When Priestess came up the stairs, I felt like it was all over. That everything had been for nothing. Because even with Exusiai, Mostima, Arturia, Pozzo, Fiametta, and little old me…I didn’t think we had anywhere near the firepower that would have been required to take out the creator of Originium herself.
Still, I wasn’t going to give up. I gripped my staff and forced myself to my feet. I was going to get James back. One way, or another.
And then, the Doktah showed up. What followed can only be described as a lover’s spat 10000 years in the making. While Doktah and Priestess were, on the surface, arguing about the fate of the world, it seemed to me that Priestess was much more upset that Doktah had abandoned her for Skalter.
That, at least, I could understand. I didn’t quite grasp all the implications of Priestess turning the whole world into originium and ending civilization, or what her plan really was. I understood she thought she was making a ‘model,’ as though this were all some sort of video game or simulation to her, but the whys of it were beyond me. I did understand getting back the man I loved from her and saving my friends from being brainwashed. That I could get my teeth into.
I did see Texas come in and grab Arturia, but at first, I was as clueless as everyone else. The Doktah and Amiya had very wisely not put into wide circulation the vulnerability that Sankta had to Seaborn mental manipulation due to their Empathy. That revelation would be published much later, but what Priestess didn’t know did very much hurt her.
I have a better understanding of things now, but to keep it simple, the same mechanism that allows Sankta to feel the emotions of others means that they can also act as a sort of empathetic arts amplifier when it comes to the Seaborn's hive mind, which means that Sankta are brainwashed almost instantly. I personally saw this when Skalter and Arturia began The Concentus Reminiscentiae Animarum, or in plain Victorian, the Harmony of Souls’ Remembrance.
I was mostly unaffected by it, though I did have a few flashes of…well. It’s hard to explain. Without Empathy, I only got my own memories, so I had flashes of sun on skin from days at the beach, a wetness in my loins from nights of passion with James, and the smell of nonnas cooking food. It lingered as long as the concert continued, but it only made me slightly nostalgic and even more convinced I needed to rescue James.
The effect on everyone else, however, was profound. All heads snapped to where the song was originating from, and the Sankta’s eyes grew cloudy with…well, what looked like the depths of ocean’s waves.
“Uh, what’s happening?” Exusiai asked aloud, looking over at Odda, who had appeared beside her and her sister. “Odda?”
“I…remember,” Odda whispered, a tear trickling down his face. “I remember…hunger. Pain. I remember…what they stole from us. This world…was ours. And they took it! They took it all from the Sarkaz!” His face contorted in rage. “You were right, Exusiai! We were one people! I remember now, when the Sankta were taken by the Stone, the Law, and became the Lost! I remember! Don’t you?”
“Uh, not really?” Exusiai said, looking down at her sister, who had the same tail and cracked halo Exusiai did. “You, sis?”
“I only hear music, but it’s not my taste. Needs a more bass and a faster beat,” Lemuen said with a shrug.
“It was her!” Fiametta said, pointing to where Priestess was fighting Mon3tr and Texas. “She stole it from us! We flew free and proud! They took the skies from the Liberi, and bound us as slaves! I remember now!”
“They turned us, brother against brother,” Pozzo growled, picking up his massive cannon and aiming it at Priestess. “They caused this war, her, and her people!”
As one, the Sankta, both the Haloed and the Born, began to march in step to the song that cried out for their memory. I had to hastily move with them, as while I could hear the music, I certainly couldn’t feel what they were feeling.
“Well sis, feel like killing a god today? You should try it! It’s fun!” Exusiai said as she began to push Lemuen’s wheelchair.
“I’ve always set my sights high,” Lemuen said, raising her rifle and looking into the scope. “Time to put another notch on Tactica’s stock.”
The sankta began to fire, but that was when I remembered I was a Doctor, not a knuckle dragging grunt. “Mostima!”
I scampered back through the ranks of furious Sankta as they all fired on Priestess. My small size and agility allowed me to slip between the much taller Sankta, and I soon found Mostima, who was unconscious and in bad shape. She was in some of the worst arts overdose I’d seen, pale, shallow breaths, and black veins appearing all over her body as her oripathy raged.
I didn’t have everything I needed, but I was experienced at field medicine. First, O2. I took out a canister and hooked it up to a breath mask, placing it over Mostima’s face. This would give me only minutes, but it might be long enough. Next was the AED. She was breathing, but this let me monitor her heart rate easily. She was bradycardic, of course, but she did have a pulse.
