CHAPTER 8
As it turned out, Aries already knew of the media’s declaration that Jesus had returned.
“Surely there’s a way we can expose the fucker?” Aquarius exclaimed, pacing his boss’ office.
“Expose how? Gullible people will believe its parlor tricks.”
“We could assassinate it.”
“We could, but it would simply flit to a new body and use that to strengthen its mystique by claiming ‘Look, I am the son of God, and I can be reborn in anyone.’” Aries grunted. “I have to say, it’s a brilliant maneuver. Using people’s faith to get them to serve.”
“Are you saying we should do nothing?”
“I’m working on a solution, but honestly, I think, at this point, you’re the only one who can make a difference.”
“Because of the prophecy.” Aquarius’ lips turned down. “Ishtar thinks it’s bullshit.”
“I got the impression that she’s more worried of repeating what happened to her planet.”
“She is, and I get it, but she won’t even let us try to study how they got rid of the Kukakk so we can try and fix the aftereffects.”
“You’ll have to keep trying. The prophecy said something about giving her what she desires. Any idea what that would be?”
“No clue, but if I could guess, I think she wishes she could fix Mars.”
“Is that possible? Can a planet regain its magnetic shield?” Aries mused aloud.
“I don’t know, but if the Martians with their supposed advanced technology couldn’t, then I’m not sure what you think we can do.”
“Sometimes when you’re too close to a problem you can’t see a solution.”
“I guess.” Aquarius rubbed his face. “I did find out she can get travel Mars. She’s got a spaceship up in orbit.”
“That’s good news.”
“Assuming I can convince her to go.”
“Turn on the charm.”
A suggestion that had him gaping at Aries. “Me?”
“It can’t hurt.”
“Ishtar is a queen, and I’m just a tech.”
“And a warrior. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“You know flirting isn’t my strength, and Ishtar doesn’t seem like the type to succumb to flattery.”
“You’ll have to figure it out because the prediction specifically mentions you.”
The prophecy also seemed pretty clear he’d die in the process. Why else would the stars weep if he succeeded?
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Now get some sleep. You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” A dry reply, although Aries had a point. Fatigue tugged at him, a reminder of his eventful day. As Aquarius dragged his ass to his apartment, he couldn’t help but glance up the stairs and wonder how Ishtar fared. If he weren’t so tired, he might have gone and checked.
Instead, he slept. Slept and dreamed.
Dreamed he stood on Mars.
A glance at his feet showed hard-packed dirt with thin cracks running through it. Ahead of him stood a mountain that could only be Olympus Mons. Scientists believed it was the largest volcano in the solar system, but conspiracy buffs had another theory, claiming it was a Martian citadel.
Without moving his feet, he suddenly found himself standing in its shadow, noting the pitted stone, whipped by sand over millennia. He placed his hand on it, noting the rough texture, and jolting as a grinding noise led to a door opening in the mountain.
An ominous dark maw and, of course, his dumb ass stepped inside.
He couldn’t see much, the light from outside barely penetrating and then disappearing as the portal abruptly shut.
For a few seconds, he stood in the pitch-black, reminded of when he beamed and entered the void, the space through which the Zodiacs travelled when their entire atomic structure disassembled and flitted in seconds from point A to point B.
Only this place didn’t have the lung-sucking cold or the ominous pressure of nothingness.
Blink.
The sudden illumination startled. A glance left to right showed dust-covered glowing sconces inset within the walls.
He found himself in what he would have described as an antechamber.
Benches lined the walls with niches above, empty but for dust. It reminded him of a mudroom.
A door beckoned, and as he approached, it slid open.
A part of him wondered if he truly visited Mars in his dream, or had his subconscious created what it thought he wanted to see?
No way of knowing, although, when he saw Ishtar in the morning, he might ask.
It wasn’t unheard of for warriors to experience astral projections. It just had never happened to him.
Past the dusty antechamber, a wide hallway stretched with more recessed sconces, although a few of them appeared to no longer be functioning. It was astonishing any of them worked at all, given how long this place had remained dormant.
His boots kicked up puffs of dust as he strode aimlessly, because he had no clue where he went.
From the outside, the citadel didn’t just appear huge; it was massive.
He could wander forever and never find his way out.
The fear of being trapped here didn’t stop him from exploring.
