GYGEN-ROMMUS

(excerpt)

    Little Janey knew she shouldn’t play down by the old well. Mommy only told her about a hundred times. “I don’t want you down by that old well, Janey. It’s at the very edge of our dome and it’s not safe.” Of course it was also the most beautiful spot on their land, with lazy hanging vines and chirping birds and plenty of flowers for picking. She had made quite a habit out of disobeying recently, since the change in weather.

    Today she and her dollies were having a picnic. She spent a whole hour this morning preparing little jam sandwiches and muffins in her tiny oven, along with lemonade and gingersnap cookies. Mommy was under the impression that Janey was going to play in the far fields on the other side of the well; she would be occupied all morning with her contracts, so Janey wasn’t worried about being discovered.

    The giant orange sun was growing brightly as she skipped along the forbidden trail. She held a basket under each arm: one containing the nibblies, and the other, the dollies. Across her shoulder she had slung the ImpacTor rifle that she took with her everywhere; it was a present from her mother accompanied by a tense but vague explanation of the “various wildlife one encounters in a concentrated ecosystem.” That was her twelfth birthday, and since then Mommy had allowed her to venture about the property mostly on her own. Still, in Janey’s opinion she asked far too many questions and spent numerous hours inventing paranoid and ridiculous scenarios.

    The well was hidden behind a curtain of eucalyptus trees and creeper vines; beyond them rose the transparent material of the dome wall, which at its highest point blended into the solid blue of the sky. The trees extended in a nearly straight line for 100 feet or more, so she usually picked her way through the vines instead of trying to go around. Each one was thick as her arm, making the task rather difficult. Passage would have been impossible if not for the knife she kept in an ankle holster, allowing her with patience to saw through.

    Once through the fun began. The dollies couldn’t wait to sing songs and exchange gossip. They were also hungry from the long walk.

    She set up the blanket and baskets right at the edge of the well so she could look down it while eating. She arranged her dollies on the other side of the blanket because they were very clumsy and might fall in.

    In the well lived the Shiath – quite a slimy little devil. He was always entreating her to lower the basket down so that he might climb in and ride home with her. She enjoyed listening to his stories of the days before the fires. She wasn’t sure she believed them, but the sound of his voice titillated her.

    “The Demons then were great sssssnakes with shrill calls who tore through the streets, gulping and snapping,” he said. He mentioned them quite a lot – a condition of vanity, she supposed.

    “Did they eat people?” she asked, fingering a curl of her blonde hair.

    “No. That was not their aim – they wanted to intimidate, control – very well-devised and overwhelming. The human world was crippled and powerless. If the Manoks hadn’t taken over, this would still be their domain.”

    Janey gazed upward, to the blue heavens. A gentle breath of forest licked her cheek.

    “I used to boast that one day the humans would run from me, I would make them scream most wretched and desperate, and a madness would infect them from my terrible tongue. Now that I’ve been stuck in here by the Manoks, I’ll never raise my station from the lower demons. A whole century has gone by and they still haven’t come to fetch me.”

    “It’s funny that you can’t even get out of that little well,” Janey replied, passing a cookie to Miss Perkins. Miss Perkins was the eldest of her dollies, frayed and worn from years of picnics and tantrums and catnaps and dress-ups. She munched on the gingersnap with voracious enthusiasm.

    “My little princess,” he breathed, “if you help me I can insure you a place in the new kingdom. No other human shall have such status, such immense power. We will even topple the Manoks, I know how it can be done!”

    “But they’re all the way across the desert in the Capital. Who cares what they do? They don’t ever come to this dome region. And besides, my Mommy works for them. She says that they made everyone happy because now they all have houses and food and can’t get hurt by the bad weather in the outer world. They made the domes, after all!”

    “But aren’t you angry that they invaded your world in secret, waiting for a moment of total anarchy when the Demons had you by the throat, to assume complete power over your entire race? The Demons would have been much better masters. We can teach the art of shape-shifting to any species if we choose. We would share our power with the worthy humans.”

    “There aren’t any more Demons, except you. And you’re tiny.”

