Prologue

Before midnight, she was banished to hell, but before dawn, she dreamt of Eden. Oana Rain inhaled the clean urban air. She was two thousand feet above the ground in the roof of a skyscraper, one which was not afforested. She leaned over the barrier to get a better look of the world she was in, and saw the martian metropolis, the lustful, green parks above the buildings, the pillars of the temporary space elevators connecting heaven to earth, pulsating with dim blue light, the cloudwalkers soaring between buildings in silence, and the Startrail square, embraced in eternal darkness, where thousands of humans had gathered to end the day with flames and dancing.

      A voice saying her name ripped her out of the enchantment of the city. She turned her back to the sight, and joined in the company preparing for dinner.

      - We are talking about you, Oana Rain �" said the man. Distant, raging thunders roared following his words. She didn’t know him, did not know his name, and has never seen him before, but when their eyes intertwined, the dreamscape of the dinner and the city faded away.

      - I need to tell you something �" he continued. �" I had to break through the defense mechanism of the Vatican, and I’ve disconnected you from its servers for an instant. This �" he said spreading his arms �" is my dream. Your master, Clark Novaris told me that your life ends today. Hell will embrace you and you will be purified. Your sins will be forgiven, and you can return to the world from the vaticanian simulation. Cling to this when you wake up: righteousness is being a sinner in a world of corruption.

      The man vanished, the dream started to fade, and the darkness of space turned into Oana’s home in the Vatican.

      Awaking to reality from a better world may crush one’s soul. Trying to escape the realm of truth and being banished from the desired. The waking mind fights to see just one more minute from Eden, but the dream expels the unfaithful. The memories will fade away and the dreamer will be left with nothing but the longing for nothingness.

      Oana buried her face in her pillow. The vision of the man’s eyes and the distant roar of thunder became blurred memories. The feeling of home, which imbued her with calmness in the dream was now crushed by the pain of waking up. She screamed until she ran out of breath, then slowly, she started to calm down. Then she rose up and looked around. She laughed remembering the promise she heard in the dream, and got out of the bed. The smart-matter floor sent a signal to the central intelligence controlling the apartment. The floor started to warm up, the kitchen was already preparing breakfast and coffee. Before she left the room, she searched for pen and paper, and scribbled down the following words:

      „Righteousness is being a sinner in a world of corruption.”

      She put a cross to the end of the sentence, then went to the living room. The window looking at the waking city withdrew to its frame, and the walls started to play a slow and hollow song. The dome of Saint-Peter cathedral shimmered in the morning sunlight, and above it, the titanic Earth was still visible through the blue sky, where the last remaining residents of the planet were dreaming about space and their future in protection of the lightweb of the city.

      She knew the truth was different. Outside the virtual reality of the Second Vatican, humanity left the murdered planed a long time ago. The vaticanian server, the abandoned Hell, had been orbiting the Earth without occupants for a long time. The space station was a prison system once, welcoming guests from all around the world. Now, it was the sanctuary of the outcasts, the humans who were banished from the anarchist societies of Mars. They choose to erase their memories of the paradise and live in the statist theocracy to where their morality belonged.

      Oana collapsed onto the couch, and in the embrace of the hot blanket, she reached for the book on the floor. She found the massive, ancient volume to be a pillow so pleasantly unconfortable that it allowed her to watch the simulated sunrise without sinking back to sleep.

      The creator A.I.did a perfect job in creating the world to the smallest detail, because the outcasts wanted to feel their world authentic, and not a distant branch of the wide Dreamworld, the sum of virtual realities. Below the shield that protected the city from the geomagnetic storms, the first clouds were forming. The holographic projector created the Earth-like atmosphere from bottom to top. Advertisements appeared between the clouds, echoing the will of the pope, just like the white dove crossing through the air, a stalk of weath in her beak, and in the wake of her wings, the name „Vatican Research Institution” before the vision disappeared.

      „The Lord is far from the wicked: but he hears the prayer of the righteous.” �" thundered the voice of Pope Henoch from the heavens. The word righteous made her laugh.

      - You know nothing of righteousness, Henoch �" she said.

