Necrosis (The Omens of Gaia Book 1) Page 8

  “I wish to know what gods the people of this city worship.”

  One of the customers nearest to her chuckled, “Who needs a temple to worship, when all of nature is a wonder to explore?”

  “Um, yes, nature is wonderful. That doesn’t replace the need for temples. I would like to know –”

  “There are no temples here.” The man said.

  “Come again?”

  “Our people have no temples, lassie! Public worship is forbidden here. And even if it weren’t, well, what would be the point?”

  Keren was stunned. “Forbidden? Why? I should think a city would want its people to offer alms to its gods in order to incur their good fortune! Now, pardon my bluntness, but I’m pretty sure I don’t think any of your gods are real. Still, that your own elders would not permit you to worship them –”

  “That’s the whole point, lassie. No one thinks the gods are real! Well, maybe a few weirdoes, but no one wants to put up with watching them do their silly rites, either.”

  He leaned closer, one hand resting on the wall above Keren’s head. “You’re a smart girl, aint’cha? What sensible person thinks there’s a bunch of spirits swimming around in the upper air, watching us, reading our thoughts, just waiting to get us into trouble? And even if they did exist, why should we give a damn about them or what they think?”

  The man swept his arm around in a dramatic gesture. “We’ve ignored them so far, and managed to build all of this without their help! And has any holy thunderbolt fallen from the sky to smite us? Eh?”

  Keren didn’t really know what to say to all of this. She hadn’t ever imagined gods to be giant spirits floating around in the clouds in the first place. They were more like…actually, what were they like? She had never bothered to think about it before…

  The shop keeper had been watching them intently this whole time. Now he spoke: “We used to be god-fearing folk much like you and your people. Then our scientists began to make inquiries into the world around us, and they discovered that life, humanity, art and ethics did not arise from some ancient mystical event. They arose from matter, and from our own minds. How is it possible to feel awe or wonder towards the idea of gods, knowing this?”

  “I, ah, think I see your point. But how do your officials enforce good behavior? The elders could never get the village boys to behave without bringing up God at one point or another –”

  The man beside her spoke up again. “You think men can’t be good without a jealous spirit peering over their shoulder at every hour of the day? Ha! Girl, you have got to get out more! Believing in God doesn’t make people good; enlightened self-interest does!”

  Keren gaped at him. His claim seemed rather ridiculous, but he said it so confidently that it took her off guard.

  “Look around, lassie. This city is wealthier and healthier than most of the continent, and why? Because we know how the world really works, and we know how to make people behave by appealing to their reason, not by scaring them silly with stories of things they don’t ever see!”

  “Your elders create laws…from reason alone?”

  “Aye! They study the human mind for a living, you know. Come up with rules based on mathematics and psychology and such.”

  “Our legislators are elected from the ranks of moral experts,” the shop keeper intoned. “It is considered a crime to legislate a decree based on religious beliefs. One must show one’s reasons to be grounded in logic and in the latest social experiments. That is the only sensible way to govern a cosmopolitan society like ours. Other nations may govern themselves as they will. However, if I may say so, the proof of the theory is in the results.”

  Keren left feeling very informed. No wonder the elders had called these people soulless; in Herayon, a man’s soul constituted his connection with God. And yet the Xiraminites not only rejected their gods, they denied them altogether! The realization was both terrifying and exhilarating. Terrifying, because she could not begin to fathom how one lived one’s life apart from God. Exhilarating, because she herself had been forsaken by God in Belshazzar’s dungeons, and thought herself alone in all the world, isolated by unbelief.

  And yet, it seemed that some at least had found freedom in unbelief.

  Keren put her head in her hands. No wonder Gregory and Irene denied the undead. No wonder the people of this city looked on the face of a Necrow without fear! Much as she yearned to believe in what those men had said, Keren could not shake the feeling that these peoples’ philosophy was overlooking something important. What that was, though, she could not say.

  She spent the rest of the day wandering about as if in a daze, meandering through shops and eyeing trinkets she had no money to buy. At last the sun turned crimson as it sank over the lake; ripples flashed and burned as they caught the dying light. Keren spurned the lusty looks of the young men that prowled the darkening streets, and made her way home.

  Akar was waiting for her on the front porch. There was no sign from the shape of its cloak that anything was hidden underneath. No sign on its features that it felt anything but infinite indifference toward the world. The sight of it irked her, and now she thought she knew why. Its very existence was a paradox: unquantifiable, inexplicable.

  “The hosts have prepared their meal,” the Necrow said as she approached. “They only wait for you to join them.”

  Keren’s stomach rumbled. “Oh, gladly. Are you coming?”

  Akar nodded and opened the door, then followed her inside.

  Gregory and Irene were all cheerful smiles as they served steaming bowls of riches; more meats and plants and herbs that Keren had never heard the names of, let alone seen with her own eyes.

  They ate in amiable silence.

