Demonworld (24 page)

Speaking around the thick chew in his mouth, Sevrik said, “I often wonder about the nature of you scientists. The ethos of the Guardians was written in stone long ago. It attracts an individual of a certain nature. I see this every day. But I don’t see scientists every day, which is odd, because the scientist and his work is the reason why all other Havenders exist. That’s why I...” Didi looked away. “It’s true!” said Sevrik. “Fighters, laborers, merchants, politicians - they all have their place in the outside world. With my rifle and my mindset I could find a niche in the wasteland. I could find weak people to do my bidding and patch up the insecurities of my ego, no problem. Not you. Not any scientist. The closest comparable thing that the wasteland has are shamans and the like. So tell me, Didi. What is the difference between you and a wasteland shaman?”

“
Very little,” said Didi. “It’s a matter of degrees.”

Sevrik froze. He had not expected such an answer. After a moment he turned and pointed at a man in a neat little sweater who was obviously ill at ease in his environment. “But, Didi, how can you say… I mean, what does that little man have in common with some charlatan with a bone through his nose who runs around and screams at invisible phantoms?”

“
I know what you’ve heard,” said Didi. “It’s a popular assumption in Haven, and we believe it was with the Ancients as well, that a scientist empties himself of all assumptions and objectively studies the world. The world is A, and the scientist studies the world that is A. A shaman, on the other hand, believes that he world is B. He throws around a pile of chicken bones, dances around, makes a big show of invoking a few spirits in order to impress the crowd… and then they feed him and give him whatever he wants.”

“
That isn’t so?” said Sevrik.

“
It is… to a point. But many cultures before ours have rested on that point and been split asunder on that point. We employ logic and we look at matters with some amount of objectivity, Lieutenant Clash, but science only advances with the help of intuitive leaps. There are limits to what can be measured and tested and quantified. The mind has functions which cannot be understood even by our finest neuroscientists. But not all scientists have this intuitive capacity – at least, not to a degree that they can reliably employ in their everyday work. So, in order to maintain the fantasy of control – that is, our assumption that the world is B - and shake hands and congratulate one another on what a fine job we are doing at advancing beyond the level of the primitives, we must believe that true science occurs by men in lab coats wielding test tubes and electron microscopes. Priests depend on prophets, you know, even as they hunt down the prophets to protect the status quo… which was, in its day, built on the corpses of yesterday’s prophets. And so on. Lieutenant Clash, I tell you I have seen some incredibly childish arguments among my peers; battles which would make the old priests of the wasteland churches blush.”

“
But,” said Sevrik, “you do believe that Haven has… ah, come further than your average wasteland community, do you not?”

“
I do,” said Didi. “Our freedom and our peace have given us a perfect environment for intuitive visionaries to do their strange work, and has allowed our scientists to make something practical out of the legacy of those visionaries.”

Sevrik thought for a long moment, then turned his head and spat loudly. Long minutes passed as he sat in thought. The voice on the intercom spoke again. “Past observation shows that if one demon is attacked or slain, others will eventually come. How demons communicate across distance is unknown. After a lone demon is found and killed, our forces will take the corpse and fly en masse to another location where the corpse will be scanned.

“
No demon is to be abducted alive. Radio communication should be strictly limited while moving a demon’s body.”

“
I like what I’ve heard, Didi,” said Sevrik. “I feel as if I’ve made the right choice in being a Guardian.”

“
How so?” said Didi. “Why did you become a Guardian?”

“
I’m a violent soul,” said Sevrik, “and there’s no doubt in my mind that, if I were born outside of Haven, I would have been the worst sort of parasite.”

“
I don’t believe that,” said Didi. “You obviously have the ability to express yourself and to consider your situation. That’s a sign of intelligence.”

“
I’m no dumbass, but... even that can turn to evil in the wasteland. I thought of other fields, but it’s the sword and shield that I love. I’m grateful to Haven for giving me something noble to focus my animal instincts on.”

“
And why did you want to come here?”

“
It’s all well and good to train all day, to bully some men and obey others, work my way up in the ranks, you know, but I want to see the
real
enemy. I want to know what it is that I’m supposed to be protecting my people from.”

“
You might die.”

“
I might live, too, and when it comes time to hand out promotions and power, those who were strong enough to face the outside world will be the ones favored.” Sevrik shook his head, then said, “This might sound phony, but I really do care about protecting my people from the outside world.”

“
It doesn’t sound phony to me,” said Didi. “When I hear someone speak of their ideals, I don’t automatically conclude that they’re trying to con me. That’s a habit picked up from hanging around the wrong sorts of people. Anyway, please do not be insulted, but I didn’t realize any Guardians were… self-aware.”

Sevrik laughed, knowing that it took a brave man indeed to put him in his place. The voice on the intercom said, “No demon, dead or alive, is to be brought into Haven. Ships pursued by aerial demons
must not
return to Haven. Scanning of demonic corpses should be done quickly. Once scanned, all forces will move again once demonic corpses have been incinerated.”

