8FOLD: Journey Into # 25, "The Black Spot"

[Tom Russell]

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                "THE BLACK SPOT"
                 BY TOM RUSSELL

[Continuity Note: This takes place well before the first DAYLIGHTERS
arc (#1-6), but, uh, maybe read that first? You've been warned.]

AUTUMN 2014: Seeking allies in its war against THE PULSE COLLECTIVE,
the Earth has sent JULIE ANN JUSTICE and KNOCKOUT MOUSE (Bethany
Clayton) on a diplomatic mission in deep space. Rebuffed by one
civilization after another, they reluctantly turn to KYKLOKOS, the
system-wide war machine that orbits the VAMPIRE SUN...


Bethany presses her face against the cold glass window of the Jackdaw
and stares at the fleet. "You're sure they can't see through our
cloak?"
   "If they could, we'd be dead already," says Julie Ann. "Someone
wanders into their system, they shoot without warning."
   "But once I touch down and present my credentials, it's all hunky-dory?"
   "They're evil, but they're not stupid," says Julie Ann.
"Ambassadors are sacrosanct, even to Kyklokos. So I don't think they'd
try anything."
   "You don't think?" repeats Bethany.
   "I could lie to you, but that's the best I got."
   "Did I mention how much I'm looking forward to this solo mission?"
   "I'd rather be going with you," says Julie Ann. "But I'm the last
survivor of the only planet that's ever dared hit them back. If I'm
there, they'll never hear you out." She touches Bethany's cheek with
her hand; her palm is hot like a stovetop. She can even feel the heat
through the dead part of her face, through the black spot. "I know
this is asking a lot," she says. "But I wouldn't be asking if I didn't
know that you could do this."
   Bethany nods, though she's not entirely convinced. At that moment,
there's a flash of light inside the shuttle, white and intense.
   Spots dance on her eyeballs as the light starts to fade. A blocky
silhouette emerges from the light, like a statue emerging from a hunk
of marble. The shape is vaguely humanoid, the body utterly black,
intensely black, a void - and yet, it glows.
   "Fear not!" cries an echoing, mechanical voice from within the
blackness. "I am not your enemy! I am the One! Alone! The single and
only free thing in all the universe! Untethered, unchained, a being of
pure joy and discovery! I AM MONAD!"
   Bethany blinks. "...'kay. I'm Knockout Mouse."
   "Well met, daughter of Earth," says Monad. She then turns toward
Julie Ann. "Child of Vanirron."
   "Have we met?" says Julie Ann.
   "In a manner of speaking," says Monad. "At least, you are known to
me, Julie Ann Justice. And in truth, it is because of that strange
acquaintance that I sought you out, to give you vital information that
until now has been secret and safe!"
   "I'm listening," says Julie Ann.
   "The Pulse is at war with your adopted planet," says Monad. "This
is known throughout the galaxies. But their true motive is known only
to themselves, and to Monad."
   "It's, it's not Max?"
   "No," says Monad. "It is not your helpmeet who has brought doom
upon the Earth. Rather, he was only a thin pretext. The Pulse want
Earth as a staging ground. First, so as to channel the god-flood into
another universe, and then, to conquer all those that remain. The
multiverse is the true prize, and Earth but a stepping stone."
   "Do you have proof of this?" says Bethany.
   From out of the void, Monad produces a black disc. "This has the
information you need. I have made it compatible with the technology
you call a DVD."
   Julie Ann takes the disc and stares at it. "It's not Max," she says
again quietly. "This might help us back home. I doubt it will change
any minds here in space, though."
   "I wish I could say otherwise," says Monad. "But my travels across
these stars have given me little reason to have faith."
   "Kind of a downer, space robot," says Bethany. "But I think you're
both right. Which means our last chance is Kyklokos."
   "Take care, child of Earth," cautions Monad. "Maledux is a fearsome
and subtle adversary, and even more dangerous an ally. Give me thy
head."
   "I prefer it attached to my body," says Bethany. "I kinda need it."
   Monad reaches out and touches Bethany's forehead. "I have shielded
your mind from him," explains Monad. "He will not pry any secrets from
your brain. I have also taught you the language of his people, so that
you might converse with skill and confidence."
   "Uh, thanks," says Bethany, more than a little weirded out. And
considering she's been punching things semi-professionally for the
better part of seven years now, it takes a lot to weird her out. "I
appreciate it."
   "Now I shall take my leave," says Monad. "For Monad is tied not to
Earth, nor Kyklokos, but only and ever to herself, always alone,
always free!" There is another, brighter flash of light, and when it
fades, she's gone.
   "Well," says Bethany. "That's a thing that happened."

