The assassin had felt great joy then, standing with his peers, crying into the sky. “Moloch is great! Moloch is great!”
The Charun had to be stopped. Now.
Finally, the transport arrived. It was a nondescript cargo boat, spacious enough to accommodate a Geyrun and several Daityas, but not so large as to attract the attention of the inhabitants of the temple rock when it arrived. They wanted to get in, make their demand, and leave.
“Answer me this,” the Daityas captain said as the ship lumbered over the wall. “Why are you so sure they'll give this Charun up?”
“I'm not sure,” Ko said. “In fact, I don't expect them to give her up at all. If they refuse, we'll leave peacefully. I want your presence. But no bloodshed. Absolutely none.”
“Why, then? Why risk something that can cause friction between the nations? We already have the damn Overseers threatening to pull out over this flap with your boss.”
“He's your boss too, and the political ramifications are not a concern of someone of your rank.”
“There have been rumors lately,” the captain said. “The Dahhak are angry with something. Their temples have taken a few recent beatings. They've vowed to defend them. The soldiers know this. They're nervous.”
“They're your soldiers, Captain. I want no fighting.”
“They will defend themselves if they're attacked.”
“They won't be.”
Maybe it was too late. Maybe the seeds of revolution had already grown roots. If that was the case, and by some bizarre chance they did give up the Charun, then arresting Ungeo could easily backfire. But Ko was prepared for that. The Wuj could interrogate the Charun, and all the major players in this insipid mutiny would be identified, and the council would be forced to react without the customary waiting periods and paperwork and national approval that could sometimes take a whole cycle.
Once Uzkiev learned of this, Ko would be executed. Of that there was no doubt. The Nidhogg did not accept disobedience. Ko was prepared for it. He had already filed the necessary paperwork. He had withdrawn all of his available wages and sent them back to his world. He left instructions with the great financial institution of the Overseers that dealt with probative issues.
Upon his death, his estate would be used to purchase the freedom of Booja and Qulp. Hopefully there would be a little money left over for Booja and Qulp to purchase their own tract of land. The thought of his son wearing the gold badge of freedom was enough to make all this worthwhile.
If the Molochites did what Ko suspected they would, which was refuse to surrender the Charun despite the arrest order signed first by the late Overseer, then again by Uzkiev, then the sector commander would be forced into reacting. Uzkiev was in a precarious position. If it became known that the Dahhak were flagrantly disobeying his orders, the Overseers protesting his command would pounce all over it.
Even after Ko was executed, the Dahhak insurrection would have to be severely and immediately dealt with because it would be all out in the open. Ko couldn't think of another possible reaction. And while he had learned he was very poor in the ways of deceit and espionage, he was very good in predicting the reactions of his superiors. It was why he was still alive. This was going to work.
“We're coming up,” the pilot, a Shishi, reported over the loudspeaker. Ko watched out the window as they came to the docking area of the giant, turnip-shaped building. The temple was awe-inspiring in its simple beauty. While he detested what the Dahhak were trying to do, he couldn't help but feel the power of their faith while in the shadow of such a magnificent monument. They said these temples were minor compared to the ones on their homeworld.
Behind him, he listened to the uneasy whispers of the Footie soldiers. “Their priests flay your skin for looking at them funny,” a Marid said.
No, Ko thought sadly, if the Dahhak were planning on converting the whole Dominion, then they were terribly mistaken.
The ship landed smoothly just inside the bay, located on the underside of the massive bulb. Symbols lined the walls of the cavernous, open room. Several leathers were strung about. A few of them easily identifiable as Geyrun.
They were expected. A rector stood at the end of the docking bay dressed in full crimson regalia, flanked by several acolytes outfitted in their simple yellow robes. They were positioned before the archway that represented the entrance to their temple.
“Let me do the talking,” Ko said to the captain. “Just stand behind me and look dangerous.”
The captain said nothing, just motioned a few commands. Ko stepped down the ramp and walked casually to the rector, the soldiers marching behind. He had seen this done several times. He could do it.
Ko tried to sound as formal as possible, and he tried his best not to allow his voice to crack. “We have a signed order for the arrest of one Charun, Ungeo G'sslom, Mid-Commander in the Dominion military, for the crime of misrepresentation to a superior officer, gross misconduct of duty, and abandonment of her post.” Attempted murder should've been on there as well, but he hadn't gotten the warrant updated. “Furthermore, we have compelling evidence that the Charun in question has taken up residence in this very temple.”
The rector didn't speak for some time. An acolyte coughed, and a soldier directly behind him jerked in response. Easy. Easy.
“Hypothetically,” the rector said, “if this Charun were here, then she would be our guest. Our tradition dictates that those deemed worthy and blessed with sanctuary are to be left unmolested by agents not of the church. These rules were accepted and ratified by the Dominion.”
Ko was prepared for this. “Dominion law clearly states that grave security matters override national agreements at the sector commander's discretion. Those who wish to appeal must do so before the council.”
The rector stood there calmly, not saying anything.
“Are you denying this Charun is present on these grounds?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny this.”
“Which I'll accept as a confirmation.”
