James Gardner: Radiant

"I prefer the term ‘good cop,’ " I whispered back.

"Silence!" the possessed head roared. "It is not for you to judge us. You know nothing of our plight."

"Then enlighten us, that we may benefit from your wisdom," I said.

"We shall enlighten you," the Divine replied through Li’s mouth. "But any benefits therefrom will be short-lived. When we finish consuming this man’s flesh, one of you will be next."

"Take Youn Suu," Festina said. "She’s bioengineered… all kinds of yummy extra vitamins."

"Bitch," I murmured (with a smile).

"I prefer the term ‘bad cop,’ " Festina said.

"You’re wrong thinking we sabotaged the Ascension." Li’s head had composed itself into a smug expression — as smug as anyone could be while clumps of gray fuzz snacked on his cheeks. "We are the ultimate result of that process. We," said the Divine, "are what you would call Uplifted Fuentes."

"I’ve seen Uplifted Fuentes," Festina replied. "They look like purple jelly."

"Impostors!" the Divine howled. "Lying, deceitful frauds!"

"Why?"

"They claim we are not truly elevated!" Li’s head made a snorting sound that might have been a laugh or a sniffle. "You saw what we can do — how we drew your companion to us. You’ll experience the same power soon enough. Even if you run, we shall drag you back by force of will and munch with delight on your bones. But the Jelly Ones… they whisper… we shut them out, but they whisper… they say we are pitiful craven things who never really rose at all."

"Gee," said Festina, "how could they think that?"

I gave her a warning look. The Divine were craven things — whining snivelers without enlightenment — but like Bamar demons who could be fooled by Ugly Screaming Stink-names, the gray spores shouldn’t be underestimated just because they seemed like buffoons. This moss had real powers: telekinesis and who knew what else. Their mentality might be deficient (perhaps just degraded with age), but they were still deadly. Just ask Ambassador Li.

"The Jelly Ones don’t understand you," I said. "They’re cruel to torment you with their whispering. Do they do it often?"

"They never stop. Never! When they get close enough, we destroy them… but mostly they stay out of range and plague us with taunts. They say they could help if only we’d let them. Liars! We don’t need their help."

"I’ll bet you hold others at bay too," I said. "Other creatures besides the Jelly Ones."

"Oh yes, many others. We have millions of enemies — millions and millions! All of them hateful and jealous. But we kill them if they get too close."

"What about the settlers?" Festina asked. "The Unity. The Greenstriders. They lived here for years, and you didn’t eat them."

"We are the Divine!" they shrieked through Li’s mouth. "Do we squander our strength on lesser beings when we must conserve power to fight greater enemies?"

"Ah," said Festina, under her breath. "The bastards have limited energy."

"Besides," the Divine continued, "why should we exert ourselves when microbes do the job for us? In time, the microbes turn all invaders to smoke. Then the newcomers cease to be annoyances."

"You’re on good terms with the EMP clouds?" Festina asked.

"The clouds are beneath our contempt… but they know their place. At one time, they tried to steal our treasure, but-"

"Treasure?" Festina and I repeated in unison.

"Our blessing. Our inheritance."

"O Splendid Ones," I said, "perhaps you should explain what that means. We wish to comprehend your true greatness."

"We’re glad to do so," the Divine replied. "Too long have we been misunderstood. Listen, and be amazed."

As the Divine began to speak, Ubatu laid me on the floor. That might just have meant she was resting her arms — why hold me during a potentially lengthy diatribe, when she might need all her strength later? — but I was still troubled by her action. Ubatu hadn’t been carrying me out of courtesy or compassion; it was something to do with Ifa-Vodun. She saw me as the vessel of a particularly powerful loa. I’d thought she wanted to keep her hands on me and perhaps win favor with the Balrog through displays of worshipful servitude.

But now Ubatu had met the Divine. And now she’d set me down. I couldn’t help wondering if she’d decided the Divine would be more susceptible to her pandering than the Balrog had been. They certainly seemed better candidates for being manipulated: powerful, but not very bright. If Ubatu abased herself before the Divine — if she offered to be their priestess — they might be gullible enough to accept.

Especially if she could prove her loyalty. Perhaps by offering Festina and me as sacrifices. And betraying the secret that I harbored the Divine’s enemies: Balrog spores. If Ubatu had been capable of speech, she might have already blurted out the truth. As it was, she’d have to bide her time: wait for some kind of opening that would let her catch the Divine’s attention before Festina and I could stop her.

Or not. I might be inventing ulterior motives where none existed. Ubatu could simply be resting her arms. I wished I could still read her life force, but my sixth sense had lost its reach. I had to fall back on my natural five senses, keeping a close eye on Ubatu to make sure she did nothing treacherous while the Divine talked.

Meanwhile, Festina took up a position leaning directly on the curtain of blackness across the room’s entrance. If the energy field lost its solidity for the slightest instant, she’d fall into the outer corridor and perhaps beyond the Divine’s clutches. Putting her weight on the blackness might also force the Divine to expend energy maintaining the curtain’s impenetrability. If the gray spores had limited resources of power, why not compel them to use as much energy as possible?

I found it difficult to believe the Divine were as mighty as they claimed. They reminded me of a grandiose jungle tribe, hiding from modern society, claiming to be masters of the world but living on lizards and insects. If we could make them overextend themselves, we might find a way to avoid being eaten like Li. But first, we had to listen to them pontificate.

"Long, long ago," the Divine said through Li’s half-eaten lips, "we were technicians at this station. The ones who readied it for Stage Two of the Ascension. We did exactly what we were told. Exactly! We followed the scientists’ directions to the letter."

"Fine, we got the message," Festina said. "You just followed orders, and you weren’t the ones who screwed up. What happened?"

"The Ascension happened!" The Divine apparently liked to shriek. This particular yell sounded more breathy than those previous; I wondered if the spores had started snacking on Li’s lungs. "It happened just as predicted. First, the microbes pulled apart our bodies. Then, the energy projectors in this station activated themselves. It was glorious."

"What went wrong?"

"From our viewpoint, nothing. In the form of clouds, we gathered at the energy projectors. We felt ourselves change — growing more powerful. New strength flooded through us, and we used that strength to feed on the radiation. We gathered it to us; we drank it in; we reveled in it. All that power for ourselves."

"For yourselves?" I asked. "What about the people in Drill-Press? Weren’t they supposed to get their share too?"

"There wasn’t enough to go around! The scientists must have miscalculated. After we ascended, we drove the others away; otherwise, they would have stolen what was rightfully ours."

"You’d already ascended," Festina said, "but you kept sucking up the power pumped out by this station?"

"The power belonged to us. Our treasure. Our due."