The Shivered Sky

by Matt Dinniman

  Many of the people helped now. The other half just stood there stupidly or lay on the ground. None were clutching their ears anymore. The distant cry had ceased. Word spread quickly amongst the angels, even restrained like this. Surely the other guards in different areas would take immediate notice and come.

  “We have to get out of here,” Rico said again.

  Another voice roared. It wasn't through the loudspeaker, but the radio on his belt, the receiver still in his ear. “Rico, I don't know where you are, but return here immediately.” It was Moloch. He sounded mad.

  He ran up to Gramm and handed him the periscepter. “I'll be right back. If you come under fire, take Hitomi and come back to Moloch's.” Before Gramm could ask, Rico teleported himself away.

  * * * *

  Ungeo cursed herself for not bringing a radio. She had no idea what was happening, and she couldn't bear to wait any longer. All around raged the sounds and smells of war, and she hid in this empty building like a coward. She had been instructed by the prelate to stay unseen during the fighting. They wanted her alive. It was through her they hoped to bring the Charun in, she surmised. And she had also found herself thrown into the position of Molochite ambassador to the Overseer world.

  She had been the one to approach the Overseer envoy with the seal of peace and substantial tithe offering. He had brought Ungeo to a meeting of several Overseers in a northern sector, and they discussed what she and the Molochites had offered. When she mentioned offhandedly her suspicions that the council planned on destroying the Sphere, the giant demons joined up immediately.

  They only had two provisions, both of which had been predicted by the prelate. Ungeo allowed them both. First, the entire Tower sector, the one just north of the gate sector, was to be given to them afterwards. Secondly, one of the slave farms had to be handed over as well.

  The last would make some angry, especially the Shishi Slavers Guild, but under Moloch rule that would only be one of many new worries. The slave ranches were deeply-built pits behind the few remaining beacons that were still active. With an adjustment, humans from many worlds flocked to these, causing the platform to be constantly overwhelmed, and they were herded into the pits for processing. Ungeo had visited one once, and it was very poorly run. When the workers fell behind, which was often, the humans began to literally pile up, causing many of them to be wasted. The males were evaluated and separated based on abilities; the women were used mostly for food or thrown into the pool of domestic slaves. The children were set aside for the huge Overseer trade, sent to the tanners, or sold for veal.

  Thinking of the markets made Ungeo think of male Charun. Some left her world to work as freelance ether navigators or transport pilots. But an even greater number received a stipend and safe place to live from the Slavers Guild. The male vulture demons combed the lowest levels of the ether, just above the great devouring darkness, finding the remnants of humans who didn't make the beacon or land on a demon world, and pulling them back up to one of the random light wisps.

  Would she ever mate? Joining the military, Ungeo never believed such a path was for her. But now she wasn't so sure. She would be an excellent mother. She could fly into the ether herself and find the strongest male, seduce him, and once he was filled with the mating frenzy, force him to return to their world. She would save his flesh for her chicks, all of whom would grow with Charun pride and Moloch, and they would lead the next generation to an existence of peace and prosperity for all.

  But those things would come in time, and only if she survived. Ungeo had no such illusions about her future, even if she hid away like a coward.

  A pair of thunderous detonations drove her back to the rain-soaked window. Too close. At first she saw nothing, then a group of about 100 Dahhak hurried through, returning fire at the force behind them.

  They were in retreat. She clicked her beak in anger. There was no retreat here. Fire streaked by from the direction of their unseen assailants, incinerating the abandoned store booths despite the rain. The windows on the lower floors of the building shattered. The glass showered to the street below. The fleeing Dahhak likely cremated.

  She peered low out the window. She didn't have to wait long.

  Angels!

  Several wings of them! She wouldn't have been more surprised if it was the serpent Gollop slithering along the street. She sunk below sight. Angels? What were they doing here so deep in the city? For a group to get here would require a great push. Had they taken out the Dahhak at the council? How many more were there?

