The Sinner King: Book of Fire

by D. R. Crislip

  Rawling said: "Of course not. That would be ridiculous. We converted an old mining shaft into a transport rail. It's kind of primitive in design and tends to breakdown more often than we like, but ultimately it gets the job done."

  After another five minutes of walking, they arrived at the other end of the seemingly endless shaft. It indeed looked like an old mining station. The walls were crudely carved out and the railway looked like a steel box more than a transport. Rebecca kept her hands tucked inside the jacket pockets, as the temperature down there was very cold. Rawling walked up to the small round woman seated on a stool next to an antique control panel. "This here is Corbin Byrne's daughter. She needs to be transported over as soon as possible."

  The little woman looked at Rebecca with a scrutinizing stare. "Is she authorized? You know the rules Rawling. She has to have clearance. Do you have clearance, deary?"

  Rawling said: "Don't you worry about that. She's Corbin's daughter—that should be all you care about. Now get moving."

  "Yeah, yeah," said the woman, waving her hand, "stop hassling me. Tell her to load up and I'll send her on over."

  Rebecca heard everything and began to walk over to the transport. "Are you coming too?" she asked him.

  "No, I've got to get back to my shop. I'll radio over, however, and let them know you're coming. Someone will meet you on the other end."

  Rebecca didn't like it, but what else could she do? She nodded and continued inside the steel box, which had more dents than not. The inside was not for the claustrophobic. There were worn out padded seats on both sides of the walls with little tear textures and two windows to look out: one in the front and one in the back. It didn't really matter—Rebecca realized as she sat—there wouldn't be anything to see.

  "Are you set?" crackled the short woman's voice over a speaker.

  "Yes," answered Rebecca to the ceiling.

  There was a loud grind and snap of metal outside. Then there was a bang and a sudden jerk that caused her to sway toward the back. The railway began to move uneasily for a bit but then slowly began to smooth out as it picked up speed. "Get comfortable," said the crackling voice loudly. "You have a three hour and twelve minute ride ahead of you."

  "Wonderful," Rebecca replied dryly. It was just what she wanted to hear, another long trip while jammed in a box.

  "We'll lose communication about an hour in," the woman's voice crackled again. "Then there will be nothing for about another hour before you'll be contacted by the controller on the other side."

  "Thank you," said Rebecca. She took off both bags and allowed them to fall to the floor. She was very thankful that whoever engineered the transport had been kind enough to install a lighting system along the ceiling as well as front and rear lights outside the car. Without them, the ride would be a three-hour stint in pitch-blackness. I guess I could always use the d-reader as a light source, Rebecca told herself as she reached into the bag and retrieved it. Thank God I don't have to. The last thing Rebecca ever wanted to do again was sit in total darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The jostling ride was extremely uncomfortable. It pushed and pulled Rebecca in every direction. Her aching body was already tortured enough—this was downright cruel. After twenty minutes of gyrating the ride finally settled. Rebecca was finally able to power on the thin d-reader device and open up the translation. The glow helped illuminate the car. She found where she had left off on the StreamWay. William was being taken to see Theoman:

  *******

  The two men with Hansen came over with plastic bindings and forced my hands behind my back—binding them. I kept rotating my hands as much as possible so that the bindings would be a little loose.

  "Don't bother," said a hard voice from behind. "It won't help you."

  I stopped and allowed my hands to drop down. "Why am I here?"

  The voice behind me didn't respond.

  Hansen walked over and placed the barrel of the gun to my chest. "It's going to be tough for you to escape this time."

  "Greg," I said calmly, "you've made a horrible mistake."

  "Oh? Is that right?" He circled around me. "The man bound thinks I'm the one who made a mistake?"

  "I don't know what Dr. Theoman is paying you but you're throwing your life away."

