Vee grunted to encourage him to continue.
In a lower, confidential tone the Pastor aid, “Rebecca, my wife has helped me to see the wrongness of consuming this source of meat, too, and I no longer do so. I have tried putting greater effort into our farming projects, but I tell you, our people crave flesh, and so it has been discouraging for me. In a former Damned city like Oblivion, before the Great Conflict, I understand that the citizens would sell their own bodies as meat for money. But the citizens here will not subject themselves to that pain and humiliation, when there are what they feel to be lesser beings for consumption.”
“You said money. In Hell?”
“Oh yes, and we have our own currency here in Lose Angeles, too.
Religion and money are the sturdiest foundations of society, Rebecca.”
Vee didn’t know if Johnston were speaking ironically, or with conviction. He continued. “In search of a solution to this issue of cannibalism, I even had a number of Demons of various species captured, with the thought of harvesting their meat instead, but the citizens overwhelmingly refused to try Demonic flesh. The same goes for my efforts to have palatable raw matter composed by some of the equipment that was once used to mass produce Demons, hoping that without having to see a Demonic body in their mind’s eye the people would be willing to try it, but again my idea was met with almost unanimous rejection. These attempts to turn our people away from eating these poor Damned souls have only increased the criticism I suffer, and so to remain an effective leader I’ve had to give in to the will of the people on this issue.” Johnston spread his hands open in a gesture of helplessness.
Vee conceded begrudgingly, “Well, at least you’ve tried. But you shouldn’t stop trying.”
Johnston cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at the woman opposite him, obviously taking another measure of her. “You might still be a scrapper, but you’re far from the girl I remember, after all. You were once as fervent as the strongest of my critics—as fervent as your father, who was against the idea of exonerating the Damned. Poor Karl would never have approved of my taking a Damned woman for a wife. No, that would be unthinkable to him.”
“But you two were great friends, I hear.”
“Yes, of course, but we did have our areas of disagreement, to be sure.”
Vee pointed to the computer on the Pastor’s sizable desk. “Do you access the Mesh?”
Johnston looked to the device, smiled, and said, “Yes, I do, Rebecca.
In fact…” He rose enough from his chair to turn around and part the neat line of hair at the base of his neck, revealing a small orifice lined with a black rubber collar. Sitting back down again, he said, “I’ve had myself jacked, so I can interface with the Mesh directly. We have some very talented Demon surgeons in captivity, here, and some of us have begun entrusting them to jack us into the Mesh. Again, something that has brought its objections, but we must look to the future, as I say. We must not be content with our safe little life here on levels 7 and 8 when there is a whole gigantic Construct above and below us still filled with resources we could use, and more importantly, more souls we could save. Do you know there are some Angelic enclaves that have thus far preferred to remain autonomous? Schisms, I suppose you could think of them, some almost hostile to us while others are little more than rumors to us. But I feel we should not stop reaching out to them! And then there are the Damned in their settlements, too.”
Vee nodded, her eyes still on the computer. More cables than seemed necessary, or logical, ran into the top and back of the bulky thing, some as thick as her wrist. From the back anyway it looked identical to the machine that she had inadvertently used to awaken Jay, and to unlock the door to escape from her prison.
“For instance, we are aware of one large colony on level 42, a group who call themselves the Enmeshed…”
“Just how many levels are there in the Construct?” Vee interrupted.
“Oh, we don’t know for sure; maybe two hundred or more. Some say three hundred. That’s another thing we should address, but which has been met with fearful resistance—more ambitious exploration. Anyway, from what we’ve gleaned from the Mesh ourselves, the Enmeshed are a primarily a group of Damned, but with Demonic members and even a small number of Angels included, who prefer to exist within the Mesh itself.”
“Really?” Vee said, interested. It reminded her of what Jay had said, about his own preference for existence, contentedly swimming as his albino dolphin avatar.
