Rage of the Ancient Gods

by Craig Robertson

  “Then be impressed.” I sat down.

  Zastrál was as heavy as it looked. And talk about smell? Whoa. Nastificatious. Somewhere between rotten chicken meat and old shoes.

  “Is your name really Ryanmax?” Vorc asked in a measured manner.

  “Yes.”

  “Zastrál?” Vorc asked the beast.

  “We … we are uncertain. Please ask a different question.”

  “Did you throw the intermixer unit into the vortex? Yes or no?”

  “No.”

  “Well, Zastrál?”

  “We get no reading whatsoever, lord,” they replied in unison.

  “What are you fools saying?” demanded the center seat.

  “Ryanmax has made good on his promise. We are not permitted to enter his brain.”

  ’Cause he doesn't have one, Sapale observed in my head.

  Maybe stay focused, babe?

  You're not speaking to me, are you? asked Toño.

  “This is outrageous. Zastrál, try the woman.”

  Within a minute Sapale was seated and had on a snake hat. Vorc asked the same things of her, and pretty soon of Toño. Nada. Damn Zastrál was so dejected when he slithered out the door, I almost called him back and fessed up. Almost.

  Vorc and Dalfury spoke briefly in a whisper so quiet even I couldn't hear them.

  Finally Vorc looked to me and smiled. “So your bravado was justified. We are impressed.”

  “I believe you referred to it as blustering, not bravado,” I corrected.

  “Quite possibly.” His smile was growing a nervous edge to it. “Be that as it may, you are free to go for now.”

  “For now,” I said as low and scary as I could.

  “Well, pending a full explanation of today's situation, we are all suspects, aren't we?”

  “Even the cloud?” I fluttered a hand in Dalfury's direction.

  “Ah, well … um, some are less under suspicion than others, I suppose.”

  “How about you, Vorc? You screw the pooch?” I menaced as best I could.

  “Hardly. I was in front of everyone, remember? My hands were in plain sight most of the time.”

  “Most being the operative concept.”

  “Bu … but, how could I …”

  I placed my index and middle fingers in front of my eyes, then flipped them to Vorc's face. “I'll be watching you.” To my team I said, “Let's get a drink.”

  We waltzed out, hoping Vorc's day just kept getting worse and worse.

  FOUR

  Visforef danced around the joinery, encouraging all the singlets to eat. For them, jumping was easy. Their fused adult body had a coiled spring midsection. Their jellyfish-bell circular leg also allowed for excellent bouncing. If adult Delemic didn't have the upper body of a monkey with six long thin arms, they'd have looked quite aquatic.

  The time for the joining was upon them and, as lead jointer for this region, Visforef was assigned to make certain there was a positive outcome. If a singlet wasn't plump enough it couldn't meld with another.

  “Eat, eat, eat, our little ones,” they sang out. “4158, please don't play with that toy until you've finished your slurry.” Little ones, they thought to themselves, alway wanting to play when there was serious business to be completed.

  At least Visforef already had a goodly complement of singlets ready to advance to pairing. Some might even be big enough to form a triplet immediately. The best singlets would be identified when all the wrinkles were gone from their spherical, ill-defined bodies. If they got the larger doublets to eat, well, they'd be ready to bond up quite soon. The Incubation Sun was due to rise in seven cycles. All the singlets and doublets not ready by then would be lost. Such was an abomination. Last joining period, two triplets and one doublet perished. None were Visoref's charges, but recalling the lost ones made them shudder just the same.

  In a corner a singlet hovered alone, paying no attention to anything. Unacceptable, they thought. “You, we don't recognize you. Are you partitioned from another joinery? What is your name?”

  “I am not lost, old ones. I am simply awaiting my chance,” replied the singlet.

  Such language, they thought to themselves. “Well, you are here now and look to be well-fed enough to bond.” They scanned the joinery. “88200, come here. You are the correct mass now. You will pair with … with this one.” They pointed at the newcomer. “What is you name, we ask again?”

