Banners hung from the expansive entrance, the rich red-gold-purple of His Majesty’s rule. Like everything else that had to with him, this too was grand and imposing. Souls of all life-types climbed the wide stairs into Quadrant Express, on their way to various places to heed various non-courtier callings; lucky buggers. There was only one station in each quadrant and they were all called by the same name. My biggest concern now wasn’t the nomencalture of public transport but the two hundred eighty miles per hour that each train attained; in fact, they made one hundred miles in twelve seconds.
There were gyro-systems and faux-gravity setups under each car so the people inside wouldn’t be shaken like a martini by the time they reached their destination; Mr. Bond won’t like this blend. Yes, I did go to the movies when I was on Earth, I wasn’t a complete loser farmboy. We did have one dingy theatre where people did all sorts of nasty things instead of enjoying a good movie with popcorn in hand instead of something else; I think it’s best to stop recalling the good old days. When I took my life and came to Quadrant City, my carefreedom seemed to have taken a parallel route so it could get as far away from me as possible. Proof lay in the massive train car before me.
I had successfully managed to distract myself but now that the real deal was here, I was worried. “Get in or stay out!” came a voice over a mini-range speaker. A mike near his mouth sprayed his words out for everyone in the grand car to hear. A few meters away a similar voice was at work but it was feminine and much gentler. This man had a beard of weird hair that looked like straw. He was of average height with six arms, five on one side, one on the other. He had no legs or feet, just stumpy thighs and some kind of mechanism that allowed him to float. I couldn’t tell if the plate-like device was attached to him or grew out of him. The cyborg conductor, I later learned, was a Sotrashtrian life-form from the system after the same name. He addressed everyone again with that same boisterous and terribly uncouth line. “Get in or stay out!” I leaped into the train car.
It was like a small ballroom in here. How in darnation can something this gigantic and a whole series of them hooked end-to-end move at the speeds they do everyday, several times a day? It had something to do with the manipulation of gravity so the colossal mass could move against it freely and without punishment of drag. It was above my understanding so I thought it best to leave such discussions to the Science Department who had a finger in everything that went on in Quadrant City. Even though it was my job, I couldn’t understand how so many bright minds had taken their own lives. It was one thing for poor lonely me to do it, but they had brains. Money followed their abilities like homeless strays looking for a roof over their heads. Anyway, to each his own.
I got into the car and there were about eighty or more people in here. There was ample room to move about on three tiers connected by a spiral staircase. Each tier had a thin landing and the walls hosted tightly packed moulds to hold each person in transit. Now that the conductor had arrived in bright yellow, they knew it was time to get going and everyone had positioned themselves before a strap unit. I, who had never been in a train before, had no clue what to do. Amidst angry sneers, shoos and shoves, I managed to climb to the second tier and stand before a unit like everyone else. The landings were perforated and I could see people both above and below me. The windows were broad and clear and it was dim outside, probably the dingy rail station tunnels keeping most of the light out.
From the series of orders the conductor gave and the reactions of the people, I observed how Quadrant Express worked. “Pay up! Show Up! Close Up! Strap Up! Giddy Up!” The people paid to buy their tickets. They stood before a touch-screen console that slid its way across the handrails to position themselves before passengers. If they knew where they were going, they’d touch the designated destination. For those who didn’t know where to go, like me, we could type in a place and the computer suggested the nearest train stop. I typed in ‘Castle Von Heisen’, corrected the typos and saw that there was a mile’s walk between the nearest stop and the chateau. I had no choice but to accept. The conductor played second witness. His console showed all our choices and since he knew the cost of each ticket by heart, he approved it with his card and the required credits rolled from each of our accounts into His Majesty’s Station Depository.
Five of the conductor’s arms shot out past their natural lengths and handed each of us the ticket we paid for. He knew from some code on his console screen where we were positioned. His eyes were fixed on the details the screen showed while his arms distributed tickets from inside his satchel. His sixth arm, the one that stood alone on one side of his body worked the bag filled with tickets, stampers and other objects, including the mini-range loudspeaker battery.
