Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 98
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Chapter 10: Latticework
LATTICEWORK is a collection of short stories, thus is chapter 10 in fact a full story - Gordon Grey. It's quite lengthy, but do enjoy :)
A latticework creates a mesmerisingpattern, to please the eye and draw the onlooker closer. Emotional lattices connectstrands to amplify the human experience; our melancholy, our mistakes, and ourresidual power.
Fourteen lattices by a diverse author makesLatticework an occult treat, worthy of fans who dip into the disturbing anddiabolical. This collection of soulful tales embodies the macabre and themetaphysical, with insights so serrated it cuts to the marrow.
Lattice 10
A man requires diversion.
HERE WAS Aman who had just lost the woman he loved and he was now either suicidal orhyper aggressive. This man was a king, although uncrowned. This man was asorcerer, although unwilling in the talent. This man was of another race,although he passed for human with his fair hair and grey eyes.
This man sought distraction. Now.
He went to Lax, that underbelly world of crime andcorruption, and the one who nominated himself as this man’s personal guardaccompanied him. The companion appeared less human, for his eyes were tawny.
They arrived together in a public square with their swordsdrawn, for here one had to be ever wary. Twilight fell soon after their appearance,but did not hide the squalor. The place was filthy with rubble lying inuncaring piles, and it stank of piss and dead rats.
Dark blotches on the cracked concrete paving exposed thesites of murder. There were many blotches. Not a building front on the squarewas whole; every façade showed the jagged teeth of broken glass and splintereddoors. Lax had been in decline for generations.
The public area seemed deserted, but stealthy soundrevealed they were marked.
“My Lord, why here, this cesspit?”
“Here there is no status between us, and I am therefore notyour lord, understood? Say it again in the wrong place and we’re both dead. Ifanyone asks, your name is Adrian and mine is Timothy. We have no other names,understood? Why here? Challenge.” Timothy lifted his sword to point it. “Fourof Lax’s lowlife behind you.”
Adrian swore under his breath and whirled around. There wereindeed four scrawny, scruffy men hurtling at him. No doubt they regarded twostrangers as easy targets. The first and second went down via dagger - healways has a blade in each boot - and the third had his teeth knocked outbefore he even looked at his fallen companions. The fourth rushed forward and tooka hit in the jaw that laid him out cold.
Adrian, his breathing even, said, “What are you trying toprove?”
“Nothing, and that would be the point. I seek distraction.The only expectation here from anyone is how long one can survive. Black andwhite. Live or die.” Timothy closed in and clasped his companion’s shoulder.“Let us find the principal criminal in this hole and force upon him a change ofheart. This dump requires cleansing. Are you with me?”
A brother in arms to a king? Adrian nodded. He would notmiss this for anything.
Timothy grinned and together they set off into theunderbelly of Lax.
A FEW MONTHS ago a friend went about the taverns of another place,stating that decent folk were ever willing to open up to a healer. Recallingthat as he and Adrian ducked into a basement drinking-hole, Timothy reflectedthat it will be almost impossible to find anyone decent on Lax, and he doubtedthey knew what a healer was now. Lax had too long been in the grip of crime.Here the intent behind his sword would have to open them up.
The place was disgusting, stinking like an open sewer, andit was crammed with silent patrons. Vacant eyes stared into filthy tankardsfilled with diluted ale. Ugly whores sat together at a table staring at brokennails; no one paid them any heed and they did not attempt to solicit attentions.It was an eye opener; Laxians clearly possessed little in the way of hope.
“Gods,” Adrian muttered behind him.
Wrong. Here there were no longer gods, other than the godof absolution found in a flat tasteless brew.
“Who do I have to kill to put a smile on your faces, evenif just for an hour?” Timothy demanded of the room at large.
Heads swivelled immediately, and hands convulsively grippedtankards as if afraid he would take them away.
Nobody said anything.
Timothy sauntered in and sat at the whores’ table. Passingcoin to Adrian, he said, “Get these lovely ladies a decent drink. Ask forwhatever is the most expensive.” He studied the women as Adrian moved off. “Ihave never seen a stranger sight in my life. This is place for fun, not so? Yethere is no movement, no music, no laughter …”
“Shut up, mister,” the woman opposite him hissed. “You’llget us all killed.”
Timothy leaned back. “Talk costs nothing.”
The same woman made a disbelieving sound. “Where you from,idiot? Talk is expensive.”
