The Cosmic Logos

by Traci Harding

  ‘Cadwaladr?’ Rhun called for his great great grandson’s attention and Doc removed the VR unit from his head.

  ‘Ah, Rhun, I’ve been expecting you.’ Doc rose to greet his guests. ‘This must be the Dragon’s second son, Zabeel.’ Doc shook the Delphinus leader’s hand, after he’d shaken Rhun’s. ‘And this must be Bast.’ Doc looked at her and bowed his head graciously. ‘My sources are correct, you are very lovely.’

  ‘Well, just tell me who your sources are, and I’ll pay them more money?’ Bast always asked the most pertinent questions as subtly as possible.

  ‘The powers that be are very interested in your quest here and I have been advised to bring you up to date with a little problem we’ve been having here on earth … and on the moon for that matter,’ Doc admitted.

  ‘What kind of a problem?’ Rhun’s curiosity was struck. ‘Advised by whom?’

  ‘I told you, higher forces.’ Doc insisted on leaving it at that. ‘As for the problem, it is an uprising.’

  ‘In what country?’ Rhun needed specifics.

  ‘In all countries,’ Doc was sad to advise. ‘The cause of the anarchy is a satanic cult aimed at teenagers, that encourages them to blame their parents for their misfortunes and knock them off if so inclined. Since a cyber-metal band called ‘Bloodlust’ started the movement, teenagers have stopped committing suicide and have starting committing murder.’

  ‘Killing their parents?’ Rhun squeaked, horrified.

  Doc nodded. ‘Such instances have risen 200 per cent in five years.’

  ‘A cyber-metal band?’ Zabeel cocked an eye, looking rather worried by the images of large battalions of technological monsters that were brewing in his head.

  ‘Relax.’ Rhun slapped a hand down on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Cyber-metal is a form of music … right?’ He passed the ball back to Doc.

  ‘Murder-metal music performed by the artists in a VR space.’ Doc waved his hand at a blank wall that lit up to project a 2D image of the recording he’d taken off the VR network. ‘This is a sample of what you can expect if you hang out at the “Bloodlust” VR site.’

  The music sounded like a high-speed collision that just went on and on forever, and the images were of band members involved in every vile, bloodthirsty, perverted and debauched act imaginable. The lyrics went something to the effect of:

  My parents made me what I am.

  They fucked the world; they don’t give a damn.

  The ozone got punctured, now we live in a dome.

  I call my computer home.

  I got screwed, now do I lie?

  My parents deserve to die!

  Rhun covered Bast’s eyes. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before in one battle or another, but as tough as Bast was he felt the explicit images too much for her mental consumption. As Bast didn’t protest, Rhun figured she appreciated the gesture. Zabeel, who was ninety years old by human standards and had lived half his life with pirates, wasn’t looking too impressed either.

  ‘Your teenagers like this?’ Zabeel queried, wondering what kind of a planet Gaia was, as he’d never actually been here before.

  ‘It’s all just graphics in a VR space.’ Doc threw up his hands, frustrated. ‘Graphics are so realistic these days that you can create anything you can conceive of and make it appear true to life in VR space.’

  ‘Graphic is right,’ Zabeel emphasised.

  ‘Unfortunately, murder is only a crime when someone is actually killed; sexual exploitation is only considered thus if a human being is actually exploited. What you see here are just pixels on a screen.’ Doc pointed out the trouble they’d been having getting the site banned. ‘We’ve given it an R rating: censoring access to the site via the children’s VR Network, but all kids need is a password and they’re into the adult network. They’ve got lawyers from hell this band —’

  ‘Hey,’ Zabeel pointed to the screen, ‘the lead screecher of “Bloodlust” looks just like Avery … well, it looks like Avery had he never washed or had a haircut.’

  ‘Oh no,’ mumbled Rhun as he realised Zabeel was right; this could pose all sorts of problems. ‘Well, at least we’ve found Viper. Your higher powers have told you about him, I take it?’ Rhun’s attention shifted to Doc.

  ‘Just today,’ Doc confirmed, waving his hand at the wall, and the image changed to that of a satellite picture of a biodome city. Rhun let Bast know it was safe to look. ‘The Bloodlust cult has come to occupy a biodome city. Although, when a large and respected company, the Ingram Corporation, applied for the construction grant we had no idea that the city would go to the demons, as it were.’

