Spires of Infinity (19 page)

“The last time Cain was free he nearly destroyed all of existence,” Kari added.

“Because of an ancient sin, Cain was cursed by god with true immortality. He can’t die, no matter how much he tries, and his desire for death has driven him utterly mad. The only way that he can end his own existence is if he ends existence itself. He doesn’t care about all the innocents he’ll take with him. All he wants is an end to his life.”

“But what does any of that have to do with this world and the people here

conforming,” Keir asked.

“I wish I knew,” Kari shrugged. “I don’t understand it either.”

“The Apostle teaches that once enough worlds believe in Cain, and all false gods have been destroyed, he’ll return to show us the way,” Michael said. “Maybe he’s just using that line to find a way to set Cain free.”

“Whatever his plans and intentions,” Kari said, “we know the Apostle for evil, and we can’t let him have his way here or anywhere else. Not to mention the fact that he’s got his hands on our useless brother. We’ll help stop him in any way that we can.”

Chapter 17: Frustration

Everything had always been cold on the World Closest to Perdition, except in the killing arena. Battle was always hot, even when the sweat froze on the Apostle’s skin.

Despite her abject hatred of the Council, and the world she’d grown up on, she found the cold to be strangely comforting, like an old friend that had seen her through the most difficult parts of her life. The temperature had been turned down to make the prisoner more uncomfortable, but the Apostle was right at home in it.

Stirring in the back of her mind, Cain seemed restless of late, despite everything proceeding according to his whims. Almost everything she’d done on this world of technological wonders was at his order.

On the World Closest to Perdition, she’d heard his voice clearly in her head, but as she moved further away from it, she needed the help of meditation to receive his orders. His emotions still bled into hers, and she could always feel him watching through her eyes, but all she ever heard from him this far away from home, was his laughter.

Cain was erratic at the best of times, but the Apostle had been shackled with him long enough to recognize when he was in one of his moods. Occasionally he would order her to do something completely vindictive, or nonsensical for no other reason than to watch what happened as a result. This world was a perfect example.

“Give them what they want,” he’d told her, “and control them with it. Let them see what a world full of fools that do everything alike is really like. Then crush them with their own stupidity.”

Feeling little over the matter, one way or another, she’d carried out the bidding of her god. Using the conformist movement already spreading through the populace, she’d seized the government purely for Cain’s amusement. Despite its many technological advances, this world did not have the ability to travel through time, so it was useless to her vendetta. Coldly patient, she could wait for Cain to have his fun before continuing her search on other worlds.

Tapping a gloved fingertip against her mask thoughtfully, the Apostle was never quite sure if Cain could clearly read her thoughts or not. Sometimes he knew exactly what she was thinking, and others he was completely oblivious. Perhaps distance from the Eye of Perdition affected his hold on her. If he could only read her thoughts when she was close to the Eye, it would explain a lot.

Having been to a thousand different worlds in her quest to undo the sins she’d been forced to commit, the Apostle had encountered many things. What lay bolted to the metal examination table, however, was something she had not seen since murdering Subject 27.

Mostly unconscious, the prisoner’s half-open, glazed eyes moved slowly around

the room, not really seeing it. With raven black hair to his shoulders, and oddly purple eyes, he seemed to almost radiate mischief, even in his semi-conscious state. If he were just an ordinary non-conformist refusing to cut his hair or dress like everyone else, there would be no problem. However, he was not. He was a Subject like she had been before becoming the Apostle of Cain.

If she’d never encountered others like herself on dozens of different worlds, then she had to believe that they did no occur in nature. That could only logically mean that all Subjects were created, as she had been, in the laboratories of the World Closest to Perdition.

Least troubling of her explanations for this was that he was just an escaped

Subject who had somehow run from the Council. Though that could also be the most troubling, she couldn’t quite decide. Least because it meant he was no threat to her.

Most because it meant that escape had been possible, and she’d killed two dozen of her fellow Subjects in combat for nothing.

Perhaps he was a test, sent by the Council to make sure her skills were still sharp, and let her know that they could always find her, wherever she was. Or he could be a second Apostle chosen from another batch of Subjects she’d known nothing about. This would be especially troublesome, as he could greatly hinder her revenge. Perhaps the Council was displeased with her performance, and sent him to kill and replace her. He was making a rather pathetic show of it thus far if that were the case.

Lifting her fist, the Apostle examined the purple crystal dangling from it by a leather cord. It was the same as her own, and he’d been wearing it around his neck. Hers was the only one she’d ever seen, so logically, it had also come from the World Closest to Perdition.

Breathing slowly and evenly, the prisoner seemed content to spend the rest of his life in semi-consciousness, so the Apostle took the time to examine him. He was scrawny compared to male Subjects she’d known. Though well defined, his muscles did not bulge like those of other males. With his body stripped naked, she could see that he was lean, and soft, bearing no scars of battle, nor calluses of hard work and training.

Examining him, the Apostle had never understood the purpose of two genders.

Males looked so odd, lacking the aesthetically pleasing and sleek figures of the females.

Though this particular specimen did look slightly more appealing, lacking the hulking musculature of other male Subjects. And they had a very easy to hit weak spot dangling between their legs where any idiot could reach it. For the life of her, she could see no anatomical purpose for it at all, a strange addition to a body that she already saw as inferior.

Females were sensitive to blows in that area as well, but males were a whole

different story. A good kick could completely incapacitate most men, and those it didn’t flew into a blind rage over the pain. It was very useful in battle.

She had always wondered why the Council continued to produce males with their

blocky, bulging bodies, and that pointless thing between their legs, when the females were obviously a more refined and improved creation. Their greater speed and agility was more than a match for the raw strength that the males possessed, and they were better able to control their aggression.

