So fascinated was he that he failed to realize he held the man in his thrall. The woman stepped forward and shook the man roughly by the shoulder. “Doctor! What is wrong?”
Akar compelled the man to speak: “Everything. Everything is wrong. How has humanity come to this? I was led to believe all men had souls.”
On the table, Akar finally opened his eyes. He gazed at the brilliant light overhead, clearer and more piercing than any moonbeam, but felt no pain.
No pain.
The Necrow spoke: “I came willingly because I believed the authorities of Xiramin had wisdom. Now I see they have not wisdom at all. Your technology is lifeless. You rule over the common people as you would over beasts. There is nothing I can learn from you.”
With that, Akar compelled the doctor to reach for the table, inserting the key that would release the bonds. The doctor complied before his comrades could stop him. The bonds opened with a snap.
Akar reached up with one hand. He saw the man trembling, saw the sweat beading sharply against his bloodless skin. His small human eyes quivered in terror at the sight of the Necrow’s opaque, colorless orbs.
Akar laid his hand on the doctor’s brow, and stole the life from him.
The woman cried out as her colleague collapsed at the foot of the table. The Necrow casually swung his legs over and rose to his feet. Naked, he faced a roomful of enemies. There were gasps of astonishment from the onlookers as the flesh of his arm sealed itself. The many needles were pushed out and clattered to the floor.
Akar looked upon them, and for the first time in his existence felt something like rage. This is what you do. You seize your people without justice and subject them to experiments and ‘cures’ for the common good. You believe wrongdoing is an illusion, and the clever can use the gullible as they please! How have you come to this?
The enforcers along the walls seized implements from their belts and aimed at him, yelling for the scientists to evacuate the room. Some of them complied; most did not. Akar could feel their fascination from where they stood, watching him. Many were thinking of this as “a great learning experience.”
The woman spoke up from where she stood a few paces away. “How can we be just if there is no such thing as justice? How can we be immoral if morality is simply what we have been conditioned to believe? Why can’t the clever determine the fate of the weak, if we are more fit and thus more worthy than them to survive? We are more advanced than we have ever been since realizing these truths! You cannot deny that we have reached the pinnacle of peace, of security, of happiness, by dedicating ourselves to these principles you despise! Who are you to judge us?!”
Akar turned his impenetrable gaze upon the woman, and she quailed. Soulless she may be, yet she saw the same thing those in Herayon did: the ineffable itself, cloaked in the terror of death. Akar reached out his hand to her –
The enforcers immediately opened fire. The sleek weapons they held flung shards of metal that tore through Akar’s flesh like cobwebs, ripping him apart from the inside. He screamed in agony and collapsed against the restraining table, smoke rising from the hideous rents in his body.
The scientists had fallen back, shrieking. As the deafening racket of the weapons subsided the woman could be heard yelling: “Don’t destroy it! It must be preserved for study!”
Akar tried to draw breath, but could not. His lungs had been punctured in too many places. He was no longer aware of the rest of his body, so intense was the pain… However, it was still nothing compared to what he had suffered the night he had first opened his eyes. No, it was nowhere near as awful as that…
“Hold your fire, Lieutenant! You have ruined valuable evidence! We no longer have a living specimen –”
Akar panted and twitched where he lay, and his voice echoed in the minds of all those who had dared remain in the room. Fools. The Necrow cannot die, unless they themselves wish it! He seized them all with his inner sight, their bodies burning like torches in his mind. Weapons clattered to the floor from paralyzed fingers. Two dozen faces froze in astonishment and disbelief.
Without another word, the Necrow ripped their lives away. Two dozen bodies fell heavily to the floor. Untouched, unmarked, their eyes stared in amazement as death’s film clouded over them.
Akar rose from the table, his body whole again, with not even scars to remember the wounds. He gave his enemies one final glance before closing his eyes once more. I gave you a merciful death, unlike the deaths you dealt to others. You can be grateful for that, at least, if Samael has not yet devoured you.
The Necrow re-donned his armor, sheathed his sword, and strode from the room.
He made his way through the bowels of the tower, following the landscape of light and shadow to where more torches lay.
Akar came upon a pair of enforcers standing guard outside another lab where a group of scientists labored. He seized them all and interrogated them. Where are those who are captured kept?
As soon as the men felt the Necrow’s presence inside them they panicked, their thoughts crashing about like panicked sheep. Akar corralled them with insinuations of fear, awe, and finally a demand for information. They heaved up to him what they knew like men drowning. Akar rewarded them with the emptiness of death.
He had forgotten how simple it was; how effortless. His traveling companion had been chosen based on her ability to foil the Necrow’s powers of manipulation. He had forgotten most humans did not possess the girl’s instincts or resilience.
As he continued through the tower the Necrow wondered if, had he been human, his conscience would have been worrying him at this time. He had, after all, killed several dozen men without a second thought.
