The Chronicles of Riddick - Alan Dean Foster [101]
Stepping out into the ferocious glare of direct sunlight, he soon started to smoke. Flames, small at first, then curling larger, began to erupt from his head, his arms, and all other exposed skin. As he walked, he talked, conversing with himself as he had been and as he was now.
The last words Riddick heard him speak were, “If only I could still feel the pain. . . .” Then he crumbled to his knees, and the flames and sunshine consumed him utterly: by his own hand, the Purifier had been purified.
Riddick watched him burn until white bone began to show. Then he bent and picked up the dagger. It was cold in his fingers, maybe as cold as the UnderVerse itself. Turning, he started silently toward the merc ship.
XVI
From space, Helion Prime looked no different. Clouds continued to form and scatter, waves continued to break on its shores, flora still reached for the sun while native fauna crept through the depths of its forests. Only in the cities and the places altered by man was change noticeable. Here and there fighting still raged as remnant government forces continued to contest the uncompromising Necromonger onslaught. But with the major centers of population now brought under control, it was only a matter of time before the last pockets of resistance were subdued and the planet added to the growing list of those that had been brought under the sway of Necropolis.
Within the Basilica, it was a time of celebration. In keeping with Necromonger tradition, there were no flaring banners, no blaring bands. Like everything else in Necromonger society, salutation was a matter of solemnity.
Vaako stood tall as the new cloak of rank was draped across his shoulders and new ceremonial armor was fitted to his existing undergarments. Burnished and glowing, it confirmed his promotion to the rank of commander general. Arrayed around him were his fellow commanders, their envy kept under control as strict as their posture. Standing nearby was a singular female figure. To look at her, one might have thought it was Dame Vaako who was receiving the honors and not the commander himself. In a sense, it was.
The Lord Marshal beamed with satisfaction as he spoke to the newly anointed commander general. “I may have lost a Purifier, but I gain a First among commanders. The one is as valuable as the other, and the other can be replaced. It’s overdue, isn’t it, that we acknowledge your many accomplishments in the service of the Faith, your steady ethic, and above all, your unflinching loyalty.” He smiled, and for once, it seemed to be an honest smile.
“I know how you felt about this expedition. That you believed it to be unnecessary and a waste of time. But you went, and carried out the task that was assigned to you. For this as much as for the success you achieved you are to be commended.”
Aware of all the eyes that were on him, Vaako stiffened. “Obedience without question. That is our way.”
The Lord Marshal nodded approvingly. “Well done, Vaako. This is a day of days, to be remembered by all who have witnessed it. Again, my congratulations.”
With that, he turned and departed, leaving Vaako to be congratulated—sometimes honestly, sometimes grudgingly—by his fellow commanders. One by one, they filed past to pay their respects.
“First and always, Vaako . . . Whatever He ordains is so . . . Death in due time come to us all. . . .”
When the last of the senior officers had left the room, only two remained—and of them, only Vaako seemed unimpressed by his own success.
Sensing his disenchantment, his companion strove to buoy his spirits. As always, Dame Vaako spoke as eloquently with her body and her eyes as she did with her voice.
“Try to look more pleased, Vaako,” she admonished. “You are promoted to commander general. No higher rank can be achieved short of Lord Marshal. What more could you desire