      She drifted away from the world. Her mind was mapping the last dream she saw, while her eyes rested on the sky. More and more thoughts emerged from the ocean of her subconscious, the echo of a liberated world, a man, whose skin was sewn with lightning, and whose long, black coat ended in flames. Death, as redemption. The promise of returning to a forgotten home.

      The world-shaking rumble of the bells reminded her of the fact that it is time to have breakfast.

***

      - Goodbye, Raskolnikov.

      The heavy tome flew through the room and collided with the wall. From it, the book bounced off to the couch unharmed. Oana jumped up and rearranged the apartment which she wandered through while reading. Looking out the window, she read the time from huge, holographic numbers: eleven-fourteen. She wouldn’t meet with bishop Novaris until six.

      She dressed up without looking at what she found or how she looked, after all, it was her last day, then she grabbed her black coat and stepped out of the door, rushed through the corridor and through the closing door of the elevator, and seemingly defying the law of gravity, she slowly leaned against the wall.

      - Hi Oana �" said a voice, to which she looked up.

      - Meito. Excuse me, I didn’t see you.

      The boy forced himself to smile. He seemed the same age as Rain was, and they were neighbours since anyone could remember. They saw each other every single day, walking past each other in the building or at the city. After her concerts, among the countless flowers and gifts, she always found the book she had complained to Nakurami Meito about, about its rarity and the fact that she was unable to find it in the black market. She both admired and hated him for that. Somehow he managed to get the most blasphemous, demonic writings, yet he did not use this ability for himself, he wasn’t more educated than the praying masses.

      Yes, Oana Rain was a composer, playing for the mass she despised. Music was banned in the Vatican. It was the art of the devil, they said. If she were to stand out to Saint Peter square and play the piece she played last night in the church, the girl would sin against the will of God. Laws and morality was absolute and unquestonable until the ruling class wanted it otherwise. And Henoch wanted music, and the best of it.

      In every memory remained to her from her life on Mars, she was a musician, and she didn’t sacrifice it when she entered the theocracy by choice. Only when she reached all the wealth and freedom the fame could offer did she realise the corruption and madness inside herself. She was hungry, and respect or title no longer had the power to soothe this thirst, so her first step towards purification started when she realized:

      „When you have more money than freedom, rebellion becomes duty, and solitude payment.”

      - Where are you going? �" asked the boy.

      - My plan is to walk around aimlessly and alone in the city.

      Oana watched the reaction of the boy. Boy, because his bodily weakness and bent posture, the fear in his eyes and his words, over which all human beings have power and control, are crying for a mother and not for a lover. Rain loved to play with him, crushing his hopes, and watching his resignation. Man is the only animal �" she thought �" who is able to give up his desires, and embrace the void.

      - Or �" said the girl slowly, thoughtfully �" we should go to a restaurant, provided that I choose which one.

      - Really? Now? �" The boy’s face lit up for a moment, and smiled, but then the joyful look vanished from his face, he crossed his arms and looked at her with disbelief. �" How do you mean if you get to choose? Between what do you want to choose?

      - Just trust me please and please be quiet �" she whispered.

      He sighed. When the lift reached the ground floor, Meito stepped out first, then turned to Oana. His hands were shaking.

      - No matter how I tried to reach you, Oana Rain… - he stopped, shook his head, and started again. �" You are no better than I am, lost, lonely and weak. I see these traits in you and I don’t like the way you live. Thousands upon thousands would kill to get the life you live, and you should know that. You have a good life here, you have everything. Yet you say this world is unjust and corrupt. For this, I despise you. Yet I fell in love with your music. I am bound by it, addicted. I do not know your innermost thoughts, your favorite book, what breakfast you had, I don’t know if you are in love with someone, sometimes, to be honest, I dont even get what you say, but I love your music. And your music is you, its pieces are yours, all note comes from you, and if I love that, I must also love you �" he said, and slowly exhaled. �" Its your turn �" he laughed. �" I think I’ve got a heart attack.

      - Where did you get such a courage, Nakurami Meito? �" laughed Oana. She stepped out of the lift and stood next to the boy. �" I’ll show you the place. And I’ll tell you who I am. But there will be nothing else between us.