“It seems that at any given time, about seventy-five percent of the Enmeshed remain within the Mesh, while the rest see to their protection and other needs of the colony, and apparently they rotate positions—guard duty, as it were—every so many time periods. Anyway, I’m using the Mesh as a tool to reach out to these and other people who have access to the system. Of course, if the Enmeshed were to join forces with us they would have to eject the Demons amongst them, but otherwise I myself would welcome them with open arms.”
“Have you had any favorable response from them yet?”
“Well, no,” Johnston admitted, “but we are aware they’ve probed us via the Mesh, so I pray that at least some of them are considering us as a means of winning the salvation of their souls. At the very least, I would hope the Angels among them would come down here to us…or help see us safely up there.”
Vee nodded again, again conceded, “Well, I see you are thinking in some pretty new directions. But how do you think my father will react to all this if we can free him and bring him back here?”
Johnston smiled and lowered his eyes to his blotter, toying with a writing instrument. “Well, to be honest I don’t think he’ll be pleased by a lot of what he sees—we’ll certainly have some animated discussions, to say the least. Your father is a man of steadfast beliefs, which can be both a positive and a limiting quality…but, what can we do, Rebecca? Now that so many people have already heard he’s been discovered, through your arrival here, there’s great excitement.”
“I guess after all these years stuck here, anything would be exciting.”
“Life is always a challenging balance between change and stability, Rebecca.”
“So it would seem. Well, having been a televangelist, I hope my father will at least appreciate your efforts with the Mesh to some extent.”
“Yes, one can only hope.” Johnston spread his arms again. “So, you will want to lead our team to where Karl is being held, then, naturally.”
“Yes. I guess that’s what a good daughter would do.”
“Mm. Well, Charles wants to lead the expedition, and from what you told him about the way Karl’s body has been refashioned, we’ll send a pair of Demon surgeons along to help extricate him. Fred, here, will also go along to protect you, and protect your father on the return journey.”
Vee glanced at Johnston’s son with something like surprise; he had remained so silent that she had almost forgotten his presence.
“Thanks, Fred,” she told him.
Fred only nodded again in return.
Johnston asked, “Do you feel up to taking our team to your father now, or…”
“I guess now’s as good a time as any,” she told him.
“Well, you and Fred had best be going, then; Charles is waiting to take you.” Vee rose from her chair and started for the door, which Fred had opened for her, but Johnston called her back. “Rebecca, you told Charles your father wasn’t in a very good mental state.”
Lingering in the doorway, Vee said, “That’s right. I’d say he’s gone insane. Good luck to your Demon surgeons in extricating him from that.”
“Well, perhaps he’ll recover and recall himself. And I think you may recall yourself in time, too, Rebecca. What do you think?”
“I sure hope not,” she said, and then turned and was on her way.
17: THE DEMON WRANGLERS
Vee was surprised when Roper brought her back to the holding tanks where she had been briefly held, like a specimen pickled in formaldehyde, to
find Tim Wade among the team gathered to accompany them. He had an assault rifle cradled in his arms and a big grin on his face, though he hadn’t as yet noticed her approach. She was not surprised to see that two purple, winged Demons—one of them probably the same creature she had seen in the neighboring tank when she’d been interred—accompanied the group, knowing these were the surgeons (torturers, actually, Roper had explained) that would help free her father from the form he’d been rendered into. She was, however, shocked to see that one of the Demons had been forced onto hands and knees while Earl, whom she had briefly killed before, in one hand held a chain attached to the tight iron collar the entity wore, while in the other he gripped a pistol that he kept trained on the Demon. A third man, whom she didn’t recognize, knelt down behind the Demon, holding onto its folded wings, his pants lowered to reveal white, stubbly buttocks that pulsed as he roughly copulated with the creature, though Vee couldn’t be sure if he had entered a vagina, anus, or some other orifice. Without a mouth, the creature made no protest. Even if it had, the sound might have been drowned out by the encouraging shouts from Tim and Earl. The second Demon stood off to one side motionless, the end of its chain secured to the catwalk railing. Both Demons wore cuffs around their wrists, these attached to their collars by another length of chain.
