Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Book 1: Hell-bent (Shooting Eros Series)

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Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Book 1: Hell-bent (Shooting Eros Series) Page 23

by Benjamin Laskin


  They turned a corner and halfway down the hall came to a door marked: Experimental Weapons and Research. Sett peered into the eye recognition security monitor. A computer-modulated voice said, “Welcome, Commander Sett. You may enter now.” The door unlocked and slid open.

  Sett and Minos entered a spacious laboratory the size of a gymnasium. At one end of the room, Bunsen burners, microscopes, and different beakers and laboratory glassware sat atop lab tables. Scattered about elsewhere could be seen operant conditioning chambers, spectrophotometers, calorimeters, and other specialty equipment. At the other end of the lab, they saw operating tables and cages containing various species of yetzers.

  “How did these demons get up here without frying in the process?” Minos asked.

  “That was Professor Hermes’ genius. He figured out that they could survive if they were brought up gradually, much like how a scuba diver has to return to the surface slowly and in stages to avoid the bends. We inoculate the demons with an elixir made up of blood thinning agents, endorphins, and tranquilizers, and set the disgronifiers to pause at various stages of disgronification. Once they arrive, we keep them doused in that yellow light you see shining down over them. It is the same wavelength and frequency as Earth’s. It took years to perfect the process and we dealt with some very nasty messes along the way, but now it’s relatively mundane.”

  “And if one of these creatures were to ever escape the lab?” the judge asked.

  “Nearly impossible,” Sett said. “But even if one should somehow manage to breakout from the confines of this building, it would turn to a cinder within seconds of stepping into our celestial light.”

  “I see,” Minos said, casually distancing himself further from the caged beasts.

  “Professor Hermes,” Sett called out.

  The professor was standing with his back to them in front of a ten meter-long white board covered with chemical and mathematical equations. He raised an impatient arm signaling ‘do not disturb’ as he scribbled onto the board.

  Sett and Minos walked over to him.

  “Professor Hermes,” said the judge.

  “Hold your horses. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  Sett said, “Professor, Judge Minos would like to have a word with you.”

  “Huh?” the professor said, his back still to them. “Tell that old—”

  Sett cleared his throat. “He’s right behind you, dumbass.”

  Hermes’ writing hand froze in mid-scribble. “—Tell that old wise man I always have time for him.” He turned, smiled, and bowed deferentially. “Hello, Your Honor. Thank you for gracing my lab with your holy presence. What can I do for you?”

  Sett said, “I want to show the judge the progress you’ve made on that Spleen Demon spit. You do have something to show us, don’t you?”

  “I’ve been working day and night on it, Commander. Follow me.”

  Hermes hitched his droopy trousers and led them to some steel cabinets and vaults along another wall. He punched in a code to one of the vaults and the door clicked open. He reached in and retrieved a lead container the size of an old-fashioned cigarette case. The professor set it on a nearby table and opened it. Inside were two rows of darts. Next, he opened a drawer in the table and withdrew a dart gun, which looked like a small, handheld Gatling gun. He loaded it with the special darts.

  “Now follow me over there,” Hermes said, heading towards the caged fear demons.

  “Must we?” Minos said.

  “Don’t worry,” Hermes said. “We are perfectly safe. But keep your distance from that baby Spleen Demon over there. Its tongue is deceptively long, even minus the half I cut off to prepare these darts.”

  The men gave a wide berth to the Spleen Demon and headed over towards a caged Nothing-but Yetzer: a fat, translucent, gelatinous, amoeba-like creature. It was the color of skim milk and had no visible eyes or mouth.

  The Nothing-but Yetzer was a particularly pernicious species of yetzer, one that sucks away human emuna. Once invaded by a Nothing-but Yetzer, a human falls into the trap of nihilism and reductionism. Humans begin to perceive themselves as purposeless byproducts of chance and undirected chaos. They believe themselves to be ‘nothing but’ animals, ‘nothing but’ material, ‘nothing but’ unfortunate, soulless accidents of an aimless, blind, and robotic universe.

