Babysitting? How insulting, Jon. Need I remind you I am the man who created you? I've been through wars just like you.
You've been through them, Doc, but not like me. Hell, what are we sparring about? Stay where you are and we'll come get you.
You know where I am?
Yeah. We both arrived in the Lower Chamber. Dark, dank, lots of old stonework, replied Sapale.
That description fits it well.
And if an ugly-plus witch shows up to kill you then question you, tell her you're a god.
I most certainly will claim no such thing. Jon, you know I'm a good Catholic. I could never …
Not God, Doc. A god. These dick drippings call themselves the Cleinoid gods. Just tell her that.
“Good thing we stole that cab,” said Sapale. “It shouldn't take us more than ten minutes to retrieve the little lost sheep.”
“Let's go,” I replied, pushing to my feet.
We screeched to a halt in front of the entrance and scrambled down quickly. Doc could get into a lot of trouble quickly with his naivety.
“Toño, you here?” called out Sapale as we entered the area we'd both landed in.
“Over here,” he said with an energetic wave.
“No horrible Tefnuf around?” asked Sapale as we jogged over to him.
“Apparently not. I've seen nothing, horrible or otherwise.”
“Hmm,” I mused, “must be close enough to the egress that no one cares about visitors.”
“Lucky you,” Sapale said to Toño.
“I'll accept all the luck I can.”
“Come on. Let's leave in case old Tefnuf's just on break,” I said, taking Doc's elbow.
“Toño,” Sapale asked once the car was moving, “why'd you come? You told me I was making a terrible mistake.”
“You were. You did,” he responded.
“But you're not?” she challenged.
“My dear, I couldn't very well allow you to place yourself in danger without helping.”
“But you waited days. You can't have it both ways, Toño,” she responded.
“I did not. When I left the room I waited just outside the door. Once I heard you depart I rushed over and scrambled the antimatter and disappeared.”
“Aw, thanks, Toño. That's sweet. But seriously, I've been here for days.”
He shrugged. “Time moves at a different pace here. That's all.”
“Well you could have saved yourself the trouble. The invasion starts at dawn tomorrow. Hell would have presented itself with a ribbon on if you'd have waited a bit longer,” I said.
He rested a hand on his hip. “And I would know this how?”
“Easy. By trusting me,” I replied with a wink.
“The end of times must be at hand. I'm to trust everything to the likes of you now?”
“You kind of complicated things, Doc, that's all.”
“How so? You two are returning tomorrow. I shall join you on your … shuttle or whatever.”
“It's not like that. I'm not sure myself how we're going to do this.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not another of your infernal Jon-Plans?”
“We really don't have one,” assured Sapale. “We found out as much as we dared, but some parts of our plan are kind of soft.”
“I got some locals to accept me. Sapale is tolerated by association with me, but a third new god no one's ever seen may be too much.”
“Then … then introduce me as your butler,” he said haughtily.
Sapale nearly jumped out of her skin. “No. No, Toño. You do not want to be introduced as a servant around these parts.”
“And why not, young lady?”
“Well, for one thing I'm theorizing you look like shit naked.”
“I also don't imagine you'd play well with others 'round these parts in a service capacity,” I added with a wag of my eyebrows.
“You two are too much.”
“Let's just get back to where we're staying and we can fill you in on what you need to know,” I concluded.
Within a half hour Toño was up to speed. He was also fascinated with the whatever I had still contained in the membrane, the make-you-sick machine we stole from Beal's Point. I was still lugging it around because there was no way to stash it away. It was too toxic. Someone'd locate it real quick.
“I have a thought. Sapale can place the both of us in a membrane. You can then safely release the device and I'll take custody of it.”
“I don't know. It's really horrible what it does to your brain. The way I felt, well I wouldn't want to go there again. Sapale can vouch for that reaction.”
“Come, come. You and I have been through much. I promise I'll contain it quickly.”
“All right, but only to be rid of it.”
“Excellent. Once we are safely back home I can study it in detail.”
