V2Ch16-Sick and Evil

“Is it possible to resurrect the dead? Not generally,” Anansi answered slowly.

“You’re not going to give me any more than that, huh?”

“You’re not going to use up another question to get a better answer, I suppose,” Anansi replied. James felt as if the Spider God was smirking behind his mask. “Fine. I’ll give you a freebie. Resurrection in one form or another might be possible, but only if the soul is bound to the physical world at the moment of death.”

It sounded like an answer he’d had to give before.

“That sounds rare,” James said. “Thank you for answering more fully.”

Need to be more careful how I phrase my next questions.

“The death gods are quite greedy, I’m afraid.” Anansi shook his head somberly. “Because the attributes of the gods are shaped by the collective unconsciousness of sentient life forms, including those in worlds with no System, the gods of death are particularly uncompromising. Most humans aren’t used to taking seriously the idea of being able to bargain with death.”

That’s very interesting. Feels like I just learned a very useful piece of cosmology, but I don’t know how to apply it. He would store it for later.

And he resisted the temptation to ask if death could be cheated, bribed, or tricked. Bargaining was such a specific term that James couldn’t help but look for loopholes, but ultimately, this wouldn’t be necessary unless someone he loved actually died. He didn’t intend to let that happen.

“Well, what are the best decisions I can make, going forward, to achieve the goals that you understand are important to me?” James asked carefully.

“Don’t try to lawyer your questions, James. I’m not a scheming djinn, trying to find ways to cheat you in the specific language of your requests. Ask me like a friend, and I’ll give you my best answers.”

Easy to say, Trickster God, was his first reaction.

But James inhaled and exhaled another deep breath. Of course he’s right. He’s given no indicators of hostility, not counting that one time he allowed me to think his kids would eat me. Alright. Try something else. Ask a selfish question. I’m good at thinking about myself.

“How should I pursue my Quest, Path to Immortality?”

The god let out a whistle and shifted his posture in a way James interpreted as surprised.

“You already unlocked that? Impressive! Well, I suppose it’s that Enhanced Stem Cell Production Skill. Still, quite an achievement for one so young! You must be one of only a few in your universe to have that Quest now. We’re not counting the elves and dwarves, of course.”

James resisted the temptation to ask about that. The elves and dwarves comment is definitely bait. Not going to bite. Not going to use a question on that…

“Well, there are several ways to become less mortal,” Anansi continued. “You can make a contract with a deity affiliated with death. You can Evolve into something that doesn’t age, although you’ve already got that covered with your Skill. You could become a completely ageless undead, such as a vampire or a lich. You can become stronger and more difficult to kill in many thousands of different ways. But the most reliable method is to ascend to godhood. A small percentage of humans from the history of your world have ascended, Julius Caesar being a notable example. It requires leaving a lasting legend that carves your memory into the human heart, enough to create faith and leave a mark on man’s collective unconsciousness.”

So it is possible to become a god, James thought. Probably something that would take thousands of years, considering Anansi’s comment about how long it would take me to fight his sons and win. But then, I’ll have time.

“Thank you for the answers,” he said. “At some point, you know I’m going to ask you about the elves and dwarves. But for now, given my three question limit, I’m going to think carefully about what I need to know right now.”

“Take your time. We have as long as we need, right? Why not sit down and relax a bit? You could even take a look at one or two of your new Titles.”

James sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. He tried to dive deep into himself and figure out what kind of question he should ask a god. Anansi wasn’t just any random deity. He was the God of Knowledge, Stories, Trickery, and Wisdom. Three out of four of those would be useful for giving advice that James would want. But he had to make sure that he didn’t waste this last question.

There are a thousand things I’d like to ask. Why is the System the way it is? Why did it show up now? What’s my place in this world? I always wanted to know if there was a real purpose to my life, but I didn’t think it was very likely any god existed. Now I actually have one in front of me. I’m skeptical that he could answer that question to my satisfaction, though. Fine. Fuck it. There’s probably no good question I can ask.

James decided to look at his new Titles again, as Anansi had suggested. He opened his eyes and pulled up his list of Titles. Of course, I already had Devout Beacon, but there’s a pretty good list of Titles there now besides that one…

[Titles

Chosen One of Anansi

Citizen of the Dead Marsh

Deceiver

Devout Beacon

Dreamweaver

Figure of Destiny

Friend of All Spiders

Living Legend

Spider-King

Storyteller

Swiss Army Mage

System Pioneer

Trickster

Xenocide]

The first of the new ones that caught his eye was Dreamweaver, mainly because Anansi had just given him a taste of what powers came with it.

