They came to a low, wide natural cavern that looked like a great mouth punctuated by teeth of stone. Cold droplets of water clung to their skin and dropped from the ceiling, sputtering in their torches. They saw that it was a nexus where many smaller tunnels met, each marked by a sign. Entering, they saw a simple wooden bridge spanning a dark gorge in the middle of the cavern. Wodi took the lead, thinking to scout out the place, and something brittle cracked underfoot. They held their torches low to examine, then pulled back in horror.
One great field of bones stretched before them.
Ribs and femurs pointed towards the black sky. Grinning, black-eyed skulls, all twins in death, collected dust and bat droppings. Tiny finger bones crunched underfoot as they walked. They saw that heads and spines had been lined along either side of the bridge, a sign that the unbelievable nightmare that had claimed so many of their kind had not been without an intelligence of its own. But the fact that many bins of coal and glinting metal were overturned and laid unclaimed among the bones proved that the nightmare intelligence was utterly alien and uninterested in the affairs that drove humans. Wodi felt nauseous and his own words earlier in the day came back to haunt him. Standing among the bones and imagining their endless night opened his eyes: His species already was at war, at war against something black and soulless, cold and hungry, and if the people of Haven hid behind their ring of mountains and lived in a fantasy then surely they could not be blamed.
They stepped onto the aging wooden bridge. It was no more than a dozen feet long, a few feet wide, and it buckled in the middle. Wodi stopped in the middle and looked over the side. A pool of black water glimmered below. Something splashed within, then there was a spark of phosphorescence. Wodi saw a school of pale, glowing fish. Drifting through the black, they seemed like outcast stars floating free in a lawless cosmos.
Just then, purple light shone from a tunnel up ahead. Marlon aimed the shotgun, but the source was still too distant. His vision was speckled with tracers of light, but as he peered into the dark he thought he could see two empty black eyes peering back at him, unmoving. Peter’s hands shook and his torch cast maddening, dancing shadows.
At that moment, as Wodi realized that Marlon was staring into a purple light in the tunnel ahead, the bridge bucked and a vicious reptilian head rose at Wodi. Scared witless, Wodi leaped back and stumbled as Serpens Rex climbed over the side. Wodi waved his arms about and fell over the side. He heard a scuffle, shouting, saw a torch fly free, the shotgun roared, then he hit the cold water and his torch died beside him. The water was not deep and Wodi’s back hit hard earth; always he kept his left hand upraised, kept the shotgun shells dry, the ammunition that he’d clutched desperately the entire time.
As he struggled to rise he heard a terrible roar, then saw a body fall from the bridge and hit the water on the far side. More scuffling, then the shotgun flew over his head and slapped into the water. He slogged away from the bridge, desperate for speed that would not come, then grasped the shotgun. He was filled with confusion, awful and wrenching. He did not know if the others were alive or dead and, in a moment of soul-crushing cowardice, he turned away from the bridge and ran through the freezing water deeper into the tunnel.
He was lost in darkness and raked his knuckles against the wall to his left as he ran. He felt a ledge and climbed up. His knuckles hit wood and he knew that he was in another man-made tunnel. He staggered to his feet, then heard splashing and the agonized hiss of Serpens Rex not far behind. With shaking hands he fumbled at the shotgun, popped it open, then withdrew two spent shells. He placed two of his shells inside, then clutched the other in his left hand. He took in deep panic breaths as the reptilian horror slogged through the water behind him.
He knew that he would have to get close if his shots were going to count, but the idea of approaching either one of the horrors was unthinkable. For one moment he thought of turning the gun, of escaping the nightmare as quickly as possible –
At that moment the purple light flared far ahead of him. He saw the bulbous white face, the empty black eyes, the long and twisted limbs. It was the demon he’d met so long ago, the demon who stood at the doorway of his nightmare since the nightmare had first begun. Without thinking he aimed and fired. The gun bucked wildly in his hands and the demon staggered backwards and bumped into a wall.
