Samael's Fire (15 page)

“Tell me about Rani again,” Jake said. “What you saw.”

What they saw. Rani’s soul. What else could it have been? She’d told Jake the story every day. He couldn’t let his sister go, and Char was the last person to judge on that score.

“When you were gone and no one knew how to land the
Space Junque,
Asherah appeared with those beings she calls Empanii. There was one for each of us, and they seemed to be people each of us loved. The matriarch’s son, Maribel’s mother, my sister Sky. And you were there for Rani. The manifestations were so true down to the sound of Sky’s voice and the smell of her skin when she hugged me. She even wore the twin to my necklace.”

“Empanii.” Jake turned the word on his tongue. “Empathy. Empathic beings. They scan your mind to find a form to take.”

That felt right. “The form and everything that goes with it. Mine knew exactly what I wanted to hear.”

The glorious blazes continued above, unrelenting and unchanging in frequency. The wind from the surf grew cold, and the people around them began to collect their things and return to the compound.

“Rani recognized you in the end, Jake. The Empani you. She said your name, just as Sky put her arms around me.” Char shuddered. The Empani’s embrace had been so real. She still found it hard to believe that hadn’t been her sister in the
Space Junque
.

“And then we were all on Corcovado, on the mountain. Sky—my Empani—was gone along with the others. Only the Jake Empani remained, holding Rani’s hand. I think that’s when she died. Or her body died. Something came out of her, an echo of her that rose like vapor, and I thought
this is Rani’s soul
. I do believe it was Rani’s consciousness in some form. And Jake, she seemed at peace.”

With the sun down, it was cold and people started to drift back to the compound. Walking by, they acknowledged Char in one way or another. Some glanced at her furtively and looked away. Some smiled shyly. Some nodded in a show of respect or even bowed.

“Now you know how it feels,” Jake said. He was a bastard, but he was an Imperial bastard—and son of the Emperor’s favorite concubine. He’d experienced enough kowtowing in his life.

One man made eye contact, the cook again. His eyes were bright, and he lunged at her.

“Hey!” Jake leapt to his feet. “What are you doing?” The cook grabbed at Char’s hair before Jake could pull him off.

“Please! I just want to touch Asherah’s hair,” the cook said. “I have to know…”

Cripes.

“You idiot,” Jake said. “Get out of here before one of Geraldo’s goons sees you. You could be banished for that.”

The guy’s face went white.

“It’s all right,” Char said. “He didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know.” He nodded eagerly.

Char pointed dramatically and said, “Go and sin no more.”

The cook turned even paler. He fell backwards on the sand, scrambled to his feet and ran. Jake burst out laughing.

“I was only joking!” Char said.

“I know, but then I know you’re not a goddess.”

It was good to see Jake smile. A miracle to hear laughter in his voice.

“You’re a woman.” He kissed her, his lips warm and his need urgent. “A living, breathing woman.”

They stayed on the beach until everyone else had gone and made love until the sun came up. There was just enough time to get back, take a shower, and hike up to The Redeemer. The gigantic sandstone statue’s head bent forward and its arms stretched wide as if accepting them all into some promised nirvana.

Durga and the girls were already there along with the matriarch.

“My sister.” Durga threw her arms around Char’s waist, and Jake went to talk to the matriarch.

Char hugged the little tyrant. Durga was such a contradiction, a little girl despite being chosen by a goddess for…something. She was confident and commanding one moment, shy and in need of nurture the next. If only Rani had lived. The two had formed a bond, and Rani could have guided her to adulthood. Char didn’t even like Durga much, but she accepted that they were bound together by experience and would be together until the end.

If the world
was
going to go on somehow, what did Asherah have in mind for these girls? They were so young! At the edge of the group, Maribel had her thumb in her mouth and held a woman’s hand. The woman looked familiar, but Char couldn’t place her. She leaned down and whispered to the girl, and the two started to walk away.

Char’s body went rigid. “Cripes!” She pointed at the two walking toward the mountain’s sheer drop-off, and Durga’s head jerked around.

“That’s not her mother.” Char recognized the woman now, Maribel’s Empanii on the shuttle.

“Maribel!” Durga screamed and sprang after them. She grabbed the woman and locked eyes with her. The Empani metamorphosed into a white heron. It twisted and flapped its wings and pulled out of Durga’s grasp.

“Well,” Jake said as the bird flew away. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

They’d buried Rani’s body about fifty yards from the statue base. Routine was comforting in the face of catastrophe. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, bury the dead.

“Rani was my sister. We had the same father.” Jake was the first to speak. His words came slow through his pain. “And she was my best friend.”

The last funeral Char had attended was for Brandon. Her fiancé had been killed by one of the DOGs’ bombs. There was no priest for Brandon then, as there was none for Rani today. Was that a mistake? Knowing there were gods didn’t answer anything. Was there a heaven? Hell?

“Don’t you always say this is hell?” The child-like voice sent a chill up Char’s spine.

Asherah was standing beside Durga, but her words had sounded clear in Char’s head. The goddess’s curly blood-red hair was piled on top of her head. Two tiny foo dogs sat on her shoulders holding two pieces of gauzy cloth over her body. Char felt sick to her stomach. Everything went black.

