Expedition Westward by Brian Bakos
16. Night of the Visionists
A fearsome man stood in the doorway aiming an assault rifle at them. Other humans crowded behind him peering into the workshop, including a number of bedraggled women. All of them were clad in shapeless overalls or other nondescript clothing.
“Stay right where you are, demon spawn!” the man ordered.
The robots froze in place.
My gosh, Winston thought, we’ve stumbled into an insane asylum!
The man confronting them was tall and gaunt, with a fringe of gray hair circling his bald head. Beard stubble covered his face, and his eyes held a burning, malevolent intensity. In some ways, he appeared to a be psychotic doppelganger of Dr. Rackenfauz.
Several of the men hefted guns – and a single woman, too. She looked to be about 40, though her fierce demeanor made her seem older than that. She was tall and angular, her eyes smoldered with furious hatred. Frizzy red hair, mixed with gray, surrounded her skull.
Medusa was the first moniker that popped into Winston’s head, followed immediately by, Bride of Frankenstein.
“Uh ... whom do we have the honor of addressing?” Winston asked.
A flicker of surprise crossed the bald man’s face. He glanced back at his companions.
“This one has an education,” he said. “A real diplomat!”
“Thank you,” Winston said.
Some of the humans laughed, if their shrill, grating twitters could be considered laughter. Others just looked on, wide-eyed and fearful.
They’re more scared of that guy than I am, Winston thought.
He took advantage of the momentarily relaxed vigilance to step in front of Star.
“Not that it matters what your sort knows or doesn’t know,” the man said, “but I am chief acolyte of the Holy Temple of the Transcendent Vision.”
A bolt of terror shot through Winston’s circuits, though he did his best to conceal it.
“Pleased to meet you, your Acolyte-ship,” he said with a deferential bow. “We are – ”
“Can we blast them now, Chief Acolyte?” the Medusa woman asked.
The chief acolyte turned toward her. If she was the bride of Frankenstein, then he certainly qualified as best man in the wedding party.
“As soon as Farther gives us the go-head,” he said, “not before.”
“Crap!” the woman said.
“Patience, Sister Reedy,” the chief acolyte said. “I’ll request that you be granted first pick when the time comes.”
“Good,” Sister Reedy said, gesturing toward Star. “I want the bitch.”
Winston tried to spread himself out more in front of Star. “Now, just a moment – ”
Awoooo! Iridium howled
He charged the humans, fangs bared. They all shrank back, except for the chief acolyte and Sister Reedy who contemptuously stood their ground. Just short of reaching them, Iridium froze in place, unable to overcome his programming against attacking humans.
yip ... yip ... he whined.
The chief acolyte and Sister Reedy laughed derisively. The others, overcoming their terror, also began laughing.
“This one should make a nice carpet,” Sister Reedy said.
She smacked Iridium hard with her rifle butt. The great canine tumbled away like a discarded toy. Fang and Ripper trailed after him, whimpering.
“Stop that, you bully!” Star cried.
Sister Reedy threw a murderous look Star’s direction. Her finger twitched on the firing mechanism of her assault rifle.
Iridium scrambled up, dashed to the window and began howling. His powerful voice echoed off the surrounding cliffs like the crack of doom. Hundreds of mech birds exited the tower and swooped down en masse. Iri motioned to them frantically.
“He’s summoning the demons!” one of the men cried.
The birds flooded in through the window with a deafening cacophony of chirps and tweets. They swirled around ominously in a dark, terrifying whirlpool. Then they began to meld into a threatening human-shaped composite creature towering toward the ceiling.
All the humans, except for the chief acolyte and Sister Reedy, gasped with fear.
“Where’s Father?” they cried. “Save us! ... It’s the devil incarnate!”
“Not quite,” the chief acolyte sneered.
He strolled boldly toward the bird creature, unfazed by its terrifying appearance. He stopped before it and craned his neck to see the monstrosity’s uppermost region near the ceiling. Sister Reedy trailed after him.
“That’s some trick,” the chief acolyte said. “Now get out.”
The bird creature quivered uncertainly.