He strode along the empty halls and peeked in and out of barren rooms. It would appear everything that could be carried off had been removed, leaving behind only hints of past grandeur.
At one time, the citadel had windows, he came across them in some rooms, their presence indicated by square and rectangular cuts in the seamless stone, filled in likely to protect the inhabitants.
Aquarius wandered for an eternity, or so it seemed. His footsteps the only sound in this dead place. While he glanced into every room he passed, he found nothing of interest, so when he did finally encounter something, it jolted.
The area around the door didn’t have the layer of dust he’d encountered elsewhere, and unlike the others, simply stepping close didn’t open it. A square of green, cleaner than anything else thus far, had him placing his palm against it. Possibly dumb, for all he knew it might electrocute or—
The door slid open, and he gaped, split between horror and astonishment. The hum of active machinery filled the chamber. A tall dark tower of metal with flashing lights from which extended wiring and tubing that led to a glass cylinder that went floor to ceiling, filled with liquid, holding a body.
Not just any body. A full-grown version of Ishtar.
“I see even my dreams aren’t safe anymore,” grumbled Ishtar from behind him.
He whirled. “Your dream? I thought this was my imagination.”
“Could you truly have imagined this?” she stated, waving her hand at the tank.
“You did mention you were born in a test tube, but you forget the part about growing it on Mars.”
“Where else would it be possible? Earth still hasn’t reached this level of technology. Besides, what safer spot to keep my next body than a place no one ever visits?”
“Except for you.”
“Except for me,” Ishtar agreed softly. She placed her hand on the tank. “Although, since my last transfer, I’ve been coming less and less. Skipping visits for years on end.”
“Why visit at all? Is it to keep the clone up to date with your memories?”
She shook her head. “No. I have ways of uploading my current consciousness, something I try to do daily, so that if something should happen to me, the next version is ready to go.”
“If you can do that, why come at all? It must be freaky to see this dormant version of yourself. To know it will awake when you die.”
“I don’t enjoy it, but it’s up to me to ensure nothing happens to her. Me.” Ishtar’s lips twisted. “Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to smash the tank and let the memories of what we once used to be die.”
“Has it never occurred to you that instead of constantly cloning yourself and passing on memories that maybe you could just write the important stuff down and have the next queen or king emerge more naturally?”
She stared at him as if he’d uttered the most blasphemous thing. “Are you implying I should have a child?”
“It’s not that shocking. Don’t tell me, in all your lifetimes, you’ve never met a guy and wanted to have a family.”
She shook her head. “I have a duty.”
“To who?” A harsh rebuke but he’d heard enough of her history to realize she protected nothing. “Everything you know, remember, is in the past. Mars is dead. What are you holding on to? Maybe, it’s time to forget what’s been lost and for you to live.”
“Ironic you should say that when you’ve been cajoling me about my history.”
“Which has been an exercise in futility. You won’t tell me anything about the weapon you used and don’t give me that bullshit about it destroying your world. I get it, I do. But here’s the thing, what you did allowed you to survive. Your people escaped.”
“Only because Earth was available. Where will humanity go if you destroy the Kukakk in the same manner and your planet loses its ability to foster life?”
“If I could study what you did, perhaps I could—”
“No.” A flat and uncompromising refusal.
“So you’re willing to see Earth taken over by the Kukakk.”
“I…” She rubbed a hand across her face. “Maybe humanity will find a better way.”
“That a lot of faith in people ready to worship an alien just because he calls himself Jesus?”
“Not all will be seduced by the lies. Humans are resilient.”
“Great. The tough will survive, but what of the rest? The billions who will suffer?”
Her head dipped. “Better to suffer than go extinct.”
“What will it take for you to help?”
Her head snapped up, and her eyes, full of sorrow and anger, fixed him. “How about the impossible? I want Mars to thrive again.”
“Okay.”
She blinked. “Er, what?”
“If that’s what you want, then I’ll find a way.”
“It can’t be done. Without a magnetic field, there is no atmosphere. With no atmosphere, nothing can survive.”
“You have.”
She snorted. “When I’m not dream-walking, my visits here involve me wearing a space suit until I can enter the citadel. Once inside, there is air to breathe and the temperature, while chilly, won’t turn me into a block of ice. The citadel also protects from the solar radiation.”
“Meaning it’s possible to live here?”