His voice tailed off. No one in the congregation moved. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but I could see the look on Randall’s face.
“Hun, what is it?” I asked.
“I should have known,” he said, turning to me.
“What?”
He sighed, looked around, and then shrugged. “When I was in the Air Force... the crews that flew over ‘Nam... they didn’t just spray Agent Orange.”
“It’s ok Hun, it’s...”
“No. No Izzy, it’s really not ok,” his eyes were ablaze. “Some of the stuff we sprayed was... it was this stuff that made you see things. It was the CIA. We all knew it. They were experimenting with LSD and mind control and weird stuff. They were doing it all through the sixties.”
“So?”
“So if what Dad and this Celus are saying is right, the Man knew that ‘Nam was ending and that they wouldn’t be allowed to experiment on Charlie... so they found the next best thing.”
“Us?”
“Uh-huh. But this mystical stuff, I ain’t so sure. Hell pretending to be Heaven?”
“Well it figures, doesn’t it? The Man ain’t God fearing. Maybe they’ve always... you know. Been for the other side.”
Randall shrugged. “Maybe. But I gotta know Izzy. I gotta.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
Similar conversations seemed to be going on around the pavilion, but no one left.
Dad had sat down, obviously exhausted. Sensing that a consensus was forming he motioned to Marcy who began to prepare the Eucharist. As Dad stood to begin, we followed. We were all in this together.
When the time came, I drank deeply, and Dad began to intone whatever strange incantation it was that he had been taught. We all felt it. The cool wave of air, the popping of our ears... and then we were there. At the bottom of the hill, looking up. I half turned. Randall was there, gathering the boys to him. Everyone else seemed accounted for.
Dad was just a little way ahead, Celus and the other one with him. He had been awfully quiet the whole time.
“Come on,” Celus said to us all. Marcy and Celus’ friend were helping Dad down the hill. None of us dared look up at the tree.
Celus came past me, leading us down the gentle slope, and around the outer edge of some woods. Although I had always heard the sea in the background, this was the first time that I saw it, realising that we were actually on a low cliff. The ocean was dark, but below the surface I could see the silhouettes of immense creatures dancing in predatory union, bringing black swells to the surface. The waves seemed to lap and crash against the shoreline with a greasy slopping sound that I hadn’t appreciated before.
The sky was a low violet, and heavy clouds skittered ominously overhead. I had never thought what else there might have been in that place where me and my God communed, but I’m sure that if I had, this is not what I would have imagined.
We followed Celus across the undulating terrain, and as we crested a rise he stopped, the people fanning out on either side of him. We gasped at what lay before us. A city of almost unimaginable proportions.
The entrance seemed to be through an old castle, the kind I had seen in medieval European history books when I was a child. But this quickly gave way to something far greater, as though it was a shadow of a shadow, being cast in the late evening. It was so long, like some invisible hand was pulling it taut.
The walls slipped around the perimeter at odd angles, and the city itself seemed to consist solely of bizarre towers. Each of these skyscrapers appeared to have been hewn from a single piece of rock, piercing upwards from the ground below, splitting and rupturing the rotten soil like the exit wound of some cosmic bullet. Some of the towers had what looked like metal cladding fitted as an afterthought, and even from this distance I could see some sort of engraving on them.
The breeze from the sea carried the smell of salt, but underneath it lay something else. Something pervasive and rotten, almost like bleach and vinegar had been mixed together and then forgotten about for many years. It caught in the back of my throat, and I gagged involuntarily as the smell came again, stronger this time. My eyes began to well up and, wiping the tears away, I noticed that I wasn’t alone in my reaction.
Despite the breeze, it was hot and humid. I could feel the heavy atmosphere pushing up against me as if it was trying to find a way in through my pores. The air was thick with the grease of the ocean spray, and I could already see a thin grey film on my exposed arms. It was sticky to the touch and had the faint musty smell of an aged and crumbling relative.
Celus turned to look at us. He didn’t have to say anything. No God of ours lived here. This was a place of the damned and the fallen. His friend remained silent, but his eyes were as wide as ours. I had the impression that this was his first time too.
Celus turned to him. “And Greine beheld the glory and wonder of the Heavens,” he half whispered.
His friend simply nodded.
*
[Maiden Castle Stele 38]
Danu told Greine of a gathering force of Ghazal, marshalled by a forgotten Sky Lord, on the borders of Nod, and Greine gathered one-third of his army to meet them there.
So did Greine and Celus behold the multitude of sinners and usurpers, and fell upon them with righteous fury. The might of The Army of Danu drove the abominations back to the sea, and Greine, in his blood rage, followed them in.
The most powerful Ghazal took Greine, and dragged him down many fathoms, fighting and warring as only the Just and the Sinner can.
Fatally pierced, the Ghazal blew his last breath into the Champion’s mouth, that the veil before his eyes may be lifted. And Greine beheld the glory and wonder of the Heavens in its true form.
Brave Celus saw Greine being pulled under the waves and dived into the sea. He returned his king to the land and sought his well being.
