It Devours!

by Joseph Fink

  She opened her mouth. She closed her mouth. She got in the van.

  “Remember the notes about the Invocation we found in the office?” Darryl asked. “This is The Book of Devouring they mentioned. This is the book the church wants to use to bring the Smiling God into this world.”

  Darryl kept his eyes on Nilanjana, waiting for a response.

  “Turn right at Galloway” was all she said. “We’re a few blocks down, in the science district, next door to where Big Rico’s used to be.”

  As they pulled into the alley behind the lab, Nilanjana said, “Inside. Quickly. And then explain yourselves.”

  The group rushed forward, shutting the door behind them and gathering around a table where Darryl carefully laid the book down, as though it might explode. This seemed sensible to Nilanjana, who knew that while most books are dangerous because of the dangerous information inside, other books are dangerous because they actually explode.

  “Thank you for trusting us,” said Darryl.

  “All I did was let you inside,” she said.

  She gestured Mark and Luisa over and made hurried introductions. She didn’t want to be outnumbered in this situation, and if Darryl had been getting help from his friends, maybe it was time to let other scientists into this besides Carlos.

  “We know what the church is doing,” said Darryl. “And we don’t believe in it. This is our religion. It means everything to us. And we don’t want this kind of destruction to be done in our name just because some people in the leadership got the wrong idea about how to worship the Smiling God.”

  “I’ve given my life to the church,” said Stephanie. “And now they want us to be devoured.”

  “We want to help you stop them, so that we can take our religion back,” said Jamillah.

  “We want to worship the Smiling God in peace and with peace,” said Darryl, “and that is why we’ve brought you this.”

  Nilanjana studied the cover of the book. It had an intricate design made with nails connected by wire. The design had lines going in every direction, most of them silver, but throughout them were gold wires. The gold wires formed a series of interlocking triangles. Near those interlocking triangles was a single golden nail. The design was familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on how.

  “What’s the cover made of?” Mark said. “It’s really shiny and dark.”

  “Potatoes,” explained Luisa.

  “That looks nothing like potatoes.”

  “Well, that’s your opinion.”

  “It’s an insect’s exoskeleton,” Nilanjana said. “Where did you find this book?”

  “I stole it from the pastor’s office,” Darryl said.

  “We helped,” said Jamillah, proudly.

  “We stood watch,” said Stephanie. “I’ve never done anything like that before. It was exciting.”

  “Her office?” Nilanjana said. “But you already searched there.”

  “That’s true. But when we were in her office yesterday, she told us she wanted to show us the book. She asked us to bow our heads in prayer.”

  “Gordon made us keep our eyes closed, so we couldn’t see what she was doing,” Jamillah said.

  “And when we opened our eyes, after a short prayer, we saw this giant, hard-to-miss book. It was too big to have been hidden on the shelf, but it must have been kept somewhere nearby,” Darryl said.

  “Then Darryl commented that the needlework on the wall was crooked,” Stephanie said.

  “We went back and found the book in a panel behind the needlework,” Jamillah said. “I used my drill to open it,” she added happily.

  “Wow, you three would make a good team of scientists,” Luisa said. “I mean, they don’t give awards for finding books, but still.”

  “We all have many things we would have been good at,” said Darryl. “But we can only be what we end up being.”

  Nilanjana opened up the book, examined the writing and diagrams inside.

  “What does it all mean?” she asked.

  “There’s a certain amount of theological debate about that,” said Stephanie.

  “Yes there is,” Jamillah said sharply. This seemed to Nilanjana like it might be a sore subject between them.

  “But to summarize,” interjected Darryl, who did not want to have to sit through another one of their debates on whether the glistening slime of the Smiling God’s antennae was meant to be taken literally or was a metaphorical flourish designed to connect the God to the life-giving nature of water, or perhaps childbirth. “What’s not debatable is that this book contains a ritual called the Invocation, which will summon the Smiling God. The pastor is planning on doing this ritual tomorrow evening. We have maybe a few hours before she notices that the book is missing.”

  “How do we stop her from performing the ritual?” said Nilanjana.

  “We don’t know,” said Jamillah.

  “And where is she planning to do this ceremony?”

  “We don’t know that either,” said Stephanie.

  “That’s why we brought the book to you,” said Darryl. “We were hoping with your science you might be able to think of something that could stop Night Vale from being devoured.”

  “So your religion has created a problem, and now you want science to fix it?” said Luisa, her look of disappointment deepened with layers of disdain.

  “Fair question,” said Mark.

  “Listen, it’s not about fault,” said Darryl, thinking it may have been a bit about fault. “A problem exists and we all need to work together to fix it.”

  “And don’t get me started on what scientists have done,” Jamillah said, and that instigated a prolonged, noisy debate.

  While the others argued, Stephanie flipped through the book. Certainly she was interested in the threat that the leadership of their church posed to Night Vale and to everyone she knew. But she was also fascinated by the history of the church. And here was one of its original documents, perhaps even as old as forty years, written in the hand of Kevin himself. She had loved Kevin’s radio show, back when he was still hosting it. It was full of happiness, joy, positivity. She didn’t know if he had actually gone back through the old oak door to heaven, but she hoped he was still spreading happiness wherever he was.

