The temple of the Technocratia was full.
People arrived in a constant flow through the enormous entrance doors, crossing the monumental hall. Voices echoed softly through the vast space.
Isaac stood near the entrance, greeting each guest.
He wore a black ceremonial robe adorned with metallic lines that subtly reflected the temple’s lights.
— Happy Techmora.
Some visitors shook his hand. Others bowed their heads in respect.
Among them, Randy Crawford entered the temple.
Isaac noticed immediately.
His eyes lit up in recognition.
He walked toward Randy.
— Captain Crawford. It is an honor to receive you.
Randy shook his hand.
— You must be Isaac.
Isaac nodded and made an elegant gesture with his arm.
— Please, follow me. We have special accommodations for authorities.
Everything inside the temple was grand.
Randy, a mere man, felt tiny before the imposing machine. He suspected that this feeling was shared by everyone present, although the others seemed to regard it with far more enthusiasm—without the discomfort he felt.
The two walked across the hall toward a side staircase.
They climbed the steps.
From a mezzanine above, it was possible to see the entire interior of the temple.
— It is an honor to have you at our celebration today, — Isaac said.
They reached a luxurious mezzanine projecting over the auditorium.
From there, the view of the altar was perfect.
— Please, make yourself comfortable.
Randy sat in a comfortable armchair.
Isaac inclined his head slightly.
— Excuse me. I must finish the preparations.
He stepped away.
Randy stood up.
He approached the railing.
Below, people continued to arrive.
The auditorium was filled with dozens—perhaps hundreds—of connection cockpits.
Each one had a small red light.
When someone sat down and connected the cables to their body, the light turned blue.
The sound of the connectors created a mechanical symphony. Although nothing had been rehearsed, a melody seemed to emerge organically.
Randy watched everything with curiosity.
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And a certain astonishment.
The temple lights began to dim.
One by one.
The hall slowly sank into darkness.
Now only the small blue lights of the cockpits remained illuminated.
Hundreds of them.
Like artificial stars.
The celebration was beginning.
The sepulchral silence and the reverence of everyone present made it clear that this was, indeed, a religious rite.
Once again Randy found himself reflecting on the magnitude of the temple.
At that moment, it was easy to believe the machine was a god.
A single light turned on.
Illuminating the altar.
Isaac stood at the center.
A melody began to echo throughout the temple.
It was not sung with words.
Only low voices sustaining long notes.
A choir.
Isaac spoke:
— Caro erratica est, machina exacta est.
— Caro mors est, machina vita est.
He walked toward the central cockpit at the altar.
With a ceremonial gesture, he activated the system.
— Machina nos benedicat!
Instantly, lines of light ran from the cockpits spread across the auditorium to the central cockpit.
As if energy were being channeled into it.
Isaac stepped into the capsule.
He connected the cables to his body.
The choir grew in intensity.
— Fac nos unum cum machina!
The crowd responded in unison:
— Unus cum machina!
Isaac’s eyes lit up.
A bright white light.
Seconds later, the eyes of all the participants began to glow as well.
Randy watched everything in silence.
Amazed.
It was as if each of the faithful present were a cell in a greater organism. All connected, sharing the same purpose.
The lines of light feeding Isaac’s cockpit became more intense.
Some people began to emit soft sounds.
Sounds of pleasure.
Of ecstasy.
Isaac’s cockpit began to rise.
Slowly.
Floating.
Randy frowned, incredulous.
The capsule levitated until it hung just beneath the great symbol of the Technocratia.
Exactly at the center of the temple.
Perfect.
The choir continued.
The participants remained connected, immersed in a state of collective trance.
A small shock traveled slowly through the nervous system. It caused a pain subtle enough to be mistaken for pleasure—a pleasure that, though delicate, remained constant during the connection.
The faces of the people reflected it.
Despite the artificial light illuminating their eyes, their expressions seemed completely satisfied.
Randy observed everything.
Not quite sure what to think.
After the celebration, the lights slowly came back on.
A feeling of well-being among the faithful created a friendly atmosphere.
The Technocratia returned hope to those people—crushed between the gears of the system.
When the temple was fully illuminated again, people had already left the cockpits.
They spoke animatedly.
Greeting each other.
Isaac walked toward Randy.
— I hope you enjoyed our celebration.
Randy gave a small smile.
— It was definitely something I’ve never seen before.
Isaac inclined his head.
— Captain Crawford, I am aware of the suspicions Detective Morgan Jones has regarding the Technocratia. But I can assure you we have no involvement in these crimes.
Randy kept his tone neutral.
— I cannot comment on the investigation. It is still ongoing.
He paused briefly.
— But I can assure you Detective Jones is one of my best.
Isaac nodded politely.
— I only wish to reinforce that we are available for any clarification. If we can help in any way… please do not hesitate to contact us.
He opened his arms slightly.
— Our temple houses the best computers in the country.
Randy smiled politely.
— I’ll remember that.
The brutalism of the architecture sent a slight chill through Randy.
The temple reflected real power.
The possession of all that technology—combined with the faith of all those people—was a mixture that made him deeply uncomfortable.
