Reverberations

by Aaron Frale

  The conference table had a stone bowl in the center where a flame was burning. Two lesser priests were attending to it, making sure it was eternal. At the front where Hector used to sit was an altar of bone and the only chair in the station. The throne of thorns. The brambles would draw blood from the High Priest’s skin every time he sat. The High Priest on the throne grinned as they entered, though it was hard to tell because the man’s flesh had been charred and healed in a sickening mess. The cultist lifted his hand and beckoned them forward, and Ludie could see blood spots up and down the man’s arm.

  Ludie dragged Hector into the room, and the door closed behind them. It made Ludie a little squeamish about seeing the guy prick himself willingly every time he sat down, and the High Priest knew that and would dig his mutilated arms into the thorns just to watch the kid squirm. Even though Ludie could snap the guy’s neck with the suit he wore, the cultists were fanatics and would die for their leader. The only real option was to make the meetings as short as possible.

  Ludie threw Hector at the knees of the High Priest, and said, “There you go. The head of the Tuners.”

  The High Priest laughed and said, “You did well, my boy. Please rest because we have a big day tomorrow.”

  Ludie knew that it was code, for they brought him some new pleasures from different worlds. Though Ludie honestly hoped it was just a video game or something he could lose himself for a little while. The Hailey lookalikes were growing stale, and Ludie had too much at stake. However, that didn’t stop him from leaving as fast as he could. The High Priest made Ludie uncomfortable at best and downright afraid at worst. It was still better than working with the Tuners. At least he knew where he stood.

  10

  The Tuners burst forth from the portal back in the Rimrock Mall parking lot. Thankfully, they were headed in the opposite direction than when they had entered or they would have crashed into the mall. To get back, they had followed the tracker on Alex’s TF2. The dot that had symbolized the portal hadn’t corresponded with anything noticeable. They were in a cornfield one moment, wondering if they would ever make it to home, and in the blink of an eye, they skidded to a halt in Billings, Montana.

  Once they were on the road back towards the farmhouse, Jon said, “We have got to get Hector to order more of these.”

  Alex laughed. “Duh, prototype. Remember? This thing only works with a TF2. You think if they mass-produced these, they would have made one with a port for a TF3! Trust me, you can’t fit as many music files, and the apps all have a crappy interface. Though it’s a small sacrifice for a cool car.”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t they have made this with a TF3?” Meathook thought out loud. “They have far superior audio quality.”

  “I don’t know,” Alex said. “I’m not a history professor. Universe One did all sorts of weird stuff and had a vendetta against instruction manuals and FAQs. Not that I blame them; does anyone ever read that crap!”

  “Perhaps there was a good reason behind the decisions they have made. We just don’t have all the information they did,” Patel said.

  “If you ask me,” Alex said, “Universe One was full of twerps who just put comic books in sleeves and never read them, or used proxy cards in their collectible card games.”

  Alex was really growing on Jon. Hopefully, he could convince them to stick around after they got everything sorted.

  “Right,” Jon said. “Back to the farmhouse?”

  They nodded in agreement. Because 61g had a rigid social structure, they needed to 3D print some clothing before they could mount a rescue mission for Hector. They were lucky that one of the items that had been spared in the exodus was a printer they’d use to make clothing specific to each universe. While their regular clothes worked in most places, in some situations, contemporary clothes were cause for immediate suspicion.

  The drive out to the farmhouse was inconsequential. They caught up on the events of DeAndre, the messed up politics of U-87c, and Hailey’s mission that ended with another problem to solve. It would have been a typical day for the Tuners if they weren’t living on a farmhouse and hiring bounty hunters to help solve their problems. The almost normal feeling of the situation gave them a false sense of security.

