by N. J. Mercer
**
Johnny watched Orbok lift a pair of his four bulging arms, each larger and heavier than a man. There was a glowing fireball of energy taking shape within the palm of each hand, almost ready to be thrown at him and his allies. Straining to maintain his shield, Johnny did not doubt that the Demon King’s psychic weapons would obliterate this defence. He guessed that Orbok would first remove the shield, and once it was gone he would kill him and his friends with a single thought, sparing the girls to fulfil the Disciples’ dark purpose.
Johnny prayed to whoever might be listening for help. He knew that other life-forms opposed to the Demon King existed in this universe and many were as powerful as the deity; he also knew that such beings generally paid little attention to a planet like Earth. Here and now, it was only he and his friends who could confront this terrible being of Disorder. Already, Johnny had implemented all the psychic potential that lay within him, and it was nowhere near strong enough to overcome the enemy he now faced. He longed to manifest one final devastating attack that would stop the Demon King, Edward Devilliers and the mad cultists. To find a way, his thoughts moved back to Theodora’s mystic trance; it had taught him how his own limited perception, his inability to believe in what could be achieved, had stifled his psychic growth. He had put this lesson to good use in fighting Edward Devilliers and harnessed power he had never before known himself to possess; now, for the strength to defeat Disorder, he would have to look deeper, both into and beyond himself. He would need to fortify his psychic ability from elsewhere – but where? He knew the answer to this lay in the short time he had spent with Theodora – not the trance – in her words. In their brief meeting she had tried to impart as much of the weighty and profound knowledge that she possessed as she could. The depth of her understanding meant that it had been impossible for her to give him any specific advice so she had chosen to explain some essential principles central to her view of the universe; it was the best she could do in the limited time they had. It was up to Johnny now to meditate on what he had learned; he needed a moment of deeper insight to find the means to defeat Disorder.
Think, man; the answer is there. Think! What did she tell you? As he urged himself to recall the old woman’s lessons his concentration shifted away from the shield he projected and it wavered; he ignored this because he was on the verge of an epiphany. The old woman had spoken of the spirit that lay within the planetary sphere, how it was the source of all power and knowledge. “Earth is a living entity,” she had said. “There is strength that lies within it. When the time comes, harness it.” In this most desperate of moments the meaning of those words became clearer. So far he had been relying only on his own innate power; considerable though it was it could not compare to the might of the Demon King, who was a force of nature from another planet. Theodora, it seemed, was telling him of a more ancient force he could manipulate: the power within Earth. Johnny opened his mind to all the energy that resonated around him and entered the unknown; here he discovered what the old woman had called the ‘Earth spirit’. It was so vast and omnipresent that it escaped the notice of all besides those who specifically set out to seek it. A constant vibration that permeated every ounce of matter around him, he sensed its origins from deep underground, within the very substance of the planet – its presence suddenly seemed so obvious. Audaciously, he used his mind to move this energy. It required a technique that was very different from normal psychic manipulation. You could not force it with willpower, the Earth energy had to be harnessed by gentle coaxing. It was like directing a giant beast, he imagined an elephant, a creature so large that it could not be lifted or forced to go where one wished it to be. The trick was to persuade it to move of its own volition. With this in mind, Johnny attempted to direct the planetary force to act against the Disciples of Disorder and initiate the destruction that would end the evil of Orbok and Edward Devilliers.
So distracted were they by the Demon King and the confrontation that no one noticed the fine cracks that were forming in the ceiling and walls of the underground cathedral; no one except Johnny, who had caused them. The cracks widened and spread rapidly through the rock, and within seconds huge, gaping chasms had started to open up. Just before Orbok could launch the great balls of psychic power from his hands, he was knocked over by a massive section of falling ceiling. Tonnes of rock and earth poured into the cathedral chamber burying the deity and all those around him. Johnny’s companions looked on with relief and terror in equal measure. The debris moved as Orbok strained to lift the gargantuan piece of ceiling off his body; rubble tumbled away to reveal the demon underneath. His mighty muscles flexed against the weight, veins thicker than hosepipes bulged with the effort and he managed to free himself. Orbok stood once more; he was terribly injured, and black fluid oozed from multiple wounds all over his body.
