9 Tales From Elsewhere 11

by 9 Tales From Elsewhere

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” The beast turned its head slightly towards Argos. “It would be a shame if I had to devour one of the human’s celebrated heroes.”

  I moved away as Argos signaled me. “We can do this your way or my way, no-face. It don’t make no difference to me. Cause either way it goes down—I’m gonna thoroughly enjoy blowing your ugly head clean off.”

  The beast turned completely around to face Argos. It towered over him just slightly less than it did me. “Of course, you know that you cannot kill me.”

  “No, but I can stop you by destroying your current form. Not to mention the fact that it will be some time before you’re able to take on another form. Yeah, that’s right. I know about how you Dimensionals have to reunite with others of your race—in some astral form—before you’re allowed to reemerge into physical reality.”

  “You have me at a disadvantage, human. I did not know that religious people were still so important to you.”

  The beast began to back off and disappeared into the shadows of the garden.

  “That was a close one,” I said. “I guess we can add this to your ever growing list of heroic endeavors.”

  “Don’t mention it, Citson. I noticed her following you even before you exited the Hall. Being a Stryker for as long as I’ve been—tracking fugitives for the Liege—a person develops an instinct for these kinds of things. My suggestion for the future would be to keep a lower profile. Maybe you can start by not giving speeches on the Council floor advocating civil disobedience to the Liege Code.”

  “You mean to say this encounter was not happenstance,” I asked.

  “Can’t say for certain one way or the other. But like I said, a person develops an instinct for these kinds of things after a while; and like it or not, your views don’t go unnoticed. Believe me when I tell ya, there are more than a few in the commission that have wet dreams about frying your ass.”

  “Does this mean you won’t be attending mass any longer?”

  “Nah, they don’t care about stuff like that. Just as long as I keep bringing in fugitives and feeding them enough information to make them happy—they encourage my attendance. They think I’m as loyal as the rest.”

  “Are you not, Argos? You know you can’t walk on both sides of the fence forever, don’t you? Eventually, you’ll have to pick a side.”

  “I still think some kinda compromise is possible. We’ve lived this long under the guidance of the aliens. In time we will win more and more freedom back. Look at how much progress your religious movement has made. The Dimensionals tolerate you because they know it benefits their relationship with us. You can’t expect to be rid of them for good, Citson. Realistically it’s never going to happen. You have to accept that if you ever want to succeed in bringing the human race back to—what did you call it?”

  “Enlightenment, my friend,” I answered.

  “Right—enlightenment. I’ve been reading a lot about the first enlightenment, like you suggested, and it really is amazing. I never knew there was so much to learn from Old Earth history. It doesn’t take long to see why they made it illegal to read about the old days.”

  “The Dimensionals want to erase our history,” I said. “If we allow ourselves to forget our past what kind of future can we possibly have—besides what the aliens have written for us? You must realize, Argos, there may be a time for compromise within civil society, but when the very foundation of a people’s identity is at stake, compromise is self-destructive.”

  “I don’t like the no-faces any more than you, Citson. All I’m saying is you gotta tone it down. If they come for you some day, they won’t send me or anyone else around here you’ve befriended. I’ll just wake up one day and hear that you’ve been taken into custody. They will issue a statement accusing you of false charges and you’ll never be seen again. Not a single one of those people in your parish will have any say.”

  “You are a good friend, Argos. As always I’ll take your advice into consideration.”

  “Good. You still coming to the brute-hunt next week?”

  I hesitated before answering.

  “You promised you know. I start attending mass if you come with us to hunt brutes one day. And priests don’t break promises.”

  “I’ll be there as agreed. Just remember, I won’t use a firearm for hunting.”

  The brute-hunt was the most popular sport amongst the aristocracy. At times even the Dimensionals would take human form and join in. The brute-hunt was one of the first customs the aliens introduced to us. This fact was just one reason I never participated in the hunt. More than an inherent disdain for anything the aliens provided, the brutes, as they came to be known, were far too sentient to be treated as sport and killed.

  In appearance they seemed like any other four legged carnivore. But their behavior was like no other animal I’ve seen on Earth. They traveled in packs and cared for each other; not just their young but every member. Any of the weaker members of a pack would be protected by the stronger members. During a hunt the brutes seemed highly intelligent and capable of coordinating their efforts. There were even times when they launched counter assaults against the hunters; using such strategies as outflanking their opponents or even holding the high ground. This is what made the sport so popular with people. The brutes were much more challenging than other wild animals. It was said that the brutes were bioengineered by the Dimensionals for the very purpose of sport. Regardless of their unique nature, any brute that was killed during a hunt was usually sold on the market. Brutes were considered a delicatessen by the rich and powerful elite.

  From the time of its introduction, all teachers of the old religions had condemned the brute-hunt. My mission, however, was to assimilate myself into the lives of those in power without giving sanction to moral compromise. I was to walk amongst sinners in order to save them. Something questionable like the brute-hunt was always an opportunity to show my fellow man the error of his ways.

  The brute-hunt took place on one of the islands off the coast of the capital. I was geared up like everyone else there. We all looked like we were prepared for warfare. I wanted to be armed in case I was attacked by one of the brutes. But since I was paired with Argos, I most likely would not need to defend myself.