Tim’s grin turned to dismay when he saw that the others had arrived—
Vee, Roper, Fred Johnston and two impassive Celestials. Vee didn’t know if it was her presence, or that of Roper or Fred, that caused the grin to go out of him. He nudged Earl, who looked over and smiled like a boy caught teasing the family cat. “Johnny,” he said to the man violating the Demon,
“hey, that’s enough, man!”
The young man he addressed looked up, gave a boyish grin of his own, and slipped out of their captive. As he rose and tugged up his white pants, Vee saw the pink indentations on his knees from kneeling on the grated catwalk, and his bobbing erection smeared with a thick white fluid.
Fred Johnston snapped, “You disgraceful, Demon-fornicating morons!”
“Hey, only Johnny was fornicating with the Demon, sir,” Earl explained. “You got to forgive him; he was raised on a farm.”
Fred hardly looked amused, but Roper couldn’t resist a laugh.
“Johnny, in life every sheep in Tennessee must have trembled at your name.” To Vee, the security commander explained, “Johnny here died back in the Civil War, the Battle of Bull’s Gap, 1864. A good ole Confederate boy. And you sure do love those bulls’ gaps, don’t you, Johnny you sick pup?”
“Sir?” the former rebel soldier said, confused at the pun..
Earl gave the Demon’s chain a tug and it moved a little unsteadily as it rose and went to stand by its partner. Vee admired the being’s compo-sure, but then the two Demons were not immortal as the Angels were and no doubt wary of being killed.
“I’m going to mention this incident to my father, Charles,” Fred said.
“I think you should train your men to conduct themselves with a little more dignity, and is this the best team you could assemble to come with us on a mission like this?”
“Well, Fred, Johnny here is one of our best Demon wranglers, and he’s also one of my best snipers. Tim is Rebecca’s former fiancé, as you no doubt know. And Earl was a tunnel rat in Nam; used to go down there with just a flashlight and a .45. These men might be bad boys, but they’re definitely bad asses.”
“Yeah, I know, Earl’s so good that he got himself killed in one of those tunnels,” Fred remarked.
“Hey, sir,” Earl spoke up in his own defense, “do you know what the survival rate was for us tunnel rats?”
“No need to get your daddy worked up over this, Fred,” Roper said.
“Like Earl says, for Johnny we’ve got to make an exception—this poor inbred rebel doesn’t know any better.”
“And these other men who were encouraging him?”
“We just couldn’t believe he was doing it, sir,” Tim said meekly.
Vee had noticed the blatant bulge in the front of Earl’s pants. Tim carried his assault rifle low, maybe to hide one of his own. Fiancé? she thought. What was I thinking?
Johnny retrieved his helmet from where he had set it down and lowered it onto his head. Up close now, Vee noted that the helmets were fashioned from sutured plates of bone, like a second skull. Across the front of his, above the eye holes, Johnny had painted a crude Confederate flag.
Earl donned his own, across the front of which he had simply painted REBORN TO KILL.
“We got to let Johnny get out his gay tendencies, anyway,” Earl joked, his voice distorted, as he adjusted his helmet’s fit.
“Hey,” Johnny protested in his own muffled voice, “that thing ain’t a man! I don’t see no pecker on it.”
“Don’t see no pussy on it, either.”
Vee looked back to the Demon, saw rivulets of white fluid slowly winding down its legs and realized Johnny had created his own orifice with the combat knife he wore on his belt. Both tall Demons were covered in old scars that looked like nicks and gouges, these having healed bright white against their glossy dark skin. The torturers given a taste of their own medicine, she supposed.
“Raping a female Demon would be okay,” Vee mumbled, “but let’s not rape a male Demon—what a sin.”
“It’s bestiality, and much worse,” Fred fumed. “And we need these things healthy, anyway, so they can help us, not cut up by you lunatics.”
“Won’t happen again, Fred.” Roper slapped him on the arm as he moved past to collect his own gear.
