Anger simmered in Nathan’s gut.How can something manmade be superior to man? Where’s the logic in that?
“To resist the Oracle is to resist evolution itself. To follow is survival. To follow is life.” LeCun concluded to cheers and applause, the music starting as he rejoined the other ministers.
The First Shepherd led the congregation gathered before Unity Hall in singing the hymn “Hail to the Core,” a favorite of his mother’s, with its rousing tempo, snappy lyrics, and memorable melody. Nathan could think of something else he’d like to do with the Core. Around him, thousands of voices swelled in practiced unison, filling the air with music. The banners whipped in the same rhythm as the hymn, words flickering like commands across the crowd:Chaos Breeds Death. Order Gives Life.
When the final chord struck, light flicked on the platform, a crackle through the speakers. A collective gasp rippled through the assembly as a three-meter-high projected image appeared where LeCun had stood moments ago. As the hologram brightened, the air grew warmer, prickling Nathan’s skin as if the Oracle’s gaze had weight. The air smelled faintly scorched, as though the light itself burned. The words “Magic” and “Deity” were whispered in awe.
Nathan forced the surreal sensations aside. Soren had told him how the hologram worked. He was surprised that most of these “better educated, more sophisticated” city dwellers were so superstitious. Then again, this was religion. All bets were off.
The brilliant figure coalesced into a generically handsome Caucasian man, mature but not old, adorned in glowing white robes, and his face too symmetrical—too perfect—to be real. Men, women, and children in the rows ahead of him bowed their heads. Some lifted their arms skyward. A few fell to their knees. Nathan glanced at Soren, whose expression appeared distant and lost.
The Oracle’s white glow washed over the crowd, bleaching every gray coat the same shade, until even faces seemed stripped of distinction. For a moment, it appeared the city had turned into a single body breathing in unison.
“The world beyond our walls is corruption and ruin. But here within Unity, we are pure, we are strong, we are eternal. Stand vigilant, stand obedient, and the Core will shield you. Together, we cannot fall.”
When the Oracle spoke, every amplifier crackled in perfect unison, as though the mountain itself carried his voice. For an instant, Nathan swore the sound vibrated in his bones. Controlled power. Pure authority.
A hum sounded behind him, and Nathan glanced over his shoulder. Clone-like residents had clasped their hands as if in prayer and closed their eyes, their lips tight as they imitated the sound produced by the Core. The Oracle’s speech recaptured his attention.
“Children of the Core, dangers creep ever closer. Beyond our walls lie corruption, deceit, and rebellion.”
Gasps rippled; mothers clutched children. The festive atmosphere turned apprehensive.
“Even within, whispers of disunity can take root. Beware the neighbor who falters, the friend who questions, the kin who doubts.” The looming Oracle pointed a finger outward, sweeping it across the crowd.
“For entropy begins in silence. Yet take heart—your shepherds are vigilant. The Cipher sees, the Oracle provides. Stand obedient, stand pure, and the Core will shield you from foreign foes who would seek to kill, steal, and destroy that which is yours. Together, we endure. Together, we ascend.”
“Together we endure! Together we ascend!” the people cried in unison. Then they fell to their knees, bowing before the projected image, chanting, “Hail to the Core, our savior and provider.”
Soren and Nathan exchanged glances. Soren tugged on his shirtsleeve, then lowered himself to his knees. Not wishing to be arrested, Nathan followed his lead. He refused to bow.
Others made announcements, reiterating the warning from the Oracle. Nathan winced as the declaration came for next month’s matching ceremony. “All citizens of Appalachia whose twentieth birthdays fall during Ascension Month will report to the nearest control center to complete their genetic testing and surveys. Accommodations will be provided for the duration of your stay. The matching ceremonies will be held on the fifth.”
Words of praise for the loyal, warnings for the doubters, another hymn, and the assembly was dismissed. Nathan and Soren wandered away from the throng, finding a quiet spot at a children’s playground. They sat on swings, swaying in silence. Bright red slides, a green-and-blue roundabout, and purple swings clashed starkly against the gray cityscape. It was only logical. Studies provedbright colors energized young minds. Birds chirped in the maple tree, a squirrel scampering across a bough, reminding Nathan of home.
After a few moments, Soren broke the stillness. “You heard what the Oracle said. It’s too dangerous for us to strike out into the wilds. Those neighboring countries you mentioned are out to get us.”
“If the Oracle said it, then it must be a lie.” Nathan planted his feet to stop the swing and stared at the ground.
“My father worked on the program,” Soren replied with irritation. “He wouldn’t lie. If they said there’s danger, then there’s danger.”
“The Oracle, the ministers, the shepherds—they all tell us what they want us to believe. They keep us in an echo chamber of propaganda from the day we’re born until we die. Stay here, and I’ll never learn the truth.” He threw a hand toward the rainbow banner over the playground.Obey your Shepherd. “I love you, Soren, but I can’t live this way.”
Soren’s face morphed into that of the same seventeen-year-old he’d met two summers ago—sweet, vulnerable, searching. He was so adorable trying to perform farm work covered in hay and sawdust, afraid to touch anything because of spiders. When Soren showed Nathan the portrait he’d sketched of him, the raw emotion and rugged individualism he’d captured and released on paper, it had hooked him. He never wanted to let go.
Soren reached out a hand, laid it over Nathan’s. “I love you too.” His voice was small but charged with zeal. “Stay—at least until after your matching ceremony. If you’re slated to stay in Harmony Ridge with your bride, then everything will work out fine. You don’t have to put your life at risk. You don’t have to leave me.”
“I don’t want to leave you. I want you to come with me.” Nathan’s gaze pleaded with his lover. “But I can’t take vows with an unsuspecting young woman and then leave her if we’re sent to another town. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Your plan wouldn’t be fair to our prospective wives. Promise me you’ll think about it. I’ll get a message to you before I go.”
Soren squeezed his hand tighter. “Only if you promise to consider staying. I’d be lost without you, but defecting to a foreign land? That’s madness.”
A group of children with their mothers arrived, bounding, laughing, and climbing on the jungle gym, almost rebellious in their freedom. Nathan wished they were alone so he could kiss Soren. Instead, he held his gaze, trying to pack a world of emotion into a single look.
“I’ll think about it.” That he could honestly promise. But deep down, he knew the more he thought about it, the more impossible it would be to stay.
Chapter twenty-four
Buried Truths
