18

Chase and Mel remained at the computer station to await Switchblade’s return. Amos had gone to his room to rest. Did the man sense the cancer overtaking him?

Before long, the door that led upward swung open and Windsong stepped into Blue Sky Field. Switchblade followed a good distance behind her. The woman’s tangled blond hair fell across her the shoulders of her soiled blue uniform.

“Hey, my favorite gameshow host.” She greeted Chase with a quick hug. “Thanks for taking me in.”

She smelled like the back corner of a barn. “I guess you got my message about the transport taking livestock north,” Chase said.

She laughed. “How can you tell? Look, we have a lot to talk about, but could I get a shower and some clean clothes first?”

“I’ll show you the way,” Mel said. “You’re going to bunk with me.” She held out her hand. “Melody Reese.”

Windsong shook her hand and the two headed toward the dorms. Switchblade dropped to a chair and scraped it across the floor as he pulled up to the work station.

Chase sat beside him. “Was she sure nobody followed her?”

“Couple of little goats was tagging along.”

“This is serious, man.”

“Nobody knows she’s here. Old farmer just wanted to get his produce to the slaughter house. He dropped her off on the highway.”

“I’m guessing she rode in the back with the animals.” Chase smiled.

“Almost didn’t let her in when I caught a whiff. But the mess didn’t hurt her none—she’s a good-looking woman.” Switchblade nudged Chase with his elbow. “Ain’t she, Charlie?”

“Not interested, Switch. You go for it.”

The big man grumbled and then laughed under his breath.

Amos returned from his rest and got an update on the new arrival and on what was happening with believers across the continent.

“Four branches of the underground have been forced to relocate today,” Chase told him. “Intel shows fifty-seven supporters were detained. But it looks like the day will end with almost everyone seeking asylum being taken in without incident.”

“So, we lost four of our bases,” Amos said. “And so many of those who helped us up top.”

“The Feds are coming at us,” Switchblade said. “Why?” He gawked at Chase as if he knew the answer.

Chase couldn’t argue. “I will go whenever you tell me to, Amos. You know they’re looking for me.”

Amos shifted his weight and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Chase, why are they looking for you all over the place? Did you feed them some more bad information?”

Chase met Amos’s stare. “Yes and no. By the hour the exoself seems more proficient in anticipating my next course of action. My systems have the Feds chasing rabbits. The intel says I’m here, then it says I’m there. And I’m the one who’s doing it. Only it’s not me.”

“Do you think the exoself has developed its own consciousness? Its own survival instinct?”

“It’s thinking for itself,” Switchblade said. “Is that what’s happening, Charlie?”

“I don’t know. I’m a transhuman, but I’m not a transhumanist—I didn’t design this stuff. I’ve reviewed data and read online books. The science is starting to make sense, but I might owe that to my recall enhancement. The other side of it, the philosophy, is as foreign to me as—”

“As Christianity?” Amos asked.

Chase nodded. “As any deep belief system. The pioneers of the transhumanist movement were zealots. And now the scientists, the government, the entertainment platforms, are all putting their faith in it. It’s not about curing disease and improving the quality of life anymore. It’s about living forever. It’s not that different from what you want, is it? It’s a religion. Only…”

“Only what, Chase?”

“It’s a godless religion. They are their own gods, and they want to live forever by their own existence. By their own power.” Chase pressed his fingertips into his temples. The sting of Switchblade’s blow was gone. Had the processors in his body boosted his capacity to heal? That wasn’t possible, was it?

It almost sounded justifiable—this new religion. A human being as proficient as a computer and just as durable. And Chase was the first to profit from its blessing. A man who didn’t follow transhumanism became a transhuman. A man who didn’t follow Christ became an honorary member of the Underground Church. Chase lowered his gaze and sighed.

“Godless, indeed,” Amos said. “And yet to be like God is what they desire. Chase, do you know the story of the tower of Babel?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He perused the exoself for information and found the old story. But not the scripture. “I’ve got it. People tried to build a city on their own laurels without acknowledging God’s dominion. But God confused their language and the tower was destroyed. He split up the smart guys, huh?”

Amos nodded. “Do you know why God did that?”

“I’ll tell you why,” Switchblade said. “Because God don’t got no competition. Ain’t nobody gonna bring Him down, and nobody’s gonna bring themselves up without Him.”

“Is God that easily threatened?” Chase asked.

“No. There is no threat,” Amos answered. “He wants to come down to us, to lift us up. But the tower was built, and the transhuman is built, as an act of rebellion.”

“What does that make me? A rebel? A tower to be knocked down?”

“You ain’t nothing but a rock at the base of that tower, Charlie. You didn’t put yourself there. Once the tower comes down, the rocks get cleaned up and used for something good.”

“Switchblade, that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard come out your mouth,” Amos said.

Chase, as usual, found the whole thing baffling. He narrowed his eyes at Switchblade. “Thanks. I think.”

The conversation could have continued, giving Chase a chance to catch on to the things the exoself didn’t understand any better than its host. But Mel returned with the newest resident, who was cleaned up and dressed in jeans and gauzy white blouse, her long blond hair pulled into a ponytail.

Amos rose to his feet and faced her. “You must be Windsong. We owe you so much for all you’ve done up top. We’re grateful that you escaped today, but sorry for the loss of your plane and your services. You’ll stay with us now, for as long as we can manage down here.”

“Don’t think I’m unappreciative for your help in keeping me out of prison today, but I’m not staying. I’m getting my plane back,” she said. “And then I’ll go to the EU. I’ll paint the plane and change my alias, and I’ll continue my work for the Lord. That’s what He wants, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Amos lifted his brows and shook his head. “I don’t see how, young lady. It seems an impossible task.”

“You’re looking at the water, sir, and not at the one who walked on it,” Windsong said.

“I suppose I am. Forgive my unbelief. What is your plan, young lady?”

“You’re going to help me,” she said to Chase. “I need somebody to change my life.” She smiled and slapped him on the back. “Let’s get to work, Chase Sterling.”

“I thought you and God had this worked out,” Chase said. “What do you want from me?”

“A little interference in choosing a location for my plane. You’re connected to the Feds, right? Have them send it to the nearest airstrip.”

“The nearest airstrip is covered with drones,” he told her. “I’m afraid that won’t work.”

“So send the drones somewhere else.”

“The more I interfere with the local entities, the greater my chances of being found,” Chase said. “Drones are manufactured and tested in the area. Hundreds of them would have to be relocated. I think somebody would notice that.”

“So what? Switchblade said you were making stuff happen all over the WR.” She grinned and bounced on her toes. “It’ll be fun. You’ll be right under their noses and they won’t even notice.”

“Sounds too risky,” Amos said. “We just got the Feds out of town. I don’t want to bring them back.”

“Wouldn’t it benefit all of you if the drones moved out of this area?” she asked. “Maybe you should wipe out the whole place.”

“What are you suggesting? We aren’t doing anything to add truth to the Feds’ lies about us. We aren’t terrorists.”

She blushed a little. “I didn’t mean you should blow it up or anything. Look, we’re in this together. There’s got to be a way to evacuate that drone plant for a few hours and get my plane to land there.”

“You seem in a hurry to leave us, Windsong,” Switchblade said. “I know Mr. Sterling was hoping you’d stick around.”

Chase glared at the man. “I can get the functional drones out. And I can get the plane in. Getting you on the plane and in the sky would be difficult.”

Windsong swung her ponytail over her shoulder and laughed. “Difficult never stopped me before.”