“Get out!” Sister Reedy shrieked.
The creature began to waver and tilt, like a great tower on the verge of collapse. Then it abruptly disintegrated. Hundreds of mech birds scattered through the window like frightened chickens. The humans let out a savage cheer.
The chief acolyte turned back toward the others, a grin of cruel triumph slashing across his face like a knife wound. There were about at least forty of them now inside the workshop or gathered in the hallway. Some looked fanatical and overflowing with hatred, like himself. Most of them were just frightened and cowed.
“And to think how many of you feared these winged things when the old man was here,” the chief acolyte said.
He laughed disdainfully, the others joined in. Many seemed to be reacting on cue – as if they were afraid not to laugh.
“Didn’t Father tell you that the threat would pass?” Sister Reedy said. “You of little faith!”
The laughter abruptly stopped. Fear crept back into many faces. Clearly, Sister Reedy was a power to be reckoned with in this bizarre group.
The chief acolyte turned to one of the armed men. “Brother George!”
A short, chubby man stepped out of the crowd and snapped to attention.
“Yes, Chief Acolyte!”
“Notify Father that we have ‘visitors.’”
“As ordered, Chief Acolyte!”
Brother George trotted off down the hallway.
Utter silence descended upon the room like a burial shroud.
I’m beginning to feel distinctly unwelcome, Winston thought.
17. Enter the Savior
Robots and humans regarded each other across the workshop with black suspicion. Fingers twitched on gun triggers, hatred and fear polluted the air like a new round of plague. At any instant, lethal violence could break out. Only the tender mercies of the chief acolyte kept things in check – for the time being.
Ohhh, this is all my fault! Star thought. It was my big idea to come here.
How did we get into this jam? Winston marveled.
Why’d we ever leave Mech City? Iri groaned.
Then, as if drawn by some irresistible force, heads began turning until all eyes were fixated on the doorway. Winston kept himself between it and Star, trying to shield her from whomever might arrive.
Iri nestled up against her and received a head stroke in return.
“I’m sorry, Star,” he said in a low voice. “It was the best I could do.”
“Hush, now, Iri,” Star said. “It’s not your fault.”
Another minute dragged past. The tension became almost unbearable, then ...
Father, a.k.a. ‘The Messiah,’ appeared at the doorway.
He was 28 years old now, but still recognizable from the boy who had founded the Visionist cult. His long, dark hair drooped to his shoulders, scraggly beard covered his face. Over his filthy clothes he sported the same, now undersized, ceremonial robe he’d worn from the first days of his mission.
A feverish eye, surrounded by crimson mist, glowered from the front of this robe toward anyone who dared to behold it.
Winston had seen that eye before, painted on the wall of that room at the REX Hotel – the room with the huge stain on the floor. Jimmy had replaced that whole section of flooring and sand-blasted the eye off the wall, but Winston had never wanted to enter that place again.
/> The messiah’s penetrating gaze swept over the workshop. His expression was severe, gaunt, aesthetic – as of someone who’d wearied of life. His eyes betrayed a suffocating and cynical boredom.
He’s been in a deep funk for a long time, Winston observed.
Winston had seen such looks before, from his days as research assistant to Dr. Horvath, on the faces of other would be holy men. Heck, he’d worn a similar expression himself during the days of his political exile in Mech City – a time when the world had seemed empty and hopeless, when he’d believed himself to be a total phony.
This guy’s a fraud and knows it, Winston thought. He just doesn’t want anybody else to know.
Dr, Horvath would have applauded this insight, but how could it possibly help them now? Phony or not, this messiah had plenty of guns at his disposal. One burst from an assault rifle could settle all matters instantaneously.
The messiah’s followers made way for him, bowing their heads in deepest reverence or just plain fear. As he passed, they raised their heads again. Their expressions varied from ecstatic worship, to awe, to naked terror. Some of the women displayed urgent, hysterical expressions as if they were groupies near a rock star.
An eerie, flickering glow – like nothing Winston had ever observed before – appeared in Sister Reedy’s eyes. It seemed as if some demonic power lurked behind them just aching to leap out.
