by Mick Farren
Despite the wine, which had lost none of its unnatural chill or sparkle, his voice was little more than a croak. "I don't understand.,. the bird… I swear I saw…"
Thief Lanier smiled wickedly. "And was it good for you, too, darling?"
Gibson shook his head and fell back on the bed. He knew that questions were pointless.
She finally took pity on him. "Don't try to work it out, Joe Gibson. You, if anyone, should know, by now, not to be dictated to by your senses. Just tell me I was better than Nephredana."
The White Room
THEY CAUGHT HIM at the corner of Nineteenth and Third. He had been heading for the East Village, hoping to find natural cover among the other crazies. An unmarked white truck pulled up beside him and three nurses jumped out.
"Decide to take a little walk, did we, Joe? We can't have that. You could get hurt out here."
When they grabbed him, he put up only a token resistance. He knew all three of them. They were burly ones from the nursing staff, well trained in the art of subduing patients. They threw him bodily into the truck, climbed in after him, and slammed the doors behind them; then they had the straitjacket on him and started beating the crap out of him. One of them had a leather-covered blackjack that hurt like hell.
Chapter Fourteen
"OKAY, GIBSON, IT'S time for you to stop your drinking and whoring, we've come to prepare you for the Portal."
Nephredana and the two women who were with her had come up the spiral stairs to the circular chamber on the third level without either Gibson or apparently Thief Lanier hearing them. Gibson had been drowsing, basking in the warm weariness and the soft, rose glow of the walls. Gibson sat up with a start, and the falcon let out a high-pitched angry squawk. Thief Lanier, on the other hand, hardly reacted at all. She had been lying spread and naked, looking at herself in the overhead minor, with the tiny ornamental lizard curied above her left breast. At the sound of Nephredana's voice, she languidly rolled over onto her stomach while the lizard scuttled for cover in a fold of the red satin bedcover.
"Have you come to take him from me?"
Nephredana looked round the room, taking in the whole aftermath of the debauch. The spark of rivalry between the two women was plain. "You've had him long enough, haven't you?"
Thief Lanier propped herself up on one elbow. "I suppose I have. Where are you going to make Preparation?"
"Right here, if you have no objection."
Thief Lanier shook her head. "No objection at all. Do I need to assist you?"
Nephredana smiled. "I think you've done your part. You're welcome to watch, though."
"Then I think I'll put some clothes on."
Thief Lanier started gathering up her jewelry and what was left of the flame negligee, and Gibson also made moves preparatory to getting up, but Nephredana waved him back again. "Don't move, Gibson, you're just as we want you."
"Shouldn't I put some clothes on, too?"
Nephredana shook her head. "You're exactly as we want you."
Gibson rubbed the drowse out of his eyes and took his first good look at Nephredana and her two companions. They were like a trio of Valkyries come to carry him to Valhalla. Nephredana herself was wearing fulll plate body armor that was burnished to a deep, rich shine. From the way she moved, the armor was either extremely light or she was much stronger than he had ever imagined. Gibson recognized the woman on her left as the one who'd been drunkenly kissing him in the Rearing Eagle before Thief Lanier had picked him up, only now the Day-Glo green paint had been replaced by a somber cowl and long robe. The third woman was equally serious in her attire, if a little more up-to-date, clad as she was in a very tight black leadier motorcycle suit with all of the obligatory zippers and chains and a red dragon on the back of the jacket. In another time and place they would have made a great set of backup singers. The thought jumped into Gibson's mind uninvited, but he quickly pushed it aside as unworthy of such a weighty occasion.
Nephredana positioned herself at the foot of the bed. "Are you ready, Joe?"
"I guess as ready as I'll ever be. What is this preparation? Some kind of ritual? "
Nephredana's voice was surprisingly gentle. "Don't ask any questions, Joe. Just do exactly as you're told. First, I want you to lay flat on your back with your arms extended and your legs together."
Gibson did as he was told even though he was a little surprised that the Preparation for the Portal was turning out to be so physically elaborate. He'd expected a few incantations to be muttered over him and that would be that.
