Earth's Last Angel (6 page)

On their travels Bill notices a strange, small, circular building with a large dull black dome roof. The building is gray, has no windows and is apparently locked up tight. It is guarded by two huge figures dressed in white, hooded robes, stationed at each side of the access door, hoods covering their faces. This seems a little unusual in a city so apparently open and safe. Bill feels a cold shiver up the back of his neck, he shakes it off.

‘Maybe I'll ask Varik next time I see him.' he thinks.

Three nights later Bill is taking a stroll in the quiet cool of the evening. He happens to pass the strange little building he had puzzled over earlier, this time it's lit up with its doors wide open. A gagged and struggling young couple is being dragged inside off the street by the white robes. Bill stops and fades into the shadows to see what is going to happen. The chill sensation returns, something sinister is going on here, darkness in the City of Light?

Powerless to help, Bill watches as the young couple is dragged onto a raised central circular platform. A scarlet cloaked figure steps up on to the platform with his back to Bill, apparently making a judgment on the couple, raising his arms up then dropping them with a chopping motion. The doors are then slowly closed. It seems a bit strange, but the platform appears to shift then drop through the floor, the doors now closing completely. Bill shakes his head, he must be seeing things, he hurries back to the palace a bit shaken.

‘You OK?' asks Sheona from a mass of bubbles in the spa bath, a little concerned.

‘Yes I guess so, I'm just a bit tired, I'll grab a shower then we'll eat in.' replies Bill over his shoulder on his way to the shower.

‘OK, I'll order some seafood then.'

The next three weeks are taken up with trade deals and some minor diplomatic duties. Bill soon forgets the strange events that happened that night.

A further six weeks pass, finally they are summoned to a meeting with The Word.

A tall elegant Mazuban of athletic build with brown neck frill slicked back and sharp blue eyes admires his own reflection in the hallway mirror, inspecting his tanned face for imperfections, he is startled by the movement of the door sliding open at Bill and Sheona's room.

‘Ah just in time, I'll escort you to the throne room.'

‘Thanks, Web.' replied Bill.

‘I'm glad it's taken a while to meet The Word, it's given us a chance to have a look around the city and meet your people.'

‘The parks are absolutely stunning!' comments Sheona.

‘And how are the people…friendly?'

‘Yes of course, only they don't seem to know much about anything outside the city. Also I didn't see any schools or libraries.'

‘It's true…there is no education except that which is given by God's chosen one, The Word. He teaches us all we need to know.'

Web's reply sends a cold chill down Bill's spine. He had no idea of the full extent of the Great Dark Age, his island home had slipped under the radar, but for how long? Now the memory of that strange sinister night three weeks ago crosses his mind. ‘What the hell have I gotten us in to?' The look on Sheona's face shows she senses his concern.

They approach the throne room, its massive doors appear to be at least a meter thick, with carved decoration overlaid with pure gold. Precious gems feature prominently in the intricate artwork. As they get closer, the doors open as if by themselves to reveal a long, gloomy, cavernous, pillared hall.

Floor and walls are finished in black polished marble. Finally the hall opens up to reveal the illuminated circular throne room.

In a semi-circle around and behind the throne are three massive golden crocodiles, revered as Crocs, standing upright with arms spread out and heads looking down to the top of the throne. One Croc stands directly behind the throne, with one on each side creating a massive cloak effect over the throne. The scene is lit by a single shaft of light piercing the gloom from a small, mobile, light tunnel, high up in the cathedral ceiling, lighting up the circle of the throne room as would a spotlight. In front of the throne, the floor is raised as a circular platform. They step up onto the platform and take a central position.

Seated on the golden throne is The Word.

‘Welcome, Ambassador William, and of course your lovely wife Lady Sheona,' rising his full 102 cm frame up to stand in front of the throne, trying to create the illusion of grandeur. Flicking back his scarlet cloak, he descends the steps to stand eye level with Bill. He extends his hand to be kissed, instead Bill grabs his hand and shakes it. An evil smile creases The Word's veiled scarred face. It will be a pleasure eradicating this vermin. The Word turns and ascends the steps and seats himself back on the throne.

