A fine mist coalesced into the figures of Graid and Arciss. Each stepped out from a darkened space on a side street, and took a moment to acclimate themselves. Arciss covered his nose with haste.
“What is that smell?” said Arciss in disgust.
^Life, my pathetic friend, life.^
“How can you stand it?”
“Quiet,” snapped Graid, putting a finger to his mouth. Graid tuned his perceptions into the mental wavelength Novan sent colvition transmissions on. He staggered for a moment as he acclimated to the cast-net. He reached out to Arciss’ mind.
^Remember, there is no speech,^ cast Graid.
^Yes, I’m sorry,^ replied Arciss, a little embarrassed, as he switched to colvition. ^Where are we going?^
For a moment, Graid was distracted by the avenues open to him in his mind. Though sharing a common history, the Rell and Novan people evolved with different uses for mental communication. The Rell people only used thought waves sparingly for simple communication, almost a common language. There was very little broadcast over those channels. They preferred still to converse audibly, for it opened up more avenues of self-expression. The Novans, on the other hand, crammed every minutia of their daily lives on that template for everyone to see. And though Graid ventured onto Novan often, it took even him a while to get used to it. Graid could feel those thousands of channels with billions of voices open in his mind. It filled him with a kind of euphoria to feel the whole of a civilization inside his mind. He did this without any mechanical aid — not with the implant all Novans were given at birth for mental communication. He, and all Rell, evolved the ability of telepathy without machines, though not on as powerful a level as the Novans possessed with their implants. Graid synthesized all those voices, taking a mental snapshot of the Novan whole. And what he found renewed concerns he had long ago. He shook them off quickly.
^Tonight is not a night for analysis.^
^What do you mean?^ asked Arciss, regarding the Novan skyline.
^Nothing. Come, this way.^
^Where?^
Graid smiled lightly. ^To one of my favorite places.^
Graid walked at a brisk pace, weaving in and out of the throngs of people that congested the streets. At every droa, most streets were packed with people, running, walking, sitting, staring, sexing in dark corners, killing in darker ones. There was no refuse on the streets, save for souman souls and they lay up and down, begging, pushing, finding some way to be interested in life. Typically these were people with low MPR and with not enough money to purchase an upgrade. They had to act out, in reality, what most could experience in fiction on the cast-net. CRODAM seldom interfered, as they took their lead from the TELREC, and the TELREC couldn’t care less about this souman garbage so long as it stayed where it belonged and had no thoughts of rebellion.
Along the way Arciss tried to stay focused by cescting with Graid about recent developments on Rell. Martel’s death had ignited something, not only in the Alçons, but in the general populous. His name was one of the few of the military that was known. While there may not have been any major war for him to distinguish himself, he had mentored many of those in key positions now, and they spread his name to their subordinates and their families. His death cast a shadow over much of Rell, word of his death spreading ripples throughout all Rell civilization.
Reports had come from around the planet that anger was building, not only in the military and the Alçons, but in the people themselves. For the first time, people complained to their Alçons about the lack of response concerning Martel’s death, about the threat of the approaching Ascension. Somehow, details of his final confrontation were leaked, and the weak denials from the Alçons did little to extinguish the flames.
The Alçons, in turn, had several meetings, at which a show of force was discussed. Uonil had been in contact with a senior Alçon named Devring, who was by far the most aggressive. His stature in the Council eclipsed even Uonil’s, and for the first time since Martel’s death, she quietly asked for Graid’s intervention.
^What are we to do?^ begged Arciss, only just remembering to cast instead of speak. ^Our people cannot go down this path! It takes them away from their faith, from the Kal-Durrell.^
^Then maybe the Kal-Durrell should say something about it,^ cast Graid, as they rounded another corner. The people instantly moved from in front of him, clearing a path, thanks to his immense mental influence.
Arciss stopped. ^Isn’t that what you’re for?^
Graid turned and came close to him. ^Do you think it prudent to discuss intimate affairs of our government on the streets of Novan?^
^No,^ replied Arciss, feeling suitably chastised.
^Good. Then leave it be, for the Alçons will forever bicker and debate every little thing. Focus on the here and now, and try, try to enjoy yourself! Or at the very least, try not to interfere with my pleasure.^
As they moved quickly through the streets, many women propositioned Graid, some even catching the master’s eye, and he lightly jested with them. With his open purple robe flowing around him he looked at home in the Novan environment; a rich man out for a good time. He used his mental strength to null the beggars’ thoughts as he walked, mentally pushing them down and back into the corners and cracks of the streets.
All this gradually became tremendously interesting to Arciss. His eyes were constantly distracted by the heathen environment. Contrary to Rell — where all had a purpose and there were no vagrants, addicts, prostitutes or murderers — here chaos and apathy prevailed. He had never seen so many different types of dress, smelled so many different types of food. Buildings towered overhead, replete with hundreds of ads and holo displays. One had to only look at one for a til, and its litany of advertisement would fill one’s mind. He knew that most of the Novans were irrelevant to the TELREC, superfluous to their genetic enhancement program. But Arciss wondered how even they could let the planet deteriorate to this level, how the average Novan could tolerate it.
I wish I understood why Graid is so fascinated —
^You’ve got to learn to conceal your thoughts better,^ rebuked Graid. ^There are many who delight in searching weak minds. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you.^
Arciss felt stung by this remark. He knew on Novan he was at a distinct disadvantage.
^Don’t concern yourself with me, I’ll manage,^ he cast, as he strengthened control over his mind.
^That’s better, I was growing tired of you imagining me naked.^
^What?! I —^
^Watch out!^ quipped Graid, as Arciss mentally stumbled. ^And open your eyes . . .^
Arciss looked around, and didn’t realize before how dark the section of Novan that they were in was. The facades were a dingy grey, seeming to be an extension of the night. There were few lights, and fewer cast-ads. It seemed as if the corner they turned just moments ago brought them into a nether world, full of darkness and evil intent. People still walked by, the crowds were just as thick, but they were meaner, closer, their thoughts more obvious and graphic. In the shadows off to the sides of the streets Arciss could see figures moving, undulating like a Rell sea. In some corners, there looked to be dozens of people in some great mass, moving to a rhythm unheard yet understood. Drawing his eyes away, he looked on Graid, who had stopped and was looking up into the sky. The stars were visible through the Window of the World, distant, yet relieving the sense of claustrophobia Arciss felt since they arrived. He could sense Graid felt something in the air, but couldn’t tell if it was for good or ill. Graid turned and smiled.
^Down there.^
Arciss looked down to the left, and noticed a dark stairway that led under a building. A small sign, painted neatly on wood, hung above that stairwell. The sign itself was muted by dirt and grime, so that it too blended in with the night. It read:
NO ENTRY
Graid examined the sign with obvious approval. ^Humorous, isn’t it? This has to be one of the few places on Novan that has some flair, some understanding of understateme
nt. Some call it ‘The Carnival,’ others call it ‘DaLynch.’
^How ironic that one from a simple culture, who delights in the vulgarity of Novan, would favor such an understated locale?^
^Quiet,^ sneered Graid, ^or I’ll forget my good nature.^
Near the entrance, lay a pile of bodies one on top of another. Unlike those around them, these were not moving.
