Toth

by James C. Glass

  There was something else going on, she decided, She saw it in the looks of the men when Jezrul was near, their deference to him, reporting to him as a leader, and drawing him aside for private words. These men, these military men, were loyal to Jezrul, now their First Counselor. How deep did that loyalty go? And just how deep was Jezrul’s loyalty to Toth?

  He showed her a bay where the Yellowfin collected, attracted there by an unexplained device designed by Toth himself. There was a submerged tunnel leading out to the sea, and then he took her to the center of the mountain below sea level and showed her a vast hydroponics farm, acres and acres of rock baths from which vegetables and flowers grew to monstrous size. Soft blue, red and yellow lights illuminated the area, and a dozen men worked there. Again, the men smiled when they saw Jezrul and his lady. They showed them examples of their produce, and beamed at Jezrul’s generous compliments. The soldiers, the workers, he has them all. Who is the real power here?

  He took her up three levels to a simple metal door deep inside the mountain where he paused dramatically to put an arm around her and speak close to her ear. “I have saved this for last. Prepare yourself for the first wonder Toth has bestowed upon us.”

  He opened the door, and she heard the roar of water falling. Her senses reeled from a deluge of fragrances as they pushed past a heavy polymer curtain and stood on a platform near the top of a mammoth room two hundred meters across and as many from floor to a ceiling, where racks of yellow lamps glowed fiercely through swirling mist.

  The first thing she saw was the waterfall opposite them. A raging torrent tumbled fifty meters into a circular, green pool lined with boulders on which two robed men sat reading. The floor of the room was a tropical forest: gnarled, moss-covered trees, ferns and colorful flowers everywhere. Stone trails wound crazily among the foliage, and below them was a second pool with a bridge on which another robed man stood staring into the water to watch colorful fish swimming. “Shall we go down?” asked Jezrul.

  Speechless, Kari only nodded her head. He took her hand and they descended four long flights of steep metal grating stairs past two other platforms. Something fluttered past her head, a butterfly with wings of yellow and red. As they descended there were more of them, a rainbow of colors, and then a bird flew past her, a tiny thing plumed in red. As they reached the floor the butterflies were everywhere, and birds were fluttering in the trees, chirping.

  They walked the pathways, Jezrul still holding her hand and when he spoke there seemed to be true reverence in his voice, even a sense of sadness; “This was the second stage of Toth’s plan, to turn our world into a garden of great beauty, but it was not to be. He grew old, and the work became slow, and then there was the transfiguration. All he was working on was moved here, and little by little it has become what you see. Someday, when the time is right, and all the people are again together under The Law, this will be Our Lord’s gift to them. I will see to it.”

  “I’ve never seen such beauty,” said Kari, “but some of the flowers seem familiar.”

  “Yes. We’ve been introducing new species slowly over the last centuries, and inland, far from the village there are now three forests similar to this one. The process has begun, but it is slow. Toth was a great scientist and teacher, and this is his legacy, but only for The Chosen who follow His Law. It is not for those who inhabit the corrupted worlds he fled from. It is not for your people.”

  “But I’m here,” she said, looking up at him.

  “You are one person, and Toth has made the exception, but only because you will become one of The Chosen. This is His word to me. Resign yourself to this, Kari; when your people are gone you will still be here—with me. It is Toth’s will. It is mine.”

  “I’m Toth’s reward to you for overthrowing Diego,” she said calmly.

  “Yes.”

  Her mind whirled, and she dared to ask the question: “And a reward for the men who follow you?”

  Jezrul’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “Will I be a sexual plaything to be shared with your men? Is that why I’m still alive?”

  “Certainly not!” he said.

  “You’d better make that clear to your men. They might have other ideas.”

  His eyes clouded over darkly. The seed had been planted, and she could only hope it would take root. “I will talk to them, and there will be no misunderstanding, but you are mine, and how you live here depends on your relations with me. Let there be no misunderstanding about that, either.”

  “I will accept that—for the moment,” she said, a hint of defiance in her voice that brought light to his eyes again. “The pool looks inviting. May I wade in it?”

  “Of course.” Jezrul smiled.

  She waded in the big pool, cooling her sore feet and pulling the robe up to her hips while Jezrul watched silently, appraising her legs. The two counselors sitting on nearby boulders had watched them furtively, but were now deeply engrossed in their reading. And when she was finished they walked the length of the forest path and returned to her room.

  Jezrul paused as he opened the door and she was squeezing past him in the doorway. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her fiercely. “More food and drink has been brought to your room. I will return this evening.”

  Her answer was a shrug of her shoulders against his hands, a shy roll of her eyes upwards towards his face. He stepped back quickly, eyes wild, and closed the door.

  Kari went to the bed and lay down on it, thinking, your battleground will be the sky and the sea. Mine will be right here on this bed.

  Late that evening, he came to her.

