The Judge of Ages Read online

  There were seventeen Thaws here: First was the waif perhaps named Alalloel from the Eleventh Millennium. Only four hundred years displaced from her native time. He attempted to contact her with his implants, but the signal did not generate any return. Perhaps she was ignoring him, or perhaps the Blue Men were wise enough to dampen her instruments.

  Second and third were the two gray twins, a male and a female, from the Ninth Millennium. They were very similar to the Blue Men, but seemed to be a later development from them.

  Next were two Hormagaunts, two Clade-dwellers, and three Donors from the Iatrocracy period in the Eighth Millennium.

  After that were four Chimerae and three Kine from the Sixth Millennium.

  The Thaws were not standing together, but rather were grouped by aeon, so that Alalloel had a group of cringing dogs around her, away down the corridor, out of sight; the gray twins were next, and armed dogs separated them from Alalloel on the one side and the Iatrocrats on the other.

  There were more guards blocking the way between the Iatrocrats and the Chimerae, the group to which Menelaus was brought. He saw no Nymphs, nor anyone of earlier eras. He wondered if they had been taken below.

  The Chimerae were closest to the line of sandbags facing the firing range; Alalloel was farthest. All prisoners were huddled against the eastern wall, since the wind was less there.

  Now he was among the Chimerae. Here were three underfed and overworked Kine, muscular dark-haired men with dark and stoical expressions. There were subtle asymmetries and incongruities in their features, odd shapes to their teeth or ears, which hinted at experiments done on generations of their forefathers. Their names were Franz, Ardzl, and Happy.

  Their native garb was not that different from the overalls the Blue Men provided, except that each sported a short half cape, where emblems showing their names and assignments were displayed. Menelaus was pleased to see, from certain irregularities in the way their overalls hung, that they had sharpened tent pegs into knives and had them hidden under their clothes.

  Near them were two Beta maidens. Above knee-length skirts they wore tight, dark pinch-waisted jackets that buttoned up the side like fencing jackets, tight at the neck, with decorations on the exaggerated shoulder pads. Menelaus was reminded of doormen’s costumes at old hotels. Their world had been warmer than that of the gray twins: instead of boots, they wore sandals with laces that ran up their thighs.

  The warrior maidens had carved serviceable bows out of the branches of yew trees and strung them with strands of their gene-modified, nigh-unbreakable hair. Each maiden had fletched a dozen arrows, feathered from slain owls, but knapping flint to make a workable arrowhead was beyond what their auxiliary corps girls’ schools had taught them. The arrowheads were shards of glass taken from shattered bottles from the infirmary tent, lashed to the arrow shafts with adhesive medical gauze. From the way their tunics hung, he guessed that wider strips of medical gauze had been used to bind their breasts flat: impromptu plastrons. More medical tape wrapped their left arms from palm to elbow, as protection against the bowstring, and their left sleeves were folded up and buttoned short.

  Here also was a Gamma. His skin was peeling and pockmarked, a mixture of dark and white patches, and his lower jaw protruded like a Neanderthal’s. He had clipped a lock from his long brown hair and woven the strands into a functional Goliath-killing-type sling.

  The sleeve of his uniform bulged, showing he kept the water-smoothed stones that formed his store of ammunition in his rolled-in shirtcuffs. His name was Buck Gamma Joet Goez Phyle of Bull Run, Lineage Discontinued.

  The male uniform was severe and unadorned, except for a cloak of livid scarlet; shoulder boards extended a hand’s length beyond his shoulder, giving his costume something of the look of an ancient samurai’s. On these shoulder boards were small electric pins displaying his line, rank, and regiment. His only other adornment was a cloak pin of brass shaped like an upside-down letter L. On his head was a cap of leather and horn.

  Alpha Lady Ivinia, splendid in the metal breastplate and tiara of her dress gear, a jet-black tunic decorated with silver skull ornaments, and a long black leather skirt hemmed with iron bosses, still carried her spear. Her red cloak was pinned with a letter shaped like a fish.

  3. Reporting for Duty

  In his role as Beta Sterling Anubis, he crossed over to her, and knelt, head bowed and hand out in a straight-armed salute. “Milady. Uh, reporting for duty, Ma’am.”

