Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1) (20 page)

Finn
was trapped in a nightmare.

Every time he felt that he was going to
escape, every time he thought he was going to wake up, he would start to feel
the pain, the ever-increasing pain. As soon as the pain started to plateau he
would become aware of a shrill beeping, then the blurry image of someone
leaning over him, followed by a soft push back into oblivion and his dreams of beautiful,
monstrous figures ripping him apart.

Eventually he figured out that he was in a
hospital under heavy sedation. He felt that this should disturb him, but it
didn’t; it just felt remote. It did not seem to have any impact on him.

Must be the drugs, he thought to himself.

As time passed, he started to take more
notice of his surroundings. Occasionally, there would be a familiar person
sitting by the side of his bed. They often tried to talk to him, but he could
not really understand what they were saying.

Then one day he woke to see a man with a
wide face and slightly protuberant eyes sitting by his bedside and staring out
the window. His hair was dark brown, but it was lightened by flakes of dandruff
that had also migrated to the shoulders of his brown sweater, the pixie dust of
a diseased scalp. He felt he knew this person and knew him well.

The man turned from the window and saw he
was awake. He leaned forward. “Alright, pal, can you hear me? Do you know who I
am?”

It was Jonni. He remembered Jonni Brown was
his best friend. Jonni was closer to him than anyone, well anyone other than …

His mind froze for a second. He did not
want to finish the thought. He would not finish the thought. For all the pain
he was in, it was nothing compared to what he would feel if he finished the
thought.

“Do you know what happened to her? Do you
know what happened to Bex?” Jonni asked.

An avalanche of fear and horror washed over
him.

It all came back to him.

He started to struggle, trying to sit up.
His mouth was working but no sound came out. Jonni leaned forward with a look
of concern on his face. He turned towards the door and called out, “Nurse!”

Finn was stuttering, “Rrrr, Rrrr.”

Jonni said, “Calm down, pal, you’re going
to hurt yourself. The nurse is coming.”

Finally Finn managed to cry out, “Bex, Bex,
Bex.” His voice was not more than a pitiful croak. The pain was encroaching on
him as he flailed. The background beeps from the machinery around him were
becoming more strident.

Jonni turned towards the door and called
for the nurse again. When he turned back he said, “Do you know where she is?
Bex, I mean … do you know what happened? The police have been looking for her.
No one has seen her.” He did not finish his sentence.

The nurse entered the room with a syringe
and started to fiddle with the IV.

Finn looked into Jonni’s eyes and croaked
out as clearly as he could, “Monsters.”

“What? Monsters? Is that what you said?”
said Jonni.

Finn tried to nod. He could sense the
downward pressure on his consciousness. He fought the drugs in a desperate
attempt to make Jonni understand. He croaked out, “Monsters took her.”

Jonni’s surprised expression was the last
thing he saw when he lost consciousness.

The next time he woke up he found Mara
Novak sitting beside him reading a book. He could not see the title. He
remembered seeing her sitting there a couple of times during his pain- and drug-induced
fugue.

He tried to speak and failed. His struggles
attracted her attention and she closed her book. Keeping her place with her
index finger, she leaned forward a little.

“Hello, Finn. Welcome back,” she said. “I’m
the one who found you in the surf. You gave me quite a fright, I must tell you.
You were quite a sight. Still are, if I may be so bold as to say. I didn’t even
know it was you that I found until they told me.”

He looked at her, not really understanding.

She continued, “Ah yes, not really my place
to explain this to you. Suffice it to say that you have a long recovery ahead
of you. I have been coming to visit you over the past month. I was curious on
how you managed to get in such a predicament. The police are so closemouthed.”
She leaned further forward and lowered her voice some more even though the room
was empty. “I think they are not saying anything because they do not know what
is going on. In any case, call me an old busybody, but I wanted to see how this
all turned out.”

Finn’s head was spinning. A month, she said
a month. What was wrong with him? He started to try and sit up.

