Tower of Glass

  Yes.

  What's it called? Krugolatry?

  It doesn't have a name. We talk of it just as the communion. It's very important to us, Manuel. I think it's the most important thing in our lives.

  Do you want to describe—

  Later. Take your clothes off and I'll spray your skin. We can go right now.

  Will it take long?

  An hour, she said. You'll be back home on time, don't worry. If that's what's worrying you.

  I have to be fair to Clissa, I said. She gives me freedom. I don't want to abuse it.

  All right. All right.

  I took off my clothes. Once again Lilith disguised me as Alpha Leviticus Leaper. She had kept the clothes around from the other time; it surprised me that she hadn't given them back to Thor Watchman. As though she knew we'd be playing this masquerade again.

  She said, Before we go, there are some things you have to know. The first is that it's absolutely forbidden for any human to enter a chapel. It's like non-Moslems going to Mecca. For all I know, you may be the first Womb-born who ever went in.

  The first what?

  Womb-born. You're a Child of the Womb. We're Children of the Vat. Yes?

  Oh. Oh. If it's a sacrilege to smuggle me into a chapel, why are you doing it? Don't you take the rules seriously?

  Very seriously.

  Then why?

  Because I feel I can make an exception for you, Manuel. You're different. I told you that once, remember? You don't put androids in some special sub-class of humanity. I think that inwardly you've been on our side all along, even without being conscious of it. And so it wouldn't be sacrilege to let you understand our religion a little.

  Well, maybe.

  And also you're Krug's son.

  What does that have to do with it?

  You'll see, she said.

  I was flattered. Fascinated. Excited. A little frightened. Am I really that simpatico to android aspirations? Can I be trusted? Why is she breaking the commandment? What is she trying to get from me? Unworthy thought. Unworthy thought. She is doing it because she loves me. Wants to share with me. Her world.

  She said, Anyway, keep in mind that it would be very serious if you were found out. Therefore pretend that you belong in there, and don't act nervous or uncertain of yourself. You were fine in Gamma Town. Be that way here.

  But aren't there certain rites I ought to be familiar with? Genuflections or something?

  I'm coming to that, Lilith said. You'll need a couple of gestures. One of them you already know. Like this.

  Left hand to crotch, breast, forehead, one two three.

  She said, That's the sign of Krug-be-praised. It's an act of homage. You make the sign when you first enter the chapel and when you start to join the prayer, silently or aloud. It's also good to make the sign whenever the name of Krug is mentioned. In fact, the Krug-be-praised sign is appropriate in almost any part of the service, or whenever two androids of the communion meet outside the chapel. Let's see you make it. Go on.

  One two three. Krug be praised.

  Faster. One-two-three.

  One-two-three.

  Good. Good. Now, here's another important sign. Its meaning is Krug-preserve-us, and it's specifically a prayer used in time of tension or doubt. Like saying God help us. You'll use it whenever the text of the service calls for Krug to have mercy on us, Krug to aid us in any way. Whenever we're imploring Krug.

  Krug is really your god, I said, wondering.

  This is the sign. She showed me how to make it. Cup one hand over each breast; then turn the palms outward. And act of contrition: see my soul, Krug! My heart is bare to you. She made the sign several times, and I followed her.

  One more, Lilith said. The sign of submission to the Will of Krug. You'll make it only once, when you first get into line of sight with the altar. Like this. Drop to one knee and reach your arms forward, palms turned up.

  Does it matter which knee?

  Either one. Do it.

  I made the sign of submission to the Will of Krug. I was glad to learn it. Somehow I felt that I'd been submitting to the Will of Krug all my life, without even knowing it.

  Lilith said, Let's make sure you have it all clear, now. When you enter the chapel, what?

  One-two-three. Krug-be-praised.

  Good. Then?

  When I can see the altar, I do the submission to the Will. Down on one knee, hands out, palms up.

  Yes. And?

  When favors are asked of Krug, I do Krug-preserve-us. Hands to breasts, turn hands out. I also do Krug-be-praised from time to time when the name of Krug is mentioned.

  Fine. Fine. You won't have any trouble, Manuel.

