Agents of the Demiurge (19 page)

“Drake was an asshole,” Jerome said. “I'm not
going to miss him. For a while, though, while we were planning the
operation, I felt like I was part of the team. I was finally one of
you. I'm just realizing how much I'm going to miss that.”

Hess looked down at his hands. “As you might
be aware, I have not a thing to do with myself. And that body of
yours remains the most pathetically useless shell to ever house an
Observer. If you want a chaperone or a side kick or a traveling
companion, just say the word.”

“I'd like a friend.”

“Then you have one.”

She waited just
as he'd left her. Erik hummed a tune while he undid the convoluted
trappings that kept her in place. First he removed the lock from
the chain's links and unwrapped Simone's legs. Then he rolled the
woman to extricate her from the tarp. After that, he cut the duct
tape binding her legs together.

Erik pulled the hood from her head and
flashed his brightest smile. “Simone! I've missed our visits!”

Tangled and knotted hair crowned her head
like a drunken bird's nest. Snot and slobber foamed around her
mouth like a slimy goatee. Her eyes squinted at the light. “I want
you to kill me now,” she said.

He snapped his fingers. “Well, gosh darnit,
you outsmarted me! Now I don't get to torture you. I'm just shit
out of luck, aren't I?” Erik smiled. “Actually, sweetie, since
you
broke the rules, now
I
get to break the
rules.”

Erik spent five minutes manhandling her into
a seat. Even with her arms bound behind her back, Simone had plenty
of muscle mass to resist him with. When he had her in place, they
were both panting and covered in sweat.

“You're making me work for my reward,” he
said.

“Please don't do this to me, Erik. I never
hurt you.”

“Aw, did you think we were friends?” He used
nylon rope to tie her legs to those of the chair. Overkill,
considering he had already secured her to the back of the chair
with a tow ratchet around her waist. Over time, he would crank the
ratchet ever tighter until it became impossible for her to expand
her diaphragm. She would still be able to inhale by expanding her
chest, but it would never be quite enough to fully catch her
breath.

“Please, Erik.”

“Do you really think I owe anything to
you?”

Simone blinked tears from her eyes. “You told
me you have a question you ask all your victims. Has anyone ever
answered right?”

Erik's smiled faded. “No. Not one.”

“Have you ever considered that torture might
not be the way to get the right answer?”

“Here's the thing, Simone. It's kinda a trick
question. I want to hear the answers you people give not because
they're right, but because you think you believe them. You can't
pass my test, Simone, cause it ain't a test. It's more like an
experiment. Like a dissection, really. I use knives, dig up organs
and shit like that. Good times.”

She shook her head. “You're looking for
something. I know you are. I studied you like you study us. And you
didn't try to hide anything.”

“Thing is, tubby, you're not like me. I have
a perfect fucking memory. Anything I notice stays with me forever.
And I have lifetimes of experience telling me what I should be
noticing. What have you got? Enough brains to impress the other
cockroaches? A shit ton of memorized religious verses? You don't
know shit.”

“I know that in your heart you're serving
something greater than yourself. You are loyal, Erik. You have
rules for yourself. You break all human rules, but not the ones you
set for yourself.”

“Actually, it turns out I have been the
Creator all along. Part of the Creator, at least. I'm still
processing the news, but I'm pretty sure I don't have to follow any
rules anymore.”

Simone wept quietly as Erik set his
instruments up. A kitchen grater, screwdrivers, a drill, an old
leather belt, a welding torch, sandpaper, and more. He could have
prepared his tools before starting, but it was more fun to let his
victims watch a review of the implements.

“Cheer up, sunshine. Since I'm the Creator,
that means your answer was delivered. The Creator will continue to
create. Happy ending, right?”

“You begged when they hurt you,” she
said.

“Course I did. Getting hurt hurts.”

“What do you think you'll gain from my
pain?”

Erik frowned. “Well, I really wanted to know
how hard you would fight for life. And to hear your answer. But you
knew about the game, so all that's left is causing pain.”