Gibson stared up at his own reflection. "I look like I'm ready to be crucified."
The woman from the Rearing Eagle spoke reprovingly. "Please don't speak, Joe."
Nephredana seemed to be in command of the ceremony. "First the bowl, the oil, and the coins."
A gold bowl, about eight inches in diameter, was placed on Gibson's chest and then filled with a pungently scented oil.
"Remain very still, Joe. Don't try and move or we'll have to tie you down."
A gold coin about the size of a silver dollar was placed on the palm of each of Gibson's hands. He saw in the mirror above him that Thief Lanier, now dressed in her jeans and shirt, was watching from the transparent stairs,
Nephredana spoke again, "Now the book."
The woman in the biker leathers handed her a thick, leather-bound volume in which a number of places in the text had been marked by black ribbons. She opened it to the first passage and started reading from it in a low voice.
"Isa ya! Isa ya! Ri ega! Ri ega!
Bi esha bi esha! Xtyilqua! Xiyilqua!
Limuttikunu kima qutri litilli shatmi ye
Ina zumri ya isa ya
Ina zumri ya ri ega
Ina zumri ya bi esha
Ina zumri ya xiyilqua."
As she read aloud, the rose glow of the walls seemed.to dim and deepen like a sinister sunset, and Gibson could feel sweat forming on his body. The temptation to move was very strong, to jump up and ruin the whole Preparation, anything to buy him a respite or a bit more time. Unfortunately, if he did make a run for it, it would probably only buy enough time for an angry mob of idimmu to either stuff him bodily into the Portal or hang him from the nearest approximation of a tree.
Nephredana spoke in English again. "Now the wafer."
The woman from the Rearing Eagle held up a round, flat, white wafer about the size of a half-dollar. " Extend your tongue, Joe."
Gibson stuck out his tongue, and the woman placed the wafer on it. All feeling immediately left his mouth, and a rapid numbness spread through his whole body. What were they trying to do, turn him into a zombie? Maybe it would be the best thing. At least he'd feel no pain. Nephredana turned to the next marked passage in the leather-bound book. For this reading, her voice was louder and more forceful.
"Zi dingir anna kanpa!
Zi dingir kia kanpa!
Zi dingir uruki kanpa!
Zi dingir nebo kanpa!
Zi dingir nergal kanpu!
Zi dingir ninib kanpu!
Zi dingir annwina dingir galgallaenege kanpu!
Kakammu!"
Gibson's body was now completely without feeling, and as he stared transfixed at his reflection, his own eyes seemed to be boring back into his brain. Nephredana's voice came from a long way away.
"The flame."
The woman in leather snapped her gloved fingers and blue fire appeared at their tips. She held her burning hand above her head and then plunged it into the bowl on Gibson's chest. A column of blue flame leaped almost to the mirror on the ceiling. Gibson felt nothing. Either it was the effect of whatever drug had been in the wafer or the blue flames were a cold fire. Nephredana started reading again.
"Ia! Ia! Zi azag!
Ia! Ia! Zi azkak!
Ia! Ia! Kutulu zi kur!
Ia!"
With the last word the flames went out as though a switch had been thrown or a tap turned off, no dying down or gradual dwindling, just poof, out. All t
hat remained was a thin haze of smoke, hanging in the air.
"The blood."
Gibson didn't like the sound of this and he said so. "Whose blood are we talking about?"
Nephredana held up a hand, "Do not speak, Joe, or you will have to be gagged. We are going to take a very small amount of your blood. It won't hurt you." She turned to the woman in leather. "The dagger?"
Thief Lanier came down the stairs. "Use the razor. It will be better."
She was holding out the Charleston Bluesteel, but Nephredana hesitated before taking it. "You performed the illusion of the hawk?"
Thief Lanier nodded. "I did."
"And it was good?"
"It was good."
Nephredana nodded. "Then you're right, we will use the razor."
