by Ty Beltramo
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I found myself on my back looking up at a gently rotating psychedelic blob. Staring straight up at it made me want to vomit.
It was Biolos, but he was no longer crystalline nor spherical. He looked more like fifty gallons of many-colored paint in zero gravity.
“What happened? Did you chicken out, you coward?” I said. I could hear the battle right outside. Time was almost up.
“Not at all, Elson. I learned exactly what I needed,” Biolos answered. The dismay that had permeated the place was gone. Now expectant joy flooded the chamber. There was something familiar about it.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Duh,” Biolos said. Uh oh.
“Biolos, you’ve changed.”
“Yeah. Like I said, I got what I needed. And you’ve rubbed off on me, but just a little.”
There was a slightly sinister sound to that. Great. Not only had I unleashed a super powerful elemental into the world, I’d made it a cynic at the same time. Perfect. I could hear any remaining karma points I had flushing down the cosmic toilet.
“If you took what you needed, then why am I still alive? I thought the kind of dissection that you needed would be lethal to an Engineer,” I said.
“Yes. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you’re not an Engineer.”
“What?”
“I said . . .”
“Yeah, I heard what you said. I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re not an Engineer.”
“What?”
Biolos sighed. “This is going to be a long day, I can tell already.”
“How can that be?” I asked. “How did you get what you need, if I’m not an Engineer?”
“Ha! Now that’s a good question--two, in fact. Concerning the second, you have studied the inner workings of Engineers all your life. That, your unique skills and tricks, combined with the knowledge you gained of Melanthios through the inspection of his enchantment, was all I needed.
“Concerning your first question as to how can it be that you are not an Engineer, I do know the answer. But I’m not going to tell you.”
“What? Why not?”
“Let’s just say that, like you, I’m very loyal to my friends. If a certain friend of mine wanted you to understand everything in one shot, he’d have told you.”
“Well, that’s just great,” I said.
“Hey. Don’t sweat it. We’re friends, almost brothers, you and I. So I won’t leave you hanging, Elson. I’ll do something for you almost as good.”
“What, you’ll kill me after all?”
“Uh, no. But I’ll tell you something about your role, your purpose.”
Now, that sounded good--finally some clarity. “I’m all ears,” I said.
“You are the Jester.”
Okay. “And . . .”
“The Jester’s purpose is to challenge all convention. All things that endure must withstand his will. Death kills. The Jester sifts.”
“And . . .” I said.
“And that’s all I’m saying.”
Nice. Before I could berate Biolos with any particularly creative insults, the door to the pyramid erupted with fighting, right on time.
“Well, I’ve got to go. There’s payback that needs to be administered--with about a million years of compound interest.”
What had I done?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Biolos shot down the hallway, out the door and collided with a crowd of Engineers rushing in. The clash was spectacular. Energy bursts that shook the foundations of the great pyramid ensued. Within about three seconds Engineers were fleeing in every direction. I could hear Biolos laughing as he went.
Those unintended consequences were going to be the end of me for sure.
I emerged from the pyramid and entered a sea of violence. Thousands of Engineers were pressing against the combined armies of the elementals. It was a strange sight to see. The Engineers, being spirit beings, were naturally resistant to the forces of the elementals, which influenced the material world. Likewise, the psychic energies of the Engineers had little effect on the elementals.
But the primal power of the elementals wreaked havoc with the pyramids. Dozens had been destroyed, prompting Builders to appear and commence repairs immediately, despite the ongoing battle. Thankfully, the Builders appeared to be immune to the weapons of both sides.
The whole thing looked like some form of dance rumble out of a Broadway show.
The Preceptors had their hands full. Biolos, more powerful than ever, was circling like an angry hornet, casting laser-like beams of energy at any of the Apolloi who were foolish enough to cluster around the Preceptors. Each shot immobilized one of the creatures. But Biolos’s movements were becoming more and more erratic as I watched.
I could see the problem at once. The smarter Apolloi were making a run for it. Biolos, for all his new strength, was not fast enough to herd them together and fight them at the same time, all the while trying to avoid the howitzer-like attacks of the Preceptors.
At that moment, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I turned and looked up at the top of the pyramid. A dark figure perched on the peak, its face shrouded in shadow. Its heavy black cloak billowed to one side in the wind. A large scythe rested lazily on one arm. It casually surveyed the scene before it, as if the outcome was only of passing interest.
I pointed at the figure, then violently pointed to my feet. The creature slowly looked behind itself, then back at me, raising a pale hand, pointing to itself in a questioning gesture.
I mouthed, “Yes! You!” and again thrust my finger in the direction of my feet.
The creature slid down the side of the pyramid, stopping right in front of me.
I got in Death’s face. “You! I said ‘key’ operatives. K-E-Y. Key. Not ‘all.’ What were you thinking?”
“You did? Really? I was sure you said ‘all.’”
“I would expect someone with your responsibilities would pay closer attention to details like that,” I said.