They land on the outskirts of what passes for civilization on Planet
Prime. A beacon is carefully hidden inside the Singularity Gauntlet.
   "I'll be hanging out in orbit," says Julie Ann. "When negotiations
are done, or if you need to get out of Dodge, activate the beacon and
I'll come running."
   Bethany nods. "So, this is it. I'm really doing this."
   "You're really doing this. I believe in you, Mouse."
   That makes one of us, thinks Bethany.

The ground isn't just barren here, but dead: black and cracked-open,
hot and red-veined, with pools of molten lava and lakes of boiling
tar, barely visible against an ash-filled sky. The vampire sun this
planet circles around isn't yellow, or white, or red, but black and
pale. This isn't the first planet that she's been to in the last
couple of months, but it's certainly the most surreal.
   The whole thing is so ridiculous, so over-the-top, so very much a
metal album cover. Something that she can't possibly take seriously.
But here she is. This is a real place, and people really live here,
really die here. Almost immediately, there's something heavy inside
her, like a star collapsing inside her stomach, and she not only feels
an intense loathing for this place, but knows that it hates her right
back.
   It doesn't take long for her to run into a patrol. They're very
much a "shoot first, questions never" sort of fascist xenophobic
military.
   She throws up her hands and shouts at the top of her lungs:
"Maledux! I'm here to see Maledux!" The language is guttural and
harsh, hurts her throat.
   The patrol hesitates, but they keep their weapons pointed at her.
   "A diplomat," says Bethany. "From Earth."
   No change from the patrol.
   But there's another name for our tiny blue planet; Bethany tries
that one. "In the shadow of Venus."
   This gets those weird space-guns pointed away from her face, thank
you very much. A member of the patrol (the leader?) speaks. "We will
take you to Maledux."

The towers that make up his palace are tall and ragged; they look more
like something that grew there than something that was built. It's all
towers; there's no courtyard, no walls. The towers exist at seemingly
random points with no obvious relation to each other. They're not
connected at the ground, but thirty, fifty, eighty feet up, by
suspended, twisting hallways that droop here and there, like strands
of a web weighed down with dew.
   One of the towers is in the center of the web. It's taller than all
the rest - so tall, in fact, that Bethany can't actually see where in
the gray-ash sky it ends - and fatter, too; it could easily contain a
dozen of the others. This, it turns out, is their destination. She's
made to wait outside for a moment.
   It's not the patrol leader that emerges from the tower's cavernous
mouth, but a tall, slender man. His face is snow-white and almost
featureless; the only hair on his head are two furious and bushy
eyebrows. He introduces himself by his title, which roughly translates
to vizier.
   "My lord is engaged at the moment," he says. "But he would be most
pleased if you would join him for dinner in four hours time. You do
eat?"
   "Yes," says Bethany. She reaches into her pocket. The guards take
aim. She holds up her other hand, letting them know to cool their
jets, and then pulls out the dietary pellet. She begins to explain,
but the vizier cuts her off.
   "We're familiar with the process," says the vizier, taking the
pellet. "I'll have this analyzed, and we'll ensure the banquet is both
compatible with your biology, and my lord's palette.
   "In the meantime, we've arranged quarters for you in tower six.
There you'll find a warm bath, a change of clothes if you so desire,
and a bed to rest in. We'll come fetch you when the feast is ready."