She took the Charleston Bluesteel from Thief Lanier and passed it to the woman in leather, then she removed the coin from the palm of Gibson's left hand. The woman in leather opened the blade out with a flick that showed she was well accustomed to straightedge razors and at the same time picked up Gibson's left wrist. "Barra ante malda! Barra ange ge yene!"
The woman in leather recited this part from memory. Nephredana opened the book again. "Namtar galra zibi mu unna te!"
The woman in leather sliced a nick out of the tip of Gibson's little finger and a red bead of blood appeared. She moved Gibson's arm so his hand was over the bowl on his chest. Drops of blood fell into the bowl, mingling with the oil.
"GAGGAMANNU!"
The single word from Nephredana caused a ball of flame, this time green, to explode from the bowl and hang in the air above Gibson until it dissipated after a few seconds.
"And now the anointing."
The woman in leather closed the razor and handed it back to Thief Lanier; then she leaned over Gibson and lifted the bowl from his chest. When she stepped back, he could see in the mirrored ceiling that the bottom of the bowl had left a mark like a brand where it had rested on his chest) a broken pentacle contained in a circle.
Gibson couldn't hold back a cry of protest. "You've marked me, damn it."
Nephredana's eyes flashed. "I won't tell you again to be quiet."
Gibson bit off his complaints. He didn't particularly want to be gagged and helpless. The ceremony continued. Nephredana and the woman in leather stood one on either side of the woman from the Rearing Eagle in the robe and cowl. The woman in leather held the bowl while Nephredana removed the gauntlets of her suit of armor. She placed them on the bed beside the book and then turned to face the woman in the robe and cowl.
"Are you ready?"
The woman nodded. "I'm ready."
Nephredana pushed back the cowl and slipped the robe from her shoulders. It dropped to the floor behind her, revealing that the woman from the Rearing Eagle was naked beneath them apart from a web of silver chains around her hips. Even preoccupied as he was, Gibson couldn't help being reminded that she had a magnificent body.
Nephredana put the ritual question a second time. "I ask you again, are you ready?"
The woman nodded a second time. "I'm ready." Nephredana dipped her hands into the bowl and began to smear the mixture of oil and blood all over the front of the woman's body. As Nephredana's hands moved over her breasts, the woman let out a long shuddering groan. "Ssarati sha!"
Nephredana replied in a soft voice. "Sha limnuti!" When the woman's torso and thighs were covered in the mixture of oil and blood, Nephredana stepped back, wiped her hands on a white towel handed to her by the woman in leather; then she picked up the book again and opened it.
"Epu-ush salam kashshapi-ia u kashapti-ia
Sha epishia u mutshtepishti-ia."
The woman from the Rearing Eagle climbed onto the bed and approached Gibson on all fours.
"Qu-u imtana-allu-u pi-ia!
Upu unti pi-ia iprusu!"
Now she was on top of him, squirming against his body, rubbing the oily mess from her skin onto his. If he hadn't been so numbed out, it probably would have been a memorable erotic experience, too, but drugged as he was since the administration of the wafer, it was about as exciting as a rubdown with a halibut. His loss, however, seemed to be the woman's gain. As she moved against him, her breath came in short ecstatic gasps. "… o Kakos Theos… o Kakos Dasimon… uh… o Daimon…"
And all the while, Nephredana's voice provided a steady counterpoint.
"Sha ipushu u mushtepishti-ia!
Kal amatusha malla-a sseri!
Alsi bararitum qablitim u namaritum!"
The woman from the Rearing Eagle let out a last climactic groan, and Nephredana's voice rose, in seeming sympathy, to a final shout. "TUSTE YESH SHIR ILLANI U MA YALKI!"
Somewhere outside the glass tower, something crashed like thunder, and the light from the walls strobed and flickered, agitating from red to purple and back to red again. The woman from the Rearing Eagle rolled off Gibson and away from him, lying sprawled on the bed, facedown and seemingly unconscious, while both Nephredana and the woman in leather sank to their knees as though exhausted by their efforts. Only Thief Lanier remained standing, and even she had the look of someone on the verge of going into shock. For a long time, none of them moved or spoke, and then, little by little, the disturbance in the light diminished and things returned more or less to normal, at least as normal as anything could be in the Hole in the Void.
