The Church of the Transhuman

by Joe Plus

  Chapter 40

  John awoke puffy eyed, groggy and pleasantly warm. A fire crackled, its light giving the domed room a red hue. Wood smoke wafted into his nostrils and he sneezed.

  “Bless you,” said Tele.

  John sat up, the wolves were pushed up against his stomach and legs. He was on a bed of leaves and straw and he was wrapped in his poncho-fur. Close by he saw the outline of the bear. He sneezed again and heard a yelp.

  “Watch the elbows old boy,” said Gideon.

  John leaned back onto something, a hard pillow. He could feel something sharp in it. He rummaged around and recognized the cover of his pillow to be his jacket. It had been wrapped over his shoes and other clothing, which in turn covered what felt like sticks. He lifted the pillow and the hollow click-clack sound of femurs and jaws startled him. A glimpse of shiny teeth brought out an involuntary what the fuck. There was a rustling by the fire and John saw a person crouching and prodding the burning logs.

  “Want some soup?”

  It was the voice of an old woman. John recalled the horrors of the feast.

  “No thanks,” he said.

  “Well, you must eat something. You were unwell. Haven’t seen it before,” she said.

  “It was hypothermia,” said Gideon while yawning, “and you have slept for a day and a half.”

  John sat up startled and looked about.

  “A day and a half? Why didn’t you wake me? Wait a minute, this is still that fucked up dream – Alice in fucked-up wonderland,” he said.

  “Did you dream in this dream, while you were sleeping?” said Tele.

  John frowned deeply and tried to recall if he had.

  “As a matter of fact I did dream, I dreamed a number of things. Apart from a lot of Neanderthals singing, falling asleep in a cave, and witnessing some poor bastard being murdered and eaten, yeah sure, I had a dream in this dream, and in my dream’s dream I flew up to the moon.”

  “Oh really? You lucky thing,” said the old woman. He only saw her back, her face remaining fixed on the fire, “what did she say to you?”

  “She? Well yeah, there was a woman in the center of, this is a bit nuts and, yeah, hard to explain,” he said,

  “Go on, tell us. We know you’re odd, but tell us anyway,” said Tele.

  “Ignore them,” said Nelli, “I want to know. Tell me.”

  Nelli was lying against John’s left hip. She raised her muzzle and placed it on his belly.

  “Well,” John continued, “I shot straight up into the sky, like a rocket, and after a minute or so of space travel I went right through the Moon’s crust.”

  “As you do,” said Tele.

  “I shot through dust and rock and entered a large spherical cavern, and I mean large, bigger than the Vatican,”

  “Vatican?” said the old woman.

  “Inside was a gigantic spider’s web, lines connecting from the center to points defining a circle around the hollow cavern. I floated up to the center of the web, and in its center sat a good looking woman, if it wasn’t for her eight eyes and eight limbs.”

  “Hmm, eight eyes, eight limbs, a beauty,” said Tele.

  “Shhh,” said the old woman, “and please whisper. Do not mention her; she might see us.”

  “Was she sitting, standing, lying, or hanging by her thread?” said Tele.

  “Yeah, she was sitting, in a small boat - a kind of longboat - and she had a spinning wheel in it,” he said.

  “Makes perfect sense,” said Tele.

  John continued: “and so I asked her what she could catch all the way up here.”

  “And she replied?” said Nelli.

  “She said, oh, something about catching her one true love, or whatever.”

  John looked at Nelli and then the old woman.

  “Is that it?” asked Tele.

  “Well, there’s more,” said John.

  “Well I don’t want to hear it. Thanks for waking me up for nothing,” said Tele, and he turned his head down into his paws, muttering: “There's bugger all more boring than listening to other people recount their idiotic dreams.”

  What's the use of recounting the rest, thought John, when all I get are sarcastic remarks from a bear?

  “Very puzzling,” said the old woman, “that you, a male, have received such knowledge. Please be careful whom you tell. Tell no one else.”

  “Don't worry about that grumpy teddy bear,” said Nelli, “he's really just a sweetie pie. I for one think you had a lovely dream.”

