Torment of the Ancient Gods

by Craig Robertson

“Trust me now. It is a lethally dangerous undertaking to learn of … them. The scholars of old who knew that lived to write nothing about … them. Any bookworm foolish enough to actually document substance was quickly and quietly deleted from the hall of academia.”

  “You make them sound like bogeymen, the monster under the bed.”

  “They are nothing so benign or loving.”

  “So you do know about the ston …”

  “Silence!” he boomed. “You think I'm joking, don't you? Well I'm not. Do not repeat those words in any context involving me.” He sniffed and grunted loudly. “I'd disconnect if I thought I'd be rid of you, but I know better.”

  “Look, Phassor, just tell me what you know, or where to find that information, and you never see or hear from me again.”

  “Once I tell you and you go looking, I won't have to worry about seeing or hearing of you again. That much gives me great satisfaction.”

  “My old friend, you underestimate me. Lots of dead folk out there that have. We're talking me here.”

  “Your famous swagger. Well, if it works on … them I'll eat all my gonads. Yours too if you'd like.”

  “Nah, I'm good. But thanks. So …” Jon trailed off pregnantly.

  “I will say nothing directly about … them. But I will direct you to the Jasminian Monk Library of Peasdoor. Are you familiar with it?”

  “Heard of it. Peasdoor's in the Vestibular Galaxy, right?”

  “Yes. A long way from anywhere.”

  “Right in the middle of nowhere.”

  “That's the place. The head monk in the Cloistered Tower is a Liolipod named Seven Ways. Tell her I sent you.”

  “A her monk?”

  “Jon, don't be so provincial.”

  “My bad. Okay, what am I asking this Seven Ways gal to show and tell?”

  “After mentioning me, bring a stone. Show it to her and say the word witch. Make sure you say it in Standard, that way she'll place the word stone in the proper context.”

  “Isn't that a little cloak and dagger?”

  “Try it any other way and see what happens.”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you know what a Liolipod female looks like?”

  “Can't say I do.”

  “Since you're a student of Earth's history, think saber-toothed tiger only larger, faster, and less inclined to suffer a fool.”

  “A rock and a word in Standard. Got it. Jon Ryan never went looking for trouble.”

  “No, it always finds you.”

  The connection went dead. Jon rather hoped that was all that would be going dead during this adventure.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Toño sat at the mess table rubbing his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache that couldn't possibly come. He was kind of frustrated. Yeah, that was the concept. “So you insulted them, threatened them, conned them, and then agreed to meet again to hammer out further details in a few days.”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I replied as meekly as I could, which wasn't very much.

  “And you think in your wildest fantasies they will return for any reason in the world, well, aside from coming back to kill you and incinerate your bodies?” He seemed stressed.

  “Absolutely. By the way, let's not discuss my wildest fantasies in front of you-know-who Sapale.” I bunched up my shoulders. “But ask me later. Promise you will, okay?”

  Sapale shook her head. That was it. I was done. She didn't seem to care enough about my taunt to punch me or anything. Ah, marriage after the magic's gone.

  “This is a ryperation, Toño,” reminded Mirraya. “You know they're like that.”

  Toño visibly slouched. “I shall hate myself for it, but I must ask. What is a ryperation??

  “Doc, come on. A Ryan Operation, a ryperation.”

  “Yes, I must go to confession I feel so badly knowing,” he remarked as he slumped further. Poor guy.

  “You going to be okay, Toño?” asked Sapale with a look of true concern.

  He waved her away. “Yes, yes. Lo aguanto. Lo aguantare.” Sure, he could take it. Dude was tough.

  “I'm not clear on one point.”

  Who the hell? I spun and dropped. Then I saw the long lost and never missed Casper. On this occasion I had to ask, even though I knew I'd hate myself immediately after. “Where have you been?”

  “I might as well ask you the same question,” Casper responded.

  “I've been right here. Ask anyone.”

  “Then I must have been here too.”

  That ghost was about to get both barrels. “If you were here why didn't we see you? And you absolutely positively cannot keep your mouth shut. If you were here you'd be jibber jabbering for sure.”