  What was she going to do? This could be disastrous. If the angels had somehow been concealing efforts to regroup, and they used this internal warfare of the Dominion as an opportunity, they could very possibly regain a grip here. With the Dominion so decisively split, the angels could even regain the city! And then they would resume their mass use of the beacons, and once again their worlds would come under constant assault of the light.

  Calm yourself. Even if they regrouped, they couldn't be that strong. Ungeo peered back out the window. They stretched far into the sky and haze, everywhere she could see. Bloody Hell! It looked like an entire angel company. Three million angels. It would take two Divisions just to face them equally. She had to find a radio. She had to tell someone at once.

  She burst out of the room. She peeked over the balcony. As she suspected, angels were already searching the building. Braving the central passage, she burst up four floors. Not waiting to see if she was seen, she found the back perch. She opened the door and burst out, praying there were no angels on this side.

  There were. Immediately, she started taking fire, but she dove down and around several buildings. Flying was exceptionally difficult in the rain. But it tired her more than faltered her. Luckily they only gave a half-hearted chase, and she was away.

  Ungeo didn't know where to go. There were battles all around, but she had to find a grande-commander. It didn't matter what side.

  In the distance a heavily fortified transport convoy rode low along the skyline. It rode parallel with the angels, and the ships would cross Ungeo's path. She didn't know its affiliation, so she stripped the red band of Moloch from her shoulder and shoved it in a pouch.

  She waved frantically at the lead ship of the convoy, a fighter. It slowed, bringing itself to hover. The storm rocked the ship. A Sedim piloted it, which meant they were loyalists. The troop transport behind opened its side and several Pazuzu and Shishi soldiers came out to surround her. “What is your business and affiliation,” a Pazuzu called. His uniform identified him as a Stinger. An elite soldier.

  “My affiliation is the survival of the demon worlds,” she said, finding it difficult to speak in the rain. “I need to speak to your commander immediately! A whole angel company has somehow broken through and they now hold the council area.”

  A Shishi laughed. “Is that a joke?”

  “Get her in here!” called a Pazuzu captain from the open door of the transport.

  “I speak the truth,” Ungeo said as she was ushered inside. The transport was filled with armored Stingers and Shishi Lobbers, the equivalent special forces of their race. She repeated her story to the captain as the convoy continued, a grizzled old Pazuzu with a crooked tail who looked more like an Arms Officer. Like an efficient soldier, he immediately got on his radio and began speaking with someone.

  It was a shame these soldiers were on the other side of the conflict. When the Dominion was together, it was indestructible. A terrible shame.

  The whole transport column began to turn.

  “This wayward Charun speaks truthfully,” the captain said. “They came from the ground and decimated the Molochite scum we were on our way to fight. We're regrouping with the sluagh so we can meet them.” He turned to look at Ungeo. “You saved our lives.”

  “I did no such thing,” she snapped, suddenly uncomfortable. She told them she was a spice-bulb and perfume dealer who had hidden after the assault. She tried to find out more of what was happening,
but they wouldn't talk. The convoy moved slowly, picking up every errant soldier they could find.

  * * * *

  The apartment was torn to shreds. At first Rico thought he was at the wrong place, but he turned at the sound of the couch being thrown over. Moloch was in a rage.

  “Where is it?” Moloch demanded.

  “What?”

  “The periscepter you fool!”

  “Gramm has it. We just did the greatest thing. They're taking the slaves....”

  “Where is he now!”

  “At the camps. We were freeing the slaves.”

  “I want you to return there immediately, cut your friend's throat, and return the periscepter at once!”

  What was happening? What was he talking about? “I don't understand,” Rico said, backing away.

  “One has to remain here always! If not all can be lost!”

  “But you promised Hitomi they were hers.”

  Moloch suddenly had a knife in his hand. He threw it straight at Rico's head. Rico caught it by the handle, just as he'd been trained.

  Moloch beat his fists into the wall, raging. Then he took a deep breath. “Very well,” Moloch said, suddenly very quiet. “I will go get it myself.”

