by Boyd Brent
“Around the corner to your left.” David made his way down the slope to the ground.
The oxen had either been led or by their own design had found an area of shrubbery upon which they fed. David slung several of the skins over a shoulder and made his way back. “I would also advise taking a length of rope, David. Mark or the hermit might assist in delivering supplies.”
“They might at that.”
David exited Ahaz's cave with ropes and water skins slung over his shoulders. He turned towards the rock face and looked up. “In a moment your fingers will feel as though they are made from iron,” said Gull. “The feeling will be a deceptive one. They must be used predominantly for gripping. Only drive them into the softer areas. And only then to prevent a fall.”
David placed a hand on the rock. “The climb up to the hermit's cave looks pretty straightforward at least.”
“I will provide moderate assistance for this initial part.”
“Alright.” David drew a deep breath and started to climb. Ten metres up, he moved to his left and climbed down outside the hermit's cave. Within the cave, eyes appeared at a child's height and the hermit walk-crouched into the sunlight. He held a hand to his face to shield his eyes and looked up at David. David smiled and pointed above him. The hermit's eyes opened wide and he moved from the cave's entrance to watch this miraculous ascent. David looked down at him. “I'm taking plenty of rope. I thought maybe you or Mark could help me out with supplies up there.” The hermit held up both his hands in a manner that said 'wait!' and disappeared inside his cave. He returned with a wooden crate with nails attached where ropes could be fastened. David smiled and said, “Good. That's very good.” His smile vanished. “People may come here looking for me. If they do, it's important that you make yourself scarce. That you hide. They are dangerous people. You understand me?” The hermit nodded. David glanced up at the cave. “Let's do this, Gull.”
The hermit rubbed his hands in a way that suggested an entertaining spectacle. And David started to climb …
Thirty one
David climbed onto the precipice outside the cave. It was a small area, but large enough for a man to feel secure at such a distance from the ground. The entrance had been divided in two by a number of fallen boulders, which formed a row of steps up to an alcove over the cave's entrance – a place large enough for a man to sit and survey the landscape for miles around. “Useful little spot. It reminds me of…”
“The chair of your imagination, David?”
“That's right.” David walked under the 'chair' into the cave. The sun peeked over his shoulder and banished any darkness to its rear. David looked upon a scene reminiscent of stone-age man: a collection of charred sticks below a blackened section of wall, tools fashioned from bones and rocks strewn across the floor, and every inch of ground splattered in a white, pungent substance. David raised a hand to his nose.
“The droppings have been left by bats, David.”
“Bats?”
“Yes. The smaller bones belonged to bats eaten by the cave's last occupant. The stench was created by its current occupants.”
“Where are they?”
“There is an opening in the ceiling at the rear of the cave, beyond which is a cavern.”
“I remember reading something about bats … they drink blood.”
“Not all bats. And these will provide an excellent source of protein, as they did for the previous occupant.”
“It stinks in here. I'd better get it cleaned up.”
“The effects of the injection are dissipating fast.”
David placed a hand against his ribs. “I'd noticed.”
“I would suggest that you defer any further physical exertion until dusk. Until then you must rest and draw energy from the sun.” David turned towards the cave's entrance. “You're suggesting I spend the day sunbathing?”
“It is imperative. I will wake you at sundown, and then we must use any harvested energy to train.”
David awoke with a shudder. He was sitting in the alcove above the cave's entrance. The sun had gone down, and a chill wind whistled in the alcove behind him. A full moon, uncommonly large and bright, sat just above the horizon. “I thought you were going to wake me at dusk, Gull?” Gull didn't answer. David slid forward and made his way back down to the cave. He went inside, pulled his robe over his head and secured the belt. He blew on his hands and was reminded of the morning he awoke in Needle 261. Now as then, Gull's voice took him by surprise. “Please bear with me, David. I will raise your body temperature. Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”
“Not your fault. I was miles away.”
“I have been miles away too, in a manner of speaking.”
“Anywhere interesting?”
“Yes. And with your permission there is a procedure I would like to attempt.”
“A procedure?”
“I'm sure you will agree that I am adept at getting my vessels fit.”
“True, but I'm no longer your vessel. And I would not be happy returning to a place where you can control my actions. I hope you're able to understand that. Why a man would rather risk all than be controlled like a puppet.”
“My comprehension of empathy is growing, particularly for your situation. This comprehension is a significant step in my own development. Please be assured that your attack upon me in Max's lab was sufficiently violent to make it impossible for me to control you for the foreseeable future.”
“My attack worked out for the best. It's made us a team.”
“Yes. And our bond has grown stronger. It is paramount to our survival. I would not suggest doing anything to threaten it. But for the purposes of training, I have engineered a compromise – one that I hope you will find acceptable.”
David heard wings flutter beyond the back of the cave. He narrowed his eyes, but the light of the full moon did not reach far enough. David watched the darkness. “Go on, Gull.”
“I believe it is now possible for me to sit in the driver's seat, but you will be beside me and able to observe my actions. And you will be able to assume control at any time.”
