“Seems you did a whale of a job patching me up,” he said.
She sighed. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Guess I’ll need to kill another bloke or two soon, so we can charge you back up, right?”
She rolled her eyes and said nothing.
8 - Film
Malcolm stood and stretched.
Vivienne stayed down.
“You going to be alright?” he asked.
She sighed and rose from the bench. “I’ll live.”
He nodded. “Good. We should probably have a look around, see what we can find. After going through all that mess, I’m hoping we can get something of use for our trouble.”
“I wonder if Simone’s really here,” said Vivienne.
“I don’t think so. I think it was all a ruse. A trap.”
- - -
They probably would’ve missed the hatch leading down to the basement if it hadn’t been left standing open. They descended with caution and stealth, but Malcolm wasn’t all that worried—the place felt entirely empty at this point, and he was inclined to trust his gut.
When they reached the bottom, Malcolm immediately recognized the portal device for what it was—even though he’d never seen one in person he’d read a good deal about them.
He spent a little time looking at all the machinery, which he found fascinating. It seemed impossibly complicated, but it looked to be in good repair.
Vivienne paid no attention to the machinery, but she seemed to have a great interest in the ring itself. She ran her fingers along the runes carved into the silvery surface, and her expression suggested she had more than a passing idea what they were supposed to represent.
“You know how to run one of these?” he asked.
“It basically runs itself if you have a disc.”
“Disc?”
“It’s like a CD or a DVD, works as a shortcut. Lets you skip all the complicated math.”
“Where would it be?”
She pulled her attention away from the ring, examined the equipment for a minute or so, and found the slot. It was in an odd place underneath a bunch of dials in the upper corner of a panel. A single button ejected the disc. Vivienne took it out, looked it over, then pushed it back in.
“It’ll work, if we need to use it,” she said.
“Where will it take us?”
“It may be possible to go all sorts of places with it, depending on the locations built into this disc, but if we use it, I suspect we’ll head across to the Mirror world—the land of images.”
“The Gap?”
“Right.”
- - -
They found the little prison next, and it was exactly like the place that the drones had shown Malcolm in their messages.
One cell had children’s toys and women’s clothes. Another was empty, but the bed was unmade.
“Wonder if Simone was ever really here?” he said to Vivienne.
“It’s possible,” she said. “But she doesn’t have a child, does she?”
He shook his head. “Not as far as I know. And really, the message they sent was a little bit nonsensical, looking back. Why tie her up, with old-fashioned rope of all things, and put her in one of these cells. It’s a little redundant.”
“Strange to have a prison here, under this church,” said Vivienne. “Makes me think of a dungeon.”
“Yes,” he said. “Probably the last stop for a lot of people. Can’t imagine many found mercy after being confined in this place.”
- - -
The only other room downstairs, besides a small bathroom, was an office. It was a neat and tidy space with no personal belongings in evidence—no photographs or keepsakes. There was an expensive wooden desk, a computer, a small television, and a very interesting gray-plastic projector the likes of which Thackery had never seen, sitting on a low table in the center of the floor.
“I believe this is off-world technology of some kind,” he said, examining the projecter. “If so I’m stealing it from these bastards for my collection.”
He found a button on the side of the machine, and it opened to reveal a little cartridge that looked a bit like an old-fashioned eight-track tape. It had strange writing on it—alphabetic characters he didn’t recognize mixed with others that he did.
On the opposite wall, there was a white movie-screen that could be rolled down—the sort that you would see in a classroom in the old days when teachers played films for their students.
There were a series of buttons on top of the projector, very similar to what you’d find on any ordinary VCR or DVD player, so figuring out how to operate it was relatively self-explanatory.
Within a couple of minutes, they’d rewound the filmstrip to the beginning and started it over.
The film showed an old woman-
No not old, thought Malcolm. Ancient. She’s like a living mummy.
The woman wasn’t entirely human, a fact made clear by the gray speckled skin that covered her naked body, the metallic silver shade of her short spiky hair, and the two haunting orange eyes that stared at the camera with discomforting intensity. Hard sinewy muscles covered her spare frame, and fresh blood dribbled out of her mouth, down her chin and onto her neck. She was chewing something, and her hand came up into frame to take another bite-
“Dear god,” said Malcolm, as he recognized the thing that she held.
It was the arm of a young child, perhaps three years old from the size. There were already two or three bites missing from it, and white bones gleamed.
The woman took another bloody bite, chewed and swallowed. Then she said, speaking with a very old-fashioned southern accent, “Myra… Dearest… My poor, poor, crazy, disobedient daughter. Always, always you’re putting me in such hard situations… If things were different, I might kill you for what you did this time. I really might! But, turns out, it’s your lucky day, girl. Very lucky. Yes it is...”