  She bent and touched him on the shoulder, which surprised him; and drew him to his feet and kissed him on the cheek, which surprised and alarmed him. (She was a tall woman, but even she had to stand on her tiptoes to do this.)

  Lady Ivinia said, “This is not I who gives you this kiss, Loyal and Proven Beta, but, rather, the motherhood of all the race, including your own mother, who is not present to give it.”

  Menelaus touched his cheek, strangely moved. He knew what a horrid and bloodthirsty race the Chimerae were, and yet still they were human beings. Almost.

  Lady Ivinia spoke in a hushed voice, with great dignity, “That is the farewell kiss of the race that bore you, for it may well be that we die this day, and reach the longed-for oblivion which will quench the memories of all our crimes and shortcomings in beautiful, unending nothingness. They have taken away Alpha Daae and greatly I fear for his safety. I charge you that should the chance come, his life must be saved, even at the expense both of your life and honor, and of his honor. No glorious death is to be his: Should he so command, and with the strongest oaths bind you, I charge you by the womb of the mother that bore you, and the paps that nursed, to betray that command, and break those oaths. If the name of Anubis must be sunk forever in shame and cursed, let it be so, but he must survive.” She did not even mention the name of Alpha Yuen.

  Menelaus then realized that the Alpha Lady meant to marry, no doubt to begin the Chimera race again, and that her only choices for the next Adam were between gray-haired Daae and young Yuen. And she had selected Daae.

  He felt both awed and saddened by the ambition of her daydream, and its unlikelihood. It was nearly as unlikely as his own dream of finding his own true love again.

  Menelaus said, “Ma’am, I will do what I might to save him. The sacrifice of the name Anubis to shame I do not regret, nor will I hesitate.” (It was not, after all, his name.)

  She inclined her head regally, but then turned her nose aside, to look at him sidelong, a strangely coy and demure look on the face of a woman whose normal expression was one of cold and direct ferocity. “You speak as one almost not fully a Chimera. There is more to you than seems at first inspection. And yet Yuen says you bested him…”

  “By a trick, Proven and Loyal Ma’am. He is Alpha; I am Beta.”

  “… but I am convinced you are loyal to the race. You do not apprehend how near the race teeters to being utterly expunged, nor your own role in these events.”

  “My role? Beggin’ your pardon, my Lady?”

  Her eyes grew vivid as she stared at his face. “Alpha Daae realized that the Blue civilian named Illiance interrupted our briefing, and took you from us, merely to have you away from the field of action, while the camp was broken down and withdrawn with all personnel to the belowground here. You were meant not to be present when Kine Larz forced the great door to the lower levels. They did not return your uniform to you. This was not to shame you: they understand you are significant.”

  Menelaus did not mention that he had not been buried with a uniform, Chimerical or otherwise.

  He looked again at the Beta girls with their bows, Phyle with his sling; not to mention the belt capsules of the gray twins, or the poisonous oil in the hair barbs of Zouave Zhigansk.

  Menelaus wondered at the nonchalance of the Blue Men. Perhaps the Blues wanted the Thaws to be armed, to have an excuse to slaughter them that would ease their consciences.

  It took him a moment to realize that something more was involved in returning the native period garb to the p
risoners. They had been allowed to retain their makeshift weapons in order to provoke a disturbance in the behavior patterns of the prisoners.

  With hope of violence in the air, their actions would be tested under stress, and once again anomalies in behavior would be more obvious. It was a dangerous tactic meant to flush out the imposter among the prisoners, and it bespoke desperation on the part of the Blue Men.

  Something was terrifying them into rash action.

  4. Hairdressing

  The Chimerae also sensed the terror in the air, and it gladdened their hearts. The Chimerae were relaxed, which was an odd sight, like seeing a pack of wolves suddenly learn how to smile. A certain degree of informality seemed to have overcome them: they did not address each other by rank.

  Lady Ivinia whistled and doffed her tiara, pushed back Menelaus’ hood, and gestured for him to sit on the cold metal floor beside her. Then the Chimerae took out oils and combs and began dressing each other’s hair. Gamma Joet Phyle stood behind Lady Ivinia, who maintained a stoical expression as her hair was yanked by the apologetic Phyle. Vulpina and Suspinia stood behind Menelaus and began combing his hair, marveling at how short he wore it. The three Kine, Happy, Ardzl, and Franz, backed away on their knees, bowing, as far as the dog things would permit, frightened to see their master race wax merry.

