There was no choice to be made except that which he desired. If there was anything to recount from the fall, all of it was lost on Stanwick. Nothing but pain. A few seconds of falling, then something cracked, but she would be too disoriented to tell what part of her body. More falling, then some jagged edifice would rip open the skin of her hip. She would tumble on rocks, and instinctively catch a finger hold, only to hang for a minute before falling yet again.
When she hit the ground, she was conscious, but barely; enough to imagine that the final hundred feet of the drop had managed to pulverize and crush the last couple of bones. Beyond that, her grip on reality managed to find a whole new cave system to fall into all on its own. The darkness took on a different hue, moved without any obvious cause. She could see no light, but she could see that her nightmare had edges. It had substance.
His words scratched in the flesh of arterial walls, only in the language of the delvers. Nerves firing, neurons chittering too fast for her to comprehend, Dannum spoke to the drivers, the engineers. The vehicle was damaged goods. They knew it. She had neglected herself, neglected them. So they obeyed him, burrowing through her, shredding her, then knitting the surface of her flesh to his immense form.
As he moved through the network of caves, his body fed her, his little parasite, ever hungry, selling her memories for a meal. Such a warm meal though, his blood boiling. In time, when she was whole again, he would allow her to see, but it would be many years till she would be whole again. So much for him to see, through her. So many lives lived.
He moved mountains, drinking in the air of the new world, led by her memories, for the light of Dannum shone bright on all that was seen, and shone black on all that was unseen, and within and without his light, time knew not its bounds, or so it was written. He had been a different God then; Jealous and pernicious, but he was such because his people were a proud and learned people. Beyond Allim, he had become so much more than Dannum. In humbler minds, he had learned humility. In minds deeply routed in the spirit, manna or soul, he had learned compassion.
Onward, to amber waves of grain. What new lessons could be gleaned from this new born nation?
He had seen the place, in her memories, in the minds of the delvers, … he knew it well once he arrived, because he had always known, since his first dream. And he dug down. Waiting. Waiting for the child.
ONE
THE ELEVENTH HOUR
“She’s sleeping?” David cooed softly, unable to tell if Stephanie’s blanket was moving. Stanwick walked over to the bed, resting a hand on the child’s forehead. She opened her own mind up to Stephanie, just for a moment. She wished that she hadn’t.
“Yes, she’s sleeping.” Stanwick’s smile flickered, “We should leave her be. I’ll set sentry alarms. I really need to show the rest of you around the house.”
David waited by the open bedroom door. Watching Stanwick stroke his daughter’s head, kiss her goodnight, he felt safe.
Stanwick led David back downstairs to the living room, “Come on, all of you. Time for the grand tour.”
West rubbed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he grimaced in the blue-white light. Behind the clear wall, as far back as he could see, small shoots unfurled their little leafy hands, heads of broccoli and cabbage peaked unassumingly over the edges of gel filled containers and all manner of greens and grains blanketed shelves which were stacked several stories high with new growth, basking in the life-giving glow of their own dedicated lamps.
“You going off grid?” Cobb pondered, shielding his face from the special lamps.
“Not me.” Stanwick replied, still marching on, leading the others into the depths of her home.
The farming complex was a permanently unfinished work of art. When it was first built, she had taken regular deliveries from farmers far and wide, paying over the odds for wagon loads of feed, cattle, grain, whatever they could send. She had worked the many acres of land above ground, but it was never enough. She bought out farm holdings, kept on the laborers, made sure they were well compensated. In recent years, she’d managed to implement a high level of automation, always fine tuning the process. A few years ago, she had invested in a number of emerging technologies, and with the development of those new tech sectors, the Stupins Institute had suddenly flourished from glorified storage facility, to state of the art repository of horticultural diversity.
“You do farmers markets?” Cobb tried again, tapping the glass. He saw Stanwick’s face reflected there, her expression bordering on murderous.
Charlene leaned over the edge of the gantry, her stomach lurching when she realized how far down the complex extended, “Joking aside, you got enough down here to feed the five thousand, and then some.”
Stanwick shuddered at the thought.
“You should install an elevator.” David suggested, in what he felt sure was a helpful tone. He watched as mechanical arms busied themselves, pruning, planting and harvesting. Surely an elevator wouldn’t have been beyond Stanwick’s ability.
“We could just jump down though, right?” Cobb asked, “I mean, is that not what this is about? We’re like indestructible now aren’t we?”
“The fall wouldn’t kill you necessarily,” Stanwick replied, her tone flat, “but without sustenance … if you were weak enough and immobilized, you could die.”
Cobb sighed, then an instinct took him and he acted upon it. Mounting the thin handrail, he started to jog along the precarious beam, light footed, hands in his pockets. The downward spiral of the walkway, the smooth metal of the railing and the dim lighting all conspired against him, but Cobb felt completely surefooted. He picked up his pace, jumping a few feet through the air between strides, tapping the gantry above him with outstretched arms. He ran a few more paces, then rolled forward, tucking his head towards his chest, lifting up on his hands and walking hand over hand.
