Rage of the Ancient Gods Read online

A sniveling sycophant. Nice. Every universe needs lots of those. “What if we don't want to go to the Lower Chambers and hang with Vorc's love-demon?” I challenged quietly.

  “At the first sign of resistance I'm instructed to summon Bethniak.”

  “Huh. I doubt she'd answer your call. She seems to be the arrogant effete type,” I remarked.

  “Yes. She is very much those things. Normally you are correct. She would not answer a summons from me. But …”

  “In your case, Ryanmax, she'd make an exception,” finished Sapale. “I wish you'd stop doing that to people. It's getting old like you.”

  “This way, please,” the vapor said. It might have turned, but I think it more reversed itself front to back. Creepy.

  We walked for half an hour before we were off the catwalk and on terra firma. Another twenty minutes and I recognized we were nearing the Lower Chambers. The landscape was becoming familiar.

  “So, any of us get through the vortex before the mystery terrorist threw the hate-bomb?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “I believe I'll defer that and similar questions to Vorc. I wouldn't want to provide you with incorrect information.”

  “Very considerate of you, old sport. Glad you're concerned enough,” I shot back sarcastically. Jerk wouldn't let me pump him.

  “It looked to me like one went through before that dastardly coward, whoever he, she, or it was, broke the spell,” Sapale said to me louder than required.

  “Yeah, I did see him disappear. What's his name, Dalfury? It's been so long I think I forgot it.”

  There was no response from our guide. A tough guy. Okay.

  From behind a voice said, “Marropex is the reaver's name you saw depart. The full contingent of Rage got through before there was a snafu and the vortex destabilized. The other four ranks did not. They were unable to egress.”

  I spun. It was Blobby, my non-friend cloudy apparition. He glided behind us silently.

  “Can he hear you?” I asked while pointing to Dalfury.

  “Unlikely,” said the vapor.

  “But you share a puffy nature,” I remarked.

  “We do not. He is made of a very different substance than I.”

  “What?” I pressed.

  “Mostly static electricity with some amino acids and proteins,” my cloud said.

  “And you?”

  “I have no idea. I doubt I exist in spite of your belief to the contrary.”

  “Well if you don't know your composition, how the hell do you know it's not like his? Hmm, smart blob?”

  He was silent a good thirty seconds. “Hell?” he said as a question. “H … hell? I've … I know of hell.”

  Great, getting wiggy on me again in a crisis. He was as useless as any blob, shining or not, that I'd ever dealt with. “What about hell? I was, by the way, using it as a figure of speech, not a place with GPS coordinates.”

  “I used to fear hell. No, I used to say hell, like you. Yes that is it.”

  “If I had a candy treat I'd hand it to you. That's some accomplishment. Bet Mom'd be real proud of her blob.”

  “Boy.”

  “Boy what? I think you're giving me hemorrhoids, dude.”

  “I hear you speaking, Ryanmax, but I do not know to whom. Please remain silent,” said Dalfury, apparently without turning. It was hard to tell with that cloud.

  “It's an old song. No big deal.”

  Dalfury stopped and definitely turned. “It would seem every time you speak I become more suspicious and believe your contention less. A song is not regularly interrupted by silence. That being the case, I'm wondering why you felt it necessary to lie to me?”

  “Haven't you hear of a call-and-response song? That's what I was singing to myself quietly and without seditious intentions.”

  “I have not heard of that form of song. But I heard no call for you to respond to, so I remain deeply suspicious.”

  “That's probably because you weren't raised right. When you were a little cloudy memory, your memory mama did a bad job. She should have loved you more's my guess.”

  Dalfury didn't have eyes, but still I got the distinct impression he was rolling his eyes. Dude was as bad as Sapale in that regard. In any case he resumed leading us toward the chambers.

  In a whisper I asked the blob, “Where were we?”

  “Where were we when?” he replied with his typical vagueness.

  “In our conversation train.”

  “The train was near hell, I believe.”

  Jon, are you speaking to this apparition? Toño asked head-to-head, pointing to Blobby.