  While they were driving up the dirt road through the woods to the farmhouse, Jon told Alex to stop the car after they passed the mud patch he always avoided on his way home. At first, they balked, and Jon repeated his request more firmly. They grumbled about being paid by the hour, and Hailey asked Jon what was wrong. He couldn’t place it precisely, but he had known something wasn’t right with the situation even before they made it back. Patel had called for the barrier to come down right before they had entered the cornfield in 87c. There was something about the voice of the person who responded. Jon wasn’t able to place what was bothering him until the mud patch.

  The dirt road leading up to the farmhouse didn’t get a lot of traffic. The Tuners and all the people they had saved from HQ were the only ones who used it. There were more tire tracks than usual. It was as if a fleet of vehicles had passed by. That’s when Jon thought of the strange voice he had heard.

  He was sure something was happening and told the others to stay there while he checked it out. Hailey insisted on going with him.

  “Fine,” Jon said and then turned to Meathook. He nodded towards Alex and then gave a knowing look.

  “You want me to watch Alex?” Meathook said.

  “Dude,” Jon said, exasperated. “When I don’t say something out loud, it’s probably for a reason!”

  “What?” Meathook asked. “I was just making sure I got your meaning.”

  “What’s a-matter, Jonny-boy,” Alex said. “You don’t trust me?”

  “No, I don’t,” Jon said.

  “Boo-freaking-hoo,” Alex said. “You can see I’m really torn up inside about that. I don’t trust people either. Why do you think I got half my pay up front? If it makes you feel better, I’ll let your guy watch me. Make sure I don’t drive away or something. Leave you when you’re so close to home! Just skip out on the second half of my paycheck!”

  “Okay, okay,” Jon said. “Just everyone else waits here. Come on, Hailey.”

  Jon and Hailey walked off the road into the woods and went in as straight of a line as possible toward the farmhouse. As they pushed branches aside and walked through brush, Hailey asked, “What are we doing, Jon? Hector is probably in some underwater prison right now. For all we know, they threw him out an airlock already.”

  “Hector can handle himself,” Jon said, “and I don’t care how screwed up their society is. If there is anything that resembles due process of law, we have some time before they throw him out of an airlock.”

  “Not all universes are the same.”

  “And if it was the toss people out of the airlock kind at the first sign of trouble, then they would have already, long before we would have gotten there even if we had left right away.”

  “Fair point. But you want to let me in on why we aren’t just going home?”

  “I have a bad feeling.”

  “You have more bad feelings than not.”

  “Am I really that negative?”

  Hailey didn’t even need to answer that one.

  Jon quickly added, “This one is just more than a general malaise of bad.”

  They made their way through the woods to the edge of the fence that had surrounded the property of the new Tuners HQ. There were lights on in the farmhouse and the barn, but no one was milling about or walking between the two. There were two figures on the porch, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. A lot of the techs liked to hang out on the front steps.

  “Looks like everything is fine,” Hailey said.

  “One second,” Jon said and pulled out his TF3. He opened his camera app and used it to zoom in on the two people on the porch. Just as he suspected, he could see the forehead carvings under the hair of one of them. They were cultists. They had infiltrated the base.

 
Jon showed what he had discovered to Hailey, and a look of dread came over her face. He put his TF3 away and nodded back toward the car. They quickly made their way through the woods at a near sprint. The branches and bushes scratched their faces and arms as they weren’t as careful on the way back.

  When they got to the car, Meathook and Alex were talking about heavy metal music.

  “So, bro,” Meathook said, “there is this band in 42 called Metallica, and you have to check it out.”

  “Oh yeah,” Alex said. “I already have all their albums on my TF2.”

  “That’s quite the commitment for a TF2.”

  “You know it. What do you think of Slayer?”

  “They are the definition of Metal.”

  “I know, right?”

  Jon yelled at Meathook, “Dude! Step away from Alex. They aren’t what they say they are.”

  “What are you talking about?” Alex asked. “Is this that paranoid crap? I like getting paid and wouldn’t dream of screwing over a paying client. It’s bad for business.”

  “So why did you bring the cultists to our doorstep?” Jon asked.

  “That wasn’t me!”

  “Right, the day after you follow me home to our secret hideout.”

