The Twilight of the Gods -- a Story of Mantra

The TWILIGHT OF THE GODS -- Chap. 8

A Story of Mantra and Black September

By Aladdin and Christopher Leeson

Posted 08-27-24

 

 
KING WARSTRIKE
 
He is happiest, be he king or peasant,
Who finds peace in his own home.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The gang of thuggish ultras took me into a large and barren room in a stone building. It wasn’t easy keeping up with them, since that glitchy costume of mine had put me into high-heeled show boots. They bullied me into a building that I recognized as the Los Angeles National Guard Armory and pushed me into a bleak room. Disconcertingly, the windows were barred, which seemed to put me into the category being of a high-security threat.

I tried to reach Gabriel telepathically again, but I still couldn’t reach him. I’m used to computerized systems glitching, but I had a right to expect his advanced systems to behave better than a Walmart desktop!

"King" Warstrike had entered the room behind the rest of us and now stood there studying me. I decided to take off my silver mask. I thought that if looked more like the Mantra he presumably knew, it would scale back his suspicious hostility.

"I would have sold my soul to have Mantra returned to me," he said, "but you can't be her."

My mind was still hazy from Neuron’s blast, so I tried hard to focus. "T-This is an authentic Mantra costume," I said. "It looks different from what you must be used to because it got shaken when I battled with a super-wizard. Now it wants to slip into a different morph every little while.” I didn’t want to tell him that the wizard had been a god from Norse mythology. That much truth would probably convince him that I was lying.

“I happened to know where Mantra's authentic costume is. I took it off her dead body. That means that you’re not Mantra, and that's not her outfit you're wearing!” said Brandon Tark. “Who in hell are you?”

I was stunned by what he said. “I’m a different Eden Blake, Mantra, and Lukasz from the one you know," I told him. "I come from an alternate dimension. I’m sorry about your Mantra; I would have liked to meet her. But I’m a new visitor to this world,” I said.

“That sounds like a load of crap!”

“If you think that's bad, wait until I tell you the rest – Majesty. Maybe we should speak in private. Once you’ve had the full story, you decide who you want to share it with."

"Majesty," a guard said, "she wants to be alone with you. She must be an assassin."

"I bet he talks that way about all the girls,” I said, weakly chuckling.

"You sound so much like Mantra it's uncanny," said the big man.

“You sound like the Warstrike I know, too.” I took a gander at his peculiar outfit. He was wearing a chest-baring, black leather vest with epaulets – a weird combination of formality and informality. He came off looking more like a rock star than a monarch. What happened, bro? Did your old spandex wear out?” I asked.

But he didn’t give me back talk for my flippancy. The man’s face had gone into a thousand-mile stare. I knew Warstrike, and I’d seen that look before. His psychic powers sometimes allowed him to see visions of the future. When that happened, a person had to wait calmly until he came out of it.

Tark abruptly shook himself and glanced around at his guards. “I’ve had a vision,” he said. “This woman doesn’t mean to harm us! I don’t want anyone hurting her!"

"Are you so sure, Handsome One?" said some out-of-sight female.

Out of sight but not out of mind. I recognized the voice. I always hated being tied up when one of my old enemies popped in!

"Queen Necromantra," said Warstrike irritably. "Save the pet names for when we're alone."

Queen Necromantra? King Warstrike?

This setup was getting crazier and crazier!

Warstrike’s gun-toting lackeys made way for the so-called queen. Now I was squared off with one of my most lethal personal enemies.

"You do really make a convincing Mantra,” she said, “except that your costume is a clumsy knock-off. Highness, have you asked her why she’s appeared deliberately dressed to provoke you?"

“He doesn’t have to ask,” I said. “I want to give him the straight skinny.”

"Help her stand up," the king told his guardsmen. Apparently, they liked that order and they came in a cluster to put their hands all over me. Boys will be boys.

"Who are you, really?" Warstrike asked.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my balance on unsteady,igh-heeled feet. "I'm the Mantra from another reality. I've come because you and I have sensitive information to discuss – Your Majesty."

Tark stood cross-armed regarding me. I wondered whether this version of Warstrike had a heart of gold, or if he had been born bad in this world.

"This impostor isn’t Mantra, so who is she?" Necromantra asked.

"Follow me into the next room," he said to me. "The rest of you, clear out and attend to the queen by the entryway."

I wondered what his psychic vision had told him. He didn’t seem to be quite so hostile as before.

The self-appointed monarch strode back out into the room we had entered by, with me trailing behind on unsteady legs. I kept one eye on Necromantra, in case she decided to toss a back-shot my way. In all fairness, the Thanasi I was consistently straightforward about killing. So far, I hadn't seen her off someone by a snake assassination.

"Shut the door," Tark said, and one of his guards complied. Then he motioned me to an old sofa. I was glad enough to sit down. At least the windows of this room weren't barred.

"You move like Eden Blake, I'll give you that."

"Like I said, I’m another version of Eden Blake, but not the version that you're familiar with"

He glowered. "Why do you keep going on about alternate dimensions?"

