Lucian: Dark God's Homecoming (2 page)

Thus did I take my leave of the mortal realm and set my foot upon the Road once more, the Road leading home.

My faceless acquaintance with the excessively somber sartorial preferences had been lurking along the way. Who was he? No way to know, and he had not seemed the talkative sort. Had he been lying in wait for me? Someone in my line of work cannot afford to believe in coincidences.

The dream images faded then, and I drifted in peaceful blackness for a time. It could not last, of course, though I clung to that great oblivion with all of my unconscious willpower for as long as I could. Some small part of me, you see, knew where I would find myself upon awakening, and wished to delay that bitter revelation for as long as possible. Soon enough, though, reality reasserted itself and my worst fears were dreadfully, depressingly confirmed.

# # #

I awoke to a cold floor beneath my prone body and a throbbing in my skull. My muscles ached, my spirits flagged, and depression overwhelmed me, to the point that I scarcely felt any desire to move. Though there was scarcely a reason to do so, I opened my eyes, and was greeted with the sights I had expected. Black marble tile beneath me stretched endlessly into darkness in every direction; immense stone columns soared into nothingness above. No visible walls. No furnishings whatsoever. All just as I remembered it from my last stay here, a thousand years ago. Any remaining hopes I might have entertained evaporated.

At that moment the sound of hushed words from nearby reached my ears, and I became aware that I was not alone. My eyes, peering through the gloom, focused on three individuals who sat huddled against a nearby column. They were clad in what appeared to be military flight suits, dark blue with gold insignias. The look seemed somehow familiar to me. Alliance? That could scarcely be possible, here. Yet, as their faces resolved to me, I knew they were no gods. Humans? Apparently. But—here? How?

“—told you already,” one of them was saying, “there was no malfunction. All the systems showed green. It just powered down. I don’t know what we could have done differently.” The voice was male, high-pitched and filled with anxiety. “Everything checked out right up until the end.”

“If that’s so,” came a deeper, rougher voice, “then you must have screwed things up even worse than I thought.”

“That’s enough,” a third voice stated firmly. “Whatever happened, we’re here now, and our only priority is to get back home. And we will.” This one was female, firm, and confident. The leader?

“We don’t even know where ‘here’ is,” the first voice complained.

“Then we have to find out.”

A pause, then the second, rougher voice growled, “Maybe our friend over there knows. Maybe we should try to wake him up again.”

“Leave him alone,” the woman said. “He looks to be in worse shape than we are.”

One of the figures was staring at me.

“No, I think he’s already awake.” It was the first guy, the nervous one.

I sighed softly, wanting to roll over and go back to sleep. But some small degree of curiosity about these people, I had to admit, tugged at my mind. Reluctantly, and with some effort, I pulled myself up to a seated position and faced the others, waiting.

They all stood then and made their way over to stand in front of me in a semicircle.

“Hello,” the woman said. “Can you understand me?”

Their uniforms were definitely Terran Alliance issue, I could see now. Could they actually be Alliance officers? Or was this some joke of Baranak’s?

Not meeting their eyes, I nodded once.

“Good,” she said. “Are you all right?” A pause, then, “Can you tell us where we are?”

This woman surprised me. Her voice was strong and even, lacking the fear and desperation I would have expected from any mortal confined in this place—the fear already detectable in at least one of the others. Perhaps she simply knew too little to fully appreciate her plight, I thought to myself. Drowning in self-pity and horrified at the thought of revealing that fact to mere humans, I resolved to ignore them.

“Can you tell us where we are?” she said again. “Can you help us?”

I emitted one sharp laugh before rolling onto my side, my back to them.

“Hey!” shouted the rougher voice. “What’s that all about? You can understand us—why don’t you answer the captain’s questions?”

Seconds ticked by. I was in no hurry. Where else would any of us go? But they were all standing there, waiting, hoping I could tell them something that would explain their bizarre predicament. At last, I turned back to them.

“Who,” I asked, “are you?”

They all seemed shocked that I had actually spoken.

Regaining her composure quickly, the woman said, “I’m Captain Evelyn Colicos. Terran Alliance Navy.”

The Terran Alliance. So it was true. Only a day earlier, still powerless and trapped in exile, I had believed the Alliance represented my mortal enemy—mortal in every sense of the word. Now, a god again and removed entirely from that existence, I cared nothing for that government or its people, save a lingering sense of resentment and animosity.

The woman gestured at the two men, gruff one first.

“Lieutenants Frank Cassidy and Tony Kim. And we…” Her voice lowered, and she all but whispered, “…We would appreciate your help.”

I took a deep breath, pursed my lips, and looked them over carefully, taking the opportunity to appraise them. All three were what one would expect of naval officers. They were fit to the point of being athletic. The captain had short but full blonde hair and piercing blue eyes so vivid they struck me as belonging more on one of my kind than hers. Behind her, the rough-sounding guy, Cassidy, was tall, though not so much as me, and an imposing specimen, blunt of nose and ruddy of cheeks. He kept his head shaved and his muscles filled out his flight suit. The other man, Kim, possessed hair even darker than mine, worn in a crew cut, and was the shortest of the three, though wiry.