  She had bathed again, eaten, and drunk nearly two bottles of the wine. When he knocked three times she was lying on the bed, a fresh robe pulled up to her hips, a glass of wine in her hand. “Come in,” she said. He entered the room, staff in hand, and locked the door behind him. For a moment he looked at her silently, then came to the bed, sat down, and took the glass from her hand, his own hand shaking ever so slightly, but enough to create tiny wavelets in the liquid. “You’re not afraid?” he asked softly.

  “Should I be? What do you have in mind for me?” she whispered. The look on his face did frighten her, and her own heart was beating hard.

  “Not what you’re thinking,” he said. “Not until you’re baptized in Toth, but that will be soon, Kari, I promise you. Here, take this.” He handed her his staff, and lay down beside her. “Now, sit up.”

  She obeyed, confused. He guided her with his hands until she was straddling him and the end of the staff was positioned at the side of his neck. His hands moved over her body and up beneath the robe until she gasped. “You see the marks on the staff? Put your hands there and twist as if you were wringing out a wet cloth. You will hear a click.”

  She did so, heard a click and Jezrul’s fingers gripped her thighs hard. “Ahhh, that’s it,” he said, closing his eyes. His breathing was suddenly heavy, mouth open, and beneath her she felt him harden. “Again,” he gasped, “two more clicks.”

  She obeyed, heard a hum, and instantly Jezrul was writhing beneath her, his hands moving everywhere, squeezing, probing painfully, the cloth of his robe hard against her, chafing and burning, and she cried out softly as his eyes opened, rolling wildly. “Ah—ah—ah—” he gasped as he rocked her roughly with his hands until blood ran down his chin from a self-inflicted bite on his lip and the robe was wet between her legs. His skin became ashen, and he fumbled at the staff. “Off,” he said weakly. “Turn it off.”

  She did so, the hum ceasing as she sat there terrified, looking down at him. Breathing hard, he grasped her arms and pulled her down on him, burying his face against her throat, his cloth-shielded organ still hard against her. “Kari—Kari,” he murmured, “there is power in pain, a power only I can stand up to. Not even Toth can hurt me! You see? Not even Toth! And when you are baptized, Kari, that power will also be yours, the power of pain—and pleasure. We will share it, Kari. We will share it forever!�
�� He moaned and clutched her to him, and in a few moments was deep in sleep.

  Kari lay beside him, his arm tightly around her in a protective way, yet she wept silently, and shivered uncontrollably with terror and despair.

  She had fought the first skirmish on her battlefield, and already she knew that her war was lost.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The debate was heated, but Michael was optimistic from the start. Davos had gathered everyone at the amphitheatre and argued strongly against the unprovoked attack by the counselors and then Kari’s kidnapping. Nimri joined in and the people listened quietly as he described Jezrul’s long campaign against Diego, his desire for power and probable involvement in the death of Lebyn. It was clear Jezrul had long been despised for the frequent use of his staff against the people, and several of them gave accounts of his atrocities. Nimri’s zealous support of Toth swayed others, for his mission was to warn His Lord of Jezrul’s treachery and misdeeds among the people. But there were those who had lost sons in the fighting, mothers still on the edge of hysteria, and their tears won denouncements of their visitors from the stars, without whose presence the fighting would never have occurred. It was at that moment Michael chose to say something. He went to the podium, and the people were suddenly silent.

  “You’ve lost sons and we’ve lost comrades, two of them. They died horribly, their insides boiled by laser fire from some of your sons. They had families, loved ones, and they are grieved. They were not soldiers. One was a man of letters who came only to study your history, the other a biologist who marveled at the beauty you have here. They carried no weapons, but were shot in the back, and they are dead, as dead as those who killed them. This is not justice, it is a tragedy, a tragedy that should end right here, right now. The physical damage can be repaired, and our people will work with you until it is finished, but we cannot bring back your sons, and you cannot bring back our comrades. Let us bury our dead together—at sea, and then get on with what we must do. I ask for your help in reaching Toth. If Jezrul can blame us for what has happened here he can also blame you, and I want no further harm to come to this village. Please help us—and help yourselves. We need your decision now.”

  He left the podium, eyes downcast and Davos shouted after him; “Let my pledge to help Michael Queal be the first. Now, who else?”

  “I make my pledge also,” said Nimri, “in support of Our Lord. Who will go with me?”

  In minutes it was done, all but three families pledging support for the journey to Toth’s stronghold. The deciding factor had been Jezrul, not Toth. In private discussions after the meeting broke up, Michael finally heard the stories of hard discipline forced by Jezrul on the people. They wanted to bring him down. There was little mention of Toth, and Michael wondered how many shared Davos’ view that He was, in fact, long dead, and the counselors had become the true power on Tothwelt.

  Another revelation awaited him when they returned to camp to begin gathering their gear for war. Cletus Euell came up to him, and held out a mold-stained book. “One of the books we found in the obelisk, sir. The author’s name hit me right between the eyes. He was a plant geneticist, a bioengineer and devout atheist, from the sound of his writing. The book includes several tirades about controlled thinking by The Church.”

  Michael opened the book to the title page.

  The title was The Role of Bioengineering in Environmental Restoration.

  The author’s name was Edward Tothman.

