Beyond Redemption by Michael R. Fletcher

Abandonment’s eyes, challenging. “We’ll kill him.”
    â€œThat was always the plan. He must Ascend, and we must have control when he does.”
    â€œThe plan could be changed,” pleaded Acceptance. “We could save the boy. We don’t know he has to die to Ascend. If enough people believe in him, he might Ascend anyway.”
    A wave of relief washed over Konig. His Doppels remained divided. He stepped forward and said, “No. The plan cannot be changed. What is the love of one child in comparison to the worship of millions? Morgen is a tool to be used and nothing more.” He felt a stab of annoyance at mirroring Abandonment’s words. Had the Doppel’s influence grown beyond the others?
    â€œWe know you don’t believe that,” said Acceptance. “We know what the child means to you.”
    Trepidation, the quietest, most reticent Doppel, looked from Acceptance to Abandonment and finally to Konig. “The boy is dangerous. His power grows too quickly. We will lose control.”
    â€œThere is no we. I will control him,” said Konig, but suspected Trepidation might be onto something. This was the advantage of being able to speak to one’s subconscious. Most people floundered about, never really knowing what they thought. He might not trust them, but in a way, they were the ones he could most trust. “Tell me the rest, Trepidation.”
    â€œAre Morgen’s powers a sign of the faith of the Geborene believers, or are they his own delusions taking form? Are we creating a god, or just an extremely powerful Geisteskranken?”
    â€œIs there a difference?” asked Konig. “Does it not make sense he becomes a Geisteskranken before Ascending? If anything, thistells us our plans are working.” He growled in anger and corrected himself. “ My plans.”
    â€œNo,” whispered Trepidation. “This is too fast. The boy must have been unbalanced to begin with. If his powers develop too fast, we will be unable to force his Ascension. He may fall short of being a god, but a Geisteskranken backed by the worship of all Selbsthass could overpower us.”
    â€œNo,” disagreed Acceptance. “The child loves us. He trusts us.”
    â€œAnd you are a fool to trust him.” Abandonment rose from the chair and paced the floor, his crimson robes whispering against the thick carpet. The Doppel mimicked Konig’s gait perfectly—obviously.
    Did Abandonment’s distrust refer to Morgen or himself? He often suspected a flow of subtext beneath everything his Doppels said and did. It seemed they communicated on a level he could detect but not comprehend. As he felt earlier, he could trust them, but only inasmuch as he could trust in himself to understand them—and right now, there was doubt.
    Trepidation sat in the now-empty chair. “If Morgen understands his power, he will become very dangerous. We’d be fools not to consider the possibility he might be using us for his own ends.”
    Acceptance looked distraught and raised his hands as if in supplication. “He’s just a boy. A child. We created who he is.”
    â€œNo,” Trepidation disagreed. “We create who he will become . We have no idea what kind of person this child is . We must kill him now and start the experiment over. With what we have learned from our failures, the next batch would certainly succeed.”
    Konig chuckled, relief flooding him as he realized what the Doppels were trying to do. “Ah, I see. Yes, begin the experiment again. Of course.” He glanced at the reflections of himself gathered in the massive mirror, a crowd of identically gaunt,bald men. They hungrily watched the goings-on in a world they couldn’t touch. Konig turned to glare at each of the Doppels in turn. “Think me a weak-minded fool, do you? This experiment took a decade and I shudder to think how strong the three of you might be ten