  The Nothing-but Yetzer doesn’t pose much of a physical threat to cupids because it is very slow and has no reach, though it can still be deadly should its sticky, globular body touch one. When able to, the yetzer will roll over a wounded or unconscious cupid who can’t fight back. It suffocates the cupid, and then ingests him whole. Plus, they stink something fierce, and that can stun an unprepared cupid long enough for it to get a hold of him.

  Hermes handed Sett and Minos each a surgeon’s mask that had been dipped in lavender extract. “Put this on,” he said, strapping on his own. “These buggers smell like crap and will knock you on your ass.”

  As they got within ten feet of the yetzer, it began to make nauseating gurgling noises, another one of its weapons.

  “What’s that ungodly sound?” Judge Minos said, turning white.

  “Gross, isn’t it?” Hermes said. “Here…” He reached into his lab coat and handed Minos a pair of special earplugs. “These will help. Commander Sett and I are used to it.”

  Minos put in the plugs and the color began to return to his face.

  Hermes held up the dart gun. “Commander Sett had the preposterous idea of extracting the acid from a Spleen Demon’s glands and synthesizing the stuff so that it could be used as a weapon against the yetzers. He suggested turning it into some sort of aerosol or spray. I thought it a crazy and dangerous notion, I must admit. But, my team and I believe we have finally succeeded at producing something along the lines of the commander’s idea. First we had to—”

  “Spare me your genius, Professor,” Minos said. “Just show me what you’ve got.”

  “Of course,” Hermes said, disappointed. “Commander, would you like the honor?”

  Sett took the gun and pointed it at the Nothing-but Yetzer. “Is one dart enough?”

  “For this sized one, yes.”

  “So why did you load so many?”

  “Better safe than sorry,” the professor said with a shrug.

  “Right.” Sett pulled the trigger and sent the dart stabbing into the yetzer.

  “Nothing,” Minos said, peeved.

  “Wait,” the professor said. “It takes a few seconds for the acid to be released.”

  “Our cupids don’t have—” Minos leaped backwards, dropping his cane. “Holy shit!”

  Professor Hermes nodded with a pleased, victorious look on his face. The yetzer had begun to smoke, throb, twist, and gurgle in ghastly spasms of pain. Its whitish translucence turned charcoal gray, and then black like a glob of tar.

  “I almost feel sorry for the monstrosity,” Sett said, his expression a mixture of disgust and horror.

  After a few more seconds, the one hundred kilo blob had been reduced to a smoking puddle of black goo.

  “Well?” Hermes said.

  Minos cleared his throat. “Impressive.”

  “Thank you,” the professor said.

  “Does it work on all the yetzers?” Minos asked.

  “On all those that we have experimented on so far, yes.”

  “Excellent, Professor,” Sett said, patting Hermes on the back. “I knew you could do it. How long before you can mass produce these darts?”

  “Well, we’re going to need more Spleen Demons to do that,” the professor replied.

  “There are plenty where he came from,” Sett said. “I’ll send some hunting teams down to round up as many as you need. What else?”

  “These guns are only good at close range,” Hermes said. “We need a better delivery system. I talked to Ballistics, but they told me to get lost; that they were too busy as is.”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Sett assured. “They are always whining
about something over there. I’ll have a talk with them. You work up the specifications, and I’ll see to it they make it top priority.”

  Professor Hermes smiled in deep satisfaction. He had never received so much approbation or support before. He could barely retain his glee at the thought of strolling among those snobs in Ballistics and ordering them around for a change.

  “Good job, Professor,” Judge Minos said. “Carry on. Commander, let’s go. I have things to do.”

  They turned to leave. “One moment,” Sett said, struck with an afterthought. He turned back to Hermes. “Professor, did you run tests on those ice arrows I brought you?”

  “I did,” the professor answered. “I just haven’t had time to write up a report. Been kinda busy, you know?” He indicated with a glance the glob of yetzer remains.