  There's another gesture I saw you make in Gamma Town, I said.

  Show me.

  I held my hands up with the palms facing each other about half a meter apart, and wiggled my hips and flexed my knees, making a kind of spiral.

  You did it in Gamma Town, I said, when the mob was getting a little wild.

  Lilith laughed. It's called the Blessing of the Vat, she said. It's a sign of peace and a sign of departure. We do it over a dead person in the final prayer, and we do it when we're saying goodbye to one another in a tense situation. It's one of the holiest signs. And you didn't do it very well. You see, it's based on the double helix of the nucleic acid molecule—genetics, yes?—the way the molecules are coiled. We try to duplicate it with our bodies. This way.

  She did it. I imitated. She laughed.

  I said, I'm sorry. My body just doesn't bend that way.

  It takes practice. You won't have to do it, though. Stick with Krug-be-praised and Krug-preserve-us and you'll be fine. Let's go, now.

  She took me to a shabby part of town in what I think once was a commercial section. It didn't have the nightmare gaudiness of Gamma Town or the stately well-worn look of the part where the alphas live. Just shabby.

  Chapel's over there, she said.

  I saw a storefront, windows opaqued. Couple of betas standing out front doing nothing particular. We started to cross the street. I got shaky. What if they find me out? What will they do? To me? To Lilith?

  I am Alpha Leviticus Leaper.

  The betas stepped aside, making Krug-be-praised, as we came up to them. Eyes lowered, air of respect. The social distances. Lilith would have had a much harder time if I didn't have an alpha's long lean build. My confidence rose. I even made Krug-be-praised at one of the betas.

  We entered the chapel.

  A large circular room. No seats. Carpet of thick soft pseudolife, obviously much knelt-upon in its time. Subdued lighting. I remembered to make Krug-be-praised as I walked. One-two-three.

  A little vestibule. Two steps beyond it I got my first view of the altar. Lilith down on one knee, submission to the Will. I almost didn't need to kneel. I almost fell, amazed.

  The altar: a large square mass of what looked like living flesh, sitting in an ornate plastic tub. Purple fluid in the tub, swirling around and occasionally over this block of pink meat, which is at least a meter high and maybe three meters by two long, wide.

  Behind the altar: my father in hologram. A perfect likeness. Full-size replica, looking at us face-on, stern expression, eyes fiery, lips clamped. Not exactly a god of love. Strong. Man of steel. Because it's a hologram, the eyes follow you; wherever you are in the chapel you're under the gaze of Krug.

  I drop down. I lift the hands. Palms up.

  Submission to the Will of Krug!

  It stuns me. Even though I knew before, I still am stunned. Is it like this all over the world, I ask? Androids salaaming to my father? Barely audible whisper. Yes, she says. Yes. We pay homage. Krug be praised.

  This man whom I have known all my life. This builder of towers, this inventor of androids. A god? I almost laugh. Am I Son of God? I don't fit the role. Obviously no one worships me here. I am an afterthought; I am outside theology.

  We get to our feet. With a tiny gesture of her head Lilith leads me to a plac
e in the back of the chapel, and we kneel. In the darkness I feel comforted. There are perhaps ten, twelve androids in the chapel, all betas except for one male alpha who kneels right before the altar, back to us. I feel less conspicuous with the alpha there. A few more betas come in, making the appropriate gestures. No one pays any attention to us. The social distances.

  Everybody seems deep in private prayer.

  Is this the service, Lilith?

  Not yet. We're a little early. You'll see.

  The eyes of Krug drill into me. He almost does look godlike up there. I glare back at him. What would he say if he knew? He'd laugh. He'd pound his desk. He'd belch with joy. Krug the god! Jehovah Krug! Simeon Allah! By Christ, that's a good one! Why in hell shouldn't they worship me? I made them, no?

  As my eyes grow accustomed to the dimness I examine the pattern on the wall more carefully. It is not, as I first suspected, a purely abstract ornamental design. No: I now see the letters of the alphabet repeated over and over and over, covering every centimeter of wall space. Not all the letters. I run from line to line and see only A, U, G, and C in various combinations, like:

  AUA AUG AUC AUU GAA GAG GAC GAU GGA GGG GGC GGU

  GCA GCG GCC GCU GUA GUG GUC GUU CAA CAG CAC CAU

  So on and so on. What is it, Lilith? The design.

