With a whoosh, A.D. separated its consciousness from mine. Standing before me, it sifted and sorted. Its eyes shook, vibrating as the territory had done earlier. A screen appeared behind it. I expected to see something violent. Perhaps my first kill. Instead, it was the very beginning of me.
A rapid heartbeat echoed through the metal room. Red-tinted flesh twitched on the screen. A fetus appeared. I gaped at the scene. What could a fetus possibly do that required judgment?
A glow appeared. It brightened the womb. I went still, knowing what this was. Odin. This was the moment he had put my soul into a fetus. Oh, fuck.
My soul was the light. It seeped into that tiny body, Odin's chanting voice guiding me home. But that home was already occupied. As my soul sank into the fetus, it drove another light out, sending back to the Void or whatever soul well it had come from. It wasn't murder, but it was theft. A terrible theft.
Squaring my mental shoulders, I demanded, “And how do you judge me for this?”
“I judge this act as fifty percent bad.”
“Fifty percent? Interesting. You are judging each event with a percentage.”
“Yes, it is more accurate.”
“And why fifty?”
“Because you had no control over Odin placing you in that fetus. You did, however, have the chance to refuse to stay. You could have moved on instead of ejecting that soul.”
“Could I?”
“Yes. Your soul was aware of what was happening. You had all of your memories at that point. You knew what you did was wrong.”
I didn't agree with that, but I wasn't going to tell A.D. So, I just nodded. “Proceed.”
We sped through my childhood, with most of my significant events being weighed as good. That was more unusual than you may think. Children can be terrible. It takes some time before they understand the difference between right and wrong. We are all born selfish creatures—it's integral to our survival. Welearnto share, help others, and speak the truth. So, although souls may be judged for childhood evils, they are usually judged with mercy. At least, that's what I'd taught the machine to do.
I wasn't a normal child, though. Most reincarnated souls lose their memories. Because of the way Odin put me in that fetus, I didn't. To protect itself, my mind suppressed my memories of my past life. I didn't remember being Sabine, but some things slipped through. Knowledge came to me without study. I'd been a witch prodigy, performing spells far beyond my years. Once I met Odin and he told me the truth, my memories of him and my past life surfaced. So, maybe that's why I'd been a good child. I'd known right and wrong from the beginning.
A.D. also judged me fairly when I killed Ku. It determined the act was self-defense and therefore minimally bad. The manykills that followed, however, were judged more harshly. I had spent a long time hunting gods and killing them when they were vulnerable before I met Thor and learned the truth about the God War. After I met Thor, the machine's judgment shifted toward good.
I again disagreed with the machine's analysis. Yes, I'd done bad things, committing murder, but I'd done them believing I was protecting myself and humankind. In my opinion, that made a difference. The machine should have known that. I did not guide it as promised. I was waiting for the right moment to question it—when my question would cause the most damage. So, I remained silent and kept a mental tally.
It deemed my work with the God Squad mostly good. There were moments of evil, but generally, I did the right thing, according to A.D. It even judged Siff's death as self-defense. There were so many events for him to analyze, and it was hard to keep focused on my goal when my life was passing before my eyes. I'd forgotten so much.
The more A.D. saw of my life, the more invested it became. It was analyzing every action carefully, unlike the quick view it took of the lives of other souls. There was too much at stake for it to rush, but that slow, careful analysis worked against it. Like reading a good book or getting lost in a movie, diving deeply into my life forced the machine to experience it. It gasped when Anubis stabbed me, and growled when magic forced me to go to him. A.D. cringed and looked away from my repeated rapes, even shuddering. It went still when my grandfather passed, and sighed when I met Azrael in the middle of a plague.
Then came my sojourn to Faerie. Once more, things changed. The machine shuddered around me as it tried to judge my actions in three realms. I was bound to multiple men by then,and yet, I gave myself to Arach. But that was because he stole my memories. He hunted me and then seduced me. Arach confused the machine as much as he had confused me.
It was kind of nice to watch another consciousness react to my life with sympathy and indignation. Especially when that consciousness shouldn't be able to feel anything. I guess we all want to be seen.
“I am . . . unsure,” A.D. said. “You were the only hope for an entire fey race. But you made vows to the other men. You betrayed them, but did so unknowingly. Arach tricked you into sexual intercourse with him, but after you discovered his treachery, you forgave him. You understood why he acted as he had.” It looked at me. “You have a generous heart, and yet, you can be merciless against those who harm the ones you love. You are human, but also God. And now, Fey. How do I judge gods and faeries? Should I judge them by a different standard?”
“Should you?” I raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps it depends on what they believe? Should you judge people based on what they believe or on whatyoubelieve? What is morality in this situation? Was Arach a hero for doing everything he had to do to ensure the continuation of his race? Or was he a monster for abducting me and tricking me into sex? Was it rape or coercion? I went willingly to his bed, but only because he told me I belonged there. What percentage have you decided upon?”
Smoke trickled into the room. A high-pitched whirring came. A groan rocked the room. Through my connection to A.D., I felt something break. Fey magic swept through the room—the magic condenser. Within A.D.'s faltering certainty, the condenser found a chance to free itself. And once the condenser had disconnected, the god relics were released from their bond.They weren't separated from the machine, but still, they were no longer united.
That alone would cause the machine to malfunction, but it was focused on judging me, not incoming souls. For the moment, the realms were safe.
The machine was failing the challenge, and it didn't need me to tell it so. It was stalled by contradictions, by the inability to process things with the open mind of a living being. Frankly, even a living person would have a hard time analyzing my life. For A.D., with its reliance on hard facts and parameters, it had become an impossible task. Using my reactions, it had created a procedure to follow, like a checklist of what made something right or wrong. But judging a life takes more finesse. You need to be flexible. See things in more than black and white.
So focused on me was A.D. that it didn't notice the threat. The separated relics didn't register amid its whirling computations. It was too busy trying to figure out how to judge me. Sweet baby Jesus, did I just happen upon the way to destroy this machine? Not through physical means, but mental. I would confuse it to death! My plan shifted. Now, I had to add as much confusion as I could. Chaos, here we come.
“Did you notice that Faerie, the Consciousness of the Realm, guided me?” I added.
“What?” A.D.'s eyes were flickering again.
“Look deeper. Closer. I was drawn to Faerie for a reason. Two consciousness guided me. Alaric, the Consciousness of the Void and Faerie, the Consciousness of the Faerie Realm. Your maker may also have had a hand in my life. Do you judgemy actions as my own, or as those guided by powerful outside forces? And if I were not fully in control, am I responsible?”
