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Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
As he headed for the kitchen, she said, “The seven mages who championed the Otherness in the First Age. A huge cult grew up around them. They controlled the q’qr hordes. They almost succeeded in bringing this sphere under the domination of the Otherness. The Fhi
“Let me guess who survived,” Jack called from the kitchen as he filled his coffee cup with water. He fought an urge to imitate the Church Lady. “Could his name begin with R?”
“Yes, the Adversary. Unwilling to share power when the Otherness became ascendant, he killed off his six fellow mages one by one until only he remained.”
“And so the Seven became the One,” Weezy said.
“Yes. But the Otherness was defeated, and then came the cataclysm and the end of the First Age, and all of his intrigue and murderous plotting proved for naught.”
Jack returned to the front room and poured some water into the planter.
“Until now,” Weezy said.
“What do you mean?” The Lady caressed the ivy and its leaves immediately plumped up and deepened in color.
“It seems that somehow, some way via Opus Omega, he has succeeded in creating or summoning the Fhi
The Lady stiffened and stared at her. “Via Opus Omega? What do you mean?”
Weezy explained her theory about using the Orsa to create the Fhi
The Lady looked concerned. “So if you are right about the Fhi
“Why is that?”
“Very simple: The purpose of Opus Omega is to destroy me.”
6
The scary guy . . . the guy with the forever eyes . . . the guy Drexler called “the One.” Physically he wasn’t the least bit imposing, even less so than the first time they’d met. Now he seemed almost . . . delicate. But he had an air of authority about him, of hidden power that warned away. Hank had hoped never to see him again, but here he was. And where had he come from? Maybe he’d already been here, standing in the shadows. But how had he got in?
Hank wasn’t about to ask.
Drexler gave a little bow—Hank half expected him to click his heels—and gestured toward Darryl.
“The Fhi
That word again . . . and they were both looking at Darryl. Was that what this was all about? He’d entered the Orsa as Darryl and emerged as this poor, confused son of a bitch. Hank had a feeling a Fhi
“So I see,” the One said to Drexler. “You’ve done well, Ernst. Very well. I am pleased.”
Drexler seemed to swell inside his stained white suit. He gave another little bow.
“We exist to serve.”
We? Hank thought. Does that mean me too? Like hell.
But he wasn’t about to say that.
The One stepped forward and Darryl said, “Mother?”
“No.” He looked down at him. “I am not your mother. You thirst? Then you must drink.”
He pointed to the near end of the sagging Orsa, to where clear liquid trickled from a half-inch pore at its center. Darryl looked at the trickle, then back to the One.
“For me?”
The One nodded. “For you.”
Hank recoiled as Darryl shuffled over on his knees and began to lap the fluid, swallowing greedily.
“Hey, Darryl, man, get off your knees. You’re a Kicker and—”
Without looking at him, the One raised a hand and Hank stopped. He didn’t want to, but his words dried up.
Drexler said, “He is no longer a Kicker. He has become the Fhi
Okay, Hank thought. Time to ask.
“What’s the Fhi
“It is the Maker of the Way,” Drexler said.
“Those are just words. What do they mean? How do you ‘make’ a ‘way’?”
The One spoke without taking his eyes off Darryl.
“Cataclysm.”
7
“In theory,” the Lady said, leaning forward in the wingback chair, “when Opus Omega is completed, I will die.”
Weezy felt a pang of dread as she stared at her. She’d known the Lady before as Mrs. Clevenger, simply another of the town’s eccentrics. But now she felt a deep kinship, an intimate co
“Why do you say ‘in theory’? Is there doubt?”
“Of course there is doubt. Opus Omega has yet to be completed and may never be completed. So until it becomes fact, it must remain theory.”
Jack leaned on the round oak table. “But those scars on your back . . . don’t they mean that it’s working, that burying those columns damages you?”
“They do.”
“And that hole straight through you—”
“The Florida incident,” she said with a curt nod.
Weezy was confused. “The Florida—?”
“Long story,” Jack said, then turned back to the Lady. “Weren’t you ‘killed’ then?”
“So it appeared. I ca
. . . devoured . . . the Other place . . . what were they talking about? Weezy was dying to know the details.
“How did you come back?”
The Lady shook her head. “That I do not know. It should have been the end of me, but I survived. Perhaps if Opus Omega had progressed far enough along, I would not have come back.”
Jack looked grim. “But the Fhi
Chew wasps?
“True,” the Lady said. “That is troublesome.”
“But why attack you at all?” Weezy said.
“As the physical manifestation of the noosphere, I act as a beacon, proclaiming to the multiverse that this is a sentient planet. Should I be extinguished, this sphere will be seen as lifeless. The Ally, already rather neglectful, will lose all interest and turn entirely away.”
“Giving the Otherness carte blanche.”
An idea popped into Weezy’s head. “What about an end run? Why doesn’t it attack the noosphere?”
The Lady shook her head again. “By its very nature, the noosphere ca
Jack chimed in. “But we know nothing about this Fhi
The Lady appeared to consider that. “I don’t see how, but . . .”
“Let’s just say it can,” Weezy said.
“What would be the result?”
“A disrupted noosphere would disrupt me. I would vanish.”
“And the beacon would go out.”
The Lady nodded. “Leaving the Adversary a clear field.”
“That’s got to be it,” Jack said, straightening. “Suck the life out of you by disrupting the noosphere. Looks like someone’s got to disrupt this Fhi
“You?” Weezy said, her heart clenching.
He looked at her. “Well, yeah, I guess. Don’t see that there’s much choice. If you can think of someone else, I’ll be happy to step aside.”
“What about Mister Veilleur?” “In case you didn’t notice, Mister V isn’t too agile these days.”
“But you told me Diana said the Fhi
He pointed to the Lady. “To her, we have to assume so. To us mere mortals . . .” He shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Do you know where it is?” the Lady said as Jack headed for the front closet.
“Got a pretty good idea.”