“You can accept it however you please, infidel,” the rector said. “Unless you plan on forcing your way into our holy place, you must leave.”
Behind him, the soldiers shifted nervously. The acolytes looked defiant, but wary. None of them were armed. It was going exactly how Ko had planned.
“You're turning us away even though we have a direct order for the Charun's arrest?”
“Our temple is always open to those who have interest in our faith. We turn no one away with genuine spiritual need. I invite any of you to return once you're given leave. In the end, it will be us standing over those who don't come to Moloch.”
It wasn't a direct answer, but it would do. The air crackled with tension, but Ko felt strangely at ease. It was going to work. “We will leave then. But this is not the end.”
He turned to leave.
Later, reflecting over what happened next, Ko would decide that choosing soldiers who knew nothing about Molochism was a dreadful mistake.
The rector reached into his robes and began to pull something out. Ko knew what the caduceus was. Just a hollowed wooden stick that rectors waved around pompously whenever someone left their presence. He had seen them use it hundreds of times during meetings with the Overseer.
But these soldiers were nervous. Terribly so, and the rector was pulling something from his robes.
Just a single burst from a Marid, but it was enough. The shot was a little off. It took off the rector's arm at the elbow and ripped through the wing folded on his back.
Ko stood there, looking at the Marid stupidly for a few seconds while no one moved. The rector dropped to his knees, blood spilling from his arm, the caduceus rolling away, trailing dust. The wing was bent badly, a savage hole in it.
The acolytes yelled for help with voices that echoed strangely, two of them dragging the rector away. The smell of burned flesh was heavy in the bay.
“Unless we're going to fight our way to the Charun, perhaps we s
hould leave,” the captain said. “Immediately.”
Ko barely heard him. The blood trail led through the archway and into the temple. The rector's arm was still there. His caduceus was, too. Dahhak emerged from all around him, exits he hadn't noticed before. They were armed with long sticks, and their curious glares all turned to anger upon the sight of the blood.
No bloodshed. That's all he had wanted. Ko had pictured himself doing a great injury to the Charun, but that was just fantasy. He'd never really hurt anyone willingly. Geyrun were a peaceful race. This was terrible. He could hear it now. Dominion comes to arrest the Molochites’ new favorite orator and wings the rector when he refuses to comply. Their ranks of dissidents were going to swell. And it was his fault.
I should stay, Ko thought. Let the Dahhak exact their punishment. He thought of Qulp, then. If he could see him now, he'd ask him for forgiveness. Even fathers make mistakes, he'd say.
The Daityas grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him toward the ship. The others ran, all berating their fellow soldier who kept saying, “I thought he was pulling something.” Over and over.
During the frantic ride back to the base, their anger toward their fellow quickly evolved to an anger toward Ko. “We should've been told what to expect,” they groused.
Ko looked out the window. The city soared by. Cibola was beautiful to him once. Now all he saw was the destruction they caused. He understood why the angels wanted it all to themselves. Why they tried to kill the demons. It was to keep them away.
By Jehu, he thought. What have I done?
* * * *
Zev awakened with the sound of the gunshot still echoing. He jumped to his feet, sniffing the air. He shuffled forward, his front paws scratching at the ground. Ahead, the small animal hiding loosed its bowels, identifying it as a chider, a creature with tough meat that filled the forest with its annoying high-pitched squeal. They tasted terrible.
The wolf leapt forward, wanting to get a quick taste of the hunt. It had been so long. The threat of foul-tasting meat was not enough to quell the sudden burning need. The animal burst from the underbrush and tried to hop away, and he nipped it out of the air. A quick snap of the neck silenced it forever. The dead body thrashed as he swallowed it whole.
The blood dripping from his maw, Zev threw his head back and howled.
A new urge stirred within. Again, he sniffed the air carefully. Again he found what he sought. This time when he howled into the wind, it was answered several times over. Though not as many as he had expected. Nonetheless, one howl caught his attention, the highest in the wind. An old friend, a terrible enemy.
Later, Dave awakened again, cold and naked on a rock. His head ached, and he was covered with blood.
He jumped to his feet, looking at his bloodied hands in amazement.
He had made it. He was back outside of Cibola. He was on the far side, in the never-ending forest that took up the north region of the angel metropolis. At least he hoped he was. There was no beacon in sight. The trees here were still huge, but more of a normal proportion. They were just as dense, and it smelled just as dark and foreboding. Even the bugs seemed ominous in their loud, grating buzz.
The raw taste of chider still enveloped his mouth. His crotch ached from the recent mating. The nails on his hands throbbed.
But Dave had dreamt all that. Of finding the other wolf in the shadows. Of mounting her, howling.
No, he had told his mother. They were never just dreams.
Dave became aware of another presence sitting nearby. He turned and jumped, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to run, but frozen at the same time.
Sitting before him was the living torment of his nights. The very reason he lived in terror his entire life, always afraid to sleep. Living, breathing darkness in the form of a giant wolf.
Vila was her name.
“Your human form returns,” she said. Each of her forward fangs were as long as his arm.
“Am I dreaming again, or is this finally real?” he asked.
She cocked her head. “As does your human memory. Do you not recall what we just shared?”
