Heretic by James R. Stratton

Michael · Posted: Fri May 15, 2009 9:10 pm Post subject: Heretic by James R. Stratton

Heretic
by James R. Stratton

Dr. Richardson ignored the argument raging at the Captain's station. The steward who had brought Jem to the bridge was catching hell from Captain Little Owl, who wore an aura of brooding anger like a cloak. He looked away when the Captain surged up from his seat.

"Idiot! You brought this man on my bridge without clearance. Especially now! Intra system control just cleared us for departure. I don't have time for this crap!"

Jem felt the Captain’s glare and resigned himself to being sent away. Perhaps if I explained why I’m here? Jem froze when he heard the slab-like security officer step closer. This huge man’s name was Samuel Small Bear and he'd been extremely polite when Jem met him. Jem had no doubt Officer Small Bear would be equally polite after he’d bounced Jem off the deck. Jem waited.

Halfway around the circle of consoles a crewman announced, "Sir! The navigator’s on deck!"

Jem heard the grav-chute buzz as the entrance strobed. Captain Little Owl hissed and muscled Jem into a seat at an inactive console.

"Dr. Richardson, I didn't invite you on my ship. And I’d frog march you off if there were time. You don’t know squat about my ship, so you be quiet or I'll have you in the brig." He glared until Jem nodded, then turned away.

Across the bridge, Joseph Greystoke O'Reilly stood, blinking in the dim lights. He wore a headband festooned with feathers and polished pebbles, white face paint and a cape of animal skins and feathers. His loincloth was an afterthought, revealing his sex whenever he turned sideways. Even across the bridge, Jem could smell the acrid-sweet reek of herb-smoke. Mr. O'Reilly was an adherent of the South American sect of the snake goddess and Priests of Pita smoked heroic quantities of Vlat to attain communion with Her.

The vessel Grey Wolf Who Hunts At Dawn had been guided through the void until recently by Gentry Standing Horse, a Navajo Shaman. But Standing Horse had suffered a myocardial infarction just before the Grey Wolf arrived at the planet Little Bit of Heaven. His replacement, Mr. O'Reilly, was the reason Jem had boarded. Mr. O'Reilly was unique even among the wildly varied professional navigators Jem studied.

The little shaman’s gaze wandered until settling on Captain Little Owl. He giggled and waved.

"Mr. O'Reilly, please lay in our course to the Way Far system."

Mr. O'Reilly belched. "Sure thing, chief," he slurred. "Let's get this fucking show on the road!"

Captain Little Owl's jaw muscles bunched and jumped, but his smile never wavered. Stumbling to the navigation station, Mr. O'Reilly thumped two black candles onto the console and lit them. He began to chant in an odd language full of lip-pops and tongue-clicks as he gestured over the console. Three times he shrieked so that Jem's hair stood on end before spinning dials. Finally he turned and saluted. "Course laid in, oh mighty one! Happy trails."

Mr. O'Reilly turned amid a swirl of feathers to the jump chute and hopped in. He floated up the shaft. Silence stretched unbroken for a dozen heart beats.

"Understand this, Dr. Richardson," Captain Little Owl said without turning. "I had no say in that man's assignment to my ship. When my navigator took sick on Little Heaven, I was all for waiting in port until he recovered. But the Board of Directors wouldn't hear of it. They found that … that person to fill the billet."

"Do you think he's incompetent?"

"Oh no. He's certified by the guild school and has over a hundred jumps to his credit." The Captain drew a deep breath, and sighed. "I just wish he wasn't so ... so..."

"Colorful?" Jem suggested. Captain Little Owl rolled his tongue around his mouth as he tasted the idea, then nodded. The other crewmen laughed.

"Mr. Philips, the course is laid in," the Captain said. "Get us underway."

Around the bridge, the crewmen studied readouts and adjusted settings. Captain Little Owl slid into his station and glanced over the telltales that mirrored the activities at the other stations. He inserted a key into his console and punched a button. Jem felt a slight fluttering in my gut as the ship went translight. "Breakers!" Mr. Phillips shouted.