The messiah strolled past Iridium and the mech wolves, eying them contemptuously. Winston stepped forward and bowed.
“Greetings, your leadership,” he said.
The messiah dismissed Winston’s overture with a mocking sneer. He continued on to Star and paused ... His burning eyes fixated on her face, then roved all over her body.
“Well, fucking A,” he murmured, “here’s something new.”
A wicked little smile played across his face. It was strained, as if he had not smiled in a long time. His back was turned to his followers, so they could not observe his blatant lust. Star perceived it, though. She looked back at him, bold and calculating. She placed her hands on hips so as to display her breasts to maximum effect.
Winston dropped his diplomatic propriety.
“Keep away from her, or – ”
He tried to reach out, but his arm was frozen. The messiah turned on him contemptuously.
“Or what, demon spawn?” he said.
“Let us destroy these abominations, Father,” Sister Reedy said from across the room. “They pollute our holy sanctuary.”
Other cultists roared agreement. Everyone looked expectantly toward their leader. The messiah turned slowly toward them, milking the situation for dramatic effect. He opened his mouth to speak.
“I decree that – ”
Star rushed to the window and leaped onto the sill.
“If you hurt anyone, I’ll jump.”
“Star, no!” Winston cried.
He tried to intervene, but two cultists dragged him off.
The messiah gaped at Star like a kid about to lose his favorite toy. Helpless bafflement shot across his face, and his cloak of infallibility began to sag. He recovered quickly, though.
He turned back to his followers with an amused little smile. “Take them to the detention room,” he said. “I shall interrogate them later.”
Cultists manhandled Winston, Iri, and the mech wolves out the door. Star climbed down from the window sill as two men approached to drag her away.
“That won’t be necessary.” The messiah waved the men off. “This one won’t cause any more trouble.”
Oh yeah? Star thought. Don’t count on that, Big Boy.
The men looked rather nonplused, but did as they were told, leaving Star and the messiah alone on the workshop periphery. Star eyed him with frank appraisal for a moment; then she walked toward the door, hips swaying and head high.
Sister Reedy’s eyes followed her out, projecting a beam of pure hatred.
A fearsome man stood in the doorway aiming an assault rifle at them. Other humans crowded behind him peering into the workshop, including a number of bedraggled women. All of them were clad in shapeless overalls or other nondescript clothing.
“Stay right where you are, demon spawn!” the man ordered.
The robots froze in place.
My gosh, Winston thought, we’ve stumbled into an insane asylum!
The man confronting them was tall and gaunt, with a fringe of gray hair circling his bald head. Beard stubble covered his face, and his eyes held a burning, malevolent intensity. In some ways, he appeared to a be psychotic doppelganger of Dr. Rackenfauz.
Several of the men hefted guns – and a single woman, too. She looked to be about 40, though her fierce demeanor made her seem older than that. She was tall and angular, her eyes smoldered with furious hatred. Frizzy red hair, mixed with gray, surrounded her skull.
Medusa was the first moniker that popped into Winston’s head, followed immediately by, Bride of Frankenstein.
“Uh ... whom do we have the honor of addressing?” Winston asked.
A flicker of surprise crossed the bald man’s face. He glanced back at his companions.
“This one has an education,” he said. “A real diplomat!”
“Thank you,” Winston said.
Some of the humans laughed, if their shrill, grating twitters could be considered laughter. Others just looked on, wide-eyed and fearful.
They’re more scared of that guy than I am, Winston thought.
He took advantage of the momentarily relaxed vigilance to step in front of Star.
“Not that it matters what your sort knows or doesn’t know,” the man said, “but I am chief acolyte of the Holy Temple of the Transcendent Vision.”
A bolt of terror shot through Winston’s circuits, though he did his best to conceal it.
“Pleased to meet you, your Acolyte-ship,” he said with a deferential bow. “We are – ”
“Can we blast them now, Chief Acolyte?” the Medusa woman asked.
The chief acolyte turned toward her. If she was the bride of Frankenstein, then he certainly qualified as best man in the wedding party.
