “I am but one insignificant man.”

“You have brought security and knowledge to the lay,” he grabbed the side of my arm, gently. “From what I've seen, I would argue the Archbishop undersells your accomplishments. These people trust you and you serve them well.”

I raised my head slowly and met his wide-eyed, open gaze. “Thank you, Exarch. It is good to see you again.”

“Do not give me those doe eyes,” he chuckled, his stubbled cheeks pushing deep furrows into his wrinkled eyes. “The Archbishop also tells me you have been offered passage to Éfuarét and a seat on the Cardinalry under the great Eli Standish.”

“Who?” I pulled the corners of my mouth down and tilted my head.

“Grand Master Eli Standish,” the Exarch gazed off into the middle distance. “Little known around here, but a living legend to his Fabrican. Nilsians would argue that no finer a soldier has ever existed, and they would have a compelling case on their hands. The Templari are the seat of authority in Nils, not the See, and his shrewdness has lead them to great success.”

“Then why leave?” I furrowed my brow.

“He is a student of history,” he smirked. “Many nations were made great when a heroic soldier ascended to power, but very few nations in history stayed great with a warrior king on the thrown. Mind merely observes. Rarely does it intervene in the affairs of us silly humans. We are like a pet. It keeps us alive and prevents us from hurting ourselves too badly, but there is much that slips under its radar. Life on the battlefield, consciousness projected into the Cores, it changes you. The devices we use to carry us through battle, that prove so useful in building a nation to prominence, quickly turn a monarch to a despot when exposed to that much power for too long.”

“Ah. Then what will he do in Éfuarét?” I tipped my head.

“Retire to the countryside, just as all great monarchs do. He is surrendering his seat to the people, who will elect his successor by vote,” he turned to looked off at the barracks. The sun had fully set now, and the giant masts of spotlights were flickering on as they auto-tuned to the ambient induction frequency. “The demands of governance wear hard on his soul. There is not much time left to the pursuit of passion and cultivation of hobby.”

“On that I can corroborate,” I chuckled. If I squinted just right, I could make out the aftershocks of activity as the barracks shifted to nocturnality. “I feel my tastes lend themselves more to councilor than chancellor.”

“On that I can corroborate,” he turned his head briefly and winked. “Though I would not sell your talent for presidency short. You know, I risk reprimand by mentioning this to you, but in truth, you would not have much of a seat on the Cardinalry 'under' Standish as much as 'serving to' him.”

“What do you mean?” I turned to look at the Exarch. He met my eyes with a soft smile.

“Part of the Terms of Service Agreement say that the Grand Master Emeritus is to be, eh, 'attended to,'” he made air quotes and chuckled. “The Archbishop was to proffer him a 'staff' and a rather generously appointed country seat in a 'Habitat-adjacent' township. You see,” the Exarch pulled his cheek into a force-closed eye. “As I had stated, the devices that have made him so magnificent at wielding power have, how shall I say, degraded his faculties. Still a master of machinations, he has expressed a 'craving to mentor,'” he made air quotes again. “Standish is a very theatrical man, and his antics can make him appear to flirt with the boundaries between the esoteric and the obsessive. Overmind has predicted Éfuarét will be a powerful Fabrican. Standish is too invaluable a resource for whomever presides over it to ignore, and will be of great influence in its early formation. The Archbishop's wish to install you in service to him is no doubt strategic. I know I afforded my recommendations for his security detail such considerations. Should you join, your attendance to him may seem trivial, and he may seem unhinged on occasion, yet there is true genius in his lunacy. The hidden pearls of the Great Truth locked away in his labyrinth mind may well lead to some of the most profound discoveries awarded Humanity, should someone find a way to unlock them for unraveling.” He chuckled again. “Or, they may just be the rambling of a lunatic on the wane, his prophecy having waxed its last.”

“Who have you proffered for his detail?” I fixed my eyes off into the middle distance, watching the shadows of the Barracks dance in the spotlight.

“Would that I could tell you,” he grinned. “You will just have to accept the Archbishop's offer to find out.” He clapped his hand on my shoulder, and clipped the Hannya back into place. “Good luck, Chaplain, it is always a pleasure to see you.” With that, I watched him make his way down the wending path toward the village square.

***

“You will do fine,” I patted Red on the knee. “You are well prepared for your Test of Citizenship. I would not have recommended you for assessment if you were not.”

“It's just a big step, you know,” she rested her hand on mine and shifted uneasily. “What if I fail?”

