Edward Lee [Lee - In the Year of Our Lord 2202

IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD: 2202

Edward Lee

Necro Publications

2019

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In the Year of Our Lord: 2202 2001, 2019 by Edward Lee

Cover art 2019 by David G. Barnett

This edition 2019 Necro Publications

ISBN: 978-1-944703-76-9

LCCN: 2019940622

Book design & typesetting:

David G. Barnett

www.fatcatgraphicdesign.com

Assistant editors:

Amanda Baird-Schmidt

Necro Publications

necropublications.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, or his agent, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a critical article or review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper, or electronically transmitted on radio or television.

All persons in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance that may seem to exist to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.

Ebook formatting & cover design:

David G. Barnett

Fat Cat Graphic Design

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Necro Publications

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Sanford, FL 32771

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If youre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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For Ann & Kelly Laymon

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As always, my career is in debt to far too many to name here, but for this, I need to thank the late, great Richard Laymonone, for inviting me into this project, and, two, for his innumerable gestures of friendship.

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Part One

I make peace and create evil:

I the Lord God do all these things.

Isaiah 45:7

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(I)

Almost off-shift. The last hour always dragged on and on.

Sharon looked at the CF Standard Time chronometer above the cove transom. Ten minutes to go. A passive vid-port occupied the entire exterior sidewall of the cove: a giant moving mural blooming with stars and space. Every data center on board had oneto induce the crew to muse upon the immensity of God. But Sharon knew that the vision would make the last minutes of her shift seem like an hour. If Captain-Reverend Peter had been away as he usually was, the other techs wouldve left by now. But you dont take off early when the boss is in.

Not that Sharon wouldve left early, anyway. She owed the Christian Federate a full shift, so thats what it would get. Unlike Susanna and Kim and Leslie. They were usually long gone on mid-shifts when Peter had business elsewhere on the ship. Sharon liked the cove better when she had it to herself. Susanna, Kim and Leslie werent exactly horrible; Sharon supposed they were fairly typical data integrators: capable but not very ambitious, friendly enough when not obsessing over their hair and nails. And they only attended Mass once a week, the minimum mission requisite.

Shut away in his master cove with one of his diagnostic assistants, Captain-Reverend Peter couldnt see that Susanna was covertly applying lavender nail polish as the final minutes of the work day ticked down. Nor that Leslie was checking her lipstick in a holomirror. Nor that Kim was speaking quietly on the comm, probably to one of her several male acquaintances.

Theyve been at this job a lot longer than me, Sharon thought. Before you know it, maybe Ill be growing two-inch nails and

No way.

It all seemed vain to her. Most makeup had been banned years ago, when the Exploratory Corp had changed the hair regs (bald for males, one-inch cuts for females). Lipstick and nail polish were still allowed provided that the colors met code. Sharon thought it looked whorish, though. She wished theyd change the regs again and just get rid of it all. Were Christian servants, not models from the old days.

She looked at the clock again.

Five minutes til 1700.

Its never going to end.

Over the intercom, the familiar, sedate voice flowed: the thrice-daily off-shift blessing.

In themin the heavens and the starshath He set a tabernacle for the faithful. His going forth is from the end of heaven, where there is nothing hid, and none shall travail.

Psalms, Sharon guessed. With a few edits!

Precious servants, go in peace, the voice bid.

To love and serve the Lord, she finished, not surprised that her cove mates hadnt joined her in the reply.

Sharons comm buzzed. In the quiet of the late-shift cove, the sudden noise made her flinch. She reached across her desk and picked up the comm. Data Regiment, Spec 4 Sharon speaking. May I help you?

Im gonna get you.

The voice of the man on the comm sounded malicious. Underneath Sharons shift utilities, goosebumps scurried up the skin of her back. Her breasts went crawly and her nipples hardened.

Excuse me? she asked.

Im gonna get you, Sharon.

Sharon was irate. This is an illegal communication! Identify yourself immediately!

Im gonna get you NOW.

Dead air. He was gone.

Sharon slammed the comm down and jerked her hand away.

Kim, her own comm still to her ear, swiveled on her grav chair and frowned at Sharon. Got a problem? Kim always said thatwhen she was annoyed, which was most of the time. She and Sharon had been dom-mates for the last four sub-light missions; Sharon knew her habits fairly well.

That call, Sharon murmured.

Ive got a call of my own, honey. You wanna hold it down?

Sorry.

The cove entry swung open and a man stepped in.

Him.

Sharon knew it had to be him. He was bald, like all male regulars, and he wore yellow Class I utilities, a subordinate loader or r-dock worker. He mustve made the call from the central accessmain, probably with an illegal comm unit.

He wasnt holding a comm unit, though.

He was holding a high-amp milliwave pistol.

Susanna, whose desk was nearest the manway, normally greeted visitors with, May I help you? Today, however, she dropped her nail polish. The bottle thunked on her desktop and rolled.

Im here to see Sharon, the man said.

The same voice shed heard on the comm.

Susanna nodded, swiveled, pointed a trembling finger toward the rear of the data cove. Straight at Sharon. Th-thats her.

Thanks, the man said and shot Susanna in the side of the head. As the gun bucked, the noise of its half-second discharge crackled in Sharons ears. Meanwhile, her colleagues head seemed to erupt from one temple, ejecting cooked brain matter and steaming blood.

Just as the man was pressing the recharge switch, Sharon threw herself to the floor behind her desk.

Her knees pounded the floor. Another discharge crackled through the cove. But Sharons reactions werent what she wouldve expected. She didnt go numb with terror. She didnt ask herself who this man might be or why he had barged into the cove to kill people. He was a fact. A horrible fact like a fifty-ton mag-lev pallet suddenly bearing down on her head-on.

Deal with it or die.

She flinched as another blast crackled through the office. But

The security signal button. Ive got to hit the security signal.

Then two more very quick shots.

God on High, save me

Sharon popped up from behind the desk, jerked forward, and hit the glowing security tab on her holo- screen, just as

KRIIIIIIIIIISH

another milliwave discharge burned a half inch from her cheek.