Chapter Thirteen
Intrepid - 3756 C.E.
There was much that was currently troubling Emmanuel. The essential nature of the mission that he signed up for had changed dramatically now that the space ship Intrepid had steered itself into the Anomaly. He had no recollection of ever having committed himself to a mission from which there was absolutely no chance of return. Just how had this happened? How had his memory been so faulty? The evidence of the Intrepid's records was unambiguous. The space ship had indeed all along been mandated to enter the Anomaly and never return. How was it that he'd ever believed otherwise?
It was difficult to know now what role a Special Operations Officer should now serve. Emmanuel was told that all strange events were from henceforth of scientific rather than operational significance and should be reported as such to the Science Officers. Petal Chang, the Chief Science Officer, was adamant about this. His job was to focus on the welfare of the passengers and crew, not to investigate the Apparitions that were popping up randomly all over the place and whose very existence was daily making him question his belief in a God whose methods and intentions weren't just random and meaningless.
Maxwell was less anxious. Emmanuel's husband also had difficulty in remembering a time when they'd been briefed that the mission would ultimately take them inside the Anomaly, but he was persuaded by the senior officers' counsel.
"What sense would it have been to come so far and not actually enter the Anomaly?" he asked.
"The likelihood is that we'll perish there and no one will ever know what happened."
"What difference does it make?" Maxwell asked philosophically. "We could easily have been killed a year ago when we were stormed by that trillionaire's arsenal of missiles. If your friends, the Holy Coalition, had succeeded in overrunning the Intrepid we'd have been tortured and roasted alive rather than killed. You saw what they did to each other. What would they do to us?"
"They weren't quite my friends," said Emmanuel as he grasped his husband's erect penis on the bed where they lay. "But you're right. They had no concept of tolerance or mercy."
"And they'd hate us for what we've just been doing," said Maxwell wiping a drip of semen off Emmanuel's cheek.
"And for what we're about to do," said Emmanuel as he pressed his lips against his husband's and squeezed his balls.
It wasn't easy for Emmanuel to discuss the extent of his concerns. There was something very peculiar about how willingly and enthusiastically the senior officers and scientists had embraced the Intrepid's mission into the unknown. It was as if there'd never been any other conceivable course of action. It reminded Emmanuel of the blind faith that bound the Holy Coalition together. None of the fanatics he'd interviewed questioned the truth of what they were told about their mission. And none of them ever wondered how it was possible for others in the Holy Coalition to have different views to them, often disagreeing on only the most minor detail, and yet for only one view to be absolutely and totally correct. And most of all, he despaired at how the Christian faith which had brought him so much comfort and resolved so many issues could so often be used to justify injustice and tyranny. Did none of those who considered themselves Christian ever wonder how an honest believer in Christ's gospel could condone or even pursue the unchristian and cruel practices that was prevalent in their supposedly Christian societies?
Emmanuel had plenty of leisure time. When he wasn't making love with Maxwell, he exercised in the gym or jogged around the extensive lawns and gardens of the Intrepid's various levels. He enjoyed running round the lake on the fifth level. He often paced along the trails in the rain forest on the seventh level. He took peculiar pleasure in the random paths that weaved around the gardens on the third level. It kept him fit and healthy and it allowed his thoughts to wander. Sometimes he enclosed himself in a small private aural field where he could listen to the thirtieth century choral music he so enjoyed much and which captured the spirituality and wonderment of his faith even more than the polyphonic choral music of the sixteenth century.
It was while jogging along the canal path on the eighth level that Emmanuel encountered someone whose presence disturbed even further his already delicate equilibrium. Since the Intrepid had entered the Anomaly, like everyone else, Emmanuel had a story to tell about the weird transitory Apparitions that appeared and so rapidly disappeared. The sight of an angel flying overhead was especially worrying for him, as it made him wonder whether it really was an angel sent down from Heaven expressly for him. This was especially true given that the angel was in the form of precisely the kind of androgynous man that Emmanuel most found attractive (not that Maxwell in all his hirsute splendour could ever be described as androgynous). After a while, Emmanuel learned to attach no particular significance to these apparitions. Peculiar though they were, they rarely interacted with anyone and left little trace that they'd ever been there.
The figure Emmanuel saw striding towards him along the canal path from the opposite direction was certainly peculiar but it wasn't transitory and it didn't have the mythological aspect that characterised so many of the Apparitions. It was also unlikely to be another passenger or member of the crew. Although Emmanuel was far from the only one to take advantage of the Intrepid's extensive open spaces for exercise or recreation, ever since the Intrepid entered the Anomaly there were few now so inclined to venture beyond their homes or where they worked. Perhaps it was because they were so engrossed in the work they were doing, as the daily reports so enthusiastically implied, but Emmanuel guessed that it might have more to do with the unsettling presence of the Apparitions. It had become harder, for instance, to persuade Maxwell to venture far beyond the front door.
"These weird Apparitions," he admitted. "They freak me out. I don't see how you can be so unaffected."
"No one's been harmed by them yet."
"That might change at any time," Emmanuel's husband suggested. "Some of them are fucking frightening. Did you hear about the thirty metre dragon that flew over the ninth level? It smashed the roof of one of the villas."
"These things appear anywhere and at any time," said Emmanuel. "We're as safe outdoors as we are in."
"I just don't want to take the chance."
Perhaps Maxwell was right after all. The figure approaching along the canal, with a silver cross emblazoned over the long dark coat that covered him from his throat to his ankles, was none other than Isaac, the fanatical Soldier of Christ, who Emmanuel was sure must have perished along with the rest of the Holy Coalition when the Intrepid was assailed just over a year ago.
Emmanuel's faith wasn't so naive as to rely on a belief in an afterlife. After all, in what form would a person be resurrected? Surely, if God were just and wise, not in the same aged, diseased or damaged form in which a person died. An eternity as such could never be Heaven: it could only be Hell. Nevertheless, what other explanation was there for Isaac being alive unless he'd been resurrected from the dead. It was truly inconceivable that he could have survived the onslaught.
That is, if the figure was truly Isaac.
Emmanuel slowed down to a walk and continued onwards, hoping not to betray his nervousness. When he came within hailing range of Isaac, he stopped in his tracks and addressed the still approaching figure. There was no evidence that Isaac's wariness was because he recognised the Special Operations Officer who'd interviewed him a year earlier.
"Isaac," Emmanuel said. "It's good to see you again."
The figure stopped abruptly as soon as he was addressed.
"Do I know you?" he asked in surprise. "How is it that you know my name?"
"We met just after the Holy Coalition attempted to invade the Intrepid," said Emmanuel, in the hope of jogging Isaac's memory. "I was the one detailed to interrogate you."
"Interrogate me?" Isaac said in some confusion. "No one has
ever
interrogated me. What nonsense is this? What
is
the Holy Coalition? Coalition between what and who?"
Emmanuel was confused. This man was clearly Isaac. He was identical, although he was now fully dressed and his hair had grown several centimetres. The face was the same. The voice was the same. Was Isaac in some way deluded?
"Don't you recall the storming of the Intrepid by soldiers from the Holy Coalition?" Emmanuel persisted. "You served as a Soldier of Christ from the colony of Holy Trinity in Mercury orbit. Those who survived the assault were all captured, imprisoned and interrogated."
