9 Incarnate: Caitlin Diggs Series 4

by Gary Starta

  As I worked to muffle the flame in the blue world’s sea, Isis explained.

  “You have just survived balefire. It’s a wonder you’re alive.”

  I tried to rationalize how I was able to defend myself against a god’s weapon. I couldn’t. I tried to speak again but Isis intervened. “Let me handle the king.”

  They spoke but not in English. I could hear the muffle of vibration, their words carrying back and forth across the blue sea to each other. They spoke in water. Water was indeed alive and communicating with us. But in our world we never took the time to understand this. This would be one of many things to bring back to my future citizens—the importance of water and how we treat it. I also thought I might never make it back there, especially after Indra’s reaction.

  Isis had struck a nerve. Indra had once battled a foe who had stolen all of Earth’s water. Sound familiar? Engaging the demon in battle, a mighty dragon, Indra was able to slay it, returning the water to the people and saving countless lives. I could see why this crime in comparison had resonated much more deeply with Indra as it represented nothing short of total genocide. Without beings to monitor, what purpose would the king of gods have anyhow?

  Indra returned to the blue court with a verdict. Hathor would pay for this attempted misdeed and become an example to all, not only fellow gods and Siriusites, but to the ancient peoples of Egypt.

  My stomach felt as if I had fallen down an elevator shaft. No. That wasn’t part of the justice system I was talking about. This was gods sacrificing people to set examples. These examples had never worked; they only enslaved races of people to feed on hate and fear. Indra by killing Hathor in a public display would condemn not only the people in attendance to this kind of abhorrent judicial system but generations afterwards, possibly affecting the present world to adopt such barbaric acts of retribution. I couldn’t allow this. Moments ago I believed justice had died. I had an opportunity to save it even if it meant not saving my own ass.

  I didn’t say anything. I knew Indra was beyond listening. Hathor seemed nonplussed by the outcome. Maybe feeling victorious that her poison had seeped so successfully into the fabric of humanity it might never come out. She might perceive this the ultimate final victory as a being starved for revenge and self-aggrandizement.

  She was given a chance to say a few last words. She made them sting. Hathor addressed me personally, reveling in the fact that my precious spy of a cat was thrown off the ship shortly before landing. “I just couldn’t stand its incessant mewling any longer!” Okay, she just copped to another crime and it made me see red in this blue world. I could very easily find my inner barbarian wrestling for a need to spill blood, even here in this matrix like existence. I felt my body crumpling as Brahms’ did. My precious beloved Bastet, gone… “But what about Bastet, the goddess, is she still with us?” I asked in a whimper.

  Her sneer spoke volumes. “They were one and the same; traitors to the core. They probably would have turned on you in the end. You should be thanking me.”

  “Just like the Entourage is thanking you now, Hathor?” I railed at all of them. “Take a good look at who you allowed to rot your souls. I’m pretty sure Indra will hold you all accountable for this as well.”

  I wasn’t speaking very diplomatically at the moment. I always prepped myself for the day I parted company with my beloved feline. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended! I had no clue as to how I could glue myself back together, in this blue world, or any world for that matter.

  Isis intervened. “Indra will be leaving the court, this world, with Hathor. We have a few minutes of Earth time at best to come up with a plan. Now’s the time for science, magic, anything which will prevent the kind of killing which will only turn the people of Egypt into hate mongers.”

  Brahms finally spoke. “Where did she say this example would take place?”

  “At the eye of the Giza pyramid, it is there she will burn Hathor for all to see.”

  “Will Indra accomplish this via the Fifth Force or something more rudimentary?”

  “Good question, doctor. I suspect something involving the mechanics of the pyramid.”

  “Please explain, Isis.”

  So she did. By the time she finished, Brahms understood. She would be turning the Giza pyramid on, back to an active state. As Isis had once explained, the pyramids were more ancient power plants than pathways for the dead. In the eye of pyramid itself, there is said to be a thirteenth element, phosphorous. It was responsible for spontaneous human combustion, some allege. There was no doubt among us that Indra intended to use this element as an incendiary device. But before he could, he would have to turn the pyramid back on.