Panic-stricken Disciples scattered everywhere as further cracks and fractures appeared in the chamber. More rock started to rain down; Devilliers watched in horror. It was no miracle that Johnny and his friends were spared from the cave-in; this was not a random collapse, this was a psychic phenomenon of higher purpose, a mighty living power acting under the guidance of Johnny M., Agent of the Equilibrium. So far, the orchestrated destruction was as Johnny intended, but already he sensed that this great force his mind wielded would slip out of his control at any time.
Johnny was barely able to move as he concentrated so deeply. He was only vaguely aware of what was happening around him. It was like viewing a distant movie projection: something far away with which he could not directly interact. He could just about see Sascha, Boyd and Baccharus watching in amazement at what was going on around them. He sensed their uncertainty regarding the origin of all the devastation they were witnessing. He saw Baccharus point at him eventually and heard his friends call to him; he did not dare respond. And when the realisation dawned on his companions that it was indeed he who had brought about the collapse and that he was not to be disturbed, he saw them turn away again. A few Disciples persisted in advancing on his friends, and they were caught either by Sascha’s gunfire or by falling rock. Johnny noticed a shadowy figure who seemed to be having a few lucky escapes from the collapse; he realised that it was actually Lord Arkkun warping randomly between energy states. In one instance, Arkkun just about avoided being crushed by a tumbling wall as his body flickered from solid to wave form. The wide scope of the destruction around him meant that it was only a matter of time before he was caught; in the end, a Gothic arch falling in on itself bisected him as he tried to escape the broken cathedral.
It was becoming increasingly difficult for Johnny to direct the destruction away from his friends. And even though he desperately wanted to urge them to escape he could not; to do so would break his concentration and cause him to relinquish whatever little control he maintained over the carnage, most likely killing them all in the process. It would be up to his friends to take the initiative and leave.
Chapter 44
With the enemy thrown into confusion, Boyd saw an opportunity to break cover and head towards the five archways; he still did not know which one would lead them to safety. He turned to Sascha to see if he had any ideas; his friend shook his head and told him that only Johnny knew the layout of the complex through the mind probe he had performed earlier. Boyd turned to Johnny and hesitated when he saw his glazed, unblinking eyes and the unnatural stillness with which he stood.
“Don’t disturb him,” whispered Baccharus. “I think it will be dangerous if we do.” Boyd did not argue with this advice. Johnny appeared completely cut off from the events around him: he was dwelling in a world of purely psychic perception. Boyd averted his gaze only when the mighty pillar that had been faithfully sheltering him and his companions slowly started to crack. He agonised over which way to turn next, unwilling to let his friends and the girls down. Just as he was about to select an exit at random, a voice from one of the arches drew his attention. He spun around. A beautiful woman dressed in the robes of
the Disciples with her hood drawn back stood in the third archway. She was beckoning and calling for him to follow her in a gentle voice that was barely audible over the din of destruction. Who was she? Her dress alone was good enough reason to be suspicious of her.
“Please, you must follow me; it’s a way out of here.” She was almost begging.
By now, Sascha too was aware of what was going on. “Who’s that?” he asked. They both looked into the pleading eyes of the woman in the archway, unsure what to do. Boyd turned away from her and looked back across the cathedral to see what the options were. The Disciples were now more concerned about their own survival and were ignoring the little group behind the pillar. They remained mostly on the other side of the hall and seemed to be scrambling over each other to leave through a broken doorway in the opposite wall of the cathedral; so dangerous was the route to this door that most of them did not make it. This did not deter the rest from also taking great risks to try to pass through it. That door must lead back to the surface, Boyd thought to himself. He turned around again; the woman in the arch was gesturing for them to come to her. Who is this Disciple? Why would she help us?
“Please follow her,” said a weak voice from near to him. Both Boyd and Sascha looked down abruptly; it was Rachel – she was awake.
“It’s my stepmother; you can trust her,” Rachel said feebly.
Boyd turned to Sascha and Baccharus; they nodded slowly. Rachel’s recommendation was all they had to go on.
