by Eric Black
“Each battalion is equipped with enough men to function properly?”
“They are. They await your command.”
The Keeper marveled at the efficiency of his army. “Very good. I know everyone is tired. We all deserve time to rest and recover. The Erőd is only a few blocks away and is a good place to accomplish that.”
“And if the Chokka is there?”
“Whatever army he has managed to piece together will not be able to match firepower with us. We may be battle weary but we are not weakened. In fact, I would prefer he was there. Why not go ahead and take care of our problem right now? That will make tomorrow that much more enjoyable.
They began the orderly march to their headquarter complex and Babel was ready for them.
From the tower of the Erőd, Babel had watched the Klopph come through the portal. And he was not alone. Once they had established that the Erőd was truly abandoned, Jims set up his headquarters and moved with surprising speed, sending messengers and rousing the people of the world against the Keeper. Once people began to arrive, they worked together to cleanse the pockets of crime and reestablished order.
Thousands of people descended on Orleans and more arrived daily. By the time the Klopph returned, the number of people supporting the revolution movement matched the number of Klopph. It was true that the Klopph were far superior in training but the element of surprise was on the side of the revolution. The Keeper would be arrogant and would not expect to be assaulted with such magnitude.
Babel waited until the Klopph neared. They marched in tight formation: eighty thousand Klopph without concern of reprisal on their own soil. Babel waited until they reached a block of the fortress and then boxed them in with a wall of fire. He generated as much heat as he could within the blaze and pushed flame wall upwards until the height was double of that of a man. Then, he squeezed the burning partition inwards.
Within a matter of moments, the entire Klopph army was ablaze. There was no escape. Babel did not care about the Klopph suffering – as much as they deserved to suffer – he just wanted them dead.
The Elder Quarter was filled with the rumble of flames. The deep cries of dying men pleaded as the stench of burning flesh filled the noses of those hiding in the city. Babel noticed none of this. He was focused only on the removal of the Klopph from the world.
In less time than it took for the Keeper to take everything in and react, his entire army was dead. Babel lowered the flames and scoured the scorched street for survivors. He saw none. The heat had been so penetrating that all that remained were charred lumps unrecognizable as corpses.
The Keeper and the Cancellarrii had fallen back as many military leaders do while the Klopph assembled and moved to the Erőd. The two had entered an office complex, a place that had obviously been looted during the time they were in the other world. The walls within were stripped and the contents of the offices were void of supplies and equipment. The Keeper was pleased that without his presence, the city had fallen into corruption.
“It appears all has gone to plan.” the Keeper said approvingly. “We will give the Klopph two days to rest. The word will spread quickly that we have returned and I do not think we can spare more. I would like you to take a few days in one of the outer palaces. Your choice. The Chokka can wait a few days. Go there, relax, and come back rested and focused on finishing the Chokka threat.”
The Cancellarrii started to object but that is when the windows of the building exploded inward. Flames spilled into the room and both men dropped behind a counter space. The walled counter provided little protection from the gushing flames but it did keep their burns to a minimal.
They crawled along the floor and entered a back room. The heat was intense and they could feel their skin burn. They had to get out. The back room led to another and finally to an exit.
The doorway led to the alley and the Keeper and the Cancellarrii remained there as the reverberation of burning air filled their brains. They were no strangers to the scent of burning flesh as it reached them.
After what seemed like ages, the air began to cool and all was silent. They snuck from their place in the alley, backs against the wall and what they saw when they breached the open street was difficult to decipher. Where their force should have stood was now only mounds of ashes. The street had become a grave with scorched buildings as tombstones.
There was no explanation as to what had happened. They stood in silence, two old friends that had begun designing their version of the world in the desolation of their childhood villages. They watched as the smoke of smoldering bodies began to thin and they could see the Erőd.
There they saw the man in the tower. And they knew who that man must be. It was the Chokka.
CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE
The people of the world had gathered in the city for a reason. It was true that the Keeper had kept them safe. But that safety came at a cost. There was the perpetual fear of the Klopph – the fear that one could disappear into the night, the fear that a teenage son would sneak out to see his loved one and never be seen again for breaking the curfew. Fear always turns to anger and it was no different for these people.
The thousands who had come to the city at the request of the Chokka had stood back in the shadows between the buildings. They watched in horror (but in also relief) the death of the Klopph. Now that the Klopph were only a depraved memory, they stepped forward into the street and they saw the two men that had caused them so much hurt.
The Keeper and the Cancellarrii faced the crowd before them and had no other options. They were alone. And so they turned and ran.
Babel watched as they ran. He had never seen men torn apart but imagined that was the death before these two men as the crowd reached them. They had been a hundred yards from the crowd at the end of the street and so had a sizable lead on the crowd. Plus, the crowd as they turned to pursue the two men became tangled in each other as the crowd converged on the street at once.
