The Season of Passage

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The Season of Passage Page 38

by Christopher Pike


  'Sweet Lori,' he said. 'You've been a bad girl, very naughty.' He looked down at her with eyes that reminded her of a snake. The pupils were hopelessly out of focus. It was as if he saw her through something other than a human body, through something from the outside. 'I'm afraid the time has come to pay for your sins.'

  He backed off and leaned against a coolant pipe on the opposite side of the room. Except for the light from the receding planet outside the window, which shifted from the floor to the ceiling and back again as the Nova rotated, it was dark. Lauren twisted her head with effort, anxious to keep him in her field of view. She caught sight of an open hand lying on the floor in the doorway. Mark. Gary noted her gaze.

  'I know what you're thinking, Lori,' he said sympathetically. 'You're worried that Mark isn't feeling well. You shouldn't. He's dead, and he's going to remain that way.' He chuckled. 'I had to kill him. It was necessary, and I enjoyed it. I should tell you of the method I used. I put my hand over his mouth, and I dare say he began to have trouble breathing. He turned a pretty blue. Then he woke up and gave me the strangest look. He didn't understand what was going on, even after all we had told him. But I made it clear to him. I removed one of his tubes and helped myself to a little drink. Then he understood. He got all excited. It was a shame he was in no shape to do anything about it. He passed away before I got my fill.' Gary paused and Lauren could see his teeth in the shadows. 'I guess you could say I'm still thirsty, Doc'

  Lauren pressed her hands on the sheet beneath her with the intention of giving herself a hard push so that she could sit up. It was then her wrist brushed against the scalpel in the back pocket of her shorts, wedged between her butt and the sheet. She glanced at Gary, who was now preoccupied with rummaging through his personal locker. Carefully, she began to ease the handle of the blade into her palm.

  He found what he was looking for. He turned and faced her, Dmitri's bottle of wine, in his hand. 'You might wonder why Mark won't be joining the club,' he said.

  'Unfortunately, we don't have enough sacrificial wine for two baptisms. Right now - the shape this corpse is in - I can't spare a drop of my own blood. The wine will have to do, until we reach the Garden.' He grinned. 'Let me find a glass. We'll have a toast, to my manhood, and the pleasure you will give me.'

  'I don't understand,' she whispered. She had the knife out of her pocket, but the blade was pointed the wrong way. She began to slowly rotate. Gary stepped near. He held the lip of the bottle above her bare legs, tilting it at a slight angle. She didn't know what would happen if he poured it on her and she didn't want to find out. 'Don't,' she pleaded. 'Please, don't.'

  He took back the bottle and chuckled. A blast of fetid breath hit her in the face. 'But this is an honor, Lori. It's an honor you've earned. This is the fulfillment of your destiny.'

  Lauren shook her head. She tried to concentrate on the scalpel. She did not believe he could see it on the other side of her leg. 'I didn't make any decision,' she said. 'You can't do this tome.'

  'That is where you are wrong. You did decide, Lori, when you began to kill. First there was Ivan-what a mess-and then Bill.' His grin vanished and was replaced by a look of contempt. 'Commander Bill - that coward. He was afraid of his wife. He let her flee. He ignored his duty. We are better off without him.' His grin returned. 'But then there was the hamburger you made of your friend Jessie. To tell you the truth, she hadn't even joined the club yet. You were a bit trigger-happy when it came to poor Jessie.'

  'You lie.' Could it be true?

  He nodded, reading her thoughts. 'I never lie to those who please me, as you certainly will.' He paused to uncork the bottle with his teeth. He found a glass on a shelf behind him and placed it on the edge of her hibernaculum. He poured out two ounces of sparkling red wine. He continued, 'Your exploits were many, but none marked you for our club as clearly as your treatment of me. I was a sorry sight when I reached the top of the ladder after the wave, what with my broken arm. But there you were waiting for me in the dark, your laser pointed right at my heart. We can only thank God the laser wasn't loaded. And then there was this wine. You had already cut off my arm for your own amusement. One would have thought that would have satisfied your desire for gore. But no, you had to go for the wine, the damn wine.' He hesitated, and when he spoke next a faint sadness entered his voice. 'I trusted you, Lori, that was my decision. I noticed you never drank any of the wine.'

