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Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 01

By: bradley_stoke





Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 02







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 02



"All I want to do," Paul said in a heartfelt voice, "is to make love to you."

And this, of course, they did.

None of the women to whom he'd made love in the real world was nearly as satisfying a lover as Blanche. None of them were as uninhibited. None were as responsive to his need for love nor so unconditional and unselfish in their giving of it. The software that governed Nudeworld had actually improved the experience of lovemaking to a level that the pleasure he got from it was more addictive, more satisfying and more easily available than he'd ever found in the real life equivalent.

Blanche took his penis—a somewhat more impressive version of his real one—and slipped it into her mouth. Her hands stroked testicles that were both hard and tender in equal measure. Her head bobbed up and down as she stimulated his penis towards an erection that strained the taut muscles of his stomach and was no doubt in the same state as his real penis in the comforting grip of the virtual portal.

When he smelled Blanche's skin or nibbled her nipples or chewed at her odorous vaginal lips, these were sensations that were more real than real, as the software was designed to be. She felt so solid, so actual, so very real that Paul's pleasure was marred only by the nagging knowledge that he could never wholly forget that Blanche was in truth nothing more than an avatar in a virtual world shared across the Solar System by many millions of people.

When their lovemaking eventually progressed to full-blown fucking, which as usual was after about ten minutes, this itself was a pleasure that exceeded anything in Paul's real life. His only regret was that he'd been so busy recently at the university in the throes of research that he'd neglected Nudeworld for so long. The strong odour of sex that assailed Paul's nostrils was so perfectly simulated that the real smell of sex seemed paltry in comparison.

Blanche was an energetic lover given to cries of ecstasy in response to Paul's relentless pounding and who didn't mind at all when, following the convention of virtual world sex, he followed vaginal sex with the anal variety and climaxed by ejaculating on her face and mouth. Very few women in real life enjoyed such a routine in their romantic conjugations, but here in virtual space there wasn't a single woman who didn't accept this as the fulfilling climax of a session of carnal pleasure.

"Now what shall we do?" asked Blanche with semen still dripping down and off her chin. "Do you want to make love again?"

In one sense Paul did, but he'd exerted himself so much that he wasn't sure his real life counterpart could cope with the strain. The feedback mechanism of the virtual portal ensured that his energy levels and vital requirements could never be neglected. In the first few centuries of virtual world simulations, there'd been many celebrated incidents of people who'd starved to death by remaining in the virtual world for longer than their biological functions could cope. Since then, the software developers had built mechanisms into cyberspace to ensure that the real people were kept fed and watered.

"I fancy a drink," said Paul. "Let's go to the pub."

There was no alcohol or drugs of any kind on Godwin. There was no law proscribing it, but like anything for which there was no perceived need there was also no corresponding supply. Here in Nudeworld, Paul could get drunk as often as he liked while knowing that there was no real life hangover to contend with and that his drunkenness would evaporate as soon as he disengaged himself from the world.

"Sounds like a good idea," said Blanche who very rarely disagreed with any of Paul's suggestions. These had in the past taken him and Blanche up in a space ship to the nearest adjacent settlement remarkably like the one they'd just left, up a tall mountain that they ascended by an archaic helicopter, and even by boat across an ocean that was a mere three kilometres away. Going to the pub was no big deal, even though the nearest equivalent in Godwin was a fruit juice bar half a kilometre from his home. Paul's real body would gain the same sustenance as his avatar, but while he appeared to be chewing on deep-fried chicken wings and hamburgers the real Paul would be chewing on rather more wholesome vegetables and fruit. While his avatar was sinking an unwholesome series of beers and vodkas, nothing alcoholic at all was being inflicted on his real-life liver.

The hundred metre walk to the Technician's Arms was a voyeur's paradise. None of the men, women or children that Paul and Blanche passed by wore any clothes. But for Paul the true oddness wasn't so much the nudity but the frozen-in-time representation of a capitalist world in what was presumably meant to be in Earth or Venus orbit. Above their heads was a rush of flying vehicles that transported people to destinations that could be more than a thousand kilometres away. There were shops with windows, although none of them were selling clothes.

In Godwin there were no shops, everyone was a pedestrian and there were no distances greater than a hundred kilometres.

Eventually, Paul and Blanche entered a pub whose doors opened to a dimly lit interior where several people were already drinking and where an androgynous android was serving drinks. Naturally, this android was naked like everyone else.

Or almost everyone else.

What startled Paul was that no one else seemed to notice this. Not even Blanche. There at the bar was sat a man who was nursing a glass of whiskey from which he took the occasional sip. This in itself was no matter of concern, but this man was fully clothed. He was dressed, in fact, in a very realistic facsimile of a twenty-second century suit, even down to the neck scarf and thick cotton trousers.

What was more startling still was that this man seemed to be old. Old people were everywhere in the 33rd century, just as much as in the 38th but they never looked old. And this man had definitely aged. He had grey hair and a lined face which framed a peculiarly wise and serene expression.

In all his life, Paul had never seen, either in the real or virtual world, anyone who looked to be more than a biological age of about twenty-nine. And this man's apparent biological age must have been at least sixty.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 03







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 03



Paul rather expected Colonel Vashti to escort him and Beatrice back to the outermost level, but it was actually a Saturnian corporal who had that honour. He had painted nails and thick lipstick and was rather more amiable towards Paul than he was comfortable with. Saturnians were famous throughout the Solar System for their sexual predilections, but Paul had never contemplated anything other than a heterosexual lifestyle.

"So, what do you think?" Captain Kerensky asked the colonel when they were alone.

"Probably much the same as you," Colonel Vashti admitted.

The captain sighed. She was genuinely concerned about the welfare of the people in her care. Whatever dangers she and her ship were to encounter she'd be happier if she had a better idea of what they might be.

"Paul's wife is an entrancing woman," she continued. "He's a very lucky man. She doesn't seem like the sort of person I'd imagine would come from Godwin. What do you know about her?"

"Very little," admitted the colonel. "She seems harmless enough. If she wasn't married to the Godwinian and if he wasn't considered vital to the mission, I doubt very much that she'd be on this ship."

"Is it true that she was once a prostitute on Ecstasy?"

"The records are very sketchy on exactly what her profession used to be. All we know for sure is that she used to live there. And if there's anywhere in the Solar System whose records are less than adequate, it would be Ecstasy."

"Indeed!"

The two paused, but there was a tangible excitement in Captain Kerensky's breath. Her gaze embraced Colonel Vashti from her crotch to her bosom.

"Shall we retire to my quarters?" she said at last.

"Gladly."

It was a short walk down the corridor to Captain Kerensky's palatial suite. When the ship was built such a space would have seemed appropriate for a captain, but Nadezhda Kerensky was sufficiently imbued with the egalitarian ideals of her culture to find it rather overblown.

As soon as the door closed on the two women, they stumbled into the captain's bedroom. They pulled off one another's clothes with passion in every faltering step, their lips pressed together and their hands around each other in the rising heat of mutual passion.

"I'm still not sure about this!" exclaimed Captain Kerensky as she pulled down her underwear to reveal a crotch as shaven as her head.

"I don't see why not. You've been married many times before."

"And divorced as often. Married life and being captain of a space ship in the Kuiper Belt don't mix very well. But it's the sex that bothers me."

"Because we're both officers?"

"Where else can I find passion? My ex-wives were all I really needed, but none of them could stand the loneliness of such long separation."

"So what is the problem?" asked the colonel as she revealed her own shaven crotch.

"This is!" said the captain. "It's not something I've ever known so well before."

Captain Kerensky held up the colonel's fully erect penis by the testicles in the cup of her hands.

"This was just not what I ever expected from the woman I love!" she exclaimed, but nonetheless licked her lips in anticipation from the pleasure it would give her.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 04







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 04



"Was it Chinese? German? I just don't know," asked Paul when he at last got to meet the Chief Security Advisor in the Dean's office.

"It was Arabic," said the Chief Security Advisor. "You're clearly not a linguist, are you?"

"So, what did she say?"

"Allah u Akhbar!" said the Advisor, consulting his holographic notes. "It means 'God is great'. It's some kind of incantation used by the Muslim religion."

"I didn't know that Muslims were in the habit of killing themselves," said Paul. "Isn't it meant to be a fairly peaceful religion?"

"It is," said the Dean who was sitting cross-legged on his desk. "Though there have been periods in its history when its adherents practised a kind of suicide terrorism. Most significantly in the 21st century. But even in those distant days, it wasn't widely practised."

"But why blow up my laboratory?" wondered Paul.

"We rather hoped you might explain that to us," said the Dean.

Paul wasn't really able to help either the Dean or anyone else in the long series of interrogations he underwent for the rest of the day and, as it happened, sporadically for many days and even weeks afterwards. He was as ignorant as anyone as to why his laboratory should be targeted. He didn't experiment on live animals. His work was in no way disparaging of any religion, culture or ideology. He didn't belong to a clandestine organisation and, as far as he knew, he had no quarrels with anyone.

"We believe you," said a representative from the Special Operations division. His syndicate managed all external threats and these usually only extended to rogue meteorites and accidentally introduced microbes. "But it does seem strange. Your work appears to have excited a lot of interest from outside the colony. It is mostly theoretical research, isn't it?"

"Well, nothing I've done has ever excited anyone's interest before," admitted Paul. "I'd always considered my research was of more historical relevance than being especially pertinent for the 38th Century."

