I started from the southernmost shore of Barbados, followed
the ocean floor until I sensed the edge of the Great Shield. I plunged deep
into the Earth until I reached the ten mile limit, cut over, and terraported us
back up. The heat and pressure were intense, but I was just tough enough to
take it. I jumped us to the top of a rocky sea-side cliff where I sensed no
people.
We let Hitchhiker and Shoggoth recover for a few minutes. I
looked out across the land, taking in the rolling grassy hills and eventual
forest. I know we were somewhere in the African part of the continent, but had
long ago forgotten where the old geopolitical borders were. I only knew Kilika
was still thousands of miles away, and that Xyla and Yrba’s citadel was located
in the center of the supercontinent.
I blinked in the light of the Great Shield. The force field
formed a miles-high dome over New Gondwana, high enough to allow clouds to
still form. Heat and light from the sun were filtered through, somehow, to
ensure that plants didn’t die off, but day or night, the shield glowed with a
soft pink light, casting the world in an omnipresent hue. It was brighter
during the day, but even at night, it created enough ambient glow to see by
easily. The glow only dulled somewhat when clouds blocked the sky, and even
then, the clouds themselves sometimes glowed pink.
It made it difficult to tell the time of day sometimes, and
the contained weather never seemed to change. With the loss of reliable
technology, it became all too easy to forget what day it was, what time of
year, or what hour. People had gotten used to going by what their body’s
rhythms and habits told them, but it still contributed to the oppressive
feeling upon the populace.
I wasn’t planning on giving my companions the grand tour.
There wasn’t much to see. Across the entire continent, civilization had been
blasted back to the Stone Age. We Ten Queens and their superhuman armies
toppled cities, burned towns, and destroyed nearly all means of industry. I
personally had sunk cities into the ground at Xyla’s behest. It sickened me to
remember such things. I wanted to say my youth had led me to be easily
manipulated, but the truth is, I was too scared to defy Xyla and Yrba. Even
though my power had been used to create the supercontinent, it was they who had
actually enabled me to do so. And most of the other men and women working with
them would have happily killed me in an instant if I’d voiced dissension, as
some had done. So I helped them turn developing and developed nations into
shattered wastelands.
The only places still allowed running water, gas, and
electricity were the cities that the Ten Queens had chosen as the capitals of
their territory. Even here, such utilities were kept running through the use of
superhuman resources. The Queen, her most ass-kissing superhuman loyalists, and
their most sniveling and devout human followers, enjoyed the luxuries of modern
civilization, while everyone else on the continent was left to fend for
themselves. The Queens didn’t truly rule, so much as just bossed around other
superhumans, who in turn just bullied the humans into compliance.
The human populace was forced to live as peasants,
subsistence farmers and game hunters, serving a superhuman nobility. Humans
effectively had no rights, save those that their overlords allowed them at a
given moment. A superhuman could take and use a human in any way they saw fit,
and if anyone tried to stop them, they would be killed.
The few times humans did manage to kill a superhuman, the
perpetrators would be hunted down by other supers and they and their entire
families murdered. The bodies would be burned alive or hung and left to rot in
high-traffic areas of the killer’s hometown. People quickly got the message,
and now, almost no one dared to oppose their cruel masters.
I hadn’t been much better. That fact that I had directly killed
considerably fewer people than any other Queen did little to alleviate the
guilt.
The point of all the senseless destruction and random death
had been simple: to make life miserable for the population, but give them the
option to access one of the two Doorways still within the continent’s borders.
Anyone had the opportunity to become a superhuman, if they dared to try the
odds. No one, human or superhuman, was allowed to stop anyone who wanted to
make the trip.
At the time, I had believed in Xyla and Yrba’s gospel that
the Doorways had been divine gateways, that those of us sent back were servants
to a higher power that wanted mankind to ascend. I had asked her, if she wanted
everyone to enter them, why not just force the population through? I could
easily just terraport people to the Doorway entrance and push them through, one
at a time.
She said it had been tried before, but it had not worked.
Only those who willingly entered would be found worthy. The courageous. The
curious. The desperate. It was our job to make them want to go in.
I hadn’t fully understood it at the time, but she was the
boss, and I wasn’t about to defy her. So I did my part. I punished the humans
who displeased me. I preached to crowds in my Queendom of how their suffering
was necessary to purify their wicked mortality, which could only be cleansed by
the Doorway.
Knowing what I did now, it was clear it was all a set up to essentially
force people into the arms of the Masters. Maybe there was something about
being forced versus going in willingly that made the Masters prefer the latter.
