Roidon sat at the compound’s conference table facing Central Council members: his supervisor and two elders. They were in full earnest mode with the plain white suits and that stilted formal manner of speaking. They seem to otherwise look perfectly human, and he still wasn’t sure if this was through genetic alteration or their ability at mental projection. He suspected the former since they would surely not make the effort for him, as if he’d be unsettled by their true appearance in any event.
‘The council has decided by a majority to suspend research into countering temporal eradication,’ said the oldest of the two elders.
‘Suspend,’ said Roidon, almost jumping out from his seat but suppressing the urge just in time. ‘Is this an admission of defeat? In B’tari speak surely that means you’ve given up.’
‘Not, quite,’ the younger of the elders said. ‘It is merely to reconsider our strategy.’
‘I know what this is about: you’ve lost two members of the research team, their knowledge will be extracted by the Elusivers, so now they will develop a counter measure to everything we’ve done.’
‘You make a fair point, Roidon Chanley,’ said the eldest, evenly.
‘Well, try this point on for size: You – the council – anticipated that would happen. I mean, it’s not as if these aliens don’t know exactly what we’re doing anyway. So I think you made it easy for … well, certainly Torbin Lyndau to take your new tech ship to exactly where the Elusivers would be able to trap him. And then – I’m guessing now, but I know how you lot think – he will be taken but with something special for the Elusivers, something that will harm them, or disadvantage them at least.’
‘Interesting deduction. However, the aliens we face would not allow any B’tari technology to go unscrutinised. They would sooner destroy it than let it enter their domain.’
‘Nevertheless Torbin was meant to go to that human ship, and it certainly wasn’t to recover its dead crew.’
‘You are free to speculate, Mr Chanley. Do not expect us to comment any further, however.’
Roidon’s supervisor then spoke. ‘Roidon, we have a new mission for you. There is a group calling themselves “The Transcenders”. They believe the way to circumvent what they see as the impending doom is through death itself.’
Roidon sighed loudly. ‘You actually want me to infiltrate a cult?’
‘Is that such an unreasonable request?’
‘There’s always going to be some suicide cult, but by definition it’s not going to impact the wider population.’
‘I believe you may be wrong about that. Their influence appears to be spreading.’
‘And I thought the impending doom was supposed to be a closely guarded secret.’
‘We all believed that. Nothing has been revealed in the media. Perhaps this group’s leader has some special insight. We can only speculate.’
‘---Until I discover the truth. Well, I’ll admit I’m intrigued.’
As Roidon walked out of the conference room he wondered whether this latest mission he’d been given as something to keep him occupied and out of trouble. Still, there was something about a cult leader that stirred his interest … and maybe a few of its members would stir something else in him.
*
Raiya packed her small flat console into her side pocket and looked around the office for what might be the final time. This pale beige and white cedar-wood paneled room represented the last twelve years of her life. Even only a few weeks ago she imagined remaining here, consulting, researching, for at least another twelve years. But so much had happened in that time – to her, to the world, that no longer could even another day be contemplated. Her work here, it was everything. Perhaps that had been the problem for some time – too much involvement. Now, all her work, every case file, would have to remain at the institute. A new life awaited her. A research project commissioned by the Canadian government into the emerging religious sect, The Transcenders; studying their media-net output, the testimonies of those who had been rescued from their clutches. By what seemed like some curious twist of fate (and not without a certain logic behind it) she’d be working with her old colleague Leonard Heigener – a prospect that up until a few months ago she would have have welcomed as more than just the acceptable option, in any context. Now she imagined feeling only slightly less uncomfortable than remaining here. Even the pay would be considerably lower, but this was the perfect opportunity for a fresh start.
At 1.15 her faithful security manager Jannson was still on his lunch break. He normally only took half an hour, forty-five minutes at the most. To walk out now for the final time seemed cowardly, but balancing that with the awkwardness of saying goodbye – the difficult exchange of inadequate words to salvage any kind of friendship. No, perhaps it was better for the both of them if she slunk out now. At least there was the excuse of her appointment to see Dr Heigener to discuss the preliminaries of their new project.
