Eric Flint: Mother of Demons

The universe, which had tortured Nukurren all her life, would extract this final, gleeful moment of agony.

Though it never showed on her mantle, Nukurren's shoroku had broken then. Had shattered into pieces. The one tie which might have held her back, her love for Dhowifa and concern over his wellbeing, had snapped like the slenderest thread. Dhowifa was safe, now, with Ushulubang and the demons, as safe as he could ever be.

Nothing, now, held Nukurren from her revenge.

The Utuku cannibals who died under her flail and fork that day, died horribly by eights and eights, had simply the misfortune of being the manifestation, to Nukurren, of that ultimate cannibal. They could not stand against her any more than they could have withstood Death itself, Despair itself, Nothing itself.

Nukurren had wreaked her terrible rage on the universe, and had taken from it the last, full, bitter measure. Her spirit had blazed the blinding blue of pure fury, and her soul had been filled with the purest black of the most pitiless executioner. But never, not once, had she allowed the universe to see the colors of her vengeance.

No, she would repay the universe in the same bleak hue with which it had always tormented her. She had not expected to survive the charge, but she had intended, on that last day of her life, to have the grim satisfaction of casting her death into the beak of creation in the same color it had first spewed her forth. Nothing.

In the event, to her surprise, she had survived. Had survived, she realized later, only because she had not expected to, and had not cared if she did.

She still did not care. She was glad that Dzhenushkunutushen and most of the other young demons had survived. She was especially glad that the demon Ludumilaroshokavashiki had survived, to bring comfort and joy to Dzhenushkunutushen during the many hours she spent in the hospital with him. (Even, toward the end of Dzhenushkunutushen's convalescence, making love to her mate; and if the demon way of lovemaking was, like so much else, messy and wet and grotesque, Nukurren had not minded.) Nukurren was glad, even, that the demonlord had survived. She did not much care for Yoshefadekunula, but she knew how much he meant to Dzhenushkunutushen, and Ludumilaroshokavashiki, and all the demons.

But Nukurren's own survival meant nothing to her. She had survived, but so had the universe. Cannibals had died, but the cannibal remained. So it had always been. So it would always be.

When she heard what Dhowifa had to say, she felt a slight curiosity. Nothing more. Later, in the command circle, after Kopporu explained the proposal to her, Nukurren felt, if anything, even less.

So. Once again, I am to be a mercenary.

Then, harshly:

Be thankful, fool. Not many people would hire a one-eyed, perverted mercenary. And you have no other skills. And nowhere else to go.

"I accept," she said, and turned away.

"Stop."

The voice belonged to the Mother of Demons.

Nukurren turned back.

"Yes, Mother of De-"

"Call me Inudira."

Nukurren made the gesture of obedience.

"Tell me how you understand our proposal, Nukurren."

"You want to hire my services as a trainer of warriors. It is a common job for mercenaries. The pay is not as good as battle pay, but-" she gestured to her eye "-I am satisfied. I do not ask as to the pay itself. So long as Dhowifa and I have food and shelter, I will not complain."

Inudiratoledo made the demon gesture of negation, a peculiar sideways shaking of the head.

"That is what I thought. You are wrong, Nukurren. We have no use for a mercenary."

"Those are my only skills."

Again, that odd gesture.

"That is not my point. The skills of a warrior are not the same as the nature of a mercenary. Your skills we need, and badly. But not if they come with the soul of a mercenary."

"I do not understand."

"I will try to explain. Has Dhowifa told you what we are hoping to do here? The- nashiyonu- we wish to weave?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe it can be done?"

Nukurren hesitated.

"Speak honestly."

There could be no defying that voice.

"No. I do not believe it can be done."

"Why?"

Nukurren made the gesture of resignation.

"The world is a place of evil. It has always been so. Evil cannot be destroyed."

"On the world from which I came, Nukurren, there was also much evil. Much evil, and much as you have seen it on this world. There is still some to this day. But not so much as in the past."

"The demons have conquered evil?"

"You cannot conquer evil, Nukurren. Evil is not a thing from beyond, a foe to be vanquished. It is a thing which emerges from within the life of a people. It can only be changed, by changing that life. That is what we seek to do."

Nukurren considered her words. She had never thought of it in that manner.

Perhaps I should start paying more attention to what Dhowifa is saying.

"How long will it take, this change?"

"A very long time, Nukurren. It will not happen in your lifetime, or in mine. Not for many generations to come. We can only begin the change. And even in that beginning, we will create new evils alongside the ones we lessen. But we will be on the right road."

"You are certain-that it is the right road?"

"Yes, Nukurren. I have spent my life studying that road. The one we travel will be different, in many ways. No two roads are ever the same. But-there are always certain forks, where certain choices are made. We are at such a fork today.

"Long ago, in my world, such a fork was reached, and a people made a decision. They made the right decision. In so doing, they did not eliminate all evil. By no means. They brought much evil with them, and created still more. Great wars had to be fought, to change those evils. But those wars, and those changes, would not have been possible had they not made the right choice at an earlier fork."

She hesitated.

"I do not have the time now to explain all this. Soon we will be creating a new kind of school, where I will explain this-and much more-at great length. I would be glad if you chose to become a student. But for the moment "When that people came to that fork, Nukurren, and made their choice of road, there were many other peoples who were angry at the choice. It was a new choice, and one not to their liking. The new people-the new nashiyonu -were a small people, surrounded by powerful enemies. They had to fight for their existence, knowing little of the art of war. They eventually won their battle, but it was very difficult.

"It would have been even more difficult had they not had the help of a warrior. A veteran from one of the old and powerful prevalates. A master of the skills of battle. That veteran came and showed them the ways of war. He was not a mercenary, Nukurren. He did not come because he had been paid, he came because he wanted to help create a new road. That is what we need."

Nukurren was silent, for over a minute. Then, she said: "I must think."

The Mother of Demons nodded. "Yes. You must. It is not easy to accept hope. Hope is the most terrible emotion of all, Nukurren, for it has no color. It is color itself, and thus we fear it more than any color."

Nukurren pondered these words. She remembered the face of the Mother of Demons, days past, as she sat in the hospital where her children lay dying. Unyielding, like bronze, where that of all other demons had been twisted and contorted; waterless, where all others had been wet. And Nukurren understood, then, that the words the Mother of Demons had just spoken were words she had torn from her own soul's despairing grasp.

"I will return," she said. "First, I must think."

Once outside the command circle, Nukurren found a number of gukuy waiting. For her, she realized. And one demon.