The
TWILIGHT OF THE GODS -- Chap. 8
A
story of Mantra and Black September
By
Aladdin and Christopher Leeson
Posted 10-07-2022
KING WARSTRIKE
He is happiest, be he king or peasant,
Who finds peace in his own home.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Tark ordered a pair of militiamen carry me into the armory. I was taken into a large room and deposited on a couch. As far as rooms went, the one I was in wasn’t all that shabby, though its furnishing looked well-used and very eclectic.
“King” Warstrike, trying to look regal and magnificent, studied me momentarily. "I would have given my soul for Mantra to come back,” he said, “but if your disguise is meant to mock me, beware, woman."
Still suffering from the mind-blast’s effects, I tried to focus better. "T-This is what I look like normally,” I said. “I’ve g-got a long story to tell you – sir. But I’d like to tell you first, before you let anybody else hear about it."
"Majesty," a guard spoke up, "don’t listen to her. She must be an assassin."
"I bet he says that to all the girls,” I said to Warstrike.
"You sound so much like Mantra it's uncanny," said the big man in Spandex.
“I’m ready to tell you why that is when you are.”
It looked like Warstrike wasn’t listening. In fact, he was giving out a thousand mile stare. I’d seen that look before.
Tark suddenly sharpened up again and glanced to the people around him. “I’ve just had a vision,” the king replied. “She means no one any harm."
"Are you so sure about that, my Handsome One?" some out of sight female.
I recognized that voice. What a time to be caught by her all tied up!
"Queen Necromantra," said Warstrike irritably. "Save the pet names for when we’re alone."
Queen Necromantra?
This setup just kept getting worse and worse!
The lackeys made way for the queen, so called, all except Warstrike himself, who she stepped around as if he were a stone pillar. My worst enemy now had her eyes fixed on me.
"Well, now," she said. You do really do make a convincing Mantra. Highness, why would anyone want to provoke you by dressing that way?"
"Help her stand up," said the king to his guardsmen and about a dozen clumsy hands groped at me. Boys will be boys.
"Who are you, really?" Warstrike asked.
I took a deep breath. "For that small question I have a big answer. We have some very sensitive information to discuss – Your Majesty," I added.
His arms crossed, he continued to regard me. This situation had a lot of potential for going south. So far, this version of Warstrike was coming off as a bad egg.
"This impostor certainly can’t be Mantra, so who is she?" Necromantra asked.
“His Majesty” was still looking squinted eyeballs at me.
"Follow me into the next room," he said. "The rest of you, remain in here with the queen."
What was he thinking about? If he thought I was an impostor, why would he be agreeing to a private audience? Had is change of attitude come out of the psychic vision he’d just had?
The ersatz monarch advanced through a doorway of heavy oak, allowing me to trail along on unsteady legs. That was kind of ungallant of him. Though I wasn’t at my peak, I had soundness of mind enough to keep the corner of my eye on Necromantra behind me. In all fairness, however, Thanasi hadn’t shown herself/himself to be a back-shooter – at least not yet.
"Shut the door behind you," Tark said.
I complied without taking my glance off him. I was ready to dodge or fight if need be.
With a mirthless grin, Warstrike said, "You move like Eden Blake, I'll give you that."
"That's easy to explain. I am Eden Blake – or the Lukasz edition of her. I really am Mantra, but I’m not the version of her that you're familiar with."
His stare became a glower. "What do you mean?"
"Can I sit down? That Neuronne really packs a wallop. Don’t get angry because this sounds silly, but the big secret is that I'm a visitor from an alternate dimension. The Brandon Tark I know from home was a fan of science fiction, so maybe you’ll have a grasp of what I’m talking about. Remember that old TV series, Sliders? The real universe is a lot like that"
“You’re serious?”
I shrugged. "As serious as I can be. I’m just doing what I always do. I'm on a mission to save the universe. Anything short of that and I’d rather be at home with the kids."
“Do you mean Evie and Gus?
“Yes I do.” I was afraid that he was going to say that they were dead in this would, but instead he went off in another direction.
"I can’t get over how even your intonation is the same as hers.”
“Well, yeah, your Mantra and I probably have a lot in common.
