Chung Kuo - The Marriage Of The Living Dark Part 50

"But now?"

"Now history's ending. There'll be no need for guns any more."

"No..." She glanced at Daniel, conscious of how he looked at her, then asked:

"Did you never think of trying to kill

DeVore?" "Oh, I thought about it But the problem was getting close enough to do it" She nodded, then shivered. It was cold down here in the target rooms. "Do you mind if we leave here, Daniel?"

"No. No, I..." He stopped, awkward suddenly.

"What?"

He shrugged. "No. Forget it..." "No. What is it? Tell me. Please." "If s just that I..." He looked away, his awkwardness now painfully obvious. "Oh," she said, realising at last "And there was I thinking you were interested in my work." She laughed. "I guess I ought to be flattered. I mean, I'm years older than you, Daniel and.,."

"It doesn't matter."

"No?" Then, "No, I guess it doesn't."

"And I am interested. In fad, I read one of your books..." She blinked. They had been talking all morning and this was the first time he had mentioned it "I don't see... I mean, if s history. What has that to do with this?"

"You're there," he said, staring at her now. "You're everywhere, in every line, like a great calm presence behind it all."

"And you fell in love with that!"

Daniel nodded. There was a momenf s awkward silence between them, then Hannah spoke again.

"So what now?"

"We could go to my room ..."

Her laughter shocked him. Seeing that she relented. Reaching out, she gently took his hands. "I'm sorry, Daniel, I forgot. I guess you didn't have much time for subtlety in the camps."

But he was blushing now, ashamed of his directness.

"Besides," she went on, "maybe you're right Maybe if s best to be this open.

After all, we've not much time left, have we?"

He looked up at her, hopeful. 'Then you feel the same?" She smiled. "No ... No, I don't think I do. But I like you, Daniel. So let that be enough."

Just ahead of them the trees thinned out and the river that ran to their right twisted across their path, following the towering wall of rock that lay just beyond. Some fifty metres on, an old stone bridge crossed the deep gorge. A barrier had been pulled across the far end of the bridge. Behind it stood two men, rebels by their mountain attire, laser rifles slung over their shoulders. Deep within the wood, Emtu and Da-neel crouched, peering through their long-sight lenses at the rebel patrol. Nearby, the corpse of Lin Lao stood among the trees, his unblinking eyes staring towards the north.

'It's Lin Pel," Emtu whispered, gesturing towards the figure who was coming down the path to join the two men at the barrier.

"Perfect," Da-neel answered.

"What do you mean? If s Lin Pei."

"Exactly. So we use that Watch."

He scuttled across until he stood directly behind Lin Lao. "Okay, Lin Lao," he whispered, "this is what you do ..."

Lin Pei blew into his cupped hands then straightened, looking toward the wood, suddenly alert.

Beside him, his two men had also turned and had taken their guns from their shoulders. There was a double click and then a hum as the guns warmed up. Lin Pei drew his hand gun. He took a step towards the barrier then stopped, relief flooding him.

"Lin Lao!"

As Lao emerged from the trees, Pei frowned, noting at once how awkwardly his brother moved. He gestured for the barrier to be pulled aside, then hurried out onto the bridge.

Lao looked bad, as if he'd suffered some deep, penetrating wound that he was trying not to antagonise.

"Lin Lao?"

Pei hurried across, holding Lao's arms and staring into his face. Lao's face was strange, the muscles slack. He was pale and drawn, as if he'd lost a lot of blood. But it was his eyes that caught Pei's attention. They seemed in torment "Are you hurt, Lao?"

Lao groaned. It was a tiny sound, almost inaudible, yet so filled with pain that Lin Pei gripped him, certain now that he'd sustained some awful injury. Yet there was no outward sign of any hurt "What happened, Lao? Where are your men?" Lao's mouth opened. There was a haaah.

A nothing sound.

The flesh inside Lao's mouth was dark, black almost Certain now, Pei turned, looking to his men. "Quick! Help me, now!"

