Bedlam

by M. T. Miller

  The Nameless looked around, the same way he had countless times that day. Rush was at his left, Emile to his right. There were still signs of wear on the priest, but they were only visible to those who knew what to look for. To anyone else, he was the same man he was a year ago, at least on first sight.

  Close to a hundred guards were there. Whatever their usual duties were, now they were moot. For as long as the White City’s envoys remained in Babylon, these policemen were on guard duty. About half of them now stood at attention around the Nameless. The rest huddled in alleys or bushes, or remained hidden via other means.

  “They arriving via horseback?” David shouted at the spotter. He had brought his own security retinue; ten of the best men they had, all personally trained by the Nameless. “How many?”

  The spotter took a moment. “Horseback, yes! Eight total, sir! Three in white!”

  David didn’t say anything. The Nameless knew why. He thought about it as well. Not dressing in uniform was an unusual decision. If it was meant to send a message, it was a murky one at best.

  The Nameless turned to Rush, whose eyes narrowed as she gazed toward the horizon.

  “Five soldiers,” she said. “Mercenaries, I think. Two priests, beards ‘n’ all. One nun with a killer set of shades.”

  Chastity.

  “So…” Rush continued, “think they’ll be crazy enough to try something?”

  The Nameless was about to reply, but Emile cut him off.

  “I certainly hope so.”

  I hope they will not, the Nameless thought.

  Time passed, and the riders closed in. Details slowly became discernible. The mercenaries’ cold stares, striking tattoos, and blades that hung at their hips, swaying as they rode. The priests’ originally white—now grey—robes, and the way they sharply contrasted with the immaculate display Chastity gave off.

  Is this real? The Nameless rubbed his eyes. The former (or perhaps current?) Saint seemed unfazed by her journey. Her pale skin showed no sign of exposure to the sun. Her veil-less white habit was as pristine as the silver hair that flowed behind her. Her expression was, as always, indecipherable.

  Have fun with that, SIM, thought the Nameless. He signaled for the forward part of the security detail to spread out, and they did just that. Over the course of a minute, the city of Babylon opened its arms. Whether that would result in an embrace or a clinch was up to the visitors.

  The horses stopped moving some ten feet away from the city’s vanguard. Not engaging in any pleasantries, Chastity dismounted first. She grabbed the reins and started walking the animal toward the welcoming committee. The other visitors followed.

  “I presume you want to search us,” she said. “Go ahead. We have nothing to hide.”

  Nothing we can find, no. The Nameless gestured for the guards, who surrounded the envoys and proceeded about their work. By the time they finished, no weapon had been found.

  “They’re clean!” a policeman shouted.

  The Nameless shouted back. “Let them pass!”

  The visitors stepped into the borders of the Circle. It was so quiet, each step and hoof clack scraped the Nameless’ ears.

  The Nameless was now before the nun, flanked by both Rush and Emile. “A long time has passed, Chastity.”

  Chastity’s expression remained absent, and if anything was happening with her eyes, the chrome shades completely obscured it. “Where does the meeting take place? We have traveled long, and I wish to be done with it.”

  David intruded before the Nameless replied. “In the pyramid.” He pointed at the structure while he and his security detail approached. “I am David Torres, Governor of Babylon. Pleased to finally meet you.”

  Behind her shades, Chastity’s eyes presumably drifted between David and the Nameless. “When will it take place?”

  “By plan, tomorrow noon,” said David. He and his bodyguards were now close enough to mix with the Nameless’ group. “But we can move it a day or two later if you’re tired from your journey.”

  “Can you move it forward?” Chastity asked.

  David and the Nameless exchanged glances.

  “Is the room secured?” David asked.

  “Of course it is,” said the Nameless. “It will be available whenever you need it.”

  David turned back to the visitors. “You are guests here. If you’d be willing to forego your rest before the meeting, then we’ll be willing to forego ours.”

