That was what truly terrified Wodi: The thing knew him, it remembered him. Wodi could not open his mouth to call for help, but his lips peeled back in an involuntary grinding hiss. The thing’s hand clamped down, soft as a coffin lid, then Wodi could no longer breathe, but could only choke on the building pressure.
Something clattered against the stones, the demon’s head jerked - suddenly Marlon crashed into the demon’s legs and all three tumbled into the ground. Wodi skidded along the ground, face and hands raking against hard stone before he splashed into the thin stream. The beast was on its back and he saw long black limbs flapping in the air. Then he saw Marlon running back the way he had come, shouting, “Run! Run!” Wodi had not dropped his spear the entire time, but he also did not think to use it, either - he rose and ran, desperate to be away from the vengeful monster.
Wodi and Marlon tore through the woods, tripping, panting, mad with fear. Soon Saul joined them.
“What was it!?” shouted Saul, falling behind.
“Demon!” said Marlon. “A demon!”
“Where’s Hermann?” said Saul. The others ignored him. “Where is Hermann?”
There was a long, terrible scream behind them. Silence, then the scream redoubled. Wodi slowed, then stopped. Saul stopped, then Marlon as well.
Wodi listened, then said, “God’s death, man, he’s screaming for help.”
“It’s Hermann,” said Saul. “That demon, it’s...”
“Keep running!” shouted Marlon. “That’ll be us screaming, too, if we stay.”
None moved. As they caught their breath, the cries for help were unmistakable. Hermann was in terrible agony, his nerves played like an instrument.
“Why doesn’t it just kill him?” Saul hissed. “I can’t stand this!”
Though the idea of confronting the thing was unthinkable, Wodi was more scared of the idea of leaving the man to whatever torture the flesh demon could dream up. He thought for a moment, then said, “Marlon, Hermann’s a doctor. We’re going to need him.”
Wodi watched Marlon’s silhouette in the darkness, immobile, silent.
“First wound we get,” said Wodi, “first broken bone, first deep cut that’s dirty, we’ll wish we had him.”
Marlon’s black silhouette said nothing. Wodi felt him slipping away. “Marlon, that’s the same demon that attacked me. It remembered me. And now it knows you, too. If we leave, this won’t end here.”
“Alright,” Marlon said finally. “You two on either side of me. Keep it hemmed in with those spears. I’ll try to get in close and... finish it off.”
No more words were said after that. Slowly the three trudged through the woods towards the flickering light. The screams mixed with panting, ragged breathing, as Hermann was either dying, or losing his mind, or both. They returned to the stream, then passed by the area where the demon had ambushed them. The stream snaked around a rise of stones. Over the rise, they could see the light flickering, shadows shifting behind a line of trees like the gates of Hell opening. The screams died into ragged sobs. Wodi gripped his spear, the only thing that felt real in this waking nightmare. Their bodies could not move any faster than a walk. They only trudged forward, weapons held before them, a ritual hunt enacted in a world frozen stiff.
They rounded the hill of stones and came to the meeting place. The demon stood in the middle of a black pond fed by the cold stream. The thing stood still as a statue, water up to its waist, with Hermann held in its arms. Now Wodi could see the mystery of the purple light: The flesh of the monster’s overhanging gut was thin, and the strange organs within cast the hellish glow. There were twisted coils of shadowy, black intestines pushing up against the glowing stomach, eating up some of the light.
Hermann seemed asleep in the arms of the demon. His legs hung limp and one foot touched the surface of the water, an infant soon to be baptized into the one true religion. Wodi looked at the twisted, knobby cords of the demon’s long arms and saw that one hand was latched onto Hermann’s head, a hooked thumb in his ear and a bony, segmented ring finger in his mouth. Suddenly the thumb and finger rotated, grinding slightly, Hermann jerked with a piercing shriek, then Wodi also seemed to come awake - he realized that Saul had been mumbling while Marlon cursed violently, each dealing with his encounter with a god in his own way.
