Lucifer's Lottery - Edward Lee [14]
“I believe, sir, that Rot-Port is the most active harbor in the Mephistopolis, and the largest guarded District along the Gulf of Cagliostro.”
“You’ve learned well,” Buyoux approved, “for that is quite true. It’s the most elaborate Port District in the city.” Now the Grand Sergeant eyed Favius narrowly. “Speculations?”
An excited hush caught in Favius’s armored chest. “It must be the Bloodwater of the Gulf itself that the Engineers mean to fill this Reservoir with . . .”
Buyoux nodded, arms crossed as he looked out. “And it’s no stretch to assume. Rot-Port is guarded nearly as well as Satan Park and the very domain of Lucifer’s new manse. If any District is impervious to insurgent meddling, it is there. Therefore, we may well have the answer . . . or at least half of it.”
Favius understood at once. “Yes, Grand Sergeant. The other half being this: what purpose could there be in tapping six billion gallons of the Gulf and pumping it here?”
Yes. All at once, like a bomb going off, it made perfect sense now, but that only left the even more bizarre question.
“Until that is answered, soldier, we can only tend to our tasks—to the death, if need be—and wait.” Buyoux’s voice ground lower. “At least we’ll have something to ponder until the time comes when our Great Dark Lord deems that we should know.”
Favius felt an ecstatic privilege having the conclusion shared with him. Joy was little felt here—save for the joy of serving Satan—but now he’d been blessed with a joy greater even than that of slaughtering the innocent.
“Our respite is finished now, good servant,” Buyoux said and took back the Glasses.
“Thank you for bestowing me the honor, Grand Sergeant . . .”
“You deserve it.” Again, Buyoux’s voice declined in volume. “There are great wonders afoot, here, there, all about. And we are privileged to be a part of it.”
“Yes, your Wretched Eminence!”
Buyoux seemed to pause, suddenly taken by the Conscript’s adornments on his arms and face. “Tell me, just how many women and children did you kill in Angle-Land?”
Favius paused. “I . . . never kept count, sir. Hundreds, I’m sure.”
“But what of the men?”
“They were hobbled and enslaved, then forced to build fortifications until they dropped.”
“Then why not do the same to the women and children?”
“It was viewed as too great a risk, Grand Sergeant. Better to butcher the women so that their wombs may never bear future enemies, and better to butcher the children so that they may never grow to adulthood to raise a sword against Rome.”
Buyoux’s scabbed brow rose. “My. You are quite a killer . . .” He patted Favius’s armored back. “And soon, by the grace of the Morning Star, you may be killing again.”
Favius snapped to attention. “I live to serve Lucifer!”
Buyoux, hands behind his back, began to walk away. “And, Favius? Mind your tongue.”
“I would halve myself with a halberd before I would betray a confidence, Grand Sergeant!”
Buyoux, still smiling, raised his left forearm. “Until we meet again, hail Satan . . .”
“Hail Satan!”
Favius brimmed in the news of his departing commander. Yes! There IS hope . . . What else might the Grand Sergeant have implied of the future? But as he turned to ponder this question he found himself staring down at the rampart’s stone floor . . .
He stared.
The shining black surface of basalt shined like polished obsidian; and in that reflection he peered at the adornments of his Oath in the Brigade.
The prideful thought slipped into his head: Praise to Lucifer. My adornments look so much better than the Grand Sergeant’s . . .
Indeed. Onto nearly every square inch of Favius’s body had been grafted the severed face of a murder victim, the Human Damned, the face of a species of Demon, a Hybrid, a Troll or Imp—it didn’t matter.
Favius liked his modifications, especially those most recent. Onto each cheek had been grafted the face of a butchered demonic newborn babe.
(III)
Gerold rolled out of the downtown library, into stifling heat.
Jesus . . . Between Florida’s high temperatures and the outrageous humidity, he felt as though he’d just rolled