Torment of the Ancient Gods

by Craig Robertson

“Bellicity, m'dear. You do not appear to burn? Are you a water god?” I asked with a smirk.

  She harrumphed joylessly. “Hardly anything so mundane. I'm a god who can move between planes of existence.”

  “Which would come in handy when all about you becomes a conflagration.”

  “Witness the results. I was only here in one dimension. You could see me but I could not be burned.”

  “And that leaves really but one question, doesn't it?”

  “How can I pull that off while still looking so marvelous?” she returned with a friendly smile.

  “Yes, that, and why it is we are surrounded by men in robes at the very moment you did not combust?”

  “Does seem a bit of a stretch, doesn't it?” she replied.

  “Place my name in the YES column please.”

  “Well, there is no coincidence, only kismet. You see, I, like you, was attempting to infiltrate this group of conspirators. I, unlike you, was successful.”

  “I'm betting you, unlike me, work for Vorc too.”

  “My but you're the fast study. I do. When that idiot Festock told me the outlines of your plan to assassinate Vorc, I know you were a player, not a true believer.”

  “How so?”

  “Come come. Your so-called plan was smoke and mirrors designed to fool a fool. You have no designs on the center seat's life.” She reflected a moment. “I'm not exactly certain what your game is, though I will find out soon enough.”

  I twisted my lips. “Hmm. Not likely, actually.”

  “I admire your bravado, false though it is.”

  “There's nothing false about me, babe.”

  That remark wiped the treacle smile off her face. “I've never been called babe before. I do believe I detest it. Say it again and you will feel my wrath.”

  “What, and abort the painful torture to extract the truth from me? That's awfully shortsighted of you, babe. No way to run a railroad.”

  Man. She duplicated the exact same disgusted look it took Sapale two billion years to perfect in an instant.

  “My guards surround us.”

  “I am aware. All ten are holding position at the perimeter of the park. They're wearing holocaust cloaks and scarring little children in an inappropriate manner. Little ones will be marred for life.”

  “Excellent magical knowledge, Clinneast, or whatever your real name is.”

  “Puddin' Tame. Ask me again and I'll say the same.”

  “You are insufferable. You know that, right?”

  “He knows it,” Mirraya responded quickly.

  “As I was saying. My guards surround us. In a moment I will have them close in on you. Then we will all go visit Vorc. I'm certain he's anxious to meet you.”

  “Oh, I'm betting he's not,” I scoffed. “But we will never know.”

  “Why? Because you will not be taken alive? My, how dramatically pointless.”

  “Sure, let's call it that. You'll never take me alive, babe. I'm not going back to prison, never, ya hear?”

  “Do you know who the ten guards are under those robes?”

  “No, but this sounds like a swell game. Okay, give me one hint, then tell me if I'm getting warmer.”

  “They're hounding vampires.”

  I giggled like an idiot. Trust me, it wasn't all that hard.

  “That strikes you as funny?” she said with displeasure.

  “Well, duh. I mean, if they're busy hounding vampires they won't have time to capture us,

  now will they?”

  “Clinneast,” whispered a Daleria about ready to crawl out of her skin. “Hounding vampires are called that because they hound their prey until one of them is dead. They never stop once they have your scent. Nine million times to one they do the killing. Do not taunt them, please.”

  “You would be wise to listen to your little demigod friend on that point,” Bellicity said, pointing to Daleria.

  “Wise? Me. Come on, babe. I got no time for wisdom.”

  With that I threw up a full membrane around Mirraya, Daleria, and myself. Bet Bellicity didn't see that coming, the smug bitch.

  “Great, Mr. Hero,” cried out Sapale. “Now we’re surrounded by gods you pissed off and we're immobile. Sheer genius. Smooth move.”

  “I got this,” I replied, batting my palms toward the ground. “Sheesh. Have a little faith.”

  “I know this drill. I ask what your next move is and you say you'll tell me as soon as you come up with it. Am I right?” That wife of mine had a mouth.

  “Maybe. No, seriously. I have a plan and it's outstanding. It relies on assets Bellicity and her monkeys couldn't anticipate.”

