Sorrow's Fall

by Helen Allan

  “You have to understand the gods would never agree to this if they knew what was happening – they firmly believe in Shu and Tefnut’s decree that mixed children are an abomination. They would never willingly breed with humans. Only those who work in the infirmary and the guardian know how Tefnut’s planetary domination leadership force is formed.”

  “And our fathers?”

  “The sperm of selected human male slaves is used to fertilise the eggs, which are implanted into the skinless ones – women from another planet that Tefnut and Shu took over long ago. These women incubate and birth you. I know very little about them, other than they have organs suitable for growing babies, and bodies that can accommodate giving birth to Earthborn babies with ease. And, although it doesn’t look like it, that they do have skin, but it is transparent – so the foetus can be watched through its entire development. Girls are aborted, boys are raised in nurseries, very rudimentary nurseries with no comforts, no love, the conditions are,” she shuddered, “horrible, Judge. Many little boys die. The crying…. I don’t know if I will ever forgive myself for even pretending to help create such misery.”

  “You did what you needed to do, Sorrow. I know it is in your nature to care. I am sorry that you had to suffer.”

  “I didn’t suffer as much as you did, Judge,” she murmured. “When the boys are four, they are sent to The Fist to commence training as an understudy of another red leader. Just as Jury has been, just as you were before him. Your memories of The Finger are completely erased during the findaile joining when you turn twelve.”

  “Yes, it makes sense,” Judge nodded, “Jury said he remembered seeing a woman, but she had no skin. But tell me more of the findaile and the joining ceremony – why do they take our hearts?”

  “Well, that is where it gets really creepy. They take your heart so you cannot regenerate. When you die, you die permanently, and you are easily replaced. I think this is how Tefnut justifies using god ovum to make you; there is no chance you will be regenerated or ever be a real threat to the gods. But putting your spare heart in the findaile serves another purpose. It is when they receive your heart that they begin to share your thoughts, and your feelings – as they once shared the thoughts and feelings of their own families on their home planet. The operation removes their yearnings to return home and replaces their own desires with a determination to please you, to follow your directions and needs.

  “But we feel their pain too,” Judgment frowned.

  “Yes, that was a happy coincidence,” Sorrow snorted, “Tefnut realised that while findailes were a great weapon, as he had hoped they would be, they could also control you, the red leaders. Although you were bred not to have any feelings, raised as soldiers and killers all, you still required one attachment, something more than just duty. The findailes provided that – your only link to feelings, the only thing you truly cared about other than your prowess at war – was a creature in your charge.”

  Judgment was silent for some time, the only sound his heavy breathing as he laboured to keep walking, and the low murmur of those following. But his silence spoke volumes to Sorrow, he was shocked, deeply shocked by all he had heard, and needed time to process.

  “And the Gharial?”

  “Lobotomised upon landing. They are, as you say, vicious, mindless creatures – but they were not always so. The operation simply exacerbates their lizard brain and removes all civilised intent.”

  Judge shook his head, his face turning even paler if that were possible.

  Less than an hour after their discussion, he surprised her by calling a halt to their exodus.

  “Soldiers,” he turned back to those snaking behind in a long line, “continue on to the retreat. Treat your wounds, rest and recover. I must do something before I can join you.”

  No one questioned his word, except Sorrow. She frowned and opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but he forestalled her.

  “Come,” he said quietly, turning and limping back the way they had come, “you have three days before you must return to The Finger – and I intend to go with you.”

  “How?” she gasped, seeing him riding the horse, lance extended, his expression jaunty, as he approached the crowd and bowed, grinning.

  “He must have jumped through the portal within the past five years, prior to Lokan blowing it up – or else jumped through from another planet,” Judge whispered, “and been transported to The Finger.”

  Sorrow frowned at Judgment, dressed as he was as a human slave in a white, skin-tight jumpsuit, and turned back to the games. They were both playing a deadly ruse at the moment, and she couldn’t let her emotions rule her head. But at the sight of her friend riding a horse, a dead dragon at his feet, she was almost swept away with joy at seeing him, and confusion at how he could possibly have been at The Finger the whole time she had been living there, and she had not known.

  “But you said the Avalona portal wasn’t guarded,” she whispered.

  “And it wasn’t. How should I know how your ridiculous slave ended up here?”

  “I’ve told you before, Judge, he is my friend. If he is here, it is because he came looking for me.”

  “Well, your friend does not look as though he is in dire circumstances, now, can we go?”

  “What? No, I have to figure out a way to rescue him.”

  “If he is indeed being kept at The Finger as a favourite of the gods, or a slave, he will be wearing a torc,” he murmured, his eyes turning back to Sorrow and meeting her intense gaze.

  “So?”

  “It is a tracking device. He will have freedom to move where he is permitted, but should he try to escape his head will blow off.”

  “That is what those necklaces are that all the slaves wear?” she shook her head, “I had no idea. Fuck.”

  “Yes. I want to.”

  “No, I mean, fuck, that is bad.”

  “Yes, that too.”

  “Have you seen that happen?”

  “A findaile has a large appetite,” he answered dryly.

