Whatever Gods May Be

by George P. Saunders

  But the Rover had mentioned something about stopping Him. "

  Yes," a new voice reverberated through the watch, "He will be stopped, 'Zolan. Thanks to you and the Rover."

  "Valry," Zolan shouted, making the dumbfounded vampire that had considered attacking him before the Resistor's appearance take renewed interest. "You're safe," he said, tears coming to his eyes.

  Phillips had awakened now -- for the last time. Hearing Valry's voice, he battled his way to a resting elbow to listen further. He could hardly breathe, as his lungs had been shredded by the vampire earlier, and blood was flowing rather freely from his chest, arm and mouth. He did not try to speak...but a slow, almost knowing smile passed over his mauled face.

  For Valry had come home once again after all.

  "I'm fine, Zolan. And I thank you for all your help."

  "But I didn't do anything," Zolan defended meekly, wanting to talk about anything else aside from yet one more failure.

  "That's not true, Zolan. You're here, aren't you?" Valry asked gently. "Without you, all would have been lost."

  Zolan said nothing.

  "Poor Zolan. You still don't understand. You still don't believe that your arrival here was more than accidental. Perhaps it doesn't matter. In time you will."

  "Zolan," the Rover chipped in, "where do you think you are?"

  Zolan remained silent. He felt like he was about to begin a long sleep.

  "We came back, Zolan," the Rover said, "to Earth."

  Of course, Zolan thought numbly. But didn't he always have that feeling; a feeling he had successfully been able to ignore up to now?

  "We failed, my friend," the Rover spoke as gently as Valry now. It had called him "friend." How was that, Zolan vaguely wondered; the Rover wasn't programmed for that. It didn't matter. The ship was his friend -- the best friend he had ever had. "Yet it was a failure that was planned eons before you and I ever existed. Like precision parts to an enormous, all-controlling machine, you and I were honed to perfection for the roles we had been created for this day a thousand million years ago."

  Zolan found his voice, as he stared out at the glowing valley before him. Everything seemed frozen around him; no movement took place and not a sound could be heard. Only the haunting apparition of hate reigned supreme, though it too was oddly inactive. It was as if he were trapped in a vacuum; time and space had stopped for everything else, except himself.

  "Earth. Through the Hall?" Zolan muttered sleepily.

  The Rover sounded unmistakably sad. "Yes. It simply shifted us some nine hundred thousand years ahead in a matter of seconds. We never left, Zolan."

  And we'll never leave, Zolan finished the thought for his ship.

  "All that you see here is the result of what we saw transpire that last day; which was for us, only forty eight hours ago."

  "The War," Zolan answered automatically, "It did all this?"

  "Not all, Zolan," the Rover said solemnly. "In fact, it did very little compared to what...you and I are guilty of."

  Zolan stared down at his watch in puzzlement. "I don't understand, Rover."

  "The Hall, Zolan," the ship spoke very slowly, "never sealed itself. I was unable to effect any kind of closure. And because it was essentially a sub-warp to the main Hall, it was a thing totally out of control, like a dismembered limb still animated by a series of nerves producing undirected energy. My internal defenses were useless against the forces taking place within the Hall when we entered. As a result, all my instrumentation was fused within seconds."

  "Meaning?" Zolan asked; yet, now, he had the horrible feeling he understood all.

  "Impact!" the Rover said simply. "But the consequences of such a disaster were more far-reaching than I had anticipated. You see, the Hall is basically a non-destructive entity. By its very nature in this universe, it can barely maintain itself for any length of time. The Hall is nothing-more really than an enormous hole in space; in our, three-dimensional space, that is. Perhaps within the countless planes of a million other dimensions, it is something different completely. But because of its relatively impotent makeup in this universe, very little in the way of physical damage can be inflicted."

  "Which is why we weren't destroyed," Zolan finished.

  "Or for that matter, the Earthship of Valry's father or the Thelerick Stingers," the Rover continued.

  Zolan raised an admiring eyebrow. There was no need to ask the Rover how he had acquired so much information; where Valry was concerned, anything was possible.

