“Hush,” Tamael said. She ordered the angels from the hole. They reluctantly shuffled out, leaving the three alone. “Perhaps I was wrong about you,” Tamael said.
Indigo laughed. It was bitter and hollow sounding. “You threaten with one breath and apologize with the next. Nothing you say can take away what you did.”
“It was my right. You abandoned us to die.” Tamael crossed her arms. With her companions gone, a few tendrils of her folded wings wafted out, filling her side of the room. “I have not apologized for anything. Your scars name you betrayer, and you deserve every splinter of pain for it.”
“What do you want from us?” Hitomi asked, speaking for the first time.
Their eyes met. They held each other, but the red-haired angel broke the stare first. She's scared.
“Originally, I planned on attacking Cibola, perhaps taking out a few high-ranking commanders. But it was death, certainly.” She ran a hand against the smooth wall. “We would finally be with our brothers and sisters.
“There is reason to believe we may not be the only angels remaining. We always assumed it would be impossible to attain the far reaches of the city and locate our brethren. But with you ... I hadn't understood the true power of what you possess until I actually saw it in use.” She sighed heavily. “The Hashmallim knew. Yehppael knew. But I didn't see it. Not really. You are our only hope.”
“They were caught off guard last time. Next time they'll be ready for Hitomi's light,” Indigo said.
“That's why we must act fast.”
* * * *
Ko wiped a droplet of sweat from his forehead. The room sweltered. Every grande-commander under the Overseer's authority was present, with the exception of the Dahhak Grande-Commander Pooljab, who was standing watch at headquarters. The too-cramped hall buzzed with talk. The previous use of this building was unknown, but the temperature inside was much higher than out in the street, making Ko think perhaps it was once a sauna. Sweat gushed from the pores of the Overseer next to him, forming into puddles on the ground. The giant military commander grumbled impatiently as assistants scrambled to mop it up. If we have to stay here much longer, they might have to hook him up like one of those Nemat worms.
The Geyrun was the second biggest demon in the room, but if the Overseer fainted of heat exhaustion, he'd surely be crushed to death. He unsuccessfully tried to hold back a nervous titter. There were methods of stopping the ticks that were common of the Geyrun race, but Ko refused to take them. They clouded the mind, and if he had any hope of surviving this war, he had to keep his wits about him. The Overseer's last three assistants all met an unfortunate demise. He wasn't about to allow that to happen again. Not to him.
He rubbed a hand against the gold badge attached to his belt. He wasn't a slave anymore, not when his commission was through. After the war, he would go home and purchase Booja from the Overseer who owned her. And her child, Qulp. He had sired the boy himself.
Through the triangular window, Ko watched a trio of the Overseer's Dahhak litter bearers copulate in the street with an equal number of the blue-skinned Sedim. As the Dahhak thrust themselves against the plump demons, a tail from one of the Sedim reached out behind her unsuspecting lover and deftly popped open the sack swinging behind his hauberk. The end of the tail was like a mouth, and it purloined several coins, likely the soldier's personal fortune. The whole time she moaned like a cow in heat, her heavy breasts leaking the black milk.
The Geyrun giggled. The Sedim would be in the maternity camps by the time the soldier realized his money was gone. Such was the way of their new life. They really were becoming a community of sorts. Their bond was this war. And when the angels were wiped out, the war would end. Would they be able to keep together? He desperately hoped so.
His race was dying. The Geyrun were once a proud people. Their rich world had been overtaken by the larger arch-demons long ago, in a time when they actually fought their own battles. Now, the Geyrun were nothing more than servants to the Overseers. But it was different here. Some Geyrun had their own commands. Some were soldiers. Some merchants. Most were still used as Handlers, but they were paid a wage, and they were freed once their duty was fulfilled. They could walk the streets of the city and tower over the other demons, instead of being towered over themselves.
“Ko,” the Overseer boomed. “Where is my Charun? I'm going to drown before that fowl gets here.”
