Torment of the Ancient Gods

by Craig Robertson

  “I don't know but I wouldn't doubt it for a second. The conditions are very different than they were originally, but who can say?”

  “Maybe in a billion years there'll be little green men all over the place,” responded Sapale.

  “With any bad luck you and I will be around to find out.”

  “Doc,” a voice called out from behind, “always such a glum Gus.” It was EJ.

  “Hey, how'd …” he started to say.

  “I get so close without your AIs screaming bloody murder?”

  “Something along those lines, yes.”

  “I'm very sneaky,” EJ responded with a wicked grin.

  “I can testify to that,” growled Sapale.

  EJ turned to her and studied her a few seconds. “Never thought I'd be seeing you again.”

  “Nor I you. Curse Davdiad's inconstancy,” responded Sapale.

  “Same high spirit as always, my love. I wish I could say I missed it,” EJ said in kind.

  “You really do look just like him,” marveled Daleria.

  “Yeah, he gets that a lot too,” rebuffed EJ. “By the by, who the hell are you?”

  Sapale stepped forward, between EJ and Daleria. She set a hand on her shoulder. “This is Daleria. She's with us now.”

  EJ glanced at her, then at the rest of the group. “Cult, sexual religious practices, or pyramid scheme designed to make y'all filthy rich?”

  “I thought you said he wasn't evil anymore. He'd been reformed?” asked a pissed-off looking Daleria.

  “He's better,” replied Mirraya coolly. “Better doesn't make him nice, only not as abysmally bad as he was.”

  “Mind if I quote you on my next job application? I'm overwhelmed.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” asked Sapale. “You spent a long time being rehabbed by Mirraya's master Calfada-Joric. I guess that didn't include social skills or anti-asshole guidelines.”

  “I'll send you a full summary at my earliest possible …”

  “Enough,” Mirraya barked with authority. “We are here for serious matters, not to banter and certainly not to exchange punches. Suffice it to say, Jon Ryan from an alternate timeline, no one here likes you or trusts you. You like and trust none of us. Yet we have a galaxy to save. We must work together.”

  EJ scuffed his boot on the rock. “I'd ask who died and left you in charge, but I guess that would be Calfada-Joric.”

  “It would in fact be that blessed brindas,” Mirraya said sternly.

  “You know, at the end there, she liked me and trusted me.”

  “I know. She told me long ago that when her time here was at an end she would decide if you were to live, based on your progress. The fact she didn't kill you before she passed proves your contentions.”

  “But?” he responded.

  “But her blessing does not alter my impression of you. You must earn from me what you earned from her. You have much to atone for, human.”

  “Geez, you Deft witches are tough to please. You win one over you think you'd win them all over.”

  “If you thought that you'd be wrong. I could bore the others to tears with cautionary tales to back up my reluctance to allow another to think for me. I will not.”

  “So he's going to work with us or is he part of the problem?” asked a confused Daleria.

  “Maybe ask him and not his long-ago associates and wives,” mocked EJ.

  Daleria was not going to be intimidated. “Are you going to work with us, or do I have to kill you here and now?” She was extremely serious.

  EJ chuckled. “Impressive words, kid. But don't think there's one chance in hell you could as much as …”

  “Enough,” howled Mirraya even louder than before. “No blustering, threatening, or mindless prepubescent posturing. I only just met Daleria. I do not know if she can justify her threats. But from what little I know I would not challenge her. More critically, human, I can end you with a thought. Never allow that fact to stray far from your awareness.”

  EJ was truly contrite. “Sorry. You're right. I'm behaving badly. It's the history at play here, Mirri. He created me, she was my wife for a couple billion years. There's a lot of water that went under many bridges pooling here just now.”

  “My name is Mirraya-Slapgren. For conversational ease you may address me as Mirraya. Only Uncle Jon may call me Mirri. Hearing it come from your mouth makes me want to fill said mouth with lava. Am I conveying clear meaning?”

  Wisely EJ said and did nothing by way of response.

  “You were the one to bind Walpracta with beicil crell?” Mirraya asked directly.