“That’s enough!” cried Marlon. He raised his club and knife at the thing, shouting, “Get out of here, or we’ll kill you!”
The monster seemed in no hurry. Its face was impossible to read, for the light down below only served to stretch shadows across its bony contours. The monster acknowledged them by turning about in the water and slowly making for the far bank.
The three youths stepped up to the water’s edge. They took turns hurling insults at the monster. Wodi shouted at it so hard that his head shook with impotent fury. Finally the monster reached the bank, set Hermann down on the far edge, then turned back to the three. It slowly waded back into the pond, then opened wide its awful mouth and shrieked one long scream that danced in and out of the human range of hearing. The shriek drowned out their cries and hammered at their skulls; Wodi felt terrible waves of nausea crippling his resolve. As if trapped in a nightmare, he saw his hands go limp, saw the spear of the torturer clatter along the ground and then disappear into the black water. Saul’s entire body went limp and smacked into the ground, a boneless sack of meat.
It was difficult to tell when the demon stopped screaming, for a dull buzzing sound was all that remained of their hearing. Wodi watched the demon tilt its head and gaze upwards, suddenly still. It seemed to be listening to some distant voice. There was nothing left in Wodi, neither resolve nor fear; he merely watched the demon’s unnatural, stretched-out frame, like a morbid sculpture shaped by an alien, degenerate culture. The demon turned its shadowy face back to the three. Wodi stared back at the black orbs lodged in its head. The eyes were not mirrors to the creature’s soul, but were instead holes that led to an empty, black abyss, a void without morality or identity.
The monster gave a long, tired sigh. Slowly it turned away from the three, casting them into darkness, and then trudged through the water, long arms dangling uselessly at its side. The creature rose onto the far shore and ignored Hermann as it disappeared into the dark forest. The three boys stood still for a long time, listening to the labored breathing of the beast as it shuffled through the undergrowth. Finally there was silence, and they were alone.
Hermann stirred, rose onto his elbows, and stared at the others on the far shore. Everyone knew that they should be dead, and seemed more confused than relieved at the mercy of the demon.
* * *
The four rested for a while, then Marlon sprang up suddenly. “Others will be coming,” he said. “If that demon wanted reinforcements, it’ll send a signal to others that -”
He was cut off by the sound of rustling nearby. They froze. Just then two people emerged from the woods, a thin, pale woman with brown hair, and a short, beefy, balding man with fierce eyes. They smiled, and the four companions instantly knew the newcomers were fellow citizens of Haven.
“So there are others!” said the man. “We thought sure we heard some kind of slaughter.”
“There was a slaughter,” said Marlon, still crouching, ill at ease.
“Peter,” said the woman, “give them some of my milk.”
The man furrowed his brow, bristling at being ordered around, but he dutifully dropped a heavy backpack and opened it. Inside there was a treasure trove of shining nutrimilk packets. The four companions instantly dropped their guard and gathered around the bag, happy to sip from packets that tasted like home.
As they drank, they passed around introductions. Iduna was the woman’s name. Because she and Peter were the oldest, Wodi had the distinct impression that “mom and dad” had just come home to feed the kids.
“You woke with this nutrimilk?” said Wodi. “It was yours?”
Iduna nodded, said, “But it’s ours now. We share it.”
/> “And you?” Wodi said to Peter.
“I was given nothing,” he said. “I came by Iduna because she was calling for help. She had all the food, but couldn’t manage to carry it all!”
Peter laughed, and for one second, and one second only, a wave of pure hatred flashed through Iduna’s face. None saw it but Wodi.
“We have to move,” said Marlon, tossing a stack of empty packets on the ground.
“Further up the stream,” said Iduna, “there’s a place where we might stay the night.”
“Fine, fine, let’s go.”
As they turned to leave, Wodi felt naked. Unwilling to enter the black forest empty-handed, he looked about the area for a weapon. By some strange and meaningful accident, the white spear of the torturer had washed up on the bank and was pointed directly at Wodi, and none other, as if it was ready to be taken up by its master once again. Wodi retrieved the weapon and held it aloft. He watched water streaming from the thing and he imagined that it was blood.