      They walked out in silence, and Meito called for a cab. Oana gave the destination and after fifteen minutes of wordless travel, they stepped out of the car at the city’s periphery.

      - This is not good, its a dangeorus region �" said the boy.

      It was the region of the outcasts of the city. Criminals and autonomous rebels, people who, after returning from hell, the correctional facility prison of the state, broken and defeated, have left the downtown and moved to the area which was without surveillance. With the knowledge of freedom which awaits them in the outside world, and knowing that they themselves choose to be there in the simulated world, awaited redemtion, the moment when they will be allowed to return to the nameless colony. They lived in smaller anarchist groups and worked on themselves to be able to uphold the rules of reality once they got out.

      Behind the houses was the security system separating the city. The city was governed by its own creator artifical intelligence. The dreamers fed the mind with their imagination and subconscious world, and in turn, the A.I. intertwined all of their desires, and from the thoughts, ideas, notions of the inhabitants, it created the Second Vatican. Beyond the wall, the Dreamworld spread to infinity, as a formidable and controllable material to anyone who stepped through the city’s border.

      When the taxi disappeared between the buildings, Oana started to walk towards one of the buildings. A grey block of concrete, at least thirty storeys high, just as all of its neighbors. Its door was opened and most of the windows were shattered. Meito followed her closely, while his gaze saw potential danger in everything. They went through the empty, long corridor. She knocked twice on the door nearest to the stairs, then twice again.

      - You sure this is the good place?

      - Do you want to know what I’ve got to tell you?

      - Yes, but I dont want to end up robbed, bleeding out in an empty building.

      - I will ask one more time �" she turned to him, after someone opened the door just a little, and looked at his eyes. �" Would you like to know me, even if it has a price other than your life or security?

      - Y-yeah, sure.

      The door had opened.

      - I need to tell you something. There is a paradise. Humans built it. Once you step in, I will tell you everything about it, but the price is the following. I can not allow you to leave that place until you understand and hate the nature of our world and the choices that led you here. What you hate you repel from yourself. If I would allow you to leave without this hatred Henoch would set fire to this place by midnight with your help. You are now a corrupt human being, but you will leave purified, just as I did from my master. I am showing you a way, Meito.

      - Why? Why should I know anything about the world, or about myself?

      In Oana’s head, Meito slowly bled to death, but then she took deep, long breaths, and repeated to herself „you were just like him, remember the principle. Remember the principle.” until she calmed down. She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

      - I do this because I have a feeling that says this is my last chance to do so. Look. We are both living our first life here, we weren’t in hell yet, so we have the right to do things others cannot. Try to learn as much as you can now, while you are still yourself, while hell had not break your mind. Allright?

      The boy nodded and went in. Oana followed him, and closed the door, which melted into the coffee brown wall, then disappeared a second before Meito started screaming and beating the wall where the exit had been.

      - Let me out �" he shouted. �" This is a sinful place! I must leave, they will know.

      - Meito, god damn you �" she hissed with her jaw clenched. �" Do not make me ashamed, control yourself, behave as a normal person would. Calm down, take a deep breath and follow me.

      The place was a high cafeteria with bookshelves around the walls, in which banned and forgotten earthen literature lay. An elderly lady was searching for something amongst them with the books of Mises, Rothbard and Friedman in her hands. In front of the entrance, a black man played the piano. To the right, stairs led up to the balcony, where a young couple was talking. Apart from them, the place was empty. Above the counter,a black and yellow flag was hanging.

      The boy followed Oana Rain while looking around. They sat down to a silent table, before them holographic menu glowed.

      - I’ve read a book once about such a place and people, and that didn’t ended well. I have a bad feeling about this, Oana. I’m committing a crime with being here, and I will pay for it.

      - Nothing will happen unless you talk about this place.

      He nodded slowly.

      - So �" said the girl after ordering - I said I will tell you about the nature of our world. I have evidence supporting all my claims.

      - First the theory, then, if coherent, we’ll see the evidence.

      Oana looked at Meito questioningly.