^What is that?^ asked Arciss. ^How can they sleep on the streets?^
^They’re not asleep. They’re dead.^
^Dead?^ Arciss ventured a little closer, making his way through the crowds walking back and forth. ^How can this happen? How can people just walk by them and over them?^
^You studied Novan. You know how crowded it is down here, and how isolated these people are from one another. These people don’t even notice the bodies. They’ll be cleaned up the next time a meta cleaning crew cycles through this street.^
^It’s just . . . all so different, when it’s real,^ cast Arciss as he stood looking at them, their lifeless bodies casually strewn one atop another. Graid pulled him back.
^Watch out behind you.^
Arciss heard the sound of scraping metal, and turned to see two meta approaching. On all fours, they moved slowly, their appendages gauging the terrain carefully, as it appeared they carried a heavy load.
^I suppose you’ll want to watch this. Curious, this morbid fascination of yours.^
^Are they the cleaning crew?^ asked Arciss, absorbed in the scene.
^Watch, and see.^
The two meta approached the dead bodies, and reclined on their rear legs. Standing almost shoulder height, they were massive, densely packed machines. The crowd moved around them, affording them a little space, but not much. Suddenly a liquid shot out of each of them, coating the building behind the bodies.
^Here it comes,^ cast Graid.
Each meta then extended a nozzle from beneath, and a torrent of fire consumed the bodies. People still passed by, uncaring, not turning to witness the spectacle. Arciss looked around, and only he and Graid were watching the meta work. The flames started to produce ash, which was captured by large vacuum nozzles that came out of the top of the meta. Accelerant was pumped into the fire, and for a few more til, it raged even higher and brighter. Then the meta ceased their assault, at least of fire. A whitish chemical was then sprayed on the remains, extinguishing the flames. As the flames disappeared, the meta advanced, small appendages grabbing the bones and pulling them in to the sound of grinding metal. In a few more moments, all that marked their passing was a wet spot on the ground and a blackened wall that would be erased by smaller maintenance meta before long.
Arciss looked at Graid, the experience he witnessed sinking in, fleshing out his opinion of Novans.
^They are a sinful, cursed people, master.^
Graid frowned. ^I don’t know about you, Arciss, I just don’t know. Now let’s go.^
They turned, passed through the entrance to the club, and descended the stairs to a lower level. Crudely fashioned, they almost seemed unsafe to Arciss.
^What kind of place is this?^
^One that prides itself on detail and authenticity,^ cast Graid, becoming annoyed. I hope he won’t ruin this evening with his naive questions. I should have just erased his memory and left him in Rellcine.
The stairs continued down in light that was faint and yellow, the sound from the outside fading to nothingness. Cramped and narrow, they were steep, with each step thin and slanted downwards. With no rail to provide support, Arciss was constantly keeping his balance by holding onto the walls. After a while, he noticed the walls were made of planks of wood, varnished to a high sheen. He thought for a moment at the extravagance, as wood was only grown on the AG platforms, and it was quite expensive. It was difficult to make out the type of wood, as the light faded as they descended deeper. The air became thicker, and heavier, increasing the sense of closeness Arciss so keenly felt.
^I thought wood was gone on Novan,^ cast Arciss, trying to appear nonchalant.
Graid shook his head, continuing downwards, until finally, they were stopped by a large wooden door.
^Someone cast to me once; ‘leave your inhibitions at the door,’^ cast Graid solemnly. ^I cast that to you now. We are no longer on Rell, or on Rellcine. We are on Novan. The Kal-Durrell do not see you, and neither does Uonil.^
^The Kal-Durrell are all seeing, on Rell, Novan, or wherever. But I will try.^
Graid turned the knob, and passed through. The smell was the first thing Arciss noticed, strong and pungent, it hit him like a tidal wave, an odor of people sweating and sexing. The light shocked him for a moment, but he quickly grew accustomed, struggling not to look the tourist. The light was red, the color of diluted blood, that shifted often to orange, and sometimes to violet. Arciss watched the light play over Graid’s body as he walked in, and noticed the people turning to look on him.
^Come.^
Arciss stepped in, and felt his perceptions dance for a moment. He could feel there was some colvition technology at work, breaking down the emotional barriers within the people present, making their thoughts, and desires, more apparent. Arciss instantly fortified his mind, drawing on his mental defenses. He looked on the people present, and remarked at the wealth present.
Such a decadent place, yet patronized by the elite of Novan society! I recognize some here from our intelligence files. Councilmen, business owners, designates! And they all show such desires . . .
The club was split into three stages, set deep within the floor. Around them wound counters with drink and food. Many conversed on that level, as there was no entertainment yet on the stages below. Some did gather on one stage, where Arciss could sense some music was being broadcast. Partners circled each other, touching and caressing each other, engaged in some erotic dance. The walls were unadorned, colored what appeared to be plain beige. Along the perimeter small spheres were inset at regular intervals, and they were the only things to distract one’s eyes.
^This . . . this is so plain,^ snorted Arciss, his lips twisted into a sneer. ^I expected so much more.^
^What do you think those spheres are?^
^I don’t know,^ he cast, focusing his mind on them. ^They seem to be . . . some kind of colvition tech?^
Graid put his arm around Arciss, and drew him close.
^This place is only for those who want to be here. Not only is it well hidden physically from those on the streets, it emanates a mental camouflage, pushing some away, drawing others in. That’s what happened to me.^ His words were wistfully cast as he breathed in deeply, pridefully scanning the room as if he were its king. ^It drew me here, and I opened my mind, and partook of its decadent pleasures.^
^But . . . I don’t want to be here.^
^Don’t you?^ asked Graid, facing him. ^Haven’t you always wanted to be here, away from the complication that is our planet, our people? Haven’t you always wanted a place where you could be yourself, where no one would judge you, or censure you? Haven’t you always wanted to explore the darkness within yourself, plumb the depths of your desire, express every word of your unspoken lust?^
^You think too much on this. The Kal-Durrell —^
^Are not here,^ cast Graid, cutting him off. ^Believe me, they may exist everywhere else, but they are not here. The council of Alçons is not here. Now, answer my question,^ cast Graid, as he ran his hand along Arciss’ chest. ^What do you desire?^
For a moment, Arciss relaxed in Graid’s embrace, and let down the complex net of responsibility and accountability he had woven around himself since first he entered service into the Rell government. And in that moment, the room pulsed around him, into him. He could feel a throbbing, like some primitive musical beat, pulse into his consciousness. The room swirled in a blackness that was thick with heat, filled with the smells and tastes of sex. He opened his mouth, and it flowed into him, consuming his mind. He closed his eyes, and his tongue felt as if it was embracing with another, or sliding down another’
s thick member. He swallowed, knowing he was swallowing a part of this room, of this existence. He opened his eyes, and for a moment felt fear, trying to re-establish the barriers and boundaries he had before.
^No, my dear Arciss. Look around, and let yourself be . . .^
It seemed as if he was in another place. Curtains hung from the ceiling, great violet, thick swaths, embroidered with words in some unknown language. The floor pulsed beneath him, with a blackness that swallowed the feet and lower legs of those present. They seemed to float in some dark cloud, bending down to copulate in its depths.