  "Then what happened to the Hall?" Zolan asked. The Rover remained uncomfortably silent for the next few seconds.

  "The Hall is still here, Zolan. This world has another name for it that is not entirely inappropriate."

  No, no, Zolan collapsed inside. The Dark!

  "It's really quite fascinating, Zolan," the Rover rattled on with clear intrigue, "for without an extraordinary set of haphazard coincidences, the Hall would have probably passed right through Earth as harmlessly as a shower of microscopic meteorites. As it was, however, and to use an old Earth saying, 'a lot of fuel was added to the fire,' to wreck insurmountable havoc."

  Zolan's face hung slack and his eyes were stunned and tired slits staring at his comwatch. He did not notice an approaching figure ten feet away from him.

  "What happened?" Zolan asked, sounding like a spanked little boy.

  "In the first few hours of the war, Earth's atmosphere absorbed nearly a hundred times its normal radiation balance from the resulting detonations. There was also several million tons of pulverized ash circulating about than ever before. Consequently, the heat generated in the upper stratospheric regions of the planet digressed and transformed itself into primarily electricity -- of which the decaying ozone layer helped immensely to produce. When this supercharge of energy was absorbed by the concentration of ore and mineral fallout worldwide, a magnetic field formed in the atmosphere. In short, Earth became in a matter of hours, or even minutes, an immense vacuum cleaner. Anything within a hundred thousand miles was sucked downward."

  "Dear God," Zolan muttered, "including the Hall?"

  "Including the Hall. And once exposed to an electromagnetic field - the only force known in nature stronger than gravity - it could no longer retreat into the primary Hall opening outside of the solar system. Instead, it coiled itself around Earth like a snake." The Rover paused here as if to consider the marvel of it all before continuing. "As time wore on, the initial feeble mass of the Hall - now highly electromagnetized - began to decay and disassemble itself."

  "Ah," Zolan said in an enlightened tone of voice, "the black globules I first saw. You mean they were actually still part of the Hall?"

  "Exactly. And all equally charged. This would account for my complete paralysis shortly after entering the Hall, and subsequent failure of all operations."

  "And the Stingers?" Zolan asked rather distantly.

  "Like the Redeyes, as well as the Earthship Challenger, they were indiscriminately sucked up into this particular Hall entrance and then deposited here on Earth. The Stingers, of course, were innocent passerbys, but the vampires had been released from an alternate plane somewhat similar to our three-dimensional universe. As a result, their conquest of this world was relatively simple. Furthermore, the Hall itself had physically altered. I still cannot pinpoint exact differentiations, but I know that the transformation precipitated damaging and lethal effects on the entire atmosphere."

  "Which is why," Zolan summed up quietly, "all the people are dying."

  "For this reason, too, but also because the human race on this world has undergone severe and debilitating mutation. The Hall has of course enhanced this deterioration, but the original fuel for disaster was still primarily the war."

  So , it had all been spelled out to him. He had never left Earth; he had single-handedly maimed an entire world; and, ultimately, he was responsible for the deaths of nine hundred thousand years of Earth ancestry .

  "My fault," Zolan was lost in his
own world now. "I...did all of this." He sunk to his knees and stared out at the giant figure of the Resistor, still staring motionlessly miles away in the desert.

  Time still seemed to have stopped for him; nothing moved, howled or hissed. Only the words of his ship echoed through his mind.

  Yet, he did notice a movement out of the corner of his eye...

  "Our fault, Zolan. Mine more than yours probably. But we're about to redeem ourselves, thanks to Valry."

  Zolan whispered more to himself than to the Rover as he closed his eyes and wept. "How?"

  "The Hall is much more than we understand it to be, Zolan. It is literally a probe into the very guts of our universe, as well as all adjacent, parallel and opposite universes. One might call it the right hand of God. It is a benevolent creation; a kind of intricate circulatory system to all existence. But now it has been transformed into a weapon. Evil has taken over, and would use it to bridge other worlds and dimensions to inflict as much damage as possible. We, my friend, are in a position to stop it."

