The Daughter of the Night

by Julian Porter

  'Ah yes, my dear. But your apparently earthly goal of achieving climax, is of cosmic significance. For you are no ordinary woman.'

  'Are you saying,' said Unity dubiously, 'That me coming will make the stars come right?'

  'In essence, yes.'

  'Okay, that settled it,' she said, 'You're a loony. And it's such a shame, because you're a nice man, and you haven't propositioned me once, which is a pleasant change, let me tell you, and the story you told was so interesting, but if you think that me and my orgasms will help put Azathoth's new mind fund in the black, then you should be joining him.'

  'As it happens, no. Let me explain.'

  'Well I suppose I might as well,' she said, throwing up her hands. 'I mean, if I'm not having orgasms then my life is meaningless, so who cares what I do. Go on then,' and she settled back, looking discontented, as of a woman who has just discovered that, yes, that was the last chocolate in the box.

  The Professor began again,

  'What has been sought for millennia is a way to restore the hypostasis. And the only way to do that is to rejoin Azathoth and Nyarlathotep and restore the emanation of their love. The doing of which will require the ultimate expression of love if it is to hope to succeed, for it is only by an act of love, so pure, so elemental, that it is the purest essence of love, that the union can be restored, and the link to the godhead reforged. And for millennia the Great Old Ones have tried and failed to achieve this. Some of the less mature Elder Races, I am thinking particularly of the Fungi and the Deep Ones, have developed the rather bizarre idea that we humans hold the key, and so they play their silly little games, forgetting that what is needed is not arcane knowledge, but love.'

  'And now you come along. A woman of peerless beauty, with a body so perfect that it expresses the pure essence of eros. You are seeking sexual fulfilment, but as the ultimate and greatest embodiment of love, you can only be fulfilled by the ultimate act of love.'

  'You mean,' said Unity, eyes wide and breasts wobbling.

  'Yes. Your destiny is to re-establish the hypostasis, and in that process you will feel a climax that will be, I promise you, the purest essence, the highest climax that anyone will ever know. You will achieve the negation of negation, by combining the totality of the hypostasis with the nothingness, the annihilation of self, that comes at the height of love's frenzy. Can we make them turn the volume down, do you think?' he said in more conversational tones, for indeed, at the mention of the negation of negation, the choir had redoubled their efforts. Unity shook her head and said,

  'I really don't have any control over it. I suppose at least it means we're on the right track.'

  'Indeed.'

  'So fine, I need to rejoin the hypostasis, commit the ultimate act of love, have an orgasm, and then . . .'

  'That act of love will be eternal. Your orgasm will never end.'

  'Wow, that sounds like my kind of fun. Sign me up for it. Or, to put it another way, what do I do?' The Professor smiled a little and said,

  'It is simplicity itself. You must join yourself in an act of love with the two remaining persons of the hypostasis. In loving them, you will heal the wounds of the great sundering, and restore the unity to what it once was.' Unity looked dubious,

  'So you're saying I should get in a threesome with Nyarlathotep and Azathoth?'

  'Crudely, yes.' She looked even more dubious.

  'Well, I don't mind Nyarlathotep. Actually, he's rather dishy, so I wouldn't mind having a pop at him. But Azathoth? Eew. He drools, you know. Daddy took me to see him once, and he drooled non-stop. It was a big turn-off. Do I have to?'

  'No. If you are content to remain unfulfilled, fornicating mindlessly in a desperate effort to hide the emptiness of your life from yourself, then that is what you can do.' Unity's face was a carefully controlled blank.

  'I see,' she said. 'Well, put like that, I suppose there's only one thing for it . . .'

  'Yes?'

  'I'd better go and see Daddy and see if we can arrange to meet Nyarlathotep and . . . Azathoth, and then – I'll do what I can do.' She got up to go. 'Thank you, Professor,' she said, 'You've been most helpful. Is there anything I could do in return? I don't know, like, say, make love to you?' The Professor chuckled,

  'My dear, merely to have looked on your loveliness and breathed your scent is enough reward for me. I know my place.'

  'Well, I must do something for you. I know, you said you liked my boobs. There,' she shrugged herself out of her bodice and stood, facing him, breasts dancing away without restraint. The Professor looked at her, at them, at the gestalt that was the archetype of erotic beauty, with great attention and eventually said,

  'Thank you, my dear. That was most generous of you. Now you go and be generous to the Elder Gods in their need. Be kind to Azathoth. He was great once, and he may yet be again.'