^What is this place?^
^Is it too much for you, my dear Arciss?^ asked Graid, as he laughed to himself. ^Let me help you to understand what kind of place you are in. I give you this word.^
Sleep . . .
And his mind folded into itself, conjuring all manner of scenes of the erotic possibilities of sleep. He lay next to a man, a sleeping man, who gyrated slowly under white sheets. Arciss moved his hand between the man’s legs, and felt his firmness. Then Arciss was asleep, at the border between dream and delusion, feeling drugged, as rough hands ran over his body, violating him with an urgency Arciss found utterly intoxicating.
^There is more, isn’t there, my Arciss? Let the barriers down, let the darkness in.^
Arciss didn’t know who cast that, as Graid seemed distracted. His mind seemed to vanish, his ego fading to dust. His hands felt a smooth, soft firmness. His legs felt another’s, similar, yet softer, yielding to his touch. Someone whispered in where his ear would be, and a fire spread through his loins. He grew firm, and urgent. He entered, someone, who still faced him. It felt delicious and warm, and the moans the person made ignited anger and lust in his muscles. He thrust without reservation, without censor. He opened his eyes, and saw the face of what he desired.
“No!” Arciss let slip a soft, quiet word. But it was loud enough. Almost everyone turned to look at him, with a distinct scowl. Arciss suddenly felt those thirty or so minds probing at his, pushing, pulling at the layers that he used to mask his thoughts. One by one they were being stripped away, leading to his true self. Graid looked over at him, instantly reinforcing his mind.
^I think even Martel would be disappointed in you.^
Arciss contritely followed Graid as he crossed the room, cursing himself for his weakness.
Is that what I truly desire? Am I some falsehood, some lie?
^I remember the first time I came here,^ cast Graid. ^I was only fifteen. Finally, I had begun to get away from the scientists and trainers, and explore the world of our so hated enemy. What a revelation! Our world, our people can be so rigid and inflexible, bound to the words of doctrine, locked in a prison of our own making, self-imposed. I found such freedom here! We were all taught of the enslavement of the Novan people by the TELREC, how they surrendered their free will in hopes of creating the Cuhli-pra. Well even under that supposed ‘enslavement’ I found more freedom than I ever had on Rell. Freedom to think, freedom to explore. Freedom to find out who ‘Graid’ was. After I became used to their way of life, I found there were two types of people. The first were slaves to the cast-net, interested only in what it had to offer, forgetting the real world that pulsed around them. The others were slaves to carnal pleasure, people who were unable to enjoy the fruits of the cast-net, and instead sought to explore the bounds of that physical pleasure, whether it be illegal or immoral. In my travels, I found this DaLynch, a marriage of both where one can explore both the physical and the mental sides of pleasure. I remember I found it on a dark night, not unlike this one, after walking the streets for troas looking for something new and different. I had almost given up, when I saw that sign outside, ‘NO ENTRY.’ I knew I had found home. I spent roas here, going through women like chocolate treats, each one giving me something new and different. From that roa on I looked on the Novans differently, with an open mind, and learned to appreciate what their culture has to offer. That’s not to say this place doesn’t bore me sometimes, but, more often than not, I am amused.^
^But what of their decadence?^ pleaded Arciss like some bleating sheep. ^Their heathen attitude towards religion? Their —^
^Calm down! It’s not as if I don’t know of their shortcomings. But too many of us view them one-dimensionally. Sometimes I think ‘The Great Compromise’ did more harm than good.^
Arciss took a heavy sigh. ^Martel would cry if he heard those words.^
Graid slammed in frustration. ^Open your damned mind!^
^Salov, Graidlev!^ cast someone to Graid. They both turned, and for a moment even Arciss was stunned. A woman stood before them, clad in a simple, tight-fitting rich blue second skin, with delicate silver lacework adorning the fabric, accenting the curves of her body, through which strips of her bronzed skin slipped through. But even Arciss knew that to call her a ‘woman’ was to insult her. She was more like a first woman, a being from which all others were merely diluted copies. Her hair, a deep rich brown, danced about her head, its waves so caught the light cast from above. Her eyes were narrow, yet fully open, beckoning those who looked upon her to fathom the depths that lie behind them. She was mystery personified; a body fashioned from some metal that was so striking yet smoothed by the gentlest of flame. A tall woman, even by Novan standards, her face was commanding, almost royal. She walked with grace, a youthful face with the trained body of a mature woman. The smile she gave to Graid, Arciss knew she gave to no other, and Arciss could not understand how Graid did not fall down to her feet in worship. A man stood at her side — tall and proud, more muscular than most, with an immediate intensity in his golden eyes.
^Ahh, Selva.^ Graid turned back to Arciss. ^She was one of the first people I met here. I think she might be the reason I keep coming back.^ ^Salov Selva,^ Graid cast as he walked past her, brushing her as he passed, his hand glancing over her hips.
^Why does she call you Graidlev?^ asked Arciss quickly.
^It is a term of endearment.^
The man beside Selva stepped towards Graid.
^And I am —^
^No one of consequence,^ cast Graid, meeting the man’s gaze. He turned back quickly to Selva, a fury rising in his face. ^I cast you; never bring a man here!^ He grabbed her face, pulling it in close, squeezing it mercilessly in his hands. ^You know what this place means to me, I will not tolerate fools in my temple!^
The man put a hand on Graid’s shoulder. ^Maybe you don’t know me, but —^
^You don’t know yourself,^ cast Graid, still ignoring him.
Arciss saw what was coming by looking in Graid’s face, and backed away. The room blared a brilliant orange, as the man stumbled backwards.
^I can feel you like violence,^ cast Graid, finally redirecting his anger more profitably. ^Violence towards women, and men. You like to be the powerful one, the one to dispense reward and rebuke. How many times have you had to control yourself, so you don’t go a little too far?^ Others turned, as they could sense what was happening. A couple even activated virt-life recorders. ^You like flesh, don’t you? Not smooth and silky, or even rough and muscular. You like it stripped of the skin, the blood still wet on the surface. You like to push your hands inside, and dream what it would be like . . .^ The man struggled against Graid, trying to seal off his mind.
^Graid please,^ cast Selva, pulling on his arm. ^He’s no one important.^
^No one? No one?!^ cried Graid, as his fury rose. ^You’re right, he is no one important. No one anyone will miss. How many apathets have gone missing because of you?^ Graid exploded in the man’s mind, and reformed as an apathet, covered in filth, rags hanging along his withered frame. He shuffled towards him, reeking of excrement and disease. ^How many of them have you cradled as death struggled to do the same, pushing death away so you might keep their last moments?^ Graid grabbed the man and pulled him close in his mind, biting down into his chest, ripping away skin and flesh. He screamed in his mind, and tried to back away.
