The boy got away – down that watercourse! Eragileak knew a shortcut. Blindness could take Serpens Rex the other way. Could they drive the boy to insanity, or should they just pick him up and shake every bone loose until he was nothing more than a wet, sopping bag? What fun it was to coordinate with Eragileak in hunting down a wounded, whipped, demoralized foe!
The cold water sucked the last bit of warmth out of the serpent. He was almost completely unresponsive. What a disappointment! With wild lashes Blindness drove him on.
Eragileak had the boy. Through his eyes, Blindness saw. That face… Blindness remembered him. They went into the cave together. That forbidden place. One last secret memory that the brain of Saul had not given up…
Gunshot! Eragileak staggered.
That’s strange, it’s leaking. The glow is leaking…
Serpens Rex was finally on the boy. Blindness drove him to kill.
Watch out for the gun! Grab it!
… Not like that!
The hand disappeared and pain overwhelmed Blindness. In horror, Blindness realized that he might actually lose Serpens Rex. He forced Saul to help.
Look, Saul! That boy is going to kill you! He was against you the entire time… he’s loading a gun to kill you! Make him stop!
It was over. Serpens Rex was erased. A great weapon… wasted.
With great sadness, Blindness saw that Eragileak was also dying. The boy turned to him.
That face! What arrogance! What insufferable cruelty!
“One day,” said the boy, “we’re going to do this to all of you.”
Eragileak faded into nonexistence and Blindness was torn from the mines. He was alone again.
No matter, he consoled himself. Even if the boy fumbles his way out of the mines, he’ll either starve to death in the wasteland, or be taken and punished by one of my uncles.
The consolation did not work. Blindness was overcome by a black rage. Who was to blame? In the depths of his psyche, he turned to Saul. His awareness flittered about, scared and desperate.
Now, said Blindness. You will make up for this. The cave. I want the cave. You will tell me what happened in that place where I cannot go…
Or I will strip you layer by layer until only agony remains.
***
Thirty-Six Years Ago
“All of the elements are already in place, Korliss!” said Sevrik. “Haven has airpower. Artillery and a ring of mountains provide an impenetrable defense, although there are a few choke points where we might add security measures. We are impregnable! All that remains now is to send agents out into the world. Teach others… no, train others. The demon’s hold is based purely on fear, and –”
“No, Sevrik, no, no. We have the tools and the weapons, yes, but the will is not there yet. Don’t you understand? No, of course, how could you understand. Sevrik, you spend all day with military-types who stake their reputations on shows of bravado or looking for direction from a top-down structure. You’re surrounded by those people and you no longer see that the average citizen of Haven is simply not psychologically built to handle a long, drawn out war against the very monsters and demon-kings who chased our Founders here in the first place.”
“But that’s all cultural, Korliss. Built from the bottom-up, isn’t it? Which means we could, in theory–”
Sevrik was interrupted when Didi entered the apartment without knocking. Korliss quickly turned and dimmed the lights.
Didi was glad to see that, if you ignored the constant arguments and diametrically opposed personalities, Korliss and Sevrik actually got along quite well.
“Things aren’t going so well for the Department of Science, are they, Didi?” said Korliss.
Korliss had done well as a professor. His ideas and energy had students talking, the older professors respected his work, and he had plans for a detailed work that would possibly fill in the gaps of the historical record of the rise and fall of the Ancients using the transformation of the hero archetype, much of which had been dutifully recorded and protected by scholars among the Entertainers for thousands of years. Included in the work would be a detailed critique of the “post-humor” genre of comedy that was currently popular in Haven. Korliss had moved out of his free quarters provided by the University and moved into an apartment of his own, a roomy studio filled with art pieces made by University students that Korliss wanted to keep an eye on. The three friends often gathered there.
In the dimly-lit room, Didi removed his dark glasses and cleaned them with his eyes closed, then said, “No, things are not going well in the DoS. Funding has been cut back. We can’t pay for all the projects that should have followed the human genome map. And... many people blame the scientists for the deaths in the valley.”