The woman trailed off for a bit, stared at the screen blankly, then said, “I’m feeling so, so much better today, because our Great Father has blessed me with some of the sweetest fruits he has in his cellar, as you can see,” she held up the mutilated arm to showcase it in front of the camera. “I feel rejuvenated, and clearer in my mind, and my heart’s a little softer now, too, so I’m generally inclined to let you keep on living. But, the truth is, I’m not allowed to discipline you at this time even if I wanted, because the Great Father has decided that he has a many wonderful uses for you, coming up in the very near future.
“And in relation to all that, he has also decided recently to share with me some things that were kept secret in the past.
“Most of these special secrets deal with matters concerning your former charge, my slutty future replacement. The young harlot is apparently an important figure in certain prophecies. At a point in the distant past, 1000 years ago, or maybe even longer, the Father consulted with an oracle—that’s another word for fortune teller, in case you’re too dumb to know it—and the oracle said to watch for certain signs. Our Father has seen some of those signs, and there is a chance that this big prophecy he’s been waiting on for a long time will soon come to pass. I won’t go into the specifics, because there’s no reason for you to be privy to the whole story, but I will tell you that this prophecy is both good and bad... Our Father will either rise to a higher glory, or fall to ruin, and in the events that will unfold, my eventual replacement—that rotten cockteasing whore—is right at the heart of it all.
“So, if you had allowed something to happen to her, you might be in real trouble, but, as it turns out, the young floozy is already here, safe and sound, in The Lands, shacking up in a little place down south called Gilkenmeed. It’s a place where they farm excellent mud for making golems, and that’s about all its known for these days. Normally, as you surely know but chose to ignore, the Father doesn’t like anyone to interfere with his disciples—he didn’t interfere with me one bit when he was bringing me along, teaching me his ways. But this n
ew one—miss perfect twat blossom—is some kind of messiah as far as The Father is concerned, so the rules don’t apply to her. Things are probably going to get complicated regarding her education in our ways, because of various cosmic forces and enemies directed against our way of life, and so The Father might decide to do many extra things to make sure this Simone ends up in our camp.
“As for you, Myra, my stubborn but resourceful daughter, The Father has plans in which you will play a useful role. And so will that nice young Asian man you recently captured.”
The old lady smiled in a mocking fashion, and said, “Yes, Girl, that’s right—I already know about him, and what he can do. And I know more than you do about how he does it. The Father has a use for that man, in relation to all the great and important matters that are afoot, so you should bring him along with you when you come… The best thing for you to do at this time is to make any arrangements you need to make, and then get your big fanny over here quick as those ugly feet can carry you. Right now things are working in your favor, but time can change that. At any moment, things might start to sour on you again.”
The old woman wiped at the blood on her mouth with her arm, and said. “So, take care of any extra business, and then hurry along. I’ll be waiting, and remember girl—the clock is ticking.”
Abruptly the message ended, and a hush fell over the room.
After a moment, Malcolm said, “Was that who I think it was?”
Vivienne nodded. “That was the Queen Mother—Apep’s only familiar. Once upon a time, in another life, she was known as Martha Jones. Do not hate her, hate the monster that rules her mind; the foul thing that corrupted her. She never really had a chance or a choice… In her whole life she never had a real choice about anything.”
“So this is what will happen to Simone?”
“Eventually, yes, if we fail... The good news is that we have a better chance to succeed now.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you hear? She gave us Simone’s exact location, and we have a portal machine in the next room. This is what we came here for. We were meant to find this.”
“You’re saying it’s destiny?”
“Naturally. We’re both swimming in a river of destiny now, and there’s no getting out of it either, no matter how much we might want to.”
PART 8 - RESCUE
1 - Masses
They exited the pyramid by going right out the front entrance. The guards at the door didn’t pay them any mind, just moved aside and let them walk past.
Simone noticed a few people traversing the long stairway leading down into the town, mostly older men in business suits, some heading up, others heading down. Apparently administrative governmental stuff was still going on in the pyramid today despite the big crowd outside, so nobody took any notice when they left.
Another larger group of guards were positioned at the bottom of the steps to keep the crowd back, and there was a chain attached to a row of low metal posts, forming a boundary. Two of the guards were manning a gap in the chain where people were presenting identification before being allowed to go up the steps.
Seemed that they were running a pretty tight ship, which made sense.
However, those trying to leave, apparently, were of much less concern. There was a single guard manning another gap at the far end of the chain line, and he would let you out without so much as a glance.
Beyond that point, the crowd had been herded off to the sides so that there was a bit of a walking lane, but that only continued for a short distance, and then you had to wade right into the thick mass of bodies if you wanted to keep making progress.
Simone felt super nervous at first, because it seemed impossible that she could walk among so many people and not have any of them see through the illusion, but the trick worked just as advertised.