He’s too far away! Wodi thought. That wasn’t a fatal shot!
Five little jets of glowing stomach juices delicately oozed from pinpricks made by the buckshot. The white demon stared at its own glowing stomach, fascinated by the sight, then passed a hand under the gentle stream. Wodi turned, fearful that the reptilian monster would be behind him – and it was. The giant behemoth of glittering black scales lurched awkwardly, mouth hanging open in a silent hiss. Wodi stumbled backwards and, blind with terror, dropped his shotgun shell and held the gun limply in front of him as if to ward off the monster. The thing reached out and grasped the end of the shotgun. Wodi’s legs buckled as he held on – then pulled the trigger. In a deafening roar the monster’s hand disappeared in a pink cloud and it gave vent to a skull-splitting shriek of agony. Wodi sat on the ground and backed away, flinging his arm out to the side to find his last shotgun shell.
Wodi had no idea if Eragileak, the purple-glowing demon, was directly behind him or not. He only felt about in a panic, unable to find the shell, and watched as Serpens Rex sat down heavily on his ass. The monster held its shattered wrist before it, watching as two lines of blood gushed out and gathered on the stone floor.
Why isn’t it attacking? Wodi thought. Why doesn’t it kill me?
Finally Wodi found the last shell and popped open the shotgun. The reptilian horror turned its glazed eyes onto him, then worked its mouth strangely. Wodi loaded the gun with the last shell, heart pounding, sure at any moment that Eragileak would be on top of him.
It’s the cold! he thought suddenly. That reptile can’t handle the cold… and it’s been sitting in here for no telling how long, waiting to ambush us!
Finally the reptile opened its mouth wide and its tongue jerked back strangely. “Wodi,” it said. “Wodi, it’s me! Help me… don’t kill me…”
Wodi loaded the shotgun, then shouted, “What!”
“It’s me… Saul,” said the monster. “Don’t… kill… me…”
Wodi felt something like an icicle slicing through his awareness. “You monsters,” he said. “You… you somehow took Saul into yourselves! You monsters!”
Wodi’s fear was replaced with burning rage. He leaped to his feet, fell upon the reptilian monster, jammed the shotgun into its mouth, then blasted the back of its head off. In a gushing wet thunderclap the monster was slain.
Sucking in ragged breaths, Wodi turned back to Eragileak. He was shocked. The flesh demon had not been waiting to strike – instead, its stomach had been eaten away by the acidic juices flowing out of it. The monster held one arm in the air, the hand replaced by a smoking stump, while the other hand pushed at the guts in an effort to hold them in. Steam rose as its other hand was slowly eaten through. The ground hissed where juices dripped down beneath its feet. Wodi stood and watched, then slowly approached.
Suddenly the monster’s other hand fell apart and the guts spilled out in a rushing torrent. Hot coils splattered onto the ground and steaming juices rolled down the demon’s legs. Eragileak gave vent to a pathetic, bird-like squawk. It turned its eyes onto Wodi.
“One day,” said Wodi, “we’re going to do this to all of you.”
Eragileak hissed and tried to approach, but its legs buckled and it fell to the floor, splashing into its burning stomach juices. It waved its stubs and glared at Wodi with dying, vengeful eyes. Wodi watched the monster smoke and writhe until it finally laid still. Wodi turned away from the slain demon, then stepped over the body of the dead serpent without fear.
He returned to the cold stream and picked his way back, fumbling in the dark. One torch remained on the bridge and lit his path. He quickened his pace when he
saw a body propped up in the stream. It was too late – Peter was dead, his body already cold, head hanging loosely from a shattered neck. Filled with dread, Wodi found a series of handholds and climbed back up to the bridge.
There, he found Marlon.
Wodi knelt over him. He still breathed, but he was badly beaten. Both eyes were sealed shut.
“Marlon,” he said. “It’s just us now. We’re the only two left.”