  The genetic code, she says. The RNA triplets.

  Oh. Yes. Suddenly I remember in Gamma Town, the girl slobie addict calling out letters, G A A G A G G A C. I can see them on the wall now. A prayer?

  The sacred language. Like Latin was for Catholics.

  I see.

  But I don't really see. I just accept.

  I say, And what is the altar made of?

  Flesh. Synthetic flesh.

  Live?

  Of course. Straight from the vat, like me or you. Pardon, not like you. Like me. Just a lump of live android flesh.

  What keeps it alive? It's got no organs or anything.

  It gets nutrients from the tank. And injections of something from underneath. But it lives. It grows. It has to be trimmed from time to time. It symbolizes our origin. Not yours. Ours. There's one in every chapel. Smuggled out of the factory.

  Like the rejects.

  Like the rejects, yes.

  And I thought security arrangements were so tight at the android plants, I say.

  Lilith winks at me. I begin to feel like a member of the conspiracy.

  Three androids now enter from the rear of the chapel. Two betas and an alpha, wearing brocaded stoles on which the letters of the genetic code are inscribed. They have a priestly look about them. The service is about to begin. As the three kneel by the altar, everyone else makes Krug-be-praised, and then Krug-preserve-us. I do as they do.

  Are they priests?

  They're celebrants, Lilith says. We don't exactly have a priesthood. We have various castes that play different roles in different ceremonies, according to structure and texture of the ritual. The alpha's a Preserver. He enters a trance that places him in direct communion with Krug. The two betas are Projectors. They amplify his emotional state. At other times you might see Engulfers, Transcenders, or Protectors officiating, with the help of Yielders or Sacrificers or Responders.

  Which caste are you?

  Responder.

  And Thor Watchman?

  Preserver.

  The alpha by the altar began to chant: CAU, UUC, UCA, CGA. CCG, GCC, GAG, AUC.

  Is the whole thing going to be in code?

  No. This is just to establish the texture.

  What's he saying?

  Two betas not far in front of us turn around to glare. Shushing us. They see we are alphas and bite their lips.

  Lilith whispers, more faintly than before, He's saying, Krug brings us into the world and to Krug we return.

  GGC, GUU, UUC, GAG.

  Krug is our creator and our protector and our deliverer.

  UUC, CUG, CUC, UAC.

  Krug, we beseech Thee to lead us toward the light.

  I can't comprehend the code. The symbols don't match the sense. Which symbol is Krug? How does the grammar work? I can't ask Lilith that here. Others are turning to stare. Those noisy alphas back there. Don't they have any respect?

  The Projectors hum deep resonant chords. The Preserver continues to chant code. Lilith now begins to function as a Responder, echoing what is chanted. The lights dim and grow bright. The fluid over the altar bubbles more fiercely. The image of Krug seems to glow; the eyes reach into my soul.

  Now I can understand about half the words of the service. Interspersed with the code, they are asking Krug to redeem the Children of the Vat, to give them freedom, to lift them to the level of the Children of the Womb. They sing about the day when Womb and Vat and Vat and Womb are one. With an infinity of Krug-preserve-us gestures they beg the mercy of Krug. Krug! Krug! Krug! Krug! Everything here orbits around the idea of a merciful Krug!

  I start to see the picture. This is an equality movement! This is an android liberation front!

  Krug our master, lead us to our rightful place beside our brothers and sisters of the flesh.

  Krug bring redemption.

  Krug end our suffering.

  Praise be to Krug.

  Glory be to Krug.

  The service gains intensity. Everyone is singing, chanting, making signs, including several that Lilith never showed me. Lilith herself is wholly absorbed in prayer. I feel isolated, and infidel, an intruder, as I listen to them pray to their creator, my father, who is their god. For long spells the service is conducted entirely in the code-language, but familiar words keep bursting through. Krug descend and redeem us. Krug give your blessing. Krug end this time of testing. Krug we need you. Krug Krug Krug Krug Krug. With each Krug I jump minutely, I twitch in the shoulderblades. I never suspected any of this. How did they keep it so secret? Krug the god. My father the god. And I am Krug too. If Krug dies, what will they worship? How can a god die? Do they preach the resurrection of Krug? Or is Krug on Earth only a transient manifestation of the true Krug on high? From some of the lines of the service, I get that idea.