From his vantage point, Babel could see the Keeper and the Cancellarrii turning towards the river. Perhaps they had some sort of craft waiting there and their plan was to escape by water. He would not let them.
He scanned the area quickly and saw where he wanted their flight to end. He would help them get to that point and as they ran, he started a fire in their path. They made to turn to their left but he started a fire in that direction as well, forcing them right.
The Keeper cursed the Chokka as he ran. He knew that they were being drawn into a trap of some sort but were powerless to stop it. The Cancellarrii had a weapon but its range was not long enough to reach the Chokka.
Every attempt to get to the river was choked. Several Klopph surveillance craft awaited there that would allow them to escape upriver; he could see them but was unable to reach them.
Instead, they were faced with a large stone wall. Both men knew then where the Chokka was leading them. And now, it was not only the flames that outlined their path. The mob had escaped from the city street and now surrounded them on all sides. The flames rose again and the Keeper beheld in horror the closed gateway before them.
The gateway was only somewhat physical and did not bar humans from entering or leaving. It’s more appropriate design was to keep in that beyond the wall, to which the gateway was very physical.
They became desperate and for the first time considered chancing the fire. Even if they made it through to the ravenous mob beyond the flames, it would be a better death than what awaited them inside of the gates. The flames would be painful, but if they perished there, at least it would be over.
Babel sensed their desperation and would not give them the choice. He increased the temperature of the fire until it was unbearable and survival instinct took over for the Keeper and Cancellarrii. The natural constitution within to live at all cost propelled them away from the fire and unknowingly through the gateway.
The flames followed them inside and contained them. Babel then created a circle of fire, trapping the two men
as well as one tree.
The Cancellarrii knew what would come next and turned to his Keeper. “You take my body shield. You are more important to this world than I am. You must survive.”
The Keeper looked at his oldest friend. In that melancholy moment, he was able to smile sadly. “Your shield will not last the fire. Our army is dead. We have lost the world. All we have now is each other and I will not abandon you, old friend.”
The Cancellarrii nodded and then held up his head. He would face death with his mentor and shrink from it. He started to speak but his words were cut off by a shrill chirp. They had been noticed by the Pishacha.
The monsters licked their lips and grinned, causing their faces to shrink upwards until all that could be seen was teeth.
For a moment they did not move. Then, without pretense, they spit and charged.
The Keeper heard the Cancellarrii scream and tried to avert his eyes as his longtime friend was eaten alive.
Then, pain entered his own world. The Pishacha were on him and their weight forced him onto the ground. There would be no escape.
The Keeper screamed his way to his death and out the lives of the people of the world.
CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
Babel kept his eyes on the cemetery a few moments longer. The only movement there came from the creatures that ate the dead of the world. With mixed emotions, he turned from the window and treaded slowly down the stairs the main corridor of the building where Jims and Quentin awaited.
“It is done.” Jims sighed.
“It is done.” Babel agreed.
“The Keeper is gone from this world.” Quentin looked exhausted. “So what is next?”
“Next you go home to your family.”
Jims nodded in agreement. “There will be much to do in the following days and weeks. I would like nothing more right now than to be with my wife.”
“You’re right.” Quentin replied. “It will do all of us well to rest for the night. We will meet back here in the morning?”
“Take your time.” said Babel.
“And where will you go?” Quentin asked Babel.
“I hadn’t thought about it. Perhaps I will stay here tonight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re coming home with me.”
Babel relented and followed Quentin to his house. He was surprised to see Triana waiting for them in the living room.
After dinner, Babel made his way exhausted to the room that was designated for him. He passed by the bedroom of two of Quentin’s daughters. The open door revealed Quentin kneeling, saying goodnight to them. One of the daughters noticed Babel in the hallway. “It’s okay, you can come in. We’re just saying goodnight to our father.”
Babel was hesitant at first – he didn’t want to interrupt this moment – but he entered and sat on the edge of one of the soft beds. Quentin smiled at him and the contentment was obvious. In that moment, Babel was assured that they had been in the right. He had killed thousands of men – men with mothers, but sitting there in the bedroom, he knew he had done what was necessary. Quentin’s daughters would now grow up in a much better world. His soul, which had been storming, now soothed.
“Thank you for what you did.” Quentin’s youngest daughter said to Babel.
Babel did not cry but he came close. “It was my pleasure.”
Quentin beamed the way only a father can. He kissed both girls and Babel and he left the room. “I want to thank you as well.” he said when they had entered the hallway. “It is because of you that I am here in my house with my children.”
“And it’s because of your family that I am here. If Triana had not found me that night outside of the cemetery, there is no telling what might have happened.” His mind flashed back and he thought of his father.
Quentin sensed Babel’s thoughts. “I never knew your father as a man but he was a great kid. He would be proud of all you have done here. You remind me of your father. He had great courage and was quick to smile. You share the same qualities.”
