by Ty Beltramo
“It’s one of the few things I drink, actually. But I’ve never had it here.”
“Ah,” she said, pleased. “Then you’ll enjoy ours. It is among the best in the world.”
She ordered five, which came in the smallest cups I’d ever seen. I was dismayed, since it was very likely that I’d need to drink about eight of these to satisfy my need for caffeine. But it did taste wonderful. I could cope.
Melia turned to Els. “Aello . . . Els, we were worried about you. We heard about Elson’s conflict with Melanthios and feared the worst.”
Good news traveled fast.
“And what did you hear about the conflict?” I asked, curious about how it was playing in the Engineer press.
It was Gustav who answered. “We heard that you fought with Melanthios and prevailed. That you removed his glamour upon you and demanded Aello’s safe release. And we heard that you escaped from the Abyss, having been sent there by Aeson. Is this the truth?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that I prevailed against Melanthios. I simply caught him by surprise and whacked his pin head a little,” I said, motioning for another cup of coffee. It was the good stuff.
“It’s all true, Gustav.” Els said. “And what’s more, he rescued me from the Abyss.”
She recounted a heavily edited version of recent events. The three artsy Engineers seemed impressed, to say the least. Too bad most of what happened was either improv or accident. When Els finished her tale, we sat in silence as they digested what they’d heard.
“Els. I’m sorry you suffered so. Senior forces of Law collaborating with people such as Aeson is quite troubling. Harming one of our own is shameful,” Melia said. “I wonder what would cause such an alliance.”
“Common sense,” I said.
“Excuse me?” Gustav said.
“I said, ‘common sense’.”
“Yes, I heard you, but I don’t understand.”
Els jumped in. “Gustav, talking to Elson is like drinking cold, stale coffee. There’s little to be said for it.”
It didn’t seem to satisfy him. He became a bit edgy.
“We are at war, Elson. The forces of Chaos are a blight upon this world. You know that. How can you say it is common sense for Law to cavort with such wickedness?”
“First of all, Gustav, don’t tell me what I know. Last I checked you hadn’t been inside my head. The place is full, I’d have known if you were in there. Second, I thought you Law types wanted progress through collaboration. But I guess that’s just more propaganda. And third, the problem with this whole deal isn’t Law and Chaos working together, it’s Aeson. He is a very bad egg, Gustav, and not because he works within the realm of Chaos. He’s bad because he’s crossing the line. Nothing is off limits for him. If you’d read the memo, you’d know that.”
“Memo?” Gustav looked around, confused.
“Never mind, Gustav,” Melia said. Then to me, “And why are you ‘in it,’ Elson?”
Now that was a legitimate question, so I calmed down a bit and stowed the sarcasm. It was a straight question and I could give a straight answer.
“Because I’ve been given a job to do, Melia, and I’m doing the best I can. But since I don’t fit into the traditional machines, I have to feel my way--make it up as I go along.”
“Then what is this job you’ve been given?” She asked.
“No idea,” I lied. Things were getting clearer for me. But I still had questions that needed answering. Now was not the time for speculation, given the company.
“You have no idea what your purpose is? What is your Discipline?” Rolf spoke for the first time. He exuded a bit of pity mixed with a smidgen of disgust.
“Don’t have one. I’m what you call a free radical. I go about screwing with everyone, because it seems like the right thing to do.” Everyone but Els looked at me as if I had developed an advanced case of leprosy. “Hey, it’s all I’ve got.”
“Melia,” Gustav said, “we can’t work with him. I think he may be insane.”
“I’m working with him,” Els said. “He’s certainly not lawful, and, at times, he seems very chaotic. But his actions do make a certain kind of crazy sense. He’s saved me from the Abyss, defeated ancient demons that tried to consume me, resisted Aeson and Melanthios, and Diomedes has entrusted a great responsibility to him. And I’m certain that his unusual abilities will be the key to a meaningful resolution to this situation.”
Melia studied me for a moment. “Elson, will you swear allegiance to the Lords of Law?”
“Hell no.” I said without hesitation, but resisted the urge to jump up onto the table and urinate in her coffee. This wasn’t Cleveland, after all. I didn’t think they did that here.
“You oppose Law, then?” She asked.
“Law isn’t the answer, sister. But it’s not the problem, either. I’m pretty sure of that,” I said. “Listen, Melia and company. I didn’t come here looking for partners. I came because Aeson is about to do something very, very bad. So bad, we need to inform a lawful Preceptor so he can call in the troops and save the day. Can you help us or not?”
“You don’t know who I am, do you, Elson?” Melia asked.
Sigh. Here we go again. “Sure I do. You’re the cute artsy-fartsy chick I saw at Aeson’s Gathering. What else is there to know?”
She actually smiled at that. I expected more of the usual ‘you’re an offensive jerk, Elson’ routine.
Instead, she said, “I am the Leader of the Discipline of Art, and France is my domain.”
Ah. So that explained why she wasn’t schmoozing it up with Melanthios. The tension between France and North America was largely an extension of the tension between the leader of this domain and Melanthios. After meeting Melia, it was easy to see why the tension existed. Melanthios was a rigid militaristic authoritarian. Melia appeared to be more the organic leadership type.