“Why?”

“Well, everyone needs a hobby. And I can't
crochet worth shit.”

She continued to stare at him, hope in her
eyes. Hope that he would kill her. Erik sighed. “Fine. I'll make
you a deal. I will ask you the question. If you give a good answer,
then you get a quick finish. No torture.”

“Is there an answer?”

He shrugged. “Not a right one. But give me
the truth as you see it and I will make things easy.”

Simone swallowed. “OK.”

“Here is the million dollar question. Why do
your people hate the world?”

She opened her mouth and Erik raised a
finger. “Take some time to think it over. I want a considered
response.”

“I've been asking the same question for
almost a year,” she said. “And I think I know the answer.”

Erik spread his hands. “Really? Enlighten
me.”

“They're afraid,” Simone said. “All of us
are. We look at the world and we realize how insignificant we are.
Any sane person recognizes that we cannot control our own lives.
Deispite preaches living with dignity, but that is only possible
under controlled circumstances.

“Events outside our control happen all the
time. Earthquakes, tsunamis, forest fires, auto collisions,
diseases, other people. You think we want our lives to be perfect,
but that's not it. We just want to feel safe. But that's impossible
for us. You just laugh because you know nothing can ever leave a
mark on you. We can't do that. The world is so much greater than we
are and it can crush us in a moment.

“We are afraid of the world. That's what
drags Deispite down. We have this religion with dignity at its
core, but the only message people take away from it is that we
should blame someone else for our misfortunes. It's such a tangled
mess. Deispite is its own worst enemy.”

“All your institutions are shit,” Erik said.
“I never saw a religion that didn't undermine itself in some
way.”

“Was my answer good enough for you?”

Erik folded his arms in front of his chest.
“To be honest, chica, you got me a bit intrigued. Not enough for a
clean finish, but maybe you could earn a reduced sentence. Only an
hour or so in the chair if you keep my interest. Go ahead and
elaborate on your ideas.”

After a minute, she began to speak again. “I
told you why people hate the world. It's just fear. But you want me
to explain, so I will tell you why you are wrong about us.

“We don't want to die and we don't want the
world to stop existing. We want to live. And the proof of that is
in our fear. If we were as nihilistic as you believe us, what would
we have to fear? The only reason to feel concern over losing
something is if it has value to you. You can twist us so that we
are so terrified of the world that we choose to die, but that
doesn't change the fact that at one point we did value our
lives.”

Simone looked at him, swallowed, and kept
speaking.

“You think Deispite is about hating the
Creator. It's not. At least it shouldn't be. People fixate on
blaming someone else, but the central message is dignity. That is
the important part. Everything that contradicts that message has to
be removed.

“We are autonomous beings. We have choices
every moment about how to live our lives. People ignore the
possibilities their lives hold because it is easier to blame
someone else. They are afraid to take advantage of the choices life
offers. They cower behind traditions and rules instead of living
their lives.

“The Book of Grievances says 'Damn the
Creator'. I think that's a good start. It doesn't go far enough,
though. Damn the Church. Damn the Government. Damn anyone who takes
away my dignity by telling me I'm not responsible for my own
life.

“We have no obvious purpose in this world.
The Creator left out the instruction manual. Each of us gets to
decide our own purpose.
That
is dignity. The ability to
define ourselves and succeed or fail on our own.”

Erik stared at her.

“Those are my honest thoughts, Erik. Please
kill me now.”

He picked up a knife, looked at Simone, then
back to the knife. “I got to be honest, Simone. That was one hell
of an answer. Maybe there's something to Reverse Polish
Interrogation after all.”

“You promised to kill me fast if I gave you a
good answer.”

Erik hefted the knife, feeling its solid
weight in his hand. “I know what I promised, but I've had a change
of heart.” He studied the knife.

Simone squeezed her eyes shut.

Erik sighed. “This sets a terrible
precedent.”

