Shrine of Stars

Chapter Eight In Dreams

As always, evening was the worst time. An escape from the horrors of dreams which were neither true dreams nor truly his into the reality of captivity and the wait for the prick of Dr. Dismas’s needle and the antidote to the drug which paralyzed his body.

This time he woke not from nightmares but from a reverie woven from memories of the first of his adventures. For a happy moment, he thought that he was safe in the tower at the edge of the City of the Dead, deep in the foothills of the Rim Mountains. He had been brought there so that the curators of the City of the Dead, Osric and Beatrice, could tend his wounds. He had been very sick then, but he was even sicker now. He woke, expecting to see the hunting scene painted on the wooden ceiling of his little room and perhaps Beatrice’s time-worn, kindly face, but found that he could not open his eyes. With a sharp pang of despair he remembered where he was; but then he remembered what he had done and felt his happiness well up again.

The Shadow was talking with Enobarbus. Yama had grown used to the way it carelessly used his body, and did not bother to listen to the long list of the atrocities which it was describing in gloating detail. That was not important. The battlegrounds along the river were no more than nightmares; the struggle of dominance of his own body was more immediate. From now on, he must be constantly alert, always ready to resist the Shadow’s advances. For the first time, he began to think that he might be able to escape.

Yama had ceded much to the Shadow while concentrating on the search for Pandaras, but he had at last found Pandaras for the second time, on a battlefield at the far edge of the war and the prisoner of Yama’s old enemy, Prefect Corin, who had somehow survived the destruction of his ship by the giant polyps. Not only had Yama rescued Pandaras again, even though it had meant destroying the machine he had been using, but he was certain that the boy had guessed who had helped him, for he had called to him by name. Yama had tried to kill or at least seriously wound the Prefect by the same stroke which had freed Pandaras, but it occurred to him now that perhaps that had not been wise. He was certain that Prefect Corin was searching for him, and Sergeant Rhodean had taught him that in the right circumstances the strength of one enemy can be used against another.

The Shadow finished its boasting, and Enobarbus told Dr. Dismas that there were important matters which they must discuss.

“I am always at your service,” Dr. Dismas said. “After all, I am not allowed to leave this place.”

“Is the boy asleep?”

“He pretends to be, but I think he is not. Shall I administer the antidote?”

“No. Leave him. We will talk outside.”

After Dr. Dismas and Enobarbus had left the room, the Shadow manifested itself in Yama’s inner sight: a faint fluttering star growing slowly larger and becoming a bird, a luminous white dove fluttering through infinite darkness and suddenly changing again, a human figure now, pale hair fluttering around her face as she raised her head to look at him.

Yama found that he could open his eyes, but she was still there, leaning over him. His sweetheart, Derev. Her feathery hair was brushed back from her shaven forehead and caught in a plastic clasp. The finely carved blade of her face, her large black eyes, the soft lips of her small mouth pursed in the beginning of a smile. When she spoke, her words burned in his brain.

They are talking about us.

“Why do you never show your true self?”

Derev raised her slim arms above her head in a graceful movement, the swell of her small breasts lifting under her shift.

Is this repellent to you? I thought it would please you. I can remove this garment—

“Do as you wish. It is not a true representation, so it does not matter.”

The eidolon paused, one hand on the shoulder clasp of its shift. For a moment, Derev’s face seemed to be filmed over with something nauseating.

That is true. You did not sleep with her although you very much wanted to. An odd denial, since you lost your virginity to a whore, and then slept with the cateran—

“That is in the past. I look forward to the future when I will be reunited with Derev. I promised her that I would return when I had discovered the truth about my bloodline, and now I have learned more about myself than I care to know.”

Must I remind you of our relationship? Do not think that you are better than me, Yamamanama, or stronger, or more intelligent.

“Of course not. You do not need to remind me. But although you are better than me in every way, you still need me.”

For the moment.

“You are still very young. You are still learning. There is much that I can teach you.”

I will soon know all you know.

“Perhaps, but mere facts are useless if you do not know how to use them.”

I control thousands of machines at once. You can control only one, and that badly.

“I wondered if you knew what I was doing.”

I could prevent it. I could blind and deafen you. Be thankful for my mercy.