Slowly, Nephredana got to her feet. There was a great weariness in her face and voice. "Rise, Joe Gibson, we have done all that can be done for you."
Gibson's whole body felt as though it belonged to someone else. "I'm not sure I can move."
"Try. You can move."
He turned his head and saw the gold coin that remained on the palm of his right hand. He closed his fingers around it and held it up. "What do I do with this?"
"Keep it. It may prove to be a talisman."
"And I need all the help that I can get?"
"You said that."
Gibson attempted to sit up and found that it was possible even though his muscles protested and, at the same time, his mind and body felt strangely detached one from the other. "What did you people do to me back there?"
"It was a basic purification and an infusion of energy, plus a number of protections against any third-entity intrusion."
"I don't feel like I've been infused, more like the energy has been drained out of me."
"You'll feel like that for a while, but then you'll start to grow stronger."
"How can you know any of it will work? I mean, you can't have done this before, right?"
"It is all in the footnotes to the Prophecy."
"And what happens now?"
"We dress you and then take you to the Portal." Nephredana turned and gestured to the woman in leather. "Bring the clothes."
Gibson swung his legs over the side of the bed and then paused before attempting to stand. "So this is it?"
Nephredana nodded. "This is it."
They dressed him in white: white suit, white shirt, white patent shoes. He guessed that it was symbolic of his new purification, although the suit leaned a little too much toward Saturday Night Fever for his taste, with overwide lapels and slightly flared pants, but he figured that he couldn't be too picky in a place like the Hole in the Void. He was probably lucky that they hadn't given him a toga.
When they came out of the pink glass tower a small, silent crowd was waiting for them. Yancey Slide was there, as were Long Tom Enni-Ya, the aggressive munchkin, the demon from Xodd, and a dozen or more other faces from the Rearing Eagle. Even Rayx stood in back of the gathering with a bandaged shoulder and a sour expression. It had to be a moment of truth for the idimmu as well as for Gibson. They were pinning a lot of hope on the Prophecy of Anu Enlil and his being the one, and very soon they would see if that hope was going to pay off.
A strange little procession started out of the valley of the Hole in the Void, away from the cluster of buildings and along a fold between two of the orange hills. Nephredana led the way, immediately follow
ed by Gibson, while the other three women who had taken part in the preparation walked behind him, side by side. Gibson had half expected that Yancey Slide would assume some sort of major role in all mis, but it seemed that the women were in complete charge of his being offered to the Portal.
Overhead, the sky was going insane, as if responding to the events that were taking place on the ground, and the air was alive with wild bursts of random energy. Jagged swaths of black raced from horizon to horizon like angry electronic clouds against a juddering background of purple and magenta pixels that careened and danced in spectacular swirls and eddies as if in the grip of some huge and complexly shifting magnetic field, and although there were regular explosions of dazzling brightness, for the most part the Hole in the Void was cloaked in a dim semi-twilight, which, at least as far as Gibson was concerned, was a more than fitting background for a man going to a fate at which he could only guess.
The route of the procession took them past the gates of the antebellum mansion that was almost completely hidden in its grove of oaks. Three pale, black-clothed, vampiric figures stood just inside those gates, apparently waiting for the procession to come by.
As Nephredana drew level with them, one of them called out to her in a high hissing voice. "Are you taking him to the Portal?"
"We are."
"Is he the one? "
"We hope so,"
As they crested the hill behind the mansion and Gibson took one final backward look at the buildings that constituted such civilization as could be found in the Hole in the Void, he had the feeling that he was walking back in time, away from the technology and the intrigues of the world in which he'd been born and raised and back across a hundred centuries or more into a pagan past, where men had mattered little and power had been in the truly demonic hands of the idimmu and their unimaginable master. Maybe it had been the ritual, or maybe it had been the drugs, but he knew that he had reached a place beyond fear where all will was gone and everything was inevitable.
