Whatever Gods May Be

by George P. Saunders

  To his rear, mountains formed, miles away; tectonic plates ripped and split in their foundations; across the world, oceans heaved and skies roared.

  It was almost too simple.

  The stars would have to be next.

  The Resistor howled -- and focused on the next Stinger to die.

  Thalick watched Green Belly die; felt the death, the secondary agony of surprise and -- what was it -- incredulity. Never had it been so easy to be destroyed; yet, now, Green Belly was gone. Thalick, more fluent with the ways of human emotions, roared with fury. The other Stingers simply watched quietly, unable to fathom immediately what had transpired; unable, in fact, to fully accept Green Belly's death.

  Thalick's fury was cut short, however, as he noticed One Claw slowly rise into the air.

  One Claw did not squirm as Green Belly had done; curious to the end, he merely analyzed this impressive piece of levitation with quiet composure.

  Nor did he hiss or scream as his one remaining claw and legs were ripped from their powerful joints, until he was a helpless trunk of agony. A moment later, and he was dropped onto the rocks, as if whatever incredible power had taken the time to torment him, was suddenly bored and disgusted with the pastime.

  One Claw's life slowly faded out; Thalick's last empathic message from his comrade was one of admiration. And to think, ten thousand years earlier, his entire race had searched desperately for a means of self-extermination! Another milestone had been breached within Thelerick philosophy; a black sense of humor had been discovered -- a contribution to his kind that One Claw realized, even at his death, was extraordinary indeed.

  Zolan, a hundred yards away, tore his eyes away from the departing Rover, in time to see the obscenities being performed on the Thelericks. The remaining Stingers had all stopped in their tracks, distracted by the deaths of Green Belly and One Claw; Redeyes and Jumpers made good with the opportunity as they raced up the mountains unobstructed by the paralyzed Thelericks.

  Zolan, numb to his very core, could nevertheless see the danger immediately. Humans, who were being transported by Green Belly, were now desperately jumping of the Stinger's back and running for their lives. Seconds later, however, a wall of Redeyes descended upon them, and their tormented screams were lost quickly among those of the more famished vampires.

  She was wrong! Zolan thought suddenly. Nothing could stop the Resistor and his demons.

  But this last thought was obliterated as the brightest light he had ever seen exploded above him.

  * * *

  Failure!

  The entire concept stung the Resistor to the center of his rotten soul. He would lose again.

  He screamed in fury.

  The enemy had won! The Ancient One, The Beloved, the Eternal One had triumphed once again.

  And he could do nothing to stop it. He stared at the ants that were men, Stingers and Redeyes beneath him; he was just beginning to have fun.

  He should have known. He should have killed quickly where the human girl was concerned. She had done this -- as she, and her power, had done so effectively in the past.

  His power was suddenly waning; sucked up somehow by the Ball-machine ahead. He had heard the voice of the Enemy; she had survived somehow, and had returned.

  The cold, dank memories of the black prison came back to him. He would be exiled once more, perhaps for another million years -- or until another mistake was made that would allow him to escape. So long! So very long to wait!

  Yet...perhaps next time, he would win. Or the next. A smile crossed over his fetid features. He would wait. And he would plan.

  One day...he would return.

  As always.

  * * *

  For what seemed like an eternity, the flash endured and expanded, at first warming Zolan's body then seconds later pulverizing it with uncomfortable heat. He could not stand after he was thrown to the ground, nor did he attempt to do so; like a terrified animal, he froze where he fell, prone and quivering as the ball of incandescent hell that was once the Rover's fusion drive engine billowed above.

  There was no noise. Perhaps, Zolan would consider later, this is what made the white nightmare glazing overhead so much more terrifying; even the other equally stunned and frightened tribesman around him could not produce a single whimper of fear. The silence was more glaring, more haunting -- more deafening --than anything Zolan could remember hearing in a very long time.

  * * *

  Monstrously dwarfing all things on a human scale - and perhaps even from a Stinger standpoint - the nova blanketed the sky in light, expanding outwards in a way that the Dark had done only a day earlier.

  The battle was now forgotten, the Redeyes were a thing of the past, and even the Resistor became monumentally insignificant for both tribe and Thelerick alike, as the forces of nature and super-nature roared above.

  The heat did not diminish, and for a brief moment, Zolan thought that he was already dead. His eyes were closed, faced down in the dirt, and he was no longer aware of his own, harried breathing. Only a fraction of his reason functioned now; but what thoughts were marshaled into his tormented soul burned an indelible brand of guilt.

  He had killed a world; he had killed Valry; he had killed his Rover.