Boyd and Sascha shepherded the three girls, who were all slowly regaining consciousness, to the arch through which their would-be saviour awaited them. Baccharus psychically shielded the group from the worst of the falling rocks. The Disciples were in too much disarray now to provide any real resistance, and those that did met a swift end from the revolver which had been returned to the hands of its original owner. It was the third arch through which they proceeded, and it led them into a large, undecorated stone room with a brazier in the corner beside which stood Elizabeth Devilliers. There were more archways in here, each with a flight of ascending stairs. “This is the way out,” she said, pointing to one of them.
“You stopped the Disciples from coming through the arches, didn’t you?” Boyd asked, finally understanding why they had not been surrounded as they hid behind the pillar. The woman simply nodded and gave him a serene smile. Sascha and Baccharus were already leading the girls up the staircase. “Come on, let’s go,” Boyd said to Elizabeth, expecting her to escape with them. Gracefully and without a word she shook her head.
“What? You can’t stay here!” Boyd argued, hoping that he might have misunderstood her intentions. Rachel, still looking groggy, returned to the foot of the staircase with Baccharus in swift pursuit, urging her to go back up.
“Mum, come with us,” she pleaded.
“No, Rachel. Go now; go with your friends and sisters. I belong here; I can’t live with the knowledge of what I have done. Go! All of you!” The room shook fiercely; its walls cracked and the ceiling started to crumble. It too was succumbing to the destruction and would not last very long.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” said Boyd, remembering the name of Martin’s sister; he did not want to think of her as Edward Devilliers’ wife. Elizabeth walked out through the archway. Baccharus and a distraught Rachel were already moving back up the stone stairs as they desperately tried to reach Sascha and the other girls. Boyd watched Elizabeth a little longer as she returned to the great cathedral hall. He saw her carefully pick her way through the broken masonry with purpose and wondered where she could possibly be heading. He frowned when he saw her objective; it was the High Lord of Disorder himself. As Edward Devilliers staggered about in disbelief at the ruins of his cathedral, Boyd raised his revolver. Devilliers was in his line of sight. He started to squeeze the trigger but released it when Elizabeth inadvertently blocked his view. Devilliers hadn’t seen Elizabeth yet, his form started to flicker momentarily, and it looked like he was going to warp away; Boyd cursed. At that very moment a section of falling balcony landed on Edward Devilliers, crushing the lower half of his body and pinning him to the ground. Boyd lowered his revolver. He heard Elizabeth scream, “Edward!” as she rushed to her husband. Devilliers was grimacing and barely alive when she reached him. Boyd could have sworn that he saw Edward Devilliers manage a smile at the sight of his wife. Elizabeth frantically tried to pull Edward Devilliers out from the rubble; it only caused him more pain so she stopped and instead placed her head on his chest. Tears streamed down her face and created channels in the dust that covered her cheeks. Gasping for breath, Edward Devilliers reached out with his hand and touched her face; he wiped away some of the tears before his body became suddenly still. Elizabeth remained with her husband, oblivious to all that was taking place. Boyd turned away to join his companions as they made their way to the surface; he could not bear to witness Elizabeth’s inevitable fate.
