It was the smell you
noticed first. Because the garden was inside, the air was thick with heady
scents, like breathing pure perfume, and the colours burst in on you and ran
riot behind your eyes, drowning the senses with delight.
The sheer relief of
seeing something solid was a blessing to the soul and a balm to the body. Dutch’s
first instinct was to reach out for the nearest bush and run the leaves between
her fingers, or kneel down and dig her hands into the lovely brown soil. And if
this wasn’t enough to lift the heart and heal the mind, one of the walls was
lined with diamond shaped windows. Without hesitation Dutch walked towards them
and stood staring out at the now familiar landscape of winding rivers and
overarching bone pillars running down the side of the green valley. She was
quite high up, so the slum city wasn’t immediately visible unless she looked
down. All this did much to propitiate Dutch’s bad mood and set her in a more
beautiful frame of mind. But the balance was fragile and Officer Angelo was
busy tipping the scales in the wrong direction.
Officer Angelo, wild
eyed and hollow cheeked was haranguing a poor Ahram woman who couldn’t
understand what he was talking about. He had nearly gone crazy through the days
and nights wondering where Rose was and had hollered himself hoarse to no
avail.
“They’ve done something
to her,” he said, expecting Dutch to sympathise and suggest something to help
alleviate his anxiety which was running rampant. But Dutch’s ability to care
was gone. She shrugged her shoulders and tried her best to hold onto her peace
of mind, but his whining and bleating was starting to get on her tits.
“Why won’t they let me
see her? Have you seen her?”
She waved him off like
an irritating little buzzy fly. She felt it impossible to drum up any sympathy
for him. He wasn’t worried about Rose; he was just feeling sorry for himself
because he was all on his lonesome now. What’s a boy to do without his
momma? What’s a boy to do without being
waited on hand and foot? ‘Leave Rose alone for god’s sake’ she thought. ‘She
just needs a break from you is what’s
wrong with her’.
She didn’t care much for
Rose at that moment either. Not that she had anything against her – she liked
her really, but Rose’s life was Rose’s life and she was interested in her own
for once.
There was more shuffling
behind her as Sweet Mary and her female guide entered. Officer Angelo
immediately headed for Sweet Mary and began pouring out his litany of woes into
her ear.
“Ah,” said Dutch,
unaware that she was speaking out loud. “Here she comes, right on cue. Miss I’m-too-good-for-you-now.
‘It was okay for us to be friends when I
was a whore….but I’m better than that now. I’ve changed’’,” she said,
mimicking Sweet Mary’s cutie-pie voice.
Sweet Mary and Officer
Angelo froze in their tracks. Slowly they turned to look back at Dutch as if
she was a fly in their soup.
“What you looking at,
Barbie doll? Why don’t you comfort the little cry baby there. Comfort the men
who treat you like shit, and just ignore me.”
Sweet Mary stood there
with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, too stunned to say
anything.
“Except of course when
you need me to carry and cajole and kiss you better. Ever since we met I’ve had
to hold your hand every step of the way, practically had to wipe your arse for
you. And what thanks do I get?”
The voices in her head had
switched themselves on now and it seemed there was no switching them off.
Sometimes Dutch was aware and appalled by what she was saying, other times she
simply revelled in the nastiness of it, wallowing in the words she was spitting
out. Her inner censor had broken down completely and her emotions were out of
her control.
Then Righteous and Noot entered
the room and redirected her attention.
“Uh,” she said. “Uh, oh,
The righteous one. Enter the Sage. We are all saved. God be praised. So tell us
all-seeing one….what have you to sooth for us today?” Dutch did a little curtsy
and bowed her head. “Anything? A little crumb of wisdom…advice? No? Nothing new
there then. And I see you have your trusted companion with you, Sancho Panza,
to point you in the right direction…. oops. Sorry. I forgot you might have feelings.”
Righteous showed no sign
of having heard her. He stood like a sentinel in the centre of the room, Noot’s
hand lying lightly on his arm. In fact everyone was standing pretty much like
statues, struck dumb to their roots. But Dutch wasn’t finished yet. Swivelling
on her heel she was just in time to catch the Seesh entering the room.
“Well lookee here. See
what the dog brought in, Mr I’m-just-a-lovable-old-man, doing my best for the munchkins.
So tell us Mr Wizard. Where is his Rose? Please give her back because this guy
is driving me nuts with his wailing and he’s just not going to shut up until he
sees her.”
The Seesh stood for a
moment and appraised the situation.
“I can understand that
you are upset…”
“Don’t give us that
crap. He wants to see his girlfriend. You know; the old broad with the neon streak
in her hair? Christ you’d think she’d have acquired a bit of dignity in her old
age. C’mon uncle,” said Dutch, and walked towards the Seesh in a no-nonsense
manner. “I am sick and tired of all this frittering about. No more talking
unless you want me to slap you around a bit. I’ve had a gutful of you buggers
and I’m just dying to get my hands on one of you lizard’s gizzards.”
Dutch stopped and stared
at the Seesh from a very dangerous edge about six inches away.
“Of course I will take
you to her,” he answered with cool aplomb.