  “Ugh. So, escapee slaves, Gharials who do the wrong thing, critters great and small from other planets – pretty much anything is on the menu.”

  “Except fish,” Judge shrugged, “Ib does not like fish – or cats. He would not eat a cat.”

  “Good to know,” Sorrow snorted, “and yes, let’s get out of here and continue our sweep. But I will return for Etienne.”

  “I know,” Judge sighed.

  They rose from their seats at the furthest side of the games arena and headed out towards the parking area where Chauffeur 502 was waiting for them.

  “We would like to go to the airfield, please?”

  “Of course, Mistress,” he said, casting Judgment an admiring glance.

  Sorrow had to admit, Judge looked wonderful in his suit, probably a head and shoulders taller than many of the other human men, his muscles popped, making him look like a white-suited super-hero. She couldn’t help also when her eyes drifted lower to admire his hefty package in the tight pantsuit, something not at all lost on the flamboyant chauffer.

  “I need also to pass on a message, Mistress, he went on, “several of the other goddesses have requested a visit from your slave. One, in particular, was most insistent. She says she will swap her birdman for an evening, a high honour, as he is most sought after.”

  “Birdman?” Sorrow rolled her eyes, “tell me this isn’t a man with wings?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “And how is it I have not seen this birdman since I’ve been here?”

  “He is,” the man giggled, “often very busy and most popular. Only those in the upper echelons and the guardian have enjoyed his, ah, talents. And you have been living in the infirmary quarter – no pleasure slaves visit there.”

  “Indeed,” Sorrow snorted.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Judgment asked, shaking his head.

  “I’m thinking,” she laughed, “that a certain French man with a penchant for the la
dies, and a certain Winged man with the same, have landed in nirvana and might not even want to be rescued.”

  “Rescued?” the chauffeur laughed, “who would want to leave The Finger, not I, not any man I have yet met.”

  Sorrow said nothing. While it was true human men were well-treated slaves, she knew there were many who would chafe at the yoke – hence the torcs. What she didn’t know yet though, and could find no answers to, was why no male gods lived on the planet, apart from Tefnut, and why she had seen no evidence of Shu in either The Finger, or The Fist, apart from one golden life-sized statue in the centre of The Finger’s main square. She had to assume Shu was the guardian.

  She hoped that, depending on how long Etienne and Raphael had been in The Finger, they might be able to shed some light on these mysteries. Just how she was going to get to her two friends though, was something she was yet to broach with Judgment.

  As the airfield came into view, Judgement turned his attention to the hangars dominating a large industrial area that Sorrow had not yet seen. She saw as they approached that it was abuzz with spacecraft loading and unloading goods and creatures.

  “You can leave us here,” she said to the chauffeur, “return for us in two hours, oh and tell the goddess ‘yes’ we will swap lovers for the evening.”

  “What?” Judgment swung wide eyes on her as she waved away her driver.

  “You want sex. I want to see Raphael and offer him the chance to escape; win-win.”

  “I do not want sex with a monster,” he growled, “I want sex with you.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” she laughed, “lie back and think of England.”

  “What?”

  “You are doing this for your country.”

  “I don’t have a country.”

  “Very well, you are doing this for me, think of it as good practice.”

  “I will not do it,” he said firmly.

  “We shall see,” Sorrow frowned, catching the eye of a sorrowful woman in a group of tethered skinless as they were poked and pushed off a newly arrived airship. She shuddered, knowing their fate.

  “We need to stop every single one of these transports,” she whispered.

  “All in good time,” he murmured, “I need to get on board one first.”

  “Jesus, you didn’t say anything about that. You said you wanted to see them, count them and if possible, see an itinerary of flight patterns.”

  “Yes, that too,” he smiled briefly.

  She glared at him for a moment, annoyed that once again he had not shared his full plans with her.

  “Okaaaay,” she finally groaned, leading the way toward a carrier, he walking behind her, tethered by her Wonder Woman rope, “but if we survive, you are doing a goddess.”

  “I will do no such thing,” he growled.

  She embraced her friend warmly and laughed.

  “How? How on Earth did you end up here?

  “Uh, my God you feel so small and hot and beautiful – two years, two years I’ve waited to feel this body.”

  “Raphael,” she punched him lightly on the shoulder and tried to unwrap herself from his arms and wings, “you’ve been here two years?”

  He shrugged, “give or take.”

  “But,” she shook her head, “I don’t understand. I jumped through right before Lokan was supposed to blow the gate, and I fell into a five-year gap. Judgment had almost given up waiting for me. Did you jump through another world’s gate?”

  “No,” he looked guilty and turned to the bar at the side of her room to pour himself a drink.

  “Raph,” she said sternly, “tell me.”

  “Shit,” he ran his hands threw his feathered hair, “Etienne and I followed you. We expected you would be pissed, but neither of us fancied staying once it became clear all the portals were going to be blown. The Angels had swayed the parliament, unbeknownst to most, us included. It was only a sheer fluke that I overheard a conversation with the army commander organising suicide missions for the other pilots, that I realised what was going to happen.”

  “Oh no,” Sorrow groaned, “every portal was closed?”