  “Dude,” Alex said. “That’s just an insurance policy. Make sure you have the means to pay and that some bozo doesn’t screw it up for me.”

  “Patel?” Jon asked.

  “On it,” Patel said. During the argument, Patel had moved behind Alex. She lunged to restrain Alex, but the bounty hunter was anticipating someone coming up from behind. They sidestepped the attack and kicked the assailant in the crotch.

  Patel held her genitals and Alex said, “It doesn’t matter how tough you are, sister. You hit someone in the right place, and it’s going to hurt.”

  Meathook came in for her next. He swung a punch that would make Thor proud. Alex ducked and slipped back. They raised their arm guards and stopped two of Hailey’s daggers. Jon charged, and they used the momentum to knock him headfirst into the car. There was a loud clang, and Alex said, “I’m sorry, baby.”

  Azerius munched on a bag of potato chips.

  DeAndre ran at top speed towards Alex, and a well-timed fist laid him out. Jon was a little dazed but turned around for another attack. Hailey pulled out some more daggers. Meathook was determined not to miss this time. Patel had recovered and didn’t look too pleased. Alex knew it was time for their backup plan. They pulled out another bit of Universe One tech they had squirreled away from the ever-vigilant gaze of Hector hoarding all the technology for himself. It was another prototype that looked like a black box with a projector lens at the end, a wide burst taser.

  They pressed the button, and a cone of energy shot out and zapped all the Tuners at once. Everyone except Alex fell to the ground, unconscious.

  Azerius, who was far enough away to be out of the blast radius, ate the last chip and said, “Hey, do you think we can stop at a gas station when we are done with this?”

  11

  Ludie had left Hector at the foot of the High Priest with what was definitely a dislocated shoulder. The kid had popped it out of place because he didn’t know his own strength, which was a common theme with Ludie. The former Tuner always doubted himself and had self-confidence issues that almost made him ineligible for the organization, but Hector had given him a chance anyway.

  Even though he had no control over Ludie’s choices, Hector blamed himself for bringing a person into the Tuners before they were ready for the responsibility. He had thought the kid would gain confidence with a little experience under his belt. The opposite seemed to happen. The more Ludie went out, the more he dug into his nutty quest to augment himself and the others. At first, Hector thought it was a boon to have a person so dedicated to improving their equipment. He realized too late that it was just to cover inadequacy.

  Regardless of the original motivation, the kid was probably starting to realize that he screwed up and was in too deep but was too afraid to admit it. While Ludie wasn’t a lost cause, he knew that the kid wasn’t going to get them out of this mess. That left negotiating with the High Priest. However, Hector wasn’t even sure he could talk to the madman, much less look for a peaceful solution.

  Either way, he was here now, and probably would never get a chance to talk again, so he needed to make use of the time. Regardless of what happened to him now, it was up to his team, and he knew they were up to the task. His only regret would be that he wouldn’t get a chance to tell them they were doing a good job.

  The High Priest of the Flame told Hector to stand.

  Hector opened his mouth to speak, but the leader silenced him. The High Priest sized up the former Tuners chief and said, “Do you know obedience?”

  “I know loyalty,” Hector said. “And it pushes people farther than you ever could by ruling out of fear.”

  The High Priest chuckled, though it sounded like more of a cackle. He turned to one of the lesser priests in the room who stood next to the fire they had burning at the center of his conference table. He instructed the acolyte to squelch the flame.

  “But Holy One,” the acolyte said, “to let the Flame go out is to risk death and eternal damnation.”

  “That is what the Flame requires of you. It is not for you to decide who are the servants and who are the honored fallen,” the High Priest ordered.

  The priest looked around for a moment and said, “Holy One, there is no water. Allow me to—”

  “Do as you’re told!” the High Priest said firmly.

  The priest climbed onto the table and used his body to cover the bowl and cringed as the flame seared his flesh. Eventually, the oxygen-depleted and the flame went out. The acolyte got down from the table. The fat on his torso was burnt and still smoking.