“Once we're safely back home?” exclaimed my brood's-mate. “Toño, the odds of that are worse than the chances Jon'll behave himself in public.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” I defended. “It'll work out. It always does.”
Both of them stared at me like I was somewhat off base.
“Okay, honey, place us in a ten-meter square membrane. Keep it up for, oh, five minutes. I'm sure the transfer will take less time, but I don't want to stress.”
“Got it. Five minutes. You two stand there.” She pointed to the other side of the room. “In three-two-one.”
“Okay. The whatever is small, maybe a couple square meters. I, uh, didn't get a good look at it. I'll count down from three and turn my membrane off. The box'll be right there.” I pointed to a specific spot on the floor. “Remember, you're going to feel crazy scared and/or sick, so stay focused.”
“Not a problem.”
“Whatever you see, hear, or experience is not real. Okay?”
“Jon, stop being so dramatic.”
“You asked for it. Three-two-one.” I released the hell box.
I was drowning in shark-infested waters. My lungs burned. Two of the biggest white sharks imaginable torpedoed toward my face. A tiger shark tore at my leg. Blood, my blood, fouled the water so badly I could taste it. I was lurched from side to side by my attacker.
“Anytime, Doc,” I managed to shout through my panic.
The nightmare continued. I raised a full membrane around the box. My head cleared in a snap. I was so relieved. I hesitated for several seconds before looking for Toño. Where was he? There. He was clawing at the membrane, trying to get out. He howled like a man possessed, which is exactly what I'm certain he'd felt. But why was he still going on? The brain-deader was neutralized. Then it hit me. I knew exactly what terror, what unspeakable torture my dear friend had experienced.
For millions of years he'd been held captive and abused by the Adamant. They tortured him mercilessly so he'd help their war effort excel. And it drove Toño insane. I was barely able to pull him back to reality. Damn. He was reliving his torment.
“Toño, it's okay. You're fine. I'm here. It's Jon. Toño, can you hear me?”
More mindless terror and bloodcurdling screams.
This was ugly and getting worse by the heartbeat. I slapped him across the face. “Doc, can you hear me? Come on, Doc. It's okay.”
Why hadn't I seen this coming? My best friend was suffering the tortures of ten hells. I should have foreseen it. I knew how powerful the damn machine was. I checked my chronometer. We were stuck in here for four more minutes.
I deployed my probes. Toño, can you hear me? I said mind to mind.
Nothing. His head was filled with the same primal rage and panic it had been the day I saved him from captivity. This was so not good.
Doc, if you can hear me, grab my arm.
For a split second there was nothing. Then he seized hold of my forearm. Man, did he ever bear down. I was a metal man and still I thought he was going to snap my arm in half.
Okay, great. Now calm down, Doc. Can you do that for me?
He continued to w
rithe. Poor bastard, he was in a horrific place.
If you don't calm down, the second Sapale drops her membrane they're going to hear you and we’re all dead.
Again, for a few missed heartbeats nothing changed. Then he stiffened. His arms and leg went straight as lead pipes and his neck arched back as if in spasm. His mouth struggled to close over the shrieks trying to exit his lips. Slowly, painfully slowly, he quieted. Occasional ejections of fear and mourning would slip out, then even those passed.
“You okay, Toño?” I asked softly.
“N … n … no. Bu … but I c … can quiet my … quiet myself.”
“Great, Doc. I'm sorry as hell this happened. I should have known better.”
“It was my … m … my dem … mmm … mand. I will …. will be fine.” He dropped to his knees and was motionless.
That's when the membrane came down. Sapale rushed to Toño's side. “What in the name of Brathos happened?” She wrapped him in an embrace to steady him.
“The damn box brought back his time in hell with the Adamant.”
She shut her eyes and threw her head back. “Of course. How stupid can I be? Of course that's what the worst thing he could experience would be.” She held him at arm’s length to inspect him. “If he's out as long as last time, we're in deep shit.”
“Tell …”
“I - am - going - to - be - fine,” he said with staccato pacing. “There - is - no - need …”
“No need for what, Doc?”
