The Perfect Sun

by Brendan Carroll

  Zaguri belched a cloud of stench, smiled at al Sajek, exposing its multiple rows of teeth and then squeezed his eyes shut as if straining very hard. Marduk turned his head away as the missing portion of Zaguri’s anatomy ballooned out from his groin and reached a ridiculously enormous size before subsiding somewhat. The creature laughed and al Sajek felt faint under the horrid noises and smells.

  “You called…. Master?” The voice was surprisingly human, but the tone and inflection dripped with condescension and contempt.

  “I merely wished to make sure you were well, Zaguri,” Marduk matched his tone. “I hadn’t seen your lovely face in so long, I missed you.”

  Zaguri reached out one arm and one blue claw as if to caress his master’s cheek, but stopped short of touching him, the knuckle bones popping and cracking as he wiggled his fingers. Al Sajek forced himself to remain still, not to move, not to be intimidated. Every movement of the horrid mass caused ripples to course through the muscles and fat under the purplish skin and new waves of stench assaulted Marduk’s nose. He stood up in order to get above the questionable midsection of the beast. His magick would be less well grounded standing, but his stomach would not take much more of Zaguri’s magnificence.

  “And I missed you as well, Master. Have you found something for me to destroy? Do you have some bit of information you wish extracted?” Zaguri leaned forward. He still towered over the sorcerer by a foot or more and used his height to his best advantage. Nothing could withstand Zaguri’s methods. No one could hold out against his… ‘interviews’.

  “I have nothing for the moment, my pretty friend.” Al Sajek managed a smile. “I am simply taking stock of my loyal minions. There may be something in the offing.”

  “That is good to hear, Master. Languishing in limbo is not my best first interest and it causes my aromas to fade.” The creature ran a pale green tongue covered with red bumps over his bloodless lips and sharp teeth.

  “I should think you are a bit of a showman, Zaguri.” Marduk narrowed his eyes contemptuously. “I have rarely seen you in better form.”

  “You are pleased with this configuration, Master? I am honored to have found approval in your sight.” Zaguri bowed his head in mock supplication, touching his right hand to his forehead, lips and chest.

  “Your tongue should be split and then ripped out by the roots!” Al Sajek told him harshly. “You dare to mock and lie to me? You know I detest ugliness.”

  “I know you do not like yourself, Master.” The creature backed down slightly. “I find your natural form much more pleasing than this puny bag of flesh and bones you seem to prefer. Do you not remember the great battles we fought and won side by side? I was proud, truly proud to serve you then. What has become of you, Master? Would you become human? You are much too great to succumb to petty vanities. Remember this, Great Marduk Kurios, it is I, and others like myself, who make you great and powerful beyond imagination. It is I, who would serve you when all else would quake and fail in their boots. It is I, who would follow you into the beyond to face the Queen of Chaos herself. Do not be harsh with your true servant. Give me some morsel on which to feed. Have pity on your slave.” This time, he bowed his head in genuine obeisance and backed away.

  “It is good to know you still respect me, Zaguri. It is as I have said. I may find something for you to do very soon. Things that should have been left unmolested have been disturbed. There are disturbances in the deep beyond. I am afraid Yaldabaoth may have been awakened.”

  “Yaldabaoth?” Zaguri’s voice went up several octaves and his yellow eyes grew wide, before twinkling with mischief. “O great Marduk! I beg of you! Allow me to serve you.” He clicked his claws together in excited anticipation.

  “I will consider it. However, the next time I call you, I would like to see you in a more presentable form and above all, do away with the foul stench and your… your… monumental manhood. I am unimpressed.”

  “Yes, Master.” Zaguri bowed again and the stench was gone immediately. “Please, Master, do not send me away without more hope.”

  “I will tell you this, my friend,” al Sajek said and smiled at the creature, “there is one whom I promise you will require your special talents, if what I suspect is true.”

