Dark Matter

by Luke Donegan

  The dragon curled around the griffin’s upper jaw and snapped at the beast’s ear, tearing strips of hairy flesh away with its teeth. Its small front claws raked at the griffin’s large eyes. It wrapped its body and tail around the griffin’s neck, twice, three times, contracting in an attempt to crush its enemy.

  But any damage that was done was repaired moments later by Dark Matter.

  The creatures fell to the floor. Tiles and foundation stone were pulverized to dust on impact. The creatures, wrapped in a tight embrace, rolled across the floor past the fallen statue. Jaime and a group of emu people leapt from the creatures’ path. A group of soldiers were not fast enough to avoid the oncoming wall of wings and bodies and fell beneath the griffin and dragon. Their bodies melted in a flash of golden Passage as both dragon and griffin consumed their meager Spirits.

  Buoyed by the taste of Spirit, the griffin gained its feet. It crunched harder on the dragon and shook its head from side to side, loosening the dragon’s grip around its neck. It lifted a paw and swiped at the dragon’s head. The dragon roared and fire sprayed the griffin’s face.

  Closing its eyes to shield them against the flames, the griffin flapped its great wings, lifting them both above the littered floor.

  The wings beat down and the creatures rocketed upwards. They smashed through the ceiling into the bright, hot sky above the Museum. Glass and debris rained down amongst the unstoppable black tide of soldiers as they swept into the building.

  The Spirit world punched into their world, and Saskareth’s heart rose as Erys transformed. Here was a champion who could save them. But it pained him as the Spirits collided and the dragon fell back across the foyer.

  “Gob! Gob! Gob!” he cried, regaining his feet. He, the emu people, and the soldiers alike forgot the battle as they watched the two creatures clash in the foyer. Fire, smoke and dust filled the air, and through the haze the creatures fought, each tearing at the other’s flesh and eyes.

  Saskareth cried out in warning as the creatures rolled across the floor towards his companions. They leapt aside. But a group of soldiers were not as fast. Saskareth clutched his chest as these soldiers burst into golden flames. He felt his own Passage calling.

  And with horror he understood. Erys was not their champion at all. These creatures would devour them all. The griffin and the dragon. They needed to feed, and his people were abundant in Spirit.

  With an incredible effort he melted back into human form. “Builder!” he cried over the roaring creatures and the sound of falling rubble. He dragged the man beside him to his feet. “Builder. We must retreat to the Nature Dome.”

  The griffin’s wings unfurled as it lifted itself and the dragon into the air. They smashed through the glass ceiling and disappeared into the sky beyond. Saskareth and the others shielded their faces as glass rained down amongst them.

  “Umawari!” he cried. “To me! To me!”

  His companions responded as the black soldiers flooded into the foyer. Seventy or eighty remained. A score of his friends had been lost.

  Twenty friends lost on the great wind. He could feel the great wind rushing through his mind. The great wind. He could hear it shaking the world.

  The remaining Umawari joined him, the Builder and Jaime by the fallen statue’s feet. One emu man carried the body of the Scion-Doctor over his shoulders. Saskareth could not tell if the young man was alive or dead.

  One emu woman struggled with a limping companion slowly across the floor. The oncoming soldiers overran them, and Saskareth watched helplessly as his friends fell beneath a wave of black figures and swinging batons.

  “To the Nature Dome,” he ordered.

  They ran as a tight group into the Museum’s main corridor. The emu people dragged the slower humans with them. Behind them the Commander strode into the foyer, stepping over rubble and bodies. He pointed a spiked hand at the retreating emu people.

  “Gresh! Gresh’arar!” he ordered.

  On his command soldiers leapt across the foyer. The emu people were only fifty feet ahead as the army swept into the corridor behind them.

  Saskareth looked over his shoulder as he ran. A black wall of uniforms thundered towards them. The sound of their boots mixed with the sound of rushing wind. His group emerged into the junction room from which corridors led off to the three domes.

  “This way!” led the Builder.