Next came the IV, and even before I pushed fluids, I administered our first line field oripathy-surppressent drugs to slow the spread of the lesions I could see forming on her exposed skin. I also gave her a shot of epinephrine, as the oripathy drugs could interfere with her already weak heart. I also wrapped her in a foil blanket and put heating pads under her thighs to keep her body temperature stable.
“There you are. What the fuck are you even doing? Aren’t you here to save your little boyfriend? Who’s this bitch?”
I looked up from my work and found Wiš'adel standing over me, frowning down at Mostima. She looked different, but despite her transformation into a Sankta, the diction and posture screamed Sarkaz Roach, not holy warrior. “I’m trying to save someone’s life! But I need supplies! She needs to be medevac'd immediately! I’ve got Mostima stable, but she’s still in the danger zone!”
“Huh. Guess you can’t turn it off even when we’re saving the world. No wonder you and the idiot martyr fell for one another,” Wiš'adel grumbled. She picked up a radio. “Hey there! We got some moron in arts overdose here. Fallen, blue hair. Get an ambulence or whatever the fuck you people use over her, pronto! Or I go back to Plan A and start blowing shit up until the Holy Bitch crawls out from wherever she’s hiding.”
I was still treating, though I was down to doing some simple sutures on visible wounds. Wiš'adel, however, tried to pull me up. “Come on, Doc wants to powwow before we-”
“I am not leaving until she’s in the hands of a competent care team! This is MY patient!” I snarled, snapping my teeth at her.
Wiš'adel backed off, a grin on her face. “Damn, you are a feisty one! Aren’t you worried about your wonderful Savior? Or was the dick that bad?”
I ignored her and went back to treating. “I will save James, but he would never allow me to rescue him by abandoning a patient. That’s not the kind of man he is, or the kind of doctor I am.”
“Huh. Fine. Not like I have anything better to do,” Wiš'adel said, and took up post, a massive silver cannon in her arms.
I worked silently, tears in my eyes that I had to blink away before I could continue treatment.
“He really would tell you to save her, not him, wouldn’t he?” Wiš'adel asked, her tone somewhat sober for once.
“He would,” I confirmed, and chuckled darkly. “He’d probably tell me to keep myself and…and the baby…safe. Not to worry about him. But the alto idota can complain about rescues he doesn’t like after I save his ass.”
“Bunch of fuckin’ morons,” Wiš'adel sniffed. “Well, the ambulance is here, so hand off your patient so we can go save the world or whatever.”
A team of EMTs did indeed hurry over with a stretcher, and I hastily laid out Mostima’s condition and my treatment. Then I hurried off in the opposite direction from the exit.
“Hey, where the fuck are you going!?” Wiš'adel snarled, hurrying after me.
“I am going to-” I gasped, then gave up and grabbed the nearest statue and emptied the contents of my stomach. I hastily spit, then glared at the shocked Wiš'adel. “It’s NVP. I’m in the first trimester.”
“Uh…” Wiš'adel blinked at me, clearly uncertain.
“Morning sickness. Well, it’s too late now,” I sighed, taking a swig of water and spitting it out, then giving myself an anti-nausea pill. “Come on, I still need to pee.”
After a quick stop where I did not cry on the toilet, and I will kick anyone who says otherwise, we found Doktah and the others in the center of the square, a table laid out with several maps with hastily scrawled plans on them. Amiya was examining the maps, and was floating slightly off the ground with a halo of originium shards about her. All the Sankta save for the Fallen were giving her a wide berth, though they were still working with her it seemed.
In the background, the song continued, Skalter’s voice echoing through the city. I continued to have flashes of memory: the smell of my mother’s perfume, the feel of bedsheets freshly laundered, the taste of James’ pancakes. It all made me want to cry, but I blinked away tears and strode up to the table.
“Ah, Dr. Sussurro. We can begin,” the Doktah said, and pointed to the map. “Fighting through Laterano has ceased, and our units lead by Empress Hildegard and Speaker Victoria are preparing to evacuate the city. That’s good, we’ll need to get as many people away from Laterano as possible before my wife and Arturia are no longer able to continue their song.”
“That’s limited?” Pozzo asked, glancing over at the two performers. “How long?”
“Several hours at least, but not more than 12,” Doktah stated. “The limiting factor is Arturia. She’s being invested with Seaborn cells, but there are limits. She’s channeling a great deal of arts, and she’ll burn out eventually.”