Perhaps realizing after a few moments that I was in no hurry to speak, the captain addressed me again.

“We—” She hesitated, frowning, then, “I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense to you, but it doesn’t to me, either. We were aboard a long-range spacecraft, and something happened—”

“The
Copernicus
,” I said. I remembered hearing about its disappearance on the news, days ago, just before I’d taken my leave of Mysentia and started for home.

“Yes! Yes, that’s right.”

Emboldened perhaps that she had gotten a word or two out of me, she pressed on.

“We had just jumped, and something must have gone wrong. When we emerged into what should have been subspace, the engines shut down…”

“Yours was an experimental ship,” I said.

“How did you know that?” the smaller man, Kim, demanded. It seemed to me he hovered perpetually on the verge of hysteria.

“I think I know,” Cassidy said. “I think he’s from the Outer Worlds.”

“A spy, maybe?” Kim asked, looking from Cassidy back to me.

“He does look familiar, now that I think about it.”

The captain silenced them both with a look, then turned back to me, her brow furrowed.

“What else do you know about our situation?”

“You sought to improve jump technology. You jumped farther than you know.” I grinned. “Much farther.”

“The stars disappeared,” Kim said quietly, his voice shaking.

Ignoring him, the captain continued.

“The next thing we knew, we were attacked by these bright lights.”

“The Hosts of Baranak.”

“I—all right, sure. And they nearly tore our ship apart before bringing us here. Wherever here is. And a man—a huge man, in gold armor—threw us into this—” she looked around at the infinite-seeming depths of blackness around us, “—this
place
, whatever it is.”

“We didn’t do anything to him,” Cassidy interjected angrily.

“You scarcely could have,” I replied, a slight smile playing about the corner of my mouth. “And he was no ‘man.’”

The captain looked back at the others. Each of them shared a confused expression. Shaking her head as if to clear it, as if this could all make sense to her somehow if she could just sort out the pieces, she turned back to me.

“We’re lost,” she said flatly. “We’re out of our depths. Anything you could tell us would be welcome.”

I met her eyes. “Are you so sure of that?”

She shrugged. When she spoke again, her voice was softer.

“At least tell us
something
…”

I considered her request for a long moment.

“My advice to you: Abandon all hope,” I said, and turned my back once more.

Silence for perhaps two seconds, and then, “Son of a bitch! Who do you think you are?” Cassidy grabbed my shoulder roughly. “You’ll answer our questions, or—”

His voice trailed off as my dark eyes met his. He felt something of the Power then, and faltered, staggering back a step. My wrath aroused at last, I made as if to rise, but stopped myself as the woman interposed herself between us.

“Frank, that isn’t helping,” the woman said. “Step back.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Cassidy moved away, smoothing out his flight suit as he went, his face still revealing his anger.

“We don’t even know this person,” the captain said. “Maybe we should start over.” She bent down over me, extending a hand. “My name is Evelyn. What’s yours?”

She startled me with her composure, and, though my anger dissipated almost instantly, I determined to shake her up. Considering the truth I was about to reveal, I couldn’t help but laugh. I took her hand and shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. I am Lucian, considered in these parts to be the devil himself. And as to where we are,” I gestured broadly with both hands, “welcome to the dungeon of Heaven.”

Their faces registered no expression. Unfortunate—I’d hoped at least for shock or fear or something to indicate they appreciated the seriousness of their situation. But they truly had no clue.

“Now if you will excuse me,” I said in as friendly a manner as I could muster, “I have to be thinking of a way out of this most inescapable of prisons, before Baranak surely returns to execute us all.” I turned away, and this time they respected my wishes.

Perhaps, during my time among their kind, I would have been more patient with them, more willing to help. But those days were now over. And thus I found I had little interest in their plight. And I had not, I reminded myself, not precisely been among their kind—the Alliance—but among their enemies, the Outer Worlds. I had fought their kind for centuries. Help them now? Hardly, I thought. Let them rot.

# # #

Whether they believed me insane or simply decided to abide by my request, the humans left me alone after that exchange, and didn’t speak to me again for some time. They retreated a few feet away, huddled together, and spoke in hushed but intense whispers. Try as I might, though, I found myself quite unable to ignore them.

The captain, Evelyn Colicos—I surprised myself with how easily that name came back to me—carried herself as a leader should, despite being well out of her depths. She kept her cool, for the most part, and directed their discussion, as they walked through the series of events that had led them here.

After a time, the debate grew heated along some finer point Cassidy was pressing. Kim took issue and their voices raised. Just as they seemed ready to come to blows, the captain stepped between them.