The man writhed in pain, and strugg
led to regain control of himself. ^Not like this! I am in control — I have the power . . . I am . . . the one!^
^You are no one,^ cast Graid. He sank his teeth in again, controlling his bite, so as he pulled away, he pulled away strips of flesh. ^Your hands are gone.^ And as them man looked down, his hands were as bloody stumps. ^Your feet are gone.^ And as he looked down, he found he could not stand, and collapsed on the floor. A dozen or so other figures appeared in his mind, sensing opportunity. ^I invite you, my curious friends, to taste pleasure as this man has!^ The man screamed as Graid left his mind, as his body was thrown about as a child’s doll. Graid turned to Selva, with a toothy grin that wouldn’t end.
^Never again.^
She nodded demurely. ^Yes, Graid.^
Graid moved off, settling against a rail. Arciss stood immobile, sensing the agony the man was going through, unable to decide what to do. Selva put a hand on his arm.
^Don’t worry; he’s just in a mood tonight. He means well. I mean, if he really did those things to apathets, doesn’t he deserve this?^
The man beside her mentally collapsed, falling to the floor. A few of the club’s attendants lifted his body, and carried him away, with more than a few patrons following closely behind.
^What will happen to him?^ asked Arciss.
The lighting shifted again, to a blackened violet. As Selva turned, Arciss saw a reddish glow cover her face.
^This place is not for the weak. That is the thrill of being here, sexing here, and leaving here on one’s own motive power.^
Selva came over to Graid, Arciss following slowly behind. Graid was busy mentally entertaining a few other women in the club. Selva stood patiently in front of him, while Arciss began to wish he never came.
^Choosing to ignore me?^ cast Selva, looking first at Arciss, then at Graid.
^Now how could I do that?^ he cast, as he turned, and stood close to her. They embraced, and kissed deeply. She lingered in his arms, and Arciss never thought he saw Graid so complete.
^You haven’t cast to me in a while, Graidlev. I feel as if you don’t want me.^
^How could you think that, dear Sel? I need you in ways you cannot imagine.^
She smiled. ^You always say that, but then I am left without you for roas, troas at a time. Often, I begin to think of other men . . .^
Selva knew this was a gamble, for Graid was too high a prize to be dismissed. As Selva commanded the attention of every man near her, so Graid was as the sun, and every woman who passed bent closer to be warmed by his presence.
^Sel,^ began Graid, with an aloof air, ^if you find another man who can amuse you more than I, then by all means, take him as yours.^ He paused for a moment, as the room darkened a little. ^Just never bring them here.^
They moved slowly on the floor, their limbs flowing in a delicate sympathy. She ran her hand along his face, and looked in his eyes. The light around them throbbed a rich blue, and Arciss could feel the emotion generated between them.
Desire . . .
He could feel himself caught in its sway, being at first Selva, yearning to be filled by this man of power this untamed beast, then Graid, needing to dominate another, and at the same time, to be dominated.
Selva thought for a moment, and then softly laughed. ^You know you’re the only one for me. I’ll take whatever time you can give me.^
^Then I’ll give you all I can.^
They held each other, Selva overjoyed to be the sole focus of his attention, at least, for a time. Graid looked along her arm, running his hand along its length.
^Graid?^ cast Arciss privately.
^What now?^
^Some of those people . . . they were making virt-lives! Of you, doing what you did. What if others nest them? What about the TELREC, knowing you are here?^
Graid leaned on Arciss’ mind, creating a dull pressure on his thoughts. ^This is the last time you will let what we do and who we are intrude on my fun! Do you know how many virt-lives are in existence? If there’s one thing the Novans know how to do, it is to make copious amounts of inanity. There are billions of virt-lives on hundreds of thousands of archives across these globes. Do you know how many virt-lives are made in a roa? How many authors of those virt-lives die, and their creations with them? The chance of some silly virt-life from such an isolated club making its way to anyone of any import is nothing short of farcical. Now be null, and try, please try, to enjoy yourself.^ He turned back to Selva. ^So, what brings you here?^
^You, my dear. My body could sense you were near. Like my frock?^
He came in close, letting her feel his member through his sheer clothing. ^Very . . . pastoral. I feel like tilling you earthy soil. Trying to tease me, dearest?^
^Always sex, Graidlev, and never love? Well, you might get your chance, later tonight. I never could resist you. If I can’t have your soul, then I’ll settle for your body.^
^And for some reason, dear Sel, I never could resist you. What else have we done, my sweet?^ Graid asked, as he ran his hand along Selva’s arm again. ^A little cosmetic genehancement?^
^Oh — my spots! Yes, Graid. I admit, I was bored without your company. That OLMAC stuff, Ileveit, really makes them stand out! Besides, you know how I like the whole primitive thing.^
Graid lifted her arm up, following small golden spots as they wound their way up her shirt into territories unseen.
^Well, at least it will give me something to explore later.^ He smiled, and kissed her. ^But next time, cast to me before you do something like that. You are so beautiful, just the way you are.^
^You old sentimentalist.^ Selva hesitated. ^Can’t we be alone tonight, dear one? We could leave here, and venture out to —^
^I’m sorry, dear Sel,^ he cast, interrupting her. ^Tonight I need some company. I know it’s wrong, at least, wrong to you, but I am quite hungry tonight, and I feel I might devour you whole, if we were alone.^
Graid looked into her eyes, feeling the connection he felt since they first met. He knew she was a weakness to him, a feeling he could not dispose of. Even now, though he came to DaLynch for entertainment, he could feel the pull from her eyes, the weight her voice put on his very soul, and found it hard to struggle against. The room was in sympathy to Graid’s thoughts, and pulsed even more slowly, its colors dissolving into clouds of blue-green and bronze.
^I might enjoy that,^ she cast softly, pushing her groin up against his, pulling him in close. ^I would do, whatever you want. Anything, my Graidlev,^ she cast, as she kissed along his neck. ^Anything.^
^But then where would I be, after you were gone? I am not some wolf of the mountains, on the prowl only to devour his conquest. I need to be surrounded tonight. Maybe some other night, we shall dedicate the evening to ourselves.^
^Soon please, Graidlev.^
She looked at him with eyes of sincerity, which even Arciss knew was a true rarity on Novan.
^It shall be, my love. Meanwhile, who would entertain us tonight?^
Graid scanned the room, looking over the women in couples, the women dancing on the various stages, searching for someone unique and interesting. Selva restrained her disappointment, and pointed over to the center stage.
^How about her?^
On one of the three stages, two figures had begun some entertainment, and patrons began to gather around them. A woman and a man, both nude, each were reclined on a small, cubical wooden box that was covered with a small fabric nailed around its upper perimeter. It was only large enough to support their torsos, with their hands, and legs, dangling over the side. Each of them was involved in an act of masturbation, their hands moving sensually over their naked bodies. For a moment, Arciss was distracted by the muscular male form.
^She has . . . possibilities.^ Graid glanced back at Arciss, who was enraptured by the male figure.
^Remember,^ cast Graid, ^how the Novans seduced us before?^
Arciss shook himself from his thoughts. ^Even the best of us can be momentarily . . . tempted,^ as he quickly regained hi
s composure and fortified his mind.