He waited, then pushed on his friend. The oppressive silence was a roar in his ears.
“Get up, Marlon,” he said, and his voice cracked. “Get up, Marlon, please! We have to go. Let’s get out of here. Marlon. Let’s get out of here.”
He shook Marlon.
“God dammit Marlon, please get up! Let’s get out of here!”
He pushed against him violently. His face burned. Still Marlon did not move.
“Marlon, we still have so far to go!” Wodi screamed. “I NEED YOU TO SURVIVE!”
Marlon stirred, exhaled, then spit red across his cheek. “I’m up, kid,” he said, his words slurred. “Now shut up before you get us killed.”
Wodi laughed hysterically, lifted Marlon’s arm and pulled him to his shoulder. Marlon leaned on him heavily and nearly brought them both down. Wodi handed the empty shotgun to Marlon and waited a few awkward moments before he took it and leaned on it. Wodi picked up the last torch. The two rose and crossed the bridge. They crossed the remainder of the cavern, read a sign that promised a northern exit, then passed into another man-made tunnel.
Minutes dragged into hours in the darkness. Marlon leaned on him and Wodi was dwarfed by the broken, bleeding giant. Time did not move but ticked back and forth, each slow step a new eternity, each step forward more difficult than the last, each step after the next proving to be the most difficult thing that both had ever accomplished. They did not rest. Wodi knew that his friend did not need a few moments of rest; he needed weeks in a modern hospital and care from trained professionals. He pushed the thought from his mind.
The torch withered to a glowing ember, then died. Wodi cast it aside and they continued on in darkness.
Marlon entered a black dream-state and conversed with a host of distracting thoughts, images, people. He spoke to them and through his slurred soliloquy Wodi gathered that Marlon was painfully aware of his own shortcomings. He had turned his interests to the Guardians in order to prove his worth. Wodi tried to offer consolation but his friend could not hear him, and was lost in a world of desperate negotiations with internal forces. Wodi carried on in silence.
Marlon’s weight bore down on him. Wodi was beyond exhaustion and his thoughts began to sink down into a black well of hopelessness. If he could just lie down and sleep, sleep forever in the dark, cold earth… Immediately his mind went back to his childhood home. He saw his mother cooking dinner and he sat at the table, brooding and complaining about the hours his father had him working in their grocery store. How insurmountable his problems seemed! The fate of the universe depended on him having an extra day off work. He remembered that his mother kindly listened, then said, “Well, you know, Wodi, it’s a new store. There’s a lot that needs to be done. I don’t like doing it either, but, well… you just have to hang in there, son! Your father needs you now. I know he’s unreasonable at times, and it seems like you just can’t go on, but if there’s anyone who knows how to dig in their heels and get something done, it’s you. You’re as hard-headed as he is, Wodi. I just know you can get through this!”
I just know you can get through this. Wodi laughed once in the dark, freezing tunnel. Now, after what he’d been through, after what he’d done, he knew that he would pay any price to be back in that shitty grocery store on the other side of the world. Even if it meant taking one more step… then one more step… then another…
The tunnel ascended. Hope grinded against their feet as they fought their way upwards. Eventually Marlon dropped the empty shotgun and bore his weight onto little Wodi. Wodi breathed in great, ragged sobs.
Wodi banged into a wall. If he dropped Marlon, he would not be able to pick him up again. There was nothing left in him, so he simply rested his forehead against the wall and breathed. Eventually he turned his head and saw that a starscape greeted them in the distance.
“Marlon,” he said. “We’ve made it! One last push, that’s all…” With great difficulty he turned Marlon about. “One last push…”
Marlon stirred and, with an unexpected surge of strength, pulled Wodi off his feet. “S’okay, kid,” he muttered. “I get you… out of here…”
“Marlon, you dummy, I’m the one carrying you!”
“Just follow… me…” said Marlon, then he stumbled and fell against the side of the tunnel.