  “Excellent,” Chastity said. She tugged her reins, and the horse started moving along with her.

  “Get them moving,” David told the Nameless, who had already given the men their signal. The security unit advanced upon the pyramid, travelling through nearly empty streets along the way. The houses were vacant as well, having previously been emptied on order of the Nameless.

  He remembered Lem’s words: Be friendly, but not too friendly. Were the Nameless still in power, things would have been done differently. And we would likely end up at war again.

  He scoffed, causing Rush to look at him sidelong. Disregarding David’s unwillingness to bare his teeth, he knew what he was doing. For now, the Nameless would not interfere.

  During their walk to the pyramid, Chastity didn’t speak. However, the way her head moved after each intersection spoke volumes about her interest in the Circle. It was said that the White City was a wondrous place, at least while the Holy One had lived. The wild growth of the Circle’s infrastructure must have been a huge departure.

  I wonder if I will ever see the White City, the Nameless wondered. Perhaps undercover, some day. He was the slayer of their angelic savior. The hatred these people had for him must be immeasurable. Yet here they are.

  He focused on Chastity’s movements. There was neither tension nor caution in her stride; she walked as if she were among the best of friends. If only her attitude matched her body language.

  After leaving the mounts at the stables, the emissaries allowed themselves to be led into the pyramid. Despite the increase in safety this provided, the security detail still escorted them throughout the ground floor. Whether or not there were assassins in wait, it was better to be safe than sorry.

  “This place is almost empty,” Chastity said halfway toward the central pillar.

  “It is mostly an industrial hub now,” David said. “The infrastructure was already here, so there was no need to move it outside.”

  “It is also safe,” Chastity said, mostly to herself.

  David nodded. “That too.”

  An interest in our economy, veiled with an irrelevant question, the Nameless thought. Good. She would not have asked if she had no interest in trade. From the look of things, an agreement might yet be made.

  When they reached the pillar, Chastity and her group were shown one of the elevators, which they all promptly stepped into.

  “We meet on the third floor,” the Nameless said before the contraption started moving. Hopefully, Chastity would be as direct during the negotiations as she was in expediting them.

  “Your ride, sir,” an operator said.

  The Nameless nodded, boarding it without a word. Rush and Emile followed him in, as did five of their finest guards. David would take another lift up.

  “Whaddaya think?” Rush asked once the door closed.

  “Absolutely nothing,” the Nameless said. “I look, listen, and stay vigilant. As should we all.”

  ***

  Rush was the first to speak when the elevator door opened. Her posture was tense, and a pair of veins jutted on her forehead.

  “Something’s wrong, Bones,” she said, and the entirety of their unit poured out the elevator, clutching their weapons. David’s group did the same, but more out of cautionary reaction.

  “What is it?” the Nameless asked, turning around with a pistol in each hand. “Do you see something? Hear?”

  “Is it ticking?” David asked from inside the elevator.

  “No…” Rush said vacantly. She took a step left, then two to the
right. Her head was raised high. Her nostrils contracted and relaxed.

  The Nameless sighed in relief. “It is alright, Rush.” He turned to the rest. “You can lower your weapons. There is no problem.”

  The glare Rush tossed his way could melt steel. “Something’s in the air, Bones. I can tell.” She kept pacing, pressing one hand against her temple and rhythmically tapping her fingers. “Gas, I think. Strange, strange smell.”

  “David and SIM use some kind of breathable stimulant,” the Nameless said. He pointed toward room 1. “They keep it contained, but you can probably still smell it out here.”

  Rush turned to the pile of guards that flanked David. “That true?”

  “It is,” he said. “If I knew you’d have trouble with it, I’d have told you. Sorry.”

  Rush’s posture relaxed, but only marginally. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. When they opened up again, her expression was calmer, but the veins on her forehead still stood pronounced.

  “Are we moving along?” Chastity asked, she and her own retinue still inside their lift. The tone of her voice was as flat as it had been before.

