Qualia

by Marie Browne

  ‘Girlfriends?’

  He shook his head. ‘Too much trouble.’

  ‘Hobbies?’

  Again, he shook his head.

  ‘Fast cars, motorbikes, strip clubs, internet poker, role playing, horse racing, decorating, an odd collection of antique pince-nez or fuzzy teapot warmers?’ I stopped for breath. ‘Surely you must have done something – everyone has something.’

  Graham looked miserable. ‘Well, what did you do?’ he asked.

  ‘Books.’ I remembered my exploded lounge and felt an odd frisson of pain beneath my ribs. ‘I had lots and lots of books.’

  ‘So you didn’t really live your life either.’ Graham sighed. ‘But at least you vicariously lived other people’s, even if their lives were pure fiction. I didn’t do anything, nothing at all. The most boring man on the planet. I drifted through my days, making money, going to work, sleeping and eating.’ He turned to look at me. ‘What’s that sin with the really odd name?’

  ‘Which one?’ I racked my brain, trying to remember them all.

  ‘The one about not living life to the full – being apathetic and listless,’ he said.

  ‘Acedia?’

  ‘That’s the one.’ Graham nodded. ‘I am the embodiment of acedia. I’m acedic, if there is such a word.’

  I watched him walk away then laughed. I had lived my life. For goodness sake I’d lived a hundred times longer than he ever hoped too. How many bloody lifetimes was I supposed to embrace? He’d made it sound like my life was as bad as his; all he ever did was sit around and wait. Death would have crept up on him and he never would have done a thing to stop it, whereas I …

  I felt uncomfortable. I certainly didn’t sit around waiting for death – I didn’t need to wait for it: it chased me around with an axe and usually caught me. But had I done everything I could have? At one point I’d picked up a job lot of self-help books and had actually read one or two of them. I’d found them irritatingly awash with phrases such as “positive thinking” and “visualisation for success”. Dismissing them, I had unceremoniously boxed them all up again and given them to the local charity shop. Thinking back I couldn’t remember whether they’d been boring or guilt inducing; either way, I certainly hadn’t taken the messages on board.

  I stared over at Graham as he tucked a thick blanket around Parity like a poncho. Acedia, eh? Well, maybe I was acedic too.

  As we walked, I noticed that the ground was beginning to crunch and crackle under my boots. Being so dry the land had cracked and split; everything around us was divided into uneven hexagons of baked grey dirt. The cracks between each ranged from a few millimetres to a few centimetres in width. But now, within the bigger cracks, I could see the shining darkness of ice. I shivered and dragged my huge parka around me; I wished I’d put another pair of socks on.

  ‘So it will be OK, won’t it?’ Graham was trotting beside me again.

  ‘What?’ I looked over at him. ‘Sorry, I was just noticing that ice was beginning to form.’ I pointed down at the cracks. ‘Look.’

  ‘I was saying that I can’t see any way of Belial separating me and my passenger.’ Graham was definitely not going to allow himself to be sidetracked. He kicked a loose bit of frozen earth and watched as it skittered and bounced across the featureless frozen plain. ‘If he wants Lucifer, he’s going to have to dig him out like a winkle out of its shell.’ He pursed his lips and looked over at Parity. ‘I’m the shell and that’s the bit that gets thrown away.’ He coughed and rubbed a hand across his eyes.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ I lied.

  ‘Don’t worry, Joe.’ He continued to stare at Parity. ‘I actually wanted to thank you. It’s just a shame it has to end now that I’ve found something to live for.’ He wandered over to the punky woman, who greeted him with a big smile. Looking up into his face her expression changed to one of concern.

  Shit! He was right. Belial wasn’t having any luck coming up with a decent plan. As we plodded along I racked my brain, coming up with scenario after scenario and rejecting each one. I thought for so long I didn’t even notice that ice and snow had covered the cracks and my feet were now so cold I couldn’t feel them any more.

  ‘Cold.’ Una said, teeth chattering. Warmly wrapped in what looked like a small duvet, mittens on her hands and wearing a hat with a kitten face on it, she looked up at me then slipped her hand into mine. ‘Cold nose.’

  I looked down at her with a smile. Her little nose was very red, as were her cheeks.

