“Hey,” squealed Sapale, “you did it. Come over here.”
“On my way. Stay back. No telling what I've done.”
“That's life with Jon's normal condition.”
“Very droll.”
I stepped in front of her and peered into the darkness within. One thing was certain. The ill effects were much worse with the door open. I really felt like shit. I took that to be a good sign.
“Oh my,” said a queasy-sounding Sapale, “I do think I'll move to the other side of this infernal thing.”
“Go ahead. I'll call you if I need you. Oh, and try to analyze what the sickening transmission actually is. I couldn't identify it at all last time.”
“Where're the Als when you need them?”
“True that. Advanced computers do serve a useful function, even if they're pissy.”
I barely heard that from where I am. Switch to comm link, Sapale said into my head.
This monolith is dense. It stopped most of Nausea Radio and deadens sound intensely. Wonder what it's made of?
The same material that makes up your skull? Such a sweet wife.
Hey, I found something. It's a box or crate. I felt its surface then attached my probe fibers. What are you?
You talking to me or the coffin?
It's not a coffin.
And you know this because?
She had a point. Well, what if it was? I'd seen way too much worm chow in my day. I mean, how rotten could it be? And grave robbing might be a useful addition to my résumé. Hey, a job skill's a job skill.
My probes say it's a steel-like metal, hollow, and that there's something alive inside.
They do not, you jerk.
Being together so very long did make it hard to fool her, didn't it? Well, the first two are correct. I'm trying to get a fingernail in the seam. There. It's … ahhhhhh.
Not buying what you’re selling, dear mate. What's inside?
No idea. I haven't found the seam yet if there is one. Maybe it's welded shut?
Cut it with your laser.
Good idea. See, I knew I kept you around for a good reason. Toño's been wrong about you all along.
Less mental diarrhea and more cutting, flyboy.
Damn. I think it's working. It took a sec but I think I got through the entire sheet. I'm expanding … ahhhhhh.
You are not seriously …
Ahhhhhh … get it off me … Sapale, tell the kids I … ahhhhh.
Sapale broke into a sprint. If you're shitting me you’re dead, Ryan.
**********
She shot past the pedestal opening and right at Jon. He was writhing on the floor and slapping at his torso. She stood over him scanning for the danger. She saw nothing. Sapale would have vomited up her stomach if she still had one, she was so nauseous. But otherwise nothing seemed amiss.
“Jon,” she shouted, “what's wrong, honey? What's the matter?”
“The spiders,” he screamed, “get them off. They're ripping my flesh off.”
“Jon, there are no spiders. Honey, stand up.”
“No, they ate my legs. Run, Jeanna. Save yourself.”
Sapale seized him by the collar and began dragging him out. Instantly she felt something on her arm. She shot a glance back. Falzorn. There were falzorn crawling up her arm. Those murderous snakes from her home solar system were always ravenous, mindless, and relentless. She released Jon's clothing and smashed her arm against the wall. She went to slap at the falzorn with her free hand. They were gone. She scanned the floor. None. Not one falzorn. What just happened? she thought through her panic.
From the ground Jon wailed again. “Rats, now there are rats too. Ahhhh.”
An illusion. That's what it had to be. A horrific hallucination coming from the box. Sapale lunged for her brood-mate's arm. As she tugged the falzorn reappeared on her arm. They multiplied and soon there were hundreds writhing up her arm, across her face, and down her throat.
“It’s bullshit,” she hissed. “Ignore the vision. You're fine. Keep …”
Two falzorn squirmed into one of her eyes.
Focus, girl, she shouted to herself, focus. You can do this.
In seconds she'd dragged Jon out the door and around to the far side of the pedestal. One by one the falzorn faded. And then there were none. She dropped to her knees. “Jon, honey, are you okay? The rats are gone. The spiders are gone. Jon, speak.”
**********
The one-foot-wide spider that had spanned my face started to fade. I was slapping myself hard well after it was gone. I looked at my arms. The rats dissolved into thin air. There was nothing assaulting me. I stood unsteadily and examined the ground. Where'd all the pests go?
“Jon, easy,” purred Sapale. “It was all an illusion. When you opened the box something came out that made us hallucinate the worst things we could possibly imagine. It was just a vision, Jon. It was not real.”
“A what? No. There were spiders crawling up my nose. I could smell them.”
“Ancient god mojo, honey. We're just fine.”
“F … fine? I'll never be fine again in my life. That was intense.”
“Then delete the memories. No big deal. We're fine.”
I studied my arms and legs. They were perfectly normal, no stain, mark, or tear. But the feeling was so real. No, it was hyper-real, more intense than reality. I'd been scared out of my mind before, not often, mind you, but it'd happened. But it was never that … that actual, never that vivid. I never ever wanted to experience that again.
“So what do you think it was?” Sapale asked when it was clear I'd calmed down.
“Wrong, that's what it was.”
She rolled her eyes. “Besides that?”
“These evil cockgobblers have somehow purified misery. They've bottled it and can modulate the intensity of the suffering with proper shielding.” I shivered.
“Did you get a look in the box to see what it was?”