According to their own philosophy, I do nothing wrong. Does that perhaps make their deaths permissible? That odd thing which the prisoners in Herayon had called ‘conscience’ kept its silence in him. Humans must find it quite aggravating to be constantly pestered by that emotion they call ‘guilt’…
Akar descended several flights of stairs, subduing all he met, until he reached the rooms where other prisoners were held. ‘Patients’, they were called. They were not Necrow, nor even yokai, but citizens of the city who had been interred and used for experiments. According to the scientists, these people were receiving treatments for their unsound thoughts and behaviors, in addition to furthering the course of human knowledge.
The Necrow opened the door using the key from an enthralled guard and stepped inside.
CHAPTER 7
INTO THE WEST
Keren stirred from where she lay on the bench. She had smuggled a blanket from the house to keep warm against the frosty night, and had fallen asleep waiting for the Necrow to return. She lay blinking, wondering at the strange sounds echoing in her ears.
There were sirens ringing far off in the center of the city. Sounds of commotion came from the street nearby. It was a few hours past midnight, judging by what faint stars could be seen through the electric blaze of light in the sky. Keren sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She folded the blanket and saddled the mare in preparation. Her instincts warned her danger was afoot. She led the horse to the front of the garden and stood in the saddle to get a view over the tall fence.
People were running panic-stricken through the streets. Several blocks behind them charged a mob, burning and looting homes as they went. The fleeing people wore little more than their nightclothes, while the mobsters were dressed in a haphazard array of garments looted from the shops.
Distantly there came the sound of thunder. The mob roared and the vanguard turned round, clubs and knives brandished in their fists. A small group of enforcers appeared, crouched behind shields. The weapons in their hands blazed, shooting projectiles into the crowd. The mob charged with a bloodcurdling roar and overwhelmed them with sheer numbers.
Keren shuddered and ducked behind the fence, her stomach churning at the sight of the devastation. She climbed off the horse and went into the house, wondering if Mr. and Mrs. Perie
cho had remained in bed oblivious, or fled along with their neighbors. Instead she found them sitting calmly in the living room, sipping cups of tea while listening to an oaken box which projected human words.
“Oh, there you are dear!” Irene exclaimed as she entered. “We were wondering if you heard the commotion.”
“What in God’s name is going on?” Keren cried.
“There’s been a breakout,” Gregory explained. “The criminals and disordered types who were held in the Central Tower have staged a coup. They’ve escaped and are trying to terrorize us saner-minded folk.”
“Then why are you still here, drinking tea?!”
“We’re of a more relaxed disposition, dearie. We know very well the officials won’t let this get out of hand. Take a seat, if you please. The experts in the Towers are keeping us updated on the proceedings.”
A chill of intuition crept along Keren’s spine. “Was that…where Akar was taken?”
“I don’t think there’s any other place he could have gone. Perhaps he’s running amok with the others as we speak…”
“Not amok, though the others have been left to do as they will.”
Keren whirled around to see the Necrow standing in the doorway. It was just as she’d seen it a few hours ago, although – Keren shivered. There was a scowl on its features she had never seen before. “Haste should be made to leave before the ones in power regain control, if they do in fact have the means to do so.”
“Akar, what’s going on? What did you do?!”
A wry smile twisted the Necrow’s mouth. “Of course you would assume fault lay with this one, even though you have no evidence. Nevertheless, you are correct.”
Mr. and Mrs. Periecho gasped. “What are you talking about, young man? Did you play some part in unleashing this chaos upon our city?”
The Necrow looked toward them grimly, its hands clenched at its side. “This chaos was released intentionally as retribution for the crimes committed by those in power. The mob in the street was produced by individuals kidnapped from their homes, tortured for no more reason than that they held opinions which displeased those in authority. Tell me, if you can, how such people came to power?”
“Why, we elected them!” Irene exclaimed.
“Why?”
“Because they have our best interests at heart! We know laws and moral duties are things best left to experts, so we elect the ones we trust to make those choices for us. We know they may have to do some…unsavory things…in order to enforce order –”
Gregory interrupted: “Those who are deemed dangerous to society are taken in and treated until they are willing to become agreeable citizens. This is done for their own good as well as the good of others. Why do you think this is wrong? Surely your people follow a moral code as well.”
Keren looked at the two of them oddly. “You…elect people…to brainwash others into agreeing with them?”
“You misunderstand! Those who go against what logic dictates are victims of their own behavior. They can’t help thinking the way they do. They must be urged into agreement with what is right and reasonable for their own sake. Our experts are physicians, psychologists, surgeons, therapists!”
“So, what does ‘right’ and ‘reasonable’ mean to you, really?”
The Necrow spoke up behind her. “According to their experts, ‘right’ means only what they happen to agree on, and ‘reason’ dictates that any measures are permissible in order to enforce compliance among the populace.”
Keren looked back at their hosts, who nodded at the Necrow’s words. Irene noted the disturbed look on Keren’s face, and inquired blandly: “Dear, why do you judge us so? Don’t you sometimes have to do distasteful things in order to do what you think is right?”
Keren forced herself to make a reply. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Periecho. We’ll be going now.”