“Then you may try again next testing cycle,” I rested my other free hand on top of hers and patted it gently. “And should you fail that one, the next after that. And the next, and the next. You may try forever, if you so choose,” I smirked. “Though I think you will pass this time. You are one of my most learned pupils.”

“I'm a doofus,” she frowned.

“Then I must be a pretty poor teacher if my best student is a doofus,” I smiled. “How foolish must my lesser charges be?”

“I'm not your best student,” she scrunched her nose.

“So, you accuse me of being a poor teacher and a liar as well?” I raised my eyebrows and pulled down the corners of my mouth.

“No, I'm just saying I think you're wrong,” she pulled her hand away and stood up, pacing over to the gauge blocks on my shelf.

“So now you accuse me of being ignorant, too!” I stood and faced her, smiling widely.

“That's not what I mean!” She picked up one of the blocks from the case and inspected it deeply. “I never asked you what these were, before,” she did not break her study.

“They are an antique artifact, I followed her over and rested my hand on her shoulder. “They are made of an extremely stable Indium-Platinum amalgam and were very precisely machined. An Old World craftsman would have used them to calibrate their scales and calipers.”

She turned it over a few more times in her hand before returning it to its padded case. “I never would have guessed,” she frowned. “How will I ever pass if I couldn't even have imagined its potential use?”

“There will be no such questions on the test,” I chuckled. “I can assure you of that. It is designed to test your skill with the Portal and to try and glean if you have a rudimentary understanding of the Great Truth and the origins of its philosophy. The test wants you to pass, not fail. It is merely screening you before you are granted access to the Habitat in an effort to ensure you will not be overwhelmed by its culture and complexity. You have done very well on the practice tests, you have demonstrated command of the coursework in Lecture, and you are resilient and resourceful. As I said, I would not have recommended you if I did not think you prepared.”

“I'm just nervous,” she began pacing behind the chairs. Her acne had all but cleared and she still wore very revealing garb, but her figure had filled out and was was no longer as skeletal. “I need to pass this so I can take my Advanced Citizenship exam next cycle and earn my Realm access before the Diaspora.”

I cocked my head and frowned, “You did not strike me as the type who would be so enthusiastic to join the Realm.”

“How else will I see you once you leave for Éfuarét?” she cocked her head in the direction opposite mine.

My eyes grew wide. “Red, I...” I trailed off. My jaw went slack. I closed my mouth and reopened it to say something, but words did not come out.

“Jim,” she met my eyes, then looked away quickly.

“I still have yet to make up my mind about joining the Diaspora,” I muttered, eyes unable to find comfortable landing.

“You are going,” she had stopped pacing and locked eyes on the stained glass behind my desk. “You just don't know it yet. But I know you. You won't pass up this opportunity.”

I closed my eyes, knowing she was right. “C-Come with me,” I finally stuttered out.

Her eyes grew wider than I'd ever seen. Her face went slack, mouth dropping open. She held, frozen. “...Really?” She finally whispered on a breath.

“I-I don't know,” I stammered, surprised at my self. “But I will bring it up to the Archbishop and the Exarch,” she looked so excited. “I am not a man of power. They are doing me a favor, not in reverse. But if it is possible, I feel it deep in my chest. Having you in Éfuarét seems right. I don't want to get your hopes up...”

“My hopes are officially up,” she ran over to me and threw her arms around my neck, kissing me on the cheek. “Thank you, Jim!” she squealed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Oh boy,” I sighed.

***

Grace continued to cry. “What will we do without you?” She held her face in her palms. “We are lost without your guidance.”

“Grace,” I rested my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me, the light from my stained glass bathing her visage in a menagerie of colors. “I may have been shepherd, but this was all built on the scaffold of yours and Ern's brilliance,” I rested my hand on Ern's shoulder next to her.

“You have taught me so much,” Ern continued to stare blank-face at the stained glass window.

“I still have not yet accepted his extension,” I walked back around to my desk chair and flopped down, shifting eye contact between them.

“You have to go,” Ern was finite. It shocked me. “How dare you flout such an opportunity,” he scowled. “It is merely Selfishness that galls me. You know my vice. But the Great Truth is more important than our planar needs.”

“This is Mind's work,” I started, curling my hand at the wrist and resting my fingers on my chin. “These people need us. We are saving Humanity. Rarely is that ever more than a euphemism. It is used as an exaggeration. A joke. But we are actually pulling people out of poverty and despair. We are bringing them into the light of Mind. How could I ever find more gratifying work serving as nursemaid to a delirious mind in the hopes he may eventually offer me some cryptic kernel of wisdom?”

