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Redemption Point


“What are they afraid of anyway?” Jevic switched off the general band of radio traffic that was being broadcast to every ship at Redemption Point. Dozens of ships from large Church cruisers to small makeshifts clustered into viewing range to spend a few minutes basking in the past and testing the fabric of their faith. Jevic’s own craft was the worst of the last kind. Basically it was a small box with engines attached. He had built it himself over years of persecution. It was built for this exact purpose. Jevic had to know. He had to see for himself.

“Why are they so afraid of people seeing the truth for themselves?” The general band had been blasting propaganda since they had come into range. Jevic had left it on because it made the hairs on his neck stand up. It claimed that the king had been seen through emerging technologies decades ago. The church had seen, and that was supposed to be enough. They had peered back through time as the light from Earth traveled through space. They had decoded the failing bits of information and formed a picture of him.

But it was not for the layman to see for himself. The word of the church should be enough. Jevic had heard enough of that nonsense. The thrill of rebellion had seized him; he could feel the apostasy riding up in his veins, rising the hairs on the back of his neck.

His wife was weeping again. “Why are we here Jevic? You know the church forbids us coming. My family will never speak to me again. We won’t be able to show our faces at communion.”

“I can’t take anyone else’s word for it Marci, I must see for myself. If I see him then I will be the most faithful worshiper of all times. I will give myself to the church. But I need this sign.”

“But it’s wrong to look for signs. You know that. We must have faith. Proof denies faith.”

The all-powerful church could do nothing to prevent ships from approaching Redemption Point, though it had made the attempt in the past. The Point was actually an ever-widening and moving area of space. No ownership could be laid to it, and to purchase all possible angles would bankrupt even the largest business in the galaxy. And the temptation for the flock was too great: a chance to peer into their own history for confirmation or for disappointment.

“What are they afraid of Marci? If they have found the way, then what is wrong with confirming our beliefs? What’s wrong with finding out that we haven’t wasted our lives in servitude?”

Jevic’s turn had come. His communication station beeped as an urgent message was beamed at his ship. An old man’s face appeared in the small window of the station; he was a cleric of the church.

“Why do you persist in this course, my son? Why must you put our lord to the test? Let me tell you, I have seen him, in my younger and more reckless days. The fire he has been sown into my belly cannot be extinguished. Go home to your family. Leave this course of folly.”

Jevic switched him off. The brightness of the screen faded. He climbed into the navigation seat and plugged into the main view screen.

“Are you going to watch?” Marci looked uncertain, her eyes were red from tears. But there was still that glint of curiosity in her eyes.

Jevic remembered why he had agreed to marry her. She seemed so different from the usual prospects. So much more open to exploration and discovery. She was strongly indoctrinated, but who wasn’t?

Even when she found out why he had been building the ship for so long. She had humored him. Found ways to help. Jevic figured that she believed him not really capable of bringing them this far. Or to turn away at the last minute, not wanting to find that a lifetime of worship had been in vain.

“I will testify that you stayed in the cabin. Regardless if you plug in with me or not. I promise. Finally we will know the truth.”

Slowly she climbed into the second navigation seat. Jevic programmed the ship to maintain its thrust to draw out the moment. He loaded the scene. Jevic and Marci were together in the crowd that had gathered outside Jerusalem. Jevic grabbed Marci’s hand and squeezed it.

“If you don’t want to be here I understand. All you have to do is request the exit protocol.”

“I know how to exit, thank you.” But Marci wasn’t mad, she was engrossed. Everyone was there... It would happen any instant now... Then suddenly he appeared. He had risen from the dead! The basis for their faith was sound.

Elvis Presley was still their king.


Copyright © 2006 by Bewildering Stories
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