Yet even as he turned back, Lao's legs gave and he fell. "Lin Lao!"

Three shots rang out As their echo faded, Emtu stood. Slipping her rifle back over her shoulder, she began to dust herself down, brushing leaf mould from her knees.

"That was good shooting, Da-neel."

He smiled, then stood, his attention still focused on the fallen figures fifty metres off. "You didn't do badly yourself."

They walked across.

Lin Pei lay on his back, his arms splayed out, one leg buckled under him. The bullet had gone straight through his forehead, leaving a neat entry hole, but his brains had been spattered all over the earth path behind him. Ten metres further on lay the second man, slumped against the side of the bridge, his skull half shot away. Beyond him lay the third of them, on his face, a trail of blood dribbling down from his shattered head, pooling on the cracked stone of the bridge.

Emtu watched as Da-neel checked the first two bodies, then, pausing over the last of them, placed his handgun to the back of the man's head. She felt the detonation in her blood. Deep down in her groin.

As Da-neel straightened up, she grinned.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

She walked over to him, then reached down, covering his swollen crotch with her hand. "This."

"You noticed?"

Pushing her face against his, she kissed him, her hunger unmistakable. Breaking from that kiss, he shivered, surprised by her. "Here?" "Right here."

He stared at her a moment longer, the hunger in her eyes matched by his own, then pushed her down, his hands tearing at her clothes.

Lin Lao lay there, motionless, facing his dead brother, his eyes locked on his brother's face, trapped by that dark and tiny hole in the pale expanse of the forehead.

The sight burned him; seared him to the depths of his soul. Wretched he was; in h.e.l.l as living memory flooded back to him. Pei, who had nursed him through sickness. Pei, who had loved him and looked after him. Pei, who'd made his heart swell with pride. His big brother, Pei.

A muscle in the dead man's face trembled, then lay still. Slowly a tear trickled down his cheek. Quietly, the dead man cried.

DeVore speared a radish with his fork and popped it into his mouth, then set the plate aside, his eyes never once leaving the screen.

Emtu's face was flushed now, her lips drawn back in an animal rictus as Da-neel f.u.c.ked her. She was close now. Very close.

"s.h.i.t!"

Unzipping his fly, he raised his b.u.t.tocks, easing his trousers down over his hips, then gestured impatiently to one of the serving boys who stood nearby. "Boy! See to me at once!"

As Emtu's face began to contort, he felt the boys mouth close over the tip of his p.e.n.i.s. Grasping the back of the boy's head, he pulled him closer and began to thrust The boy gagged and tried to pull away, but DeVore merely gripped him tighter, ignoring his discomfort, pushing up into him, harder and harder, as if to poke his way out through the back of his head.

Emtu's face was wracked in agony now, and as she came, so did he, his groin grinding into the boy's face, like a broken bottle gouging out an eye. With a gasp, he pulled back, letting the boy fall from him. The boy lay there, choking, his face tinged blue, his bruised and bloodied mouth gasping for each breath, his chest heaving.

But no one saw. All eyes were carefully averted. No one dared see.A great shudder pa.s.sed through DeVore. He stood then, tugging up his pants, began to zip himself up once more.

"Yes," he said, a low chuckle escaping him. "Yes, indeed, my lovelies. You make a fine couple. Maybe I'll let you live after all, boy. Maybe I'll even let you keep her. But first you get me the real Emily Ascher, you understand? First you do that."

Da-neel pulled up his trousers, then turned, looking back at the woods with narrowed eyes.

"Get up!" he hissed. "Come on. Lef s go."

Emtu sat up, frowning at him. "What is it?"

"Look!"

Da-neel pointed. There, among the trees, where before there had been nothing but gra.s.s and shrub, was now a host of flowers. Lilies. Gleaming, ghost-white lilies.

"G.o.ds!"