  It was considered the height of fashion in the demon-dome to wear items of clothing that your murdered parents were wearing at the time you murdered them. It was also considered very chic to have any scars, that your parents might have inflicted on you, showing. Needless to say the Bloodlust dress sense was very tatty, stained and smelly. Hair was worn as long and matted as possible, and woven throughout was everything from weapons to condoms to drug-taking implements. Drug and alcohol abuse ran rampant, although the crime rate was exceedingly low. Anyone convicted of a crime against the state in the demon-dome itself was banished for life and having been a resident in the Bloodlust dome, in the next biodome city you’d be arrested out of hand. Thus people fled to the demon-dome to escape all manner of crimes and offences, not just those favoured by Bloodlust — any sinner was welcome.

  All Rhun could feel was sadness. It was devastating to see so much hatred and violence in people so young, for hardly any of Viper’s die-hard devotees appeared to be over twenty years of age. ‘So when did the Ingram Corp make the application?’

  ‘About sixty years ago,’ Doc recalled.

  ‘Sixty years ago!’ Rhun exclaimed.

  ‘Viper has fled back into time,’ Avery arrived on the scene to tell everyone what they’d just discovered themselves. Fallon was with him, as per Lahmu’s instruction.

  Doc nodded to the new arrivals. He knew the male was Gwyn ap Nudd’s apprentice; the Night Hunter himself had introduced them long ago. ‘It all came together this morning when your —’ Doc stumbled over his slip of the tongue. ‘That is … my sources informed me —’

  ‘You were going to say, your … something? Our what?’ Rhun became very suspicious suddenly, and like a hawk seeking prey he began scanning the empty space in the room. ‘Your father was perhaps what you meant to say?’ Rhun suggested a little louder than necessary, suspecting that his father was close at hand. He could sense his presence.

  ’Well, I do know how you hate me treading on your toes.’ Maelgwn manifested his subtle body in plain view of the gathering, although he kept his distance.

  All present gasped at the Dragon’s new celestial appearance.

  ‘Father, where is the rest of you?’ Rhun demanded to know.

  ‘In a safe place,’ Maelgwn assured. ’I am to have a subjective role in this event, so you can rest assured that I won’t be stepping on your toes from now on … not literally in any case.’ He made light of what must have been shocking news to his children.

  Rhun felt the way he had the day his father had departed this world and Rhun had been left with the daunting task of assuming the throne of Gwynedd. ‘But you never hinted at being dissatisfied with earthly life?’ He tried not to sound as bewildered as he felt.

  ‘It was precisely my complete and utter satisfaction with life that has brought your mother and myself to this resolution,’ Maelgwn pointed out, knowing the fact was obvious.

  ‘I never wanted you out of my life,’ Rhun protested, having not spent as much leisure time with his father and mother as he would have liked to.

  ‘Me either!’ Avery added his appeal.

  ‘That makes three of us,’ Zabeel objected also, not liking the idea of being parentless again.

  ‘That’s good,’ Maelgwn answered nonchalantly. ‘Because, until we shut down Bloodlust and stop Viper poisoning the minds of the young people of this planet
, I am going to be your muse.’

  ‘Huh?’ replied all of his sons in unison, a perplexed look upon their faces.

  ‘That means,’ Maelgwn clarified, ‘that when you hear my voice in your head telling you to do something, you do it … if you know what’s good for you.’ He threatened them in jest and managed to raise half-cocked smiles from all three boys. ‘You’ve proven quite good at it so far, I must admit, except for you, Rhun. You need to be more aware.’

  ‘So far?’ Rhun was on the defensive again. ‘What do you mean, so far?’

  Maelgwn’s free-floating apparition vanished and reappeared behind Avery whereupon he uttered, ‘Assume my form so that there is no confusion when you confront Viper.’ He disappeared again and then manifested behind Zabeel. ‘What is that horrible smell?’ Again Maelgwn vanished and finally materialised behind Rhun. ‘Don’t let Mahaud get a look at the Orme.’ Maelgwn smiled at their shocked expressions before relocating himself back where he started. ‘Déjà vu, anyone?’