Ah. They were afraid to say even the most basic things, incase someone had been paid to listen.
“Who pays the most for information?” he asked.
“Why do you want to know?” a thin man at the bar countered.
“I think a change in paymaster is due,” Timothy shrugged.
“You want to take his place?” the man demanded.
A laugh. “Friend, look at my face. See my companion overthere. Does it seem likely we’ll remain long in this shithole?”
“I’ve heard of men like you,” the whore muttered. “You comehere looking for a badass to kill, to prove you’re not as soft as your cleannails and sweet-smelling skin suggests.” She stared at him. “Most end up deaderthan the rats in a cooking pot.”
Adrian returned with the drinks, shoving the tray onto thetable. “Not sure if one can call this decent. Bottoms up, ladies.”
The whore snorted and looked away. Not one of the womentouched the offering.
An old man at the bar cleared his throat once, twice. “Trythe Precinct two blocks up. The Grey stronghold. Someone should cut the headoff that snake. Maybe we’ll get a breather before the next viper comes along.”
“Shut up!” thin man hissed.
Timothy stood and in a low voice said to Adrian, “Watch thedoor. Someone’s going to run with this to said snake.” Aloud he said, “I need aname.”
“He said too much already,” the thin man snarled. “You haveenough from us. Go away.”
Peripherally, Timothy noted Adrian slipping out aftersomeone. The rat, no doubt. He bowed mockingly. “Thank you for your time.”
Outside dusk was a memory. The dark hid more furtivemovements, but he ignored that for Adrian, who had hold of a skinny young man.Scars marked the youth’s face. Someone once played butcher on him.
“What now?” Adrian asked.
“Get a name.”
Adrian stared at him, and hauls the man into deeperdarkness. The sound of meaty thuds and terrible groans followed. And then therewas the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground.
Adrian returned flexing his fingers. “He’ll be out tillmorning. The name is Gordon Grey.”
“Good. Now to get into this Precinct.”
“This is your definition of distraction? Why are you reallydoing this?”
“If there’s a real answer to that, I can only tell youafter.”
TIMOTHY LAUGHED helplessly when he and Adrian were thrown into awindowless room. Both had bloody noses, puffed eyes and cheeks. Both had brokenskin over knuckles, results from the brawl for entry. Both had lost allweapons. Neither used sorcery as coercion.
“Gods, I haven’t had to fight like that in a century,”Timothy laughed.
Adrian muttered under his breath.
Timothy laughed harder. “Where’s your sense of fun?”
“Don’t see the point. What now?”
“They’ll let us stew here for a while and then hit us withsomething more, and then they’ll take us to this Gordon Grey. We accept ourpunishment. We wait.”
GORDON GREY WAS a tall man. Grey indeed, yes, as in hair, but not old. He worean expensive silk suit, although multiple gold chains around his neck somewhatspoiled the effect. He awaited them inside a glass cube squatting in an emptywarehouse.
Bright halogens bathed the whole in absolute light. Timothyand Adrian, after suffering yet another beating, were stripped naked, bundledinto sacks with holes for arms and head, and hauled here in chains after daysof waiting.
Four guards dragged them into the transparent cell.
“Remove their chains,” Grey commanded.
Two did so and left, taking the restraints with them. Therewas a whoosh of sound - the cube sealed.
Sitting comfortably with one leg crossed over the other,Gordon Grey impaled them with ice blue eyes. He did not speak and neither didthey. A half smile appeared and he lifted a remote control. Wordless, hepressed a button on the device.
The remaining two guards instantly gargled and gripped attheir throats, eyes bulging. Timothy and Adrian drowned in otherworldly sounds,and belatedly realised the man had at the command of a finger removed oxygenfrom the sealed chamber. They proceeded to swiftly mimic the actions behindthem.
“Ah, so,” Grey murmured.
He set the control down and watched the two guards die inthroes of agony, eyes flicking curiously over his two prisoners, watching themattempt to follow. An eyebrow lifted.
Timothy straightened from an ‘agony’ crouched to tapAdrian’s arm. Together and stoically, they faced the man.
Gordon Grey pressed another button that restored breathableair to the space. “If you are able to withstand lack of air, there is somethingspecial about you.”
“We are not human. We possess added biology that allows forbreathing of foul air, even vacuum,” Timothy revealed.
“Ah, not human. Intriguing. Explains how you seemed not tomind the lack of water.”
Besides the repeated beatings suffered in the other place,they were left without water and food.