He pulled the hood back to reveal his fair-skinned face. His blue eyes sparkled. His blond hair waved in the wind.
“Well, I’m sure someone said ‘all.’”
“Someone? Would that someone possibly be Diomedes, per chance?” I asked.
“Yes. Diomedes. He must have said ‘all.’” He shrugged. “Besides,’key’ is such a subjective term. It could mean anything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right.”
He waved his scythe at the battle. “Just like old times, don’t you think?”
A feeling of déjà vu hit me.
“No. What do you mean, ‘old times?’” I asked.
His teeth twinkled in a giant grin.
“Still don’t remember, huh? You and I, we put Biolos in that thing,” he said, pointing his scythe now at the pyramid, “the last time. The Patron sent us here, you and me, when this whole thing started. Way back. We fought—just like this.”
Something about what he was saying rang true. I could feel it. There were memories, deep down, calling out, but I couldn’t get a handle on them. They eluded me like the name of a person I met long ago. It was right there, but defied any attempt to bring it forward.
He sighed. “Okay, a quick recap for the brain-damaged member of the team. We planned to capture Biolos and imprison him here. But the Preceptors held him, so we lured them into a trap to attempt an ambush. At the last minute, they were made aware of our plans. We still don’t know how. So we had it out with them. Scoubalos held Biolos’s leash. You fought him personally.”
“Scoubalos?” The name was familiar, but I didn’t know of any Preceptor with that name.
Death nodded. “That’s why there are only eleven Preceptors now. They’ve got number twelve locked up in some padded room on Mount Megiddo, peeing himself. You both ended up--how can I say it--brain damaged. Scoubalos has never recovered, as far as I know. It took you a long time to show any signs of li
fe. You weren’t dead, but for all the mental activity we sensed, you might as well have been. We placed you in that cave and sealed you in, to protect you. For ages, literally, you stayed there. Then, for no reason we could see, you awoke. We nurtured you back to health--‘health’ being a relative term, not meant to imply anything about your current mental state. You’re a lot more mellow than you used to be.”
That little voice in my head, that’s what it was: my old self trying to get out. That’s scary. But it explained a lot.
“So, you’re Death and I’m the Jester?”
It was Death’s turn to roll the eyes.
“And the Patron?” I asked.
Death nodded. “Our boss. She was far away the last time this went down. One of us--I won’t say which--acted impulsively and got us into trouble before we had the proper forces lined up behind us. So we had to handle it ourselves in the beginning. That’s how you got lobotomized. The Patron showed up at the end and finished the job. I mean the battle, not the lobotomy.”
I looked around at the ensuing chaos.
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“Probably taking aspirin for the splitting headache.”
“Headache?”
“Yeah. You’re little call stunt practically split her brain in two. You’re lucky she really likes you.”
“Yeah. I can tell she likes me. I feel so blessed.”
Death shrugged. “So, you feeling up to wading into this mess? We really should help Biolos subdue the Apolloi. He’s having a hell of a time up there.”
Things were looking grim.
“What about the Preceptors?” I asked.
Death rubbed his chin while he studied me. “True. I doubt you’d last long out there. You’re not exactly your old self. But if we don’t do something soon we’ll have a new hobby: hunting down demons from the Abyss as they rampage through the cosmos. Sounds fun, but I’ll pass.”
“I killed one, I think,” I said.
“Yeah. I heard. In the Abyss. That, by the way, was against the rules.” He pointed a bony finger at me.
“Well, perhaps someone should have explained that to me before I ended up in the Abyss.”
Death put up the palms of his hands in a ‘not my problem’ gesture. “Just saying . . .”
I watched as the flock of demons circled and dodged like a cloud of mosquitos around an old lightbulb. They were a hateful bunch. Malice for revenge blinded them from their danger. All they wanted was to kill when they should be high tailing it out of here.
I was worried about Els, Rolic, and the team. There were probably defenseless. At any moment they could become lunch. What we needed was a better-looking chicken to lure the jackals.
I picked up a large rock. “I have an idea,” I said. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I flew through the center of the storm, making token attacks on as many of the Apolloi as I could. They were battling Biolos, but they remembered me—and hated me. They couldn’t decide whether to continue to fight or break off to chase me.
Death flew circles around the Preceptors, herding the Apolloi with fearsome strength. Holding the scythe, he reminded me of the Wicked Witch of the West, flying on her broom. He laughed like her too.
I held up the rock and commanded its atoms to release all their energy. Light, trapped since the beginning of time, burst forth with wild life. I inhaled it and kept it in. My mind burned. I couldn’t think. All I wanted to do was let it all free. I was dimly aware of the cloud of demons closing in on me.
Biolos, now free to focus on his attack, began the frantic work of dealing with the rest of the Apolloi. As their numbers diminished, Death spent more time sending jabs at the Preceptors, trying to draw their fire away from Biolos.