  “What if I don't want to join with 88200?” the little one asked.

  “Impossible,” shouted Visoref. “Choice is not an option. Volition is not a prerogative.” They shooed the little ones into the next chamber, where the joining tables were located. Their immense bulk left no room for the newcomer to avoid involuntary cooperation.

  88200 hopped into the joiner chair without needing to be asked. It was trained to do so and couldn't conceive of objecting.

  “You get in this joiner chair. Do so now. You've already caused us excess time and undeserved stress.”

  The newcomer remained where it was.

  Visoref picked it up and set it into the joiner. They were angry. “This will not take long, but as you know you must cooperate. If you resist or give us further trouble, you will be expelled and will never live to post Incubation Sun. Is that clear?”

  “It is clear, old cow. But I'm not mixing my pure flesh with this tainted whore's.” There was, for reference's sake, no word for or concept of prostitution in the Delemic mind.

  “If you don't want to join with 88200, what is it that you want to do? To join with a different singlet? Such is possible, but we are not certain you warrant such a second chance.”

  “You asked my name earlier. I will give it to you now. Lorpamoor is my name. Blood is my game. What I want, baby, you got.” A long, thin tubular projection sprouted from Lorpamoor's mouth. In an instant it pierced Visoref's chest and lodged in their center heart.

  Lorpamoor made an exaggerated suction action with his entire body. Within seconds Visoref died. All the circulating blood in their body was drained. The vampire god withdrew the thin spear and drove it into 88200's tiny chest. It was dead much quicker. Lorpamoor jumped to the floor. As he fell he transformed back into his normal body. He then returned to the joinery and drank as much blood as he could from the helpless singlets. Their number was so great he had to allow a few to escape. He was that full.

  He patted his swollen belly. “It's such a shame to let all that sweet blood go to waste. I may need to start working out to stimulate my appetite. I don't want my peers to judge me lazy.” Then he laughed a juicy, sick laugh. Life was good again.

  FIVE

  We sat in a small drinking establishment not far from Vorc Central. After a bit of initial chatter we were all pretty quiet, probably reflecting privately. I was into my third ration of firewater when Toño spoke.

  “Jon, I'm concerned and confused.”

  Sapale held up her glass. “I'll drink to that.”

  “How so?” I replied.

  “We, well mostly you, are pulling off a monumental con-job, one on the scale of a universe. But what's our endgame?”

  That was easy. “I have no idea.”

  “I suspected as much,” he responded sadly.

  “You know me. I wing it more than's healthy for one's health.”

  He tossed his head side to side. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  “What would you have me do?” I asked.

  More head tossing. “I can't say specifically. I must say a long-range plan and a realistic exit strategy would be comforting just this once.”

  “I …”

  Sapale put a palm in my face. “This is where he says, oh don't be such a worry wart.”

  “I was about to say nothing of the sort,” I protested.

  She extended her probe fibers to my forearm. “What were you going to say, love?”

  With the probes attached she knew I couldn't lie. She'd hear whatever rattled around in my head. It was a trick she'd learned a long time ag
o that I was not particularly enthralled with.

  “I was going to respond that his concerns were heard and appreciated.” Yeah, I lied anyway. I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “Might we return to discussing the existential crisis we face?” asked Toño, sounding for all the world like our parent.

  “Sure, why not?” I grumbled back. “So, any bright ideas from the two of you?”

  “We could try rushing the vortex. Maybe it'd let just the three of us pass,” replied Sapale.

  “But then at best we're back home getting the snot beat out of us,” I reasoned.

  “Well at least we'd be home. This place is at its core disgusting.”

  “We're at war. If it ain't disgusting, it ain't war,” I responded.

  “But that might be our only path back to where we belong,” observed Toño.

  “True. The traps we sprung got us here but there doesn't seem to be any other way out, does there?”

  “I'd hate to die here,” Sapale remarked wistfully.

  “Didn't see that coming,” I replied. “Isn't it as good a place as any?”

