Great White Throne Read online

  “We should pray, but it’s not that simple. We’re not supposed to fling ourselves into temptation, and Don could make this irresistible. We may not know what he’s up to, but we know he’s full of lies. I don’t like the idea of you rebooting your precept, much less syncing with one of his drones. You can’t leave me alone here. You can’t go into this war, even if your intentions are to help the order. Don won’t let that happen anyway.”

  “It’s just my mind. My body will stay here.”

  A slight smile touched her lips, but not her eyes. “You think I want your body without your mind? Besides, Don’s drones will be more complex than what we used in ISA-7. You know the risks if your drone is taken out.”

  I thought of the Captain losing his mind and diving out of a skyscraper. The deeper we went in, the worse the shock if we got ejected. “I know the risks,” I said. “I’ll avoid a complete sync.”

  “Better to avoid syncing all together.”

  “Let’s at least see what information Don provided. We may have a chance to use it, even if I don’t sync.” I put on my most convincing smile. “I promise I won’t go unless it’s necessary.”

  “Nice try, pretty boy. What would make it necessary for you to go?”

  “If God tells me to do it.”

  “You’ll limit it to that?”

  Trust. Wait. “I promise.”

  We turned to lay on our backs, our sides pressed together, as I held up the glass tablet over us. It was as thin as paper, and not much heavier.

  “You ready?” I asked.

  “Almost,” she said, closing her eyes. “God, give us vision now. Protect us from evil, help us resist temptation, show us Your will. Amen.” Her eyes opened. “Go ahead.”

  I activated the tablet. The screen expanded into a holographic ocean before us. It felt like we were soaring backwards, just above clear blue water. Waves lapped gently over a wide stretch of whitish-yellow sand. Palm trees dotted the crescent coast, and an immense city loomed in the distance.

  The view froze. The focus sharpened on still figures between the ocean and the palms. Thousands of soldiers wore armored suits in the dull color of desert camouflage. They formed a line three men deep, stretching the entire screen along the beach. I hardly would have seen them except for their guns. Lasers, missiles, and artillery. They had enough firepower to seize a nation, and all of it was aimed toward the water.

  As the soldiers held their positions and the gentle waves rolled in, an overlay of text appeared: November 23, 2066, 9:34 am. Outside Dubai. That was about two weeks ago, not long after Don had told me war would begin.

  The text faded. The waves lapped. The palm trees blew gently in the wind.

  The view spun out over the water again. Something lit up a hundred feet out, like a mirror catching the sun. Then dozens of mirrors. Each one rising higher and stirring the calm ocean around it. Giant metallic bodies emerged from the depths, marching toward the coast.

  For a moment, no soldiers fired. The line of machines advanced on the line of men, the distance closing. Then, in unison, a line of missiles flew from the advancing creatures. The streams of white clouds, perfectly parallel, could have been beautiful.

  The missiles hit—not the men, but a shield. They exploded against an invisible bubble just above the men. It must have been a thermal shield like the one over Washington, DC. As the burning missiles fell into the water, the shield blinked away, just for an instant. The men on the shore unleashed a flurry of shots at the machines. Then the shield was back.

  The soldiers’ salvo hit the metal beasts like a wave. Several of the giant creatures stumbled. A few fell, crashing into the water, but most still advanced, steady and unflinching. They reached the crashing waves, closing in on the men, before they bumped against the invisible wall. The men stood their ground as the machines each reached out with artificial hands. Spindly, metallic digits prodded at the shield, as if searching for a weakness.

  The unseen wall held. The men had to be frantic inside, but they looked as calm as statues while the drones continued their work—their masterminds probably trying to hack whatever code was controlling the shield. In the moment of equipoise, the screen’s view zoomed away, lifting like a bird on the sea breeze.

  The water stirred again, farther out this time. Another metal beast began to rise and advance. This one dwarfed the others. It was maybe twice their size, with four legs instead of two. Seven heads grew from its hulking frame, looking every direction at once. The machine moved faster and faster, surging out of the water and charging at the line of men. It slammed against the shield, cracking it from top to bottom. It reared back and slammed forward again. This time the shield shattered.