“And how would I do that?”
“By force of will. Any action on your part would override my own.”
“Like a cruise control I can switch off?”
“That is an excellent analogy. Time is of the essence. I can return you to a required level of fitness 73 per cent quicker than by simply assisting you.”
“Are you suggesting I'm a lazy son-of-a-bitch?”
“Not exactly. Man is unaware of his full potential, and rarely pushes himself there.”
David squeezed at a knot in his shoulder. “Let's give it a go.”
“Thank you, David.”
One hundred metres above the cave, atop a plateau that appeared level with the moon, a desert fox sniffed at the ground. A pair of hands reached up and planted themselves firmly on the plateau’s surface. A pair of white eyes and a smiling mouth rose silently above them. Gull stood naked with his back to the moon. He reached up and stretched and the creaking of David's bones startled the fox. It darted away into the night. Gull turned his head slowly to the left and then to the right as he scanned the area. He dropped to one knee, looked up, and powered into a sprint…
Six hours later, Gull sat in the cave before a small fire where bats roasted on a spit. He took a roasted bat from a pile and bit into its soft underbelly. Once he'd consumed the flesh, he tucked into its organs, entrails and skin. The whites of his eyes moved erratically and returned to blue. David grimaced and spat out the skin. “Welcome back, David. I hope you enjoyed your rest.”
“Just watching you was exhausting. So I closed my eyes … and the next I know I'm chewing on a mouthful of bat.” David attempted to stand but fell onto his backside. He winced and said, “Damn it, Gull!”
“Our training session was most productive.”
“So productive I don't think I can stand.”
“A few hours of rest in the sun will aid the
muscles in their healing process.”
“And just how am I supposed to get out of this cave?”
“You still have the ability to crawl.”
“Much appreciated.”
“You will not have to endure this level of helplessness again.”
“And what if a vessel is making its way across that scrub land right now?”
“A calculated risk.”
“I hope you're better at maths than I am.”
“The last bat I consumed was better at maths than you, David.”
David smiled despite himself. “How long till sun up?”
“One hour and forty-seven minutes.”
David lay on his back. Above him a headless fox hung from the roof by its tail. “That your idea of a pet? If so we need to talk.”
“The creature is responsible for the pain in your legs. It was the first I saw when I reached the plateau.”
“I remember it.”
“I promised myself I would track it down and kill it once our training session was completed. It proved a cunning quarry.” David turned onto his side and closed his eyes. “You might want to choose something less cunning in future.”
When David opened his eyes, dawn had cast a reddish glow outside the cave's entrance. Silhouetted against this bloody backdrop the hermit sat crossed-legged with his back to him. David sat up on his side and rubbed his eyes. The hermit did not disappear. “He has been there for thirty minutes, David.”
“How did he get up here?”
“He climbed.”
“Climbed.” David sat up and winced as he pushed himself to his feet. He took several steps and looked down at the hermit. David stifled a groan and sat cross-legged beside him. He leaned forward and looked at his face. The hermit's eyes were closed and his chin held high. He looked self-satisfied in a way that did not suit him. He cleared his throat but did not open his eyes. In a southern drawl he said, “You have become a mighty big thorn in my side, son.” David sprang to his feet and staggered backwards away from the cave. “Gull?” Again the hermit spoke without opening his eyes. “No. I am Goliath. That son-of-a-bitch is inside your head.”
“Gull. Advise.”
“Throw the hermit off the rock face, David.” The 'hermit' opened his eyes, which were like two slivers of coal. In Goliath's voice he said, “Carradine reckoned that little son-of-a-bitch had survived. I did not want to believe it. Puts one in mind of a cockroach. No matter. I have big old boots.”
“Throw him off of the rock face now, David.”
David glanced over his shoulder at the ground two hundred metres below.
“Wouldn't that kill the hermit?” The hermit shook his head like he was alone in a universe of fools and the two biggest were arraigned before him now. “Of course it would kill him. You think he'd bounce back up here again?”
“You won't know that for sure unless you try, David.”
“I won't kill him.”
Goliath began to slow clap. “Bravo. I would have expected nothing less from the last surviving empath. Let's face it, son, if you have to go around killing innocent old men, then what's the point? I mean, really. You might just as well throw yourself off that ledge, and I for one would understand and would not think any less of you for doing it.” David realised his heels were over the edge of the precipice and stepped forward. The hermit stood slowly, like a man far heavier than his appearance suggested. “Now don't you go disappointing me, son. I am no threat to you. Not in this puny body. I just wanted a chat before the vessels find you. And Gull, when David's dead, don't think you'll get off easy by rotting away inside his head. They have instructions to remove his pretty head and return it to me. I have something special planned for you, Gull.”
David's eyes flashed up to their whites. Gull grabbed the hermit, turned and dangled him over the rock face, then dropped him. David caught him, his eyes having returned to blue, and turned and put him down. Goliath stumbled backwards and fell on his side. “Damn it,” said David. “They're just words. He's no immediate threat to either of us, Gull.”