  Hansen laughed. "It's a little late for that, don't you think? Six months in prison and my military record abolished, all due to a very public termination from my previous well-paying career. Is that the life I'm throwing away?" He then looked at the large masked man beside him and shrugged. "Good riddance, I say. Who the hell wants that life? I have a new one now—a better paying one. And it's all thanks to you Billy Coulee. Do you mind if I call you that? Billy?" Hansen then faced me and landed a well-placed punch onto the left side of my jaw—rattling my brain loose. "I owed you that one Billy," he said with a smile. "It's probably important to know that I always pay people back for the things they do for me."

  My jaw felt like it might have cracked. "It's good to pay it forward." I then spat out some blood droplets from a gash made by my teeth.

  Hansen laughed. I wasn't sure if he found my joke funny or if he was laughing at my audacity. "You know, when he approached me and offered me this job, I almost turned it down. But when he told me that I would get to kill you—well that was an offer I couldn't refuse."

  Hansen looked over to his masked companion and nodded toward something beyond me—Bertók. The man nodded and walked toward him.

  "Leave him alone!" I shouted. "He has nothing to do with anything!"

  "No, no, no," Hansen said from behind, "that's where you're wrong! He wouldn't be here if he weren't invited. And in order to be invited, you must have something to do with everything!"

  I heard footsteps walking toward me.

  "And the two of you, Billy boy, were invited."

  With a sudden jerk, I was weightless. Hansen grabbed the back of my shirt with surprising strength and pulled toward a short stone stairwell that led to a slanted double door that opened upward—kind of like the old cellars used for tornado protection. One of the masked men took the lead and shoved open the doors.

  Eerie dusk sunlight filled the cellar. The stench of stale air rushed in. The sound of crows cawing filled the void. Hansen and the masked man began shoving and pulling again. I went first and Bertók followed. There was a stillness outside that felt unnatural, like all the animals in the world had disappeared. The stale smell turned into the reek of road kill: the nasty stench of death. I couldn't see much in front of me as we walked up the stairs. And then the view outside became fully visible. It was the most horrid sight I had ever seen:

  There were five wooden poles sticking out of the ground, forming a "V" shape directly in front of us. Each pole was roughly ten feet in height. On top of them were horribly decomposed, skewered, human remains.

  *******

  Rebecca stopped reading, disgusted. Who would do something like that? She was positive Minister Theoman had never committed such an atrocity. To literally skewer a human being—flesh and bone—dangling—she cringed at the thought. She skipped over the rest of the details describing the remains and continued from there:

  *******

  I looked around the walled-in yard, covered with crows and white blankets of their droppings, but didn't see him: Dr. Theoman. Other than the impaled bodies, the birds, and the stone wall, there was nothing. Hansen shoved me further through the opening, allowing the other masked man and Bertók to come out. "So where is he?" I asked to no one in particular. "Where's Theoman?"

  Hansen began to laugh. "You don't see him?"

  I looked around again but saw no one other than the five of us. "No. Where in the hell is he?"

  A few crows took off, cawing as they flew.

  Hansen stepped in front of me and shouted out: "Dr. Theoman, raise your hand so William can see you!"

  There was no one in the yard. I knew Hansen was crazy but this was a whole new level. "Are you fucking with me, or are yo
u really this shit-house crazy?"

  Hansen laughed louder and then raised a finger up to one of the skewered remains. I followed his outstretched finger and began to look at the awful face of a decomposed body. Without getting into too much detail, there really wasn't anything left to recognize. "Who is that?"

  It was Bertók who answered. He stepped next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder: "That's Dr. Theoman."

  "What? It can't be . . . I was told that he was still alive." I looked into Bertók's eyes and saw that there was no lie. "But I don't understand . . . Mr. Vermil told me that Dr. Theoman was still alive . . ." I then came to a horrid conclusion, ". . . He was lying to me. Mr. Vermil was lying." I felt the weight of the world come crashing down onto me. "He's the one who—" and then I had another realization: Bertók's hands weren't bound.

  Bertók smiled at me and patted my shoulder. "Actually, William, you're wrong . . . oh, so, wrong."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Bertók joined Hansen and said: "I'm Doctor Charles Theoman."

  *******

  What? Rebecca almost exploded out with; she couldn't believe it.

