51-True Genius

“Well, of course that’s not my intention,” James said. Perhaps not very convincingly, but that was alright. A plan was beginning to form in his mind.

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds after James’s pronouncement, and then they passed through the area of camp with the line of tents. Rostov seemed to recall at this point that he had said he was giving James a sort of tour of the camp.

“You’ve already seen the statue, of course. And these tents house most of my residents here,” he said. “What’s most interesting is behind it, however.”

He pointed out a long, rectangular grid-shaped wooden structure that was embedded in the ground. Grass and dirt poked out from beneath the wooden lattice-like structure.

“What in the world is that?” James asked, not bothering to hide his pure curiosity.

“Well, you came upon us in the middle of performing a sacrifice,” Rostov said matter-of-factly. “Naturally, people who know they’re about to be sacrificed can’t simply be kept in the open air. They would run away. So we dug out an underground prison, and we keep them there.”

“So this is the roof of an underground prison.” James was surprised. A little impressed, a little worried. Why had Rostov chosen to show him this?

“It is. It’s difficult to lift the ceiling, even when we come and get the prisoners out ourselves, but it’s worth it for the security. It makes escape very difficult. Despite the low probability of anyone making it out, someone guards it at night. And we have a patrol around the outskirts of the camp. During the day, of course, we would be able to see any activity here.” He gestured broadly at the open clearing. There was a good line of sight from the tents to the underground prison and beyond. “And of course, anyone coming to attack the camp from that side would be likely to stumble through this ceiling in the dark, even if they were somehow invisible to the guards. This is just a thin layer of wood, earth, and grass. It can’t really support human weight.” He pointed to the other side, where the tents were, along with the statue of the god, the bonfire, and the female prisoner tied to the wooden post. “If someone snuck up from that side, they wouldn’t really be sneaking, since we have a fire burning there constantly.”

So there it was.

“This is your way of discouraging me from making an attack on your camp,” James said.

“It’s a better way of discouraging you than trying to kill you, isn’t it?” Rostov smiled wolfishly.

“Much better. I suppose you didn’t choose that path, because you are still hoping for a productive relationship.”

“At the least, I suspect my god is not well served by angering Apophis.”

James swallowed. There it was. He’s basing his foreign policy here on our supposed religious affiliations. If he found out that I didn’t have a legitimate tie to Apophis, would he order his men to try to kill me right now? Or worse, would he want to add me to his sacrificial fire?

“I suspect you’re right,” James said, trying not to press the point too hard. “Before we go further on this subject, I must apologize for my ignorance. What god is that?” He gestured to the statue. “I never studied very much in religions, and I did not expect I would be meeting the Chosen of another god today. I just thought I was finding a settlement of people.”

“Oh, sure. My god is Moloch, lord of the cleansing fire. He can see everything done under the sun. That’s literal, since he’s a sun god.” Rostov smiled, and James was reminded of the history teacher he’d had in freshman year of high school. The other man seemed to really enjoy telling people about his god.

That’s bad, James thought, but how is it that Moloch gives his servant such incomplete information anyway? If he sees everything that’s done–wait, that’s not how Rostov phrased it. Moloch can see everything done under the sun. That doesn’t necessarily mean he sees everything. Only that what he wants to see, he can see. Perhaps he was so focused these last few days on protecting and guiding Rostov and his flock, ensuring that his Chosen was perceived as infallible by these sheep, that he hasn’t even bothered watching everything else that’s been happening. That would explain why Rostov thought that I’d be older-looking. He’s only getting bits and pieces of information from Moloch, and I only popped up on Moloch’s radar when he realized I was migrating in Rostov’s general direction. He didn’t bother giving a physical description. My bad luck that I was traveling during the day and sleeping at night, or I might have gotten the drop on these people instead of vice versa.