  “If I make myself like unto you, Master, will you allow me to stay by your side?” Zaguri was begging now. “Please, Master.”

  “I will think it over and let you know.” Marduk sat down and put his soles together again. He pressed his fingertips together and prepared to dismiss the powerful demon.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “What is all of this?” Nergal put his hands on his hips and turned around in the middle of Ereshkigal’s boudoir.

  The Boggans were busily carting in stacks of boxes, chests, bags, sacks, canisters, baskets, vases. Virtually every type of container ever known to man and some unknown were strewn about the interior of the golden chamber. Here and there were leather pouches, exquisitely tooled by the Tuathan craftsmen, hollowed out portions of tree trunks intricately carved by the wood elves, and even a few of the green cocoon-like vessels made by the dryads. There were kegs of ale, wine and beer stacked on her bower and bed. Bottles of every assortment, containing all manner of food and drink lined one wall. “Are these olives? From Italy?” The Lord of the Fifth gate leaned over a basket full of crockery jars with wired on lids.

  “Hmmmm?” Ereshkigal looked up from the long piece of parchment she held in her lap. In one hand she held a plumed, black quill pen. A delicate pair of gold-framed reading glasses perched on her long nose.

  “Great stars!” Nergal stared at her. “What are those things? There is nothing wrong with your eyesight. I may question your senses, but not your sight.”

  “Oh,” the queen said and removed the glasses. “I believe these make me appear more… matronly.”

  “Matronly? Why would you want to be matronly? You are a queen. My queen. You are not a matron,” he said as he pulled one of the green glass jars from the basket and pulled up the catch on the lid.

  “I am a grandmother, unless you forget and grandmothers are supposed to be matronly,” she told him authoritatively. “I have studied these things. It is the way of the humans.”

  “The humans,” he snorted and sat down on a wooden crate full of glassware. “Always the humans. You’re not a human. I don’t understand this predilection of everyone to be human. I find them quite fragile.”

  “Well, they are more resilient than you might think.” She moved to sit beside him. “But my guests will not be completely human. They just live like humans and they are used to things human, and so, I intend for my family reunion to be predominantly human.”

  “Ahhh, the reunion.” Nergal plucked several olives from the jar and popped them in his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the salty tang. “Mmmmm. Now this is the only thing human I find appealing. Food. They have become quite adept at preparing the fruits of the earth for the pleasure of the palette.”

  “Dost thou wax poetic?” She asked and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “I wax nothing. I like olives.” He laughed and stroked her hair. “Is all of this necessary? You must have enough here to entertain an army. Besides, what do you know of entertaining?”

  “I’ll have you know I studied everything about entertaining when I was matron of the bed and breakfast.”

  “There you go with the matron thing again.” He ate several more of the olives and then set the jar on the floor. “You will always be my beautiful queen.”

  “You are only saying that because you know I love flattery,” she said, but snuggled next to him and he wrapped one arm around her.

  “I am saying it because it is true. Now what is this you have here, my love?” Nergal pulled the parchment from her hand and perused the list carefully written on it.

  “The guest list.”

  “Who are all these people?” Nergal frowned at the long list.

  “Relatives, of course,” she
giggled like a little girl. “Who else would be invited to a family reunion?”

  “I didn’t know you had so many…” His frown deepened as he scanned the list. “Are you sure they will come?”

  “Oh, they will come. How can they refuse?” She smiled and closed her eyes briefly. “Oh!” She said and snapped her eyes open. She took the paper from him and added another name. “I almost forgot him. How silly of me! He would never forgive me for leaving him off the guest list.”

  Nergal did not share his queen’s enthusiasm.

  “Let me see that again.” He took the paper from her and squinted at it in the golden light. “This one is certainly not a member of your illustrious family. Nor is this one and this one.”

  “Of course, they aren’t, my darling husband. They are on the hired help list,” she explained patiently.

  “Hired help? You believe these people will come and work for you?”