He was looking as her and he thought he
heard he say, “Oh dear, I shouldn’t have mentioned his injuries,” but her mouth
did not seem to move.

Suddenly a nurse was there again with a
syringe, ready to put him under again. She shot a look at Dr. Novak. As he lost
consciousness he thought he heard the nurse say, “Silly old bint, disturbing
this poor damaged boy,” but again he did not notice her lips moving.

When next he woke, he was alone. There was
a book on the chair that his visitor had been sitting on. He could see its
title now,
The Akashic Chronicle
by H P Blavatsky.

The
palanquin made its way slowly through the crowds.

The Academy was located just outside the
Imperial Quarter that housed the Palace at its heart. The large quadrangle in
front of the Academy was filled with students and their families because it was
Graduation Day, when the Sixth Years moved out. It was also Assessment Day,
when the new boys vied for a spot in the Academy and moved in. It was a day
without classes, it was a day during which all the boys were allowed to spend
some time with their families, as long as they stayed near the ziggurat that
housed the Academy, hence the quad and the streets surrounding the Academy
became a carnival. Hawkers were broadcasting the virtues of their wares
mentally and verbally. Food stall vendors were projecting feelings of hunger
and exuding pungent delectable odors. Entertainers were projecting anxiety or
giddiness or lust, depending on whether they were juggling fire, capering or
whoring. All and sundry were hoping to profit from the goodwill of families
seeing their sons, families celebrating their sons being accepted into the
Academy, families celebrating their son’s graduation and families rewarding
their sons for becoming men.

The carnival meant that Hael’s palanquin
would not make good time to the Emperor’s Palace. People made way, and pedestrians
always made way for people powerful enough to not walk, but the distractions of
the carnival meant that it took people a little more time than normal to notice
the palanquin and make way.

Once through the press of people in the
quad, the foot traffic became less hectic but remained heavy. The humble
palanquin transporting Hael to the palace was forced to stop and start every
couple of minutes to let more gaudy vehicles pass.

The foot traffic was mostly made up of
Guest with a few Feral slaves mixed in amongst them. The buildings were
uniform, two-story blocks made of sandstone. Metal plates beside many of the
doors were a common sight, indicating the nature of the business being
conducted inside. Once they entered the Imperial Quarter proper, most of the
plates identified the buildings as housing ministries or sub-ministries.

Hael spent a particularly long lull,
waiting for a veritable convoy of heavily gilded and jewel-covered chairs to
pass, beside a copper plate that read Ministry of Governmental Organization
followed by the simple circle that was its official sigil. Hael knew that this
was the one of the most powerful branches of government, as it determined which
ministry dealt with each aspect of the government and was sometimes referred to
the Ministry of Ministries or the MoM. It had been created eighteen hundred
years previously, following a particularly excessive period of competition
between the ministries. From what Hael could remember of his history, hundreds
had died in a string of tit for tat murders as two ministerial factions had
tried to usurp each other’s responsibilities. The MoM was critical in making
sure that things did not get out of hand again.

As the arbiter of disputes, the MoM was
extremely powerful, as the other ministries lobbied for it to increase their
realms of responsibility or to turn a blind eye when they felt the need to mete
out revenge on another ministry for some slight. It was an open secret that the
MoM sometimes stoked rivalries if a particular ministry was becoming too
powerful. Ministerial bickering ensured stability; hence, the Minister of
Governmental Organization himself was always appointed directly by the Emperor,
was usually one of his close relatives and was always one of his One Hundred
Companions.

Hael’s thoughts returned to Bral, as the
last covered throne moved on and his forward progression recommenced. He knew
what he needed to do to save his little brother from himself, but that did not
make it any more palatable. It just meant it would take longer for him to
achieve his own personal goals.

His vehicle made good progress towards the
palace for the next half an hour as his seat bobbed along in the wake of the
convoy of heavily jeweled palanquins he had originally been forced to give way
to, until another set of chairs crossed the street between him and his
unofficial escort.

