The Day of the Nefilim (14 page)

The third creature had the normal features of a human male, but in the center of its torso, where its chest and stomach should have been, there was a large oval hole, through which Sahrin could see figures in the distance. With a start, she realized that she had been wrong in thinking that the small figures she could see were behind the creature. In fact they were about ten inches tall, one male and one female, and she saw now that they were sitting in the hollow of the gap in the torso, where the pit of the creature’s stomach should be.

I don’t know what’s going on here,
she thought to herself.

‘But,’
the reply came to her,
‘you don’t need to know, do you? Just treat everything you do know as a gift, and all the things you don’t… well, leave them for now… this is a place of unusual things; it always has been…’

I don’t think like that,
she thought, and looked at Obirin, expecting to see him looking at her, but he wasn’t. She climbed out and followed him onto the pier.

Her eyes fell on the two miniature creatures that inhabited the hollow mutant’s torso. They were looking at her, smiling. The words had come from them.
Great, more mind games,
she thought. She smiled thinly and turned away.

Without anything more being said or thought, the trio led them up a short path, into the maze of alleyways and pathways that wound through the jumble of buildings that covered the island. It was chaos. The air was hot, and thick with smoke and the heavy smell of unwashed bodies. Sour cooking smells and other more obscure odors wafted out of dark doorways.

Sahrin realized that she was walking close to Obirin as they made their way through the narrow alleyways. It was strange, she thought, that she should be relying on one strange creature for reassurance in the midst of a mass of even stranger ones. A dark face peered out of one of the doorways as they passed. Red eyes narrowed. There was a hissing sound, and a long tongue darted out and wrapped itself around her arm. She shrieked and jumped back. Something made a laughing sound in the shadows, and the tongue fell away, leaving her even more apprehensive about the locals as they moved on.

They passed through a square in which some creatures, which she decided might be children on account of their size, were playing a noisy game that involved spinning a skull and keeping a record of how it came to rest.

Near the edge of the square, stallholders were offering goods for sale. She slowed as they passed. On one of the tables were artifacts that, if she had known, she would have realized could only have come from the surface. There was a soldier’s helmet, and she recognized a belt of grenades. There were pens and pencils, some rolls of clear plastic, a jumbled pile of shoes, some sunglasses, a compass, and a small piece of mirror. Most of it was old junk, suffering much from the effects of time and neglect, but a few of the items were in good condition.

They were quickly through the square. Wherever it was that they were going, it was clear that time was not to be wasted. They came to a dark alley in which the air was heavily scented with the sweet acrid smell of something burning. Something crippled scuttled out of their path as the three locals led Sahrin and Obirin into an open doorway at the end of the street.

They walked into the ground floor of one of the larger buildings. The back of the room was open. They were on the edge of the town, and the missing wall provided a good view of the sea around the island. Its waves, small as they were, had subsided, and the surface of the water was now smooth. The fog had evaporated, and a light rain was falling.

But Sahrin’s attention was not on the rain, or the dead sound it made as it hit the ground outside.

Around a large table in the center of the room were arranged a dozen seats. Four of them were empty. Obirin and the three creatures who had met them on the beach sat down.

The other eight seats were occupied by a collection of mutants. There were feathers and scales, hands and claws, human flesh of all colors, combined in physical and anatomical combinations that Sahrin could never have dreamed of.

She became aware that she was the only one standing, and that several of the creatures were looking at her. Suddenly self-conscious, she edged back into the shadows of one of the room’s corners. It seemed to have the desired effect. They resumed their conversations.

After a few minutes, one of them slapped its hand on the table and the room fell silent.

A short creature, which seemed to be a cross between a dwarf Nefilim and a female human, with the addition of a pair of leathery wings that hung limply from her back, leaned forward in her seat.

“We were thinking you might not be making it, Obirin. We were about to give up waiting and begin.”

“I came as quickly as I could, but there were a few problems I had to deal with before I could leave.”

It was the first time Sahrin had heard Obirin use his voice. She could tell that it didn’t come easily to him. He had difficulty forming the words, and his voice had a thin, scratchy tone that was flat and unmodulated.

“Of course. This is a time for problems. There will soon be problems enough for everyone,” said a creature whose skin was incised with deeply engraved tattoos. It had a sloping forehead and tiny pinhole eyes, which at first gave Sahrin the impression of imbecility, until she reminded herself that this didn’t seem to be a place where appearances counted for much.

“You can vouch for your companion?” another one asked.

Sahrin cast a quick glance at the Nefilim. After a few days traveling underground together, they had begun to read each other’s actions and expressions with a degree of success. She saw him look in her direction, and then say something quickly in another language. No one looked at her again. Whatever he said must have satisfied them. She listened in silence as they spoke.

“The Nefilim have activated the control points of their grid,” Obirin was saying.

“We suspected as much. We felt the signs among ourselves.” The speaker, the woman with the ostrich legs, passed a hand lightly across her brow as though to indicate that she was reporting a mental impression that someone had received. “It hasn’t been fully brought online, though, as far as we’ve been able to tell. We still have some time, but it would be unwise to think that we have much…”

A thing with four arms, gray fur and no discernible eyes spoke. “We are not sure of the degree of co-operation between the Nefilim and the human rulers on the surface. Do you have any information?”

“Only to say that there must be some,” Obirin replied. “Humans were at the site that I’ve seen. As to the exact nature of their involvement, I do not know.”

“We must assume that there is some co-operation between the two races. For the present, at least.” A murmur of agreement went around the table.

“The humans obviously think that there is something in it for them – or
some
of them, at least,” somebody said.

“And the Nefilim must be letting them think that,” said the one with the incised skin.

“Or it could be that we’ve misjudged the humans,” said the dwarf Nefilim-woman hybrid with wings.