"Well, you've done precious little research on any period after the 26th century, that's for sure," agreed the Special Operations Officer. "You're sure you don't recognise the poor misguided woman who killed herself?"

"I'm not aware of ever having met her."

"Not in your extracurricular activity? No online interaction? No virtual dating? Nothing that might explain a grudge she might have against you or your research?"

"Nothing at all."

"Fatima O'Leary she was called. Does the name mean anything to you?"

Paul shook his head. "I'm sure I'd remember a name like that."

"She wasn't christened Fatima. She was originally known as Esmeralda. She converted to Islam a couple of decades ago. The evidence we've gained is that she had a crisis of faith and has been in frequent communication with Islamic cells from other colonies. The one she had most contact with is the Muslim Sisterhood of New Mecca. That's a colony in the Asteroid belt which despite its name is actually rather secular and where only a minority are accounted to have a religious faith of any kind. Of course, when it was founded fifteen hundred years ago that was a different matter, but Islam, like all religions, has become increasingly inconsequential over the centuries. You've never shown any interest in religion, have you? Not that there's anything wrong with that, if you have."

"Religion. Politics. Nothing like that has ever interested me at all."

"That's what we thought," admitted the officer. "But I had to ask."

"So, do you have any idea why Fatima killed herself?"

"I'm afraid we don't have any concrete theories at all," said the officer. "The most likely is that she, or rather her contacts in New Mecca, took exception to some aspect of your research. Naturally, the strict rules in Godwin on privacy and personal freedom means that we don't have any real evidence of what that might be, but the rather less fastidious intelligence agencies on New Mecca will no doubt uncover rather more than we can. What we do know is that her communications with the colony involved the use of massively secure encryption protocols that consumed a disproportionate amount of computing power."

"It does sound very mysterious."

"Well, I must express some sympathy to you and for your research. It must be totally lost now. Everything in your laboratory was incinerated."

"Not at all," said Paul, holding up a data crystal. "I kept a copy of all the data."

"You can't have all of it in just one data crystal," said the officer. "Those things barely hold even an exabyte of data."

"There wasn't that much data around in the early years of the Solar System. In fact all the data that existed on the internet, as it was called in the 21st century, was rather less than what's required to render a single moment in virtual space. I have other copies of the data stored in off-colony repositories throughout the solar system."

"Not very secure, is it?" remarked the officer. "Anyone could get hold of it."

"But that's the idea of my kind of research," said Paul. "It's not meant to be secret. It's publicly available and accessible to anyone who's got an interest in it."

"Hmm!" said the officer with a frown. "I'm afraid that while our investigations continue that is one state of affairs that won't be allowed to continue."



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 05







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 05



"Yes sir. You can rely on me."

"Good," said the general. "Your preparations for duty begin immediately. You will leave the Mariner Federation tomorrow and you must not tell anyone where you are going or that you are leaving at all. You will be detailed to go on a routine patrol rather like the one you went on today. The difference is that you, and the other soldiers on your detail, will not return. The story that will accompany your disappearance will be that you were lost in action and presumed dead. You do understand, colonel? You must tell no one, including your lover, Mia Nkome," the general made a show of consulting the holographic display at his elbow, "that you are doing anything at all out of the ordinary. I don't need to emphasise, I'm sure, how much we expect your total discretion."

"Not at all, sir."

"You will be taken to an off-planet centre where you will serve under the direct command of the Interplanetary Union. This is international territory where the state of war between the Mariner Federation and the Polar Republics is not effective. Normal hostilities will cease, although you know and I know, of course, that your highest duty will still be to preserve the hard-won way of life of the Federation. Do you have any questions, colonel?"

"None, sir. I shall serve the Interplanetary Union and the Mariner Federation to the best of my abilities and remember always to whom I owe first allegiance."

"Well said, soldier," said the general, allowing a smile to crack across his inscrutable face. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," said Colonel Vashti. She saluted his senior officer and turned about to leave his office.

At last, Vashti thought to herself, as the door slid behind her. Now her real mission in the Solar System could begin in earnest!



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 06







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 06



"I'm very well, thank you," answered Paul who was actually rather pleased to see his elderly friend. There wasn't really anyone else, either in the real world or Nudeworld, with whom he could enjoy such intelligent and wide-ranging conversation. 

"And that's despite all the incidents that have been troubling you?" remarked the gentleman referring to Paul's earlier conversations. Indeed, it was because of a long, rather intense conversation with Virgil that he'd been detained in the cocoon of cyberspace when his house was in the process of being demolished by malfunctioning nanobots. Had he disengaged from Nudeworld sooner then he might no longer be alive.

"I'm not going to be on Godwin for much longer," confessed Paul, who'd already forgotten his instructions not to speak to anyone of the plans that had been made for him. "I'm going to be heading into deep space."

"And why's that?" asked the gentleman. "Does your research involve foreign travel?"

"Not until now," admitted Paul as Virgil sat down next to him. He was offered a glass of wine that his companion held out to him in a gnarled hand. "It seems that the Anomaly I've been researching has reappeared."

"Has it now?" said the gentleman with a sympathetic smile. "And where might that be?"

"The same place, I think," said Paul. "Just beyond the Heliopause."

"That is a strange place for anything to be! Does anyone in the thirty-eighth century have a better idea than the scientists in the twenty-second century had of what it might be?"

"All they have is a better idea of what it isn't," admitted Paul.

The two men, one naked and the other fully dressed, sat silently in the shelter of a huge eucalyptus tree while sheep wandered by, far more interested in grazing than in the people resting in their midst.

"Do you think this Anomaly is restricted only to the real world?" the gentleman asked. "Could it ever appear in a virtual world like Nudeworld?"

This was a thought that had never occurred to Paul. "I don't see how," he replied. "Unless, of course, it infects the servers that house the virtual world. But it's so far away from anything else that I don't see how that's possible."

"So, it's very definitely a thing of the material world," said the gentleman. "Is it composed of real matter and energy?"

"Whatever it is, I don't see how it can't be," said Paul. 

The gentleman paused, as if in deep thought. "So as long as you or anyone else is in virtual space you're safe from whatever evils associated with the Anomaly as long as the servers generating the virtual universes remain secure?"

"I guess so," said Paul. "But I wasn't aware the Anomaly could ever cause harm. Nobody knows what it is, but that doesn't necessarily make it a bad thing."

"Do you have an opinion on what the Anomaly is, Paul?"

Paul wasn't a man given to theorising. He was far more interested in the how of things rather than the why. He could think of no answer to Virgil's question.

"You don't think it's an alien intelligence, do you?" continued his companion. "Do you think it's supernatural? Like a spirit or the manifestation of God or something like that? Do you think, for instance, that it's an incursion from another parallel universe?"

"I really don't know," said Paul at last. "But whatever it is, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"I'm sure that's true," Virgil agreed.

When Paul finally left the park and returned to the night club, where Blanche was waiting for him as if he'd not been away at all, he briefly contemplated whether he'd been wise to be so frank to the elderly gentleman about his forthcoming role in the mission to the Anomaly. Hadn't Special Officer Fitzwilliam been adamant that Paul shouldn't talk about it to anyone? After all, the avatars in Nudeworld very often represented real people. 

However, Paul dismissed his worries. If Virgil was the avatar of a real person, how could that person possibly know that the Paul he encountered in Nudeworld was the same Paul who lived and worked as a researcher in Godwin? 



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 07







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 07



Chief Inspector Isaiah followed the High Pastor's words with: "Amen!"

"Amen," chorused Isaac and the other inspectors.

"Unfortunately it is not within the means of the considerable wealth of the Baptist Ecumenical Council—it is not even within the means of the Emergency Coalition of Religious Councils—to navigate a space ship such an immense distance to where this Apostasy is known to be. The Lord has seen fit to make the Solar System, which He created for Man, so immense that a space ship able to voyage so far from the ecliptic plane would cost for its construction more than the entire wealth of all but the very wealthiest nations in the Solar System: nations which are the very ones under the sway of the Antichrist. The Interplanetary Union does have the means. Our spies within its headquarters in the Pacific Ocean on Earth have told us reliably that it will command a space ship to voyage to this distant point in space, no doubt so that the Antichrist can meet his mentor in person. We even know which space ship will be commandeered for their mission. It is our duty, as detailed in Holy Scripture, to thwart this evil mission, so that the prophecies of the Second Coming can be fulfilled and that we shall all be lifted upwards to Heaven."

The High Pastor paused again and then followed with another quotation from Revelations Chapter Twenty-two. "And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever. And he said unto me, These sayings are faithful and true: and the Lord God of the holy prophets sent his angel to shew unto his servants the things which must shortly be done. Behold, I come quickly: blessed is he that keepeth the sayings of the prophecy of this book."

"Amen," chorused the Soldiers of Christ.

"Your mission, gentlemen," said the High Pastor, "is therefore of the highest imaginable importance. The future of all the souls in Holy Trinity is in your hands. It is you who shall ensure that the Second Coming will proceed as prophesied and that we shall all rest in Heaven. For ever and ever, Amen."

"Amen."

"You will be taken to a secret location in the Jovian Asteroid Belt where the Sun's blessed rays are weak and where the planet Jupiter's magnetosphere is the most dominant force. You will be briefed there for the mission that is ahead of you. In this place you will meet other true believers, but also heretics, pagans and idolaters. You will be obliged to work with, even take orders from, people who in Holy Trinity would be stoned or burnt at the stake. This will cause you to suffer much indignation, but it is a test of your faith that in this hour of Great Necessity that you disguise your righteous anger and disgust. On the other hand, should any one of you be tempted from the True Faith to the ways of the demons that these people worship, it is incumbent on all those of uncorrupted faith to mete on you the punishment that would be due to such a renegade within the confines of Holy Trinity. I trust this is understood?"