"Dr. Richardson," Captain Little Owl said. "Our next jump won’t be for three days. Why don’t you take a tour of the ship now?"

Jem mumbled thanks and stepped to the grav-chute. Security Officer Small Bear smiled and nodded as he stepped onto the jump chute.

~*~

The common room of Grey Wolf was just another bland beige cube; automated, clean, and incredibly boring. But this room and the 3-D sensorium were the only public areas open to passengers. Jem could have joined one of two high-stakes games of rummy tarot or caught a feely at the sensorium. He returned to the notes from his last case study, a white magic druid priestess piloting the Eastern Dawn. Jem glanced up when a dark-haired man in a tweed jacket slid into the chair across from him.

"Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

The man laughed and held out his hand. "I'm Joe O'Reilly, ship’s Navigator. I saw you on the bridge yesterday."

Jem jumped. "Oh! Sorry. I didn't recognize you without the paint and feathers."

"Yeah. People have trouble recognizing me without my vestments. When I have communion with the Goddess, I'm quite a different person." O’Reilly shrugged. "Captain Little Owl asked me to see you."

Jem pumped O'Reilly's hand. "Thanks. I thought this trip was gong to be a waste. I'm a Fellow at the J.J. Hopkins Institute for Astrogational Psychology. The Ballard Line recently funded my five-year study of navigators and their methodology. Did you get the memo? I'd like to talk to you about your remarkable talent."

Mr. O'Reilly shook his head. "You’re not an initiate of the Goddess, are you?"

"No, I was raised Episcopalian. But my research is about the scientific basis for your ability, not your religious beliefs."

"Come now, sir. You saw. I called the Goddess and she guided my hand. I’m just her vessel."

Jem smiled. All navigators started like this, unshakable faith in their belief system.

"I don’t question your religion, but that defies logic. I've studied 157 navigators so far, who navigate by scrying with crystals, channeling for dead spirits and calling on a dozen different gods. And all this works, but none follow your goddess Pita. How would you explain that?"

O'Reilly shook his head. "I've never given it much thought. But when I smoke the herb, she comes. What more do I need to know?"

Jem steepled his hands in front of his face. That’s the rub. How do I broach the subject when the navigator’s faith is so central to the process? Start simple.

"Physicists have proven that mass and energy have different qualities that manifest across the ten dimensions of our universe, beyond the four we see. You follow?" Mr. O'Reilly nodded.

"Well, the Hawkins interstellar drive works by manipulating the qualities of matter that exist in three of the non-spatial dimensions. The drive conveys those qualities to another location. Since an object the size of this vessel can’t exist in two places at once, the Grey Wolf moves."

"Yes, I've read about this," Mr. O'Reilly said. "That’s why my Goddess is so important."

Dr. Richardson nodded. "Yes, the navigators are vital because of the nature of the space-time continuum. We can’t see what’s out there. Light still moves at light speed, but a vessel traveling at ten times the speed of light far outpaces it. At several hundred times the speed of light, you literally can’t see conditions ahead until you’re there. Collisions are disastrous at interstellar velocities."

Mr. O'Reilly smiled. "But with the help of my Goddess, I foresee a safe path."

"Exactly. You’re able to plot a safe course without using your senses. I believe you and your fellow navigators are using some sensory pathway to perceive distant locations via one of the higher dimensions."

"Sir, that’s nonsense! I've been a Priest of the Goddess all my life. She comes when I call and gifts me with knowledge I use to guide the ship. I feel her presence, commune with her. I couldn't do that by myself."

Jem shook his head. "I can’t speak to your religion. But I’ve been studying this phenomenon for eight years, and I’m convinced there’s no supernatural power at work here."

The little man shifted in his seat and scratched his cheek. "This is all new to me. If I have this ability within myself, what role does my Goddess play?"

Jem shook his head. "I can’t answer that. Anyway, all I want is to run a battery of tests. The main instrument is a measure of precognition and clairvoyance. I'll know more once I see the results, but I'll bet you score high on both scales."

~*~

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

Jem jerked awake, confused. Inside the tiny confines of his cabin, the pounding on his door was like the booming of a bass drum. Grumbling, he rolled out of the fold-down bed shouting, "All right! Hold on. I'm coming!"

