by N E Riggs
He took a quick shower and changed into his uniform, securing his weapons. Alosh found him just as he finished, and they took the elevator together to the gateway floor.
“Another day, another Earth,” David said, staring at the gateway. He was getting tired of traveling to Earths that weren’t home. As long as he worked in the traditional division, though, he’d be traveling all over the cosmos. Of course, he might not be serving in the sixth much longer. He had now served in the sixth division for almost sixth months – closer to seven months, Earth time, he’d learned; Bantonan months were shorter but there were thirteen in a year. After six months, he could request to transfer to another division.
Six months. He still had trouble believing it. Six months as a Sword Priest and over nine months on Bantong - close to nine months Earth time too. When he’d figured out the difference, he wrote out his calendar on top of the Bantonan calendar on his com pad. It had been mid-October when he met Cethon. It was July now. He’d missed so much. He wondered if John had given him up for dead yet. He shook his head, making himself focus on something positive. He’d had a lot of practice at that by now.
He liked the sixth division and enjoyed traveling to other worlds – some divisions spent most of their time on Bantong, rarely traveling. In the week since Tikal, the sixth division had become awkward. Anur no longer spoke with him except when she had to. Bellon ignored him most of the time too, though he’d done that even before Niam retired.
David was just grateful for Alosh. He’d have gone mad without him. Alosh loved the sixth division and had no intention of ever transferring, so David didn’t plan to switch either. He had to hope that Anur might transfer instead, much as that thought made him want to wilt inside. He wished he knew how to mend things between them, but he didn’t. Late at night, he wondered if they could ever be friends again.
“You think too much,” Alosh said, slinging his arm around David’s shoulder. “I hear the people of this Earth look funny: they’re supposed to be short and very colorful. Their country has a funny name too: Lipsip.”
“Very funny,” David said, though that description sounded oddly familiar to him. He couldn’t place it. “What kind of monster are we hunting this time?”
“Second worst monster there is.” At David’s worried look, Alosh said, “Humans.”
David pushed his arm away. “This isn’t something to joke about. Seriously, what are we fighting?”
Alosh shook his head. “I’m not joking. We’re fighting people. Some crazy civil war started a few months ago, and people are dying all over the place. We’re supposed to stop the war.” He scowled. “It’s a shit mission, you know. Fighting monsters is much easier.”
David remembered the riot that had killed Conal. “Yeah.”
The entire division finally assembled, and Rolan and Hue led them through the gateway. On the other side, they found themselves in a field dotted with cows, goats, and sheep. Rough, clay huts stood a short distance away. It looked like something from a Stone Age exhibit at a museum, David thought as they walked towards the homes. Slanted wooden beams held up hide walls outside the huts, and there was a small opening at the top of the huts through which smoke rose. The huts – David refused to call them anything grander than that – stood in a loose circle. In the center sat a group of people. Even sitting, they seemed very short, with long hair and beards. They wore leather hides and furs and most held stone tools and weapons. As Alosh had said, the people were colorful – most had copper skin, and David saw orange hair, red hair, pink hair, and yellow hair.
When he got closer, he saw that not everything was Stone Age. Three of the little men carried guns, and a woman held a rifle. A faint trickle of dread teased the back of his mind as he wondered how primitives could have come by Bantonan weapons.
“Greetings,” Rolan said, stopping a short distance away. The little people raised their weapons at him, and he held out his arms, trying to look unthreatening. “I am Steward Rolan Duran, and this is the sixth traditional division, from Bantong. I hoped to speak with Kemi Fandrel.” David’s sense of unease grew, and he shifted from one foot to the other.
The little people lowered their weapons, and the woman with the rifle stood. She barely came up to Rolan’s chest. A translator was on her temple – some of the other people had translators, too, David saw. “Kemi is not here. I am Keri, his twin, and I speak for the tribe in his absence. Are you here to help our war, Steward?”
David hid behind Alosh before Keri could see him. His heart started beating loudly, and he pressed a hand to his chest. Alosh half turned, looking at him oddly, but David shook his head. He finally knew why this place and these people seemed familiar.