      - Sorry �" he laughed. �" My hand is shaking, and I’m becoming impatient, the scientist is curious in me. I haven’t felt like this in the institution since ages, and only now  do I see that I really am interested in knowing more things, not just working in a lab. So continue, please.

      - It is as if you have forgotten yourself, right? The things you like, where you are coming from and where you are going.

      - Yeah… It is strange.

      - The year we live in is two thousand and seventy five, we are in a space station orbiting around Earth.

      He nodded.

      - The station is a virtual reality server we used as a prison. Decades ago, humanity has left the Earth and terraformed Mars, both because the planet was becomining inhabitable and to start a new beginning. They disbanded the government and created colonies without oppression, in which -

      - Wait, it doesn’t work like that �" he said, fighting his cognitive dissonance. �" They cannot do that, state is the foundation stone of every modern society. Without them, we are nothing but beasts killing each other.

      - You are, I am not. So, as I was saying, they created the liberated colonies, in which the first rule accepted by all was the non-aggression principle, that is, no one has the right to initiate the use of physical force against other human-like beings. No state, no boarders, anyone is allowed to join, but those who violate the first principle will be outcast, will be banned from private properties, stores, hospitals, everything, and he will be looked at as an illness, a plague. Meito, we are the oucasts. We are the ones who violated that principle, and the reason we are here in the Vatican is that we belong here philosophically, this is our moral home. We had accepted this fate, and, you know �"her voice broke off �" this is the worst thing of all. It was our choice to live in a world where we are oppressed, our children are controlled by fear, and forced to believe, and we all must serve.

      Meito was silent for a long time, digesting the information, then spoke.

      - More and more people come out as atheists, and you know that. They are not killed or anything. This world is not that bad. This world could be worse, right?

      - I’m sorry for being too harsh with you. I know this is a hard topic, but I don’t have much time left. I am going to leave this city, and before that, I’m trying to bring some change. I have no time for empathy.

      Yes, you are right. There are some, who do not believe in the deity worshipped in the church. But I tell you, Meito, apart from these people who are frequent at this place, each member of the society is a believer. They believe that a metaphysical concept has the right to rule, is above any moral law, its words are sacred and its enemies will suffer eternal damnation. This being cannot be sensed in the physical reality, yet all thinks it is their duty to obey its will. It is blamed, and they ask him for blessings. Sometimes, when the boat of life draws them toward dangerous waters, they despise it and curse it, but after a while the lost lambs return to the shepard. We give up our rights to property and life and freedom, just to put the weight of our fate upon the shoulders of this being, to do the dirty work instead of us, serve us goods we do not desereve, and cast to hell the sinners.

      The only difference, Meito, between an atheist and a believer is that the former calls its god ’state’.

      - But… - he shook his head. �" What you say is true, but for some reason I refuse to accept �" he seemed puzzled. �" But you know, I have my own evidence for some of the things you say. For example, do you know what we research at the institution? We do nothing. Nothing, I’m telling you, as long as we do not talk about it, we are safe, and we’ll get our paycheck. And the strangest thing is that there are technological advancements, even though we do nothing. I’ve been a scientist since I can remember, but I cannot be one here, and only now do I see how much I want to be one �" he leaned back, and said in an almost inaudible voice �" I thought these are unanswerable questions, so I didn’t paid any attention to them. I asked myself „how could I know?” �" and shrugged it off. But tell me, Oana, why is it Vatican?

      - Look. Men either accepts the rational, or the irrational as absolute guidance. Those who accept irrationality are living the world of illusion and have no connection to reality. They are the violent men, as Ayn Rand said, the only means they can achieve their goals is by brute force. And I tell you this: faith and violence are twin-brothers; while aggression is the physical, belief is the mental destruction and oppression of the self. Our mind is not perfect, and if you plant irrational fear into a child, it will be his absolute, his driving force, and the children will grow up, and as an animal ever-trembling in the corner, fearing the untouchable, shapeless entity, will attack with each interaction. You see, from the soil of faith, grows the tree of violence. Reality works through rational laws, not through violence. Faith corrupts the mind. The reason why it is Vatican is that we are all corrupted.