Fred said, “Can we suit up a little faster and be on our way?”
“Where’s my gun?” Vee spoke up.
“I got it for you here, ma’am,” said Johnny the Demon wrangler. He moved off to one side, returned proffering Jay in both hands.
“Did you try out that critter, too, Johnny?” Earl teased. “You stick your willy in that sweet little mouth?”
“Hell no! This thing ain’t sexy like those purple things is.” He snorted. “But yeah, I test-fired the thing. I thought maybe it wouldn’t let me use it, but looks like it can’t stop anybody who wants to trigger it…or trigger itself when it wants to, neither.” He passed the short, snub-nosed bone rifle into Vee’s hands. “It’s a lot of fun.”
Vee looked down at the gun and saw its red eye roll to gaze up at her, too. She murmured to it, “Don’t worry, Jay, I think you’re sexy.”
“Thank you, madam,” the weapon whispered hoarsely.
“Sure you wouldn’t want one of these instead?” Earl asked, showing her his own weapon, inspired by an earthly original. “M16A1, with a thirty round mag,” he slapped it, “and a 40mm M203 grenade launcher under the barrel. Very sweet.”
“Madam,” Jay whispered again, “as a firearm myself, I have amassed some weapons information that has been introduced into the Mesh, and it has been cautioned that the M203 grenade launcher can have a bad firing pin that can cause misfires.”
Vee had to smile. “Don’t be jealous, Jay,” she told him quietly, “I’m not going to trade you in.”
“Oh, and here’s this, too,” Johnny said, handing over her pouch of spare magazines.
“Are we ready to march or what? ” Fred asked.
“All set, Fred,” Roper assured him, picking up a helmet for himself,
“all set.” Coming close to Earl and Johnny, Vee heard the security commander hiss in a less jovial tone, “Don’t you dipshits embarrass me anymore in front of this guy, all right? Let’s just do this.”
Tim could barely meet Vee’s eyes, and covered his head with his own helmet, its front decorated with a cross rendered in gold paint.
Johnny fetched two pouches apparently made of stitched human or Demonic skin, resembling her own, and hung them around the neck of both Demons so that the pouches rested between their folded wings. No doubt, Vee thought, the implements of their diabolic surgeries. Then, Johnny took the chains of both Demons and gave them a bit of a y
ank to get the creatures moving. Watching them, Vee again respected the wounded one for bearing its pain so well. Though the Demons didn’t regenerate like the Angels and Damned did, they still healed quickly, and she didn’t doubt this was a recurring indignity. Should she pity them, though, when their fellows had spent innumerable years torturing her?
As the Demons were brought past Fred’s Celestial warriors, the two pairs of manufactured organisms seemed to eyeball each other with wariness or restrained hostility, but it was hard for Vee to tell, the eyes of the mute Celestials being so flat and lifeless, and the Demons having no faces but for those golden eyes. She had to agree with Johnny on one thing: the naked Demons, as unearthly as they were, had an hypnotic beauty, particularly in their graceful, androgynous forms. More human-looking though they might be, she found the Celestials more unsettling.
They began their march, and their path took them onto an adjoining catwalk that passed through a threshold and out into the open city itself, which spread dizzily above and below them. A flurry of Essential Matter was falling from on high, like radioactive fallout, and Vee observed that citizens and shopkeepers were almost urgently sweeping it into piles and burning it, as if it were autumn leaves. As if destroying evidence.
18: THE ELEVATOR
The high catwalk finally led them through another threshold, and the sounds of the bustling city faded behind them. The party had become subdued as they threaded their way through a series of paths like narrow chasms in a mountain range of machinery hulking in the gloom. Occasionally, Roper would wave to white-garbed soldiers perched above. Eventually, they came to one of the colony’s entrance points, demarcated by another series of those living severed heads hanging from long chains. She figured it must be the two Demons accompanying them that had capped the necks of the heads for their Angelic captors, to prevent the Damned from regenerating.
The Fall of Hades Page 9