“Worry.”
With his eyes still closed, he stood as unsteadily as a baby crane rising from the egg.
“Easy, my friend,” soothed Sapale. “I have you.”
His eyes slowly opened. He took a deep breath. After scanning the room, no doubt to confirm the absence of Adamant tormentors, he half smiled. “My but you two were correct. That was intense.”
“You think it'll pass?” I asked cautiously.
“I certainly pray to God it does.” He shook himself like a wet dog. “I don't wish to revisit that period in my life.”
“We're here for you,” Sapale cooed as she hugged him tightly.
The rest of the day we just chilled. I wanted Toño to be as well as he could be come dawn of D-Day for life as we knew it.
THIRTY-SIX
Vorc stood facing a deep verdant valley that cut a swath through a vast expanse of the forested landscape. To his back stood, flew, or slithered the most bizarre and sickening assembly. Figures that could only be dredged up from the depths of a forsaken hell held formation. Anticipation was so thick that the air was electrified. Sparks literally snapped and popped randomly. The wedge of ancient gods that flanked Vorc spread outward to infinity, but never did it thin. As far as any eye could see, denizens of the universe of hate, rapacious consumption, and endless antipathy abounded. All chomped at the bit to be freed, lost in a bloodlust for destruction, death, and debauchery.
The time for the egress had come.
Prime was now in their merciless reach.
Vorc raised his arms high overhead. “Brothers and sisters, the time of our sanctification has arrived. Can you feel it?”
The press of the concussive sound that came in response could have flattened an entire city.
“Are you ready to be gods to the worthless and the undeserving? Are you set to level Armageddon on those whose only role in life is to suffer and to die so that we may find joy?”
An even louder wave of sound struck Vorc's back so hard he nearly tumbled.
“Then let it begin.” Spit rained from his lips as he howled. “The advanced reavers may depart. The five ranks of Cleinoids will follow, one at a time. Rage will depart first. Torment second, Wrath third, and Fury fourth. Then … then all-consuming Horror will descend upon Prime, and their fate will be sealed. As is our tradition, I shall personally lead Horror. This incursion Bethniak will stand at my side. She will be the Right Hand of the Gods.”
The chorus of howls, cheers, and wails was bone-shattering.
Over the valley a slowly turning vortex of light came into existence. Reds and blues, purples and indigos churned together and sprang apart before disappearing into the center, into the singularity. A sound, as quiet as hope at its onset, began to rise from the disturbance. Soon, the sound declared itself. It was the very opposite of hope. All who could hear felt the wails and moans and sobs and lamentations of lost souls bound to suffer torment for all of time. The sound was to the Cleinoid's ears sensual, erotic, and well past orgasmic.
The whirlpool grew in size and in ferocity. The mass of the calls of anguish increased to match the volume of the storm itself. Soon the vortex darkened the sky and the only light came from the lightning bolts that grew in number. And then chaos broke loose. The formation split like a rack of cosmic billiard balls. Each god acted independently, flying hither and yon. And then the first ancient god, Marropex, a god of atrocities, charged forward. He shot past Vorc and directly at the center of the storm. Well before he reached it, he disappeared. He was gone. He had teleported into Prime.
The first of three reavers was in Prime.
The remaining masses thrummed a chant.
A pair of Cleinoid gods shot into the air and sported around each other like ice dancers. Hartoris and Caliopherous, despair and death, picked up speed and arced high into the darkness. Then they rocketed toward Vorc's back. Just short of that point, a flash of light exploded. Something small but moving at high speed slammed into Vorc with a force sufficient to toss him forward like a bowling pin. He tumbled and slid, then skidded to rest on his back.
He stood, enraged, bent on discovering what had desecrated his great ceremony. But the crowd, the totality of the ancient gods, were gone. Vorc saw only emptiness. He reached out with his mind but it touched nothing. He called out at the top of his lungs but no one heard him, no one called back to him. Vorc was absolutely, positively, and eternally alone. He fell to his knees trembling. His hand covered his face and he began to weep tears of blood. His loneliness was inconsolable. He had been alone forever and always would be.