“Come on David,” Cobb yelled, his voice echoing through the chamber, “Show me what you’re made of.”
David leaned over the handrail and thought better of it, but then he felt a hand at the small of his back and Charlene whispered in his ear, “I bet we can give him a run for his money.”
The two of them climbed up onto the metal bar slowly, cautiously and as Stanwick and West watched, they took their first timid steps. David shuffled his feet, easing the ball of one foot forward, dragging the heel of his trailing foot, his arms out to the sides, his heart pounding in his throat. He watched Charlene, his eyes on her torso, her careful but steady motions. She seemed calm, and David took comfort from her stillness, centering himself on her motions. Following Charlene’s lead, he took one large step, then another, then Charlene turned about and David panicked, his hip swaying out away from the walkway. Charlene was there for him, closing the gap between them with a graceful leap, grabbing hold of his hands tightly. Punctuated by Cobb’s occasional whoops and hollers, Charlene started to hum, then sing gently, broadening her steps, pulling David slowly out of his comfort zone.
Stanwick started walking again, “I do despair.”
West walked by her side, watching David’s left foot crossing smoothly behind his right, “What’s up?”
Stanwick pointed at Charlene, “Between you and me, we’ve sired a couple of half-baked losers.”
Charlene back-stepped rhythmically, holding David’s fingers loosely as her hips swayed, “Hey I heard that.”
“Yeah, you were meant to. Loser.”
“What’s your problem?” West asked, confused.
“She’s trying to pull a Johnny Castle.”
“A what?”
“Dirty Dancing … Johnny Castle … Do you not hear her singing?”
West laughed raucously, amused by how offended Stanwick appeared to be.
Cobb’s footsteps clattered on the metal as he ran back up towards them, “It’s like a labyrinth down there. How long did it take you to dig this place out?”
“I want to say a day, but honestly, I was kind of out of it. It’s a long story
.”
West leaned over the railing, “There’s still a way to go.” He sensed her hesitancy, “You want to give us the short version?”
She began, “Chile, eighteen ninety four…”
Quarter of an hour later, Stanwick stood in front of a huge metal wall.
“He’s in there?” West’s face was expressionless, which Stanwick read as carefully contained fury. She nodded, holding her hand out towards the glass panel in the center of the door.
Charlene cleared her throat, “Just to be clear now, it’s not going to attack us right?”
Stanwick nodded again, “He’s not on lock down, but we are safe. He’s quite singular in his desire.”
Cobb stepped back slowly, “How big are we talking here?”
“If he’s anything like the thing we saw on the hopper, I have no comparable frame of reference,” David offered, “but shit is about to get real.”
Cobb shrugged, “Like Kaiju big? Godzilla?”
West nodded, “Something like that.”
Cobb tried to grasp the idea of being able to eat as much as he wanted, his excitement growing, “So how does something even get to be that big?”
Charlene pointed back down the hallway they had just passed through, “You noticed the food right?”
Cobb pressed his point, convinced he had one, “Yes, I saw the food, but I eat all the Cobb salad in the world, I’m not going to grow up to be a big strong boy, I’m going to explode.”
“Mmm,” West chimed in, “Nope, you would take on whatever form you decided to take.”
Cobb looked dubious, “So I could eat a couple of tons of lettuce and take the form of a fennec fox?”
Stanwick’s hand dropped to her side, “You’re being obtuse.”
“No, I’m just trying to understand.”
West thought about his question, “You couldn’t do it in a day…”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Stanwick interrupted, “It’s quite possible for a host to command the leeches to consume them almost wholly. They work fast.”
West waved his hands, trying to wipe away Stanwick’s comment, “Now who’s being obtuse? That’s not normal.”
Stanwick laughed, her frustration clearly mounting, “It’s possible though. He’s trying to understand, and I would say that eating a couple of tons of lettuce and become a fennec fox is preposterous, but not impossible. The more pertinent question would be whether or not you’d want to?”
Cobb frowned, “Why wouldn’t I want to? Fennec foxes are awesome.”
Stanwick tapped her head, “Cognitive scaling. It’s a headache.”
West nodded in agreement, “The loss of neurons and glial cells is a delicate matter, so any rearrangement of your brain structure is dicey. Handle with care.”
Stanwick looked to Charlene and David, “Any more questions, or are we ready to do this?” Without waiting for an answer, she slammed her hand onto the glass plate in the center of the wall.
The metal wall slid into the floor swiftly, silent except for a satisfying thud once it’s upper edge became flush with the floor. Stanwick led the way, tiny lights in the floor illuminating no more than a perimeter extending a couple of feet all around her.
David nudged Charlene, “How are we going to see anything?”
Stanwick answered, “There’s nothing to see. It’s better this way, believe me.”