  The men opened fire.

  The machines returned it.

  Within chaotic minutes of explosions and screams, the beach was covered in blood. No man remained standing, and interspersed among their bodies were heaps of fallen metal. The view zoomed onto the face of the largest machine. It roared out a victory cry like a lion.

  The video faded out and text appeared: Persian casualties: 166,449. UN casualties: 7. Press to continue.

  I didn’t press the button.

  Naomi breathed heavily beside me. “That was enough,” she whispered. “If Don can do this without you, why would he ask you to join him? How could this be anything other than a trap?”

  “The Mahdi’s men won’t continue like this. I bet they’re changing strategies. Maybe going into hiding. Think about an army of Aishas. Guerrilla warfare. Terrorist attacks. Not every battle will go so easily for Don.”

  “Maybe,” Naomi said, “but still, why would Don need you?”

  “He knows our capacities for syncing with drones. He knows I’m one of the best.” It wasn’t bragging. Those were facts.

  “And he knows you’re aligned with the order now. He knows God is with you.” Naomi took my hand in hers. “Look, we both know you can sync with a drone, but so can I. Don wants me around to take care of his son, to be a mother he can parade around. But he doesn’t need you. You’re a threat, so why wouldn’t he try to dispose of you?”

  “If that’s all he wanted, he would have killed me already.”

  “Okay, so what’s he really after?”

  I thought for a moment. I remembered what Ronaldo had said about Satan wanting to twist all that is good into evil. I remembered what the order had been saying all along about my role in this. If—for whatever reason—I was chosen by God to be His seer, did that mean His enemy would necessarily choose me, too, for whatever his purposes?

  “What are you thinking?” Naomi pressed.

  “Don’s trying to twist God’s plan.”

  “How? Which plan?”

  “I’m not sure … it’s God’s plan, not mine. But it’s probably whatever plan involves me seeing things no one else can see. It’s whatever plan leads you to be the mother of Don’s child, and for us to be here right now, together in the devil’s palace. It’s whatever plan makes me fall in love with you, and you with me.” I squeezed her hands and stared into her eyes. “I think I’m supposed to trust that God will protect me in this, and then wait for him to show me what’s next.”

  She went quiet, then pressed her eyes shut, as if praying. When they opened, she looked resolved. “I’ll let you do this on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You tell me every detail of your training, of the drones, and of Don’s mission. I want to know all of it.”

  I smiled. “The warrior mother. It’s a deal.”

  She didn’t smile back. “This isn’t about us fighting. We have no strength on our own. We must pray constantly. But God must have put us here for a reason. The more we know, the better we can pray.” She turned to the screen. “Let’s see what’s next.”

  I PRESSED THE glass tablet to continue the video. The battle scene was gone in the next frame, replaced by Beatriz’s face. I hadn’t seen the woman since Geneva. I hadn’t missed her.

  “Wel
come, Elijah!” She spoke fast, full of excitement. “You have already seen the glory of our machines in battle, but they are so much more. They are masterpieces. They combine the best of mankind’s creations. Powerful engines, impenetrable frames, and growing intelligence. They could operate independently, but it remains advisable to control them. Our futures are tied together. An advanced human mind can sync with dozens at a time. Don instructed me to give you a glimpse of my current harvest. Watch and learn.”

  The screen shifted to a city—my city, New York—but it spliced into a dozen different views. Each one was a thin sliver on the screen, and they sprang into motion at once. It was dizzying trying to follow them all. One sliver showed black metallic arms approaching a woman’s body, apparently asleep on the bed of a tiny apartment. The arms stripped her clothes off and sheared her head bare. Then it gathered her body up like a bundle of wheat.