As soon as Jem threw the latch, the door surged in throwing him stumbling across the room. The cabin lights flared revealing Security Officer Small Bear filling the doorway. His eyes swept the room, never stopping. Jem spasmed alert when he saw Small Bear was pointing a weapon at his mid-section.

The security officer stepped close, wrapped his hand around Jem's upper arm and yanked Jem up. "I'm sorry to interrupt your sleep, Dr. Richardson. Captain Little Owl needs to see you." The man's voice rumbled like thunder in the distance, dark and visceral.

Anger flashed through Jem. "Dammit! Haven't you people heard of the intercom? What's so bloody important it can't wait for morning?"

"The Captain didn't inform me of the reason for his summons. But you must come now. If you have a bathrobe, you may put it on. Otherwise, we go."

Officer Small Bear stood back while Jem pulled on a thin robe, then jerked him out the door bare foot. Jem felt a child as his bare feet slapped against the metal deck alongside the giant officer.

~*~

Jem squinted in the harsh arc lights glinting off bare metal walls. Officer Small Bear shoved Jem into the cell and stepped back to the entrance.

"Well Dr. Richardson, I’m glad to see you’re awake," the Captain said from across the cell. "I’m sorry to have to disturb you."

Jem nodded even though he didn’t believe for a moment that the Captain gave a damn about his slumber.

"I warned you about messing with my ship. Now your meddling causes a problem."

Jem glared at the Captain as he sat on the cell’s metal bed. "Bull! I’ve done nothing to interfere with your ship. You’ve ordered me barred from all of the technical sections of the ship, so I couldn’t sabotage this vessel if I wanted to."

"Done nothing?" The Captain laughed. "My Navigation Officer, he talks gibberish. He claims that he’s been blinded by this goddess of his because of his sins."

"Huh? What sins?"

"He says you talked to him about ESP, psychic powers, and other garbage until he doubted his goddess. Says she’s blinded him as punishment. And without a navigator, we’re marooned."

"Why is that a problem? You have an assistant navigator on board, don't you?"

"We lost both Standing Horse and his apprentice at Little Bit of Heaven. The Board promised me an assistant when we reach Way Far. O'Reilly is, or was, my only navigation officer for now."

Damn! Jem couldn’t recall anything like this ever happening before. "All right, so we’re without a guild navigator. You must know the location of the ship in space. Just plot a course to the nearest port."

Captain Little Owl laughed. "We know our position and the position of the nearest port. What course would you have me steer?" The Captain’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I’d think you’d plot the shortest path to the port."

Captain Little Owl shook his head. "We would be dead if we did. We’re in a dense area of the galaxy. There’re dust clouds and fields of cold hydrogen all around us. At translight speeds, it’s undetectable. Pass too close to such a large mass and we’d be converted into randomized energy. Poof!"

"I know some vessel traveled to this system before. Can't you use an old course plot?"

"Mr. O’Reilly tended to zigzag through space toward the destination. Sometimes the ship travels twice the distance of the straight line."

"So when Mr. O’Reilly lost his ability to plot a course..." Jem began.

"We were in uncharted space." The Captain paused and stared. "Right now, nobody but we three know this. The passengers are asleep and I ordered the crew to step down for routine maintenance. The passengers will panic when they learn. Hell! My crew may mutiny. And I won’t guarantee your safety in that event. Unless of course you fix this screw up."

Jem felt an icy jolt in his gut. "Fix it! Nobody in the universe knows how navigators find their way through the void. How am I supposed to fix something when I don’t know how it works?"

Captain Little Owl shrugged. "I don’t know and I don’t care. You screwed things up with your meddling. Fix it. I’ll give you twelve hours. After that I have to announce our problem. My crew, they’re good people. But they’re hard. They have to be to survive in this profession. They'll be very unhappy. And you wouldn’t be the first person to disappear from a vessel in deep space. Twelve hours, Dr. Richardson." He opened the cell door and walked out. Across the hold, Officer Small Bear nodded as Jem padded out.