It's the first hot bath she's had in weeks. The cozy little spaceship
she's been sharing with Julie Ann isn't set up for such luxuries, and
few of the planets they've visited have rolled out the red carpet for
them. The fact that they've done it here, in this black and red
hellscape of misery and death, makes her more than a little queasy.
   But: the bath is nice and hot. Hot against her skin, a little too
hot, as hot as Julie Ann's palm against her cheek. She wonders, not
for the first time, what it must be like to touch her, and to be
touched by her.
   "Stop it," she whispers bitterly to herself. Julie Ann had been her
favorite hero since she was a kid, had been the whole reason why she
wanted to dress in a costume and run around and punch things. She
apparently mentioned it often enough for Kate to joke that Bethany
must have had a crush, and over the years it had been a running gag
between them. That's all it is - it's not even a real crush, if
Bethany was any straighter she'd be a ruler. The whole thing is
ridiculous. So why doesn't it feel ridiculous? Why does it feel so
serious, so urgent, so painful?
   "Stop it," she says again. Even if it were real - even if it wasn't
a joke that's long-past its expiration date - the fact remains that
Julie Ann is married. She finds herself suddenly enraged at the mere
thought of the man. It's not the first time she's regarded him with
anger and contempt, and in the past there was a reason for it: it was
his fault, after all, this whole mess, blundering the world into an
intergalactic war it didn't seem likely to win.
   But now she knows that isn't true. And yet she's still angry at
him, angrier than she was before. If she's honest with herself, she
hated him even before the war. Because of all the people in the world,
for reasons no one has ever quite been able to articulate, he's the
one Julie Ann chose.
   And it hurts to admit that. To accept that she could be so petty,
and jealous, and irrational. To accept the part of herself that wants
Julie Ann - not as a joke, not as a whimsy, but as deeply and
profoundly as she's ever wanted anything or anyone.
   "I don't even like girls," she mumbles to herself. "Do I?" But
Julie Ann isn't a girl. She's not even a woman, but something closer
to a goddess, so powerful and strange, impossibly warm, impossibly
bright and celestial. Max doesn't deserve her and it drives Bethany
crazy that he's the one in her orbit. Right now she wants nothing more
than to cave his smug face in. She could do it, too; she could punch a
hole in a planet if she wanted to. She can see it clearly: the bones
collapsing around her fist, the bloody mess where his eyes used to be.
She's surprised she never thought of it before.
   Unconsciously, she smiles for a moment with lazy, wicked pleasure.
But only for a moment, because then she sees her reflection, she sees
the smile, and it turns her stomach. "What is wrong with you?" she
asks the reflection. "You're sick!"
   "Oh, hush," says her reflection, much to her surprise.
   Bethany throws her head back. "I need to relax," she whispers to
herself. Not every day that one discusses intergalactic power politics
with an evil space-god over dinner. The thing with Max's face, that's
not like her, that's never been like her. It's stress. She's getting
herself all stressed out and twisted up in knots and that's not going
to do her or the Earth any good.
   The bath is hot - as hot as Julie Ann's palm against her cheek. She
submerges herself, lets the water touch her everywhere, lets Julie Ann
touch her everywhere, giving herself over at last and completely to
her impossible desire.