  “The eye of the pyramid must be opened, and the bricks of stone which lie separated from one another nearest the capstone, must be interlocked. This will take some time.”

  That time was evaporating as we spoke. Indra already had to be doing his carpet-like ride float with Hathor in tow. Their speed might be balloon-like but Giza wasn’t that far away. We could only count on travel and preparation time.

  Briana inquired if Isis might have any magical devices about her body, the body which lay in a dormant state outside of our blue world. If she did, how would she access it?

  It was a question which ignited the spark in Isis’ mind. She would connect her matter stream with all nine Ennead members. She hoped this connection would allow her to transform into a ben ben bird, a bird often seen in this land. It would not stand out to alarm Indra. But what could it accomplish?

  Isis surmised her transformation to bird would break her tether to the blue realm. Once free, she could access her belt which contained an artifact, a knotted buckle of sorts or a tyet. It was ankh-like in appearance and hung from her belt. Red in color, it was believed to be the blood of Isis. You didn’t have to tell me how powerful that blood must be. I had tapped into it on at least one occasion. I also suspected its properties allowed me to reform the molecular structure of Charlize. Powerful indeed. I guess the easiest way to provide an example of this is Wonder Woman and her lasso. Somehow a knot is magical and can carry power. I didn’t think Brahms would buy into this magical talk but he did.

  “Yes, that’s a brilliant idea. You carry the tyet in your mouth through the pyramid via its shaft. I then suspect you may access the Fifth Force to counter the phosphorous. My recommendation would be to create a deluge of water mixed with bicarbonate. It should work. Well, unless Indra is hearing all this. Then I imagine we’ll all be led one by one to the eye and become toast ourselves.”

  Isis countered that the same shaft she would travel in would incinerate her if the pyramid came to full power. But we all agreed the shaft was the best access point to point her tyet towards the stars. The alignment of the shaft with Sirius allowed a free flow of energy, Fifth Force energy, which would be drawn from the stars as if they were wells. This was all theory. But we were so running out of time.

  “One more thing,” Isis said to me. “You’ve got to be my eyes.”

  She touched my middle forehead. And then I saw. She was free!

  The ben ben was magnificent! Gold, crimson and royal purple adorned its body and wings! It pecked at Isis’ belt for a long moment before untying the tyet. It was time we didn’t have, especially Isis’. The shaft would soon become uninhabitable for any species or god.

  Her heart beat hammered in her chest and I felt a simpatico measure as well. It was pleasant and exhilarating all in a beat of time.

  We flew into the pyramid, via a hole providing underground access. We—the Ennead—Briana, Brahms and me held hands in the blue existence, pleased Isis knew such a direct route.

  But as she scrambled up the shaft, I felt the same trepidation as a child. The shaft, so similar to a chimney, represented a danger to even the most magical beings, that being Santa. Okay. Maybe I still have a functional god center in my brain. I promised to consider belief again if we all survived this.

  My fears were valid. The eye of the p
yramid had been opened by Indra. Smoke, vapor or whatever lethal form phosphorous came in was seeping out slow and deliberate. I recalled Isis’ instructions. The phosphorous would need a spark. The pyramid itself, by the very act of coming to power, would provide that.

  I willed the stones of the capstone to remain parted. I didn’t know if I had any effect. But I would try.

  My senses were aligned with the bird. I could smell the acridity of the shaft. The gas needed flame, needed heat to be effective. I sensed Indra’s anticipation, his glee, as Hathor finally let her stone guard down and screamed for mercy.

  I heard cries of citizens who had gathered around the pyramid. I also sensed Indra appealing to the rays of the sun to alight the pyramid.