^It is all about control!^ cast Graid, looking on Arciss with penetrating eyes. ^Control over them, control over oneself. The ability to lose control, when it is right, and the knowledge of when to break another’s control. Rell minds are so transparent, so linear, compared with the complexity of the Novan social psyche.^
Graid turned away with a frown. He turned his attention back to the stage, which was brightly lit in comparison with the rest of the club. He tapped his mind into the game at hand; seduction. He could feel the pull and strength of the other minds, trying to exert their influence on the woman in the center. The performer shifted shields in her mind, nimbly deflecting probing thoughts, and mental commands. Graid was fully familiar with this game, the object being either complete submission of the subject because of one’s mental strength, or complete acceptance based on the pursuer’s entreaties and reasonings.
He focused on the performer’s body. She is a strong one, thought Graid, while letting his hands roam over Selva’s body. The light put in sharp focus the tautness of her muscles, the strength of her legs. Her breasts heaved with her motions, and he mentally ran his hands over them. He gave a subtle suggestion.
^Aren’t you alone down there?^
She glanced in his direction and pulled her male partner toward her. Her partner willingly complied as she ravaged his body. She pushed and pulled him, forcing him into various positions. Graid could feel the excitement build in the spectators, who slowed their own dances to concentrate on the performers.
^This could be you,^ she cast, as she pulled him down, straddling his torso. She ground her pelvis into his chest, pushing his face down into the mat. ^I’ll bet you like it rough.^
Graid smiled, and cast; ^I see your strength, your power. I know you’d like to be coerced, but not controlled. Not easily — it would be a long struggle.^
She moved down his body, striking him across the face, knocking him out. ^You probably couldn’t handle me.^ She bent down, bringing her partner back to consciousness. A little dazed, he stumbled back, remembering her surprise blow. ^Oh no. You’re not leaving me.^ She careened through the air, striking him in the mid-section with her foot. Her movements were blindingly fast, and in a moment he was doubled over on the floor. She reached down, and pulled an arm up.
The attention level in the room was now total. More stopped their own activities to concentrate on the display.
^She looks as if she will kill him,^ cast Arciss anxiously.
^It’s been known to happen,^ replied Graid, intently watching the spectacle.
She twisted his arm with a rapid motion, dislocating it. He cried in agony as it hung limp, with no connection to his shoulders. The crowd’s excitement intensified, hoping she might finish the act. In a moment, she reached down, between his legs, and grabbed his genitals. ^Stand!^ she slammed, and in great pain, he did. With a slicing motion, she ripped into his chest, her nails slicing open flesh. Some spectators doubled back in shock, others began to caress themselves.
^Could you handle me?^ she demanded of Graid. She grabbed her partner’s head, knelt him down, and forced him between her legs, rubbing herself in his mouth, suffocating him. She moaned in pleasure, coming to climax. The crowd climaxed with her, their eyes wide open, many mentally recording everything they saw. At last she came, her mouth open, soundlessly screaming. She kept herself in his mouth, until he passed out from lack of air.
^This is too much,^ muttered Arciss. ^I knew these Novans were depraved, but —^
^Most of these Novans can’t tell the difference between the cast-net and real life,^ brusquely rebuked Graid. ^Now null your mind before I forget who you are. I’ve already warned you more than once.^
Selva came close to Graid, wrapping her thin, delicate arm around his. She stood over him, almost a full head higher, and yet to look on them was to see utter submission on her part, utter devotion. Arciss was taken by how violent Graid seemed next to her, although he wasn’t even moving.
^Do you think she’ll kill him?^ asked Selva. Graid looked on, not replying. The woman in the center grabbed his head, bringing him up to a seated position. Slowly, he awoke. She planted a foot on his chest, still bloody from her nails.
^No, you probably couldn’t handle me.^ She raised her leg, arcing down the heel of her foot. The crowd was on the edge, moaning for resolution.
Graid smiled, and with little effort pushed all others out of her thoughts but him. The spectators were momentarily shocked, not knowing the cause. All her body was frozen in place.
^I am stronger than anyone you’ve ever known,^ he cast. ^Stand!^
Before she realized, she dismounted him, and stood, facing Graid. Moments later, she recovered, and relaxed her stance.
^You’re strong,^ she replied, struggling to catch her breath. ^But are you all strength and no imagination? I’ve probably been with a hundred like you.^
The stage grew black, with a thick blue haze rising from the floor. All around them, the fabric of the drapes undulated as if an airborne sea, flowing in and around those present. It became transparent, flowing veils of reddish silk. They passed through the woman in the stage, and each time one did, she became more and more aroused. They were like waves of an orgasm, visible for all to see. She shook on legs made of rubber, trying to stop her hands from touching herself, but finding she had no control. The spectators soon felt her orgasm as the curtains passed through them, each veil bringing a different form of pleasure, a different aspect of lust. One was laced with pain, another with guilt and shame, still another with sadness and desperation. The unheard throb that pulsed through the club grew thicker and stronger, almost to the speed of a heartbeat, yet slower. It slowed the pulse of their hearts, slipping them into a state of euphoria.
^Who . . . who are you?^ she cast, falling to her knees.
^Do you think I’m done? I’ve just begun.^
Her heart beat faster, as the blood raced through her body. Graid reached out to her mind, locating several hundred nerve centers. In an instant, he stimulated them. She ran her hands over her body, thinking, knowing it was covered in a gelatinous substance. She could even smell that it was sweet, and brought her fingers up to taste it. With each touch, she found she could enjoy a virgin’s pleasure on every part of her body. It was as if she had never been touched before, never sexed before. She pleasured herself, using all the tricks she had learned through her life, yet on a body that acted as if it had never felt them before. She could feel Graid was even amplifying this sensation. The spectators around her swooned with her every moan, and fell into the bluish mist, unable to control themselves. Graid stopped the image, smiling as a conqueror. She stood like some beaten warrior, her mind null, her chest heaving with stolen breath, her body awash in perspiration. She appeared as one who had traveled for many cas, who at long last had found what she was searching for.
^I am Neoc. And I am yours tonight.^
As the crowd recovered from Graid’s performance, Arciss walked around the perimeter of the club, trying to gain control over the emotions kindled in his mind.
This is our Kal-Alçon? This is what he has been doing all these cas? I know he is entitled to his own form of entertainment, but this . . . How can I bring him back to the embrace of Rellcism? He ran his hand along the long wooden bar, his eyes alighting on a young man nearby. Tall, and muscular, he had soft, pearl-blue eyes, and creamy skin. Clothed tightly in a light-blue body suit, with a flowing, sheer long jacket, Arciss fell into light cesct with him.
^How long are you here, lover?^ asked the man.
^Only as long as my friend will stay,^ replied Arciss, trying to look disinterested.
^He doesn’t look like your type.^
^He isn’t. He’s here for the women. I’m just his . . . bodyguard.^
The stranger laughed. ^My name is Sotht.^
^I am Arciss.^
Sotht smiled. ^I know.^
Arciss became more alert, sensing danger.
/>
^What are you?^
^You’re not accepted well among them, are you?^ asked Sotht.
Does he know I’m Rell? thought Arciss, as he reinforced his mind.