  Valry's voice chirped in once again.

  "That is why I thanked you, Zolan. You provided the necessary instrument to forestall catastrophe. And once the Rover and I are gone, your new responsibilities will just begin."

  Zolan raised his head in bafflement. "Gone? Where... are you going?"

  "Take care of my people," Valry said in a voice nearly as metallic as that of the Rover. "They are yours now. They are about to begin anew. Help them, teach them, and Zolan, most important of all -- love them! They have suffered enough. Do this for me, and I will always love you and remember you... as I have always done for these brief hours on Earth. I will never abandon you, Zolan; this is my promise to you. And one day - no matter how impossible it now may appear - I will return. For then, Zolan, we will be together forever."

  "Good bye, Zolan, my good friend," the Rover said. "There is much I still don't know -- but somehow, I think we also will meet again."

  * * *

  A wind passed over Zolan's face, and suddenly there was sound again.

  "Rzzdik!" Phillips yelled, as the vampire ahead soared in the air directly for Zolan's face.

  Very little in the way of feeling or pain remained in the mangled body of John Phillips. Fortunately, however, his mind in these last dying moments had been spared like abuse. He could still think, and ponder -- and be amazed. As he watched the glowing, beautiful image of Zolan sobbing next to him, a kind of last-ditch strength filled not only his spirit, but also his tattered limbs as well.

  This divine spark of energy would save Zolan's life. It would also destroy John Phillips.

  He had seen the vampire approaching for several seconds. It was confused and enraged; distracted by the desert apparition, it almost seemed unsure of whether or not it should take the chance and disturb the solemn quiet that now pervaded across the world. Yet, Zolan's speaking and occasional emotional outbreaks while communicating with Valry and the Rover had been enough to tear the famished vampire's attention from the eyes of its leader. So close to the prey, it did not bother to advance further; it simply sprung into the air toward Zolan.

  Phillips would not have the opportunity later to wonder how he had struggled to his feet, or for that matter, what kind of power had allowed him to also jump toward the attacking vampire and intercept its deadly course. His last thoughts were remarkably peaceful, as much as his body was now suddenly pain free.

  He did not even scream as both he and the startled vampire went hurtling into the narrow canyon.

  Zolan followed the twisted, clutching bodies of Phillips and the Redeye for only a second. Then the blackness of the chasm swallowed up even shadows, leaving nothing but the barely perceptible echo of falling pebbles. Zolan listened for a moment longer; he could not even hear the dull thud of impact from Phillips' and the vampires' bodies.

  Zolan felt drained and disoriented; he was not even sure if he felt distressed at Phillips' death - or gratitude that a strange Earthman had saved his life and sacrificed his own in the process. He could only think of Valry...gone -- with the Rover.

  Suddenly, there was sound again everywhere. Growls, hisses and human screams blasted into the world. Twisting himself around violently, he could see that the giant green-eyed devil in the desert was moving forward. Silently, with a horrible, fanged smile on its face, the Resistor crushed thousands of the Redeyes with every step it took. Within seconds, it would be at the mouth of the valley.

  "Dalka?"

  The mother Birdog bounced down the slope, rolling finally to a stop only inches from where Zolan was standing mesmerized. She nuzzled his hands desperately, then turned and faced the crowd of advancing Redeyes ten feet away.

  Zolan's stupor was shattered. He mounted the Birdog like a horse, then grabbed the great tufty fur in his hands. No sooner had he done this, than she was off.

  There was only one way for her to gain enough momentum again for a takeoff -- and that was to go down. Plowing forward, she put herself on a direct collision course with the thick body of vampires ahead. Too stupid to react to several tons of Birdog plunging downhill, the Redeyes simply growled and threatened as she approached them.

  Zolan kept his head down, buried in fur, as the Birdog smashed into a solid wall of bloodsucker. Enraged howls and agonized screeches tortured his ears, as bodies and fluid sprayed past him. The Birdog did not decelerate; a few seconds later and her great wings were flapping, and Zolan realized he was flying.

