Torment of the Ancient Gods

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Torment of the Ancient Gods Page 6

by Craig Robertson


  “Directed, you say? Well, truth be told, who can say. I theorize if you submit to the beam long enough you will maybe be transported out of my universe. Whether you end up in the universe you desire to visit, well, that's more challenging for me to predict.” He pointed at Gáwar.

  “Freeze,” commanded Gáwar.

  Vorc did just that, covered with frost and all. Freeze was in this case a command and a spell.

  “I try and be nice. What does it get me? Absolutely nothing. I try and work with others constructively. What does it get me? It's thrown back in my face. Well I'm done being Mr. Nice Guy and it's your fault, Vorc the Boss Dork.”

  Though it was not easy given his length, Gáwar made a show of turning and exiting in a haughty manner.

  Vorc remained frozen until Gáwar went to sleep that night. When he finally thawed, Vorc wished ardently that Gáwar never needed to sleep. That would have been an easy out.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Blessing landed near a clearing on the planet with the most unsexy name of α-933-Pistoler. It was a highly habitable but sparsely populated world. Flora abounded almost to excess, but the fauna was nearly absent. It was a quizzical combination of life. On a typical Class M+ planet such as α-933-Pistoler, such riotous vegetation would encourage the evolution of a complex and vibrant animal population. Yet there were hardly even many insects.

  Sapale led the landing party. She was flanked by Toño, with Mirraya and Daleria following close behind. They had come to examine the second unusual set of remains that were purportedly those of an ancient god. It was easy enough to find the body. The rich atmosphere of α-933-Pistoler accelerated its decay. The stench was abhorrent. The two androids switched off their olfactory sensors. Mirraya said a quiet spell to ward off the odor. That left poor Daleria alone in having to deal with the intolerable situation. When she was still a soccer pitch away, she began vomiting. By the time the team was stopped at the carcass her stomach was empty. She continued to wretch something awful. Sapale asked if she wanted to wait by the vortex but the rookie felt it was important to prove herself, so she remained with the group.

  “I'd say the body's been dead several weeks,” said Toño. “The lack of predation and insect activity make that only an educated guess.”

  “I'll take your word on that. It's sure been dead long enough to stink to high heaven,” replied Sapale. She set a hand on Daleria's shoulder and waited for her current set of dry heaves to pass. “Do you recognize him?”

  “Y … yes.” She wretched again. “That's definitely what's left of Tramaster.”

  “I wonder why his tail is all the way over there?” asked Mirraya.

  “What tail?” responded Sapale.

  “He had an invisible tail with sharp barbs,” announced Daleria. “You can see it?” she questioned Mirraya.

  “Plain as day.”

  “Yeah, keep in mind she's a witch,” quipped Sapale. “I have four eyes and I can't.”

  “Impressive,” commented Daleria.

  Mirraya shrugged her scaled shoulders.

  “I'm of the opinion that Tramaster was beaten to death,” said Toño. He pointed to the surrounding terrain. “There are deep pockmarks there and there suggesting a powerful struggle. That tree is nearly snapped in half. Someone hit it pretty hard. And the beast's throat’s been opened, but not by a knife. The wound is too ragged and too deep.”

  “I'd say there was a struggle, but one person was doing the struggling and the other was doing the damaging,” added Mirraya. “See the footprints? All of the ones leading away from the impacts are Tramaster's. In fact, I don't see a single other imprint.” She walked over to a clear spot. “This seems to be the center of the activity. But look,” she angled a claw, “there's no scuffs or dents. The center of activity was perfectly spared.”

  Toño rubbed at the back of his neck. “I believe you're correct, my dear. You are impressive.”

  “Just a trained eye thanks to my uncle,” she responded. “So the killer looks to me to have been seated or somehow elevated. Otherwise there'd be signs.”

  “Elevated on … what?” asked Daleria before she dry heaved again. “I … there's nothing here.”

  “No,” Mirraya agreed, “there isn't. And if there was, there're no tire tracks or other indications it was removed.”

