Part II -- Welcome to Kiyonis

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Date Posted: 00:20:52 09/06/01 Thu
Author: The High Voice and Trevor Deoge
Subject: Part II

All around the table, white-haired men are gathered
Spilling their sons' blood like table wine
Remember everything I told you
Everything in its own time

--Indigo Girls, "Everything In Its Own Time"

The High Voice for once, does not seem to be super-aware of what Trevor is thinking. He is caught up in his own glory.

"Isn't it beautiful, my child! Look at them!" He waves his hand across the hallway, as is showing off a work of art, "They are to be the first untainted ones! Free of Nature's perversion, their bodies perfect, their minds unfaltering in their belief!"

He takes a step forward his arms outstretched, as if trying to grasp the heavens. Then with a grand flourish he spins around, his robes twirling in manner both inspiringly grand and intensely dark. The light in his eyes bursting with the light of a bonfire.

"With these we will make the army of believers with which we can forcibly take all those who try to taint the glory of Neuracomp and the glory of the high races! It will be a jihad none have ever dreamed!"

Trevor finds himself following the High Voice into the room, his head turning side to side like a tourist, trying to take in everything and block it out at the same time. He shuffles up to one of the glass and steel containers, touching the glass plate, feeling it cold against his fingertips. It's a human inside there, a young man with brown hair. He looks so happy in there, smiling as if in some secret, joyous dream. Trevor swallows. "What--what's happening to them in there?"

The High Voice walks up behind Trevor, placing an arm around canine-morph's shoulder. Then he to touches the glass. Strokes it; Gently, lovingly.

"We are shaping them back into the divine form, the form the Transcendent One first dreamt of," he smiled. "Their genetic structure is slowly being changed to fit divine properties, and their minds are being shaped by the enlightenment nodes affixed to them."

At any other time, Trevor would have rejoiced in being touched by the High Voice. But now he just shivers, feeling as if cold water is being poured down the back of his robes, soaking his fur. He draws his paw back as if the glass had just burned him, letting it drop to his side. "Changed to fit divine standards. . . " he echoes softly, ears moving forward, then back, then finally to droop. "But--but what are the divine standards?" He wants to look to the High Voice, to read his face, but he knows that all he'll see there is glee, the glory and the righteousness. And why shouldn't there be? he finds himself thinking. After all, what he's doing is right. . . But he can't bring himself to think the same way. Ah, such sinful, dirty thoughts! After all, what the High Voice is doing must be just. Neuracomp brings enlightenment. Trevor stares into the glass instead, looking at the ecstatic expression of the young man floating inside. What is he seeing now? What is he thinking of? Does he know what's happening to his body?

Trevor is one very confused puppy.

"The divine standards are what we all aspire to be. The perfect body, the perfect mind, the perfect personality. All will have these. In mind and body we will all be equal, the way the Transcendent One intended," he speaks calmly, apparently having regained his composure and returned to his calm and calculated self. "Of course there will still be a variety; eye colour, hair colour, facial features. But we will have purged our weaker, undesirable characteristics. And our minds...no more of Nature trying to sway the belief of the High Races. They will be incapable of doubting the words of the Transcendant one."

He studies Trevor, noting the signs of revulsion in his face.

"They all wished to be here, you know. Every one of them. After feeling the divine, they desired nothing more than to fulfill the vision of the Transcendent One."

"I--I see," Trevor mumbles, trying to school his features, realizing that they've always told too much. "And--and what about the animal-breeds, like me? Do they have a place in this?" Why did the High Voice bring him here? Does he have a plan in store for Trevor? Is he about to end up in one of those jars? He's not quite sure what he thinks about that. How he feels about his body being changed--ah, but those are filthy, filthy thoughts given to him by the traitorous Nature, aren't they? He should be happy about the chance to become part of the divine plan.

"Of course, the animal-breeds are the Transcendant One's creation. One of the high races. Already in here there are many of your kind. Come, my child," he beckons to Trevor and begins to walk down past the jars.

"You see, my son. There is something very special about you..."

The High Voice pauses, and sighs. He seems...unsure. He does not quite seem to know how to put what he is about to say. He speaks, not looking at Trevor. "You...are already a part of this project. You are, in fact, far more involved than you have any idea of."

Now he looks at Trevor, looks deep inside him.

"You...are one of them."

"Me?" Trevor squeaks, feeling like a child again. He was inside one of these tubes? Like that man--that woman--that little old lady--that alligator animal-breed-- "But how--when--" Trevor's look turns almost panicked. Shouldn't he remember something like this?

The High Voice looks almost ashamed. "Yes. You."

He looks very regretful, "Yes, and I am sorry to have to put you through this. I am. You see..." he searches for the words, "you were one of the first to be purged. Your mind, anyway. But we made mistakes in process. And we are worried your mind may begin to regress..."

He looks at him with pity, "I am sorry, my son. None should have to face the tanks twice."

This is a little too much for Trevor to take. His mind reels with the information, and he grasps at what he can understand. "I--I was? But--why don't I remember?"

The High Voice radiates sympathy. "Any memory would be a sign of the taint. When they arise from the tanks it is a new life for them. It is a rebirth. Though our research shows that you may begin to remember your past life." He grips Trevor by the shoulders, "We must put you back in the tanks before that happens! It will be too painful for you if we do not. We can make everything better. You'll be fine."

Trevor's mouth opens and shuts, but only faint choking sounds come out. The High Voice's eyes are too much, here, three inches away from his face. They are like the universe, all encompassing, all knowing. Except, that, well, the universe doesn't really care who lives or dies. But does the High Voice, really? Trevor forces his eyes away to stare at the tanks.

He really has to purge himself of these evil, sinful thoughts of Nature. But he doesn't know what to do anymore. How much of his thoughts come from the tank, and how much from Nature? Is Nature really evil? Is there such a thing as Nature? Is there such a thing as the Transcendant One? But there has to be, or where would have all these words about goodness and salvation and kindness come from? Trevor has always thought that he was doing good by helping the poor and the needy, by acting with compassion. These are things that made the world better. Nature is cruel and evil, without care for those that were weaker. . .

At least, that is what they told him. And Trevor finds that he couldn't remember ever thinking anything different. That was, somehow, disturbing.

Finally he manages to rearrange his voice into some semblence of coherency. "Gi--give me a few days to get used to the idea, sir," he says, his voice more pleading than he meant for it to be. "You have to realize that this--this is kind of a shock, sir."

A mental battle goes on inside the High Voice's mind upon hearing Trevor's request. It could be very dangerous to allow one who knew some the secrets of the Church to risk regressing back to his former self. But none had been forced yet, and he did not want Trevor to be the first. So young, so innocent...

"Very well, you may takes a week to decide. For the sake of Neuracomp, I hope you make the right choice, my son."

For Trevor's sake he hopes he chose the true path. If not he would have to be captured and forced into the tanks, regardless of his decision.

"You have no reason to doubt me, sir," Trevor replies, giving him a weak grin. A pause, and he plows on ahead, daring to take the initiative. "And--if you have no more need for me sir--I'd--I'd like to go home. With your permission, of course, sir."

The High Voice at first does not respond. Then, he nods slowly, "Yes, my son, you may return to your home. "

He turns away from Trevor. "You may leave now, if you so desire," he says, making it sound like an order.

And Trevor beats it, not even looking back. He leaves as quickly as he can while still remaining dignified--which isn't terribly fast, as Trevor is never very dignified to begin with--and, once out of that terrible room, discovers that he doesn't remember how to get out into the street.

It takes him an hour to find his way home.

I'm guided by a signal in the heavens
I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin
I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

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