Mobius (28 page)

The waiter stood close to the pulsating mass of flesh, prodding it with a long finger.

“I wouldn’t stand so closely,” I said.

The fat waiter ignored my advice and continued to poke at the horrible thing. “The surface here rises like an enormous blister. I think something’s moving inside.”

As the waiter moved closer to inspect, the swollen membrane ruptured, discharging a cloudy fluid. From within, a great set of jaws sprang forth, tearing the head of the waiter clean off his neck. Immediately the jaws retracted, disappearing into the mass of charred flesh, along with the waiter’s head.

I grabbed Allienora and pulled her away from the creature.

From the depths of the forest channel echoed a frightening roar, unlike any of the native wildlife. I looked up in terror as a wave of large winged beasts, like black reptiles, swooped down on the restaurant, snatching up people and devouring them in midair.

Panic overtook the restaurant. Everyone rushed for their air-cars to escape.

“Watch for flying beasts, Allienora. I’ll keep an eye on the charred mass.”

Suddenly, its outer casing split open to reveal the powerful winged creature within. It uncurled from a fetal position. Thick mucus dripped from it. It spread its fleshy wings to full extension—their span was impressive and threatening. I noticed a large bulge residing at the neck of the beast, evidently the waiter’s head embarking on its journey to digestion. When I saw the things black skin, I knew it was the Fume’s creation. A network of silver nano-fibers were embedded in the surface of its skin—the pattern and color was just like the sphincter beast from the sanitarium. It was a terrible reminder of the past.

The beast cawed and lunged at me, snapping its jaws. With the surgical tool in hand, I spun around the beast, fell to a knee, and stabbed at the base of its sinewy back. The beast reacted angrily and turned to me with a toothy snarl. As its jaws bore down on me, an explosion of flesh left the head of the beast a gruesome wad. It instantly fell dead.

“Holy shit!” I screamed.

I looked up and found Allienora with some kind of energy gun in her hands.

“A woman’s job is never done.” She winked and then helped me up.

“Thanks,” I said, trembling from my near death experience. “Where did you get that?”

“A new friend,” she said, waving to an alien behind the bar. He looked like a gorilla without hair.

I didn’t want to say it out loud, but she was damn sexy with that gun in her hands. “Prime Minister, adventurer, and monster killer. Are we having fun yet?”

“I’ve never felt so alive, Theron.” She grabbed me unexpectedly and kissed me.

Her lips were soft. I hadn’t tasted a woman in a long time. It took my breath away.

She pulled away from me. “Sorry, it’s probably not the best time.”

I was speechless. She started firing at a second wave of winged beasts that descended on the crowd.

Suddenly, a group of Guardians appeared, weapons blazing. They were excellent shots and didn’t need our help to hold down the restaurant.

Allienora returned the energy gun to the gorilla-like bartender and we regrouped with Orsteen and Morion. Soon after, Fandoral returned in his air-car.

“Get on!” he called.

Stranded patrons of the restaurant closed in upon the small craft.

“We can hold a few more!” I said.

Fandoral engaged an energy bubble around the craft. “They’ll be safe with the Guardians. No need to increase our load.”

We sped out into the forest channel, in the opposite direction of Central City. Fandoral flew the air-car close to the top of the pink plumed canopy.

I looked down at the forest. It was infested with black beasts. “We’ve underestimated the Fume, Fandoral. Instead of manifesting himself within the Guardian Sphere, he sent an army of his own creation to kill us.”

“It’s definitely a problem,” said Fandoral. “There are a lot of them out there.”

“At least we know they can be killed,” said Allienora.

“The Guardians are highly trained,” said Fandoral. “They’ll eradicate these monsters in no time.”

“What then?” I asked. “How will you proceed against the Fume?”

“I don’t know.” Fandoral hesitated. “I must consult with Nara-Narayana.”

“Nara-Narayana!” I said in surprise. “Are you saying that Nara-Narayana, the child from Sensimion’s log, is still alive?”

“Indeed. She’s still the leader of the Guardian Army.”

