Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

open-ended evolution.
    This must be him."
    "And the angels?" said Silence.
    Carrion paused. "I'm still working on that."
    Morrell studied the huge forms floating overhead. "You know, I hate to be a stickler for details, but… shouldn't they be playing harps, or something? And how come they don't have to flap their wings to stay up there?"
    "They certainly don't seem to be aerodynamically stable," said Carrion.
    "You two keep well away from me," said Barron.
    "When the plague of boils comes hurtling down from on high, I don't want you two anywhere near me."
    "Let's try and stick to the matter at hand," said Silence. He turned his best intimidating glare on Jesus. "Are you in fact the scientist Marlowe?"
    "That was long, long ago," said Jesus. "Behold; I will tell you everything.
    Once, I was just a man, as any other. I walked among them, and they did not know my greatness. We were all scientists here, laboring for our Emperor. We were researching into nanotech. Into God's building blocks. Into the transformation and programming of humans. The Emperor wished to be able to determine the shape, nature, and identity of all humans, from birth. Properly programmed nanotech should be capable of producing desired traits to order. The population would then consist of preprogrammed worker drones, warriors, breeders, scientists, etcetera, as needed. Humanity would become efficient, predictable, controlled."
    "Jesus," said Morrell softly. "They were planning to turn the vast majority of the human species into unpeople, even less than clones and espers. Could they really have done it?"
    "Theoretically, yes," said Carrion. "No wonder Lionstone tried to start it up again on Vodyanoi IV."
    "I suppose the plan was for the Emperor and a few selected Families to be the only true living humans," said Silence. "With everyone else programmed from birth to serve them faithfully all their days. There would never have been any Rebellion. The population quite literally wouldn't have been able to conceive of the idea. If they could have made it work… we'd have become ants. Insects serving the Hive. But Marlowe stopped them. Hell. Maybe he is our Savior, after all."
    "I don't think so," said Carrion. "He was just a man who couldn't wait. He had to try it out on himself first. To see if nanotech could be programmed to make him more than human. A superhuman."
    "And if you raise Humanity to the highest point, through endless evolutions… you get a god," said Barron. "Or at least, the Son of God."
    "I am getting a really bad headache just thinking about the implications of all this," said Morrell, grimacing. "Let's try focusing on some of our more immediate problems. Jesus; do you know anything about the crews of the Shub and Hadenmen ships orbiting this planet?"
    "Of course," said Jesus, still smiling his warm and loving smile. "I know everything. The creatures of flesh and metal, and the machines that thought they thought. They both came here looking for power, but none of them could cope with what they found. Their minds were too small. Too limited. Too inflexible. And so they all died. It was very sad. Would you like to speak with them?"
    The landing party took it in turns to look at each other. "Would that be possible?" said Silence carefully.
    "All things are possible here, in this best of all possible worlds," said Jesus.
    "Behold; I will raise them from the dust for you."
    He gestured with one graceful, nail-pierced hand, and the ground before him trembled. It split jaggedly apart, a deep crevice opening up, and from the depths rose a Fury and two Hadenmen. They hung for a moment above the gap, held supported in the air by Jesus' will, and then the ground snapped together again under their feet. The Fury was bare of its usual flesh covering, its steel gleaming bluely in the bright sunlight. The two Hadenmen stood inhumanly still, their eyes glowing golden, their faces utterly blank. The three figures seemed
    solid and real but somehow empty, like great toys waiting for their instructions. Silence decided he'd start with the Fury. A machine's perception of this unnatural world might provide useful new insights.
    "You came here from Shub," he said slowly. "Tell us what happened."
    "Illogical," said the machine, in a flat grating voice. "Illusions. Madness. We were called, by a voice whose orders could not be denied. We came down to this world, and nothing made sense. Logic does not function here. It became necessary for Shub to break