  If the sun was the match to the flame, I hoped we could delay it. The Ennead god Re was with us in our circle of hope. If Re could somehow turn down the burn of the rays it would be much appreciated. I could no longer see my compatriots surrounding me in the blue world, my vision totally focused as a bird.

  I attempted to guide Isis in her quest. She was urging the tyet to connect with the dark stream matter of the Fifth Force in desperation, wings fluttering, her body batting against the brick confines of the shaft. I didn’t feel it was working. She needed to be closer somehow. Yet that proximity might come into dangerous vicinity of Indra who floated just above the shaft in alignment with the all-seeing eye of Giza.

  I felt the searing heat on my wings. The fire had been initiated from below. In seconds it might travel up the shaft, burning Isis, then Hathor.

  But what might interrupt Indra? If she couldn’t succeed in dowsing Indra’s thirteenth element, what might prevent that from happening at all?

  It was desperate. It was banal. But it just might work. Forget the Fifth Force. Forget elemental persecution. The ben ben bird already carried a pretty effective weapon in itself.

  I urged Isis with my sight to continue up through the shaft and outside. There, she began pecking at all of Indra’s thousand eyes. The glinting ones on his legs, the sparkly ones on his arms, they all came under the fire of her sharp heron-like beak.

  Indra succumbed to the invasion and dropped his prey. Hathor fell but caught herself. Her hands were fastened to the bricks, the very ones which allowed space for hands. These were the bricks inching closer and closer to the interlock, the phase which would power the pyramid on.

  Isis halted her attack of Indra and refocused. Now she pecked at the eye on the pyramid itself; prompting it, willing it, teasing it to close as Hathor’s margin of error diminished. Close the eye and stop the interlock! I repeated the mantra. Before I could ascertain what happened I found myself thrown from the blue world, my bird’s eye view eviscerated

  Chapter 24

  Resolutions

  I had been unceremoniously dumped on my ass, yet again. I along with the Ennead, Isis back in human form, Briana and Brahms all sat in a circle of sand not very far from the Giza pyramid. The Labyrinth loomed behind us, its steel alloy shell seeming to confirm Giza was the past and the Labyrinth was our present. At least I thought.

  Indra hung before us, four arms folded, a few hundred eyes twitching. I pretended to tend to my smoldered sleeve to avoid eye contact. Let me tell you. It was hard!

  I expected nothing less than death for us all. The insolent galactic-hopping bunch of troublemakers we all were. The pecking had ceased the attack. Indra halted the ignition of the pyramid and had spared Hathor. She was now held in place in the blue world along with the Entourage and Siriusite warriors. Indra readied himself to speak and I shuddered.

  “My curiosity has been piqued. I have seemed to give you the justice you wanted but you rejected it, brazenly and defiantly. Tell me, you in particular, agent of the modern law, just what in the stars do you beings want?”

  I raised my hand although the king of eyes had clearly been addressing his inquiry to me.

  “I know you don’t understand the full scope of our civilization. But when you first encountered this god’s war I assume it was contained in ancient Egypt. Since then, a lot of things have changed. It has only been a speck of time since the Federal Bureau of Investigation was created. But it is my belief that the principles of this Bureau are far-reaching, encompassing to the point where they could regulate a universe, a solar system or even the cosmic highway you appear to collect tolls for.”

  I bowed my head, knowing full well my flippant humor would not bode well for us. I was wrong.

  The being Indra allowed a chuckle. His body jiggled in its own powerful embrace. “I see you view this law system as beneficial for all. That it must be upheld. It’s probably unfortunate you don’t have a god or two assisting you.”

  I dared to wave a dismissive hand while maintaining the most relaxed lotus position I could endeavor on hot, hot sand. “We don’t need gods. I’m sorry. I never believed we did, really. But my friend, the goddess called Isis, has kindled my belief. I do believe a show of faith by both sides goes a long way to a harmonious relationship.”

  Indra continued floating, his four arms crossed. “Explain.”

