House Infernal by Edward Lee (12 page)

ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.

"How's that for a welcome sign?" Alexander managed
with a laugh.

"Fuckin' peachy." Finally out of the marina, Ruth
marched on, the Port of the Vulgaressa behind them. "So
who's this Vulgaressa person?"

"She's the official governor of Rot-Port, and to my
knowledge the only Grand Duchess in Hell. If you
thought women were discriminated against in the Living
World, you haven't seen anything. She was one of Lucifer's first lovers after The Fall. He likes down-and-dirty
women."

"Down-and-dirty, huh?" Some of Ruth's own past exploits sailed before her mind's eye. Shit ...

"She's a Demonic nymphomaniac-has sex sixty-six
times a day, they say."

"Holy shit. That is down-and-dirty."

"But get this, Ruth. The Vulgaressa deliberately keeps
herself infected with every sexually transmitted disease
in existence. The stuff they got here makes HIV, herpes,
and syphilis look like a stubbed toe. Her body's pretty
much just a great big bag of pus that's kept in feminine
contours by her occult surgeons. That's her hobby. She infects people with this stuff. Sixty-six times a day."

Ruth had had a touch of gonorrhea and syph herself a
few times. She didn't want to know what kind of cooties
they had here.

Then Alexander whispered, "Holy shiiiiiuii ..."

"You almost said holy shit!"

"I know, but this is serious, Ruth. See that Steam Buggy
up there? And those soldiers in Rot-Armor?"

Ruth saw them at the moldering intersection whose
curbs were troughs of rot. "Yeah? Is that trouble?"

"Could be. That buggy is the Vulgaressa's personal
coach. Just walk normally."

Ruth shook her head. Walk normally he says. With a torso
on my back in Hell ...

"Don't say anything and don't look at them. Just walk
by like you don't see them," the priest warned. "There's
something screwy here."

"I'll say. We're in a town made of rot."

"I mean there's more Conscripts than normal," Alexander said, observing more Demonic soldiers prowling
roofs and balconies. "And some of them aren't wearing
Rot-Armor-it means they've been called in from other Districts. And the Vulgaressa is never out at this time of
night. It's almost like..."

"They're looking for someone?"

"Shhh! Just walk by."

Ruth loped ahead. Years of grifting and petty thievery
had taught her to act inconspicuously, yet the priest's
mysterious alarm was making her nervous.

"And don't be nervous," Alexander added. "They have
Prism-Veils."

What the fuck! she thought.

She passed a large steepled structure fluffy with rot. It
looked like a church but then she read the sign:

ST. BATHORY'S ABBEY OF CATHETERIZATION -JOIN ABBESS
JOYCELYN FOR BLACK MASS & GENITAL TORTURE.

Ruth just shook her head again, but then, as she passed
a sewer grate full of pleading, twisted faces, she became
dreadfully aware of the squishy snap! of her flip-flops. Act
cool, she thought. Don't blow this.

She began to cross the intersection, right in front of the
Steam-Buggy and platoon of homed and helmeted soldiers.

In the carriage window, Ruth thought she saw a pallid,
shiny shape leaning out. It's her! she guessed. And she's
looking through ... a veil.... It was like the kind of veil
women wore at funerals that only covered their eyes, only
this one was glittery with bright, glassy colors.

Like a prism ...

Then a wet gargle cracked through the intersection.
"Stop them. Investigate."

Fuck, Ruth thought.

"You two! Halt in the name of the Grand Duchess Vulgaressa."

Three of the Rot-Soldiers approached, their armor like
sponges soiled by cleaning toilets. Their helmets, too,
were but blobs of rot with a slit to see through. Instead of
swords, they carried large, rusted boat hooks.

"State your business," the lead soldier demanded.

It was all Ruth could do just to look at him. "Oh, hi, sir.
We were just, you know, bopping through town."

He stepped closed, and put the point of his hook right
against her exposed navel. "So it seems. Why, then, did
your aura indicate prevarication when viewed through an
Occult Sensor?"

What the fuck does that mean! She guessed it meant they
looked shifty. "Oh, yeah, sir, see, because my friend here
told me that the buggy belonged to the Vulgaressa."

The hook turned up and cradled a breast. One twist
and she'd be punctured. "And why should that make you
nervous?"

