The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Vitranius has great knowledge, he thought I must find out how much, “what do you know about the creature?” he asked.

  The Holy Man could see that he was drawing Osh closer into his plan, he wants to know what I know, he is exactly what I need, “the entity that I have named the Guardian was created in the laboratories of the Overlords”.

  “The Overlords?”

  Again the High Priest laughed, “Perhaps I should start at the beginning”.

  “Yes that would be the best way”, Osh like all Callaxions was eager to obtain knowledge, it was a part of who they were, and it was their life. Their species were genetically structured to interface with the powerful Tollacian computers of the Outer Rim, the most advanced mechanisms ever conceived to store, file, and transfer information ever made. And Callaxions programmed them; it was therefore unthinkable that Osh would refuse to listen to the Holy Man as he now spoke to him. So he took a small sip of his wine and waited quietly for answers to fill his eager mind.

  Vitranius could see that he held his brethren in his hand, and knowing this made his tired heart beat like he was young once more, he is mine, he thought, I will use him to get what I want and when I am done he will be disposed of. What his mind was thinking did not show on the face of the High Priest for he had long been able to keep his thoughts to himself. It was one of the things that all speakers of the Gods had to learn and he had been that voice for a great many cycles.

  So he took another sip of his wine and continued to weave his plan into the mind of the old man, “long before the first Gathering, before the planets of the Outer Rim touched one another there was a race of beings so powerful that they worshiped themselves!”

  Chapter 24.

  Eyes in the darkness.

  Grana is the flesh of my body.

  Eat of it and be saved.

  But do not taste the forbidden salt.

  For in it is everlasting death.

  From the Book of Isarie.

  Egmar had heard that the mate of her son was gravely ill but she did not run to her side and say a prayer over her body or send any Handmaiden to comfort the King. It was not what the Holy Mother of old would have done but she was no longer that woman, now she was held tightly in the grip of an evil that had no name.

  She lay on her soft resting chair and in the dim candle light she listened to the gentle singing of her servants just outside her chamber, beside her on a low table was a golden bowl full of sweet fruit and beside it was a large cup of aged Po. She wore an embroidered robe of dark green set off with a large silver necklace, and on her scarred fingers were many rings set with precious stones.

  As she listened to the music sung by her Handmaidens her mind was filled with thoughts about her son and his mate, why should I care what happens to the half-soul girl, she is not one of the chosen and he is not my son. The Holy Mother slowly rose from her chair and began to move about the ornate chamber inside the great tent; she walked to a large wooden chest that had once belonged to Obec the last High Priestess of the Almadra. It had been stored away with other things that had once filled the chamber of the traitorous old woman but Egmar ordered that it should now be placed in her quarters.

  The chest itself was finely made with carved sides and lid with golden fastening at the corners, there was a large golden disk on the lid with the symbol of the twin suns Karus and Micos forged into it. If it was offered for trade it would bring a high price and its cost would be equal to many Sagar tooth necklaces and a large amount of Rimar horns.

  But Egmar did not see the worth of the chest she only saw the great black spider that now rested upon it, she watched its glowing red eyes as she drew near and then she bent down to whisper to her dark companion.

  “What have you brought me?” she asked with a smile for it was not her wish to have the great chest brought before her it was the will of the small demon. The black spider slowly moved across the top of the wooden box and down its side making a soft rattling sound as it did.

  “There is a great treasure inside waiting for you”, it spoke above the noise it made.

  The High Priestess bent her knee and taking the golden latch in her hands she lifted the heavy lid and looked inside. There was not much to see; just a few robes whose workmanship left much to be desired along with a pair of sandals that were much too small for Egmars feet. She lifted the garments and tossed them on the floor and took the sandals and threw them across her chambers.

  “baaa, there is nothing here”, she said angrily.

  But the spider moved up the side of the chest and into it then it crawled to one corner and tapped gently with one of its feelers on a small lever that could hardly be seen by the eye, “here, look here” it said.

  And heeding the words of her familiar she took her hand and lifted the small device, there was a “clicking” sound then a hidden chamber in the box opened up.

  The old witch had secrets, Egmar thought, then looking inside the Holy Mother saw a small silver container. Without stopping she removed the vessel and put it on the table near her resting chair, she sat down and looked at the small treasure that was now hers.

  In design it was not all that remarkable, just a box about a large as ones hand, there were no markings or inscription or any sign of a mystic symbol that might give some hint of what lay inside.

  Why would old Obec wish to hide this? She asked herself, but there was only one way to answer that question so she lifted the smooth lid and looked inside. Its contents brought a gasp from the Holy Mother for the container was filled with the forbidden crystal of Isarie.

  Tran, Obec was hiding Tran, Egmar had suspected that the old crone was prolonging her miserable life in some way but she never thought she used the glowing crystals, but now that she saw them she also realized that the forbidden mineral was now hers. Slowly she took out a pinch of the powerful crystals and held them in her thin fingers.

  The book of Isarie tells us not to partake of the crystal salt for in it is everlasting death, then she looked over at the spider that was now sitting close by her hand.