As she entered the parking bay, Raiya imagined this would be the time for something bad to happen, when only AI systems were monitoring. But instead she’d got in her car with not a sound or movement around her. And even that felt wrong: how could it be so easy to leave for the final time?
Her car told her there was an audio message from Heigener. He said: ‘Hi, Raiya. I guess you’re on your way as you hear this. Listen, I’m going to be a bit delayed, possibly half an hour – problem with a patient – but keep on your way. Just make yourself at home when you get here. Message end.’
She thought about replying but maybe it was best not to interrupt him. A problem patient ... old times!
The Minnesota institute still looked as rustic as she remembered, with its farmhouse appeal surrounded by a generous floral display against a lush backdrop. But as her car descended troubled thoughts rose to the surface. Committing to this project had seemed like such a logical choice, there was no way she could have stayed at the institute. But now something about this place was making her heart race. It was fear, foreboding. Yet she had been here several times; this was the first negative reaction.
As she walked towards the entrance the feeling didn’t get any better. And waiting there as the security scanned her, it got worse: she was perspiring, even though it wasn’t particularly warm.
The door opened after what seemed like half a minute, and the receptionist’s voice: ‘Please come in, Dr Fortenski. Sorry for the slight delay,’ No explanation, she noted.
At the reception desk the young woman told Raiya her new office was ready, and said, ‘Dr Heigener will be ready to see you shortly.’ Again a lack of anything specific, as if she was just another patient. But she didn’t question.
Raiya’s office door opened almost immediately, recognising her features she surmised, without the need for an extensive scan. It seemed just as well equipped as her last one but about half the size – she would not be consulting patients here, though the reclinable chair was a nice touch, and even a discreet sound-system.
But that irrational feeling of fear remained.
She activated the soundsystem, allowing it to randomly select the music. It chose Schubert – no doubt something Leonard would like, and it would do for background. Meanwhile she activated her office console, text floated up: Welcome, Dr Fortenski. I am your personal electronic assistant. It then presented her with the standard icon menu functions to be plucked out of the air. But she still preferred the simplicity of voice commands. ‘Give me Transenders: overview case file .
<Transcenders info: Founded by Parmayan Radandich (no background record exists for this name, suggesting it to be a pseudonym). He still officially directs the group’s activities, but only makes brief appearances at monthly meetings [according to a former member, see: case-file Colletson, Michael 205]
Transcenders core belief system consists of the following:
a) The world is faced with an imminent disaster, certain to wipe all human existence from the planet, the nature of which will be revealed on the day when the “Bortati” descend to earth to impart their wisdom.
b) Certain “chosen” members of the group will ascend with the alien “Bortati” and thus be saved from destruction. Those who do not qualify [for reasons not yet known] are offered the chance to ascend in a non-physical way to join their alien saviors in the spiritual realm (methods of suicide were not specified).
c) All other non-members are destined to be eradicated, not only from existence but from all memory.
See analysis files for more insight.>
The music, that she’d been barely aware of, stopped for Dr Heigener’s voice. She was surprised to see him standing there, without having heard him enter the room. ‘Raiya. Sorry to have kept you waiting.’ he said, looking slightly flustered. ‘Hope you made yourself comfortable.’ Noticeably, he had put on weight in these last few weeks.
‘Don’t be,’ she said. ‘I’ve been able to familiarise myself with our new research subject.’
‘Yeah, there’s nothing as diverting from the day-to-day patient list than a good pseudo-religious cult.’
‘This is my full time job now, remember – no more consultations for me, Len.’
Heigener smiled and nodded as if he’d suddenly remembered. ‘Things got complicated, I understand – one too many wackos.’
‘You could say that.’
‘Well, at least you’ll be able to study them from a certain distance.’ He tapped her desk.
‘So they’ve been gaining some attention from on high?’
‘They’ve certainly got the government’s attention. The board have decided this group could potentially be dangerous. They’re getting stuff out in the media, and it’s spreading through the net like wild fire.’
‘I’m still curious as to why they are being taken so seriously. I mean, there’s been various doomsday cults following similar belief structures, that simply got dismissed.’
‘Well, Raiya, that’s the reason you’re here.’
‘Only the best qualified, then.’
‘Indubitably!’
***