  In point of fact, yes I am. I'm glad you can see him.

  Why wouldn't I see and hear it? It's right here. Toño swept a hand right through Blob-Boy.

  And you? I asked Sapale. Can you see it too?

  Yes. And I've already come to the conclusion it’s as annoying as you are, which is saying a lot. Why's it so surprising we can see it?

  The locals so far have not, except Bethniak. She swatted it away back at the egress. Referred to it as a decrepit old ghost.

  I heard her say that but had no idea what she was referring to, responded Toño.

  “Hey, blob, are you a ghost?” I asked directly.

  “Ghost?” he repeated back. “You say words I haven't heard in … in an eternity. Hell, ghost. The words stir memories.”

  “Thanks for the dissertation. I asked a simple question, however. Yes or no.”

  “Maybe.”

  Now you see, he's just like you, whined Sapale. If there's a path to drive a person crazy, he takes that route just like you.

  But him you love. So why is it a bad quality in my case? asked the blob. He asked it inside my head. That was clearly impossible, which meant he was about to disappear again. It would all be consistent.

  How the hell can you talk inside my head? I snapped.

  Because I designed these androids to have that ability, Toño replied quickly.

  I know that, Doc. I wasn't talking to you. I was speaking to the ghost.

  No you weren't. You didn't say a thing, Toño challenged.

  Yes I did. The ghost can speak to us head-to-head. You heard him, right?

  Sapale, was it you playing tricks? Toño asked.

  Toño, do I ever pull stunts like that? she replied harshly. I'm married to Jon, not similar to him.

  No, I told you it was the spook speaking, I responded.

  Well I didn't hear it, Toño said firmly.

  Me either, added Sapale.

  What? I'm the only one he can send messages to? I mean, you guys hear him. Why could he communicate to my head and not yours?

  Because you’re insane. What you postulate is not even remotely possible, replied Toño.

  “Hey, ghost, why can you speak to all of us but only message me brain-to-brain?” I said a bit too loudly.

  Jon, quiet. You'll piss off the other cloud, said Sapale.

  “Sorry. Repeat. Why can only I hear your thoughts? And if you say I don't know, I swear I'm calling Bethniak here myself.”

  “I have no idea,” the freakazoid answered. “I hope that's different enough from I don't know so you don't summon that awful girl.”

  “He's not calling anyone,” Sapale added quickly. “If you start believing him you'll believe anyone.”

  “I do.”

  “You do what?” I fired back. I was this close to popping him in the chin, if he only had one.

  Never mind. I don't recall why I said it.

  “Are you going to let him dodge that question, Jon?” asked Toño.

  “He didn't. He just said it in my head, not out loud.”

  “Why do I feel so much worse hearing that?” sighed Sapale.

  “Look, ghostly pain in my ass, if you can't head-talk them don't do it to me.”

  All right. As you wish.

  I was gonna call Ghostbusters. I was so over that poltergeist.

  “We have arrived,” announced Dalfury. “If you will follow me down a serie
s of stairs, we can begin the process of verifying or refuting your claims.”

  “You coming with us, whoever?”

  No response. Perfect. I turned a full circle. The phantom was, of course, inexplicably gone again. I rested a hand on my forehead. Taunted by a blob and being led by another. I needed a new life. I needed a better life.

  TWO

  The column of ancient gods that constituted Rage burst into our universe with staccato bursts of light. The machine-gun flashes of energy announced great danger to everything living. But no one was present to see the luminescent harbingers because the ancient gods entered randomly into empty space far from any galaxies. So none of the doomed knew their futures were then cursed. They would soon know only war, subjugation, and torment until the relief of death lifted their burden. The light of each entering god added to the certainty of our existences's eternal darkness.

  Nassel led Rage. She had done so for the last three transheavals. As a god of conquest she was the perfect choice. As the first of Rage to enter our universe, she was the first to taste the life that abounded. She could feel the heartbeats of a centillion vibrant, thinking, breathing creatures. And she was the first Rage to know with certainty that she would soon ravish, kill, and destroy again. She vibrated with rapture. Her wings opened to their full thirty-meter span, her massive scaly head arched back, and she screeched ecstasy into the vacuum of space. Life was orgasmic again.

