Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

alone."
    Silence put a hand on Carrion's shoulder, as though grabbing at a man drifting away down a dark river. "Please, Sean. Don't do this. You're my friend. I lost Frost. I don't want to lose you too."
    There was a moment that seemed to last forever, and then Carrion sighed and opened his eyes. "You always did know how to fight dirty, John. But don't think even you can pull me out of this grave I've dug for myself. This is a place of the dead, and I belong here."
    "God, you're a gloomy bastard," said Silence. "Ask the Ashrai; ask the ghosts that insist on haunting you. See what they think of this show, this mockery."
    A corner of Carrion's mouth twitched into a smile, in spite of himself. "Now that… should be interesting."
    He opened his mouth and let out an alien sound, the harsh, eerie cry of the Ashrai. And in a moment, as though they had only been waiting to be summoned, the real Ashrai were there with him, huge and brutal presences that had only contempt for this recreation of everything they had lost. They tore through the fake metallic forest like a living storm, and reduced it to shreds. The metal trees burst apart, and the jagged gleaming shards and fragments were pulled up into a great maelstrom of howling gargoyle faces. The fake Ashrai disappeared in a moment, unable to withstand the furious presence of the real thing, like shadows dispersed by a blinding light. Silence and Carrion huddled together as the storm raged about them, but somehow never quite touched them. The song of
    the dead Ashrai was a powerful, awful thing, and the will of the man once called Marlowe could not stand against it. The dream of a vanished forest was blown apart, and carried away on an all too real wind, and soon there was nothing left but the whirling dust from which it had sprung.
    Silence and Carrion found they were standing before Jesus again. He looked seriously angry.
    "I make a Heaven for you, and you spit in my face! Must man always walk away from paradise?"
    "Every dream has to end sometimes," said Silence. "Even yours, Marlowe."
    "Don't call me that! That man is dead!" Jesus had lost his halo, and his crown of thorns had caught fire.
    Flames danced on his brow and in his eyes. "You can have no comprehension of what I've become!"
    "Oh, you'd be surprised," said Silence. "Both Carrion and I have known the touch of a greater force in our time. We just never lost our sense of proportion." He moved over to the esper Morrell, standing a little to one side. "What was your dream like?"
    "Never had one," said the esper briskly. "The moment he came fumbling round my mind, I put up the toughest mental shield I could fashion. He didn't even come close to cracking it. He may command the nanotech, but as a telepath, he's strictly low level. I have to say, this guy is a real letdown. The nanos gave him control over an entire planet, and all he does is play childish games. He hasn't even touched his real potential."
    "Hold everything," said Carrion. "Where's Barren?" They looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. There were only the three of them, and Jesus, and the whirling dust storm. Jesus was smiling again. Silence glared at him.
    "What have you done with Barren, Marlowe?"
    "He gave in to his dream," said Jesus. "In the end, he was just a lost child, who only wanted to be the man his father was. And now he is. He belongs to me, and soon you will too. Since you won't accept my Heaven, I condemn you to Hell."
    Flames leapt up everywhere, replacing the dust storm. The landing party flinched back from the heat, even though it couldn't touch them through their shields.
    The sky was dark, lit by lightning, and clawed and fanged demons soared overhead on huge batwings. From everywhere came the sounds of countless people screaming in horrible agony. Silence and Carrion and Morrell moved close together.
    "Damn," said Morrell. "He's got past my shields!"
    "Either he's getting stronger," said Carrion, "or he's getting more determined."
    "This isn't real," said Silence. "Don't believe in it."
    "It's as real as the nanos can make it," said Carrion. "This vision comes from Marlowe's mind, not ours. Disbelieving in it won't make it disappear. Not when he's obviously enjoying himself so much."
    They looked at Marlowe, and where Jesus had been now stood the Devil, with scarlet skin, cloven feet, and a goat's head with curling horns. It was more like a child's picture than a detailed creation, but it made Marlowe's state of mind clear