Dave took a deep breath. He just wanted to bolt. But she would catch him. She always did.
“I remember ... some of what just happened. But ... no. I don't.”
Vila snorted. “I will tell you then.” She strolled around him, her enormous nostrils sniffing. “Between the light and the darkness are the shadows that make our world. Together, we ruled the forest. But neither of us were satisfied with just this place. When the angels created the humans, we traveled to one of their worlds. There, we became gods. Humans worshipped us. Sacrificed for us. Fought wars in our names.”
Her very presence was a terror like he had never known. Frozen, he listened.
“Others found the human planets and took up residence, establishing themselves as deities. Banished angels, demons, more of our kind. They bent nations to their will, used the people as their playthings. You reveled in it, as did I.
“Then He exerted His control over the worlds, one by one until almost all the false gods were gone. We returned here, to the hunting grounds of old. But you had changed.
“You wanted nothing more than to return to the human world. You somehow found a way of forever casting away your skin and mind, of being born innocent into the world of humans. So deep was your obsession, you did this freely, knowing the likely result would be an infinitely short life followed by an eternity of servitude.”
The wolf's voice took on an odd feeling of hurt. Somehow it made her as menacing as ever. “You left me alone. But I found what you could not. A way to wield power from here, influence. We still have servants on your precious planet. Through the crows, I entered your sleep. Through the wolves, especially your companion, I watched you by day.”
Dave found the strength to speak. “I ... I don't remember any of this. How could it be true?”
“Of course you do not remember. You are not Zev. Just his shell. You're not of the same mind.”
“But, but ... If I'm not the same, why do that to me?”
“In the end, you may not be him. But he is in you, and your pain is his.” She continued to pace, her feet crunching in the underbrush. The feeling of helplessness was compounded by his nakedness. “If I could, I'd forever keep you trapped in your human sleep. I'd consume your unending dream flesh, never ceasing your anguish.”
“Then why did you have me killed?”
She stopped. “I did not administer your human passing. In truth, I lost control of the human world once again. I thought I had lost you forever, but soon afterwards I found I could find your mind again while you slept. Because you were here.”
There was so much to contemplate, and he didn't even know where to begin. If she was telling the truth—and somehow he sensed that she was—why did Carumba attack him? Perhaps Vila lost control of Carumba while they were on the lake. Maybe his dog didn't know who Dave was anymore, and attacked the stranger on the ice. Maybe.
“Wait a second,” he blurted. “Before I woke, how was I a wolf like you then?”
Vila smiled, then. A wolf smile of gleaming fangs and death.
“Do you not remember? The dialogue we had before Zev fell to his sleep and lost control to your form?”
“No.”
“He believes he knows a way back. To be Zev again forever. What you just experienced was but a temporary transference. Soon, though, he will be returned.”
Dave felt sick.
Vila continued. “He was weak, but he forced the change upon you while you were incapacitated with your beacon travel. Through the hunt he gained enough strength for one last push, one chance to reclaim his soul.”
Dave felt himself backing up, just like he did in his dreams. She kept pace with him. Her breath burned his skin. “I thought you hated him now,” he said, desperately.
“We are to be together again. I wish it.”
“But what happens to me?”
“You die.”
<
br /> “I ... just don't understand.” He backed into a tree.
“That is not a concern. His, your, seed has taken hold in my belly. Already I can feel it. When the pups are born, the strongest will be chosen to take Zev within.”
He wanted to run, but he couldn't. The thought of her claws digging into his back, of her flipping him over, devouring him, it was too much.
“Do not flee, boy. There is no need. For the moment, you live.”
He sank to the ground, but he felt no relief.
“Zev knows of your reason to be here,” Vila continued. “And there is great urgency in your task. While we are no friends of angels, the demons hunt our kind and our game, killing indiscriminately. I will help you complete what you started.”
“And ... and after?”
“We remain together until it is time for me to bear my litter. I will allow the strongest pup to devour you, then all will be as it should.”
* * * *
Weaponless and without suitable armor, Levi crawled. He dared not stand or fly for flight after flight of the demons above came and went to the floating temple. He was drained, and every inch of his body felt trampled upon.
Much time passed. Each moment was another grasp of dirt in front of him, every black shape in the sky possibly the one that would bring him his final sleep. It became his very existence, the only thing he knew. Each inch forward was penance for every wrong he had made. For each angel who had died under his leadership or at the helm of one of his machines.
He crawled. He crawled and crawled.
Much later, an ominous shape finally loomed in the distance, sprouting from the grass like a glacier grasping for the sky. A Foray. It was still in one piece, but the front end was dug into the dirt. The cockpit was black, like the insides had caught fire.
It looked like it had been swatted out of the sky.
“You and me both,” Levi said to the machine. He ran his hand across the smooth metal once he finally reached it. He found the serial number. REV21:1. One of the earliest models. An officer's plane. A flight leader. He'd likely met the pilot, even trained him. He was dead now. His fingers found the emergency release button on the side, and the cockpit slid open, the metal protesting. A breeze whipped past him, picking the sand and soot out of the melted seat and whisking it away.
The Shivered Sky Page 36