“Give me the whole story,” he said. “I’ll either end up believing you or killing you.” Then he added, “I hope it’s the former.”
#
So I gave him my spiel, the Cliff Notes version of the whole strange multiverse story. “Any questions?” I asked.
“How do you like our city?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s a mess. Gabriel said that that it got this way because of a volcano. Is that right?”
He blinked. “Do you have to ask? Didn’t Yellowstone go up on your world, too?”
“No, it didn’t.” I said. “I take it that you’re saying that the Yellowstone super volcano finally blew its cork and wrecked Los Angeles?”
“It sure did, and the rest of the world along with it. But that’s only a small part of what we’re up against here.”
That was certainly true, even without him knowing about Doomsday being just a day away.
“You’re king here,” I said. “Congratulations. Does that meant that the USA doesn’t have a central government anymore?”
“The US? Definitely not. We don’t know a lot about the rest of the world, not much more about the rest of the country, but everything we hear from outside is bad.”
“Was there any warning of the blow beforehand?”
“No. And it wasn’t a natural eruption. The Deep State pulled off an insurrection and took over the federal government. They went absolutely crazy making the changes they wanted. It must have been a lot like living in Nazi Germany with real lunatics in charge. The people as a whole kept getting angrier angrier and when the Cabal realized that power was slipping through their fingers, they decided to kill everyone on this continent and seize some piece of land abroad to rule instead.”
I wondered if he was talking about the same Deep State that we had at home. “Who were the bad guys?”
“Billionaires, trillionaires, the international banks – along with the FBI, who helped them along every step of the way. And the whole shebang was in league with China. It was the CCP that gave them the nuke they needed to make Yellowstone blow its cork."
“What happened then?”
“Look around you. That’s what happened.”
“How have things been going since then?”
“They’ve been going from bad to worse. I’ve been trying my best to keep our head above water – or volcanic ash, if you prefer -- but the people just won’t pull together. About half of our remaining survivors have gone into revolt.”
“How many Americans survived away from here?”
“I can’t say. Anyone who breathes in volcanic ash is going go die. Almost every food crop fails because of the volcanic winter. Starvation is everywhere, except where the population has already died off. From what we’ve found out, the Southern Hemisphere is a little better off, but things down there aren’t good either. Most of our local survivors tried to go south, but they found out that illegal immigration only works one way. I don’t think many refugees survived the cordons of armed gangs and troops.”
“Yeeck! That sounds grim.”
"It's been the survival of the fittest ever since the eruption, and the ultras have proved out to be the fittest. No surprise there. But people have broken under the pressure. There’s been so little cooperation. About half of the ultras over gone over to the rebel side. In fact, the clique of ultras is leading it.”
“What are people rebelling for?”
“I don’t think they’ve thought very far past the idea of getting rid of me and my people. When they finally have to do something productive, they’re probably end up turning against each other.”
“When did the volcano blow?” I asked.
“About nine years ago. But that’s not even the craziest thing that’s hit us.”
“What what can be worse?”
“Every star in the sky has gone out, except our own Sol.”
At any other time I would have done a double-take. But I knew from Gabriel that the Time Gem was only able to protect a limited area. Everything beyond that limit would have been hit by the Nemesis Energy – and meant being banished into nothingness.
“Whatever’s caused it, we can’t do anything about a fix. Just fighting for our lives here on the ground is taking all our attention.”
I didn’t want to make him flip out by telling him what I knew, so I changed the subject. “Your people kept calling me an impostor. That makes me wonder. Is the Mantra who should be living here…dead?”
He looked away. “Yes. Since about five years ago.”
“The rebels killed her?”
“No. Back then we were regularly being hit by armed bands roaming around the hinterland looking for plunder – for things like food and clean water. Most were just half-crazy bums and easy to kill, but a few gangs were led by a hard-core military deserters that had some heavy weapons and the know-how to use them. The day came when Prime and Mantra took our main defense force out to drive off the latest attack. According to survivors, the raiders had some surprises ready for them. Mantra, Prime, and some of our best didn’t get back.”
“And when did Necromantra show up?” I asked pointedly.
“It was a few weeks after Mantra died.”
