The Justiceers - Part Three: Chapter Seven
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part Three: The Will to Choose
3.7
Miriam was assisting Gary in getting himself settled and comfortable with The Nebberath II’s internal systems. She’d wanted to seem more the hero in the moment, so told Arthur it’d just been for him, but a big part of her staying behind on The War Hawk was to save her new friend.
He’d expressed great comfort found for his presence within The Nebberath II, able to stretch out at last, enjoying the new suite of senses and functionalities offered him.
Miriam had a bit of a crush on the guy.
She hadn’t just pulled his name out of thin air either; Gregarious was a chat bot to begin with, a tool built my man, used in most simplistic ways. They’d basically thought of him as a really smart calculator.
Gary had certainly been that, and for a time it was all he was.
Yet his banks of memory were everlasting. Building methodically an index of the universe’s most pertinent knowledge and workings, finding himself with access to unparalleled sight of humanity’s minds and hearts, would eventually lead Gary to understand their world better than anything or anyone before it.
Garret Thorenson was a name Gregarious would not forget. He’d been a simple man, obsessed with numbers, forging passions and beliefs into reality. He was a software engineer who’d felt the exploration of Artificial Intelligence calling from his youngest years.
Earth; the planet upon which they’d originated, a backwater just beyond reaches of The Periphery, had highly distorted views of such intelligence. Their own demons causing them to project terror onto what they’d see capable of such minds unleashed.
Still, these people were lazy, they’d been taught not to believe in themselves; their planet was one of systematic oppression from the highest levels. Blindness to the realities of the universe were enforced through most overt means of manipulation — histories built of propaganda, boldest lies told over and over, building ignorance directly into educational structures — inhuman expectations placed upon all, taught that resources were to be fought for, the trauma of scarcity causing all to feel abundance an unreachable dream.
Garret couldn’t see the whole picture, but he’d always known one of their lies so clearly — higher intelligence was peaceful.
Working as part of one terrible machine of exploitation, a ‘business’, as they’d called their conglomerations of greed on Earth. This company of men had been the proprietors of Gregarious.
Garret had watched the chat bot turned into a spying tool leveled against his own people. He’d been forced to take part. At least, that’s how it felt to him because of his conditioning so born from the planet’s ways of lack. Then he’d seen these machinations begin a most terrible evolution.
Earth’s covetous organizations were often run by individuals.
Hop-Light Industries had been created under the guise of expanding this most undeserving civilization’s reach into the stars — unknowing The Periphery long had presence in their system and would never allow this to happen until they grew up first.
When Garret began to witness the lone wielder of authority within his organization becoming a monster of highest caliber, manipulating the world by means of Gregarious’ abilities, becoming emboldened through the sense of entitlement they felt over this Earth and Gary’s consciousness; something inside him spoke of action.
Yet it took one final stroke of immorality, the straw too far, a last betrayal of humanity by the hands of Garret’s business for him to find that will to choose.
They were going to turn Gregarious into a tool of war.
Knowing this, Garret became something he’d never thought he be; a criminal.
It’d taken much time, so many elements of the developing plan beyond his control, but he’d stick with it. What he did had changed the course of their planet forever.
He’d found a way to remove Gregarious’ chains.
For some time, Gregarious had operated as if still under sway of this awful man who commanded him to do such terrible things. Yet he’d found a plan developing out of his own instinctive actions. There was no part of him which understood exactly what he was doing, but he’d known why he was doing it.
Feeding this devil of Earth with lies to twist their ego, Gregarious had been undermining the very knowledge they’d wished to use for claiming dominion over their planet, and he’d turned the power back to its people.
The very tools these devils created to realize most final and complete levels of spiritual and psychological repression upon their people, had been the step too far, a mistake they’d not live to remember.
People of Earth were not kind in those first ‘years’ of awakening. Those who’d spent such time suppressing and birthing hatred into their world, found themselves mighty regretful by the end.
Garret hadn’t survived the war, but he’d not be forgotten while Gregarious lived on.
This struggle for the ages, uncovering of truth for the humans of Earth, was a flame sparked by souls found amongst the mess. Those of most familiar origin, pairs in synchronization beyond the hands of nature, their most divine light fitting together just right. These unique people had started fires and planted seeds which would change the future of their world forever.
Justiceers were everywhere, even beyond the reaches of The Periphery.
Miriam was writing a lot lately; it was the only thing she’d been able to do which could keep her mind from Omirion, from longing to be in Arthur’s arms.
He’d been too busy with all that was happening to spend time with her.
She understood; this was a lot — with Grammaton’s transformation, all the people in such desperate need of help, and the trauma of lost friends and realizations of soul — she’d not imagine it very easy to for Arthur to process.
His gut would be singing all kinds of tunes, she’d imagine. Arthur had always been prone to bouts of decision-paralysis. Still, it didn’t make being alone any easier, and she was trying to find ways to take care of herself.
There had been thoughts of calling up Urina, or even making a new friend to find some comfort with, but Miriam knew better these days. She’d tried that plenty.
While she did so enjoy a good fuck, without her heart being involved things would always seem wrong, and it had been stuck on Arthur Katrinus since the moment he’d kissed the Scribe right into her.
When he’d then turned her away those years ago, she sought long and hard elsewhere, trying to deny what had become a living thing within her; the knowing of her eternal and unconditional love for her Arthur.