  Bending down, I pulled her scarf away from her neck and up over her nose. Her big blue eyes stared at me; it was like staring at something down a hole and that something was staring back at you.

  ‘Warm,’ she said.

  I nodded.

  We looked at each other for a moment before she patted me on the hand – that odd little movement now so familiar it had become part of her personality. ‘Everything will be all right,’ she said. And with that she skipped back across the snow, her boots kicking up little flurries as she went. I stared after her. That sentence had actually made sense.

  That night, exhausted from walking all day, our feet frozen from being ankle deep in snow, hands and faces stinging and wet, we huddled in silence around another small, ineffectual fire.

  ‘Where did you find the wood, Belial?’ Parity held her hands out toward the fire, rolling her eyes in exasperation as Farr pulled her hands away from the heat.

  ‘You’ll burn yourself,’ he warned.

  Belial opened a bag and threw another small log into the centre of the blaze. ‘I brought it with us.’ He stared into the tiny fire. ‘There’s nothing out here to burn, nothing to eat, nothing to drink.’

  ‘Where’s the river?’ Carly asked.

  ‘We’re standing on it.’ Belial stared out into the darkness. ‘The ice has crept up over the years. This once was the Lethe, the last river of Hell – the river of forgetfulness.’ He tapped his foot; it made a hollow sound. ‘Now it’s just ice along with everything else.’

  ‘How far do we have to go?’ Keril, still occasionally troubled by his knife wound, looked odd wrapped up in a quilted jacket; he looked a bit like a children’s comic book character. His tail hung out from beneath the jacket and his scales were dull.

  ‘A long way,’ Belial murmured. ‘We have four regions to get through.’ He stared into the flames. ‘All the murderers and traitors were held here, but only the very worst were completely submerged in the ice. Those that had used magic for betrayal and self-gain were only in the ice up to their necks.’ He frowned. ‘But it looks as though those that were left are now buried deep within the ice. It’s going to be a very long, boring and cold trip.’

  Parity stared at the snow. ‘Do they know?’ she asked.

  Belial shook his head. ‘No, they’re alive, sort of, but they’re frozen in the waters of the Lethe. They forget everything.’

  Graham looked up from where he was tying his laces. ‘And what shall we do when we get there, eh, Belial?’ He stood up, his hands fisted at his thighs. ‘What exactly are you dragging me towards?’

  At the pregnant silence, Graham gave a disgusted snort then, wrapping himself in his blankets, he lay down and turned his back on us all.

  Belial stared at the dark hump on the ground and sighed.

  During the night, the fire had died and I was surprised we hadn’t died with it. We could hardly move it was so cold. Ice made our blankets crackle as we staggered out of them; no one had bothered to undress. Parity and Carly were pale and couldn’t stop shivering. It was frighteningly difficult to wake Keril at all – his body temperature was different from ours and the cold affected him badly.

  ‘What’s the point of this, Joe?’ I looked up to see Lucifer standing beside me as I was debating whether the cold coffee still in the pot was preferable to none at all. I didn’t have an answer for him and we stood and stared out over the huge white expanse. ‘My host is a little anxious – he’s fairly sure he’s walking to his death.’ He looked
unblinking at me then stretching luxuriously and yawned. The cold didn’t seem to affect him at all. ‘And I’m getting bored with listening to him worry – he always worries.’

  I shrugged. ‘This is Belial’s show,’ I hedged.

  ‘Ah, come on.’ Lucifer reached down and picked up a mug. Pouring cold coffee into it he brought it to his lips and blew on it; steam immediately began to rise from the cup.

  Greatly daring I held out mine.

  Lucifer regarded me for a moment then, with a shrug, warmed my drink. ‘Is it so important to get me there?’ He sipped his coffee and made a face. ‘This is really terrible, you know.’

  I nodded. I was fairly sure the stuff was strong enough to strip enamel from teeth. ‘We have no other choice.’ I cupped my hands around the hot mug. ‘You and Graham are sort of attached and we only get one of you at a time. We need to stop Metatron getting his hands on you. We need you to sort all this out.’

  Lucifer frowned. ‘Hang on a moment.’ He took my mug from me, placed it on the snow with his own then picked them both back up and handed one over. ‘Here, try that.’ He paused. ‘Sort what out?’

