Wodan disappeared in the darkness of the hall. Vachs whirled on Udo, shouted, “Shem, slap that worthless piece of shit Cramer and get him up, get him on that computer, find out exactly where that audio feed was sent! We - we might just be able to patch this up! Shem!”
Udo cradled the bloodied boy in his arms and gazed down at his face. “Let’s just rest for now,” he said softly. “Let’s just rest.”
Chapter Sixteen
Final Exam
Wodi hasn’t visited us yet. It’s been almost a week! But I know he’s busy trying to figure out who kicked him out of Haven in the first place. And if anyone can get to the bottom of it, it’s Wodi!
- from Rachek’s Red Diary
* * *
Professor Korliss Matri watched the fires of the zeppelins burning in the dark from the roof of his apartment building. The flash of gunfire, the blinding flare of the balloons, and then the slow, winding descent. He watched the smoke from hundreds of ruined buildings rise into the dense cloud of black smoke overhead.
“Even if Haven survives this day,” he said softly, “in the long run, this is the end of Haven.”
The fire escape ladder shook and clattered against the side of the building. A shadowy form clambered over the side, then landed quietly before him. The figure was armed with a long rifle, a sniper’s weapon.
A gunship passed overhead, engine roaring. An explosion far behind cast red light on the side of Wodan’s face, eyes wide and hard, mouth clasped shut, wind from the gunship’s blades whipping his hair and cloak. Then darkness.
Wodan raised his rifle, then tossed it to the side. He pulled the audio recorder from his pocket and threw it aside as well.
“Teacher,” said Wodan. “I’ve come for my final lesson.”
“I cannot give you the mercy of a final lesson.” Korliss watched the dark figure’s approach. “Nature, in her cruelty, demands that you never stop learning... so long as you live.”
“I might die yet, before this day is done.”
“Then let me finish the story that Vachs began, while you’re still alive to hear it.”
Wodan stopped before him.
“About a year ago,” said Korliss, “I found that some of the data on my computers had been plundered. An anonymous student’s computer was used in the theft. I suspect it was a boy named Darel Juniorswerth. I’ve heard he is a very good hacker.”
“And he used your ports to infiltrate Didi’s.”
“Did he? That makes sense. Anyway, not long after that, I was called into the Prime Minister’s office. He made allusions to information that had passed between Didi, Sevrik, and me. He even hinted that he knew about our Project. But he only hinted. That, combined with Shem Udo stalking about the office, was terrifying - the idea that I had no real way to determine exactly how much he knew, you see. Did he know about our plans to create a superbeing? If he did, then did he know about our plans to topple not only his regime, but even the very bureaucratic democracy that is the system of governance in Haven, and to put in its place a genetic king? I wondered if he understood that we three practically governed Haven… if only from the shadows.
“Fearful as I was, I railed against Vachs, and even shouted at that brute Udo. I was like a hero from one of the stories that I teach from. But the pair remained amiable. Sickeningly so. Later, I even had dinner with Vachs. He thanked me for all the work I had done in setting up the political Party system. That was something I had done years ago, when I was younger, more headstrong... more foolish. He made veiled references to Haven’s current political mire, and I became convinced that he was sure that all of Haven’s problems were my fault. I was convinced that he was saying that my intentions, no matter how good, had in some sense undone the work of the Founding Fathers. But he said nothing concrete, he made no clear statements that I could refute. After that, nights of peaceful, dreamless sleep were a thing of the past.
“A few days later, I was invited to a Running Wind political party. Many professors were there, the scene itself was not new to me. Vachs and I had drinks together in a private corner. He seemed slightly drunk, and made references to political fiascos... and to things that could have become fiascos, that could have ended weaker administrations. He referenced problems that he had made disappear, problems that could not touch him. And Udo was in the background the entire time. Later, Vachs gave a speech regarding the equality of all men and the moral injustice of placing any one man over another. He also mentioned that it would be a mockery of man’s moral nature to place an ideal in the body of any one person. I realized that he had never been drunk at all. As he gave this speech, he stared at me the entire time. I knew then that he had been able to draw the existence of the superbeing out of the harmless bits of data that Darel had given him. He knew.