“Be at ease old friend,” Greine smiled, “for I have seen the true nature of Heaven, and it is mighty for those that are of virtue in the eyes of our Goddess.”
*
Celus turned to Dad. “Have you seen enough?”
Dad shook his head. “What... what’s down there,” he asked, pointing towards the citadel before us.
“Nothing good.”
Dad looked at him hard but said nothing.
“What have we done, Jim?” I couldn’t see her but it sounded like Marcy. Her voice was strained as if she were on the edge of tears.
Dad sighed. “There is always a cost. Always a price to pay. This is mine.”
“You didn’t know,” Celus said. “There are plenty of others who have done far worse. Some pay with their lives. Some pay with their families.” He shot his friend a look. “Others pay a far higher price.”
Silence fell slowly over us again. Even the children were quiet.
Randall stepped forward. “What is it? What is this place?”
Celus shrugged. “Have you ever known someone who was just bad news? And it didn’t matter how much you tried to change your ways and do the right thing, that someone always brought you back... always brought you down, until you were doing the things you promised you’d never do again.”
Randall nodded, as did several others. We had all known someone like that at one time or another. Someone who turned us into someone we didn’t want to be. Most of us had been lucky and severed the tie.
“That’s what this place is,” Celus continued. “You can only be one way here. And it isn’t the way you want to be.”
“Is it Hell? Are we in Hell?” It sounded like Marcy again.
Celus shrugged again. “Depends on your definition, but...”
“Does the Devil live here?”
Celus half chuckled. “You people and your labels. Yeah, I guess you could say that the Devil lives here.”
“It is safe? For us I... I mean?” Dad asked.
Celus looked about him, and then down towards the obscene fortress before us. “Yeah. Looks like it. The Devil isn’t home right now. You’d know
if She was.”
“I want to go inside.” It was the first time I had heard his friend speak. He was British too, but his accent was clipped.
“I’m not sure that’s such a...” Celus began.
“Why not?” Randall asked. “If the Devil is not here...”
“Because it doesn’t work like that,” Celus snapped. I had the sense that he was being pressed for answers he didn’t want to give. But we had followed him and Dad this far, and we needed to know the truth.
“She... She has... you saw Congressman Ryan’s aides? There are more of them. Thousands. Maybe even millions. And they all serve Her.”
“Are they here?” Marcy again.
“They’re always somewhere,” Celus half-whispered and looked at his friend in a rather pointed way.
“So what was in the tree? What was it we all saw and felt?” Marcy asked.
“I won’t tell you that I have all the answers,” Celus said, “but what you see is what you need to see. You feel... what you need to feel. It tells you that you are tiny and insignificant, but you are important to It. Isn’t that right Jim? You see what you need to see?”
Dad looked at him but said nothing. He didn’t need to. We all knew those words.
George laughed sarcastically. “Vanity,” he said to Celus. “Hers and yours.”
We stood for some time on that rise, taking it all in. I could see that Dad was shaken. He had promised us Heaven on Earth. Our own Eden. There didn’t need to be a vote to know that no-one wanted this - the abomination of desolation.
“Are there others?” Dad asked.
Celus looked to him. “How do you mean?”
“Are we the only dupes? Or have... have there been others?”
“You aren’t the first. You won’t be the last.” Celus nodded.
“Did... did they know? Did they learn the truth?”
“Some did... not all...”
“And?” Dad asked
“And what?”
“Where are they now?”
Celus frowned. “Jim, I don’t understand. What is that you’re asking?”
“Are they down there? Are there lost souls... trapped down there?”
Celus looked about him again. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s difficult to say. I don’t think so. I’m guessing it’s still early here.”
I followed his gaze, not understanding what he meant. The sky was darkening. Night was falling. How could it be so late?
George spoke again. “Celus, he’s saying that if there are people there, then we need to get them out.”
Celus looked at his friend, and then back to Dad. “If there are people down there... they won’t be in any state to be moved out. Whatever chance they’ve had has been and gone.”
“I still want to go down there,” George said. “I need to see what is on that metal cladding. It maybe the scripture of the Third Twine.”
This made no sense to any of us.
“Care to explain that?” Randall asked.
George looked to Celus, and then to Randall, but said nothing.
Randall tried again. “What have you done that you need to be here with us?”
George remained silent. When he eventually spoke, his voice was strained. “I... I’m not sure. But I think I need to undo it.”
“That’s not an answer.” I could hear Randall was getting angry, and I put my hand on his arm to calm him.
“It doesn’t matter,” Celus had stepped between the two of them. He turned to his friend. “You know this is a long shot?”
George just nodded.
Celus looked at Dad. “I can send you back. I can send you all back. This isn’t your fight.”
“The... the hell it isn’t... I... got a wrong to right... to be here.”
The crowd all seemed to mutter in agreement. Whatever we had all been tricked in to worshipping... we knew that we didn’t yet have all the answers. And we really needed to know.
Celus looked uncomfortable. He had clearly never planned to bring this many people along, let alone take them all into whatever bastion of corruption lay before us.