  I took a wary sip of my coffee. Mocha with cinnamon and a really good shot of some alcohol – it tasted so wonderful I almost cried. Sometimes it was difficult to remember exactly who this was. Just as you were getting used to the easy-going smiling side of him, the treacherous, nihilistic personality would suddenly surface and you would be forcibly reminded just what was standing next to you. I cradled my cup for a moment then looked up to find Lucifer grinning at me. ‘We need to go back to the way things were,’ I said, trying to ignore the delicious smell rising from my mug. ‘If we bring you back, then God comes back and he can deal with Metatron. It’s got to be better than Metatron wiping the board clean and starting again.’

  ‘Bring God back?’ Lucifer laughed. ‘Back from where? Just because he won’t answer the call of some psychotic megalomaniac …’ he snorted a laugh. ‘… whatever makes you think He went away?’

  ‘Metatron said that you two were linked and, as you faded, so God faded as well.’

  Lucifer looked surprised. ‘Now, that’s an interesting theory.’ He stared off over the ice for a long moment and then, with a sudden movement that made me jump, poured the last of his coffee down his throat. ‘Let’s test it out, shall we?’

  Reaching up into the air he began to draw a rectangle with one outstretched finger. The shining outline began to glow and fill with steam. ‘It’s a lot of fun to go for a walk in the country,’ Lucifer shouted over the sounds of cracking and grating. ‘But now I think I have things I need to do.’

  The steam became darker and the swirling clouds slowed to become whorls and knots in a perfectly ordinary, heavy wooden door.

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you all if you’re enjoying this little expedition.’ Lucifer studied his handiwork. ‘But I can’t take the time to faff about and watch you lot die of hypothermia. As incredibly funny as it would be.’ He kicked the door open and peered inside. ‘Shall we?’ He indicated the darkness inside.

  It may have been dark but it was also warm and damp. The sounds of dripping water echoed around the long stone corridor. It gave us the opportunity to disprove a theory. Cold people move slower than warm people – isn’t that the accepted maxim? Well, it’s wrong. It took only seconds for the whole party to rush through the door. Packs were hastily filled and many things just got left behind as everyone scrambled to get away from the cold. Keril staggered through last– he could barely put one big foot in front of the other; Farr was holding him up. Once through the door he slid down the damp wall and lay on the floor, still and quiet.

  Lucifer pushed hard on a small grey stone that protruded slightly from the wall.

  Lights hanging from the high ceiling began to glow. Small three-bulb chandeliers stretched as far as the eye could see – little triplets of light that reminded you of the effect of looking into two mirrors, one directly facing the other: it was like looking into infinity.

  ‘Still a bit of a way to walk.’ Lucifer stuffed the torch back into the bag. ‘But it’s easier than slogging through all that white stuff.’

  He began to walk away, his thick boots making no sound on the pale wet sand that covered the floor.

  As we staggered after him the sounds of dripping stopped and the walls became dry. The only sounds were the scuff of feet through velvet sand.

  Lucifer shook his head. ‘Can’t you lot go any faster?’ He turned with a frown. ‘It’s like parade day for the old people’s home.’

  Belial handed him a huge backpack. ‘Carry this if you have the energy,’ he said.

  ‘Just leave them.’ Lucifer turned to face us. ‘There’s nothing in there you’ll want. They won’t go anywhere. You can always come back and get them if you really feel the need.’

  We set the packs down, repacking food and water into smaller bags and distributing them among the group. Bags of blankets, cooking utensils, clothes and other unnecessary rubbish made a tall pile on top of which Una gleefully placed her kitten hat and mittens. ‘Snowman,’ she announced.

  Carly laughed and gave her a hug. ‘Bagman,’ she corrected. Una giggled.

  With our loads lightened, warm and dry – and in much better spirits – the party walked on.

  ‘How long is this corridor?’ Belial hailed Lucifer who was leading the way.

