by Rex Jameson
Chapter 22
The Chaos Primal
The demons of the First Legion lounged against the floating stones and metal discs that circled the drains in an hourglass vortex between Order and Chaos. Even with his eyes closed, Lucifer could feel the eyes of his demon subordinates on him at times, waiting for him to give the command to leave.
Playing cards with naked ladies on them dinked against the larger ovals as men staved off their boredom. Even if only an hour had passed in Alurabum, three months spent in a vortex was still three months wasted in a vortex.
Sariel hustled the officer circles, depriving colonels of three months’ pay. Lucifer never told them about the spare deck his brother stuffed into the nooks of his armor. He assumed these educated demons would catch the cheater eventually, or maybe he just didn’t want to have to deal with the fallout.
To clear his mind, he isolated himself from the rest. He found an empty seat on top of a rock outcropping at the center of the vortex. Fierce winds tore at the loose fabrics in his black-and-red armor, and his wings whipped around him in the currents. He was waiting for the voice to manifest itself again. Back in the Harpathian Vortex, shortly after Batarel took Anne back to Order, the darn thing wouldn’t shut up. Now, it was silent as stone.
“Are you there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Sariel said. “What’s up?”
Lucifer opened his eyes. “Tired of taking the colonels’ money?”
“The key to keeping a sucker in the ringer for three months is letting him win some of it back. Speaking of three months, when are we leaving?”
“After I make contact again.”
“Right …” Sariel said. “You realize some of the men think you are crazy?”
“When you say some of the men, I take it you’re included in that bunch?”
“Naturally. But seriously, brother, projected voices in your head? Not normal. Highly abnormal.”
“He said he was the Primal.”
Sariel dropped to his haunches. “Excuse me?”
“He told me to come to this vortex, but he didn’t say much else.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Sariel said. “A voice in your head claimed to be the Chaos Primal and not only did you believe it, but you went out of your way to follow the prank call here, where you wasted the time of 50,000 demon friends, too? You should play cards with us.”
“Where would they have gone, Sariel?” Lucifer asked. “Alurabum? I think not. Eranos would have killed them. Even if this expedition were a waste of our time, this vortex is about as safe a place as I can think of when it comes to hiding an entire army. And besides, it gives us an eternity in Chaos time to think about what we’ll do next.”
“Thought of anything yet?”
“I’ve thought about punching you in the face.”
“It took you three months to figure out that you wanted to clock me upside my head?”
“No,” Lucifer said. “It’s been a persistent instinct of mine since birth.”
Sariel nodded in understanding, and Lucifer shook his head.
“Did the voice tell you where we needed to go next?” Sariel asked.
“Well, the army stays here.”
“Until when?”
Lucifer picked up a rock and threw it into the wall of the maelstrom. “Until we get back, I reckon. We’re supposed to find the Architect. I just don’t know where to start.”
Seriously? The voice said. That’s what you are waiting on?
“It’s been three months,” Lucifer said. “What did you think was going on here?”
It’s been only an hour in Chaos, the pattern said. Still, that’s fifty minutes too long.
“Hey,” Sariel said, lifting his head to address the voice. “I should be the only person driving my brother crazy, here.”
“You can hear him, too?” Lucifer asked.
“Yeah. I guess he’s tuning me in as well. Or maybe I’m just a natural conductor for sarcasm.”
A chuckle echoed inside their heads.
“Arghhh!” Sariel complained. “You’re rattling my skull over here.”
Sorry. Haven’t been able to talk for a few million years.
Sariel scoffed at the air. “If you were really a primal pattern, no one could stop you.”
There was no answer for a dozen seconds or so, and then they noticed the walls of the vortex morphing and a gigantic bubble growing near them. When it finally burst, a raging torrent blew the vortex apart, spitting the demons into space. The 50,000 members of the startled First Legion groped in the darkness, pulling wingless lesser demons to them and struggling to find something solid.
Lucifer tried screaming into space, but the lack of atmosphere stopped him from expressing his frustration.
Oops, sorry.
The vortex reappeared and sucked them inside. There were no rocks or metal discs yet. They would just have to reform over another thousand years or so.
“And we’re the stupid ones?” Sariel asked.
Lucifer covered his brother’s mouth. “Don’t mind him. We used to drop him a lot as a child. It was great fun at the time, but after a million years of dealing with the consequences, we’ve come to understand the error of our ways.”
I’m glad to hear that you won’t continue the trend with your son.
Sariel pushed Lucifer’s hand away. “I’ll trend your face! You made me lose my cheat deck!”
“Your what?” Dantel, one of the colonels, asked.
“Nothing,” Sariel said as he pulled Lucifer between himself and the man he had hustled.
“Come here, you little scoundrel!” Dantel yelled as he pushed Lucifer aside with a wing and snagged his brother, who cursed and kicked at him while Dantel punched him in the sides.
“They’re your creations,” Lucifer said.
No, they’re not. Demons were conceived by Archimedes, as were elves.
“Conceived?”
Yes. His DNA courses through your veins. That’s why you and Anne were able to successfully mate.
“But wait,” Sariel said as he extricated himself from Dantel’s grip. “Wouldn’t that mean that Lucifer had sex with a distant cousin?”