Jerome packed
food and equipment while Hess prepared their bugout car. The EMP
from
Demiurge’s Dick
had scrambled any circuits within the
city, so their collection of emergency vehicles consisted of
dilapidated vehicles whose manufacture predated micro-electronics.
He topped off the fluids, swapped out the battery, filled the gas
tank, and verified the engine would turn over.

Then Erik reappeared. Jerome and Hess
exchanged a wary glance before Hess took the lead. “What do you
want, Erik?”

“Hey, easy on the hating, blue balls. I came
back as a favor.”

Hess felt his eyebrows climb his forehead. “A
favor?”

“Wanted to give you some advance warning. I
released my latest project not far from here.”

“Is 'released' a euphemism?”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Why, yes, as a matter
of fact,
released
is a euphemism for
probably bringing a
fucking army this way
. Seriously, Hess, learn the
language.”

“You let someone go?” Jerome's voice
screeched. “What did he say? What was his reason?”

“Now, Jerome, that's none of your business.”
Erik nodded to Hess. “You might want to get a sense of
urgency.”

“Erik,” Hess said. “Why did you let the guy
go?”

Erik hesitated. “Actually, it was a woman,
you sexist pigs. And she said some things that blew my fucking
mind.”

“What did she say?”

“Well, Hess, that's my little secret. Don't
worry though, I doubt the two of us have been looking for the same
answer all this time.” Erik walked through the door without looking
back.

Hess turned to Jerome. “That's the last time
we will ever see him. For some insane reason, I think I might
almost miss him.” He looked wistfully around the garage. “We might
as well get started on our farewell tour.”

Several miles
from where Erik attacked Geron, Hess and Elza had a camp set up on
an exposed hill that overlooked six villages in the distance. In
one of those villages, the people swarmed like ants to fight a fire
consuming nearly a quarter of its buildings.

The three of them stood in silence. “Are
meetings between Observers always this awkward, or are the two of
you just sore I ruined your little adventure?”

“Adventure?” Hess said.

“You were going to catch a killer,” Erik
said. “I ruined your fun.”

Hess and Elza exchanged a glance.

“I don't want to hear any more about me
participating,” Hess said.

“This is not the time for jokes.
Handle
him.”

“What exactly do you expect me to do? He's an
Observer!”

Elza clenched her jaw, but didn't say
anything further. Her man folded his arms and fixed a steady gaze
on Erik. “What kind of Observer are you?”

An interesting question. “You tell first,
Hess.”

“I'm not the one who goes from village to
village setting fires and cutting people into pieces. I want an
explanation, Erik.”

He smiled. “Do you think the Creator wants to
see the same things happen all the time? How many times have I seen
men work a field and women pound Taro into dough? It is tedious.
You ask me, I think the Creator appreciates a little novelty, even
if I have to manufacture the circumstances.”

“You think killing the people serves the
Creator?”

“Not the killing. That's just how I clean up
once I finish my work.” Erik's brows shot up. “Do you want to hear
about my discoveries?”

“Probably not. But go on and tell us.”

“They hate themselves.” Erik enunciated each
word. “These creatures don't want to live. They despise the
Creator.”

Tension grew in Hess' shoulders. “They don't
know the Creator.”

“Oh, I let them in on the big secret when
things get started. I tell them about the Great One who made the
world and sent me into it. Then I start with the cutting.”

“You can't believe the Creator wants you to
do that.”

“Why not? What I do is just a more aggressive
way to chit-chat with the locals. They beg for their lives, they
offer to give me things, they threaten me, they tell me people are
coming to find them, they tell me sad stories and happy ones in the
hope that I will start to like them. But in the end, they all
break. They beg me to kill them.”

Hess shook his head. “What you're doing is
wrong.”

Erik laughed. “Wrong? You think their rules
about right and wrong apply to us? These creatures know nothing.
They're not even real. They exist for the Creator's amusement. They
don't even value their lives. Why is it so wrong for me to cut the
truth from their flesh?”