      - And what is the right thing to do? �" he whispered, looking at his hands.

      - Righteousness is being a sinner in a world of corruption �" answered Oana.

      A silver drone served the dinner. Oana and Meito talked for a long time, the air was filled with the scent of coffee and cigarette, and in the background, the man played an old melody, Oana’s first work. Dusk settled when they left the building. Meito called a cab, and when it disappeared, Oana sighed in relief. She returned to her thoughts �" where the memory of her dream awaited her in patience, and reminded her that it is almost time to go.

***

      The streets were empty. The sunset painted the holographic clouds and the buildings orange and purple. She was alone with her solitude, others did not dare to step out without the company of friends and family. It is easier to stay innocent if others chain you down. Oana crossed the Saint Peter sqare, and before she disappeared between the pillars embracing the place, he saw a man, and next to him was his wife, shouting with his child. The woman was nodding endlessly. Oana smiled, she searched for her gloves in her pocket, and started walking toward them.

      - How dare you contradict my will, you disgusting piece of s**t.

      With fist clenched, he struck down the crying little child who hit the ground in an instant, his skull started to bleed from the fall. He cried for help, for someone. Her mother loomed over her, and stepped on his throat.

      - One more word, and I swear, I will murder you.

      Oana’s palm dove deep into the woman’s stomach, and the miniature thrust engines built into her glove fired, launching the woman off of the boy’s neck, until her back collided with a stone pillar, then she collapsed to her knees. Rain found the gloves years ago in the black market, and it cost a fortune. She has never used it, but maintained its functioning and took care of it daily, and she carried it around in her pocket ceaselessly. Now she felt that each moment of the last years spent caring with the gloves, and the money from which she would have been able to buy a house, was worthwhile. A life of an innoccent child worths every trouble. She turned to face the father, behind him was the child gasping for air.

      - I will kill you if anything happens to him, understood?

      The man swallowed, and stepped back with shock in his eyes.

      - What do you think of yourself? �" shouted Oana. �" You, disease of our world, who awaken the demon of violence over and over, generation to generation. It is unforgivable. You have become perpetrators from victims. Look at him �" she screamed, pointing to the child, who was grabbing her coat. �" Look at his eyes and know that you are the reason why he’ll become a criminal, a sick, insane and contageous person, just like you. Look at me, and swear he won’t get hurt again. I will watch you and I will kill you otherwise.

      - I-I swear �" he said.

      Oana turned to the child and took his small hands. She whispered to him, so the parents could not hear her.

      - You will be safe for a while. If you are afraid of them, find bishop Novaris, okay? Bishop Novaris, and give this to him.

      She got a bracelet out of his pocket with a steel medal inside. The medal showed the symbol of the anarchists, with the letter A divided vertically, forming a cross with the horizontal line. She hugged the sobbing boy, and watched them go home without looking back.

      A chill ran down her spine. Her senses became weaker, her sight blurred and her ears were ringing, the dinner in his stomach turned into poison and she felt as if it was trying to gnaw itself out of her. She felt the world spinning. She dropped to one knee, when a cold, rough voice spoke adressed her.

      - Oana Rain.

      Urban legends speak about what it is like to meet an archangel, what it feels like when a law enforcement agent finds you, but none of them says a word about such a torture. The being spoke again.

      - I am bound to banish you to hell for your sins. But I will not. Not today.

      As an answer, Oana roared.

      - You are an important person, and His Holiness wants you to stay here as a composer. You have attacked an innocent person, which is wrong, but they have survived. Your sins are forgiven, but one more mistake, and the hounds will get you.

      - Innocents �" she spit the words out. �" They were not…

      - What could you do… the child is their property, it is their right to use it as they wish �" said the voice with indifference.

      The being disappeared, and she slowly regained her health. She just sat there, in the cold ground of the square, for minutes, then she looked up, and the snow began to fall. She reached in her pocket and took out a piece of paper, read the words of her dream, and threw it away hoping that someone will find it, someone who is worthless in the eyes of the system, and will not be spared for the punishment he deserves for speaking the truth, and doing what he thinks to be right.