  “Isarie is a false God”; it spoke to her “for a greater one is coming”.

  And hearing this from the black creature she put the Tran into her mouth.

  Endo was not sure how long he rode in the back of the great wagon but he knew that he was now deep inside the earth. The air hung heavy with Eul dust and sweat, there was also a sweet sickening fragrance that the Sandjar knew very well.

  Death, he thought, this is the home of the dead. He could not see dead bodies but his nose told him that somewhere near was a feast waiting to be eaten. Humans had raised Endo but he was still a Scavenger and being so he could not drive certain instincts from his mind. And the one that Sandjar relied on most was their ability to find food, be it alive or dead it did not matter, rotting flesh or fresh meat it was all the same to them. Now that instinct was trying to take control of the green boy but he fought against it will all his might.

  I am not a savage! He screamed in his mind, I am a civilized being! And using all his intelligence he fought down the primitive instinct and focused his thoughts on what lay ahead.

  The Karrack continued deeper into the earth then Endo heard Norgonie guards shouting at one other, they barked orders that he could not make out and then the huge wagon stopped moving. The Sandjar boy waited for what seemed like an eternity then he again heard voices and more sounds from above then as he looked up he saw a large wooden ramp moving into view. He again waited then sounds of wheels moving and then a shower of Eul rock.

  It began to tumble into the wagons floor slowly filling it and sending up a great cloud of dark dust, at once the green boy began to cough as the choking powder entered his lungs. I must get out of here, he thought, if I do not I will be buried alive! So he began to claw his way up the side of the steel bin all the while watching it fill more and more with the black rock.

  Endo dug his powerful claws into the metal sides and managed to gain enough of a grip to allow
him to climb up to the rim, he carefully looked over and seeing no Norgonie close by he pulled himself over and dropped to the tunnel floor. Once there he again looked about then ran to a hiding place amid a structure of Balbar wood, he huddled there catching his breath and trying to figure out just what he had gotten himself into.

  I was a fool to come here, he thought, and a fool has no one to blame but himself.

  Then came a loud clanking sound that filled the air along with the barking of Drogs, there were also shouts from Norgonie guards and shrills cries as if someone was being beaten. From were he crouch he could not see much so he moved a quickly as he could to another vantagepoint, this one was several meter from last he stood and in a mass of metal container of some sort. He kept himself hidden in the dim shadows and moved once more until he could gain a clear view of the Karrak he had come in and the ramp that hung over head. When again he looked up he was astonished at what he saw.

  There in the dimly lit bowels of the earth were dozens of Sandjar.

  They were pushing and pulling metal mining carts filled with Eul, beside them at various points were Norgonie guards some holding whips in their hands while other held the chains of yelping Drogs.

  Slaves! Endo thought, they are using my people as slaves!

  The people of the forest were indeed using Sandjar as slaves and from their point of view they made the perfect workers, they were strong and with their keen eyesight they could work in the dim tunnels without a problem. They were also easy to feed for they ate most everything and would consume food that was rotted or unfit for a Norgonie, and most of all they were NOT the chosen of the Gods. And according to the teachings of Arm-Ra they were made to serve and when they died they had no soul to enter the Afterlife.

  But to Endo they were his brethren, maybe not a civilized or intelligent as him but still of the same species and knowing this made his heart ache when he saw them being treated in such a degrading way.

  I must help them, he thought, but I am just one and they are many, that was indeed true, for what chance did he have against armed warriors and savage Drogs? He would be killed or rip to pieces in an instant. So knowing this he shut his ears to the cries of his people and looked for a way back and into the sunlight. He moved out of the hiding place and carefully made his way around the filling Karrack and down a small adjoining tunnel.

  There was very little light there but his scavenger eyes adapted quickly and soon he could see as well as if the corridor was bathed in the glow of a hundred Washa’s. Soon the cries that had filled his small ears faded away and the tunnel grew narrower than before, water seeped from the walls and gathered on the floor in small pools and although he was thirsty he dare not drink the brackish liquid. Now relying on his directional sense he moved carefully trying to stay in the general heading of the way he came in. But try as he might he could find no corridor that would take him into the sunlight and soon he came to a junction in the travel way with many smaller tunnels running in different directions, he stopped moving and sat down on a large chunk of Eul.

  There must be only one way in and one way out, he thought, so without anything else to do he sat quietly and thought of what his father would do when he found out that his son was never going to return to their tent.

  But Osh never knew that his son was not at their wagon for he was still talking with a man who had lived many lives.

  “After all this time you have still not been able to decipher the language of the Overlords?” It was the old man who said this for Vatranius had told him that the secret to the power of the planet lies in solving the riddles carved into the stones gathered by him.

  “That is correct,” said the Holy Man, “and I will explain why”, and saying this he rose from the table where he and Osh sat and began to move about the room. “I call them the Overlords for I cannot find a word that would properly depict them, the closest I could ever come was “us’ or perhaps “we” for they considered themselves the only truly intelligent creatures of the Outer Rim”. He moved to a large stone carving near them, “you have seen these stones scattered over the lands of Gorn have you not?”