  It was after the dishes from the main course had been cleared, but dessert had not yet been served. A loud bell announced visitors at the front door. Gregory went to answer it and returned with a group of men dressed in severe grey uniforms. The buckles and insignia on their garb were all in silver. On their belts hung a plethora of tools whose use Keren could only guess at. One look at their faces served to confirm who they were: the local enforcers of law and order, whose absence had bewildered Keren from when they had first stepped foot in this strange city.

  All of them were staring at the Necrow.

  “This man is under arrest for theft,” the first of them said. “He is to be taken into custody until it is seen if reparations can be made to those he has wronged.”

  Both Gregory and Irene stared at Akar in surprise. “Is this true?” they gasped. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  The Necrow merely tilted its head to one side. Keren swore the expression on its face was almost one of amusement. Oh no, she thought. Please don’t make a scene. You asked for this when you spat in the face of their laws and robbed their people!

  Akar nodded slightly. This is true. People have the right to enforce their standards of fair play. This one will go along, out of curiosity for what the punishment will be. The Necrow rose from the table. Please remain here. This excursion will not outlast the night. The goods in question have already been moved to the saddlebags; departure will be necessary at first light.

  Wait, what are you talking about? How do you know –

  Akar did not share any more of its thoughts with her. The enforcers surrounded the Necrow, clapped a set of metal rings around its wrists and removed its sword. They led it from the house with no more than a few terse words to their shocked hosts.

  After they had left, Gregory and Irene served dessert and argued vigorously over what could have possessed the nice young man to do something so silly. Irene was of the opinion that he was just a hapless youth, confused about the proper ways of the world. Gregory was inclined to think he was a hoodlum who had done this sort of thing before, and was in thrall to some kind of mental disorder.

  Keren knew the Necrow for the lawless devil it really was, but did not speak up about the matter. It helped that her hosts did not think to ask for her opinion a
bout her strange companion. They did not even ask if she had been aware of its crime.

  After dinner she wandered out into the garden to see that the mare was settled for the night. The new items were in the saddlebags as Akar had said. That was when she began to feel uneasy.

  If those men had really come to arrest a thief, why had they made no inquiry after the stolen goods? Why had they not bothered to search the Necrow or take the horse? Keren assumed these people possessed technologies which enabled them to spy on others without their knowledge. Akar would not have been clumsy in its efforts to break the law, and had not been caught in the shop. The authorities must have been alerted through some unknown means of detection. That did not explain why they had shown no interest in recovering the items in question.

  Keren sat down on a nearby bench and resolved to wait there until morning. Something was amiss, and she was not sure if her enigmatic comrade would be able to return.

  Akar rode with the enforcers in one of the metallic carriages; a box enclosed on all sides with benches for the men to sit shoulder to shoulder. He sat at the very back on his own seat, the links on his wrists connected to the floor with chains.

  He spent the time contemplating the qualities of each man’s life-light, why they had really come for him, and how short a time it would take to incapacitate them all. Where they were going, he could already guess. Being enclosed in a windowless box such as this was no matter; Akar could still read the earth-light beneath the city as clearly as ever.

  It took less than fifteen minutes to arrive at the tallest tower at the center of the city. The cart entered the bowels of the gigantic construct and halted before a steel door. The men unlocked the chains and led Akar through the door, whereupon the floor beneath them shuddered and began to rise. The tiny room in which they stood rose upwards for half a minute before ceasing.

  The door opened and they stepped out into a long corridor.

  Akar thought he was beginning to understand why the yokai had described this country thus. Everything about this building and these people spoke of sterility and detachment. Though the rivers of light blazed underground as brightly as ever, there was hardly any light where men had erected their city. Akar was forced to view their surroundings as silhouettes; shapes cast into shadow by the distant glow.

  They entered a room containing many tables set in strict rows, the surfaces cluttered with various instruments and artifacts. At the end of the room was a single table curved and bent like a chair, intended to seat a single occupant.

  The men in uniform unlocked the wrist cuffs and stripped the Necrow of his cloak and armor. These they discarded in a corner along with his sword. They thrust Akar into the chair and bound him there. Thick cables restrained his ankles, thighs, wrists, elbows and neck.

  If he was human, Akar supposed this would be terrifying. For him, it was merely an inconvenience. He was far too distracted by the shadows of the odd implements scattered around the room.

  A bright light flickered on above, bathing the table in harsh brilliance. Even with his dim eyesight and closed lids, Akar was forced to squint. Ach, how he wished he had not discarded the mask!

  There was a commotion at the front of the room. Akar observed as a cluster of new life-lights wandered in. The men in uniform stood in ranks along the walls to either side, briskly saluting the new arrivals.

  A soft feminine voice spoke: “Have the restraints been double-checked?”

  “Aye, ma’am. He won’t be able to lay a finger on you, let alone get off that table!”

  “Very good, Lieutenant Smith. Let us see what our foreign friends in the north have been up to.” There was a tiny clatter as the woman reached for an implement on a nearby tray. Akar could not see what she held, but suddenly felt a sharp pain slice along his forearm. He bit back a cry as his flesh was laid open.

