Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods (16 page)

"Why don't I remember any of that?"

"We don't know. Amnesia is a strange creature."

"Well let's get back on track," I said. "The reason we contacted you is to see if you can lend us a hand. One of the characters in here has gone out of control. You said you can't locate us but can you locate the simulated characters?"

"Do you have a name?"

"Kric' tu."

"We can do a search and try to find a path for that name but it's going to be extremely difficult. The computer has assigned a number to each of the people in there including you. We would have to locate a text reference, something that was written about him, and then cross-reference it with location data stored on our time line. I think we can do it but it'll take awhile. Today for the first time we stumbled onto the text references and we're learning a great deal. It’s quite fascinating."

“Yes. Well, do what you can. I'll check in periodically to see how you're progressing."

“I'll get right on it. Good luck, Robert."

The thread went limp and I let the web fade away. “Doesn't look like they're going to be much help at the moment." I looked at Corel. She seemed preoccupied. “You all right, Corel?"

She turned away from me. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I realize it's a lot to swallow. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes!" She snapped. "It's just... I'm not sure how to feel about all this. I just want to wake up from this
nightmare."

"We all do,” I said gently. “But until we figure out how we need to continue with what we're doing. Kric' tu must be stopped."

"You're right." She sighed.

Armadon spoke. "We need to rescue the woman and child and bring them to Gaza."

"Yes, but someone needs to tell Gaza they are being held. He has to know they're alive or he might go ahead with his plans.” I paused and looked down at the floor. “And there is still the matter of Kitaya. It concerns me we haven't heard from her."

I wanted to object-- but realized she was right. "Okay, but let us know as soon as you find her..." I started to say more but stopped before inadvertently revealing my feelings for her.

Startled, our heads turned up in unison. A hole had been cut through the top of the tent and the face of a beautiful dark-skinned woman looked through. Her angelic smile was matched only by the loveliness of her vibrant blue eyes. “May I join you?"

"Who...?"

She slipped through the hole, landed solidly on the wooden table, then hopped to the floor. "I’m Lorna, the tenth. Sajin came to me this morning and explained what was going on. At first I thought he was a fruit, but since he was right about these weird powers-- and after seeing the battle ground out there my attitude has changed a bit."

"Greetings, Lord Tardin,"
came the thoughts of Sajin Barrows.

"Did you send Lorna to us?"

"Yes, I did."

"Thank you. I will be in touch."

His presence faded away into the void.

"Right. Well then," I said. "Welcome aboard, Lorna. I'm Jason. This is Armadon." I pointed. He bowed slightly. "And this is Corel." They shook hands.

I looked at Corel and Armadon. "Sajin says he sent her. That's good enough for me. Anyone have any objections?" I looked to one then to the other. "Okay then,” I smiled at Lorna, “let's fill you in and get you trained."

THE SOUL OF A PEOPLE

001001011001110

Lorna was a quick study and the kind of woman who spoke exactly what was on her mind. I liked that about her. She was as bright as she was beautiful; within an hour she had picked up all the tricks we could think to teach her.

Preparations were made for our separate ventures. I helped the others by creating two pistols. Armadon was pleased with his. It was his first firearm since coming to this world. The weapon was dwarfed in his massive hand, but a look of satisfaction played upon his broad features. Corel, however, held her weapon like a diseased handkerchief. After I showed her how to hold it properly, and explained that it was a low caliber weapon, she appeared more at ease, but not much.

We headed out, thanking Lorna for her help, and fate for her auspicious arrival. On the tops of the walls weary soldiers stood guard. There was an eye in every direction and a sense of apprehension in the air. At any moment an attack could come. We were fortunate to have such brave, alert men fighting with us. When this war was over, we planned to reward them generously.

Behind the cover of the wall, Armadon and Corel disappeared in a flash of blue. I paused at the entrance to the compound, looking out onto the misty battlefield-- at the bodies of the dead cooling in the evening air. Soon it would be nightfall. It would be easier to hide in the dim blue light of the moons so I sat and began tossing stones, waiting for the darkness.

Behind me the sound of footfalls approached. They slowed as they neared, then stopped. "Sir?" said the voice belonging to the feet.

He came around my side hesitantly then placed his helmet on the ground and perched on it. Weariness showed on his dirty young face, but he held himself up, I assumed, with a strength fueled by the cause. His chest was proud through his tattered uniform, his rank, all but melted off.

"What can I help you with?" I said, continuing to toss stones.

“Has Gaza turned his back on us?"

What an interesting question
. I looked at the boy and was again struck with curiosity about these people. For the most part I was too caught up in the events of the moment to consider the implications of this world's existence, or to pay much attention to its residents. But once again I found myself in awe of their diversity.
Who
was asking this question? I could sense this boy's apprehension-- but computer simulations don't feel nervous. This boy, like Thana, appeared to be a complex living being, possessing all the strengths and frailties which make up human existence. But he wasn’t
real!
If this world was an induced dream state, then
who
was responsible for this boy's question?

"Sir?" prompted the boy.

"No. Gaza has not turned his back on your people. Kric' tu is the one responsible for this conflict."

"
Kric' tu?"
The boy’s face whitened. He knew the name, and he feared it.

"Do not fear. We will defeat him. Our forces are strong.” After a short silence the boy began getting to his feet. But I stopped him. I wanted to get a better understanding of his design-- and pass the time before my trip. "Do you have a family?"