  My eyes moved to another sliver. They showed another set of robotic arms lowering a man’s body into a clear, egg-shaped chamber, like the one from Alexi’s mansion. The next sliver showed the side of a building. It was familiar—an art deco tower from the block where I grew up. But it was not the same. The outside of the building had as many egg-shaped chambers as windows. Most of them were empty, but as I looked closer, I could see spider-like robots hauling bodies and laying them in the capsules.

  Beatriz’s word hit me with force: a harvest.

  I scanned the other slivers of the screen. They all showed flurries of the same mechanical activity. Bodies being stripped clean, gathered up, hauled, and deposited in chambers. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. Was this the fate of those in Babylon?

  Beatriz’s face appeared again, filling the entire screen. “You see, these people have put their trust in Don, and they enjoy paradise without lifting a finger. With these beautiful creations, Don has eliminated work and replaced it with pleasure.”

  “Stop the video,” Naomi said. “I can’t watch this.”

  “Okay—” I reached for the screen.

  “Hello, Naomi,” Beatriz interrupted. “I did not see you there.”

  This was live! I spun the screen away.

  I resisted the temptation to hurl the glass tablet against the wall, as awesome as it would have been to see this crazy woman shatter into a thousand pieces.

  “What did you expect?” Beatriz asked. “Don has offered you a place of great privilege. He gives you an opportunity to ask me whatever you wish.” She paused. “You might as well turn the screen back. I’ve already seen that Naomi is with you.”

  I glanced to Naomi at my side. She nodded and mouthed, learn what you can. I’ll pray.

  I slowly spun the screen around and met Beatriz’s fanatic gaze.

  “Go ahead,” the woman said. “You have questions?”

  “These people, are their minds in Babylon?”

  She nodded. “We monitor their vitals to make sure they are healthy and happy. No one enters Babylon without choosing it. You should know by now, Don is a lover of freedom.”

  “Freedom? You are putting people in test tubes.”

  “You’ve been there, Elijah.” Beatriz’s eyes took on a devious smile as they turned to Naomi. “Was there anything unpleasant about the experience? Why don’t you tell me what you saw?”

  “Isn’t it recorded somewhere? You probably know what I saw.”

  She shook her head. “I have my suspicions, but only Don has access to that data. We respect people’s privacy. If the dwellers of Babylon feared their deepest desires could be known, they would hold back their desires. Don wants every person to have his or her deepest cravings satisfied. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tell us. Was Babylon unpleasant for you?”

  The images from my brief time there were seared into my memory. I thought of Naomi on the bed, beckoning me to her tropical paradise. I thought of Jezebel. Unpleasant was the wrong word. It was flat-out wrong.

  “Babylon is not reality,” I said. “As powerful as our minds are, we cannot live without our bodies.”

  “That was the past,” Beatriz replied. “Under Don’s oversight, the machines can provide for our bodies. The flesh has always been a nuisance, holding humans back from their highest destinies.”

  “If that were true, why would you and Don choose to stay in the real world, in your bodies?”

  “Good question.” Her lips curled up, crinkling the lines of wrinkles around her eyes. “It is our sacrifice, on behalf of others, to remain here and ensure the world remains safe so that people may enjoy Babylon.”

  “So generous of you. Is that why you’re killing anyone who refuses to enter Babylon?”

  “Don is only defending what the people have chosen,” she said. “We cannot allow a few fundamentalists to ruin what nearly everyone else in the world wants. But we force no one to enter Babylon. Each person chooses it for themselves. They may stay outside, as long as they acknowledge Don’s authority.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I thought of the order—Chris, Ronaldo, and the others—hiding somewhere, probably in another cave. “How can they acknowledge his authority without entering Babylon?”

  “You’re a New Yorker, so consider a group in your state, the Amish. You know how they live in the United States, but remain separate from it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don tolerates that. This very second, many of the Amish are still on their lands, riding their carriages, growing their vegetables.” Her voice held contempt. “They never accepted precepts in the first place, so they didn’t even get a taste of Babylon. Of course, we would welcome them to join us, but as long as they stay within their territory and recognize that Don is their ultimate sovereign, they can carry on like farm animals.”