  But Saskareth knew they would not gain the dome. The soldiers approached too quickly.

  He closed his eyes briefly against the pain in his chest. Could they feel it too? The great wind tugging on his Spirit. His Passage was near, beginning in the core of his heart.

  The army was almost upon them. Led by Gilmagesh ten of his companions peeled off the sides of their group and turned to face the soldiers. They formed a wall across the corridor linking arms. They raised their blue-black beaks, and braced their feet.

  “Gob! Gob! Gob!” cried Gilmagesh as the on-coming soldiers crashed into their barrier.

  They pecked and tore with their beaks, kicked with powerful legs. But they kept their arms linked as batons and fists rained down upon them. Their barrier held ...

  ... the soldiers pushed forward with the crushing weight of superior numbers.

  The emu people’s barrier held, for brief moments only.

  The unicorn exulted with the newling’s glorious taste. It drove its spiraled horn deeper into the newling’s chest, deep into its Passage. Flames roared about its head. The unicorn ignored the pain and concentrated on the taste.

  The newling’s Spirit! It tasted love for Nature. Love for people. Love for this world.

  It tasted gentleness, and strength and determination. It tasted hope. Such a mix of flavors!

  And above all, the unicorn tasted despair. All of these emotions and traits, all falling away beneath surging despair.

  Teacher! Teacher! howled the unicorn. Your wings are crushed, little bird. You will never fly again.

  The unicorn twisted its horn and drove it further. There was a snap as something broke inside the boy. The Teacher’s face awoke with horror. His mouth opened in a silent scream, golden light glowing deep within his throat.

  Despair! Despair! cried the unicorn. Your hopes and dreams, buried forever.

  The boy was broken.

  The unicorn whinnied and reared up. It waved its fore-hoofs in the air then came crashing down, slamming its hoofs into the newling’s shoulders. The boy’s neck snapped. Dark Matter bubbled up around his neck. But its flow was sluggish and weak.

  The unicorn heard voices in his mind. Wait! Save some for us. We all want to taste this delight.

  Come then, quickly.

  We are on our way.

  The Director stepped back and transformed into his human form. For the moment he was satiated. He sat back on the floor and coughed into his hand. He looked at what remained of the Teacher. Broken body. Dark Matter oozed over the form like sticky tar, but with little substance.

  Passage still burned from the boy’s chest. But it too was greatly diminished. The Director had consumed so much of his Spirit, there was little left to pass into the Spirit world.

  He would not die, for the Teacher was immortal.

  But his endless existence was condemned to be a Spiritless and broken one.

  The Director sat back and waited for his brothers and sisters to arrive.

  Erys was no more. His existence as a man had been as a reflection in a dusty mirror. Now he emerged as his true self - the dragon, and he flew through the hazy sky of this shadow world in battle with the General’s Spirit.

  But someone called to him. Erys! Erys! The caller was in terrible pain.

  The name carried on the wind. A voice lacking substance, in a language the dragon did not understand. As the griffin clawed at the dragon’s belly, the call was ignored.

  The dragon and the griffin flew high above the Museum. The tower and the coloured domes span away like a child’s toy. The city below was laid out like a checkered quilt. T
he world divided into two halves, the ocean on one side and the desert on the other. The world wheeled and spun as the Spirits turned in the sky.

  The dragon and griffin broke apart and flew higher. The dragon was swift and sleek, and moved through the air like a streamer of silver light, spiraling upwards. The griffin lacked the agility of the dragon. But its massive wings beat the air with a tremendous might. It flapped its wings and followed the dragon into the upper corridors of wind. Flames and smoke trailed behind it. Clots of soot fell into space.

  The dragon hovered above the rising griffin. The wide Earth framed the approaching creature. At the last moment the dragon slipped beneath its opponent and wrapped its body around the griffin’s front paws, rendering its claws ineffectual. The dragon snapped at the griffin’s chest, sinking teeth deep into the fur-covered flesh. It shook its head back and forth until a great chunk of meat came away in its jaws. The griffin howled as the flesh tore away. Silver light spilled like blood into the sky. But Dark Matter slumped into the wound and immediately the flesh was built anew. The dragon dropped the chunk of flesh and attacked again. The falling skin and muscle spun away into the sky, vaporising into light.

