“Are you sure you wish to proceed, Blessed Mother?” Brother Jericho asked, with his squad of Inquisitors behind. “I do not trust the word of these heretics.”

“Relax,” Evelyn said. “This is one of the Councilors of Pandemonium we’re dealing with. She isn’t stupid enough to gun me down on sight. Not unless she plans on having Elysium’s missile batteries launched her way.”

“I am more concerned that you’d be taken hostage.” He grunted. “We should at least have contacted Father Abraham.”

“Didn’t he tell you to listen to my orders?”

“Yes, but–”

“But, nothing,” Evelyn countered. “What does God say about these affairs? ‘“Trust in the Lord and his shepherds with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.’”

He grit his teeth. “You are correct, Blessed Mother. I shall trust in your judgment.”

Evelyn allowed herself a smirk. That’s right, Abraham. Two can play this game now.

She marched forth, holding a piece of white cloth up high. Red beams tore through the smoke of the latest firefight, landing on her soft living face. Their owners hid behind telescopic scopes, the dots focused on her. But they did not shoot.

The smoke lessened. A whitestone ring rose in front, surrounding the roadway leading in, with the walls and windows reinforced by rebar beams. Debris and cover had been cleared at the start of the conflict, and a series of turrets were propped onto the roof. From a strictly strategic point of view, approaching this structure without a well-equipped army would be doomed to fail. Heavy caliber rifles, ballistic shielding for the defenders, mortars at the ready. All paths in left attackers vulnerable from multiple sides at once.

Such was to be expected from Pandemonium’s Central Bank.

It took a few minutes relaying back and forth before her message came through. A pair of soldiers with riot shields popped out first as a vanguard, SMGs in hand.

Then Evelyn watched the leader of this fortress approach. The wheels of her chair squeaked as Fran rolled into the open, her otherwise feeble body shrouded under bulletproof armor, made even smaller by the riot helmet strapped to her head. As if trying to win a contest in absurdity, a snubnosed revolver sat to one side of her wheelchair while a shotgun had been strapped to the back.

Fran blinked in confusion once close enough. “Aren’t you the human that Leah brought to this city?”

“I am,” Evelyn said.

“Quite the wardrobe change.”

“I could say the same for you.”

She chuckled. “Aren’t you a breath of fresh air?” She folded her arms across her legs. “Well, you’re the one who called me out here, so let’s get on with this. What do you want from me?”

“I need you to surrender, Fran.”

“Oh? Would you like me to perform cunnilingus on you while we’re at it? From what I understand, your sex organs are far more pronounced than mine.” She squinted. “Though you’re looking a little more haggard than last I saw you.”

Evelyn blushed, the blood rising to her cheeks. “I’m serious. This violence has gone on long enough.”

Fran yawned. “You can tell Father Abraham that if he wishes to negotiate with me, he can do so directly. Sending his new pet won’t change the dynamic that he and I have established.”

“I’m not here for him,” she said. “This is about everyone else.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“What you’re doing here isn’t helping, Fran. It’s only getting more people purged.”

“If anyone is not helping in this crisis, it is your acquiescence to them. You’re an outsider, human, and you should learn to not meddle in the affairs of your hosts.”

Evelyn smirked. “Am I an outsider? Because that snubnosed revolver you have is a gift from Hades. He knew that no one else would be better prepared to defend this library, especially because you’re one of the only rezzers in existence who started building their Rez off of reading books alone. That chair you’re sitting in was also rebuilt by Tesla before Hades put him down. And those glasses you’re wearing are unnecessary now that your retinas have been fixed, courtesy of Mother.”

The reddish liquid formed at the edge of her eyes as Fran grit her teeth.

“You’re asking yourself how I know all this, right?” Evelyn continued. “Because I was here, Fran. Back when Pandemonium was first founded, when you rezzers came together with an idea of building a community for your race, I was that forgettable child wearing a gas mask at Mother’s side. I watched this city explode from the ruins left behind to become the thriving metropolis it is today.” She stared deep. “Do you still think I don’t have a dog in this fight?”

Fran said nothing for a moment as she contemplated everything Evelyn said.

It had been more than that. Mother rescued Evelyn from the monsters who’d killed her father, but it wasn’t until Mother’s Grace became secure that she tasted rest again. Rezzers were incapable of sleep, and their war party moved constantly in search of new victims, so trying to keep up with their nightmarish pace was nigh impossible for a girl her age. She’d lost count of all the times when she almost got outed and killed by one of Leah’s Hunters.

But then the Styx was erected, and Pandemonium was finished. The city. The sanctuary. A place to slow down. Not just for them, but for Evelyn too. Finally, she could close her eyes again and know that ephemeral peace.

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“If what you say is true,” Fran said, “then how in the hell could you be willing to surrender to these invading barbarians?”

“Look around you. Elysium has fallen and the rest of the Council has surrendered. Charon returned to his normal duties, Sinclair is helping to coordinate a rebuild in infrastructure, and Stein still treats anyone who comes through his door, Beholder or not. You’re the only hold-out left.”

“Spineless curs, the lot of you!” she barked. “You might enjoy bowing down to them, but I’m perfectly content holding the line until everyone gets over this ‘the Lord’ fad.”

“The Lord killed Leah,” Evelyn pointed out. “We all witnessed His power!”