~*~

The lights in the ship's narrow corridors were dim, in keeping with the vessels day/night cycle. The shadowed corridors only spooked Jem more. He only half believed Captain Little Owl's threats. But he was sure of the peril the ship was in if Mr. O'Reilly wasn't able to steer the ship to safety. Guilt raked him as well. Did I cause this crisis? Have I destroyed O'Reilly's faith in this quest for knowledge? How many people will die if this ship never makes port?

He made a quick stop at his cabin to change and review his notes on the snake goddess, then called the captain on the intercom to explain his plans. There was only one solution really, but Jem quailed at the idea. Within a few minutes, he was tapping on Mr. O’Reilly’s cabin door as he collected his thoughts. The door jerked open, revealing a haggard man.

"Ah, Mr. O'Reilly, I'm glad to see you're up. The Captain asked me to speak with you. He said you're having a problem."

Mr. O’Reilly glared as his jaw muscles bunched. "The Goddess is angry with me. She abandons me here in space. All because you tempted me with your heresy!"

"Please! I'm a scientist studying a puzzle. I certainly meant no disrespect to your goddess. And I think I can help. May I come in?"

O’Reilly's face twitched and twisted before he nodded and stepped aside. Jem slid past in the narrow entranceway and sat in the chair bolted before the fold down desk. The little man squeezed past and flopped on the bed.

"I've been researching your problem. Your goddess is a jealous deity. And she refuses to answer your call?"

"I've smoked the holy herb and prayed three times. She does not come. But the fault is mine. I listened to your lies and doubted. I believed that I could work miracles. Now she turns her face away."

Jem nodded and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "There is a cleansing ceremony you can perform for absolution. Couldn't we do that?"

"There is such a ritual." O’Reilly stared at the floor. "But another must perform the rite of absolution with me. The penitent cannot do so alone."

"But I can. I have the full rite here in my data file and can act your advocate to the goddess."

O'Reilly's face flushed as his mouth worked. "This smacks of more blasphemy! How can a nonbeliever act as my advocate?"

"I've studied the ritual carefully. I don't find anything saying it can only be performed by a Priest of the goddess. And I was given this rite by your high priestess, Ra-Quator, so I doubt my information is wrong."

O'Reilly stood and paced in the cramped confines of the cabin. Finally, he grunted.

"Yes, I've endangered the crew and passengers by my transgressions. I must atone somehow. If I must risk greater damnation, so be it."

"The Captain should have cobbled together the things we'll need, except for Vlat. Do you have enough?"

O'Reilly gestured to a large clay pot in the corner. "Enough for a hundred such rituals." He grinned. "You will smoke with me? And call the Goddess?"

Jem grimaced at the thought of smoking the drug. "Of course," Jem said. "That’s part of the ritual."

~*~

When Mr. O’Reilly and Jem stepped out of the grav-chute onto the cargo deck, their breath fogged the frigid air. Little effort was made to heat these dark metal caves. He shivered in his cotton cloak and loincloth as he looked around.

Captain Little Owl grinned at him from across the hold.

"Do you have everything?" Jem said.

The Captain pointed across the hold. In a corner, rugs and potted plants scavenged from the passenger area were set in a circle around the altar made from a square stack of lumber. Mr. O’Reilly pulled on his arm. "Please. I want to get started." Sweat streamed off his brow in the cold air. Jem followed, shivering as the icy metal deck jolted his bare feet.

Jem shivered as he stared at the pipe resting on the altar. He just needed to get through this. As O’Reilly’s advocate, he must smoke the drug. He could ride out the drug effects in his cabin once he’d finished the ritual.

Jem stepped to the altar as Mr. O’Reilly knelt behind him. A booming drum beat pulsed from the intercom as Jem raised the pipe overhead. He could feel his fear as sharp pain in his gut. But the Vlat was an integral part of the ritual. Damn! He dared not fake any part of the ritual. Mr. O'Reilly must accept the ritual completely or Jem would fail.

Jem raised the pipe over his head and shouted, "All hail Pita, Goddess supreme! Take pity on your wretched servant, Joseph O’Reilly."

Mr. O’Reilly responded in his native tongue and took the pipe. He lit it, huffed deeply and handed it to Jem.