After an hour-long wait within sight of the
palace, Hael decided that being carried around the City by someone was not
quite as exciting as he had hoped. He sent a mental command to the Feral
bearers, who lowered the palanquin to the ground. He inelegantly pulled himself
out of the contraption and started to walk to the palace gate. He was going to
send another command to his bearers, to send them back to the Academy, when he
noticed that they had already lifted the chair, turned around and started to
make their way back to the Academy. Apparently they had been waiting for Hael
to abandon them.

Hael wondered if the journey was part of a
final assessment. Were they testing him to see how long he would stick with
protocol? But, no, he had graduated. In the real world you did not have to
continually prove yourself like you did in the Academy. Did you?

The outer palace gates were massive wrought
iron works of art set into the thick sandstone wall surrounding the Palace
proper. The iron gate depicted a scene of the Enki II casting out Uruk, the
Feral Leader of the Rebellion. The cunningly wrought gate captured a look of
rage on Uruk’s face as he was chained to the boulder that he would ride for
eternity into the Outer Darkness. The look of sad triumph on the face of the
Emperor, indicated that he took no joy in vanquishing the Feral scum. It was a
popular motif in the City and across the Empire, as it was the historical pivot
that gave birth to the current age. Enki II’s victory had been absolute, and the
strongest and most aggressive of the Feral had perished, banished to the Outer
Darkness or been enslaved that day. The Feral that survived had fled to the
wilderness and lived a hard subsistence existence since that day. The Guest
were taught that it had taken the Feral over four millennia for their
population to recover and start to become a nuisance to the City, which,
coincidentally, was about the same time as Emergence, when the Host had first
adopted the Guest.

The gate was obviously Guest work, as the
Host had little interest in working on something as menial as iron. Host left
things like construction, architecture, entertainment, food production and
defense to the Guest. The Host spent their time on more important things, such
as running the ministries, providing guidance to the Guest and, of course,
devising and approving breeding plans for the Guest.

The Guest who worked metal were not allowed
to leave the Ministry of Havoc, to ensure that the secret of metal working
stayed secret. It was a good way to repay the Debt.

Once past the outer gates Hael entered a
wide tunnel through the Palace wall to the inner gates. The tunnel was fifty or
so feet long and twenty wide. The ceiling and walls were dotted with openings
from which defenders, in the case of an assault, could pour burning liquids,
stones or sharp objects on the attackers. The murder holes had never been used
and had been put in place after the Rebellion. Hael seemed to remember they had
been one of the first large projects that the Guest had undertaken after
Emergence. Host had taught Guest the basics of stonework and engineering and
then had let them get on with the work. A generation later the Palace wall had
reached its current impregnable state. Following that project the Host had
engaged in expanding the Legions with a massive Guest breeding project, just in
time to beat back the Feral who had, at the time, started to encroach on the
City’s sphere of influence. Although the Campaigns were constant, the Feral had
not been a real threat to City since the Legions had been formed, and
officially the Legions had never lost a major battle.

There were rumors, treasonous rumors, of
the Lost Legions. Legions that had fallen in battle to the Feral. There were even
wild stories of Feral cities far to the east or in the frozen north. These
rumors were never directly addressed, nor were they tolerated by the Host.

The inner gate was made of two counterweighted
slabs of sandstone. In the center of each door was the personal sigil of
Emperor Enki II, a snake consuming its own tail. The gates were two feet thick
and completely sealed the inner end of the tunnel when closed. They were closed
from sundown to daybreak each night. Once closed, the courtiers were forced to use
the smaller side gates to enter and leave the palace. Hael had heard that each
of the massive main gates could be closed by a single trooper due to the
cleverness of the closing mechanism, another Guest design. Opening the gates
was, of course, much more difficult.

Hael presented his sword and a letter of
introduction at the outer gates and was assigned a trooper escort into the
Palace proper. The Palace was a massive amalgamation of buildings, a small city
in and of itself. Most of the Host lived in the Imperial Quarter, many of them
in the Palace. The Palace was also home to several thousand Guest who were
responsible for keeping the Emperor and the Host happy, informed and
entertained.

