Incarnations of Immortality

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Incarnations of Immortality Page 60

by Anthony, Piers


  ",ecnO" she said, holding up one finger.

  "That means yes. Sey."

  ".ees I ,hO" She was pleased. "!mih peek dluoc I hsiw I"

  Keep Sning? "Well, you might borrow him—so you can spot the demons. I can see them without Sning's help." That seemed to be another power conferred on him by the mantle of Chronos.

  ",seY" she agreed.

  Now it jelled. Agleh and Sning would scout the Senator's estate, locating all the demons and possessed people. The minions of Satan would not suspect them, because Agleh was obviously a normal person, not an Incarnation. She would report to Norton, who would then move in to the capsule at the critical time, avoiding the pre-spotted demons. Sning would warn Agleh of any threat to her. With luck, there would be no trouble, and the deed would be done before Satan knew it.

  Then at last Norton would be able to relax. He could return to his own time—and never see Agleh again. That he regretted; these few hours had brightened when she appeared.

  He knew he shouldn't, but he asked her anyway, on the paper: DO YOU LIKE WILDERNESS?

  She replied: I LOVE IT.

  Why did he torment himself?

  "!og s'teL" she said briskly, heading for the door.

  Norton started to go with her, then stopped. He couldn't show his face near the Senator's estate until they had the demons posted. "I'll wait here," he said somewhat lamely.

  ",eyB" she agreed and backed out.

  Norton watched at the window as she went out on the lighted street. The demon was still patrolling, but paid Agleh no attention. He relaxed slightly; it was working!

  He watched Agleh out of sight, then paced restlessly. The woman had passed the demon, and that was good—but now he wondered just how many of Satan's minions in whatever form mingled with the living human beings regularly. Did the Prince of Evil normally keep an eye on the affairs of the mundane world? How could any person ever be sure that evil was not just around the corner? It was a disquieting notion.

  The clock on the wall wavered, and he refocused his concentration; he was tiring, or the Hourglass was, and now that he had nothing to rev him up, it was becoming more difficult to keep the reverse flow going. He seemed to have periods when it went automatically and periods when it required all his effort. But he felt his resources giving out; it was as if he had been driving all night or running all day. He had only an hour to go, but now it seemed like more than the time that had passed.

  He continued to pace, fighting to maintain control, but the clock wavered more frequently. He no longer had Agleh's direct support of will; maybe that was making a difference. He was in danger of giving the victory to Satan by default.

  Now he wondered: was it really worth the effort? Would it be all that bad if Satan won? It would be so easy just to let it slide, to let the normal flow of time resume. He realized his attitude was similar to that of a freezing man who just wanted to sleep—a sleep that would never end—but somehow he didn't care. He was so tired; his will was exhausted.

  He relaxed, heedless of the changing of the clock. He sank into a chair, his eyes glazing. This apartment reminded him of Orlene's—she who had loved her baby too well and died of it, because of the evil in the family genes of Gawain the Ghost. That evil, traveling down the lineage, taking its dreadful toll of each generation. Where had it originated? Where would it end?

  Evil? It had, of course, originated with the Prince of Evil. It would end there, too. From Evil came evil, and to Evil it returned. Without the Demon of Evil, the DEvil, the Devil, it would not exist, for he was the Incarnation of it. From him and to him—

  Something coalesced. The evil that had been responsible for Orlene's death—it had had to come from Satan!

  Suddenly Norton was up and alert. Satan had cost him Orlene—and he owed Satan for that. Now he had a chance to repay the Prince of Evil by foiling this present mischief.

  The flow of time reversed again. The clock resumed its backward march. Norton knew he would make it through now. Hate would accomplish what duty could not.

  At 5:25 A.M. Agleh returned. "!lla meht dettops evah eW" she exclaimed. And she grabbed pen and paper and sketched a map, showing both spirits and possessed by marking their locations with little S's and P's.

  Just in time! "I've got to get into that building soon." Norton said, aware that she could not follow all his backward words, but would pick up the sense of them. "I need to know every demon!"

