The Worshippers and the Way

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by Hugh Cook


  It was.

  Of course.

  And in its ruins there was something silver, something curiously winking-glinting. Cautiously, Hatch stooped. And picked it up. It was a small thing and a heavy thing, a thing heavier than lead, heavier than gold, heavier than depleted uranium. It was made of an intricate interweaving of shining wires, and it shimmered with its own unquenchable light.

  Hatch knew what it was.

  The thing which Asodo Hatch had found in the ruins of the dorgi was a mazadath, otherwise known as an Integrated Stabilizer.

  In the technical literature of the Nexus, a lot of bold and confident jargon surrounded the nature and use of such devices. A mazadath lay at the heart of every Nexus machine which manipulated probability. A mazadath protected such a machine from being digested by the hazardous forces it manipulated. That was the theory, in any case - thought this mazadath appeared to have failed this dorgi!

  The Nexus was a civilization based on the manipulation of probability, and a mazadath was an essential part of any machine designed to manipulate probability - but the uncomfortable truth was that humans could neither understand nor manufacture any such thing as a mazadath. The Nexus had purchased mazadaths in bulk from the Vangelis, a race of partially-disembodied alien creatures also known as the Shining Ones. Had it not been for the Vangelis, the entire transcosmic civilization of the Nexus would have been quite impossible.

  So now Hatch had in his possession one of the essential components required for the building of a machine which could manipulate probability; though he knew full well that the supporting technologies were so complex that no such task could possibly be brought to fruition within his own lifetime.

  Still -

  Hatch realized he was unconsciously engaging in an extended exercise in delay, for he was fearful of what lay ahead. Paraban Senk, the Teacher of Control who ruled the Combat College, was obviously not willing to let him leave. So he had to go onwards. A confrontation with Senk lay ahead of him, and Hatch was by no means sure that he would survive such a confrontation.

  After all, if Senk got really angry with Hatch, then Senk could cancel the manufacture of food in the Combat College cafeteria. That way, Hatch would ultimately starve to death, if Senk continued to refuse to allow him out through the lockway. Or maybe Senk could pump all the air out of the Combat College. Was that possible? Hatch didn't know. But he had an uneasy suspicion that he might get round to finding out. The hard way.

  Still.

  He had no choice.

  So, having pocketed the mazadath - it would make a nice souvenir, if he lived - Asodo Hatch strode on down the corridor.

  Making for Forum Three.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Paraban Senk: the Teacher of Control, the great Educator which dwells in the heart of Cap Foz Para Lash. This asma has long had one great priority: to train Startroopers for the Stormforce of the Nexus. And now it is outraged: because Asodo Hatch has taken the Free Corps in ambush, destroying almost all of the Combat Cadets and Startroopers in Dalar ken Halvar.

  I slept to know -

  And knowing nothing knew -

  And waking knew of nothing so

  Gave to my edge that speed:

  And drew.

  Forum Three was quiet. Silent. The empty banks of seats sloped steeply down to the stage on which Asodo Hatch and Lupus Lon Oliver had so recently dueled each other in debate. Above that stage was the big display screen which had shown to the world the battles in which Hatch and Lupus had dueled each other with singlefighters and MegaCommand Cruisers.

  The screen was blank.

  Silent.

  "Senk?" said Hatch.

  No answer.

  No response.

  Very well.

  Hatch could play this waiting game.

  Hatch sat himself down, folded his arms, and closed his eyes.

  Shortly, a brightening of the room made itself apparent through his eyelids. Hatch opened his eyes. The big screen above the lecture theater's stage was now dominated by the chosen face of Paraban Senk.

  "Welcome, Hatch," said Senk.

  "And to you, welcome," said Hatch.

  Which was a token of the stress he was under, for Hatch was guest rather than host, therefore it was not for him to extend hospitality to Senk.

  "Have you come for your daughter?" said Senk. "Or for your wife? Or is it perhaps the Lady Iro Murasaki whom you seek?"

  "I seek all of those," said Hatch.

  "Well I for my part," said Senk, "I seek Manfred Gan Oliver and his colleagues and companions."