“Well, my apologies then,” I said. “Any antagonist of Melanthios is an antagonist of mine . . . wait, that didn’t come out right.”
She laughed. It was a musical sound. “I know what you mean, Elson. So, while you need no partners, how can we help you unravel this most unholy alliance between Melanthios and Aeson?”
“We need to see your Preceptor. Tell him what’s going on. Ask for help. Can you get us an audience?”
Melia thought it over for a moment, then said, “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”
Of course not. When was it ever that easy? “Why not?” I asked.
“Because the Preceptors are never separated from one another. Anything you tell one will be heard by all.”
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“The Designers made it clear that we should be working together. Even Chaos does not deny it openly. So the Preceptors have vowed eons ago never to work alone. They don’t leave one another’s presence. A meeting with one is a meeting with all.”
“Hold it,” I said, “Aeson’s clearly getting Preceptor approval at least, unless he’s completely lost his mind, and he’s probably getting assistance, too. That means the Preceptors already know about this whole thing.”
“Not necessarily,” Melia said. “They have found ways to subvert one another. History is full of such events, despite the apparent cooperation. I don’t know how, but it happens. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to leverage that fact to our advantage.”
“We don’t need to,” Els said. “All we have to do is make Aeson’s plan public knowledge among the Preceptors. None of them can openly support it. It’ll work either way.”
“So, Melia, can you get us a trip to the big show?” I asked.
She looked distant, like she hadn’t heard a word I’d said. I could sense she was communicating with someone. I could almost hear the words. No one else appeared to notice. I stole a glimpse into the ethereal plane to make sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. No one there. But I could sense something stretching from Melia out into the darkness. It was probably something similar to a glam
our.
In seconds, she snapped out of it. “No need, Elson. You’ve been summoned to the mountain, alone,” she said.
“By whom?” Els asked.
“The Preceptors have commanded that Elson appear in their presence. This is rare. But good news, no?”
“No,” I said.
“Why? I thought that’s what we wanted, at least a minute ago,” Els said.
“Because a minute ago it was our idea. Now it’s someone else’s. That’s bad mojo,” I said.
“I don’t see why,” Gustav said. “It is an honor to be summoned. Few get such a call. Why is it a problem?”
“Because, Gustav, in all the time I’ve been around, no one has ever summoned me just to say thanks. It’s clearly some kind of trap. If I go, I’ll be stepping into it like never before.”
“So you’re not going?” Els accused.
“Are you kidding? Of course I am. I’ve wanted to give these bozos a piece of my mind for a thousand years. Now is my big chance.”
“Elson, don’t,” Els said.
I stood up. “This is it, sister. Destiny calls. Or some fat guy on a throne in an ivory tower, anyway. Who am I to refuse such a call?”
What does one wear to meet with the most powerful beings known? I straightened my tee-shirt and looked it over. Yosemite Sam had acquired a coffee stain on his coat.
It was perfect.
Melia and I were left alone at the café while Els and the others left to figure out how best to get the word out concerning Aeson’s plan.
“So how do I get there?” I asked.
“I’ll take you,” Melia answered.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be associated with me, Melia. You seem nice enough--for a lawyer, anyway. No reason for you to get me all over you.”
She ordered another cup of coffee. She was clearly tense. What made the master of France nervous?
“I’m not a lawyer, Elson. I’m an artist. And a leader.” She dropped a rough chunk of brownish sugar into her coffee and stirred it around. “If you’re right, things are going to get ugly. I don’t like ugly, and I don’t believe in the no-pain-no-gain mantra of Chaos. But that’s not what really worries me.”
“Oh? And what worries you, Melia?”
“You do.”
Like I didn’t see that coming. “Yeah. I worry me too. So what?”
“As an artist, I see things differently than most. Things don’t have to be neat to make sense to me. I can perceive and appreciate beauty that might appear to be without structure. Form doesn’t always mean symmetry, and sometimes the function that it follows is in itself strange and beautiful. People such as Melanthios can only see symmetrical, utilitarian forms. They assume the functions those forms follow must be the same way: linear and sterile. It is not so.”
“There’s nothing linear and sterile about me,” I said. “There’s barely anything sanitary about me.”
“Indeed. I sense that your form follows your function. It is your function that worries me. What could it be?”
“I’ve been wondering that for some time, myself. Believe me, Melia, if I knew, I’d tell you. Right now, I’m all about stopping Aeson. There’s no reason for me to keep it hidden from you.”
She studied me. “I believe you. So, what do you know?”
I told her about my awakening, leaving out the cave and its contents. There was something comforting about her. Something non-threatening. Perhaps my long exposure to Melanthios made her cuddly by comparison.
“And what were your instructions, those two words that you speak of?”
I told her.
“That is all?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Ah. I understand your confusion. The answer lies in the identity of your creator.”
“It would seem,” I said.
“Then I will help you. Misguided or not, I believe you are trying to be faithful to that one. And that one must be a great one, to create such an Engineer, or any Engineer for that matter.”