“I think we’ve known them long enough, even if at a distance, to know that that could well be true,” said Obirin. There was more agreement.

Sahrin was watching the one with the hole in its torso. The two midgets were acting as its hands. The male climbed out onto a chair leg, and down to a bag that lay on the ground at the creature’s feet. It rummaged through the bag’s contents for a moment, then climbed back up to its host’s shoulder. There, like a trained monkey, it fed a morsel of food into the creature’s mouth. After its chore was done, it climbed back down to its place with its partner.

After a while Sahrin realized with a start that not only had she been daydreaming, but that they had been talking about her. How conversant was she with recent developments? Did she know about their plans? Could she be trusted?

They seemed to have realized that she wasn’t paying attention, and if they had been talking to her, they’d given up, and were now talking between themselves.

“I know nothing about your intentions,” she interrupted, recovering quickly. “I came to this planet with friends, but we’ve become separated. I would like to meet up with them again, but I suspect that by now there’s a great distance between us. As for what’s happening on the surface, I know nothing. And as for the Nefilim, Obirin here is the first one I’ve ever met.”

“But you’ve heard of them before?”

“Heard of them? Yes, of course I have,” she replied. “Their race is part of the folklore or mythology of any place you visit, anywhere or in any time…”

“Time..?” A ripple of attention went around the table. “Are you saying that you can travel through time?”

Instantly, she regretted what she had said. Had she let them know too much? “In a sense,” she replied, hesitantly. “There are some places that we can go, there are others that we can’t. It’s like going anywhere. Sometimes the passage is easy, sometimes difficult, sometimes impossible. But there are maps…” She stopped.
Damn…

“Maps? Maps of time?” It was the one with the two helpers in its midriff. “Do have any with you?”

Sahrin noticed that the two midgets were following the conversation. They saw her looking at them, and the female broke her gaze and whispered something to the male.

Sahrin realized that these people, or whatever they were, were in trouble, and anything that could help them would be of interest. But what, exactly, was their predicament?

“No, the maps are on the ship. And I don’t know where the ship is,” she added quickly, wanting to end this line of conversation.

“Your vessel… it doesn’t work on electricity or magnetism, does it?” asked Obirin.

“I don’t know those words,” she replied, quite truthfully. “What are they?”

“What powers your ship?”

“The currents… the wind… in time, and space…” She was hesitant, not sure how to describe it. “Why is this important?” she asked. No one answered her. They whispered amongst themselves, and after a few seconds appeared to reach some agreement. The one with its head sunken into its chest turned towards her.

“It seems to us, it does, that it might be good for everyone if you knew just what was happening, and what is planned. Yes. It could be useful; well,
you
could be useful. We know you are telling the truth, or rather Distere knows you are telling the truth…” He indicated the woman with the ostrich legs. She was slumped in her seat, her eyes half-closed, head tilted in Sahrin’s direction. A low thrumming noise came from her throat. The whites of her eyes flickered, and Sahrin saw the pupils behind the half-lowered lids, glazed over, looking at something that didn’t exist. Something both far away and very close.

The one with the carved skin and the dwarf were rising from the table.

“These two are going to get some items that we need,” continued the sunken-headed one. “They won’t be long. No, they won’t. While they’re gone, come for a walk with Obirin and Distere and myself, and we’ll explain what we can to you.”

The dwarf and the one with the chiseled skin left, the dwarf hurrying to keep up with the long strides of the other.

Sahrin followed the headless one out through the open side of the building, down to the shoreline. Obirin and the ostrich woman followed, talking between themselves.

“Who are you people?” she asked the headless one. If she was going to get involved in the affairs of this collection of misfits (although they seemed to fit in well enough here), she wanted some background.

“A fair question. And since you’re not a native of this planet yourself, the answer will not offend or shock you. No, it won’t. We are the refuse, the rubbish left over from experiments in genetics and breeding that were undertaken many thousands of years ago. The aim of the program was to create humans. A slave class.”

“The experiments were undertaken by my species,” said Obirin, speaking aloud. “The Nefilim are accustomed to having the upper hand. A long time ago, my race was the dominant one on this planet. That is not a fact that is generally known, but there are humans that are aware of it, although they keep quiet about it. Those who would speak out are discouraged from doing so. It is in no one’s interest for real history to be widely known. It seldom is.”

“I know a little about the Nefilim from my travels,” said Sahrin. “Your adventures in the distant past have left you with a reputation. From what I’ve heard, you made sure that you got what you wanted. Ruthless and warlike, according to the stories.”

“True enough,” replied Obirin. “Most of our race regard war and conquest as noble occupations. But to return to the point… As you know, this planet, Earth, is a special one, in that it is part of the system which contains our own home planet. And there was no intelligent life here when our race first arrived, over two million years ago.”

They stopped. Obirin sat down on the sand. Sahrin stood at the water’s edge, enjoying the way the water played over her toes. The ostrich woman stood a little distance away, her eyes closed. The one with no head walked into the water, moving out so that it reached up to its knees.

“The Nefilim plan to re-establish their control of this planet. Obirin has told us that you know about the discovery of the photon belt twenty eight thousand years ago, and how many of the Nefilim put themselves into suspension so they could be here when it arrived. However, there is more to the story than just that.”

“The last time the Nefilim had a real presence on Earth was more than two hundred thousand years ago. It was at that time that their slave class, the humans, got out of control. There was a rebellion, encouraged by some elements of the Nefilim for their own purposes; they wanted to have the power here all to themselves. It took a long time, and there was much bloodshed and suffering, but the rebellion was finally successful. Contact with Marduk was broken. Once the planet’s orbit had taken it out of the solar system, safely away from Earth, humanity turned on the Nefilim that had helped them to rebel.”