  "They will be produced in due course," said Hatch.

  "Don't test my wits!" said Senk. "My spies have given me a full account."

  "Your spies?" said Hatch.

  "Call them what you will," said Senk. "But many have come to the kinema to witness the disaster. Messenger boys and others."

  "You trust to messenger boys for strategic information?" said Hatch, endeavoring to ape amazement.

  "Hatch," said Senk, "this is no time for jokes. I am grossly upset with you. Unless you have mastered the fine art of the resurrection of the dead, you are shortly going to find out just how upset I really am. You have slaughtered almost all those Startroopers I trained. Have you even the slightest excuse for your actions?"

  "I had to think of the political stability of Dalar ken Halvar and the fate of my people," said Hatch, as staunchly as he could.

  "That's not good enough," said Senk. "You'll have to do better than that, or I'll tear the hostages apart."

  "Tear apart?" said Hatch, struggling to stay calm.

  "You wife Talanta," said Senk. "Your daughter Onica. Your whore. Tear them apart, Hatch. That's what I'm going to do."

  "This is scarcely a constructive approach to the demands of the moment," said Hatch, with the calm that comes upon a man when he realizes the inevitability of his own death.

  "Constructive approach!" said Senk.

  Senk was positively apoplectic, enraged beyond belief by Hatch's sanguinity. But the more Senk's rage wrathed up, the calmer Hatch got - that very calm feeding Senk's fury all the more.

  "For a computational device," said Hatch mildly, "you have quite a large emotional range. Have you considered the possibility that perhaps that range is excessive?"

  "In my vengeance I am human," said Senk. "As I will prove when I deal with my hostages in my vengeance."

  "I trust you will deal with your hostages in a civilized manner," said Hatch, struggling to keep his voice level and unemotional. "We are civilized, are we not?"

  "Civilized!" said Senk. "You drench your hands in murder, you

  kill in defiance of all our agreements, you betray a trust, you break your oath to the Nexus, and after all that - "

  "I am but a poor barbarian from one of the Wild Tribes of the Permissive Dimensions," said Hatch, in an effort at leisured self-

  depreciation. "You cannot expect the high conduct of the Nexus to be reflected in the life of a barbarian such as myself. But you at least have the capacity, surely, to be truly civilized. And is not mercy the greatest of civilization's aspects?"

  "Jokes!" said Senk, responding with fury to Hatch's suave sally. "A time like this, and you indulge yourself in jokes. Very well! Then indulge yourself in this!"

  And with that, Paraban Senk's olive-complected features faded from the display screen in Forum Three. Glowing green lines divided that screen into three separate frames. And in those frames there came to life -

  Onica.

  Talanta.

  And the Lady Iro Murasaki.

  All three were standing on the sands of a rumpled desert of red dust. They were being observed by a group of tourists who appeared to have climbed out of a hover vehicle. The hover vehicle was garishly adorned with brightsign glyphs and graphics, amongst which Hatch saw a fleshpink vulva, a grinning orange sun, a dolphin spouting orangejuice, and a sign in Nexus script which identified the vehicle as the property of an organization known as Happy Hu
nting Tours.

  All three women looked grossly unhappy, and the reason appeared to be because all three were rapidly sinking into the sands of the desert. As Hatch watched, the desert floor rocked.

  Onica screamed. Ants were swelling from the desert, cascading into hugeness, their mandibles razor-sharp.

  "Watch, Hatch!" roared Senk, in a grotesquely amplified voice-over.

  But Hatch did not watch. His hand was moving, had a life of his own, was reaching, was drawing. Not a sword but a knife. A knife, but knife enough. His hand clutched, struck, disembowelled.

  Down went Hatch in the agony of spillage, his hand griping and writhing as the intolerable pain sent it into spasm.

  - Properly. Do it properly.

  So thought Hatch in his agony.

  And, falling, Hatch steadied the knife, and speared it into his body as he fell, driving home the blade with the full force of his earthly collapse.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Cure-all clinic: a Combat College facility which has wide-ranging powers to repair injury and restore health.