“That’s foolish,” said Sevrik, fiercely. “We did what we set out to do. How could the senate blame anybody for what happened?” He drained his beer and slammed the empty bottle onto the table between them.
Korliss looked out the window at the buildings of Haven. He knew that if he looked out into the street, he would see the lights of rooms, bars, shops. But from his seat, he could only dimly make out the silhouettes of buildings. No lights shine upward in Haven, he thought. We are hiding, always hiding.
“Keep in mind,” said Korliss, “it’s been several generations since anyone headed into the wasteland. Memories are short and fantasy is powerful. The incident at the oasis is a painful reminder of who really rules the world. It reminds us that if a single demon found us out, then our way of life, our collective dream-state, would come to an end.”
“Not without a fight,” Sevrik said darkly.
“Which reminds me!” said Korliss. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain.”
Sevrik saluted with two fingers, then said, “I must admit, I think they only awarded me the Silver Sword and the Rose Heart because I was the only man in my unit who didn’t require extensive post-traumatic stress rehabilitation. They’ll be moving me from Rifle into Rangers soon enough. Did I mention that I’m the youngest Guardian to ever make Captain in Haven? Ever?”
“Didi mentioned that you’ve mentioned that four or five times, yes. But tell me now, Sev, why is it that you didn’t need a complete psychological overhaul after all that business?”
Sevrik laughed loudly, then said, “A little power and responsibility can go a long way toward making a man forget that he unloaded no less than seventeen clips into the worst monsters that Hell has to offer. Three of which were emptied while lying down in some monster’s guts, I might add. I do remember the smell in my dreams, though…”
“Gods!” said Korliss. “You’re disgusting, man!”
Didi spoke up, saying, “Don’t fault him for the pride we all feel in this circle, Korliss. You’ve also been up to something in the name of extending your influence.”
“I was going to bring that up,” said Korliss, smiling as he refilled his glass. “It involves your budget cuts - and empowering our circle in general.”
“Our circle?” said Sevrik. “You make our gatherings seem so... conspiratorial.”
“Let’s be honest,” said Professor Korliss. “They are. We three are young, we’re ambitious, and we’re skilled in our fields beyond anyone in our generation. Even the old generation, the power elite, are discussing us. We have little competition among our peers, and it’s my firm belief that someday Haven will be ours.”
“Our weakness,” said Sevrik, “is that none of us are politicians.”
“Which brings me to the topic I’ve been skirting around,” said Korliss, “and to which Didi referred. The twelve-year elections are coming up in a couple of years.”
“From what I hear at the training grounds, it sounds like the old men are already sweating.”
“It’s early, but they’re sweating for a reason,” said Korliss. “So far the prime minister and the senators have been thought of as individuals, people with their own agendas and their own constituency that they have to pander to. There’s a y
oung man, a University graduate, who is popularizing the idea of party-rule.”
The others perked up, and Korliss continued. “An individual can only do so much, and an individual senator can do even less... especially when he’s dealing with other individuals posed against him, who shut down his ideas because there’s only so much of the pie to go around for only so many ideas. This man is gathering a group around him called the Rabbit Party, and they’re all going to run for office. If any of them take office, and the chances of that are good, then they will work together to promote similar far-reaching programs.”
“But the government of Haven has always been weak,” said Didi. “I thought we kept it weak for a reason - so that less-parasitic systems could flourish.”
“And how can you say that, Didi, when your own system is being withheld its lifeblood by petty men pandering to a group of people afraid of what science can do?”
Didi and Sevrik were silent. “I’ve already spoken with some of the Rabbits. Didi, if they take office, we can get the Department of Science more funding than it has ever seen before. No one will be able to fight them, because the Rabbits will be a unified front. And if the DoS gets more funding, then that means nothing will be withheld from your scientific ambitions. It also means there could be more trips into the wasteland - and, Sevrik, that means more opportunities for you to show the system that you’re a powerful man who deserves responsibility and reward.”