  Chapter 5: Things come to a head

  Unity was uncharacteristically subdued during the journey back to Cthonia, failing to seduce a single cultist, in spite of there being several very tempting opportunities. She had been much affected by her conversation with the Professor of Theology, for though she had grown accustomed to the idea of there being a 'higher purpose' behind her quest, given that she didn't seem to be able to meet an elder being without their mentioning it, she had never for a moment suspected that her destiny was so, well, exalted. Finding a missing Great Old One, brushing him down, perhaps having it off with him once or twice, and then restoring him to his old friends, that she could deal with, could comprehend. But becoming the third and greatest part of the hypostatic union that joined this cosmos to the ground of all being in Yog Sothoth, well that was, if not too vast to grasp, then definitely an idea that required a re-evaluation of, well, everything. She had always thought that the continuous orgasms would come from her spending her life on her back while virile women, men and things queued up to service her. She hadn't expected it to arise from the constant, moment-to-moment creation of the entire cosmos, and the massive efflux of love that it caused. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of an orgasm that didn't involve sex. Over the years she had grown rather attached to the sexual act, unfulfilled though it was, and she had sort of hoped that she could carry on doing it, just having it being more fun: bigger and better, but essentially the same. But this was a shift as great as that experienced by the first person to harness fire, the first farmers, the first person to bite into that black wrinkly thing that the pig had just grubbed up out of the ground. And so it, as was only natural, took time for her to readjust her estimation of herself from sex-goddess to goddess pure and simple.

  Nina also was rather subdued. Partly because she had been shocked at the terrible, blasphemous things the Professor had said (and him a professor of Theology too). But mostly because she had lived her life being bossed around by Unity, and had come to rely on her for things like making decisions. With Unity withdrawn into herself, Nina was forced to think for herself, and she discovered that she wasn't very good at it. So, not being one to let the habit of a lifetime be given up without a struggle, she turned to her beloved. Who was also rather subdued, largely because he still found it hard to believe what he had got himself into. But no matter. An initially stilted conversation eventually became, if not animated, at least flowing, and eventually they got round to discussing the inevitable question, that is to say:

  'Pardon me for asking, Nina, but how are you proposing to spend your life with me, when you have no body and your sister's going to be rather busy being a goddess, or whatever it is she's going to do?' Nina thought. Not deeply, because she couldn't. But she could be persistent. And eventually she remembered something that Unity had said to her during one of their frequent rows.

  'Oh, Unity has it all worked out,' she said, 'We'll go to Herbert West, and he'll find a nice-looking, but not too much so, if you know what I mean, body and transmigrate me to it.' Her beloved examined this idea, as it were, from all sides, and eventually said,

  'And Herbert West would b
e?'

  'He's a reanimator,' she said as if that explained everything. It didn't.

  'And what's a reanimator?'

  'Why he reanimates things. You know, you really are quite stupid, perhaps I should . . . but no, you are my one true love, and love knows not IQ tests. Herbert's a really nice man. Why, when my kitty was run over by a stampeding Shoggoth, he brought her back in no time. But then,' her voice began to wobble, 'Daddy forgot to put in his contact lenses one day and thought she was a baby and ate her.' The wobble became more pronounced, and could well have developed into full-blown lachrymosity had not the thought of finally having her very own body buoyed Nina's spirits, so she continued, more cheerfully, 'He, that is Herbert, not Daddy, started off when he was a boy when his dog was run over and he swore that it would live again. And now he does full-body transplants. Half of Hollywood are his clients, if truth be told.'

  'Oh.' Which said it all really. Then: 'Are you sure you want someone else's body?'

  'Well, what do you think it's like not having one at all?' Well, the young man was a bit dim (he and Nina were made for one another), and not very experienced around women, his sex-life to date having consisted of Unity and the time that the shop manager had jumped him while he was re-shelving translations from the Iroquois, but he had an idea that something was required of him at this point, so he said,

  'There, there,' in a soothing way.

  'Thank you,' she said. 'We just need to get the right person, get the Fungi to extract her from her body and put her in one of their tin cans, and then I'll be subtly, not outrageously, like Unity is, sexy. You'll like that, won't you?'

  And so the journey wore on, until eventually they arrived at Cthonia. They made straight for Great Cthulhu's house, where they found him nodding over a half finished meal while 'What's my Species?' played on the television. Unity tutted and said, in as commanding a tone as she could muster, befitting, she considered, her new-found status as a goddess to be,

  'Daddy, wake up!' Great Cthulhu jumped and, as he regained consciousness, said,

  'No officer, I swear it wasn't me. I would never eat a Jehovah's Witness. They taste funny . . . oh,' which last exclamation came when he saw Unity staring severely at him. Then he saw the boyfriend and, his still sleep-addled brain reverting to nice simple thought-patterns that didn't require much effort, said, “Dessert!' and reached out with several tentacles. The young man hid behind Unity, while Nina screamed and Unity said in a scarily schoolmarmish tone,

  'No, daddy, you can't. He's Nina's one true love. She's found him at last. Though what she's going to do with him I have no idea, given that he's as dull as she is. Then, who am I to criticise losers? If I did, I wouldn't have time for more important things. Like sex. And having orgasms, not that I have yet, of course, but . . .'

  At this point Cthulhu interrupted. Having gathered his wits he realised that he was suffering the pangs of yet another visit from his daughter, which seemed rather unfair, given that the last visit was only days ago, but there you go: life's a bitch and then you live indefinitely, due to being an immortal squid-monster thing. Trying to practice the acceptance of fate that his therapist had told him about, he thought calming thoughts – the destruction of Sodom, blood orgies, the look on Torquemada's face when he was introduced to the real highest authority, or at least the highest authority that could be bothered to see him, and so on – and tried to accept that this was kismet, and that good may yet come from a visit from his daughter, though how he was somewhat uncertain. But anyway, no good could possibly come if he allowed Unity to ramble. That he knew of old. So, as aforementioned, he interrupted and said,

  'So do I understand, daughter, that you failed in your quest?'

