End Times, Inc. (A Great & Continuous Malignity)

by David S. Wellhauser

  It was getting on past noon and they needed to get going if they were going to find out what was going on in there and get out before dusk. So the group, far less easy than they’d been, climbed back on the SUVs and pushed north along The Trace. The trees where all bare, excepting a few conifers tucked in behind the trees lining the road. As they drove, Matt thought if this were early fall it would have made a nice family trip. Had the dream/vision changed him that much—he supposed it had. Much of the blood lust he was normally feeling at such moments had gone, and he was slipping back into the role of husband and father.

  Still they pushed in—two, five, and 10km.

  At about 11 km there was the first growl—from the air. Pulling over, Matt climbed out. Had to have been—it had been five years, but sooner or later they had to have made a reappearance. “What the fuck is that?” Lincoln asked. Then the neck expended and fire shot from the mouth.

  “Dragon.” Matt hung his head. “Coral, you packed SAMs?” The woman continued to gape at the creature. “Coral!”

  “Yeah.” Voice hollow and distracted. Returning to the second SUV; it took the woman a minute to review the instructions before she was ready and by that time they’d been spotted. The creature screeched out what Barney took to be a warning and he’d the others get their light and heavy weapons. As the rest of the group prepared there was an explosive roar and whoosh as the missile was launched at the creature.

  Following the explosive roar the Meta fell from the sky and the woods erupted in snarls and clumsy roars. Behind this there was some kind of rumble, followed by the snapping of branches and tree trunks, to go by the sound. First there broke ahead of them the typical humanoid Metas, but larger, almost troll-like in appearance. Following from them were tentacled creatures as Shea. Then there was a whumping sound from Noir’s grenade launcher—a blend of frags and incendiaries. The first row of Metas collapsed back but this was followed by a silent, violent tank of a creature.

  The thing had eight legs, was covered in coarse hair, and from below its face hung a gaping, fanged mouth. The rear segment bobbed up and down with what appeared to be a large, vicious stinger. Noir shrieked and backed away, dropping the launcher. What was unnerving for Matt—he couldn’t say for the others—was that where there should have been a bank of eyes there were four faces—twisted with fear, rage, and an uncomprehending madness. Matt supposed this was to be expected from Thin Man. Grabbing the launcher, Matt called back to Lincoln. “Dragon’s Breath—now!” Firing, the grenades caught the thing at unawares and two of its legs and part of one face were torn off. Following this Lincoln had got the 12 gauge and the creature was left a capering hulk of flame as Barney caught the engagement with his phone. As what remained of the arachnoid stumbled and crashed back into the woods off The Trace, Matt stepped forward and picked up one of the fangs which had been blown off.

  ***

  “Still not certain about this.” Salt said over the table, toward the conference phone.

  “Neruda,” Secretary of State Saviour Rysk answered, “will be necessary. After all, he may be one of those not only responsible for beginning this, but one of the few that knows what needs to be done to end it.”

  “Not so,” Matt retorted, “I’m probably the only one capable of ending this.” There was a lengthy silence on the other end of the call which Salt stepped into.

  “Whatever can or cannot be done, it is highly unlikely Roberto will join in the alliance. He wants the world to return to the way it was pre-conversions, which will be genocide.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Ambassador Skiff asked.

  “Yes.” Salt answered bluntly.

  “Mr. Feargal, would you agree?” The Secretary of State returned.

  “He’s probably already making plans for how this might me most effectively carried out.”

  “But recent estimates,” Ambassador Lloyd erupted, “place the global Metahuman population at approximately 25% of the Earth’s population—and that is a conservative estimate. Is he insane?”

  “No,” Jonah answered, “not mad, but he’s a vision and an ideology. You know what those two have done in the past.” There was a general silence which was both frightening and sad. Matt supposed there would have been those on the call which would have harboured the fantasy, but in reality knew there would be no way to do this without causing a global civil war. This, Matt believed, would not be just with the Metas, but the Archaics, for the most part, would not accept it. Not only those with family and friends that had been converted but those with only the slightest empathy. Whatever the world was to become, it would do so with the full participation of the Metahumans.

  “For the moment,” Ambassador Hu pushed out of this latest black hole, “we need to deal with the fact of the soft spots. What are we going to do about them?”

  “They need to be sealed.” The Secretary of State answered bluntly. There was complete agreement on this subject.

  “But how to do it?” Ambassador Razin asked, with a twinge of hopelessness.

  “We’ve been testing a Meta-explosive.” Secretary Rysk answered.

  “I believe most of our countries have.” Zhang Hu responded.

  “We have had some success, but there have been a few setbacks.” Jacob Lloyd offered. The Chinese and the Americans though were ready for field tests. The devices were non-nuclear and offered the greatest chance to bring the wholesale conversions to an end. For although the world would accept the Metas there was no interest, amongst the politicians, for everyone to become a Meta—especially after what had been revealed in the LBL. Barney had since posted the video and stills online; the result was a tectonic shudder from both Archaics and Metas. Everyone wanted Thin Man stopped—Barney had revealed more than perhaps he should have, but there was no way for Salt to close that door.

