Chronicle of Nautilus

Chapter 5: A Weapon of Choice

A skinny man sat naked in a cold shower, a shiny large knife lay loosely in his hand. He tightened the grip, lifted it up and, using both hands, pushed it gently into the pale skin of his leg. After a slow, diagonal slice, a river of blood mixing with water, spilled down. The pain was excruciating. He let it in - slowly all haze in his mind drifted away. No more filthy desires, no more unclean thoughts. Only a sharp mind and strong focus on his task remained.  Daemien Verau knew that today he would fulfill his destiny. Not all criminals and sinners got a second chance at redemption, but he did. God would let him be his weapon of choice today, a weapon to destroy this unholy place. People no longer heard the voice of God but Daemien had listened for a long time until it came to him

The Voice told him many things he did not know. It told him the truth about the mission the Navigator was carrying out, it spoke about the evil of human nature, it guided Daemien and opened his eyes.

As a punishment for his boisterous youth, Daemien had to work at the engines of the ship, where radioactivity and pollution were at high levels. Before he was sent to rot in that hell hole, they did something to him, something unholy, said it would help to resist the poison. He hated that place, hated his job, hated his life, yet he endured. There was no other choice. He saw what happened to his colleague when he refused to slave - the scum changed him. The next day the guy came to the work excited and happy. They made a damn clown out of him.

Daemien had to avoid the scum at all costs. He wanted to be only himself and nobody else.

After fifteen years as a commendable worker he was promoted to the operator of engine number two. God laid a perfect path to Daemien's destiny. It could not have been a coincidence.

All those filthy leaders that sent them away, all those false prophets talking about the promised future, all those drones that have no soul - people unworthy of saving. Today they would all find out that their false path ended here.

The man stood up and wiped his wet body with a towel. Each time after cleansing his soul, he would feel the exciting tingling in his head - a sense of calmness and love. Only when he was filled with light and joy, would the Voice talk to him. Their conversations guided him to this day. When no one was talking to Daemien, the Voice did.

He used medicine tape to cover the wound, dressed up and went to have a breakfast by a large glass window. The view was decent, it would have been better if someone had cut ‘those damn trees’, standing between here and panorama, according to Daemien.

The coffee he drank was a poor substitute for the natural one, but vegetarian food was natural and nutritious. Those drones at the greenhouses tried so hard to make the life of other drones worthwhile. Surprisingly, they did a good job - Daemian could easily get salad or tomatoes or any other vegetables he desired, they came clean and fresh. There was only one strange issue Daemien had, the meat he ever tried to eat was tasteless and he could not understand why.

 Daemien was taken to this ship when he was seven years old, together with his mother. He was the reason his mother was saved. Getting on the ship was difficult - wealth did not help, only diligent and bright people got in. His mother was neither of those, but she wanted to survive. Only the brightest of the children were allowed to bring their parents.  So she added some drugs to Daemiens diet that would increase his mental capabilities. That way he would get great scores and pass the tests to become a young, promising member of the ship. He should have become a senior engineer or a head of some vital department. 

 Mental drugs were often used when errors were not an option - for evaluation of safety precautions of mining operations or for planning the orbits of space stations in asteroid fields. The drugs had many side effects. One of them was memory loss. Perhaps he was a good child, he could not remember it.  Daemien was happy he could not remember many things. Those memories could not have been beautiful anyways. He could not imagine feeling joy without the Voice.