  “Namely?” she spit back.

  “Casper.” I gestured to my right. Nothing. “Casper,” I repeated louder.

  “Oh boy,” wheezed Daleria.

  “Is there another me over there?” asked Casper, who was standing to my left.

  “No, thank goodness. Hey, we're in kind of a pickle.”

  “Kind of? Is there a pickle-like state more pickle-ly than this? I don't think so.”

  Everybody's a comic. “Look, I'm going to need some outside intel. I need you to slip out and keep me posted as to where the bitch and where the guards are. I'll open a pinhole to maneuver and communicate.”

  “Sure,” he said, and he was gone.

  Are they still holding outside the park? I said head-to-head.

  No. They're converging rapidly.

  Hang on.

  No prob.

  Remember I held Tefnuf in a membrane? Yeah, I had to bag her when we emerged into this universe. Well, she was still under wraps. I maneuvered that full membrane from the Lower Chambers to the park. I set it right between Bellicity and our current position. Then I did something very cruel to my would-be captor. I released Tefnuf right in Bellicity's face. I waited a couple seconds then called to Casper. The guards still converging on us?

  Negative and I'll be damned, no. They're all a few feet from Tefnuf, and boy is she mad. I've never seen her this tweaked. It's .. it's sweet, that's what it is. Uh oh. Now she's slinging power bolts at them all. Oh crap, Bellicity just lost an ear. Bitch couldn't phase out fast enough. Man this is …

  Delay that. I opened the side of the membrane opposite to the action but maintained a shield so they couldn't see or target us. The booming of Tefnuf's bolts was … well, it was sweet. I waved an arm to direct the other two toward safety. “Move,” I ordered. “Along a straight line, double time it.”

  At the edge of the park Toño and Sapale met us with a damn magic carpet. He, being a kid at heart, became an instant fan. Anyway, we all jumped on and made for the stratosphere.

  “Neat escape, Houdini,” said Sapale in a sarcastic tone. “But either Bellicity or Tefnuf is going to tell Vorc you're back. You know that?”

  “Hey, once Bellicity unleashed the vampire thingies our cover was blown. If I didn't use Tefnuf Bellicity would have outed us. Doesn't matter which bitch tells on us.”

  She shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “And check this out. If Tefnuf tells him it was me when Vorc knows I'm dead, he'll probably dismiss her as drunk and stupid—again.”

  That got a smile out of my wife.

  “And Bellicity can say it was someone, but she can't know it was Ryanmax returned from the dead.”

  “She could simage him your face, idiot,” snapped Toño.

  “Not exactly,” corrected Daleria. “Simaging is a message. Images are harder and less precise.”

  I raised my palms in acknowledgement of a minor triumph.

  Sapale just shrugged again and looked away.

  After multiple evasive maneuvers, we rendezvoused back at Stingray with the others. I must admit, I was pretty darn proud of myself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The alternate timeline Jon Ryan squatted in an open grassy expanse and fiddled with some wiring. It ran to a set of boxes arranged in a haphazard manner a few feet away. He quietly whistled The High and the Mighty. Finally he was s
atisfied with the connections. He stood and gave his odd setup a recheck. He was satisfied with the configuration. His next task was much tougher. He had to decide if he was actually going to switch the damn contraption on. There were no do-overs in a gambit that dicey.

  In the end, he thought what the hell and threw the switch. The jerry-rigged communication device began broadcasting a repeating binary signal on multiple subspace channels. He added multiple conventional frequencies too, but since they only traveled at the speed of light they were unlikely to reach the ears he sought in a useful timeframe.

  The message was a simple one. It was also quite likely suicidal. He set forth into the universe the following invitation.

  Stone Witches, you are discovered. Come to the location of this transmission and meet the one who knows of your existence. I will announce you to the world in twenty-hour hours if you do not show up. I wish to discuss an important matter with the antigods.

  Then Jon sat and rested back on one of the larger boxes. He began whistling the same tune again. He closed his eyes and waited. He only wished he could still nod off and nap lightly while waiting. It would have been a nice dramatic accent, the perfect touch.