James realized Rostov was looking at him expectantly, as if he thought James was going to share some details about Apophis with him in return for the religious history lesson on Moloch. And James actually had just the right information to share in mind. A mix of truth and falsehoods that Rostov would hopefully never fully entangle.

“Should I assume you have any knowledge about Apophis?” James asked.

“Only the very bare minimum, that he’s a bit on the, er, darker side, like Moloch, and that he represents a more chaotic element.”

Perfect.

“That’s putting it mildly, my friend.” James put a hand on Rostov’s shoulder. “He’s an apocalyptic chaos god, and his entire thing within his own pantheon is trying to unmake creation.”

Rostov’s eyes widened. “I, ah, don’t think Moloch would be down for that. He really likes the sacrifices, but I’m pretty sure he wants humanity to continue.”

“Oh, of course! I completely understand. And you, as an instrument of your god’s will, wish for the same thing, while I—” James winked and threw up his hands—“I naturally wish for Apophis to destroy the world and bring on endless darkness. But that’s not something I have much part in. Cutting to the chase, Apophis doesn’t communicate with me quite as much as it sounds like Moloch does with you. I’m not really a player in his big designs yet, I don’t think. If ever, Apophis gave me a mission, and it involves creating chaos, but I don’t think that puts us at odds.”

“Oh, no?” Rostov looked skeptical.

James smiled and shook his head. “No. First, I wasn’t specifically coming here to undermine the work that you and your god are doing to diminish the human population here. If I had known who you were, I’d have headed in a different direction, frankly. The mission I have is infiltrating groups within Orientation, breaking them up from within, and causing them to self-destruct, ultimately resulting in mass casualties and chaos.” He tried to smile and look appropriately pleased with himself, as he imagined the enthusiastic supporter of an omnicidal god would.

“Then, those people you were traveling with?”

“They’re the last survivors of the previous group. They don’t know about my blessing, and I need to keep it that way, so I appreciate your discretion here. I infiltrated their group on day one. Day two, I was everybody’s best friend. Day three, I had started to suss out some points of division within the groups. These were people who knew each other, mostly, which meant there was a simmering cauldron of resentments already there to exploit just beneath the surface. The next day, I chose violence! Heh heh. I staged a crime scene so it looked like one faction within the group had killed a member of another. I added a little theft, so the very distinctive stolen item could pop up in a suspect’s sleeping bag when it was convenient for me.

“By a couple of days ago, the group was engaged in an open civil war. By the end, I had led the handful of survivors into the middle of some spider monsters’ territory, and there were so few of them, they all got picked off, except my buddies, um, Alan and–ah, Mitzi! I led them out of the spiders’ territory, since they both still trust me. I think having an elderly married couple with me makes me look a lot more approachable to the next group I infiltrate.”

Rostov chuckled a bit. “So the senior citizen couple with you aren’t your hired help to assist you in wiping out my little community. I had thought the idea that the three of you were here on a mission of destruction was pretty strange. Nice of you to spare the elderly, though.”

“Eh, sparing is a strong word. They make a strong argument for my credibility right now, but once I’m in the next group, I’ll have to get rid of them at some point. In fact, I was going to let you sacrifice them if I had to, in order to get in your good graces, but with your permission, I would like to take them alive and in one piece with me. Their presence makes such a strong argument that I’m a harmless, gentle soul, and since they’re a married couple, they’re much more valuable as a set than if one were to catch a bad case of being sacrificed. I can ensure they won’t live long enough to tell anybody about your little community.”

“Wow. That’s—you’re—” Rostov seemed taken aback for a moment, probably still absorbing everything James had said, not just the last snippet. He took a deep breath before finishing with a chuckle: “Heh heh. You’re a ruthless son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

That’s a bit rich coming from this human-sacrificing wannabe cult leader, James thought. But it was exactly the impression he was going for.

James threw up his hands and grinned. “Guilty as charged! Not that different from you, though, right? I mean, I can’t imagine getting my two survivors to let me sacrifice people. You and your god put me to shame. And having that smoke constantly going to lure fresh victims in–that’s a stroke of genius! True genius.”