  “We are,” David said, gesturing for everyone to proceed down the right hallway. The Nameless ordered the same, but Rush stayed where she was.

  “I will need you all to proceed without me, but only for a couple minutes,” the Nameless said. “I will be arriving as soon as possible.”

  Everyone nodded, then proceeded down the hallway, Emile included.

  I was right, the Nameless thought as he approached Rush. Men like Emile needed something to fight for. Deprived of purpose, they fell apart quickly.

  “I’m alright,” Rush said. “I just need to get away from this shit-gas.” She proceeded down the left walkway, and the Nameless followed.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t feel too well. Whatever this is, it’s giving me the sugar daddy of all headaches.”

  The Nameless didn’t need to look around to know where she was going. Without a word, he pulled out a set of keys and dangled it before her face as they both walked.

  “My man,” she said, grabbing them as they rattled.

  Their stride ended before apartment number 66, the Nameless’ old home. It had been a while since they’d used it, but he made sure to keep it as unchanged as possible.

  “Filtration’s good in this place,” she said as she pressed her back against the door. “Sorry I had to bail.”

  “No problem,” said the Nameless. “I will have to ask SIM what that stuff is.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” she said as she turned and unlocked the door. “I’m a freakshow, remember? Prolly just doesn’t mix well with the shit I got coursin’ through me.”

  Maybe, the Nameless thought as the lock clicked.

  “Now get back there,” she said as she opened the door. “You and me, we saved this place. Don’t let noodle-arms hog all the glory.”

  A faint smile flew over the Nameless’ face. He leaned in and their lips touched for a moment. “No, I will not.”

  Rush stepped back, closing the door. Judging by the sound that followed, she tossed herself on the bed within seconds.

  Time to get things done. The Nameless set course toward the meeting room. Hopefully I did not miss anything important.

  Chapter Ten

  By the time the Nameless reached Room 26, a conversation was already taking place. As he opened the door, though, he learned that it was altogether different than what he had expected.

  “What is this thing doing there?” Chastity was pointing at SIM, who didn’t as much as raise an eyebrow. No weapons were drawn, but the resentment was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  “He helped me escape the Underbelly,” the Nameless said, slamming the door as he walked up to the large, round table they all gathered around. “Remember? Back when I killed your savior?”

  The nun’s expression remained the same, but the way her retinue stared at him told him all he needed to know. He didn’t need to look at David; there was no doubt he was angry at this intrusion. No matter. This woman dared lash out while she was a guest. She needed to be put in her place.

  “He also tried to deactivate the bombs you had set up around New Orleans,” the Nameless continued. “From what we all know, he did not succeed.”

  Emile clenched his fists. “Murderers, the lot of you! You think there’s redemption for what you did?” He fought the urge to lean over the table. “No god will forgive you, in this world or the next!”

  David sighed. It was obvious that he wanted this done differently. However, the chips were down. Might as well play. “This man has been an immense help to us, and ever since he arrived here, he has done nothing but improve our quality of life.” He put his hands on the table. “Unlike you, who seemed more keen to either conquer or flat-out murder us. Now go ahead and tell me I’m not right.”

  The corners of Chastity’s lips turned down for a split second, then returned to their usual, neutral position. Still standing straight, she removed her shades and placed them on the table. She let everyone have a good look at her eyes. Like with all other Saints, they were silvery, almost as shiny as chrome.

  “Though few of you have ever seen these eyes,” she quickly glanced at the Nameless before turning back to Torres, “they are a mark of the Chosen. Among all those who knelt before the Holy One, only a handful were infused with a piece of the divine spark they bore. And among this small group, I was the first.”

  Despite her apparent lack of emotion, a single tear rolled down her cheek. “We were to be the Holy One’s representatives in this world of mortals. Help bring forth true faith. True order. True harmony, and unity with the divine. Heaven on earth was not only possible, but we would help make it happen.”

