The scorpions fire beyon.., p.36
The Scorpion's Fire (Beyond the Impossible Book 8), page 36
“You’re soldiers,” Moon said, stepping close to Ludmilla. “Soldiers do their job in war. Some don’t survive.”
“That was always your excuse, Moon. But what about those who did not die in battle? The ones who refused to go on, so you executed them? I saw what you did to Sito Ra. When she lost the will to fight, you pressed your cigar into her face. You set her on fire. She died in agony at your hands. You’re a monster. Both of you are.”
Moon raised his hand, but Royal caught him.
“Not now,” he said in Quesh-n’o.
“Go ahead,” Ludmilla said. “I dare you, Moon. Prove me right.”
All eyes stared down the gods, not a hint of fear among them.
“You’re ready to leave,” Royal said. “I hear you. Not a problem. You can have the ship. It’s a good one. Eternal engine. We’ll open a hole in the outer ring. Just one question. Do you have any idea what’s waiting out there?”
“Does it matter, Royal? Anywhere out there isn’t here with you. We’ll make our way and find a home.”
“Fair enough. Moon and I will deal with the ring, and we’ll drop you the coordinates.”
Heads nodded. Royal saw nothing in their eyes but hatred.
“For what it’s worth,” Royal said, “you did right by the universe. Saved more people than you’ll ever know. So, there’s that.”
The gods did not stick around. After their equations built tools powerful enough to penetrate the outer ring, they notified the ship’s Nav AI of the coordinates. Royal thought to say goodbye, but it seemed a pointless gesture.
They watched from skiffs as the long white vessel carried the last Bessians to a universe where they had not lived for thousands of years.
“I thought we were good Generals,” Moon said. “They’re jealous and ungrateful.”
“They’re also the bravest humans we’ll ever know. And truth be told, partner, we are a pair of assholes.”
“I happen to like being an asshole. If they love you, they turn soft. We had a job to do. We got more work ahead, Royal.”
“Yep. Final Verdict.”
“Big decisions, partner. Who lives, who dies.”
“Hell of a responsibility, Moon.”
“This job will never get old.”
Royal had an idea. He pointed toward the opening.
“Follow me.”
They piloted their skiffs into normal space and beheld the nebula as only gods could: Sans breathing apparatus. They leaped off the vehicles and landed on the gleaming golden surface, which extended past the far horizon. A dwarf star cast its white beams through a cloud of orange and red gasses. Their keen eyes pierced the veil and saw into the nearest systems, where maelstroms from dying stars consumed long-abandoned worlds.
“We’ve been gone two thousand years,” Royal said. “There’s been some changes in the neighborhood.”
Moon nodded. “Most of it’s dead.”
“We’ll sort that shit out, partner. This is our playground.” He grabbed Moon’s hand. “Hard to believe I’m saying those words.”
“We can do anything we want. God is real. We’re Him.”
“Almost.”
The interior voice had been silent for eighty-seven years. True to their word, Theo and Pia emerged after the close of battle. They seeped through the pores of their hosts and phase-shifted into pale imitations of their former selves.
“You’re correct, Moon,” Pia said. “You two will decide the fate of all Creation.”
“But you will do it without us,” Theo added.
“What? You show up after all this time, and now you’re leaving?”
Theo shrugged. “We have nothing left to offer.” He and Pia shared an intentional glance. “When you destroyed the first platform, you theorized about our true motive. You said we chose you to do what we could not: Destroy our own people. You were right.”
Royal had pondered the idea for decades.
“This whole deal was bigger than the two of us, wasn’t it? Those ninety-two thousand Bessians were failed experiments. You didn’t find what you were looking for until you hit upon us.”
The twinkle in Theo’s eyes said he approved.
“When Pia and I made the decision that our people had to die for the sake of the universes, we devised a recipe of characteristics we sought for our hosts.”
“I lost count of how many times we were sure we’d found the perfect pairing,” Pia said. “We sought a killer who’d make it his life’s calling, and another who bore dark tendencies.”
“With the proper tutelage,” Theo continued, “we hoped their personalities and skillsets might complement each other and build a formidable team. We negotiated with the Overseers; we used Bessios as cover for our activities.”
“I get it,” Royal said. “Bessios meant you’d have entry to the Origin without the Overseers paying much attention.”
“They never imagined our true purpose until it was too late.”
“But you failed about forty-six thousand times. How did you know to choose us?”
Pia stepped in.
“Royal, we needed a pair of humans capable of killing without remorse on an unprecedented scale. We found many humans who were more adept at murder than you, and far more mentally troubled than you, Moon. But none of them rose to the standard that required centuries of training and endurance. We had overlooked the need for a fundamental human quality. The most unlikely among genocidal killers: Love.”
She stepped between the pair and caressed both their faces. Royal felt a synthetic sensation, as if inside the Cartalingus.
“We needed a bond of friendship so deep it could not be broken by any force. Finding the perfect dynamic was the most difficult task we ever faced. The timing had to be perfect. Moon, when Royal entered your father’s lab, you sensed he was going to change your life. Yes?”