  She was thrilled to see some of his actual writing. Maybe this was the original text he had written after meeting the Smiling God in heaven. She flipped through the pages, yellowed with age, and also with the fact that they were torn from a yellow legal pad.

  Kevin had written: “Wow. What a perfectly wonderful, wonderfully perfect super day! I could not be more thrilled. The Smiling God blessed me with Its presence once again. I felt the sand beneath me quake, and Its Maw rose from deep within and greeted me. And I said, ‘Hey, I’m Kevin. How’s it going there?’ And It nearly swallowed me, which was a huge honor. ‘Big fan,’ I shouted as Its unbearable bulk blocked out all light around me, until it was just me, in the night It had created with Its movement, grinning up at Its darkness. Superinspiring and nice.”

  Next to this was a smiley face, and a strange symbol. Some sort of geometric design. Had Kevin been doodling in the holy text he had been writing?

  (“Isn’t that just like you religious freaks, you don’t believe in science until it’s your life on the line and then you come looking to us for answers,” Mark was shouting at Darryl. Jamillah was waving her drill.)

  Stephanie turned the page, and Nilanjana, uninterested in being part of an argument that no side would win, read along with her.

  The same strange geometric design was drawn across the top, along with some exclamation points and the phrase “Smiling God” in a cartoon heart.

  “Boy, life sure is great,” the text said. “I’ve figured out how to tell where the Smiling God will appear next. When It gets hungry, It begins to hunt. And It does these sweeps outward and outward. Always the same way, so I can wait just ahead of It and get a big ol’ eyeful of Its nightmare body. Nifty as all get-out!”

 
Stephanie found the text disappointingly practical. What she wanted to understand was the ineffable majesty of the Smiling God, and instead she was getting the eating habits of a living creature. This cheerful insistence on literality seemed to lower the Smiling God, reduce the mystery and the power of It.

  Nilanjana found the text disappointingly prosaic. She wanted specifics, facts, detailed charts about where and when and how this god was supposed to be summoned so she could form some hypothesis for how they could stop it.

  (“Scientists want to act like they have it all figured out,” Jamillah was saying, red-faced, “but no matter how many facts you learn, nothing in your knowledge can tell you what it means. You know but you don’t know why. Your knowledge is a hollow edifice.”)

  There were doodles throughout the book, including increasingly complicated versions of the geometric design. Stephanie examined one of the designs closely, trying to make some sense of it, and then, for whatever reason, it clicked into place. She had seen that design before.

  Nilanjana recognized the design too, although from a different place.

  “Hey, guys?” Nilanjana said.

  “FLAT ALL THE WAY ROUND. IT IS FLAT ALL THE WAY AROUND,” Jamillah was shouting, her drill running at the highest power.

  Apparently the argument had devolved into whether mountains existed.

  “Listen!” Stephanie said.

  “WHAT?” Jamillah’s face was flushed. “I’m sorry. That was loud. What?”

  “The design on this cover. It’s repeated all the way through the book,” Stephanie said. “And it’s the same as the one Gordon drew in that smelly paste on each of our necks during the prayer.”

  “Gross,” Mark gagged.

  “Churches are weird,” Luisa agreed.

  Stephanie showed the cover, with its interlocking triangles.

  “Yeah, that’s the pattern he drew on us,” Darryl agreed.

  “What do you think it means?” Stephanie asked.

  “Who knows?” said Mark. “It’s a pattern from the religious book. News flash, all your church stuff is made up.”

  “Not even a pretty design,” disapproved Luisa.

  “I think I know,” said Nilanjana. “I thought I had recognized it but I wasn’t certain.”

  She gathered them around her terminal and pulled up the video the helicopter pilot had given her. Grainy black-and-white footage, looking down at the desert, where something big was moving.

  They watched the flickering image. The thing moving through the sand. Coming out of the sand, moving across it, and disappearing back under it. Then coming back out of the sand at an angle and repeating all over again.

  “It’s making triangles,” Darryl said. “Whatever that is, it’s moving in a triangle.”

  “Interlocked triangles,” Nilanjana said. “The cover of your book is a diagram of its movements. It lines up exactly with the video.”

  She felt a moment of joy as she worked with Darryl, once again on the same side. It was a realization that she was missing something only when it was returned to her, the feeling of partnership when they worked together. She trusted him, even though she didn’t know if all the evidence and data added up to that. It wasn’t a decision, it was a feeling. She believed that he was on her side, and that made her happier than she understood.

  Darryl squinted at the book and then back at the video.

  “Then what is this spot?” he said, pointing at the golden nail in the cover.

  Nilanjana considered that.

  “If we applied that pattern to where this video was shot, and if it continues making the same triangles . . .”

  She laid a clear plastic grid on the screen and sketched out the triangles.

  “I think that golden nail is . . .” She drew a dot on the grid. “Right here. Oh.”

  The spot was where Larry Leroy’s house used to be.

  Darryl nodded, running his thumb absently over the cover of the book.

  “I think we know where they’re planning to stage the Invocation,” he said.

