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

Chapter Forty-Two

"SHUTTLE 'S NEWS' UPDATE: With God now absent for over Six weeks, we ask: Because of Susan's deranged outburst at the After Party, does Paradise still Await? And read Clem Dillinger's 10 ways Supreme Leader Abaddon can bring back God."

Susan raised her silver spoon and glared at the congealed porridge staring back at her.

'With this breakfast, I give thanks to Alan, the creator of all things. Wherever he may be.'

She looked around the opulent dining table, in the private observation room, atop the SS KENT COUNTY COUNCIL 4B and felt utterly deflated by its emptiness. It had been a full week since the Captain and his Officers had dined with her. None of them had ever refused point blank, but their excuses were getting more and more elaborate. There were only so many 'emergencies' that require a full class of Officers to attend and Susan suspected that 'issues with the 164th floor's soap dispensers' wasn't one of them.

'To Alan,' she said sadly and dropped her spoon back into the bowl, which replied with a depressing squelch. In the corner of the room, built into the wall, the television was returning to yet another 'S News Susan Special.'

'What now?' She despaired, reaching for the remote.

There was something oddly familiar about the elderly man sitting next to Dominique in the studio. In that there was something familiar about his face but his casual attire somehow jarred with her memory of him, making him look entirely out of place - like seeing your dentist in the gym.

Susan turned up the volume and as soon as she heard his voice, she realised.

It was the Pope.

'You must understand, Dominique,' he said softly in broken English that suffocated under the weight of his Italian accent, 'religion is just another form of á mass hysteria and during hysteria it can be easy for á potential imposter to grip power and control over man. Our history is littered with the charlatans who use the religion to place themselves above their brothers and sisters.'

Dominique nodded his head sagely.

'Take this á Susan. Maybe once, the Heavenly Father shone down his light on her, but now she is in the darkness and we must ask why? Why did she make God leave?'

'Do you think it is because she turned on Abaddon after he kindly offered to help?'

'I do,' said the ex-Pope seriously, holding his hand up as if to recite holy text. 'The world is full of Kings and Queen's, who'll blind your eyes and steal your dreams.'

'Beautiful,' exclaimed Dominique, 'is that from the Book of Alan?'

'No, Black Sabbath,' replied his ex-holiness, 'I've found that now I'm no longer constrained by the church, I've been listening to a lot more Dio.'

'How is retirement going?' smiled Dominique, 'I hear you've taken up golf?'

'Unbelievable,' muttered Susan turning off the TV and pushing the remains of her breakfast away.

Their anti-Susan bias was getting more and more blatant. It was subtle at first: ignoring the content of her sermons and focussing on if her cardigan went with her blouse, or why she couldn't just speak up a bit, or if all this time she had been pronouncing Alan's name incorrectly. Nothing serious but she was surprised at how quickly the comments section escalated.

Now, six weeks in and still no sign of God, she found herself hearing every crackpot theory on how she had driven away God and cost humanity their last chance of redemption and paradise. Questioning if she was the "real" Susan and not an imposter (usually by interviewing another Susan, who claimed they were the real Emissary); questioning if she really understood the word of Alan; questioning if she really was the one who could lead them to a new Earth and always it was followed by a list of more qualified candidates.