The Children of the Company (32 page)
Read The Children of the Company Online
Authors: Kage Baker
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat
It stood ajar. A narrow corridor went straight back into darkness, with a narrower stair ascending to the left. The bottommost stair tread had been thrown open like the lid of a piano bench, revealing a black void below.
I scanned. He was down there, and making no attempt to hide himself. Donal was there with him, still alive. There were no other signs of mortal life, however.
I paced forward into the darkness and stood looking down. Chill air was coming up from below. It stank like a crypt. Rungs leading down into a passageway were just visible, by a wavering pool of green light. So was a staring dead face, contorted into a grimace of rage.
After a moment’s consideration, I removed my hat and set it on the second step. My stick I resolved to take with me, although its sword would be useless against my opponent. No point in any further delay; it was time to descend into yet another hell.
At the bottom of the ladder the light was a little stronger. It revealed more bodies, lying in a subterranean passage of brick plastered over and painted a dull green. The dead had been Celestials, and seemed to have died fighting, within the last few hours. They were smashed like so many insects. The light that made this plain was emanating from a wide doorway that opened off the passage, some ten feet farther on. The smell of death was strongest in there.
“Come in, Victor,” said a voice.
I went as far as the doorway and looked.
In that low-ceilinged chamber of bare plaster, in the fitful glow of one oil lamp, more dead men were scattered. These were all elderly Chinese, skeletally emaciated, and they had been dead some hours and they had not died quietly. One leaned in a chair beside the little table with the flickering lamp; one was hung up on a hook that protruded from a wall; one lay half in, half out of a cupboard passage, his arm flung out as though beckoning. Three were sprawled on the floor beside slatwood bunks, in postures suggesting
they had been slain whilst in the lethargy of their drug and tossed from the couches like rags. The apparatus of the opium den lay here and there; a goldwrapped brick of the poisonous substance, broken pipes, burnt dishes, long matches, bits of wire.
they had been slain whilst in the lethargy of their drug and tossed from the couches like rags. The apparatus of the opium den lay here and there; a goldwrapped brick of the poisonous substance, broken pipes, burnt dishes, long matches, bits of wire.
And there, beyond them, sat the monster of my long nightmares.
“You don’t like my horrible parlor,” chuckled Budu. “Your little white nose has squeezed nearly shut, your nostrils look like a fish’s gills.”
“It’s just the sort of nest you’d make for yourself, you murdering old fool,” I told him. He frowned at me.
“I have never murdered,” he told me seriously. “But these were murderers, and thieves. Who else would keep such a fine secret cellar, eh? A good place for a private meeting.” He leaned back against the wall, lounging at his ease across the top tier of a bunk, waving enormous mud-caked boots. His dress consisted of stained blue-jean trousers, a vast shapeless red coat made from a blanket, and a battered black felt hat. He had let his hair and beard grow long; they trailed down like pale moss over his bare hairy chest. He looked rather like St. Nicholas turned monster.
Donal sat stiffly beside him. Budu had placed his great hand about the boy’s neck, as easily as I might take hold of an axe handle.
“Uncle Jimmy,” moaned Donal.
“Explain yourself, sir,” I addressed Budu, keeping my voice level and cold. He responded with gales of delighted laughter.
“I was the Briton, and you were the little barbarian,” he said. “Look at us now!”
I stepped into the room, having scanned for traps. “I followed your signal,” I told him. “You certainly made it plain enough. May I ask why you thought it was necessary to cut my throat?”
He shrugged, regarding me with hooded eyes. “How else to get your attention but to take your quarry from you? And how to do that but by disabling you? What harm did it do? Spoiled your nice white shirt, yes, and made you angry.”
I tapped my stick in impatience. “What was your purpose in calling me here, old man?”
“To tell you a few truths, and see what you do when you’ve heard them. You were wondering about us, we oldest Old Ones, wondering what became
of us all. You were thinking we’re like badly made clockwork toys, and our Great Toymakers decided to pull us off the shelves of the toyshop.” He stretched luxuriously. Donal tried to turn his head to stare at him, but was held fast as the old creature continued: “No, no. We’re not badly made. I was better made than you, little man. It’s a question of purpose.” He thrust his prognathous face forward at me through the gloom. “I was made a war axe. They made you a shovel. Is the metaphor plain enough for you?”
of us all. You were thinking we’re like badly made clockwork toys, and our Great Toymakers decided to pull us off the shelves of the toyshop.” He stretched luxuriously. Donal tried to turn his head to stare at him, but was held fast as the old creature continued: “No, no. We’re not badly made. I was better made than you, little man. It’s a question of purpose.” He thrust his prognathous face forward at me through the gloom. “I was made a war axe. They made you a shovel. Is the metaphor plain enough for you?”