“My suspicions were confirmed later. Vachs and Udo came to my home. There Vachs laid out for me that he knew that Didi and Sevrik were part of a conspiracy to oust him or, if not him, then the next justly-elected Minister of Haven. He said he knew that I had been privy to much of their plans and that Didi and Sevrik might even condescend to me by saying that I was a part of their conspiracy. I was frightened at his persistence - and frightened by Udo’s presence - and I denied having ever worked with them. I was not so heroic that night... I was only adamant that I had never done anything to threaten Haven in any way. The worst part was that the matter was dropped, we had drinks, and I sat, exhausted and silent, while Vachs rambled on about his dreams of being able to make wishes come true for the common man, the “true ruler” of Haven.
“For days I was torn up about the matter. Even teaching my specially selected pupils seemed a farce, a crime, and the few times that I saw Sevrik or Didi in those days... their words seemed like so much tripe, like little boys gossiping about their parents. It was even worse when I joined in, because I felt like a hypocrite, a liar, a half-man who would be anything for anyone. I also realized then that I… I hated Didi. He was my opposite. He always said little, but spent his time working and creating. I began to believe that he was not even human. Then I questioned my own definition of what a human was, and wondered if I was even human. I certainly did not feel human any longer. And if Didi was a great man, then I... I was a maggot.”
“What are you talking about?” Wodan said loudly.
“I taught only with words!” Korliss shouted. “But Didi... he was a man of action! He was even a real criminal! It was Didi who, without remorse, destroyed an unborn child and made him into something else! All I could do was talk about it! Much less stop him! I babbled on and on all day long about heroes and villains, and then at night I bit my pillow and pretended at having some sort of sorrow... but all I felt was emptiness and regret! Don’t you understand? Somewhere deep inside, I wanted to destroy what Didi had made!”
“That’s bullshit,” said Wodan. “You’re not being honest with yourself! I understand that you must have been jealous of Didi’s accomplishments. Who wouldn’t be? He’s a great inventor. He can become so completely absorbed in making things or learning about things that he doesn’t even seem aware that he’s been sitting in a dark room, alone, for days on end. For a people-person like you, I’m sure Didi can seem like someone who has something that you lack. But, sir, that’s not true at all! It’s your job, your role, to be a teacher. You can convey ideas and inspiration in a way that no one else can! Even if you could never literally be a hero yourself, do you realize how many people have been inspired toward heroism because of you? Your work is especially important in an age when heroism seems outdated, as it does now – just when we need it the most!”
Wodan circled Korliss, and said, “I understand jealousy. When I was in the wasteland, I always looked up to Marlon. He was stronger than me, a survivor, a natural leader. I had always been content to wallow in solitude. When I was with the other exiles, there were plenty of times when I could have spoken up or contributed an idea, but I didn’t. I didn’t have to, because I could rely on Marlon. But just because
I was envious, that didn’t mean that I was evil, or that I wanted him to - what’s so funny?”
Korliss shook with uncontrollable laughter, his shoulders hunched strangely. Wodan stopped circling him and immediately Korliss pivoted and turned about so that he faced away from Wodan. His laughter stopped, turned into a fit of sobbing, and then he sucked the tears back into his nose. “Marlon Ziello,” he said, “the great warrior, the slayer of demons! Mister Kyner… Marlon was one of the victims who I chose to kill.”
Wodan stood, numb with shock, while Korliss composed himself, rubbing his face on the hem of his robe. “Vachs made me a proposal. We could, he said, wish away the things that plagued us. I was so full of remorse for the hubris of my youth that I jumped at his offer. No, no, that’s not true... I went to his office and begged him to leave me alone, to forget the matter, to believe that the meetings with Didi and Sevrik were the imaginings of tired old men. I crawled on the floor before him, in tears, desperate to shut the thing up in a closet, to seal up the whole matter and just forget it, to wish it away. Vachs sent me away. His secretary called me the next day and told me to make an appointment for a visit from the Prime Minister.