The sight of the stars filled Wodi. “Get back up, Marlon,” he said quietly. “Tonight, we sleep under the stars.”
The two stumbled, crawled, and dragged one another through the last steps. They cleared the entrance. They stood on a sloping precipice under a thousand-mile canopy of shining stars. The pitted cradle of the moon shone overhead, impossibly bright, and the blue wasteland of earth stretched before them.
The two stumbled again and fell against a wide, squat rock. Wodi pried himself away, and Marlon rested against the rock.
“We did it,” said Wodi. “We made it out of the valley.”
Marlon exhaled slowly, then closed his eyes.
Wodi laid his head on the ground and rested.
He heard voices.
He lifted his head, saw two shapes moving below. “Marlon,” he said, smiling, “there’s people here! Good... human... people!”
He rose and heard Marlon grunt behind him. Wodi ran down the hill, swaying from side to side.
There were two men below, one tall and wide, another short, among a scattering of wide boulders. Wodi thought he heard one say, “If we don’t find anything, we’re gonna get it bad.”
“Hey!” cried Wodi. “Hey! We need help! We fought demons, and... and my friend... he’s...” He tripped and fell against a squat boulder. The two figures jumped, turned to him, and stepped back.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Wodi.
Wodi crawled nearer the two. He saw their motley armor and leather, the wild blond beard of the tall figure, the rifle he carried. They said nothing.
Wodi stood and, as he approached, he saw that their faces and arms were covered in black tattoos and scar tissue. Their noses were bent, their ears in shreds. They smiled strangely. Wodi stopped.
“Wait, Wodi!” Marlon shouted behind. “Wodi, get back!”
Something heavy slammed into Wodi’s back, then something crashed into the side of his head. Pain and stars. Spinning, falling. He shifted into black.
Chapter Thirteen
In the Beginning…
My first impression of Didi was that he was autistic. That would certainly explain his ability to absorb all the data that every scientist must know, and at such a young age. I also had the distinct impression that he may have been answering my questions, but he was never really talking with me. It was as if he was not really there. Then his insistence that he be allowed to take and send messages to his colleagues while still answering my questions made me think that he was some kind of multi-tasking savant, a polymath of the “here and now”. Any company would have paid, and paid well, to have him manage their affairs! When I asked him why he chose science as his career path, he upset my image of him once again by speaking of the “invisible world” behind the “veil”, of gods and demigods that man can only see by evidence of the “shadows” they cast in our world. This prompted me to ask him about his religion. He answered that he was an atheist.
- Barry Klapperman, Hey There, Haven!: Interviews from Top to Bottom and In-between
* * *
Thirty-Eight Years Ago
It was a cool summer night and Didi leaned over the side of the stone bridge overlooking an avenue filled with revelers. Blue lights shone from the bars down below, and Didi watched the lights
dancing along gossamer dresses and sequined jackets.
“Are you ready to get twisted?” said Korliss Matri, opening a bottle as he approached.
“A terrible thing to say to someone suffering from scoliosis,” said Didi. “Not to mention severe allergies to alcohol.”
The two laughed and shook hands. Korliss studied the crowd below, then took a long drink. Didi could see the University graduate ring that his friend had recently earned. It looked impressive as the light glittered along its many facets, but Didi knew the ring was made of polished salt-stone; within a month, the body’s moisture would dissolve the ring, a reminder that one’s education was never complete.
“Congratulations, my friend,” said Didi.
“Head of my class!” said Korliss, wiping his mouth. “The dean’s already offered me a position to teach philosophy, literature… and mythology. I’ll relight the fire, Didi. I’m finally going to do it. For years now Haven’s system of education has been about making students overcome unrealistic hurdles of memorization and cramming for lengthy exams so we can differentiate the iron from the slag metal. It’s not education, it’s a stress test. Those who survive are rubber-stamped and handed a diploma that allows them to mingle with the elite workaholics who uphold our fantasy world. But I passed their test.”
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