Allienora’s eyes widened. “The things one could learn from such a person. What wisdom has she gained from twenty-one million years of existence?”

Fandoral steered the air-car into an intersecting forest channel. We came upon a populated area resembling a medium-sized city of Earth. The black beasts could be seen stalking the city streets. The inhabitants were nowhere in sight. They had obviously taken refuge in their homes.

“Where are we headed?” I asked.

“I’ve arranged for you to stay with a friend. His stronghold will ensure your safety.”

“We’re not useless,” said Orsteen. “We can help in this battle.”

“No need to be hasty,” said Morion. “The Guardians seem quite capable. I’m delighted Fandoral would go out of his way for our safety.”

“I don’t question your courage,” said Fandoral, “but I’m certain the Guardians will soon have everything under control. There’s no need to put the four of you in harm’s way.”

I gazed down at the passing city, surveying the many sturdy structures, any of which would seem to fit Fandoral’s description of a stronghold. Fandoral, however, didn’t seem intent on landing the air-car anytime soon. He kept a straight course, flying past the city and into another forest channel. The globes that gave light to the inner world became dim, emulating a soft moonlight. The vegetation and trees were much different from the previous forest channel, as if we’d traversed an ocean and now came to a new continent of wildlife.

Fandoral took the air-car down and landed in the densest part of the forest channel. Magnificently-sized trees loomed high on fantastic root structures like stilts, propping the trunks above the land.

“Why have we landed here?” asked Morion nervously. “In the middle of nowhere. Where’s the stronghold?”

“You don’t see it?” said Fandoral facetiously.

“Of course not,” replied Morion. “All I can see are these gangling roots and the gray colors of darkness. Do you insult my perceptions?”

“Your perceptions are accurate, Morion.” Fandoral disengaged the energy bubble surrounding us, hopped to the ground, and pointed to the tree with the most impressive root structure. “Your stronghold awaits.”

I pushed a strained gaze through the darkness. I saw the faint flicker of light coming from the window of a wooden bungalow erected within the root structure. “And you’re confident we’ll be safe in this... stronghold? Not far back, I saw a trio of winged beasts. They seemed a stronger breed than the ones we encountered earlier.”

Fandoral gestured to the bungalow’s front door. “Knock hard. My friend Bardio is deaf in his left ear.”

“You plan to leave us on a stranger’s doorstep?” said Allienora.

“There’s no time for introductions,” said Fandoral. “I’ll return when the situation’s resolved.” He leaped back into the air-car, which immediately rose up and away.

THE ONE VOICE

We crept up the stairs of the wooden bungalow.
I knocked at the door and waited. From within, I heard footsteps and a progression of mumbles.

A large peephole slid open and a pudgy face was revealed. “If you’re selling junk, sell it elsewhere. If you’re looking for Bardio, he isn’t here. If you’re here to rob me, I’ve got an Intersplit gun pointed at your belly.”

“Fandoral brought us here,” I replied. “He said Bardio would help us.”

“And which of you is Fandoral?”

“None,” I answered. “Fandoral left for important matters. Do you know when Bardio will return?”

The man didn’t reply. His face remained fixed in the peephole and his eyes started to close as if he were falling asleep.

“Hey!” said Morion, poking the man’s fat cheek through the peephole. “Let us in. It’s not safe out here.”

His eyes opened wide. “You said Fandoral?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, I
have
been a bit lonely. You can join me for dinner.”

A bolt slid free and the door opened, revealing a short man with a potbelly, arms too long, and legs too short. In his hand was a carrot-like vegetable, not an Intersplit gun.

With a hobbling gait, he led us into a rustic living space illuminated by a fire blazing in a stone hearth. A ladder in the center of the room led up into the trunk of the tree, which had been hollowed for a sleeping loft.

“Sorry about my earlier hostility. We don’t get many people out in the swamp, and when we do, they always have an agenda. I’m Bardio.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Theron. This is Allienora, Orsteen, and Morion.”