Sotht laughed. ^I can read you very easily. I can tell you are not used to our ways, that this form of indulgence is completely foreign to you.^
^Who are you?^ demanded Arciss, ^How can you read into me?^
Sotht caressed his partner, a shorter man who was with him but oblivious to the cesct. ^You are a simple man! Your people never have truly accepted same sex relations, have they? I mean, there is no actual procreation involved, so it really is only for personal gratification, eh? Which is too ‘Novan’ for your people to appreciate.^
He cast concerns that were true, and which bothered Arciss for all his life. He felt he was never truly accepted, no matter his intelligence, because of his orientation. To become a Steward of Graid, at such a critical time, was truly an honor, and in some ways a declaration of Rell respect for him. But some part of him, deep down, still was wary and suspicious of their ultimate motives, and felt all his superiors would be happier if he failed.
^They may be,^ cast Sotht, in answer to Arciss’ thoughts. ^It would eliminate you forever from their ranks, and would validate their opinion of your kind. Haven’t you ever dreamed of belonging, of the freedom of full expression? Ultimate disclosure?^
This man is dangerous, thought Arciss, more carefully. How much can he read into me? Where is Graid? Arciss turned to get Graid’s attention.
^Look at me!^ cried Sotht, forcing Arciss to turn back. ^I am not dangerous, merely truthful. You know, we freely accept all types of relations.^
It is all about control, isn’t it? Graid was right, and this room, this place, seems to weaken my control.
^Your decadence is well known, Novan.^
^Such anger would be better directed against your own people, my friend,^ rebuked Sotht sternly. ^And your rebuke seems shallow, and without strength. You have, from time to time, admitted the truth of which I cast. Why turn from it now? Should one ever turn from the truth, deny it because it comes from an unsavory source? I would think that if even we lowly Novans knew this truth, that you should pay heed even closer, and accept the validity of my words. I could do so many things to you, you would have such freedom here.^
^Another Novan seducer? Like the others cas ago?^ retorted Arciss. He could feel Sotht wielded considerable influence. Even with his extensive Rell training, he felt a part of him wanted him and needed him. The room changed in Arciss’ mind to suit his emotions. While he had not moved, the space between them seemed to grow smaller, the lighting focused only on both of them.
^You are too strong to be seduced, my Arciss. I can feel the immense talent within you, and the sacrifice you have made, covering and restraining your desires. How many men have you been attracted to, have you even loved, but never approached, because of your faith, because they would disapprove, because they would not understand? You desired to succeed, and you have, but at what cost? How much of you has been lost; how much of that wonderful man I’ve only begun to know, has died at the hands of your Rell masters? Why do you suppose Rell has maintained this self-negation for all these millennia? Control. Absolute control. Control of every fiber of your life. We may have the TELREC, but they only go so far. Our freedom is our dearest possession, our acceptance and tolerance our strongest trait. All those cas of penance, for what? We will have our Cuhli-pra soon, and will leave this ancient world for thousands of better ones.^
^You will be defeated! Evil has always been defeated.^ Arciss cast the words, but did not believe them. He knew Sotht’s words were true, and only respected him for casting them.
^Which of us is truly evil?^ pleaded Sotht. ^Our way, at worst, may be called decadent, but it places the individual’s freedom above all else.^
^Enough!^ Arciss could feel he needed to end this, for this man was wearing down his resistance with every word he spoke. He could feel the urge growing that he needed to be with him, above everything. It wasn’t just that the words he spoke were true, but this man had such a quality that every word he spoke, no matter how inconsequential, was beautiful, and right. His voice was a symphony of seduction, every syllable meant to invite, to convince, to persuade.
^Surrender, my Arciss. Or, do not think of it as a surrender, but instead as a victory! A victory for the true person within you. A victory for your soul over those who would categorize you, who place expectation on you. A victory over all those who looked with disapproval at this dynamic man, those who cast, gossiped — no matter how sinful — about you to every sympathetic ear or mind. They don’t respect you, they don’t need you! They tolerate you only to assuage their own guilty consciences. They like to have you around, because they can continue to discriminate against those like you, and still appear to be fair and honest. They can look in the mirror, or at their Kal-Durrell, and cast ‘look, I have Arciss.’^
^I am not the weak one I appear to be,^ cast Arciss weakly, ^I am only disadvantaged by unfamiliar environs. I —^
^Our intelligence is never wrong,^ Sotht cast, with what Arciss imagined to be a deadpan stare. The casual smile, the playful sexuality was gone. ^There are millions of us, Arciss. You will never know where we all are, but we are looking for you. If you come on this world, chances are, we will discover you. And then, like now, it will be too late.^
^So . . . this is war?^ asked Arciss.
^Only if you choose it to be. We can be lovers or fighters, we Novans. You can be honest to yourself, and your faith. You only do it an injustice by fooling yourself that they accept you.^
Arciss knew he had to handle Sotht on his own, that any lapse in concentration to warn Graid would compromise him too much.
^You need to leave my mind, my pretty friend,^ cast Arciss.
^You want me here.^ Sotht’s words had a confidence that Arciss still found utterly attractive. ^You need me here.^
^Are you ready to die?^
^You think yourself capable of killing me?^ replied Sotht, incredulously. ^The one person who has told you the truth, in your life? Not even your lover has told you the things I have told you now.^
^That may be true,^ cast Arciss as he concentrated, and began pushing Sotht out of his mind. ^But there is work to be done, and this is not helping. Good bye.^
Arciss succeeded in pushing Sotht mostly out of his mind, but he was still hanging on, lingering in the extremities.
^Arciss, you can’t get rid of me like that!^ Sotht burrowed deeper, suddenly, breaking down Arciss’ defenses without pause. ^I am here to stay, and so are you.^
Arciss straightened, his face clearing of all doubt, a casual smile returning to his lips.
^You say you know so much about me?^ asked Arciss, casually. ^You say you can see into my thoughts, know my desires, and my doubts? Then you must know what within me is paramount to all of that, more important to my sexuality, more important than the people I serve. It is my faith. My devotion to the Kal-Durrell. All my life I have faced adversity, faced trials by those who thought me inferior, or weak, as you obviously think, despite your words to the contrary. You think I cannot divine your ancestry, your connection to those polluted genes that fueled the invasion of Rell so long ago? You are just another seducer, a man whose tools are control and seduction, who has no conception of what lies outside of them. That is the problem with you, and with most other Novans. They lack a belief in the desire to do what’s right. I may believe in the Kal-Durrell, others in Holis, even some in that damned computer Mal. But the common thread is the desire to better oneself, and to help others. That is the core of faith. It is not just faith in a higher power, but faith in oneself, faith in the community, faith in the universe as a whole. It is that faith that makes one strong beyond a heathen’s conception, strong enough to face death, or torture, with hope. For I have done what is right by myself, and by my community.^
Sotht smiled. ^They are nice words, but what of Graid?