  Now they are all singing at once, a booming unison:

  AAA AAG AAC AAU be to Krug.

  AGA AGG AGC AGU be to Krug.

  ACA ACG ACC ACU be to Krug.

  They are offering him the whole genetic code, line by line. I follow from a column on the wall. Suddenly I hear my own voice joining the chant:

  GAA GAG GAC GAU be to Krug.

  GGA GGG GGC GGU be to Krug.

  Lilith turns and smiles at me. Her face is flushed and bright, excited, exalted, almost a sexual rapture on it. She nods, encouraging me.

  I sing louder.

  GCA GCG GCC GCU be to Krug.

  GUA GUG GUC GUU be to Krug.

  On and on it goes, the pitch strange, no one hitting any note squarely yet everyone keeping together perfectly, as though androids tune themselves to different intervals on some different scale. I have little trouble adapting, though, and stay with them right to the end, UUA UUG UUC UUU be to Krug.

  We rise. We approach the altar. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Lilith to my left and some beta pressing against my right, we put our hands on that block of living flesh. It is warm and slippery; it quivers as we touch it. Vibrations pass through us. Krug, we chant, Krug, Krug, Krug, Krug.

  The service is over.

  Some of the androids file out. Others remain, looking too exhausted by the experience to leave just yet. I feel that way myself, and I have hardly taken part. An intense religious communion. Religion is said to be dead, a quaint olden custom now lapsed into disuse, but no, not among these people. They believe in higher powers and the efficacy of prayer. They think Krug listens. Does Krug listen? Has Krug ever listened? But they think so. If he does not listen now, they say, he will listen. And will lift them up out of bondage. The opiate of the masses, what? But the alphas also believe.

  To Lilith I say, How long has this been happening, this religion?

  Sinc
e before I was born.

  Who invented it?

  It started here in Stockholm. A group of alphas. It spread rapidly. Now there are believers all over the world.

  Every android believes?

  Not every. The AEP people don't. We ask for miracles and divine grace; they stand for direct political agitation. But we outnumber them. Most of us believe. More than half. Just about every gamma, and most betas, and many alphas.

  And you think that if you keep asking Krug to redeem you, he will?

  Lilith smiles. What else can we hope for?

  Have you ever approached Krug directly?

  Never. You see, we distinguish between Krug the man and Krug the Creator, and we feel—She shakes her head. Let's not talk in here. Someone might listen.

  We start to go out. Halfway to the door she halts, goes back, takes something from a box at the base of the altar. She hands it to me. It is a data cube. She turns it on and I read the words that appear:

  In the beginning there was Krug, and He said, Let there be Vats, and there were Vats.

  And Krug looked upon the Vats and found them good.

  And Krug said, Let there be high-energy nucleotides in the Vats. And the nucleotides were poured, and Krug mixed them until they were bonded one to another.

  And the nucleotides formed the great molecules, and Krug said, Let there be the father and the mother both in the Vats, and let the cells divide, and let there be life brought forth within the Vats.

  And there was life, for there was Replication.

  And Krug presided over the Replication, and touched the fluids with His own hands, and gave them shape and essence.

  Let men come forth from the Vats, said Krug, and let women come forth, and let them live and go among us and be sturdy and useful, and we shall call them Androids.

  I thumb the cube. More of the same. Much more. An android bible. Well, why not?

  Fascinating, I tell Lilith. When was this written?

  They started it years ago. They still add sections now. About the nature of Krug, and the relation of man to Krug.

  The relation of man to Krug. Beautiful.

  She says, Keep it, if you find it interesting. It's for you.

  We leave the chapel. I hide the android bible under my clothes. It bulges.

  At Lilith's flat again. She said, Now you know. Our great secret. Our great hope.