“I hope you like swamp weasel.” Bardio tended an animal carcass turning on an electric spit in the hearth. He then looked up to Orsteen. “You’re a big one, aren’t you? Be a good giant and fetch a cylinder of Aqua Vita from the kitchen. Tonight we’ll dine in proper fashion. Luckily, my wife isn’t here. She’s a bossy hag who’ll be out hunting swamp weasels until tomorrow.”

I thought about the Fume’s beasts and looked out the window. “Are you aware the Obelisks have failed against the Fume? The dimensional barrier wasn’t created between the two universes.”

“This is bad news,” responded Bardio. “My father worked his entire life on the Obelisks, as an engineer. He’s probably very upset. Come, we’ll discuss this tragedy over a delicious meal.”

Bardio served his golden-brown roast with a side of sautéed roots, a salad of aromatic flowers, and a dessert of sweet dumplings.

We sat at a crowded table and ate sparingly, while filling in the gaps with Bardio’s Aqua Vita—it was a refreshing but potent liquor. When the meal was over, Orsteen and Morion retired early to the sleeping loft, leaving Allienora, Bardio, and myself to share conversation over cups of hot tea.

“Have you lived in the Guardian Sphere long?” asked Allienora. “It seems unnatural, living in a place with no sky, shielded from the infinities of the universe.”

“I need not look past the boundaries of my bungalow and swamp to find peace. I relish the small things life has to offer. As well, I have my thoughts to keep me occupied. And my wife, despite all her intolerable qualities, provides certain...
services
that keep me in the pink.”

I took a contemplative sip of tea. “Such is the way, hopefully sooner than later, I’d like to find the conditions of my life. It would be a peaceful change, living each day with only the necessities.”

“Really?” said Allienora. “I’m surprised by your desire to lead such a reclusive and simple life, Theron.”

I gazed inward. “Bardio’s right, though, isn’t he? It
is
the small things. It’s about looking across the room and seeing love for the first time. It’s about that feeling you get when you help someone in need. It’s about finding pride in your children.” I paused, thinking about the child I could’ve had with Cassandra—my unborn child killed by the Fume. I would’ve been proud of that child. I would’ve loved it with all my heart.

“What’s wrong, Theron?” Allienora held my hand.

“I’m fine.”

Bardio uncapped a cylinder of Aqua Vita. “What of you, Allienora? Have you so far lived the life you’ve always dreamed of?”

“True happiness is hard to find. So far, I’ve lived the life laid out before me—a life of public servitude, as my father did before me.”

“It’s never too late for change,” said Bardio.

“Change may not be necessary,” I said, looking deep into Allienora’s blue eyes. “Maybe we just need to be more aware of those small things, those small moments that fill our lives. We need only to recognize them as they happen.”

“Moments like this one?” said Allienora.

“Just like this one,” I said. “Happiness may be right in front of us.”

A loud snoring interrupted our conversation and we laughed. Bardio had passed out with the cylinder of Aqua Vita dangling in his hand.

I grabbed the cylinder and added a splash to our tea. “This small moment isn’t over yet, my dear.”

In the morning, all in the bungalow woke up to the screams of a stout woman. She stood over our cots aiming a sophisticated weapon. “I should feed you all to the swamp. I don’t take lightly to squatters. Before I throw you out on your asses, where’s my worthless husband? Have you killed him? Speak fast—my Intersplit gun has a hair-trigger.”

I looked around for Bardio. He was nowhere to be found. “Hold on, lady! It’s not what you think. We’re guests of your husband Bardio, who speaks highly of you.”

“You’re a liar. If my husband spoke highly of me, it would be him drudging in the swamps to feed his fat belly. It would be me sitting on the porch enjoying the subtleties of life. He cares only about satisfying the hunger of his stomach and loins, both at the cost of my toil.”

Morion, apparently faking sleep to avoid the woman, stirred from his silence. “These are hungers a man shouldn’t neglect. Otherwise, he may become susceptible to ill health and psychotic episodes.”

