Old Complications

by Vincent Cleaver

  It was four meters tall, built on three times the dimensions of a parental mode Oddity and probably twice as massive as Trin. It had the three leg-tentacles of an Oddity, and the two arms, vertical slit maw, teeth, and three eyestalks, but it was built for fighting, even so. It was armored, articulated segments with hooks and barbs and edges for cutting and stabbing.

  Trin felt the natural Markov instinct, fear and submission to that which was bigger. They were a herd species, and the leader was always bigger, usually older, and owed obedience for leadership, loyalty for loyalty. That was the way of it, and now he began to understand, in the old tales, how the servants of the demons had felt…

  “No!”

  The demon hooked him by his right rear leg, and dragged him into the air. Trin struggled to think straight, reaching for a grenade. He pulled it off of his belt as he came even with the vertical slit, fangs bared and stinking like fish and carrion. The armored eyestalks looked down and saw what was in his hand just as he tossed it into its maw. The demon threw him and spit the grenade out, just as it detonated. Trin was peppered with some of the shrapnel, but most of it ripped into the demon. It fell like a green tree, things snapping loudly and wetly.

  “Sarge!”

  Soldiers were converging on him. Trin got up and check himself out. Some blood, but he would live. The demon, or whatever it was, was still, and that was fine by him. A win was a win.

  It began to glow, like cold blue and green flames, and his skin crawled as he watched the wounds begin to close. He could feel heat off of it, on his face.

  “Sarge?” There was general moan, as the thing got back up.

  “I’m impressed,” it said, in Markov. “I was going to take my time with you, but now I think that I’ll make it quick.”

  “Gods and Ancestors hear me,” Trin whispered.

  “What? A little bit louder, please,” the demon said, and it smiled, its vertical slit mouth showing it’s hooked teeth. It laughed that same horrible laugh, again with the gurgling sounds.

  Trin looked around at his soldiers, who looked to him. Just so. He did not see the Lieutenant, and that was just as well. He crouched, like a sumo stance, and stamped his feet.

  “Gods and Ancestors, Hear me! I am Trin, of Krell, and my dam is Adana of Krell, and my sire is Koom of Reentak!” Others joined him, naming their names and dams and sires.

  “More of your tiresome superstitions…”

  They ignored him, and the rest of the Regulars joined in. The Lieutenant came down the path, and muttered, “Madness…” But he joined them, too.

  “Mark what we do now. See how we strive, together! We are Markov, always Markov!”

  The demon spat, “See how you die…”

  ***

  OC and Harry came upon the very last of it. There was a glow, in an evil purple, that flickered and died, and OC nodded to himself.

  They were all dead, or dying. In Harry’s experience, that just didn’t happen; no one kept fighting, to the last, although he had heard stories. These aliens had mobbed the monster, pulled it down, shot and stabbed and kicked and hacked tentacles and armored eyestalks off, even blown themselves up in the embrace of their foe.

  A mostly intact head stared up at him, and Harry saluted it. “Semper fi, you big ugly mother…”

  OC dug around in the gore, and picked something up. He seemed lost, somehow.

  “Well, that was strangely anti-climatic,” Harry mused.

  “It was too easy.”

  Harry looked around at the carnage. “On their behalf, I beg to differ.”

  OC did not answer, just wiped off the rock, and looked north, towards Den Orrik.

  ***

  The title of the book was The Art of War. Den Leader Parl was on a bit of an ‘all things human’ kick, and this was what all of the businessmen in North America were reading these days.

  "In difficult ground, press on; On hemmed-in ground, use subterfuge; In death ground, fight."

  Parl put the book down. Competition was one thing. He came from a long line of robber barons, not that he had ever turned out any widows or orphans, or razed any mountain tops for the ore at their heart. But War? All against all? It was not good business.

  He had read how a successful businessman would turn on a hose whenever a competitor was going out of business, to give water to a drowning man. Well. Parl was all about charging all the market would bear, but, without the means to make a living, how were they going to keep buying from Den Orrik?