  The griffin raked at the loops of the dragon’s coiled body with its back claws. Scales and flesh stripped away. Before each new kick could fall, the dragon’s flesh was renewed.

  The dragon broke free and wrapped its body around the griffin’s wings. Together the creatures plummeted towards the earth. The blue ocean rushed towards them like a collapsing sky. A pillar of smoke trailed above.

  The General, the shadow behind this Spirit form, thought to himself: How do I vanquish Spirit? I cannot defeat it. Spirit has no form. Spirit is composed of emotions, dreams, imaginings and love.

  And the griffin roared as it fell.

  That is how I will destroy it. By destroying what it loves.

  The dragon and griffin plummeted into the ocean. Water and steam exploded in a great plume. The collision knocked their bodies apart. Instantly the griffin pushed against the water and vaulted up. It broke the surface and lifted into the air, water and steam trailing behind. It looked around, scanning the city in a great sweep. And there, on the coast, in a building a few miles south of the Museum, it spied the source of the dragon’s love. It could taste her Spirit on the wind.

  Purring with anticipation, the griffin flapped its vast wings and flew towards Ocean-Hearth.

  The Ascendant sat in his chambers in the Ascendancy. Five sat with him. The Judge. The Mother. The Supervisor. The Treasurer. The Instructor. Their chairs were in a circle, though his was the highest. Two chairs were empty. The Director was toying with the newling. And the General playing with the other. Kafka Yellis did not like empty chairs. Truthfully, he was only happy when they were together. His brothers and sisters, companions on this endless journey.

  Usually it was featureless, like a desert road running straight towards the distant horizon. No corners, no landmarks of any interest. But today! What a day! He had not been this excited since his early days as a mortal man, splitting the quark, unleashing Dark Matter. His day of becoming. It had seeped through his veins like blood. And then his first taste of Spirit. He had been blinded by ecstasy. Overwhelmed by power.

  That day – he would never forget it.

  Then the world had changed. Loss and decline. The human race almost destroyed. The extinction of species. Passage running riot in the universe.

  They had done this and they had felt the guilt. But not for long. Guilt soon fades when one lives forever.

  The Ascendancy chamber was open to the firmament. From the washed-out sky golden light fell like a soft rain. The Spirits of lifeforms from this planet and from planets throughout the galaxy. Lifeforms that had come to Passage, and had flown on the great wind to this place, to be food for the Ascendancy. It was here they fed on the life of the universe.

  But the Director and the General are feeding elsewhere, thought Kafka Yellis.

  The Director is feeding on the newling, he told the others.

  Feeding? But I thought the newlings were to join us? asked the Mother. We don’t want empty shells sitting here. Make him stop.

  The Ascendant felt the Director’s mind, his joy and exhilaration. The Director was gorging himself. He would not be stopped.

  The dragon can join us, he told his companions. This phoenix is a meal to be shared. We can dance around his empty shell for eternity.

  The others leapt into the Director’s mind and felt what he was experiencing.

  Wait! they insisted. Save some for us. We all wish to taste this delight.

  Come quickly, the Director told them.

  We will. We are on our way.

  The Ascendants rose, carefully removed their golden masks and placed them gently on side-tables beside their chairs. Together they transformed into their Spirit forms. Creatures all, with wings to fly on the great wind.

  The Supervisor was a serpent, not unlike the dragon, with scales of gold. The Mother transformed into an insect, a scorpion-fly with serrated jaws for cutting and biting. The Judge’s form suggested an owl, with silver eyes and a copper, turned beak. The Treasurer became a reptile with wide, leathery green wings. The Instructor was a fish-like beast with massive jaws and a tapered tail.

