In his mind Antonab saw the ships. They were led by one of the largest vessels in the flotilla. Excellent. That had to be a warship, undoubtably the pride of the fleet. It might also hold the command and control functions for the travelers. To torture it and its crew before destroying it would be gleefully disheartening to those who would all too soon be dead. Yes, that would be his first prize.
Antonab closed his eyes and instantly stood on the bridge of Strength of Honor. To say the least the crew was caught off guard. In the brief interval between when the individuals saw the beast and then smelled the beast, the crew's eyes, all six of them, were wide and showed primal fear. Once the odor struck them most grabbed at their throats and toppled to the deck.
As captains were given to, that of Strength of Honor charged forward toward Antonab, his sidearm drawn. “How dare you invade my ship,” he raged as he emptied first one clip and then two more into Antonab.
When the captain was within pincer reach, Antonab seized him gently and lifted him up. He was careful to not even scratch the captain's epidermal plates. He studied the humanoid, rotating him to take in the whole of the brave soul. “What are you called?” his booming voice asked. As he was a god he already knew their language.
“I'm Captain Altilia Jex 9, commander of the Slohash Federation Diversionary Fleet. You have invaded my ship and will surrender immediately.”
“All right,” Antonab's voice echoed quietly. It sounded like a slowed-down recording.
“What?” snapped Altilia Jex 9.
“You heard me. I surrender for my crimes.”
“Y … you do?” he stammered. “Well it's about time,” he said, finding his confidence. “Now put me down and subject yourself to binding.”
“Why must I place you down? Can I not be your prisoner while holding you helpless?”
“Ah, no, I think not. It's not proper.”
“I am Antonab, an ancient god. You do not know me. Therefore I will tell you plainly. I am not proper.”
“A god? That's absurd. Now put me down.”
“Yes, I am an ancient god. I rule over tyranny. It's—how do you say it—it's my thing.”
“Ancient god or not, you're my prisoner. Put me down and subject …”
“I know. Myself to bondage.”
“No, I said binding. Bondage sounds, well, it sounds sexual in nature and I'm a proper Snark.”
“Ah. Either way, I am at your mercy.”
“Are you toying with me, mocking me?”
“Why would a prisoner, one so at risk and vulnerable as I, dare mock my captor?”
“You mentioned a moment ago surrendering for your crimes—plural. So far you've only committed one. Illegal boarding of a ship of the line.”
“Well, I was including this,” he replied as one whip lashed out and snapped someone's head off. “As well as my heinous act when I did this.” He grabbed some else by the neck and smashed them to the ceiling. “I included the murders I was about to commit.”
“As my prisoner you may not execute my crew.”
“You are a man who lives by many unfamiliar rules.”
“Adjutant Zazmos Tip 7, release the marines. This monster is toying with us. I want him dead.”
“Aye, Captain,” she replied tersely.
“Marines? Are those armed soldiers I can kill?” inquired Antonab.
“We shall find out,” howled Captain Altilia Jex 9. He then threw his empty piston at Antonab's head.
“While we wait, I have a question. May I ask it of you?” asked the horror.
Altilia Jex 9 spoke as he struggled to loosen Antonab's grip. “Why not? I always grant someone their last request.”
“The others are paralyzed by my body odor. Everyone is stricken by it everywhere. Yet you rush toward me and are able to carry on a conversation. How can that be?”
“I … I guess smells don't bother me much.”
“That is not possible. I have worked for millions of years to cultivate this stench. It must offend all mortals.”
Suddenly Altilia Jex 9 swung Antonab's pincer open with trivial ease. He landed deftly on the deck. “Well there you have it, old boy.”
“What? How did you … There I have what?”
He craned his two fore-claws up and crashed them downward toward the captain. Inexplicably they stopped midflight, frozen in the air.
“How is this possible? I will …”
“Die, my old friend.”
Before Antonab’s many eyes Captain Altilia Jex 9, commander of the Slohash Federation Diversionary Fleet, turned into a fine mist. The cloud coalesced back into an all-too-familiar shape.
“Kocolli,” screamed Antonab with indignation. “The trickster god. Why are you doing this?”
Kocolli scuffed a foot on the deck absently. “Well you see, old boy, I grew bored. Killing these Prime dwellers, well it's too damn easy. I needed … I needed a challenge.”
“Release me at once, man of excrement.”
“Okay, I will release you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I will release you because the game’s almost over. There remains but one move.”
“I shall see you pay dearly for this outrage.”
“Ah, sadly, no. You see, I will be releasing you, yes. But it's into death.”
Invisible forces crushed down on Antonab. Try as he might he could not stop them. Antonab's legs shattered, then his body was smashed into the metal deck, and finally his whip tails were flattened to look like leather belts. Then Strength of Honor vanished. The rest of the imaginary fleet disintegrated. Kocolli stood in the still darkness of empty space and began to play his flute. He chose his very favorite tune. He even dedicated it to the memory of Antonab, lost so avoidably but entertainingly.