  Then Nassel settled into her duties. As more and more and more ancient gods entered our space she directed them into small pods and the pods, in turn, into larger engagers. Soon the void was empty no longer. It took days, but finally Rage was ordered, set, and ready. One million ancient demonic gods chafed at the bit, anxious to strike, anxious to destroy.

  “The five engagers will move in different directions,” called out Nassel to the teaming assembly. “I have already instructed the five field commanders what their areas of dominion are to be. They are free to direct their pods as they see fit. A warning to you all. Heed your field commanders and do not defy the order I have established. In the past, treasonous fools have left their designated areas in the belief that victims were more plentiful or satisfying elsewhere. If I hear of such acts the offenders will have me as a permanent enemy. Now go, my brothers and sisters. Go and make this universe regret it ever popped into existence. Make all who call it home curse their parents for giving them the life that we now own.” And with those words, the five engagers moved off at fantastic speed.

  Our universe was large, infinite by all accounts. The pods numbering two hundred thousand each were a speck in a moat in a drop on that scale. Even after the full contingent of five million ancient gods had descended, their numbers would still be infinitesimally small on the large scale of space. So how could this unholy armada threaten but the tiniest fraction of unfortunate outposts that were close enough to their point of entry to be consumed? It was a summation, a product of what the Cleinoids brought to the game. If rapaciousness was a virtue, they would be on the highest pinnacle of righteousness. If the intensity of their lust reflected their brightness, they would outshine all light everywhere bundled together. And the damnable ancient gods had time, all of time, to wreak their havoc, mayhem, and dissolution on our universe. For as long as fate favored their presence, the ancient devils would be unrestrained by any natural force and free to linger until there was nothing left to plunder.

  Fate, which always seemed to be so capricious, arbitrary, and contrarian, was in charge of everything. So it always had been.

  THREE

  We were led into a different section of the Lower Chambers than the detention area we'd all landed in. I was vastly relieved. No Tefnuf was a good way to be. I just prayed her dominion didn't extend past the bowels of the building where she reigned supreme.

  “If you'd like to take a seat, I will summon Zastrál,” Dalfury said deferentially.

  “We'll stand,” I spoke for the three of us. “And who the hell's Zastrál?”

  The cloud churned a bit more than I think it normally did. “Most Cleinoids know of Zastrál.” He sounded skeptical.

  “Well that's fine by me. I'm not most Cleinoid gods. I'm just the Chosen One.” There. I said it out in the open.

  I swear the cloud shrank. “Now you are the Chosen One?” he said with significant temerity.

  “Thank you,” I replied, suggesting his rhetorical question was a statement of fact. I had to keep him off his feet, so to speak.

  Sapale rolled her eyes. I don't think she approved of my attraction to the chief-god gig.

  “Well, we shall see about that in time based on your deeds. For the present we will be contented to establish your legitimacy as one of us.”

  Before I could counter, the door opened and some ungodly creature entered. I'd seen so much oddness, but damn if it didn't keep getting weirder here in Halloween Town. What I assumed to be Zastrál was a three-meter-long, one-meter-tall fuzzy siamese-twinned python with paddles for legs. Yeah, like the ones you see every day. The joint part was the most bizarre. It was fused head-to-head. One walked backward into the room, and the trailing one walked forward. I knew in a flash there was no world where Darwin would allow for this sideshow freak. It was just too wrong.

  “Master Dalfury,” both mouths said in unison, “we came as soon as we could. Sorry for any delay.” Because they looked like snakes, naturally in Godville they sounded like speaking dolphins.

  I was speechless.

  “Not to worry, dear friends,” replied Dalfury.

  Of course a cloudy memory would be BFFs with a double python. How very normal.

  Dalfury turned to us—at least I think he rotated—and spoke. “Zastrál is here to aid in Vorc's questioning of you three. As you seem to defy all odds in not knowing them, let me clue you in. They are the twin gods of knowing the truth—discovering it, that is.”