Maledux is huge - twenty feet tall at least, and maybe twelve feet
wide at the shoulders. His body is as black as the earth of his
planet, cracked open and raw and red beneath. Red face, redder eyes,
at once furious and distant, angry and unknowable. As she enters, the
inscrutable god stares at her a moment, or maybe he stares past her,
looks through her - it's hard to tell.
   A long table sprawls out before her. He sits at one end of the
table, and a chair waits for her at the other. The distance from him
would be comforting, but then she realizes that with his massive arms,
he could easily reach across it and snatch her up if he wanted to.
Sitting on the other end of the table would only provide the illusion
of safety, and while part of her wants to cling to that, another part
tells her that this is what Maledux is expecting her to do. If she
sits at the end of the table, she'd be admitting that she's
intimidated by him. And, yeah, she certainly is, but that's not the
footing she wants to start this on.
   Bethany grabs the chair - it's heavier than she thought it would be
- and with some effort she carries it with her and comes up along the
side of the table. She plops it down some six feet away from Maledux,
then sits herself down.
   Standing next to Maledux is a man about her size. "I am the Voice
of Maledux," he explains in a voice that's deep, gravelly, and
sonorous. "To hear his words from his own mouth is sacrilege. He shall
speak through mine. My mouth is his mouth. My life, his life: for
there is only one life, and that is Maledux."
   Maledux holds up a hand, and servants shuffle in and out.
Appetizers. Bethany tries not to look at them - it's disconcerting
when the food is still writhing - but doesn't mind the taste. This
one's a little like sweet potatoes, that one like fried onions.
   Maledux digs in with abandon, his lips smacking and slurping.
"You're from Earth," says his Voice.
   "Yes," she says. "I am called Knockout Mouse."
   "Knockout Mouse," he says, pronouncing the words phonetically
before switching back to his native tongue: "Earth has made an enemy.
The Pulse."
   "Yes, we have," says Bethany. "I've been told we have that enemy in common."
   Maledux smiles, and it is perhaps the most disconcerting thing
she's seen since she's been here. "You want us to fight the Pulse for
you."
   "I didn't say that," says Bethany. "But will you fight the Pulse with us?"
   "We that live in the light of the Vampire Sun, we are the greatest
and most perfect engine of war ever devised. What is the Earth? Tell
me, has any child of your tiny blue dot ever come as far as you have?
Has Earth conquered any worlds, charted any galaxies? Asking Kyklokos
to fight alongside the Earth is like asking the lions to fight
alongside the ants. It is an insult."
   "I meant no insult. We, we, we," no, not the stammer, not now, get
it together, "Earth is young. Untested. But we do not lack the will to
fight. We will fight for our world. Even now, we marshal our forces,
and we look for ways to bring the fight to the Pulse."
   "Answer me this, child of Earth, and answer honestly: how long
before the Earth can launch its first interstellar warship?"
   She hesitates.
   "How long?"
   "A year." Last she heard that was the best case, fingers crossed,
sunshine and roses, lies we tell the public so they don't freak out,
scenario. More realistic estimates put it at four years, or five.
   He seems to know it, too - something in those merciless red eyes.
"Would you even last a year, I wonder?"
   She frowns at her plate. "No. We won't."
   He holds up his hand again. Plates are removed, and the main course
comes out. Red meat of some sort, and something that she hopes is a
vegetable.
   "Let me save you some time," says the Voice. "You're going to tell
me that Earth is a lush, green world, rich with resources. But
Kyklokos does not need resources - it only needs to feed on other
suns. You're going to threaten me with the wrath of Venus. But we both
know that Earth will be the first to feel that wrath. Perhaps you will
even try to appeal to my better nature. But you know that I have none.
   "Let us be honest with one another," he continues. "You came to
Maledux last, because all others refused you. Because I am your last
and only hope. You are desperate. That gives me all the power in these
negotiations. If you can admit that, we can proceed."
   Bethany hesitates, then shrugs and nods. And in case nodding
doesn't mean anything here, she puts it into words: "Yes. That's about
the half of it."
   "I will declare war on the Pulse. I will turn my billions against
them, opening a second front. I will show your world how to build the
ships you need, and will give you - shall we say six? - solar cannons.
Does that improve Earth's prospects?"
   "It does," says Bethany cautiously. "But what is your price?"
   "The last daughter of Vanirron."