  Lauren felt guilt atop her terror. She relaxed her grip on the scalpel. He spoke of himself as different than Ivan and Bill. The only thing that could have made the difference was the continuing reality of the host's body. In some way, she thought, Gary must still be alive inside the. monster.

  'I was trying to help you,' she said. 'I loved you.' 'Love!' he spoke the word like a curse. Yet he smiled again as he stared at the top of her thighs. 'Yes, love. Tell me how much you love me. I will show you how much I love you.' He placed the bottle on the floor and took hold of the glass. He raised the wine above her face, toying with her fear. 'Don't misunderstand me, Lori. I respect the success you've had in dealing with your foe. Only the strong should survive. I was particularly impressed by the way you handled that insolent computer. It was a feat to be admired. Plus there was the shrewd manner in which you deduced the special nature of this fine beverage. However,

  you are wrong to think this bottle contains Martian water. Nothing so simple. You should have read the book. It was full of clues. How, for instance, does someone like me make a bride? I see I have your interest. We don't drink blood, but offer some of our own. Ivan was very gracious on this point. You'll be amazed to know that he knew you were coming. You see, we've been waiting for you. We've been waiting for the warrior. Of course, you're not Janier, a woman you never had the pleasure of meeting. Yet you are alike in many ways, and every ritual needs a sacrifice to complete the ceremony.'

  He slowly tilted the glass. A solitary drop of wine landed in her hair. It felt horrible beyond belief. A nest of maggots could have begun to crawl over the top of her skull. She shook her head back and forth but the sensation refused to go away.

  He sighed. 'So fine. A splash here and there and a single vigorous copulation and the sacrament will be complete.' He set the glass down and tugged at her shorts, exposing the curve of her hip. 'Love me, Lori.'

  'Stop it!' she screamed. Her tears came, and she began to beg. 'Please, Gary. Don't let them make you do this. Remember who you are. You're my friend.'

  He started to slap her. But he stopped just as his fingers contacted her face. He took back his hand and stared at it, at the tears that had moistened his skin. He blinked twice and for a moment he seemed lost. 'Lori,' he whispered. 'I wanted to tell you not to...'

  He turned away. But not before Lauren saw the glimmer of her old friend in his face. 'Gary, you must remember who you are,' she said.

  'No.'

  'Mars has done this to you, but you can fight it.'

  'No.'

  'You're Gary Wheeler,' she said. 'You're a human being.'

  'Shut up!' He whirled and slapped her face viciously. 'Your friend's gone. You can't bring him back. It was you who murdered him, bitch!'

  The anger gave her reason to hope. Anything was better than his Ivan Zossima grin. 'I didn't know the wine was contaminated,' she said. 'I was trying to help you. You were dying of dehydration. I would have done anything to save you. I love you, Gary.'

  'You can't love me!' His face swung from extremes of hatred and confusion. 'You deserted him. You cast him out. You left him to do this thing.'

  'I never left you, Gary. You have to remember! Remember Jim. Remember how he loved you, how you loved him.' She couldn't stop crying. 'Remember how you felt when Mars killed him.'

  'No!' he shouted. He panted as if he was straining to catch his breath. He was obviously in the grip of an intense internal battle. He tried again to wipe her tears from the back of his hand. 'This is a trick. Jim was a fool! He's gone while I survive!'

  'They've lied to you.
They promise you immortality, but they just kill you and make you walk around dead. Listen to me, Gary, you have to listen to me.'

  In her heart, though, Lauren did not believe he could listen to her, not now. Once more she took hold of the scalpel in her right hand, hidden behind her leg. It was then she decided definitely to use the knife, as soon as he moved a tiny bit closer, a foot even.

  'Lori,' he gasped. He sagged against her hibernaculum. His eyes were no longer blank, but filled with a great weariness. 'I want to breathe, Lori. I can't breathe. They won't let me breathe.'