  He said nothing.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “I recall having no valuable input and no questions up until now. Yes, that's explains my being taciturn.”

  “Taciturn,” I wheezed. “Okay, forget the hell out of everything. What are you not clear about?”

  “You fed the other conspirators a fabrication, a useless plan. They confessed to having no near-term plan either. Your two groups are acting more as insurance policies than threats to Vorc. What the frak are we doing here, team?”

  Frak? The ghost of who knew just quoted Firefly? Then it hit me. Casper was humanoid,maybe even human, in appearance. He'd nearly completed a transference from thin swirling apparition to a pale man. I did not see that coming. I relaxed a bit when I realized Casper might be humanoid, like many Cleinoids, but he couldn't be human. There never were any in this universe to die and become spooks.

  “We are attempting to see if we can gain any advantage in eliminating Vorc,” I replied coolly. “With him gone, the government such as it is will destabilize.”

  “I realize that,” Casper replied, sounding bored. A bored ghost? Yeah, I needed one of those in my life. “But I don't get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “Fine, Vorc's history. Someone takes his place. Where's the upheaval? Where are the streets layered with bodies?”

  “Those are best-case scenarios,” I defended weakly. “We might achieve only a partiality of our maximal goals.”

  “I think a corporate virus has infected your software, Jon,” responded a concerned Casper.

  “Very droll,” I replied.

  “I wasn't kidding.”

  “Then your insult was only very lame.”

  Toño had heard enough. “Casper, so we might actually learn something from you, why do you seem to object to our current scheme?”

  “For the universe, excluding Vorc will make no difference. Political intrigue, assassinations, and petty egos have dominated this world for a gazillion years. I mean, what do you think power-hungry gods do when they're not ravishing some other poor son of a bitch plane of existence? Political murder is kind of like taking the garbage out on a regular basis round these parts.”

  Casper was beginning to remind me of someone, though phase plasma pistol to my head, I could not recollect who. Wul? Maybe Harhoff, the only Adamant I actually liked? Oh well, no time to wander memory lane. Worse than anything, dude was beginning to sound like a beacon of correctness in the dense fog of lousy ideas.

  “So, what,” Daleria challenged, “you suggest we bail on the covert plan, Casper?”

  “Yes. Let's move on to something viably lethal to a lot of Cleinoids.”

  “Such as?” asked Mirraya sternly.

  “No idea,” Casper quickly replied. “I don't need a better vision to tell you another is piss-poor.”

  “Aren't we kind of invested in this one?” I whined.

  “Only as invested as you choose to be. We can be a million miles away from here by tomorrow,” reasoned Casper.

  “Ghost's got a point,” ventured Slapgren. “Unless something blindingly spectacular appears in a couple seconds, I think we cut our losses and bolt.”

  “Like?” I asked disapprovingly.

  “Like I have no idea either. Ditto what the ghost
said.”

  “”I say give it a few more days,” Sapale weighed in. “If it stays looking low yield, we split.”

  “I can live with that,” I responded.

  “So, let's push our new playmates a little harder,” said Slapgren with an oh-so-wicked grin. “Test their mettle.”

  “Uh oh,” cried Mirraya, “I should never have let him escape. Now he wants to have some fun.”

  “I'n not positive,” I winced, “but I think that's TMI.”

  “Oh grow up, Uncle Jon. You've seen us both naked,” teased back Mirraya.

  I stood and spoke loudly and clearly. “I only saw you kids naked involuntarily. Never voluntarily.”

  “There's a moral difference, Jon?” posed a very concerned-looking Daleria.

  “In his defense, after we shape-shifted we always ended up in the nude,” said Slapgren. “If he was around he got an eyeful.”

  “Is there any way we could change the discussion? Maybe to untimely and brutal death?” I was getting queasy.

  “I very much hope so,” Toño snapped. “Unless there is a substantial objection, I say we meet with the group of political malcontents one more time. If matters are not looking much brighter, we forget the entire affair.”

  “Which means we eliminate the witnesses, right?” asked Slapgren.