  Therefore, he deserved to die -- or much worse. Suddenly, the blinding whiteness slackened, and the pin prickling warmth that had enveloped his body for so long transformed itself into a cool breeze. Even before he opened his eyes, he could hear the first surprised reactions of people and Stingers -- and a rather disgruntled Birdog huddled nearby.

  Hisses filled the air, and as Zolan raised his head and blinked, he could see a Stinger or two moving among the human crowd. Many were like himself, only now picking themselves off the ground and reorienting themselves after the traumatic sky blast. Stingers helped where they could, either administering a quick sting of stimulant here and there, or picking men and women up bodily to a standing position.

  Zolan noticed that it was dark once again, as it had been before the brilliant flash of the Rover's suicide. Thalick loomed above him, creating an additional shadow. The Stinger reached down a claw and helped the man to his feet. Still jittery, Zolan clung on to the pincher, glancing at the turmoil around himself. Everyone seemed unharmed, though just as confused as himself.

  Zolan stared at Thalick blankly. Then, he turned and faced the valley below.

  Something had changed.

  It was still dark, but oddly enough...not as dark. And the Resistor was gone.

  There were still Redeyes in the valley, as well as the cursed rats, but they now seemed lost or disoriented. Quickly, those vampires that had ascended the slope were retreating back into the valley center, while the mob already within, moved drunkenly toward the desert.

  Zolan wanted to holler for joy at the sight, but something else distracted him. It was the sky. Somehow, it was different. No, Zolan thought bedazzled, it was more than that.

  It was beautiful.

  For now, he could see stars everywhere. Familiar constellations crystallized above -- friendly stars and galaxies he had navigated against for ages now twinkled back at him from their icy distance. The Dark/Hall had vanished. Even the fetid odors of the previously rotted landscape had disappeared, replaced instead with a new, fresh quality that reminded Zolan of an old Earth reference to a particular season called springtime. Zolan was squinting for several seconds before he realized why. Something bright was shining down from directly above, warming his head and face.

  He looked up, then fell to his knees.

  Thalick remained silent -- though like Zolan, equally baffled by the sight he was witnessing. Centuries later, both he and the man would not only still be puzzled, but humbled as well by the vision they now faced.

  Hanging over the northwest horizon, in the direction of the Redeye city by the sea, was a single star. It was no larger than a small moon, but it sparkled and shone like a gem. Zolan's knowledge of celestial mechanics crumbled as he stared at it --for her
e, he knew, was much more than a simple sun.

  Reaching out his hand as if to touch it, he whispered her name once more. "Valry."

  The star moved quickly to the center of the sky, washing out the brightness of surrounding stars. The low gasps of all the tribesman chorused into a single hum, while not even a hiss could be heard from the amazed Stingers. There was no way to judge how far the star was from the world; it was moving too fast - and so "unstarlike" - that it was impossible to guess at size or dimension as well. It looked unreal, yet Zolan knew that the star was far from imaginary.

  The Rover and Valry were gone.

  And this "star" had taken their place.

  The Birdog moved up to Zolan and whimpered. Though an intelligent creature, this branch of magic that brought great lights to the sky made her uneasy and fearful. Zolan rubbed a wet nose, and scratched an ear for comfort.

  Zolan followed the star's glide path for several seconds, then turned to regard Thalick. The big Stinger was still observing the sky's new addition, oblivious to everything else around him. A faint, sad smile crossed over Zolan's lips as he regarded the alien. He knew very little about Thalick, less still how the Stinger responded to emotional stimuli. Yet in this moment of shared, tragic loss, Zolan gained a mote of insight.

  Thalick, like himself, truly had loved Valry. What torture he was enduring in private, or alien grief possessed him now, could not be guessed. Yet sadness - maybe like love - was a universal constant, instantly recognizable in any form, on any world.

  Zolan reached out his hand and touched the claw in front of him. Thalick shuddered once, but remained quiet. An unspoken bond was instantly formed, however; a kind of natural kinship that was heightened by the enduring and shared cornerstone of mutual loss.

  "She'll be back," Zolan said quietly. "She promised."

  Far below, the remaining Stinger defense team was in hot pursuit of the Redeyes scrambling for the refuge of desert. They moved sluggishly, almost as if they were in great pain, and did poorly in escaping the vengeful Thelericks. Behind him, Zolan could hear howls and cheers from the giant primitives staring at the routing. As the vampires were driven off of the slopes, a few of the stronger tribesman began to make their way off of the ledge, back into the valley. More followed, and within minutes most of the nine hundred people, sick and well, were halfway down the mountainside.

