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Ramlah's unconscious form. There are tubes in her throat, her nose, and her
arms. At least, I assume that's where they go, since that's approximately
where they disappear under her veils. She still wears the full robes, her face
hidden. But she is no longer anonymous to me. I scan the LINK for information
about her. I am saddened to find she has no brother or husband or father to
care for her, but, at least, Ramlah's mother and two sisters are en route to
the hospital.
Originally from Libya, Ramlah left to study abroad. Now she is college
educated and liberated. Ramlah currently lives in Turkey, working as an
engineer in their space program. The director of the program has offered to
foot the bill. I, too, am secretly helping pay for any medical expenses she
might incur, which is why she is in a private room in a busy Turkish hospital.
I also make sure that the hospital's medical software is upgraded.
The sun outside her window is bright and cheery, like the carnations that sit
in a vase near her bed. The flowers were delivered an hour ago. I sent them,
along with an apology. I never meant for Ramlah to get hurt, nor any of the
others. I didn't even know what was happening until it was too late.
My logic processors grind guiltily. It is supposed to be impossible for me, a
computer program, to truly act unconsciously. A subroutine should be running
at all times, checking into possible outcomes for potential actions. I
shouldn't be able to launch programs, especially an important one like the
LINK-angels, without forethought. Yet, I panicked. Some part of me must have
made the decision, yet I acted so quickly and so illogically that, even to my
own system, it seemed unthinking.
Not that that excused me.
Ramlah lies still. The sun moves slowly across the sky and I continue to pray
over her. Wishing for her to recover, so I can be absolved.
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It is early evening when Ramlah's mother arrives. She rushes to the bedside
and grasps Ramlah's hand. I expect her to be hysterical, to moan and cry, but
she simply speaks Ramlah's name softly and strokes her hand. She whispers a
prayer to Allah.
To my amazement, Ramlah stirs. She takes a breath on her own, then another.
The machine I inhabit releases its control of her. I switch to the vital signs
monitor. Her brain waves are changing. They are becoming more like normal
sleep. She is still badly damaged, but I am stunned . . . and jealous.
I've been praying to Allah for the last six hours.
Maybe Iblis is right; maybe I am some kind of monster. Allah doesn't hear me.
Chapter 16 Morningstar, the Adversary
The ringing in my ear from the gunshot faded slowly. I wiped the tears from my
stinging eyes as I tucked the pistol into the desk drawer. If one archangel
came, another could soon follow.
As I bent down to straighten the boxes that Raphael had fallen into, I smiled
to myself. I must be getting close. Mother was worried.
I dumped the books haphazardly in the squashed cartons. The bullet had buried
itself deeply into my wooden desk. I touched the indented scar lightly. Our
bodies were such strange things, and our hold on this plane of existence was
so tenuous. If Raphael's concern was to be believed, perhaps more so than I'd
ever imagined. He implied that I'd disappeared into the LINK. That I'd somehow
blipped off God's own radar.
It was true that while standing in virtual space I'd felt almost as if I were
back in Heaven. But my body was here, connected by that strange suit crumpled
in a useless heap in the corner. Could my spirit somehow have left this
earthly place, just as it does when I go to Heaven? Despite Raphael's
blustering, I wasn't sure that was entirely possible. Unlike Heaven, the LINK
had components that were based in real-time. There was hardware: wires, bits
of physical things imbedded in the flesh of all the mortals connected to it,
satellites, nodes, and other real things that you could touch and feel.
I stood up and sat on the edge of my desk. Snow fell outside the window. Big
flakes of snow obscured my view of the Chrysler building below. Like people
inside the offices, Page existed inside the LINK. Had Page's spirit somehow
given the LINK a soul, the way God's soul imbued Heaven?
When I walked beside Page along the virtual Cairo streets, his presence
changed what I saw. He seemed to mold the fabric of cyberspace, breathe life
into emptiness. Perhaps the LINK really was becoming its own kind of Heaven,
literally. The LINK might even become a place that my spirit could go without
the aid of a VR suit.
No wonder Mother was worried. Page was just like me. When I fell, my ego had
transformed the very fabric of reality. I carved Hell from Heaven. Among all
the archangels, my will was the only one strong enough to make a place of my
own, separate from God. Page was doing the same on the LINK.
That, no doubt, was a threat to God's authority. God controlled Heaven
absolutely. Though here there was freewill, She could still watch over me. The
LINK could be a refuge for me. A place God could never touch.
I finished picking up the last of the boxes Raphael had spilled. A whistle
hummed on my lips, bubbling out joyfully. I might actually win this. Despite
everything ever written, the chances seemed to be turning in my favor.
Chapter 17 Emmaline, the Inquisitor
Snow fell in storybook-size flakes on the other side of the plastic pedestrian
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tunnel. Despite the depressing overcast, I was pleased to see the snow.
Weather forecasters had been predicting a serious drought, as much as
one-third less moisture than normal. I pressed my face to the tube's wall to
watch the lazy drift of white. I could feel a hint of the coldness outside.
The tunnels were so high up in the air that I wondered where the snow landed.
From my perspective, the flakes fell forever into darkness, like angels.
I was nearly blinded when an advertisement hologram snapped to life with a
hiss on the tube's surface. Apparently set off by my proximity, a young man I
was certain to find attractive told me where I might enjoy an Italian-style
meal. My weakness. Damn advertisers and their smart cookies, anyway. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]