  “Yes. We can't let them know it's coming and we definitely can't let them escape,” I confirmed grimly.

  “You know what?” asked an overly quiet Sapale. “I wonder if they aren't discussing the very same thing concerning us. I'm not certain unique covert cells can even function together. That said, our two sure seem to be having trouble with the group hugs and kumbayas.”

  My mate was correct. “Then I'd say we're looking at a pretty fun final get-together, eh what?”

  “If your idea of fun is fast-paced, close-quarter mayhem with no guarantee of survival.” That Toño. Such a thrill killer.

  I gave Daleria specific instructions about the next contact she'd have with Festock. It was his turn to pick the spot. I told her it was entirely possible his group was planning to break off contact with us by way of our forced mass extinction. So, if she didn't know the location, the answer was no. If she knew it and it was too isolated, again, no. She kind of freaked out.

  “Jon, if I say no enough times he'll know I'm suspicious.”

  “So? If he reads that we're getting antsy, he's all that much more motivated to meet with us. How else can he hope to kill us? Kill-O-Gram? Death by vicious and unfounded gossip? No, if he reads you as afraid he'd be even more intent on meeting. Look, do your best. But I do not want to walk into an inescapable trap.”

  “I'll try,” she sighed.

  “You'll do fine. You're a natural at this.”

  She angled her head away. “Not certain that's a compliment.”

  “For an innkeeper, eh, no. For a warrior, yo big time.”

  I wasn't reassured by the response she made with her face. Seemed to say WTF have I gotten myself into. Maybe she just had gas.

  Thirty seconds later she opened her eyes and bobbed her head around. “Well that went weird.”

  “Did I ever tell you I love weird? Yeah, big fan. Not boring like no big deal.”

  “Then you'll love this. He said he wants to meet in Farkla Square, near the small pond at the center.”

  “Shall we bring a picnic?” I asked ingenuously.

  “He didn't mention refreshments. Farkla Square is public, I'll give him that.”

  “The problem being?”

  “It's right in front of Vorc's administrative building.”

  “How auspicious,” I said uncertainly.

  “You mean sus-picious,” added Sapale.

  “That too.”

  “We're not meeting them there, are we? You have not slipped inexorably into insanity yet, have you?” challenged Toño.

  “We either meet there or we bolt. If we split without an appropriate goodbye, we leave high-value snitches undeadified. Of course we meet.” I turned back to Daleria. “When?”

  “Dusk tomorrow.”

  “Dusk,” snapped Slapgren. “No one meets at dusk. Well, lovers maybe. I'm assuming Festock's not being romantic.”

  “I don't know about you, but I'm bringing flowers,” I said with a patented Jon smile.

  “I'll agree to the plan if you promise you will not ooze male hormones and Rambo-speak the entire time we're waiting,” said a displeased wife of mine.

  “The whole dang time? Come on, that's arbitrary and callous.”

  “All in favor of Jon not exuding macho pending a likely firefight, please indicate so by raising their right hand,” responded Sapale.

  Wouldn't you know it. Every hand, including Casper's, went up like rockets. Man, I got no respect.

  Naturally I focused a lot of spy-bots on the city center immediately. I instructed the Als to alert me and show me clear holos of everyone who entered the square. Festock was not going to have a chance to set up an ambush. Not on my watch. Before we headed out that next afternoon, twenty-seven individuals and three paper wrappers entered and left the park. None appeared overtly suspicious, and I included the paper in that assessment. Hey, in the land-o-gods, who knew anything?

  At the appointed hour Daleria, Mirraya, and I stepped out of a taxi and surveyed the park. My first impression? Pretty park like. Trees, pathways, garbage cans, and lawns. It was around a hundred meters to the center. I could just make out the pond Daleria referenced. Festock was presumably in there, but I couldn't ID him yet.

  “Let's enter here,” I said with a nod. “Slow, casual pace. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Got it?” That was mostly for Daleria's sake. She was kind of jumpy. A deadly trap with a powerful foe on their turf? Oh yawn. No large deal to me.