  He nodded curtly.

  “And you acted alone?”

  He nodded again.

  “And was it your intention to leave the immortal there for all time?”

  Another quick nod.

  “You felt that extreme level of punishment was fair and measured?”

  “It was a common mercy I showed the bitch. She deserved the worst that I could have done. That is a very bad and dark thing. My defense is yes.”

  “Your defense?” questioned Sapale.

  “In a Deft trial, what we might call a formal explanation they call a defense. One's defending their actions,” responded EJ.

  Sapale looked to Mirraya and pointed at EJ. “You have him on trial?”

  “Yes. It is necessary for two reasons. If he is to work with us his actions must conform to our norms. Also, if his punishment were too harsh or too lenient, his error would have to be made right.”

  “Which, in case the judge there leaves it off, would include not allowing me to punish any subsequent individuals.”

  Confused, Sapale turned back to Mirraya. “How can you possibly do that?”

  “By killing him,” she responded dispassionately.

  “I guess that'd do it,” commented Sapale as she shook her head.

  “Dispensing the powerful Deft magical justice is an act of the highest sanctity. There is but one way to do it properly.” Back to EJ, she asked, “And do you feel your defense was just?”

  “I do.” There was no way around it. EJ tightened up in anticipation of a less than approving decision from the judge.

  “So do I. You are cleared in your action.”

  “Is that good?” asked Sapale.

  “It means I live,” responded EJ.

  “On to the matter at hand,” pressed Mirraya.

  “Yes,” hissed EJ. “You know,” he directed at Toño, “I don't take meetings. Not since your former boss General Saunders did the world a favor and died.”

  “How little I feel for you, old comrade,” responded Toño. “While you waltz your cynical dance across space and time, some of us are honor bound to do the right thing.”

  “Ah, sanctimoniousness. How I haven't missed that either. I do not answer to anyone. That said, don't presume to judge me. I am very busy doing what I feel to be the right thing.”

  “This conversation is pointless. Awards of merit will not be handed out later. We must plan a defense.” Mirraya exuded confidence and control.

  “And I bet you're including me in we, right?” confirmed EJ.

  “No.”

  EJ recoiled like she'd slapped him.

  “We are here to discuss if your assistance is desirable and acceptable.”

  “Didn't you forget the concept of my assistance being available, up for grabs? Who said I'd work with you or anybody else?”

  “Clearly not. We must decide the first two issues. Then a genuine offer on your part may be entertained.”

  “Lordy in Heaven you talk like a lawyer. I hate those more than meetings. And don't even mention a meeting with a lawyer.” He shuddered.

  “I'd say his flippancy leaves a mark in the neigh column,” remarked Daleria.

  “Ah, skipping over the fact that no one asked you, rookie, which column? Hmm? Desirable or acceptable?” spat back EJ.

  “Both,” Sapale answered for her. “I happen to know you can speak without playing the role of th
e buffoonish asshole. Please act like you've learned something in your very long life.”

  “I second Sapale's request. Make no mistake about my resolve. I am weighing you in the balance. We are. You are presently on the razor's edge. One more angry or stupid remark and we will take our leave of you,” said Mirraya forcefully.

  “Is that supposed to be a threat? If it is, I don't know if you thought it through. Let me summarize. Our universe is under an existential threat the likes of which it has never seen. I and none of you have proven ourselves capable of meaningful resistance. And you might what, refuse my aid? Trade me to another team for players to be named later? Correct me if I'm wrong here, but you need me a whole hell of a lot more than I need you.” EJ crossed his arms with consummate satisfaction.

  “Your offer of service is accepted,” responded Mirraya, void of emotion. “I shall be our leader. The team as it was constituted before you so generously offered to join made that decision final. We now need to …”

  “Time out on the field. The replay officials are reviewing the tape to see exactly when I volunteered to join your high-tension-ass-sphincter team, because I didn't.”

  “You did. Your argument was correct and irrefutable. You are bound by ierry. Now we have no time to look back, only forward,” replied Mirraya.

  “Ierry? You gotta be shi …”

  “Oh, and, alternate timeline Jon Ryan, those who serve under me do not swear.”