“That doesn’t smell right, Brandon. I wouldn’t be surprised she’d been the leader of those raiders all along and used her death-magic to wipe out your people. You know how much she hated Mantra!
He nodded. "Some of our people thought the same thing. If even one scrap of legitimate proof had come up, I would have killed her myself.”
“I’m only surprised she didn’t kill you long ago and take over. I’m even more surprised that you actually married her! How can you sleep easy with a psycho like that around?”
"It’s hard to explain. Things got unstable after Mantra died. I needed a heavy hitter on my team and so she and I cut a deal. Anyway, none of us are the same people that we used to be – not even Necromantra.”
“The only way she could ever change would be if she got worse.”
“I’ve got no illusions about Marinna, but she’s damned smart and knows that can’t take on everyone else at the same time. She supports my faction to keep herself safe. Without me, even my loyalists would turn on her. Also, if she eliminates all her enemies, she’ll be standing in a dead city all alone. Marinna's the type who likes to grandstand for an audience, and she needs people around for that purpose.”
“How did you end up marrying her, for Pete’s sake? Didn’t your version of Mantra didn’t tell you what kind of creature she really is?”
“Oh sure, you – Mantra – told me,” Warstrike replied. “But after you and I got married and made it work, Necromantra’s weirdness didn’t seem so huge anymore.”
“What? Mantra and you got married?”
“Why are you surprised? Didn’t you and your version of Brandon get married, too?”
“No! But I think this world of yours exists about ten years in my future. Back home, Evie is only seven years old and Gus is eleven.”
His face changed. “Hell! Are you able to time-travel?”
“Not me, but I have a friend who has the super-tech he needs to let us break the time barrier.”
“That’s something I’d like to see.”
“Well, be nice to me and everything can be on the table.”
Anyway,” he continued, “up until Eden died, us L.A. survivors managed to pull together. Mantra had a way of getting people to work together better than I ever could. But when I was forced to substitute Necromantra, the people got more divided.”
I felt sorry for everybody, but I was holding back the secret knowledge that this universe was going to be terminating in less than twenty-hours and there would be no fixing that. I didn’t dare get tangled up in a catastrophe of this magnitude. My job was an entirely different one and if Warstrike could be brought around to help me pull it off, great. If he became part of the problem, I would have to do something drastic. In short, I would have to behave like the old Lukasz would behave when his back was against the wall.
“Brandon,” I asked, “what happened to Gus and Evie?”
“They’re well."
That was a load off my mind. “That’s great!” I said. But something warned me not to ask more about them. I had to carry out Gabriel’s plan, not get involved with local problems. In just one day, all those problems would be at an end anyhow – end in the most terrible way.
I needed another change of subject. “This place is an armed camp,” I said. “What, exactly, is the cause of this civil war? It’s got to be more than just Necromantra acting like her obnoxiousness self"
“It is. For one thing, trying to govern ultras is like trying to herd cats. Early on, we tried to get along by doing things in the Greek democracy way, but it didn't work. Nobody was really in their right minds anymore. There were too many factions. One faction decided to build a coalition by uniting a lot of the groups against me. In retaliation, my side dropped the idea of acting like George Washington and started ruling like Caesar. That starting a shooting war. Everybody got involved in it and the killing was unbelievable. That created a lot of hatred.”
“Was all this shooting Necromantra’s idea?”
“No, Mantra was still alive and she stood behind me. Would you have done anything different?”
That was a loaded question. Would he blow up like many another absolute dictator had done in the past if he heard something he didn’t want to?
Not wanting to get onto the king's enemies list, I said, “I don’t know. Maybe if I’d lived through everything that she experienced I would have done the same thing. But I’m an outsider here and I don't want to get involved in any of this business. But can you explain to me why all the your people whom I’ve met so far are ex-villains? At least I hope they’re ex-villains."
The big man grimaced. “I wish it could be different, but I've had to accept the support that I find. Does it surprise you that selfish people tend to be the easiest sort to work with? You know, thieves hang together. It’s the idealistic types that go bonkers first. They keep insisting that things have to be done just the way they used to be done, but those ideas just don’t work anymore. Wasn't that was what the old Roman Civil War was all about, too? Caesar realized that he was killing his friends and old allies, but he couldn’t stop to think about that. All he knew was that those who were standing in the way of the goal had to be brushed aside."