  Halfway in I made out Festock. He was with the individual currently atop my most barf-on-sight list, Aaaverd. A third person was with them, a slender, tall female humanoid. As we got closer, Festock stood and waved while Aaaverd began slowly flapping his wings. The female neither took notice not reacted in any visible manner. Cool cookie? Hired gun? Well, I was about to find out.

  “Clinneast,” Festock called out when I was in earshot. “Over here.” When we arrived he gestured to an empty bench that had been turned to face the one those three sat on. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Excuse me, Aaaverd,” I replied, “speak up. I couldn't quite hear y'all.”

  What a sourpuss. The expression on their plump face was priceless.

  “Festock,” said Daleria with a curt nod.

  “My dear,” he said with equal formality. “This is Bellicity. After I apprised her of our last contact, she insisted on meeting you.”

  “Bellicity,” I said with a wave. “Nice to finally meet you.” I recognized her, of course.

  “Finally?” she asked way too cordially.

  “Finally,” I repeated obliquely. I did a three count for effect. “Daleria's a big fan. Can't stop telling the story of how you two were introduced years ago.” I looked to Daleria.

  “Really, child, we've met? I don't recall that taking place.”

  “I used to run a bar south of Beal's Point. You came through with a large party after your pilgramage. Let me see, you were with Golloporse, FaFaFa, Bodelian, and, oh what was it's name, the one with spiral wings and a red fluffy tail?”

  “Sorromar. You have quite the memory.” Bellicity squinted at her. “You're a demigod, right?”

  “Yes I am.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps that's why I took no note of you.” Bellicity must've realized she was being as politically correct as a trumpet player at a funeral. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” I replied for Daleria. I wanted to throw this bitch off maximally.

  “I don't like him,” squealed Aaaverd as he wagged a finger at me. “I told you I didn't like him.”

  “Yes, you did,” Bellicity responded condescendingly. “Then again, you like so few others.”

  “I like you,” he repl
ied, clearly hurt.

  “Gosh, this is a fun journey down Who I Like Avenue,” I said with redlined snark. “I keep forgetting. Is that why we're here today in this lovely spot?” I gestured broadly to the park.

  Festock lost it. “Clinneast, you are rude, stupid, and rude. I speak for my group in saying we cannot tolerate you and refuse to cooperate with you.” He stood up bruquely.

  Jon, flew into my head. It was Sapale and she was scared. You're blown. The park is surrounded by dudes in heavy capes with hoods pulled over their heads. If they had scythes, they’d all look like the Grim Reaper.

  Number and weapons? I asked.

  Ten, no obvious weapons but the robes are bulky.

  They wouldn't be proper robes if they weren't heavy wool and loose. Stand ready to cover our retreat.

  Roger that, she replied.

  I looked at Mirraya. That was all it took to let her know. My girl was that good. She transformed into a flaming dragon. Seriously. Six feet of scales, muscles, and fire. “You have betrayed us. For that sin you will die.” Mirri drew back an arm and let fly a roiling incendiary cloud.

  Aaaverd had just enough time to look at Festock.

  Festock had just enough time to scream, “It wasn't …”

  They erupted into blue shrouds. Both tried to scream, but all the air was consumed before their lives were. Instead of sound, the last witness to Festock's and Aaaverd's demise was a pantomime of horrific silent torment.

  Then Jon noticed an anomaly. Bellicity was not burning. No, she sat with an impassive, almost bored look on her face. She all but yawned. Mirraya's flames evaporated into nothingness. Only then did Bellicity seem to notice there'd been an event. She stood with a practiced grace and bowed to Mirri. “Thank you for doing me the favor of disposing with that traitorous scum. It saves me the dreary task of seeing to it myself.”

  Status? I said to Sapale.

  All ten holding position. Jon, they appeared out of nowhere. They were … they were just there.

  Land of the ancient gods, my dear. Happens all the time.

  What's your status?

  Mirri just incinerated two of the three conspirators.

  Why did she leave one behind?

  I'm about to find out. Stand by.

  Roger that.