  “Concessions are necessary. Not all of the populace can believe the intangible. But even the smallest gesture can carry for miles. I think the gods who are here should keep a presence. Because if they leave us, we will have no choice but to coin fancy departmental acronyms and behave as if we dangle from the highest rung of evolution’s ladder.”

  “And you propose?” Indra asked.

  “You incarcerate Hathor within the confines of this magnificent construct called the Labyrinth. It can rehabilitate her. It can provide humane treatment. It could stop people from taking the law into their own hands.”

  “But there’s something else we need to do,” Isis intervened. “We need to give the Labyrinth back to the Siriusites. It’s why they are here to stop their brothers and sisters from spreading its knowledge throughout the universe. We have to respect that. I see our arrogance has cost us greatly. Let’s make a deal with the Siriusites, allow them to take back their property. I know Bast acted out of great love to hide the construct, but it didn’t solve the problem. We are in caught in a loop of time which might repeat again if we’re not careful. The Labyrinth must be returned.”

  “I will need to inspect this structure,” Indra maintained. “I propose the beings you call the Entourage should also be rehabilitated here. But where does that leave the Ennead themselves?”

  “I propose we stay here and continue our penance so that one day we might be worthy of the golden means spiral, the perfect place in the universe where everything is harmonious all of the time, in geometric synchronicity.”

  “And the human beings, where is their place?”

  “We send them back to their previous existence.”

  I digested what Isis had proposed. Returning the Labyrinth might indeed end the conflict once and for all. Yet inside this maze of wonder, were books of knowledge, the type of knowledge humankind required to live a peaceful, sustainable life. If we agreed to this, would we be burying the real history of this time in sand once again?

  Isis and I talked as Indra inspected the floating pyramid. “The Book of Thoth, all those secrets, all that history would be lost to humanity once again. Is this a price we can pay?” I asked the goddess.

  “We, the Ennead, will remain here to teach humanity, to keep the history alive. It will be our purpose—to sustain. That river of sustainability should flow for generations and eventually this stream will cross yours, in the future.”

  I joined hands with Isis, Brahms and Briana. “Yes, I suppose it’s the best choice of all possibilities. Let’s hope Indra will concur.” Brahms reminded me no matter what course we did choose, we’d already irrevocably altered both past and present timelines. There would be consequences for all our actions.

  Indra returned with a condition. “I see the Labyrinth is organic in most part. It is alive. I do not find its origins to be of the Sirius solar system. I can allow its return to the Siriusite
s under the condition it has a mediator on board, a caretaker. I have inspected the blue world of the Labyrinth. It contains some recent and fascinating interactions. The being you call Brahms must be this caretaker. I will agree to the proposal if this being is amenable.”

  Brahms raised a hand. “Why do you find me suitable?”

  Indra raised an eyebrow. “I like the way you think.”

  “Why yes. Of course, I’ll take the job. As you are the supervisor of the Hadronic Unified Field, how could I refuse to become your subordinate?”

  I wondered half-aloud what Brahms had just said. Briana nudged me. “It means Indra is in charge of the field of oneness, all our consciousness which is behind all the matter of our worlds. It is a very powerful position, one an eager, career-minded scientist could not dare to pass on”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“even if he tried.” I suspected Brahms had heard her. It was the first smile I’d seen on Brahms face in a long while. It softened a very hard day along with the setting of the sun.

  * * * *

  In the shadows we conversed, huge black forms danced among the dunes as we walked, talked, anticipated and planned a past, present and future.

  There was so much to plan. What would be directive upon my return? I would need to divulge my real identity, for one. I would hope—Brahms scolded me for overusing the “H” word—the altered world I found would understand and allow me to continue my purpose. I also hoped the demons would be back along with President Eva Fleming. I dared to hope for a lot of things in those seconds. Maybe I should have dared to hope for more…

  The black silhouette of a tail, preening about the dunes was a dead giveaway. We shuffled to our feet and ran toward the shadow. When we arrived, there was not one arrival but three.