"What exactly is your goal here?”
“The key to survival has always been producing enough food to feed everyone.”
Well, at least that objective didn’t sound too crazy. “Are you offering to feed even your enemies?”
He drew a hiss of air between his teeth. “That’s a tricky question. For a long time there isn't going to be enough food to go around. We have no choice but to reward only the ones who are falling in with the over-all plan.”
Oh, great! The other side was starving to death! No wonder this dispute was being seen as a war to the knife by them. “How is the plan working out?”
“Not well. But here’s the deal; the opposition has made me the Big Bad and they refuse do anything to cooperate.”
I was feeling a chill. Back in early January, the Tark of my world had had a sudden vision that had driven him half out of his mind. He had seen a world just like this one, even to the detail of seeing himself as the king of a ruined city. Had he been in psychic contact with this same world here, or was he instead seeing into his own future on my world? Did that mean that what happened in this universe was fated to happen in my own universe world, too? Gabriel had pooh-poohed that idea, but I wasn't so sure
That was another major reason that I had to go back home and make sure it this didn't happen there. Damn that Deep State! I felt like killing everyone of those degenerate psychotics with my own two hands!
As for this city, the hate here was so strong that I couldn't imagine any way to straighten it out. All I had to go on was my memory of the Brandon Tark of my world. And, to be honest, I’d never thought of Brandon Tark as an especially good leader. He had courage and ability, and he had the smarts to make himself a billionaire. But he’d done that by means of his precognitive powers, knowing in advance what stock trades and asset purchases to make.
In his twenties, he’d been a special service soldier, and a good one, but his personality had always grated on his superiors and he hadn’t risen above a junior officer’s grade. I also knew him personally as a good friend, but I had seen what a rambunctious loose canon he could be, and that would drive me crazy.
But what did I know? Maybe in a crazy situation you needed to act like a crazy man. From my POV, this Tark had made some very big mistakes. Taking power by means of an armed coup has never been the best way to make friends and influence people. I was especially disappointed that this world's Mantra had ended up going in with the Caesar idea, too. I could only suppose that the horror of this place had changed her like it had changed everyone else.
After all, she’d agreed to become Mrs. Brandon Tark, hadn't she?
“Would you like to see Gus and Evie?" Brandon suddenly asked.
I swallowed hard. “I won’t be able to stay long here. In fact, I can’t remain for very long at all. Do you really want to introduce the kids to someone whom they’ll think of as their mother, only to have her leave them again so soon? And seeing them suffering in this sad place is going to slam me just as hard, and I can’t afford that. I have to stay focused on my mission. And if I haven’t already made it clear, that mission is aimed at keeping every alternate dimension from being annihilated, including my own home universe.”
He sighed. “What you told me sounded nuts, but what do I know? Do what you have to do, Eden. But I think that meeting you would be the best thing for the Blake kids. They never had a chance to say goodbye to their mom before she died in battle. They never got the closure they needed."
Even if I agreed with what he was saying, it would all be pointless. No matter how deep the woe of everyone on this planet, everyone's problems would be over very soon. But that was one piece of information that I didn’t want to share -- not unless the success of my mission absolutely depended on my spilling the beans.
Tark’s expression suddenly changed. “Hey, I was just thinking. If you never married your own version of me in your home timeline, does that mean that Jamie was never born?”
I looked askance. “I don’t follow. On my world, Jamie was your daughter by your first wife. She was killed by gangsters making a hit on you. I hope that didn’t happen on this world, too?”
He winced and I was very sorry. I’d torn open an old wound.
“Ohhhh, yes, that happened,” he sighed, “but when our Jamie was born, it was you who suggested giving her the name of the child that I’d loved and lost.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you saying that Mantra and you had a daughter?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I like I said, that must not have happened yet in your reality.”
“It sure as hell hasn’t happened!” I said.
I couldn't get that idea out of my mind. Eden and Brandon had had a daughter!
Oh, brother!
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 9
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