  “The only way I'll serve under you is with your talons clutching my throat.”

  “You say that in anger. In point of fact if you break your unbreakable honor-bond, your ierry, that is precisely the last vision you will see in this life.”

  EJ turned to Toño. “Doc, tell the bossy dragon there is no conscription in the future. You can't draft me.”

  “That much is true. But I was present when you warned us we would be foolish to act without your help. I too agree, teammate. As to your concerns regarding ierry, you'd have to address those to our squad leader.” There was definitely a wry grin on Toño's lips as he finished.

  EJ turned his head a moment, then focused on Mirraya. “Here's what I will do. I will listen to your proposals. If I think they are non-insane I will agree to partake.”

  “Your face-saving gambit is acceptable to me. May we now proceed?”

  “Aye, aye, ma'am.” EJ saluted her.

  “Do that again and I will remove your right hand,” she responded unemotionally.

  He grunted something in return.

  “What do you know of the extent and activity of Cleinoids in this galaxy, EJ?” she asked him directly.

  “First point of order. My name is Jon Alan Ryan, not EJ. You're going to need to stop addressing me thusly. It's hurtful.”

  “Poor baby,” cooed Sapale. “Here's the plan. You start acting like Jon Ryan and we'll start calling you by his sainted name. Up to that point, you're EJ. All other options are more hurtful. Any questions?”

  EJ returned a glare to Mirraya. “There are a few in our galaxy. I know of ten, not counting the three who've been killed so far.”

  “And what do you know of their threat outside the Milky Way galaxy?”

  He shrugged. “Not much. I do know their numbers are tremendous and the damage they're doing is horrific.”

  “Have you been to areas where their concentration is greater?”

  “Once. But I have sources. They all report back the same sad story. Where there's one ancient god there's a nightmare. Where there's more than one there's nothing left alive, standing, or worth having.”

  “How have the locals wherever they might be faired in terms of self-defense?”

  “Aside from the three DBs here, not well at all. The term a tsunami of lava comes to mind.”

  “DBs?” questioned Daleria.

  “Dead bodies, dear,” replied Sapale. “His brain's been stuck in military for a very long time.”

  “That confirms what we know and theorize,” said Mirraya. “Do you have any ideas how to expand our effectiveness against them?”

  “Aside from eliminating them one at a time? No. How about you?”

  She sighed deeply. “No. They are too powerful. With lesser beings we could strike as we did in the Battle of the Periphery. But to do so against most Cleinoids in numbers would fail quickly.”

  “So, what, there're maybe a million of them? If we take out two a day we'll be done in, oh, approximately way too late for most beings presently alive.”

  “We are aware of the starkness of the numbers.”

  “Mirraya and I have discussed this, EJ. You know of ten Cleinoids nearby. If we start killing them off it will send a beacon to those elsewhere. Our galaxy will draw in most if not all those Cleinoids battling elsewhere,” Daleria said evenly.

  “They care that much about their brothers and sisters?” EJ mocked.

  “No, they are that vengeful. Plus, they know if any resistance is successful it might duplicate itself. If they left it to build they might be at risk.”

  “You seem to know a lot about them. You write a book something?”

  “I'm one of them,” she said defiantly.

  “A little gal like you? Seriously?”

  EJ flew backwards and skidded on his back across the sharp rock. His jacket was shredded.

  “Who did that?” he howled as he popped to his feet. “You?” he shouted at Mirraya.

  “We all did,” replied Daleria. “Watch your mouth, teamboy.”

  “Teammate,” Mirraya said in polite correction.

  “This isn't working for me,” huffed EJ.

  “Then be nice. That works for us, numb nuts,” scolded Sapale.

  “Let's leave discussions of my nuts out of our conversation, brood's-mate.”

  “Consider them forgotten,” she said with a contented grin.

  “Let's begin by working as a team to take out one of the local Cleinoids,” announced Mirraya to cut the squabbling.

  “Fine by me,” replied EJ.

