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The Waystation Ch.43
🕑 Added 2023-07-21 06:53:11 +0000 UTCChapter 43
The City of the Sun III
The interior of the tower was far from welcoming. An imposing entryway flanked by stone knights, complete with the familiar bronze sun symbol on their chests, led into a wide, curved room with a long counter on one wall.
Bert wandered over to it, his eyes caught by some writing carved into the stone countertop.
Confess Your Sins
It was written at regular intervals along the counter, and ink pots waited above each one. Bert peered over the counter, finding the stacks of rough paper on the other side, tucked into compartments.
“Well, that certainly fits the theme,” Bert sighed. He and Bud followed the counter, finding a collection tray at a guard post next to the door leading deeper into the tower. “Confess your sins in order to get in, and they always have something on anyone who wants to enter the tower.”
“People could lie?” Bud asked.
“And they definitely will have, but this kind of people tend to punish that kind of thing… harshly,” Bert noted.
Beyond, they found a narrow hallway that wound around the tower's base, offices coming from it marked as anything from ‘Planning’ to ‘Advocate’ to ‘House of Sins.’
They checked that last one out. It was full of molded paper. Most of it was unreadable. Bud did find one that was still legible. It was a list of sins… committed by a man’s neighbor.
At the bottom was a price paid to the reporting individual.
“They paid people to report on each other?” Bud asked. “That seems like a bad idea.”
“Pricks,” Bert spat. “They had a very nasty little system here.”
“Why, though?” Bud asked. “I mean, what is the point of all this?” He waved a skeletal hand vaguely. “Wouldn’t everyone just get pissed off?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Bert smiled grimly. “Unfortunately, there is a thing they called ‘holier than thou’ back on Earth. In short, everyone feels slightly morally superior to each other. They tell themselves they have nothing to fear; their neighbors, family, or even spouse may have to worry, but they are too pure to fear judgment.”
“Really?” Bud asked incredulously.
“Yup.” Bert chuckled bitterly.
“That is insane,” Bud said simply.
“But it works,” Bert noted. “I wish it didn’t, but it does.”
They found a stairway at the far end of the corridor. Bert guessed they were only a wall away from where they entered. The next floor up was almost an exact mirror of the ground floor. And the two floors above that. It seemed they needed quite a few rooms to report on each other.
Bud became visibly depressed as they climbed higher, finding more and more evidence the system was flourishing. He stopped just as they were about to ascend the stairs to the fifth floor. He looked anxiously up the stairs.
“Boss, Why? I need to know why so many people were willing to turn on each other.” His shoulders were slumped, his head bowed.
“I can only guess, but… It probably started slowly. Like someone was losing their grip on power or someone else wanted it. So they needed a way to get attention.”
“Okay?” Bud asked.
“That person, group, whatever, then picks something or someone who is not very popular. They start talking up people's hate and fear about that group. Making sure that people feel justified in their hatred of that group.” Bert said.
“So? How does that lead to this?” Bud asked.
“Because people want to feel like the good guys. They want to be the hero, not the villain. And if you tell people their hatred, bigotry, and prejudice is not just acceptable, but makes them the good guys? They aren’t going to want to listen to anything else.”
Bud looked horrified.
“And once you have gotten power, you get rid of those people, so you need a new bad guy… and so it goes. In the end, you have everyone wandering around feeling they are the good guy and everyone else is the bad guy.”
“So, how is there anyone left?” Bud asked. “If this goes on all the time…”
“That’s simple, Bud.” Bert grinned. “There is always some awkward bastard who won’t go along with the plan.”
“Like you, Bert?” Bud chuckled.
“Yup.” Bert said happily, “I don’t give a fuck about being the good guy. I can accept I’m a bastard, and if someone tells me I’m living the ‘wrong’ way?” He chuckled, “I’ll happily tell ’em to fuck off.”
“You really don’t care if you are the good guy?” Bud asked.
“Not really.” Bert shrugged. “What people see as good changes too often. I’m going to do what I think is the best option and fuck what anyone else thinks.”
They walked up to the fifth floor together, Bud still looking troubled but a little less so.
The fifth floor was not an improvement. It was the first time Bert had ever seen dungeons in real life, let alone dungeons on the fifth floor. He was sure dungeons were supposed to be below ground.
That was not the plan here, it seemed. They needed to be up high so that the most light would get in. It was the kind of thing some twisted writer would come up with in some dystopian nightmare.
A wide opening ran along the top half of the exterior wall, letting the sun stream in whenever it was high enough to get over the walls. Beneath it was a long trough of water. People had been chained up on the far side of the room.
There was nothing left but skeletons now, but the layout made the idea clear.
Bert picked up one of the chains and measured the length.
“Oh, I hope these fuckers are still around,” He muttered. Bert wanted to get one in a room and have a little chat with them. A long chat. “They chained the people against the walls and let the sun get at them. The chains will let them get close to the water but never close enough to drink.” He shook his head. “They burn in the sun and die of thirst mere inches from the water.”
