Daemon

by Doug Dandridge

  Something screeched in the air and Jude looked up through the open roof of the vehicle. There was a large raptor, much like the one he had seen in the desert. He looked up the mountain slope, which was covered in a thick blanket of pines, all tall and straight and healthy. A trio of deer, two does and a fawn, browsed at the edge of the forest and continued to eat as the vehicle, dogs and sheep ran by.

  “How?” asked Jude, pointing into the valley.

  “The Good God provides,” said Mary with a beaming smile. “He provides for all our needs, as long as we remain faithful to his commands.”

  “That is why we admonished you to not use magic,” said Bob, his face stern. “The Good God might turn his back on us if we were to allow the use of that which is killing the rest of his world in this sanctuary.”

  “I understand,” said Jude, his wondering eyes looking back and forth over the valley. “Are all the missions like this?”

  “Some are larger,” said Mary, smiling. “Some are smaller. All are teeming with life. One day we hope the Lord will do this for the rest of the world.”

  “I had no idea,” said Jude. He looked up at the nearest peaks that were shining with the red glow of the setting sun. “What about the night? How do you handle the Shadows without lighting everything? I don’t see how you could light this whole valley up bright enough to chase them away.”

  “Shadows don’t come here,” said Bob, looking smug. “This is holy ground. The Good God would not allow them to come here.”

  “The Good God would not allow them to come here,” whispered Jude, looking out at the valley and wondering how the rest of the world could have so missed the boat.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gerald Stranger had the same blue eyes as his daughter. On him they lent a fierce look that couldn’t exist on her lovely face. He was just a little shorter than Jude, and very thin, with long graying black hair that fell down his back. He shook Jude’s hand with a surprisingly firm grip.

  “My daughter has told me about you,” said the Priest, inviting Jude into his home. “Sent us a damned letter the day after she met you.”

  Jude wondered about a priest using a curse word in such a casual manner. But Marlene Stranger, his wife, seemed to take it in stride.

  Jude walked into the comfortable home. There were no glow globes on the walls or ceilings. Everything was lit with gas lamps or electric lights, which gave out an illumination that was not as bright as magic, but seemed more comforting to the eye. He glanced out a window as he walked into the living room, which boasted a pair of overstuffed couches. It was getting dark out there, and people were walking along the road, outside, in the growing shadows between the light. Jude wanted to call out to them, to tell them they needed to get to the light. But there were no Shadows out there, and the people did not fear the dark.

  “Make yourself comfortable, young man,” said Marlene Stranger. “Dinner will be ready shortly.”

  The wife was much shorter and wider than her husband, but still of pleasing appearance. Jude could see a lot of the daughter coming from her as well, and thought that he might be able to spend his life with such a woman.

  Jude smiled his thanks, then fell into a soft couch while Gerald made him a drink and handed it to the Detective. Jude nodded and took a sip of the drink, tasting the smoothest bourbon it had ever been his pleasure to slide down his throat.

  “Do you make that here?” he asked, swirling the liquid in the glass.

  “No,” answered Gerald, putting his own glass on an end table while he sat back in his easy chair. “We trade with another mission for this. An area to the southwest of us in a region that used to be called Kentuck.”

  “Very good stuff,” said Jude, taking another sip and savoring the taste.

  Gerald pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and perched them on his face, then took a long look at Jude. Jude began to feel a bit anxious under that scrutiny, though he tried to return the gaze in a neutral fashion.

  “So how did you find yourself stranded in the Great Eastern Desert?” Stranger finally asked.

  “I didn’t really find myself there,” said Jude with a tight smile. “I was dumped from an airship over the desert from low altitude.”

  Stranger raised an eyebrow at that and gave him a look that told him to continue.

  “I think they wanted me dead.”

  “Why didn’t they just knock you over the head with something in the city and put you in the bay?”

  “I think they were afraid that my spirit might come back and implicate them,” said Jude in a pressed voice, feeling a bit uncomfortable talking with the minister about this subject.

  “And you work as?” asked Gerald, raising his eyebrow again.

  “I’m a forensic mage and detective,” said Jude with a tight smile. “I communicate with the dead in order to solve crimes. I guess they figured I was not someone they wanted to mess with, that my spirit might cause problems for them.”

  “So they dumped you alive out in the desert, and hoped it would take care of you,” said Gerald with a frown. “Nice damned people. May the Good God damn them.”

  “I noticed you cuss a bit more than I would expect from a preacher,” said Jude with a slight smile.

  “With the way the world is going to hell,” said Stranger with a laugh. “I’m sure the Good God forgives my little transgressions. He’s got bigger things to worry about. But you still haven’t answered the big question. Why did those men want to end you?”

  “Because I found out something their boss didn’t want the world to know,” said Jude, the images of the sacrifices running through his head. The innocents sacrificed to feed the power grid of the city.

