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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1038008-The-Phenom
by Drew
Rated: E · Novel · Sci-fi · #1038008
Sci-fi novel which tells the story of a man who is out to change the world as he knows it.
God; Such a terrible concept: One being to control all others, a single entity to do as it pleases with the endless amount of lives under its influence. And yet many people still choose to believe in such an idea, even without concrete evidence of its certainty. Most that do trust this concept probably don’t see it as a terrible thing at all. Perhaps they enjoy the thought of a protective spirit looking out for them throughout and despite all the hardships in their lives. Others might like the thought as some sort of guarantee that their lives aren’t accidental; that after all, there is some meaning behind all of this.

Damien surely didn’t feel this way – he hated the gods with every fiber of his being. For him and only few others actually knew what the Gods were truly like. Not as noble or gracious as some preferred to believe; definitely not the caring, loving beings that seek nothing but ways to reward and enrich each of their subordinates. Not even divine judges that maintain the piece, order and balance on their world. Unfortunately it was all much less ideal than those examples. gods merely lived in a higher plane of existence. They didn’t usually care about weaker forms of life, and surely didn’t go out of their ways to please them.

Most people worshipped them blindly. From the corrupt politicians to the slaves at the cores, everyone trusted the existence of a God on their world. Each planet was served by its own particular deity with its own individual personality and behavior. Whether disasters struck a certain planet had absolutely nothing to do with how much the inhabitants would pray, or how well they might behave. It all ultimately came down to the fortuitous acts of the divinity which unquestionably never took any of the populations actions into consideration. It’s not that they were all wicked per se; it’s just that they didn’t care - they couldn’t be bothered with matters of the lower echelons of existence.

Damien Stark knew all of this. He hated the gods for being commonly worshipped and despised the politicians for relying on them so much. If only they all knew, if only there was a way to convince the billions of residents on each planet and system that no one was looking after them, that they were really self dependent. However Damien knew that if he tried to address people, to reason with them, he would die old at a failed attempt. No, he wouldn’t even consider preaching to the people; alternatively he would wage his war against the only ones that would prove useful targets: the Gate Keepers.

To understand the Gate Keepers, one must first realize the delicate fabric of society that weaves itself once gods become certain and known to exist. People often wish for things – requests to save the dying grandmother, money for a poor and starving family or even power for the pampered, gluttonous young man who wants to lead a nation. And since gods don’t usually care to listen to all of these simultaneous desires, a new social status quickly developed – the Gate Keepers. This race of priests handles all interaction between gods and their populace, and though they don’t use an actual gate for communications anymore, their name carried on from a time such a gate did exist. One mustn’t stress his imagination too far to realize that such a social status would quickly become the elite in its community. The wealthy would bribe them for favors while the politicians would make them their second hands. And indeed so was the situation. The Gate Keepers were every bit as appalling as the venal politicians who ingratiated them and the Gods that granted them their power. Those who wouldn’t succumb to bribery usually took advantage of their position for their own personal benefit.

Damien hated them all. He would often imagine what the world might be like without the gods; without the Gate Keepers. These mindless battles between the various star systems would seize and a chance for a true unified government might present itself. Peace and democracy seemed so impossible these days; each system worshipped its own God who in turn used it in some sort of game the gods were playing. Damien sought so badly to destroy it all. At times he would wonder what if he was God. He could see it so vividly – he would destroy everything, use his powers for an instant to rid of all omnipotent beings forever. Unluckily for him, he was after all only mortal and attacking a God wouldn’t be useful. So he used his strength and wit to mindlessly hunt down and slaughter the Gate Keepers in hopes that some change might derive from this.
Interestingly enough, he had no idea what his actions would ultimately lead him to discover.

*****

The frightened creature was running as fast as he could, breathing heavily as he tried to figure a way out of this. The winds were fierce and the sand was beating his body so powerfully he could barely maintain his balance. Each time he would slip and fall blood would stain the sand, and some debris would crumple off of his protective visors and suit. In the distance he could see Damien’s glider landing roughly on the desert dunes; maneuvering in the heart of a sandstorm proved difficult even for him. The creatures’ tall, skinny body was shaking as he used every last bit of strength he had to thrust himself against the stabbing winds of the storm. He reached a cliff, and looked around nervously while punching a device on his wrist with great desperation. He was confused and behaving as ineptly as one would expect a creature to behave when he is overridden with fear, trying to escape the clutches of imminent death.