“I take your meaning.” I moved a step closer.
“You’ve been told all your life that our masters wish only to save things, books and pretty pictures and children, and for this purpose we were made, to creep into houses like mice and steal away loot before time can eat it.”
“That’s an oversimplification, but essentially true.”
“Is it?” He stroked his beard in amusement. I could see the red lines across the back of his hand where I’d clawed him. He hadn’t bothered to heal them yet. “You pompous creature, in your nice clothes. You were made to save things, Victor. I wasn’t. Now, hear the truth: I, and all my kind, were made because our perfect and benign masters wanted
killers
once. Can you guess why?”
killers
once. Can you guess why?”
“Well, let me see.” I swallowed back bile. “You say you’re not flawed.Yet it’s fairly common knowledge that flawed immortals were produced, during the first experiments with the process. What did the Company do about them? Perhaps you were created as a means of eliminating them.”
“Good guess.” He nodded his head. “But wrong. They were never killed, those poor failed things. I’ve seen them, screaming in little steel boxes. No. Guess again.”
“Then … perhaps at one time it was necessary to have agents whose specialty was defense.” I tried. “Prior to the dawn of civilization.”
“An easy guess. You fool, of course it was. You think our masters waited, so gentle and pure, for sweet reason to persuade men to evolve? Oh, no. Too many wolves were preying on the sheep. They needed operatives who could kill, who could happily kill fierce primitives so the peaceful ones could weave baskets and paint bison on walls.” He grinned at me with those enormous teeth, and went on: “We made civilization dawn, I and my kind. We pushed that bright ball over the horizon at last, and we did it by killing! If a man raised his hand against his neighbor, we cut it off. If a tribe painted themselves
for war, we washed their faces with their own blood. Shall I tell you of the races of men you’ll never see? They wouldn’t learn peace, and so we were sent in to slay them, man, woman, and child.”
for war, we washed their faces with their own blood. Shall I tell you of the races of men you’ll never see? They wouldn’t learn peace, and so we were sent in to slay them, man, woman, and child.”
“You mean,” I exhaled, “the Company decided to accelerate mankind’s progress by selectively weeding out its sociopathic members. And if it did? We’ve all heard rumors of something like that. It may be necessary, from time to time, even now. Not a pretty thought, but one can see the reasons. If you hadn’t done it, mankind might have remained in a state of savagery forever.” I took another step forward.
“We did good work,” he said plaintively. “And we weren’t hypocrites. It was fun.” His pale gaze wandered past me to the doorway. There was a momentary flicker of something like uneasiness in his eyes, some ripple across the surface of his vast calm.
“What is the point of telling me this, may I ask?” I pressed.
“To show you that you serve lying and ungrateful masters, child,” he replied, his attention returning to me. “Stupid masters. They’ve no understanding of this world they rule. Once we cleared the field so they could plant, how did they reward us? We had been heroes. We became looters.
“And you should see how they punished the ones who argued! No more pruning the vine, they told us, let it grow how it will.You’re only to gather the fruit now, they told us. Was that fair? Was it, when we’d been created to gather heads?”
“No, I dare say it wasn’t. But you adapted, didn’t you?” To my dismay I was shaking with emotion. “You found ways to satisfy your urges in the Company’s service. You’d taken your share of heads the day you caught me!”
“Rescued you,” he corrected me. “You were only a little animal, and if I hadn’t taken you away, you’d have grown into a big animal like your father. There were lice crawling in his hair, when I stuck his head on the pike. There was food in his beard.”
I spat in his face. I couldn’t stop myself. The next second I was sick with mortification, to be provoked into such operatic behavior, and dabbed hurriedly at my chin with a handkerchief. Budu merely wiped his face with the back of his hand and smiled, content to have reduced my stature.
“Your anger changes nothing. Your father was a dirty beast. He was an oathbreaker and an invader, too, as were all his people. You’ve been taught
your history, you know all this! So don’t judge me for enjoying what I did to exterminate his race. And see what happened when I was ordered to stop killing Saxons! When Arthur died, Roman order died with him. All that we’d won at Badon Hill was lost and the Saxon hordes returned, never to leave. What sense did it make, to have given our aid for a while to one civilized tribe, and then leave it to be destroyed?”
your history, you know all this! So don’t judge me for enjoying what I did to exterminate his race. And see what happened when I was ordered to stop killing Saxons! When Arthur died, Roman order died with him. All that we’d won at Badon Hill was lost and the Saxon hordes returned, never to leave. What sense did it make, to have given our aid for a while to one civilized tribe, and then leave it to be destroyed?”