  “Every single one,” he nodded, “meaning our planet is most likely now plunged into a pogrom and/or civil war – neither of which Gabrielle, Etienne or myself wanted to stay around for.”

  “Gabrielle is here?” Sorrow smiled; she missed her friend.

  “No, she jumped to Earth, to your mother. Etienne and I followed you here – only you were not waiting to ream us when we landed, you were nowhere to be found. Instead, we found ourselves captured by incompetent lizards. They wanted to take us prisoner, but they were terrified of us. They gave us food, water and oxygen masks before they scurried off and we made our way here.”

  Sorrow chortled, she knew all too well the lack of bravery the Nãga exhibited.

  “And no one here questioned you suddenly turning up out of nowhere?”

  “We were fortunate. We walked towards the sounds of a large battle, as you do,” he snorted, “and realised the portals were under attack. Etienne recognised Judgment, but I don’t think he saw us. Gharials grabbed us and forced us into a line with a half a hundred other human men, and we were all marched here.

  “Although clearly,” Sorrow frowned, “you are not human.”

  “No,” he laughed, “I was put in The Games, as a fighter, expected I suppose to be gored or eaten to death by any number of the fucking crazy things they wanted me to fight. But I was lucky that I had caught the eye of one of the goddesses, the guardian no less – and she bid a very high price to keep me not as a fighter, but as,” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down, “a lover.”

  “Christ,” Sorrow shook her head, “and Etienne?”

  “Same,” Raphael laughed, “but he was kept in The Games. He has survived through his fighting prowess and his wits. Obviously, he can’t compete with the renown I can command through my expertise in the bedroom – something you have yet to sample, but when you do…”

  Sorrow snorted and poured herself a drink.

  “So that is why Etienne is battling dragons on horseback?”

  “It is part of his charm,” Raphael laughed, “his mistress likes to see him win, likes to show him off to all the other ladies, and likes to rake in the money. The highest bidder gets him for the night – the bidding, I understand, will start later this evening, silent auction, in the Glass Ballroom.”

  “Indeed,” Sorrow smirked, “do you know, Raphael, that I have worked here for months, been paid for months, and yet never found anything I wanted to buy.”

  “Oh, come on,” he shook his head, “you don’t see me for two years, still owe me a victory fuck I might add, but you plan to abandon me and bid on a little French man.”

  “Oh, he is not little,” Sorrow snorted, “he tells me that all the time – so it must be true.”

  “In all seriousness though,” Raphael said when they both stopped laughing, “we really need to get the fuck out of here.”

  “I know,” she replied, all laughter gone from her voice, “but first I need to figure out how to get that torc off your necks.”

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  “That is the mission I have given Judgment tonight. Bed a goddess and learn the secrets of the torcs. I guess we have to hope he gets lucky.”

  “He will need more than luck if he is trying to weasel that information,” Raphael said dryly, “I tried for years and learned nothing.”

  Sorrow put her drink down and frowned, she could only concern herself with one thing at a time, and right now, she had an auction to attend.

  “Mon Dieu,” Etienne smiled, kissing both her cheeks repeatedly, “but you are a sight for sore eyes.”

  “So, I guess you are not sorry you were purchased for the evening by a mere Earthborn?” she chuckled, resting her head against his chest for a moment and allowing herself a second to feel safe within his arms.

  “You have no idea,” he groaned.

  Laughing,
she pulled away and walked to the bar at the side of her room to pour them both drinks.

  “What have you learned, Etienne?”

  All business, he got straight to the point, answering as he so often did, without her having to quantify what she wanted to know.

  “The Gharials are brought in, operated on and sent to The Fist. Tcrazedhere are no male gods here, the red leaders are born here, the findailes are brought in and operated on, much like the Gharials before being sent out to war – and the only way out of here is to steal a spacecraft. Unfortunately, neither our winged friend nor I know how to fly them.”

  “And the torcs?”

  “My darling girl, if I knew how to get this off my neck you and I would not be meeting here right now.”

  “Right,” she grimaced, “so why are they still making you fight in the games, given your, well, obvious accomplishments in the bedroom.”

  “Don’t tell me you bid so high because you seek to sample my charms, finally?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I am, as we have already ascertained some time ago, ma cherie, sterile. The human men who are usually retained here for pleasure are not. This is the only reason I can possibly think of. We were tested as soon as we arrived here and separated into groups. Several men with me were sent to The Fist, never to return, I have no idea what became of them.”

  “I do,” Sorrow shuddered, thinking of the Findailes large appetites.

  “But I was not sent after one of the goddesses caught me winking at her and decided to have a little fun and put me in The Games. Fortunately, my dragon-hunting and monster slaughtering skills are, apparently, second to none – who would have thought?”

  “Nothing you do surprises me,” Sorrow shook her head and laughed gently. “But tell me, have you seen Shu? Is she the guardian?”

  “Well, this is something interesting,” Etienne smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting it for Sorrow to join him as he crossed his long legs and sipped his drink; “the guardian is just a normal god, voted in I think, I’m not sure about that. But as for Shu, that crazy bitch is dead.”