  “But the Muslims fight back,” I said. “That’s the difference?”

  “It’s far more than that. Anyone with a will to power is a threat to the peaceful world Don is creating.”

  Peaceful. Some word for war machines slaughtering thousands. I kept my calm. “What do you mean by will to power?”

  “Anything that tries to set itself above Don and the greater good. The responsibility to maintain world order can be shouldered only by the greatest men and women. Don sees immense potential in you, Elijah Goldsmith. He told me that you’ve seen the dragon.” She sounded genuinely impressed. “He said you saw Jezebel. He said you harnessed the Omega Project on the first try. Only a handful have had that opportunity, and fewer still have succeeded.”

  Was that jealousy in her voice? “So what’s next?”

  “Even you must train,” Beatriz said. “Reconnect your precept, and the next training will be there for you.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Beatriz paused as if taken aback. “Then I suppose you’ll be left behind. You’ll lose Don’s favor. You’ll probably die. But I don’t think it will happen that way. My agents have had their eyes on you from the beginning. You’re smart, Eli. Don’s war machines have more power than anything you’ve experienced. If you prove yourself capable and loyal, then Don will honor you.”

  Her agents? It suddenly clicked that she ran ISA under Don. “I understand. How has Don honored you?”

  Her face tightened. “Don gives to all as they deserve. He will wait for you, but not forever. The battle is underway.”

  “What about Naomi?”

  “What about her?” Beatriz glanced at Naomi with disdain. “She’s alive now, while she nurses the child. I suggest she enjoy the honor while it lasts. Not everyone can be our Lord’s genetic match, but even that affords no permanent place at his side.”

  I turned to Naomi. She was biting her lip. She shook her head at me, as if telling me not to take the bait. I looked at Beatriz again.

  “Reboot your precept,” she said. “Instructions await there.”

  The screen’s image went blank.

  “SO WHAT NOW?”

  Naomi rose up with her palms flat on the red sheets and her slender arms as support. Her beautiful face was like
a gulp of fresh air after staring at Beatriz on the screen.

  “He should be asleep for another hour,” Naomi said softly, glancing to the cradle. “We’ll be monitored, but I need a stretch—maybe somewhere outside, in the sun?”

  “There’s a courtyard nearby. Can you take stairs? Just two stories.” She’d been walking within the first few days of the birth, but she hadn’t ventured far from her room. No one had said she couldn’t, but the androids’ instructions were to rest as much as possible.

  “I think so,” she said, sliding out of bed and stretching her arms. “My body is feeling much better. Stronger.”

  “Great, let’s go.” We slipped out of the room. The baby didn’t stir, but Naomi paused in the door between the two androids on guard.

  She whispered to one of them. “Get me immediately if he wakes.”

  “Yes, Naomi,” it replied.

  She nodded. “Monitor?”

  The robot’s stomach slid open, producing a small flat screen from inside. Naomi took it. “This has worked when I shower,” she said. “No reason it won’t work now.” She pressed the monitor’s screen. It showed the baby. A glance back into the room confirmed it was the view from the eyes of the nearest android. Naomi took my arm and smiled faintly.

  The androids didn’t follow as we left. We made our way down a broad marble staircase, with Naomi seeming to gain confidence with each step. After passing through a long hall, I led us through the open door to an enclosed courtyard. It was immense, half the size of a soccer pitch, and magnificent in the mid-morning light. Paths crisscrossed in perfect geometry through the lush fruit trees and flowers. Small machines scurried around like dogs, watering and pruning the plants. It was hard to believe we were in the middle of a desert.

  “Let’s sit here.” Naomi pointed to a bench under a tree with round, red apples begging to be picked.

  “Remember the first time we sat on a bench together?”

  She lowered to the bench gently. “I’ll never forget it. You were the arrogant Jewish boy with the dark curls and the darker dreams.”

  “And you were the girl clothed with the sun—all beautiful and innocent and ready to make me spill my secrets. How’d you do that, by the way? I’ve never understood how you dragged my dream out of me.”