  ‘As long as you need it to be,’ came the enigmatic reply. ‘Have you talked yourself into believing that your plan’s good yet? Are you reconciled to what you’re about to do?’ Lucifer swung round and faced Belial. The group staggered to a stop. ‘Because that’s an entirely innocent man you need to dispose of. His only crime is to have been born in the wrong line. He’s never done anything wrong – in fact, he’s spent his whole life battling against my influence and because of that he hasn’t enjoyed any kind of life at all.’ He gave Belial a cheerful grin. ‘So if you need a little more time, we can just keep walking.’

  Belial faced Lucifer. ‘I know what has to be done,’ he said.

  ‘Good for you, well done.’ The Morning Star clapped the irritated demon on the shoulder, then turned and walked on, whistling.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting to find at the climax of this journey but I think it was just more than we actually got.

  I couldn’t help myself. ‘Is this it?’ I did try very hard to take the sneer out of my voice.

  Belial nodded, looking pale and unhappy.

  The doors ahead of us were impressive enough in their own way: ancient blackened oak bound by iron rods and nails which had rusted and pitted over the eons. Etched deep into the wood was a huge symbol – I recognised it immediately. It looked like the symbol of Lucifer that you find all over the internet and, although the basic shape was there, certain additions made it uncomfortable to look at for long.

  An open eye stared malevolently from the centre of the sigil. The downward strokes formed the leaf shape of that well-known blade and the tops of the “X” in the centre swept upward in tall rams-horn curves. Even if you had never seen this particular collection of sweeping lines before, there’s no way that you’d go through this door with a happy heart.

  I could feel Graham trembling at my side.

  ‘You OK there?’ I looked over at him, just to check who I was talking to, and when he didn’t reply gave him a nudge. ‘Graham, are you all right?’

  ‘Home again, home again, jiggety, jig.’ The trembling stopped suddenly and the dry, tired voice of Lucifer echoed around the passage.

  Parity who had been having a long and quiet chat with Belial sighed and stepped forward. ‘Hi, Graham,’ She gave him a little girl gaze, looking up at him from under her lashes.

  ‘Wait …’ Carly reached out to stop her but it was too late.

  The man at my side turned slowly. His gaze lingered on her face for only a second before he looked away to study the hand she’d laid on his arm.

  ‘You know …’ Parity continued, ‘
… when this is all over maybe you and I ought to go out and see the sights – get a little mad and see where we end up, eh?’ She smiled, putting as much sex appeal as she could into that gaze. (I have to admit, you’d have to be three years dead not to be affected by it).

  Graham lifted one side of his lip. ‘And why,’ he paused, ‘witch, would we want to do that?’ He pulled his arm from under her hand. ‘Not this time.’ He looked up at Belial and took a deep breath of the old air. ‘Not here, not now and thankfully not ever again. Oh, and do remember, dear heart, just because I had the whim to keep you alive last time we touched doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind.’ He smiled at her and leant in close. ‘So, do you want to repeat that interesting offer you were making?’

  Parity blanched then, shaking her head, dropped her hand and backed away. Apparently, Graham had gone for good and there was nothing that could be done now. Lucifer was back, his human vessel submerged for ever; we’d got exactly what we wished for.

  The Morning Star laughed. Closing his dark eyes he placed one slim hand on the door. From his back smoke began to rise, spiralling and twisting up into the air above his head. The dark matter coiled and turned in on itself as it thickened and curved to a point above Lucifer’s head.

  ‘Black spirits and red, old spirits and grey, mingle, mingle, ye that may.’ Lucifer sang gently to himself as he pushed the door open and took a step into the darkness beyond.

  He stopped just past the door and looked back at us. ‘Well, my escorts, my little troop of troublemakers, will you just stop here, cowering and clucking like abused chickens? You that have come so, so far just to make sure I get here – just to make sure that I’m safe?’

  The sneer was back and it didn’t sound like an invitation anyone with any sense would accept. I certainly wasn’t going into that room with him.

  ‘Well, thank you for walking me home.’ Lucifer smiled around at us all. ‘You can go now.’ He closed his eyes; his wings solidified and became muscle and feather. He’d had wings before but these were different – bigger, thicker, more real – as much a part of the man as his white hair and dark green eyes. Black as a raven’s, his primary feathers brushed the floor. The tips pulled the dust into small sand devils that twisted and danced behind him as he moved, drunken worshipers doing the conga at a bacchanalian feast. Above his head the huge wings faded into smoke at the very apex.