Waking Gods (Themis Files, #2)

by Sylvain Neuvel

I know everyone is worried about me. My mother told me she would pray for me. You don’t do that for someone who’s doing great. I didn’t want to upset her, so I said thank you. My faith has never been really strong, but even if it were, I know there’s no God coming to help me.

I may believe in God, but I’m at war with Him. I’m a scientist, I try to answer questions, one at a time, so there’s a little less room for Him as the answer. I plant my flag, and inch by inch, I take away His kingdom. It’s odd, but none of this has ever occurred to me before. I never even saw a real contradiction between science and religion. I see it now, I see it clear as day. I’ve crossed that line we’re not supposed to cross. I died. And I’m still here. I cheated death. I took away God’s power. I killed God and I feel empty inside.

You open with profound and inspiring so that, twenty years from now, people can feel clever quoting you around the dinner table. If there is something you want people to understand today, say it like you are addressing your grandchildren. Half the people in that room will hear you through an interpreter, and most have the attention span of a five-year-old. When they leave the room, these people will call home. They will probably talk to their defense ministers, their top generals, their chiefs of staff, people with an army at their disposal who are itching to use it. You are asking them to trust a group of scientists before their own military advisors. Make sure the reason for that is not lost in translation.

I don’t like scientists. Scientists are like children: They always want to know everything, they all ask too many questions, and they never follow orders to the letter.

Who knows? I might be in desperate need of medication. Believing you’re the only person with their head on straight is usually not a sign of good mental health.

If I grab a bunch of matter, anywhere, and I organize it in exactly the same way, I get…you. You, my friend, are a very complex, awe-inspiring configuration of matter. What you’re made of isn’t really important. Everything in the universe is made of the same thing. You’re a configuration. Your essence, as you call it, is information. It doesn’t matter where the material comes from.

—In the late 1800s, the French anarchist Émile Pouget submitted a report at a labor congress in France in which he advocated for work slowdowns, a strategy that had proved successful in Britain. The British unionists referred to the slowdown policy as Ca’Canny, which did not translate directly into French. However, the French had long likened slow and clumsy work to that of a man wearing wooden shoes, or sabots, and Pouget, in his report, coined the term sabotage.

—And what have you done for her? —Not sure what you mean. —Have you altered your expectations in any way? —Expectations about what? —Life, love. What it means to be a couple, a family? It may not be any of my business, but I get the impression that she has seriously altered her expectations about a great many things in order to meet yours. Perhaps you could meet her halfway.

Yes. I want kids. Someday. That doesn’t mean I want the person I love to turn into something she’s not. —I understand your point of view, but, if Ms. Resnik is contemplating motherhood, she might have her own expectations of what it means to be a mother, a good mother. Those might not be compatible with her former self. —Kara’s a smart woman. She knows there are many ways to be a good mother. —Before Ms. Resnik became…Ms. Resnik, she was a little girl, with a mother of her own. No relationship is perfect, and I imagine that this little girl knew exactly what kind of person she wished her mother to be. Do not underestimate how powerful the wishes of that little girl are, to this day.

No offense, Kara, but I don’t think either of us will get to grow old, especially if we’re together. The only question is: Do I wanna die young with anyone else?

Some would say she has instinct. —That’s one way to put it. —It is not the first time her impulsive nature has paid dividends. There are very few people whose careful planning I trust more than her improvisation.

They raped and killed a whole lot of people that day. There couldn’t have been more than a hundred men left on the street, in the whole town. No one did anything. No one tried. Everyone just…hoped for the best.

And therein lies the fundamental difference between us. You would not sacrifice your principles for a greater good. I would not stop to think about it. I am…pragmatic, and you, Dr. Franklin, are an idealist. —Is that such a bad thing? —Not at all. What would people like me do without ideals to defend? —I think you’re having a crisis of conscience because you’ve crossed one line too many and you’re trying to rationalize everything that brought you here. You did what you did because you thought it was right. —I did what I did because I thought there was a small chance it might save people. I never thought for a second that it was right.

I offer tranquility of the mind. People choose to believe I am part of a greater entity because it lets everyone sleep better at night. The world we live in is terrifying. There is war, global warming, disease, poverty, terrorism. People are scared. Everyone is. That is especially true of powerful people. They are scared of the world and the part they play in it. They are petrified, paralyzed by responsibility, unable to choose for fear of making the wrong choice. I offer exoneration, peace of mind. I peddle God in the form of an all-knowing, all-powerful global institution that will right every wrong and keep the world safe.

I keep forgetting if you’re reading this, then it’s a good bet I’m dead. It’s hard to write as a dead person. What can I tell you? Hi! I’m dead! I hope you’re not! Best, Kara.

I know your dad wasn’t everything you wanted him to be. Don’t let that change you. Don’t try to be like him. Don’t try to not be like him. Be you. Remember how unhappy I was awhile back? I didn’t even know I was, but I was. It was because I thought I had to be someone else. It wasn’t your fault. You never asked me to change anything. In fact, I’m pretty sure you weren’t happy I did. I know I did it to myself. I guess what I’m saying is: Don’t do what I did. Don’t become something you’re not because you think that’s the right thing, or the “normal” thing to do.

They believe there is a purpose to life, and that no one should interfere with that purpose—that things should be the way they should be. —I’m pretty sure they used that argument in Louisiana and Maryland. I’d say anyone who feels they have the right to dictate what someone else’s genetics should look like is feeling pretty superior.