Males and females amongst humans seemed to have very defined and different

roles in society, though the Apostle could not see why, or any point to it. It was all very strange to her, seeing people acting with affection rather than wariness towards one another. The female humans acted far weaker than they were to attract the attention of the males for some sort of coupling that the Apostle did not quite understand or care much about. Those that coupled for long enough bore offspring, but then, so did women who were not coupled at all. She had yet to see males bearing offspring, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. None of it made any sense to an outside observer like her.

Infants were a strange concept to the Apostle. Having become aware of herself in what humans would call pre-adolescence, the Apostle had never seen an infant or a toddler until going out amongst humanity. She’d been mildly uneasy about bearing an offspring of her own, thinking it might be contagious like some sort of disease, but there seemed to be some outside factor that affected which women bore offspring, and which did not, that she had yet to discover.

Eyeing the naked Subject on the table for a moment, the Apostle hoped that he

was as fiercely protective of his right to wear clothing as she was. It would make him vulnerable, and give her the advantage. The thought of anyone looking upon her bare flesh made her want to kill something, so hopefully it will cause him similar distress.

Pacing with impatience, the Apostle had developed the habit sometime after

leaving the World Closest to Perdition. Her temper had always been short, but she knew how to enforce patience upon herself. Centuries of waiting for her revenge had taught her to be patient, but small wastes of her time, like waiting for someone to wake up, still got to her.

Would the prisoner
never
wake up! Perhaps the stunguns had been a mistake.

With metal bones, her kind had a greater susceptibility to electric shocks. It was one of the few things that could kill a Subject outright. If she’d known what he was, she would have ordered the use of rubber bullets instead. In fact, it was a miracle he was still alive at all. If he was the Council’s pet, she might be in trouble for nearly killing him.

“Stop pacing, Kari,” the Subject on the table muttered. “You’re gonna wear a

tread in the floor.”

Stopping, the Apostle turned toward the prisoner, seeing that his eyes were fully open at last. He’d begun shivering in the deep cold.

“Sure is nippy,” the Subject muttered groggily. “And I got a breeze blowing right through my—“

“What is your number, Subject,” the Apostle demanded, stepping to his side and glaring down at him.

Blinking in confusion, the Subject tried to focus his eyes. “What are you—“

“Your number! What is it!”

“I don’t—“

“Tell me your number before I cut your throat and send your bloodless corpse

back to the Council.”

Muttering unintelligibly, the subject’s eyelids fluttered and slid closed, his breathing slowing to the even rhythm of unconsciousness.

Growling, the Apostle grabbed a handful of his hair, startling herself at the lack of control she displayed over her emotions. Jerking his head up from the table sharply, she let it slam back into the hard metal with a soft thump. She would like to see him sleep through
that
!

“Come back in an hour, Kari,” he groaned, without opening his eyes, “I’ll help you dig the well later.”

“Wake up you fool,” the Apostle shouted.

At last the Subject’s eyes opened fully, causing the Apostle to stare. Her own eyes were a golden color, but otherwise they appeared normal by human standards. This Subject's eyes were those of a beast in the face of a man. The irises and pupils were so large that little of the whites could be seen around the edges. She watched as his large pupils expanded and contracted, adjusting to the light. Could he be a new version of Subject created by the council, with power greater than hers?

“Ah,” the Subject said, taking stock of his surroundings. “The Apostle, I

presume?”

“What is your number? Why did the Council send you?”

“Sure is drafty in here,” the Subject muttered, looking down at his nudity. “That explains it.”

Covering his male parts from her view, the Subject’s bushy black tail curled

around his hip. After being treated like an animal too stupid to know that it was naked for so long, the Apostle could understand his wish for modesty. However, she was somewhat annoyed that her plans to use his discomfort were so easily thwarted.

“As impressive as it is to behold, I usually reserve that for the ladies only.”

Pausing, the Subject thought for a second. “Or I would if I could find one that didn’t mind a man with a four foot long furry protrusion growing out of his extreme lower back.

Amazing what having a tail does to chase away my prospects.”

“Answer the question,” the Apostle demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no number and I’ve never heard of your Council.”

Stepping close, the Apostle leaned over him. “Do you expect me to believe such an obvious lie?”

“I’ve shown you mine,” the Subject said with a mischievous grin. “It’s rude not to show me yours.”

Unable to help herself, the Apostle glanced toward what his tail was covering, face coloring with rage and embarrassment over the thought of showing this fool her own naked flesh in return.

“I wasn’t talking about that,” he grinned, showing an array of wickedly sharp

teeth and fangs. “Your face. Whatever are you hiding behind that mask? You want to talk to me, let’s do it face to face. Man to man.”

The Apostle blinked. Man to man? He thought her male? Any Subject from the

World Closest to Perdition would know that she was female. Perhaps he hadn’t come from the Council after all.

Stuffing the Subject’s crystal necklace into a pocket, she slowly reached a gloved hand back into her hood to release the catch that held her mask in place, pulling it away to reveal her face. The mask improved her vision spectacularly, and had the ability to zoom in, record and playback, and to display heat signatures. She’d worn it for so long that taking it off made her feel almost naked. Hesitating for a second, she pushed her hood back and let it fall away as well, revealing her own wolflike ears, so very much like his and chestnut hair cut in military style.

“You’re a girl,” the Subject said in surprise.

“Now answer the question,” the Apostle said harshly. Her own, unaltered voice sounded very strange in her ears. “What is your number and why did the Council send you?”

“Wow, you’re beautiful.”

Drawing back, the Apostle blinked at him in confusion. That was the sort of thing male humans said to female humans, but she did not understand why. Such a statement seemed to have very little purpose, but the females always appeared to enjoy hearing it for some reason that she could not fathom.

“Jonathan, by the way. And you are?”