Bill glances around him, in the gloom he senses the presence of someone concealed behind the pillars. With a feeling of foreboding he squeezes Sheona's hand to reassure her.

‘My counsel is curious about you, Ambassador William and Lady Sheona. You seem to have popped out of nowhere. Step forward children of the Almighty.'

At his command six people appear from behind the pillars and step up to the edge of the light ring, each wears the same dark blue hooded cloak completely hiding their facial features.

‘Ambassador William, we know nothing about you, what did you do before becoming Ambassador for your country?' asks a tall male voiced figure.

‘Well, we export and import produce for my province.'

‘So you have a large board of directors on your company, how many executives?' asks a smaller Mazuban.

‘We don't have a board of directors, our company is a privately owned one.'

‘So how did you manage to finance such a large venture on your own?' asks a female's voice.

Bill shifts his feet. ‘This is turning into an interrogation and I can't lie about the origins of our wealth, not to this lot, they'll see straight through it.' he thinks.

‘I, err…we received it as a reward from our former employer.'

‘Who is?' she pressed him.

‘The Croc of the United Kingdom of Sobektar.'

‘Didn't they go off planet years ago? around the year…2600 perhaps?'

‘Yes that would be correct,' swallows a now concerned Bill.

‘Where in the hell are they going with this?' he wonders. He shoots a nervous smile to Sheona who is gradually losing the color in her face.

The female starts to go after Bill like a rabid dog, it soon becomes very clear where this is going.

‘Considering it's now 2689, that's 89 years ago Mr. Ambassador,' her pitch and volume of her over-righteous voice rising slightly.

‘Can you please tell us where were you born?'

‘I was born in the western province of the Great Southern Land.'

‘And now if you please, when exactly where you born?' she asks in a low hiss.

So this is what they are up to, they want to know how old we are, and how we've done it!

The atmosphere hangs like a hot, wet blanket over them sucking the air from their very lungs, after what seems like an eternity, with everyone except Sheona, who has turned very pale, leaning forward in suspense.

The Word hangs forward on his throne like a half starved vulture licking his lips in anticipation.

‘I was born on the third of July, 2116.'

‘That's 573 years old! Yet you both look no older than 30!' explodes the female.

Raising his claw-like hand The Word restrains further outbursts from the female.

‘Go and get Lady Sheona some water,' he commands the female. She sulks off out of the room.

‘So Ambassador, how did you and your lady, manage to extend your lives for so long?' he croons, trying to sound like a gentle father speaking with a naughty child.

‘I cannot answer that question. I will not endanger the lives of my friends.'

The Word leaps off the throne bounds down to the bottom step, thrusting his veiled face into Bill's. ‘Your friend the Devil you mean, you are in league with him! Take them away!' he shrieks.

Suddenly out of the gloom directly behind them step four figures dressed in black hooded robes, each one grabbing an arm of the now prisoners.

The Word's scarred, veiled, face remains locked with Bill's, extracting every ounce of pleasure he can from Bill's realization that he has just been played. Before The Word can move away, Bill snaps his head back and smashes it forward into the Word's crooked nose. A sickening crack reverberates off the walls as blood spurts from the Word's ruined face. A loud roar escapes from The Word as he falls backward, the blue cloaks rush to his aid.

Web now dressed in his scarlet hooded cloak bellows the command ‘down, now!' The platform shifts and starts to drop through the floor.

‘What the hell is going on?' demands a struggling Bill.

‘You are charged with heresy and are now sentenced to death!'

‘Says who?'

‘Says you fool! By your own mouth you admit your unnatural age, you have to be in league with the Devil unless…there is some other way,' Web coos.

Noticing Bill's glance up the smooth vertical shaft to the now receding throne room, Web sneers ‘Up there is Heaven, down here where you're going, is Hell!'

The shaft seems to descend forever, when it finally stops Bill looked up to see a tiny circle of light a long way up. No escape from this place.

The prisoners are roughly marched off the platform, which now rises back up the shaft to form part of the Judgment throne room floor again. The platform shaft opens out to a massive underground cavern hollowed out to look like a huge cathedral. It spans several kilometers in length and looks to be at least a kilometer wide, and maybe 3 or 400 meters high. The air is dank, thick, and rancid smelling from hundreds of unwashed prisoners living in squalid conditions. The stench makes Bill and Sheona want to throw up.

