Author: Alastair Millar

I was between cons and heading down towards Damascus, Arkansas, when I heard the Word. It being Sunday, the holoscreens in the corners of the diner were showing a syndicated broadcast from one of the Texan megachurches.

“Welcome, friends! Welcome all, whatever your age, sex, gender, ethnicity or degree of cybernetization! The Church of Christ Spacefarer welcomes you!”

The speaker was tall and boyishly handsome; I was pretty sure he was bodysculpted, and to hell with vanity (one way or the other).

“We’re delighted to see you all today, and to share with you a unique and exciting opportunity: the chance to ascend to a truly blessed planet! Yes! As the Lord sent his Messenger to us from the Cosmos, now you can come closer to Him by going forth into the galaxy yourselves! Leave poverty and inequality behind! Move on from being constantly extorted by governments or badgered for handouts by heathens who have not seen the Truth! If you’ve been successful in life, now is the time to reap the rewards! Bring your family to an idyllic world that’s being shaped with Believers in mind, by joining one of our annual Ark Flights.”

Not a bad pitch, I thought. The outer worlds were always looking for colonists, and this seemed like a religious spin on the usual recruitment and resettlement efforts. Hey, why not? It worked for the Pilgrim Fathers. And with the World Government looking to deal with overpopulation by sponsoring flights and subsidising the up-front equipment costs for terraforming, the barriers for entry were getting lower all the time.

“We’re offering you the experience of a lifetime, and more – the chance of a righteous afterlife! Let the Oasis class warprider “Zion Express” usher you in comfort to Chalice III, a homeworld for people of faith seeking a purer life. Find peace and joy through the Church’s simple, Biblical teaching as you initially stay in our orbital chapterhouse.”

My ears pricked at that. The marks wouldn’t be dirtside? This was new.

“You’ll be joining a community where Mammon holds no sway, a cashless society devoted to creating a new Eden on a pristine planet. There’s a place for everyone as our enlightened clergy help you to discover your new purpose and apply your God-given talents for the good of all: from working with the climate change or tectonic realignment teams to helping maintain the aeroponic market gardens and protein vats, from providing medical support to keeping the air circulating.”

Aha. So they were looking for people to actually tame the planet… and didn’t plan on paying them for their labour. That was suss.

“Talk to one of our deacons today for details of how to assure your place by making a suitable donation – and don’t forget to ask about our reduced rates for larger and extended families, and young children.”

And then it hit me. It wasn’t suss, it was brilliant. A masterclass, even, and I’d almost missed it, something bigger than anything I’d ever dreamed of pulling off. The devil was in the details: they were getting people to actually PAY to effectively become serfs. Leaving themselves as the ultimate planetary owners without needing to pony up the cash. They were getting set to make a fortune.

“Remember, whatever your status in this world, a new and better one awaits you on Chalice III! Join us now!”

I noted down the number. If they were hiring, this was a grift I wanted in on. Truly, I had seen the Light.