He does not believe them. What of your own people? They do not believe them. If they did, then they would view the Novans as part of that ‘community’ you cast of, and no matter what offences we may have committed, would forgive us, and only seek to co-habitat with us.^
^Such a simple retort, Sotht? We are all souman, and each of us is prone to some degree of folly. Just because one is made a Mentra, a Monitor, or a Director, does not mean they are absolved of vice, or fallacy. Graid may have a lot to learn, but that is what I am here for. I may not have great physical strength, or divine power, but I have the simple strength of a conviction, certainly unshakeable by the likes of you.^
That is my control, my center, thought Arciss. Do I prefer women, or men? That is immaterial. It always comes down to who one is; what truths they stand for. That is how I will win Graid back.
In all his cas, Arciss learned a great deal about mental combat. He never used it much, but he kept his skills fresh and sharp, sparring with partners on Rell. He preferred not to fight, not to face the possibility of killing someone. But, if the need required it, Arciss knew he possessed the necessary skill.
^Sotht, I’ve warned you, treated you with more concern than you’ve shown me. But now, you have violated me. And even now, you refuse to admit you are beaten. I may be a kind man, and you may have spoken some truth, but I will not stand for such stupidity. It’s time you learned a lesson.^
In an instant, Sotht realized Arciss had laid several traps, which sprang as he burrowed deeper. Sotht could feel Arciss gaining control of his mind, and shutting down blood flow to Sotht’s brain. Much to his credit, his expression barely changed, as his mental resources began to shut down.
This man is strong — very strong. If not for my Rell discipline, I would have no defense against him. He is a TELREC, and a strong one too.
Arciss raced through his deteriorating psyche, gathering information as quickly as he could, moving nimbly to outpace the safeguards in place within Sotht’s mind. They were destroying his memories, his neural fiber, to prevent just what Arciss was trying to do. Arciss could feel this must be painful for Sotht to endure, but Arciss needed some information.
Ahh! That’s what I needed to know.
As Arciss finished, he crushed Sotht’s mind, destroying what the safeguards never would have, putting him out of his misery, another casualty in the multi-millennial old Novan-Rell war. But before he extinguished all his reasoning, all his intelligence, he cast some last words.
^I would have been good, too. Damn good.^
Sotht collapsed, unnoticed by even his companion. Arciss made his way back through the crowd to Graid’s side.
^I know,^ cast Graid. ^I was monitoring you. You proved yourself well.^
^Thank you master.^ Arciss suddenly grew concerned. ^But what of you? He was clearly cloned from those ancient, corrupted cells, which brought shame and dishonor to our people. If he was a woman, and I was so inclined, I am certain I would not have been able to resist his temptation. What of you? What of any of the women in this place?^ Arciss motioned to Selva. ^This place is not safe, master.^
^Lessons, Arciss, lessons. There is always something to be learned, no matter the environment, no matter the company.^ Graid turned, and smiled. ^Come, Selva!^
Over near the third stage, in the shadows, Listras looked on, and saw Graid and Selva about to depart with Neoc, who flashed a wry smile back at her.
Damn her! She will scream for death’s release before I am through with her! I cannot let him go without me. I will not fail.
She disappeared behind a black door. In moments, an explosion rocked the club, sending fire out of the third stage, bringing most to their knees. The club blared in yellows and oranges, radiating a heat that made the air close and thick with perspiration. Graid stopped, and turned to look back, as the yellows faded into a reddish mist. Arciss turned to him.
^Something unexpected?^
^Hopefully,^ eagerly replied Graid.
As the smoke cleared, a woman’s figure could be seen suspended in mid air. It was Listras, and below her sat the quivering figure of a small boy shrouded in darkness. She hovered there, grasping a metal cord, slowly spinning, so the crowd could appreciate her delicious form. She wore a thin, stringy red outfit that covered little. She arched out her chest and clenched her buttocks, tensing her chiseled leg muscles. She could sense the men in the crowd were enamored with her, risking their membership in the club by taking virt-lives. What anxious unease she had as she first appeared disappeared in their adulation, as she was surrendered to the part she must play.
Circling around the boy beneath her three beasts prowled, groaning with mouths wide open. Large, several times the size of a man, they were a dirty orange, with patches of grey swirled in their fur. One of the creatures stopped for a moment, crouched down, and stretched its front legs, extending two sets of thick, black nails, that scraped the floor as the creature drew them back in. The other beasts paused, their mouths hanging open to reveal dozens of razor-sharp teeth, covered in drool. Their eyes surveyed the crowd with an almost souman awareness, a cognizance of why they were here, and what they were to do.
Emotions radiated through the crowd. At once could be felt the terror within the boy, the longing for escape, for safety. Many within the crowd laughed and touched themselves, savoring raw feelings they hadn’t felt in so long. In mroas, the hunger of the beasts could be felt, the need to rip apart flesh and bone, the bloodlust for the boy’s tender flesh in their mouths and throats. Graid turned to Arciss.
^This place learns fast. It had never done this before!^ he cast with glee. ^I don’t know if I should be angry my idea was stolen, or flattered,^ cast Graid, laughing.
Arciss crossed his arms, watching the spectacle. Selva grasped Graid’s arm.
^Those look real.^
Graid nodded.. ^They are. Ulthangs, and male by the look. I’ll bet it cost this club plenty to have them shipped in from an AG platform. They are truly vicious beasts — quick, strong, and remarkably intelligent.^ Graid glanced back at Arciss. ^I think it might even be smarter than some people.^
Arciss, who had seen very few animals in his life, felt fear rise within him.
^This is repulsive, master. We need to leave.^
Neoc turned to Graid. ^Come, lover. Our ecstasy awaits.^
Graid looked at Neoc closely, her eagerness tempered by something hidden.
^You are afraid of this woman, this . . . Elehtria, aren’t you?^ Graid probed her mind deeper. ^She frightens you, her strength, her self-control. No Arciss, we shall stay, and I am very thankful we shall not miss this spectacle.^
Listras looked up slightly, and saw Graid and his group turn, and walk back to watch her.
Good. Now, I must win him.
One of the beasts could restrain itself no longer, and lunged at the boy. Listras descended on it in an instant, grabbing its front claws, lifting it high in the air. It was one of the smaller ulthangs, but even still it was five times as massive as Listras. She turned it on its back, and seated herself on its genitals.
Arciss let out a small cry. ^What is she doing?!^
Graid kicked him a little. ^Watch yourself. She is taming the beasts.^
She settled down on the ulthang, and rode him hard, the beast trying to scratch her, to claw her, but she skillfully restrained its claws. She appeared to reach climax in front of the spectators, and as she did, she reached down, and twisted the beast’s neck. It lay motionless, blood oozing from its head. A mental cheer went up in the crowd. Graid smiled, and relaxed a bit.
^She is amazingly strong,^ cast Graid in admiration.
^She is having sex with a beast, master!^ cried Arciss. ^You cannot think to bring that filth into —^
^Be null, Arciss.^
Arciss, feeling truly out of place, stepped back, looking around the room. Selva took pity on him.