  “Maybe the killer was levitating?” wondered Sapale.

  Toño's head bobbed. “Possibly. His or her leverage would be pretty poor if they were.”

  “Flying?” Daleria queried quickly.

  “No dust streaks consistent with wing beats,” observed Mirraya, who possessed impressive wings that validated her opinion.

  “Well the killer couldn't very well have been sitting on an elevated throne,” snapped Sapale. “That would be just silly.”

  “Not a throne,” responded Mirraya. “A bed or sofa. Yes, that would fit. The killer was resting in this idyllic spot and Tramaster happened across him. The other person killed Tramaster with ease from his resting loft. Then when he was done he disappeared, bed and all.”

  “Why a bed and not a throne?” responded Toño. “I don't think we'll ever be able to tell.”

  “Toño, who rests in a pretty clearing on a stiff chair? No, he'd at the very least string up a hammock. But a classy guy would have a soft bed covered with fluffy pillows,” concluded Mirraya. “That's my bet.”

  “Fine, some prince was napping and Tramaster disturbed his loftiness's beauty rest. The fact remains the lazing foo-foo killed a Cleinoid god with such ease he didn't have to even lift his head off his feather pillow. That's a powerful dude,” remarked Sapale.

  “Yes, it would have to be,” agreed Mirraya. “And it wasn't EJ. He'd never lounge on a luxurious bed in the middle of the forest.”

  “Copy that,” concurred Sapale. “He hates resting in any form and would positively never recline himself on a bed.”

  “That leaves who?” Mirraya wondered out loud. “I don't know anyone that powerful. If such a force existed I'm certain I would.”

  “Another Cleinoid?” asked Toño.

  “Possibly,” replied Mirraya. “I don't know, Daleria, would one god kill another?”

  “Yes, but they'd need to have a reason. If one was taking a nap and another chanced upon him, I don't see such a thing happening.”

  “What does that leave?” asked Sapale with clear frustration.

  “An antigod,” whispered Daleria.

  “A what?” shot back Mirraya. “I've never heard of one of those.”

  “We call them antigods. You might know them by some other name.”

  “I don't know of any creature real or legendary who would be capable of this.” Mirraya gestured toward the body.

  “Then welcome to the world of the antigods.”

  “Huh?” responded Sapale.

  “If they are here, then we're all their bitches. Just saying,” mumbled Daleria.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Carol lolled in the blazing sun. Her pebbles were warm and toasty, just the way she liked them. Life was, as it always had been, good. Hey, being an Apractolith god was a good starting place from which to achieve lifelong bliss. Unlimited power, immortality, and an excellent benefits package. What more could one want?

  In the back of her awareness Carol sensed Vorioc. He was returning, or he had never left. She had trouble remembering which was which. In any case, he was near. Her interlude of warming and rest was sure to be over. He was such a needy spouse. If he didn't nag her to get him something he would regale her with his outstandingness, his transcendent superbness.

  “Must you be here, dearest?” she asked herself.

  “Of course,” he responded, since they were one but two. They knew each other's thoughts as they did their own. “How else can I love you?”

  “There's always the mail. A card now and then would be sufficient I'm sure.”

  “Never,” he exclaimed robustly. Vorioc lifted his wife off her platform and enshrouded her with an embrace. “This is
how a man loves a woman.”

  “Nice of you to demonstrate, eternal. However I am not a woman and you are not a man. Your reference is thus meaningless.”

  “But my love is not.” The covering he formed around her opened like a flower and held her up in the center.

  Carol looked about. “So I am now the stamen of some grotesque flower? How less than flattering.”

  Never, devotion. You are the pistil. Please try and keep the boy/girl thing straight.”

  “If it will help silence you, I will.”

  “Such harsh words. And here I am returning to my home and hearth triumphant. I deserve a parade of angels at the very least.”

  “And so you will have. I, being neither triumphant nor an angel, will remain here sunning.”

  “Come, come. You must ask what I triumphed over. Yes, it's required of you as my number-one fan.”