  “My God,” said Michael. “And the copyright is 3287. This book is nearly three hundred years old!”

  “Yes, sir. I wish we had a list of the original colonists, but we don’t. And back in those days there were some major purges by The Church, until Victoria took charge of them.”

  Edward Tothman. Toth. A bioengineer that had fled with farmers and fishermen to found a new world. A paradise. It had to be. The exotic plants, the Charni, the biochip, the atheism of the people, it all fit. “It’s Toth,” he said, and Cletus nodded. “By now he’d have to be nearly three hundred years old. How?”

  “A bioengineer, sir. Who knows?”

  “Only Toth,” said Michael, and he hurried away to tell the others.

  * * * * * * *

  The boats were loaded in the darkness of early morning, globes of moss on the beach and the boats casting faint shadows as people moved to and fro between the skiffs. Michael sat and watched Osen load their rifles and other battle gear into a skiff. He sat alone, and thought about going into combat again, an old marine whose legs had nearly given out climbing a single slope only days before. He was done, finished as a marine, this he knew for certain. It was people like Krisha who would carry the action; her fresh-faced troops now had a taste of war. And then there was Osen: young, like a puppy at times, but on that one night a silent, efficient killer. You’re a real killer, private, he’d said. Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I am. Mootry’s orderly, a trained killer? There’re things about him that Mootry hasn’t told me. What are they?

  Gina came down to the beach, looked around, then started towards him, and he thought of the night before, sitting on a skiff to stare out at the sea, and the woman suddenly there beside him, sitting close, touching his hand, his arm going around her. They’d sat in silence for several minutes, and then Gina had put her head on his shoulder and said; “I’ve lost one man at sea. I don’t want to lose another.” And when he’d looked down at her in surprise she’d kissed him gently on the mouth, a kiss they held for an eternity, and then she’d jumped up and rushed away.

  He still felt that kiss.

  She sat down on the sand beside him. “The loading is nearly done,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. Gini, I want you to promise me something.”

  “What?” She leaned against him, looked out to sea.

  His arm went around her waist. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, or what we’ll find out there. I don’t know if help is coming from the ship or if we even have a ship, but until it’s over, one way or another, there’s a chance that Toth may send some people here to occupy the village and hold you as hostages. I’ve given orders to fall back to our camp if that happens. Promise me that you and your family will go with my marines if that time comes. What few men we’re leaving here will have plenty of firepower and I want you protected. I want you here when I get back.”

  “I want to be here,” she said, snuggling against him. “We have a date.”

  Michael smiled. “Yes, we have a date.”

  Osen and Davos had pushed the skiff into the water and waved to him. “That’s it, I have to go.” He stood up, took her hand to pull her up, and backed away a step. Gini threw herself into his arms, face against his chest. “You will come back,” she said. “You will come back.”

  He kissed her forehead, turned and walked to the skiff without looking back. That’s my intention, he thought.

  Only a few had come to the beach to see them off; goodbyes had been said in the privacy of homes. A new solidarity had been welded the afternoon before when three boats loaded with mourners had sailed south and west to a place ten kilometers from shore. There they had all bowed their heads while words were said over the shrouded bodies of twelve men who had died in battle. A servant of Toth, and a military Major had said the words, and when they were finished the weighted bodies had disappeared into the sea, two of them far from home.

  When he was on the boat Gini waved to him and he waved back, Davos was beside him. “You will break her heart,” said the fisherman.

  “When I leave?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what if I stay, Davos? This was supposed to be my last mission, with retirement at the finish of it. I can go to Brown’s planet and retire as an old man, or go to Arkon in deep sleep and wake up to a world that isn’t mine anymore. It would be easy for me to settle here for the rest of my life if—if it were allowed. Right now, I don’t see that happening.”

  Davos looked surprised. “It could be possible.”

&nb
sp; “Not with Toth or Jezrul here.”

  Davos patted his arm. “We do what we can, for now. The future will have to wait for us, but know this, Michael Queal, I do not oppose you’re settling here. I do not oppose it at all.” He squeezed Michael’s arm, and walked back to the tiller through the crowd of marines setting sail under Nimri’s directions. In a moment, they were underway.

  Seven boats sailed in v formation that early morning, an inverted phalanx with two marine-filled craft at the apex, the other five filled with village men who immediately set to work cutting up Yellowfin as a tasty distraction for the Charni. They sailed south until the water was deep, depth measured by stones on long ropes, for it was still dark and they could not see the color of the sea. They turned west, and ran for several hours in a strong breeze until the sun was well above the horizon, and then turned south again. The sea bottom was now visible, a sandy plane only meters beneath them, and in all this time they had not seen a single Charni. The big island was visible to the east, mountains looming clearly, and they were now further south than the barrier off shore from the village. Still no Charni, but they were ready, and Nimri was at the bow with his staff. Village men stood at other bows with captured staffs he had taught them how to use. Two laser rifles had been distributed to each of the Charni chumming boats of the outer phalanx, while the two inner boats bristled with laser weapons and assault rifles.