  *******

  "That's not possible," I said, utterly confused. I had seen a picture of Dr. Theoman and he looked nothing like Bertók. "What in the hell kind of game are you playing?"

  "It's no game, William," Bertók said. He then looked to Hansen and said: "Why don't you and your men leave us alone, so we can chat."

  Hansen looked a little unsure and said: "This creampuff is a little wilier than he looks; are you sure?"

  "He's bound, right? Then there's nothing for me to fear. I'll call if I need help."

  Hansen nodded and then gave me a sharp glare before snapping his fingers at the two masked men and leaving the yard through the cellar doors.

  I didn't know what to say. I think for the very first time in my life, I was speechless.

  "One hell of a shock?" Bertók said, grinning. "Oh, I can only imagine the thoughts running through your mind this very moment. The questions you must have."

  "It was you, the entire time?" I asked.

  Bertók raised a hand to his chin and said: "I don't know how to answer that question. Please elaborate on what you mean by, 'the entire time'."

  "You kidnapped Dr. Theoman and killed him?"

  "Oh! No, Dr. Theoman kidnapped himself. He then kidnapped, Dr. Bertók Horvath."

  "What?" I said, exasperated. "You're not making sense."

  "This is quite confusing, isn't it? Maybe I should try to make things a bit clearer." He pointed up to the supposed body of Dr. Theoman. "That is Dr. Theoman." He then pointed to himself. "This is Dr. Bertók Horvath." He then allowed his hand to fall to his side. "I am neither."

  I didn't know what to say.

  He continued: "My name is Ziusudra, the father of men, the ruler of this world and of the next. Some call me Zius while others call me Zeus—I am the Demigod."

  *******

  "What!" Rebecca shouted out. "Are you kidding me?" Rebecca knew the name well. Everyone knew the name well. Ziusudra, the founder of the Ministry? The savior of The Collective . . . of Ziusudria? A dozen stories flooded her mind, stories taught to her at the Academy, about the legendary Zius. This is blasphemous!

  *******

  I started to look around to see if there was any hope of escape.

  "Hard to believe, isn't it?" he said. "Reality is cold water poured over the unsuspecting—on the sleeping beauty that is mankind. I understand how you feel right now; I do. What you're experiencing is called Shutdown Denial, for obvious reasons. Your brain can't handle the truth, therefore it begins to reject everything, shutting down its ability to accept anything . . . hence the title."

  I realized if I could get my arms out from behind my back, and had a running start, I could possibly reach the top of the wall and pull myself over.

  "You want to escape, I'm sure. Look around . . . these walls are plenty high, and the doors to the house are locked. There's nowhere to go, William. You're stuck out here, with me . . . with Truth."

  "You're crazy."

  "That's the Shutdown Denial speaking. It's okay; get it out of your system."

  "Bertók, wake up! You killed all of these people!"

  "Their souls were freed, William, nothing more. And it wasn't Bertók, remember?"

  "Right, Zeus, I mean."

  "That's the first step into acceptance . . . very good."

  "What do you want from me?"

  Zius sighed. "At this point, I just want your acceptance. You've given me everything else."

  "How so?"

  "Well . . . do you remember the story I told you about Dracula finding his father's documents? There was another part of it that I intentionally left out." He began to stroll between the poles, causing a few crows to take flight. "The problem with entering another human's body—possession as you called it—is that you have all these things cluttering the mind when you arrive. You enter the person's mind with the strictest intentions and then get quickly lost within its own thoughts, feelings, memories, et cetera. The key to combat this confusion is to create something of a map, or a key, that allows you to remember who you really are. When I left Dr. Theoman's body and entered this one, I found myself quickly lost within the insurmountable amount of information Dr. Bertók Horvath had retained. I knew I was Zius—deep down inside—but I was struggling to extract from Bertók's mind the information I needed in order to continue with my mission.

  "As Dr. Theoman, I ran into a dead end. He only knew so much about this region's history and about the Order of the Dragon. I needed an expert."

  "You needed Bertók," I said.