Chapter Four
A Human Sacrifice
Sevrik entered the apartment and saw Professor Korliss Matri smoking near the balcony. Only a single light shone from the kitchen so that Korliss’s eyes were covered in darkness. He was tall and thin, his long black hair was tied in a bun, and he wore dark clothes. He seemed worn and hollow. His mouth was wide, his lips almost effeminate, but there was something sharp and militant on the other side of his soft features. Sevrik knew that in many ways, he and Korliss were opposites.
“Were you followed?” said Korliss.
Sevrik found a chair and sat down heavily. “I’ve got three aides waiting in the car and a guard detail of half a dozen men, one of which is waiting just outside the door. You don’t often see Guardians in their armor this close to the University, so every kid on the block is sitting at his window right now wondering what exactly is going on. Yes, I was followed.” Korliss moved but Sevrik stopped him with a dismissive wave. “It’s too late for caution. Too late, old friend.”
Korliss burned his eyes into Sevrik, then jerked his head upward – and expression that no doubt meant “Out with it!”
“Listen, Korliss,” said Sevrik. “It’s not just our Project that’s missing. I think there may be at least seven Havenders missing.”
Korliss’s face froze as if dead, then he sighed and stumbled to a chair near Sevrik. “Who?” he whispered.
“A young Guardian. A judge. A University professor, a doctor, two students… a laborer. In total, three youths, four adults. And those are just the ones that we know about. Who knows how many more will prove to be missing tomorrow?”
Korliss ignored the question, so Sevrik plowed ahead, saying, “Korliss, how did you know that our Project was missing in the first place? After you contacted me, I went to Didi. He already knew as well. I had to wait until reports came in for missing persons before I could officially make any moves - and even then it made things very difficult for me, Korliss. Imagine my morning! Imagine the Head of Guard of Haven trying to explain to his soldiers that three or four people missing from work for a handful of hours constitutes reason to sound the alarm and scour the entire island!”
Korliss turned slowly to Sevrik and said, “So Didi hasn’t shown you his NeuSen Array?” Sevrik said nothing, only glared. Korliss smiled cynically, then said, “The Neuron Sensor Array. Take a look, friend – it’s really something!”
Korliss punched in the keypad near his chair and a black table nearby crackled to life. Blurred images played on the surface as Korliss navigated through various programs, then a holographic image unfolded above the table. In the darkness of the living room, Sevrik was bathed in the light of an image of a glowing human brain. Green folds twisted like a labyrinth inside of which thoughts whirled as bright orange fireflies, a visual representation of synapses firing.
“It’s… beautiful,” said Sevrik.
“It’s Project,” said Korliss. “This is the mind of our ultimate weapon.”
Sevrik tore his eyes away, then said, “But Korliss, we made a conscious decision to never track our Project! He was to remain free, always free, so that –”
“Oh, Sevrik, you know Didi. All that he tells us and all that he shows us are nothing compared to the secrets he keeps. I’ve no doubt he’s ashamed of the NeuSen; he never made it, he found it. It’s Ancient technology.”
Sevrik leaned back, overwhelmed by the notion. People rarely spoke of it, but it was no secret that humans once covered the earth. The Ancients lived in great cities of stone and glass built so high that they blotted out the stars in the sky, they consumed forests and gutted mountains the likes of which no longer existed anymore, and their sciences bordered on something like magic. No one knew for sure what happened to them; the only truth now was that demons ruled and the remnants of mankind lived in the shadow of the demon.
“The NeuSen Array,” said Korliss, “was keyed to resonate with the mind of our Project and with the minds of a few dozen random citizens of Haven. Didi was able to figure out that much of the strange device. Apparently the process can be done by touch alone, so Didi probably used scientists that he works with –”
“So he could have projections of their minds as well?” Sevrik interrupted. “Why bother?”