“Hey, Boss? Any chance we can knock this city down?” Bud said.
“We can certainly try,” Bert said. “But I think this place is a little big for us to wipe out.” He looked around. “Besides, these poor bastards deserve a memorial.”
Bud nodded grimly.
The floors got worse and worse until they arrived, pale and sweating, on the twentieth floor.
Gone were the horrific cells full of rags and bones, replaced by opulent excess. It was a shocking contrast. The bare stone floors had been covered with deep carpets, and the walls were covered with rich paintings, all showing the sun. It looked like an apartment for the very rich, transplanted into a medieval tower. Doors off a corridor led to more rooms, all richly decorated with an overwhelming amount of wealth. They found a bedroom with a bed big enough for ten people, with a single figure in it.
The figure was lying in peaceful slumber, and desiccation had given it a wide smile as the skin dried and pulled back. Bud growled, marched over to the figure, and dragged it from the bed, hurling it out the window with a snarl.
His rage steadily worsened as they climbed higher, and the decadence increased.
By the time they got to the twenty-fifth floor, the stone was replaced with something like polished marble. By the thirtieth floor, there were gems studded in everything.
Bud was searching a desk when he reached out and grabbed a note on top of it. He handed it wordlessly to Bert.
To whoever finds this note,
Know that I have acted in true faith and in service of my God.
The city is corrupted. The people no longer follow the path.
It was a woman who caused this.
She would not submit to marriage as she should.
We pressed the issue, as is our right, as shepherds.
She persisted, and we decided a lesson would be taught.
For ten days, she was tied in the center courtyard.
Naked and without dignity, she refused to be cowed…
She kept talking, and the people began to listen.
They came in a mob and cut her free… the guards helped.
This city must be purged, and so we gathered the faithful.
The great sanction was cast and flowed outward…
She reached out a hand and stopped it. How? How!
She fights it even now, and all the faithful have been sacrificed.
She weakens, but did any escape judgment? I do not know.
She held us back for three days, and so I offer myself to the spell.
I will live in glory as a Saint!
Bert laughed, and Bud looked at him in shock.
“See, Bud. There’s always someone there to stand against these assholes.” Bert smiled grimly.
“But she failed?” Bud said. “They all died anyway.”
“You think she was trying to save the people?” Bert asked.
“If not that, then why?” Bud cocked his head to the side.
“Because they hurt her, tried to control her. Demanded she bow to their will.” Bert said. “So she said fuck you and fought back!” He grinned. “And she got ‘em. They all fed themselves to the spell, trying to fight her.”
“How do you know she wasn’t just trying to save everyone?” Bud challenged.
“She could have gotten a few to safety with that kind of power,” Bert said thoughtfully. “Knock a hole in the wall or something, but she chose to hold the tide back and force them to kill themselves.”
“I don’t understand,” Bud shook his head.
“That’s because you, Bud, are a truly good person.” Bert put an arm around his friend, “You have to think more like a total prick to understand it!”
They continued up, getting to the very top of the tower, finding a single skeleton knelt in a prayer pose in the room right at the top. Each wall was open to the sunlight, with only pillars to keep the roof up. Bert took a run-up and kicked the corpse off the tower.
“She won, you fucking dick!” He called after it.
Bud laughed.
He was doing much better now that he knew the whole story. Someone had stood against the tide. Someone had said this far and no further.
And someone always would.
=================
They hurried back down the tower, both of them eager to leave such an evil place behind them. They took nothing. Pain and suffering had seeped into the very bones of the place, and Bert wanted none of it.
Some things were so terrible they never washed off.
By the time they walked out of the doors way at the bottom of the tower, storm clouds were gathering in the distance.
Reed and Lowes were waiting at the Express. Wendy had opened the side of the giant vehicle and was serving them drinks from the hatch while Scruff picked at the plants in the area.
They looked up and smiled, seeing the two emerge.
“We found a rather strange thing,” Reed said, standing, “So we came to get you.”
“What kind of thing?” Bert asked.
“I think it was a woman, once,” Lowes said. “She is petrified, I think.”
Bert and Bud looked at each other.
“Where?” They asked at the same time.
“I feel we have missed something,” Reed quirked an eyebrow.
“I’ll tell you on the way,” Bert said.
They followed the ring of glass to their destination. It was about halfway around the city from where they started, and it was indeed a woman. Bert and Bud climbed down first, the others following as they approached the stone figure with a sense of reverence.
She stood naked and unafraid, with her arms raised in front of her and her legs firmly planted. Her hair was blown back from her head, and a vicious grin was frozen on her face.
Other than that, she looked unremarkable. She wasn’t some great beauty or an Amazonian warrior. She was an average woman. But inside, there had been something special.
Bert gently touched the stone shoulder and spoke into her ear. “You got ‘em, all of ‘em.”
“Should we cover her up?” Bud asked.