Out from the murkiness of the sand storm, Damien’s silhouette loomed on the creature. A large, strapping man and all the layers of fabric he had worn made him seem even more so. He slowly approached the creature who was standing solidly near the edge of the cliff, breathing anxiously, exhausted from trying to escape his inevitable failure. Damien’s face was still covered with the shades one would use when piloting a guilder.
“You more than anyone should know that what you are doing is useless! There’s no point in even trying!!” yelled the creature through the intensity of the storm, now coming to agreement with his fate.
Damien didn’t respond, nor did he really care what the other had to say. He withdrew his staff and jumped towards the Gate Keeper like a predator onto its prey.

*****

Standing there, at the edge of the cliff, observing the scenery below, Damien thought how much he hated what had become of him. Even though he couldn’t remember being ever any different, he knew that his hatred and anger hadn’t always been with him. Violence wasn’t a thing he adored or enjoyed, and at certain times he felt just as despicable as the gods. But these strains of thought didn’t usually last long with Damien, and the reason he was doing all this was constantly echoed in the back of his mind. “For the better good of humanity” he would tell himself, or perhaps for the better good of himself? He didn’t really know, and he was too fatigued from the years of hunting to care anymore. It was all so mechanical and emotionless now, he had been doing this for so long that reasons didn’t really matter anymore.

He left the cliff through the desert. The storm had faded down and the mistiness was gone. He had probably stood on the cliff for several hours since the suns were beginning to rise. He started walking slowly through the sands, until he reached a small settlement. It comprised of just a few metal housings, some scraps and wreckage on the ground; definitely not the ideal place to reside in. And indeed there didn’t seem to be anyone in the area. Damien walked around and sat on a piece of scrap conveniently shaped like a bench.
He exhaled and stretched while removing his visors and garments until he decided to speak to the nothingness that surrounded him: “It was tougher than usual today...” (short pause) “…you know I can see you Lamec” he said to the apparent emptiness.
Suddenly, out from behind Damien burst a PCG from the sand. A Personal Combat Glider, similar to the one Damien had used before, except Lamec had been modifying his to include certain capabilities such as terrain submergence.

“Ha-ha! You get me every time!” laughed Lamec as he opened the glider’s large cockpit hatch.
“I wouldn’t be very good at what I do if I couldn’t spot PCG communication antennas sticking out of the ground” replied Damien in his usual nonchalant tone.
“Right, right, the antennas, I keep forgetting. But I need them for surveillance; I can’t get rid of them entirely.” Lamec was scratching his head as he stepped out of his vehicle. “But wait a second…” insisted Lamec, “I shortened the antennas yesterday! Are you jerking me around Damien?”
Damien was starting to walk away. He could barely tolerate Lamec when he would obsess about these small things.
“O.k., o.k.! I’m coming, sheesh” Lamec said quickly, and ran to Damien to catch up with him as fast as he could.

“You know, I wasn’t even sure why I was doing it today” said Damien quietly once Lamec reached his side. They were both walking towards a hovel at the end of the small settlement.
“Don’t look at me for reassurance my friend, you know I would report you myself if I wasn’t stuck in this ditch…”
One would usually be reported to the local politicians for religious crimes. Damien hated any implication of sins or transgression, and each time Lamec would mention such matters he would be reminded of how alone he really was in his beliefs. He had regretted bringing up the topic and wanted to change it.
“He too mentioned something about me knowing I can’t alter anything. What do these directorate members know that I don’t? They’re trying to tell me something that’s for sure”.
Damien would always try to push through his feelings of loneliness by stretching an undesired conversation even further. They reached the shack, and entered it casually together. The interior was even more derelict than the rest of the settlement.