  “Thanks,” said John.

  He lay back and went through his dream. The Goddess had been spinning a silver thread, and she had lowered it downward - a thick shiny cable cutting through Earth's white clouds.

  John quickly fell back into sleep, and awoke after half an hour or so, warm and uncovered. Tele was sleeping deeply and the wolves were nowhere to be seen. He could hear scratching and yelping and decided there was no point lying around in a poorly lit, stuffy, smoke filled room. Gently, so not to wake Tele, he stood up and dressed himself. The old woman was sitting by the fire making soup.

  “You should have some,” she said.

  “I don't eat meat. Not anymore.”

  “Oh, there's no flesh in this soup. Only vegetables and a few bird bones.”

  “Bird bones?”

  “Yes, a bone or two. It's good for the cold. Some mushrooms, some herbs, some berries.”

  “Well, I will have a little then.”

  The woman took a small wooden bowl and filled it from the pot and handed it over. John drank it carefully; it was hot and delicious; salty and flavored with mushroom; just what he needed. He looked at the small, bent over woman. She had a hood over her head and her face was not visible.

  “Lovely, that was good,” he said.

  “Very easy to make,” she said, “just bones, some vegetables, a small egg, some blood, some royal jelly, some…”

  John coughed.

  “Blood, you said, blood?”

  “Yes, from a rabbit.”

  Relieved, John relaxed and thanked her. She gave him another bowl and he drank that too. The scratching and yelping continued in the passage.

  “Wolves. Tsk, tsk,” she said.

  John stood and looked around for his fur. Tele had taken it and drawn it over his face. John carefully prized it from his paws.

  “Careful,” she said, “he’s very dangerous.”

  “I know.”

  He wrapped the fur around his shoulders and walked out of the room into the spiral tunnel. Approaching the entrance he saw an odd silhouette and the source of the scratching and yelping. Gideon and Nelli were frantically copulating. John was taken aback, first by the sight of the two wolves having sex, and then by his own conflicted feelings.

  “Come on, push back harder,” said Gideon panting.

  “This is all you’re going to get. Be thankful, no one would touch you as a human,” said Nelli.

  “Wow, here I come,” grunted Gideon, “uuunnnth, give me puppies.”

  “I’ll give you something to remember that’s for sure,” she said, and she turned her muzzle and snapped at Gideon’s left ear, tugging at it wildly.”

  “Owowow,” said Gideon.

  “Can’t get away now can you, knotted up to your balls,” she said through clenched teeth. “What are you looking at?” she barked.

  John stood frozen by the tunnel entrance.

  “Hey, look I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Well, don’t stare. I don’t like it when people stare.”

  John quickly marched past them, through the entrance and out on to the top of the hill. Annoyed with himself he walked over to the tree and stood over the pile of bones where ravens pecked over them. Still he could hear the wolves yelping. He had seen a good deal of sex in his time, and had screwed many angels and many interns, yet after what seemed like an endless number of CoT+ orgies he had grown weary of sex. So why was he feeling jealous? He looked up at the Sun and judged from its position that it
was around midday. The sky was a cloudless light cobalt blue, and the wind bitterly cold. He looked around the empty hilltop. He thought he could hear voices but he could not locate the source. He walked around the perimeter of the flat top and looked over the edge. He wished he had his sunglasses since the glare of the white chalk was blindingly intense. Surveying the plain below he saw small moving dots by stone pillars. The dots had a familiar, bovine shape, but the thought of Neanderthals farming herd animals felt intuitively wrong. He looked east toward a mountain range that he guessed to be twenty or thirty kilometers away. It continued eastward in fading blue layers, and extended from far south and northward beyond the horizon.

  He heard a loud caw coming from behind and turned to the tree to see ravens in its bare branches sitting like burnt fruit. John walked over to the altar, its roughly hewn surfaces of coiled channels holding coagulated blood. Under his feet black ash from the sacrificial fire stained a large patch of ground. He looked at the tree and was surprised to see a few rib bones still hanging from the trunk. Also strewn around the base were the hipbones, a femur, and some spinal column. The skull was nowhere to be seen. The trunk of the old Oak tree looming above the black and bloodied chalk like a ghastly cancerous tumor tearing its way through white flesh, ripping out internal organs and bone.