I stiffened.
“Well did you. Yes or no?”
“No, but this time I will.” I spun on a heel and headed for the door.
Sapale grabbed me from behind. “No, Jon. Please don't.”
I stopped but didn't turn. “Why not?”
“Because it's too awful, too all-consuming.”
“We need a weapon. Maybe what's inside is one. I intend to find out.” I started walking again. “You stay right here. Just takes one of us to check it out.”
Sapale hadn't released me. She used my forward momentum to swing around to my side. “No way, hero boy. If you go, I go.”
I turned to her and smiled sadly. “We don't both have to suffer.”
“Yes we do and you know it. Shut up and follow me.”
I lifted her hand from my arm and kissed the back of it. “Come on. Follow me, love of my life.”
Five minutes later we were outside again. Through blasts of white-hot fire melting my skin off and swarms of scorpions entombing my writhing body, I'd looked and felt in the box. There was nothing in it. Sapale cut a section of the wall and we'd placed it over the hole I'd cut in the box from hell. That modulated but did not totally extinguish the hallucinations. But I had me a weapon, even if it was making me wish I were dead. That was fine by me.
Then, because I was a male, it hit me. I was doing it the hard way again. I placed a full membrane force field around the box. Immediately all horror ended.
Sapale stared at me. “Why the hell didn't you think of that half an hour ago?”
“Me, I kind of enjoyed the feeling. It was like all the rides at the amusement park rolled together.”
“Pig,” was her initial response. “So, now you have your toy. What's next?”
I scratched absently at the side of my nose. “Something.”
THIRTY-TWO
In an antiseptically white room with glaring fluorescent lighting to great excess, three sub-demigods sat at their workstations. Dronus, Borender, and Failos had worked in Control and Remediation for longer than they could rig
htly remember. They rarely spoke, less frequently did any actual work, and never contributed anything to the common good. Some god at some juncture decided a department to monitor the controls of the inner workings of the Cleinoid dominion was needed. Either that god or some other equally intellectually challenged god felt that if monitoring was being done, a remediation network and plan had to, by necessity, be attached to that function. Neither thinker of dubious merit took into account that the inner workings in the land of the ancient gods were divinely inspired and magically fabricated. Such implacable systems did not actually fail. Monitoring only documented the perpetual perfect running order of all parts. And since nothing ever failed, remediation was but a pipe dream for Dronus, Borender, and Failos. It wasn't going to happen. In spite of all their training, in-servicing, drilling, and potential personal talents, they were doomed to live eternal lives as pointless as a dog with two dicks.
Into their listless careers, one crushingly boring day, came a missive so new, so novel they didn't believe it was real for the better part of an hour. Even then each one looked to the other two workers, non-verbally questioning if anything needed to be done. Half the shift passed before action of any kind was taken by any of the M&R employees. Borender went for a bathroom break. By the time he returned two hours later, Failos had amassed sufficient gumption to ask of his coworkers, “Does anybody else see that flashing red light?”
“I do not think I do,” Dronus replied peevishly.
“I refuse to see it unless both of you do before I do,” responded Borender. “After all, you two have been present for two hours longer than me since the red alarm began to flash.”
“That is only because you took such an extensive bathroom break,” chided Failos.
“That is because I have extensive bathroom needs,” defended Borender.
“So you admit you saw the red light before you left just like the two of us did?” fired off Dronus.
“I admit nothing. I was speaking in the hypothetical. You know, if I'd seen the light flash you would have seen it flash longer and therefore understand it's meaning better than I.”
“That is definitely not what you said. You stated you saw the light before you left. Since we both saw it too, you are as responsible as we are in terms of reacting to it.”
“Fine, fine,” snapped Borender. “We all saw a flashing red light a few hours ago at the same time. There, are you two happy?”
“I've never been happy in my entire life,” replied Failos. “None of us has.”
“Stop. Stop it the both of you. Let's agree we all saw the light when it started to blink. Let us further agree one of you two needs to do something about it.”
“No, we all do,” returned Dronus. “We all work here.”
“Oh very well. This discord is driving me insane. Let's all do something about the red flashing light.”
“I believe we already have. We've discussed it,” Failos pointed out.
“I meant something proactive. Something we have been trained to do.”
“What do you suggest we do, Borender, as the lead party in this crisis?” asked Dronus.
“I'm not the leader. We are co-leaders.”
“No, I will only agree that we are co-non-leaders, Borender and I,” stated Failos.
“Fine. We are all equally not in charge and not responsible.”
The other two agreed quickly to that resolution.
“I suggest someone determine what that flashing red light means,” Borender said uncertainly.
“It means there's trouble somewhere in some system,” responded Dronus.
“I believe he meant which system is associated with that particular red light,” Failos said softly.
“Ah, an excellent first step,” replied Dronus. “Let us all.”
They stood and approached the flashing red light like it was an agitated deadly serpent.
“It seems to be coming from the memorial to Galysapholis,” announced Borender.
“No,” Failos said firmly, “it is coming from the statue of Galysapholis. There's no seems to about it.”