   "Julie Ann."
   "I know you have been travelling with her, child of Earth."
   "The Matriarch of Gavloss tried to sell us out," guesses Bethany.
"To curry favor."
   "Of course she did. Deliver the daughter of Vanirron to me, and
your Earth shall have all you seek."
   "No," says Bethany.
   "No?"
   "No."
   "You do not even consider it."
   "I don't have to," says Bethany.
   "That is my price. If you refuse it, then we have nothing else to discuss."
   Bethany shrugs in an attempt to be casual and indifferent. "Pity, then."
   "Again, my heart has no strings on which to tug. What happens to
your world doesn't matter to me."
   "But it should," says Bethany. "What will happen to Kyklokos after
the Earth has fallen to the Pulse?"
   "Your planet is of no significance."
   "Our planet exists on the fault-lines of the multiverse," says
Bethany. "The Pulse doesn't want the Earth; they want what lies beyond
it. They want to conquer whole universes - all universes." She waits a
moment, giving it time to sink in. "One solar system - even one as
fearsome as Kyklokos - can't stand against a hundred billion
universes, each with trillions of stars. They will crush you like
that." She snaps her fingers.
   "The way I see it," she continues, "if you abandon the Earth to the
Pulse, you only secure your own destruction. We, then, are your last
and only hope. You're the one that's desperate. That gives me all the
power here. So, no, you won't have Julie Ann. And we'll take eight
solar cannons."
   Maledux stares at her in disbelief. He holds up his hand, and the
servants clear the plates. Dessert is next, and it's something that's
disconcertingly similar to ice cream. Before either of them have a
chance to eat it, he bursts out laughing.
   This comes as a shock to his Voice, who struggles to resume the
duties of his office. Seemingly unsure how to proceed, he waits meekly
until his master's bellows of delight fall silent. "Five," he says,
finally.
   "Five?"
   "Five solar cannons," he says. "I cannot spare eight. I need to
keep some if I am to open a second front."
   "Six," presses Bethany. "You offered six before."
   "That was for the daughter of Vanirron. She's worth at least a cannon."
   "She's not for sale," reiterates Bethany.
   "Then it's five cannons. If we are to be allies, there must be parity."
   "Five. Okay. But I want your assurance that you won't come after
Julie Ann, either. That you'll leave her alone."
   Maledux cradles his chin in his massive hand. "Can you guarantee
the same assurance from her? That she'll not interfere in our
affairs?"
   "Yes," says Bethany, turning to her dessert.
   "And the Earth? It likewise will not oppose our campaigns
elsewhere? Once we give your people the ability to travel to distant
stars, they won't stop us from feeding upon them?"
   Bethany stops eating. It's not that she forgot who she was talking
to, or what Kyklokos does. But somehow she had been able to set it
aside, to not think about how many stars they've snuffed out, how many
planets, how many living things. It makes her feel a little sick to
her stomach.
   Then, finally, she speaks. "It's a big universe, Maledux. I think
if your activities give the Earth a wide enough berth, what you do is
your business."
   "How wide is wide enough?" He holds out his hand, palm facing
upward, and from it springs something very much like a hologram. With
his other hand, he points - his finger is thicker than her arm. "Your
planet is here."
   Bethany nods, standing up from her chair. She sweeps her hand to
encompass the Gould Belt. "This ought to do it."
   "Very well. I will give you dominion over those stars."
   "We don't want that. We've no interest in conquest. We just want to
keep our own planet. We just want the Pulse to leave us alone."
   "And there we might have a problem. It is difficult to trust an
ally that only wants peace. Because when peace is proffered, they will
take it for themselves. Then Kyklokos will be alone against the Pulse,
and feel the wrath of their thwarted ambitions. If we are to fight
them together, then we must make peace jointly. The war does not end
until all of our terms are met. Can you promise me that?"
   "I don't have the authority to promise that," admits Bethany. "A
lot of people on Earth are hoping for a quick war. Committing to
something longer, for the sake of - no offense - an evil space-god,
that's going to take some convincing. It would help if we knew what
your goals were, so we can see how feasible, how reasonable they are."
   "I can draw up a list. It will be ready tomorrow morning, when we
resume negotiations. Then you can take it to your people to have it
ratified. I will send along two solar cannons along with plans for
orbital defenses. That should hold the Pulse at bay long enough for us
to formalize our agreement, and show the Earth that I am in earnest."