“…was the correct answer.
Lead on McDuff. Jesus. It’s like squeezing blood out of a stone here. Come on
Blondie, keep up or do we have to carry you again.”
Sweet Mary’s face was
beginning to crumble now. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke.
“You don’t have to carry
me ever again,” she said and flounced after the Seesh.
Rose’s room was every
little girl’s dream, from the Sleeping-Beauty wallpaper to the squirrel and
woodland-animal motif eiderdown. A soft pile Mickey Mouse carpet stretched from
wall to wall and little wooden windows opened to let in the wonderful sounds of
birds and babbling brooks. There were cute little cupboards of different
colours, labelled ‘Toys’ and ‘Clothes’ and ‘Books’ and ever so much more. It
was in short a wonderland….and right in the middle of it was Rose, sitting on
the floor, legs folded neatly underneath her, her favourite doll upon her lap,
bone flute clutched to her chest. She looked just like a child, figuratively
and also literally. She looked tiny because the whole room was SO large. To Dutch
and the gang who stood in the giant doorway, it looked the way it would look to
a child. Everything was huge. The bed came up to chest height and the dressing
table as high as a mountain peak. The doll’s cradle looked like a full size
one.
Angelo immediately went
forward and found himself halted by an invisible barrier. Dutch watched him try
again but with the same result. Sweet Mary also tried but neither could cross
the threshold. No one could approach her.
Dutch turned her
suspicious eye on the Seesh.
“This just will not do
you know.”
“I had nothing to do
with this. She’s doing it herself,” said the Seesh quickly before Dutch could threaten
him. “She doesn’t want anyone to approach her. Not even me. I don’t know how
she is doing it. This room is of her own making and seemingly inviolate.”
“Rose,” called Angelo
with a touch a hysteria in his voice, but she gave no acknowledgment of hearing
him.
“Hoo boy, things are
going to get interesting around here,” said Dutch, cracking her knuckles. “How
come she can suddenly do something like this?” she said, looking hard at the Seesh.
“The bones have a lot of
energy. She has learned how to use it to her advantage.”
“And there’s no way you
can get to her?” asked Dutch, her lips locked in a grim smile.
“No.”
Dutch stared at the
Seesh for a long time, trying to weigh up whether he was telling the truth or
not. He seemed genuine but she had made it her motto never to trust a man. Suddenly
she burst out laughing. It was so sudden that everyone jumped. It wasn’t
sarcastic, facetious laughter, but real heartfelt humour that went on and on.
Everyone looked at her as if she had lost her mind completely.
“She got away!” she said. “She got away from
you,” and burst out laughing again. Sweet Mary and Angelo just looked confused.
“Rose has managed to
escape,” explained Dutch. “He has taken us
prisoner, but he can’t touch her. She managed to get away from him.” Dutch
wiped her eye with the back of her hand. “Oh that feels so much better. Seems
she’s spoilt your plans for you,” she said to the Seesh.
But the Seesh was no
longer paying her any attention. His eyes were riveted to Righteous Alchemy and
both stood staring at each other, unmoving and breathless, like two snakes
about to strike. Something was going down.
The ship slewed and
yawed as the storm broke all around. The rigging slapped in the wind and sang
as the sails filled and billowed out, bending the masts to their limit and
buffeting the ship against the angry sea. Waves crashed over the deck and all was
awash in the darkening chaos. Bare feet slapped the wet deck as the sailors ran
and clambered up into the rigging, clawing at the sails to try and spill the
wind that was threatening to capsize them. Of the three main masts, all the
mainsails and the mizzens were set and ready to rip themselves to bits at any
moment.
The storm had come out
of nowhere, catching the drunken pirate captain with his pants down and fast
asleep on his favourite whore. They had just cleared land west of the Amerigues
and were headed for the Interstellar Transporter Terminal in Katainya. The ‘Maria
Rosa’ was a pirate slaver cruising the coasts of the southern Atlantic Ocean
for slaves to work on the Terra-forming colonies in Messier 31. But because of
the massively long space flights to these colonies, some ten years in hyper
drive, there was a great demand for children, who would be in their prime by
the time they got there.
“Well, well. What have
we here?” boomed the voice of God from the heart of the thunderstorm as the ten
year old Righteous ran pell-mell into two tree-trunk legs that blocked his way.
The source of his
blackness stood right there in front of him. Righteous stood like blind Samson,
chained to two pillars, straining to push them over and bring this whole imaginary
charade tumbling down about his ears. But the pillars held. Again and again
Righteous strove to sweep aside the veil of blindness and peek beneath the
whitewash of reality that the Seesh was presenting to them; but without
success. He felt his body quivering with strain as if he’d just run a hundred
miles. Noot patted his arm and tried to calm him down but Righteous swept away this
irritation with his mind, keeping his concentration on the little old man. He
knew he was not who he pretended to be. He knew he was the key, but he did not
know how to turn him. The Seesh was playing hide and seek, and as Righteous
lunged to grab hold of him he found himself clutching a phantom. They were like
two shadows dodging each other in the abyss, the Seesh always one step ahead of
Righteous.
