Whatever Gods May Be (47 page)

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Authors: George P. Saunders

BOOK: Whatever Gods May Be
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"Our fault, Zolan.  Mine more than yours probably.  But we're about to redeem ourselves, thanks to Valry."

Zolan whispered more to himself than to the Rover as he closed his eyes and wept.  "How?"

"The Hall is much more than we understand it to be, Zolan.  It is literally a probe into the very guts of our universe, as well as all adjacent, parallel and opposite universes.  One might call it the right hand of God.  It is a benevolent creation; a kind of intricate circulatory system to all existence.  But now it has been transformed into a weapon.  Evil has taken over, and would use it to bridge other worlds and dimensions to inflict as much damage as possible.  We, my friend, are in a position to stop it."

            Valry's voice chirped in once again.

"That is why I thanked you, Zolan.  You provided the necessary instrument to forestall catastrophe.  And once the Rover and I are gone, your new responsibilities will just begin."

Zolan raised his head in bafflement.  "Gone? Where...  are you going?"

"Take care of my people," Valry said in a voice nearly as metallic as that of the Rover.  "They are yours now.  They are about to begin anew.  Help them, teach them, and Zolan, most important of all -- love them! They have suffered enough.  Do this for me, and I will always love you and remember you...  as I have always done for these brief hours on Earth.  I will never abandon you, Zolan; this is my promise to you.  And one day - no matter how impossible it now may appear - I will return.  For then, Zolan, we will be together forever."

"Good bye, Zolan, my good friend," the Rover said.  "There is much I still don't know -- but somehow, I think we also will meet again."

 

* * *

 

A wind passed over Zolan's face, and suddenly there was sound again.

"Rzzdik!" Phillips yelled, as the vampire ahead soared in the air directly for Zolan's face.

Very little in the way of feeling or pain remained in the mangled body of John Phillips.  Fortunately, however, his mind in these last dying moments had been spared like abuse.  He could still think, and ponder -- and be amazed.  As he watched the glowing, beautiful image of Zolan sobbing next to him, a kind of last-ditch strength filled not only his spirit, but also his tattered limbs as well.

This divine spark of energy would save Zolan's life.  It would also destroy John Phillips.

He had seen the vampire approaching for several seconds.  It was confused and enraged; distracted by the desert apparition, it almost seemed unsure of whether or not it should take the chance and disturb the solemn quiet that now pervaded across the world.  Yet, Zolan's speaking and occasional emotional outbreaks while communicating with Valry and the Rover had been enough to tear the famished vampire's attention from the eyes of its leader.  So close to the prey, it did not bother to advance further; it simply sprung into the air toward Zolan.

Phillips would not have the opportunity later to wonder how he had struggled to his feet, or for that matter, what kind of power had allowed him to also jump toward the attacking vampire and intercept its deadly course.  His last thoughts were remarkably peaceful, as much as his body was now suddenly pain free.

He did not even scream as both he and the startled vampire went hurtling into the narrow canyon.

Zolan followed the twisted, clutching bodies of Phillips and the Redeye for only a second.  Then the blackness of the chasm swallowed up even shadows, leaving nothing but the barely perceptible echo of falling pebbles.  Zolan listened for a moment longer; he could not even hear the dull thud of impact from Phillips' and the vampires' bodies.

Zolan felt drained and disoriented; he was not even sure if he felt distressed at Phillips' death - or gratitude that a strange Earthman had saved his life and sacrificed his own in the process.  He could only think of Valry...gone -- with the Rover.

Suddenly, there was sound again everywhere.  Growls, hisses and human screams blasted into the world.  Twisting himself around violently, he could see that the giant green-eyed devil in the desert was moving forward.  Silently, with a horrible, fanged smile on its face, the Resistor crushed thousands of the Redeyes with every step it took.  Within seconds, it would be at the mouth of the valley.

"Dalka?"

The mother Birdog bounced down the slope, rolling finally to a stop only inches from where Zolan was standing mesmerized.  She nuzzled his hands desperately, then turned and faced the crowd of advancing Redeyes ten feet away.

Zolan's stupor was shattered.  He mounted the Birdog like a horse, then grabbed the great tufty fur in his hands.  No sooner had he done this, than she was off.

There was only one way for her to gain enough momentum again for a takeoff -- and that was to go down.  Plowing forward, she put herself on a direct collision course with the thick body of vampires ahead.  Too stupid to react to several tons of Birdog plunging downhill, the Redeyes simply growled and threatened as she approached them.

Zolan kept his head down, buried in fur, as the Birdog smashed into a solid wall of bloodsucker.  Enraged howls and agonized screeches tortured his ears, as bodies and fluid sprayed past him.  The Birdog did not decelerate; a few seconds later and her great wings were flapping, and Zolan realized he was flying.

The Birdog made a tight turn toward the mountain again, and headed for the high ledge where nine hundred members of the tribe stood terrified watching the horror before them.  Green Belly was fifty feet below the ledge, ready if necessary to meet the first wave of the enemy should they get that high on the mountain.  Further down the slope, nine other Stingers, including Thalick, were retreating slowly upwards.  The Redeyes, however, had ceased their advance; they seemed to be waiting for their King to catch up to them at the mountain base.

The Birdog dropped gracelessly onto the wide plateau, sending a crowd of people scrambling out of her way.  Zolan was thrown a few feet by the rough landing, but was unharmed.  Several giants helped him to his feet, and then once again, all eyes were directed to activities below.

Zolan checked his comwatch.  The red light that had moments earlier been reactivated by the Rover, lay dark and quiet.

My fault! Zolan repeated to himself over and over again; all this because of me!

"Valry," Zolan whispered quietly into the dark.  "Take.  .  me...with...you!"

