| Faith - The Word, part one |
Back to 'In The Beginning'
The Word, part one (15/03/01 )
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," said William Robertson. He
stood at the head of a long, lacquered table, facing a group of
about two dozen seated men and women in business suits. He
himself was well-built, with square shoulders, a jutting chin, a
sharp, hawk-like nose, and piercing blue eyes. Tonight, he was
simply but elegantly attired, in a dark, finely cut sport jacket
and matching pants, with an elaborate bow-tie fastened by a
rather plain single pin. Wealth, status, and wisdom clung to his
clothing like a tough stain. After pausing for a moment to gain
the attention of those seated, he continued.
"Our company has come a long way in a short time. A few years
ago, we worked long and hard - at decimating our supplies of
coffee. We were on a mission: to make a free-walking robot. We
went through prototype after prototype, and at last, we got
something right. The government stepped in, and a few dollars
later, we had a whole new research lab complex, and a new goal.
"The year before last, we banded together under the banner of our
ground-breaking new military technology, the combat mek. As you
all know, this technology has revolutionized the modern world,
giving Alliance militaries an unprecendented edge in the struggle
for peace and unity." William flashed the audience his best
smile, then composed his face and went on. "With the release of
the original prototype of the Laser mek, our group blossomed into
a fully developed industrial manufacturer. Our newfound assets
allows us to reap benefits untold.
"On behalf of Hermes Systems, Incorporated, I would like to
welcome you all to our company's third anniversary executive
party." A thin smattering of applause followed this last
statement. William let it continue for a moment, then held up a
hand for silence. "And now, if you will permit me," he said, "I
would like to introduce our guest speaker for tonight: composites
research pioneer Dr. Frank Deluz!"
He gestured for the man at the other end of the table to rise.
Mr. Deluz stood, fingering a set of notecards, and after a
moment's hesitation, launched into his speech about the latest
armor manufacturing techniques. The little man's eyes shifted
nervously around the room as he spoke, and he relied heavily on
his notecards, and on a small holoprojector built into the center
of the table. He seemed intelligent, and his material might have
been useful to the company, but he lacked the proper presence
that one needs to make a good presentation, and William soon lost
interest. The information could always be reviewed at a later
date.
"Fascinating stuff, isn't it?"
Williams turned to face the person who had spoken - an aging
Vendorian, looking rather comical with its pointed ears sticking
up past the brim of its round little hat.
"Certainly is." He smiled again. "You must be..."
"Meio S'ran, head manager."
If not for William's level of self-control, his eyes would have
widened. They let an alien work in employee managment?
"Ah, I'm William Robertson. I'm the secretary for the head of
public relations. Nice to meet you, sir."
"Nice to meet you too."
William went back to listening to Dr. Deluz give his
presentation. He sat up stiffly, and did his best to be
attentive. He tried to focus on the speaker, but he found that he
couldn't. An eerie, inexplicable sensation of diziness passed
over him, and then was gone almost as soon as it began. He looked
up to see the Vendorian looking at him with concern. He had a
distinct, but unsubstantiated, feeling that it had been watching
him.
Following the lecture, food and wine were offered. William
accepted the wine, to be sociable, but never drank more than a
few sips. He preferred to have a clear head when in the presence
of others, lest they think poorly of him, and he wasn't too good
at keeping alcohol down. He watched in amazement as the alien
next to him downed glass after glass, noting that Vendorians must
have more efficient livers than humans. The drinking seemed to
have no ill effect on it.
"You a fan of ancient history?" The Vendorian asked after its
fourth glass.
"As I matter of fact I am, sir." He wasn't, not in the least, but
if it made the head manager happy - even an alien head manager -
then he would be. Too much reading into the events of the past
had always disgusted him - '20/20 hindsight', as they say.
"I've done a lot of study on the development of different
cultures, and how their environments affected their systems of
belief," William added. That was true.
"Indeed," the Vendorian replied, pleased and somehow relieved.
"Especially on Earth, people of ancient times had a lot of
strange and interesting things to say about the world around
them. They achieved remarkable things, considering the
environments in which they worked. The Egyptians, for example,
worked wonders in architecture. Tier upon tier of stone. Each
stone had to be cut from the quarry, shaped to perfection, and
placed on rollers. Then they hauled it to a raft, and it traveled
for miles down the Nile River. Once it got there, and they hauled
it all the way up to the structure, they had to drag it up a
spiraling ramp of packed soil, around and around, until they
reached the top. Then they'd have to do it over again, adding
more ramp each time, until every stone was in place. Why, they
even capped it with marble, and filled it with treasure. All in
honor of a single, dead ruler. Imagine: what would it be like to
have your name etched in that much stone and beauty, for all of
the rest of the world to see?"
"I'm sorry?" William, while making the pretext of paying
attention, had let his mind wander. A mistake, it seemed.
"Nevermind, I'm just rambling on," the old Vendorian said. "Well,
I'll tell you what's more interesting than listening to me
chatter. You ever heard of the Serrilim?"
"No, afraid I haven't." William shook his head.
"They're quite a remarkable group. A human religious order, as
old as the world, they say. Their doctrine is more intricate and
fascinating than anything I've ever seen. Everything, and I mean
everything, that governs their society has a place in their
Bible, so to speak - the Omannu Sacaan. Heard of that?" Again,
William had to shake his head. "Well, the rules it sets forth are
very strict, but at the same time, very lenient. You should read
it. Fascinating stuff."
"Sounds good." William did his best to sound enthusiastic. He
might've been a little curious some other time, but this creature
was beginning to annoy him, however much he hid it.
"Matter of fact, I happen to have a copy of it - in my desk at
the office. Would you be interested in reading it sometime?" The
Vendorian smiled, in what could almost be described as a
grandfatherly sort of way. William shuddered inwardly at the
thought.
What William said next came in the form of two simple words, but
this harried interjection embodied an important decision, one
which would haunt him for years to come.
"Ok, sure!"
The Vendorian, completely oblivious to his disinterest, smiled
and promised to lend him the book. It then gulped down another
glass of wine, and, seeming to sense that the conversation was
finished, turned in its seat and began to speak with its neighbor
on the other side. William eyed it uncertainly for a moment, then
mentally shrugged and took a bite from the plate in front of him.
| The Word, part one (Atlas) - 15/03/01 |
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