Ko winced. He should've brought along more slaves for the Overseer's pleasure. He had sent a squad to escort the Charun from her post to the meeting, but something must've happened. Perhaps she realized the Overseer would summon her. And that summons could only have one result. Still, it was strange for a Charun to do something as rash as abandon her duty.
He stepped away from the table. Unlike the enormous Overseer, who had to be carried everywhere in a litter, he maintained use of his lower legs.
Uzkiev, the council envoy, watched him through his slitted, suspicious eyes. His barbed tongue flitted out. The quiet, reptilian Nidhogg always made Ko ill at ease.
Roosted upon the Nidhogg's triangular shoulder blades, his red-eyed Mite assistant buzzed. The tiny creature was constantly moving, shuffling papers about during the meetings, flying away on some unknown errand, whispering into the envoy's ear. The assistant made Ko just as uneasy as Uzkiev.
After all the recent fighting, Uzkiev would be seen much more. That was not a good thing.
Ko moved as far away from the table as his bulk would allow. The radio was tiny and almost unmanageable in his hand. Several had been manufactured larger for the Overseers, but Ko was never able to get one for personal use. He'd become practiced with the smaller unit, but it was still difficult to tune into the correct channel. Especially with an irate Overseer towering over him, screaming for results.
“Where is the Charun?” Ko demanded when the band crackled to life.
Several moments passed. Ko covered his mouth to conceal a giggle. Behind him, the commanders discussed problems with the supply of sustenance and the ever-increasing attacks against human slaves by Broken Fist, a secretive group attempting to exterminate them all. None of the commanders broached the subject of the recent defeats. Though the air was thick with the tension. Uzkiev's Mite shooed the Overseer's attendants out. They wouldn't be allowed to listen in on the meeting. The Mite didn't return either.
“She has abandoned her post,” the communicator boomed, loud enough so everyone in the room could hear. It was suddenly dead quiet behind him. He fumbled to lower the volume, but his fat fingers couldn't quite get it to work right. “We've checked her quarters, and she is not there. Nor is she at the Charun dining roost.”
“Very well,” Ko said. “Keep looking.”
Ko slinked back to his seat the best he could. All eyes were on him. He giggled nervously. “It appears the Charun won't be joining us,” he said.
Ko watched as the Overseer gazed angrily across the table. They all sat in fear of the Overseer. All except Uzkiev. His tongue flipped in and out casually, and he bobbed slightly on his coiled body, completely at ease. The others were all stiff with attention. The Overseer could unmake a commander's rank or even his life with the wave of a hand.
His glare stopped at an uncomfortable-looking Charun grande-commander, Yvrex G'ssod. She clicked her beak at the arch-demon's scrutiny.
“You are the commanding officer of this missing Charun, are you not?”
“Yes, my lord.”
He leaned forward, and his massive, custom-built chair creaked ominously. “If she does not turn up, I will hold you personally responsible. Understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The Overseer snorted. He mumbled something incoherent then turned to a demon sitting near the end of the table. His name was Grande-Commander Lothe, and he was fat for a Dahhak, and especially old. The second of only two Dahhak grande-commanders in this sector, his long, gray hair cascaded down his back in braids wrapped in blood-soaked ribbon, a sign of his Molochism. Folds o
f his girth spread from the sides of his breastplate like an over-stuffed sausage. But his eyes burned with fierce intelligence, and he was not a soldier to be easily dismissed. A foolish Dahhak simply didn't live long enough to rise to Lothe's high position.
“Tell me more about this attack on your temple.”
Lothe folded his fingers together on the table. “A wing of heavily-armed angels somehow managed to camouflage themselves long enough to conduct a raid on the Temple. Two or more angels succeeded in breaching the temple itself, and they murdered the rector before they were killed as they fled.”
“Your casualties were miserably high. I want your defense procedures reviewed immediately,” the Overseer said. “I also understand once the angels entered your temple, they weren't pursued.”
The Dahhak inclined his head. “Bloodshed in the temple is forbidden unless it is bled in adherence to a sacrament. Soldiers will not follow an enemy into a temple.”
“That rule is unacceptable,” the Overseer snapped.