Bethany returns to her room in the tower, noting with some pleasure
that a fresh bath has been drawn for her. She dips her fingertips
lightly in and out of the water, staring idly at her reflection. The
spot on her face catches her eye, peeking out behind the swoop of her
hair. She bushes the strands aside with the back of her hand, and
stares at her black spot. Her memento from one of her earliest
adventures, when she took down Fiddleback.
   It's not really a spot, more of a jagged little rhombus, and little
ink-black veins stretch out like tendrils. Those tendrils are longer
than they used to be, and the spot bigger. The growth has been so
incremental to be imperceptible, but if you look at a photo from six
years ago, when it happened, and you look at a photo now, you can
tell.
   She doesn't mind it. She did, at first. Back then she hated herself
pretty aggressively, hated her own face, and the ugly splotch of black
on her brown cheek made it easier to do that. But you can't run around
in sexy outfits literally calling yourself a knockout without
developing at least a little residual self-esteem, and eventually the
spot stopped bothering her.
   Well, in that identity, anyway. The thing about the spot is that
it's hard to miss and almost impossible to hide. Bethany Clayton holds
a doctorate in genetics, and her thesis was lauded as the work of a
brilliant and promising scientist. She was headhunted aggressively,
and the offers were quite generous. But she knew that the minute she
stepped into an office for an interview, that her secret would be out.
And so her career - the thing she had been working toward most of her
life - it was dead before it started.
   And that frustrated the hell out of her - it still does. Her
ambitions weren't completely thwarted. She still does some work from
time to time in some lab space she leases from Fay Tarif. And she
wrote a popular, general interest type book on genetics that sold as
well as it could considering she refused to do any press for it. But
that wasn't the same thing, wasn't the life she wanted or had worked
toward.
   When she and Derek were dating, it was the one thing she needed to
vent about. And that was all she needed, was to vent, to get upset
about it and get it out of her system for a while. But Derek's an
engineer, and when you give an engineer a problem, he wants to fix it.
Every solution he suggested, she came up with a reason why it wasn't
right for her. There were arguments, and one night Derek said that she
didn't want the situation to change, that she was just looking for
reasons to be unhappy, that she liked suffering. She screamed her head
off at him, and then stormed out. The next day, she asked Kate and
Melody to pick up her things for her, and they did. She's not angry
with Derek anymore, they get along fine - but she's never forgiven him
either.
   The last solution Derek had suggested was having the black spot
surgically removed. And now that the thing has started to grow and
spread, sometimes she wishes she had. But it would be wrong somehow to
get rid of it. Everyone else who was touched by Fiddleback died from
it. The mark was a reminder that they were dead, and she was alive.
She wasn't better than any of them; just luckier. And she didn't ever
want to forget that.