  But all paled behind the glory of the Ascendant in his Spirit form. A golden, spotted hyena with white teeth and black gums. Small red eyes, quick and hungering. And his wings, as they unfurled from his body were bright coloured wings of red and blue and yellow, like those of a butterfly but a thousand times larger.

  The Ascendant rose above the chamber and emerged through its open ceiling into the blinding, gold-hazed morning.

  The Spirit creatures hooted and hissed and barked as they followed their leader. The great wind buoyed them into the sky. They soared above the buildings of the Ascendancy. Far across the city they spied the General playing with the silver dragon. As they watched, the General and the dragon plummeted from the sky into the distant ocean.

  They turned towards the Museum. The hyena Spirit led the group across the short span of sky, and within minutes the six creatures were circling the tower. At the Ascendant’s command they ploughed in, smashing through its outer walls.

  Windows and walls exploded. The creatures passed through the tower as if it were paper and alighted on the hospital floor surrounding the Director and the newling. But their wings and bulk had destroyed the integrity of the building. Debris flowed out into the sky.

  The walls slowly collapsed and the tower above the damage leisurely toppled to the side. With the sound of tearing metal and exploding stone the tower broke free and plummeted into the roof of the Science Dome. The red dome crumpled inwards as the gallery, the holographic system, the viewing platform and the hover cars were obliterated in moments. A mushroom cloud of rising dust ballooned up, consuming the other domes and the remaining half-spire of the tower.

  The Director and his six Spirit brothers and sisters stood amidst the blinding dust on the open hospital floor. Portions of ragged wall remained and beyond, a six hundred feet drop to the ground.

  The remains of the Teacher lay on the rubble-strewn floor. The creatures approached cautiously, as if the newling would suddenly spring to life and attack them with a barrage of Dark Matter. But the newling was as close to dead as immortality would allow. There would be no counter attack.

  The Ascendant folded his wings and gingerly stepped up to the still body. Quickly, he snapped with his jaws and tore off one of the boy’s legs. Dark Matter did not reform the leg. It was not essential to life. The Ascendant crunched the leg and swallowed it in a gulp. It tasted the meaty scent of flesh, just an under-taste. For it was overwhelmed by a far stronger flavor.

  The boy’s Spirit was overwhelming, what was left of it. The Director had gorged himself and little remained. But there was enough to send the Ascendant into rapture.

  He lifted his head and howled, and the sound rose above the dust and the sound of settling
rubble. He urged his family forward.

  Feast, my brothers and sisters.

  The Spirit creatures leapt at the little body on the floor. Hungry and voracious, they bit and pulled and tore. They growled and snapped at each other, butting others aside to get at the morsel remaining. Their claws scrabbled on the slippery floor for purchase. The Ascendant growled and shoved the Judge aside to win a shred of meat still unconsumed.

  Dark Matter worked to re-knit Jay’s head and heart and lungs. Just enough to sustain this feeding frenzy, just enough to keep him alive in this unending horror ...

  ... immortal ...

  ... beyond life...

  ... and beyond hope.

  The sacrifice of Gilmagesh and his companions gave the others time to reach the Nature Dome. The Builder held the door, urging the emu people through. Saskareth led them through. Beyond the stragglers the mass of soldiers quickly approached.

  “Run!” urged the Builder.

  As the last figure vaulted through, he and Saskareth swung the heavy doors together. The Builder snapped down floor bolts and the Umawari hefted their shoulders against the doors as the soldiers collided into them from the other side.

  The doors shifted with the collision but held. The Builder felt each blow from the other side shudder through his body. He could hear the soldiers massing in the corridor.

  “Will they hold?” asked Saskareth.

  “No. They have a battering ram.”

  “We must strengthen the doors. Umawari, help me.”

  Saskareth and the emu people moved into the Nature Dome searching for heavy objects. The Builder knelt on the grass beside Jaime and the unconscious figure of the Scion-Doctor.

  “How is he?” asked the Builder.

  Jaime looked up, his eyes wasted and broken. “He is alive.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Jaime looked like a ghost.