Uzkiev floated from his seat, his snake body uncoiling from the chair like a black length of chain. “Ahh ... This debate is a matter for the council,” he hissed.
“Very well,” the Overseer said. Underneath, Ko could sense he was seething. “Now let us discuss a more important matter. The failed attack on the angel base.”
Uzkiev rose again. “Ahh ...I wouldn't consider it a defeat, ahh. Your attack plan worked flawlessly, and their base was utterly destroyed, ahh. At this moment, a team of Flamen are dissecting this base, which appears to have been quite extensive.”
The Overseer grumbled. “We lost almost two thirds of our attacking force. Two Burrowers died due to handler incompetence and one got away.”
The snake hissed and rose some more, high enough to be eye level with the Overseer. Ko noted he buzzed back some too, just out of reach of the arch-demon's long grasp. “When you were given control of the gate sector, it was your duty to also maintain and protect the peninsula's forest. The fact such a base was allowed to thrive should be of more concern, ahh. Do you not think?”
“No I don't think,” the Overseer snapped angrily. “We were aware of angel activity, but it was limited to attacks on our radio frequencies. Just like many of the other inactive sectors. And I do not benefit from being questioned by someone of lower rank.”
“Ahh ... my apologies if I have ... offended. But you know well that you are not my commanding officer. I understand you had intelligence regarding these weapons, the so-called periscepters, prior to the attack. Is this accurate, ahh?”
“It was not deemed reliable,” the Overseer said. “It is a moot point now.”
“Ahh, that is true. Now we must decide how to obtain these little lights so you may collect your just reward, am I not wrong?” The Nidhogg wrung his hands together.
The Overseer bristled. “We need to discuss our plans on rear defense.”
Uzkiev nodded. “Yesss, ahh. The council has decided to grant your request for more help in this sector.”
The Overseer grunted. “It's about time. I've sent too many requests for additional troops, and it takes a mass slaughter to ... to...” He coughed. “To...”
Uzkiev turned his gaze to Ko. “Ahh, I suggest you move.”
Ko didn't understand what was happening. The Overseer's eyes rolled into the back of his head, his massive tongue thrashing about like a weasel in his throat.
“Truly, the need for you to move is very great.”
He's about to fall on me. Ko jumped from his seat just a moment before the dying Overseer crashed down like a thick wall. His corpulent form caught the end of the table, and the whole thing rose on the other end, sending bewildered grande-commanders and papers scattering. He slid off like an overcooked mound of bone gelatin, and the table crashed down, sending an angry crack through it. The stench of death assaulted the room.
No one moved or said a word.
Uzkiev floated above the fallen Overseer. The gentle buzz of his wings was loud in the utter silence. “The council has deemed I shall rule in our fallen comrade's stead.”
Several gasps filled the room.
Sectors were not ruled by species other than the Overseers. Of all the rules and laws set forth by the tenuous alliance of the ruling council, this rule was pure and absolute. It was the Overseers’ only stipulation in their clan joining the Dominion.
The other Overseers would not take this lightly. Not at all.
The commanders in the room all stood or floated, mouths, jaws, beaks agape. Uzkiev's Mite assistant was again on his shoulder, but Ko hadn't seen it reenter the room. Then he noticed the tiny dirk the assistant had slung through his belt. It dripped, whether with poison or blood he did not know, most likely both.
“Times are changing, yesss.” Uzkiev said. “All of the Overseer's previous orders stand unless specifically rescinded. Now leave this place, yesss. All of you. Inform your subordinates of the change of command.”
Ko had never seen a meeting clear out so fast. He was caught in a moment of indecision. What now? His post was by the Lord Commander's side. But Uzkiev already had a personal assistant, and as a Geyrun, he was trained either to handle beasts or assist to an Overseer's personal needs. If he was useless, perhaps his fate would be that of the Overseer's. He giggled nervously.
“Ahh, do not worry,” Uzkiev said. His Mite buzzed off outside. “I have much use for a faithful assistant. You will remain faithful, yesss?”
“Of course,” he said immediately.