Rostov chuckled a little at that. “I swear, I’m a nice guy just doing what I have to do. Humbly obeying my god’s laws. Trying not to question too much. Speaking of which, why do you think my god believed you were coming to destroy me and my group, since it seems you intend to leave peacefully?”

“Well, I did intend to destroy you and your group when I set out here. At the time I made those plans, though, I just assumed the originator of the smoke was an ordinary group of Orientation survivors, not followers of another evil god. My plan now is to move on to another group and snuff them out. Our gods are both sort of dark, so I figure we’re better off on the same page, at least for now. What I get out of it is knowing that you’re whittling down the survivors in this place too. And you get the same from me. I’ll be cutting down the number of cohesive groups that might threaten your dominance in here, and when I can, I’ll direct survivors your way if it doesn’t hurt my plans to do so.”

“That does sound like it’s to my benefit, ultimately. Alright then.” Rostov looked pensive for a moment. He seemed to be chewing over this idea, looking for any flaws in it.

After a minute, he asked: “James, is there anything you and your party need while you’re here, or would you like to be on your way sooner rather than later?”

James tried to be casual. “Nothing we need.” He shrugged, as if he wasn’t almost ready to literally run from this place. “Unless you happen to know of another population nearby that we can infiltrate?”

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t. But if you’re otherwise alright, then let’s get you and yours on your way.”

Confirmed that he’s not aware of the Rodriguezes’ presence, or he’s unwilling to admit it, James thought. And he’d have no reason to hide that information. His god is far from omniscient.

“I did have one question about you and Moloch,” James said.

“Go ahead and shoot! We’ve already shared so much.”

“How do you pick who gets sacrificed? Is it random? Some specific set of criteria? Just any outsider? Or what?”

“That’s an interesting question, actually! In the case of the woman there now, she was actually one of us originally. But she’s gained an ability that’s suited to consorting with demons, and weirdly, Moloch doesn’t truck with that. Otherwise, we sacrifice outsiders, usually going from strongest to weakest to ensure minimal resistance as the process advances and it becomes clearer there will be no survivors.”

So demons exist, too, James thought. Not just gods. And also, Rostov is a monster. A real psychopath. He makes me look like a kitten. If he takes this show on the road, he could grow up to be a religious version of Hitler. If I manage to escape here with Alan and Mitzi, I have to come back. Even if I can’t save that woman, someone has to deal with Rostov! I don’t want my family to exist in the same world as this bastard.

“Very interesting,” James said, smiling politely at Rostov’s explanation. “Good future notes in the event I ever need to sacrifice people to please Apophis.”

Rostov led James back to Alan and Mitzi, who stood holding each other close and smiling at the Moloch worshippers in a thin attempt to conceal their obvious discomfort. They were guarded by Officer Ross and two other tough-looking Moloch cultists.

As James approached, he Identified as many cultists as he could to gauge their real strength. Average level around 7, but three have been through Race Evolution. I can take them—hopefully? All but one looked human. That last sported a pair of tiny horns and skin with a reddish hue.

James closed the distance with Alan and Mitzi and embraced them both.

“Don’t worry, we’re getting out of here shortly,” he reassured them under his breath. “Just keep silent for now.”

Rostov had a quiet word with the people who were guarding Alan and Mitzi, and the guards visibly relaxed.

“Safe travels, fellas,” Officer Ross said, noticeably relieved that he did not have to sacrifice these people.

“I guess so,” muttered one of the other guards, sounding disappointed at letting them get away.

Rostov waved. “We’ll see you later, perhaps. If fate ordains!”

He and his people waited a moment, and then James began leading Alan and Mitzi away. As they made it to the tree line, the awkward silence was broken by the sound of the prisoner being whipped in the background.

There, but for the literal grace of the gods, go I.