“Maybe you remember that old TV series, Sliders? The real universe is a lot like that."

“You’re serious?” To my surprise, he sat down on the sofa next to me. He apparently really didn't believe that I'd come to kill him.

"As serious as I can be,” I said.

“If you come from another world, what are you doing here now?” he asked.

“It’s the usual thing. I'm trying to save the universe. Otherwise, I’d much rather be at home with the kids."

“What kids?”

“Evie and Gus.”

He winced. "You say their names with the same twang that the real Mantra used.”

“I think that your Mantra and I must have had a lot in common.

“Give me the whole story. If I like it, I might help you. If you go on talking crazy, I may have to kill you.” Then he added, “I hope we can work together again, like we used to.”

I nodded and began my spiel, without going into excessive. When I finished, I said, "That's all she wrote. Any questions?"

“How do you like our city?” he inquired.

That question was off the wall. “At best, it's a fixer-upper. That guy I mentioned, Gabriel, said you’ve had trouble with a volcano. Is that right?”

I could tell from his expression that he didn’t want to discuss that subject. “I take it that Yellowstone didn’t go up on your world?”

"No, it didn't," I said. "So, the Yellowstone super-volcano wrecked Los Angeles?"

"It sure did, and the rest of the world, too. But volcanic damage was only the start of this city’s problems."

“It never rains but it pours,” I observed. But I didn’t want to tell him the whole story, that this world only had about one day more to exist.

“Please explain something,” I said. “If every city has a king now, does that mean that the USA doesn't have a working central government?"

“The US? Definitely not. It's hard to find out what's happening in the rest of the world, but everything coming at us here is bad.”

I looked around the room, lit only by homemade lanterns. It gave off a real survivalist feel. I would have thought a king's palace would have been stocked up on the best picks from Los Angeles’s refuse heaps.

“I see what you mean,” I said. “Did people have any warning before the volcano blew?”

"No. And it wasn't a natural eruption," he said bitterly.

“What do you mean it wasn’t natural?”

“The people had gotten behind the army and the new president and the Deep State found that its choke-hold on power was breaking down. That’s when they decided to destroy the whole country and take the resources they still had to take over and rule some other continent.”

I wondered if he was talking about the sick-minded and morally rotten Deep State that we’d been dealing with at home. "Who were the bad guys in this world?”

He looked damned angry. “Billionaires, trillionaires, the international banks. China was backing them all the way. When the US Army cut off their control of the American nuclear stockpile, the CCP provided them with the nuke they needed to set off the Yellowstone blast.”

That certainly sounded like the Deep State I knew. “What happened then?”

“Look around. That’s what happened.”

“What are the prospects for getting back on your feet?”

“They’re going from bad to worse.

“How many Americans survived?”

“I can’t say. Many millions died from having to breathe in volcanic ash. The climate is all screwed up and starvation is everywhere. The Southern Hemisphere wasn't hit so hard as we were, but things aren't great there either. There was no reverse illegal immigration allowed. The federales used heavy ordinance to kill any going south over the border. Most of the rejected northern refugees died by the border, without enough food or strength to get back home.”

“That sounds grim."

"It was no surprise that ultras were the fittest for survival. We worked together for a while. But suddenly about half of the ultras decided to band together and start a revolution.”

“What are people rebelling against?”

“To get rid of me mostly They've never spelled out what they want to do differently, other than to have kangaroo trials and lots of executions, I mean.”

“When did the volcano blow?” I asked.

“About nine years ago. But that’s not even the craziest thing that happened.”

"What can be worse?"

"Every star in the sky went out, except our sun Sol, and the planets around it."

That figured. According to Gabriel, the Time Gem could only protect a limited area, no more than a single solar system. Everything outside of the protected space would have been transformed into nothingness by the Nemesis Energy.

“Prime told us that there had been an attack by a goddess from outer space. But if that’s so, we can’t do anything about it. Fighting for our lives takes up all of our attention.”

"Your people keep calling me an impostor. How did the Mantra of your world...die?"

He looked away.

“The rebels kill her?”

"No. Back then, we were constantly being attacked by armed bands from outside, looting food and clean water. Mostly, they were violent illegals. The most dangerous were the hardcore military deserter units packing heavy weapons. Our ultras fought back and we stood them off. But the day came when Prime, Mantra, and some other good people got the worst of up against a military gang. The deserters were beaten off, but our people turned against one another.”

“When did Necromantra show up?” I asked suspiciously.

“It was a few weeks after Mantra died.”

"That doesn't smell right! I said.

He nodded. "If one scrap of legitimate proof had come up against Marinna, I would have killed her myself.”

“I’m only surprised she hasn’t already killed you and taken over. Did you actually marry here? What did you gain from that?”

"It’s hard to explain. But she’s one of the most powerful people in the city and she decided to fight on my side.”

“Why do you trust her? My Warstrike knew what a rat she was. Even if you didn’t, you had to have figured it out eventually. By the way, Necromantra started out as a guy, another knight of Archimage like I was. Did you know that?”

“Yes, I knew that much about her. But remember. I was the guy that married Mantra."

