The God Equation and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

mission was doomed from the beginning. I was too late.
    That ’ s when it occurred to me.
    At first, as Matthew described his ideas, it was clear to me that he would never be able to prove the existence of God in mathematical terms. His Holiness is too vast to be contained. But that was before I saw the Equation.
    Then I remembered.
    More than two thousand years ago, the Word was made flesh.
    He was persecuted, crucified, but promised to return again, like a thief in the night or a stranger knocking at the door.
    He may return as a brilliant radiance, touch everyone, and know everything, a Divine Being who will encompass the world. Alpha and Omega. Unity and Null. One and Zero.
    I imagine a day when the world will receive a new message — in an email, online forum, or blog — from someone they do not know. Many will ignore the message, dismissing it as a prank, while some will respond. Those who reply to the message will receive a prize. Those who don ’ t will pay the price.
    In this way, the Second Coming would be most unexpected.
    * * *
    The day will come when my office will be abolished. I ’ ve been thinking about a transfer. But no one knows the day or the hour, not even the angels in heaven. So I have no choice but to wait.
    I leave St. Peter ’ s Square, taking the street alongside the Vatican Museum, and I walk to the gelateria where a certain young woman works. Today is her last day.
    As I approach the counter, she sees my true form, but she smiles bravely without fear or distress.
    I offer her three words of comfort: “ Nocciola, per favore. ”
    And her heart, which had been broken from the moment she was born, began to beat forever.
     
     
    “The God Equation” copyright © 2006 by Michael A.R. Co. This story was the First Prize winner of the Gregorio Brillantes Award for prose fiction. First published in Expeditions: The Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards vol. 1, 2007.

W AITING FOR VICTORY
     
    “Do you really think she ’ ll come?”
    “She ’ ll come.”
    “What if she doesn ’ t come?”
    “She will.”
    “But what if?”
    “Show some faith.”
    “We ’ ve been waiting for days. Nine days to be exact.”
    “We stick to the plan.”
    “We ’ re almost out of water. We ran out of food three days ago…”
    “We stick to the plan.”
    “For what? What ’ s the damn point? We ’ re going to die.”
    “We ’ re going to make history. Now stop complaining or shut the fuck up. That ’ s an order.”
    Tomas didn ’ t share the optimism of his commanding officer who now stood up and limped barefoot toward the shoreline, arms akimbo, pants rolled to the knees, a proud silhouette with a deliciously fine ass.
    Fatima stared at the horizon, wondered if this had been a terrible mistake. Tomas, like his namesake, was the doubter; she was the believer. She had to be ... for her peace of mind, his sanity, and the future of their people. People neither of them will ever see again.
    The sun was sinking rapidly behind her. She looked over her shoulder, but it was the lieutenant who lowered his gaze.
    “Ten days tomorrow,” he said. With a twig and a shrug he drew a line and a circle in the sand.
    Her lips were chapped, her skin sunburned . She felt miserable inside. She stepped into the water. Her ankle still hurt, but the apathetic surf distracted her from the dull pain. A dark scab had formed over her laceration; the swelling was gone. 
    “We ’ ll know by tomorrow, right?” Tomas called out to her. “We ’ ll know if this was worth it?”
    “We won ’ t. We ’ ll never know if it was worth it. But just the same, we should still keep an eye out for her. If … when she comes, we do what we were ordered to do.”
    “We need to find food and fresh water.” He drew pictures of fish in the sand. “We should find a larger island.”
    She returned to sit beside him. She took out a nautical chart from her breast pocket. “We also need to conserve fuel. The nearest island is hours