The Sankta all shuddered slightly. Some of them had…growths. Barnacles, scales, and even fins like an aegir. Not many, but I could see a few.
Andoain was wheeled forward in a chair. “This is a perversion of Empathy and the Law, Doktah. We’ll tolerate it, it’s clearly the only thing keeping us from under her thumb, but the Sankta will not trade one enslavement for another.”
“You won’t be expected to, but there was no other way. Not in time,” Doktah said. “Regardless, we still have to address the root of the issue: While we can exploit Empathy for a time, Priestess is still active. Every moment that passes, she’s using the Law to try to push firmware patches that will render the song useless, further narrowing our window.”
“Firmware patch? You mean, alter our biology further?” Andoain demanded, his eyes narrowing.
“Yes, but no.” Doktah pointed to the giant needle piercing the sky. “The Simulated Universe is utterly controlled by her. As long as it remains, she can override reality to suit her needs. We need to draw her attention before she does so.”
“And that will involve going into the heart of the Simulated Universe. Right there,” Doktah said, and pointed to the Basilica. There was a sort of shimmer in the air, exactly like there had been when we stepped into the Simulated Universe.
“Easy. We just blow it up, you can’t tell me the fucking angels don’t have a few tons of party favors lying around,” Wiš'adel said with a malicious grin.
Federico shook his head. “Negative. The Cubicularius Sanctae Legis is over 100 meters underground, through solid stone. The amount of demolition charges required would exceed current stocks, as well as require multiple months of dedicated mining.”
“We are also not destroying the most sacred site in Laterano!” Andoain spluttered. “That is where the Law is located!”
“Gee, why do you think we’re going in there?” Exusiai said, rolling her eyes. “Or at least, why I am going in there. To teach that stupid computer a lesson! Mostly by blowing it up.”
“That is a potential solution,” Doktah said, even as the Sankta reacted with cries of horror. “It is, however, not the optimal one.”
“Optimal!? You’re talking about destroying the foundation of Sankta culture and religion! Our creator deity! The giver of Life and Order who has safeguarded us and we in turn have watched over for thousands of years!” Andoain snapped.
Lemuen raised her hand to stop further bickering. “If I may, it may be necessary, but Doktah stated it was not the optimal solution. I would like to hear what the optimal solution is, before we descend into needless argument.”
“As Exusiai said, the Law began as the Personality and Cognitive Synchronization System,” Doktah agreed, which made several of the Sankta look furious. “However, much like my daughter, Kal’tsit, it is no longer what it was originally designed as. It has become the Law. And it does love the Sankta. Currently, it is being forcibly controlled by Priestess, just as much as all of you were mere minutes ago. The best solution isn’t just to destroy your enemies assets. It’s to liberate them.”
“Setting aside the obvious theological problems with that statement for now,” Andoain said, leaning forward. “How do we free the Law from the grip of this madwoman who styles herself the Holy Mother?”
“That is for the Sankta. And the Sarkaz,” Doktah said, and nodded to Amiya.
The Sankta uncomfortably turned to Amiya, who looked like the most stereotypical depiction of the Lord of Fiends from religious art: She had two large devil’s horns, cloven feet, and a spiked tail.
“And we are to let this…this blasphemy into the Holy of Holies?” Andoain asked, pain in his voice.
“CEO Amiya is capable of reprogramming originium. We must take her to the Law,” Federico stated. “Only with her aid will we be able to correct the current lockout imposed by the Law.”
“I will need assistance,” Amiya says with a nod. “While I can manipulate originium using the Black Crown, I am not capable of linking directly with Sankta Empathy. I will need Exusiai and her sister to assist me, as well as unfallen Sankta capable of then implementing it.”
“I will go,” Andoain said instantly, sitting up as straight as he could.
“No, you won’t. You’re got a spinal injury and should be in a trauma ward,” I told him. “Not reprogramming God.”
“That is irrelevant in the face of the current crisis. If my life is required, then so be it!” Andoain growled.
“You will be needed to coordinate and evacuate civilians as the highest ranking Cardinal,” Doktah says, shaking their head. “Operators Fiametta, Wiš'adel, Executor, Exusiai, and Lemuen will be entering the Simulated Universe with Amiya as a part of Strike Package Alpha. I will be personally leading Strike Package Beta, which will consist of myself, my granddaughter, Operator Texas, and Operator Sussurro.”
“Hey, what about me?” Gavial demanded, frowning at Doktah. “I didn’t get dragged all the way here to just sit back and relax!”
“Me neither,” Odda agreed.