She hastened up, fastening her clothes with fumbling fingers, while Da-neel got hold of Lin Lao by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. "Okay," he said, turning to look at her. "Are you ready?" She nodded, but her eyes were looking past him at the whiteness that now lay beneath the distant branches.

"Do you think if s dangerous?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm not staying to find out If our friend Lao is right, we're less than a kilometre from their base camp. Even with this zombie we can make it in an hour."

Lin Lao made a noise. Haaah, he said.

"Gas," Emtu suggested, answering Da-neel's unspoken query. "The little f.u.c.ker's decomposing."

Da-neel laughed, dispelling the tension that had fallen on them. "That"s all right, then. Just so long as he doesn't start falling apart before we get there."

It came down from tfie heights, tike snow, covering the verdant slopes. Only this snow did not fall, it walked.

With a faint rustiing, a sound not unlike that of the wind blowing through the branches of the trees, the great host of lilies entered the ruined village, spreading in a slow avalanche between the crumbling walls and along the weed-strewn paths, until there was nothing but ancient brickwork poking from a great sea of white.

There was a brief moment of perfect slMness and then the whiteness shimmered. Drawing memories from the stones, the floraforms began to change, to trans.m.u.te themselves into roofs and doors and windows, until the ruin was no longer a ruin but a perfect replica of the place it had once been, two centuries before.

In the old graveyard dark earth heaved as its pale, lithe roots delved with an unsuspected strength among the caskets, unearthing bone and rotted doth. For a moment it was a charnel scene, a scene of chaotic disinterment, and then those bones stood tall and straight, sprouting leaves and buds. Strange trees that resembled men.

They trembled and in an instant flowered, a season pa.s.sing in the blink of an eye. Ancient codes were read and replicated.

Petals fett away, leaving the bare branches of human limbs. Men and women who had not drawn breath for two centuries and more now stood upon the surface of the earth, their pallid flesh tinged green, their eyes the unbroken white of lilies.

There was a sigh, an almost silent exhalation from that newly-resurrected host, as they turned to view the transformed landscape. The ancient village was embedded in a great ocean of white that had no end but filled the land from horizon to horizon; valley and slope, gorge and peak, lush meadow and barren rock face.

For a moment they dreamed an ancient, human dream. A time-locked dream of summers long ago.

But it was a new age, a new time. The beginning of a time without time. And as they turned and went into their houses, so they turned their backs upon that human past. The last vestiges of human memory - of ancient, coded instinct - slipped from them as the DMA within them was transformed, becoming something other.

Something greater.

There was silence, an utter, perfect stillness, and then the lilies in the graveyard shimmered, as if a flame had pa.s.sed across them. Some glowed with a vivid brightness, while others withered, a strange darkness consuming them. For the briefest instant they formed the image of a face; a perfect, almost photographic image. Daniel's face.

Again the lilies shimmered, and then, like the ripple of the wind pa.s.sing across a cornfield, the petals fett, transforming as they fett into a mist that lingered briefly and was gone, leaving the dead ground green.

The feel of him laying there naked in her arms in the darkness was unreal, dreamlike. She had had lovers before, of course, but none so young, nor half so gentle. Besides, those other men had not stayed long - not when they'd discovered that her first love was for the truth of history and not themselves. But now there was Daniel.

She brought her hand up and gently brushed his cheek, laying her ringers softly against his forehead, smiling to herself.

So surprising; to find a lover, here at the end of the world. Here, where she'd thought at best to find companionship in these final days. Daniel stirred. "Hannah?"

Her fingers ceased their soothing motioa 'Tes, my love"

"That part in your book about historical cycles and recurrence. What did you mean by that?"

She laughed. Had ever any of her lovers asked her such a question? No. At best it was "Was I good?" or "Can I see you again?" Never such interest in her work, her essential self.

"Just that there are recognisable patterns in history, and sometimes - just sometimes - it is as if all past history had not happened, and men were doomed to live through the same events again."