  “Jawohl, mein Fuhrer!” Emile shouted in badly pronounced German.

  “Jawohl, indeed,” Chastity said, now looking at the black priest. “We were naïve at first, and didn’t realize just how broken this world had become. Oh, the faithful definitely flocked to us, but what we got was not nearly enough to bring our gift to the whole continent. If we were to ever succeed in our mission, our heavenly quest, we had to pick up our pace.”

  Emile snorted. “So you started calling for genocide.”

  “Not exactly,” Chastity said. “Well, not initially, at least. We needed allies, and the Skulls were the logical choice. Their members were of mostly Christian background, and for the most part avoided raiding our territory. But their leader was a complete monster, and working with him was impossible.”

  “I know you had him assassinated,” the Nameless interrupted. “In his place you put the Boneslinger, who worked to advance your agenda. A hound with a long leash. I have told this to everyone. You are telling us nothing new.”

  Chastity paused for a second. “Then you understand what I am trying to say. The True Church of America you all know is not what it was back when we formed it. First and foremost, we wanted to help people. And we did. But as time passed, so did we learn more and more about the world outside our walls, and our despair only kept growing.

  “Complete moral collapse. Corruption and violence. Death and despair. Could we sit quietly and allow all that suffering to go on? While we had the power to try and do something about it?” She pointed at the Nameless. “You know well what I am talking about. We had the power to try and end all suffering. We had to at least try.”

  “And so you did,” SIM interrupted. “The results were… more than amusing.”

  “I refuse to talk to this monstrosity!” Chastity said without looking at him.

  “I am the monstrosity?” SIM asked. “You say you wished to extinguish everything bad from the world, yet you didn’t bat an eye when your Holy One stepped into the dungeons to torture me.” His eyebrow twitched, but he kept smiling. “Again and again and again.”

  “He isn’t human,” Chastity said, pointing at him. “Never was, and never will be.”

  “So I am an animal?” SIM asked. “Okay, I
can work with that. Did you torture dogs as a child, Chas? Cats, rabbits, and other small mammals? Going by this logic of yours, that would be acceptable.”

  Chastity went silent. The way her nails moved across the table’s surface, she seemed ready to start scratching.

  “He’s right, you know.” David said. “SIM might be a man-made man, but he does feel pain. And from what we know of your order’s history, your Holy One had our associate here in captivity long before you all went militant.”

  Chastity sighed. “You might be right.” The way she said it caused the pair of priests at her sides to exchange glances. The security didn’t seem to react. “Regardless of what I think of this… thing, I should have smelled the little speck of rot in time. If the Holy One was capable of such cruelty, what else were they capable of?” She lifted her arms off the table. “But that’s all in the past. No way to change any of it.”

  “One thing we agree on,” SIM said.

  “To cut it short,” Chastity concluded, “we’ve wandered off the path. We stared into the abyss, and before we knew it, we were the abyss. For our hubris, we were punished, and now we stand before you, ready to work together for the good of the people.” She turned to Emile. “All people.”

  “I barely have a ‘people’ anymore,” Emile ground through his teeth.

  “For what it’s worth,” Chastity said, “I swear I didn’t know. And even if I did know, I spent the majority of the war under what you may call ‘house arrest.’”

  “I can attest to that,” the Nameless spoke. “While I was hiding among the Skulls, I had glimpses into their internal workings. As far as authority goes, Chastity here had none.”

  David seemed to consider his words. He looked at the nun. “I’m listening. We all are.”

  “In essence, Governor,” Chastity said, “the White City is severely lacking in food. We are, however, stocked full of valuables and high-quality crafts, and we are willing to trade.”

  David scratched his chin. “You didn’t seem to have that problem back during the war. It’s been a year. You should’ve been able to restock what you spent.”

  “The White City did not practice agriculture,” Chastity said. “It does now, of course. Or at least tries to. But back while we had the Holy One, we also had Magdalena the Ripe.”