Lilith: A Snake in The Grass

by Jack L. Chalker

  Even in my statistically small sample, then, the women were numerically superior to the men. Perhaps Pohn had more reason to confine his experiments to young women than just perversion.

  I looked around again at these—witches. Dismiss the religious cultism, the “savage” label, all the rest, and reduce it to what was known. Their chief was one who had the power in spades—Bronz had said she might be in Kreegan’s class had she had training, but as I knew only too well, such power even untrained can be enormous if emotionally aroused, and hate was one of the best emotions for that sort of thing. Sumiko. O’Higgins hated Zeis, if only for the principle of the thing—Zeis had Pohn, and Pohn had done a number on Ti, a woman.

  These others … Even though most looked like pawns, were they? There was something here I was missing, unless Satan, Prince of Darkness, really had something here. Something had kept this tempting target for Keeps all around safe and secure—so secure O’Higgins dared bring her most powerful personnel to collect us.

  It was getting close to dawn, and I was becoming more and more nervous. O’Higgins and Father Bronz had been at it all night, making plans of some kind or another—an odd couple if there ever was one, I decided—and finally the priest emerged from a hut and came over to me. “You look lousy,” he said.

  “You don’t look so bright and eager either,” I responded glumly. “But how’d you expect me to sleep through something like this?”

  He sat down wearily. “I need some strong tea to wake me up,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “She’s really got something here. I have to hand it to her. I don’t know if it’ll work or not, but if it does, it’s almost revolutionary. No, it is revolutionary.”

  I stared at him. “Give. What are you talking about?”

  “You remember our talks on the balance on Lilith? Well, she seems to have something that upsets that balance, at least a little.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You see these women? All virgins, believe it or not, at least with men. All exhibited strong wild talents at puberty, although most subsided to pawn status, as •per normal, after a few months to a year.”

  “You can’t tell me O’Higgins is a virgin,” I commented.

  He chuckled. “Hard to say. I doubt if she’s ever been to bed with a man, if that’s what you mean, and that’s all that seems to count in this business. There may be something to the old legend of virgins having more power in magical things—in a purely biological sense, Lilith style, I mean. Perhaps some very tiny chemical changes were not introduced. I don’t know. But Sumiko got this idea, after combing the savages of the wild, that it was so. She may be crazy but she’s not stupid. She was once a pretty good biochemist Outside, so don’t sell her short no matter what her crazy beliefs now. At any rate, when she got sent to Lilith she didn’t stay a pawn very long. Hot-blooded. Got so damned mad she not only fried her supervisor but stalked angrily out of a Keep to the west of here, glowing, it’s said, like a firecracker from the Warden power, injuring or killing anybody who even tried to get in her way.”

  “None of that catalyst?” I responded unbelievingly.

  He shook his head. “None. Now you see what I mean. She was in the wild for a while before she even found out about the stuff. She wasn’t just a biochemist, Cal—she was a botanist. It took her months, but she found out what the catalyst was and worked out her own methods for distilling it. How she did it without tools, without a lab, and without even the facilities of a Keep we’ll never know—sheer guts and willpower, I’d say. Cal, I don’t know what she’s come up with, but it isn’t quite the nice, pure stuff you and I got, so it isn’t as effective, but it works. She recruited all these women when they were very young, just for their wild-talent potential—and, I suspect, their sexual orientation. For short periods of time—I don’t know duration—she can dose every woman here with the stuff. Awaken all their old wild talents. Use the cult beliefs and discipline to shape and direct them.” He sighed. “You know, in an hour or two I think old Artur may be in for a big surprise.”

  I thought about what he said and it gave me some immediate hope, but the more I thought about it the more I realized its long-term implications.

  Pawns were hardly celibate—Ti, for example, would never make a witch for this group—but if O’Higgins really did have this stuff it was the equivalent of a fusion bomb to Lilith.

  “Bronz, how many women does she have here?”