  “It’s good to see you coming along, Citson.” One of the participants was talking loudly at me. I recognized him but could not remember his name. He worked in one of the bureaucracies—pushing lots of paper, I think. “If you’re going out into the field with Argos you’re in good hands. He has more confirmed kills than any of us.”

  “And that’s just counting brutes—not mentioning all the people he’s hunted,” said another.

  “Now gentlemen, let’s not exaggerate,” said Argos. “I’ve made my reputation as a Stryker by not having to kill fugitives. A good hunter always brings them in alive. But whether hunting brutes or men, the goal is the same: make sure you do the job and get back in one piece.”

  We separated into groups of two and left the camp in different directions. It was likely that most of the brutes inhabiting the island knew we had arrived. The Dimensionals kept the island heavily populated and would replenish its alien wildlife as needed.

  Argos led the way down a trail that seemed to lose itself as we went deeper into the brush.

  “It’s amazing—the animals—I’ve never seen anything like them,” I said. “And this foliage—the texture even seems alien to the touch.”

  “Don’t get too distracted. Those critters we just passed are what the brutes like to prey on. That means some could be near. Remember how smart they are, Citson. Don’t let your guard down.”

  “Got it.” I kept my firearm raised like my father had taught me and my brothers. When we went hunting in the old days, when commoners were still allowed, he always said a fraction of a second could make all the difference.

  “Steady now,” said Argos. “There’s a couple of them out there, see?” He pointed to the clearing ahead of us. We
were in a good spot with higher elevation. Argos knelt down and with barley a second to take aim he fired. I saw one brute drop instantly causing the other to dart off for cover.

  “Hell of a shot, Argos! Is he dead?”

  “That was a headshot. Don’t worry—he didn’t feel a thing. You saw where the other one went?”

  “Into that cluster of trees on the other side of the clearing,” I answered.

  “Let’s head down the trail. It leads right around that area. If we move fast we can head him off.” Argos began sprinting like he was after one of his fugitives. I was right behind him and my adrenalin was pumping. I kept reminding myself why I was doing this. We made it to the other side of the clearing faster than I thought we could. The trail was now completely immersed beneath shadows cast by overarching tree limbs. What we saw was unexpected.

  “He’s just sitting there. It’s like he’s waiting for us,” said Argos.

  “Is that the same one we were chasing?”

  “Yeah, that’s him. But they never turn and attack when they’re alone—only in packs. Wait—quiet now—I think he sees us.”

  I followed Argos’s lead and kept as still as I could. For a moment his attention was drawn away from the brute. He was beginning to realize that there were many more of them. Closing in from both sides of the trail—they had been on us all along.

  “Damn, how could I have missed it? We were set up, Citson—it’s a trap!

  “Whatever reservations you have about killing brutes, I suggest you get over it. I’m gonna need you taking my back.”

  With blinding speed the brutes leaped from the brush and attacked from all around. No thoughts—I just opened up. My rifle was on fully automatic and the rounds tore through the beasts with a vengeance. I knew it was over when I heard Argos speaking; something about moving off the trail to better ground. The brute we had chased was still up ahead. It looked like he was standing his ground. Now he was howling the way they sometimes do. It was a high pitched sound; like he was crying out to the universe.

  Argos had already reloaded and was approaching the brute when I realized my magazine was empty. It did not make any sense—the brute just stayed and howled as Argos got closer and raised his firearm for a kill shot. I began to yell out in protest but it was in vain. Argos appeared determined to take the brute down. And that is when it happened. Argos suddenly dropped to his knees, his firearm was thrown aside. He fell backwards as if being pushed by some unseen force. When I got over to him, the brute had run off, and Argos was lying on his back. One hand was covering his face like protection from a blinding light. With his other hand he reached upwards grasping at the air. His mouth was moving but no words were spoken.

  “Argos! What’s wrong? Are you alright? Can you talk?”

  There was no immediate response. After I shrugged him a few times he began to recover and noticed me. Once he seemed aware of his immediate surroundings he sat up and began to sob. “What have we done? No, no, no… Oh God, please forgive me…”

  “It’s ok, brother,” I said. “You’ve done nothing that cannot be forgiven. You must keep your faith and trust in God. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  And so began the final conversion of Argos Aradas, the great missionary you all know today as Sedow: Seeder of Spirits.

  It was not long before Sedow was to set out on his missionary. After he told me about the vision of light and the revelation of truths previously unknown to him, I knew he had been chosen. There was nothing I could say which would persuade him to do the very things he had wanted of me. Once the true nature of reality was made known to him, there was no force terrestrial or alien that could stop him from spreading the divine word.

  Knowing the road ahead would be arduous and full of unprecedented dangers I volunteered to travel with my brother Sedow. Such a decision did not sit well with the Fathers in my priesthood. They would not give their consent; such an act would take me from my current task. It had been resolved that I was too well placed inside the Liege Council to set off on a missionary. Too much time had been invested in my assignment, ‘Influence the aristocracy from within.’