  Lady Ivinia said, “Brothers and sisters! For you are all ennobled to my blood this day: The oblivion we crave is upon us now! Let us each, in our hearts, curse the nonexistent God for his indifference, and dare him to destroy us! The more lingering the death inflicted, the longer the time to display the stoicism and bravery by which our descendants and lineages shall be judged by future Eugenics Boards…”

  Her voice trailed off. Her words had no doubt been something she had been wont to say, a habit, and spoken before she could catch herself. A pall of silence hung in the air after this; no one of the Chimerae was willing to say that there would be no more Eugenics Boards, and no lineages, forever.

  Menelaus stirred and said, “Well, don’t give up hope yet; it’s possible we can talk our way out of this. We all might make it out alive, if we only keep our heads…”

  They looked shocked for a moment, and then, suddenly, the Chimerae opened their mouths and laughed peals of laughter, Gamma Phyle in bass, Lady Ivinia in a contralto, the two Beta maidens in sopranos.

  Phyle, the scabrous-skinned Gamma, spoke up, “Good one, Sterling! Had me going!”

  Vulpina, behind him, giggled and shrieked and said, “Oh, Anubis, you are too funny!”

  Suspinia, the other Beta adolescent, said doubtfully, “He wasn’t really, I mean, not for real, wanting to live, right? It was just a rec hall prat, right?”

  Lady Ivinia said, “Of course, my sister. Merely a comical word to unknot the tension! All Chimerae know that life is pain. Life is grief. The only joy of life is to inflict death on those who want so desperately to live. The only peace in life is to yearn for death, so that those who inflict death on you are cheated of this same joy. That is the Chimera way. In our blood, and in our genes, we are half beasts, and we despise the nature of pure men, who love good things.” But she said this not in a stern tone, but lightheartedly, as if she were speaking sentiments known to all; reminding, not instructing.

  Menelaus jumped when Beta Vulpina spoke in his ear. He had not forgotten that the hands rubbing oil into his hair belonged to the maiden pressing against his back, but now her lips were dangerously near his ear, and he felt the intimate tingle of her breath on his cheek. She said softly, “Listen to the Alpha Lady! We must learn to love pain, and to love to inflict it!”

  “Lovely,” muttered Menelaus in deadpan sarcasm. “How old are you, what, sixteen? Fourteen?”

  “I am as old as I will ever be! This hour you and I will die together! Won’t that be fun? If we time it right, we can have the entrails of our corpses mingled together in a huge pool of blood. I ask this as my dying request. Do you really think me lovely?” And she kissed him on the ear.

  He brushed her lips away from his neck like a man brushing a fly. “I am still married until death us do part, sister. I appreciate the offer—who does not like a romantic double murder-suicide in battle?—but let’s keep our guts inside us to digest food, and spill theirs on the floor.”

  She pouted. “You un-face me! If I were not about to commit suicide in battle, I’d commit suicide just to spite you!”

  Lady Ivinia was done with her coiffure, and now she had Vulpina sit down before her, and began combing out the girl’s hair with practiced, businesslike strokes. “Sister Vulpina! Self-demotion is a sacred rite among us! And too good for you!”

  All the Chimera laughed again, and Vulpina turned beet-red, but she also laughed, and did not draw her suicide dirk and plunge it into her own throat.

  Lady Ivinia said, “The duty of virgins is to survive combat and be raped by their conquerors, so that they may bear male children, teaching them to slay their fathers and avenge us. Remember this! I am the mother of seven I can name with pride and others I do not name. My duty to the race is fulfilled, and painful death in melee is an honor I can claim.”

  Suspinia said in a saucy voice, “Well, you’re too old to get raped anyway!”

  Instead of drawing a weapon and killing her on the spot, Ivinia threw back her head and emitted a peal of laughter, and Gamma Phyle slapped the ground, guffawing, and said, “Aye! But them blue Kine ain’t got no wagglies bigger’n my pinky nohow, so who could they plumb?”

  Menelaus said, “Since we are all about to die, let me just be frank and say, Chimerae are a sick, sick race. The only thing that is really good about Chimerae is that we are not as disgusting as Nymphs.”