A Guardian leaned over a scientist and spoke with insincere joviality. The pair watched, but could not hear, as the scientist tried to laugh at the situation and humor the menacing Guardian. Sevrik leaned forward, shouted, “Basau! I don’t think that guy’s down for any heavy petting. Why don’t you go clean something?”

The Guardian turned away from the scientist, glared at Sevrik, then said, “Shi-i-i-i-it,” and stalked away. The scientist gave Sevrik a nervous smile, then looked down at notes that he had already memorized.

“
Not many of them are self-aware,” said Sevrik, quietly. “Sometimes I think I really am alone in a world of dumbasses preoccupied with boosting their weak egos.”

“
I feel the same way,” said Didi, and tapped his hands together quickly. “But there are people out there interested in something more.”

“
Something more?”

“
Yes. I know of at least one person I’d like you to meet, if... when we get back to Haven.”

Sevrik stood up, and the leather of his armor creaked loudly as he stretched into his full stature. He slung his rifle over one shoulder and said, “I want to keep in touch. I’m on a defense unit, so I’ll be close to you.”

Sevrik looked Didi up and down quickly, as if noticing his leg brace, squinting eyes, and unnatural varicose veins for the very first time.

“
We will stay in touch,” said Didi, nodding once.

Sevrik turned to the dark fore of the airship. Didi leaned happily against the window, and the intercom voice spoke against the hum of the bridge. “We are approaching the valley. Scouts have met no resistance at landing zone one. Fighter escort will now break and wait for our call at mountain landing zone two.

“
When we land: Laborers, put up camp as quickly as possible. Do not horse around. Keep your thoughts focused on the quiet grandeur of Haven. Do not wander away from camp. Guardian defense units, set up shop with little small-talk. Guardian offense units, get in the dark and off a demon.

“
E.T.A. is ten minutes. Strap in until you see the green lights.”

* * *

Controlling so many ghouls at once was equal parts thrilling and draining. To bring the pawns together, to see the humans stumble into the trap, to smell their panic and watch them flee – what a rush! Through the ghouls, Blindness had hundreds of mouths, a thousand hands. He was legion! Puny bullets and blades could not stop him! But he could not lose himself in an act of gluttony; he had to hold back and allow the humans to flee into the mines.

The humans ran into the mines. Blindness was satisfied to relinquish control of the ghouls. Disoriented, they fell to squabbling amongst themselves. Blindness watched a little of the drama, then concentrated on testing his next weapon.

Serpens Rex was another matter. It was easy to unleash the monster’s pent-up rage against the humans, but forcing him to sit and wait in the cold had been taxing for both of them. He was convinced that Serpens was capable of better response times than he was putting out! Was it the cold?

The boy got away – down that watercourse! Eragileak knew a shortcut. Blindness could take Serpens Rex the other way. Could they drive the boy to insanity, or should they just pick him up and shake every bone loose until he was nothing more than a wet, sopping bag? What fun it was to coordinate with Eragileak in hunting down a wounded, whipped, demoralized foe!

The cold water sucked the last bit of warmth out of the serpent. He was almost completely unresponsive. What a disappointment! With wild lashes Blindness drove him on.

Eragileak had the boy. Through his eyes, Blindness saw. That face… Blindness remembered him. They went into the cave together. That forbidden place. One last secret memory that the brain of Saul had not given up…

Gunshot! Eragileak staggered.

That’s strange, it’s leaking. The glow is leaking
…

Serpens Rex was finally on the boy. Blindness drove him to kill.

Watch out for the gun! Grab it!

…
Not like that!

The hand disappeared and pain overwhelmed Blindness. In horror, Blindness realized that he might actually lose Serpens Rex. He forced Saul to help.

Look, Saul! That boy is going to kill you! He was against you the entire time… he’s loading a gun to kill you! Make him stop!

It was over. Serpens Rex was erased. A great weapon… wasted.

With great sadness, Blindness saw that Eragileak was also dying. The boy turned to him.

That face! What arrogance! What insufferable cruelty!

“
One day,” said the boy, “we’re going to do this to all of you.”

Eragileak faded into nonexistence and Blindness was torn from the mines. He was alone again.

No matter
, he consoled himself.
Even if the boy fumbles his way out of the mines, he’ll either starve to death in the wasteland, or be taken and punished by one of my uncles
.

The consolation did not work. Blindness was overcome by a black rage. Who was to blame? In the depths of his psyche, he turned to Saul. His awareness flittered about, scared and desperate.

Now
, said Blindness.
You will make up for this. The cave. I want the cave. You will tell me what happened in that place where I cannot go…

Or I will strip you layer by layer until only agony remains
.