  “Gross,” he said.

  “I suppose it is,” came a voice.

  John stood and stared at the intimidating flock that looked down on him, their unkind eyes, large black nebs and oily feathers raised the hairs on his head. Before he could comment he heard the shuffling and panting of the two wolves, still knotted together. Gideon looked uncomfortable stuck behind and running on his hind legs.

  “Can’t get him off me,” she said.

  “Wish you would just stand still. It’s painful getting tugged around like this,” said Gideon.

  “They’re always at it,” said a morose raven, its feathers fluffed out.

  “Oh be quiet Jimmy,” said Nelli.

  John concluded that the raven that spoke was none other than Jimmy White, and he was sitting on a branch closest to the altar. After some greetings John determined that only three of the Ravens could actually talk. The other two talkers were Mr. and Mrs. Wax.

  “Nice to meet you again John. You are so lucky – to stay in this realm of spirit, just as you are, and not some other form,” said Mr. Wax.

  “Like a raven, for example,” said Jimmy.

  “Stop moaning,” said Nelli.

  “It’s lovely to have a bit of sun,” said Mrs. Wax, “it’s a pity about the cold breeze.”

  “Yes, it is rather chilly,” said Mr. Wax.

  “And so nice to see Nelli and Gideon having so much fun together, it really is a joy to behold,” said Mrs. Wax.

  “Well, at least we don’t enjoy eating shit and carrion,” said Nelli.

  “What?” said Mrs. Wax, “of course you do. You’re dogs.”

  “Wolves,” said Nelli.

  “A pungent carcass is not be missed,” said Mr. Wax.

  “Well said,” said Jimmy.

  Jimmy puffed out his feathers and glared at the wolves.

  John, engrossed in the sight of talking ravens did not notice the sound of shouting from below. Jimmy cawed loudly, flew up into the air and darted down the hilltop out of sight. John ran after Jimmy to the edge of the hilltop, the knotted wolves shuffling up the rear. Jimmy descended to a point a few hundred yards from the hilltop, where there appeared to be a crowd of fifty or so people. A raven hopped by John’s feet.

  “They’re back, and they are taking some of the children.” It was Mrs. Wax.

  “Who’s back?” said John.

  “People from the hills,” she said, and she rose to the air, the the other ravans following. “They are bandits, criminals, land grabbers, rapists. We must fight them off and retrieve the women and children.”

  “Come on, let’s go down and join the fight,” said Gideon, finally unknotting from Nelli.

  The wolves raced across the hilltop and down the spiral path. A sense of dread filled John. Should he not keep out of the way? Hide in the warm hole with the old soup woman? Without further reflection he ran after the wolves as fast as he could. Being very unfit he struggled to run the distance and, to catch his breath, had to reduce pace to a fast walk for part of the way. He ran again, wheezing a few hundred paces around the perimeter until he saw in the distance a number of Neanderthals, a dozen or so, thrusting thick shafted spears toward thirty or so men armed with much thinner spears, and what looked like slings. John instinctively ran toward the skirmish when he was suddenly pushed from behind into the soft earth.

  “And where do you think you’re going?” said Tele rolling by, a brown boulder ordained for grievous harm. John got up and paused, then continued to run on toward the defenders. He watched Tele leap forward and with one tug tear off an attacker’s face. The other men, momentarily surprised, continued to fight the Neanderthals, and Tele nimbly sidestepped all missiles until he took two men at once, tearing with his paw on the chest of one and biting the neck of the other. The ravens dropped sharp stones causing bloody gashes and much frustration. The men retaliated and cast spears and slung stones into the sky – which the ravens easily avoided. John stood next to a short Neanderthal who held a thick, dark pole around two meters in length. A small stone struck him in the face and he collapsed to the ground. Another stone whizzed past John’s ear. He picked up the fallen Neanderthal’s heavy pole and struggled with it. One would expect to see farmers smashing such a pole into the ground when erecting a fence. Compared with the lighter weapons of the invaders, it was useless.