  Soon, there was only Zolan and Thalick remaining on the massive mountain shelf. Neither one of them attempted communication; their one bond of kinship flared overhead.

  Zolan brought his hand up and waved. The star seemed to twinkle ever so brightly, then began to hump over the skyline.

  Remember me, and I will always be with you. Zolan sniffed and nodded. He continued waving until the last sliver of the star faded completely over the horizon.

  But it was several hours more before both he and Thalick joined the rest of the tribe in the valley.

  FORTY-NINE

  The beginnings of dawn crept over the far horizon, and the Birdog watched the brilliant orb of a long-hidden sun peek above some low hills in the east. The Blue Star had vanished hours earlier and there were only the strange, twinkling lights above which no Birdog or human alive in this age had ever seen. She panted contentedly where she sat, close by Zolan and the silent Stinger. The mother Birdog had not understood what transpired, but her sense of aesthetics informed her that the change was beneficial and pleasing. As she now turned to regard the only two other beings on the ledge with her, she expected to see a similarly satisfied expression on at least the man's face; instead, quite a different vision was to be confronted.

  The Birdog tilted her head in puzzlement, then stopped grinning. With a clear whine of fear, in the next moment she cringed away from her two friends.

  They were still staring at the sky, at the little lights and the darkness. Their eyes said nothing, yet the Birdog sensed they were actually seeing something she was not. But this was not what had frightened her.

  Several feet above the Stinger's mammoth frame and Zolan's head burned two blinding flames, hanging stationary in mid-air. They washed Zolan and Thalick in a warm glow of orange; though neither one of them seemed to be aware of the fire's presence. Unsure of what should be done, the Birdog offered a confused bark in Zolan's direction. The man did not take notice. Further agitated, the Birdog then looked down into the valley where the other Stingers and humans were rambling about. Perhaps some aid could be found there instead.

  But the Birdog was to be frustrated further. For she noticed now that every man and woman and Thelerick were also staring bewildered in her direction, obviously at the apparition of fire dangling above her two friends. The valley was still with awed reverence, and even the great Stingers remained perfectly motionless. There were no more Redeyes to be seen; all had been driven away or destroyed by the purging Stingers, and remarkably, all of the corpses that had littered the valley floor hours earlier had now vanished completely. All signs of danger had disappeared save this last, perplexing phenomenon which somehow involved only Zolan Rzzdik and the Sentinel Stinger.

  But then, abruptly, the fires dimmed out. As if released from some private trance, Zolan and Thalick regarded one another in silence, then turned their attention toward the baffled Birdog.

  Zolan walked over to where she sat and reached out a hand. The Birddog’s momentary growl of nervousness degenerated at once into an obsequious bark of adoration. Her friend was changed now; his hair was pure white, and his face was as smooth as aged marble. But it was Zolan's eyes which had changed most of all. No Birdog could have hoped to explain the difference, but when she looked at the man, an instant feeling of peace and gentleness rushed through her.

  Zolan scratched a favorite ear and then spoke. "Go to your home now. Bring your children back. We will find a new place for you to live."

  "Dalka," the Birdog replied, understanding every word the man had said, and agreeing with it completely.

  Thalick remained on the ledge for only a moment longer, then eased himself over the ridge onto the slope. Zolan gave one more pat to the Birdog before turning to follow the Stinger.

  Content again, and no longer concerned with the meaning of the odd flames that had appeared, the Birdog looked up at the stars and panted. They were fading gradually now, as the giant hue of Sol began to greedily devour the night.

  The Birdog remembered Zolan's instructions. Looking about herself for a decent runway, the Birdog shook out her haunches and flapped her wings.

  Bounding down a smooth part of the mountain slope, she took to the air, circled once over the descending Stinger and Zolan, then set a course for the ocean and home.

  * * *

  The Thelericks began their communication with Thalick.

  IT IS TIME TO LEAVE

  FOR YOU, PERHAPS. I MUST STAY AWHILE LONGER

  WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND. OUR TASK HERE HAS BEEN COMPLETED. THE HUMANS ARE SAFE. THEY GROW STONGER WITH EACH DAY, BOTH PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY. THE POISONS AND PLAGUES HAVE DISAPPEARED. OUR DUTY IS FINISHED NOW. WE MUST CONTINUE OUR SEARCH FOR A HOME OF OUR OWN. IT IS WHAT YOU PROMISED FOR US. IT IS WHAT YOU PROMISED THE TWO WHO ARE NO LONGER WITH US. IT IS WHAT WE PROMISED FOR OURSELVES