Charlene kept her eye on West’s legs, following closely. She thought it was odd that it had come to this, that she should be following him into the darkness, when really she knew so little about him. They hadn’t spent much time alone, so there had been no real opportunity, not with everything that had been going on. A lifetime yes, of course; he could have dropped in on her life at any point, but he must have had things to do. His trick had been a cruel one though really. Turning up and robbing her of her opportunity for death, when she had been so close. She’d had enough time. She had lived her life without him, and she had been ready for it to end, merely counting off the passing days. She knew what lay ahead of them, out of sight, stalking them. She should run, into his embrace, let Dannum consume her. Then Dannum’s laughter hissed in her ear.
Charlene looked at the others, but none of them seemed to have heard anything. “Hated of Pretchis, child of the void …” And she felt like a little girl, running through an empty house trying to hit all of the light switches to avert a tragedy, except the dread was worse now, because there were no light switches. “You can run, but I am everywhere, and I am all.”
She reached forward for West’s shoulder, attempting to rouse his attention, but West was always a step away, always just out of reach. Dannum continued, his voice the sound of mirrors breaking and cracks in the pavement, all full of empty promises of heartache and despair, “The Thane of the Void; that’s who you reach for? See him now, ever a step too far. Time will bring no succor. The Thane will always be beyond your grasp.”
With her stomach knotted, Charlene ran forward, fingernails scratching busily at her arms, the leeches raising to the surface. She wanted somehow to reach inside herself and remove him - to drag Dannum’s words out of her body and eradicate every trace.
David had felt the warm gentle kiss on his cheek the moment the lights had illuminated his first footstep. The lights had dimmed, and he had yelled out in fear, or at least he had tried to, his tongue stopped by the kiss. The voice was soft, almost loving, but the words were calculating and destructive, “David, a name that speaks of regal greatness. In others.” The arms around him, holding him close, fingers tight in his hair, the mouth at his ear, “How then does it come to be spoken of the Blood-Bastard who sold his daughter’s future for his own safety? David Beach, the son of a thief. Damned his beloved Stephanie to this life outside of life. Ignoble beginnings for the father of she who’s reign will be anointed in the blood of the new Mythologue.”
David moved his head until he felt his chin touching his chest, then he stamped his feet, watching for the small array of lights.
Cobb heard the voice. “Last Chosen of the Second Kingdom.” The words dry and coarse, seething with disdain.
“Nope.” Cobb managed to yell the word. “Shut the fuck up. La, la, la…” he didn’t stop. Even with his mouth wrapped with the black tongue of Dannum, Cobb thrashed his head, humming as loudly as he could manage. The words rambled on, but Cobb imagined a world full of food, waiting for him to dive in and glut his ravenous appetite. He’d pace himself though - because cognitive scaling, whatever the crap Stanwick had warned him about, and he’d become a colossus, stomping on cars and picking his teeth with trees.
“You hunger for power…” the voice tried again, saccharine sweet with promise.
Cobb couldn’t answer, he mumbled and hummed, then speech failing, he imagined the words spelled out on a giant neon sign, written in garish blue neon, “Buffet King.”
Then out of the blackness, Stanwick’s hand in his. Her laughter filling the air about him, “You’re coping better than David.” She pointed to David who was walking along beside Cobb, stamping his feet as if he was trying to put out a fire, the little pools of light flashing everywhere he stepped.
When Charlene finally felt Dannum loosen his hold on her consciousness, the five of them were stood in a line, their pools of light merged into one. Stanwick tapped the floor in front of her with the ball of her foot, and the five were lowered on the section of floor on which they stood, the light from the room below illuminating a brief glimpse of teeth. Too many teeth.
West watched the platform raise back towards the ceiling, thick hydraulic arms wheezing softly, “Why are we here?”
The room Stanwick had led them to was large, but contained no immediately apparent furniture or fixtures, save for a windowless metal door. The walls, ceiling and floors all shimmered with the light of glardium rills, but this bio luminescence was the only illumination.
Stanwick stepped towards the metal door, then turned to face the others, “David, when we checked in on Stephani
e, I… I saw a glimpse of what she was dreaming.”
“How?” David asked, a little confused. He had been right there, and he could remember no real exchange between the two of them except for Stanwick stroking Stephanie’s forehead.
“It doesn’t matter how,” Stanwick continued, “What matters is what I saw. What she allowed me to see.”
West’s eyes were wide. He took a step towards Stanwick, lowering his head. The question hadn’t formed on his lips when Stanwick answered.
“Yes. She’s dreaming. All I saw was a flash, but whatever is going on in Stephanie’s brain, it is…” Her lip quivered, and she drew in a quick breath, steadying herself. “What I saw, it was so brief, but it was clear was that you were all through there.” Stanwick pointed to the door, “It’s a barracks of sorts; arms, armor, ammo.”
West pointed towards the ceiling, “Hell of a guard dog.”
Stanwick laughed, her tension easing significantly, “This is certainly the safest place to be.”
David waited for her to add some sort of addendum to her statement, but when none came, he was unable to contain himself, “Then why the hell is my daughter a mile above us in a fucking bedroom?”
Stanwick pouted apologetically, “Because she wasn’t here.”
Histories of the Void Garden, Book 1: Pyre of Dreams Page 37