Yes. And he’s nowhere near your record of intercourse with your distant relatives.
“I had a really good time in Arnessa, didn’t I?”
The primal chuckled again, but this time it wasn’t as jarring.
“That was much better,” Lucifer complimented him. “Nowhere near as uncomfortable.”
Thank you.
“I’m going to be honest,” Sariel said. “This whole conversation gives me the creeps. I’m not sure how I feel about a sentient primal.”
Neither was the Council. That’s why they silenced me. As is the case with most adolescents, eventually they think they know everything. And what they don’t know, they try to get rid of.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Sariel said. “I’m just an assassin. Need me to kill someone? Maybe a rival pattern?”
No! the pattern screamed, causing all of the demons present to futilely cover their ears and shriek in pain at the voice that appeared to come from inside them. My apologies. That’s how we got to this point in the first place. No more pattern assassinations. Long ago, I thought that was what my father wanted. Archimedes told me he had created me as an experiment in Chaos Theory, and so I studied up on it by watching the processes inside me, and I enhanced them. Eventually, I started consuming and disrupting some of his other patterns. I thought he would be proud, but he was just angry. Hasn’t talked to me since.
“Wait,” Lucifer said, “if you can’t get ahold of the Architect, then how the heck am I supposed to?”
I’ve been trying to dangle the child in front of him to get him to bite.
“You know, you’re the second god figure to talk of my son Christian as something other than a person. With Jehovah, he was a necessary carcass. With you, he’s bait for another god.”
My apologies. Christian is the cro
wn jewel of my existence. Archimedes is just an ornery, old horny academic who I hope will be happy with what we’ve done.
“What we’ve done?” Lucifer asked. “As in you and I? I seem to recall that Christian was Anne‘s and my doing.”
Oh, please. You think you’d really have gotten this far without my help? Without me, Batarel would have slaughtered Anne and Persephone right where they lay. Without me, you would be as dead as the rest of the Kadingirs, and we would all crumble away into the cosmic winds. If I had let you and your obnoxious brother die, even Jehovah, in all his madness, wouldn’t be interested in us as a side project, much less trying to hook me into his great experiment. We’d be finished.
“What’s so important about us?” Lucifer asked. “Chaos leadership has changed hands more times than anyone can count, and though my father did an exceptional job, the realm seems to handle change just fine.”
Yes, because the Kadingirs have still proliferated up to this point. We’ve never seen a demon quite so mad as Eranos. He bathes in my projection and his imperfections corrode his sanity. Chaos is too weak to stand his rule much longer. I need a vessel of the true royal family. You, Lucifer, will certainly do. Your son, though? He would make me twice as powerful.
Lucifer puffed up his chest and beamed with pride. “My boy?”
When you can finally take him from Jehovah, yes.
“Batarel is working on that,” Lucifer said.
Fool of a wizard! Just because Jehovah has put him in that enhanced body doesn’t make him Jehovah’s match, especially not in the middle of Order. Batarel will not be able to wrest Christian back to us. You’ll need the Architect. Only he will understand what Jehovah has done and how to undo it.
“I don’t want to undo Order,” Lucifer said. “Jehovah must be stopped, but his wife helped Anne and me, and his creatures are my friends. You said you didn’t want pattern assassinations. The Order Primal is a pattern.”
It wasn’t made by Father.
“Maybe the multiverse needs some diversity,” Lucifer said, “and a lot less hypocrisy. I don’t see a reason that we can’t survive in our corner of the multiverse and Order in its own?”
Even after it schemed against you and took your mate?
“One creature does not a pattern make.”
But one creature did make that pattern, and Jehovah integrated himself into his creation. The point where Jehovah ends and the pattern begins is indiscernible.
“Jehovah is the real enemy,” Lucifer said. “You give me the power to kill him, and I’ll show you where that line is.”
We’ll see. But first, find the Architect. If anyone knows how to reverse that beam of energy aimed at my main projection inside the Courts, it’s Father. See if the elves can help you coax him out.
“I’ll call on Elandril in Arnessa. I’m sure he would follow us wherever, but first, I need to know where to go.”
If you call on Elandril, you’re already there. Archimedes favors the Elven Realm. It’s his favorite creation.
“Oooooh,” Sariel said. “Not very good at hiding your emotions yet, are you? As a fellow runt of the litter, I can help you with that inferiority complex. You and I should go out drinking some time. I’ll get you laid.”
The pattern laughed again. I’m afraid that’s a bad idea. I don’t mean to brag, but when we are at a bar, and I tell you that I would destroy that one, I really mean it.
Sariel put his elbow on Lucifer’s shoulder and smiled at his brother. “You know what, Mr. Primal? You’re all right. If I end up rebuilding the Council, I think I might go out of my way to leave you uncorked this time.”
The pattern was silent for over a minute.
Sariel shrugged his shoulders. “Too soon?”
“I haven’t felt a look of scorn that powerful since Anne was alive,” Lucifer said. He smiled and closed his eyes as he remembered her face glaring at him. What he wouldn’t give to even see her angry at him once more!
Just get your asses to Arnessa, the pattern grumbled.