The Ghostwriter's Words

The Prophet had been dead for nearly a thousand years, but his words, or those of the Creator for whom many claimed Jonathon Fry was merely the ghostwriter, were the foundation of the world's major religions and dozens of lesser splinter groups. As in many earlier Holy texts, those words contained the prophecy of eternal life and how to attain it. Not as a bye-and-bye, pie-in-the-sky afterlife for those who adhered to the rules. This prophecy was the foretelling of technological innovations that would end disease and the inevitability of aging and death guaranteed to every human being who'd previously been born.

They'd celebrate Prophet's one-thousandth birthday decades earlier and the one-thousandth anniversary of the publication of The Word of God only the past year. For believers, many of the prophecies foretold had since been fulfilled by no other than the Prophet's Descendant. His great-grandson, Sammy, to whom he'd given a signed and personally inscribed first edition of the great book when he'd been merely a six-year-old boy. By the time of his great-grandfather's death, still a young man, the Descendant had read The Word of God through, cover to cover, enough times that he'd worn out many cheaper copies once he became aware of the wear the original began to suffer.

The Descendant believed those words to be true from the moment he first read them, whether they were those of the Creator or only the product of his great-grandfather's imagination. And he'd dedicated his life to proving their truth to the world. Thanks to the fulfillment of what most believed to be the most significant of those prophecies, the Descendant was thought to be the oldest human being who'd ever lived. He appeared no more than thirty, although centuries earlier, he'd been a middle-aged man before the prospect of 'forever' replaced what would have been the inevitable and approaching end of his life. The Descendant was now celebrating his one-thousandth birthday. And the Prophet's gift of his original, signed, and inscribed first edition of The Word of God was considered the world's most cherished and valuable book.

The Descendant's long-dead wife, Eve, was given less credit for the discovery of Immortality, even though the fulfillment of that prophecy was, in fact, entirely her own - as the Descendant had, loudly and publicly, proclaimed from the first and all the centuries to follow. His contributions began with giving Eve a copy of his great-grandfather's book, when neither had yet turned twenty, then pointing out what he believed were the pertinent passages. Sammy had planted the seed and inspired her. Then he'd gone on to invent wondrous technological innovations, the riches from which were all a part of his original unlikely plan to finance his wife's work. To be fair, it had been his idea. The entire plan, the grand vision, had been his. But she'd done the research and work for the most critical part, the point of it all. And he believed the credit belonged to no one but her.

Now, for far too many, Eve was forgotten because she couldn't face the prospect of the potential eternity she'd made possible and taken her own life only a few years after the return of her youth and that of her husband. So, she hadn't been around for centuries to receive the adulation and credit she deserved. In addition, the Elders of The Faith, the first and still the most prominent of the religions founded on The Word of God, wanted her forgotten since she'd thrown away the most sacred gift they had to offer. Instead, they solely credited the Descendant for the gift of 'forever. Although, a few would have preferred that he'd accompanied his wife off that cliff.

Except, then, the eldest Elder, the Father, would never have discovered the battered, dog-eared copy of The Word of God left on the Descendant's desk after breaking into his office. Nor would he have been able to embezzle the intellectual property behind what became their holiest sacrament. It was Sammy's belief the least they could do was acknowledge Eve's contribution to what they'd so brazenly stolen.

Within most groups who'd split with The Faith following the Schism, 'forever' was a merit-based award for those with great accomplishments or who'd dedicated their lives to great acts of charity and human kindness. The Faith's offer of 'forever,' however, was exclusively for purchase by the world's wealthiest men at the cost of their entire fortunes, the justification for which was that they would have plenty of time to earn it all back.

The eldest Elders, the founders of The Faith, also known as the Curia, assumed only the Descendant had been around long enough to remember what they had stolen. To be sold, again and again, to build untold wealth for a small group of powerful men who were not in the least who they presented themselves to be. Rather than Holy Men, they were thieves, swindlers, frauds, and far worse. Although every single recipient of the promised gift of eternal life, at the cost of their entire fortunes, agreed that the price had proven fair. They were all wealthy men again, with forever to enjoy it.

And, as per The Word of God, forever was a very long time.