  “Not of truth,” I interrupted. “That would be silly, right? Only of knowing truth.”

  Could a cloud look irritated? I wasn't certain.

  “You are correct. Genuous, as you know, is the god of truth. There are scattered demigods for the different forms of truth.”

  “Wait,” snapped Sapale, “are you trying to tell us that truth isn't truth? That there are alternative truths?”

  “Do you honestly require me to answer that question?” he responded.

  She waved the back of a hand at him. “Forget I asked.”

  “So, back on topic,” Dalfury said cordially, “once Vorc has arrived Zastrál will help him know the truth of your words.”

  “Is he a slithering polygraph?” I asked almost in a snicker.

  “I am not familiar with that term. I doubt it, however. While you answer Vorc's queries Zastrál will enshroud your heads. If you lie, they will know it. No living being can resist their abilities.”

  Crapazoid. Not good. The second the snakes made contact, they were bound to notice we weren't like actually living beings.

  The door banged open and a very perturbed-appearing Vorc stormed in. He had, believe it or not, several sheets of paper crumpled up in his fist. Paper? That was so last eon.

  “Is there a problem, my lord?” asked Vorc's right hand.

  “Problem? No, it's well beyond a problem. It's well beyond a crisis. For the sake of the Ten Creators, it's light years past a catastrophe.”

  “Is it a debacle?” I snarked because I absolutely couldn't restrain myself. “Is it, I mean, maybe could it be ruination?”

  Normally when I mouth off I get a scary look or sentenced to death or something. Vorc, I think in retrospect, was not in the mood for me. He hurled a ball of flames at my head, a rather large and hot-looking one to be specific.

  I threw a partial membrane around it and stopped the flames halfway between us. “You want this back? I'd be happy to toss it back at near the speed of light.” I was able to react so quickly because I knew in this crazy universe, sooner or later I was going to get lightning or fire thrown my way. I was rea
dy. Plan, prepare, and deploy.

  Vorc's eyes saucered. He took a step back. “No. Sorry, Ryanmax. It's just with the crisis and all I lost my head. Sorry.”

  “Keep in mind you haven't lost it … yet.” I snuffed out the fire.

  “My lord,” repeated Dalfury, “what is the crisis?”

  “Rage departed through the egress portal, but only just. When Torment tried they couldn't pass. I even had Wrath advance out of turn, but they were unable to enter.”

  “You mean the bulk of the gods are stranded here? Vorc, that's a … it's a …”

  “Fiasco?” I interrupted helpfully.

  Sapale kicked me in the shins.

  While I made a show of rubbing the spot I asked, “So what's the plan here?”

  “The plan is to finally get the truth out of you. I warn you, if I confirm you threw the intermixer into the egress vortex, you will live just long enough to wish you hadn't.”

  “Oh crap,” I said.

  “What?” boomed Vorc.

  “Now you've gone and done it. I'm scared. Are you going to appoint an attorney at no cost to me?”

  “Jon,” hissed Sapale, “Lighten up a bit.”

  I shrugged. I think I did that a lot.

  “I'm a busy man,” huffed Vorc. “Zastrál, climb onto Ryanmax's head and let's get started.”

  “I will not allow it,” I said flatly.

  “Lucky for me, your cooperation is unnecessary. Zastrál,” he pointed to the snakes, “up please.”

  Turn off your biocomputers, I said to my companions in their heads.

  What? Why? responded Toño.

  Just do it quickly. I'm playing a hunch.

  We're all going to die, bemoaned Sapale.

  Are they off?

  Yes.

  Confirmed.

  “Vorc, I'm a tolerant Chosen One, so I'll cut you this one transgression. Make it your last or you will be the regretting individual.”

  “If you could stop blustering for just a moment, maybe we could get started,” taunted Vorc.

  “You and this abomination do what you have to. But I will not allow it. Zastrál will not be allowed to tap into any of our minds.”

  “That'd be a first,” chuckled Vorc. “What you claim is not possible.”