The network was nearing completion, and nobody felt the weight of it more than Yehzaat. He knew what the ZG3 network would mean for humanity.
Finally, there would be universal access to enlightenment. No longer would the conduit to nirvana be through prophets and priests, it would be through ZG3 portals. Direct pipelines to salvation, to fulfillment, to peace. Enough bandwidth to handle the entire planet’s prayers.
Too often, human nature had interfered with the divine. Corporeal weakness and corruption had co-opted the spiritual source, distorted the message, cluttered the channels. No wonder the world was so unbelieving, so suspicious, so lost, so confused.
Yehzaat had known there was a better way. A simpler way. ZG3.
That was ZG3. Thus, deep in the Zagros mountain range near Persepolis, Yehzaat, coordinated the final installation of the QVs, quantum-processing vessels, designed to cut out the ecclesiastical middlemen, the oft-corrupted clerical class, and let the masses connect directly with ethereality. The promise of pristine spirituality.
As the project neared completion, Yehzaat conceded that he couldn’t have created the ZG3 network without the input of the clerical class. That was quite obvious as he looked out on the seemingly endless stacks of QVs networked together in the hollowed-out mountain.
Indeed, priests and prophets had played a key role in getting ZG3 up and running. From the clergy of every religion, Yehzaat had exacted a tithe. A necessary offering to bring each of the myriad QVs online.
With a bow to the heavens and the supreme sacrifice from the broken clerics he'd collected, Yehzaat initiated ZG3's final systems upload, filling the vacant vessels. For not even this vast array of quantum processors could connect with the divine. Not alone. Machines have no soul.
The once-empty vessels thrummed with renewed spirit.