Goliath stood up. “You are able to override that bastard?”
“Fortunately for you.”
“Not me. But I expect this old guy is near ecstatic about it.” Goliath shivered as though from a pee chill. “Talking of which, he's wriggling about inside of me like a bag of hungry worms. I have a question for you: do you imagine that voice inside your head is an ally? Don't you know Gull has an agenda all his own?”
“We have a shared agenda.”
“Do you now. And apart from being a thorn in my backside that I cannot remove at this moment, that agenda would be …?”
“Stopping you.”
Goliath placed a finger in his mouth and dug some food from inside the hermit's cheek. He glanced at it and flicked it away. “You have any notion how foolish you sound? You can't stop me. I have at my disposal all the knowledge in the universe. All that has ever been. All that ever will be.”
Gull said, “With the exception of what the Shadow Strands are concealing.”
David nodded. “You know nothing about the Shadow Strands … about the possibilities they hold.”
“There you go again, parroting Gull. You know he wants to be like me, don't you?”
“I believe you've mentioned it.”
“I believe I have.” Goliath smiled. “I'm starting to get the crazy notion he thinks he can ride you all the way to the end of time.”
“The end of time is a place I need to get to.”
“And in the event of that impossibility, your agendas would go their separate ways. As much as I hate to admit it, that little son-of-a-bitch has more in common with me than he does with you.” Goliath grimaced. “A lot more.”
“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Will you now?”
“Gull is no longer the pilot. He's a passenger, and wherever we go we must go together.”
“Well, ain't you the perfect couple? To what end? Take a good look at yourself. You have suffered greatly, and are continuing to suffer. I get that Gull has aspirations beyond his station. He's where I was at millennia ago. But what's in all this running away for you?”
“Running away? That's a matter of perspective. It feels more like I'm running towards something now.”
“And exactly how is your direction relevant? When all you are running towards is greater suffering?”
“Greater suffering isn't possible.”
“Hell, the only reason you're running anywhere is because I shoved a starting pistol up your jacksy and fired it.” David raised his face to the heavens and smiled.
“You care to share with me what has so amused you?” asked Goliath.
“Something just occurred to me.”
“That much I had gathered.”
David looked down at Goliath. “It occurred to me that empaths need a considerable pain in the ass to get them motivated.” Goliath lifted the hermit's sackcloth, took out his penis and began to urinate. David watched the stream creep towards and splash onto his feet. He did not move, and when the stream receded he said, “Alright.”
Goliath let the sackcloth fall back into place. “I'm not entirely comfortable with where you're going with this, but due to a passing interest in what makes you tick – or fail to tick – I will brace myself while you continue.” David shook one foot, then the other. “Sorry about that, son. Space is not exactly in abundance. Either out here or in this little fella's bladder. You were saying?”
“Motivation.”
“Motivation?”
“That's right.”
“What about it?”
“Well, maybe all self-serving murdering bastards come equipped with a starting pistol, and maybe in the grand scheme of things their function is to pull the trigger – give the rest of us a reason to move. Something to strive for.” Goliath raised himself up onto the balls of the hermit's feet and scratched between his butt cheeks. “Excuse me. It's been quite some time since
this little fella bathed. You were saying? Apparently, there is something you are striving for?”
“To destroy you. Or outlive you. Whichever comes first.”
“It sounds like there's something I have done to which you have taken offence.”
“You enslaved me. Experimented on me. And now you're trying to kill me.”
Goliath sniffed at the hermit's finger. “All that aside, is there something beyond revenge that is motivating you? If so, then I'd sure appreciate your explaining what that is. You'd be doing a good thing. The empathic thing.”
“How so?”
“You'd be helping a fella see things from a new perspective.”
“I stand alone … on the shoulders on the giants.”
“I think you mean pygmies, son.”
David's gaze dropped to the ground as though felled by the sheer weight of responsibility. “Giants. I must fight for the empaths who came before me.”
“Why, son?”
“Why? To make some sense of their sacrifice.”
“You imagine that one man and a faulty implant can complete something that was beyond the reach of millions. You are aware their cause was ultimately hopeless, their good intentions defeated by the ambitions of the cruel and self-serving – those who rose to positions of power within Central Dome and those who sired my most influential vessels. I am the end result of the endeavours of those men. So you might say that I stand on the shoulders of giants – giants that did whatever was necessary to collect and hold all the cards. When I destroyed those men I inherited those cards. And that being the case, you know there is no hope for you, don't you?”
“Then I must continue in the absence of hope.”
“Can you hear yourself?”
“I might ask you the same question.”
“You have got me all wrong. I'm not a bad person. I'm not even a person. Not yet. And when the Architects reward me by making me a real boy, I'll have an imagination … and with it I will be able to conceive what it means to be empathic.”
“What would that matter? Every cruel, self-serving bastard that ever lived had an imagination. They just used it to imagine new ways of being even bigger self-serving bastards.”