  Jude sat on the couch, tears rolling down his cheeks, telling Sarah’s father about what he had found in the Daemon Corporation building. The minister’s face went cold, then heated with anger as he heard about the sacrifices, the way Daemon Corp was gathering life force to feed the magical net that was keeping the civilized world alive. His wife came out to announce dinner, then stayed to hear the last of the tale, until tears ran down her own cheeks.

  “We should eat now,” said Gerald Stranger, his eyes showing his concern for the guest who had been through so much in the last twenty-four hours. “I know you probably don’t feel like food right now. Neither do I. But we have to fuel the body, so we can do what the Good God needs of us.”

  “I’m still not sure of this God thing,” said Jude, getting up and following the minister and his wife to the dining room. The table was set with a roast, potatoes, fresh vegetables and bread hot from the oven. His stomach started to rumble, and he knew he was hungry enough to eat through his emotions.

  “You’ve seen the evidence in this valley,” said Marlene, sitting in her chair and passing the meat to her husband. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “No ma’am,” said Jude, shaking his head as he buttered some bread. “I’ve seen too much of the shit this world is going through to let one idyllic valley sway me too much.”

  The couple went silent at that, and the three ate in silence for the ten minutes it took to fill their stomachs. Jude almost jumped as something rubbed against his leg. He looked under the table to see a small tuxedo cat looking up at him, her mouth making a silent meow. He reached down and petted the cat, then picked her up and set her in his lap.

  “Sadie,” said Marlene in a scolding voice. “Don’t you bother the nice man during dinner. You know better than that.”

  She knows how to get a handout, thought Jude as he stroked the soft fur, eliciting a deep purr. Just like Santana. As that thought hit him the tears began to flow and he found himself breaking down while stroking the cat, which pushed her head into him.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Marlene, reaching over to put her hand on his arm.

  “I lost my cat,” said Jude through a sob. “I lost the cat that was the world to my late wife.”

  He looked up at the couple and gave them a slight smile through the cryi
ng.

  “It was just a cat,” he finally said as he choked back the sobs. “Just a stupid cat.”

  “Not if it was your cat,” said Gerald Stranger, sliding his chair over and putting a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Not if it symbolized an even greater loss.”

  Jude nodded as he straightened himself out, quieting the sobs. He looked over at Gerald Stranger, then to Marlene, with a smile of thanks. He knew these were caring people, whether he believed in their God or not.

  “I want to get those bastards,” said Jude, his eyes narrowing as he looked Gerald in the face. “If it’s the last thing I ever do. Can you and your Church help me?”

  “Let’s go on down to the church,” said Gerald, standing up and putting an arm around his wife as she stood. “There are some people there who I’d like you to talk to.”

  Jude nodded his head as he picked the cat up from his lap and put her gently on the floor. The small beast looked up at him and meowed again. He smiled down at it, memories of Santana flooding his mind. He felt the anger rise in him and looked up at Gerald. I’m going to get you bastards, he thought again.

  “Let’s go meet these people,” said Jude, turning away from the table.

  * * *

  The meeting hall was a long building behind the church. Jude had been somewhat anxious walking to the building, especially when they had left the road and walked through the churchyard to the hall. That yard had been dark, with some deep shadows, and the habits of a lifetime were not broken in a night. Especially when those habits might come in handy again in the very near future.

  There were about fifty men and women gathered in the hall, sitting at long tables that ran the length of the large meeting room. The hand symbol of the Church of God Ascendant dominated the wall behind the table Jude sat at, the one on the raised end where speakers were set slightly above the people they were delivering a talk to. Gerald had introduced Jude to the members and let him tell his own story. It took him about an hour to run down the abbreviated details. He could see the concern turn to disbelief turn to anger on the faces looking at him. When he finished, the people sat there for a few minutes in silence. Jude thought they must be trying to digest what he had told them. There was probably still some disbelief, though he was sure that most of the people had taken the story at face value. Finally a hand shot up and Gerald pointed at the owner.

  “Do these creatures have souls?” asked the man, a large fellow with red hair. “I mean, are they the Good God’s children?”

  “They’re intelligent beings,” said Jude, glaring at the man, the question angering him. “They are taken from their world and brought here to die. They’re frightened, and members of our race slaughter them as if they were cattle. But I don’t know if they have souls in the respect that you mean. I don’t even know if we have souls.”

  The voices began to rise at that last statement, and Gerald Stranger stood up and raised his hands.

  “Our guest is not of our Church. He may not hold to all our beliefs. But I think that he is a good man, wanting to do the right thing. And these creatures are being killed by evil men wanting to preserve the ways that have sapped the life from our planet. Now I think we need to listen to him, and help him in whatever way we can.”

  More murmuring, as the people talked among themselves. Stranger let them talk for a moment, then pointed at another man who had raised a hand.

  “I’m Kevin Holloway, Mr. Parkinson,” said the man, looking directly at Jude. “What do you plan to do next? And how can we help you?”

  “I need to get physical evidence,” said Jude, looking around the hall, meeting as many eyes as he could. “Which means I need to get back to the city so I can get into the Daemon Corp building again. And I need weapons to replace what I no longer have.”

