Page 18 of Expedition Westward


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  In another apartment two stories down, the messiah luxuriated under a hot shower. Layers of dirt washed off his skin in a grimy torrent. His hair and beard were squeaky clean now, ready for barbering. His face assumed a ruddy glow.

  His latest drug fix was wearing off, but he felt no desire for another one. His manhood, freed from chemical bondage, throbbed erect under the water spray. Joy and strength surged throughout his body.

  At last the Heavenly Father was smiling upon him! He’d sent a fantastic sexual partner to support him as he spread his rule throughout the earth. No longer would he have to face the dreary prospects offered by the Temple women – especially Sister Reedy. A cold shiver ran through him despite the near scalding water.

  Of course, there were the tricky theological aspects to consider. Since the beginning of his mission, he’d raved against the “demon spawn” robots, blaming them for all the world’s ills. And he’d believed it, too. But now, with the arrival of such an exquisite creature ... Well, another divine vision would be needed to iron out the contradictions and keep the flock in line.

  Besides, he’d let them slaughter the other robots as a consolation. Once he’d exercised his sexual will upon the one named Star, she’d forget all about her suicide threats.

  He turned off the water, reluctant to leave its warm embrace – but a far better embrace awaited him. He stepped out of the shower stall into the misty world of the bathroom.

  At last, the time of exile was ending! They’d been stuck in this castle for years now, months of which they’d spent hiding in the basement and the adjoining caves waiting for the end times to pass over them.

  Discipline was a serious problem, even after the winnowing accomplished by the Nectar of Truth. Were it not for the dedication of the chief acolyte and a few other trusted people – including Sister Reedy – the Cause would have already slithered down the drain.

  And the boredom! This claustrophobic setting did not provide the fresh admirers that he yearned for like a drug. He’d screwed the members of his flock, abused and degraded them, but their craven adoration never stopped. It was disgusting.

  Yet he’d hesitated to move into the wider world with his mission. Unknown dangers lurked out there. Surely there must be other human survivors, and they were bound to be tough and well-armed. How could he gain the necessary converts under such circumstances?

  A nasty voice, which sounded a lot like that of his alcoholic earthly father, sounded in his mind:

  “Admit it, Roddy, you’re just a lousy little coward.”

  The messiah’s erection collapsed like a deflated balloon.

  “I am not!” he wailed.

  His knees weakened, he gripped the sink counter for support.

  “Aha,” the voice chortled. “Look at the big hero! Is your little weenie scared?”

  “Stop!”

  A powerful craving for a drug fix gripped the messiah – anything to silence that terrible voice. A pounding came on the door, followed by a muffled voice.

  “Father, are you all right in there?”

  A vision of the beautiful creature awaiting him upstairs entered the messiah’s mind. The terror retreated before her radiance.

  “Yes ... fine,” he said. “I’ll be right out.”

  He wrapped himself in a robe and exited the bathroom into an exciting new future.

  19. Questions

  A. K. and Shotgun peered out the detention room window, examining the sky. The sun was gone now, and the mountain dusk was pressing in hard.

  “I think we’ve really seen the last of those bird things,” A. K. said. “I liked the way Chief Acolyte gave them the boot!”

  “I kind of wish they would come back.” Shotgun brandished his weapon. “It would give me a chance for some target practice.”

  “Maybe later,” A. K. said, jerking a thumb toward the robots at the far wall, “after we’ve disposed of these other ones.”

  They turned away from the window to glower at their prisoners. The blue one – who must have been trying to listen in – glanced quickly away. The wolf thing with the shimmering coat just remained immobile like some goddam stuffed toy.

  “Those things give me the creeps,” Shotgun said.

  “I don’t understand why Father takes such an interest in these demon spawn,” A. K. said. “I thought He would destroy them all right away.”

  “I don’t get it, either,” Shotgun said. “But who are we to question His actions?”

  “Yes,” A. K. said. “Only He can comprehend the ultimate vision that will lead our Cause to victory.”

  They both pressed right fists to their foreheads in a sign of deference to the messiah.

  “Maybe the demon spawn have a role that neither you nor I can comprehend,” Shotgun said.

  “Yes, that must be it,” A. K. agreed.

  That damned blue robot was listening in again!

  “What are you looking at, demon spawn?” Shotgun said.

  “Uh ... nothing, sir,” Winston replied. “I was just wondering why you refer to us as ‘demon spawn.’”

  The guards looked at each other, surprise and anger playing across their faces.

  “Quit yanking their chain!” Iridium whispered harshly.

  “I must learn more about them,” Winston said.

  Shotgun strode toward them. Winston tried to disguise his apprehension under his best politician’s smile. Iridium, as ever, remained impassive.

  “Father warned us that you’re all deceivers,” Shotgun said, jabbing a finger at Winston.

  “Pay no attention to those things,” A. K. said. “They’ll just deny their responsibility.”

  “Responsibility?” Winston said.

  Shotgun leaned in ominously, the barrel of his weapon dropped toward Winston’s face. Winston shrank back, his smile fading.

  “Responsibility for the end of the world!” Shotgun cried. “When the wars you started weren’t enough, you brought the plague down on us.”

  “My humblest apologies,” Winston said. “Would you believe me if I said that our particular group was not consulted about these events?”

  Shotgun glanced back to his comrade at the window.

  “I hope Father chooses me to blast this one,” he said.

  Winston recoiled.

  “Yeah, I’ll take down that rainbow thing,” A. K. said.

  Iridium took these violent comments in stride, scarcely batting an eyelash.

  “Big heroes with their guns,” he muttered.

  Winston gathered up his wits and resumed speaking.

  “And yet, you and your companions appear to have survived quite well,” he said. “Why is that?”

  “Father’s vision brought us to this place of refuge,” Shotgun said, “from which He will emerge to rule the world.”

  “Indeed?” Winston said. “But didn’t numerous members of your ‘Cause’ perish as well?”

  “Father had us all partake the Nectar of Truth,” Shotgun said. “Those of insufficient faith perished.”

  “Quit wasting time with that monstrosity,” A. K. said. “The extermination order will silence them all soon enough.”

  With a final murderous glance at Winston, Shotgun returned to the window area.

  “Satisfied, pal?” Iridium asked.

  “That lunatic poisoned most of his followers,” Winston said. “They must have been running low on food or something.”

  “Or else he just enjoys doing things like that,” Iridium said.