Later, as they were crossing the bridge, which was so teeming with people that they often had to turn sideways to slip between them, she asked Damien, “What are the chances this illusion thing’ll wear off while I’m out in the middle of all these people?”
“I gave you a pretty good blast,” he said. “There’s pretty much no chance.”
She felt mildly relieved, but still found it impossible to totally drop her guard.
At street level, she was able to get a better sense for the mood of the gathered masses, and was surprised by how complicated it seemed to be. There was excitement, like one would expect at something like a rock concert, but there was also a lot of nervousness. People were fidgety. They talked too loud, and they seemed kind of wild in the eyes. It reminded her of the way people acted while standing in line at the amusement park, waiting to get on a really scary roller coaster.
When they arrived at the building where the kids were held—Simone couldn’t help but think of it as a church, even though it apparently wasn’t anything of the sort—she noticed that the crowd hadn’t spilled over onto the grounds at all. In fact, they seemed to be actively avoiding the place, as if some invisible force was pushing them away.
Probably just subconscious disgust, she thought. All these fuckers should be ashamed of what’s going on here, and they probably are ashamed. They know right from wrong, whether they want to admit it to themselves or not.
When she and Damien finally broke out of the crowd, and started up the walkway towards the building entrance, she noticed several people staring at them; no, not just staring—these people were actually giving them dirty looks, as if they’d just violated some dreaded taboo.
How dare we remind you of the horrible culture you participate in? she thought. All these bastards had their heads firmly buried in the sand, and had no desire for anyone to put the bare facts in front of their faces, not even for a second.
She despised them. Every. Single. One.
2 - Walk Down
They marched up the steps onto the little porch, and Damien tried to open the doors, but they were locked.
“Looks like they’ve closed up for the day,” she said.
“Closed to the public,” he said. “But the kids are there, and so are the priests.”
“When do they open for visitors?”
“Not sure, but there’s no reason to wait. Remember, you are the law in this place. These assholes are beholden to you. One-hundred percent. If you want in, you can force your way in.”
She thought about it for a second and nodded. “Yeah I guess so. Kind of hard to get used to thinking that way.”
“I’m sure it would be,” he said. Then he stepped to the side of the door, and added. “I’ll let you do the honors. Lady’s first, right?”
It took her a second to realize he expected her to break in.
Duh. Because I have super strength, and all that crap...
Or maybe she did…
She sort of doubted that her strength would be sufficient to bust the door open, but she gave it a go, and the lock snapped under only the slightest amount of strain from her. Which was pretty cool.
Inside, the place didn’t seem like a church at all. It was more like a lobby at a doctor’s office. There were nice-looking leather chairs positioned around the edges of the walls, and a big wooden desk in the exact spot where a receptionist would generally sit.
The room was empty, and the only light came through the curtained windows.
A subtle barnyard stench permeated the air.
Damien closed the doors behind them, and waved Simone over to come stand near him.
“What?” she said.
“Before we go any further, I need to remove the illusion.”
“Why?”
“When the priests see you, they need to know who you really are. We need them to recognize your authority.”
“Oh... Okay.”
She didn’t like it, but it made sense.
He took her hand, closed his eyes. She felt the warmth moving through her body just like before, and everything went blurry, and then... just for a second she saw shadowy wings behind him, spread wide,
like an Angel.
Then her clear vision returned, and it was just Damien again.
“All done,” he whispered.
She looked down at her hands, and saw with disappointment that they were, indeed, monster hands again.
“Now let’s go do this,” he said.
There was only one door leading out to the rest of the building, so that’s where they went.
Beyond it they found a long hall, well lit, with shiny hardwood floors, and rows of large heavy doors on either side. There were two stairways at one end of the hall, side by side—one leading up, another leading down.
The smell of animal filth was much stronger here.
“I’ve heard the kids are down in the basement,” said Damien, “So I guess we should check there first.”
She nodded without saying anything, and they started walking for the stairs.
At about the halfway point, they passed an open doorway, beyond which lay a small room with a twin-bed.
Simone stopped there for a closer look. She saw nothing inside to identify the occupant—there were no pictures on the walls or anything like that.
“I think these rooms are where the priests sleep,” said Damien.
“They live here?”
“Yeah.”
“Are there many of them?”
“Not sure. I think there are at least five or six.”
“Really stinks in this hall.”
He nodded. “Not sure how they stand it.”
“Wonder what’s causing it?”
He shrugged. “Let’s go down to the basement, and see what we can see.”
They started for the stairs again.
Simone, prompted by a sense of unease, focused on her special radar sense as they moved. Doors and walls sort of blocked the accuracy of the impressions—she could only get the foggiest sense of what lay beyond them—but even so, she was able to capture a decent feeling for the basic layout of the structure.
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