Babel reached out and shook Quentin’s hand. “Thank you, my friend.”
“You bet. Now, I’m off to get some sleep. You should do the same. Tomorrow begins a series of full days for you.”
Babel bid Quentin goodnight and went off to find his bedroom. Once inside the room, he didn’t even take off his shoes before lying on the bed. He was asleep in seconds.
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
Sometime in the night, Babel’s door opened. He was sound asleep but had learned to be a light sleeper during his nights sleeping scared in the Outerlands. A faint light from the hallway fell through the open doorway and revealed a silhouette of a woman. “Triana” said Babel softly.
The silhouette entered the room and the door closed behind, cutting off the light from the hallway. “Are you asleep?”
“I was but obviously not now.”
“Would you like me to leave?” As she asked the question, Babel could see her shape in the moonlight unbuttoning her nightshirt. The last button unclasped and allowed the shirt to slide down her body to the floor. She joined him in the bed.
“I’ve missed you.” Babel admitted.
“I’ve missed you. Now, do you want to talk? Because I had something else in mind.”
In response he met her lips with his own. They made love then in the way that only couples who have been apart from each other can. Babel poured all of the emotion from the day into his passion for her. The fear and the anger and the sorrow poured through into the passion he had for her. Then, at the end it all slipped away.
They separated, her body heat radiating next to him as they lie in the moonlight. Their fingers were intertwined completing the connection of energy that passed between them. Triana rolled to her side and Babel felt her naked body against him. She raised her chin to speak into his ear and Babel awaited her sweet words.
But the words didn’t come. What came was a sharp pain that was a surprise to Babel and he didn’t react at first. It wasn’t until he saw the glint of moonlight on steel that he recognized that all was not as it seemed. He felt warmth spreading down his chest and even in the shadows, the crimson color of blood was revealed.
Babel reached up in vain to stop the flow of blood that streamed from his lacerated neck. Moments later he was dead.
Triana had been given the gift of ajándék by the Keeper. She had not taken the gift willingly but it had been given to her nonetheless. As such, she opened herself to programming by the Keeper. Even after his death she remained his weapon.
Now, the weapon had completed its task. And it was not just the death of the Chokka for which she had been programmed. With her ability of feeling touch, she could feel the new life within her. That life was less than an hour old but she could sense her son – Babel’s son – within in.
She slipped away from the bed, washing the blood from her body. Then, she passed through the hallway undetected back to her own room. She passed into a deep, dreamless sleep as the night slipped away into morning. The light of that morning would reveal what had occured and bring upon them the next stage in the Keeper’s plan.
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT
It was determined that Babel would be buried in honor with his family. The Chokka had been buried for years in unmarked graves, known only to exist by a few. Quentin was one of those select few.
A distraught Triana insisted to her uncle that Babel’s mother in the other world be informed. Such was the emotional state of Triana that Quentin relented and allowed the request. Triana thanked her uncle and left an unsuspecting Jims and Quentin alone.
“Poor girl.” Jims commented. “She has been through so much and now this.”
Quentin nodded silently. “So who will go to the other world to inform Babel’s mother?”
“Are you kidding? Do you really think Triana is going to let anyone but herself go?”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“I was planning on going with her. Does that make you feel better?”
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Quentin agreed that it did. “Who do you think killed Babel? I can’t imagine any of the Klopph surviving their inferno.”
“Could be a Keeper loyalist. There were those who benefited personally from the Keeper and someone like that would have lost much with the Keeper’s death. You’ll need to keep an eye out while I’m gone.”
Quentin sighed. “There is much to do to rebuild this world.”
“Yes, there is. And now that you are the Császár, people will look to you.”
“Will I be accepted as the Császár? There has not been a Császár who was not a Chokka.”
“It is a new time. Besides, your successor has already been picked out.”
Quentin smiled. “My great-nephew. Imagine, the line of the Chokka now part of my family.”
“Triana is going to need a lot of help to raise him the ways of the Chokka. I can’t think of anyone better than you to train him.”
“I’m glad you have confidence. Anyways, you can see for yourself who I’m doing when you get back.”
Two days later, Quentin joined Jims and Triana on the grounds of what had been the Erőd and was now once again called the Palātium. Quentin bid his farewells and called the Bejárat.
Through the angry clouds, Quentin saw Babel’s world. He witnessed the damage that could have only been done by the Klopph as a pile of scorched, broken marble that had once been the Taj Mahal.
Jims and Triana walked forward into the portal. And then they were gone.
CHAPTER FIFTY NINE
Some months later, Triana’s taxi pulled up to the house. She had finally made her way to the home of Babel’s mother.
Jims had not made the journey with her. His corpse was rotting in a drainage ditch not far from the Taj Mahal a far as Triana knew. She had left him in that ditch after she slit his throat.