At his next order, all the residents of the car showed their tickets and he passed a scanner over them to verifiy authenticity and date of purchase. The scanner would make a noise if something was awry but so far nobody got into trouble.
His third order was the only one meant solely for the artificial intelligence receptor that passed the message on to the engine car using a binary declaration. Until all the cars were closed the main car wouldn’t move. His fourth order got everybody strapping themselves into the units behind them. I imitated what I saw another passenger do. When someone was strapped in a green light blipped on their units. Once all eighty-something passengers were ready on all three tiers, the gravity-gyro mechanism growled. Now the train could move without incident. The conductor’s suit turned from yellow to green and he shouted the final command that was again transferred to the main car. Voice recognition software registered unanimous approval from all conductors and with a swoosh and a roar, the train shot out of the tunnel.
I didn’t know if it actually made one hundred miles in twelve seconds but my stomach was in my head, my heart was in my throat, my shins ran away with my knees, my hands tingled, my neck wobbled and my hair stood on end.
It would be twenty or so minutes of this torture. I couldn’t stand it. Each time the train stopped and people got out, more got in and the conductor went “Pay up! Show Up! Close Up! Strap Up! Giddy Up!” the only thing on my mind was the giddy up part, when the gyro-grav motors would roar and the engine would growl, the binary messages registered and the whole darn thing shot out again. I thought I’ll come out looking like an entirely new life-form. This wasn’t speed, this was a disaster waiting to happen. I exited at a wilderness. There was silence in the air and thick trees all around.
I was more than glad to get out of that sensibility-defying contraption of doom. This is why I hate speed, because it’s so fast. I felt someone had put my whole afterlife in fast-forward. I had gotten out of my straps and out the train car before anyone else did. Then again, I was the only one off at this stop. I was so mad at the train for scaring every ounce of courage I had inside me that I simply had to get even. The only way I knew how was to wave good riddance to the thing as it left the station. The cars roared, the engine growled and it shot out of there so fast it made my fingers and toes tingle.
“Damn Quadrant Express! I’ll be dead before I use you again.”
I had to maneuver a slope to get to the dirt path I remembered the cabby taking. It went through the woods and curved its way to the Von Heisen estate. I had a mile’s walk ahead of me, and it was lunch time. The sun was searing hot, and I was starving. But all thoughts of food, even memories of feasting at the Von Heisens, left my mind when I walked through the woods. I slid off the path and traced the shallow border of trees beside the way. It was so silent and peaceful. I wish I could spend my entire afterlife here. I had no need to worry about wild animals because Quadrant City hadn’t any. There were the trees, other vegetation and us. Of course they maintained vast farms where chickens, cows, pigs, goats and other edible animals were brought in from other dimensions, fleshified and cleaned at the Edible Animal Cultivation Center and used before the 24-7 timer ran out. After a day, all animal souls ceased to exist in the city.
I wondered h
ow horses alone could live past the 24-hour restriction placed on animal-life in this dimension. Strange... When rats, roaches and mosquitoes have adapted to live, reproduce and die in a day, and all other animals are affected by the dimensional-law, horses get a free pass. Well, they are useful for transportation. I don’t remember who said this to me, but King Death is rumored to favor horses for some reason, although he’s never made an official statement to that effect.
I couldn’t help but realize that even though we paid money, credits in this case, to buy those animals for meat or milk those very animals lived without paying. In fact, all of existence except for us civilized life-forms lived a balanced take-what-you-need existence without any need to create a monetary system to run their lives and get into debt. Greed, that’s what I believe is the cause. Greed is what made us so called top-o-the-food-chain life-forms adopt money. People wanted more, they were never happy with what they had. Others took advantage of this need for more and the destructive cycle flew on the wings of paper money and not a small amount of change. Even though they’d created money to curb greed, people wanted more money. It beat the purpose, crushed the whole idea of order and decorum, and threw a good notion into a savage, corrupt, secretive, bribe-filled, kill-or-be-killed world that ran more on money than life. I wouldn’t be surprised if people chose cash over food to survive. Then again, you needed cash to buy food.