  "llufrednow saw gninS" she said, perfecting the map.

  Norton studied the pattern of S's and P's. "But if they're moving, they won't be in the same places," he said, concerned.

  She figured this out. ",staeb klaw yehT" she explained, sketching in light lines to mark territories, ".htrof dna kcaB"

  "Oh." Walking beats—yes, of course. So there would be fair continuity. All he had to do was time his passage. It was like a maze or a video game; if he maneuvered deftly enough, he should score.

  He concentrated on the map, aligning the details with what he knew of the region, memorizing the pattern. It wasn't difficult; there were only six possessed and six spirits, and his fatigue of will was not fatigue of mind. Six and six—of course. 666 was Satan's personal number. But where was the third six?

  Well, he judged that he could make the run in about six minutes. Maybe he'd better plan on that. It might have the effect of completing Satan's number, so that there would be no infernal alarm. The period of backward time was also scheduled for six hours. One way or another, it matched.

  Six minutes—that would leave him no margin for error. Any significant delay would cost him the mission. But as he pondered it, he became more certain this was the key. Play it by Satan's rules—and Satan's defeat would be complete.

  He explained this to Agleh, writing out essential words to be sure she had it straight. ",uoy htiw og ll'I" she said.

  "I don't think that's wise. You've been there, scouting it. If the demons see you again, so close to the zero hour, they'll be alerted."

  ",rebmemer t'now yehT" she pointed out.

  "They won't remember," he repeated thoughtfully. But he wasn't sure of that. Most people seemed hardly aware of their backward progress, but the ones in his immediate vicinity were, and those ones had backward memory, as Agleh herself did. Also, these were not people, but Satan's demons and spirits, assigned to watch for him. If Agleh was seen with him now, the demons might manage to remember backward just enough to make trouble.

  He pointed this out to her. Reluctantly, she agreed. Then she brightened. "!noisrevid a trats ll'I" she said.

  A diversion. That could indeed make it easier for him—but it would be risky for her.

  "Itsisni I" she said.

  He looked at his watch. Time was shortening; his final six minutes were almost upon him. He didn't have time to argue.

  ",pleh lliw gninS" she said, holding up her hand with Sning.

  He had forgotten to take the little serpent back! But it was true; Sning could be a big help to her, since the little snake could detect invisible spirits. Norton could recover his ring once the mission was done. "Okay," he said with some misgiving.

  "!yakO" she echoed. She gave him another kiss somewhat less backward; she was getting used to these interactions.

  It was time. They moved out smartly. Agleh set out ahead to intercept the first possessed. Sning would signal her if she needed to distract the man; if not, she would simply proceed to the second, in effect running interference. Norton followed more slowly, trying to look like a casual passer-by.

  The problem was that they both had to walk backward, so he couldn't see what happened to Agleh. He just had to assume that his way would be open, thanks to her and Sning.

  He entered the first possessed's beat and backed through it without challenge. This was on the main street, and normal people were occasionally passing—early risers catching the local matter-mitter before the throng. He hoped he seemed like one of them. It was working—so far.

  Now he was entering the beat of a
spirit. According to his estimate, the spirit should be at the far side of it, facing away, so wouldn't see him. Sure enough—he spied the spirit's tail as the creature backed toward him. He schooled himself to make no overt reaction; that would be a giveaway, since ordinary people could not see such creatures. Of course the spirit would recognize him anyway, if it turned and saw him—but it was unlikely to turn, because of the regularity of its beat. Evil spirits, as he understood it, did not have much imagination or initiative. Only strange behavior on his part would cause them to break their routine—such as reacting to the sight of one.

  He reached the estate. Though there were twelve of Satan's minions on patrol, they were not all in one place; they were spread fairly thin through and about the estate, to cover all of it. They knew he would exploit any gap in their coverage. He had only three to worry about along this route, and now he had navigated two. The third was another spirit in the hall beyond the side entrance. He probably could not avoid that one—but with only two minutes remaining till zero-time, maybe that one could not spread the alarm in time to do Satan much good. This was the chancy part!