"Yes, sir," replied the three inspectors.

"You will be accompanied, of course, by Holy Inquisitors who will ensure that any such deviancy is identified and dealt with according to the laws enshrined in the Gospel. Recall the Lord's words in Chapter Twenty-four Verse Twenty of the Book of Joshua: "If ye forsake the LORD, and serve strange gods, then he will turn and do you hurt, and consume you, after that he hath done you good."

"Amen."

"Your mission is highly classified but I am permitted to tell you of its broadest particulars. You will be transported from a base in the Jovian Asteroid Belt by a fleet of space craft belonging to the Baptist Ecumenical Council, the New Muslim Brotherhood, the Temple of Vishnu, the Tanakh Communion, the Triton Orthodoxy, and other religious fellowships. The Coalition fleet will take you to the furthest reaches to which such space craft are capable of flying. There will be no return journey and there will not, in any case, be enough fuel in these craft to make such a return. The fleet will intercept the space ship that is in the command of the Interplanetary Union. You will capture this space ship and travel in it until it reaches its destination at the perimeter of the Apostasy. You will then eliminate the Apostasy with the antimatter and nuclear fusion warheads at your disposal. Your reward will be that you shall then be transported by the Angels of Christ to a Life Everlasting. Is all this understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"The only vehicle that the Interplanetary Union is likely to bring to service is the Space Ship Intrepid. It is an ancient vessel built centuries before Holy Trinity was founded. In fact, it existed before even the time that our congregation departed from the Baptist Colony of the Divine Revelation when it was sinfully tempted by the heresies of the Interplanetary Union. It should not, therefore, be too difficult for a fleet armed with the most modern and lethal weapons that science has devised—and easily purchased at the Arms Fairs in Mars orbit—to overpower the craft and use it for the Divine Purpose for which we know is its true destiny."

"Amen," said Isaac and his fellow officers in complete accord.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 08



Chapter Eight Ecstasy - 3750 C.E. 

The flight from Godwin to the colony of Ecstasy in Neptune orbit marked the first time that Paul had ever left the comforts of his cylindrical world. And this first stage of his journey to Earth alone would take over three months. Although such a voyage was something he'd always dreamed of, it really wasn't especially enjoyable. The lengthy and incapacitating process of the skeletal refit prescribed by his doctor confined him to his room for the first half of the flight and the recovery from the operation debilitated him for almost all the remainder.

So, although here he was heading closer to the Sun than he'd ever done before, Paul had to spend most of his time in a cabin surrounded by surgical instruments where his only company were the space ship's doctor and his robotic nurses.

"It's a fairly routine procedure," the doctor told him. "And seeing as this is your third time, you must know exactly what to expect. You'll also undergo a renal regeneration and some minor cuticle enhancement. I'm afraid this won't be a pleasure cruise for you."

Paul nodded, although he was aware that for the majority of passengers on the luxury space cruiser that was exactly what they had every right to expect. However, he couldn't even visit his favourite virtual world and he soon got bored of what on-board entertainment was available to someone who was horizontal on his back. The price he had to pay for a long and youthful life!

"Why a luxury cruiser?" he asked the Dean of his university when his passage was booked.

"There are few enough vessels that pass by our colony," said the Dean. "This one travels to several other colonies and so you should expect fairly mixed company."

"But why should a luxury cruiser to Ecstasy bother to stop here? It's not as if we use money in the Godwin colony, so there's nothing any of us can buy there."

"It's true that ours isn't a colony troubled by the financial commerce that corrupts most of the solar system, but although there is no need and certainly no way to spend money here there are some citizens such as artists, musicians, mathematicians and the like who've gained wealth by selling products beyond the colony. For many of them the colony of Ecstasy is the ideal place to go and spend the proceeds of this commerce."

Ecstasy's reputation as one of the best holiday destinations in the Outer Solar System was mostly earned by its reputation of providing visitors with the many illicit pleasures that were either rather less freely available in the Kuiper Belt or, as in Godwin, absent altogether. Paul was actually looking forward to visiting a settlement where sexual pleasure was widely available and where he could indulge in the vices of alcohol, marijuana, MDMA and other drugs which he'd only ever known from their virtual simulation. However, as he lay on his bed in a room rather smaller than his bedroom on Godwin, he wasn't sure he'd have the energy to take advantage of what Ecstasy promised for him. And when he was well enough to get out of bed, his treatment demanded so much physical exertion on the exercise machines that his regenerated strength was soon drained from him.

The few days Paul was able to wander about the Space Ship Byzantium were wholly unsatisfactory. He didn't know any of the other passengers because he'd missed the opportunity to make friends and acquaintances by virtue of being bedbound. In any case, his utilitarian Godwinian garb looked totally out of place compared to the often extravagant outfits worn by many other passengers. It would have been difficult enough for any of Godwin's citizens to merge in with the space ship's hedonistic passengers, but Paul was socially inept by even the low standards of his own society.

There were few things available for the naïve space tourist on the space ship other than roam the long corridors or admire the art collections or sit in an audience to watch some incomprehensible cabaret entertainment. The only thing that held any fascination to a man whose previous ventures into space had been no further than a day-trip around the Godwin colony was to visit one of the watch-towers that protruded at hundred metre intervals along the space ship's five kilometre length.

As Paul soon discovered, these transparent domes provided very little distraction for the space tourist. The boring fact that Paul had already learnt on his few excursions away from Godwin was that deep space really did mostly consist of absolutely nothing. There was a distant Kuiper Belt Object around which the colony circled but although the potato-shaped object's mass was greater than that of its satellite, its diameter of ten kilometres was actually less than the colony's length. The asteroid's only use was to serve as an emergency supply of water should there ever be a need for it in a community designed to be as self-sufficient as possible.

The acceleration and associated deceleration of the space ship was sufficiently great that it applied a force on the floor of its external domes either in or against the direction of the ship's motion that was roughly the equivalent to that exerted by a small planetoid like Pluto or Orcus. As Paul had never visited such places and wasn't intending ever to do so, this was the nearest to low gravity he'd so far experienced. The view from the Byzantium's domes was actually less rather than more interesting than the view from outside Godwin where he'd at least had the opportunity to appreciate the true shape of the world in which he lived. All the view from here confirmed was what he already knew. And this was that the space ship was an awfully long way from anywhere else. That included the Sun which was still not much more than just the brightest star in the sky.

The space ship had several stops on its journey, although they weren't exactly stops in the sense that the space ship came to a dead halt. That would require a huge and costly expenditure in energy. In fact, large space vehicles very rarely ever came to a halt anywhere during their working life. The nearest equivalent was to orbit around a satellite and, only then, at a very safe distance.

Paul had missed most of these stops as he was still recovering from the agony of his regenerative treatment, but there was one last such before the Byzantium settled into orbit around the Ecstasy colony. Disappointingly, this was at one of the many refuelling depots scattered about the Kuiper Belt whose existence was entirely dependent on the presence of space ships like the Byzantium. This wasn't going to be as exciting or interesting as the brief sling-shot orbit around the Quaoar planetoid or the wealthy colony of the Krishna Republic. All that would happen was that the space ship would slow down as it passed through the huge hole inside the doughnut ring of a colony that housed barely ten thousand people. This was somewhat less than Godwin's population of a million or the much more extensive Krishna Republic's ten million.

It was all over in the blink of an eye and in any case could only be seen from holo-screens inside the ship. It was far too risky to extend the viewing towers when the ship was performing manoeuvres. There was no sensation inside the ship's cylindrical decks to indicate that the space ship had changed its speed or direction, so it was a disappointment from even that perspective. All that happened was that the refuelling depot delivered fresh oxygen, water and food, while the space ship reciprocated by delivering a small proportion of the interplanetary post that was its most commercially viable payload. Although this exercise was a wonder of coordination at high speed, it was over so fast that Paul saw nothing much at all.

Nevertheless, this was Paul's first ever sight of a space community other than the anarchosyndicalist Godwin colony. He'd only ever visited virtual representations of such places. The real thing was both less well rendered but, given the vastness of space, more impressive than the computer-generated colonies he'd visited in virtual space.

The Byzantium finally reached its final orbit around the colony of Ecstasy where it would circle for a full month before carrying its passengers back home to their homes elsewhere in the Kuiper Belt. Paul boarded a shuttle that took him and several thousand others to the colony. He would also be there for only a month or so, until another space ship was scheduled to carry him deeper within the Solar System.

A brightly lit road stretched ahead of Paul when he exited the spaceport where he'd disembarked. It was Ecstasy Avenue, which to Paul was both totally new and totally familiar. It was new, because he'd never before been in a road in an immense congested city that was so wide, so long and on either side shadowed by buildings several hundred metres high. It was also familiar because, in one virtual rendition or another, Paul had often visited simulations of Ecstasy and its most famous pleasure boulevards.

Ecstasy was the most ancient colony this far out in the solar system. It had been built on an earlier design for human colonies where the emphasis was rather less on building a sustainable ecosystem than on cramming as many million people as was possible into the confines of a space colony. And sustainable the colony most certainly had never been. Its continued survival relied heavily on machinery to manufacture its atmosphere and biosphere. As this was very quickly consumed, the colony depended on regular replenishment from the smaller satellites of Neptune and even from the noxious chemicals extracted from the gas giant's atmosphere.