He knew Keri and her brother Kemi. He’d met them in Kumarkan, before he became an acolyte. They’d gotten offended when he called them dwarfs. He couldn’t remember much else from the conversation. It had been nearly nine months ago, and he hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It only lingered in his memory because of their odd appearance. He wondered if Keri would recognize him – he knew he couldn’t hide from her forever.
“We are here to stop the war, Keri,” Rolan said. David peeked out from behind Alosh just enough to see Rolan looking severe. “How did you come by those weapons?” He pointed at the guns and the rifle.
Keri leaned her rifle against her shoulder. From the way she handled it, David could tell she knew how to use it. “Nine months ago, my brother and I traveled to Bantong. We asked your people to help us defeat our enemies, but we were refused. No matter how we begged, you still refused us, saying it was not your concern if we died.” Her face twisted. “We are not fools, though, Steward. We found someone who showed us where you hid your weapons. Since you would not give us aid, we helped ourselves. We couldn’t get the greatest Bantonan weapons or even the ones you use, but these are still miraculous.” She spread out her hands. “And now that we are winning, you finally come to us. Your arrogance and hypocrisy know no bounds.”
David bit his lip. He thought he remembered talking with Kemi and Keri about Bramira. Everything, including Bramira, had been so new to him at the time. When the twins admired his weapon, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from talking about it. At that time, he’d been practicing with Bramira in one of the gymnasiums at Kumarkan. Though he didn’t remember much from their meeting, he was pretty sure he was the one who told Keri and Kemi where to find weapons. His stomach churned, and dread filled him. He had to keep away from Keri. If she saw him, she’d recognize him. If anyone found out he was at fault for this war, he’d be in serious trouble.
“You speak to me of arrogance?” Rolan asked. His voice was soft, but it contained no hint of gentleness. “You have used stolen weapons to commit genocide. How many of your enemies remain?”
“Very few.” Keri smirked. “A few still hide in the hills. We will find them soon enough.”
“Fucking travelers,” Rolan growled. David’s jaw dropped; he’d never heard Rolan curse before. Rolan whirled and said to Hue. “Stay here and keep a watch on them. I’m going to stop this before it becomes a complete genocide.”
Hue nodded, pulling out his agitator. “I wonder how well you know how to use your stolen weapons,” he said to Keri. “And how lucky you’re feeling.” He smiled nastily. Keri eyed him but didn’t raise her rifle.
As the sixth division split into two groups, David pulled Alosh with him behind Rolan, still hiding behind him. He couldn’t stay here with Keri, she’d seen him for sure. Alosh swatted his hands away but went along. David knew he’d be asking about his behavior soon, and he didn’t know what excuse he might give. If Alosh learned he’d accidentally started this slaughter, he’d surely hate him.
They marched away from the circle of huts towards the hills to the south. As they walked, they passed evidence of war. Short bodies lay sprawled across the field every so often. They lay in ungainly positions, most half rotten away and pecked clean by carrion. As if they’d just been left there after they di
ed, David thought, pushing away nausea. He forced himself not to turn away. Even if it had been an accident, this war was partly his fault. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t see it.
None of the bodies looked new, and he couldn’t tell what had killed them. With guns and rifles in hand, Keri and Kemi’s enemies wouldn’t have been much of an obstacle. He wondered how many weapons the twins had stolen and how they’d brought them home without their Lost Priest noticing. He wondered too why it had taken so long for anyone from Bantong to come and stop this slaughter.
The track into the hills seemed to take forever as David dragged his heels. A thousand possible scenarios ran through his head of Keri or Kemi recognizing him, and he couldn’t imagine a good ending to any of them. He could just see Alosh coming to hate him as Anur and Bellon already did. He closed his eyes. He didn’t know how he could continue in the sixth division without any friends. And what would Rolan and Hue think of him? Could they kick him out of the division? Might they even kick him out of the priesthood entirely?