  “I know they will.” She smiled and then got up lazily. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “This is very tedious work, my Lord.” She inspected a dusty wine bottle and then turned on one of the Boggans as he crashed into a group of pedestals, knocking one over. “Will you please be careful? Watch where you are going. Where is Plotius?”

  The Boggan pointed one hairy arm toward one of the entrances to the cavern and then scuttled away from her.

  An unusual whining noise filled the chamber, and then Plotius emerged from the dark recess of the tunnel, riding an electrically powered lawn tractor. A small, two-wheeled dump cart was attached to the green and yellow tractor. He bounced down the ramp and drove carefully through the piles of supplies, stopping in front of the queen. Two fat, brown and white spotted pigs grunted and snorted from the confines of the cart.

  Nergal approached the tractor with his mouth hanging open.

  “Plotius.” Ereshkigal smiled at her unlikely captain. He wore a pair of green canvass trousers and a khaki shirt. The Boggan-turned-human got off the tractor and looked at Nergal fearfully. “These are perfect. Good job.”

  “Reshki.” Nergal took her arm and turned her around. “How can you allow this contraption in our home?”

  “Plotius promised to acquire the least polluting sort of contraption, didn’t you, Plotius?” She glanced at her captain and he nodded nervously. “Besides, my Lord, how can he carry pigs as magnificent as these on a horse or a pony? And look at his scrawny muscles. He is more for show now than real work.”

  “Hmmmm.” Nergal scowled at the captain. “Just make sure that thing doesn’t foul the air in here, worm, and Reshki, you need to teach him to comb his hair.”

  “We’re working on that, dearest husband,” Reshki assured him. “He’s come a long way, haven’t you, Plotius?”

  Plotius pulled a comb from his pocket and began to run it through his wild hair, while he nodded idiotically.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “I can’t do it,” Mark Andrew said as the looked at himself in the gilt mirror above the dressing table.

  “Yes you can,” he argued with himself.

  “What will happen to me?” He asked.

  “We will work that out… somehow,” he answered himself.

  “What about Lily? What if the Clanahans return? They won’t be as cordial as before.”

  “We can think of something. There must be a way to solve this. Sophia cannot stay in the barn. We have to think of the baby.”

  “The baby! Why? Why did you have to do that?”

  “It was in the stars.”

  “What do you know of stars?”

  “I know a great deal. My father taught me.”

  “I’m your father!” Mark slammed one fist on the table in frustration. He had awakened the sleeping one in his head to consult with him about Sophia and the predicament he was in because of her.

  “Not completely. You are only part of my father. You are not the contiguous father.”

  “That’s absurd. I am Mark Ramsay.”

  “And so am I and so is he.”

  “I can’t stand this. I didn’t ask for this to happen.”

  “You think I did? Perhaps we are both victims of the same fate, but whatever the case may be, you cannot abandon Sophia. Allow me to take her away from here.”

  “And just where would you take her?” Mark raised both eyebrows at his reflection in the mirror.

  “I don’t know, but I have to try to find a way back home. You can come back here, once we find out where ‘here’ is,” he answered himself.

  “Now how can we do that? I see two minds here… at odds… and one body. Not a good circumstance under any condition.”

  “I would request this, at least: You allow me to remain alert. Perhaps I can learn something about this place which may escape you. Give me a bit of time, and I promise not to trouble you.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Mark frowned. “You promise not to make trouble for me? Not to intervene? I understand this era… you don’t.”

  “I promise… except for one thing,” his reflection answered him and then paused.

  “What?” He looked at himself from under his brows.

  “I do not want to be unfaithful to Sophia. I must insist you stay out of Madame Lily’s bedroom.”

  “Fur cryin’ out loud!” Mark stood up and then could not see himself. He sat down again quickly and closed his eyes. “I have not been in Lily’s bed for your information! If it is any of your business, I have agreed to marry her so you and your brother can be legitimate. She is concerned for your reputation.”

