The Sons of Heaven (17 page)

“I look nothing like you or any other immortal I’ve ever met,” said Hearst. “You all blend in, you don’t stand out. Unlike me.”

“Yeah. You’ve hit the nail on the head, as usual, Mr. Hearst. See—the Company conducted some breeding experiments a long time ago,” said Joseph.

“How long ago?”

“Oh, before I was even born.” Joseph looked uncomfortable.

“But you’re over twenty thousand years old!”

“Yeah,” said Joseph, bending down to pick up a piece of driftwood. “Wow, look at this, it’s shaped exactly like a duck. Neat, huh? Yeah. This was way back when Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons were running around. The human gene pool had a lot more options in those days. The Company was just getting its field operations up and running. But it had a little problem.

“There was this nutty religious movement that got started among the mortals. It was really fanatic and violent, okay? And anti-technological, too, I might add. They didn’t think much of the invention of fire, and something like a Clovis point would have really outraged them. They wanted to keep the universe simple.

“Anyway—here the Company was, waiting for human civilization to get started, and it didn’t look like it was ever going to do that, thanks to these tattooed murdering loonies, who called themselves the Great Goat Cult. So … Dr. Zeus decided to fight fire with fire.”

“What do you mean?”

“They needed soldiers,” said Joseph wearily. “We Preservers were no good for the job. We’re programmed to avoid dangers at all costs. So the Company set up this huge breeding program. They crossed Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon, and a couple of other races who didn’t make it into the fossil record. When they got the results they wanted they took the children away—they only took males—and made them immortal warriors. They called them Enforcers.”

“Are you saying that’s what I was made from?”

“Yeah.” Joseph looked up at Hearst, turning the bit of driftwood in his hands. “And it shows. You believe absolutely in everything you do. You’re big, you’re powerful, and … “Joseph cast about for a better word than
frightening
. “Something about your appearance impresses people. You must have noticed.”

“All my life,” said Hearst. “Do I look like an Enforcer?”

Joseph shook his head. “You still look like a human being, Mr. Hearst. There’s some resemblance around the eyes, maybe. And your voice! They were all tenors and countertenors, because of the way their larynxes were positioned. You inherited that.”

“I notice you’re using past tense,” said Hearst.

Joseph nodded. “The Company doublecrossed them, same as it’s doing to its Preservers now. Out of three thousand men, only two officers escaped the purge, one of ‘em because the Company put him to work in a secret place, doing stuff they thought nobody’d ever see.”

Hearst’s eyes widened. “Do you mean the Bureau of Punitive Medicine? Marco was an Enforcer?”

“Yeah.”

“But he’s evil!”

Joseph tossed the piece of driftwood away. “Mr. Hearst… the devil’s in Hell, punishing sinners God sent there because God wants them punished. That’s the devil’s job, inflicting fire and the worm on all those screaming souls. He’s obeying God’s will, right? So would you say the devil is evil?”

“… Yes! Because he disobeyed God in the first place,” said Hearst a little desperately.

“Marco disobeyed, too,” said Joseph. “That’s why he got stuck with that job at the Bureau. Mind you, he really did like to hurt people, but there was no doubt in his mind he was working in a righteous cause. He escaped just before Suleyman liberated the Bureau. Christ only knows where he found to hide, but I hope I never run into him in a dark alley.”

“I don’t want to have any part of those creatures in my blood,” said Hearst. “Not if they were capable of such things!”

“Oh, they weren’t all like Marco,” said Joseph. “The best of them were heroes. They had a moral code. They served humanity by executing its criminals. As long as the Enforcers were around, there were never going to be wars. Any mortal who tried, died.

“You know how I became immortal? The Great Goat Cult massacred my family. I saw my mother killed, just before an Enforcer patrol came along and caught the Goats in the act. Wiped ‘em out. I looked up and saw my salvation in this big ugly guy, reaching down his bloody hand to me.”

Joseph’s voice was resonant with emotion. For a moment Hearst saw past his absurd costume, and caught a glimpse of the creature centuries had cast up on this strange shore. He cleared his throat. “You said two Enforcers escaped. What became of the other one?”

Joseph smiled. “Oh, he’s still around. The Company couldn’t break him.”

“Was he one of the good Enforcers?” Hearst asked.