  The general agreement was to wait for the testing of the weapons on the soft spots—once they had done this the alliance could worry about what came next. There was one item which could not be put off—Zakara Botrous. “You mentioned, Mr. Feargal,” Matt uncertain whether liked the way the Secretary was using the honorific, “you are the only one that can deal with your father.” Now Salt was uncomfortable.

  “There is, sir, no one here who wants Zakara dead more than Matt.” There was a lot of throat clearing, but none agreed with the sentiment.

  “Okay, let’s catch you up on a little operation that occurred about a year ago.” Matt went into the details of Neruda’s attack on his father and its failure. There was another cold silence for a moment; then an answer from Zhang Hu.

  “We’ll have to look into that, but if this is correct, then why should it be only you?”

  “I was attacked by Botrous in Dilmun with his magic and it didn’t work on me.”

  “It seems, based on these two pieces of information,” Salt continued, to bring the point home, “that Zakara is Shaitan—the leader of the Red Cinn; those most hostile to humans.”

  “Why would he have to be this Shaitan?” Rysk asked with little attempt to disguise the animosity.

  “Our weapons can’t harm him; he is capable of magic at a level far beyond any Metahuman; this magic does not harm Matt because they share much of the same genetic matter.” Salt observed. “It would necessarily follow Matt should be able to kill Zakara.”

  “That,” Ambassador Pinel countered, “is an interesting hypothesis, but it certainly does not necessarily follow. It will have to be tested.”

  “Given that Matt is part Cinn it may be the only chance we have of killing him.”

  “No matter what does or does not follow,” Antonina Razin interrupted, “we need to kill this Botrous/Shaitan in order to prevent new soft spots from occurring or the Cinn entering our world?” Salt agreed. “Then we need to give Matteo a chance—since nothing else has worked.” The others, reluctantly, agreed.

  “There’s something I want for this.” After the Council had calmed down, Matt continued. “No harm is to come to either Kim Su Jin (Chin
a Bob) or our daughter Leonor.” There was fierce disagreement here, but they submitted to the request, as long as the ritual sacrifice of Leonor could be stopped, and as long as Matt killed Zakara. It wasn’t all he wanted, but the most he thought he’d get for the moment. What happened after this he could not guarantee, and did not bother to ask. But it was something.

  As the conference call ended Matt began to rise, but Jonah put out a hand. Slipping back into his seat Matt waited for whatever was coming. Meanwhile, Jonah examined the phone to make certain the call had ended. Then he got up and went over to the door—leaning out there was a smile in his voice. “The call’s over, please wait by my office. Thank you.” Closing the door, the Meta locked this; Matt was almost nervous. Sitting next to Feargal, Jonah leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice. “The room of clean,” he supposed the Meta meant of bugs, “but the walls and door are thin so we’ll need to keep are voices down.” Matt nodded, anxiously—had to be bad.

  “This can’t be news to you, but I’m going to say it anyway. There are serious concerns about what’s been written in your uncoded DNA, and what the future consequences of this will be.”

  “Through myself or my children?” Salt nodded and his long face seemed very sad—almost morose.

  “But the Archaics won’t move until after the war, when they are feeling safe—or safe enough to move.”

  “I was thinking they’d move before against me or Leonor, which is why I mentioned what I should be able to do to Zakara—hoping that would buy me time.”

  “It will, if it is correct—I hope it is. But for the time being they’ll need to keep their options open, no matter what. But I’ve had conversations with the Americans and the UN which make me nervous about later on. Having neither of you about will be too useful to let you go for long.”

  “I’m aware of that—at the moment I’m working on something.” That much was true. Once he’d the women back and Zakara sorted he was planning on disappearing in the chaos which would follow. Jonah smiled at this, but didn’t seem surprised. They’d been together too long for that to be the case.

  “There’s something else you may need to look out for, as well. When this is over—assuming any of us survives—the remaining radical/militant Metahumans may attempt to access your DNA, or that of Leonor, in an attempt to open the soft spots or bring Shaitan back.”

  “But I’m going to kill him.” Jonah shook his head.

  “You may destroy your father’s body—thereby expelling Shaitan—but you cannot kill the Cinn possessing them. Their order of life is immune to anything we may do to them. Perhaps if you were in their universe, but you’d not survive the physics there. So, killing is not an option—exorcism is about all you may realistically expect.” Exorcism? Didn’t like the implications of that word.

  “Okay, but the only one that has a chance of opening the gate is me. Leonor is a big question mark, and Zakara knows it. Yet I’m no good because Halton locked my DNA with his cure—though he’s sorry about that now.” Jonah leaned back.

  “But it may still be possible with Leonor or any other children you and China have. That’s all the Metas and the Archaics will care about; which will be enough to make them act. Of course, they may find a whole new way to bring Shaitan back—what with all the Metas in the world now there is no certainty what new gags they could come up with.”