THIRTY-THREE
It turned out Daleria wasn't dead after all. She just freaked when she heard the unspeakable's name out loud. She apologized so many times it was kind of cute. One more item to add to my list of achievements—I was present at the most embarrassing moment in Daleria’s life. After she was able to I walked her home.
“No blindfold this time?” she teased. “I guess real spies don't swoon so I won you over.”
“Real spies pretend to swoon. You actually did.”
“Oh, so you're an expert in that field of study also?”
Man she had a cute smile. Jon, don't go there. Remember Lorena and John Bobbitt. Focus on personal safety, not warm and inviting facial expressions.
“Oh yeah.” I wagged a finger in the air. “It's back in my universe so you probably haven't heard of it, but I was a professor of Spyology at Harvard University long long ago.”
“Impressive. How was the benefit package?”
I shrugged. “Not so good, but we're talking Harvard here,” I accentuated with my best Boston accent.
She giggled. I took zero note of how darn cute it was, by the way. Nope, not going there.
Her face hardened. “What do you think our chances are of killing the vortex?”
“Our chances?” I said seriously. “So am I to assume you've joined Team Loco?”
“Whatever loco is, yes.” She wrapped herself in her arms. “And once we've ruined their lives hopefully they'll kill me. I don't want to spend the rest of forever with these monsters.”
“There might just be some happy ground between an unacceptable life and a brutal death.”
“How so?”
“We are planning on leaving once the Cleinoids can't.”
“How? Your ship? You think it can get you home?”
“Do you think it can't?”
“I don't know. Duplicating the work of Dominion Splitter is hard to imagine.”
“With any luck we'll find out sooner than later.”
“Why not do a test run? Yes,” her tone grew excited. “See if you can. That way if you can you'll feel more confident about destroying the vortex.”
“Nah. I for one am never going anywhere through good old DS. If I can't lea
ve, my crew won't either. DS is not an option for us.”
“Why not? I assume the trap you tripped to get here was similar.”
“No. DS hates me. If I got close enough he'd homogenize me.”
“DS hates you?” she replied with comic incredulity.
“Yup. Told me so himself.”
“I'm not touching that one. You spoke with DS? It even talks? Yeah, sure.”
“He,” I emphasized. “You don't want to piss him off and join my club.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
We walked quietly a while.
“I have a question,” I said. “I guess it's a question, that is.”
“What, it can be hard for you to tell if it is or isn't?”
“We stash our ride in a far-off random location. Sapale and I go for a stroll with no particular destination because we were getting on Toño's nerves. You happen to be roasting felnastop with your front door open just as we passed it. It turns out you are a friend of hell-and-gone distant Wul. We chat for not that long and find out you're a rebel.”
“Your point?”
“It's a fairly incredible set of happenstance, don't you think?”
She looked ahead, thinking a few seconds. “Yes and no.”
“Best to cover all your bases.”
“I'm serious. It's fate, Jon Ryan. When fate is in play the impossible becomes real.”
“Sure you can say it was fated to pass or something, but come on. The odds are less than an politician ending his career with honor after having served admirably.”
“You don't get it?”
“Apparently not, teach.”
“Teach? Is that some form of malady?”
“No, it's short for teacher. What don't I get?”
“Fate. Not as in it was fated either. Jon, fate is a real thing. It has will and desire and intent. Don't your people share this knowledge?”
“Ah, that'd be a no. Are you serious? So in Godville fate is a form of religion?”
“No. Not religion, especially not us, the lords of all that is.”
“So you're saying fate is like some dude, a living breathing individual?”
“You say that like it's crazy. By the way, she might be a she.”
“You don't know? I think I rest my case, Ms. Perry Mason.”
“No one has seen fate. Fate might or might not be corporeal. All that's important is that it decides what can and cannot come to pass.”
“Is it like a liberal or a conservative? Maybe it's Groucho Marx, big cigar and all.”
“I clearly don't know your references. However, maybe fate is this grouchy fellow. No one knows. But we all know fate drives our lives.”
I walked two fingers in the air. “We're little chess pieces and fate moves us like pawns?”
“No, of course not. It determines our options, like I said. Jon, the Cleinoids couldn't have accessed DS and DS couldn't have functioned if fate hadn't favored that eventuality. Why do you think we waited so very long to leave? It wasn't for lack of wanting to.”
“So fate decided it was time to burn another universe?”
She shook her head thoughtfully. “No. But it allowed it to be possible. The Cleinoids might have decided to stay here or to go to Prime in peace. Fate allowed options that were not in play earlier.”
Something hit me. “Why did the Cleinoid return here from whatever hell they created on their last romp?”
“I … I don't know. Demigods may or may not partake of the revelries. I've never gone on any of the shameful escapades.”
“But I mean they were somewhere having fun, and then they hop back through DS and come back here. Why?”
“Maybe there was nothing left to ruin.”
“Could be. But a universe is a big place. By the time you eradicate the second half of it, the first half has revolved into something wreckable.”
She shook her head slightly. “I wouldn't know. Maybe you could ask Wul.”
“Nah, best not to press my luck. He's unclear about me enough already.”