“Why would there be a flashing alarm from one of the oldest monuments on Beal's Point?” Dronus wondered out loud.
“Perhaps it's broken?” replied Failos.
“Perhaps what's broken? The entire monument?”
“Maybe the sensors are defective?” returned Failos.
“That would be the light here.” Borender tapped an unlit alarm.
“Maybe there's a storm and the signal is an error?” Failos responded.
“We will not find out what is wrong by guessing,” said an imperious Dronus. “We have to do that thing they taught us to do, the one where you review the protocols, examine the monument, and identify the problem.”
“You mean … oh, what did they call it? Look into the matter?” Failos said uncertainly.
“Investigate. That's it. We need to investigate what the problem is,” said a relieved Borender.
“Yes, I agree.”
“Me too.”
“So, what is the first step in an investigation?” Borender queried.
“Take a break?” replied Failos quietly.
“No, the first step is to await direction from one's supervisor,” Dronus responded more confidently.
“We do not have a supervisor,” noted Borender. “It's just the three of us in C&R.”
“Do you mean that if we discover a problem and either remediate it or do not remediate it, we then report that action to no one?” Failos challenged incredulously.
“Now that you mention it, friend Borender,” said a thoughtful-for-the-first-time-ever Dronus, “we do in fact not report to anyone or anybody.”
Failos was flabbergasted. “So if we identify a problem and do nothing about it, no one will ever know?”
Dronus looked to Borender. Both blinked their eyes a couple times.
“Who's up for donuts?” Failos asked cheerily. “I'm buying.”
THIRTY-THREE
Sapale and I had no place to go, which felt weird but wasn't really. We had no creature needs like sleep and bathing, so why stress about it? Plus, it sounded like the invasion was on for soon, so accommodations in that realm were superfluous. What we needed to do was find out exactly when all hell literally broke loose and what the process would be. I doubted it would be in the style of the USMC with LCMs hitting the beach and dropping bow ramps. All gods into the water. Keep your powder dry. Nah.
The problem, like before, was who to ask and not be outed for posing questions simply everyone knew the answers to. I could try and find Wul, but since the boulder god was certainly home by now I didn't have free access to one of their comm stations. That kind of left Queeheg. He certainly would answer my questions and never rat me out. No, he was terrified of me. I let Sapale know my thoughts.
“That guy again?” was her underwhelming response.
“And exactly why not? I think he's reliable and trustworthy.”
“Off the top of my head a few reasons elbow their way to the front. One, he worships you, which is nauseating to watch. Two, he's a bartender. Bartenders blab any and all secrets. They can't help it. It's in their DNA. Three, I don't trust any of these turd substitutes, not him, not Wul, none. Four, the joker's a missing link, not a source of reliable information.”
“So you're not one-hundred percent behind me on this plan?”
“A safe assumption. I'd put my behindness around minus thirty percent.”
“So, you have a better idea how to find out what we need to know?”
“Yeah,” she said in a manner almost as cocky as me at my best, “we ask the cum puppet Vorc. Bet he knows.”
“You want us, two perfect strangers, to march into his office and demonstrate a suspicious lack of common knowledge? And you think we'll survive? That's not a bad plan, honey. It doesn't even rate being called a plan. Bad just called and said it’s pissed being used to describe it, because it's horrible.”
“Why not? If he
gets antsy or hostile, you release the horror maker and we slip out the back.”
Good point. I would kind of enjoy dumping that on him. Hey, he was a politician. He'd put the entire incident in its proper prospective and then establish an ad hoc committee to advise the best action plan to avoid a repeat performance.
“Why the hell not?” I said lustfully.
“How far is his official office from here?”
“This I do know. It's a day and a half’s walk in that direction.” I pointed to the horizon.
She rose gracefully. “Then let's do this.”
“Let us indeed.” I offered her my elbow.
She slapped it down. “This is war, not a romantic stroll in the park.”
“Cannot the two be combined?” I protested.
“You're the only wanker in existence who'd even think that, let alone say it.”
We made good time and arrived to the city center where the civil administration resided faster than I’d anticipated. We had to take a break outside town to avoid arriving before dawn. No sane god would go to the Bureaucracy Center that early.
I recognized the building we wanted based on Wul’s descriptions for our pilgrimage. I didn't know, however, exactly where Vorc could be found. We were unlikely to find a directory with crocked plastic letters in the lobby. But, we were all in for a what-the-hell experience. I walked through the wide doors like I owned the place. Sapale was at my side, equally brash.
A quick reconnoiter revealed the tall building had multiple elevators. We strode over to the bank of them. We stepped in. That was when I saw the elevator operator. I then wished I’d told Sapale about the naked golems before, because she was going to kind of notice the one that worked the elevator. Guy was buff, looked to be twenty, and didn't have a stitch on.
“Vorc's office,” I said in as bored a tone I could. When he turned to pull the lever I put an index to my lips toward Sapale.
For her part, she was so darn cute. She faced me, but shot her eyes and the side of her head rapidly at the nude dude as if to say, do you see that?
The door swung open at some floor and we exited.
Return of the Ancient Gods Page 19