  “Yes I have” said Osh.

  “But have you ever been able to understand their meaning?”

  “No I have not, because no two have ever been alike”, replied the old man.

  The Holy Man nodded his large head, “correct, and I will tell you why, the Overlords communicated by a strong telepathic mind link and needed no words. This mind-link is also present in the indigenous humanoids of this world although to a much lesser degree.

  Osh nodded his head; it is one of the great strengths of the Nomads.

  “When they did set down their finding they used a written tongue of sorts, but each Overlord had their own language that was known only to them so when that information was transcribe it meant nothing to anyone else”.

  Yes that would explain much, Osh thought, then he realized something “but surely the Overlords did not write in stone, they must have use some highly mechanized form of mind transfer”.

  The High Priest smiled, “yes I am sure they did, and from what I have deduced they used much the same kind of Mindlock that we employ. Far more sophisticated of course but based on the same principle of brain impulses to data formatting. The stones were carved by others but I will explain that later”. Then he moved closer to his companion, “that is why I need your help”.

  “My help, but you were known as one of the great minds of the Outer Rim, why would you need my help?

  Vitranius sat down in his chair once more, “I have been here a very long time, and when I found that my life span was coming to an end I had two choices, I could die or consume the Tran and prolong my life but at a price”.

  “A price?” the old man asked.

  The High Priest face showed a slight smile, “consuming the Tran holds death a bay but it also diminished my mind power. Not so much as to make me a frail leg but enough to keep me from deciphering the complex writing that I gathered together, I made some progress but with each passing cycle I grow weaker. I am also sure in the ages that I have been gone there have been significant advancements in language deciphering and translations, I need your wisdom to continue my...our work, will you help me?”

  All his life Osh had interfaced with computers and calculating mechanisms of the Outer Rim and he understood their working and malfunctions, but they always spoke the truth to his mind. But he also knew that humanoids like him were capable of lying and his time with the Nomads had conditioned him to look into a person’s eye and know when he was not speaking the truth. Now as he looked into the eyes of the Holy Man he saw a mask of deception. “You said that you wanted to unlock the secrets of the Overlords so that you could become the wisest of all Callaxions, but I have found that great power only brings great tyranny”.

  “Then you will not help me?”

  Osh rose from his seat, “I cannot”.

  Vitranius did not show anger on his face, on the contrary he smiled, “very well, I had hoped we could work together in friendship but if that is not possible I will have you as my slave”. And clapping his wrinkled hands together he called out to a corner of the room that was in darkness, “take him to the catacombs”.

  And with those words Osh turned to see several tall Norgonie holy men coming forward and he knew that he was now a prisoner, but there was still defiance in the old Callaxion.

  “I have been in prison cells before, another will make no difference”, he said as he was being taken away, but for all his bravado he knew that he was just an old man in the hands of great power.

  As he watched Osh being taken away Vitranius again sat down and took a sip from his wine cup. I have waited a long time, he thought, I will not wait any longer.

  At the moment Endo would have traded all his knowledge for a good chamber rifle or even a warrior’s ax, alone in the darkness and without anyway of escaping he felt like his life was at an end.

  Why did I not listen to my fa
ther and stay by our wagon?

  But then as he wallowed in self-pity he picked up the strange sent that had first drawn him into the underground. He lifted his head and flared his nostrils trying to detect from where the odor originated, then after several lung full of the strange sent he detected that the smell was strongest from the tunnel on his left, so with no other plan he began to walk down the corridor. With every meter the odor grew stronger and he continued to follow it until he heard sounds coming from ahead, he moved to a corner in the tunnel and slowly looked around it.

  Before him lay a vast underground chamber, it was cut or a better word would be “mined” from solid rock, there were many different levels around the perimeter and at its center was a pit that seemed to vanish into nothingness. It was lit by many torches and firepots and in the warm glow could be seen hundreds of Sandjar slaves; they wore ragged garments that were torn and filthy with Eul dust and in their hands they held digging implements. And as they worked they made a mournful sound, it was a song that had no words but held a vast sea of pain and suffering, but to Endo it was as clear as the singing of the Handmaidens.

  They are without hope, he thought, they live only to die.

  After a moment he turned his eyes to his surroundings once more, he saw a narrow causeway running from the bottom levels to the top and this was used by the miners to push steel carts fill with the burning rock. The filled carts were moved along this pathway and into tunnels were they disappeared into the darkness.

  This must be the main supply shaft, Endo thought, from here they take the Eul to the great Karrack and then it is drawn to the outside.

  The Sandjar boy had heard how the Ergan-Mar, the Grana miners of Koto-Car dug for the precious green salt and then traded it to the Nomads for Stone bread and females. He also had listen to his father as he told him about the many different cultures of the Outer Rim and how they used workers to build their great civilizations. And he knew some of them used slave labor to accomplish that end, now he could see firsthand how the Norgonie would use him. Then he heard a noise from behind and in an instant he realized that it was the sound of warriors heading his way. There was only one thing for him to do now, so gathering up his courage he moved slowly into the great chamber.