    “All I need is the proper food,” came his reply, floating up out of the half-light that permeated the well. His face was barely visible: slitted eyes, teeth like pin-pricks. Panting like a caged animal. “You should be my princess. What sights I could show you…lovely…”

    “Maybe tomorrow. Mommy’s so busy right now she would just despise any guest. Tomorrow is my birthday, so I can bring you up for my party.”

    He looked so sad down there all alone. She threw him a cookie and he ate it while he hiccupped. She thought his hiccups were from hunger instead of rage.

    The sun began its downward glide after an hour or so. Janey always loved the short days because it meant mealtimes were closer together. She bounded up the steep incline on which her house was perched, crooked and leering like a hypnotized beast. She couldn’t wait to tell Mommy about her surprise birthday guest. What a treat this would be! In all her young years she had never been allowed any friends that weren’t manufactured at the homestead.

    The front door was 10’ by 10’ and made of lead, just like the rest of the exterior. She knocked once and it slid open. Once in the foyer, it closed and a dim blue light switched on. The foyer was cylindrical and hummed faintly as the light pulsed thrice in rapid succession. She started singing a gibberish version of “Camptown Races”.

    The inner door uttered a brief chime and opened. She rushed into the mahogany expanse of the front hall, tingling with excitement. “Mommy!” she yodeled in a crackling vibrato. The walls were high and carved with numbing abstract patterns, dimly lit by two hanging globes. Rising between them was a suspended stairway, and here and there were arched doorways from which no light issued.

    “I have a new birthday guest!”

    She leapt up the stairs two at a time like usual, swinging the baskets from her forearms. Her dollies, Miss Perkins, Miss Robespierre, and Miss Jubilee, had offered no opinions whatsoever on her decision to befriend the Shiath; but they probably thought him too slimy and opportunistic. Well, so what? He would probably be quite malleable.

    Little Janey’s room was the first door on the left. She yanked it open and ditched her baskets and rifle. Then she depressed the intercom cylinder on the rear wall and shouted “Mooooooooooooommmmyyyyyyyyyy!!!”

    “I’m in my study, darling, please don’t get excited,” purred a husky voice from the glowing device.

    “What’s for dinner?”

    “If I don’t tell you you’ll have more of an appetite.”

    “But I’m starving!”

    “Mokgluk porridge and gritzam sticks.”

    “Is it time yet?”

    “Mommy loves her patient little Janey. Why don’t you go play with your hypnosis ball?”

    “I’m afraid I’ll get a tantrum.”

    “Well, I suppose the kitchen has it in prep, so it’s only an increment from our bellies. If you stroll down to the table there might be some milk.”

    In the stylish darkness of her cushioned study, Mommy turned back to her desk. Her brow furrowed. She touched her pen to the blank page before her, watching intently the growing stain. After a minute she began to write:

I have done my best to live a life
            full
Of good stories.

    Janey entered the dining room in fit of salivation. As she sat down the table lit up and she clapped her hands amidst slurpy giggles. A portal fitting the exact dimensions of the table’s surface opened in the ceiling and down floated the evening’s meal. Mommy entered a moment later and took her seat opposite Little Janey.

    “I met a new friend today,” Janey blurted out, spittle leaping from her jaw and barely missing the gaseous mokgluk. She then erupted in another fit of giggles, her precious curls undulating against her cheeks. Mommy cleared her throat.

    “Let us say Grace,” she began, “and beg forgiveness for our sins. O Gygen, the Metal Chief,” she intoned heavily, eyes indicating Heaven. “We have offended thee with our pride and industry. We witness the yellow wall of portent shading in divine cascades of radiant grace. Forgive us our common digits.”

    Here she recited the computer code of Ro’chana in a short burst of clicks and squawks. The squawks were longer than the clicks.

    Meanwhile the Shiath was dreaming. His paws twitched, as did his whiskers.

It was a long time ago. The crazy people were charging the city wall, and flames licked the highest towers. Darkness gathered around everything not ablaze. A sea of eyes wondered through Time. The zeppelin of stone soared high above the changed and burning Earth. The ground shook. The snakes were coming.