  “Don't you hurt them! They're my friends.”

  “So?”

  Rico was incredulous. “I ... Why are you so mad?”

  Moloch still raged. “When I return, I am going to kill you, too.”

  Rico shook his head. All this time, he'd never once seen Moloch this bent out of shape before. “I'm your heir,” Rico said. “Please, just tell me why you're so mad.”

  “You sad little fuck,” Moloch said. “Do you really believe I would have you as my heir?” He laughed. “You're nothing.”

  Rico's head spun. “But ... But ... You killed me. You brought me here.”

  Moloch laughed again. It was a big hearty laugh, filled with malice. Rico hated it. He hated the sound of people laughing at him. “I did nothing other than plant that memory in your head. You died because you were hit by a car. And the person left you there to die like a dog in the street. Because that's what you were. That's what you'll always be. A crippled dog.”

  No. He didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. “This is a test. Another one of your tests.”

  “I can see what happens in every temple. I saw you kill the Nemat. That's how I first learned of you. Before, I didn't even think the periscepters were real.” Moloch shook his head and laughed.

  “Don't laugh at me. Don't you laugh.”

  “Maybe I will let you live when I'm done with your friends. Though I will have to dress you up in a colorful costume and keep a leash on you. When I have visitors, I will make you dance for them. Would you like that, Rico? Would you like to dance for me and my friends?” He reminded Rico of his father right then, bent over and laughing at him. Laughing, always laughing. “Maybe we'll travel to your human world. I can do that, you know. I'll have my way with your mother, maybe bring her here.”

  “Stop it!” Rico shrieked. “What about the revolution? The army?”

  “Neither of which is your concern.”

  “Of course it is! Our people ... Your people are being lined up and killed.”

  Moloch laughed again. The familiar form of Moloch began to twist and fade away, his features darkening and melting. His crimson robe fell from his shoulders to a heap on the floor. The figure that remained was black and shadowy. A floating wisp with no legs.

  A Marid! “A shapeshifter?” Rico shook his head. No. Couldn't be possible. Moloch was not a demon. He had the urge to throw up. All this time, fooled. He thought he had been a part of something important. He wanted to cry and scream all at once. “Why?”

  “Sad little Rico. Always the last to figure things out. My people were once absolute. Until sloth invaded our lives and we lost our footing. Gone were the ways of our past until I uncovered the secrets and learned them again. Even your precious Creator understood our superiority and gave you humans a small portion of our powers. And the fools that you are don't even know you have them.

  “I was called upon by my people to assert power over the Dahhak, so I imitated their fool religious leader. Even after I ordered them to give us free trade, they still didn't suspect. Later I came here to incite a human rebellion, and you couldn't even get that right. But many remember me and my cause, and I have a huge network of slaves who would slit their own wrists at my command. Then you came along, right into my lap with a periscepter. One of the four of their so-called great prophecy.” He laughed.

  Moloch's voice was completely different now. A low raspy growl. “Know this before you die. The Marid were once the greatest of demons, feared by the others. After the Dominion crumbles only my nation will remain intact. Every person you've ever known or loved will be a slave under our control.”

  Rico tried to jump away, back to the camps with Hitomi and Gramm. But he couldn't move. Moloch had done something to him. “You mean to kill me?” Rico said.

  “Yes. Yes I do.” Something was in Moloch's hand, raised. Then a terrible burning surrounded him. Then nothing.

  * * * *

  “The interim Dominion commander wishes to speak with you,” the captain said as they finally landed and disembarked onto a high platform. Below, loyalist soldiers swelled like an ocean. It was the largest group of soldiers Ungeo had ever seen in one place since the initial assault on Cibola.

  “Who?” Ungeo asked.

  “The new commander of the Dominion. The entire council was slain, and he is in charge for now.” The captain suddenly bowed. “My Lord.”

  “Ahh, I believe we've decided the proper term to be ‘Your Grace,’ please remember, yesss. Now check in with your commander.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” the captain said. He immediately began barking orders.