“We minded. We simply hold out longer than humans areable,” Adrian said.
“Interesting. You are perfect for the task I have in mind …but I do wonder what leverage I have to force you to my will.”
Timothy spread his hands. “The truth.”
Gordon Grey fiddled with the chains around his neck.“Explain that.”
“You are not like us and yet lack of air did you no harm. Ashield? A witch’s charm? This is knowledge. We would do your bidding for that truth.”
Adrian turned his head to look at Timothy in some surprise.Really?
Grey stared at them, and then selected a button on hisdevice that opened the glass wall, and told the other guards to remove thedead. In silence they did so. Once they left, he resealed the transparent box.
“Sit. Let us deal.”
Potato sacks that ended mid-thigh did not conceal all bitswhen sitting, but Timothy and Adrian sat as if decently covered on the glassfloor, ignoring the cold that travelled instantly from anus to neck.
“One completes the task. One stays. A report of successfrom one secures the release of the other.”
Timothy shook his head. “No.”
Adrian again looked at Timothy.
Grey realised who the leader was and pointed at Adrian. “Hegoes.” He shifted the finger to Timothy. “You stay.”
Gordon Grey’s prisoners merely stared at him.
“What is your name, soldier?” he barked.
“Adrian.”
Grey’s attention returned to Timothy. “If he’s the soldier,you’re the captain. What’s your name?”
“Timothy.”
“Single epitaphs?”
“Generally.”
“Why are your eyes different?” Grey asked of Adrian.
“We’re not human.”
“Where are you from? What are you?” Grey demanded ofTimothy.
“Another place. Another race.”
“I’ll allow that to pass for now. How did you come here?Few ships now land on Lax and I am aware of every passenger. Why are you here?”
“We transported in and we seek diversion.”
Again Adrian glanced at Timothy. “We?” he mutters. “This isall about you.”
Timothy winked at him.
“Transported,” Gordon meanwhile echoed. “You are sorcerersand that means I have no leverage strong enough to waylay you, do I? Holdingone of you as a hostage achieves exactly nothing.” He tapped his chinthoughtfully. “Although it does occur to me that you could be claiming thetalent in order to wrong-foot me.”
Timothy and Adrian both shrugged.
“Prove it,” Grey snapped.
Timothy lifted a hand. A moment later he was properlydressed in breeches, tunic and boots. A moment after, Adrian was likewisecovered. Adrian sighed his relief.
“Ah, so. Very practical of you. Are you able to kill a manmerely by lifting a hand?” Grey challenged.
“We have no need of hand gestures; I employed it only tosignify I am the one achieving the manipulation,” Timothy said. “And, yes,killing is as easy as dressing.”
“Prove it.”
There was no movement inside the cube, but outside of itevery guard in attendance collapsed. “They are not dead, merely temporarilyparalysed,” Timothy said. “I am not a murderer.”
“I am the vulnerable one in this cube right now,” Greymurmured, “and I suspect you allowed yourselves to be captured to get to me.Are you here to kill me?”
“Cut the head off the snake, yes,” Timothy said, withoutexpression. “Lax is a dump. Had I the time, I’d cleanse this entire planet.”
Adrian shook his head. “He has a shield.”
“Hmm. I must therefore alter my strategy,” Gordon Grey said.“I seek to keep my head and I have nothing to offer you as a bribe, exceptthis; I am able to offer a man seeking distraction some serious diversion. Itinvolves my shield.”
An eyelid flickered over a grey eye. “Speak,” Timothy said.
BEYOND THE RUINS of the city lay more ruin. It was a stretch of open landbetween cities, but was as rubble filled. In fact, it was hard to call it‘land’, as it was almost impossible to tell where the city behind ended and thenext one began. Once this was farmland, but those days were over. Crime andevery kind of perversity now paid for food brought in from other worlds.
In the midst of shattered masonry and rusted girders,wrecked vehicles and broken toilet bowls, there was a concrete platform GordonGrey kept cleared of rubbish and the sneaky lowlifes of Lax. This was hisprivate landing place for his small shuttle, an expensive and swift littlecarrier able to skim the surface. There were no longer traversable roads onLax. A bunker alongside was guarded every moment of every day and night.
Grey led Timothy and Adrian across the small concourse andinto the secure shelter.
They were airborne soon after.
An hour later they landed in the hills to the south. Theslopes on both sides of the landing pad teemed with movement.