  The High Priest pulled a gnarled dagger from his robe and stabbed the man repeatedly. The man fell to the floor, a smoldering and lifeless hunk of flesh. The High Priest wiped the blood off on his own robe. He turned to the other priest in the room and carved another star on his forehead.

  The High Priest spoke as he carved. “You are the head Flame Keeper now. Remove this filth from my presence and restore the Flame.”

  “Yes, Holy One,” the lesser priest said with a trembling voice.

  The High Priest turned back toward Hector and said, “Obedience is loyalty.”

  “I disagree, but I don’t imagine you are looking for a debate, so why don’t you tell me why I am still alive.”

  “You get right to the point. I like that. How much of our day is drained away by pointless prattle? I would have hung Ludie by his entrails long ago if he didn’t keep proving his worth.”

  “He is a child. If you raised them yourself and didn’t steal them from other universes, you’d know that about him.”

  “Child-rearing is for the weak. The strong take what they need, so is the will of the Flame.”

  “The Flame seems to be losing a little gas recently. You could have destroyed a whole universe to get to us on that last encounter. Now a kid is doing all the stuff you have failed to do yourself.”

  It was a calculated risk, antagonizing the guy, but the least Hector could do was figure out what had changed. They had gone from a group of fanatics who would have no problem sending half their ranks on a suicide mission to a longer game, and that scared him. They had the tools at their disposal to really cause damage on an unprecedented scale.

  The priest didn’t take the bait. He laughed and said, “I didn’t ascend from filth to the rank of god of the multiverse to play petty games of ego with you.”

  “I thought the Flame was your god?”

  “There is much you don’t know that is only for the privileged few in the highest echelons of the priesthood.”

  “Are you saying your religion is a Ponzi scheme? You’re kind of making it sound like a Ponzi scheme.”

  “I would cut out your tongue if I didn’t need it at the moment.” The High Priest tapped a button on the wa
ll, and it opened the windows to the control room downstairs. Cult members were working the stations that used to be staffed by his crew. The platform where the Tuners started every mission was a flurry of activity. A priest and warriors prayed as they were tuned to another universe. As soon as that group disappeared, a priest appeared with a group of captured teenagers. The terrified children were whipped and herded to who knows where and another group stepped onto the platform.

  A pit formed in Hector’s stomach. They weren’t destroying universes anymore because they were using them to grow their ranks. They were preying on the others as feeder universes for their sick cause. The worst part was that every person with the ability to tune who was beaten into submission would grow their cause exponentially.

  The High Priest spoke. “You see, the Flame had a realization. Others universes could help the word of the Flame spread like wildfire. Why purge the multiverse after the harvest when the natural order is its subservience to you?”

  “I don’t think slavery counts as the lesser of two evils when the other option is genocide.”

  “All great prophets are mocked by the people of the time without vision. History will be the judge of me.”

  “At least there is one thing we agree on,” Hector said.

  The High Priest closed the blinds and sat on his chair of thorns. He dug his arms in deep, and the blood dripped from his wounds. The man seemed to fall into a trance. Hector considered making a move. However, even if he did kill the guy, there would be another ready to take his place, and that person might be more brutal. Not to mention the hit would have to be precise since the guy did have Meathook level strength.

  “You still haven’t answered the question of why I’m still alive,” Hector said.

  A few moments passed before the High Priest spoke. “Do you know why all our rituals focus on pain?”

  “No, but I’m sure you are going to tell me.”

  “It is because almost everything on our world causes pain. The food is like razors in your mouth and feels like stones in your stomach. The leaves on the foliage have spines. You can collect leaves to make bedding, but it is like lying on brambles. The wildlife is hardy, tough, and even the scavengers will kill you. The only water that is safe to drink comes from bubbling volcanic activity. Nothing is comforting on my world. Enduring pain prepares people for life. How did humans evolve with so much stacked against us? The answer is that we didn’t. We were left there.”