      She sniffed, and got up. The wind shrieked, so she closed her coat, and, with steps hastened, continued her walk below the pillars of the square and between the houses thereafter. She got to an alley, and opened the door in in which an anarcho-punk circle-A was painted. The echo of her steps knocking on the marble travelled through the staircase. She playfully followed the painting with her finger, depicting the hell from the ground level through the Garden of Eden, and the Heaven next to the door of the apartment. She knocked twice, twice again, then opened the door.

      That was the first time she saw the bishop without his official dress. Clark Novaris wore a black protection vest sewn with nanothread. The material stretched to his perfectly built muscles, even though he was close to seventy. He wore black trousers and leather boots, while his gaze jumped from suit to suit in his gardrobe.

      He looked at his student, hummed while stroking his long, white beard and turned back to his clothes.

      - You are not seeking harmony, Oana �" he said. �" The higher you climb, the further you are from your roots.

      - I have no roots, past or memories.

      - What are you talking about?

      They looked at each other, both wearing the same puzzled look on their face.

      - What are you talking about? �" asked Oana.

      - About your clothing.

      She looked at herself, the black boots she wore, only its end visible below the long, blue skirt, then came the brown shirt, the silver medallion she always wore and the white scarf above it.

      - It is perfectly fine �" she said, and closed her coat, covering everything except the boots and the white scarf.

      - Yes! This is perfect �" the bishop said.

      He found a black gown, and before he dressed up, the vest withdrawn from his back, and Oana saw his neural implant covering the spine, and branching  off towards the hands at the shoulder. In its two sides, hundreds of scars spoke about the past of Clark Novaris. He turned to the girl with a smile on his face, and walked beside her, while a drone flew in through the window looking at the city. He put his arm around her shoulder and they looked at the drone, whose objective eye blinked lazily.

      - It’s worth making some moments eternal even in our world, don’t you think? I hope you didn’t blink.

      - I didn’t had the chance to do so.

      The bishop lauged, and picked up the freshly printed photos from his desk, while the drone flew away.

      - Good, good �" he handed one of the pictures to Oana. �" You and I are like a family since the first time we met.

      Oana answered with a smile, while watching the photograph.

      - Knowledge is my family. You taught me this one.

      - My home �" he said. �" Home is the world, and the family is the inhabitants. And I do tell you, we have the chance to create our own world and its residents, if you are willing to pay the price for it before. Oh and by the way, today I can’t talk to you for a long time, I hear the calling of… - he stopped, and stared at his desk.

      - Calling of… nature? Duty?

      - No, it is nothing �" he shrugged, and started to arrange the things on his desk. He tossed the hundreds of his writings into the fireplace, put every pen into the drawer, and covered the holographic projector.

      - So �" said Oana, - I was reading this morning the book you required.

      - How do you like it?

      - I do not. I do not understand how am I supposed to enjoy the private life of a thief and a killer. I see enough of them around me.

      - Yes, you are right. It is strange to think about it, but the writers of the past preferred to create corrupt people instead of heroes. Monsters, murders and criminals instead of setting an example of righteousness.

      - Righteousness… I’ve heard this word way too many times today. A man appeared in my dreams and told me about it, and he promised that the time is near when I can leave this world. And before I arrived, I saw a men beating his child, so I stopped him, and wounded her wife badly. Really badly, I saw her bleeding.

      - And?

      - And I’m still here. Nothing happened. I wanted to die, to get to Hell.

      - No you didn’t �" he said. �" You have no idea how painful it will be. It is not like this simulation, it is a computer virus infecting your mind. You will suffer for so long, that you’ll forget your name, your identity, past and everything, and then they’ll let you back. Is this what you want? Are you willing to sacrifice everything just to move forward?

      - Yes.

      The following events seemed unreal to her. She watched in shock, in paralysis the incomprehensably fast movement of Clark Novaris, as he picked up the knife from the table, put it into the girl’s hand and stabbed himself in the chest driving it through his heart and spine. The first waves of reality flooded her mind when the warm blood started to flow through her fingers, while the lifeless body of his master collapsed into the floor. Her scream travelled through the house when her mind became infected with the virus erasing one’s self.

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