  ‘I see,’ said Rhun, rather disgruntled that he’d not proven as perceptive as his younger brothers had. ‘I shall do better,’ he proffered, not wanting to be out of sorts with his father when he was so close to losing contact with him for good. ‘I am grateful for your efforts.’ Rhun looked back to Doc and apologised for the interruption. ‘You were saying that you made the connection between Bloodlust and Viper this morning, and …?’

  Doc explained that they thought Viper had fled back into time in order to establish all the contacts he had in the present day. He had the ownership and rule of one of the grandest and most technologically advanced biodome cities on the planet. ‘Viper seems to have as many connections in high places as I do,’ Doc announced, wishing that he was exaggerating. ‘And all who side with him are individuals that my people always have trouble dealing with.’

  ‘There is something I don’t understand,’ Rhun frowned, perplexed. ‘If Viper went back in time, then how come he didn’t create a breakaway dimension, as mother did when she went back to the Dark Age?’

  ‘With Mahaud to advise him,’ Doc speculated, ‘Viper might have carefully avoided changing the past whilst setting himself up for the present. He could have had his people kill, and assume the identities of, top politicians, businessmen and lawyers who were loners, and many in these professions end up alone due to their commitment to the job. If these impostors then stuck by the decisions, changes and events that shaped the life of their victim, causality might still be intact. Viper could have specifically planned events around not causing a breakaway dimension before he reached the year from which he originally stemmed, thereby ensuring that he had a firm support base here on Gaia before any of the Chosen Ones knew about it. Perhaps Bloodlust were a cult that did emerge at this time and Viper and his people have just assumed control?’

  ‘Viper could have a lot of kindred by now,’ Avery wagered. ‘They must have multiplied somewhat in seventy years.’

  ‘Seventy years!’ Rhun was even more shocked by this estimation. ‘That lands Viper’s people here on Gaia precisely at the time the Chosen Ones migrated to Kila.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Avery made it known that he’d already worked that one out.

  ‘How do you know what year Viper fled to?’ Rhun made the query sound like curiosity, but he did hate being upstaged.

  ‘I’ve just been speaking with Eli’s family,’ Avery advised.

  ‘Eli?’ Rhun quizzed, as the name was not familiar.

  ‘The large elestial crystal that powers the Aten’s time drive system.’ Avery filled him in. ‘Apparently, Viper threatened to detonate the Aten’s self-destruct mechanism if Eli didn’t take them where and when they wanted to go. Eli, having become rather attached to physical world existence, and being physically built into the Aten to allow the crystal to drag the space station from one time zone and dimension to another along with him, had no choice but to agree. Still, Eli telepathically conveyed Viper’s movements en route through time to his kindred deposit as he passed through etheric space, and thus I feel obliged to rescue the poor mineral. This information has only just come to hand due to the recent alert I issued to the dwellers of the Otherworld advising them that I was seeking information on the Aten.’

  Rhun stood staring at Avery as if he’d been speaking double-Dutch. ‘So you’ve been talking to rocks?’

  ‘Rock elementals, rather, that assume the form of rocks on the lower levels of awareness.’ Fallon was delighted to be able to explain and Avery nodded his head to agree with her definition. ‘They were really very lovely,’ she stated for the record, ‘once I got over the initial shock of their size.’

  Avery, feeling that summed up that topic, smiled broadly at Rhun and awaited his word.

  ‘You can pilfer the Aten once you lead our task force back to the last century. If anything happens to you before we make the trip back to the past, we’ll have a much harder time trying to stop Viper from this point in time.’ Rhun glanced sideways at his father to see if he agreed with the strategy and as he said nothing at all, Rhun assumed his reasoning was sound. ‘Before we collect the rest of the team, however, I suggest we pay Viper’s demon-dome a visit and see if we can learn anything that might help us shut him down once we get back to the past.’

  ‘Not a good idea,’ Maelgwn advised. ‘Viper’s people will be able to spot you the same way you shall be able to spot them … your aura will give you away. Dark Orme casts a shadow over its initiates that can be psychically perceived, and the Chosen’s light aura will just as easily be spotted by anyone of the Dark Lodge.’

