by Tobias Wade
KNOCK—the launch through the darkness. There’s no reason for Ender to rise past his knees, or even to keep his eyes open. The collision will be as fast as it is brutal. All that’s human of Ender will die, and all that’s demon in him will live on to celebrate the end of the world.
But where is that final blow? It should have landed by now.
“Hold.”
“Jessica?” Ender’s mouth feels strange around the very name, like an elderly athlete forgetting the motions of his youth.
The monstrous form of Henry is frozen even as it looms over Ender. The cords of its visible muscles are so tight that they look like they’re about to snap. Jessica is standing at the back of the cavern on her own two legs, barely a shadow against the deeper emptiness beyond. That one word is enough to recognize her though. No one else could speak with the voice of an angel and the power of a demon.
“Jessica, you didn’t…”
The roar is deafening. The pressure building in Henry’s suspended animation is boiling over. There’s no way she’ll be able to hold it for long. Any second that distended jaw is going to rip forward and—
“Now bow.”
SLAM—knees collapsing onto the stone with enough force to send the shrapnel spraying into the air. Confused and enraged, the creature still hurls itself toward Ender from its weak position. Ender has enough time to scramble backwards, regaining his footing once more.
“The book, Jessica!” Ender shouts. “Elijah’s hidden it. He’s in the gazebo, you have to—”
“Kneel!” Jessica screams at the struggling abomination.
The war inside the creature is as swift as it is brutal. The mindless fury is sufficient for the creature to lurch back to its feet for only an instant before a horrendous snapping sound permeates the air. The demon howls as though outpouring its soul and crumples to the ground, outstretched and prone. The howl dwindles to a high-pitched whimper, then to seething silence. Ender stares with incomprehension for several seconds before he notices how frayed and loose the monster’s muscle hangs around its legs. Like a skein of yarn cut open. The conflicting pressure from the instinct to charge and Jessica’s domination was sufficient to shatter the bones in the creature’s legs. Ender thinks he can even see shards of one of the splintered kneecaps poking out from that tangled mass of suffering.
“Dad?”
Ender stiffens against the word. She’s drawing closer to him across the cavern, picking her way through the uneven terrain so gracefully that she might as well be floating.
“Are you okay, Dad? Hold on.”
Ender isn’t okay. His mind is embedded so deeply that he can barely sense his surroundings. All sounds are only an echo of themselves, all sights a barely opaque reflection. There are thoughts in his head that are not his own, but they’re so seamlessly intermingled with his mind that he can’t tell them apart. Whoever Ender used to be doesn’t exist anymore, and the closer Jessica grows, the more he’s sure that he never existed at all. Every instant of his life has been choreographed by someone else, and every decision he’s ever made has been in service to their inscrutable goal. That’s how it feels, anyway.
“Stay away from me,” Ender replies, backing himself against the dilapidated wall of a crumbling structure. “Where is Jessica? Where is my daughter?”
“What are you talking about? It’s me. I’ve come to take you home, Dad.”
Only once has Ender felt this way before: before the presence of The Beast. The divine spirit grows within the divine flesh, both aspects of The Beast reunited on earth at last.
31
“Where is the book, Elijah?” Ender grabs the shoulders of the slumped figure and shakes vigorously. The pale man swats weakly at the hands, retreating further into himself like a turtle without a shell. “I told you to hide it. Where is it?”
Jessica wasn’t far behind when Ender made for the portal. Is that her now, that stirring behind? No, that must be Henry, still flailing where he’d been dropped. Jessica moves in silence. There won’t be any warning until she steps through the gazebo and corners Ender. He can’t even escape through the portal which demons cannot pass.
“Elijah… Elijah… I don’t know…” the tormented body moans.
Ender puffs a quick sigh of exasperation. “Krisha then. Where did Krisha hide the book?”
“Master, please, have pity on poor Krisha…” The man clutches his knees to his chest and begins to rock in place. Ender has the urge to bury his hand in the fool’s stomach and wrench the answer out of him. Is that his thought though? Is there a difference anymore?
“You want pity? You go through the portal and bring the book back, and you don’t waste time. I can think of nothing less pitiful than leaving you to live as you are.”
“I can’t go. He’s waiting for me, oh no, master please.” Krisha’s wide, helpless eyes search Ender’s face without really seeing him. Whatever he’d found in the other world had ruined this man.
“The Beast is already here. Don’t you understand? The seed is a link—a small portal of its own letting the spirit of a demon into the host. Jessica’s body is of The Beast, and it was his spirit which is growing inside her now.”
Krisha’s eyes blink sluggishly as he tries to process the thought. “The Beast isn’t waiting for me?”
“No. I’m the only one you should be worried about if you don’t do as I say.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Jessica’s soft voice drifts into the room. Ender spins, crouched defensively as she enters. “Even if he was brave enough to go through the portal, he’d never return with it.” She sits down cross-legged on the tile floor, but Ender doesn’t drop his guard for a moment. “Here’s what’s really going to happen: we sit and wait. Wait for the seed to finish growing within me, wait for The Beast to take control. We’re the only ones left who can use the book to close the portal, and neither of us can enter the portal to get it.”