-oOo-

“There is a Great Chain of Being.” Durga’s voice spoke through Char’s mouth.

“All things are linked through the chain in order of distance from the All, the Ultimate Reality.”

Durga’s voice mixed with Char’s voice, still coming out of Char’s mouth. Char couldn’t move. The words flowed, independent of her will.

“The All experiences the material plane through the human soul. The soul must endure.”

Asherah’s voice entered the blend with the two human voices. Char’s body shook with so much violence she thought her neck would snap.

“I am the god Asherah. I am that I am. I am eternal. The human race will not end. Samael made you, but I will save you.”
   

That was the other god’s name.

“Char.” She was on the ground. The wet grass felt cool and welcome against her face.
No, don’t make me move.
“Char!” Jake lifted her off the ground. It took a moment to focus, to really see him.

She could still feel Asherah’s will permeating her every cell. The goddess wanted to save the human race. Not because she liked humans, but to ensure her own continued existence. Too many souls had been wiped out by the DOGs.

“Did you see?” she asked Jake. “Did you see her?”

“You and Durga went into a trance. You were staring like zombies while Asherah’s words came out of your mouths at the same time.”

“I don’t remember all of it. What does she want?”

“She wants us to light candles,” Jake said. “Beeswax.”

“Now see, that’s where we’ll need a miracle.” Char’s field was hydroponics. The bees had gone extinct fifty years ago.

“And no prayers. She said to give our prayers to Samael.”

“I think she has a love/hate relationship with Samael.”

“That can’t be good,” Jake said, “when the gods don’t get along.”

The matriarch was on the ground with Durga’s head in her lap. The little tyrant was comatose.

The end didn’t come. They were not all going to die. After three days Durga came out of her coma, weak but otherwise fine.

Jake, on the other hand, was not fine. He withdrew into a kind of cocoon, mourning Rani. Char couldn’t convince him he wasn’t responsible. He couldn’t stop obsessing over the events surrounding her death.

“If only I’d put the antibiotics in the infirmary instead of the storage hold.” They were having lunch in the courtyard outside the admin building.

“Antibiotics can’t cure the effects of a disruptor blast. You didn’t kill Rani. The DOG who shot her did.”

Char bit into a huge red strawberry. She had to give Geraldo his due. The shibdab weasel ran Corcovado like clockwork, even down to providing fresh fruits and vegetables daily for everyone in the compound. “Speak of the weasel,” she said under her breath. At that very moment, Geraldo was coming toward them across the courtyard.

He joined them without asking, looking typically pleased with himself. “Jake, I just spoke with your mother.”

“How?” Char said. Magda had been the Emperor’s favorite concubine. The
Space Junque
had belonged to her, a gift from her lover. Char knew Magda and Geraldo had some kind of connection because Rani had stayed in Corcovado for some time when she was young. She had hated it here.

“Her fallout shelter has communications. There must be a satellite at least partially operating in orbit. She made contact with us minutes ago.”

“Let’s go.” Jake was already on his feet. The light had returned to his eyes. “And then we’ll go to the Pacific Zone.”

The
Space Junque
was gone but they still had the orbit runner, which flew nearly as fast in the atmosphere as it had in orbit. Over the Atlantic, the air seemed relatively clean. The runner’s instruments detected surprisingly low levels of radiation.

“What?” Jake said when Char chuckled to herself.

“I just prayed to Asherah that the air would be as clean over the Pacific Zone, and then I remembered what she said about prayers. I hope she doesn’t smite me.”

“If you had some beeswax, you could light a candle.”

It felt so good to laugh.

Magda’s estate was in New Melbourne, a remote and beautiful island out of the path of war. “She’s on the roof.” Using telescoping sunglasses, Char spotted Magda from a mile out. She was waving a red and yellow silk scarf.

“Is anyone with her? Can you see?”

“Two women—and a small child.”

“Jordana survived,” Jake whispered. A tear slid down his cheek. “Rani’s daughter.”

He landed the runner and scooped the child up into his arms. Her eyes flashed a blue light, and she squealed with happiness.

“Let’s get out of here,” Magda said. “Too many ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” It was hard to believe Magda was intolerant of ghosts when she obviously cared for Rani’s daughter, a mutant.

“Not living ghosts,” Magda said. “Memories. Shades of the dead. Everyone on the island seems to have caught apocalyptic hysteria and either killed each other or themselves. Except those two. I have no idea who they are.”

The two unknown women took the passenger seats in the back of the runner. They were alive but in shock. Not ghosting, but not interested in talking either. Char sat with Magda and Jordana. The toddler was fascinated with Char’s unnatural red hair and kept trying to grab it.

As Char had expected, Jake’s mother was magnificent. She was in her early fifties and as beautiful as an older woman with adequate resources could be. More beautiful. Char had heard of mitochondrial repair, but until now she’d never believed the therapy was perfected. The rich and connected always get the good stuff first.

Magda’s dark hair could be from coloring. It was her peaches and cream skin that gave her away. The wrinkles around her eyes were barely noticeable, her lips full and unlined.

To her surprise, Char wasn’t intimidated. Magda reminded her of her own mother, a cold woman who never wanted children but had enjoyed them after they’d grown up.

“What is your name short for, my dear? You couldn’t possibly have been named Char on purpose.”