  “So, do they do what they’re said to do?”

  “Oh, yes,” Hermes said. “I’d very much like to meet the inventor. He’s taken potion-making to the next level. I could use a fellow like that in my lab.”

  “Thank you, Professor. That’s all I need to know.” Sett palmed his beard in contemplation and then turned and escorted the judge out of the lab and back into the hallway.

  “What was that about?” Minos asked.

  “Just another potion we’re working on.”

  “If we have a rising star around here, Commander, then I want to meet him.”

  Sett’s communicator signaled.

  “Excuse me, Sir.” He tapped the mini transceiver behind his ear. “Send… Copy that. Ten minutes. Over.”

  Sett tapped the device again and turned to Judge Minos. “I believe you already have, Sir.”

  “Have what?”

  “Met him.”

  “I think I’d remember such a fellow.”

  “Well, I’m on my way over to meet him right now.”

  “Then I’m coming with you,” the judge said.

  “I don’t think that’s wise, Sir.”

  “You’re telling me what is wise? If the professor here says we could use talent like this fellow, then I’m going to see to it we have it.”

  “All right,” Sett said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  37

  Fool’s Game

  “Are you okay, Sir?” Sett asked. He helped Minos to his feet and brushed sand from the judge’s robe.

  “No, I’m not okay,” Minos groused. “My lunch is floating somewhere in hyperspace.”

  “Yes, well, it has been a while since you’ve been in a disgronifier.”

  “This had better be good, Commander, because if it isn’t, I’m going to—”

  He yelped, leaped backwards and tripped, but Sett caught and steadied him.

  “What the hell is that?” Minos said. “Get out of here, you!” He swung his cane at a monkey that had scampered over to them and crouched on a nearby log. “Where the hell are we, Commander?”

  “Earth, Sir.”

  “I know that, you dolt. But where on Earth? And why here?”

  “It’s an uninhabited island, Sir. Very secure. I thought you’d find it a little more appealing than Antarctica or the North Pole.”

  “I should never have allowed you to talk me into this meeting in the first place,” Minos snarled.

  “But Sir, I—”

  “Where is this fellow, and why is he late? Doesn’t he know who I am?”

  Sett peered through a pair of binoculars, scanning the calm ocean waters that glistened under the early afternoon sun. “I see him now,” he said. The faint sound of a distant outboard motor came within earshot.

  “Why didn’t he come the way we did?” Minos asked.

  “On Earth you can’t travel place to place by disgronifier, only between worlds. To move from point A to point B down here, we must first return to base.”

  “Then I suggest that you tell our people in disgronifications to get to work on the problem. We shouldn’t be wasting precious time like that.”

  “I agree, Sir. But it’s a difficult issue to overcome. The physics is quite involved.”

  “I don’t care,” Minos snapped. “Do it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Why didn’t he just come with us?”

  “He isn’t stationed in Heaven, Sir.”

  “Huh? Well why meet here and not in one of our Earth stations?”

  “The other party insisted on it, Sir. He doesn’t trust us.”

  “Doesn’t trust us? The gall! Who is he to dictate terms to the emissaries of Eros?”

  “Would you like to leave, Sir? I can have us folded up and gone before he lands.”

  “No, no. I want to meet this arrogant little genius. I’ll know within sixty seconds if he’s worth our time.”

  Sett smiled knowingly as he watched the small boat putt-putt into the lagoon and then glide onto shore. He and Judge Minos walked over to greet the lone man. When they came within clear sight of the visitor, Minos froze in his steps, stabbing his cane into the sand.

  “You,” Minos said, the syllable dripping with disgust and resentment.

  Hamanaeus, Esquire, smiled broadly and stepped to shore. Sett hadn’t seen the man since they met in his office, but he was dressed in the same dapper suit and equally well coiffed and regal looking.

  “Sett,” the judge demanded, “what is the meaning of this?”

  “Hello, Judge,” Hamanaeus called out jubilantly. “What a happy surprise.”

  “Sett?” Minos seethed.