  He opened the door behind him and backed in. This was a servants' entrance, and there weren't many servants about at this early hour. Norton turned and proceeded forward; it was more comfortable, and he knew he would not fool the spirit anyway. He moved through the labyrinth of the servants' region, guessing where the spirit would be and avoiding that region.

  He guessed wrong. The spirit appeared, did a double take, and fled through the wall. Norton was not reassured. Ninety seconds remained—was it too much time? Could the spirit summon overwhelming counterforce before zero moment? Had he given Satan too much leeway?

  He entered the pantry where the bottle of capsules was stored. No spirit guarded it now; he had spooked that one away. He looked at the bottle—

  There were six horned, barbtailed feline creatures there. Hellcats—that was the final complement of the 666!

  The Hellcats spied him and snarled. They formed a semicircle near the shelf of the capsule, tails switching. Each had saber-toothed tusks and great blood red claws. They looked deadly.

  But this was Earth, not Hell, Norton reminded himself. No true Hellcats existed here. These had to be spirit cats, powerless against any living person physically, and impotent against Chronos in any way. They represented another lie from the Father of Lies, a bluff to confuse Chronos. All they could do was attempt to distract him—and that would fail.

  One minute. He was early after all, but he would prevail.

  Then he heard approaching noises. Was the original capsule demon arriving? Norton brought out his vial of holy water and stood ready. The demon would have to be given the chance to unhex the capsule; then Norton had to douse it.

  Figures appeared. Norton stared, stunned. A possessed—and Agleh. They had taken her hostage!

  The possessed held the woman's right arm wrenched cruelly behind her, while his left hand clasped a gleaming knife menacing her face. "!seid ehS" he grunted eagerly.

  Norton held the holy water. He could throw it at the pair of them; it would not hurt Agleh, but it would banish the evil spirit from the possessed man. One flick of his wrist—

  "!ti od t'noD" Agleh cried, divining his intent.

  Angrily the possessed brought the knife to her neck. She caught at his hand with her left hand, but she had neither his strength nor his leverage. "!seid ehS" he repeated.

  Norton stared at those two hands—his big hairy one, clasping the wicked knife; her delicate fair one with Sning on the middle finger. Now he understood the ploy; if he used the holy water to save Agleh, he would not have it to foil the capsule demon, and Satan would win. But if he did not save Agleh—

  He heard something to his side. The six impotent Hellcats had vanished, and in their place was a coalescing cloud of smoke. In seconds it cleared, revealing a tiny solid demon with a single large horn. This was the capsule demon.

  The possessed made an incoherent grunt and nudged the blade in to touch Agleh's throat. Norton couldn't let her die!

  Then he had an inspiration. "Sning!" he cried.

  Immediately the little snake uncoiled and struck at the adjacent hand of the possessed. The tiny fangs sank into the hairy skin. The man grunted, feeling the sting.

  Norton turned to watch the capsule demon. The thing was standing below the capsule bottle. Suddenly it rose up to land on the shelf. It touched the bottle, and there was a small flash of light. Then the demon began to climb down the shelving. The hex had been undone.

  Norton hurled the holy water at the little demon. The water struck—and the demon puffed into smoke, exactly as before—but a critical minute earlier in normal time.

  He turned back to Agleh and the possessed. The man was leaning against the wall, bafflement on his face. Agleh stood alone, massaging her sore right arm, otherwise all right.

  Norton relaxed. "It's over," he said. "The demon no longer possesses the man, and my mission is complete."

  "I thought it was a good deal," the unpossessed muttered. "But when that evil spirit actually took control—God! I mean that literally—I'm turning to God, while there's still time!"

  "It's over," Agleh agreed. Time was now normal; they were all talking comprehensibly.

  Then she vanished. Norton stood alone in the deserted and dusty house. What had happened?