  It would've been, however, a short nap. In less than an hour Jon leapt to his feet at the sound of nearby thunder or a powerful explosion. He scanned the perimeter but saw nothing. Then a second thunderclap vibrated his teeth and shook leaves off several trees. Then his noisy company revealed themselves. Jon couldn't help himself. He began to chuckle softly. Sure, it was unwise to laugh in the face of omnipotent gods and his likely imminent death, but seriously. He was being approached by an elephant dressed as a clown and a fat pile of rocks. They moved with all the grace and ease of fish out of water.

  The two figures stopped a few feet away from Jon. The pile of rocks spoke first. “You are the fool who would call the wrath of the Stone Witches on himself?”

  “That'd be correct. I'm Jon Ryan. Nice to finally meet you.”

  “Any pleasant quality of our presence will be as short-lived as you, Jon Ryan,” menaced the elephant. “No one dares threaten the antigods without suffering completely and eternally.”

  “Ah, sorry. I've already been to New Jersey. I was stationed there at McGuire AFB for the longest six months in the recorded history of time.”

  The elephant glanced over to the rock pile. Jon couldn't be certain, but he thought they exchanged WTF-puzzled looks.

  “No one has ever made light of the curse that is our condemnation. You are either the least intelligent or most rash being we have ever encountered,” said the rocks.

  “Or both,” corrected Jon. He held up a finger. “Do not discount the possibility of me being both. By the way. I introduced myself. Isn't this the part where you introduce yourselves?”

  “Stone Witches do not introduce themselves to insignificant specks like you. We are only here to kill you.”

  “No, I feel I need to set you straight yet again. If you were only here to kill me, either I'd be dead or you'd be toast. No, you’re here to talk, probably pump me for information, and then kill me.”

  The pair exchanged the same quizzical glance as before.

  “Did you suggest you might even stand one chance in a million of harming either of us?” wheezed an incredulous pile of stones.

  “No.”

  “Ah. That's better,” responded the clowniphant.

  “I said I might kill the both of you. Big diff there, Peanut.”

  “Peanut? What does a groundnut seed have to do with anything?” asked the pile.

  “Oh, sorry. Inside reference I guess. Where I come from all elephants are nicknamed Peanut. Well, that or Peanuts. That's on account of the fact that elephants love them some peanuts. Lots and lots of peanuts.”

  “Are you aware of just how many times and how insufferably we are going to kill you?” the elephant challenged angrily.

  “I can only imagine. But seriously, as to why I called you here. As you …”

  The assembly of rocks bellowed the word silence. But to say he did does not encompass the volume, intensity, and fury with which he uttered it. Fissures cracked open in the earth and birds fell dead from the sky. Dude was serious.

  “A simple please would have made the same point much less painfully, sir,” quipped Jon. “So, you probably know the Cleinoids are back in this universe. I want to discuss an alliance between your people and mine. A mutual defense force, if you will. We can draw up a formal treaty and everything if you want.”

  The rock pile began to gyrate so violently Jon fully expected it to fly apart. Through his quaking he managed to say, “We do not ally with any mortal beings. That the pestilence otherwise known as the Cleinoids have returned is insignificant to the Stone Witches.”

  “Yeah? Well it's not so insignificant to most lifeforms 'round these parts,” returned Jon. “If you haven't noticed, they're sweeping across the universe killing and destroying with reckless abandon.”

  “We care nothing for the fate of others either,” replied the funny-looking pachyderm.

  “Of others either? Man, that's a tortured tongue twister.”

  Jon got them to exchange a third bewildered glance.

  “We feel it's best if we move directly to the multiple killing of you segment of our presence,” announced the rocks. “You are clearly insane and deranged. It would be cruel to subject you to further life.”

  “Don't go to any trouble on my behalf, gentlemen.”

  “No trouble,” responded the rocks.

  “In fact it'll be a dirty pleasure,” added the elephant with a snicker.

  “Okay, if you insist.”