After the flash, Hartoris and Caliopherous slammed to a halt. Before them were children of all ages and species. The children played, and sang, and each and every one of them had a confident casual belief that their lives would be filled with only joy, nothing but tender love, and they knew above all else, each and every one of them, that the future held limitless possibilities and endless hope. Hartoris shrank before the vision of unbridled positive emotion and charity. He covered his ears so he might not hear the happiness. He clawed at his eyes so that he might not see the wonder. He struck his noses so that he might not smell the sweet treats and plentiful candies. Hartoris laid down on the dirt and ended, such was his misery, his loathing, his despair.
Caliopherous, an icon of death, stood aghast in disbelief. She saw before her nothing but life, verdant, boundless, and energetic life. As far as her eyes could see there was no other emotion but love, hope, and happiness. And she was left breathless by the level of endless, immutable peace. It went on forever and it could not be ended. Hers was a universe of growth, fertility, and most painful of all, no boundaries. She clutched her stomach and vomited with such might it hurled her backward, where she struck Vorc.
For his part, Vorc felt the blow but could not see the source since his universe was empty. He felt the burning vomit spill across his face, but he could not see the liquid because there was nothing, not even vomit, in his solitude. He crumpled to the ground and wished that he was never born.
All the ancient gods near enough to the small box that rested on the ground near Vorc experienced their own personal hells. Antorphij, the prideful bearer of the flag of deceit, saw a million fleas lift him up and carry him back to the army he'd just betrayed. The dead souls only then rising from the corpses saw Antorphij coming. They wiped away the bloodstains and the excrement that tainted them and they swelled toward the traitor. They would rip his great body to shreds and he would join them, lost forever in dea
th.
Fenorl was an amphibious cyclops. His role was to collect the bodies of those who died at sea. He would then bind their souls to their dead corpses so they could never know an afterlife. His greatest joy was to stack the lost souls like cordwood in a cavern at the bottom of the deepest ocean. There they would remain for all time. Their only escape came when he consumed one. Fenorl was a despicable god. But at that moment in time, he was no longer a happy god. He lay on his back facing up to the burning desert suns, three of them, each hotter than the next. The noonday suns were frozen in place over him. He would never again know darkness or moistness, or taste the abominations he had amassed in his larder. His scales burned and his lips cracked, but his scales and lips grew back just fast enough to never vanish yet never heal. His only companions were the footlong red ants that stung him and ripped bites of his flesh off. He knew with utter confidence he would lie desiccating there in the parched desert until the end of time.
Into the chaos, into the unbearable fear, walked a child. Her pace was even, her face showing no emotion, and her eyes looked blandly at the small box sputtering on the ground near Vorc. She reached down almost daintily and picked the intermixer unit up. In defiance of belief, she showed no ill effects from her proximity to the hell-raiser. As casually as you please, the child smashed the intermixer unit to dust between her palms. Its noxious effect ended promptly, but its victims' minds only very slowly returned to reality. The little girl's gaze swept over the writhing gods strewn about like trailers after a tornado.
**********
After I slammed the hate-box against Vorc, I began to smile like a kid in a candy shop with a charge card. The asswipe gods crumbled and bawled, and made perfect fools of themselves. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen in my entire life. I was about to turn to Toño, to make sure he was far enough away to be spared the horrible reaction he'd had the last time he was exposed to the device's effects. He shot me two thumbs up. Sapale added her thumbs-up too. She sported the hugest grin. We couldn't know the long-term outcome of our act of terrorism, but we sure as hell felt good about then.
Out of nowhere appeared a little girl. I hadn't noticed her before, but she was tiny, especially compared to the many gargantuan gods. She was walking right toward the box. She should have been running from it, not approaching it. The power of the evil illusions might easily kill a child, especially a sweet young girl with a pink pinafore dress and the cutest matching bonnet I'd ever seen.
Return of the Ancient Gods Page 21