  So laid against the pillow -

  To meet with monsters, meet

  Decapitating death, and yet -

  The dawn -

  Asodo Hatch woke in the cure-all clinic to find his sister Penelope - no, she was Joma, he would make no concessions, Joma she had been born and Joma she must stay - bending down over him.

  "Joma," said Hatch.

  "Penelope," said she.

  "Penelope, then," said Hatch, too weak to argue the point.

  "Penelope and Lupus," said Lupus Lon Oliver, who was sitting on the end of Hatch's bed. "The love of Penelope in balance with the wrath of Lupus."

  Lupus did not look particularly wrathful at that precise moment, but Hatch could well imagine that in this case appearances might be deceptive. Hatch was not sure of the exact nature of his own circumstances, so sent out a tentative probe.

  "What is the measure of this love?" said Hatch. "Penelope's love, of which you have spoken?"

  "She carried you here," said Lupus. "When you lay in the rubble of your bowels, Penelope scooped you up and labored you all the way to this clinic here."

  "How came she to know of my wounding?" said Hatch.

  "Your wounding!" said Lupus. "It was suicide!"

  Hatch let that pass, then said:

  "But she came."

  "Senk called us," said Lupus. "He lacks facilities for the cartage of bodies, hence needed our arms and our legs for the purpose."

  "Where were you two hiding?"

  "Hiding?" said Lupus. "We weren't hiding at all."

  "We were on our honeymoon," said Penelope.

  "Your honeymoon!?" said Hatch.

  "Earlier," said Lupus, "Paraban Senk was kind enough to officiate at our marriage. Then we entered the combat bays. Where else would we go for a honeymoon? To Dalar ken Halvar, perhaps? To indulge in the delights of the Day of the Dogs, perhaps? No, Hatch. We went to the Nexus."

  This struck Hatch as being exceedingly bizarre: that two people should choose the illusion tanks as the venue for their honeymoon. Still, it was in keeping with Lupus Lon Oliver's aspirations, for Lupus truly wanted to be a citizen of the Nexus.

  "Where did you go?" said Hatch.

  "To jungles of ice and beaches of marzipan," said Penelope dreamily. "To seas of fire and skies of liquid treacle."

  "Meantime," said Lupus, "you were busily engaged in killing my father."

  Hatch lay in his combat clinic bed, trying to gauge his own strength. He found himself decidedly weak. He was in no position to duke or duel with Lupus. Hence decided that silence was the best policy.

  "Never mind," said Lupus. "My father stood between me and my marriage, so ... Hatch, let us not let my father's death stand between you and me."

  This was said with a degree of studied formality, and with a certain stiffness. Hatch remembered back to an illusion tank exercise in which he had suggested to Lupus that the pair of them conspire to kill Gan Oliver. Given the ferocity with which Lupus had reacted on that occasion, Hatch found it hard to credit the young man's present forgiveness.

  Hatch rather suspected that Paraban Senk, the venerable Teacher of Control, had put considerable pressure on Lupus, in order to coerce Lupus into making a peace with Hatch.

  Still:

  "I am ashamed of myself," said Hatch, making the confession though every word of it cost him dearly. "I acted in fear and in haste, and I regret it. I should have given Gan Oliver the chance to make his peace with me."

  "That's as may be," said Lupus, still speaking with a pronounced stiffness. "Still, that was a different world, and we must make our lives in this one."

  Then Lupus formally congratulated Hatch on making himself emperor of Dalar ken Halvar; and of killing the lockway's dorgi;

  and of outfacing Paraban Senk.

  "That reminds me," said Hatch, accepting these congratulations, and not finding it necessary to disclaim responsibility for the dorgi's death. "In the corpse of the dorgi I discovered a trinket."

  "This trinket," said Penelope, displaying that mazadath, which she had slung round her neck on a chain of a metal which matched the mazadath's silver.

  "Precisely," said Hatch. "That trinket."

  "This," said Penelope, "is a wedding present."

  "Who gave it to you?" said Hatch.

  "You did," said Penelope.