“Because the NeuSen can’t track the location of a mind. It lacks the proper points of reference. But if you key a mind and place it within the web of other living minds that are keyed into the system…”
“Then you can tell when one mind has left the web of reference,” said Sevrik. “So we know Project has gone from Haven, and is still alive, but we just don’t know where.”
“Exactly. But there’s one more thing: Anything that leaves the web of reference has a three day shelf life. Once it stays outside the web that long, the NeuSen assumes the information is irrelevant and… discards it.”
The two sat in silence. Sevrik watched the lights play upon Korliss’s lean features as he lit another cigarette. “Three days,” said Sevrik. “So we have three days to find Project… or else we practically never will. It’s now the end of the first day, and I have no clues whatsoever.”
“Clues,” said Professor Korliss. “Let’s think on that for a moment. Citizens usually don’t go missing from Haven. If only Project was missing, we might be able visit the morgue, make an examination of the bodies, and assume that one of them was our Project. Because multiple people are missing, we can assume that there is a conspiracy. What would be the point of such a conspiracy?”
“Let’s look at those who are missing,” said Sevrik, nodding to the table computer.
Korliss already had image files and rough biographies open for the seven victims. “Marlon Ziello, young Guardian,” Sevrik muttered, scanning the files. “I know the boy. Saul Hargis, young student, outstanding record. Romana W. Kyner, young student… police record, expunged. Mercule Hermann, doctor, Iduna Deira, professor, writer… both politically left-leaning. Salem Jules, laborer… in bad health, police record, list of jobs held goes on and on…”
“And Peter Remus,” said Korliss. “A Judge and former Guardian with an unimpressive record.”
“I know him,” said Sevrik.
“Look here. This is where things get interesting.” He brought up a short article on the datanet. There was a photograph of Peter Remus shaking hands with a heavy man in a fine suit. “A few months ago, the conservative Stone Warren party named him as their running man in the next election.”
“So, we have three youths whose political opinions are still unformed,” said Sevrik, “and one old man who seems to be wholly apolitical. However, we also have two people, a doctor and a University professor, who are politically active –”
“Iduna Deira may be left-leaning,” said Korliss, “but she’s written opinion pieces against the current administration, too. She is, at heart, a political radical.”
“Most importantly,” said Sevrik, “among all those who disappeared, the most politically important one is Peter Remus ?
?? a staunch conservative who could jeopardize the position of the current Prime Minister.”
Korliss tapped his controls idly, then said, “You think this conspiracy is political in nature? Why kidnap two liberals and a conservative, then?”
Sevrik stood and circled the room suddenly, saying, “Korliss, I know you see the Stone Warren Party as a backwards, repressive clan of religious nuts who want to stifle our society, and I know you see the Running Wind Party as the only progressive force that has any chance of shaping Haven into some kind of enlightened society of education and equality –”
“That’s not really the truth of the matter,” Professor Korliss interjected loudly.
“Fine, fine, I may have spoken too broadly, but Korliss, I work with these people. I deal with them every day. Believe me, those issues that the common citizen worries about and debates over… those issues have nothing to do with the everyday reality of the political elite. What matters to them – is power. Stone Warren, Running Wind, minority party… it doesn’t matter. They bicker during the day, shake hands and eat with one another in the evening, then they plot against one another over drinks before bedtime.”
“So you believe this conspiracy is political in nature,” Korliss repeated.
“Seven people have disappeared, and we have no witnesses. Who else could pull this off?” Sevrik stopped his pacing, then said, “But what I don’t understand is… why were the three youths taken as well?”
Korliss stood as well, cracked his neck loudly, then said, “As long as we’re looking for patterns, think on this: Those three youths have nothing in common except for the fact that they are from the same generation. They’re quite close in age, actually. Now, there is only one Project, Sevrik, only one in all of Haven… and our enemy, whoever he is, was able to pluck him out of the entire population and make him disappear.”
“You think the chances of Project disappearing from a random sampling of the population are…”