There was a hubbub of human activity along Ecstasy Avenue as tourists gazed in awe at the tall buildings and the riches on display in the many shop windows. Scattered along the dimly lit road were garish holographic lights that promoted sex shops, virtual sex emporiums and brothels. This was a colony that promised all those sinful pursuits that Paul, like many men, had secretly fantasised about and which in the Outer Solar System were generally either absent altogether, as in Godwin, or existed only in carefully controlled areas. Here almost every imaginable vice was freely available. Or free in the sense that there was no restriction on its access, but certainly not so in a monetary sense.

The Interplanetary Union granted Paul a reasonably generous budget, but his credit wasn't unlimited. Nevertheless, even the concept of credit was alien to Paul, who now for the first time in his life had the opportunity to spend it.

Paul's main concern as he travelled to his modest hotel on the upper levels of one of the colossal buildings was the bag handcuffed to his wrist in which he carried the precious data crystals that mostly justified his journey. Before he even saw the room where he'd be staying for the next month or so, he had to take his bag to a secure safe that was encased in strong nano-carbon walls that only a nuclear device could shatter. The security that accompanied the deposit of his precious bag was well beyond that available on Godwin, which had no tradition of keeping secrets or guarding property.

"I don't know what's in your bag," the hotel manager remarked as he escorted Paul to his room, "but it must be worth an absolute fortune. This is the strongest and more secure hold on the entire colony and normally stores irreplaceable works of art and rare fossils. We even had an Australopithecus skull here once!"

For his first few days on Ecstasy Paul made a point of visiting all the tourist sites. These were mostly famous because many were nearly a thousand years old and were relics from an earlier age in human history when even having a permanent settlement so far out in the Solar System was considered achievement enough. The founders of Ecstasy had high hopes for their new settlement, which they didn't call by its modern name but by the far grander appellation of the Foundation. It was the first foothold in a grandiose scheme to extend human colonisation well beyond the Solar System and towards the distant stars. Much effort had been expended on gigantic statuary, colossal palaces, awe-inspiring monuments and paradisial pleasure gardens. This was all with the objective of stressing mankind's achievement in having now reached a triumphal apex which it fully expected to exceed.

Sadly, all these high hopes came to an anticlimactic end less than two centuries after the colony was founded when the delicate ecosystem collapsed catastrophically with the associated demise of tens of millions of colonists. Eventually the colony had to be abandoned altogether. For most of the colony's subsequent thousand-year existence it was a lifeless shell with no working atmosphere and no working machines. The colony's future existence was in doubt as a consequence of the dramatic decay that resulted when the temperature dropped to only a few Kelvins above absolute zero. Its salvation came only two centuries ago when the colony was bought up by a consortium of wealthy individuals and transformed from a lifeless museum to the Outer Solar System's most celebrated pleasure resort. Now, after governments had risen and fallen and the nature of space colonisation had changed beyond recognition from those earlier profligate days, it was now more a quaint reminder of an earlier optimistic age than the foundation of an interstellar empire.

Although it had always been Paul's ambition to see for real the architecture and art of the 27th century, he also nursed a lesser ambition. And this was to experience Ecstasy's many illicit pleasures. His credit ratings, although phenomenal by Godwinian standards, were just not sufficient for him to sample more than a modest selection of the pleasures around him. He tasted alcohol and the many other drugs on offer. And in the progress he discovered what he'd never before properly understood which was the toll such substance abuse could inflict on his body. Every morning, he felt as bad as he ever had when he underwent a skeletal refit. Although he countered it with medicinal relief, there was no doubt that his days of Epicureanism would most likely result in rather more future neuronal regeneration than he'd anticipated. Unlike the virtual hallucinations he'd experienced in Nudeworld, real drug-induced mental psychosis was frightening, disorientating and not something that could be switched off by just a single command.

He also sampled prostitution: a practise that made no sense on Godwin where no human could ever be viewed as a commodity to be bought or sold. Here on Ecstasy there were many men and women from those parts of the Solar System where people still relied on the fruits of their labour to survive and who chose to make a living by selling their bodies for other people's sexual satisfaction.

Paul soon also discovered that he was not a man who could reliably rise to every opportunity.

"Don't worry," said Candy, the blue-skinned woman whose service he'd purchased. She had eyes twice the size than could ever be natural and a bosom that was several times larger than her head. "Not everyone can be a stud!"

Paul resolved to see what drugs or non-invasive treatment might be available that could correct his libidinal problems, but after an hour of fruitless search on Ecstasy's computer systems he wasn't sure that it was a medical issue that could ever be satisfactorily addressed.

It was with the all too recent memories of his sexual shortcomings that he wandered into the bar on the 12th level in which he was to meet his future wife, Beatrice.

He wasn't seeking a sexual partner. He'd sworn to repeat this experiment only much later when enough time had elapsed for the humiliation and shame of his carnal ineptitude to be forgotten or in some way corrected. What he really wanted was the blessed relief afforded by a full glass of that peculiar alcoholic concoction known as beer and the opportunity to sit in a kind of anonymity in a busy place. It was inevitable that sex was on offer. The bar's ambience promised as much. A naked woman was dancing under strobe lights on a bare stage. Paul had already got so jaded by the sight of nudity that he didn't even raise his gaze towards the podium. Naked bodies were so common on Ecstasy. He was wondering rather whether after his several months of absence, he should once again revisit Nudeworld. He also wondered how different it might be now he was so much closer to the virtual universe's host servers.

He almost didn't look up when a woman sat down in the bar stool next to him. The fact that she was unclothed was no longer an unusual sight, but he did think that with so many other empty bar stools it was an unnecessary invasion of his space. He wondered whether he should ask for another drink or venture again into the crowded street outside. This bar, unlike those in Nudeworld, was staffed not by an attractive nude barmaid but by a functional serving robot that automatically identified Paul's credit account just by looking at him.

"Haven't I seen you before?" the woman asked.

Paul turned his head and for the first time properly appraised the naked figure beside him. She wouldn't look out of place in Nudeworld, although she was probably actually even more perfect than the denizens of that carefully rendered world. Her bosom was larger than the human average, which was quite normal in Paul's favourite virtual universe, and her figure was a pleasing but not over-exaggerated hourglass. Her face had the smoothness of a child's but her lips were fuller, her eyes larger and her facial expression altogether more fascinating. Her smile was broad and welcoming, and she was nowhere near as threatening as the blue-skinned prostitute.

"I don't think so," Paul replied. He was too naïve to recognise the question as a standard chat-up line. "I'm a tourist. I've never visited this quarter of Ecstasy before."

"You're from Godwin, aren't you?" the woman asked, with a delighted chuckle. "I can tell from the accent and, of course, your clothes. You don't see many people from that colony here? What brings you to Neptune orbit?"

Paul had to be careful here. He was under strict instructions, which were reiterated on many occasions, to give no hint to anyone, even close friends, as to the true nature of his journey. "I'm on my way to Earth," he replied, keeping as much to the truth as he thought advisable. "There are no direct flights from Godwin to Earth, so I'm travelling on a series of space ships. I'm waiting for the next flight to Saturn orbit."

"So, you're not here for... for what Ecstasy offers?"

"Not really," said Paul. "It's all very odd to me. We don't have bars or brothels or floor shows or drugs or any of those things on Godwin."

"So, I've heard," said the woman. "Godwin is a very peculiar kind of place. But fascinating too. No government. No taxes. No money. How do you manage?"

"Very easily," said Paul. "We have everything we need and what we don't need we simply can't have. A huge proportion of most colonies' economy is dedicated to commerce and trade. Once you subtract those non-essential activities then people are free to do what they want as long as it doesn't harm anyone else and as long as they are willing to do what's necessary to keep the colony going."

"No shops. No money. No crime, I suppose. It sounds wonderful! Why can't all colonies be like that?" said the woman. "By the way, my name's Beatrice. What's yours?"

Paul told her and, drawn in by Beatrice's enthusiasm, he was soon entertaining her with an account of what life was like in Godwin. At least, he hoped his account was entertaining, though he did have a tendency to go on rather too much on topics of mostly academic interest. His monologue was soon wandering towards the rather less fascinating features of Godwinian life, such as the structure of the anarchist syndicates, the way in which society was regulated without the need for a legal system, and the difficulty of finding representatives to serve international bodies when the colony had no government or state apparatus. During all this Beatrice continued to smile and ask pertinent questions that showed an astonishing degree of attention.




Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 08



"So, what is it you do, Paul?" she asked, when he'd finally exhausted the topic of how scientific research was funded in a society that had no grants or government funding. "I take it you work in a university?"

"Well, yes," Paul admitted. "I do research into historical data. I'm a kind of archaeologist, but I use my knowledge of obsolete operating systems and ancient software tools to make sense of vast amounts of data."

"What's the value of all that?"

"It's hugely valuable," Paul answered. He was warming to his subject but he was also anxious whether the discretion he was strongly advised to maintain might be compromised by a combination of alcohol and the presence of a beautiful naked woman. "A lot of data was collected in the past for quite different purposes than for the information we can get out of it now. For instance, in the twentieth century the first real evidence for global warming came from records kept by priests for quite different purposes than to provide a long-term record of climate change. Similarly, an analysis of literature can tell you a great deal about eating habits and recreation. There was a time when people spent something like three or four hours a day watching cathode ray tubes in darkened rooms. It was something called television. Because the habit was so prevalent, no one maintained detailed statistics of its impact."