Maybe, if a person went in with a sense of purpose, some sort of desire, that feeling
was what the Masters could better twist to their own ends. Take a person who
already had aspirations of glory or discovery or revenge, and tweak those
motivations into a drive for conquest.
Those who were forced into the Doorways, meanwhile, those
who wanted only safety and responded only with fear to the unknown, perhaps
that particular mental state was much more difficult to harness. Maybe those
forced in broke the programming much more easily.
Thinking of it that way, it would certainly explain why so
many more women returned than men. The innate male drive for conflict and
victory would be much more useful to the Masters than the innate female drive
for nurture and security. I’m sure some people, men and women alike, would be
offended by such a theory, but it made sense to me. God knows I’d only gone in
because I thought it was better to take a gamble at empowerment than a
guaranteed fate of starving to death in a gutter. When I came back out, I’d
gone along with Xyla and Yrba because I wanted the protection of the most
powerful gang of supers I could find. I just hadn’t realized how bad it was
going to get.
Why didn’t those who suffered try to stop the Queens? Many
had tried, but no matter how powerful they were, no superhuman had been able to
topple the oppressive system. Xyla and Yrba called all the shots, and had the
deadliest of the Queens ready to kill for them. If you went into the Doorways
hoping to come out an avenging hero, you got destroyed before you could even
get started, leaving only those with the ambition to aid in the system alive to
enforce it.
Moreover, the two head tyrants never left their fortress, a
floating citadel forged by superhuman power in the center of the continent,
right above the mountain range formed by the joining of the two landmasses. The
massive structure was protected by a smaller, yet no less impervious, version
of the continental force field. No one but the Queens had access to them, while
the two could unleash waves of their own clones to the outside world to enforce
their power of rule.
As I described all this to my teammates, they wondered if
maybe this system was conceived of because perhaps previous attempts had
failed. The whole New Gondwana concept had been rather too well planned. In
hindsight, while me joining them and helping them out to form the
supercontinent had most likely just been serendipity for them, they had already
seemed to have everything worked out ahead of time.
It was possible that Xyla and Yrba had not forgotten their
time with the Masters, unlike the rest of us. That maybe all of this was part
of a programmed mission. Hitchhiker, upon reflection, wondered if maybe
Ghostwalker had been another agent of theirs. The leader of the Fantasmas de
Medianoches had claimed to want to save society from the cartels, but his
efforts had been so destructive, he had caused more direct damage than the
cartels ever had, prompting people to risk the Doorways in California and the
Yucatan.
Echo’s Stilettos had sometimes been sent overseas to
interfere with the expansion efforts of Russia, China, and the newly formed Arabian
Empire. The three countries had been gradually spreading their power by forcing
compromising deals on neighboring nations. Tensions had been rising until
Europe, India, Japan, and Australia had become worried enough to prepare for
what seemed an inevitable Third World War. Had the Extinction Wave never
occurred, the world could have ended up in the midst of a nuclear holocaust,
where the only guarantee of survival would be risking the attempt at
superhumanity.
Even the Shadow Queen, the world’s first real super villain,
could have been an early first attempt by the Masters to begin the world of
chaos that would bring humanity to them. It was all speculation, of course. But
sometimes even conspiracy theories can make a little too much sense.
Whether we had hit the nail on the head or were completely
off base didn’t matter. New Gondwana was the last remaining place that still
had active Doorways, and they were still sending thousands, if not millions,
through every year. God only knew how many more worlds were going to suffer and
die because humanity fell for this insidious trap.
We really only had one shot at this. I knew Kilika, more
than almost any other Queen, had Xyla and Yrba’s trust. It wouldn’t surprise me
if the Eater of Souls was in on the whole thing. After her, Ojau was our best
bet for a back-up. We would use them to gain access to the citadel, and take it
apart from the inside.
It wouldn’t make up for everything I’d help them do. But
maybe, just maybe, it would begin the process of setting things right.
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You know from the start of this story, I didn't think Strider would end up becoming so important to the point where it became her story in a sense.
ReplyDeleteThere's still a few chapters till the end, so I could be wrong, but it's interesting to see how far the story has come with her in particular.
Yeah. While I wouldn't want to give up the perspectives of the other characters, Strider really is more pivotal to the plot than all the rest. Her and the Earth Mage. If I'd *really* wanted to put the heroes in a bad place (and wanted the story to be about thrice as long just getting characters from one place to another), I could have killed her in the Glorifica fight. But I ultimately didn't feel that would work for the story, and she was a character I wanted to keep exploring anyway. Lucky her, I guess. :P
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