"Yes.” He hesitated, then settled back down. “My mother and father wait for me with my youngest brother. I'm the oldest. My other brother, Finton, is here, but he is under another command."

"How do you feel about your brother being here with you?" I asked, studying his face.

"Well, at first I was angry that he enlisted behind my back. But he's getting older. I suppose it's time for him to prove himself, as it was for me."

"Do you watch out for him?"

"Yes, like an eagle," he said turning away slightly. His face was thoughtful, contemplative.

The boy's reactions were totally believable, with every mannerism completely in tune with the content of the conversation. He seemed
so real
. I suppose it was possible his emotions were feeding off The Ten, but from which of us did he draw his perception?

"Your presence provides proof that the gods do exist. The Marathil states that you will introduce our souls to the light. If I die at your side, it will only be my body. My soul will live on. Right?"

It was obvious I was making him tense with my questions. Just one more, then I’d stop. "Where do you think your spirit will go when it is released from your body?"

"I will go to live in Ethral, with the Keeper of Light, the Maker of Love" He gazed up at the sky.

I sat nodding my head. Okay,
one
more. "And what purpose do you think the god of reason serves?"

"Without you the path is broken. Why would there be a path without reason?"

“So I am the reason for the way to Ethral. Good!" I chuckled, more at my own foolishness than for the sake of easing the boy's fears. "Go tell the others that victory is inevitable. Kric' tu cannot hide the path from me, because
I
am the reason it is there."

His face lit up as he stood and bowed. "Thank you, Sam' Dejal, thank you!" Without fully raising his head, he gave a sly knowing look, then turned and bolted off.

Boys in charge of boys,
I thought.
We're in trouble!

The exchange with the young soldier left me no closer to a solution. Where were these people getting their emotional responses? Were they part of a dream scape we were feeding them subconsciously, or was Humphrey right? Was this place actually a spiritual realm somewhere between the physical world and Ethral? Since we were being artificially stimulated to dream in level four sleep, could it be we were seeing this world for the first time with our conscious minds? I was not inclined to believe in Humphrey's teachings but the evidence was beginning to weigh in his favor. First of all, I could come up with no scientific reason for the existence of such a complex and diverse people, and second, Humphrey was removed from the equation. If this was deliberate there had to be a reason-- and I was determined to find it.

I sat and watched the sun dip below the jagged teeth of the snow-topped mountains, which loomed in the distance like shadowy observers. The wind tossed my hair around in its chilly fingers as I looked toward the battlefield. The dancing shadows gave subtle movement to the eerie landscape. Lights from the opposing camp pierced the night. It was time to go; it was darkest in the short space between sun and first moon.

The web lit up as I searched for my first target. There, a large rock off to the right of the battlefield; I followed a thread to it. A clump of shrubs a short distance away provided my next hiding place. Once there I had a clear view of the camp. More tents had been erected and a bunker had been built around the entire encampment. I continued on into a small wooded area just outside the town and hid behind a large tree. To get through the town unnoticed, I fashioned a thick brown woolen robe to cover every portion of my armored body, then stripped the armor away from my head and face. Earlier I had changed the program so my modifications would no longer effect the troops. The robe did a good job of covering my armor and tucked wings, but what to do with my eyes? I created a mirror, it floated in the air in front of me then fell gently into my hands. I superimposed my will on the two glowing steel orbs, but the glowing was persistent. I focused harder but they continued to resist. I tried pulling at their threads. I could easily change their shape, but the glow remained. I dissolved the mirror and created another dark band of cloth. Under the shadow of the hood it would go unnoticed, and I would be able to walk about freely without the pretense of a blind man.

I poked my head around the tree trunk and examined the stone wall between me and the entrance to the city. The main gate would be formidable for a mortal but for a god, it was a piece of cake. The web ignited as my mind pushed out into the network of strands. I still found it amazing that I was so instinctively in tune with these tiny blue lines. By touching a thread, I could tell how far it traveled. With concentration, I could see the exact make up of the entire collective. It was overwhelming to comprehend. Many threads led into the city, but I needed to find one that ended somewhere discrete. I followed a number of threads with my mind's eye and found one that would work; it led into a deserted alleyway just beyond the wall. The alleyway led to the main street.
Perfect.

In a crackle of blue energy I materialized in the empty alley; there were no windows in either building, so my passage went undetected. Even stepping out onto the sidewalk no one noticed me; they were preoccupied with the war effort. Soldiers were everywhere, many of the townspeople were preparing supplies. I kept to the shadows. These people didn't appear to have the motivation and dedication of my troops. Their actions were mechanical. I was sure they pushed forward out of the fear of punishment. Several times I noticed citizens eying the soldiers with suspicious glances. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but there was deception in their eyes. A man caught my attention. Cautiously he looked over his shoulder, then entered a small building. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but I recognized him; Fyousa, from the event cell, the one who wanted to stand up and fight. If I had an ally in this town, he was it.

The door was locked, so I peeled away the texture and looked at its innards. Three bars held the door in place. I shortened the bars until they no longer held, opened the door, and stepped inside. The dusky room looked like it had once been a bakery, but was now nothing more than a hollowed out hull, at which even a rat would turn up his nose. A lone candle burned on a nearby table. I grabbed it and moved across the room to an open door. A set of stairs lead downward, voices and flickering lights came from below. I stopped and listened.