  "Exactly!" he said, smiling again. "You're already beginning to accept." He removed his glasses and began cleaning them on his shirt. "I needed to peel open Bertók's mind, so I had Hansen and his men convince Bertók to join us here. But I found the little man to be quite resilient to my questioning and realized that if I wanted to get what I needed from him, I would have to enter him. But before I left Theoman's body, I recorded a little message for our friends at Project Renew Our History."

  "That's why Mr. Vermil thought Dr. Theoman was still alive."

  "Exactly. Right now, they think Dr. Theoman faked his own death"—Zius patted the pole holding Dr. Theoman's corpse—"when in reality, he died just as they originally thought."

  "You impaled yourself?"

  "Well . . . no, not actually; I drank poison first, and after I took possession of Bertók's body, I ordered Hansen to impale Theoman. So, technically, Theoman was already dead. Freedom through death: the only way to escape these bodies."

  "I helped you figure out where the Book of Thoth is hidden . . . didn't I?"

  "Yes; and I wasn't kidding when I told you that you're a wonderful investigator. I knew after you entered the pyramid that you would be able to help me figure everything out. The ring you found"—he held up the gold ouroboros ring—"this was an exciting bonus. I had hoped you found something, and you did. Everything became crystal clear as we talked. I now realize I need to go to Istanbul, to Süleymaniye Mosque. Recovering Logos will complete phase two of my mission."

  "What's Logos?"

  "Oh, excuse me; you know it as the Book of Thoth, but its real name is Logos, the word of God."

  The conversation was becoming too much for me. I couldn't keep it all straight.

  "So, William, when I recover Logos, I'll have you to thank, as well as for the first phase of my mission, which was to kill Rebecca Badeau."

  *******

  Rebecca stopped right there. Her hands were sweating all over the d-reader. She pulled her eyes from the screen and took in several deep breaths. This can't be real, she told herself over and over again. This can't be real.

  *******

  Rebecca . . . I'm sorry to be sharing all of this with you. I know that it must be unbelievably difficult to accept, but if you're with me this far, you have to keep going. It's imperative that you finish re
ading this entire book. You need to understand your world better if you have any chance at saving it.

  *******

  Rebecca looked at how much further she had to go in the translation and felt her stomach sink. There was a ton left to read. "What more do I have to know?" she said through shaky breaths.

  *******

  I guess it's needless to say that I was irate by Zius's confession.

  "Calm down," he said. "She can't truly die."

  "WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" I shouted angrily, taking steps toward him.

  "It means she'll be reborn someday—and I don't mean in the Christian born-again sense—I mean actually born again."

  "Like reincarnated?!"

  "Yes. What you and she and everyone else failed to realize . . . other than Benjamin Vermil . . . is that she is very powerful and very dangerous. There is literally a galactic struggle for power happening, right now, this very instant, and she has the ability . . . excuse me . . . had the ability, to sway the advantage. Now all I need to do is secure victory by finding Logos."

  I still couldn't believe what he told me: that he had you killed. There was so much emotion flowing through me that instant, it was unbearable. I needed to keep it under control, but I couldn't. I needed to keep him talking; if I had, then a lot of what is to come wouldn't have happened. I said to him: "How did you do it? How did you kill Rebecca?"

  "It wasn't me, per se; it was Hansen. After they recovered the Philistine document that revealed what was inside the Ark of the Covenant, I ordered Hansen to kill Rebecca. You provided the perfect opportunity for them to do the deed without looking guilty."

  "My hotel room."

  "Right. They launched a rocket into the building, igniting some—"

  I threw my head into his chin and knocked him flat onto his back. Anger had overtaken me and Zius was laid out. I kicked his head a couple of times to help ensure that he was down for the count and then sat down onto a pile of crow crap and maneuvered my arms under my butt, pulling my legs through the ring I made with my bound hands. With them in front, I was free to try and grab the top of the wall.

  I ran full speed to the closest wall and leapt upward, trying to reach the top. It took me a few tries but I finally succeeded in getting a grip. Zius started to stir and moan as I pulled myself up and gained leverage with my forearms. I was then able to get a foot on top and swing both legs over.