  In a moment he knew. He was back in his present. The power of the Hourglass had been exhausted, causing him to revert when his will no longer supported the fading magic of the instrument. Or it might be that when he tried to live in normal time flow, allowing himself to be carried along by the world current, he had run afoul of the three person barrier and been bounced out. Either way, it was over, and he had foiled Satan.

  He looked at his bare hand. With a shock he realized that he had lost Sning. Agleh had been wearing him when it happened. Sning had saved her by poisoning the possessed and forcing the evil spirit to leave. Apparently the spirit had thought the man was going to die, so had instantly deserted the sinking ship—and there had been no chance for her to give the ring back to Norton. She had intended to, but his sudden return had prevented it.

  Norton sighed. That was a telling loss! But he missed Agleh, too. She had loyally helped him, and must have been chagrined when he deserted her so abruptly.

  Well, perhaps it was only fair for her to retain a token of the experience. Chronos was gone, but Sning would comfort her.

  Norton left the deserted estate, feeling lonely. On impulse he walked to Agleh's apartment—but found the neighborhood changed. In the intervening eight years the oasis of primitive life had been abolished, having no regressive Senator to preserve it. The building had been replaced by a warehouse. He could not find her or anything of hers there.

  He used the Hourglass to return to his mansion in Purgatory. The instrument performed sluggishly; it was tired. So was he; the success of his mission provided him little elation.

  He checked his mailbox. There was a single package in it, a small one. He opened it immediately, curious what anyone would send to Chronos—and discovered Sning!

  A brief note was enclosed, in feminine script. Chronos—I couldn't keep Sning; he's yours. He told me this would reach you. Best wishes, Helga.

  Norton stared at the message until it blurred. What a fine woman! Was there no way he could thank her?

  Sning uncoiled, slid across his hand, and curled around his finger. Squeeze.

  The separation had been brief, in Norton's terms, but eight years in another sense and an eternity emotionally. "Oh, Sning, I'm so glad to have you back! You say I can thank Agleh?"

  Right there, in the Twenty Questions fashion, Sning told him. All he had to do was make a quick trip to a moment just before his interaction with her time and mail her a letter—Sning had the address, which he could explicate by squeezing as Norton pointed to letters and numbers on a sheet of paper—that would reach her after their separation. Theoretically, the mails were magi
cally enhanced to give one—day service, but in practice it was seldom so; there would be no paradox of premature delivery. He could even make it a package, containing some suitable gift that would please her.

  "Yes," Norton agreed. Suddenly he felt much more positive. He would shop for an appropriate gift; Sning would help.

  He glanced once more at the note before putting it away. Best wishes, Helga.

  Helga—her name forward, of course.

  Now he remembered; he had known Helga in his younger days, while still employed within the system. She had come to him, inquiring, "Haven't we met before?" And he had been so flattered by the come-on from such a pretty and sensible woman that he had not demurred. They had kept company for a couple of years before the exigencies of his wanderlust and her professional nursing career had required an amicable separation. She had been his dearest female friend, prior to Orlene, and he felt a lingering fondness as he thought of her, even these six years later.

  Odd that he hadn't thought about her before, or recognized her when he encountered her in his guise of Chronos. Obviously she had remembered him, thereafter, though she hadn't said so.

  Odd? No, not odd at all! He had not known her in his first existence; she had been added to his experience as Chronos. His past had been changed—without paradox.

  Ironic that he should have that wonderful experience of her company only in memory, not in reality. Yet for her, surely, it had been fully real, and perhaps that had been her reward for helping him balk Satan. She had kept his secret, too; never had she mentioned Chronos, or spoken any backward word.

  He still owed her. He would send her a really nice gift.

  Whistling, he walked on into his mansion.

  Chapter 12 - QUEST

  "You have a caller, sir," the butler informed him.

  "I'm not at home to callers at the moment," Norton said. "I've just had a very wearing session; the Hourglass and I must rest."

  "Sir, he will not be denied. He is angry."

  Norton paused. "Satan? I'm not surprised. All right, I'll tell him to go to Hell myself."

 

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