Beatrice seemed no less fascinated by Paul's account of his profession than she was about Godwin's political and social structure. The questions she asked were evidence of a sharp informed mind. She was someone who knew a great deal about many different things and could readily grasp some rather difficult concepts. But in all this conversation, which soon stretched beyond one measure of beer to several of them and wound through many of his almost random range of academic interests, Paul learnt very little about the naked woman seated beside him.

Despite this, Paul's interest in her increased at the same rate at which he consumed alcohol and the degree to which he could expound his encyclopaedic knowledge of the abstract and abstruse. He wasn't a man who could observe a flower without considering the biological function of its intricate petals and how it photosynthesised. He was more taken by a landscape's geomorphic features than its aesthetic beauty. He enjoyed music more as a functional backdrop than a thing imbued with its own virtues. And even now he found comfort as he observed Beatrice's beautifully formed body by analysing her physical beauty rather than merely admiring it. But admire it he did, and as the alcohol clouded his analytical tendencies, he found increasing pleasure in doing so.

"We can go back to my apartment, if you like," Beatrice suggested at a time in the evening which in retrospect seemed peculiarly well chosen. It was before Paul's new taste in alcohol defeated his ability to handle it, but after it had lessened his reservations.

"Yes," said Paul, before he had the chance to analyse what his response should be and what this invitation might entail. "Yes, that would be very nice. Very (hic!) nice, indeed."

It was only once they were out in the broad street, above which was the constant whoosh of passing sky taxis, that Paul at last asked Beatrice any questions.

"You're not a prostitute, are you?" he asked, mindful of his restricted credit rating.

"No, not at all!" Beatrice laughed, though she didn't seem at all offended. "I live near here. Just over there, in fact," she said pointing up at a tall building. "It's due to rain in about ten minutes, but we should get there before the downpour."

"Is it that time already?" wondered Paul, who'd been told about Ecstasy's twice-daily precipitation cycle.

"I'm afraid so," Beatrice said with a smile. "It's well after midnight."

The escalator to Beatrice's apartment was somewhat less well appointed than that in Paul's hotel, but it was still spacious with thickly upholstered seats for them to make the journey up to the 120th floor with no discomfort. Paul then followed her along a corridor much like that in his hotel. Paul's mind wandered to the thought that this tall building very nearly touched the level's ceiling above which was another level that was much the same, only smaller as it occupied a position closer to the colony's hub. He missed the high skies of his rather more modern colony where space was extended without the need to cram millions of people together.

"Here we are!" announced Beatrice after several hundred metres stroll along the wide corridor. She stopped by a door that was exactly like all the others they'd passed and just a few metres from a water fountain. "It's not much, but it's all I can afford!"

"Afford?" wondered Paul, who still had difficulties comprehending an economy that was tied so closely to financial transactions. "What do you do for a living?"

"Oh! This and that," said Beatrice carelessly as the door recognised her and slid open to let the couple enter.

Compared to Paul's hotel suite, Beatrice's apartment was very modest indeed. There was an ante-room, a living room and a bedroom, whilst a bathroom and kitchen were discreetly hidden by sliding doors off a short adjoining hallway. But it was straight to the bedroom that Beatrice took Paul. Already there was an understanding that they should have sex together although there'd been no physical contact at all between the two on the walk to the apartment.

With one of the couple already naked it was entirely up to Paul to dictate the speed of the proceedings, although Beatrice assisted him by undoing his simple utilitarian loose clothes whilst lovingly peppering his torso and upper thighs with kisses. It was only when the two of them were stretched out now both naked on her huge mattress that Paul could truly appreciate Beatrice's beauty.

Her bosom was large but her nipples were so exactly proportioned that it seemed wholly natural. Her pubic hairs were shaved and there was no stubble to hint at a recent shave or indeed that she'd ever had to shave. Her long blonde hair cascaded onto the silk sheets. But it was her face that made Beatrice so entirely desirable and which awakened Paul's penis from its native torpidity. Even his companion in long-neglected Nudeworld, Blanche, didn't exhibit so much desire and excitement.

Their lovemaking was the most passionate of Paul's life so far. None of the real women he'd made love to and not even his virtual lovers were as responsive as Beatrice. The sex was urgent, carnal, sweaty and exhausting, but this time Paul rose to the occasion. His recent woes with the blue-skinned sex worker were now banished from his mind. He fucked with pure abandon. His thrusts were answered by Beatrice's thrusts. The sheets were soon a sodden mess from their shared perspiration and yet, even after ejaculating many times, Paul still felt the need to plunge once more into that inviting hole that accepted him whenever and however he felt inclined.

Their lovemaking was not incessant. Although Paul appreciated the new suppleness of his body that resulted from his recent skeletal refit, he was by no means equal to Beatrice's inexhaustible sexual appetite. During those pauses, they slumped on their backs beneath a holographic display of cloudy skies and swooping sea-birds. Paul speculated on the relationship between 27th century aesthetics and modern needs, while Beatrice mused rather more lyrically on the beauty and pleasures of the ancient colony of Ecstasy. She described the concert halls and the evocative music she'd listened to there. She described the level that was modelled on the Pleistocene savannahs of North America with regenerated mammoth, mastodon, ground sloths and sabre-tooth cats. She marvelled at the wide variety of entertainment available in the colony from the most vulgar to the most exquisite. She made Paul understand that there were far more pleasures available to the space tourist on Ecstasy than the just hedonistic ones for which the colony was most famous.

It was during one such pause, that Paul heard a strange commotion that came from outside the apartment and down the corridor. There were aggressive shouts and an unnerving thump. He glanced at Beatrice with a smile.

"Partygoers!" he said with a grin. "They've obviously had too much to drink."

"Maybe," said Beatrice, but for the first time that evening without a smile on her face. There was an unusual seriousness on her face. "I think I'd better check."

"Be careful," said Paul with real concern. "You know what people can be like when they've had too much to drink." Of course he didn't really know. He'd seen the odd tourist vomiting on the streets outside the bars and only knew about the antisocial affects of drinking from his extensive research into earlier centuries.

"Don't worry about me," said Beatrice. She stood up, naked as always, and left Paul on the bed as she strolled out of the bedroom and then out of the apartment altogether.

While she was gone, the commotion outside actually got worse and despite the soundproofing of the apartment loud enough for Paul to get some idea of what was happening. The shouts got louder. Then there was the sound of scuffling and some muffled thuds. Paul was torn between his natural cowardice and a chivalrous sense of duty, but thankfully Beatrice was back in the flat well before five minutes had passed.

"You were right," she said, smiling at Paul through the open door. "Just some rowdy neighbours. I'll just wash my hands and I'll be back with you."

Paul smiled. He could hardly wait to resume their lovemaking. Already his penis was twitching with excitement. But somewhere at the back of his mind, he couldn't help wondering why Beatrice should want to wash her hands and why there were red streaks on her arms and bosom.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 09







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 09



"That was a tremendous game, captain," she heard a familiar voice say as she strode into the atrium where the spectators were milling around and clearly reluctant to leave so soon for home.

It was indeed Beatrice who'd addressed her. She was dressed in a flimsy top through which her nipples protruded. Her tight shorts hid only the details but not the contours of her crotch and hips. She was hand-in-hand with Paul who still wore a bored expression on his face.

"Yes, it was," said the captain, who restrained herself from kissing her lover in public right beside her cuckolded husband. "Of course, I can't say whether the best team won, as that's not in my position to say, but it was a very exciting match."

In the subsequent small talk, Captain Kerensky studied Paul as best she could to see how much, if at all, he suspected his wife of having an affair and, what is more, with the captain of the Interplanetary Space Ship Intrepid. She could see no more evidence that he was aware of his wife's infidelity than when the captain first invited the couple to her office. He barely engaged his eyes with hers at all and held his hand firmly in Beatrice's. His gaze was more often on her than one anyone or, indeed, anything else. 

Perhaps he was so nonchalant because he was an anarchist, Nadezhda mused. She knew little about such fringe political ideologies and could easily be persuaded that just as where Paul lived there was no government maybe he also didn't share the same moral concerns as people of other nations. Perhaps in a sense he was above petty concerns such as jealousy, however much he was apparently attached to and protective of Beatrice.

Even so, Captain Kerensky continued to hold her original opinion when she first met Paul that he was a decidedly unimpressive man. He was probably just incredibly naïve and easy to fool. 

It was this unflattering assessment that most reassured the captain when Beatrice and Paul departed and she wandered off to chat with the other officers. 

Having such a contemptuous attitude really did make it much easier for Nadezhda to continue her relationship with Beatrice untroubled and free from guilt.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 10







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 10



Paul smiled affectionately at Beatrice who he'd had no difficulty at all in fitting a reciprocal bracelet onto her wrist. However, he was startled to see that his wife's expression was quite different to what he'd expect on a woman who was about to get married. Rather her keen-eyed and alert face would have been more appropriate if she were about to go hunting (an activity as illegal in the Socialist Republics as it was disapproved of in Godwin).

Then, with no warning, Beatrice suddenly pushed Paul down onto the velvet-carpeted floor. At the same time there erupted a deafening bang and a slow-dying echo.

