Fantasmagoria (35 page)

It was neither a scream nor a bellow nor a roar. It was the thunderclap of a tectonic explosion. It was a tornado wrapped in a hurricane. It was primal. It was godly. It was sheer will made sound.

As it cascaded across the land, the tips of the Serrated Hills—or what was left of them—shattered in its wake. The water of the bay turned as if boiling. Birds fell dead as the sky cracked.

Not a word was uttered, but the message was clear.

This was Kraxus’s planet, and
no one
would destroy it but him.

And then there was silence.

All around the globe, deep in candle-lit holes, murmuring before small shrines, dark-robed acolytes bowed in reverence. The ancient prophecy had been fulfilled. The filth of the world had been burned away. Joyously they sang their ancient hymn and its lasting refrain:

I am the Destroyer.

I am the World-Eater.

I am Kraxus.

I am come.

(THIRTY-EIGHT) The Clock & the Infinite Clockmaker

Jack stood on a pile of rubble and watched Kraxus shuffle into the depths as the sun rose over the Western Sea. The Destroyer was clearly wounded and tired, and Jack had an inkling of how it must feel. He wished the monster-god a long, long . . .
long
vacation.

“You don’t build a plane when all you need is a bicycle.”

Jack turned. “What?”

A white-bearded man in long robes stood next to him in the rubble. He had dark brown skin, like Jack’s, and a bright smile.

He, too, watched the Destroyer’s exit. “This planet was never intended to be self-sustaining. At least, not over eons of isolation, anyway.”

Jack looked around. There was no one else in sight. They were probably all dead. “Who are you?

The man held up his index finger. “And one simple line of code is the reason why things are the way they are.”

Jack waited.

“I cannot overwrite a functioning organism. No matter how despicable a life form it may be, it has a right to choose its own destiny. At least, according to my program. But . . .” He motioned to the wreckage all around them. “After everything’s destroyed . . . Well, they call me the Infinite Clockmaker for a reason.”

“Goyen?”

“You get three wishes, Jack.”

“What?”

“Anything you want. In this world, anyway. My power extends no further.”

“Wishes?” Jack’s brow furrowed. “Look, old man--”

“Don’t be hung up on appearances, Jack. This,” he motioned to himself, “is just a projection. I’m a creation engine. I exist deep below, down at the planet’s core. I built it, in fact.”

“Built what?”

“Fantasmagoria. This entire planet. I gathered matter from the orbit of the sun and transmuted it into everything you see. Of course, that was a long, long time ago. And now you saved it. You were the key. That’s why I made you.”

“Made me?”

Goyen stepped closer. “Did you never think to ask yourself why you’re so different from every other mechanoid on the planet?”

Jack thought. “No.”

Goyen smiled. “Well, I can’t complain. I made you that way. Good, simple Jack.” He slapped Jack on the arm like they were old pals. “I’ll be honest, though. I was getting a little worried there for awhile. Try not to wait so long next time.”

“Next time?” Jack scowled. “Am I supposed to beli--”

“Shut it, Jack. I don’t have all day. Three wishes. Whatever you want.”

Jack looked skeptical.

“Hurry up. People are hurt, dying.”

“Why three?”

“I don’t know. That’s how the Earthpeople do it. Ask them.”

“I don’t know any Earthpeople.”

“That’s probably for the best.” Goyen rested his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You’d probably just end up killing them.”

“Can you”—Jack looked around—“fix the city?”

“I can.”

Jack turned and he was standing at the base of City Hall. But it was no longer a black, menacing spire, like a sword dangling over the people. “It’s white.” He turned round again. “It’s all white.”

Goyen nodded. “I thought it might be time for a change.”

Now the pair stood on the observation deck of the new tower. Jack could see the entire city, the entire island. It was level with the horizon and fixed to the ocean floor. The damage from the battle had not only been repaired, but the entire city had been transformed. White buildings, one after the next, jockeyed for title of most beautiful, competing with parks and open spaces, tree-lined promenades, and crystal terminals of public transportation. But the clear winner was the geyser that erupted from a massive pool at the base of the white tower, and which fed a canal that wound through the city, underneath walkways and hanging gardens, before finding its way to the sea.

“Wow . . .”

“It is an unused design based on Earth literature. I rather like it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“So . . . what next? Two wishes left.”

“Can you change the planet? Make it self-sufficient, like a real planet?”

“It is a real planet. Everything here is as real as anything else in the universe. It’s just not very stable. And yes. I can.” Goyen motioned to the air.

Nothing happened.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Jack paused. Come to think of it, the air did seem thicker, sweeter even. He didn’t need to breathe, but Jack took a deep breath anyway, just for the feel.

“I kept the scars, though, the gouges left by those machines. They’re a good reminder to everyone that you’re not alone. Who knows? Maybe you’ll stop fighting so much. Certainly, with the changes just made, you’ve taken considerable strain off the planet’s natural resources. I can’t give you world peace, but that should certainly help things.” Goyen patted Jack’s arm again. “Well done.”

Jack looked up to the sky. “What if they come back?”

“I’m not sure they will. It’s one thing to bulldoze a planet you think is empty. But now they know we’re here, and we’ll fight. And that might give them pause. I suspect they’ll focus on the other amusement planets, most of which did not survive.” He frowned. “I suppose, in some sense, we should be happy the Earthpeople have such a violent, disgusting mythology. It allowed us to cling to what little we have.” Goyen clutched the air with both hands.