[Dreamweaver: A Title granted by a god. Anansi has chosen you from among all sentient life forms to enact his will in the world. You may infiltrate and influence the dreams of others with the Skill “Dreamwalk,” which is bound to this Title. The God of Stories bids you good luck and a happy ending.]

A little vague, but I might as well try it. If I visit the dream of someone from the Rodriguez camp, that might give me a better idea if the group really needs me back.

“Anansi, I think I want to try Dreamwalking to see if I can gather information.”

The Spider God just nodded.

Dreamwalk! James’s body instantly grew sluggish and sleepy and slumped to the ground, and in a moment, he felt himself drifting through that same black void from before. What Anansi had called dreamspace.

He focused on connecting with the consciousness of someone whose mind he was already connected to: Chava Rodriguez.

He felt a distinct presence off in the distance once he’d identified whose dream he would enter, and he moved toward that presence. Movement through dreamspace seemed to be a little easier, a little less contradictory, the more practice he had. This time was easy.

He arrived in a small apartment’s living room, facing an archway that led into the kitchen. Chava was sitting at the kitchen table, back turned to James, chatting with a man who looked quite a bit like Chava himself.

“Hello Chava,” James said, walking through the archway into the kitchen.

As the older man turned around in his seat to face James, he noticed how much younger he was here than in real life. Well, I know dreams can break the rules of reality already. And he wasn’t here to learn about Chava, so he didn’t have much interest in investigating the social dynamic at play between Chava and this other person.

Probably his brother.

“You, I’m not supposed to encounter you, ah, yet.” Chava squinted and looked confused.

James took the moment when Chava was focused on him and silently ordered the other man to leave the kitchen and go use the toilet. Then he sat down in that man’s place.

“This is a dream, Chava,” James said. “I’m checking up on you. You’re still following my orders, correct?”

“Yes, of course.” Chava’s voice turned monotone, and he seemed to visibly age to his real present condition before James’s eyes. It was almost sad.

“Very good. How is the family doing?”

“We think it is possible that we are being hunted by that cult you attacked,” Chava said.

Damn! So they really are in danger here.

“What makes you think that?” James asked.

Chava explained what had passed in James’s absence.

So I did free some of the prisoners! Although I could have freed all of them if I had planned it out better, it’s great to know my efforts weren’t all for nothing.

“Keep running away,” James admonished. “Don’t fight them if you don’t have to. Unless the family gets a lot stronger, you can’t win.”

“That is the decision everyone made when the matter came up for discussion,” Chava said. “I will ensure the family continues to follow your direction.”

“Very good. I’m glad we had this chat.” James rose from his seat and willed himself out of the dream.

He reappeared in dreamspace again.

That was productive. I think I want to try it again. But where to next?

He decided to visit Mitzi. She and Alan would have been the most worried about his survival. She deserved to know he’d made it.

As soon as he focused on her, he felt a distinct presence again. Dreamwalking is turning out surprisingly easy.

He popped into her dream, and he saw Mitzi immediately. She was so much younger than the woman he knew that he almost thought he was in the wrong dream for a moment.

Jesus, I guess those memories never completely fade from your subconscious…

Mitzi, looking all of twelve years old, was sitting on a sofa in front of James, between two adults who James guessed were her parents. At least they looked like her. That was half of how he realized that the young girl in the middle was Mitzi. The man certainly wasn’t Alan, and he looked a little too much like adult Mitzi to be unrelated. The woman’s resemblance to Mitzi was uncanny. Almost clone level!

“Um, hello, Mitzi?” James tried.

“You’re blocking the TV, bozo!” Mitzi exclaimed.

James turned and saw what Mitzi was referring to. There was a modest-sized television behind him, and it appeared that something called the Andy Griffith Show was just starting.

“Black and white television?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Mitzi and Alan aren’t that old! Are they?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the girl who would become Mitzi Roget had risen from her seat.

“I think I know you,” she said. “Where do I know you from?”

“Um, you know me from Orientation,” James tried. He didn’t want to completely break the flow of Mitzi’s dream, so he wasn’t sure how much he should say. It looked like a happy dream. Surely her parents were long dead, so there was no way she saw them in real life. It was possible that she didn’t remember what they looked like outside of her dreams.

“I know you from where?” She sounded confused.