"What the fuck!" he yelled, as his head fell onto the bridesmaid's delicate shoe. And then: "Shit!" when he realised that the shoe and the foot inside it were not attached to a body at all but terminated in a bloody stump.

It was then that he adjusted his senses to the confusion of sound and brilliant light that accompanied his fall while he was still in Beatrice's tight grip. The bridesmaid wasn't the only casualty in the explosion. Comrade Smith's head was also lying on the ground. It was still attached to her shoulders but singed at the bosom and the stumps of her arms. The extreme heat had been enough to cauterise her wounds, but a thin trickle of blood was seeping out from her ears and mouth.

Paul looked about him which was quite difficult since his nose and eyes were very much at floor level. There was more yelling and a great deal of it was nothing more than a series of expletives. He turned his head towards the congregation of which he could mostly see only feet, but many of these were splattered with blood.

"Get up!" said Beatrice urgently, as she dragged Paul up onto his feet.

"Run!" she ordered as she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards a side-door that like everything else was much larger than it needed to be.

Her command couldn't have come sooner.

There suddenly came another explosion that propelled Paul and Beatrice through the side-door with tremendous force. The newlyweds fell onto the well-trimmed lawn outside the temple amongst fragments of broken marble and polished wood. Miraculously, Paul's only injuries were mild abrasions and scratches while Beatrice had escaped with nothing more than a coating of dust and dirt.

"What the fuck's happened?" Paul asked with real agitation and terror.

"There's been an assassination attempt," Beatrice said, comparatively unruffled and with remarkable calm. "It was one of the guests. Fourth row. Eighth chair on the right. She had some kind of plastic laser gun. She's still in there, but by now she'll be dead after she set off the explosives that were strapped around her waist. I think she also killed a significant proportion of the other guests."

"You saw her and saved me just in time?" guessed Paul.

"Yes," said Beatrice, with an amused smile that was as strangely inappropriate as her expression of alertness had been a few moments before. "What just happened was exactly like that."



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 11







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 11



This explanation fascinated Isaac. He had long expected the imminent coming of the Antichrist and its attendant Apocalypse which had been delayed several times already in his life. He was also not surprised that the atheists and heathens who made up the great majority of the many billions in the Solar System were denied the truth that the Judgement was now upon them. For it is written in Verses Twenty and Twenty-one of Chapter Nine of The Revelation of Saint John the Divine: "And the rest of the men which were not killed by these plagues yet repented not of the works of their hands, that they should not worship devils, and idols of gold, and silver, and brass, and stone, and of wood: which neither can see, nor hear, nor walk: Neither repented they of their murders, nor of their sorceries, nor of their fornication, nor of their thefts." He was only sorry that he was not able to witness the punishments to be visited on the wicked souls before they were sentenced to an Eternity of Damnation.

There was a sudden flickering of light in the chamber that was initially too bright. Like the oppressiveness of the gravity and the contrasting light-headedness brought about by too much oxygen, the space station's system had overcompensated and brought with it not only a brilliance of light that made Isaac squint but a rush of warm air that was at first welcome relief to his numbed fingers and toes, but soon bathed him in a sheet of sweat.

"The Lord be praised!" exclaimed Isaac as his eyes gradually adjusted to the brightness and he was at last able to see again his bearded, turbaned companion.

"Allah Akhbar!" exclaimed the Muslim with equal but opposite veneration.

Rescue didn't arrive for several more hours in which time Isaac and his infidel companion struggled on their hands and knees as far across the chamber as they could towards the closed doors before the exertion and heat became too much for them. It was the Muslim who first lost consciousness. He collapsed just beside a collection of batons and laser-rifles that were scattered about the floor. It was several minutes and almost as many yards of extreme effort later that Isaac's consciousness finally gave way and he fell where he was later found, pressed onto the floor by air pressure many times greater than the human frame was designed to endure.

Isaac's torment wasn't over when he'd at last recovered consciousness in the space station's hospital. His lungs had collapsed and he had badly cracked his head on the ceiling when the gravity had been abruptly cut off. Fortunately, treatment for ailments of this kind were of no trouble to even the Thirty-First century medical facilities that were all the space station was able to provide.

However, it wasn't so much his slow recovery to full health that troubled the Soldier of Christ, but the persistent and unremitting questioning he endured from the Holy Inquisitor assigned to him. It was, indeed, Abraham, his erstwhile closest friend. It was no trivial matter that he'd been left unsupervised for so long in the company of an infidel.

Sinful though it might be, Isaac's first inclination to the barrage of questions and face-slapping he suffered was to deny that he'd spoken even one word to the Muslim in whose company he had been for so many hours. But Abraham was a subtle inquisitor. He relentlessly exploited every crack in Isaac's tale and soon penetrated his companion's artless obfuscations to learn every detail of his conversation with the infidel translator. Curiously though, the Holy Inquisitor was less concerned with a wavering of faith, which was Isaac's main worry, but with what information could be gleaned from the Muslim's own insight into the nature of the Apostasy.

"Satan is a devious foe," said Abraham almost kindly. "He tempts the Righteous in the most subtle ways. Is it a wonder that he persevered for forty days and forty nights to tempt Jesus Christ in the wilderness as described in Chapter Four of the Gospel According to Saint Luke? Although in the end, Satan was banished, his was a temptation to which a lesser being would surely have succumbed. It is interesting that the infidel knew that that the strange apparitions associated with the Apostasy had once been attributed to miracles."

"And why is that?" asked Isaac from the confines of the bed to which he was pinioned by tubes that trailed from his nostrils and stomach.

"It was once believed by the Archdeacon himself that these miracles were the Acts of the Lord and although he pronounced nothing to the people of Holy Trinity he claimed that they were proof indeed of the Lord's existence. For many decades, together with others equally misled by Satan, the policy of Holy Trinity was to propagate to the heathens and atheists of the greater Solar System that God had chosen to reveal Himself in this rather less than subtle way."

"But the Archdeacon doesn't believe that now?" asked Isaac, conscious that for the first time in his life he'd learnt that even clerics were not infallible.

"He was visited in a dream by the Messiah Himself. This was coincidentally at about the same time that an extraordinary meeting of the Ecumenical Council was called in the heretical colony of God's Glory. It was revealed to him that not only was it concordant with the financial and political welfare of the True Church to cooperate with the infidels and heretics of the Ecumenical Council, but that the Apostasy was no less than the manifestation of Satan and that the miracles were no more attributable to the Lord than are those signs which persuade the godless to believe in such heretical fantasies as evolution, dark matter and the existence of stellar systems other than the one Solar System which was all that God the Father created nearly eight thousand years ago."

Isaac had never heard such heresy before and was horrified to learn of the possibility that the universe might be larger than the Solar System. (He had no notion of what evolution or dark matter might be, though he was sure that they were heresies of the very worst kind).

"However," the Holy Inquisitor continued, "it is imperative that you should mention to no one that you have heard of these miracles. Should you do so, then you will be denied the honour of serving the True Faith in its hour of need and your wife and family will be tainted with the reputation that you have swayed in the observance of your religious vows."

Isaac knew only too well the consequences of such a reputation, having often visited the most extreme justice on those who'd sinned by association. He resolved to never divulge what he had learnt. He was just grateful that the mission on which he was engaged was so urgent that the Holy Inquisitor and, by implication, His Holiness the Archdeacon should extend forgiveness to Isaac for having so sinned by having opened his ears to the words of an infidel.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 12







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 12



Paul was aware that the longer he and Beatrice stayed in Schmidt the more testing it was for his guardians. They'd become ever more twitchy as the days passed by. It was equally as awkward for the government officials who were disconcerted by how little their honoured guests observed the protocols expected of distinguished representatives of the Interplanetary Union. Although nothing was said to Paul, he suspected that complaints might have been made elsewhere. But as official protocol were such an abstract concept to him, he was sure there wasn't much to worry about.

As he and Beatrice prepared to leave on their last morning for a flight to the Earth orbit ship, the Ulysses, it was Paul's wife who made the observation that had been in his mind all the time.

"I can't imagine that our stay in Schmidt has done President Ronald any favours," Beatrice said.

"You don't think so, darling?"

"How much do you know about diplomacy and statehood, my sweetest?"

"I think I know what the words mean."

"Are you sure you do?" Beatrice wondered. "I'm not so certain. I don't think you've bothered to follow the news at all while we've been here, have you?"

"Well, I've watched the news on SSBC," said Paul, referring to the Solar System Broadcasting Corporation which mostly concentrated on news of a interplanetary nature.

"Not local news, I bet," said Beatrice. "There's been some diplomatic friction between the Interplanetary Union and the Schmidt Republic. The President doesn't believe that the Interplanetary Union is taking the republic's petition for recognised statehood seriously. There's been some delicate negotiation about the price rises the colony intends to impose on its chief export..."

"Pornography, you mean?"

"What else is there? Do you think this sordid outpost in the Jovian Asteroid Belt could export anything else of value to the rest of the Solar System? No names are mentioned, of course. We are on a secret mission after all, my sweetest. But offence has been taken. I don't think the reports sent back by sweet Yuliya and that stiff prude, Sergei, will in any way progress Schmidt's case."

"It does seem to be a peculiarly accident-prone place."

"Doesn't it just! I don't think our farewell committee will be nearly as dignified as our welcoming one..."

"So no speeches?" said Paul.

"I'd be very surprised if the departure of the shuttle to the Ulysses was accompanied by nearly as much celebration as our arrival from the Molotov. So, you're almost certainly right. No speeches."