Fran hmph’d. “We might have watched the same phenomenon unfold, but where you ascribe this event to divinity, I see no more than rocks falling down a hill.”

“How can you say that? That cliff gave out the moment Leah went in to assassinate Father Abraham. You heard her. It happened exactly as he said it would!”

“The Greeks would often sacrifice a goat to appease their goddess of fertility. The Hindi thought the sun was carried on the back of Surya’s chariot, and he would only continue doing so if they believed in this power. What makes your theory more compelling than theirs?”

She grunted. “For starters, they didn’t have an entire ridge fall on them for disobeying.”

But she merely looked down her nose. “For all the insight that your healthy mind has given you, human, you’ve wasted quite a lot of your reservoir on this nonsense. The sun will rise tomorrow, a rain will come, and sometimes, landslides occur of their own accord. Surely, you don’t think yourself bold enough to claim knowledge of the full picture when you’ve only been presented a fraction of it?”

“I’m not claiming to have all the answers, Fran. Not about the power of the Lord, who He supports, or why He does it.” She didn’t even know where she fit into all this. Not anymore. “But I do know one thing for certain: the longer you drag this fight out, the more people will die.”

“Father Abraham would see this library burned down, along with everything inside. Death is a necessary cost to keep that from happening.”

“To what end? So you can keep a couple books around? The Beholders don’t care about your wealth. They don’t care about your concept of wealth. All they want is the violence to stop so we can come back together, as one united front.”

Fran scrunched her face in disgust. “Is that all you view this building as? No more than my personal piggy bank?”

She crossed her arms. “Like I said, this isn’t my first ride in this town. Whether you’ll admit it or not, you’re terrified that if you cede authority to someone else, they will use it against you, and then you’ll be as vulnerable as any other worker.

“And you know what? You’re right, but not in the way you think. I’ve been to their camp, and I’ve seen just how much can get done if you put aside your differences and work together. You may not like what the Beholders promote or how they do it, but there is no denying that it works. Is that such a bad thing?”

“You pitiful, ignorant simpleton. Such is to be expected from Mother’s daughter, I suppose.” Fran closed her eyes and breathed deep. “Oh sure, you must think that the future of this world can only be found between your legs, but that misses the point entirely. True immortality would never be gained through mindless procreation alone.

“Do you know why books were made as the base of our currency? Because they contain the most powerful resource that humanity has ever produced. Knowledge. That is what separates you from apes, and what gives the two of us commonality, despite our incompatible physiology.” She scoffed. “Consider this conversation for the luxury it is. The English language isn’t some blessing from the heavens. We earned it through the evolution of countless generations.”

Fran pointed behind. “And this complex contains more books than anywhere else. Not even the Library of Congress or all its international derivations could hold a candle to what I’ve put together. It has been cultivated into a post-apocalyptic Babylon, dedicated to ensuring the continuity of the human race and everything it created. Not just through cold technological progress, but through culture. Through art!

“The Beholders want to get rid of that. They want to burn every article in this building which does not support their Holy Word. Delusional barbarians, just like their bigoted ancestors. From the Qin Dynasty to the Third Reich, there have always been those amongst us who view knowledge with disdain and ignorance as power.”

She clenched a fist. “Twain, Dickinson, Verne, Kafka, Faulkner, Joyce… All legendary reservoirs whose owners have long since expired. Whose voices would see destruction were we to not stay the course. No, I won’t go willing into the night, human. They deserve to be protected. They have earned their immortality more than I or anyone else!”

Evelyn blinked back some tears, seeing the futility of this conversation. “But you’ll die…”

To that, she cackled. “Oh, sweetie. I have been the administrator of this Bank since the damned thing was built. I’ve lived through a dozen coup attempts and more riots than I can remember. You should worry about your own future and that of your children, if that is your real concern.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Fran beamed. “Ask yourself why you came down here today. It wasn’t to lecture me on the value of life. Not when you have several of your own to consider. Isn’t that right?” She narrowed her gaze. Her nostrils flared. “I can smell it on you.”

Evelyn clutched her stomach and gaped. Could that be true?

But before she could finish the thought, Fran’s radio went off.

“Boss,” one of her henchmen said, “we’ve got movement on the East side.”

Fran pulled the radio close. “Beholders?”

“No. Looks like that gang is back. Think they’re planning another raid.”

“So it goes then.” She turned to Evelyn. “Well, looks like that is enough conversation for today. Do come back if you ever get your head screwed on correctly, human. This was an interesting change of pace.” She pressed the radio close. “You know what to do up there. Light ‘em up!”

Gunshots and explosions echoed out. Fran’s guards rushed in front, holding their riot shields up high. The Inquisitors closed the gap soon after, dragging Evelyn away from the firefight. She could still hear the sound of Fran laughing like a maniac as they turned the corner.

“Are you alright, Blessed Mother?” Jericho asked once clear.

She wasn’t. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Have those heretics seen reason?”

Evelyn shook her head.

“It is okay. You did the Lord’s work today. When the seven bowls of judgment are poured, it is them who will be filled with regret.”

She said nothing, only stroked her abdomen instead. Fran’s final words echoed in her mind, and she could not shy away from this truth. The recurring morning sickness… The cramps… Her sensitivity to light and sound. Yes, the timing matched that night when her and Liam were last intimate together. Evelyn knew these sensations all too well.

She’d experienced them with her first child.