The main receiving chamber was located
close to the main gates, so as to reduce the possibility of a visitor
disrupting the routine of the Palace. There were some parts of the Palace that
were only ever seen and used by the Emperor, His family and His closest
servants and advisors, the One Hundred Companions.

Hael’s escort handed him off to a hooded
and heavily cloaked member of the Imperial Bodyguard stationed at the door to
the audience chamber. The cloak was plain black, except for the Emperor’s
circle and lightning sigil embroidered in silver wire over his heart. Imperial
Bodyguards were always made up of Nightfeeders and typically first generation
Nightfeeders, the most powerful type, having been Cursed in one of the City’s
temples. Given some time and effort a Nightfeeder could
turn
one of the
Guest or even a member of the wild tribes to create a less powerful
Nightfeeder. Newly created Nightfeeders would remain obedient to the first
generation Nightfeeder that was their Creator, but they were very rarely as
powerful as their Creator. 

Hael had read an account of a Feral who had
been turned in one of the early Campaigns. Unfortunately the Feral had been too
strong to be held by the Nightfeeder Curse and had broken the bond of
obedience. The resulting unrestrained beast had managed to destroy a third of a
Legion before being annihilated. Since that time Ferals had never been
turned
,
but only been Cursed with Obedience. In rare instances a Feral had broken the
Slavery Curse; however, without the Nightfeeder enhancements they were usually
exterminated without too much mayhem.

Hael brought his thoughts back to the
present as the Bodyguard passed back the letter and preceded him into the
receiving chamber.

The chamber was a huge open space with an arching
ceiling supported by carved stone pillars. At each of the ten pillars a squad
of four more of the Imperial Bodyguard was stationed, keeping a disapproving
eye on the clumps of courtiers spread throughout the hall. At the far end of
the hall sat a rather bored but eminently regal Emperor. The Bone Throne was on
a raised dais and separated from the courtiers by a phalanx of twenty more of
the Imperial Bodyguard. Inside the phalanx were stationed the Emperor’s closest
advisors, representing each of the two current political factions. On the
Emperor’s right was Eligos, Minister of Havoc, on his left was Vassago, the
Minister of Vocations. Eligos was the leader of the progressive Enlightened
faction while Vassago was leader of the conservative Orthodox.

Hael’s new escort led him through the hall
to the Emperor. As he approached he surreptitiously studied the Eternal
Emperor, Enki II. It was bad form to examine Him directly. He looked to be in
his prime of life, not young or old, and His hair was graying slightly at the
temples. He was average height for one of the Host, about five feet tall and
more heavily built than one of the Guest. His crown was a delicate filigree of
gold, platinum and silver that twisted up to support a single diamond the size
of an apricot. The crown was a symbol as well as a tool of power, a Lens. The
noble metals and diamond could be used by the Emperor to enhance the strength
of His mind and to boost His will.

Hael’s escort stopped short of the line of
Nightfeeders, who stepped to the side, leaving a space for Hael to approach the
Emperor more closely. Hael walked through and abased himself on a priceless rug
at the foot of the dais.

His Imperial Majesty, Eternal Emperor Enki
II, Supreme Ruler of City and Empire, Hero of the Rebellion and Scourge of the
Feral:
Ah, so here is this year’s One. We have high expectations for you.
The Emperor broadcast to the entire hall in the formal tense, which included
his titles.

“You flatter me, your Most Eternal Majesty.
I am a worm, beneath your notice.” Hael said the words aloud as well as
broadcast them to the room. Etiquette dictated that Guest speak verbally and
mentally when in court. Verbal speech reminded all that the Guest were still
close to being grunting animals and the mental speech was to ensure that the
Host could follow what was being said.

His Imperial Majesty, Eternal Emperor Enki
II, Supreme Ruler of City and Empire, Hero of the Rebellion and Scourge of the
Feral:
They have trained you well; your manners are couth and your mind is
strong, but are you truly loyal? I wonder?