“On second thought, I’ll come back,” James said. “Don’t mind me, just enjoy your show!”

He ran away from the bewildered Mitzi into another room, so that she wouldn’t see him suddenly disappear when he returned to dreamspace. Then he left.

One more dream. I’ll tell someone else I’m alive, and then that person can tell Mitzi and anyone else who’s wondering.

James thought of his target, identified the distinct feeling of that person, and found that person’s dream immediately. Then he navigated there.

But when he entered this dream, things felt different.

The setting wasn’t a familiar human one at all to his eyes. The space was dark, and misty, but James thought it was indoors. At least, he could feel that there were walls and a roof of sorts. The ground was hidden by the mists, and when he tried to focus on a single spot, he could swear that it moved. James turned to his left, and he saw a naked man walking along the ground, apparently lost. James turned again and saw more naked people wandering around at varying distances.

This was a large space, and everyone within was aimless, lost, and from their facial expressions, miserable. As James tried to get a better idea of the setting, he realized the walls were moving. Not closing in, but sliding up and down in places. After a few seconds of this, he recognized that the walls were made up of living snakes. The floor must be too.

What the fuck is this place?! How could this be your dream?! What kind of sick, evil shit…?

A naked man stumbled into James, and he reflexively jumped back. The man went down and struck the serpentine floor, and there was a sound of something biting into him, followed by the man wailing.

I don’t need to see any more.

James left immediately. Back in dreamspace, he decided to just return to his own body. He didn’t want any further surprises like that last dream. And the Rodriguez camp didn’t really need to know he was alive. He hadn’t even completely decided if he was going back to them. If he didn’t return, then knowing he was alive would only give them false hope that he would come to fight beside them. If he did return, then his arrival would be all the more triumphant if it came as a surprise.

Need to figure out what that last dream meant as soon as possible, but visiting other people’s dreams won’t help me with that.

He sought his own body, and it too had a distinct energy. This one felt like home.

And then he could feel himself again. He lay in an awkward position on Anansi’s stone floor, limbs tangled. But he had a fresh resolve.

Need to figure out what’s going on with the Rodriguezes. Need to figure out if they really need me more than my family. Need to figure out if I care enough about them to go back to them instead of my family even if their need is greater. I’ll try my second question again, with different phrasing.

James opened his eyes, stood up, and stretched his limbs. Anansi remained in place, clearly watching him. James wondered if the god was curious about what James would ask, or what he’d seen. From their interactions thus far, he was fairly certain Anansi could not read his mind.

“I suppose that if I asked you a question about a dream I observed, that would count as my final one of the three questions,” James said.

“You suppose correctly. That doesn’t mean I won’t help you with questions after this. But there are some answers that may be restricted by my divine role. I’m bending that for you right now, as a sort of signing bonus for becoming my Chosen.”

“Final question, then,” James said. “What should I do now?” He raised his hands, palms out, to preempt any objection from the Spider God. “I’m not trying to lawyer this, but given the things I care about, I just want to know, what’s the best next move for me? It’s hard to be certain about what to do when I just don’t know what kind of risks my family faces.”

Anansi sighed. “That’s fine, James. I’ll give you my best advice. Your last question is appropriate. I just wish I had a better answer for you. The future is always clouded. Anyway, you’ll be able to ask more questions in the future. I’m going to show you a lot of favoritism and bend the rules for you as much as I can. That’s what rules are for, right?” He leaned in and lowered his voice confidentially. “Even if I can’t guide you like Moloch does for Rostov, I know a lot about the way the multiverse works.” He slumped back into his seat.

“Speaking of how the multiverse works,” Anansi continued, “the best single piece of advice I can give you, for both now and the future, is simple. It’s also counterintuitive for people like you and me who like to calculate every angle, make promises and then take them back, and generally behave like tricksters. Take decisive action. Even if you don’t feel decisive. Choose what your intellect tells you is the best of your bad options, and commit without looking back. When Caesar crossed the Rubicon, when Cortes destroyed his ships, when the elves left Earth, they made decisions that could not easily be taken back. But that is how great legends are born, James. Whatever you do, do it decisively. No half-measures. Become the legend you’re meant to be.”

“Thank you, Anansi.”

Alright, James thought. That advice was actually much more helpful than the more specific advice Anansi had given him before.

I know that Mina and Yulia are resourceful. And it sounds like their Orientation is a lot less cutthroat than ours. I know what the rational choice is. I know what I need to do.

“Which way is the exit again? I know where I’m going.”