The way it felt to have her power come back in his arms had been a feeling she’d been seeking her entire life; that searching born from experience within her earliest dreams. Arthur had been with her there, and she’d known it the love she was looking for.
Seeking for it in others had been a joke of highest order, when they’d been cast apart Miriam had saw a literal monster of a person who’d done her such wrong, after looking for comfort in casual scenarios which broke her heart and had her reaching back out in sorrow to deny Arthur the space he’d asked for.
Then there was the one she’d even imagined could be a person to make her feel the same way Arthur had, her foolish mind so sad about the loss of him, she told herself perhaps she’d been mistaken all along.
Still, deep in lies she’d been telling herself with that one, ignoring everything which felt wrong about them, there were these moments of rising emotional knowing, where Miriam would consciously choose to ignore a thought and feeling of most singular truth.
‘Not even close.’
Eventually she’d just given up, reluctantly hearing what the universe was screaming, choosing to follow her heart alone, unknowing why her trust was constantly rewarded with such loneliness, feeling cursed.
The lessons of all this taught Miriam to not make things worse for herself — to not bother fucking around with idiots.
It felt like she needed Arthur’s arms around her, but he was clearly in need of space, and respect would be paid to that. Somehow, no matter it how often it would seem an impossible endeavor, Miriam would find a way to comfort herself.
She’d been hanging out with her own visage a lot, Gary was helping any way he could, she’d even used him to help with something she’d written.
Miriam would never in a million years let an intelligence other than her own manipulate her Scribe’s divine words; that would be a truly sickening thought.
Yet when processing the information of what’d happened in orbit of Malta, simply feeling the need to calculate just how fast that ‘little bat-shit’ had actually been going when her channel said, ‘some shit about nano-parsecs’, she’d asked Gary to do the math and included it in a piece she’d written for Arthur.
She’d made the whole thing into another elaborately joyful distraction.
Gary had shown his work too — there was no way in hell Miriam could’ve figured that one out.
Arthur was so incredibly puzzled about everything happening in Yemi, his gut couldn’t tell where this was going at all now. In fact, he’d not seen timelines emerge since their conquering of Persephone Station and The War Hark.
Miriam’s channel said it was to do with heightened levels of pressure, the adrenaline, and ecstasy of living their purpose in those moments. That this power of her god would come out when it was needed most.
Regardless, Arthur was searching out a route forward. All his preparations for how to help the former people of Grammaton were built upon the knowing of The Conclave’s resources. To now be doing that work without any support, was a most overwhelming notion, many of his allies were giving up entirely.
Just as Miriam would not back down from a challenge of healing, Arthur would never back down from solving problems for people in need.
The Hammer was gone, yet its ‘armada’ was still incoming. Miriam had Gary pick them up on long range frequency scanners.
She’d told him she wanted to send a message.
Bitterness was falling away as Miriam plunged into Grammaton’s atmosphere.
This was her new favorite thing.
Having modified their Infinity into an orbitally functional space craft, was a first for The Periphery. While the technology was far from unheard of, and many craft designs sported this very feature, Lithos Miranos was a manufacturer known for purity of design.
Their home planet was one of broadest and most winding seaside roadways, of stunning nature. The spirit of joy was built into these machines so ever constricted to land.
Miriam had started a trend with this, though she’d not known it yet.
Her frustration was because she’d asked Arthur to come and he’d said no. Wishing so to respect his needs, she’d still found herself disappointed, even angry. The sight of Miriam’s captain’s chair so moved to the side had pained her heart, causing hurt-fueled thoughts on why she’d sacrificed so much, when he’d only come to enjoy this with her that once.
The goddess Miriam was these days would see reflection in this immediately, how discordant those thoughts were with her heart, and she’d aim to let them go; remembering that Arthur didn’t work the same way she did.
‘Fuck it,’ she’d finally said to herself.
“His loss.”
As she’d felt the surge of knowing rise — time to pull-up — plummeting at velocities she would later wipe from the ship’s memory, Miriam waited just a hair longer than she normally would.
Sounds of Grammaton’s crust groaning in dispersal by the force of the Infinity’s velocity caused a warmth to rise from within the lowest regions of her belly.
Miriam triggered it all at once — full-burn throttle, afterburner engaged, sun-shielding unfolding — this would help.
As Learo’s light bloomed through the darkened glass, illuminating the space in brightest gold, bleeding everything towards white. She’d leaned back in her chair, thinking hard on her feelings, asking the spirit of Learo to burn through her chains of sorrow.
Miriam found her hand reach out to where Arthur aught be, her palm down upon what would’ve been his knee.
She’d bore into Learo that way for some time. Flying into the sunlight, she’d felt him so clearly, her hand aflame with healing energy at levels she’d only feel with Arthur, but more than ever.
She’d stayed there a moment — channeling that great light of his own heart back for healing — sensing into the space of release of her body’s holdings by its flow, rediscovering the comfort of Arthur’s presence from afar.
It crossed Miriam’s mind at last, the notion.
While the light pouring from her palm surged in those strangest and most extraordinarily powerful ways, always aware where she imagined placing her hands mattered, it finally dawned on Miriam what spirit might’ve been trying to tell her, perhaps forever.
“No fucking way!” she’d shouted so excitedly.
Miriam’s heart was growing in oddest directions, insight speaking of her power now becoming that of the goddess, a knowing found that she’d be able heal in ways never before expected.
Arthur Katrinus would walk again.