  What a revolting thought. Carol hadn't signed up for that level of devotion. Best to humor him, however, or he'd never leave her be. “Say, husband, what did you best just recently? Some indomitable force, some juggernaut of power?”

  “Yes. Well almost. I was resting in my fifteenth favorite napping spot when I was attacked by Tramaster. It was horrific. I was only moments earlier forced to dispatch something called Selsify.”

  “What are those? Forms of guilt or remorse?”

  “Me? Remorse? Never. No, they were Cleinoid gods. Can you believe it? Cleinoids attacking me.”

  “Perhaps they knew you. That would cause most anyone to attack.”

  “That was just it. Neither recognized me. I had to tell them who I was.” He chuckled. “Pointless Cleinoids.”

  “We've had to deal with them for quite some time. Annoying they were and annoying they remain.”

  “No, perpetual. We dealt with them. They left and returned to their pigsty universe. Don't you remember? It was, oh a long time ago.”

  “Are you certain? I don't recall them leaving.”

  “Hasn't it been peaceful of late?”

  She sat up. “Now that you mention it, yes it has. Those pesky Cleinoids were gone. Bother.”

  “Now it appears they are back.”

  “It is too soon,” she whined. “Now I shall not be perfectly happy. You know how that makes me cross.”

  “And a cross wife leads only to strife.”

  “Could you come closer? I'd like to gut you for that last remark.”

  “Perhaps in a moment, aspiration.”

  “I know. Why don't you go and slay the lot of them before they have a chance to fluster me? I'd be ever so appreciative.” She rattled her hips.

  “Promises promises. No, I don't feel like slaying the lot of them. Do you know how much effort that would require?”

  “No. How much?”

  “Hmm. I don't know either, but I'm certain it'd be a lot, definitely more than none.”

  “Are you otherwise busy, weighted down, or preoccupied?”

  “No, but I might be soon. One never knows. Why just yesterday I died.”

  “It wasn't yesterday, and you returned the very next day. How hard was that? Not very, I imagine. No, if you wanted to you could find the time.”

  “Well I guess that settles it.”

  “Excellent. You'll kill them?”

  “No, I don't want to find the time. Color me lazy.”

  Carol lay back down and shut her stony eyes. “No, dear. You color yourself this time. I'm too tired.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I say it's easier and safer to find this EJ guy than an Apractolith who does not wish to be located.” Daleria spoke with firm conviction.

  “How do you know it's a he, and how do you know he doesn't want to be found?” asked Sapale.

  “The he part's a guess. The other's obvious. If the Apractoliths have lived amongst you forever and you've never even heard of them, then I'd say that's proof positive they want to be left alone.”

  “But they are threatened too,” pressed Toño.

  “No, they are not. If you were swimming far out at sea with multiple bleeding cuts and you saw several big fins coming straight at you, you'd be scared, right?” posed Daleria.

  “Yes. What does that …”

  “That's how the Cleinoids feel about the antigods. Pretty much defenseless and doomed.”

  “All right, they're not under threat. But might they not want to help us survive?” asked Toño.

  “Remember the you in the water and the shark scenario?”

  Toño nodded.

  “The way the shark feels, that's about how badly the antigods feel about you dying as a race.”

  “They're not loving, nurturing, these antigods?” mocked Sapale.

  “Not in the slightest. Self-indulgent, arrogant, and effete. Those're about the best things you can say about them.”

  “Hmm. Pity. We could have used their help.”

  “If EJ can defeat the ancient gods, can't all the Deft brindases?” Sapale asked Mirraya.

  “Not necessarily. EJ had the best teacher and unlimited time. He also wanted to learn the magic of fighting and war. Most brindases do not.”

  “How about you?” Sapale queried.

  “Me, yes. A few others, maybe. But the numbers are not favorable. Millions of Cleinoids and only a handful of us. No matter how good we were, we'd fail sooner than later.”

  “One, you don't know without trying. Two, we're all going to die anyway, so why not take the fight to them?”

  “Oh, absolutely. I was just being realistic. I want to avoid false hopes.”