The stout woman turned to Morion, fixed a hard gaze upon him, and then aimed her Intersplit gun between his eyes.

“Dolia!” exclaimed Bardio, climbing up the ladder of the loft. “What’s the meaning of this? Put away your gun. Do you wish to scare our guests?”

Dolia aimed the Intersplit gun at her husband. “Bardio, you’re a stupid and gullible man. Who are these trespassers?”

I slowly got out of bed. “We were brought here by Fandoral, who assured us you’d be happy to give us shelter.”

“Fandoral, you say?” Dolia’s eyes grew large. “This is even more reason to send you packing. It was Fandoral who sent me Bardio. And, after two hundred years, he’s yet to retrieve him. I’ll be sure to inform him I’m not a sanctuary for every common vagrant.”

I put my hand on my heart. “Please, madam. We won’t be here long.”

Dolia paused, released a sigh, and then lowered her Intersplit gun. “Clearly, I’ve become soft in my old age. I’ll allow you to stay.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“So... who are you, and why do you seek shelter in my swamp?”

“We’re from Earth and her sibling planets,” I said. “We seek shelter since the Guardian Sphere is under attack by an army of black-winged beasts controlled by the Fume.”

Like Bardio, Dolia seemed indifferent to the revelation. “Well, we mustn’t let such things ruin our appetites. It’s coming on lunchtime, and I have many swamp weasels eager for a swim in the stew pot.”

Days passed, and with no word from Fandoral, we became restless. The black-winged beasts, though unseen, weighed heavy on everyone’s mind. Orsteen and I, for the majority of our time, kept a lookout on the porch. We maintained our sanity by talking with Bardio and drinking Aqua Vita at a leisurely pace.

Presently, night fell on the swamp and we ate a dinner of swamp weasel stew. Everyone sat at ease except for me. I felt unsettled and jittery and at last my patience wore thin.

“Why hasn’t Fandoral contacted us?” I said. “Who knows what’s going on out there? We need to find out. Bardio, how do you communicate with Fandoral?”

“He’s easily contacted with this.” Bardio revealed a small tile and handed it to me.

I took the device and held it close to my mouth. “Fandoral? Are you there?”

“What are you doing?” said Bardio with a smile.

“Trying to communicate with Fandoral.”

“You squeeze it.”

I squeezed the tile and the table we were eating at split in half. A translucent orb rose up and floated between us.

A female face appeared in the orb and spoke, “How may I help you?”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am the One Voice of this Guardian Sphere. I oversee all its vital core systems. How may I help you, Theron Mobius?”

“You know my name?”

“Of course. I’m a very old consciousness. My data-sphere is vast.”

“We need to speak to Fandoral.”

“Contact with the Impresario is currently limited to authorized personnel.”

Bardio leaned forward. “I, Bardio, wish to speak to him.”

“I’m sorry, Bardio. You’re not authorized either.”

Bardio’s face suddenly transformed. He seemed more dignified, more intelligent. “I’m a class one deca-helix architect. I helped build your consciousness. I’m older than you, and your superior.”

“You retired a long time ago, Bardio. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Bardio growled. “What’s happening on this Guardian Sphere?”

“A state of emergency has been issued. All inhabitants are advised to remain in their homes.”

“Show me Central City!” said Bardio.

“Data feeds are limited to authorized personnel,” replied the One Voice of the Sphere. “Please remain calm.”

Bardio stood in anger, his face blood-red. I looked to Dolia and she seemed impressed, even aroused, by Bardio’s passion.

“This only amplifies my fears,” I said. “We must leave this place. The time for waiting is over.” I pushed my bowl of swamp weasel stew forward and stood with purpose. “Where’s your craft?”

“We have no craft,” said Bardio.

“How do you acquire supplies, food, clothes, tools?” said Morion.

“As I’ve said, we live a frugal life. We live off the land, seeking nothing extravagant.” Bardio’s mood strangely went from anger back to apathy. He returned to eating his swamp-weasel stew. I wondered how old he was and if he suffered from a touch of dementia.