  “And what will you do with these weapons?” asked a heavyset woman near the back. “I don’t think we want to aid you in getting revenge against the people who tried to kill you.”

  “I will only use them to defend myself if needed,” said Jude, trying to make the lie sound reasoned. “And I could use the help of your brethren in the city to hide me, give me shelter, and maybe help me to get into the building.”

  “We have some sympathizers that work for Daemon,” said Gerald, looking over at Jude. “It might be risky to use them, but this seems like a worthwhile task.”

  Stranger looked out over the group, who Jude understood were the elected representatives of the thousand or so people who lived in this valley.

  “I think we should help this young man,” said the minister, who led the congregation of the mission. “I think that the Good God abhors what is going on in this world, and this new abomination must anger him greatly. How can we call ourselves the Good God’s children if we allow other men to perpetrate a crime like this?”

  There was more murmuring, and then Kevin Holloway stood up at his seat. “I agree, Reverend Stranger. I think we should lend our aid to this man. What say the rest of you?”

  There was an overwhelming chorus of ayes, drowning out the few nays. Stranger slapped Jude on the back and gave him a smile.

  “We’ll get you on your way in the morning,” said the minister, smiling. “You can sleep in my house tonight, then we’ll see you to the city.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Steiner Stark stepped out of the portal, his left foot striking the soft ground cover on the other side. He looked up into the sky, the orange tinted sun again telling him that he was on another world. Another man followed him out of the portal, then another. He glanced to right and left where other portals were disgorging other men, all with stun rods at the ready. Ahead stood the low buildings of the Eldritch settlement, stretching as far as he could see. This was no farming village, with several hundred inhabitants. He didn’t think it was even a regional capital. No, this was a big city, one that might take months to harvest completely. Stark was sure that some of the creatures would flee to safer climes once they figured what was going on. Just delaying the inevitable, as far as he was concerned.

  Stark looked behind, seeing more of the two to four story buildings stretching out among the woods. We’re in a park in the middle of the city, thought Stark with a frown. He reminded himself to have a talk with the farseers on the other side of the portal, the ones who had chosen the location of their entrance. It probably wouldn’t matter much against these little creatures. But in the future, when they were harvesting worlds with more aggressive inhabitants, it might make the difference between survival and destruction.

  “Let’s move out and gather them up,” he yelled to the fifty-three other men who had come out of the portals and were gathered in the park. “Remember that we want them alive. A dead codger means nothing to the company.”

  The other men, all dressed in the same camouflaged fatigues as Stark, with similar helmets on their heads and stun rods in their hands, started walking toward the city, Stark in the lead. All carried holstered pistols on their belts, and about a third of the men had rifles or shotguns slung over their shoulders. So far the natives had not offered any kind of violent opposition. Stark had ordered at least minimal armament, thinking it was not worth taking the chance that there might be some resistance in the future.

  The first of the little blue skinned people came into view. They started as they saw the humans, then began running for the city, sending out a weird hooting that carried for quite a distance. Stark ran after them, his men fanning out and striding with their longer legs to catch the short creatures before they could reach the buildings. Stark struck out with his stun rod, hitting a male between the shoulder blades. The creature cried out, flinging its arms into the air and falling to the ground, to lie shuddering on the turf. Stark ran on, letting one of the men on the roundup and secure squad wrap up the downed creatures and get them ready to herd back through the gates.

  A female clutching a baby was next to fall, the stun rod sending the shock through the mother’s body into the infant. The mom fell on top of
the baby, most likely killing it. Stark didn’t have time to worry about small morsels like the baby when there were plenty of adults to take.

  Stark ran through the last stand of trees and entered one of the streets of the city. Here were scores of the creatures, staring at him in disbelief, stopping whatever tasks they had been about. Most were afoot. Some were on a blue-green riding beast that looked a lot like a pony, and there were several wagons pulled by the same kind of creature.

  Stark let out a yell and charged down the street, knocking creatures down on all sides. Some dodged him. Of these he still hit some, missing others who ducked into alleyways and houses on the street. He didn’t think that would matter today. There were plenty of targets, and the harvest today would be great. The Lieutenant moved down the street, coming to a T intersection and trending to the right, where the road opened up onto a large square.

  Stark pulled to a stop as he looked across that square at a building, though of the same rounded architecture as the rest of the Eldritch buildings, that could only be either a Cathedral or a palace. Whichever it was, it was sure to be the seat of someone high in this society, and therefore someone of value to these people. He waved to a dozen of the men following him and pointed at the structure, then walked into the square and headed toward it. The little blue people ran over each other trying to get away, and Stark and his men knocked them down by the scores. Stark was starting to wonder if they might just call off future visits to this city for a couple of weeks, so great would be the numbers gathered from this day’s harvest. Just as that thought crossed his mind the hooting sounds increased to his front, and the little blue people started running across the length of his line, probably trying to get out of the way of whatever was coming this way from the palace.