“Unfortunately, this is an operation where numbers will not matter. Each Operator has been chosen for specific purposes,” Doktah states. “I’ll individually brief you and give you your orders. The rest of you, assist with the evacuation, and prepare for Contingency Zero.”
“What’s Contingency Zero?” Odda demands.
Doktah folds their hands behind their back and looks up at the Space Elevator that pierces the sky. “The Simulated Universe cannot be allowed to spread. Sufficient trauma to the broadcast antenna should collapse a part of the starpod, and drop it directly on Laterano in what is known as a ‘colony drop’ situation, and result in complete destruction of the Law. This would have…side effects. Ones I would seek to avoid.”
Everyone grows quiet at that, looking up at the giant obelisk, and the false sky above it. It’s impossibly tall, and I haven’t a clue how you’d even begin to destroy it. That said…if anyone could, it would be the Sankta.
“Rocks fall, everyone dies, huh? I like it!” Wiš'adel says gleefully, causing most of those present to glare at her.
“Rocks would not be of sufficient tensile strength to form the Starpod. Instead, highly advanced exotic materials, such as those recovered in Columbia would fall. This would actually cause more damage than simple silica,” Executor deadpans.
“They’re fucking rocks, Fred. Just fancy ones. So, I guess I got voluntold for the suicide mission?” Wiš'adel asks. She grins. “Just my style! Now, what’s my personal mission?”
“Some objective data cannot be shared amongst Operators due to the nature of the simulated universe and Priestess’ proven ability in mind control. As such, I will be personally giving each operators a set of strategic objectives for them to fulfill,” Doktah said. He looked around at the Sankta. “There is only one other question: Do you trust Rhodes Island and myself with this operation?”
“We do,” Lemuen said, rolling herself up to Doktah. She looked up at him and smiled. “You are the Ghost of Babel, but you are also the Lover Spurned. If anyone can understand and stop the Simulated Universe, it is you.”
“You think to speak for us, Fallen?!” one of the Sankta dressed in the robes of a Bishop demanded.
“She is still Cardinal Lemuen,” Andoain snapped, turning to glare at the other official. “The only one who is of equal rank with her here is myself, and I agree. The Rhodes Islanders and the Ghost of Babel’s plan was what freed us from the False Mother’s control. And it is our only hope of keeping our people alive and saving the Law, and perhaps even our Holy City. Does anyone disagree?”
Patia, recovered and still in the armor of a gun knight, raised her hand. “What about the Liberi? Are we…are we stuck like this?”
“My current theory is that this change is permanent, as when we stepped out of the Simulated Universe at the edge, our Operators did not revert. However, if the Law can be liberated, it does have the power to revert you. If not…well, the Seaborn have experience with altering physical forms. We’ll see what we can do,” Doktah assured Patia.
“Well, you’d better fucking think of SOMETHING, because I am not dying as a Sankta!” Wiš'adel spat.
“All the more reason to succeed. Now, I’ll need everyone to give me some space, so I can give Strike Teams Alpha and Beta their private objectives,” Doktah said.
I nervously waited as Doktah spoke to each individual Operator in strike team Alpha. The longest conversation by a wide margin was Amiya’s. She looked sober for most of it, but ended with her laughing and hugging the Doktah, who she referred to as “grandpa,” before floating back over to the group.
Federico simply listened quietly, nodded, and then returned, no expression on his face whatsoever. Wiš'adel glared at Doktah at first, then suddenly went pale, all the color draining from her. She forced out a belly laugh and shrugged, but when she came back, she was far more subdued than I was used to seeing her, and Amiya gave her a hug. Instead of snapping her head off, Wiš'adel closed her eyes and squeezed Amiya tightly. “You watch yourself, Ears. Be a real fucking mess if the Sarkaz lost their King only a few days after finding her.”
Exusiai listened closely to the Doktah, then blinked a few times and gasped in shock before grinning and throwing her arms about them as she let a few tears slide down her face. Then she skipped back over, a wide grin on her lips. She kissed Odda, hugged him tightly, and then went to stand over with the rest of the team.
Lemuen skidded up to the Doktah, a knowing smile on her lips. She listened, laughed, and patted Tactica before nodding and rolling back over to her sister, who she hi-fived. Both sisters looked rather excited, though they didn’t say anything, I think they probably had figured out the orders Doktah had given both of them, or at least, they thought they had.