“I did.”
“And you, Royal. You saw Moon as leverage because friendship and love did not interest you.”
“Sounds like me.”
“In time, that changed. You saw a kind boy on the outside, but you sensed his internal struggle. Against all logic, you thought he might be like you.”
“I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but yeah. Turns out, he’s a nastier piece of work than me.”
“You brought each other along in different ways. By the end of your journey in Bessios, you were of a single mindset. Training you both was easy, but evolving a human into a god takes time. You achieved beyond our grandest expectations.”
“And now,” Theo said, “you don’t need us anymore. To the greater point: We don’t need you. Our journey is done. We’re tired.”
“What will you do?” Royal said.
“Our people achieved great wonders, but we exceeded our grasp. If you complete your job, the Creators’ work will be undone. When that happens, the universe will forget about us.” He wrapped an arm around Pia. “Its final two voices must also be silenced.”
“The hell? What will you do? Just … vanish?”
Pia chuckled. “Theo and I have witnessed all the mysteries of Creation except for one.”
“What’s that?”
“The fury at the heart of a star.”
“Yeah, no. That’s extreme.”
Theo and Pia beamed with excitement.
“It’s fine, Royal. We made this decision long ago.”
Moon grunted. “I like it. Only a god can go out that way.”
Theo laughed. “Our thoughts exactly. Now, some concluding points. First, what you choose from today is totally your own. Final Verdict gives you absolute power to destroy or save at a whim. Take great care to form your goals. Second, know precisely when and where to re-enter the Continuum. Timing will be critical. Once you have interfered with causality, you cannot stop it.”
“Take all the time you need,” Pia said. “Calculate the implications. When you can see the paths converge, rejoin the living.”
“And finally,” Theo added. “They will never appreciate what you do for them. Do not expect adulation, and you will not be disappointed.”
“Damn good advice. Whatcha think, Moon?”
“I think I’m fucking sad to see you two go. This gift you gave me is beyond words.”
Pia stepped away, tugging at Theo.
“Don’t thank us, Moon. We stripped you of your humanity and turned you into a monster with an insatiable appetite to kill. We were selfish. Goodbye and good luck.”
Theo waved as they dissolved.
“Farewell, young gods.”
Royal wondered why the moment did not sting. The four of them had been part of each other’s lives for two thousand years. Then he studied the vast expanse of the nebula and caught a fleeting glance of the Bessians’ warship navigating clear.
“It’s all ours now, partner.”
Moon scratched his chin.
“I’m not sure why she apologized. I like being a monster with an insatiable appetite to kill.”
“That’s the damn truth. Whatcha say we head inside and create a little habitat. We got some serious thinking to do.”
“Eh. That could work. Or we could take time off. Put our feet up. Relax. Have we had any time off the last nineteen centuries?”
They jumped onto their skiffs and piloted through the outer ring. Hours later, after creating a comfortable suite reminiscent of their home in Bessios, they sat down to dinner. Each had a seared steak the size of their dinner plate and a full bottle of whiskey.
After they cleaned their plates, Royal and Moon settled into recliners. Moon lit his favorite style of cigar, and Royal started his second bottle. They stared at a map of the Continuum.
“So, where do we start?” Moon asked.
“Only one place. It’s not a matter of where, but when.”
“Sounds right. Then what?”
From there, the conversation took many turns. They vowed to remain in those chairs until the paths of their plan converged.
Fifteen months later, with beards wild and bushy and hair beneath their shoulders, the gods re-entered the Continuum.
37
The Sturgeon
Rally Fournos System
A DMIRALS BORED EMPRESS CHASTAIN V. Their reports droned on with mind-numbing details. Supreme Admiral Horowitz proved himself a notable exception. He described the three-day-old battle of Esperanza in tightly constructed phrases ending with the words “Orzed forces are in full retreat.” Then he tapped his shoes together, bowed before her grace, and awaited her response.
“You see?” She said. “Command overestimated our losses. I told you God would stand at their side. We’ll finish their primary fleet when they try to retake Esperanza. But wounded animals must heal before they return to the hunt. Yes?”
Horowitz nodded. “They are in disarray, Empress.”
“God says now is the time to destroy His most foul enemy. We will take advantage of their disarray. Adm. Notang says six hundred warships are prepared to cross the divide, fulfill their mission, and return to God’s embrace. Do you concur with his assessment?”
“Yes, Empress. The devices have been installed and tested.”
“You analyzed reports about the enemy warship Lightfoot?”
“I have, Empress.”
“Will our six hundred warships burn their worlds?”
“We will face considerable resistance, but the mission will be finished within one month.”
No one present showed an outward reaction to the prediction.
“God disagrees. He says His enemies will be purged in twenty days at a loss of twenty percent.”
“We will make it so. In God’s name, Empress.”
“In God’s name. Go away now.”
She considered Horowitz the warm-up act. The man now being escorted to the Divine Reach was the floor show.
Chastain called forth the Commander of the Imperial Guard.
“Empress.”
“Did you retrieve it?”