“No,” Bert shook his head. “They did it to try and shame her, and she made it a weapon.”
He collected rocks from the area with the help of the others and made a wide circle of stones around the figure. It wasn’t much, but he felt she deserved something.
As a final touch, he found a wide flat stone and leaned it against the circle, facing the tower. He spent a few minutes carving words into the stone.
When all others bowed their heads, I stood against the storm.
Remember Me.
A soft rain started to fall as thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Come on then, let’s fuck off home.”
“So, what about what happened to the Deadlands?” Bell asked. “I thought that was why we drove all the way back here.”
“There is no way to know,” Reed said.
“All evidence of what happened is long gone now.” Lowes agreed.
Bert sat at the bar and silently drank his mead for a moment. He wasn’t brooding, just tired.
“Percy asked me to find out what happened, who did it, and if they would do it again.” He yawned. “We know who did something, and they’re dead. We know everyone else is dead, too.” Bert shrugged. “I don’t see how it could happen again….”
“What?” Bell asked, seeing his look.
“Those paladins who attacked us at the City of the Dead. Didn’t they have a sun symbol on their gear?” Bert asked.
“And they had tattoos of it as well,” Scruff offered from the corner. “What? I saw it when I was harvesting the body parts!”
“Creepy,” Bert acknowledged. “Okay, so maybe these ones are gone, but there may well be others out there.”
“So?” Bell sighed. “We hunt them down, I suppose.” She looked grumpy.
“Why?” Bert asked.
“Huh?” Bell looked surprised.
“Why would we hunt them down?” Bert asked.
“Because they did bad shit? Aren’t you going on some revenge quest or something?” Bell asked.
“That is the right thing to do, I suppose.” Reed sighed.
“I say again… why?” Bert shrugged. “We can’t kill every evil bastard in the world. It would be a full-time job, and this is a pub… not a weapon.”
“They deserve to die,” Bud growled. “All of them.”
“They sure as fuck do,” Bert agreed. “And we will certainly be gutting any that get in our way… but all of them?” He shrugged again. “The trick is telling who needs to die and who just needs to get away from the buggers.”
“So, no epic quest?” Lowes asked in confusion.
“No! For fuck sake, this is big stuff. I’m not smart enough for this shit.” He looked around. “I’m off to bed; I’m knackered.”
The others watched him leave.
“What?” Bell asked, glowing happily.
“He’s just moving on?” Reed asked.
“Yup.” Bell beamed.
“Do you think he knows how few people could look at a problem, realize it is too big for them… and just be okay with that?” Lowes asked thoughtfully.
“That’s my Caretaker!” Bell giggled. “He doesn’t want to save the world; just explore it!”
===========
Bert was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Lights swirled around him, pale rays of silvery moonlight.
In his sleep, his eyes opened, showing silvery white light.
And he found himself dreaming of walking through the gloomy City of the Sun.
His path eventually took him to the statue with its ring of stones.
He stood, looking at the statue for a moment… and it moved.
Color returned to it as she took a deep shuddering breath and smiled.
“Hello, Bert J Hudson.” She had a silvery glow to her skin, and her dark hair and eyes shone with moonlight.
“Hi,” Bert said, trying to avoid looking below the neckline.
The woman laughed and waved her hands, clothing herself in the moonlight.
“Better?” She asked.
“Much, thanks.” He nodded. “Why am I here?”
“Straight to the point; that’s why I like you.” Another smile. She stepped to the edge of the ring of stones and looked around. “She did well, didn’t she?”
“She did,” Bert nodded. “And you are?”
“I am the Goddess of the Moons. She was my follower in the end.”
“I see,” Bert said. “So, why am I here?” He asked again.
“Many mortals would revel in speaking with the Gods,” She frowned.
“You aren’t my Gods,” Bert shrugged. “And I have bad luck with Immortals.”
“Don’t worry,” She laughed. “I want nothing from you.”
“And yet, you still haven’t answered my question.” He smiled.
She laughed hard at that one.
“You really have no tact at all, do you?” She asked.
“None,” Bert shrugged.
“I am here to reward you,” She laughed.
“How?” Bert asked.
“I will give you a choice. Knowledge, or Riches.”
“Knowledge,” Bert said straight away.
“You’re smarter than you look,” She beamed.
“I’d have to be,” Bert laughed.
“Very well, Bert J. Hudson. You may ask me one question. Any knowledge in the universe can be yours.”
“What happened to the Deadlands?” Bert asked.
“I did,” She shrugged. “I cast a pressure spell, as you surmised. The blessed Church of the Sun will never try their spell again, as they think they did it.” She laughed. “And it was funny.”
“And that’s why I never get involved with Gods,” Bert sighed.
“I like you, little Fae.” She beamed at him. “The Gods are watching, Mr. Hudson. I am not the only one you shall meet.” She blew him a kiss and faded.
Bert woke in his bed in the Waystation.
“Fuck!”
