Ever since Danide

was very, very young,

his mother has told him that

one magical day,

a shining man will

knock on the door

and take him away

on his divine path.

“No, mama!”

Danide exclaims,

every time she mentions it.

“I’m staying with you

forever!”

His mother laughs.

He loves his mother.

She is soft, and warm,

and always smells like fresh bread.

“Don’t be foolish,

Danide!”

His mother says.

“That’s the way it’s done.”

Danide and his mother

live in a small, one room cottage

in Farm #31,

a slave-breeding facility

in the Ambari province,

near the city of Trimontium.

Slavery in He-Thing’s time

is considered highly enlightened

compared to the barbarous state

of the institution

during the time

of Epux.

People

no longer bother themselves

with the moral qualms

of the bondage of the black race,

as it is generally considered

humane,

logical,

and, most importantly,

essential

to civilization.

On Danide’s seventh birthday,

his mother bakes him

a chocolate cake,

and she sings to him

as he blows out the candles.

It is summer,

and he is filled with so much

happiness

that he even feels compassion

for the cloud of mosquitoes

hovering excitedly around him.

There is a knock on the door.

Danide’s mother

levels her eyes at her son.

“Go see who it is, Danide,”

she says.

A shining white man,

dressed in gold robes,

stands at the door.

Danide has never seen

a white man before.

“You must be Danide,”

says the man,

smiling

with his bright blue eyes.

“Yes...” says Danide, bashfully.

“I am Shovid the Bridge-Maker,”

says the white man,

“Are you ready to embark

on your divine destiny, Danide?”

Danide looks back

to his mother.

Her eyes are strange.

“Life is a series of goodbyes, baby,”

she says.

Danide rides in the back

of a high-speed hovercraft

driving east across the Iron Plains.

Another black boy his own age

sits next to him.

Danide asks,

“Where are they taking us?”

“To Hell,” the other boy says,

stoically.

Danide stares out the window.

He has never been outside

Farm #31 before,

and the world is suddenly

thousands of times

larger.

He feels very alone

and small.

Shovid the Bridge-Maker

sits up front

next to the driver.

No one speaks.

The humming vibration

of the hovercraft’s sorcery-engine

makes Danide’s rump go to sleep,

and he shifts in his chair to be

more comfortable.

He looks to the other boy again.

“I’m Danide,” he says.

The other boy does not reply.

The hovercraft arrives

at a small slave-processing facility

built into the orange iron dust

outside Lecht.

The two boys exit the hovercraft,

and Shovid the Bridge-Maker

leads them

to a small chapel,

where inside they join

nine other black boys

the same age as Danide

waiting anxiously on benches.

Shovid the Bridge-Maker

takes his place by the altar

and speaks to the boys —

“It is a great honor for me,”

he says,

in a voice smooth as polished wood,

“To guide you boys

on your first steps

towards your divine destinies.”

Shovid continues,

“We are all gifted

with our unknowable fates

the day the All-or-Nothing

grants us breath,

but the Word provides us

with hope.

In the beginning,

the Great Father

created the First Man,

Alam,

in His own image.”

Shovid smiles at his

congregation.

“And Man carries that image

of the All-or-Nothing

inside him

in every step he takes.”

“The Great Father,”

Shovid preaches,

“had created the First Man

embodied in whiteness

like the Divine White Light

that shines

in the All-or-Nothing’s heart.”

“And,” Shovid points out,

“the Great Father knew,

as he knows all,

that Man would be lonely,

so he created Woman

to be his companion.”

The Bridge-Maker smiles widely,

and outstretches his hands,

as though he is embracing the boys.

“Then, the All-or-Nothing created the

other races of Man

to serve His chosen people,

the White Man and Woman,

for He knew they would need

servants

and slaves.”

“But,”

Shovid instructs the boys,

“We must remember

what the Word says —

For each man

has been fashioned a destiny

by the All-or-Nothing’s

knowing hands,

and none is any lesser

than any other.”

Danide listens carefully,

but is thinking of his mother —

the way she paints her fingernails

with an ink she makes from

berries from a bush behind their cottage,

the way she hums to herself

when she stands cooking over the hearth,

the wetness of her lips

when she kisses him goodnight.

He looks at the other boys,

who all look as fearful

as he feels.

“We have brought you here today,”

Shovid the Bridge-Maker continues,

“Because it is time

for you to begin preparing

for your divine roles

in our holy society.”

Side doors in the chapel

open

and four priestesses come bearing

fat golden pillows,

upon which sit

black rings

of steel.

Shovid plucks one of the rings

from a pillow,

and holds it up in the air

in exaltation.

“This is your debt

to the Great Father,

for blessing you

with life.”

Danide recognizes the ring immediately —

it is identical to the one his mother wears

around her neck.

Shovid the Bridge-Maker

expands his arms in welcome.

“Rise, boys, line up before me,

and assume your divine destinies.”

The boys get up hesitantly.

They glance at each other

in shame.

They line up.

Danide is second in line.

He watches

as the boy ahead of him bends

his head

and Shovid snaps

a control collar

around his neck.

“Good!” Shovid says with pride,

“Next!”

Danide stands shaking

as he looks up into

the fervent eyes

of Shovid the Bridge-Maker.

Tears spill out

of his own eyes.

“Do not weep, boy!”

Shovid tells him.

“You have a glorious future

ahead of you.“

”I am ready to serve

the Great Father,”

Danide says,

the earth dropping out

beneath his heart.

“And you will,”

Shovid tells him.

to be continued...