  'I can help you, Gary.'

  'You can?' he asked pitifully.

  'Yes,' she whispered. 'Listen closely, I'll tell you what to do.'

  He leaned that one foot closer.

  The Antabolene had greatly inhibited her reflexes. The paralysis was similar to the slowness produced by deep sleep, only to a much greater degree. It could, however, be largely overcome by extreme concentration and effort.

  Lauren jerked her arm up through a curved arc aimed directly at his throat. Unfortunately, in her fright, she had forgotten the two plastic tubes that led into her artery shunt. Her attack was interrupted when she cut one of the tubes. Warm blood squirted over her belly and dripped into her crotch. Gary's expression changed from one of profound anguish to one of ravished hunger. His eyes focused on the blood. Lauren took advantage of the distraction to swipe again at him with the scalpel. The tip of the blade was almost to his throat when...

  A cold vise of inhuman strength clamped onto her wrist.

  He squeezed her wrist. A bone cracked.

  The scalpel fell to the floor.

  'No!' she squealed in pain.

  Empty eyes, empty even of hatred, beheld her.

  'Tell me how much you love me.' He tightened his grip. The pain was overwhelming. 'Tell me.'

  'Please,' she whimpered.

  To her surprise, he reduced the pressure. The holes in his head that were his eyes had fastened on the silver ring she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. A sneer touched his lifeless lips. It touched them, but they did not feel it. All feeling had left him. Gary was gone, gone for good.

  'So you think to align yourself with her protection,' he said flatly. 'It's too late for that. You are like Janier. You are a coward. You would have fared better slitting your own throat.'

  He threw her broken wrist aside, making no attempt to remove the ring. The shiny silver band was lost beneath the blood that continued to spill from the sliced tube. Cold despair filled her heart. He was right, she realized. She should have died. There are worse things.

  Yet she still had no idea how much worse.

  He raised the glass of wine. 'You have made your decision, harlot. You lied and reached for the knife. Your faith is hollow as your soul will be.' He smiled thinly. 'I was listening when Mark told you how she killed herself. It is ironic, it is appropriate. We are only actors fulfilling our roles. But she was no actor. Only when you walk through the endless night will you understand who she was. But then, it will be too late.'

  He tilted the glass.

  'Jenny!' Lauren cried. 'Help me!'

  But her cry drowned in agony. The poison fell onto her body and it was as if a wave of parasitic worms had taken hold of her. They filled her pores and dug under her skin and fed on her organs. The wine burned, yet it sent a chill into her bones that no prayer to God could ever warm. Her shorts were torn away, and in the middle of the spilling blood and the torturous wine, the beast crawled on top of her.

  Then the lump began to form inside, and it, too, was cold - cold and sharp, like a sword that had been tempered in a world that had seen a million blistering years of ice and not one soothing day of fire. It stabbed all the way inside her.

  Lauren began to choke, to smother. She gasped upon air that no longer fed life into her blood. Her blood turned to

  ice and the last breath of air left her body. Her heart stopped.

  Then Lauren Wagner died.

  But the agony did not cease.

  BOOK FIVE

  The Harlot

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Excerpts from Jennifer Wagner's Story

  As light filled the eastern sky, Chaneen stood from her meditations. At her feet was the pool of water. The reflecting stars faded as the gods departed. She was alone now. Janier was dead, and the way in which she had died had placed a terrible curse over the future of the children. Even their present existence was still in danger. Chaneen prayed she would be forgiven for what she had to do next.

  She left the pool and walked through the long silent halls of her palace. On the way she passed Pastel, the blind minstrel. He sat fast asleep with his back to a pillar. Chaneen was tempted to wake him, and speak with him about what was happening. But she left him sleeping. He would know soon enough.

  Chaneen strode from the palace and into the forest. The trees and flowers swayed near as she walked by. But her thoughts were turned away from the Garden. She could no longer enjoy its beauty, now that it was close to ending. Soon the leaves on the branches would be left to die, and the flowers would crumble into the dust.