“Vachs visited my home and spoke with me at length. On and on he droned, taking turns crushing my ego and building it up, enforcing my sense of guilt and then belittling it, telling me that there was nothing to fear and then telling me that he was the ultimate thing to fear, stripping me layer by layer until I was so exhausted it felt as if I no longer had any sense of self. Only his words seemed real any more. Udo stood nearby the entire time, drinking my wine, and their lap dog Seloid Cramer watched us with those cold eyes of his. Vachs said that, together, we would make some troublesome people disappear, and our problems would disappear with them. Without a word from me, I felt myself going along with him.
“He said that Peter Remus was a festering boil. He would be the prime target. As he talked in his strange, flowery way, I became hysterical. The whole thing seemed so unreal, and yet it was something I could not escape, something... that I did not want to escape. Vachs seemed quite relieved once he’d settled on the matter of murdering Remus. I wanted that relief, too. I admit it, I wanted relief... from life. But the memory of my life’s work was still there, nagging me, torturing me. I made a “stand” against Vachs then. I said that I would not go along with outright murder. He could not quite grasp the idea that neither I nor Didi nor Sevrik had any idea whose genes we had tampered with-”
“Why didn’t Vachs just have Remus murdered on his own? Why tie that together with an attack on some young person whose genes had potentially been altered?”
“Because the entire plot was political in nature. Vachs wanted rivals out of the way. And not just for himself, but for politically-minded younger men that he’d groomed to rule after his retirement. I think that he could have had Remus killed on his own and not included me at all. But he has a sort of give-and-take mindset, you see. Not trade, it’s not about trade. It’s about giving and taking favors, or sinning together, and trusting one another with the potential for blackmail. He wanted me to reveal who this Project was very, very badly. And I would have, too, because Vachs had chosen well when he picked me as the weak link between Didi, Sevrik, and myself. Vachs is, you see, a master of human weakness.”
“It has to be more than that,” said Wodan. “This is all theoretical. Murder is concrete.”
“Ah, but Vachs is a master of confusion, isn’t he? He told me that real life is confusing, and that a bureaucracy, by its nature and by the nature of the people who work within it, is not equipped to handle a mystery chock full of the absurdity that is human life. If one man goes missing, one can find clues, study motive, then wrap the thing up all in one neat package and imprison the aggressor. Peter Remus goes missing: Who is his rival? Who has that rival been speaking with lately? How can the rival be tracked, studied, and trapped? You see? But if a group of people go missing, all for wildly unrelated reasons, then reason itself would not be sufficient to track down the aggressor. His plan was to invalidate reason from the very beginning, because reason was his prime enemy in this nonsensical plot.
“After he admitted that he would murder Remus, and anyone with the potential to stand against him, even a defenseless child... as I said, I stood up to him. I didn’t have the power to stop him, and I knew it. I knew how weak I was, and he did, too. So...”
“So you gave him the idea of an exile.”
Korliss nodded. “That I did. I told him that if a Havender was sent into the wasteland, it would be the same as murdering him. He immediately gave in. I was surprised. I was filled with confidence. When he asked me who I would like to have disappear, I was struck by the absurdity of it all. So I picked an old man named Salem Jules.”
“Why him?”
“Years ago, when I was a young professor full of self-righteous nobility, he was a janitor at the University. Jules mocked me one day, called me some name I can’t even remember. I’m sure that my haughty sense of self was plainly written all over my face, and that’s why he chose to ridicule me. He did it again, too, when I was in the presence of a peer that I admired. I was struck by the terrible notion that anyone at any time, no matter how low his station in life, could mock me no matter how far I rose. In idle moments, I sometimes thought of beating the man. Physically, I mean - striking him in the face. Of course, I was horrified that an idle cretin could cause a professor to fantasize about violence.
“So, almost as a joke, I picked Jules - but Vachs went along with it. He seemed to understand without any explanation. After that the whole thing seemed even more ridiculous, like a dream. Why not go along with it? So Vachs said it was his turn to pick again. He picked Doctor Mercule Hermann. Vachs said that this man, drunk at a political function, had engaged in a debate with Vachs when he was still Senate Voice, the majority leader. Doctor Hermann, normally soft-spoken, said that it was interesting to him that a doctor, a biologist whose work was useful, could actually hold less esteem than a politician, whose sole occupation was to talk for a living. Vachs humored the man at the time, but he secretly swore that he would destroy him someday. As he explained this, I was struck by the smallness of both of us, how petty our motivations for murder truly were. I was just like him. A monster.