Ruth struggled not to tremble. "Because, see, everyone
knows that the Vulgaressa is a very important personone of the most important in all of Hell-and, well, I got
nervous because I've never been so close to someone that
great and important, sir."

There was a click, and in the corner of Ruth's eye she
saw a figure getting out of the buggy. Then a mushy, wet
gargle of a voice stated, "What an exemplary Human trollop to say such nice things about me."

"Yes, my Duchess!" the lead Rot-Soldier said. He lowered the hook and stood back at attention.

"So, what have we here?" came the splattery rattle.

"Newcomers, I'd say, my Duchess. A Human tramp
and a torsoed priest."

The smell that approached with the figure almost
knocked Ruth over, and when she got her first full look,
she wanted to run away and jump into one of the canals.

"The only good priest is a torsoed priest," the strange
voice continued. "And as for the tramp? Such an attractive
one, I must say."

All that covered the Vulgaressa's body was a brassiere
and a miniskirt fashioned from some manner of reptilian
scales, and she wore a glittery headdress like Cleopatra.
But the rest of her was indeed a containment of pus that
had taken on the shape of a Human female. Her skin was clear as cellophane and through it Ruth could see bones
and veins amidst a yellowish liquefaction. Blots of more
infection comprised her eyes.

Then a hot, squishy finger stroked Ruth's cheek.

"Would you enjoy the honor of making love to me,
pretty one?"

Ruth heard Alexander plead in the tiniest whisper,
.Say yes!"

Ruth's teeth rattled but she managed to reply, "Oh, my
great Vulgaressa, it would be the greatest honor!"

v A wet chuckle. "What delights I could show you in my
Rot Parlor. You could be my Under-Duchess of disease
and infection but ... lo, I haven't time. I and my security
forces must embark on a problem. But please come back
again." The pus-swollen face leaned close. "You will come
back again, won't you?"

"Oh, you can bet I will, Vulgaressa." Ruth's stomach
was turning itself inside out. "I can't wait to see you
again. You're just so beautiful and important...

-"That I am," came the rattle. "You're a lusty sinful little
sexpot, I can tell, and your sin, I'm sure, could treat me to
many pleasures learnt in the Living World. So do return,
and until then, go in torment to love and serve the Morning Star."

"Thank you, Vulgaressa!" Ruth babbled, and began to
stride away. "Have a peachy day!"

From behind, Ruth heard the Vulgaressa say, "There's
certainly no threat to be had from a whore and a dismembered priest. Aldezhor's missive must be folly. There's no
trouble afoot in my District."

"No, Grand Duchess!"

"But we'll continue searching all the same, and maintain the current alert level."

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" Ruth almost
shrieked when they were blocks away. "Did you see that
woman?"

"Yeah, I saw her," Alexander said with a laugh from her
back. "I thought we were cooked."

"Me, too. That fuckin' prism-thing!"

"But, Ruth, you did a fantastic job getting us out of it. I
should've realized that-swindler, professional liar, and
thief. Those traits will benefit us in Hell."

Ruth smirked. "Fuck."

"And remember, reclaim your Grace by toning down
the foul language."

Ruth stalked down another rot-covered road, trying to
avoid mites and worms feasting on the material that
served as asphalt. "Now where are we going, damn it?
I'm tired of walking around this shit hole!"

"You really are amped up today, aren't you? Period?
Hormone imbalance?"

"Fuck off!"

"Just keep going down this road and take a left at Cadaverine Avenue."

"Peachy!" she grumbled and stalked on.

A block down a sign read CONSTRUCTION AREA - ALL
WORKERS MUST NOT WEAR HARD HATS. A contemporarystyled house was being built on the corner. It almost
looked ... normal.

"I thought everything here was built with rot?" Ruth
questioned.

"Rot's the treatment, the finishing touch. The basic
building materials here are similar to those in the Living
World. In the Outer Sector North, there's a nearly limitless forest full of Bone Pine and Druid Oak, trees that
grow a thousand feet. And there's plenty of stone and
mud for brick-making, lime for cement."

"So ... where's the rot?"

"This is prime bloodfront property here, Ruth. Very expensive, like Naples in Florida. So only the best rotcultures are used." Alexander wagged a stump. "See
those Trolls there?"

Ruth saw half a dozen of the squat, bumpy things applying paint rollers to the outer walls of the house.