“He was the best. The biggest, the smartest, and in fact the very guy who saved my life, which makes him my father, as we’d say, since recruiting new operatives is the only way we reproduce. In a way, he’s your grandfather. You want to meet him?”

“Yes,” said Hearst. But he was not prepared for what happened next.

Ten meters away from where they stood, the hillside moved. Hearst whirled around to stare. He cried out in horror. A massive figure was detaching itself from the landscape, a thing the color of the dun grasses and dead wood and stones; yet it wasn’t transparent, was not wearing camouflage but merely faded dull clothing. He realized it had been sitting there, perfectly motionless, from the beginning of the conversation.

And now it was pacing forward with the steady inexorability of a rolling wave, and Hearst drew back at its approach.

The body looked human enough, though immense; still, there was something wrong in the articulation of the powerful arms. And from the neck up—

Not human at all, no, impossible, the wide head had a flattened shape like a helmet, the wide brow sloped straight back, and the clean-shaven face below
was far too big. Huge broad cheekbones and an enormous domed nose. The mouth had an equine quality, wide and forward-projecting, suggesting immense teeth. The jaw was heavy, powerful, somewhat underslung. The hair, which was the same dun color as the hillside, began far back on the brow and was worn long, bound behind, flowing down the back like a horse’s tail. But there was a human intelligence looking calmly out from under the heavy brow ridges. The eyes were the palest blue Hearst had ever seen, almost colorless.

It walked up and stopped, looking down at Hearst. Hearst fell to his knees, unable to speak, staring transfixed.

“Get up,” said the creature, chuckling. “I wasn’t made to be worshipped. Only feared and obeyed.” It had a soft high voice, the sort of voice you might expect an angel to have, but oddly flat and toneless.

Hearst struggled to his feet at once, his long coat flapping. “My God,” he said shrilly. “What are you?”

“Weren’t you listening to him?” The creature put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “You know what I am. And now, you know what you are.”

“Father, allow me to introduce William Randolph Hearst,” said Joseph. “Mr. Hearst, allow me to introduce my father, Budu.”

“H-hello,” said Hearst. Budu smiled at him. Hearst’s eyes widened. He had never seen teeth that big in his life and the dentition was certainly not human. Joseph laughed.

“Boy, this is really something. Look at the two of you! It isn’t exactly what you’d call a family resemblance and yet, you know, there’s just this indefinable
je ne sais quoi
, a certain titanic quality—”

“Shut up, son,” said Budu.

“Okay.”

“Well, Hearst,” said Budu, “you’ve heard what my son had to tell you. You’ve seen his proof. What do you think of Dr. Zeus Incorporated now?”

Hearst gulped and composed himself in haste. “I—I think they’re treacherous. Evil. Absolute power has corrupted them absolutely. That’s what I think of them. Sir!” he added.

Budu nodded, considering him. “I’m going to punish them,” he said. “They have betrayed the mortal race they created me to serve. The mortals among them will die in blood and flame. They’ll be luckier than the immortals in their number. You have resources I need for this judgment. What will you say if I tell you I require your service?”

Hearst fought the urge to kneel again. “I’d say yes! I mean—yes, yes, I’ll help. What do you need me to do?” he said, and to his dismay felt tears forming in
his eyes. He couldn’t ever remember when he’d been so frightened, and yet so irrationally exhilarated. “Please, sir. Anything.”

“You can solve some of my logistical problems,” said Budu. “I need a troop carrier big enough for three thousand men.”

“Why, I’ve got a superyacht that’ll carry that many,” Hearst said. “The
Oneida Six
. She’s at your disposal, sir, whenever you want her!”

“Thank you,” said Budu.

“And we have to lay our hands on three thousand pairs of pants,” said Joseph. “All triple-X sizes. You own any Mr. Tall or Big clothing outlets?”

“I can arrange clothes. My gosh,” said Hearst, wiping away a tear. He looked from Joseph to Budu. “What are we going to do?”

“Wake the sleepers,” said Budu. “Revive my men, that the Company betrayed. They’re hidden in underground bunkers all over the world. We’ll collect them and mass them to attack, at a certain place on a certain day in 2355. There will be no mercy.” He smiled again. “Afterward, there will be no Company.