"Hear us, Goddess. Heed our call." Jem clutched the pipe and sucked in the acrid smoke. His throat felt like he'd inhaled flaming shards of glass. He coughed violently as Mr. O’Reilly chanted.

"Your servant, Joseph O’Reilly, confesses his manifold sins," he whispered through a searing throat. "They are grievous to him and he craves your forgiveness. Hear our prayer, oh Pita! Come to him and show him your mercy. He is bereft unto death by your absence. Save him from damnation!" Jem drew the sign of the snake goddess on the altar in imitation lamb's blood.

Mr. O’Reilly shouted and chanted again. He puffed vigorously on the pipe and handed it back. The cavernous cargo hold expanded as the Vlat crept into Jem's brain on little cat feet. The dim lighting flickered and shifted as if flights of birds were passing overhead. Jem sucked weakly on the pipe and coughed. The biting cold of the hold receded while the discrete sounds of the Grey Wolf suddenly thundered in his ears. Mr. O’Reilly chanted tearfully behind him. His voice droned on as he made his confession. Jem's sense of time meandered. He chimed in from time to time as the pipe passed back. He felt as if his entire being was compressed into a single point floating above the deck.

"Hear our plea, oh Goddess! Give us a sign of your mercy. Forgive your most unworthy servant, Joseph O’Reilly." Jem jumped when Mr. O’Reilly shrieked and slumped down.

"Goddess, forgive me, I confess my error!" O’Reilly cried. Then he grew quiet and smiled as he gazed into the distance.

Jem smiled also and turned away. Success! Call it self-delusion or wish fulfillment, how could O’Reilly fail to find her when she’s the product of his own mind? Jem considered the paper he would write as he wove unsteadily to the grav-chute. "The Effect of Hallucinogenic Drugs on the Self-Delusional Behavioral Matrix of a Subject Navigator" was his tentative title. But that was for later. Right now he wanted a hot shower and bed. He stumbled to a halt midway to the grav-chute when a voice that was unlike any he'd ever heard called. Jem turned to the voice and found he was standing in a lush tropical meadow.

Jem stood frozen, staring about a lush jungle glade. Where am I? What's going on? And then Jem spotted Her across the clearing. He felt Her presence like a physical force in his head, clouding his thoughts. He fell to his knees and buried his face in the grass. She called again and he crawled across the clearing on his belly to lay at Her feet.

Jem felt so intoxicated by Her nearness that he almost fainted. He was like a baby, without rational thought. There was no denying the desire, he had to be near Her. She laughed and then spoke. There were no words, only bright crystalline ideas blooming fully formed into his mind like bubbles bursting on the surface of a still pond. She was pleased that he had saved Her servant, Mr. O'Reilly, from sin. Ecstasy coursed through him. She also chided him for abusing Her rituals and he writhed in agony as the dark shards of Her displeasure slashed his soul. Still, She would overlook the outrage this time as he was so ignorant. Jem wept. And then She reached down and caressed his face.

No infant has ever been more content wrapped in his mother’s arms. No man was more fulfilled while clutched in his lovers embrace. Life had no greater meaning than this moment.

And then he was laying on the cold metal deck of the Grey Wolf.

"Goddess?" he called and looked about. Officer Small Bear stood watching.

"Goddess!" he shouted and scrambled across the deck to kneel before the makeshift altar. "Please Goddess, I meant no insult. I didn’t know any better! Forgive me! Don’t leave me. Goddess, please!"

Small Bear grasped him by the upper arms and lifted him off the deck as Captain Little Owl walked over.

"Well, what does our man of science think now? I warned you about being so self-assured. I've spent half my life among the stars with this thing." He nodded at the prostrate navigator. "I've learned that you don't meddle with what you don't understand. Not when your life depends on it. But you've done a man's job here. Good for you!" His smile widened. "But I think I'm done with your meddling."

He glanced beyond Jem to the silent stone holding Jem aloft. "What do think, Security Officer? He's intoxicated and in a restricted area. Lock him in the brig. We'll put him ashore at Way Far."

The End

Story Copyright © by James R. Stratton. All rights reserved.

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