The God Complex: The Book Of Alan, Destroyer Of Worlds

Chapter Thirty-Five

President Abaddon stood on the ramp of his shuttle, surrounded by a wall of personal bodyguards and watched the circus unfold. He was in no immediate danger, it just disgusted him to be that close to the general population.

As he stood there trying not to breathe in their germs, he didn't care about God, he didn't care about the perilous situation humanity now found themselves in, and he certainly didn't care about the thousand deaths he just witnessed - as he stood on the ramp of his shuttle, looking out at the billions of people in front of him, like a swarming ocean of ants, all he cared about was how they lapped up everything God did. How they cheered and called his name, forgiving him everything because he gave them the miracle of some lousy food.

All that power, all that fear, all that adulation - It was rightfully his and he wanted it back.

When it was all over, he shook his head and walked back up the ivory ramp into his shuttle, contemplating his next move. He'd seen that sort of power before, mostly in a few backward countries back on Earth, but nothing on this scale.

Taking Alan head on would be suicide, that much was obvious, but if he was clever, he wouldn't need to take on Alan at all.

He could hear his Granddaddy yelling at him now, "boy, It don't matter what the truth is. All that matters is what those idiots out there believe the truth is, you heed me?"

Who was this Susan the Unworthy and what could she offer God that he can't? What he needed was for the people to believe he was God's equal, to position himself as God's emissary, God's right-hand man, someone God would need to keep happy if he wanted to maintain his popularity.

He smiled a terrible, calculating smile.

He could smell the weakness of vanity a mile away and this God was practically swimming in it. If he wanted to play Roman Emperor, fine, if he wanted to build a Colosseum for the peasants to shed their blood for him, fine. But if he wanted their love, then he would have to go through Buzz Abaddon.

He called for his team and moments later, Stone and Madison walked in and seated themselves around the expensive oval table. They were two of the most fearsome female assassins he had ever had the pleasure to work with.

Assassins in the literal sense, of course, but they were also political assassins, social assassins, emotional assassins, people who could make you do whatever they wanted, simply by applying the right pressure at the right time. He found women were so much better at this sort of thing than men, so much more finesse about their work.

'Have you neutralized the Cain situation yet?'

'It's being dealt with, sir,' replied Stone, 'there were... unforeseen circumstances.'

'See that it is,' he said lighting his cigar, 'Now, I assume y'all saw that out there? Course you did, little difficult to miss, wasn't it?'

They sat in professional silence, notepads and pens in hand.

'Well I liked it. I did. God has appeared before our very eyes and he's cleansing humanity of its sinners, and in style too.

'The Tasks of Redemption,' he arched his hand across the sky as if imagining it on the front of a billboard on Time Square.

'Has a ring to it, doesn't it? Which is why we're going to embrace it, we're going to show this Alan how we do things in the 21st century and dedicate every aspect of S News to it. I'm talking 24 hour rolling coverage with repeats on catch-up and full comslink and shuttle integration. I'm talking pre-show entertainment, multiple cameras catching all the action. I'm talking an army of micro influencers posting on all social channels. Let's take these champions and turn them into celebrities - I want back stories, narratives and conflict. I'm talking leader boards - let's rank them, score them and judge them. I'm talking heroes and villains, I'm talking post-task interviews, after-show parties, scandal and romance.'

He took a long, lingering puff of his cigar and watched as they meticulously wrote everything down.

'The Tasks of Redemption are all they're going to talk about, so we're going to tell them what to think. We're going to tell them who to like and who to hate, just like we did on the campaign trail back in the good ole U.S of A. Tell me, who was the hottest TV talent we had back on Earth?'

'That would be Dominique, sir,' said Madison without looking up.

'Then get me Dominique and brief him - the story is simple: we love Alan, and for now, we love this Susan the Unworthy and our brave Champions. I've been offering paradise to these idiots long before this God showed up, so we align them: God's paradise is my paradise and God's 'Tasks of Redemption' is now an Abaddon Production - we're going to make this Susan broad obsolete.'