“It was my turn to pick next, and Vachs impressed on me the idea that he wanted a Project potential to be thrown into the mix. I chose a lad for whom the idea of superhuman strength terrified me, a boy whom Sevrik had told me about. I chose Marlon Ziello, a lout for whom even normal human genes were a waste.”
Wodan was grateful for the darkness that hid his face from his teacher. He was ashamed to listen to his beloved mentor debase himself so thoroughly. This was the man who taught Wodan about Haven’s Founding Fathers and why their conflict was not just a series of names and dates to memorize, but was a real-life illustration of the battle between freedom and tyranny, perhaps even good and evil. No one had ever given Wodan such a gift before. Now, hearing him speak of his own petty jealousies and immoral drives threatened to destroy the very ideals that Wodan held dear.
“Vachs’s third choice was Professor Iduna Deira, an educated woman who was no threat to him in any way. He had nothing against her, really, except that he was tired of seeing her face in the news and tired of reading her political essays. Her disappearance would only further muddle the clues that connected Remus to Vachs and to the nature of the plot in general.”
“But that makes no sense!” said Wodan, railing at the senseless stupidity of the entire affair.
“Think about it, Mister Kyner. Professor Deira was a true progressive. She utterly believed in the ideals that she wrote about and spoke about. How annoying would that be to you if you were a political figure who was supposed to be the embodiment of those ideals, but ultimately, at your core, you believed in nothing?”
Korliss let that sink in, then continued. “For my final choice, I picked Luumis Lamsang, a dull-witted sociopath with absolutely no p
otential. If he turned out to be our superbeing, the world would be damned by one more psychotic brute. I tried with him, at first. He included in one of his University papers the idea that he thought of himself as a heroic “lone wolf”, rehashing a cliched image of a “badass” that only reinforced his own shortcomings. I corrected his self-defeating metaphor by telling him that a wolf, in some sense, is a parasite that lives off the lives of others and profits from the work of human farmers, and a lone wolf is actually a weak or lame wolf that has been driven out of its pack because it is unable to contribute its fair share. I understand the drive to break away from the pack, in a manner of speaking, but Luumis needed, more than anything else, to make friends and find his place in society. If he turned out to be our Project, I can only imagine him using his strength to force his twisted ideals onto others, forcing us into a new dark age. He thinks that all humans are evil because he himself is weak and spiteful. He proved this beyond any doubt when he became a terrorist and a murderer.”
“He nearly killed my parents,” said Wodan.
“I... I actually felt good when I chose to have him exiled. I think that I was afraid that he was the perfect embodiment of my own teachings. A hero unafraid to take a life in the name of an ideal.”
“But the Hell Hounds took me, instead, when they gathered the exiles.”
“You do look so much like him, Mister Kyner. You really should carry proper identification on your person. Funny, though, how the universe has a way of working itself out.”
“But there was one more victim.”
“Yes! The night went by so easily once we got started. Then Vachs... he truly is evil, Mister Kyner. He chose the last exile. In his sick and twisted mind, it made sense for him to choose someone close to me, someone that I loved dearly. He chose Saul Hargis. I had hoped, with all my heart, that he was Project! His intelligence, his grace, his sensitivity! He is even descended from a long line of wasteland kings - did you know that? He was the sort of pupil who inspires a teacher to teach! Vachs knew about our private lessons, our online communications... and he took him from me! He wanted me to understand that we were not equals in this partnership. He wanted me to know that he could hurt me, could hurt me anytime he wanted! How I begged him to forget the exile, to just drop the matter so we could grow old and die and be forgotten! He laughed at me as I prostrated myself on the floor. Laughed at me, a professor full of heroic ideals. While I cried on the floor of my own home, his secretary took notes, promised to leave the exiles with a map and supplies, and even dashed off a copy of the list of exiles we had come up with.”
[Demonworld #2] The Pig Devils Page 28