  32

  There were no feelings of mysticism, just sand, and scrub, and helicopters, and heat, and wind. Before Night Vale grew into a town, much of the area looked like this. This was what was waiting under the town’s asphalt, ready to reclaim everything once people were gone and forgotten.

  Mark measured the pit where Larry Leroy’s house used to be. Stephanie looked through the symbols in the book and compared them to the area. Nilanjana took air-quality samples (dry, speckled). Luisa took samples of plant species (dry, speckled). Jamillah found a small lizard (cute, speckled). Occasionally a Secret Police helicopter flew by, but none that Nilanjana recognized.

  She called Carlos to tell him about what they had been researching, and the discovery of the book, mystical and unscientific as it seemed. She asked him if there were any developments on his end.

  “Janice looks and feels fine,” Carlos said. “But I still worry constantly. Cecil is terrified for me. He said he couldn’t bear having to report on my demise. I should stay home. But I can’t. This is a crisis. And science exists to solve crises. I’ve saved Night Vale before, and I’ll do it again. I’m going back to the lab.”

  “At least come take a look at the book?” Nilanjana said, putting her hand on its strange binding. “I think they’re wanting to summon the creature where Larry Leroy’s house used to be.”

  “Religious rituals aren’t real. Or they are real, but they are real the way modern dance is real.”

  He sighed.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe you’re right. You were right about investigating the church. But I need to keep doing things my way. I’ll run another experiment from the lab. You keep looking into the church.”

  She got off the phone and told the group, “It’s just us. Carlos was no help. We’ll need to stop the Summoning ourselves.”

  “Let’s destroy the book,” Luisa said, lifting a potato peeler out of a pouch on her belt.

  “The Elders memorize sacred texts,” Stephanie said. “Because of a general distrust of reading, teaching is done orally. Between Pastor Munn and Gordon, they’ll know the entire ritual, book or not.”

  Luisa lowered the peeler.

  “Could we get some planks and then drill them over that pit?” Jamillah asked.

  “Whatever’s making the holes between the worlds demolished Larry’s house, a high school gym, and a pizza joint,” Mark said. “Planks won’t stop it.”

  There was a pause, as the group continued to think. They expressed their thinking by staring at the ground and tapping rocks with their shoes, occasionally saying “Um . . .” followed by “never mind.”

  Darryl finally spoke up.

  “Maybe diplomacy is best. I’ll take the book back. I’ll tell Pastor Munn I took it, that I led us all to this place. But it was not out of weakness of faith. It was out of strength. The Smiling God is our God, and It has the divine right to devour us whenever It pleases. It is not in the human interest to determine when that is. It is God’s will to act as It must. Only It knows the path of Its glory, the path of humanity.

  “I might be excommunicated. I might”—he choked up a little, looking at Jamillah and Stephanie—“not get to be around my family for a long time. But it is important that we do what is right. We cannot stop the Smiling God, we can only hope to stop those who wish to bring an end to human lives in Its name.”

  Nilanjana placed her arm around Darryl. He was weeping. She cradled his head and kissed his hair. She thought of Cecil with Carlos in the gym, and in this moment, she wanted to be a Cecil to someone, as she would want someone to be a Cecil to her.

  Darryl had been called the Wordsmith because of his affinity for writing, not speaking. He had trouble demonstrating that he meant what he said. But this was a sincerity she had rarely seen. Even his scrunched, sobbing face was beautiful in that moment.

  “Darryl,” she said. “Darryl, you would make that sacrifice for us?”

  “I
would. I would do anything for you.” He met her eyes long enough to show that while the you here was plural, it was, even more so, singular.

  “Anything?” Nilanjana asked softly.

  “Anything.”

  “Because the sacrifice we’re going to need to make is much more than that,” she said, kissing his cheek and taking The Book of Devouring from his hands. “We can’t stop the Invocation. And none of you could safely approach the pastor after what you’ve done. There is only one option left. We need to prevent this thing from hurting anyone ever again.

  “And the only way to do that,” she concluded, “is by summoning it ourselves.”

  Stephanie and Jamillah were giddy over Nilanjana’s plan. Stephanie had long wanted to conduct a religious rite, and here was a chance to be part of a Summoning. Not just a Summoning, but the Invocation itself.

  Darryl agreed. Mark rolled his eyes. Luisa said it was probably going to be disappointing, but that she was happy to do something nonscientific for a change. “Not like I’ve gotten any awards for what I’ve been doing. Might as well have fun.” Mark tentatively agreed.

  After a few errands in town, some of which involved theft from the church’s storage unit, they returned to the desert and unloaded the materials from the van. Stephanie had emphasized that any missing elements or errors in the Summoning would make the ritual useless.

  There was also a device that Nilanjana had brought from their trip to the lab. It was a large, bomb-like cartridge containing all of the pesticide she had distilled through her experiments with the bacteria. The device was originally intended to spread pesticide quickly over large fields, but it should work just as well on a giant centipede. She hadn’t told the members of the Joyous Congregation yet. She wasn’t sure how they would take it.

  “Mark,” Nilanjana said, looking at what he was carrying. “No. Why did you bring that?”