He felt an enormous tongue lash against his cheek.  The mother Birdog was giving him a kind of half grin, mixed with a pant.  She would have looked content had it not been for the expression in her large, brown eyes which bespoke a deep terror.  Only Zolan seemed detached from the Resistor's approach; for he alone was experiencing worse hells than could ever be produced by the green demon ahead.

Zolan reached out and scratched a now-familiar ear.  "Don't be afraid," he cajoled earnestly.  "Nothing will hurt you.  My poor, brave Birdog."

Zolan sat there for a moment and smiled weakly.  "You came back to help me again, didn't you? I wonder, was that also part of Valry's plan?" Zolan scratched harder, much to the mother's delight.  "I hope that your pups are alright."

Somehow he knew that they were.

The sky was no longer pitch black.  The glowing fire from the Resistor's eyes flooded the valley with a sickly green.  Zolan stared nonplussed at the vision of evil.  He was not worried, for he realized that the Rover and Valry would somehow manage to keep their promise.

 

* * *

 

Far below, Thalick had broken away from his companions, and was now crawling up the mountain face towards the wide ledge that held the tribe.  The vampires were still checking their attack, as the unholy giant of green pounded into the valley and approached the lower slopes, but the Stingers were still in battle position ready for the worse.

Thalick had just arrived to the ledge, near the spot Zolan was standing, when the low drone of the Rover's cripple engine hummed overhead.  All heads turned upwards -- including the hellish skull of the fanged Resistor.

Then Valry's voice rang out.

"You must stay for awhile longer, my dear friend Thalick.  For you and Zolan, there is still much work to be done.  You must promise to do this for me."

Thalick hissed in confusion at hearing the girl's voice.

"Remember me, Zolan," Valry said in a tone of voice that held the unmistakable promise of farewell.  "Remember me."

The Rover starship hovered for only a moment longer.  Then, it disappeared into the black sky above.

 

* * *

 

Evil.  An interesting concept, if not a bit inaccurate; the Resistor felt oddly philosophical -- he viewed himself always as simply, and with a certain touch of humility, a master of chaos.  Good and Evil were human creations; primitive delineations that represented controls on fear, or more specifically, qualities of fear.  They did not really apply to him.

He was a disrupter; a creation of non-symmetry.

A lover of mayhem.

Evil?

Not really.

The Resistor stared down into the valley, drunk with a power he had not felt in over ten million years.

Now that power could be used.

With a finger, he pointed towards one of the Stingers nearly five miles away.  This creature, and others like it, had thus far remained indestructible to his influence.  Now, if he pleased, he could crush it -- or this world, if he so chose.

The Stinger was lifted off the ground, squirming in wonder.  Then, quite suddenly, it was in His palm.  As he had done so effortlessly with the vampiric corpse of Cathy Phillips, the Resistor closed his hand.

For the first time in ten thousand years, a Thelerick Stinger died.

The Resistor dropped the corpse, and studied the valley ahead of him.  He could now dispose of the Stingers completely; a joy he would take his time with.

To his rear, mountains formed, miles away; tectonic plates ripped and split in their foundations; across the world, oceans heaved and skies roared.

It was almost too simple.

The stars would have to be next.

The Resistor howled -- and focused on the next Stinger to die.

Thalick watched Green Belly die; felt the death, the secondary agony of surprise and -- what was it -- incredulity.  Never had it been so easy to be destroyed; yet, now, Green Belly was gone.  Thalick, more fluent with the ways of human emotions, roared with fury.  The other Stingers simply watched quietly, unable to fathom immediately what had transpired; unable, in fact, to fully accept Green Belly's death.

Thalick's fury was cut short, however, as he noticed One Claw slowly rise into the air.

One Claw did not squirm as Green Belly had done; curious to the end, he merely analyzed this impressive piece of levitation with quiet composure.

Nor did he hiss or scream as his one remaining claw and legs were ripped from their powerful joints, until he was a helpless trunk of agony.  A moment later, and he was dropped onto the rocks, as if whatever incredible power had taken the time to torment him, was suddenly bored and disgusted with the pastime.

One Claw's life slowly faded out; Thalick's last empathic message from his comrade was one of admiration.  And to think, ten thousand years earlier, his entire race had searched desperately for a means of self-extermination! Another milestone had been breached within Thelerick philosophy; a black sense of humor had been discovered -- a contribution to his kind that One Claw realized, even at his death, was extraordinary indeed.

Zolan, a hundred yards away, tore his eyes away from the departing Rover, in time to see the obscenities being performed on the Thelericks.  The remaining Stingers had all stopped in their tracks, distracted by the deaths of Green Belly and One Claw; Redeyes and Jumpers made good with the opportunity as they raced up the mountains unobstructed by the paralyzed Thelericks.

Zolan, numb to his very core, could nevertheless see the danger immediately.  Humans, who were being transported by Green Belly, were now desperately jumping of the Stinger's back and running for their lives.  Seconds later, however, a wall of Redeyes descended upon them, and their tormented screams were lost quickly among those of the more famished vampires.

She was wrong! Zolan thought suddenly.  Nothing could stop the Resistor and his demons.

But this last thought was obliterated as the brightest light he had ever seen exploded above him.

 

* * *

 

Failure!

The entire concept stung the Resistor to the center of his rotten soul.  He would lose again.

He screamed in fury.

The enemy had won! The Ancient One, The Beloved, the Eternal One had triumphed once again.

And he could do nothing to stop it.  He stared at the ants that were men, Stingers and Redeyes beneath him; he was just beginning to have fun.

He should have known.  He should have killed quickly where the human girl was concerned.  She had done this -- as she, and her power, had done so effectively in the past.

His power was suddenly waning; sucked up somehow by the Ball-machine ahead.  He had heard the voice of the Enemy; she had survived somehow, and had returned.

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