  “I know of a Suderbak wreaking havoc on a planet in the Wentworth System,” responded Mirraya. “You know him, Daleria?”

  “Her and yes. Wicked bitch badly in need of killing.”

  “Strengths and weaknesses?” asked Mirri.

  “A lot and basically none. She's the god of destitution, meaning creating it, not helping those in need. She's,” Daleria spread her arms wide, “big. Maybe eight feet wide, fifteen feet tall, weighs in around three tons. The usual, jaws that can crush steel, claws that can rip open a mountain, and a temper to match.”

  “Then I'd guess she's slow and stupid,” stated EJ.

  “Eh, yeah, sort of.”

  “Easy peasey. We surround her, confuse her, and bag her,” he said with confidence.

  “Maybe it's so easy we can skip her?” snarked Sapale.

  “Come on,” EJ retorted, “we can take my ship.”

  “We will use mine,” Mirraya replied firmly.

  “What? You don't trust me?”

  “If we take my ship I don't have to,” she responded flatly.

  “Lady's got a point,” he conceded. “Let’s go make the world a better place.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Suderbak was basically a blimp with legs. Not lighter than air though. She was heavier than most surfaces could support. When she walked the ground didn't just shake, it caved with each ponderous step. Though it would not be hard to track her, one would never want to because if one did catch up with her, one would have her to deal with. Not a pretty prospect.

  She was gleefully trampling the forest floor of Ruchbah A-1b. She was also trampling a goodly number of the inhabitants. Their screams and cries for mercy would have been unbearable to most creatures who understood them for what they were. Such was not the restraint of Suderbak. She reveled in the anguish and delighted in the squishy feeling of the recently deceased oozing through her cloned hoofs. Counting the additional seven planets she freed of the burden of supporting sentient life, she was well on her w
ay to enjoying the hell out of her current victim-world. Life could not, in her estimation, get any better.

  The inhabitants of Ruchbah A-1b never evolved to the level of any significant industrialization. A few steam engines and water wheels were about it in terms of technology. It was apparent they never would advance much further on account of their impending demise. Suderbak especially cherished the conquest of these simpler civilizations. Inevitably word would circulate that some form of divine retribution or demonic invasion was underway. The natives feared her all the more since she was the tool for what they were certain was their impending damnation. Good stuff, she reflected. Fun for her and double the mental torment for the pestilence she was clearing.

  There were once large cities on Ruchbah A-1b, or The Mother as the rapidly dwindling number of locals called it. Mostly constructed of wood, they burned with an intensity and speed Suderbak almost lamented because it was too fast to be enjoyed for any length of time. But it was perfect nonetheless. Once a good old firestorm initiated, there was no stopping the absolute destruction of the structures and the total immolation of the population.

  Suderbak charged out of the thick charred tree cover and up a steep hill. Soon she could see for miles in all directions, and all was a sight of beauty. Acrid smoke, boiling rivers, and flames rising to meet the clouds above. But she couldn't help noticing a small patch that seemed spared from her wrath. Oh my, she thought angrily, that would never do. She ran as best she could in the direction of the anomalous normality. Given her bulk, and the smattering of lingering souls fleeing every whichway who required stomping on, it took her almost half an hour to reach the green island of trees. But she was pleased that by that time she was good and angry. She felt marvelous.

  Suderbak hurled her frame toward the virgin turf. Icing on the cake, she saw five juicy pre-victims just standing absolutely still, waiting politely for her death blow. She almost—almost being the operative word—felt guilty for her excess of good fortune. He bliss came crashing down, as did her bulk. She struck a partial membrane at what for her was top speed. Recalling she was a whale with multiple legs, after ramming her snout she plopped back on her butt gracelessly. There she sat staring at the nothing that had just laid her low.

  Her joy transitioned to blue-hot rage in a flash. She charged forward again because she was both furious and not all that smart. Bang, she hit the invisible wall again. Switching tactics, she sped to her right before advancing. Again, she ended up rump-on-the-dirt and confused. A strategic retreat was in order. She made a one-eighty and steamed away to regroup. Kaboom! Crash. She realized she was trapped inside some form of bubble.