  ‘You don’t need to move from where you are to familiarise yourselves with the demon-dome.’ Doc waved his hand at the screen.

  There were mobile cameras that flew all over the rogue demon city and you could access the visuals via the Bloodlust website on the internet, which was now a supernet that was lightning fast and powerful, thanks to a network that ran on a photon optic linking system.

  ‘I also have files on Viper’s conglomerate and his key political supporters,’ Doc added. ‘But the Dragon and myself believe that the key to stopping this disaster from unfolding lies with these two men.’ Doc pointed to the screen that displayed two still-frame images. ‘Hayden Ingram and his son, Rainer.

  ‘Hayden Ingram was the chairman of the conglomerate that made the original application for construction. His son, Rainer, inherited his father’s empire some forty years later. Rainer brought his associates out of the biodome project after his father’s death, allegedly from natural causes, but the finding was highly contested. Hayden had just announced his intention to sell his controlling interest in the biodome, when his perfectly good heart gave out on him. At age forty, Rainer then became one of the Bloodlust cult’s biggest and oldest supporters.’

  ‘That explains how the cult moved into the Ingram biodome,’ Rhun acknowledged. ‘But which era are we to target?’

  ‘We considered trying to prevent the construction of the Ingram dome,’ Doc advised, ‘but having looked over the application there was no reasonable objection to fight the construction. From a legal standpoint I couldn’t see us winning.’

  ‘So we prevent old man Ingram’s death.’ Zabeel jumped the gun, being telepathically sensitive, to conclude.

  Doc gave a firm nod. ‘Precisely.’

  12

  MATRIX OF MIRACLES

  At the end of two weeks off, the writer had her first five chapters and had made huge leeway with her research.

  It had been like a beautiful dream, waking early every morning, making a cup of tea and sitting straight down in front of the computer to be whisked away to the Dark Age. Tory, Maelgwn, Brockwell and all the other characters felt like old mates now and the writer delighted in each and every minute she spent in their company.

  You would think that this writer would be overflowing with joy and pride from her achievement, but she wasn’t. Tomorrow the beautiful dream was to end and the only time she’d get to visit her friends in ancient
Gwynedd would be on the odd weekend she got off and the nights when she wasn’t left completely brain-dead from her day in the mall.

  Her guides all feared that their charge was heading for a nervous breakdown. They observed as the writer sobbed uncontrollably into her husband’s sweater; the man was doing his best to understand.

  ‘Look, I don’t think we can do without your wage altogether, so you can’t quit your job yet,’ her husband reasoned and the writer whined, disturbed by the fact. ‘But perhaps you could look around for a casual or part-time job … whatever you earn will suffice.’

  ‘That’s it!’ Tory and Astarleia resolved at once.

  ‘You think?’ The writer considered this a fair compromise and, although she couldn’t dedicate all her time to writing her tale, she could at least dedicate more of her time to it. ‘I’ll start job hunting.’ She resolved with a sniffle to be more cheery and gave her lover a huge hug for his continued support of her writing career, even though it had never earned them a cent.

  ‘I’ll submit our request to the matrix and see what I can arrange,’ Astarleia advised the other guides.

  ‘The matrix?’ Tory queried.

  ‘Yes. You might know it better as the etheric web — that’s how we Oversouls keep in touch and arrange meetings, contacts, chance encounters and so forth for our charges,’ Astarleia enlightened. ‘Thus, miracles can happen if the will of one’s charge is sufficient to dispose another interested Oversoul and its charge to step in and help. At other times fate steps in to meet our requests and something beneficial will happen by chance rather than arrangement. We’ll just have to wait and see what eventuates.’

  The next day when the writer trudged into work, she managed to look pleased to be there, safe in the knowledge that it would not be for long.

  Since she’d started writing about Tory Alexander, the character seemed to have integrated herself into the writer’s own personality. An inner strength and knowing now drove her and she found herself daring to trust in the universe once again. She would create the reality she wanted for herself if she did not fear or doubt her own power to do so. She had decided not to hand in her resignation at work until she found a new job, but she would get the paper early Wednesday morning and start hunting.