“Are there many planets like this?”

“Hundreds. Perhaps thousands. One for every known sentient race in the universe.”

Jack tried not to think about it. It turned his mind in circles. “What about Kraxus?”

Goyen dropped his smile. “Unfortunately, after his long hibernation, the Kraxus matrix has emerged completely self-sustaining.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kraxus now draws his power directly from the dark energy that permeates this universe. Therefore, theoretically speaking, the entire universe is his battery. I’m quite certain that, if I tried to unmake him, he would blast his way to the planet’s core and rip out my still-beating heart.”

“You have a heart?”

“It’s a figure of speech, Jack. The truth is, Kraxus has become something . . . terrible. And magnificent. I’m afraid you will just have to live with him. One wish left.”

Jack looked down at the severed fingers of his right hand.

“Of course.”

With a shimmer of swirling light, Jack felt his repaired hand clutch his better half. He smiled at Rosa. She looked brand new.

“Hey, I didn’t ask--”

“I know. You weren’t going to wish for yourself, but you deserve it. Besides, I’m not done with you.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“She’s a powerful weapon, Jack. Keep her safe.”

The gunslinger nodded. “I will.”

“Well, that was a lot of work. I need to recharge. I think I might sleep for a few centuries.” He turned and winked. “Try not to trash the planet. I just washed it.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Oh, you never know.” Goyen’s voice disintegrated as he shuffled into oblivion. “I’m always around, here and there.” Then he was gone.

Jack smiled at Rosa, then set her in her holster and looked out across the city. It was beautiful.

“Oh, and Jack?” came a voice in his head. “I interpreted your first wish liberally.”

Jack waited for an explanation, but there was none.

From his perch on the tower, Jack could see the first stirrings of a reborn city. People emerged cautiously from their hiding places and marveled at their surroundings. Many thought they had died and gone to the house of Xueyin the Keeper.

Jack wandered down the staircase that spiraled through the center of the tower and saw a woman sitting on the floor clutching a nonexistent wound, as if she’d just risen from the dead. He helped her to her feet, and she smiled at him, despite the monstrous stitching in his arms.

“Thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She was happy to be alive. Everyone was. Cheers and laughter echoed through the tower as friends and coworkers clasped their hands and found a new faith in life.

A grand marble staircase cascaded like a waterfall from the base of the tower and ended at the geyser pool. Jack stopped and looked at the bursting water, then up at the sky. The seawater boiled during the great battle had gathered into lofty, drifting clouds. They sailed an ocean of sky. Beyond that, a bright and powerful sun.

Jack heard something and stopped.

Galloping.

In the distance, past the erupting geyser, a pure white unicorn was racing toward him. Jack stopped and watched it approach.

It pranced sideways and trotted to a halt in front of him. It whinnied and went up on its hind legs. It shook its billowing mane, and then it shrunk. Hooves gave way to fingers, the mane to a shag of hair, a regal neigh to a grated, diesel voice.

“Ugh!” Vernal wheezed on all fours. “For fuck’s sake, that’s so awful.”

“Glad to see you, too.”

“No,” Vernal coughed. “I’m serious. You have no idea what that’s like. Every time I change, I’m filled with . . .
pleasant thoughts
. Rainbows and puppies and sparkles and shit. It’s a nightmare.” He clutched his forehead to make sure the horn was gone.

“You’re naked. Again.”

Vernal looked down. “Shit.” He stood and covered his crotch as the geyser burst behind him.

“You have no idea what happened, do you?”

Vernal looked around. Something uneasy crept from the shadows of his mind. “Wait . . . how did I get here?”

“Were you really gonna sell me out?”

Vernal scowled. “What?”

“Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.” Jack started walking toward the canal.

Vernal threw his hands up in the air. “Why you gotta go and drag up old wounds?” Then he covered his crotch again.

“Old wounds?” Jack turned. “That was yesterday.”

Vernal walked past Jack and kept on walking to the canal. It was breathtaking, and he put his hands on his waist. He didn’t care he was naked. “It’s a new day, Jack. A new day and a new city. You gotta let go of the past or it’ll control your life. Trust me. I know.”

Jack made a face.

“Look at it.” Vernal raised his arms to the shimmering city. He held them up and wiggled all ten fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” Jack agreed.

“And you know what else?”

“Nope.”

“I bet you there’s not a criminal in it.”

“Besides you.”

“Exactly! That’s my point. This town is ours, Jack. Ripe for the picking! But we gotta work fast before the mainland syndicates move in.”

Jack rolled his eyes and started walking.

“Don’t worry!” Vernal called. “I have a plan.”

Note to the Reader

hello.

This book is contemporary pulp.

It’s gory.

It’s sexual.

It’s a taxonomy of violence.

And through the antagonists, I played with gender in ways that probably won’t endear me to some readers.

In short, it’s supposed to get the blood up.

But before any of that, it’s just supposed to be a darn good story, and I hope you had fun.

If so, you can discover more on my website:

www.RickWayne.com

You can read some free stories or send me a note and tell me how much I suck.

You can sign up for
Serum
, my pseudo-monthly email inoculation.

You can find the soundtrack to this book, galleries of pulp and contemporary art, merchandise, and more.

Check it out.