  The alarms began to sound, and Parl checked the comm, and then jumped up. An internal sensor hit, an energy weapon discharged. Intruders, had made it all the way inside, to the nursery!

  ***

  The Adversary tossed the body away like the trash it was, and yowled in anger. Energy weapons discharge meant that- The alarm sounded, before it could finish that thought.

  The cub had had a blaster! What insanity was this that adults let children play with weapons, as toys. It smashed the marksmanship trophies in anger, and became even angrier when it realized that the children, far from panicking, were calmly evacuating the littlest ones, first. An older cub scooped up the body, in a fireman’s carry, and fled, too, while the three oldest guarded the retreat.

  “This is not going as planned,” it whined to itself, in Demonic.

  ***

  “By the numbers, Oda,” Gron said, to his sister.

  “But I’m the best shot!” She retorted, around tears and snot. Now that Jook was- She couldn’t finish that thought.

  “And I’m the oldest,” Gron said, nodding to Rikk. For a little while longer, he thought. “Get going!”

  ***

  Another one got away, while he dithered, and of course, the one he caught up bit him. He threw it against the wall, too hard, and its brain case popped, spilling its contents carelessly. He managed to catch the last one, though, and he went in search of more hostages with which to control that fool.

  ***

  The Public Security vehicle brought OC and Harry to Den Orrik a lot faster than they had left it. Parl and the Commish had their heads together over a tactical plot of the Nursery and adjacent parts of the Den. They both looked up at them.

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Harry said. “What can we do?’

  “I’m not sure, but-“ Parl realized that he was speaking to their backs, as OC took off, after a glance at the plot, and Harry chased after.

  ***

  The one with the second blaster was troublesome, quick and sure, and she retreated, repeatedly, drawing it away from the evacuation route. The one in hand kept biting him, until, in frustration, he threw it and smashed both annoying cubs. Then he had no hostages, and he yowled in frustration.

  ***

  Oda saw that Gron’s neck was hanging at an angle, and the two good eyes were empty. She wept, for herself and for her brothers, but her broken body was feeling no pain, as it pumped out pain-killers, and she passed over into waking dreams.

  She smiled, then, as Princess Henneshaneh asked her to join the Shining Host, and she took her place next to Jook, and Rikk, and Gron…

  ***

  “What are we going to do?” Harry asked.

  Old Complications stopped and turned to him, and Harry, following so hard on the aliens’ heels, almost bumped into him. They were in the open, in the garden where OC had told the children stories, very exposed, and OC handed him the stone he’d picked up.

  “Hold onto this. When it asks for it, give this to the demon,” he said, smiling.

  “What are you going to do? Is this an ambush?”

  They heard something yowling, like the world’s largest tomcat.

  “Yes, but you won’t see that, until after. Now, shoot me!”

  “What! No! Jesus, don’t go nuts on me-“

  The tiger-centaur crouched and roared, and Harry reacted. The uzi came up and stitched a dozen holes through the length of him. OC fell over, breathing out, “See, you do trust me!”

  Harry almost drop
ped the gun, but then the demon yowled, again, close by. It was on the far side of the garden, and it charged.

  “I kill him! He hasn’t suffered nearly enough!”

  What Harry heard was yet another alien language that he didn’t know, full of pops and clicks and whistles. He didn’t care. He aimed the Uzi and hosed the monster, walking bullets up and to the left, and then he let the muzzle drop and did it again. He emptied the Uzi and changed clips, and emptied that one, too, and changed clips again, and held his fire. The demon dropped to the ground, rolling in a heap, stopping a few yards away. Not that he expected it to stay down, but Harry had more important things to deal with.

  Man down.

  The Hunter wasn’t breathing, and that was bad. The worse thing since his father had died, when he was ten, at home and surrounded by loved ones.

  Harry didn’t know why, but he was startled, when the alien began to glow with green and blue flames.

  ***

  “Reshoo, wake up, Dear One. You’ve been away for so long…”

  He was Reshoo, and he was Old Complications, and Ash, the explorer. There were so many names. He was… He-Who-Waits.