^Don’t be too upset.^
^What do you mean?^
^This is our way, now,^ cast Selva,
running her hand on his back in sympathy. ^So many of us believe everything we do now doesn’t matter, that the Ascension will cleanse all our sins. More and more people indulge desires, that just fifty cas ago would have been considered wrong.^ She smiled at him, a sweet, innocent simile. ^You have a great luxury, being born Rell. You have a reason to struggle against vice, and sin, everyroa. Most of us have lost that reason.^
Arciss felt consoled, somewhat more at peace. ^Thank you. I think I see why Graid likes you so.^
^Pay attention, you two,^ chastised Graid. ^Things are just getting interesting.^
On the stage, the other two ulthangs backed away from Listras, after watching her dispatch one of them so quickly. Listras climbed back on the metal cord and ascended again into the air, hovering over the boy. Blood dripped from her, spattering on his head.
The ulthangs soon took up their stalking of the boy again, going around in a wide circle, their mouths hung open. The smell of death was in the air, and every spectator was fixed on Listras. Suddenly, one of the beasts pounced on the boy, seeming to reach its mark. The crowd gasped, as some unseen force yanked it, mid-flight, and threw it down to the ground. Listras materialized and pinned the ulthang down and began to straddle it like its former friend. The other ulthang, sensing her to be compromised, jumped on her back, clawing and striking at her.
^Someone help her!^ cried Arciss.
^Calm down,^ cast Graid.
Listras somehow deflected the third ulthang with a mighty swing, with a speed as blinding as she used earlier, and sent it cascading over her. While it was stunned, she raped the beast beneath her, and twisted its neck. As she rose, the last ulthang also rose, glaring at her, growling and baring its teeth. It was the largest and most powerful of the three, and it took a position that put the boy between them both.
^Is the boy to be sacrificed?^ asked Arciss.
^Watch and see. You have no appreciation of fine theater.^
The ulthang tensed its rear legs, preparing to strike, when in an instant Listras was on top, her arm around its neck, her legs wrapped around its torso, She ground herself into its back, as she slowly suffocated the breath from its throat. As it died, she bit into its neck, gorging herself on its blood.
^It’s over, master. Let us leave,^ pleaded Arciss, his tolerance totally gone.
^Not yet! Watch and learn,^ answered Graid, absorbed in the performance.
Listras stood, and looked at the boy with hungry eyes. The crowd could feel the desire, the need for a final kill, and everyone chanted at her;
^Death, Rape, Murder.^
The ground around her glistened a pale red, and for a moment Listras felt the exultation of the kill, the glory of exhibitionist murder. Something primal welled within her, challenging her training, making her realize, at last, what was so appealing of this violence to so many Novans. Never before had she felt like a Holis; one whom takes life as they choose. She swallowed some of the blood on her mouth and its taste fired her mind and body, freeing them from the disciplined life she knew. She looked over at Graid, he whom would be her next kill, and wished she could kill him also in this fashion, on display, for all of his Rell brethren to see.
I must finish this first.
Listras crawled to the boy like one of the ulthangs she killed. The boy cowered in fear, his sweat an aphrodisiac to her, and the spectators. She could smell the bitterness of his excrement, befouling his pants. Listras was always worried she would be unable to do this, this sadistic act, but now she welcomed it, she enjoyed it. In an instant, she tore the clothes off him, ripping his shirt off him, and throwing it to the crowd. She tore at his pants next, pushing him down, holding up the soiled clothes for all to see. She put her finger in the brown smear, and scooped some off. She dropped the pants, and wiped the paste on the boys cheeks, one straight line on both his cheeks. The crowd, in their minds, roared with delight. They cast at Listras, some wanting her to draw out the play, delight in pushing this boy to his psychological limits. Others wanted immediate satisfaction, to delay the climax no longer. All only had visions of rape and murder in their minds.
The room pulsed and throbbed, the walls seeming to bend in towards the stage Listras was on. The curtains rippled as if an unseen breeze flowed over their surface. Arciss could feel the emotions being heightened, could feel the need for satisfaction, for release. As he glanced at the faces of those around him, he saw it reflected in their eyes; the loss of control, the forgotten morality. He could glean identities of many in the club, and though there were many depraved persons there, there were also many for whom this was their first time in a place like this, who were anxious about even being in here. All those reservations no longer existed, were no longer permitted by whatever governed that place. He sighed to himself.
How far they have fallen.
Something finally snapped in Arciss. ^Surely . . . you don’t enjoy this?^
^Don’t you?^ cast Graid back. ^This is something you have thought of, isn’t it, buried deep within yourself? Well, look, and consume this visual feast. Never will you be able to see this again, never will you need to face judgment for witnessing this.^
Arciss looked over at the stage, where three great beasts lay dead, bleeding around the poor young boy. His heart felt heavy, as he thought on Graid, this leader of his people, who with all his great power, would do nothing to stop this, do nothing to save the life of that child. He felt great shame well up within him, feeling all the people who taught Graid over the cas had failed utterly, that Martel, in this moment, was a failure. He understood Valcha’s words and her sentiment towards Graid. He knew that if this is what Graid considered entertainment, then all was lost, that the whole of the Rell people were doomed to destruction. If what Selva cast was true, then at least the Novans have some excuse. But what of Graid? Why does he degenerate to their level, stand idly by as the innocent suffer and evil flourishes? He looked over at Graid, not with the eyes of a fearful follower, not with the eyes of one afraid for his life, but with eyes that harbored the strength of conviction, of moral integrity. Arciss felt no superiority in his faith, merely the knowledge that he did what he felt was right. He faced Graid with drawn lips, sunken cheeks, and something akin to disgust welling in his throat. He knew he was powerless to stop the events of this night, powerless to convince Graid to turn away. But he knew Graid could read his thoughts, and hoped, in some way, they would stay with him. What did you say earlier Graid, when we discussed the moral correctness of having Kolob kill himself as an infant? ‘We corrupt and seduce an innocent, so he may murder himself as a child. What of honor? What of dignity?’
Graid felt Arciss’ gaze, and could not bring himself to return it. A tear fell down Graid’s cheeks, and then his face exploded in laughter. The crowd laughed with him, Selva laughed with him, along with Neoc. Arciss thought he had never heard anything more ghastly in his life.
Listras decided to finish things quickly. She pushed the boy down, mounting him as the crowd thrilled in the violence of her motions. Despite his fear, the boy’s member was stiff, more instinctual reaction than sincere desire, and she mounted him, glorying in the final conquest. She could feel every person in the room mounting and riding the boy with her, so closely were they tapped into her sensory perceptions. Listras punched the boy, slapped him, bit at his ear until blood flowed down, mingling with the dead ulthang’s blood. The crowd groaned in ecstasy. She rode him for what seemed like an eternity, climaxing countless times over his youthful frame, watching his expressions turn from terror, to despair, to sadness, to finally a blank, coma-like resignation to his own death. Sensing she had come to the end, Listras slipped one hand under his neck, lifting the boy’s head up. She raised her other hand high over his head, and tensed all the muscles in her body, a perfect portrait for virt-stills.
^Murder! Murder!^ was all that was cast at her.
She looked down at this innocent child and something within her regained control. It was some part of her that still exi
sted before her TELREC training began. For though the beast that she became would have killed him for pleasure and delight, and the TELREC that she was would have killed him as part of her duty, the woman that she was now felt that she could do no more pain to him. She brought her hand swiftly down, knocking him senseless.
CONTINUED IN PART II: ENTER THE FLAME
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