The Nidhogg nodded his flat head. His forked tongue flitted out. “Good. First, arrange for the disposal of this fat bastard. But ice pack the brain. We shall see if he had thoughts that ever went beyond his personal slave lust, yesss.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Ahh, and make certain this missing Charun is found, yesss.”
* * * *
An uneasy silence clung to the massive walkways of Cibola. Every step echoed like pans crashing together. Once, they saw a dark form flying overhead, but it didn't notice or care for the two humans briskly walking down the side of the street.
Gramm shivered. He felt like a rabbit about to stroll by a pack of hungry dogs. But he was also awed by his surroundings. It took everything he had not to look up and gape at the buildings towering above him, sheer cliffs of metal and stone. The buildings were much like the skyscrapers of earth, with normal-sized doors and windows, anchoring the image into reality, which only added to their massiveness. He wondered if there were people hiding within, staring down at the two humans walking alone through the street.
In his dreams, it had been difficult to judge the size of the skyscrapers. He knew that they were big, but not so much so. The cobblestone streets were wide, but the claustrophobic feeling was still there. What looked like a tank was crashed into the entrance of one building, but other than that, it looked as if the whole area had been cleaned of the debris that was common outside the gates. But there were still several shattered windows here and there, and the street stones were marred in several places where battle had scarred them permanently.
This neighborhood was remarkably beautiful. Down the center of the street was a running garden that had become overgrown with purple and yellow teacup flowers. Bushes that might've been carved into shapes were now nothing more than wild and untamed. Bugs flitted from flower to flower, oblivious of the world around them.
A huge flight of demons passed overhead, so many it made the sky seem blacker than it was. They were the scorpion demons, like the ones that had attacked the angel base. Gramm's heart crawled up to his throat, but the devils paid them no heed.
The bulge of the periscepter at his side, under the cloak, did little to ease the tension. Especially since he still couldn't use it.
Sweat beaded down Dave's temple by the time they reached the next intersection. The flights overhead were becoming frequent. Gramm tried not to look up, but sometimes he couldn't help it. Once a vulture-demon screeched at them from above, and he almost b
roke out in a run. They turned.
The Spire of Jhunayn towered in the distance. This street seemed to end at or near it. The Spire had a colorful dome and a point, like the Taj Mahal. But bigger. The point thrust high into the haze, striped green and white like a mint candy cane.
But what caught their attention was not the Spire. It was what stood between them and their destination.
“Shit,” Dave said, stopping dead. “Fuck.”
A marketplace or festival stood between them and the Spire. It crawled with demons. Thousands of them, of all shapes and sizes. The sky above the area was thick with them as well. It was terrifying. A scene out of a nightmare.
“Do you think they can smell fear? Like dogs do?” Dave asked. He pulled his cloak tightly around his broad shoulders.
Sanctuary
Ungeo G'sslom watched as the pair of Wuj left her quarters. She was concealed by the corner of a neighboring building, and through the glass windows she watched in disbelief as the agents of the Catechist stormed her home. Everyone in the immediate area took a sudden interest in the raid, and a distressingly numerous group had formed outside her apartment, hovering just high enough so they wouldn't miss any of the sordid details. Catechist activity was extremely rare in this sector, and when it did occur, it was talked about in the markets for a long, long time.
And much to Ungeo's dismay, it wasn't just one Wuj agent and his cadre of assistants. There were two of them. It was unheard of.
Though the monstrous, floating dragon heads didn't work exclusively for the Catechist (like the Overseers were exclusively the sector military leaders), it was a profession they were prone to. And while there were almost certainly races other than Wuj working as agents, Ungeo couldn't recall ever seeing one.
Behind the two demons, a swarm of Mites followed out the round hole where her door once was, carrying all manner of her private property. Papers. A bone pick she was fond of. Jars of flesh spice.
She fumed with a rage she had never known. How dare they? Her quarters. Her private sanctuary. This was not acceptable. It was a good thing she hadn't been home at the time, or they would likely have taken her into custody. Her! Taken away like a criminal.
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