“I mean no harm by it. I grow bored while you are off fighting the war.”

Yet you have never used a machine to find out about the place where we are held.

“That is because I was afraid that Dr. Dismas would discover my little trick.”

Fortunately, I have no such fears. I have learned much about this place, and I have discovered that we are in danger. Enobarbus does not trust us. Nor does he trust Dr. Dismas.

“I know that Enobarbus is frightened of you. What are he and Dr. Dismas talking about?”

Listen.

The eidolon of Derev and the brightly lit room faded into a view from somewhere above the tops of the trees which surrounded the grassy glade in which Dr. Dismas and Enobarbus stood, with Enobarbus’s guards in their black armor on one side and Dr. Dismas’s mutilated servants on the other. The sun was directly overhead. It was noon. A bird was singing somewhere, a cascade of falling notes repeated over and over.

“He will become something glorious,” Dr. Dismas was saying. “Something wonderful, if he is allowed. What he is now—that’s nothing. A few silly tricks.”

Enobarbus said, “He is already a fearsome weapon,” baring his strong white teeth. The warlord held his ruined face at a proud angle. His mane was a tawny cascade tied back over one broad shoulder. He said, “Without their machines, the armies ranged against us have no protection against our own machines and we can move our troops without detection. The long stalemate is over at last. We are grateful, Dismas. You must know that. You have this fine palace, these servants, these riches. You have your laboratories and your experiments. I do not approve of what you do, of course. I think it cruel, perhaps even mad. But you are free to do it.”

“He is a larva at the moment, no more. Let him grow. Let him shed his present form and achieve his full potential. He will sweep all before him. He will be terrible, mighty… You cannot imagine it. Sometimes I think that even I cannot imagine it. Give him the metals, the rare earths…”

“No, I think not. But what else do you need? If it is in my power I will grant it at once. After all, you have delivered a prize beyond compare. Perhaps more experimental subjects,” Enobarbus said. “I do not think your experiments are going as well as you would like.”

Dr. Dismas lit a cigarette. “You surround me with spies, with men and women who pretend to be here to help me but who are, in plain truth, the wardens of this prison. It is amazing that I have done any work at all. The few creatures I have created are botched, it’s true, but they are a beginning. I need more time and I cannot have it while fighting your war for you. Let the boy complete his transformation. He will become something that will amaze us all.”

“I do not need to be amazed. I need to rely on those who fight for me. I must have this, Dismas. I must have control.”

“You could have a sudden end to this long war. I offer you victory, complete and unqualified.”

“But not, perhaps, on my terms.”

“My paramour and its associates fight for the same cause as you, my dear Enobarbus. They are your allies, but they are not yours to command. The same applies to me. I am not subject to the orders of your officers, and I wish they would not interfere with my work. I hide nothing from them, yet they act as if I do.”

“You should stop pretending to be human, Dismas. You should acknowledge your true nature. People will not trust you as long as you pretend to be what you are not.”

Dr. Dismas said sulkily, “We are both creatures of forces greater than ourselves. You fear my paramour because it is so much more powerful than the aspect of the dead woman which you worship. Look at what I have done, at his bidding. Look at how well the war goes. If not for the boy—”

“He has helped. I will not deny it. But we were winning anyway, Dismas. Besides, the war is not important. We did not start it, and we reluctantly entered into it only to save ourselves. The truth which Angel brought to the world is more important than the war.”

“Because of this so-called truth you will have no troops, by and by. The newly changed will fight at first, to be sure, but soon enough they are consumed by this precious individuality of yours. They lose interest in everything but themselves.”

“Many still fight,” Enobarbus said softly. His deep voice was like the rumble of a great cat.

“Oh, when anyone can choose anything then of course some choose to fight. But not as many as you would like, eh? And as you progress upriver there are fewer and fewer unchanged bloodlines for you to recruit.”

“It is not the war that is important,” Enobarbus said stubbornly, “but the truth we have to bring to everyone on Confluence. We had begun to spread it long before the war began. Everyone will recognize it once the mindless worship of the dead past is overthrown.”

“You speak of truths,” Dr. Dismas said. “She blinds you to the truth.”

“She revealed herself to me seventeen years ago,” Enobarbus said. “I have followed her ever since. Perhaps you would like more books, Dismas. There are whole libraries at your disposal, if only you would show more cooperation.”