  And so it was that I stayed in the capital. Just like everyone else I would hear about the good works being performed by the new teacher—Sedow. My friend was still a hunter. In the past he had hunted fugitives for the authorities. Now he was a hunter of lost souls for the highest Authority. There were tales of the miracles he had performed and the many thousands he had converted. But what stood out the most were the words he preached. They could have been straight from my thoughts. Such words would only be seen as provocative and seditious by the Liege.

  When next we met it was the day after the Vernal Ascension. Martak VII had been chosen along with a handful of other high ranking members of the elite. As someone who held a seat in the Liege Council I was to attend all the ceremonies that led up to the main event.

  I had never actually seen an Ascension before that day. Martak and the others stood upon an outdoor stage set within a circle of twelve monolithic stones; each one representing a constellation of the zodiac. All of us who were there to bear witness congregated below the front of the stage. For sake of truth and honest appeal I must confess a feeling of elation and fulfillment. I can readily see how such an experience can be seen as connecting to a higher power. But these were purely carnal sensations. Not like the extra-physical experiences of the mystical as described by learned sages throughout Old Earth history. Once Martak and the others were ready, what I can only describe as a ferocious river of energy cascaded from the sky and flooded the stage. When the energy ceased Martak and the others were gone as if they had never been there. The physical sensation from the energy would linger for a few minutes. The crowd cheered and praised the Dimensionals for accepting another group of humans into their fold.

  Soon after the main event I found myself in robust conversation. It wasn’t hard for any objective observer to see how I was slowly becoming one of them. But after having spent so much time on the inside of a corrupt regime, I was hardly the worthy judge of my own actions I’d once been. It is the Dimensionals very nature that makes them so deceptively convincing. But soon I was to be rescued. Once I was alone he approached and spoke.

  “What did you think of the Ascension, Citson?” He was a stranger to my eyes—in person and in appearance. The attire was right, but his face did not fit in with the rest of the crowd. It was weathered beyond his years like the laborers of old.

  “It wasn’t what I expected. I really felt something, even before the energy appeared; it was like some kind of connection with everything around me.”

  “Better than mass, eh?”

  “You won’t hear me say anything like that. Speaking of which—are you a member of the parish? You don’t look like a government person.”

  “No—not a government person. But I guess I belong to a parish of sorts. I have a message for you, Citson.”

  He handed me an envelope and disappeared into the crowd. There were only two reasons within the political culture to communicate with a hand written message: a personal note to a friend, or seditious materials for sympathetic eyes only. And as I have made clear, this man was a stranger.

  The next day I did as the note instructed. I boarded a pneumatron and traveled to a nearby island not far from the others where we had hunted brutes. Of course, I did not consult the Fathers; they would have seen my meeting with Sedow and his followers as much too risky.

  When I arrived I was welcomed by the same man who had handed me the message. To my surprise he was accompanied by a brute.

  “Do not be alarmed, Citson. He is quite tame.”

  I can’t say I was afraid—even at first. But the sight of a brute so docile and friendly was a bewildering sight after my experience hunting them. I somehow maintained my composer and held my hand out as the brute greeted me calmly.

  “He wants your bags, Citson. He will carry them for you.”

  I placed my things upon the brute�
�s back, while slinging the heaviest one around my shoulder. The man noticed and smiled. We left the docking station and modern technology behind as we made our way along dirt paths leading down into a fertile valley of farming villages. This is where Sedow and his followers had made a home for themselves.

  There were brutes everywhere. The people here seemed to be living alongside the animals in cooperation. There were brutes helping to work the farms; their powerful muscles made them efficient in front of the plow. Some of the brutes could be seen high in the trees where access to the exotic fruits of the island was hard for humans. Due to their sharp hearing and heightened vision the brutes made good lookouts. They would find a strategic vantage point and watch the surrounding seas for approaching vessels. I would learn later that once the sun had fallen, the humans and brutes would gather for a feast and give thanks for the abundance that providence had chosen to provide.

  Upon entering the village, the first order of business was to meet with Sedow. This is where my own unexpected revelation of truth would occur. Sedow was about to answer questions which I did not even know existed.

  When I first saw Sedow my heart ached. His body was sickly and crooked. A cane bore most of his weight as he walked with shuffling feet across the living space of his hut. His face had changed considerably. The eyes, however, had not changed. Those were still the eyes of a hunter. We sat down in the middle of his hut around the fire.

  “I’m sorry for the condition you’re in, Sedow—I truly am. The last thing I would have expected is to find you in bad health.”

  “A gesture from our space friends, I’m sure of it,” Sedow replied—his voice weakened.

  “You were made sick on purpose? The Dimensionals did this to you? But how could they?”

  “Such questions probably do not matter at this junction, my brother. All that matters is the reality at hand. The hour of my passing will be soon and you have arrived as foretold.”

  “You knew beforehand that we would meet here and now—just like this? So, you still have the gift of revelation. The spirit of God is strong in you Sedow. I’ve been following your ministry and witnessing the amazing progress you’ve made. The amount of people you have touched, even if they aren’t converts, it’s like something the ancients had accomplished in the old history. I wish I’d been able to go with you. I wish I could’ve seen the miracles you performed.”