He swallowed hard and wiped a sweaty hand on his pants. Maybe Kemi and Keri wouldn’t notice him. Keri hadn’t, earlier. If he kept at the back of the group, didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself…
He knew it was pointless hoping, but he couldn’t help himself.
They reached the hills in good time, around mid-afternoon. Rolan kept looking about, as if he expected to be ambushed at any moment, but they saw no one on their trip. Maybe they saw no one because there was no one to see – maybe everyone was already dead. Part of David hoped for that: if everyone was dead, there would be no ambushes. He didn’t need any more surprises on this mission. Another part of him hated himself for thinking like that. When Anur spotted tracks, he felt worried and relieved and ashamed of being relieved.
Small huts dotted the hills, or what was left of them. Most had been burnt, and now only a few singed timbers remained. They even passed what had once probably been a small village, but now only bones and few stone tools littered the ground. Rolan’s frown grew fiercer at each new thing they saw, and David quailed at the thought of Rolan turning that look on him.
A thin line of smoke appeared over a hill as darkness fell. Grimly they marched towards it. Short people sat around a small campfire, laughing and eating and holding guns. David pulled his helmet further down and kept close to Alosh’s back.
“Greetings,” one of the Lipsipans said as they approached. He stood, holding up a skewer of meat, and David peeked out from behind Alosh just long enough to recognize him as Kemi. He too had a translator. “Are you from Bantong? We heard you were coming to help us. Join us.”
“We are the Bantonan sixth traditional division,” Rolan said. His voice sounded tense to David. “But we’re not here to help you murder your neighbors.” He drew his agitator and glared around the fire. The ten Lipsipans stared back at him as if they couldn’t imagine why he was so angry. “You will stop your conquest immediately.”
Kemi frowned, staring back. He held his gun loosely, as did the others. David noticed most of the Sword Priests already held their weapons and drew his own agitator. “We are not your enemies, good priests,” Kemi said. “When my sister and I visited Bantong, we heard of the glory of Aeons. We saw the marvels of your world and knew that surely there was no other god like Aeons. When we returned home to Earth, we told our people, and they now revere Aeons, as you do. We tried to tell our neighbors as well, but they disbelieved our tale. They are cruel, foolish savages, so it’s no surprise.” He spat on the ground. “So we took the weapons given to us by Aeons himself and showed them the error of their way. This is a holy war. Surely you can understand that.”
Rolan’s face twisted, and he thumbed off the safety on his agitator. “The Eternist religion has never called for the deaths of unbelievers. We kill only Nephilim, dangerous creatures, and those who follow the Nephilim. You stole your weapons and you made an excuse to kill your neighbors, a conquest you started long before traveling to Bantong! Stand down now, and we will show mercy.” He raised his agitator, and a red dot appeared between Kemi’s eyes. The rest of the sixth division raised their weapons too. David’s hand shook as he took aim at Kemi. His arm trembled so he held his agitator with both hands.
The other Lipsipans held their weapons half-raised and looked to Kemi for guidance. Kemi stared back at Rolan, not looking afraid. With a smile, he tossed his gun aside. “I would never raise a weapon to one of Aeons’s chosen warriors,” he said. The other Lipsipans put their guns away too. Rolan motioned, and four of the Sword Priests quickly collected the weapons. “Besides,” Kemi’s smile widened, “we finished our holy war already.”
“Bastard,” Rolan hissed. His hand twitched, and David thought he might shoot Kemi anyway. He lowered his agitator after a moment. “We wait here tonight. Tomorrow, we will gather the rest of your people together and take you to Bantong. Once there, you will explain your story to a Law Priest. You will find them no more understanding than me.”
None of the Lipsipans tried to escape. They sat down and returned to their dinner while the Sword Priests kept watch over them. David stayed away from the fire – he didn’t think Kemi had noticed him yet, and he was starting to think he wouldn’t. The Lipsipans offered to share their dinner, but, after seeing Rolan’s expression, the Sword Priests politely turned them down, eating ration bars instead.