“My paramour was once one of the masters of this world. Many of its kind were destroyed and the rest are scattered, yet they remember more than is written in all the books in all the libraries of the world. Books are nothing. Angel should not have destroyed the remaining avatars. That was the first mistake, but it was made a long time ago and there is nothing to be done about it. The second mistake is to keep the boy as he is. Let him grow. I admit that he once tried to destroy her, but he was not mine then. Now I can control him, whatever he becomes, because he is my son.”

Enobarbus said, slowly and gravely, “The avatars tried to destroy her. She had no choice but to fight back. Besides, she merely finished what was begun long ago. Most of the avatars were destroyed in the Age of Insurrection, by the things you claim as friends.”

Dr. Dismas snapped up from his habitual stoop like a startled click-beetle, his yellow eyes gleaming in his sharp-featured face. He exclaimed grandly, “But why are we arguing, when we both desire the same thing!”

Enobarbus said, “I have no desire to argue, Dismas. As you say, we are on the same side. But you cannot do as you will. The boy and the thing you grow inside him are powerful, and because they are powerful, they are dangerous. Already they have accomplished much, and I see no need for them to grow more powerful. They must be contained.”

“A simple solution of certain rare earths. I delivered the formula days and days ago.”

“They are already powerful enough, Doctor. Do as you will with your experimental subjects, but do no more to the boy or to the thing inside him.”

“We fight side by side against the same enemy,” Dr. Dismas said angrily. “Once that enemy is defeated, will you still try and tell me what to do?”

He turned and strode off through the trees, followed by his servants. Enobarbus gestured to his physician and said, “We must decide how this problem can be resolved, Agnitus.”

The gray-maned physician said, “His metabolism is not unusual, my lord. It is a simple matter—”

Enobarbus shook his great maned head. “Not here,” he said. “Remember that the boy controls machines.”

“You were listening,” Dr. Dismas said in Yama’s ear.

The sunny glade vanished. Dr. Dismas was looking down at him. Sweat was sprinkled on the apothecary’s forehead, islands of droplets scattered amongst the plaques of his disease. He said, “I saw the machine. You had it fly high up, so that it would be lost in the glare of the sun, but I saw it all the same.” Fondness softened his voice. “How sly. How sweet. Awake, Yamamanama! Awake, my sly, sweet boy! You have been the agent of another glorious victory in this ridiculous war! Awake!”

Three servants lifted Yama from the bed and carried him to the canopied chair, arranging his paralyzed body amongst its cushions.

Dr. Dismas said, “Don’t worry about Enobarbus. He is nothing, mere noise. We’ll have no more need for him soon enough. I have plans…” He turned away from Yama and raised his voice. “But I will not talk of that, surrounded as I am by spies!”

Yama said, “Are you speaking to me, Doctor, or to the thing inside me?”

“I soon won’t need to make a distinction. Men like to think that their minds are separate from their bodies. It is central to the creed of the heretics, for otherwise they could not contemplate attempting to live forever. You make the same mistake, Yamamanama, but I’ll soon show you just how wrong you are.”

“After the city of Aeolis was burned, some of its citizens blamed me. They set me on a funeral pyre and would have burnt me to death, but I was rescued by termites which sucked my would-be executioners into the ground. I thought that I had somehow called upon the termites to help me, but I know now that it was the Shadow, the thing you put inside me. It was saving itself. When I fell to the ground it tried to eat as many termites as it could find. The termites were partly machine, and it wanted the metals in their bodies to feed its growth.”

“I have never underestimated your intelligence, Yamamanama, but don’t think that it will save you. I am your only hope. I’ll get those rare earths for you. Then you will understand that there is no distinction between mind and body. But now you must exercise and eat, because in an hour you must sleep again. The war goes faster and faster, and no matter how much Enobarbus denies it, you are central to it.”

Derev stood at Dr. Dismas’s shoulder. She opened her mouth impossibly wide to show rows and rows of serrated white teeth and a rough red tongue that uncoiled from her mouth like a snake, glistening with saliva.

I will grow such teeth that will eat you whole, little one. We will be one flesh, one blood. There will be nothing that we cannot do.