  “No. This universe is wrong. It's corrupted. My soul might not be able to find its way to Davdiad's blessed pastures from here.”

  “Ah, why not. Souls can do amazing things,” I replied weakly.

  “And you're an expert on that subject since when?”

  “Expert? Since when do I need to be, like, certified to have a valid opinion?”

  “I thought not,” my wife of two billion years scoffed.

  “Topic at hand, people,” urged Toño.

  “Okay, we have one vote for flying into a broken vortex of transportation or homogenization.” I held up a finger. “Doc?”

  “I have tried hard to see where this is going, where we could make it go. But I come to no satisfactory vision. No matter how hard or how long we try, it's unlikely we'll ever control or destroy anything but a small portion of the locals. There are too many of them, too few of us, and we're fighting on their turf.”

  “As part of astronaut training, you know where they sent me?”

  “Of course. I assume you're referring to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I learned everything about you, remember?”

  “Yeah. 1st Battalion, 10th Marines. The Nightmare, they called themselves.”

  “This is all cool bonding and shit, but is there a point to this macho recall?” Sapale asked pointedly.

  “'Course. They have, I mean had lots of swamps there. And we had a chance to march in many of them. All of them, I think. We slogged through those damn swamps in the day, in the night, and in the rain. Hell, if it snowed there we'd have shlepped through them in the snow. Locust and frog no prob, we'd still march up to our chests. You know what I learned?”

  “Keep you socks dry?” Toño quipped.

  “Crotch rot can kill,” replied my smiling wife.

  “No. I learned that a lot of the time you don't know where you're going, you don't know if you'll make it there alive, but you do know that if you do, every wet part of your body will have a leech affixed to it. Every part. But you know how you beat the swamp? You keep going. If you stop putting one foot in front of the other, you die. Mission failure.”

  “So, we don't know where this escapade in the land of ancient gods will lead, but we need to push ahead?” summarized Sapale.

  “Yes …” I started to say.

  She put up that hand again. “No, no. Me. This is the inspirational part where you say that oorah thing, right?”

  “Possibly,” I replied, a tad miffed. I hated it when my thunder was stolen by some domestic terrorist.

  “So?” asked Toño.

  “So finish off your drink and let's go. If we can't make somebody dead, let's at least make them miserable.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Sapale chimed in as she raised then drained her glass.

  Out the door I said, “We need to find Wul.”

  “What if he left in that first wave, Rage?” asked Toño.

  “Somehow I think he didn't. I'm not sure he's passionate about the raping and pillaging. I think he'd be in the last group to go if he went at all.”

  “Some gods are allowed to stay behind?” questioned Sapale.

  “I think the powers that be turn a blind eye to it, but yes, not everyone joins in.”

  “And you suspect we might find allies in these conscientious objectors?” Toño queried.

  “Won't know if we don't ask.”

  “Ah, isn't that a little risky? Beal's Point seems to be populated with political dissenters,” Sapale responded.

  “Desperate times, honey. I think it's our best option.”

  “How will we find him?” posed Toño.

  “I recognize a few of the members of Rage. One of them was good old Gorpedder, the rock god. I'm betting his place is free again.”

  “Why do we want to be squatters there?” wondered Sapale.

  “Because there'll be a comm station. I can use it to call Wul.”

  “Won't he be suspicious? I mean, these gods simage each other. Why bother with a landline?” asked Toño.

  “Normally yes. But Wul's sort of concluded I'm fundamentally different.”

  “Smart man,” returned Toño.

  Sure enough Gorpedder's house was empty, with signs he'd closed things up for a long vacation. I made a show of waving at one of the neighbors. That way everyone would know Gorp's pal was back. I went straight to the comm station.

  “Do you know how it works?” Toño questioned.

  “Sort of. These controls are for the TV-like broadcasts. There's news and some stunningly lame entertainment options available.” I pointed to a different set of keys. “I called the morgue by hitting this one.”

  “Why did you call the morgue?” asked Sapale.