"Well, that's something to be grateful for," said Paul sincerely as he kissed his beautiful wife.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 13







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 14







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 14



"And then what do we do?" asked Paul.

The colonel dropped the luggage onto the floor just outside the elevator shaft to the upper levels. A stream of infantry was descending by another staircase whilst a disconsolate scrum of civilians stood waiting by the elevator as the numbers displayed gradually dropped to single digits on its return to the second level.

"Then," the colonel said with a smile, "we sit and wait."



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 15







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 15



Several of the odd-shaped but swift robots were destroyed by the Holy Crusaders' powerful guns, but more than enough survived such attacks to disable their assailants. This they did not by killing the valiant crusaders, but simply by immobilising them. One by one, the crusaders fell to the ground either smothered in viscous liquids or put out of action as their suits became rigid and unresponsive.

The blasts from Isaac's own gun were deflected by an approaching robot that resembled more a wraith than a machine. He discovered that he couldn't get his suit to move however much he struggled. He was rigid and helpless, one foot still raised above the ground and an arm outstretched. His heavy gun slipped from his arms and dropped harmlessly to the ground. He was totally incapable of picking it up or, indeed, of making any movement at all.

Then, to add insult to injury, when the entire crusading force was paralysed, Isaac was engulfed in a blue cloud of dust which swept his military suit and weaponry clean from his body. They completely vanished and Isaac slumped naked and hairless onto the lawn. He was now no longer in what he'd momentarily imagined to be Heaven. He was as naked and helpless as a penitent soul on entering Hell.

Isaac focused his gaze on the grass in which his nose was buried. He was as ashamed of his nakedness as Adam and Eve were on the day of their Disobedience. Although he could blink, breathe and even talk, he was still unable to move his body.

Isaac wondered whether there were texts in the Gospels that described his predicament. Most verses that came to mind described the fate not of the virtuous but of the vicious and damned. It was said in Chapter Thirty-two Verse Twenty-four of The Fifth Book of Moses: Called Deuteronomy "They shall be burnt with hunger, and devoured with burning heat, and with bitter destruction: I will also send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the poison of serpents of the dust." However, it was also said in Chapter Five Verse Twenty-two of The Book of Job: "At destruction and famine thou shalt laugh: neither shalt thou be afraid of the beasts of the earth."

This verse gave Isaac a few crumbs of comfort as he slumped in wait for many more hours than the minutes it took for the invasion to be thwarted and awaited the punishment that he was certain the atheist devils would visit him. He was certain that the godless would punish him with more cruelty than even the guardians of faith could contemplate. Unlike him, they didn't fear divine retribution if they were judged to have taken pleasure in meting out punishment. Their inhumanity wasn't constrained by fear of Eternal and Merciless Divine Justice. What torment would they unleash on him?

Sadistic punishment was precisely what Isaac expected, as did all his vanquished comrades. For what other purpose than malevolent cruelty could their lives have been so far spared?



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 16







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 16



"Erika's signal's gone dead!" he exclaimed. "There's nothing at all."

"Where did the explosion take place?" asked the aging musician.

The captain's avatar suddenly appeared in the middle of the café as it must have done in every other chamber, room or privy throughout the ship. 

"Do not panic," he said in seven different languages, one after the other. "The situation is under control."

And then more information became available, transmitted first in English and then in other languages. Paul reasoned that the passengers who were still in their cabins or suites wouldn't need to be exposed to so many different languages, but he had to listen to the same account repeated in Arabic, Mandarin, Russian, Hindi, French and Spanish before the language returned once again to English. 

There had been an explosion on board the space ship Ulysses. The life-support systems were intact. The source of the explosion was in a suite in the outermost level that had punctured the ship's hull and the next innermost level. There had been a massive loss of air and water which was currently trailing the ship, but the loss was now being contained. The loss of life was still in the lower hundreds.

Beatrice frowned while Mikhail studied the rather more comprehensive data that was fed to him from the Interplanetary Union's own information service.

"Another assassination attempt?" she guessed.

"The centre of the explosion was your suite," Mikhail confirmed. "In fact, its actual source was Erika."

"Erika? Our guard?" asked Paul who was getting both increasingly weary and ever more anxious at the trail of destruction that was following him wherever he went.

"Erika," confirmed Paul's Saturnian guard. "It was she who was at the heart of the incident. She's exploded!" 

"I thought she didn't look well," Beatrice commented wryly.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 17







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 17



There was a sudden exhalation of wreckage from one of the breaches and a crushed shattered mass of metal was ejected into space. Along with the pod's debris were space-suited figures that hovered helplessly in space, before being routinely rescued by the Intrepid's defending robots. Not all the survivors were resigned to being taken prisoner in this way and there was a fresh set of rather smaller explosions as space-suits exploded and fragments of flesh and bone flew outwards with the shards of metal and plastic. One figure unscrewed the helmet around his head and was instantly frozen to death.

"Some have made it inside," said Vanity who was studying an image of the outermost level of the ship.

Ali, Svetlana and Jaden crowded around behind Vanity to look at the display of space-suited invaders who were staggering to their feet. They were laden down not only by their clumsy uniforms but also by the weight of their lethal weapons.

"We'll just have to hope that the Intrepid's militia can neutralise the threat," said Professor Manchu.

Jaden nodded. 

This was by far the most exciting event of his whole career in astronomy so far. There was so much to do to evaluate the invasion's current progress. Svetlana had already returned to her console where she could study the defence of the Intrepid in slow-motion replay. It was only now that Jaden could appreciate the scale of the invasion and the military tactics used to repel it. At the very leisurely pace of the replay, Jaden could see that the Intrepid's missiles, rather than just heading in a straight line towards their fast receding targets had zigzagged back and forth while releasing small defensive missiles and deadly beams at the invaders' defences. Many, perhaps most, were destroyed before they hit their targets, but the explosions even from a distance caused lethal damage to the invading craft. In one case, an intercepted missile directed the debris from its antimatter explosion outwards and with great accuracy towards the engines of an escaping vehicle which was then extinguished like a candle flame. 

"Has the Intrepid completely repelled the invaders?" Jaden asked the professor's avatar.

"We'll soon know," said the professor with an anxious crumpling of his brow. "The data's coming in thick and fast and whatever the outcome there'll be weeks, if not months, of analysis ahead of us."

Jaden inwardly sighed. He guessed that there would now be plenty of opportunity for overtime. His mission had suddenly become much busier.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 18







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 18



"Surely it's not that easy?"

"If it weren't for the war, there'd be virtually no need for an Emergency Service on this asteroid at all," Beatrice commented. "On Venus, where there's never been a war, every day is a miracle of survival."

However reticent Beatrice was with Paul privately, she was much more open over the following days when she chatted with the now animated citizens of Hygiea who treated the couple with a respect and admiration that had previously been wholly absent. The couple were feted wherever they went by the citizens of the war-torn Asteroid. This caused huge anxiety to their minders who always stood apart at a discrete distance. Beatrice and, by association, Paul were celebrities and when they ventured outside their room they were immediately mobbed by dozens of well-wishers and admirers.

Paul was embarrassed by this fame almost as much as he was in awe of his wife's heroism, of which he was forever reminded wherever the couple went together. It was curious to be interviewed, always hand-in-hand with the broadly smiling Beatrice, by the various media outlets on Hygiea. It had been a long time since a news story of such popular appeal had appeared on the drab and war-weary Asteroid. It made a welcome relief to the citizens from the normal diet of anti-Parthenope diatribes ladled out by the patriotic media.

Paul relished his second-hand celebrity, but it also made him wonder even more about his wife. Of all the women he could have married in the Solar System, what divine providence had so determined it that his wife would be someone like Beatrice? She must surely be every man's fantasy and she was now the woman with whom he made love every day.

Just what had he done to deserve such a ridiculous privilege?



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 19







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 19



The four crusaders discovered that there were other English-speaking communities scattered about the level. The holographic signs were sufficiently intelligent to guide Isaac and his comrades to the community from which they had come, though it crossed all of their minds that there might be others of their own faith, or exact interpretation of the Christian faith, in amongst these other settlements. They weren't disposed to investigate further as these other English-speakers—although also proudly displaying the cross in one form or other—didn't appear at all keen to have strangers approach them.

Just over a day later, Isaac and his comrades had completed the circuit of the invisible perimeter that enclosed the Holy Crusaders. The other crusaders they passed were similarly engaged in determining the limits of territory but the only remaining sign of the unity of their mission was that they too were naked and stubble-pated. Even though none of his comrades understood other languages any better than did Isaac, it was obvious from the frosty tone of the greeting that passed between the fellow crusaders that it was only the lack of weapons that forestalled any outright violence.

When Isaac's company eventually returned to the point from which they'd started, they were just in time to see a flurry of robotic activity as the bowls and dishes containing one day's repast was replaced by another.

"What did you find?" Jeremiah asked of his comrades as they squeezed past the doors to the other chambers of their villa into the one where Isaac's company resided.

The crusaders listened intently as Isaac and his comrades described how the territory assigned to them was circumscribed and how escape, let alone the pursuance of their crusade, seemed impossible.

"We are prisoners," concluded Amos. "The atheists have confined us within these empty homes and keep us fatted like calves. We are in purgatory. We are in a world where we are daily tested by the heresies of the other crusaders and cannot pursue our mission."

"The Lord will find a way," said Isaac with determination. "He will not abandon us."