  He was resting, and for a moment I thought he was asleep. But one eye opened. “Thirteen times thirteen. What did you expect?”

  One hundred and sixty-nine women, I thought. All handpicked by somebody who knew exactly what she was doing and what she was looking for. All with demonstrated wild talents of major proportions, and with a little chemical aid to awaken those locked-away powers; all fiercely loyal to their leader and mother figure.

  “She hasn’t got a Satanist nut cult here,” I said aloud, “she’s got the kernel of a revolutionary army.”

  “So it took you that long to figure all that out?” Father Bronz muttered sleepily:

  The facts weren’t all that reassuring. I really wasn’t quite sure if I’d like a world fashioned by Sumiko O’Higgins as well as I liked the one run by Marek Kreegan. I wondered idly what the witch-queen’s offense had been to have her sent here. Nothing pleasant, that was for sure.

  As the sun rose the entire company of witches went through what appeared to be a solemn ceremony that involved, as far as I could see, cursing the sun for rising and spoiling the lovely night and asking for Satan’s aid in the coming fight. In the center area, over the restoked fire, a giant gourd caldron bubbled and hissed.

  After morning “prayers,” each and every one of the women approached the caldron and, with an incantation, drank the hot, foul-smelling liquid from a crudely fashioned dipper. I felt helpless in the coming fight and wished for some of that ‘brew, but Bronz would have none of it.

  “Sumiko says the stuff would play hell with your nervous system,” he told me. “I’m not sure I believe it, but we’re the guests here. You just stay back and watch what happens—and keep out of the way. They’ll have spears, poison darts, blowguns, bows and arrows, and even crossbows. Your duty is to stay down and out of the way. If you get killed, then all this will have been for nothing.”

  I started to argue, but his logic was unassailable. I went to Ti’s hut, now emptied of its other occupants, and looked down at her.

  She moaned, turned over, and opened her eyes, seeing me. “Hi,” she muttered weakly.

  “Hi, yourself,” I responded, not bothering to hide my big grin. “You know where you are?”

  She groaned and tried to sit up, failed the first time, then managed it. “Sort of,” she told me. “It was— kinda like a crazy dream. I was sound asleep, and I knew I was sound asleep, but I could hear stuff when there was stuff to hear and see stuff when my eyes were open. It was all dreamy like, though, not real.” She hesitated a second, looking puzzled and serious. “But it was real, wasn’t it, Cal? All of it? That creepy doctor, that horrible room, you rescuing me, Father Bronz, witches—they really are witches, aren’t they, Cal?”

  I nodded. “Sort of. At least they think they are.”

  She stared at me with the kind of expression I had never seen anyone give me before. “You could’ve got out real easy, but you took me,” she whispered, low and almost to herself. Her voice broke slightly and she said, “Oh, Cal, hold me! Hug me! Please!”

  I went to her and gently squeezed, but she grabbed on to me and hugged and kissed me as hard and strong as she could. Finally she gasped and I saw tears in her eyes. “I love you, Cal,” she almost sobbed, and hugged me again.

  I looked at her strangely for a moment, not quite comprehending her actions nor my reactions. “I—I love you top, my little Ti,” I replied, then held her close and hugged her, a sense of wonder and amazement coming over me at the realization that, incredibly, what I’d just said was true.


  The village seemed deserted. I could see only the smoking remains of the fire and an empty gourd-pot. Not a sign of life, although all around I could hear the ever-present insect chorus.

  And then the sound stopped.

  It was eerie, incredible. For a moment I thought I had gone deaf, so absolute was the silence in contrast with what I was used to. Not a sound, not a whisper. Even the wind had stopped.

  Suddenly, from all around came the sound of incredibly loud, piercing screeches, and a sudden wind whipped the trees from all over. I remained in the hut, conscious that I could do no more, but I was damned well going to see what I could see. Ti, although still very weak, was equally determined once the situation was explained to her, and when I objected to her nearness to the doorway she objected to my being too exposed. I surrendered and we both watched, cautiously.