  The Birdog made a tight turn toward the mountain again, and headed for the high ledge where nine hundred members of the tribe stood terrified watching the horror before them. Green Belly was fifty feet below the ledge, ready if necessary to meet the first wave of the enemy should they get that high on the mountain. Further down the slope, nine other Stingers, including Thalick, were retreating slowly upwards. The Redeyes, however, had ceased their advance; they seemed to be waiting for their King to catch up to them at the mountain base.

  The Birdog dropped gracelessly onto the wide plateau, sending a crowd of people scrambling out of her way. Zolan was thrown a few feet by the rough landing, but was unharmed. Several giants helped him to his feet, and then once again, all eyes were directed to activities below.

  Zolan checked his comwatch. The red light that had moments earlier been reactivated by the Rover, lay dark and quiet.

  My fault! Zolan repeated to himself over and over again; all this because of me!

  "Valry," Zolan whispered quietly into the dark. "Take. . me...with...you!"

  He felt an enormous tongue lash against his cheek. The mother Birdog was giving him a kind of half grin, mixed with a pant. She would have looked content had it not been for the expression in her large, brown eyes which bespoke a deep terror. Only Zolan seemed detached from the Resistor's approach; for he alone was experiencing worse hells than could ever be produced by the green demon ahead.

  Zolan reached out and scratched a now-familiar ear. "Don't be afraid," he cajoled earnestly. "Nothing will hurt you. My poor, brave Birdog."

  Zolan sat there for a moment and smiled weakly. "You came back to help me again, didn't you? I wonder, was that also part of Valry's plan?" Zolan scratched harder, much to the mother's delight. "I hope that your pups are alright."

  Somehow he knew that they were.

  The sky was no longer pitch black. The glowing fire from the Resistor's eyes flooded the valley with a sickly green. Zolan stared nonplussed at the vision of evil. He was not worried, for he realized that the Rover and Valry would somehow manage to keep their promise.

  * * *

  Far below, Thalick had broken away from his companions, and was now crawling up the mountain face towards the wide ledge that held the tribe. The vampires were still checking their attack, as the unholy giant of green pounded into the valley and approached the lower slopes, but the Stingers were still in battle position ready for the worse.

  Thalick had just arrived to the ledge, near the spot Zolan was standing, when the low drone of
the Rover's cripple engine hummed overhead. All heads turned upwards -- including the hellish skull of the fanged Resistor.

  Then Valry's voice rang out.

  "You must stay for awhile longer, my dear friend Thalick. For you and Zolan, there is still much work to be done. You must promise to do this for me."

  Thalick hissed in confusion at hearing the girl's voice.

  "Remember me, Zolan," Valry said in a tone of voice that held the unmistakable promise of farewell. "Remember me."

  The Rover starship hovered for only a moment longer. Then, it disappeared into the black sky above.

  * * *

  Evil. An interesting concept, if not a bit inaccurate; the Resistor felt oddly philosophical -- he viewed himself always as simply, and with a certain touch of humility, a master of chaos. Good and Evil were human creations; primitive delineations that represented controls on fear, or more specifically, qualities of fear. They did not really apply to him.

  He was a disrupter; a creation of non-symmetry.

  A lover of mayhem.

  Evil?

  Not really.

  The Resistor stared down into the valley, drunk with a power he had not felt in over ten million years.

  Now that power could be used.

  With a finger, he pointed towards one of the Stingers nearly five miles away. This creature, and others like it, had thus far remained indestructible to his influence. Now, if he pleased, he could crush it -- or this world, if he so chose.

  The Stinger was lifted off the ground, squirming in wonder. Then, quite suddenly, it was in His palm. As he had done so effortlessly with the vampiric corpse of Cathy Phillips, the Resistor closed his hand.

  For the first time in ten thousand years, a Thelerick Stinger died.

  The Resistor dropped the corpse, and studied the valley ahead of him. He could now dispose of the Stingers completely; a joy he would take his time with.