The Sword Priests slept in shifts, but no matter how hard David tried he couldn’t rest. He lay tensely in his sleeping bag on the hard ground, waiting for the moment when Kemi saw him, the moment his life as a Sword Priest came to an end. By morning, he was sure his eyes were red. Alosh gave him a concerned look, but David shook his head and looked away. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to talk about this to Alosh, certainly not before they were back on Bantong and away from Kemi and Keri.
On the walk back out of the hills, Rolan made the Lipsipans stay in the middle of the group where they could be watched. David debated where the best place to hide was, before deciding on the back of the group. The Lipsipans walked cheerfully, singing a song about the kindness of Aeons. David had never heard the song before, but, from the way even Alosh glared, he guessed it was a Bantonan hymn.
Hue met them a short distance from the small village. “They didn’t resist?” he asked Rolan, sounding surprised.
“They still think we’re proud of them,” Rolan said. “What of the others?”
“We’ve had no problems,” Hue said. “They even handed over their stolen weapons. They said—” He broke off suddenly when, on the other side of the village, a gateway appeared. Unlike every other gateway David had seen, a dark blue glow defined its edges. The normal glow of a gateway was just blue. “Was there a gateway scheduled?” Hue asked Rolan.
Rolan drew his agitator. “Not that I recall.” He motioned for the other Sword Priests to arm themselves. David pulled out his agitator and stared at the gateway. He could see a small room with dark paneled walls on the other side. He didn’t recognize it, but he didn’t expect to. He wondered how a gateway could suddenly appear – didn’t the Passion Priests keep careful track of them? Of course, according to Brigid, a gateway to his Earth had appeared with little warning, so perhaps it wasn’t so unusual. “Is that a gateway manipulator?” Rolan asked, waving his agitator.
A small, gray object sat on the ground on the other side of the gateway; David hadn’t noticed it earlier. He couldn’t make it out very well, since the gateway was far away, and he didn’t know what a gateway manipulator looked like anyway. It looked like a metallic bread box. “It might be,” Hue said, scowling.
A figure appeared in the gateway and stepped through: a man, tall with dark hair wearing a bright, short-sleeved red jacket. “Tenin!” Keri called from the village, waving to the man. Tenin looked around at the Sword Priests and blanched. He turned and ran back to the gateway.
“Stop him!” Rolan yelled. Everyone in the sixth division raised their agitators, and Tenin fell just before reaching the ga
teway, stunned by at least twenty shots. A few Sword Priests dragged Tenin back to the village where they tied him up. Hue stuck his head through the gateway. “Where does it lead?” Rolan asked.
“Somewhere in Jigok,” Hue said, pulling out his com pad. He played with it for a minute or so. “And here’s the manipulator.” He stepped back through the gateway, carrying the gray machine. David wished he could get a closer look, but he was still trying to keep hidden – the manipulator was boxy with a large display and buttons on the top. The gateway closed a few moments after Hue stepped through. “Who is this man?” he asked the Lipsipans, putting the gateway manipulator on the ground and sitting beside Tenin.
Keri frowned. Kemi came and stood beside her. “Tenin,” he said. “We met him in Kumarkan, at the armory. He helped us bring our weapons back home, he told us about Aeons, and he said that we should kill unbelievers.” He looked between Rolan and Hue. “I assumed he was a priest. He dressed the same as our Lost Priest. Is he not?”
“I doubt it,” Rolan said, looking at Tenin as if he were worse than Hitler. David breathed a quiet sigh of relief – even if his part in this debacle came out, this Tenin had caused far worse damage than he had. Maybe he wouldn’t get in trouble after all – or at least not much trouble. “Wake him up,” Rolan told Tain.
Tain knelt beside Tenin and placed his hands on his upper arms. A gold glow emanated from his hands, seeping into Tenin’s skin. A moment later, Tenin jerked awake, wincing. He struggled against his bonds for a moment then sat back, scowling. “I won’t tell you anything,” he said to Rolan.
Rolan raised an eyebrow. “If you’re hoping to avoid guilt, refusing to talk to a Sword Priest isn’t a good way to start. I strongly suggest you cooperate.”
“I’d rather die,” Tenin sneered.