“You're probably right.”
“So nice, kind and thoughtful Wul goes on these unholy crusades?”
She looked away. “Sometimes.”
“Does he do the crush-kill-destroy thing, or is it just for a change of scenery?”
“I never ask and he never volunteers.”
“Sounds awkward.”
“Can we drop it?”
“I live only to serve.”
We were back at her place anyway.
“Look, I need to go through the motions tomorrow. But I'll come to see you after like tonight, okay?”
“Wouldn't have it any other way. You're a permanent fixture on Team Loco. Like it or not, by the way.”
She gave me a quick hug. “I like it very much.”
And she was gone.
Back aboard Stingray Sapale and Toño were in the mess, clearly waiting on my return. Toño spoke first. “So are we all one hundred percent certain we can trust her?”
“This is big, love,” added Sapale. “She seems legit, but there's more at stake this time than ever before.”
I slid next to her and the waiting mug of coffee. “I know. I say two things. One, I like her and think we can trust her. Two, that said, if either of you even gets a whiff of something being not right about her, I'm fine powering up right this minute and hiding somewhere else.”
“Would you like me to watch her for a while, see if she's up to something foul?” asked the ghost.
“You know what, you need a name,” I declared. “You're part of the team, an unelected member, I wish to point out. But if you're going to hang with us you need a name.”
“Where were you from?” asked Sapale.
“Do you recall anything about your life, your species?” queried Toño.
“No, nothing really.”
“You speak English. That's hyper unlikely. Were you human?” wondered Sapale.
“I have no idea …”
“What?” I snapped.
“Peanut butter.”
“What about it?” pressed Toño.
“I remember the word. I think it means something.”
“Yeah,” I came back, “it means you ground up peanuts to make a PBJ.”
“Jon, I think this is important. Peanut butter and English. I say that points directly to a human origin,” responded Toño.
I pointed over my shoulder at the closed cabinet. “There's a big jar of it up there. He could have read the label at any time.”
“Can you see, ghost?” Toño asked quickly.
“Er, I think so. Yes, I must. I see you five plain as unbuttered toast.”
“He's obsessed with food,” I complained. “First peanuts, now toast.”
“Wait.” Toño held a hand in my face. “You see five individuals present?” There was a worried tone in Doc's voice.
“Yes. Don't you?”
Toño was right to worry. If the spook was correct we had company.
“Names. What are the names of the five individuals you see?” I demanded.
“”You, Jon, along with Sapale, Toño, Al, and Blessing. Why is that odd?”
“You see the computers?” asked Toño.
“Yes. Why shouldn't I? They're right over there.” The mist swirled.
“They are housed in that direction. But neither has a physical signature. I know for a fact Alvin does not. I built and programmed him myself.”
“Al and Stingray,” I interjected, “one of you two came with me on a trip to Varrank Simzle's home world of Deerkon. The other did not. Will the one who did NOT accompany me wave something in the air. A hand or a transistor.” Then to the ghost I asked, “who's waving?”
“You're kidding, right. This is silly. Blessing is waving the rightmost of her three arms.”
“Blessing has three arms?” mumbled a stunned Sapale.
“Well, the Deavoriath have three arms and they created her,” observed Toño.
“How many ar
ms does Al have?”
“Two. One is currently positioned rather oddly. His left thumb rests on his nose and he's wiggling four fingers at you, Jon.”
“Well I'll be damned,” I said after a deep sigh.
“Now that thumb is extended and pointing upward. Hey, Al, what are you trying to say?” asked the ghost.
“Oh I think the pilot knows my meaning.”
“This is truly remarkable,” whispered a stunned Toño.
“Ya think?” quipped Sapale. “Our AI's have pseudo-bodies? Analog forms?”
“How can this be?” Toño said, equally hushed.
I snapped my fingers loudly. “Okay, Society for the Documentation of the Unimportant, meeting's adjourned. We need to get back on topic. Doc, you can wax philosophical about evidential existentiality at some future date, and preferably when I am light years away.”
“Uh?” he grunted. “Yes, you're right.”
“Ghost, you may have been human. Your name henceforth is Casper. Any questions?”
“You really don't see the Als?”
“We moved on. Try and keep up,” I snapped. “Casper, do you know where Daleria's place is to go snoop on her for a while?”
“Of course. I was …”
“With me the whole time. Why'd I ask? Okay, Casper, you hightail it there and see if she's playing us.”
“You got it,” he replied.
“Oh, and if she takes a shower or anything, you turn your back, assuming you have one to turn.”
“Only you of all beings in all the universes would mention that at such a critical time,” marveled Toño.
“Thank you,” I directed to him.
“Oh, that was far from a compliment,” he responded flatly.
“Well thank you just the same.” Naturally I stuck my tongue out at my pro-peeping Tom ex-friend.
“Is he gone?” asked Sapale.
“Beats me,” I responded. “Hey, Al, you still see him?”
“No.”
“Wait, that was too short an answer.”
“No, sir.”
“Holy crap, you're doing it again.”
“No.”
Rage of the Ancient Gods Page 21