I didn’t say anything. Her quiet confidence honored and shamed me at the same time.
She finished her coffee. I let mine lie.
“It is time. I’ll take you as far as the foot of the mountain. From there, you’ll have to enter alone.”
“Sounds peachy,” I said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When Melia said we were going to the mountain I thought it was a metaphor. As it turns out the Preceptors actually do hang out on a mountain—Mount Megiddo in the Middle East, to be precise. I suppose it made sense. The area had been referred to as the Navel of the World for centuries. It was generally equidistant from all the major civilizations in the east and the west. But I was disappointed. I had expected an office building with a big board room.
I looked at Melia. She shrugged.
At the foot of the mountain, there was a path. It was dirt, perhaps four feet wide. Shrubs and wild olive trees threatened to overgrow and obscure the trail, as it zigzagged up the steep climb. The hiss of wind that blew hot dust in my face was the only sound in the barren place. I looked up the path, but lost sight of it as it wound its way through crag and crevice, under branch and bush. My eyes were led to the top of the mountain. Its peak was shrouded in dark clouds. There was rain, but none of it was making it down to the base. Great. Not that I needed any further foreshadowing of what awaited me at the top. All that was missing was a swirling vortex spouting lighting.
“The Preceptors await you at the top,” Melia said. “We part here. Farewell, Elson.”
“That’s it? I just go up? I don’t have to answer three questions to get in or anything?”
She smiled. “Not to get in. But you may have to answer some difficult questions to leave.”
“That’s just fine,” I said. “Okay. I guess I’ll be on my way. See you soon.” I started up the path.
“Elson.”
I stopped and turned.
“It is important that you gain the support of the Preceptors in dealing with Aeson.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m going up there.”
“Is it? Are you sure there are no other reasons?”
The wind picked up at the base of the mountain. The place smelled like ash. I couldn’t see any source that would make it smell that way, but it did. The mountain reminded me of a forest after a fire. Soot. But no such blackness was evident to the eye.
“I need to get a look at them, Melia. I need to see their faces and know for certain whether they really care.”
“You’re going to judge them,” she said.
I shrugged. “They need to help. If they don’t, their actions will judge them. I won’t need to. But I’ll give them a kick in the balls, just for good measure.”
“They’ve been running things for eons, Elson. I fear such a purpose is foolishness. You have to put aside your grievances and gain their support. It is the only way.”
“Melia, I’m going to reveal Aeson’s plan. If that doesn’t convince them, nothing I could say would. I understand what you’re saying. None of it makes a difference, that’s all. So don’t sweat it. I won’t.”
It was true. I was walking into a situation I couldn’t control any more than I could control myself, so why try?
She shook her head. “I wish you well, and good-bye.” I guess she didn’t think I’d be coming back.
Melia left me there with only the wind to keep me company. I turned toward the path and stopped. The little voice in my head, the one that usually rejoiced at such moments, was urging caution. It didn’t do that often, which made me consider my options. But the more I thought it over, the more I realized that I had none. If Aeson were able to free those demons it would be a mess that the world hasn’t seen since the last time they were free. Images from my cave, of the battle between the Patron and the Host of Heaven, came to mind. Every detail was etched there. Something about it nagged at me. Something was amiss but I couldn’t see what. Well, keeping the Preceptors waiting probably wouldn’t help my case.
The path was ill kept. Thorny bushes encroached at every turn, obscuring the terrain and making it impossible to know how far it was to the top. Rocks the size of softballs tumbled down the path as I kicked them loose. The wind in the branches drowned out the sound of my steps crunching along the path.
Only thorns and thistles grew in this place. Not a single flowering or fruit-bearing plant was in sight. There were no animals or insects.
Even the bushes were twisted and gnarled. You’d think that the most powerful beings on the planet could afford a groundskeeper.
The dirt was dry. My feet quickly became covered with a gritty dust. As the grade steepened, I had to lean forward more and more. Soon I was forced to crawl on my hands and knees up the dirty, hard path. Eventually I ascended into the clouds and the dirt turned to mud. Visibility was further hampered by mist and rain mixed with swirling dust.
This place sucked.
The path opened into a clearing right below the peak. I strained to look up from my hands and knees and saw huge feet. In front of me stood two statues of men with noble bearing. One held a sword with the point between his feet. The other held a scepter across his chest. Their heads were hidden by the mist. The red rock of the peak had been carved to form a great arch, which these two guarded from either side. Within the arch was a monstrous door, perhaps one hundred feet tall. It was slightly ajar. The wind had piled a formidable mound of dirt against the door, indicating that it had not moved—either to open further or close--for a long time. The ground was hardened and flat near the small opening.
Before I could get to my feet, a figure slipped between the doors and approached me with a smile. It was Aeson.
Man, did I hate this guy.
“Hello, Elson. It is so good to see you. Come to see the Preceptors have you?”
“So it would seem.” I said as I got to my feet. There’d be no groveling at this boob’s feet.
“Ah, very good. They are waiting. Apparently, they desire the company of us both. A splendid day for it too, don’t you think?”