  “Much, then, will depend on the world we end up with after the fact.” Jonah nodded.

  “I’m not certain what that will be, but it will be messy for some time.” Which was just what Matt was hoping for—perfect opportunity to slip away and get lost.

  “There is another issue we need to think about—Halton.”

  “I don’t think I...”

  “What the two of you might do to each other.”

  “That was not my fault. If he’d not gotten involved with a Transhumanist —or if she’d just left my family alone.”

  “I’m not concerned with blame—just what the two of you might do to one another.”

  “I’ve not heard anything from Halton for a while.”

  “Doesn’t that make you nervous?” It did, Edwards was not going to just go away. “With Halton not part of any of the conference calls with Roberto I’m wondering where he is, and if Neruda knows.”

  “Yes, but I’ll leave off if Edwards will leave my family alone. If he will not I will kill anyone and everyone that gets between us—for whatever reason.”

  “Then we best call Roberto again and privately enquire.”

  This call did not go well, but neither Jonah nor Matt expected it would. Neruda had been protective of his people, most especially when it came to the killing of Metas—of these the one he needed dead more than all the others was Leonor. But there was something else at work here. The old man’s tone suggested not just anxiety but fear concerning Halton. This was in itself instructive and troubling, but in what way neither could yet say.

  ***

  “You like this place?” Matt asked again, picking at the spines of the Latin and Greek works.

  “Like the desk.” Turning, Feargal smiled down at the stained oak. “I used to have one similar to this when I still practiced.” Jonah was sitting in front of the desk in one of a matched set of chairs.

  “Why am I here?” Sitting in the other chair.

  “Our people have received some news—I just got this and there may be more on the way, and I’m not certain how reliable it is. For the moment my confidence is high.”

  “Must be bad.” There’d been so many rumours about so many aspects of their conflict with Zakara he’d stopped trying to figure out what he was being called into the Principal’s Office for.

  “The transfiguration of Leonor is approaching.” From a lounge, Matt sat bolt upright.

  “When?!”

  “The date isn’t firm, but there’s talk of March or April. The best location we’ve been able to come up with is south of Monterrey.”

  “Mexico.”

  “Had to be. The Americans are doing too good a job of keeping the Transhumanists at bay.”

  “There’s something else.” Matt braced himself. “Have you been in contact with your family lately?”

  “Vaguely—I think Zakara has found a new way to block us. Why?”

  “It seems the change is beginning to manifest in the girl.”

  “Then they’ve exposed her to a gateway—earlier than I thought.”

  “That’s the problem; according to all my sources she has not been exposed. The change triggered itself spontaneously and it’s had dramatic effects on the child.”

  “First, that is not possible; second, what kind of changes? Physical?” Matt was desperate that Thin Man may have been given permission to play about with her genetically, but that seemed impossible. Zakara needed her physically and psychologically intact so she can open the gate.

  “What is or is not possible I cannot speak to—perhaps no one can, what with this being the first time in hundreds of thousands of years, or longer, that this has happened. As to the physical changes—none have been reported.” There was relief in that much, but why he couldn’t say, exactly.

  “But there’s no record of this happening is there? I mean today.”

  “No, there is not—that I am aware of, still I’ll begin asking about.”

  “You are certain of your people?”

  “Yes, as far as the information goes I’m convinced it is accurate. At least they are reporting on the info accurately. Still, I am attempting to get a few more sources.” Matt leaned back and sighed.

  “This has to have freaked Zakara out.”

  “That would be an understatement. He’s got the kid undergoing every test he can think of. Best theory for now is the birth occurred as China was transforming and this may have been passed on to the child in a latent form—which has now, for some reason, been activated. However, it’s just a theory for the time being, but it is the best one to date.”

  “Is she safe?”

&nb
sp; “As houses. But I need you to see if you can contact either of the women. We need some direct information to figure out what’s up. I’m,” and Jonah paused here, “going to have to inform the Archaics about this.” Matt looked up sharply and appeared to be about ready to launch himself at the Meta, but the danger passed and he slumped down in the chair, defeated. “If we keep this from them and they find out it could do a lot of damage.” Feargal nodded—he was right. “Can you contact them soon?”

  “I’ll try, but it’s thick with interference.” Tapping his forefinger on the desk a moment, Jonah said nothing.

  “You know,” the Meta said after some moments of thought, “you are getting a provocative reputation.”

  “That’s just the dragon and spider.”

  “No, your connection with the women—that’s serious Hoodoo.”

  “They’re just dreams.”

  “More than dreams, and I believe you’ve been keeping some of it to yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” Voice suspicious and nervous.

  “You have been known to talk in your sleep.”

  “I sleep alone—are you tapping my room?” The younger stood, abruptly.

  “Sit down.” Exasperation and weariness in the tone. “No, but that night at Austin Peay University you dreamt of China, didn’t you?” He reddened at the thought of anyone listening in on even one side of that exchange. “Don’t panic,” as Matt sat down again, “all I know is that you had sex with China and that it somehow changed you. It did, didn’t it?”