I kicked a pebble out of the way and touched each tree as I walked. “Helidon, Helidon, what are we going to do with our afterlife?” I felt so peaceful here, part of me wanted to run into the woods and be lost. What awaited me back in Quadrant City was stress, pressure, haste, more pressure, deadlines, projects, demands, responsibilities, extra pressure, debts, and the godfather of all bosses whom everyone hated but everyone feared enough not to rebel against. I wondered why I even took my life. Couldn’t someone have told me this is what awaited me in the dang afterlife? Here I thought I’ll take my chances in my next reincarnation and what do I end up as but the Reincarnator in His Majesty’s court. King Death... Would that I had not lived to see the day I’d end up serving him.
I remember reading about cults of Death worshippers back on Earth who assumed serving an entity that was the opponent of life would make all their worldly problems seem small in comparison. They worshipped Death when they really wanted Death to serve them. Bad idea, they have no inkling about His Majesty. He hated such things. I remember King Death telling the courtiers, myself included, that ‘action was worship and worship was action. If you can’t prove your promises through deed or hold true to your word, you have committed two sins, laziness and lying. I admit there are advantages to both those traits, but not for my courtiers, not in my court. Now get out and get back to paperwork.’
I saw the road curve ahead. I climbed the slope back onto the path. It would be a few more minutes, I remembered from my cab ride, for me to reach the imposing gate that led to the castle. I took the turn and there was the gate, with those horrendous but detailed gargoyle sculptures, the trellis seemed to have been polished and it had thicker vines growing in and around its design. And there, for all to see, was a huge lock. ‘Try and get in, I dare you’, it seemed to say. Even if I had an ace lockpick with me I wouldn’t ask to go in there, only out. But business was business. I had to confirm Boremasta’s involvement with the Von Heisens in a political coup against His Majesty. This, as Natalew suggested, was the simplest means to begin my case.
I followed the gigantic stone and brick wall down the slope, into the woods and beyond. There had to be a side entrance or a back way for all those servants I recall seeing in the kitchens, not to forget the castle staff. The gate could be somewhere on this stretch of wall or the other. Seeing as how I can’t split into two sentient organisms like some life-forms I know, I kept my fingers crossed as I chose the right wall and followed it into the trees. Before long, I heard a strange singing. No music accompanied it but it sounded sweet and enchanting. It must be one of the servants on the other end of the wall hanging the laundry or something. I shouted to her, “Hey! This is your Reincarnator speaking. The gate is padlocked. I was wondering if you could help me get in through the servants’ entrance, er, s’il vous plait.” I knew most of the staff were French so I thought a ‘please’ could go a long way, although badly pronounced.
There was no answer. The singing had stopped, though. I walked a few more yards assuming the girl had gone to call someone. Who in their right minds would walk up to the Von Heisens and insist on coming in. The singing started again and this time it came from the forest. I must be closer to the gate than I’d thought. “Hey! If there’s anyone there, can you please assist me? I need to see the Baron and Baroness Von Heisen on unannounced business. I’m afraid any further delay won’t do. S’il vous plait.” The singing continued but the tune had changed. I stomped into the woods, where I realized the singing came, to find a woman who thought she could hold up government matters. She can’t hum her way out of this. “Madam, you’d best show yourself. I demand an explanation for this treatment. If you can sing, you can hear. If you can hear, then you must have heard me shouting. I know you might dislike courtiers, especially me, but that doesn’t give you the right to ignore me when I’m here on—”
I had walked into a clearing and there in a fall of sunrays danced the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was human but more than that it seemed. I don’t know how she managed to sing in some strange language and dance at the same time without gasping for breath or getting a note wrong. It was like watching kung fu without a weapon involved. Her dress moved like the breeze and her hair flowed like water. Her movements were swift at times and slow at others. She redefined elegance as she moved. Her song and dance captured my every sense. Before I knew it I was sitting on the grass, chin in palm, and admiring her art. This was beyond beautiful, it held supernatural meaning. She herself was so lost in her steps that she hadn’t noticed me at all, not even my shouting. She had her eyes closed the entire time and everything outside the clearing could well have been in another dimension. Now that her dance came to a gradual end, she looked up and her eyes met mine.