Ender reaches for Krisha again, but the man doesn’t look up at the touch. His face is hidden in the nook of his arms, and the soft trembling of his body can be nothing but quiet weeping.
“Will my daughter remember me when The Beast has fully grown?” Ender asks, not quite able to look at her as he does. The silence is excruciating. When he can bear it no longer, he looks up to see her staring at him.
“Will she remember the good parts? The part of me that tried my best. The part that would have moved heaven and earth if it meant keeping her safe. Will she remember anything about me at all? Because I’m not sure I do anymore.”
“I remember that I loved you,” Jessica says. A fleeting grimace crosses her face. Her hands absently trace an area in her stomach where the change is already taking root. “I remember that I loved mom too, but she’s so far away now. I think I’m going to forget soon.”
“You can pass the seed on!” Ender exclaims. “Before it goes too deep, you can—”
She shakes her head, hand clutching at her stomach. “The Beast is holding on so tight, he won’t ever let me go.”
Ender stands, pacing in agitation. “There’s got to be something. Maybe if I let my human vessel die here, the demon will go back to the other side and it can—”
“Let it go. Don’t waste our last moment with —”
“Or if Dantes and the others find The Beast’s vessel before—”
“Stop it. This isn’t about fixing things this time. I just need you to be here with me when it happens.” The crack in her voice is all too human. “I just need you not to leave again.”
Ender hesitates, but only for a moment. His repulsion for The Beast cannot overcome his love for his daughter. He kneels beside her and takes her in his arms, and she buries her face against his chest. He can feel the corruption pulsing beneath her skin, but he holds on all the tighter because of it.
“This isn’t the end,” he whispers. “There’s always another side. Another place. If a soul can endure through what you’ve already passed, it can endure anything. No matter what h
appens to you—no matter what happens to me—the universe is too small to keep us apart.”
“Weak Elijah. Stupid Elijah,” mumbles the pale man. “I can’t—I won’t—but I must—but he’s…”
Jessica starts to speak, but Ender nudges her silent. They both stare at the broken figure as he argues with himself.
“They’re lying. That’s all they ever do. Not again—I can’t go back. But the book—who is going to get the book?”
“Where is it hidden?” Ender asks, his voice barely above a whisper. The intrusion doesn’t seem sufficient to distract the man from his roaring thoughts.
“The Beast will be kind. He was kind to his demon when its host was dying. He sang it songs. He likes songs. He likes music and laughing. He’ll be kind.”
“The book, Elijah,” Ender repeats more forcefully. “That was your name, remember? You know how important the book is.”
“Yes, yes…” his voice trails off. He’s picking at one of his nails. “Right where I left it. Nice and safe. Poor Herman… still trapped inside…”
“Where? Where in the other world?” Jessica can’t contain herself anymore.
“Not in the other world. I left it in the well. I felt The Beast waiting for me on the other side and I didn’t want him to…” Elijah looks up and blinks sluggishly. His brow furrows. He seems to be noticing Jessica for the first time. “Do I know you? There’s something familiar…”
“You can get it then!” Jessica shouts, the frustration boiling over. “You can jump right in and—”
Elijah’s eyes are widening. “I smell him. Where is he? How did he find me?”
“Jessica stop, you’re agitating him,” Ender says.
“Obey your masters,” Jessica insists. “Bring the book back.”
“He’s too fragile. You can’t make him—” Ender protests.
“Now!” Jessica commands.
Elijah’s body has become rigid and stiff. His muscles are straining against themselves. Ender imagines watching them unravel before his eyes, bursting from the strain just as Henry’s had. The man is too weak to resist though, and a moment later he involuntarily lurches to his feet.
“Can’t you see what you’re doing to him?” Ender asks. “He’s barely holding on as it is. You’re going to destroy him.”
Jessica’s face is a snarl. She gestures toward the well, and Elijah takes a shaky step in the direction.
“What about my men? Even if you do close it now, you’re going to trap them all on the other side.”
Jessica’s face tightens. She turns savagely and walks away. Elijah collapses to the ground, heaving for air, spine arched unnaturally as his muscles fight to regain their autonomy. A moment later and she pivots on her heel, hand outstretched toward Elijah again. His muscles spasm and he thrashes on the ground, buckling back and forth like he’s in the throes of a seizure.
“Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong,” Jessica says through gritted teeth. “Tell me I’m a monster, that I’m worse than them. Because you’re right. I’ll do whatever it takes to end this.”
“You’re not a monster,” Ender says quietly. “It’s only The Beast in you that you feel.”
“You’re right.” Jessica pauses. “There’s never been a difference though. I am The Beast, and The Beast is me.”
Elijah struggles to his knees, gasping for breath. He moans like every bone in his body was broken.
“Don’t say that…”
“If it’s not true now, then it will be soon,” she snaps.
Jessica slumps to the ground, pressing her eyes tightly shut.
Elijah glances at her from the corner of his eyes, suddenly springing to his feet as though his injuries were forgotten.
“Jessica, watch out!”