  The besils rose effortlessly from cover a hundred meters or so from the witch village. Although I couldn’t see anything in back of me, I was aware from how they were deployed that they must have the place encircled.

  I marveled at how the creatures seemed to rise incredibly smoothly as if on some invisible hoist, then hover there, nearly motionless, about twenty meters up, just beyond the treetops.

  One besil glided slowly out of the formation and approached the center of the village, almost over the caldron, then descended to a point only four or five meters above the ground. I was marveling at how effortlessly the creature moved, but then the rider drew my attention.

  “Artur,” I heard Ti gasp. And in fact it was the Sergeant at Arms of Zeis Keep, his icy power radiating like a living thing.

  “Witches!” he shouted gruffly. “I wish to speak with your leader! We have no need to do battle here today!”

  Suddenly, as if popping up from nowhere, Sumiko O’Higgins stood there in full robes and regalia, facing him. I had no idea how she got there without being seen.

  “Speak, armsman!” she called back. “Speak and begone! You have no right or business here!”

  Artur laughed evilly, although I could tell he was slightly disconcerted by her sudden appearance and defiant tone. “Right? Might makes right, madam, as well you know. You and your colony exist here at the sufferance of the Grand Duke because you do us occasional service, but it is for that reason alone that I might spare you. You err, too, madam, in saying I have no business here. No less than my Lord Marek Kreegan has charged me to return with Cal Tremon, the fugitive who is now in your charge. Surrender him to me and we will depart in peace. All will be as it has been.”

  “Just Tremon? You don’t wish the girl as well?” the witch queen responded, and I had a sudden queasy feeling that she was striking a deal to her liking but definitely not to mine.

  Artur laughed again. “Keep the girl if you wish,” he responded airily. “We will even make certain she is fully restored. It is Tremon we must have, and it is Tremon we will have.”

  “I don’t like your tone, armsman,” O’Higgins responded. “You are so used to wielding absolute power that your arrogance will be your undoing. We do not exist here at the sufferance of Grand Duke Kobé or anyone else. Marek Kreegan is your Lord, but mine is Satan Mafkrieg, Prince of Darkness, King of the Underworld, and no other.”

  He ignored the commentary, but I heard Ti mutter under her breath, “Atta girl, witchie! Give him a taste of his own big mouth!”

  Artur shrugged, looking very formidable and splendid on his great black beast. “I take it, then, that you will not voluntarily surrender the fugitive?”

  “I have no love for him,” the witch responded, “but I have far less for you and your masters. If you attack, you will be utterly and completely destroyed. The choice is yours.”

  Artur just glared at her a moment. Then with an almost imperceptible nudge of the big man’s foot, the besil floated back to its place in the waiting formation. Sumiko O’Higgins just stood there, and while I marveled at her courage I thought she had acted in a pretty stupid fashion, all things considered.

  Suddenly, as mysteriously as Sumiko had appeared, the rest of the witches were all there, spread out in an almost unbroken circle around the perimeter of the village, facing outward toward the attackers. None appeared to have any weapons.

  Artur gave a hand gesture, and the two besils on either side of him glided forward, their riders aiming pretty nasty-looking fixed crossbows, like artillery pieces, mounted in front of them on their saddles. All four, by their positioning, fixed on Sumiko O’Higgins as they closed in, then fired almost in unison, the arrows flying with enormous force toward the black-garbed figure below.

  I started to cry out, but instantly the witch queen waved her hand idly and all four arrows landed in the grass, neatly framing her. Then suddenly every third or fourth woman in the long human circle turned inward, and O’Higgins gestured again with her right arm at the four soldiers.

  What followed was incredible. Although the men were bound in by thick, secure straps, they were hurled from their saddles as if plucked by a giant hand, then dashed to the ground below with a force far in excess of gravity. None of them moved.