  And Hatch did not feel that he was in a position to argue. In any case, Lupus denied him all opportunity for argument, for Lupus said (still with a measured stiffness which spoke of unresolved homicidal impulses):

  "This must conclude our interview, for now we must withdraw, for Paraban Senk wishes to speak with you privily."

  Then the young redskinned Ebrell Islander Lupus Lon Oliver withdrew with his purple-skinned bride, the voluptuous Penelope, and Hatch was left alone in the Combat College's sickbay.

  "Hatch," said Senk, his olive-skinned features coming to life on a display screen in the cure-all clinic. "Are you ready to negotiate?"

  "I am in no position to negotiate," said Hatch. "For I am flat on my back and weak from my wounding. You have the strength

  of two people at your disposal, young Lupus and his bride, and I think the pair of them will do what you want. Furthermore, you still have three hostages. I am at your disposal. Accept my surrender."

  Hatch surrendered thus because he did not want a repeat of the horrific moments in which Onica, Talanta and the Lady Iro Murasaki had been exposed to some fraction of the hidden hell which lay within the illusion tank scenarios.

  "If I could accept your surrender then I would," said Senk.

  "But I cannot."

  Hatch thought about this.

  Then said:

  "Then kill me. You have the means."

  Senk certainly had the means, at least in the cure-all clinic, for the clinic's built-in surgical equipment could easily be adapted to the lethal dissection of the living.

  "You misunderstand me," said Senk. "I cannot accept your surrender, because I have been forced to surrender to you."

  "How so?" said Hatch.

  Then Senk explained

  After Asodo Hatch had failed to reemerge from the Combat College, that college had been placed under an interdict by a Nu-

  chala-nuth priesthood led by Hatch's brother Oboro Bakendra and by the noseless ex-moneylender Polk the Cash. Under the terms of that interdict, no person would be allowed into the Combat College until Asodo Hatch had been yielded up by that College, alive and well.

  "They say," said Senk, "that if you cannot be yielded up, then I will be deprived of new students forever. I will be similarly deprived unless I co-operate in teaching the doctrines of Nu-chala-nuth and the language of Motsu Kazuka."

  "So," said Hatch, "it is your destiny to become a theological college."

  "My overriding priority is to train Startroopers for the Stormforce of the Nexus," said Senk. "I must do whatever is necessary to fulfill that objecti
ve. So, if I must teach theology as well - why, it is considered fit and proper that Startroopers should know of the Nu-chala-nuth and their language."

  "I will need more from you than that," said Hatch.

  "More?" said Senk. "Isn't this enough?"

  "Not much more," said Hatch. "But a little more. The cure of my wife, if cure be possible. I trust you have the woman still."

  "She is safe in the worlds of the Nexus," said Paraban Senk.

  "Her flesh is still seated in a combat bay, but her mind is at ease in a deer-park forest. Penelope has spoken with her."

  "She has?"

  "Of course," said Senk. "Penelope has been working very hard on your behalf, Hatch. She has made Lupus Lon Oliver concede his will to our truce. I will treat with your wife in this clinic, Hatch, and I will cure her if her cure lies in my compass."

  "Do you think it does?" said Hatch.

  "I will discover the truth under surgery," said Senk.

  "There will be others who will have need of surgery," said Hatch.

  "Hatch," said Senk, "I am but one, and Dalar ken Halvar alone could flood this clinic with more surgical cases than could be treated inside the surgery."

  "Selected cases," said Hatch. "That's all I'll need you to treat. I'm no wizard, yet must secure an empire. Polk the Cash has need of a nose, and Nambasa Berlin likewise. And there will be others."

  "Tell me of these others," said Senk.

  And thus the pair of them opened their negotiations in earnest.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Great God Mokaragash: aka the Greater Lord: aka He Who Sees Without Eyes: the ruling deity of the Frangoni people. He is believed to be immanent in the great idol found in the precincts of Temple Isherzan, the Frangoni temple which stands on the Frangoni rock. At that temple, the Great God Mokaragash is served by Frangoni priests, these priests being ruled by Sesno Felvus, who is the High Priest of the Great God Mokaragash, and who is therefore the ethnarch of the Frangoni people in Dalar ken Halvar.

 

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