“Yes, Empress. We recovered it in frozen storage.” He pointed to a priest holding a sealed metal box.
“Perfect, Commander. Deliver the guest.”
The Esperanzan who the Guard allowed to pass had been on Chastain’s to-meet list from the day of her installment. He always sent lapdogs and children to seek audience. Squirrelly creatures. Given time, they’d sell out their families for Chastain’s embrace.
This one walked with a surety the others lacked. Here was a man who won every deal, secured every vote, and dictated the fate of every free world. He bowed as if facing Chastain’s grandmother, who entertained him often.
“Garruth Peron at long last. Some call you The Architect.”
He tightened his jowls. Chastain thought he resembled a horse.
“I’m a mere accountant, Empress.”
“False modesty is a sin in the eye of God.”
“I do not mean to offend, Empress.”
She muffled a laugh.
“No, what you mean to do is negotiate a peace settlement ending in the withdrawal of my forces and the resumption of Shunta Hia’s business, with terms favorable to Conversion and your family’s financial position.”
Words stumbled off Peron’s lips.
“I-I … Empress, I am only here on behalf of my people to seek a peaceful resolution.”
“Which will advantage your interests. Your family excels in the art of maintaining a healthy ledger. If you cannot negotiate in good faith before God, I cannot help.”
“Of course, Empress. Apologies.”
“Reports say you surrendered to our forces the moment they entered the Actuarium. You demanded to be brought before me. What a remarkable contrast to your sister, who ran and hid. I wonder, Garruth. Which of you was smarter?”
Garruth fidgeted. “Empress, I bring news of great peril to us all. A r-reason to end the war now.”
“Ah. A bargaining chip.”
“No, Empress. Scientific proof we are all in grave danger. The universe is on the verge of collapse. So say our scientists.”
She heard desperation. He didn’t believe that nonsense any more than she did when her astronomers proposed it.
“You speak of the End Times, Garruth. Please, don’t worry. I have it on the grandest authority. We are safe. God has a plan for the future. You and I will be distant memories by then.”
“You will not discuss it?”
“No, Garruth. I will not. Other than your plea for a settlement, do you come here seeking anything else?”
She thought Peron was smart to hold his third item for last. It was so petty by comparison.
“Actually, Empress. I wish to inquire about my son.”
There it was. Time for the entertainment.
“Oh, yes. Young Alazar.”
“He did not report back after arriving here. I was concerned for some days, but it’s clear to me now. You are holding him as leverage toward any peace settlement.”
She leaned forward and cracked a wry smile.
“Oh, no. I’m not holding Alazar.” She pointed to the priest with the box. “He is.”
“Excuse me, Empress?”
She waved the priest over.
“Show him.”
The priest removed the latch and opened it in front of Garruth.
The most powerful man on the Shunta Hia gagged.
“No! You … no!”
He fell to his knees and sobbed. The priest closed the box and returned to his position.
“It was a short visit,” Chastain said. “It ended more or less where your tears are staining the carpet. He was a repulsive little man, but I see where he learned his principles.”
Garruth found strength to stand but violated the central tenet of an audience with Chastain: He did not look her in the eyes.
“My son deserved better.”
“He never saw it coming. I doubt he felt pain. You, on the other hand, will not be so fortunate. You should have followed your sister’s model. This is why we Convert whole worlds. We erase the rot. We cleanse the filth. We create paradise, as God commands.”
He wiped away his tears.
“Empress, we have done business with the Church for three generations. You have benefited from this relationship.”
“My grandmother did. She was a vulgar cunt who turned her back on God. She ignored filth like you. Goodbye, Garruth Peron.”
He said nothing. What use would it have been?
She called the Commander of the Guard.
“Give him the box. Walk him from bow to stern. Then allow him to experience God’s Almighty Creation to his final breath.”
“Yes, Empress.”
Chastain saw nothing else on her agenda. It had been a good day. Time for prayer and reflection.
* * *
Warship Scylla
Hokkaido system
Capt. Paul Ochoba signed off on the duty reports and promised his XO another crack at victory after their shift ended. Col. Caleb Silver took his losing streak with a good nature, but Paul knew the immortal hated to be bested at arm wrestling.
Paul snickered behind his office desk.
“Your problem,” he told Caleb, “is you’re distracted.”
“True. I miss my husband. We’ve only been married a week. The real problem is how you cheat, Paul.”
Paul wagged a finger.
“Whoa, Caleb. Are you accusing a senior officer of cheating at a time-honored tradition such as arm wrestling?”
“Hard to explain otherwise. I was the undisputed champ until I gave you a go.”
Paul feigned innocence.
“Now, hold on. I assumed you tanked the first one. Didn’t want to hurt the old man’s reputation.”
“You don’t know me, Paul. I’ve been a competitive prick since I was five. X will tell you. I don’t let love, friendship, or rank come between me and a friendly competition.”
Paul rapped the desk. “I will keep it in mind going forward. Just for the record: My father mastered the art before I was born. He taught me all the tricks.”
Caleb bit his lip. “Then I revoke my accusation, sir.”