“Let me at least send the kids back,” Celus implored. Despite Dad’s glowing character reference, he was looking increasingly out of his depth.
Dad nodded. “Uh-huh... ok”.
The whisper rippled through the congregation and the children were brought forward. Some of the older congregation volunteered to go as well, to look after them back at Jonestown. In total, nearly four hundred came forward, but I could see that Celus was still looking nervously at the size of the remaining crowd. There were still too many for his liking.
The returnees were led back around the edge of the wood, out of sight. Our eyes followed them for as long they could, and we heard a soft wumpf followed by a bright glow. A wave of cool air rushed forward to meet us, giving a temporary respite from the sticky heat.
A few minutes later Celus returned.
“That was it?” Randall asked.
Celus nodded.
His friend looked at Celus and smiled. “You’re looking worried Old Man.” I wondered again at the relationship between these and the connection with Dad. It all seemed to be upside down.
Again, Celus said nothing, seeming to be contemplating his next course of action.
“You’re sure you want to go in?” Celus said eventually, looking at Dad.
“I’m sure.”
Celus looked nervously back towards the citadel. From the ridge, it looked empty, completely deserted. Not a light flickered and not a sound was heard.
“Ok,” he said. “We should form up. Maybe some lines.” He started to direct people. “That’s it. Ten lines. No, make it eleven. Right, the rest of you fall in behind.”
His voice had taken on a military tone that I recognised in Randall. Whoever this Celus was, he was clearly a man of many layers.
“Ok... can you all hear me?”
There was a murmur of assent across the crowd.
“Right... this place... it should be empty... but you never know. If you see anyone - I mean anyone at all - you need to let me know. Just send word up the line. But do it quietly. Ok. So, stay together, and stay quiet.”
The lines began to advance towards the citadel.
“Did what he said make any sense to you?” Randall muttered. I could see that he was itching to get in and start exploring, but also relieved that the boys had been sent back. “You know the whole ‘worry if you see anyone...’”
I looked up at him. “I think we’re through the looking-glass. Anything could be down there.”
He didn’t smile.
The field sloped down towards what looked liked the castle gateway of the citadel, and we covered the ground in a matter of minutes. Stopping at the entrance, Celus looked about, making sure we were all together. We were.
The portcullis was up and for the briefest of moments I fancied that it was the gaping maw of some primitive beast, ready to slam shut at any moment. We entered as silently as we could, crossing a muddy courtyard, and into the fortress proper.
From this vantage point, I could see that the towers looming high above us were not straight, but twisted like corrupted roots, and little tendrils jutted out madly, like some giant Virginia Creeper.
There seemed no organisation to the layout of the city. Paths zigzagged and snaked and in and out of each other. Wide avenues would narrow without warning until we could pass only by a single file, and trails would finish abruptly in dead ends. The whole maddening place had a sense of confusion and frustration about it and, whatever effect it was having, was not limited to me. I heard previously level-headed folk getting ratty with each other, snapping and using the kind of language I hadn’t heard in a long while.
You can only be one way in a place like this…
Progress was slow, and the shadows continued to lengthen. I heard Celus whisper to his friend that they had done enough, that it was time to go. The reply he got was short and curt.
Desp
ite the sense of abandonment, there was no rubbish or any impression that the inhabitants had left in a hurry. Some of the towers seemed to wear a coat of an ivy-like plant, but there were no signs of weeds or any other growth on the ground. We made our way deeper into the city, towards a cluster of towers with the metal cladding. The glowing embers of the dying sun reflected off them, and for a while, the city was better illuminated.
The paths all appeared to be formed of the same dusty compacted mud, and they reminded me of the Kaituma airstrip, dry and cracked, but solid. Had the paths been straight, we could have been able to cross the city in under an hour. But with the myriad of forks, blind alleys, and the constant twisting, it took us more than two hours to get close to the towers Celus’ friend wanted to see. There was a constant need to stop and make sure that we had everyone with us, and as we entered one of the many squares, I saw the sun beginning to slip below the horizon.
“Hmm...”
I turned to Randall. “Hun?”
He wasn’t listening to me.
“Celus,” he shouted his whisper, beckoning the man over. “Have you been here before?”
Celus looked awkward. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Yes and no. But mainly no.”
Randall was a man used to direct and clear answers, and I could see by the look on his face that he was not in the mood to play games. “What is this place?” He asked again.
“Everyone has a different name for it...”
“Cut the crap...” Randall snapped, far too loudly. Everyone was had stopped talking and was looking at us. “Where are we? Are we still on Earth?”
“You’re asking questions with very complex answers.”
“Try me.”
“Yes. No... It’s not your Earth.”
“Uh-huh. Then why are the stars the same?”
“What?”
“You’re telling us we’re in some parallel universe or Hell or something. But look at the constellations. They’re the same. We’re still on Earth,” Randall pointed to the darkening sky, where tiny pinpricks of light could be clearly made out of the clouds. “Orion. The Plough. Taurus. Cancer. Gemini. They’re all there. This is our Earth. Where have you brought us?”
A Gathering of Twine Page 33