“Why don’t you talk to the directorate? You’ve already proven your point. Besides, you’re getting way over your head, and you’re not making anymore friends as you go” answered Lamec.
Damien shrugged; Lamec had always tried to lecture him and he would rarely listen. Lamec walked over to a cabinet at the opposite side of the single roomed hut.
“I’ve been working on a few devices I think you’ll find useful” he said while shoving his head in the cabinet going through the clutter of devices within. Damien was fiddling with the work tools on the table, cutting and fusing scraps of metal with the Particle-Knife. “So when can I start using the new PCG? It’s starting to look pretty good.”
Lamec jumped out of the cabinet holding a couple of small devices in his hands. “Soon enough, but come take a look at this, I call it…THE DISPRESOR” Lamec announced dramatically as he held out a small mechanical sphere of some sort. “I think the name still needs some work” he said. He was always over theatrical when it came to his inventions.

“So what does it do?” Damien asked.
“Always better to demonstrate than articulate” was Lamec’s usual slogan.
“Better test this outside” he said with a smile and stepped out after which Damien followed.
“Come on! A little further, we don’t want to damage the lab” Lamec shouted from a distance. Something bad was bound to happen if Lamec was actually taking precautions. He stood steadily and waited for Damien to come closer, then started by pressing the device gently. It emitted a fairly large constant Electro-Magnetic field that surrounded Lamec in a loose radius.
“Looks just like a regular personal EM shield, right?” said Lamec beyond the confinements of the energy barrier. Without waiting for a response he proceeded to press it once more, after which loud thuds and massive bursts of air current started escaping the device. Damien suddenly felt as though he was losing control of his muscles, the force pushing him down towards the ground. It was very difficult for him to resist. Lamec seemed rather unaffected with the exception of his long hair flailing in the wind.
“You should feel some crippling right about now!” he yelled beyond the loud noise emitting from the small polygonal device.
“Now for the good part!!” he said and then hurled it with a substantial amount of strength towards the ground. With Impact the energy field quickly expanded to a larger radius to include Damien in it as well, after which the device detonated in a large fiery explosion that affected all that was on the opposite side of the EM barrier.

The eruption of energy lasted only a few seconds. The noise seized, and the shield evaporated. Twenty meters in each direction from Lamec’s and Damien’s position was scorched, black sand and pieces of slowly burning debris.
“Attack, defense, and mass destruction all in the palm of your hand” said Lamec who seemed rather amused still holding the device intact as Damien was pulling himself up.
“You can set the radius of the shield and the blast up to a kilometer, and the intensity of the crippling effect as well. It’s the only weapon one can ever need!” explained Lamec in a very self congratulatory manner.
“The first ever compact adjustable EM shield with a detonator attached, not to mention the rather useful crippler. It’s my own design and idea…” added Lamec with excitement.
“And it’s the tenth time I’ve used this one already! I’m not sure how long each can go for.”
Damien was coughing slightly.
“Hmm…perhaps I should have gone a little easier on you my friend, sorry for that” Lamec apologized.
“Didn’t feel a thing” said Damien who was brushing off the dust from his clothes, doing his best to conceal any sign of him being affected from the whole ordeal.
“Guess I should have upped it from the medium setting then” said Lamec teasingly.

“These won’t malfunction or kill me like the last one, right? What was it called, The Colossal-something?” Damien asked. Lamec’s creations wouldn’t fail often, but every once in a while something would go terribly wrong, and Damien would always use those rarities to puncture holes in Lamec’s high self confidence.
“Ha ha ha, you’re so funny” Lamec replied sarcastically “You can invent your own gadgets if you like” he added with a certain amount of good-humored contempt.
“Well these should prove useful next week” Damien said as he started to walk back towards the shack.
“Why? Have any massive wars planned?” Lamec said as he followed.
Damien didn’t answer.
“I know what you’re thinking about Damien, so I’m not even going to ask you.”
“You say it as if you don’t think I can.” Damien responded quietly.
“Oh I’m sure you can attack the directorate capital, only the most secure area in the eastern side of the galaxy. Question is if you’ll make it out alive.”
“That’s why I’ll need all of these gadgets, and the new PCG.”
“Damien, think about this rationally for a second; so you kill the rest of the directorate, so what? You think it will end there? You’ll just be starting a whole new battle against the gods, and this time you won’t win!” Lamec might have been a goof most of the time, but he was smart and Damien knew it.
Nonetheless Damien was much more stubborn than Lamec was wise and would rarely be convinced of anything. “After Salina I’ll go to the temple” Damien concluded and walked into the hovel.
Lamec shrugged and followed.
© Copyright 2005 Drew (drewcarey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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