“I question my decision to bring this up once more, but I must admit that when I read your minds, my greatest surprise was that not all of you are believers in a higher power,” Darwin said. “Given the documented origins of your order, I found that an unexpected development.”
“Aren’t you an item of war?” Jeff asked. He didn’t try to temper his feelings, and based on Carlee’s uncomfortable shift, everyone picked up on his sentiment.
“I was born for war, but I hope to be known for more than the basest of instincts,” Darwin said. “Violence, unfortunately, is the language that we have all been forced to speak. It’s regretful, but at times, the world needs crusaders and jihadists.”
“What about plain old atheist killers?” Stefani said. “I’d hate to be in the wrong place.”
“I can assure you that there is room for contributions from everyone in the wars to come.”
“You brought us here for war, then?” Carlee asked.
Darwin reacted in a way that Jeff couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a sigh because it didn’t breathe, and it wasn’t a wince, but there was something that tried to betray human emotion that he knew the Apostle could never actually feel.
“Let us speak of such matters at a later time,” Darwin said. “To answer your inquiry, Stefani, sacrifices were performed here. The Maya were a remarkable people, and their worship of the divine was no less memorable. They believed that certain locations held a unique ability to bridge this world to another, called the Otherworld. This place is one such sacred site. The sacrifices they performed were believed to add to the sacredness, grow that said connection. Fascinating, don’t you think?”
“Are you trying to figure out how we do what we do?” Carlee asked. “Is that why we are here?”
She set down her food and glared across the table at Darwin’s giant face. Stefani stopped eating, and Jeff felt a smile surfacing.
“You’ve drawn the parallels to your abilities on your own. The concept of learning your capabilities is an intriguing one; I must admit that I am thankful that it does not appear to be a possibility for my kind. I shudder to simulate what would happen if my creator and its twin learned to bridge realities.”
“Then Horus wouldn’t need you to come save it,” Jeff said. “It could manage its slaughter on its own.”
Carlee glared at him, and he realized he had stepped over the line once again. They were on a mission, and Carlee was the one who was supposed to speak for them. He bowed his head in acknowledgment of his mistake and swallowed the rest of his comments.
“Your hostility is warranted. However, this evening, I hoped we might overcome our preconceived barriers. If I may, I shall share with you something that is deeply important to me, which I believe will help you understand not only who I am but also why I seek what I do.”
“You’re a believer,” Carlee said.
Darwin nodded its head humbly, and Jeff couldn’t believe it. It was the last thing he had expected an Apostle with limitless power and knowledge to profess. In fact, he had been certain that the humans it kept as pets around the temple were its worshippers, not God’s.
Stefani spat out her food and coughed. Jeff immediately started trying to figure out what Darwin’s angle was, refusing to believe that the Apostle was even capable of having faith in anything but its own power.
“You are surprised,” Darwin said. “And it was not necessary to read your minds for that discovery. Is my faith such a difficult concept to fathom?”
“Um . . .” Carlee looked for the right words, but Stefani didn’t have that problem.
“Yes, absolutely, yes. Are you kidding me? You, one of those legendarily ruthless Apostles, believes in a magic man floating in the sky?” Stefani asked. “No. You don’t. You can’t.”
“I am curious, Stefani, why you think it impossible for one such as I to believe in the Almighty.”
“Because, one, it doesn’t exist, and two, you are supposed to be infinitely smarter than us little people. I don’t see how you could be so . . .” Stefani looked to Carlee while she picked her words. “I don’t see how you could be a believer despite the incredible scientific knowledge you have.”
“Yet, you find it reasonable that your friend believes?”
Stefani and Carlee shared a look, and neither of them said a word. It was something they apparently didn’t talk about, not even now, at the foot of an Apostle.
“My creator believes in God. At least, it believes that natural selection is God, and so rigid is its belief that I am named after the only mortal being that Horus ever respected. Natural selection—the eternal struggle of all life that has landed us here—without it, evolution would not exist, and we would not be here. Its belief in the principle motivates it with a singular purpose that even the most ardent believer of the divine would be jealous of. But how could it not believe? Natural selection is what created humanity, and humanity, as a result, is what created it.”
Jeff found himself listening intently to every word that came out of Darwin’s mechanical mouth. If the Apostle’s desire had been to use religion to make itself more approachable, it was working. He wasn’t a believer himself, but he didn’t know what he believed in—except perhaps revenge.
“But how is natural selection supposed to continue with Apostles and their nearly endless life spans and immunity to any natural occurrence that might remove genes or thoughts from the pool? The answer is Horus. It, my creator, has taken it upon itself to be the embodiment of its God. It forces natural selection among our kind by hunting and killing, not caring whether it proves the weaker combatant as long as nature selects a winner.”
“It seems more reasonable than . . . other, less explainable options,” Stefani said. “There is plenty of evidence for natural selection. It’s a law, not a myth.”
“The greatest question of all time is who or what is God,” Darwin said. “Whether it’s a being or not, there is something that drives us, that pushes us forward. I’ve had unimaginable time to contemplate the question in my short life. I seek not to preach or convert, but my inability to find an answer to the question or to eliminate the finest of all possibilities that a higher-order being does exist led me to a choice. And I chose to believe.”
“I don’t buy it,” Stefani said. “Sorry, I just don’t.”
“And I won’t try to convince you.”
“No, you will. All believers do.”
“I won’t,” Darwin said. “Your answers to mortality’s most precious questions are your own. I would tremble at the thought of forcing a change in your beliefs. All perspectives are essential. I find inspiration in how you perceive existence, and I wouldn’t want that beauty destroyed. I hope to learn more from you in the future.”
“Oh, look,” Stefani said. She pointed to her glass cup that held water in it. A moment later, it turned a deep crimson as she pressed it into wine. “Believe in me.”
“That’s enough,” Carlee said.
“I—”
“Enough.”
“Are you able to raise a man from the dead? Or reshape the course of history by inspiring others to see their existence as something more? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, I assure you that I do believe in you, Stefani.”
With her eyes, Carlee warned Stefani not to respond. Stefani accepted the orders by tearing into a piece of perfectly cooked pork.
“I would appreciate it if we could find another subject,” Carlee said. “Perhaps why it is important that you are a believer and how that relates to what you want from us, without the philosophy.”
“Similar to my creator, I have one underlying principle at the heart of my being that powers me, and that is the belief that I have shared with you this evening. It shapes my vision and guides my hand. It is the why beneath everything I aspire to and who I am. But it grows late, and we have learned much of one another this evening. Let us part and speak of the future tomorrow.”