"It's not paint. It's patented rot-culture. There are several Culture-Stations in the district. They just fill these big
cauldrons with body parts, blood, fungus, mold, lichens,
and any kind of filth you can name, and toss it in the vat. County Building Sorcerers cast Decay Incantations over
the cauldrons, and then it all ferments for a while. When
it's ready, they can it and ship it out. Just like SherwinWilliams. Watch what happens."

Ruth watched, all right. As the Trolls pushed their
rollers back and forth, each streak of liquefaction began to
bubble, then grow.

"Holy shit! The rot's growing on the wood!"

"Sure is," the priest said. Another block down, beside
some trendy town houses swollen with decay, he said,
"Take a look in there."

Ruth peeked into the splotched window. You gotta be
shitting me.... Inside, she noted carpets of rot, couches
and chairs and tables all fat with rot. Pictures on the walls
were framed with rot, and even the books on the bookshelves were bound in covers meticulously crafted by thin
boards of desiccated rot.

"You can fuckin' have it!" she snapped, then treaded on.

"Oh, and check that out up there."

Ruth looked up. Shit ...

In the center of the town square stood a column of rot a
thousand feet high. Birds with leathery wings and dog
faces flew circles around its peak, plucking smaller things
out of the tinged sky. Ruth saw tiny windows at the very
top, and from one of the windows, a gnarly figureprobably a City-Imp-jumped.

So much for him.

The body hit the street with a splat!

"Ever seen the Space Needle in Seattle? Well, that's the
Rot-Needle," Alexander explained. "What do you think
of that?"

"I think it's fucked-up."

"Hey, there's a public bench," the priest noted next.
"Set me down a minute, will you? I'm tired."

Ruth wanted to laugh at his rudeness. I'm the one lugging his hypocritical ass, but he's the one who's tired ... ? She
groaned and unshouldered the priest, setting his torso
down on the bench.

"Ibat's better."

Ruth sat and stretched her shapely legs forward. She
groaned again when she noted the area's details: trees
covered with rot, sidewalks caked with it. In the small
park before them, even the grass was rot, and the musky
flowers were dumps of decay growing off stems. Something on a tree caught her eye and she jumped up. "Look!
Coconuts! I'm starving!" and she reached up for the large,
familiar seed. "We'd get these all the time in Florida after
a hurricane."

Alexander chuckled. "That's no coconut, Ruth. It's an
egg case for an Ova-Fluke. When it bites you, it releases
eggs that swim through your bloodstream to your
ovaries. That means any mongrel kids you have will
be..."

Ruth glanced over in dread. "Fucked-up?"

"In a big way."

She rushed back to the bench. "Well, lemme tell you
this, buddy. One thing I will never be in Hell is pregnant"

"Don't be too sure. Rape is the status quo here, so you
have to be careful. Especially a Human woman with your
looks. The way it works is two Humans can't reproduce,
but other species? That's another story unfortunately. If
you get raped by an Ogre, Imp, Gargoyle-anything
Hellborn-you'll have a Hybrid kid. If you get snatched
up by a Grand Duke to be in his harem, same thing. You'll
be the vessel for his offspring."

"My ass!"

"And if an OP Squad gets a hold of you-"

"An Overpopulation Squad. They're select Conscripts
who scour the streets for attractive females, then take
them to do hundred-year tours at an FI Station."

"Forced Insemination. In the Living World, the big deal
is stem-cell research and gene splicing. Here it's gene corruption. They keep you perpetually pregnant and experiment with what comes out. Overpopulation is a state law.
Lucifer wants lots and lots of new births to keep the
streets stuffed with turmoil and misery, and to keep the natural resource levels up. Blood's used for water, flesh is
used for meat, bones for mortar."

Ruth's face twisted around. "That's hideous, man! It
doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't. But remember, here everything is opposite. Everything that seems illogical and wrong in the Living World, like war, exploitation, addiction, violence, is
logical and right here."

Ruth stared off. Crazy, she thought. Do I really deserve
this? She reached instinctively into her pocket, then
swore. "You don't have any cigarettes, do ya?"

"Sorry. I had to quit those, too. A penance."

"They don't even have cigarettes in Hell?"

"Sure, they do. Get some money from my top breast
pocket, then buy yourself a pack. Get us some food, too."