“As soon as Farther gives us the go-head,” he said, “not before.”
“Crap!” the woman said.
“Patience, Sister Reedy,” the chief acolyte said. “I’ll request that you be granted first pick when the time comes.”
“Good,” Sister Reedy said, gesturing toward Star. “I want the bitch.”
Winston tried to spread himself out more in front of Star. “Now, just a moment – ”
Awoooo! Iridium howled
He charged the humans, fangs bared. They all shrank back, except for the chief acolyte and Sister Reedy who contemptuously stood their ground. Just short of reaching them, Iridium froze in place, unable to overcome his programming against attacking humans.
yip ... yip ... he whined.
The chief acolyte and Sister Reedy laughed derisively. The others, overcoming their terror, also began laughing.
“This one should make a nice carpet,” Sister Reedy said.
She smacked Iridium hard with her rifle butt. The great canine tumbled away like a discarded toy. Fang and Ripper trailed after him, whimpering.
“Stop that, you bully!” Star cried.
Sister Reedy threw a murderous look Star’s direction. Her finger twitched on the firing mechanism of her assault rifle.
Iridium scrambled up, dashed to the window and began howling. His powerful voice echoed off the surrounding cliffs like the crack of doom. Hundreds of mech birds exited the tower and swooped down en masse. Iri motioned to them frantically.
“He’s summoning the demons!” one of the men cried.
The birds flooded in through the window with a deafening cacophony of chirps and tweets. They swirled around ominously in a dark, terrifying whirlpool. Then they began to meld into a threatening human-shaped composite creature towering toward the ceiling.
All the humans, except for the chief acolyte and Sister Reedy, gasped with fear.
“Where’s Father?” they cried. “Save us! ... It’s the devil incarnate!”
“Not quite,” the chief acolyte sneered.
He strolled boldly toward the bird creature, unfazed by its terrifying appearance. He stopped before it and craned his neck to see the monstrosity’s uppermost region near the ceiling. Sister Reedy trailed after him.
“That’s some trick,” the chief acolyte said. “Now get out.”
The bird creature quivered uncertainly.
“Get out!” Sister Reedy shrieked.
The creature began to waver and tilt, like a great tower on the verge of collapse. Then it abruptly disintegrated. Hundreds of mech birds scattered through the window like frightened chickens. The humans let out a savage cheer.
The chief acolyte turned back toward the others, a grin of cruel triumph slashing across his face like a knife wound. There were about at least forty of them now inside the workshop or gathered in the hallway. Some looked fanatical and overflowing with hatred, like himself. Most of them were just frightened and cowed.
“And to think how many of you feared these winged things when the old man was here,” the chief acolyte said.
He laughed disdainfully, the others joined in. Many seemed to be reacting on cue – as if they were afraid not to laugh.
“Didn’t Father tell you that the threat would pass?” Sister Reedy said. “You of little faith!”
The laughter abruptly stopped. Fear crept back into many faces. Clearly, Sister Reedy was a power to be reckoned with in this bizarre group.
The chief acolyte turned to one of the armed men. “Brother George!”
A short, chubby man stepped out of the crowd and snapped to attention.
“Yes, Chief Acolyte!”
“Notify Father that we have ‘visitors.’”
“As ordered, Chief Acolyte!”
Brother George trotted off down the hallway.
Utter silence descended upon the room like a burial shroud.
I’m beginning to feel distinctly unwelcome, Winston thought.
17. Enter the Savior
Robots and humans regarded each other across the workshop with black suspicion. Fingers twitched on gun triggers, hatred and fear polluted the air like a new round of plague. At any instant, lethal violence could break out. Only the tender mercies of the chief acolyte kept things in check – for the time being.
Ohhh, this is all my fault! Star thought. It was my big idea to come here.
How did we get into this jam? Winston marveled.
Why’d we ever leave Mech City? Iri groaned.
Then, as if drawn by some irresistible force, heads began turning until all eyes were fixated on the doorway. Winston kept himself between it and Star, trying to shield her from whomever might arrive.