  He dimly remembered, now, the first time. He had been a hive-mind, and not known what loneliness was, until first contact with a starfaring species. They were known to the Conservancy simply as the Starship Builders, little more, remembered, like the Wormhole Builders, for their found works, but they had been so much more. The Conservancy, and others, still built ships to their designs.

  That was over thirty million years ago.

  “Henneshaneh… Nesha, is that really you?”

  “I am that part of me which lies within you, Dear One.” Which was neither yes nor no, but it was enough. He visited with her for a little while, before duty stole him away from her again. Damn duty.

  ***

  “Well, I’m glad you decided not to check out on us, Kitty Cat,” Harry said to him, wiping at his face. “You don’t make a habit of abandoning strays, do you?”

  “No,” OC said, sighing. He wanted his Nesha, and he was stuck with this smart-ass, and the mission. As always, The Work. He sat up, and looked over at the glowing mass of Demon. “Oh, good, he’s back for more.”

  “So, this is how that immortality thing works, huh?”

  “More or less. I’ve gotten to be quite skilled at working in living things, shaping and reshaping flesh and bone, and the underlying genetics, which is different for each species.” He was looking at Harry, again, and he reached out a clumsy paw, to press a claw-tip, lightly, to Harry’s forehead. He pulled the claw back, and sighed. “I guess I could have done a better job with the Hunters, but I was rushed.”

  ***

  The demon rose up on its three lower tentacles, and it looked at OC and the human. In Old Ilshani, it purred, "You know, that hurt quite a lot. I owe you pain, human." The three eyestalks focused on the Hunter. "But first things first. I owe that thing much more pain than we have time for."

  "What did you do to it?" Harry said, out of the side of his mouth. He didn't take his eyes off of the threat, and he held the Uzi ready.

  "I left it alone."

  "That doesn't sound so bad," Harry said.

  "It's immortal, like me, because, in a way, it is me."

  "It just gets better and better..." Harry muttered. "If it's you, then, um, who are you? And don't say 'He-Who-Waits'!"

  "My adversary and I disaggree about why we exist. I say that we are her to make things better. He thinks that suffering is all that really happens, here. There is no joy without the seed of its denial, no hope, just despair. If I teach you short-lived savages something, you will only use it to kill each other."

  "I think that I've sufficiently proven my point," the Demon said. "Now, what shall it be? Shall I make you watch, while I hurt more of these mayflies? Or do we settle this, between us, for good?"

  "Tell me about the dupes, the duplicates, first," OC asked. "You did not tell it not to trigger the second stage of the Infinity Shard. In fact, I'm fairly sure you tricked it into doing so."

  "No, well, yes, I did. They serve me, not the other way around. I've got my priorities straight!" The demon laughed, and that made Harry's skin crawl. "as a side not, don't you ever get tired of these grand names? The so-called Infinity Shard is just a piece of junk, that happens to imbue the lucky mayfly who crosses it's path with a limited form of matter control." It sighed. "I suspect that it's just some kind of cosmic bandaid, with the ability to learn the biology of the target, so that it can heal it."

  OC nodded, and Harry glanced his way. "I worked that out for myself, long ago," He said, and winked at Harry. "First stage, Life Eternal. Second stage takes it away. No real way of knowing if there are any other settings, of course."

  Harry wondered just exactly what OC was trying to tell him, but he didn't even begin to have a clue. Just that the stone was something called the Infinity Shard, and valuable. And, for some reason, he was to give it to the Demon...

  "I take it you had a cult on Girrenjaya?"

  "Well, that you've got to work for, Ranger. You've been so careful with my toys that I've had to be careful, right back."

  "Would someone care to explain all of that, for the viewers at home?" Harry shouted in frustration.

  "It's pretty impressive, actually. His Rangers and the Survery, with help from the Directorate of Transportation, kept the secret of the Oddities, The Mercy, they call it. Plus they siolated three-"

  "Five. Two are dead worlds, by their own actions," OC growled.

  "Five demon worlds, isolated from the wider Galaxy." Another horrible, gurgling laugh. "What's a villian to do, without minions?"