Elijah doesn’t waste his chance. He hurtles out of the gazebo faster than one would have imagined possible for a man of his condition. Ender moves to pursue him, but his own battle seems to have taken its toll on him and he’s slow to react.
“Let him go. We don’t need him,” Jessica says. Her eyes squeeze even tighter, her whole brow furrowing in concentration.
“Who is going to get the book then? We can’t give up now.”
“You are.”
His exasperation is a bitter wind on her face. “Demons can’t go through—” his words cut short. “You’re going to kill my demon vessel. But how?”
Jessica’s eyes flash open. Is it possible to be darker than black? What once was the color of nothingness, now is nothingness itself. Her eyes are voids, and to stare at them is to be devoured by its infinite hunger. Ender shudders and turns away.
“The Beast wills it, and no demon may disobey the word of its master,” Jessica hisses, her voice cold and alien to her father’s ears.
The looming cliff of bodies was disturbing from a distance. It’s nauseating up close. Throughout the approach, a slight vibration in the air had materialized into an omnipresent moaning. The wall of noise is so low that it seeps into the ground, its reverberations felt more than heard. Untold millions of voices strung together in an unholy harmonic keep the soldiers company, and none have the stomach to add their own voices to the chorus until they arrive.
The tower offers no more clues. No doors, no windows, not even chinks in the mortar. It’s a column of pure, continuous, white stone.
“So we just take a knife then… is that it?” Jordan croaks. He coughs to clear his airway, but the voice which continues sounds just as choked. “It’ll be a mercy to them. If I was alive like that… well that’s not really living, is it?”
“I don’t understand,” Jacques says. “If he has an army like this, why isn’t he using it? What are they all doing just piled up like this?”
“He is using them,” Dantes replies. “Their spirits anyway. That’s what the seeds are, yes? A million souls ready to be sewn across the world. Or across every world, if there are more...”
His words don’t seem to end so much as they’re absorbed into the greater hum of noise. The soldiers stare helplessly at the enormity of the cliff. At the countless living eyes watching their every move.
“We can start by searching the ground layer and walk the perimeter…” Jordan’s voice trails off. How many miles long was the cliff? How many years might it take clambering over that wall of bodies to find the right vessels, if they were even here? And if it wasn’t just the surface and these things were packed all the way into the mountains? He shakes his head.
A slow grin begins to creep across Dantes’ face. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Didn’t Krisha say that The Beast took care of Mackenzie’s vessel after we shot her? He couldn’t have done that if the vessel was lost in a mountain.”
“Oh great, so let’s just go ask The Beast then, should we?” Jacques asks.
Dantes is staring over Jacques’ shoulder. The grin has fully emerged now. Jacques turns to trace his line of sight to the tower, and the hole at its base which hadn’t been there a few moments before.
“God damn it, Krisha,” Jordan grunts. “If he hadn’t run off, he’d be able to show us what to do here. God damn us all.”
“I think we already know what to do,” Dantes says, staring at the darkness within the tower. “It’s just easier to follow orders than trust our own decisions.”
“Go ahead then, Captain. What’s the order?” Jordan asks.
“Are you talking to him, or to me?” a voice replies. Ender’s voice. Standing in the doorway of the tower is a statue of the man, such a perfect replica that it could have been a full body mold. Ender’s blue eyes stare out of the white stone, betraying nothing of the mind within.
“Don’t let it talk!” Jordan shouts, barreling toward the static figure.
“Jordan, wait!” Dantes snaps.
“Are you going to listen to him over me?” Ender’s statue asks in a bemused voice.
Jordan hesitates, but only for a moment. “Is that what you said in Azgangi?” he asks. “No, you shot Ramose because you knew nothing go
od could come from letting it seduce you.”
Dantes lunges after Jordan to hold him back. Jacques intercepts, his shoulder slamming into Dantes and spinning him to the ground.
“Sorry, Captain,” Jordan says. It isn’t clear who he’s addressing. Perhaps he doesn’t even know himself as he drives his knife into the statue’s heart.
His charge came with enough force to shatter stone, but to his surprise the creature’s skin is soft and yielding to the blade. The absence of resistance causes him to overbalance and topple, both tumbling inside the tower.
“Thank you, master…” groans Ender’s voice, the pitch spiking suddenly as though the word is being ripped from it rather than spoken.
Dantes is scrambling to his feet. Jacques offers a hand to help him up, but he slaps it away with disdain.
“Look what you’ve done!” he shouts.
“That’s what we came to do,” Jacques protests.
“Not like this.”
“That wasn’t our captain, boy,” Jordan says. “Get ahold of yourself.”
“Why would he be standing there?” Dantes shouts. “Why would he offer himself to us, unless that’s exactly what The Beast wanted?”
The other two exchange guilty glances. Neither have an answer to that troubling thought.
32
Jessica watches her father slump to the ground like a puppet with severed strings. He’s exhaling a darkness with every breath as though his insides are evaporating. Black clouds pool like mist around him. He even seems to be shrinking slightly as the tendrils within withdraw their touch. His skin is growing smoother and paler. The burns and corruption are growing fainter by the second. His eyes are closed, but they seem smaller too, more human.