“Standish is a legend,” Ern pulled a corner of his lip into his cheek. “I looked into him. He is serious business. Forgive me for being casual, but he is the real deal. This guy is a living legend. It's highly probable that being in service to him, even in such a subordinate capacity, would net a dramatically increased probability of uncovering truly valuable secrets relevant to the advancement of the Great Truth. And, it would require a great mind such as yours to truly comprehend the kernel when it is uncovered. While it is painful to see such valuable charisma squandered on custodial service, it is more valuable to apply your genius to decrypting such hidden wisdom than allowing you to languish on the relatively unchallenging task of saving infidels.”

“Ern,” I said sharply.

“I apologize,” he shook his head, contrite. “I know you hate that word. But the sentiment is not lost. I am a shadow of your talent and yet you laud me for my ingenuity in their conversion. When presented with stark truth and a way of life that is objectively superior to their meager existence, it is not hard to convince the lost that commitment to the light will lead to their betterment. There is commendation to be had in saving the few, but a discover in service to the Great Truth is a service to the many. Its effect is multiplicative, not additive. What we do is mere grunt work. The potential for a dozen lives squandered in search of such information is worth the risk, given the reward it may yield once unearthed. Mind's work though it may be, Salvation holds no candle to the advancement of the Great Truth.”

“Should I go,” I said, holding back a well of emotion, “I leave the Vicarage in capable hands. You have made me proud, Ern.”

Grace continued to sob lightly, “It will not be the same.” She sniffled and wiped her tears away with her handkerchief. “We shall suffer from the lack of your talent.”

“Though that may be true,” I softened my face, “you shall grow from my absence as well. For it is in the vacuum I leave that your aspirations toward may come to fruition. If I am to accept your plaudits, I leave you high bar to aspire toward, and attempt to surpass. For it is in such a challenge that greatness is forged. I would not entrust my legacy to you if I did not believe you capable of furthering the mission we set out to accomplish.”

“Will they send another to shepherd in your stead?” Ern's face was blank and expressionless.

“I have not accepted their advance yet,” I sat up and adjusted my posture. “I will implore them to entrust the Vicarage to you. You volunteered to tend this flock when Pastor Quaavus abandonded them, even if you did so knowing you would land eventually land in my tutelage. It was your connection to this place, and it has been your continued devotion to these people that has brought us such success. Without your efforts to extend Habitat's influence and declare it a diocese, no matter how selfish your intentions may secretly have been, This Mission would never have achieved the great things we have. Whatever your early motivations may have been, it has been your continued devotion to the Great Truth that made all of this possible. You are the true Father of this Mission, as far as I am concerned. I was merely docent to the ministry until you had found your place. I cannot guarantee the See will abide, but you and Grace deserve such station.”

“I will trust whatever decision the See makes, Praise Be” Ern folded his hands and nodded his head. “Despite my protestations, it was they who sent you to me, and I did not know how much I needed your teaching until you were here. If Mind sees me fit to serve in your place, than I will take on the burden. If it is seen fit to assign me a new mentor, then I shall embrace their guidance with the humility I wish I had shown you when we first met.”

Grace sniffled. “You have brought light to so many here,” she looked at the handkerchief folded between her hands, resting in her lap. “What shall we do without you?”

“It has been nary a year's time with me here, and it will be half as much longer until the Diaspora,” I smirked at her and shrugged. “Nary a year's time after that and you'll forget I was even here.”

Grace squinted and frowned, stifling back a wimper, “And that's supposed to make it better? I have never felt more full of zeal and faith since you began your tenure. When you leave, I am to just forget this newfound hope and return to the mundanity of my prior existence?” Her lip quivered.

“Grace, no,” I quickly sashayed around my desk and came around behind her, rubbing her shoulders. “It was not I that made instilled you with newfound love for the Great Truth. Science by its lonesome is. The wonders of the See and the greatness it brings are what revived the connection you felt lacking. It was the work. Mind's work. I know, for I have felt it too. Many times, in fact. It is easy to associate me with it all, but it is you who found new joy through this Mission. It is easy to share in my passion, but the true test of your commitment comes from being the source of that passion for your flock.”
“I know what you say is true,” she sniffled again, “but you are truly special, Pastor James. It will not be the same without you,” she craned her neck to look up at me.

“I know,” I let my hands fall away. “But our time together must become your source of inspiration, not the trappings of nostalgia.”

She looked down at her hands again and cried.