“If we survive, we’ll free the ones who’ve disappeared and care for the mortal race again, as we were made to do. The mortals will have safety. They’ll have law. They won’t have free will; but you’ve lived long enough now to know that mortals have no free will anyway.”

He reached out his big hand and set it on Hearst’s shoulder. Hearst trembled, but his voice was joyful as he said: “Yes! You’re right, they don’t really. And the ones who have even a little free will hate it, they hate making choices for themselves. I tried for the longest time to help them, you know, but in the end I just gave up and started ruling them. I think that’s what they’ve wanted all along.”

Budu nodded. “I’ve watched these children of this last age. They’ve grown tame and quiet. We won’t have to kill many of them, I think.”

“Why would we have to kill any?” Hearst said, faltering slightly.

“Because there will always be those mortals who will lure children into bushes to murder them, no matter how enlightened men become,” said Budu patiently. “There will always be cannibals in the midst of plenty. You know this. They must die, so the innocents can live in peace.”

“Oh. Well, yes, of course,” said Hearst. “I see what you’re saying. Like shooting rabid dogs. Unfortunate, but necessary.”

Joseph looked from Hearst to Budu. He cleared his throat. “So, okay,” he said. “We’ve got a lot to do and only eighteen years to do it in. Let’s get organized! We need to figure out a way to work around Quintilius, we need some
secure meeting places, and we really do have to start stockpiling those triple-Xs, okay?”

“Okay,” said Hearst, hugging his coat around himself. Budu glanced upward.

“We need to move first,” he said. “The surveillance satellite will come into range in fifteen minutes.”

“I know where we can go,” said Hearst. “The museum. There’s a porch where we can get under cover. Come on!”

He led the way back to Drake’s Beach, barely able to keep from skipping as he went. Here he was, becoming embroiled in a plot that would, to all intents and purposes, bring about the end of the world as he had known it; and yet he hadn’t felt this light-hearted and giddy since before his mortal father had died. For the first time since attaining eternal youth, he actually felt
young
.

This was going to be fun!

“What possesses mortals,” Victor wondered aloud, “to build castles in the midst of desolation?”

“You don’t like the climate?” Labienus looked surprised. “What a shame.”

Victor looked at him askance. It was true that the air was dry and clean, that the hot wind moved against the skin like an angel on the make; it was true there was an eerie grandeur to the old house lifting its turrets above the drifting sand. But it was nowhere, and even its ghosts had fled the 122-degree heat in terror. “A little extreme for me, I’m afraid,” Victor replied.

“I suppose.” Labienus stepped out on the balcony beside him, surveying the desert with satisfaction. “As for your question, well, isn’t it obvious? They build out of the pernicious mortal desire to vandalize Nature. Marking one’s territory in the most grandiose way possible. Look at this place! A monument to the ego of a cheap little confidence trickster. Only its remoteness has presented it from being vandalized in its turn. One has to say that much for the monkeys: they generally destroy their own eyesores, saving Nature a good deal of work. She’ll have to take this place, though,” he concluded thoughtfully, looking down at the ground floor, where the desert was already coming in through the doors and windows.

Victor thought it was a shame the mansion hadn’t been kept up. It was a beautiful house. The rooms were dim and cool and pleasant.

“In the meanwhile, however, it does make an ideal retreat,” said Labienus, stepping back inside. Victor followed him.

Three of the echoing rooms had been secured and fitted up with communications equipment, as well as some furniture and other conveniences. Labienus paused to consider certain figures moving on a screen before turning back to Victor.

“Well! I know this was a long way for you to come, but I’ve got another job for you,” he said. “I’ve had the most delightful idea.”

Victor did his best to look intrigued. “Pray enlighten me.”

“For the Silence,” Labienus told him. “You know that the others have long since agreed that we’ll need to make a preemptive strike. The last official communication will be sent at eleven hundred hours Pacific time on the morning of 9 July, 2355. Obviously we want to be already in full control by then. We’ll send that last message ourselves, as a smokescreen.”

“Yes, obviously,” said Victor. “We’ll move the night before, I imagine?”

“Of course,” Labienus said. “We’ll hold a dinner party. A Last-Night-of-the-World-As-We-Know-It feast! Full formal dress, and only the cream of the cream invited. An epicurean menu and wine list, something out of the old days.”