The black spot is in her dream, of course. Only it's not the spot on
her cheek, but a writhing black fissure in a perfect and endless sea
of pure white. Bethany's not even in the dream at all. She's merely an
observer. The moment she realizes this, the dream shifts, and she's
observing something else, someone else. Julie Ann.
   But it's Julie Ann from twenty years ago. She was sixteen, and
Bethany was almost eleven the first time she saw Julie Ann Justice on
television.
   The dream shifts again, and instead of seeing Julie Ann before her,
now she's seeing her on television, like the first time. Julie Ann is
giving some kind of speech. Her voice is soft and lilting, so bright
and optimistic - nothing like the adult Julie Ann she knows today.
It's hard to follow the speech (hard to follow much of anything in a
dream), but it's about good and evil.
   "What you do matters," says the dream Julie Ann. "Sometimes people
like to pretend that things are complicated, but that's only something
evil people say to make themselves feel better."
   But things are complicated, Bethany wants to say. We can't win
without help. This is the only help we can get. We have to do it for
the sake of the Earth.
   "So many stars," says Julie Ann. "So many lives. And you'll help
him to kill more."
   We didn't have a choice!
   "You made your choice," says Julie Ann. "You chose this."
   This was your idea!, Bethany wants to scream. But Julie Ann can't
hear her; Bethany doesn't exist in the dream at all. "If only I
existed in the dream, I could make her understand."
   And then she sees herself on the television. Or rather, her
reflection, the image flipped, shimmering like water.
   Tell her, she thinks at her reflection. Make her understand.
Instead, the reflection grabs Julie Ann by her hair, and with her
other hand - with the full force of the Singularity Gauntlet - she
smashes her face in. Like Max's.
   "No! No!" says Bethany, and she exists now - now there's only her
and her reflection. The reflection's eyes are red, and the black spot
on its cheek is red. "You're not me," says Bethany to her red self.
"You're Maledux."
   Maledux grabs her by the neck in his massive hand, and lifts her up
despite her kicking and thrashing.
   "There is one life," he says, "and that life is Maledux." It's not
his Voice, but Julie Ann's. It would be faintly ridiculous if it
wasn't so terrifying. "One heart that beats for eternity. I am in the
air, in the food, in the water, in the dark. All is Maledux. And now
you, you are Maledux."
   She struggles to speak, to protest, but then she realizes that she
doesn't have a body at all; there is only Maledux.
   He speaks to himself, and in so doing, speaks to her. "It is good
that you do not resist, child. I am timeless and my hate is infinite.
So long as the Vampire Sun burns and hungers, so do I. Only one
creature poses a threat. And as surely as you love her, by your hand I
shall end her. Now, wake, child; for when you do, your corruption will
be complete."
   There is a flash of light that blinds even Maledux: "Then she shall
slumber a moment more!"
   "Monad," Maledux-Bethany snarls. "She is mine."
   "The child of earth is under my protection."
   "Look into her heart," says Maledux, opening their chest. "It is my
bleak heart that beats."
   "It is a pure heart," says Monad, beams of light flooding into the cavity.
   "It cannot be both," says Maledux. "I am there! I am undeniable!"
   "I deny you, demon!" says Monad. " For there is one fundamental
constant in all the cosmos, that evil heart must beat in time 'gainst
good!"
   Bethany feels herself pitching forward, crumbling to the ground,
holding her hands over the gaping hole in her chest. She looks up at
Maledux, and sees that he is pulling away, receding into the distance.
   "No! No!" the space-god is screaming.
   Monad holds out its hands, a thousand beams of neon light cascading
through the air. "Both bleak heart and pure heart, the two-in-one, the
contradiction! She shall live, and she shall be free, for in her beats
the paradox heart!"
   "The paradox will not last," hisses Maledux. "It would have been
kinder to give her up to me. So fragile a vessel cannot hope to
contain the primordial struggle. It will tear her to pieces. And in
her rapture and her agony, in her beauty and her rage, she shall leave
behind her a broken earth."
   Bethany jerks awake, sweaty and agitated, her heart racing. There
was a dream. Something about Maledux, and Julie Ann, and that weird
space-robot. For a moment, it feels terribly important, like it was
something more than a dream. She tries to hold onto it, to remember
it, but like all dreams, it melts away.


COPYRIGHT 2019 TOM RUSSELL.


AUTHOR'S NOTE

This one is, quite naturally, a direct sequel to JOURNEY INTO # 24,
"The Vampire Sun", published in 2016. Originally everything that
happened here was to happen in that one, but (1) that story was
running long, (2) that was a High Concept Challenge entry, and (3) it
just wouldn't have worked tonally. That story was fairly light and
more about "ooh, look at this neat sci-fi intrigue stuff" and to
suddenly shift to something darker and more introspective would be
quite jarring.
   So that plot stuff got shunted in this issue. I was still working
on rewrites when I was working on the first DAYLIGHTERS arc, which
takes place _after_ this story. I decided that I'd hold off on posting
this one until after that arc, so that the Important Plot Stuff
concerning the Paradox Heart and the Broken Earth could be teased in
those pages, allowing this story to up the stakes and deepen the
mystery as it were. It's similar in this respect to the first MANCERS
arc largely taking place before the DARKHORSE miniseries, but the
DARKHORSE mini came first so as to introduce Rainshade's heel turn,
which the MANCERS arc gives greater context to.
   Which is to say, this is why there's a timeline document, which
will be updated before the next MANCERS arc.