“What? Mantra and you got married?”

“Why? Didn't you and your version of Brandon Tark get married?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because we didn't have a super-volcano to drive us out of our minds! But you said that happened nine years ago. Two years ago Archimage and his knights were still alive and nothing big had happened yet. Did I mention that the space scientist brought me into the future?"

“What year do you come from?” Tark asked.

I told him, and he shook his head. "If that's true, you probably don’t know that Evie is sixteen now!"

“Hell!” I said.

"Anyway," he pressed, "things fell apart here when Eden died. Mantra was the real leader, and I supplied the muscle. She had a way of getting people to work together and be better people than they naturally were. Necromantra is as powerful as Mantra, but every time she opens her mouth, she divides the people more. It doesn’t help that we lost some of our steadiest people, like Hardcase and Prime."

I felt sorry, but there was nothing I could do to save this universe. If I understood him, the whole universe was empty except for the Sol solar system.

“Brandon,” I asked, “you say Evie is sixteen. Is Gus still alive?”

“They’re both well. They’re with me here in this armory.

That was a load off my mind. Though full of questions, I didn’t want to get involved in the problems of this dying universe. It was best if I didn’t get to know the version of my kids living here. The very thought of their imminent deaths felt like an attack of acid reflux.

I changed the subject. “This place is an armed camp,” I said. “What is everyone fighting about?"

"As far as I can see, everyone's fighting because they're desperate for a win, even though they're foggy about what sort of prize they're seeking. Trying to govern ultras is like trying to herd cats. After Eden died, one of my political enemies decided to form a coalition to unite the less stable people against me. I tried to beat the people back into order and the killing started. Somewhere along the way, people started calling me their king, but we haven't been able to stamp out the violent people. Lately, they've been making gains against our side.”

I definitely didn’t want to have anything to do with this world. "I'm an outsider, and what goes on here isn't my business,” I said. “But why do the people on your side all seem to be ex-criminals? Can it be that your side has been mistreating the people?"

The big man gritted his teeth. “I wish things were different, but I want this city to be a civilized place and have no choice but to use the support I have. Selfish people often turn out to be the easiest sort to work with. You know what they say, thieves hang together. You know a lot of history, Luke. Doesn't history tell you that it's the impractical idealists that use government to do the really crazy things when they take power? Look at France, Russia, and China."

"Even if that's so, what needs to be done to bring order out of all this chaos?”

“What I’d like to do is stop the fighting so we can work together to produce enough food to feed everyone."

“If you could, would you be willing to feed even your enemies?”

“That’s a tricky question. For a long time, there won't be enough to go around. We can't share with people unwilling to work with us.”

“So, how is the ‘friends only' approach working out?”

"Not well. But we don't hear anything except nuttiness coming from the other side. If we stopped fighting, I'd think they'd give us the Czar Nicolas treatment.”

I was getting only one side of the argument and couldn’t offer a valid judgment. Warstrike had made some bad mistakes, no doubt. Brandon Tark had impressed me as a good fighter but not a good leader. I knew him as a rambunctious loose cannon whose bull-in-the-china-shop methods for handling problems were too direct and heavy-handed. But what did I know? Maybe a world as crazy as this one needed a crazy man to run it. What I wanted above all was to finish the job and leave this nightmare version of my world behind.

“Would you like to see Gus and Evie?" Brandon asked suddenly.

I swallowed hard. “T-That might not be a good idea,” I stammered. “I can't stay for very long. How would it help the kids if their mother suddenly drops in and leaves again tomorrow? And seeing them living miserably in a messed up place like this is going to slam me emotionally, too. I have to stay focused. If I haven't already told you, my mission is to keep the alien goddess you heard of from annihilating all the alternate dimensions, including my home universe.”

Tark sighed. “Do what you have to do, Eden. But the kids are already hurting. It hurt them terribly not having had a chance to say goodbye to their mom. They never got the closure that the human heart needs."

This discussion was pointless. The kids would only have to bear their grief for a few hours longer. Death isn’t a happy solution, but death was coming and it was going to put an end to all the heartache going on in this world.

"Hey," Tark suddenly said, "I was just thinking. If you never married your version of me in your timeline, does that mean my Jamie was never born?"

I looked askance. “Your daughter Jamie died years before I met you. She was killed by gangsters who came gunning for you. I'm hoping that that that tragedy didn't happen in this world."

He winced as if I’d torn open an old wound.

“Oh, that happened here,” he sighed. “But when our Jamie was born, Mantra suggested we name her after the child I'd loved and lost."

My mouth dropped open. “Mantra’s Jamie? Are you saying that Mantra and you had a daughter?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I guess that didn't happen in your reality.”

“It sure as hell didn’t happen!” I said.

“That’s sort of too bad. Mantra was always a great adoptive mother for Evie and Gus. But after she had Jamie, Eden became an absolutely incredible parent.”

This news wasn’t easy to wrap my mind around.

Most of all, I was staggered to think that I – sort of – had a daughter that I never met living on this planet?

Was she living in this very building?

I definitely didn’t want to meet her!

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 9