A squad of Sentinels fell from the sky in a coordinated attack. I used a considerable amount of energy to build a solid shield to ward off their weapons, which were less threatening now. I then began the methodical work of disabling them one at a time. I don’t remember when Death joined me. At some point we began to work as a team. With me defending, he was able to scare the others away using gratuitous amounts of strength.
But the delay enabled several of the approaching Apolloi to get close and attack us. We turned and reversed the strategy. Death put up a shield and I went on offense.
The monsters raged against us. I recognized the malice of one of them. It was my old friend Legion.
“Legion,” I called. “I owe you big, pal. This one’s for Aello.” I aimed a tight jet of anger at the thing’s heart. In my disoriented state, I couldn’t control the flow. Legion’s lattice exploded in a shower of spiritual sparks, then dissipated.
Several of the Preceptors turned to me, hatred in their eyes. The Apolloi paused. Even their malignant madness couldn’t blind them to their peril.
“Uh, Jester. That’s against the rules, man. I told you . . .” Death said.
I stared back at the Preceptors, but said to Death. “Don’t care. And the name’s Elson.”
Then to the Preceptors: “How’s Scoubalos? You guys ready to join him? I’m ready to make it so.” I was venting. If Death was right about my past, I had nothing like the power I once had. But the raw energy and the battle had pushed me over the edge of crazy. And these guys were at the root of it all.
A voice from behind me shook the hills.
“Enough, Jester.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Death said quietly in my ear.
The Patron had come. Finally.
The fighting stopped. Biolos had finished his job. Quivering fuzz-balls of evil littered the ground at the Preceptors’ feet. The elementals backed away. The Engineers stood still. The Preceptors snarled. Every one of them.
The Patron stepped over the hills and into the building site. She was a titan. Her long black hair trailed down her back to her waist. Her eyes were the color of the night sky, with galaxies swirling within them. In her left hand was a rod the size of an onyx sequoia. In her right hand was a sphere made of what looked like snakes of lightning.
The Patron looked familiar. I couldn’t place her, but I’d seen her face before.
She met the combined glare of the Preceptors. “Where is Scoubalos?” The titan thundered.
Glial, the Preceptor who ruled over Melanthios, stepped forward. “He is safe from you, Patron of Man. You have no authority here, or over us in any place.”
“Summon him,” the titan thundered.
“We will not,” Glial stated flatly.
The Patron looked at me and Death. If I wasn’t so pissed, I’d have peed myself.
“My servant, Death. Fetch him.”
Death bowed, and was gone.
“You overstep your bounds, Patron,” Glial said.
The titan smiled. “You do not set my bounds, Glial. As you shall soon see.”
The Patron seemed to have things under control. I started toward the place I had last seen my friends.
“Be still, Jester,” the titan commanded.
Wow. Was I not getting any less grumpy.
“The name’s Elson, Ms. Patron, and I have friends who need me. I’ll be seeing to them, if you don’t mind.”
The titan sighed dirt off the pyramids.
“Your friends are well, my servant, Jester. But I don’t suppose you can be stopped. You never could. It is your way. Proceed. They are there.” The Patron pointed to one corner of the building site.
The standoff between the superpowers continued while I went to my friends. I searched the area and found several Engineers, dazed and confused. But they were well. Rolic was seeing to them.
A voice, shrill as a harpy’s, grated my nerves from behind. “Elson, you complete idiot. How could you have done this? You left me out here all by myself, right in the middle of a pitch battle between forces of Law, Chaos, eleven Preceptors, and a host of elementals. What were you thinking?”
I turned to see Els. She was burned and smoldering, in many ways. But she looked good.
She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to straighten her clothes. Some of the proper business woman remained, after all.
“What about the artifact? Did you get it?” She asked.
I looked around, and pointed a thumb at the giants behind me. “Don’t you think the point is moot?” I asked.
She looked over my shoulder and shrugged. “I suppose.”
She folded her arms across her chest and managed to look put out.
Rolic appeared beside her. His black suit was gone. Instead he wore brown corduroy pants and an unbuttoned black flannel shirt with a grey tee shirt underneath. He didn’t match.
“Elson, what’s happening up there? Who’s that?”
“That’s the Patron of Man, whatever that means,” I said. “It appears she used to be my boss.”
“What are they doing?” He asked.
I scratched my head and turned to the crowd of giants staring at one another. “Not sure. But if any of them starts a ruckus, duck.”
“Was that Biolos attacking the Apolloi?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
He strained to see. “Interesting.”
“So, what’s next?” Els asked. “Are we just going to sit here and wait for them to make the next move?”
I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Uh . . . yeah.”
“There’s nothing we can do?”
“Sit tight, Els. This isn’t over. I’m going to go listen in.”
I made my way back to the cluster of giants and stood at the feet of the Patron.
The ball of lightning snakes fizzed and popped in her massive hand. The rod was firmly planted in the sand of the building site. The group could have been a crowd of statues, for all they moved.
“So, Ms. Patron, while we wait you wouldn’t have time for some questions, would you?” I asked.
The air heaved, as the titan took a deep breath. “This time is reserved for judgment, Jester.”