  At the top of the hills that separated the Garden from the ocean, Chaneen turned and gazed westward, toward the mountains and the desert beyond, in the direction in which the Asurians had attacked. Much of that land was now ruined, scorched black from the fires Janier had unleashed, stained with the blood of many warriors. Chaneen knew that in time to come those lands would remain barren. Yet how small

  was the damage Janier had wrought, she thought, compared to what she would now do to Asure.

  Close to sunrise found Chaneen on the sandy beach that lay between the hills and the ocean. There she walked with the memory of Rankar walking by her side, the waves splashing her bare feet. Looking across the sea, she could see the great continents of land that would one day rise from the depths of the water, land her children would one day live upon. Even without the curse, she knew their trials would be great.

  Chaneen sighed. The time had come.

  As the sun peeked over the edge of her world, Chaneen closed her eyes and raised her arms out from her sides. She held her robe open, and like a net from the gods, it caught the radiance and channeled it into her body. Slowly her physical form began to dissolve, expanding over the gentle wave that was the sun's rays. Easily, she allowed herself to be blown into the void, through the vast dark space where the stars shone forever, until at last she came to Asure. By this time her form was huge, dwarfing even that of the Fire Messenger. Indeed, she could blot out Kratine's entire kingdom merely by raising her arm. But for a long time she drifted above the world, feeling pain that she would be the cause of such great destruction. However, she remembered the god's command, and the anguish of her sister's torment. What she would do next was necessary.

  It was during their last night together that Rankar had revealed the power she would now use. No longer was she simply going to invoke the Fire Messenger. Kratine had violated the natural order. His lands would burn. She was going to call upon the sun itself.

  Chaneen raised her hand and set her intention in motion. The entire alliance of the gods stood nearby in support. A great and fearful flame leapt from the surface of the Sun. It stormed across the abyss, passing through her nebulous body, and struck Asure. The destruction was accomplished in a moment, the planet was ruined. Now Asure was burned red, and its air was gone. The Asurians were all dead. She knew that nothing would ever grow there again, and it made her sad.

  Yet there was one place that had escaped the wrath of the Sun, a place

  far underground, in the cavern where Janier had been raped. In that hideous place, she knew Kratine waited for her.

  Chaneen allowed her etheric body to sink beneath the burning surface of Asure. It was only when she stood upon Kratine's black altar that she took up her physical form.

  He sat alone on his black throne, his jeweled crown weighing heavily on his false human head. Over his shoulders he wore a purple c
loak. A gold girdle covered his midsection. He smiled as she materialized beside the pit where her sister had been drowned. Then he stood and approached, bowing low at her feet.

  I see you brought the fire,' he said reverently. 'The heart of the worlds. I am honored by your visit, Chaneen.'

  She silently indicated he should stand. When their eyes met, he flinched, and spoke hastily, 'But you stand in my land now, Queen, where I cannot be threatened.'

  'Have I ever threatened you, Kratine?' she asked.

  'Yes. You have destroyed my world.'

  'Your land is dead, 'she agreed. 'But that was your doing, not mine.'

  Kratine did not understand. For all his cleverness, he was remarkably blind. 'I knew when I met you in your palace that you were a worthy adversary. But I am at a loss as to why you didn't invoke your full power earlier?'

  'For what purpose?'

  'To destroy us, of course.'

  Chaneen turned away from him and stepped to the edge of the molten pool where even now she could feel how the spirit of her sister continued in torment.

  ''That was never my purpose, Kratine,' she said softly.

  He smiled at her back, his arrogance returning. 'Your warriors are all dead.' He moved a step closer. He wanted to shove her in, but he knew she would strike him down first. 'You hesitated, Chaneen. You underestimated the boldness of my attack.'

  Chaneen faced him. 'The boldness of your attack brought the fire down upon your world, where it otherwise would never have come. I am a guardian of the natural order. I did not want to ruin jour lands. This power that you admire in me was thrust upon me. I did not wish for it. But I did not come here to speak to you of powers and battles. They are done with. I have come to make you answer for Janier.'

  He was wary. 'What do you want?'

 

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