As they alighted, Grey said, “They dig for diamonds. Soonthese hills will be flattened and manmade piles of rock and soil will taketheir place.” He shrugged. “This is not why we’re here. Come with me.”
Leading the way, he strode towards a bunker similar inevery way to the one they left from.
Inside were shelves laden with small jagged rocks.
“Possible diamonds,” he said, waving airily over the array.
In back was a strong room, but it was for something otherthan a collection of crystals confirmed as valuable.
“There.” Gordon Grey remained at the door as if afraid ofentering.
Timothy shifted past him to an oblong cabinet. Adrianjoined him and together they studied the contraption. It appeared much like acoffin standing on its foot.
“Apparently the material is onyx and the trims are ofplatinum,” Grey murmured behind them.
“A master craftsman made this,” Adrian said.
“A long, long time ago,” Timothy added. He glanced over hisshoulder. “All you did was touch it, you say, and after you noticed how usuallyfatal situations no longer affected you?”
A nod from the doorway.
“You attempted to open it?” Adrian asked.
“Of course. Nothing works.”
Timothy turned. “Why are you afraid of this, Grey? It’sprobably no more than a long sealed coffin.”
“It’s unnatural. While I like that I am invincible rightnow, I’m afraid that when the effects desert me I’ll be left a husk. I am alsowary of something able to achieve this much by virtue of touch alone. Open it.Negate its power. And if you cannot, please take it away. We have discovered itwill not move either.”
“How did it get here? Where did you find it?” Timothy asked.
“It was buried in the hill back there and we were able tolift it easily, but once we set it down here, it would not again budge. I’vehad experts in, a costly exercise, but it remains a mystery.”
Timothy laid a hand upon the stone.
“Now you are invincible,” Grey murmured.
Adrian snorted. “He is already that, idiot.”
Timothy placed an ear against the coffin. He took a stepback a moment later and grasped the handle set to the right. If it looked likea door, open it, not so? He pulled.
“My Lord!” Adrian blurted.
The thing opened.
Gordon Grey slumped to the cold concrete floor, a gracelessthump.
Dust billowed from a dark interior. The smell of antiquitywafted out also.
“Here is an answer for you, Adrian,” Timothy said, staringinto the empty blackness. “I rely too much on my power and status, and othersrely on me being there for them with these talents at my fingertips. This is amultiple pedestal I must one day topple from. The woman I love threw me offhers, and I shall crawl on my knees to secure her regard once more. You beginto notice how yours for me is constructed of clay rather than stone. I am a manalso, after all. The man just opened this door.”
“My Lord?” Adrian was at a loss.
“Anyone can expose this, if of the will to do so. MisterGrey over there didn’t really seek the truth bared and thus it resisted him.Reality has now paralysed him.”
“What is the truth?” Adrian whispered.
Timothy smiled over his shoulder. “The truth is that we areall of created of mistakes and experience and the people who move through ourlives. Some teach us new ways, others remove from us our energy.” He returnedto his study of the empty coffin. “The truth is that fear is not real. It is aconstruct of the mind.”
Timothy reached out and closed the onyx door. He murmuredinaudibly.
It vanished. Gordon Grey had his wish granted. Negate it orvanish it - both granted.
“It is time now to leave this place,” Timothy said.
Adrian gestured at the senseless Grey. “What about him?”
“When he awakes he will believe his ‘shield’ removed and hewill proceed with caution for some while. For a time he will desire to know whothis ‘lord’ is, the one a soldier inadvertently revealed to him just now, butsoon he must face the truth of his vulnerability in a crime-ridden society.Perhaps that truth will drive him off planet or the belief of weakness will seehim dead within days. It’s up to him.”
“We’re just leaving him? You wanted to …”
“What I wanted to achieve in the name of diversion is nolonger relevant. We’re leaving him, yes, for his fate is his to decide. We areeach of us responsible for a path taken.”
“And Lax?”
Timothy smiled; a cold grimace. “Lax will be dealt with, intime, once our priorities change. Let’s go home, my friend. I have amends tomake.”
August 12, 2023
Writer's Inspiration: Light body
I'm sure other writers do the same or something similar, but here's my 'thing'. I have a file called 'Other tales and ideas' and in it I dump images and sayings etc that serve to inspire me, and maybe one day I'll write a story or ten based on what I collect. If I don't, that's okay - they inspire me in other ways. Below are a few images from LIGHT BODY. This is a story I'd like to write … one day.