Iri nestled up against her and received a head stroke in return.
“I’m sorry, Star,” he said in a low voice. “It was the best I could do.”
“Hush, now, Iri,” Star said. “It’s not your fault.”
Another minute dragged past. The tension became almost unbearable, then ...
Father, a.k.a. ‘The Messiah,’ appeared at the doorway.
He was 28 years old now, but still recognizable from the boy who had founded the Visionist cult. His long, dark hair drooped to his shoulders, scraggly beard covered his face. Over his filthy clothes he sported the same, now undersized, ceremonial robe he’d worn from the first days of his mission.
A feverish eye, surrounded by crimson mist, glowered from the front of this robe toward anyone who dared to behold it.
Winston had seen that eye before, painted on the wall of that room at the REX Hotel – the room with the huge stain on the floor. Jimmy had replaced that whole section of flooring and sand-blasted the eye off the wall, but Winston had never wanted to enter that place again.
He’s been in a deep funk for a long time, Winston observed.
Winston had seen such looks before, from his days as research assistant to Dr. Horvath, on the faces of other would be holy men. Heck, he’d worn a similar expression himself during the days of his political exile in Mech City – a time when the world had seemed empty and hopeless, when he’d believed himself to be a total phony.
This guy’s a fraud and knows it, Winston thought. He just doesn’t want anybody else to know.
Dr, Horvath would have applauded this insight, but how could it possibly help them now? Phony or not, this messiah had plenty of guns at his disposal. One burst from an assault rifle could settle all matters instantaneously.
The messiah’s followers made way for him, bowing their heads in deepest reverence or just plain fear. As he passed, they raised their heads again. Their expressions varied from ecstatic worship, to awe, to naked terror. Some of the women displayed urgent, hysterical expressions as if they were groupies near a rock star.
An eerie, flickering glow – like nothing Winston had ever observed before – appeared in Sister Reedy’s eyes. It seemed as if some demonic power lurked behind them just aching to leap out.
The messiah strolled past Iridium and the mech wolves, eying them contemptuously. Winston stepped forward and bowed.
“Greetings, your leadership,” he said.
The messiah dismissed Winston’s overture with a mocking sneer. He continued on to Star and paused ... His burning eyes fixated on her face, then roved all over her body.
“Well, fucking A,” he murmured, “here’s something new.”
A wicked little smile played across his face. It was strained, as if he had not smiled in a long time. His back was turned to his followers, so they could not observe his blatant lust. Star perceived it, though. She looked back at him, bold and calculating. She placed her hands on hips so as to display her breasts to maximum effect.
Winston dropped his diplomatic propriety.
“Keep away from her, or – ”
He tried to reach out, but his arm was frozen. The messiah turned on him contemptuously.
“Or what, demon spawn?” he said.
“Let us destroy these abominations, Father,” Sister Reedy said from across the room. “They pollute our holy sanctuary.”
Other cultists roared agreement. Everyone looked expectantly toward their leader. The messiah turned slowly toward them, milking the situation for dramatic effect. He opened his mouth to speak.
“I decree that – ”
Star rushed to the window and leaped onto the sill.
“If you hurt anyone, I’ll jump.”
“Star, no!” Winston cried.
He tried to intervene, but two cultists dragged him off.
The messiah gaped at Star like a kid about to lose his favorite toy. Helpless bafflement shot across his face, and his cloak of infallibility began to sag. He recovered quickly, though.
He turned back to his followers with an amused little smile. “Take them to the detention room,” he said. “I shall interrogate them later.”
Cultists manhandled Winston, Iri, and the mech wolves out the door. Star climbed down from the window sill as two men approached to drag her away.
“That won’t be necessary.” The messiah waved the men off. “This one won’t cause any more trouble.”
Oh yeah? Star thought. Don’t count on that, Big Boy.
The men looked rather nonplused, but did as they were told, leaving Star and the messiah alone on the workshop periphery. Star eyed him with frank appraisal for a moment; then she walked toward the door, hips swaying and head high.
Sister Reedy’s eyes followed her out, projecting a beam of pure hatred.