She didn’y seemd fazed that she had a secret admirer who was no longer a secret. She had the greenest most cat-like eyes I’d ever seen. She got up from her concluding position and put on a coat that hung from a tree. Before she disappeared into the woods, she turned to give me a look that said ‘follow me’. I certainly did. It wasn’t long before we came across a large house. Spatially speaking, it fell well within the Von Heisen estate. Somehow it had none of the dire richness of the castle I’d visited a few days ago. It was homelier, simpler but lush in carpeting, embroidery and a distinctly scented ambience. The girl held the door open for me. I walked into the house. She walked back toward the chateau.
The lights were mild and inviting in here and what looked like a woman—because of her dress—came to receive me. When she spoke, it sounded like a man. I guessed she was either a eunuch or a crossdresser; either way s/he was human. “Welcome to Madam Plaisir’s Parlor. His Majesty would like a word.” E shook hands for no apparent reason.
I was of course shocked witless. One, I’d walked into a brothel set on the Von Heisen estate. Two, King Death was here and wanted to see me. None of this made sense. Like a puppet, I went along with every pull of the string. How could an entity I knew who disliked female beings from any life-system being ordained as courtiers spend time in a brothel? It didn’t make much sense to me but then again he was King and every King had his needs. I was beginning to get the feeling that His Majesty had voracious appetites.
“Helidon!” That alarming voice. It always took me off guard. “Get in here!” I did, I did, I fast walked my way into an immense, er, boudoir. As silk and satin fabrics covered the walls, windows and showpieces, fuzzy carpets spread their reign across the floors. There were divans, cushions by the loads, pillows, tassels, shiny gold and crystal ornaments and diamond showpieces. It was a brothel, from sights to scents.
I must admit it was amazing to be in such a forbidden place and take in the sinfully thick atmosphere. Back on Earth I’d—how do I put it without sounding like a starved addict—always wanted to go but never been.
“I see you have finally discovered yet another wonderful aspect of Quadrant City.” He still sounded aggressive to me but there was an undertone in Death’s words that made it seem like he was—I can’t believe I’m saying this—relaxed.
“I wasn’t told, Your Majesty,” I mustered and tried to keep my eyes off everything, especially the bold and odd sight of a winged hoofed being of his height and features lying back against a sea of cushions on a gigantic bed.
“Ignorance. That’s what you’re good at, Helidon. Nobody will tell you about these things or anything else for that matter. You’ve to find them out yourself. Every one of the courtiers, even your assistant, has heard the name Madame Plaisir and of this wonderful establishment. Not all of them could afford to come here. Why, even the Von Heisens were kind enough to make room on their estate for the parlor so they too can partake of its many pleasures.”
“I see that even in an afterlife dimension, one profession still carries on with high demand.”
“What was that?” asked His Majesty. I meant to say the words inside my head but ended up muttering them. “Never mind. I’d like to know what my Reincarnator is doing here when he has urgent matters of State to attend to.”
“I came to see the Von Heisens, Your Majesty. I had to confirm certain leads I’d received about them so I could better formulate a strategy to resolve the whole reincarnation business for Quadrant City.” I made sure nobody else was in the room, because these were government matters and I knew how His Majesty hated privacy breaches, more so when it came to court matters. A brothel was a hub for gossip. If anywhere, here the walls did indeed have eyes and the floors ears. Although who’d dare eavesdrop on King Death I couldn’t tell.
Long Live Death: Welcome To The Afterlife Page 9