  "Five worlds, seventeen global nuclear exchanges and conventional wars with chemical and, or, biological agents, too... make things interesting." Old Complications was staring towards the east end of the gardens, where security troops from Public Safety had them covered, and emergency teams were taking four stretchers out of the complex, to set them aside, while the living were taken away first.

  "The Nursery?"

  "Yes," the Demon answered, very satisfied with itself.

  There was a blur of orange and black stripes, and white, as Old Complications leaped at the Demon, and took it high. They rolled, and came up tearing chunks out of each other. They were very hard on the landscaping, like gods come down to earth to settle some heavenly conflict. Then the Demon threw the tiger-centaur through a vast window looking onto the west end of the garden, and followed him inside.

  It didn't take very long, at all, before the building was in flames.

  ***

  OC sat up, and spit out a tooth. The Demon paused and put the end of an eyestalk to its corresponding stump, and waited while blue-green fire blazed. It turned back to OC. “Had enough yet? I out mass you, and I have a better reach. I can keep smashing you, all day,” It said, looking towards the dawn. They were on the roof, now.

  “This is what you decided to do with immortality?”

  “I could ask you the same question, but why bother? You think that you already have the answer.”

  They fought for some more, in the flames, as the sun came up, and the Demon caught him, and began breaking one leg after the other.

  “Oh, wait, I was supposed to ask you questions! Then hurt you, if you do not answer, or you lie to me. I forgot, you see, because I somehow get this impression that you actually enjoy pain!”

  “Maybe… you’re right, OC said, tiredly. “This pain, it tells me I’m alive, not already dead, like you.”

  “Well, that was a snappy comeback,” The Demon said, and broke another leg. “Now, where is the shard? Tell me, or, since this doesn’t matter to you, I’ll go find some mayflies, and start pulling their wings off.”

  “No need for that,” said Harry, stepping up to them, hands empty, except for the stone. “He said to give this to you, when you asked for it.”

  The demon turned to OC and asked, “Now wh
y did you do that, you old fool? I have-“

  Harry threw the stone, and the Demon picked it out of the air, and then said, “Oh. You want to die, do you?”

  “I want you to stop hurting the ones I love.” Old Complications closed his eyes, briefly. “I suspected that you must still be around, but I had no proof. The Plan was for Old Complications to die here.”

  “And then, what, you would become something else? How sad for you. You’ve always been a Hunter, since long before you founded the Conservancy, what, over three thousand years ago?”

  “Not always, but it is the form that I like the best. I… had thought to be a Gara, this time.” They all looked to where the last of the small bodies were being loaded into the emergency vehicles. The living had had priority.

  “I was bait for you, and you, for me? Nice symmetry,” it spat. “I hate symmetry! The only thing that matters is me!”

  OC nodded sadly. For this, for this, he had allowed so many to die, by not acting, long, long ago, when he knew that he should have. All had died, all of the Ilshani with their allied species, even the demons, and almost all of the Hunters. Then there were the Markov, who were truly damned, unless they could save themselves. They just might.

  Enough.

  The demon was still talking. “You’ll have to wait, though, until I make another dupe…”

  “Why wait?” OC asked. Harry looked at him sharply.

  “I’m not done having fun!”

  “Oh, but you are…” Old Complications reached out for the Shard, then, and released the second trigger. An evil purple glow lit the rooftop, lit up the demon, and OC, and Harry. The Hunters’ broken paw found the pouch with Marianne’s drawing, and pulled out the flimsy.

  The Demon screamed its fury, and pinned by forces it had not bothered to understand.

  “You’re insane! That will kill us both!”

  “You spent so much time among the Markov, but did you learn any of their wisdom? No, of course you did not. ‘Never come between a Ranger and his mission.’”

  There was just a little more time, yet, and Old Complications looked to Harry.

  “The Hunters had a living God. Their Tester lived among them. The new race of Hunter will not have a Tester, but will still have the Test, the same one with which every sentient species struggles. ‘What is our purpose? What do we owe each other? Why are we here?’ Please, Harry, help them.”