  “You said you wanted to meet the brains behind that potion.”

  “Do you realize who this man is? He’s the biggest traitor we have ever had! He’s supposed to be dead!”

  “Nice to see you too, Judge,” Hamanaeus said with a smile as he limped over to them with the help of his cane.

  “The man hasn’t aged a day.”

  “You sure have,” Hamanaeus rejoined.

  “Commander, shoot him, right now. That’s an order!”

  “An unarmed man?” Hamanaeus said, opening his coat and raising his arms.

  Judge Minos shook his cane at Hamanaeus. “You,” he sneered, “had no problem slaughtering thousands of cupids!”

  “I have never laid a finger on a cupid, old friend.”

  “You were one of the main instigators!”

  “I was young and misled, I admit. But I was not an instigator.”

  “Liar!”

  Hamanaeus was now standing within cane’s length of Minos. “You can kill me, certainly,” he said. “But if you do, you may well be sending this world, and yours, with me.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Sett said. “A real muckety-muck, you are. What’s on your mind, Esquire?”

  “Did you test those arrows I gave you?”

  “I did. Fancy-schmancy,” Sett said, feigning unimpressed. “Congratulations.”

  “And the Swerver?”

  “Huh?” Judge Minos interjected. “Did you just say Swerver? What are you talking about? What Swerver? Here? Now?”

  “Maybe,” Sett said.

  “Some of us would say, absolutely,” Hamanaeus added smugly.

  Minos said, “If that were true, it would be very welcome news for these dire days. So, which is it? Is there a Swerver or not?”

  “There is,” Hamanaeus said assuredly.

  “What proof do you have?” Minos demanded.

  “Plenty,” Hamanaeus said. “My people did a complete genealogical work up on the subject, and it all checked out. We also charted the person’s birth and milestone dates according to linear regression, Fibonacci, and parabolic solar and lunar cycles. In every case, the conclusions were the same. This is a Swerver generation, and Ellen Veetal is this generation’s Swerver. Even your Captain Cyrus had arrived at the same conclusion, though I have no idea what methods he used to do so.”

  “Veetal…?” Minos said, turning to Sett, alarm in his voice. “Didn’t you just report to me—?”

  “I did,” Sett said.

  “Report what?” Hamanaeus said warily. />
  “What is going on here?” Minos growled, stabbing his walking cane into the sand.

  “Commander?” Hamanaeus said. “So my little gift was put to good use, right?”

  “Yeah…no. I gave Captain Volk the match. He did what a cupid is supposed to do.”

  “Supposed to do?” Hamanaeus said, aghast. “What about the arrows?”

  “He didn’t use them.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Didn’t have to. He discovered that the couple was loaded with fear demons and he and his sidekick—a cadet named, Kohai—wasted them. That was all it took. The Matterson fellow immediately proposed and she accepted. Case closed.”

  “But there were no demons,” Hamanaeus insisted. “We checked. She had overcome her demons. That was the final sign that she was the Swerver.”

  “Hardly,” Sett said. “Volk uncovered a brood of young beasties, and deep below them, a slithering Clueless Demon calling the shots.”

  “Well, this is great, just great,” Minos said, throwing his hands in the air. “Commander, why didn’t you tell me she was a Swerver?”

  “It was mere speculation at the time, Your Honor. And it still is.”

  “No,” Hamanaeus insisted, his staid demeanor showing signs of crumbling. “I’m telling you, she was the one. She was the Swerver. And now we are all screwed.”

  Minos said to Hamanaeus. “If you were wrong about the subjects being demon free, then you were certainly wrong about the woman having been a Swerver too.” He turned to Sett. “Commander, get us out of here.”

  “Yes, Sir.” He pulled his inter-dimensional communicator from his utility belt.

  “I’m telling you,” Hamanaeus said, pounding a clenched fist into his hand, “the Swerver is here!”

  “Well, if he or she is, it’s not Ellen Veetal or Chauncey Matterson,” Sett said. “Certainly not anymore.”

 

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