**
Since instigating the process of collapse, Johnny had barely moved, and his eyes stared unblinkingly into space. Controlling the Earth’s energy with his mind was like guiding an ocean liner with the rudder from a dinghy. He hoped that with most of the pillars gone it would not be long before the entire mass of earth above the complex fell in, covering the portal once and for all. Johnny had set in motion a chain reaction that was now out of his control. Finally, he broke his concentration and once again perceived the world through the five senses; he shuddered at the sight of Orbok, injured and very much alive. He could see that the Demon King had managed to free himself from the great section of ceiling and rubble that had threatened to bury him earlier. The wicked deity continued to be bombarded by tonnes of falling rock and earth. Orbok was badly hurt, and his once proud body looked soiled and damaged. Johnny thought he could sense Orbok drawing upon his psychic power to deflect further punishment; it must have been difficult, even for a creature of his incredible ability, because of the injuries he had sustained. The Demon King limped to the edge of the slowly spinning wormhole, determined to return to his own realm. He stepped onto the edge of the low wall, ready to leap into the tunnel of purple ether; just before he did so, he turned around to look Johnny straight in the eye. For an instant, Johnny felt himself linked to the great, boundless consciousness of this being; it caused him to gasp and stagger backwards. Orbok had allowed their two minds to become momentarily bonded, and once more Johnny felt removed from the world around him. His thoughts moving in parallel with Orbok’s, he could sense the Demon King was considering destroying him. As he readied himself for his final breath there was a last-minute reprieve, Orbok had experienced a brief vision of the future, a mere flash; it had given him a glimpse of Johnny’s destiny and it was tied to the way of Disorder. With the approximation of a smile upon his alien features, Orbok said something in the coarse tongue of Disorder, his deep bellowing voice drowning out the noise of the cave-in. The language meant nothing to Johnny, but he was still patched into Orbok’s great mind, and the alien being’s message found its way directly into his brain.
“We shall be avenged tenfold,” was Orbok’s final communiqué, and with what was definitely a wide leering grin, Orbok, Demon King, dived back into the wormhole. Johnny felt a jolt shoot through his head and down his spine as Orbok broke the psychic link. Why the link had been initiated in the first place, Johnny did not know for certain. Maybe it was how Orbok would have killed him, joined to his victim’s mind so he could feel his death first-hand, or maybe it was just how he communicated – it would have to remain a mystery. Johnny watched the dimensions of the Demon King’s body warp and twist until he became a narrow thread of light, rather like Martin’s dead body had, and then Orbok disappeared altogether. As soon as he was gone, the collapse of the massive cathedral hall accelerated, confirming to Johnny that Orbok had been resisting the power of the Earth energy with his own will and slowing the rate of destruction.
The only Disciples still in the cathedral were dead so Johnny tried to warp himself to safety;
he failed, his mind was too exhausted from the efforts of battling Disorder. He still had the layout of the underground complex memorised from his mind probe and stumbled through the third arch, just like his friends had, and then started up the long staircase that would take him back to the surface.
Johnny discarded his Disciple disguise and made his way lethargically; the steps rumbled underfoot, and he was peppered by falling stones. The ebbing noise and vibration of the portal faded the further he climbed. He could just about see his friends in the distance, far ahead of him, so much closer to freedom than he was. They were moving slowly because the girls were still recovering from their sedative drugs. At the halfway point of his escape, Johnny heard a roar from behind him. It sent a tremor up the stairway and a rush of air; he turned around to see the passage caving in on itself. The destruction worked its way steadily up towards him and was preceded by a cloud of billowing dust. He still did not have enough energy or mental focus to attempt a warp and so moved his aching limbs quicker, legs pumping away as he tried to stay ahead of the approaching collapse. He looked up and was relieved to see that his friends were now out of sight, they had managed to clear the stairway; for him, it was still too early to celebrate.
Suddenly, he saw Baccharus emerge at the top of the passage; they looked at each other. “It’s Johnny!” screamed the familiar before flying down to aid his keeper. “This way! Follow me!” urged Baccharus excitedly once he finally reached him. Too tired to respond, Johnny staggered on without a word. Baccharus grabbed the collar of his long coat and started to drag him up, psychically deflecting falling debris as he did so to make sure his exhausted companion didn’t slow down. In this way, they made it to the entrance chamber with the two pillars, just before the passageway collapsed entirely. Having come this far, Johnny tried to sit down and catch his breath; Baccharus, fearfully eyeing the cracks appearing in the wall carvings, did not let him. Shouting encouragement and directions and even resorting to prods from mildly energised psychic bolts, the familiar led his keeper into the house proper, through the utility room and then into the kitchen. As they made their way to the broken window, the whole house started to quake, rattling all the lights and ornaments. Pictures fell from the kitchen walls, and crockery tumbled out of the cupboards, smashing to pieces on the floor. Sheer tiredness meant Johnny was making a mess of climbing out of the window and was left hanging halfway through it. Baccharus did not hesitate in pushing him the rest of the way in an undignified roll.