  Sapale sighed. “So where can we find EJ? I can tell you I have no idea.”

  “Me either,” replied Mirraya.

  “Normally I can tell where another brindas is. EJ, however, has a spell surrounding himself that in effect cloaks him.”

  “The paranoid bastard,” huffed Sapale. “Never going to change.”

  “Apparently so. Or he wants to be left alone too. Either way I doubt we'll find either him or the antigods,” responded Mirraya.

  “We can't just give up. I don't know how long we have locally in terms of falling victim to an unstoppable onslaught, but we have to prepare for the worst,” said Toño. “Two Cleinoids were killed while ravaging this galaxy. Surely others will follow, especially if word gets out some have been killed. I was in their domain long enough to learn they're nothing if they're not spiteful.”

  “You're correct, Toño,” said Daleria. “When they learn of their comrades' fates, they will come with a vengeance.”

  “Mirraya,” asked Sapale, “you say you can't sense EJ. Might he still not be able to sense you?”

  She reflected a moment. “I suppose so, assuming he cared that much,” she responded.

  “He cares about the darnedest things. Trust me on that,” Sapale said with a grim smile. “Assuming he can, maybe you can send him a message to meet us.”

  That led to an even longer thought-break for the dragon. “If he's listening, yes, I can send a message.”

  “Tell him to meet us in one week's time at … needs to be someplace nonthreatening. Got it? On the remains of ruined Earth. Yes, talk about neutral ground.”

  “I will send that impression out. Now's not good. Too many distractions.”

  “No prob,” replied Sapale.

  “In the meantime, I'd like to return to my lab. I want to analyze the samples from the dead Cleinoids,” remarked Toño.

  “Uh, okay, but can't you do that here aboard Blessing?” asked Sapale.

  “Not as thoroughly.”

  “So be it. Daleria and I will drop you off then check out the colonies on Azsuram and Kalvarg. I've spoken with them but I'd like to make certain they're doing well.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” responded Mirraya. “You can drop us at home. Pick us up when you're heading for Earth.”

  Two billion years earlier, give or take, Earth was swallowed up by a hungry Jupiter. What was spat out was a huge dead rock. No life whatsoever remained. No water, no atmosph
ere, nothing, just barren rock. The molten core was preserved. Due to the tremendous deformation forces Earth underwent, large-scale volcanoes and lava flows returned like in primordial times. Eventually those died out too, leaving a scared and lifeless hulk. For any of the few who knew old Earth before its demise, the planet was a tearful sight to behold.

  Toño, Sapale, Mirraya, and Daleria stepped out onto the rugged surface with ample foreboding. Not only did the place look frightening, they were hoping to hook up with the always unpredictable EJ. Bad things might happen in this bad place. There was no preset meeting place, but any sign of movement or life on Earth would be easily detectable by the second party to arrive. There was none as Blessing made her slow descent. EJ either hadn't come yet or wasn't coming.

  “Als, keep a sharp eye peeled for EJ. I wouldn't want him to surprise us,” instructed Toño.

  “Understood, Form Two,” replied Blessing.

  “I can scan with our mental link too,” added Al.

  “Good idea.” Toño studied the expansive wasteland. He measured a few angles and crossed his arms. “We would be right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean if we were back on Earth before her destruction.”

  “No water to be seen now,” voiced Mirraya quietly.

  “No … hmm. I wonder what that is?” Toño remarked as he pointed off toward the horizon.

  “Since we have nothing else to do, let's go check it out,” said Sapale.

  After thirty minutes walking the group came upon a sight they would have never anticipated. A large, shallow lake of water had formed between two low mountain ranges.

  “Well I'll be damned,” exclaimed Toño. “Water has returned to Mother Earth.”

  “Water? I wasn't here, but I doubt Jupiter left any by mistake. Where'd it come from?” asked Sapale.

  “Oh I imagine the same place it did back in the day. Cometary water. There's a lot less circulating now than when the solar system was young, but it seems there's this much.”

  “Wow,” remarked Sapale. “I wonder if evolution will happen all over again?”

 

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