  Artur roared in anger, and the other soldiers closed in and started letting loose their terrible arsenal— spears, arrows, and all sorts of other stuff rapidly flew back and forth across the field—taking point-blank aim at the circle of women. An incredible hail of lethal stuff rained down upon the witches.

  It all missed.

  Now Sumiko was gesturing again, making some sort of symbol with her hands. Besils screamed, and several dropped out of the sky like stones, crashing to earth and taking their riders with them.

  I was beginning to admit that the woman had something here.

  Artur was fit to be tied, of course, but he gestured for his troops to regroup. It had occurred to him, as it had to me, that nothing nasty happened to you unless you broke that circle of human bodies, and he was reorganizing to meet that fact.

  “Fire at the circle from the outside!” I heard him yell. “Knock ‘em down!”

  Now all the witches were turned outward once again, and Sumiko O’Higgins moved to the center of the open space, practically atop the altar or whatever it was. She shouted a single command and all the women turned inward, facing her, fixing their gazes upon her. I was puzzled but a lot less worried. Artur, I thought, was learning even more than I was today.

  “Oh, Satan, King of All!” she shouted, and seemed to assume that trancelike state once more. “Mass thy power in thy servant’s hands, that these unbelievers be brought to heel!”

  Artur’s troops formed a circle outside the witches’ circle and prepared to let loose again. I braced for whatever would happen and watched as the witch-queen’s head suddenly shot skyward, eyes open but still in some sort of hypnotic state; her arms were outstretched, as if they were weapons armed at the besils. She started to turn now, opposite the circling beasts and soldiers, and while I could see nothing, heat began crackling around that flying circle, the kind of odd internal fire I’d seen once before, when Kronlon had fried. I looked briefly at the circle of women and saw their equally hypnotic gaze resting entirely on their leader.

  “They’re transmitting through her!” I gasped. “They’re channeling their fear and hatred into O’Higgins!”

  A number of missiles from the enemy were loosed and some reached their targets. A few women were struck and fell, bleeding, unconscious, or perhaps dead, but the rest never wavered, never even looked at their fallen sisters. The concentration was absolute.

  One by one, as her invisible touch reached them, the soldiers of Zeis Keep were fried to dust in their saddles, or in some cases knocked completely out of the air. I saw that Artur himself had fallen back and was now shouting for the others to break rank and join him. It was all of three or four minutes since the attack had started, and less than half of his company remained.

  “All right, witch!” he shouted. “As I said, might is all, and right now it is on your side! But when word of this reaches the Keeps, the force raise
d against you will be more powerful than this world has ever known! Enjoy your victory—for what it is worth!” And with that he was gone.

  The witch-queen’s arms came down and made another sign; then the spell or whatever was broken.

  Women staggered, some fell, and others now bent down to attend to their fallen comrades.

  O’Higgins snapped out of her trance in an instant and was all command. “See to the wounded!” she shouted. “I want a fatality count as quick as possible!” She turned and stalked over toward the hut in which Ti and I were hidden.

  “Wow!” Ti breathed. “I never saw or heard anything like that before.” She giggled. “That look on Artur’s face was worth all of it, too! Many’s the pawn at Zeis would’ve given his life to see this whippin’!”

  “Don’t sell him short,” I told her. “He’s lost a battle, not a war. He came up against a weapon he didn’t know existed and he paid the price, but he’s not licked by any means. He wasn’t kidding when he threatened to come back with a super-army. They have to stamp out power like this or they’ll never sleep easy again in their castles.”

  I saw Father Bronz emerge from a nearby hut looking suitably impressed. He and Sumiko O’Higgins quickly joined us in the hut.

  “How many did you get?” she asked the priest.

  “Six, maybe,” he responded. “The rest had to be destroyed. Is it enough?”

  “Hardly,” she snapped. “But it’ll have to do.”

  “Don’t blame me,” he retorted. “You shot ‘em down. All I did was pick ‘em back up.”