Fiametta looked serious as she listened to Doktah, listening and nodding a few times. She rolled her eyes, glanced over at Lemuen, who winked at her, then shrugged and seemed to agree with whatever Doktah was saying. Instead of going back to her team first, she went to her grandfather and hugged him. “You just get some rest, alright you old geezer? Time for me to be the heroic knight and you to rest on your laurels.”
“Rest on my laurels? Why, I’m not 100 yet! Swore I wouldn’t hang up my guns until then,” Pozzo chuckled, but then flipped up his helmet to gently kiss Fiametta on her forehead. “Future is in your hands now, Fia.”
Then, the old man slowly removed his armor, passing each piece to Fiametta. She took them reverently, and when Pozzo was dressed only in a sweat stained tunic, he began to dress his granddaughter in one of the most sacred relics of the Sankta. He was taller than her, but with a few adjustments, the armor seemed to fit well enough.
“Go, with my blessing…Sir Holy Debt Collector,” Pozzo said, saluting Fiametta.
She rolled her eyes, but saluted him back, then slammed her visor shut and tromped over to the rest of the part. “Right. I’m ready.”
“A moment. There is one final task for me,” Amiya said, and went over to Texas. “Dr. Gavial, if you will assist me…”
“Uh, sure,” Gavial agreed, going over and frowning. “You need me to do what, exactly?”
“Heal the exit wounds,” Amiya stated. “I am going to draw out the originium.”
Texas stiffened and looked to Doktah, but they only nodded. She turned back to Amiya. “Should I remove my shirt?”
“No need. I have quite adequate control,” Amiya told her with a mischievous wink, and took Texas’ hands.
It didn’t take very long, but all the originium in Texas’ system was purged, drawn into Amiya, with Gavial quickly healing her with the new arts. The Sankta were all shocked to witness it, and when Amiya turned to them, she held up a few nodules of originium. “For now, this is denied you. Only the Fallen may use the new arts, and only those of the Sarkaz. For you are born of Terra, but changed by the Law. At this time, you can be granted neither branch as you are.”
“We wouldn’t want your filthy arts,” the same idiot bishop from before snarled, but Andoain silenced them with another glare before turning to Amiya, a look of curiosity on his face. “I have heard that Ancient races can use such arts, while you Sarkaz can cure or infect with oripathy. So you are saying that Sankta are neither Ancient, nor Sarkaz? Not even Elder?”
“You are unique. What you are…that was dictated by the Law. What you will become…that will be for the Sankta to determine.”
With that, Amiya turned, and followed by the others, began to ascend the stairs to the basilica. They had not gone more than six steps before they shimmered, and vanished, as if lost in a heat mirage.
I swallowed, then went over to Doktah, not waiting to be called. “If my objective isn't to save James, you’re asking the wrong woman.”
“That is your only objective,” Doktah said, hands still in the pockets of their jacket. “You are to retrieve Operator Bones and remove him before his administrative privileges can be passed to Priestess. Due to your lack of oripathy, or indeed any originium in you, it is likely that you will respond very differently to the Simulated Universe. As such…you may sneak by without Priestess noticing. Get to Bones. Get both of you out. Nothing else eclipses that objective.”
I nodded, feeling relieved, and also slightly disappointed. I’d expected some new wisdom, but that was all I was given. Well, fine. I’d planned on doing that anyway.
Texas’ conversation seemed to consist of barely a handful of words. She listened, then nodded, accepting a wrapped bundle from Doktah. She was still in the form of a Sankta, her body hadn’t changed again, but I still saw the eyes of a predator and the heart of a lupo. I had a fair guess of what her objective would be, and it made my heart sick.
If I were to fail…if I couldn’t get James out…
Then Texas was to kill him. Better he die than fall into Priestess’ hands.
I could not let that happen.
I did not look at Texas as she walked over to stand beside me while Doktah and Mon3tr had a short conversation. She listened, then started crying and hugged Doktah. She seemed to beg them for something, but Doktah didn’t answer, only hugged her back. After her sobs subsided, she sniffed, took a handkerchief from Doktah and dried her eyes, then nodded and came to stand beside us, eyes red.
“We haven’t much time,” Doktah said, and pointed. “Texas, take point. Sussurro, Mon3tr, stick close to me.”
I nodded, and followed after Texas as she cautiously made her way up the stairs, guns out. My ears were still filled with the sound of Skalter’s song, and I felt one last memory: the warmth of someone’s arms about me as I fell asleep, a feeling of safety deep in my bones.
And then, the world rippled, and I found myself falling into an endless sea under a black sun as Skalter’s song vanished.