Keren left the house without another word. She nearly ran to where the horse stood in the yard, and didn’t realize until she gripped the bridle that she was shaking uncontrollably. The mob sounded as if it was almost upon them. Surely the Periechos knew? Surely they would come to their senses, and run before it was too late…
She looked at the Necrow. “What happened? Is that mob going to attack us? Where can we go–”
Akar held up a hand. “The mob is no danger to us. They recognize who – or what – freed them from where they were held in bondage.”
“You killed their authorities, didn’t you? Or reduced them all to drooling lunatics, rather. There’s no other way you could have gotten away and done all this!”
Akar nodded. “Indeed, your powers of deduction – or intuition, I know not which – are correct. My captors are dead. They made it clear that strangers were not welcome here.”
Keren shivered. “And I wouldn’t want to stay in this creepy place, even if they were welcoming! Let’s just go before the whole city collapses.” She mounted the horse and allowed Akar to lead the way out of the yard.
When they reached the street, the mobsters who laid eyes on the Necrow simply nodded and went on their merry way. Keren saw with dismay that they had little trouble breaking through the Periecho’s front door. She tried not to imagine what their fate might be as they fled down the street.
They made their way down to the docks and skirted the lakeside; the waters lapping gently against the seashell-boats. Above the city roared with noise and light. A few stragglers fled past them in panic. Keren had no idea where they could go; these people didn’t seem suited for survival in the wilderness. All they knew and cared about was in chaos.
She turned to the Necrow and said sharply: “This is why you shouldn’t steal things!”
Akar looked at her sardonically. “My arrest would have occurred whether or not a crime had been committed. Their authorities were only interested in studying Necrow physiology, after all. Besides, my escape was inevitable. Where is the lesson, then? As long as one can escape the consequences of one’s actions, conforming to what others deem ‘right’ is unnecessary.”
Keren could only grind her teeth at this. She wasn’t one for philosophical arguments at the best of times, and right now she was too tired and anxious to think straight. She wasn’t even willing to look at a map and figure out where they should go next. She slumped on the horse, eventually falling into fitful slumber as the Necrow led them away from the foreign city, into the vast darkness of a moonless night.
§
He spent his days in darkness, standing watch outside the cells where the enemies of his Lord were kept. He only distantly heard their cries of anguish as he absorbed himself in their thoughts. Many things were learned from them. He learned where they came from, and through them he saw vividly remembered landscapes: forests and rivers and plains far more beautiful than anything which lay within the keep. He allowed himself glimpses into their many joys and sorrows, their loves and losses and rivalries.
He did not allow himself to sink too deeply into these thoughts, out of fear that they would take root in him, and turn him into one of them. Distantly he knew in what direction those impulses lay – they were tied to the sensations conjured by the moon.
He did not yet know what became of the Necrow who gazed too long at the moon, or pondered for too long the hearts of men. Yet he knew, with some instinct deeper than instinct, that that way led to oblivion.
The most fascinating things to be found in the minds of men were not material things at all, but ideas of things which could not be seen with one’s eyes. They spoke of a Being higher than being itself, and of a creature that dwelt beneath all being and devoured the souls of the dead. Man’s purpose in life was to live in such a way that, at its end, his soul would be formed into a silver vessel and be borne away from the jaws of the beast to the place where being began. Where one’s soul sailed after, one could not say.
He pondered this, among other things. The Necrow’s duties were so easy and so long that there was plenty of time for pondering.
/> He did not engage in that abhorrent activity that some of the brethren did, where they would forsake their duties and steal away young maidens to their private quarters. He knew what rapture they felt from looking upon the flesh of their victims; how they were addicted to it. That a human should be used as an instrument to indulge in a vice that was already so unwholesome was repulsive to think of. Those same humans were later handed over to Belshazzar; for what purpose, he could not imagine. Perhaps their Lord was gracious enough to wipe the stain from their souls that his creatures’ actions had inflicted.
He was standing watch one night as usual, brooding on these things, when another Necrow approached him. This one was young; he remembered witnessing its emergence from the Well only a few weeks past. It did not behave as the other brethren did, and often neglected its duties. He could not imagine what mischief it sought to approach him with now.
‘Hail, brother,’ it thought to him.
‘Hail.’
The young Necrow stood looking at him a moment, as if pondering who he was and if it would be wise to address him.
‘Brother, I have been dreaming.’
He did not know what to say to this. ‘Do you speak of witnessing the dreams of men whose minds you have tasted?’
‘No.’
‘Then of what could a Necrow possibly dream?’
‘I dream of light, brother. A great light which pierces the very foundations of the world.’
He shuddered to hear this, knowing it to be something he had also seen. Whenever he brooded alone in the darkness of the night the memory would unexpectedly set upon him, like lightning out of the mountains. It seized his lifeless heart and filled him with delirious desires, cravings, and longings.
He feared this. To hear another of the brethren speak of it…
‘Have you gazed long at the moon, brother?’ it asked.
‘No. It is painful to look upon it.’
‘That is so. It is why I have sought you out. You also feel pain where others feel rapture. Why?’
Necrosis (The Omens of Gaia Book 1) Page 9