  “Interesting. It has the outer appearance of a human being, and the inner anatomy is quite accurate. The nerves and muscles are sculpted in remarkable detail. There is no blood, however. The body itself does not appear to be composed of organic matter, but –” And here Akar felt another sharp stab of pain as a pair of tweezers ripped off a chunk of his inner flesh – “Rather, it seems to bear a strong resemblance to clay.”

  The woman spoke as if dictating to another. Akar turned his attention to the others and noticed that several were pushing buttons or scribbling rhythmically in time to the woman’s words. The woman turned to one of her assistants and dropped the piece of flesh into something they held. “This sample will be tested for elemental composition.”

  The woman returned her attention to him – or rather, Akar thought, to the sight of his nude body as it lay exposed under the harsh light. He felt the woman’s gloved fingers on his neck and wrist. “Subject has no pulse or respiration. This is consistent with the observation that it has no blood to speak of, and perhaps does not rely on oxygenation as a source of energy.

  “Investigations into the form and workings of the internal organs will be made at a later time. For now, non-intrusive experiments should be conducted that will preserve the integrity of the specimen. It is currently unknown whether the subject should be classified as a ‘life-form’ or ‘automaton.’ Further evidence must be gathered in order to conclude one or the other.”

  With that, the woman marched away to join her colleagues gathered around the tables. A different life-light approached Akar.

  “Inquiries will now be made into the mental condition of the specimen.” This new voice was male. “Citizen of Herayon: what is your name?”

  Akar gritted his teeth, still struggling to ignore the pain in his arm. “This one is no citizen, and has no name.”

  “What are you called?”

  “We are called Necrow.”

  “Where do you originate?”

  “We originate from the man called Belshazzar, who created us with his blood and will. Why do you ask this? It was thought this country had no concern for the war in the north.”

  “That is true. Pouthenos does not concern itself with international affairs. It does however give license to its professionals to make inquiries into any odd specimens we may find, no matter their nationality or place of origin.” The man spoke in a flat and expressionless voice; Akar thought Keren would probably find him infuriating.

  “Was the charge of theft merely an excuse for my arrest, then?”

  “The goods in question were not worth much of value, and the dealers have already received reparations. You, the subject, were apprehended because you offer potential value to the city of Xiramin.”

  “So I would have been arrested, held against my will, and used for your own ends even if a crime had not been committed?”

  The man gave a small shrug. “What is crime, but a symptom of mental or bodily dysfunction? And if so, are not all dysfunctions a form of crime, deserving of arrest and incarceration? We – the experts and enforcers of the law – serve to cure the populace of disease. Your very physiology and presence in our city makes you deserving of seizure and examination. This is for the good of the majority.”

  “This one is not a citizen. What then do you intend to do?”

  “We shall determine the cause and nature of your abnormality, and if it can be cured. Your physiology is unlike any we have seen and may contribute valuable knowledge to our sciences. If you are able to feel gratitude, Necrow, you should be grateful, for your body may constitute the greatest scientific find in a generation!”

  “Doctor,” It was the woman again. Akar strained against the bonds which held him, but knew it to be of little use. The woman took up a new set of instruments: a collection of needles. She inserted them an inch or so deep along Akar’s body. He nearly screamed when she thrust the final needle into his neck above the collar. A tiny electric buzz came from them. The Necrow writhed as the instruments sent signals to the scientists’ many apparatuses.

  He struggled to remind himself why he was here.

  “I have read the minds of men,
and this is not what they believe justice to be!”

  The doctor chuckled. “My dear fellow, whoever said this had anything to do with justice? The citizens of this country thrive because they adhere to reason. Reason decrees that notions like ‘justice’ are but wishful thinking born of hatred and vengeful instincts. We follow a more…humane set of principles.

  “Morality is merely a series of mental constructs which men are conditioned to believe. These constructs are necessary for the optimum operation of society. The ‘truth’ of them (if you must use that word) is determined only by their usefulness, not by an external law.

  “However, man is a willful creature that is not always aware of what is most useful to him. He must be conditioned to adhere to these constructs for his own good, as well as the good of his fellow men. And who is to condition him, if not experts who have been trained in the fine nuances of psychology and behavior?”

  Akar extended his awareness into the doctor’s mind, and was baffled by what he found. The man was a husk; cluttered with strings and tangles of logic-thought ultimately resting on nothing. The scientist believed himself to be an automaton formed out of the blind will of nature, made to have the semblance of a mind and soul, but in reality possessing neither. The man believed there to be no such thing as free will, morality, or even life per-say. There existed only the blindly elegant dance of atomic motions which drove one towards a pre-determined death by entropy.

  The sensation was so familiar that Akar struggled to realize what was so strange about it.

  The man thought he himself was a Necrow.

  When Akar gripped his mind, the doctor saw into the Necrow as well, and balked in fear. What is this? What are you doing to me?! His mind writhed like a hooked fish, incapable of understanding. Akar only grasped him tighter as he peered into his memories. What he saw there sickened him. The things this man and his colleagues had done in the name of their sciences were as horrific as any of the things the Necrow had done to the helpless people of Herayon.