"Amen!" agreed Elijah.

"And what next?" Amos asked. "The atheists haven't yet made known their intentions. Do they toy with us still?"

An uneasy silence was the only response to Amos' questions. The six crusaders who'd stayed behind regarded each other nervously.

Finally Jeremiah spoke for them.

"Yesterday while you were abroad, five atheist soldiers entered the villa," he said. "They were heavily armed and two of them were women. They took four crusaders away with them and one of them was David."

All eyes now focused on their comrade who was clearly embarrassed by the attention. David held his hands knotted together over his crotch and regarded his comrades nervously.

"They took me by one of their hovering crafts to a cell where I was interrogated," he said. "I was blindfolded on the journey and know only that where I was taken was to a place very unlike this level. The flight took less than ten minutes and I was accompanied by heretics whose faith I do not know."

"Did they torture you?" asked Ezra.

David shook his head. "I was in a single room, bound to a seat by cords, and was asked questions by an atheist."

"What did you say?" Amos asked.

"As little as I could," said the crusader. "But the questioning was subtle. After only a few hours I was transported back here."

"You weren't tortured?" asked Isaac anxiously.

"No," said David. "The atheist asked questions the answers to which he already seemed to know. He had none of the usual tools of interrogation on hand."

This seemed highly unlikely. If Isaac had the duty of interrogating a prisoner on Holy Trinity, then he would have, at the very least, removed a finger or testicle. What could possibly be discovered without the use of torture?

Isaac decided that either David had betrayed his comrades without a struggle or that his comrade was being brave and wouldn't admit to the sadistic horrors he'd suffered. The latter seemed unlikely, however. David had none of the traumas Isaac associated with the victims of interrogation. The inevitable conclusion was that his comrade must be a traitor. If only he had the necessary equipment then he would soon extract from his comrade the truth he already suspected.

Nevertheless, a lingering doubt remained in Isaac's mind. These atheists might know of methods of torture he'd never come across before. They might have tortured David without leaving the usual scars and obliterated his memory of the suffering he'd undergone. It was thus unwise for him to directly accuse his comrade of treachery.

But most of all Isaac dreaded the occasion when he too would be dragged away by the atheists and interrogated. How well would he withstand their interrogation? With what scars would their torture leave him when he refused to give them the answers they were seeking?



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 20







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 21







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 22







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 22



"There's nothing special about you, but something like this had to happen to someone and that someone just happened to be you."

"It can't be just as simple as that."

"Yes, it can."

"I don't understand," said Paul in his dream.

"Fucking wake up will you!" said another voice intruding into Paul's dream world and it wasn't the old man's. The woman to whom it belonged was vigorously shaking Paul's shoulder.

"Whassup?" wondered a bleary-eyed Paul.

"Didn't you hear the alarms?" asked the blue-haired, polka-dot faced nurse when she dragged Paul into full consciousness. "Or for that matter, the explosion!"

"Explosion?" asked Paul. "What? Another one!"

"I'll take him, nurse," said Beatrice who suddenly materialised by Paul's side and took his arm in hers.

"What's happening?" asked Paul, still unsure whether he was still dreaming.

"I don't know," said Beatrice. "I heard a huge bang while I was in the toilet and when I got out there were smoke and alarms and people running everywhere."

"Fuck! Not another assassination attempt!" groaned Paul.

"I can't be sure," said Beatrice. "It could be anything. Do you know what happened, nurse?"

"This way. This way," said the nurse directing them along the smoke-filled hallway where their path was only navigable from the emergency lights that dotted the way toward the exit.

Paul could see nothing through the smoke beyond the shadowy silhouettes of the robots that were handling the emergency. He was more concerned about his survival than in finding an answer to why he was in this predicament. It was only later when he was sitting down and coughing up the smoke that choked his lungs that his thoughts returned to such issues.

"What happened?" he asked.

"All I know was that there was a sudden blast," said the nurse. "Do you know any more?" she asked Beatrice.

Paul's wife shook her head. She raised her head towards a security guard who was walking by with a laser rifle. "What caused the explosion?"

"Intruders," said the security guard. "We don't know how they got in. Probably an inside job. They were dressed as doctors. We don't know what they were doing or why. Video footage shows that they were carrying an explosive device that they set off just outside the women's toilets. There doesn't appear to be a good reason for it."

"Perhaps they didn't like women's toilets," said Beatrice disingenuously.

"Whatever," said the security guard. "But the only casualties were the perpetrators. And for our lucky survival we can only thank Allah."

"Indeed," agreed Beatrice with a small smile.



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 23







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 23



"You shouldn't take it so personally, sweetheart," he said strolling towards his husband, brushing a strand of long blond hair off his decidedly feminine face. "These cranks have been brainwashed. They'll believe only what they've been told to believe. Imagine what it's like to be brought up in a world where the nonsense in Revelations and Genesis is treated with seriousness. Some even deny that their colonies revolve around the Sun. They're beyond hope."

"Don't say that!" retorted Emmanuel sharply. "You don't have to be a Christian to feel compassion for those who live in such fear and intolerance."

"Fuck it!" said Maxwell as he clasped Emmanuel in his arms and peppered his cheeks with kisses. "Let them believe what they like. All the rebels you've interviewed are murderers and torturers. Do you think any one of them wouldn't have twisted off your thumbs, crushed your testicles or gouged out your eyes? They've been guilty of crimes that should have them all put into psychiatric care. If they want to tear themselves apart in Holy Wars or return home to some kind of ritual crucifixion, well, fuck it, they deserve every last nail hammered into their feet."

"That's the very reason I'm a Christian," said Emmanuel who pecked his husband on the cheek. "He taught compassion for everyone. However heinous their crimes, these crusaders are misguided souls who deserve compassion. Isaac loves his family. He believes he acted virtuously even when he behaved most inhumanely. Shouldn't he be afforded some sympathy?"

"You agonise too much on his behalf," retorted Maxwell as he placed a hand on Emmanuel's stirring cock. "If he was interrogating you rather than the other way round you'd be beaten to a bloody pulp. You certainly wouldn't have a dick left that's half as good as this!"

"Not here!" Emmanuel whispered urgently, although he could feel passion rising within him. He directed his eyes towards the surveillance cameras that constantly kept watch on the interrogation chamber: more to provide evidence of alleged abuse than to spy on the person being interrogated. 

"You're such a prude!" Maxwell laughed. "Come on! We've surely got time before your next candidate."

"In fact I've finished for the day," said his husband.

"And how many fanatics did you have to question?"

"I'm not sure. Dozens. They were all so very sad. All the suffering they've undergone in pursuit of their pointless quest..."

"And all the suffering they've been responsible for," said Maxwell. "You've got to put it in perspective."

The two lovers wandered off to their shared villa on the seventh level. This wasn't quite as well appointed as Paul's now deserted villa on the outermost level, but it was in a pleasant close surrounded by fields of wheat and barley over which larks sang and crows circled above tall trees. Each villa had its own swimming pool where on a towel the two lovers pulled off each other's clothes and lay down together. Their hands brushed along each other's thighs and toyed with their testicles.

Maxwell took his husband's now fully erect cock in his mouth while agitatedly pumping his own penis in his hand. Their passion grew steadily with their agitated kisses until it reached a high enough crescendo for Maxwell to offer his gaping anus to Emmanuel's obliging thrusts. Toned muscle pressed against toned muscle. Beard scraped over stubble. Chest hairs tangled. And in the acrobatic exertion, Emmanuel engaged his penis in his husband's arse as he released his anxieties and doubts in the lovemaking he never felt anxious about and with the love of a husband he'd never doubted. 

They were an odd couple in many ways. Maxwell had none of his husband's piety and although he preferred a submissive role he was the more outgoing and sociable of the two. Neither would have met the other normally. Emmanuel had lived in Earth orbit on a colony that was proud of its Polynesian heritage but was far from ethnically pure. Maxwell was a Saturnian who rebelled against the conventional style of clothing and hairlessness in the Socialist Republics and had even once had a long-term heterosexual relationship.

Their fucking climaxed after not very long as Maxwell couldn't restrain his semen from spurting over the hard enamel tiles of the swimming pool. Emmanuel released his semen as soon afterwards as he could, considerately over his husband's arse cheeks rather than inside the anus. They then jumped into the pool to wash off their shared sweat and sperm.

"Are you interviewing any more of these rebels tomorrow?" Maxwell asked as he surfaced from the deep blue water of the pool.

Water streamed down Emmanuel's hairy chest and plastered his long hair to his cheeks. He grabbed his lover by the shoulders and peppered them with affectionate kisses.

"Yes. But we're almost through. There are fewer than a hundred left to be processed."

"And have you learnt much?" wondered Maxwell.

Emmanuel pondered on this. "Yes, I have. But nothing that shakes my faith," he said. "What troubles me most is how what should be a force for understanding and harmony in the Solar System can be so easily perverted. How much stronger would the community of believers be if the Christian faith was never plagued by hypocrisy and dogma?"

"Well, I'm sure there'd be many more believers if there wasn't so much crap associated with religion," replied Maxwell with a smile as he tenderly caressed his husband's penis. "But nothing will ever make me believe in all that spiritual nonsense and mumbo-jumbo. If there is a God, then He's done a pretty crap job. And if there is such a thing as spiritual truth why can it never be explained in ways that ordinary people can understand?"



Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 24







Battle for the Known Unknown Ch. 25