  “My reputation?” His image looked confused. “I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t mean to offend you… or scandalize mother.”

  “Mother,” Mark looked down at his hands. How in hell had he gotten into this mess? “Your mother. What do you think of her?”

  “She is lovely. I would have liked to have known her.” His reflection smiled sadly.

  “Stop it.” Mark growled. He had to control his temper. Guilt trip. He’d not had a good guilt trip since he’d spent time with Meredith. “Oll roight then. I’ll stay prim and proper, and ye’ll stay out o’ me way. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” the reflection’s face lit up.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Luke scanned the horizon, squinting against the bright midday sun. The blue waters of the ocean lay beyond the canopy of green hardwood trees. A strip of white beach peeked out between the distant chalk cliffs. It was a breath-taking vista, magnificent. Like a dream come true.

  “You are impressed.” Semiramis hooked her arm through his. He’d almost forgotten her presence.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said absently as the thought of what he had done returned to him. “I had no idea.”

  “Your father built this place for me and my sister,” she told him and waved one hand casually toward the trees. “We are happy here.”

  “But, where is here?” Luke Andrew had never been able to accept these inter-dimensional realities. He knew they existed. He knew they were real, but he didn’t understand them. If his father could create such things, then why were they in such a mess? Why didn’t his father simply ‘fix’ things? And, furthermore, if his father could do such wonders, why could he not accomplish the same thing?

  “You are wondering how he was able to do it, aren’t you?” She asked and leaned her golden head against his shoulder.

  “Are you reading my mind? If you are reading my mind, we will certainly have to part company,” he said and patted her hand.

  “It would be only natural for a son to wonder about his inheritance. I do not need to read your mind. I can see it in your eyes. You want to be as powerful as your father. It will never happen.”

  Luke frowned and sighed heavily.

  “Your father is very old, Luke. Compared to him, you are a tiny infant, barely out of your mother’s womb. As time progresses, your powers grow, but only time can give you what he has earned.”

  “But why hasn’t he done a better job? I woul
d have thought that only a god could have created such as this,” he shook his head and then looked up at the clear blue sky. The air was filled with the scent of tropical flowers. Birds of wondrous color and plumage flitted through the trees below. Millions of winged insects buzzed about the flowering vines.

  Semiramis laughed. “You forget, little one, your father was a god at one time, or perhaps, more like, he has been a god several times. Being a god is less attractive than it seems. He gave up his deity and took on royalty. A bit less demanding perhaps, but after a few ages of kingship, he gave it up for anonymity. And that is when the real trouble began. As long as he was a god or a king, he didn’t have to cover up. Once he tried to be a man, he could not account for himself. It was an incongruity. When he tried to create a niche for himself in the world of men, he started a chain of events which is still unfolding. But you must also remember that the One who created the gods is still in control of destiny. We will fulfill our destinies, Luke. You remind me very much of your father, but you have enough of your mother in you to be incompatible with me. You and I will never fully agree on anything. You are a very close substitute, but….”

  “But what?” He turned on her and his temper flared. “I never asked you to make comparisons between myself and my father. You said yourself, I am not Mark Andrew.”

  “Yes, that is very true, sadly and you must make your own way.” She laughed slightly. “There is no need to be angry. I am being truthful with you. Have you not enjoyed my company?”

  “Of course, but I feel guilty for having left the others,” he admitted and wondered why.

  “That is a great concession for you,” she said. “And it is with them you belong. Not here. Your father may have created this paradise, but he did not build it for himself. He built it for me and for Diana and do you know why? Guilt. The exact same emotion you are feeling right now. He felt guilty. His one great downfall. Adar always felt guilty. About his power. About his glory. About his intelligence and his remarkable capacity to win friends, whom he claimed he did not want or need. About his ability to lay waste to his enemies. He was always on top, Luke and you know what they say about the top.”