  “How do I throw this?” he said.

  “You don’t throw, you must drive,” called out Mr. Wax. Immediately John understood that he was on the losing side of the battle. Though they were few, the enemy wielded weapons that were lighter and sharper. These men were not Neanderthals; they were slight, limber and fast. Another Neanderthal went down, this time an arrow through the eye. Then John remembered his Z88. Did he have it with him? He could feel the bulge in the right of his jacket; it was still there, a kilogram and a quarter of metal and powder, fifteen rounds loaded. He calmly undid the zipper, took out the gun with his left hand, unlocked it, aimed at a man who stood no more than five meters away, and fired. The crack of the shot, the exploding head and the sudden drop of the man stunned the two warring parties. They yelled, let go of the women and girls they were holding and fled back toward the nearby hills. The Neanderthals, with the women and girls fled back to the white hill.

  Jimmy dropped down onto the dead man’s chest and pecked at his remaining eyeball. He turned to John.

  “You brought a gun?” he said.

  “Yes,” said John.

  “Good shot,” said Tele as he tore at a screaming man’s face.

  “John, that was quite a surprise,” it was Nelli, “you could have warned us you had a gun.”

  “After being carried by a bear and two wolves across an ancient landscape, it was the last thing on my mind,” he said.

  “That explains the sore spot on my right shoulder,” said Tele, “damn big thing to hide away. What is it?”

  “An old Denel Z88.”

  “Get a Glock, even with a full magazine it weighs less than that thing empty,” said Tele.

  “Let’s get back,” said Gideon. “Take the bodies with you.”

  John stood failing to conceal the smile on his face. He had saved the day. With a priestess John helped drag back a dead invader. Tele held another invader – still alive and screaming – between his teeth. Neanderthal women carried the rest of the dead.

  “There shall be much mourning for the two young Neanderthal lads. Such a waste,” said Mrs. Wax.

  John overheard Nelli and Gideon whisper - they were in deep conversation, the gist of which was that they would have to explain that John was a special spirit with an unusual power, the power over thunder and lightning.

  “That will be suffic
ient,” said Gideon.

  They slowly climbed to the top of the white hill. John noticed in the distance small groups on their way from a large forest in the North West.

  “They spent the day in the forest to get food and water. When the invaders arrived they remained there to hide,” said Gideon trotting alongside.

  “Who exactly are these invaders? Why are they trying to steal the women?” said John. John put the body down to rest, when he noticed the dead man’s complexion. He slapped his own forehead. Damn.

  “Look,” he said to Gideon, “a boy. I killed a boy. What is he, twelve, thirteen years of age?”

  “Oh, yes, life here is brutal and short,” said Gideon. “As to your first question, the invaders are Homo Sapiens, men who arrived from farther east in the last thousand years or so when the ice began to recede and the region became less inhospitable. As for the reasons for the kidnapping, well, it’s the usual litany of vices: slavery, sex, spoils of war and all that – not to forget land and resources. They like the Neanderthal women, for their strength, for their lack of inhibitions. But there is an another, more valuable gain and that is the Neanderthal knowledge; the magic of the women.”

  “Oh of course, magic. Why didn’t I think of that?” said John.

  John dropped the man to the ground. He would drag him for the last hundred meters. A trail of blood was visible ahead, since Tele paused every hundred meters or so to have a quick bite. John eventually caught up with him.

  “Snacking again?” said John.

  “You would too if you were me,” Tele said while chewing and swallowing.

  John struggled along, his shoulders beginning to ache and the grip of his hands weakening. Tele, the remains of his load slung over his neck, stormed past and continued all the way to the top of the hill, half a dozen cawing ravens in pursuit. Gideon trotted ahead and turned left into the entrance to the hilltop, indicating to John that he follow, so John continued with his burden down the curling passage. Nelli was close behind licking the dripping blood and talking incessantly on the coming celebrations of the resurrection of the Sun and the appointment of a new King, and whether it would be a man from the same region or from farther south this time.