Dutch and the others
watched in fascination as the two stood locked in a silent deadly battle,
Righteous sweating from every pore and struggling for breath, the old man
leaning on his stick, calm and collected.
Nothing happened physically
and yet they could feel the battle raging just beneath the skin, a battle of
perception; a battle of minds which Righteous seemed to be slowly losing. Dutch
cast around for something that would help Righteous and once again her eyes
alighted on Rose, sitting so calmly and quietly with her doll on her lap…and
the penny dropped.
“It’s Rose,” she shouted
at Righteous. “It’s Rose,” came her cry again, hoping on hope that she could
penetrate Righteous’ consciousness. She had to get her message through to him.
“Rose is his Achilles
heel.”
Young Righteous tried to
dodge around the massive hairy legs of the captain blocking his way,
desperately clinging to a little rag-and-bone doll his mother had made for him.
He never quite knew if the doll was an effigy of himself designed to give him
protection from his father and other evils, or a voodoo-effigy of his father
which his mother had used to put an end to his useless life. The crudely carved
face gave him no clue, but he loved that doll and clung to it for dear life. It
was all he had to remind him of them. Then a watery wave hit him square in the
face and sent him skidding into the scuppers. More laughter from God and a
divine hand plucked him up and set him back on his feet.
He was a sturdy little
boy, well used to straddling the deck in all sorts of weather while his father
fished and drank and cursed his luck for having a son born blind as a bat.
“What have you got there
you little thief?” roared the captain in good humour. “Show me your little
treasure.”
Little Righteous clutched
frantically at the doll. He knew it was only a matter of moments before this
vindictive old reprobate would take it away from him. He also believed,
mistakenly or not, that then he would never be free of this man, for whoever
held the doll would hold his soul.
Without thinking he
flung the doll out over the side of the ship into the broiling darkness.
With a flick of his
wrist Righteous sent Rose and her room spinning off into the whirlwind of white
which immediately swallowed them up. Officer Angelo watched her go in dumb
horror and instinctively the Seesh reached out for Rose but she was already
beyond his grasp.
In that split second
Righteous stepped in between the pillars of illusion – and began bleeding his
blackness all over the nice white floors. He struck down to the root of the
bone structure, seeking to burn out the bane of his blindness. The Seesh
battled desperately to save his citadel and redress the balance, but Righteous
was rampantly ripping up his world by the handfuls and casting it into
nothingness. And then, as if in sympathy with his domain, the Seesh also started
to come apart at the seams. As they watched he began to waver and his mortal
frame began to age and sag. Soon his empty skin hung in wrinkled folds upon his
bent bones and he stooped almost to the ground. Righteous kept up the
relentless pressure and the humans almost began to feel sorry for the Seesh…….until
they saw a strange incandescence begin to burn from within the withered husk of
his body.
For a moment Dutch and
the gang doubted their eyes as the old man seemed to rise up again, younger and
more rejuvenated - that smile upon his face. His body began to glow with renewed
vigour as he grew bigger and higher; his body no longer flesh, but transmuted
into blazing light. He was still recognizably Ahram, but much more, much
greater, increasing in power and size until he stood towering many miles above
them: absolute, invincible, glowing like a divine being, as if he were the
original godhead archetype from the beginning of time, a mould of pure energy
on which all the other Ahram were fashioned and then brought to life.
The pirate was a jolly
old soul, and his laughter thundered from the mouth of the storm. He was jolly
especially at times like this when the world stood on its end, revelling in the
daring high-wire walk along the razors edge as his ship keeled over again and
dipped her main-top spars into the briny.
“Get those sails in you
devils or we’re done for,” he bellowed.
It wasn’t possible that something wouldn’t give way, and
everyone waited for that crack of wood that would signify a broken mast and a
quick trip down to Davey Jones’ locker with all sails still set.
“Enough of these games,”
said the pirate and picked up the little boy by the scruff of the neck with his
stainless steel hook.
The old Ahram man’s
walking stick was the final surprise for the stupefied humans as it transmuted
into a darkly flaming crozier whose looped bone circle seemed barely able to contain
the miniature black hole swimming malignly within its perimeter.
This was no ordinary crozier
like the Rider used.
This was a destroyer of
worlds.
This was Armageddon on a
stick, blazing with such intensity as if to rip apart the fabric of the cosmos
and churn everything into a maelstrom of primal particles. Its only drawback
was that it drew heavily on flesh and blood to fuel it. Through all this sizzling
energy they could just see the old Ahram man, his eyes burning black like his crozier,
as if he and it were one and the same, interchangeable, the one bleeding into
the other. His physical body was so used up, consumed, that it seemed to be
held upright and animated only by the power of the crozier, and begged the
question; who was the master of who?
In one simple swoop he
lifted Righteous up and pinned him against the stars, hanging him on an
invisible nail. Laughter rang through the hall, and Righteous began to dance. He
laughed and danced like a mad voodoo doll, jerking and jiving with obscene
gaiety until his bones rattled like stones in a bag.
And then for an encore the
Seesh opened up a wormhole at their feet.