‘Get in there and strip off, clothes and boots in here,' Web instructs, pointing to a large bag as they are shunted into a tiny processing room. ‘Personal effects and jewelry here,' now pointing to a small tray on the bench. They are given a light gray shapeless garment to wear, nothing else.

‘I'm having trouble getting this ring off,' comments Bill.

‘No trouble at all Lord William.' A wicked sneer crosses Web's face.

‘Bring in the jeweler,' commands Web, now smiling.

Soon a small bot wheels itself into the room, approaches Bill and extends out a tube like apparatus, sliding it over Bill's finger.

With a bolt of pain, the bot severs Bill's finger, spitting it out of the tube. The bloodied ring slides out onto a tray at the front of the bot.

‘Mongrel!' spits a pain racked Bill, ‘you stinking, bloody mongrel!' holding the bleeding stump that was his finger.

‘Welcome to Hell, I hope you enjoy your stay, I know I will!' laughs a demented Web. Already his pupils are starting to dilate, for him the excitement is starting to mount. Torture is his sport, his cruelty knows no bounds. The pair is marched off along a walkway, passing hundreds of caged up prisoners, the noise of their wailing and desperate cries reverberates off the walls of the huge cavern.

‘No…no way! I'm so sorry Lord William! I never meant for anything like this to happen. They are innocent let them go!' yells a man from one of the cages. Looking back Bill recognizes the barman from The Tasty Dish, his face pressed between the bars, arms extended, imploring, pleading. In the cage with him huddled together is the young couple that Bill had seen arrested and disappear into the floor of that forbidding little building now it all makes horrible sense. Bill can do nothing as his burly guard's steer him away.

‘Poor bugger thinks he got us into this mess,' thinks Bill, shaking his head sadly.

After a long time walking on the cold hard stone floor their bare feet start to ache.

By no accident they approach a massive chamber cut into the side wall. The floor of the chamber has a circular platform just like the platform they came down on. To Bill and Sheona's sheer horror three monstrous towering golden Crocodiles stand on the platform manacled at full stretch are three prisoners. Standing spread out in an X, one prisoner for each Croc.

‘Oh stop! I want you to see this,' commands an excited Web, acting like a small schoolboy.

‘Go on, get on with it!' he barks at the black hooded figure at the controls.

The small diminutive Mazuban starts the sequence. The power beam of the laser is aimed through the prisoner's feet up through their bodies to exit through their hands, its intensity is slowly increased, matching the volume and pitch of their screams. Their bodies and limbs start to glow bright red and swell until, with a sickening bang they explode in a spray of pink body fluid, their heads seared and ripped off, roll across the platform.

Both Bill and Sheona launch a fountain of vomit and dry retch as they collapse to their knees. A demented Web, meanwhile, is jumping around, clapping and laughing with glee.

‘Take them to the prep tanks!' he yells at the guards. ‘I've got something better in store for you two!' He stays to kick the freshly severed heads in to a holding basket.

Bill and Sheona are dragged roughly to their feet and led off to the start of their horrors. Finally arriving at the prep room, they are met by a rather short, round, nasty looking bald female. The tattoo on her bald head is the most hideous thing Bill and Sheona have ever seen, her skull appears to be split open down the middle with a large bird prying it open with its talons, while tearing and ripping out the skull's contents with its vicious beak.

In her hand is a small pistol shaped inoculator.

‘Bend their necks,' she hisses through broken, clenched teeth. Injecting them both in the back of the neck with a muscle paralyzing but nerve stimulating solution, they collapse on the floor.

‘Get them into the prep tanks,' she commands the guards.

Still conscious but now unable to move, they are both stripped of their flimsy garment and each tossed into a separate small, cylindrical, glass tank. They are then chained and manacled by their feet, hands and neck inside their tank and stretched out. Tubes are then forced down their throats to supply air, their lips and nostrils are sealed off. The end of the tank is then sealed and water begins to pour in over the top of the tank. Terrified, they struggle to move but can't, as the water level rises above their face they finally realize they will not drown. Unknown to them, a much more terrifying fate awaits them.