They debated long into the night. Sevrik instinctively distrusted political change, or even meddling in politics in general. But he could not argue that his own organization was not parasitical, especially in times of peace; eventually he agreed that he could not fault the Rabbits so long as he was allowed to continue to protect peace with violence – especially if the men who ran Haven knew his name. Didi was unused to thinking in political terms, and even admitted that he believed politicians and their games of power were a silly remnant of a bygone era. But the DoS needed greater funding if his own dreams were ever going to be anything more than stillborn, and his own life and work over before it began. He agreed that he would support a change in the ruling format so long as it secured funding for the DoS, and would speak to his colleagues about the matter.
Korliss agreed to speak with the Rabbits, and would keep in mind the interests of their circle. Eventually Didi parted from them, and they heard the creaking of his metal brace as he crossed the stone avenue below.
Korliss and Sevrik sat in an open window and looked at the scarred moon. Korliss took a long drag from his cigarette, said, “Sevrik, you and Didi have been back from the wasteland for a long time now, and Didi finished his follow-up experiments months ago. We used to talk about everything, but it’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of him about what happened in the valley.”
Sevrik turned his head about, an animal shackled with discomfort. “It’s not that the mission was botched,” he said. “And it’s not that he saw people die. Didi’s strong enough to cope with that. You’re right, though. He’s withdrawing. I think it might have something to do with… with the results of his studies.”
“His examination of the demonic genome?”
Sevrik nodded, then tilted his head.
“But there’s more?” said Korliss.
“There was... this place,” said Sevrik. He laughed. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Please, try. What kind of place was it?”
Sevrik focused his eye on the moon, then said, “It was... a cave.”
***
Blindness pulled the memory out of Saul like strands of slippery innards.
Show me, he said. Show me the place where my kind cannot go.
The stream collected into a shallow pool around an outcropping of upended flat stones. Saul and Wodi picked their way over the pool and knelt down to peer into a dark niche. The cave exuded an overpowering aura of fear and repulsion. The land was silent, as if holding its breath in dread and expectation. The two boys looked at one another, then climbed down into the hole.
They crouched in the dark and let their hands guide them along a damp, cold wall. Neither was brave enough to turn back for fear of looking like a coward in the other’s eyes.
Saul’s head began to ache. The pain spread from a needlepoint in his forehead to a burning coal that rested at the base of his skull, then turned into an ache in his jaw and teeth. Like a dull, persistent electric shock. He heard Wodi hissing beside him and knew that he felt the same.
Saul closed his eyes for a long time. Wodi touched his shoulder, and he opened his eyes and saw that they had crawled into a square tunnel lit by a dull, red blood-light that radiated not from a single source but seemed to ooze from the chamber itself. The tunnel stretched straight before them, and they rose and walked the red path together. Their pain grew with each step. Wodi gritted his teeth and took the lead. They did not know how far they walked. As in the tree, time and distance lost their meaning. There was only bleeding red, an endless corridor, and a feeling that rooted under the skin: Go away.
Eventually they reached what appeared to be a dead end. Saul watched Wodi turn and enter a cleverly concealed turn. He gasped and stepped back suddenly. Saul went to him, looked, and saw
What? said Blindness, riding atop the experience. What was it?
The tunnel turned into a chamber of red rock. A large, feral, almost bovine skull hung upon the far wall, and chaotic wreaths of long-dead honeysuckle and lilac were laid about the thing. Darkness stared out from the jagged, empty eye-sockets. A powerful, malevolent forced radiated from the skull, and Saul felt his ears hum with deep discord as he looked upon it. The room shivered, and the blood-light clotted in Saul’s eyes. He thought he saw Wodi falling into a pool of blood, then realized that he was slowly approaching the skull. Saul fell against the wall for a moment and closed his eyes against the sickness. He opened them suddenly and saw that Wodi’s hand was stretched out to touch the skull.