* * *

Thirty-Six Years Ago

“
All of the elements are already in place, Korliss!” said Sevrik. “Haven has airpower. Artillery and a ring of mountains provide an impenetrable defense, although there are a few choke points where we might add security measures. We are impregnable! All that remains now is to send agents out into the world. Teach others… no,
train
others. The demon’s hold is based purely on fear, and –”

“
No, Sevrik, no, no. We have the tools and the weapons, yes, but the
will
is not there yet. Don’t you understand? No, of course, how could you understand. Sevrik, you spend all day with military-types who stake their reputations on shows of bravado or looking for direction from a top-down structure. You’re surrounded by those people and you no longer see that the average citizen of Haven is simply not psychologically built to handle a long, drawn out war against the very monsters and demon-kings who chased our Founders here in the first place.”

“
But that’s all cultural, Korliss. Built from the bottom-up, isn’t it? Which means we could, in theory–”

Sevrik was interrupted when Didi entered the apartment without knocking. Korliss quickly turned and dimmed the lights.

Didi was glad to see that, if you ignored the constant arguments and diametrically opposed personalities, Korliss and Sevrik actually got along quite well.

“
Things aren’t going so well for the Department of Science, are they, Didi?” said Korliss.

Korliss had done well as a professor. His ideas and energy had students talking, the older professors respected his work, and he had plans for a detailed work that would possibly fill in the gaps of the historical record of the rise and fall of the Ancients using the transformation of the hero archetype, much of which had been dutifully recorded and protected by scholars among the Entertainers for thousands of years. Included in the work would be a detailed critique of the “post-humor” genre of comedy that was currently popular in Haven. Korliss had moved out of his free quarters provided by the University and moved into an apartment of his own, a roomy studio filled with art pieces made by University students that Korliss wanted to keep an eye on. The three friends often gathered there.

In the dimly-lit room, Didi removed his dark glasses and cleaned them with his eyes closed, then said, “No, things are not going well in the DoS. Funding has been cut back. We can’t pay for all the projects that should have followed the human genome map. And... many people blame the scientists for the deaths in the valley.”

“
That’s foolish,” said Sevrik, fiercely. “We did what we set out to do. How could the senate blame anybody for what happened?” He drained his beer and slammed the empty bottle onto the table between them.

Korliss looked out the window at the buildings of Haven. He knew that if he looked out into the street, he would see the lights of rooms, bars, shops. But from his seat, he could only dimly make out the silhouettes of buildings.
No lights shine upward in Haven
, he thought.
We are hiding, always hiding
.

“
Keep in mind,” said Korliss, “it’s been several generations since anyone headed into the wasteland. Memories are short and fantasy is powerful. The incident at the oasis is a painful reminder of who really rules the world. It reminds us that if a single demon found us out, then our way of life, our collective dream-state, would come to an end.”

“
Not without a fight,” Sevrik said darkly.

“
Which reminds me!” said Korliss. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain.”

Sevrik saluted with two fingers, then said, “I must admit, I think they only awarded me the Silver Sword and the Rose Heart because I was the only man in my unit who didn’t require extensive post-traumatic stress rehabilitation. They’ll be moving me from Rifle into Rangers soon enough. Did I mention that I’m the youngest Guardian to ever make Captain in Haven? Ever?”

“
Didi mentioned that you’ve mentioned that four or five times, yes. But tell me now, Sev, why is it that you didn’t need a complete psychological overhaul after all that business?”

Sevrik laughed loudly, then said, “A little power and responsibility can go a long way toward making a man forget that he unloaded no less than seventeen clips into the worst monsters that Hell has to offer. Three of which were emptied while lying down in some monster’s guts, I might add. I do remember the smell in my dreams, though…”

“
Gods!” said Korliss. “You’re disgusting, man!”

Didi spoke up, saying, “Don’t fault him for the pride we all feel in this circle, Korliss. You’ve also been up to something in the name of extending your influence.”

“
I was going to bring that up,” said Korliss, smiling as he refilled his glass. “It involves your budget cuts - and empowering our circle in general.”

“
Our circle?” said Sevrik. “You make our gatherings seem so... conspiratorial.”

“
Let’s be honest,” said Professor Korliss. “They are. We three are young, we’re ambitious, and we’re skilled in our fields beyond anyone in our generation. Even the old generation, the power elite, are discussing us. We have little competition among our peers, and it’s my firm belief that someday Haven will be ours.”

“
Our weakness,” said Sevrik, “is that none of us are politicians.”

“
Which brings me to the topic I’ve been skirting around,” said Korliss, “and to which Didi referred. The twelve-year elections are coming up in a couple of years.”

“
From what I hear at the training grounds, it sounds like the old men are already sweating.”

“
It’s early, but they’re sweating for a reason,” said Korliss. “So far the prime minister and the senators have been thought of as individuals, people with their own agendas and their own constituency that they have to pander to. There’s a young man, a University graduate, who is popularizing the idea of party-rule.”