  “I wanted to make a reservation in case they were busy when I died. Come on, I hit the key and that's where the call went. Maybe Gorpedder's BFF works there. Who knows?”

  Toño stepped between me and the unit. “I'd better take it from here. You two go entertain yourselves while I figure out how this works.”

  “Ya here that, wife?” I gestured to the next room. “Bedroom's right over there.”

  “In your dreams, horny toad.”

  “How about coffee? I hid some in what passes for a kitchen.”

  “That I can go for.”

  As I slide her a stone mug, I said, “I'm really touched you two came looking for me. Thanks.”

  She shrugged. “You'd have done the same. Plus, silly me, I was starting to miss you.”

  “That's sweet.”

  “Yeah. I was relaxed and at ease. There wasn't one crisis the entire time. Really creeped me out.”

  “Ah, true love. It's a thong of beauty.”

  She set her mug down. “You mean thing of beauty, right?”

  “Sure, but you look so amazing in a thong I had to mix the metaphor.”

  “Why I put up with you I shall never understand.”

  From the other room Toño called out, “I think I've got it.” When we were there he continued. “There's a list of numbers, a directory if you will, if you select this option.”

  A list of names and places popped up on the screen.

  “It's poorly organized, but I found Wul's name here.”

  He tapped a key and Wul's name was the only one on screen.

  “If you hit that button you should initiate a direct call to him.”

  “Let's do this,” I responded. I hit the key and instantly Wul's face was smiling at me.

  “Ryanmax, what a surprise,” he said with genuine warmth.

  “Yeah, I missed you too. You didn't go with Rage?”

  He hesitated a moment. “Let's meet at the usual place in say an hour.”

  “Regular place one hour. I'll be there with bells on.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Why?”

  “Old saying. See you soon.” I killed the conversation.

  Clearly Wul wasn't comfortable discussi
ng anything specific over an open system. Still, not even saying, “Meet me at Blind Faith No More?” Kind of a public place. Oh well, maybe I'd ask him about it when I saw him. It was always best to be cautious. We left immediately to make sure we got there first. Since he'd brought up the notion of security, I wanted to be able to watch for signs of traps developing or spies sneaking in. Hey, I didn't get to two billion by throwing caution to the wind.

  I placed Toño out front to keep an eye peeled for anything suspicious. Sapale was with me. It's hard to imagine going out for a social occasion without one's spouse. Plus she was an objective set of eyes and ears. She might catch some tell I wasn't picking up on because I liked him.

  Queeheg nearly split in two down the middle when he saw me walk in. Darn guy just couldn't decide if he should run like hell or worship me. It was kind of cute. Then again, I didn't need a big, ugly, and hairy groupie.

  “’Lo … Master Ryanmax,” he howled when I was halfway through the door. “It's sa good a sees ya again. Been too long, says I.” He slipped nimbly around the bar and genuflected his way all the way over in our direction. “An' ya brought the missus along too. Nice to sees ya too, ma'am.”

  “Good to see you, Queeheg,” she replied.

  “Ya bes needin' a table or ya sittin' at the bar?”

  “A table, please. We're expecting Wul anytime now,” I replied.

  “A table it ’tiz,” he replied as he swung a massive arm toward an empty spot. “Ya sit an' I'll retrieve some refreshments.”

  He was back quickly with three glasses and even more bottles. He also precariously balanced a tray of nibblies on his forearm. When he was in range Sapale snatched it before it could tumble. Grace in motion the man was not.

  “Anytin’ else, master?” he asked with a most uncomfortable smile.

  “No, thanks. This'll get us started,” I replied.

  The man was gone in a flash. It was like he shifted a foot onto a land mine. I wouldn't have guessed he could move that quickly.

  “Boy, you sure get that poor sap's brain spinning,” observed Sapale as she poured.

  “That seems to be the case, doesn't it?” I took a swig. “Us alpha gods have that effect. One gets used to it.”

  Her response was one of the Kaljaxian's signature growls. This one was the I'm-about-to-leap-for-your-throat warning.