  Suspinia sniffed and snapped her fingers under his nose. “Well, that’s not fair! Chimerae have good points! We love fighting, for one thing. And we are tidy. Have you seen how squared away our tents and grounds in the prison camp are, compared to those sloppy Witches’?”

  More laughter. Vulpina chimed in, “She is right! The Witches don’t even walk in step when they walk. They are like toddlers who haven’t learned how to march. At dawn they are still in their sleeping rolls when the dogs blow reveille—except unless they stayed up all night!”

  Phyle said, “Anubis! You’re not saying aright, Brother Beta! Chimmers are the best o’ the best. ’Specially our womenfolk. I figures there be but two kinds of frails, those what like getting beaten a bit before bunk-up time, and those what stab their men in the kidneys with a stiletto whiles we’re asleep. Meek and feisty. Both have their good points, mind you! But both kinds likes them to kill strays and ferals like whats facing us here in this place, so I’ll bet you that these two girls and the lady will kill more of the foe than all the others in the room combined! If I win the bet, I cut off your left nut; and if you win the bet, you cut off mine! What’ya say?”

  Stray and feral meant any one not bred according to the sound principles of eugenics.

  Menelaus clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Joet, you’re a man after my own heart! And I do appreciate you wanting to stick up for the womenfolk—that’s right gentlemanlike of you. Unfortunately, I just found out early today that wagering is an undue complexity of life. On another topic, let me explain what these archaic words in the long-dead language called English mean: engaging-in-copulation, guano-of-bats, not-sane. Now, each separately means nothing, but, taken together as a phrase, the stalwart men of Texas in elder times used this expression (abbreviated FBC) to refer to anyone like yourself, who was (well, if I can be frank one more time) simply Fu—”

  Lady Ivinia interrupted, “Do not be frank, Sterling! It erodes discipline, and in any case our cause will prevail, despite any losses. The Judge of Ages is real—Alpha Daae has convinced me of it—and will hand us victory.”

  Menelaus wished he were equally confident.

  5. Separated

  The widow Aanwen, Preceptor Naar (along with four of his automata that had been outfitted with steam-powered machine guns), a
nd a squad of excited and yammering dog things rose out of the stairwell, and crossed the metal floor of the firing range. Larz favored them with an airy salute of his wine-bowl.

  They entered the connecting corridor. Naar uttered a command in his singsong language. The dog things lowered the bayonets and began urging the cold-faced and defiant Chimerae toward the big door. The Blue Woman, Aanwen, gestured toward Menelaus. Not him.

  Like wolves separating a stray from the herd, a trio of dog things thrust their way, snarling, between Menelaus and Lady Ivinia. She brandished her spear. The Kine fell to the deck, hands over their heads, whimpering. The two Beta teenagers, blithely ignoring the ferocious dogs and their threatening bayonets, stopped and strung their bows. The Gamma soldier, Phyle, shrugged, and as if by magic, dropped his sling out of his sleeve, stone already in the pocket, and set his shoulders as if ready to sling a stone at the nearest Blue Man.

  Menelaus saw that resistance was suicide. The metal walls of the narrow corridor would scatter ricochets and shrapnel in every direction, and any intact panels of reflex armor would ignite grenades and petards in counter-fire, chopping everything in the corridor to bits neatly as a steel thresher on overdrive. The gray twins might have nerve weapons that would stun or benumb Naar or Aanwen, or the Hormagaunts release spores that would sicken or slay the dog things, but neither one could affect the automata, nor prevent all the dogs from opening fire; nor could the sling, arrows, spear, and knives of the Chimerae damage the machines.

  Menelaus estimated that a trained fighting-Chimera could kill ten or twelve armed dog things barehanded; but Gamma Phyle had been recently released from the infirmary tent, and was not in top shape, and Lady Ivinia and the teenaged girls could not match even his performance.

  Menelaus called out in two languages not to attack, and the dogs, annoyed by the noise, struck at his face and chest with their musket butts, knocking him from his feet. He had hardened the substance of his cloak before the blows landed, and he stayed on the ground, hood over his face, unwilling to show himself lest Aanwen and Naar realize that Menelaus could not be harmed by the weapons present.