“Don’t do it!” Saul rasped. “Don’t! We shouldn’t be here! That thing is the king of the dead!”
He felt dizziness seize his guts and vision, and fell to his knees. He stared down at Wodi’s feet, heard him yelp and back away from the...
What did he do? Why couldn’t you watch him?
“It’s going to eat your soul!” Saul screamed, but could not hear himself over the skull-shaking hum that jarred inside his head. “It’s bigger than we are, it’s going to eat us and change us!”
Saul away crawled on the stone floor. He was half blind and felt the floor turn soft in his hands. He forced his eyes open and saw that his own intestines were streaming out all around him in thick, wadded cords. He crawled through himself, breathing in his own blood, choking on it, drowning in it. He felt Wodi move away from him. He knew that Wodi had disappeared into a great and unimaginable darkness, a place that should not exist.
He was alone. He crawled with his eyes closed until he was in darkness. The pain receded. He rose onto his knees and crawled upwards. His body was whole and intact. When he felt the cool mist of the stream and the kiss of the night sky on his cheeks, he laid down to sleep.
***
Thirty-Four Years Ago
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re writing science fiction,” said Didi.
He shook his head and chuckled, and Sevrik threw his head back and thundered laughter, but Korliss beamed with patronizing pride. “It’s a misunderstood art,” he said, “and besides, I’d go insane if I didn’t work on a steady stream of multiple creative projects.”
Men in fine suits cheered and laughed in the ballroom, and Rabbits popped open an unending battery of Champaign bottles. They cheered and sang old Guardian songs of victory, and red-faced they chased one another while the ladies laughed. Even the Rabbit who had lost his bid for Prime Minister shook with the thrill of conquest and slurred a rousing speech into a microphone he had snatched from the live band.
“But Korliss,” said Didi, “that’s the stuff the laborers read so t
hey can forget the tedium of their lives.”
“Like I said, it’s misunderstood. It’s only become escapist because even artists neglect it! Look at it like this. I want to popularize the idea of the hero, but can I do that by teaching students who’re worried about cramming for exams, or by writing papers seen only by my over-the-hill colleagues? Take yourselves, for example. You, Sevrik, have put your life on the line for your people and our way of life, but this goes unnoticed by many because of their misconception of the Guardian as a brute, shallow man. And you, Didi, work diligently to add quality to our lives through the advancement of knowledge and technology, but you work so quietly in your underground lab that nobody really understands where those life-enhancing drugs and gadgets come from. And I’ve worked to spread a pro-human ethos that the Founding Fathers would be proud of, but while I influence a life here and a life there, the majority of Haven doesn’t know and doesn’t care. But when I hide my philosophy within an action-packed novel, the common man who reads them will absorb a strong ideology - even if it’s on a level that he doesn’t consciously understand.” The two thought for a moment, and Korliss said, “I want to raise us above the level of the demon and the demonic culture of fear and obedience. Art may be the best way to do that. I can’t help it if it’s not boring!”
Sevrik said, “You’ve got a quicksilver tongue, professor.”
“But still, it’s fiction,” said Didi. “It’s made-up. Real life is exciting enough.”
“Art is real life,” said Korliss. “Art is entertainment, entertainment is culture, and culture is a facet of the human experience. And we can all agree that the advancement of the human is the agenda of our circle.”
Sevrik nodded vigorously. Before Didi could respond, a Rabbit stumbled into the friends and said, “I just wanted to thank you all most rightly!” He grabbed Korliss’s hand and shook it, shook Sevrik’s hand, shook Korliss’s again, then hung an arm around Didi. “We couldn’a done it without you guys!”
He leaned his face into Didi’s as he spoke, and Didi moved away, for he smelled an entire distillery inside the Rabbit. “I thank you, too,” said Didi.
“And I thank you too, too! You just wait, Dada, we’re gonna reinjuvinate the sciences! We’re gonna, you’re gonna have so much to do with, you’ll... head’ll spin!”
Demonworld Page 17