  “We do,” confirmed the stones.

  “One tiny tiny thought first, if you'll indulge me.”

  “No and we will not,” replied the massive jester.

  “Once the Cleinoids have killed every other living being in this universe, they will come for you. Can you be certain they have not evolved, learned, or chanced upon by accident a way to meaningfully harming you?”

  “Yes,” they both said instantly and without reservation.

  “It has always been so and always will be so,” amended the rocks.

  “So they cannot possibly change? It is impossible for the Cleinoids to manage to eke out an advantage over y'all?”

  “It's not fair to place it in that context,” protested the elephant. “Technically anything is possible. But Cleinoids amounting to anything, that's about as close to impossible as impossible can be.”

  “So you admit there might be a threat to the Stone Witches unless they ally with the rest of the universe?”

  “I didn't say that,” protested the elephant.

  “Oh yes you did, didn't he?” Jon asked of the stone pile.

  “What Dumblemount said could be interpreted in that light if one was willing to strain credulity severely.”

  “There. You heard it from your own BFF. You need us. We need you. Let's get together and do some ass kicking.”

  “No,” announced a third booming voice approaching from behind the two antigods. “I knew sending you two was a mistake,” scoffed Vorioc. He was in human form.

  “What?” whined Cacucack, the rock pile antigod.

  “What?” questioned Vorioc incredulously. “I sent you two to annihilate some wiseass upstart and you enter into an alliance with him? Rookie meat. I think it's best for your health to leave now and hope you don't run into me for eons.”

  “We were about to crush him. We really really were, Vorioc. You're always lording this over us or that over us,” babbled Dumblemount. “It's not fair.”

  “Fair? I'll give you unfair. Dealing with you two lunkheads,” screamed Vorioc. “That's unfair to me.”

  “It's always about you,” mumbled Cacucack.

  “What did you say?” snapped Vorioc.

  “Nothing,” replied a contrite Cacucack.

  “He said if you need us, please summon us back,” said Dumblemount, attempting to cover for his b
uddy.

  “Not in this eternity,” spit back Vorioc.

  The two antigods skulked away.

  “As to you, Jon Ryan. Please allow no worry for the Stone Witches to reside in your mind. The Cleinoids are a petty nuisance at best, nothing more. Go in peace. Know, however, that if you mention our existence to a soul, your death will be as brutal as it is swift.”

  “What? You're setting me free? No morbid demise as promised?”

  “No. You bested my two idiot associates. That is a unique occurrence, trust me. Such an accomplishment should not go unrewarded.” Vorioc turned and began walking away.

  “Vorioc, please. All my antics to the side. I'm begging you. The Cleinoids are leveling unholy hell on us. Please help.”

  “We would never associate with or aid others. Trust me on this also. It is not our way. It is not, as you might say, in our better nature.”

  “Then we will all surely die.”

  Vorioc considered Jon's words, then nodded faintly. “Most likely.”

  “How can you sentence us to that fate?”

  Vorioc laughed genuinely. “Excellently played, Jon. But we do not sentence you. The Cleinoids do.”

  “Your omission is a commission. Don't put lipstick on that pig.”

  “My what a colorful metaphor. Lipstick on pork. How bemusing.”

  “Don't you mean amusing?”

  “Does it even possibly matter, wind-up man?”

  “No. I guess I just want to keep you talking.”

  Vorioc turned to fully face Jon. “You are unique, robot. You challenge me if ever so minutely. I'll tell you what. I will part with a gift if you do in kind. How does that sound?”

  “A white-elephant gift exchange? Sure, why the hell not?”

  “Why the hell not indeed,” confirmed Vorioc with a silly grin.

  “But I didn't have time to shop. Can I mail you yours?” asked Jon wryly.

  “No need. Your gift to me will be your eternal silence on the subject of Stone Witches. Can you promise that?”

  Jon wagged his head a moment. “Yes, I can. I promise the secret of your existence is safe with me.”

  “Forever and a day?”

  “Forever and a day.”

  “Thank you. I accept. And now my gift to you.”