  'Well, it depends what you mean by failed,' said Unity. 'I haven't had an orgasm yet,'

  'Oh, my child, I am sorry, but some things are just not meant to me. Like Dagon cleaning his teeth, for example.'

  'But, Daddy, if you'll just let me finish, and then you can ramble away to your heart's content,' which seemed rather unfair to Cthulhu, but then, this was his daughter, and since when had she ever been fair? In any sense. Hideous to look at, hideously unfair. Why pink and white? Why not a good healthy green? Or even mud-coloured like Dagon? But she was continuing, leading to this potentially fascinating train of thought being shelved for ever. 'But please do that later, because though I have not yet had an orgasm, I know how to get one.'

  'Well that's go . . .'

  'But what I need to do means that I have a higher cause.' This did not sound good. The idea of his daughter taking to a fad with even greater devotion than that she had lavished on her sex-life was truly frightening. He hesitated even to think about what it might be, the memory of her last fad, when she was convinced to save the whales, and filled the house with gigantic evil-smelling rotting cetacean carcasses, and wouldn't let him eat any of them, was still too raw. So he braced himself for what was coming, knowing that it couldn't be good. But better know sooner, so as to have longer to prepare.

  'And so what is this cause, daughter?'

  'I mean,' said Unity, 'To restore the hypostatic union and rejoin this cosmos to the ground of Yog Sothoth.'

  This time Cthulhu didn't just jump, he leaped out of his chair, sending fragments of not very well simulated human flying hither and yon and causing the young lover to faint on being pelted with what he was not to know were not real eyeballs. Cthulhu clearly didn't know where to begin,

  'But, my child, my child, you . . . look, how do you even know about the hypostatic union? All you care about is your strange human spawning rituals.'

  'Yes, Daddy, I know, but I have learned quite a lot on my travels, and the main thing I have learned is that if I am ever going to have an orgasm, I have to reform the union, with myself as the third and greatest part. A nice old man told me so and my boobs agreed with him, look, they're doing it now,' with which she directed Cthulhu's part befuddled and part nauseated (he couldn't help it, he just found his daughter's body a big turn-off) gaze to her corsage, which was indeed vibrating like the San Andreas Fault at Fiesta time. And, despite what Unity had claimed at their last extended meeting, this still meant nothing to Cthulhu: as far as he knew those – things – might do this all the time, but Unity seemed to believe that it mattered, and who was he to disagree with her. Or at least, to risk what might happen if he did. Anything for a quiet life, especially as with luck she might, if encouraged, go away and leave him in peace in time for 'How Green was my Ichor'. So he looked intently and, he hoped, intelligently, at the wobbling and said,

  'I see, and so . . .'

  'Well, it's obvious what we should do, isn't it Daddy?' Cthulhu sighed. His ploy to get her to tell him what the hell she was going on about had failed. So, having failed, he flailed,

  'Well, I suppose we, er, that is, I could buy you another dress? One that hides those things so you don't have to see the wobbling?'

  'No!' she almost shouted. 'I want an orgasm and I'm going to have one, even if I do have to end up running the whole bloody cosmos to do it. You're not,' she stamped her foot, 'Going to stop me. Do you understand?' Cthulhu was immediately emollient: an angry Unity, as opposed to a merely annoying one, was a rare event, and one he would like to stay rare, so pouring of oil – his mind recoiled as he thought of pouring oil over those far from still appendages - and so, not wishing to encounter his dinner again, it having tasted perfectly filthy on the way down, he quickly switched the metaphor to soap, soft soap – oh, praise himself, imagine what rubbing soap over that expanse might – no, no, he had to be calm. He firmly closed his mind to all further thought of eldritch globes of horror such as the Great Old Ones were not meant to know, and said, in as conciliating a manner as was possible in someone whose one genuine, bona-fide skill was eating people,

  'No, daughter, of course not. But, er, how do you propose to, er, become ruler of the cosmos, which, I'm not saying you shouldn't, but I just think I should point this out, would involve a lot of hard work
and not just lying on your back all day while you do that horrible thing you do, what is it you call it? Conversation.'

  'Oh, daddy, you know perfectly well that it's intercourse, and there's nothing horrible about it. It's fun. You should try it some time. I can give you some tips if you like.' Cthulhu shuddered, which Unity mistook for excitement, for she said, 'There's no need to get all aroused, it's not as if I said I'd fuck you, though I will let you fondle my boobs again if you like.' Cthulhu did not like; not at all, but it was clear from the way that Unity was sticking those – things – out and looking expectantly at him, that he was going to have to do something. So, with immense caution, as if she were made of anti-matter, he extended one of his least favourite tentacles and gingerly touched her – there – with its tippiest tip. And then, for he was nothing if not wily - why, in the good old days, he had been known to go to extraordinary lengths to eat exactly the right human in place of hundreds of others who were there for the gobbling – he added verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative by saying, in what he thought was a good imitation of a human being in the throes of sexual ecstasy,