His gaze traveled past me to the doorway again. Who was he expecting? They weren’t coming to join him, that much was clear.
“We do not involve ourselves in the petty territorial squabbles of mortals,” I recited. “We do not embrace their causes. We move amongst them, saving what we can, but we are never such fools as to be drawn into their disputes.”
“Yes, you’re quoting Company policy to me. But don’t you see that your fine impartiality has no purpose? It accomplishes nothing! It’s wasteful! You know the house will burn, so you creep in like thieves and steal the furniture beforehand, and then watch the flames. Wouldn’t it be more efficient use of your time to prevent the fire in the first place?” He paused a moment and looked at the back of his hand with a slight frown. I saw the red lines there fade to pink as he set them to healing over.
“It would be more efficient, yes,” I said, “but for one slight difficulty. You couldn’t prevent the fire happening. It isn’t possible to change history.”
“Recorded history.” He bared his big teeth in amusement once more. “It isn’t possible to change recorded history. And do you think even that sacred rule’s as unbreakable as you’ve been told? I have made the history that was written and read. It disappoints me. I will make something new now.”
“Shall you really?” I folded my arms. Doubtless he was going to start bragging about being a god. It went with the profile of this sort of lunatic.
“Yes, and you’ll help me, if you’re wise. Listen to me. In the time before history was written down, in those days, our masters were bold. All mortals have inherited the legend that there was once a golden age when men lived simply in meadows, and the Earth was uncrowded and clean, and there was no war, but only arts of peace.
“But when recorded history began—when we were forbidden to exterminate the undesirables—that paradise was lost. And our masters let it be lost, and that is the condemnation I fling in their teeth.” He drew a deep breath.
“Your point, sir?”
“I’ll make an end of recorded history. I can so decimate the races of men that their golden age will come again, and never again will there be enough of them to ravage one another or the garden they inhabit. And we immortals will be their keepers. Victor, little Victor, how long have you lived? Aren’t you tired of watching them fight and starve? You creep among them like a scavenger, but you could walk among them like—”
“Like a god?” I sneered.
“I had been about to say, an angel,” Budu sneered back. “I remember the service I was created for. Do you, little man? Or have you ever even known? Such luxuries you’ve had, among the poor mortals! Have you never felt the urge to
really
help them? But the time’s soon approaching when you can.”
really
help them? But the time’s soon approaching when you can.”
“Ridiculous,” I stated. “You know as well as I do that history won’t stop. There’ll be just as much warfare and mortal misery in this new century as in the centuries before, and nothing anyone can do will alter one event.” I gauged the pressure of his fingers on Donal’s neck. How quickly could I move to get them loose?
“Not one event? You think so? Maybe.” He looked sly. “But our masters will turn what can’t be changed to their own advantage, and why can’t I? Think of the great slaughters to come, Victor. How do you know I won’t be working there? How do you know I haven’t been at work already? How do you know I haven’t got disciples among our people, weary as I am of our masters‘blundering, ready as I am to mutiny?”
“Because history states otherwise,” I told him flatly. “There will be no mutiny, no war in heaven if you like. Civilization will prevail. It is recorded that it will.”
“Is it?” He grinned. “And can you tell me who recorded it? Maybe I did. Maybe I will, after I win. Victor, such a simple trick, but it’s never occurred to you. History is only writing, and
one can write lies
!”
one can write lies
!”
I stared at him. No, in fact, it never had occurred to me. He rocked to and fro in his merriment, dragging Donal with him. Silent tears streamed down the child’s face.
Budu lurched forward, fixing me with his gaze. “Listen now. I have my followers, but we need more. You’ll join me because you’re clever, and you’re weary of this horror, too, and you owe me the duty of a son, for I saved you from death. You’re a Facilitator and know the Company codes. You’ll work in secret, you’ll obtain certain things for me, and we’ll take mortal children and work the
augmentation process on them, and raise them as our own operatives, for our own purposes, loyal to us. Then we’ll pull the weeds from the Garden. Then we’ll geld the bull and make him pull the plough. Then we’ll slaughter the wolf that preys on the herd. Just as we used to do! There will be order.
augmentation process on them, and raise them as our own operatives, for our own purposes, loyal to us. Then we’ll pull the weeds from the Garden. Then we’ll geld the bull and make him pull the plough. Then we’ll slaughter the wolf that preys on the herd. Just as we used to do! There will be order.
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