  Ungeo turned to face the Nidhogg. Though she had never been in his presence, she immediately recognized Uzkiev and his ever-present assistant, Ascot.

  “That's what I like about the Pazuzu, ahh. They adapt quickly.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Ungeo said.

  I'll tell them who I really am. Suggest they let me go, and I could convince the prelate and Trukkac to agree to a temporary peace until this new threat is overcome.

  But Ungeo couldn't do that. If she told them, they would likely kill her outright.

  Uzkiev hovered closer. “Tell us about the angels.”

  “I saw many. Maybe a whole company of Powers, but I can't be sure. They have personnel-based heavy weapons, but I didn't see any armor. They fly easily in the rain.”

  Uzkiev raised a hairless eyebrow. “I thought you were a shopkeeper.”

  Damn your beak. “I am. I was military until I hurt my claw.”

  “Voluntary discharge,” Uzkiev snorted. “That's something that's going to change.” The Mite on his shoulder began whispering in his ear. He nodded slightly. “Very well. All citizens loyal to the Dominion have been drafted. You are to report....”

  You have to do it. To save the Dominion. For your Pri. Even if it means your own execution, you have to at least attempt. “Actually Your Grace, I have been untruthful. I'm not really a shopkeeper.” She swallowed hard.

  “Oh?” Uzkiev said.

  “No. I am a daughter of Moloch. My name is Mid-Commander Ungeo G'sslom, and I have been hiding in exile at a Moloch temple until recently. It is my belief that if you dispatch me with a transport and an escort platoon, I can convince the Molochites to temporarily cease hostilities, so we can meet this in unison.” The rain fell in sheets.

  “Commander,” Uzkiev said immediately. “Place this Charun under arrest and place her in the stockade. The charge is treason.”

  “Wait,” Ungeo said as the Sedim platform guards came forward. They placed the metal binders around her wrists and both pairs of wing stems with silent efficiency. “Even if you don't send me, you must make an attempt. You must.”

  The Mite, ever whispering in the ear of the Dominion Co
mmander, turned its tiny head at one of the guards. “Belay that last order. We will keep her here.”

  A soldier rushed up and said something to Uzkiev she didn't hear.

  “No. Leave all such decisions to the grande-commanders. I don't want this fight lost because I didn't react quickly enough.

  “We have already requested a temporary cease fire, and our request was denied,” Uzkiev said. “Apparently your precious god himself killed the messenger. Only his head was returned to us, wrapped in a red flag.”

  “Did you tell them about the angels?”

  “They know, yesss. It's more than a simple company we face. Right now we estimate three full angel brigades mass just north of here, spread out along the center of the city.”

  “Three brigades!” That many? “From where did they come? What of the demons stationed there?”

  “Ahh, we don't know,” Uzkiev said. “Our best soldiers had already left the front to deal with the treachery in the rear. The others have retreated or are killed. We haven't heard from the Wuj since this started, and we fear they've been completely overrun. They were never good in mass combat.”

  Ungeo shifted uncomfortably in her bindings. Three Brigades? Bloody Hell. Neither the loyalists nor the Molochites alone could face this easily. In order to defeat this new threat and remain a viable power afterwards, both sides would have to come together.

  The Mite buzzed off Uzkiev's shoulder and hovered right before her. The Mite sank a few inches every time he was pelted directly in the head with a raindrop. Ungeo wasn't exactly sure why, perhaps it was the look in the Mite's eyes, but at that moment she understood the dynamic between the Nidhogg and Mite. She looked directly at the small demon.

  “Our intelligence has quite the profile on you. I don't trust you, but I believe in your brilliance,” the Mite said. “I will keep you here for your counsel. If we emerge victorious, your death sentence may be reassessed.”

  She considered the Mite for a moment. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  He smiled at that. “Have you counsel?”

  “Yes,” she said immediately. “Find me a method of communicating with the Dahhak prelate.”