  YOU ARE RIGHT. YOU SHALL LEAVE. AND ONE DAY I WILL FOLLOW YOU. BUT I CANNOT DEPART JUST YET. I AM OPEN TO YOU; YOU MUST UNDERSTAND MY REASONS

  SENTINEL, THERE IS TOO MUCH WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT YOU. YOUR REASONING IS UNCLEAR, ILLOGICAL AND DISTURBING. IT REMINDS US OF THE LAST DAYS

  THERE SHOULD BE NO CONCERN. LISTEN ALL. WE ARE OLD; OLDER THAN TIME PERHAPS, YET NOT OLDER THAN CREATION. WE HAVE ENDURED MUCH TOGETHER; WE HAVE TRAVELLED FAR. AND YOU HAVE ALWAYS TRUSTED ME. THIS IS TRUE

  THIS IS TRUE. WE AGREE

  LISTEN ALL. YOU ARE FREE. THE DARK IS GONE; YOU ARE NO LONGER PRISONERS TO THIS WORLD. I AM FREE. AND I WISH TO STAY. YOU WILL GO AHEAD OF ME, AND FIND THE NEW WORLD OF OUR QUEST

  WHY? WHAT KEEPS YOU HERE? EXPLAIN-- EXPLAIN

  HAVE YOU NO MORE CURIOSITY, FRIENDS?
YOU ASK FOR EXPLANATIONS. I CAN GIVE YOU NONE. LOOK AT THIS WORLD! HOW DO WE ACCOUNT FOR WHAT HAS HAPPENED? THERE HAS BEEN TRAGEDY HERE --FOR US -- AND FOR THE PEOPLE OF THIS PLACE. THERE IS LIFE HERE AGAIN, WHERE NO LIFE HAD BEEN BEFORE. DESERT IS FOREST NOW, OCEANS ARE LAKES, AND LIGHT HAS REPLACED DARKNESS. AND WHAT ABOUT THE POWER WE WITNESSED THAT FIRST NIGHT--A POWER THAT MADE US KNOW FEAR FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OUR LIVES? A POWER THAT KILLED TWO OF US. YOU ASK ME WHY I WISH TO REMAIN HERE. I GIVE YOU AN ANSWER, IF NOT AN EXPLANATION. I MUST LEARN, FRIENDS. I MUST LEARN BUT THERE IS ANOTHER REASON

  WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND THIS REASON. IT IS INCONSISTENT WITH THELERICK AND SENTINEL BEHAVIOR

  THERE IS MUCH, FRIENDS, THAT YOU HAVE NEVER COMPREHENDED. I ALONE HAVE SEEN OUR DESTINY, LONG BEFORE NOW. I COULD NEVER HAVE TOLD YOU. YOU WOULD NEVER HAVE ACCEPTED THE TRUTH. TRUE, I STAY FOR ANOTHER REASON. I HAVE MADE A PROMISE

  UNACCEPTABLE POINTLESS ILLOGICAL FUTILE

  I WILL KEEP THE PROMISE. THIS WORLD NEEDS ASSISTANCE. THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING

  SENTINEL, WE UNDERSTAND ONLY IN PART WHAT YOU MUST DO. AND WE AGREE THAT THERE IS MUCH TO BE LEARNED HERE. BUT WE GROW IMPATIENT. WE MUST FIND A HOME. PERHAPS, ANOTHER TIME, WE CAN RETURN HERE.

  PERHAPS. AND YOU WILL FIND ME HERE

  SENTINEL, YOU WILL NOT JOURNEY WITH US NOW?

  NO

  THERE IS NO PERSUASION LEFT TO US

  NO

  THEN WE BID YOU FAREWELL

  It was many a many a year ago,

  In a kingdom by the sea,

  That there lived a maiden, whom you may know,

  By the name of Annabel Lee.

  She was a child and I was a child,

  In this kingdom by the sea,

  But we loved with a love that was more than love

  I and my Annabel Lee.

  Annabel Lee, Edgar Allen Poe

  FIFTY

  Zolan stared at the cave wall in silence, following with his torch the trail of pictures that spanned twenty feet or more. He nodded in thoughtful approval; the dead historian whom he had never met had done a fine job indeed. What he would add to the few pieces of moisture-eaten paper in the way of testimony would not endure as faithfully as Stonepainter's renditions; the fragile papyrus he held in his hand would have to be copied and recopied through the ages if it were to have any hope for survival. But it would have its use one day, just as the rock tableaus he was staring at now would serve to allow the infant Man learn of his world in the most simplistic way possible.