Hardbingers

17

The Oculus was sitting at his desk, taking a break from schooling Diana, whe1n the room darkened.

His head snapped up as he realized this wasn't simply a fluctuation in the current—this dimness originated in the room, in the air around him.

As the darkness deepened he reached for his call buzzer to summon a yenigeri but found he could not move. His hands had rooted to his desktop, his body to the chair, his feet to the floor. He opened his mouth to shout for help but his throat locked before he could utter a sound.

He watched in helpless terror as the darkness enveloped him. It didn't block the light, it absorbed it.

In half a minute, perhaps less, the formless darkness became complete. No up, no down, just fathomless blackness.

And then he knew he was not alone in the room.

A pair of eyes appeared before him, floating in the otherwise featureless void. His mind, desperate for orientation of any sort, grasped at them, then recoiled.

The whites were cold and hard as crystal, the irises dark, verging on black. But the pupils… the pupils were windows into a writhing, hungry chaos, inviting him in.

Why not go? Why not leave behind this weight of responsibility? It would be so easy… so easy…

He shook it off.

And then he heard the music… if it could be called that. A choir screaming a discordant cacophony. But no human voices had ever made sounds like these.

"So," said a soft voice, "you are the local Oculus. I'd introduce myself, but I believe you've figured out who I am."

The Oculus knew and the realization threatened to empty his bladder.

Rasalom… the Adversary.

"I've put off meeting you because I wanted to wait until certain events had transpired. 1 was about to pay a call last November but plans went awry, didn't they. This time, however, all will go as planned—no second reprieve for this woman."

He spoke so casually, with no more emotion than someone ordering cold cuts at a deli. Yet the Oculus sensed a mix of hunger and malicious glee bubbling beneath the fagade.

But he had no time to wonder why. His brain buzzed with the question of how Rasalom knew about the woman and that the Ally had marked her for death.

Unless…

His mind reeled at the possibility that the Otherness had sent those Alarms. The idea had occurred to him this morning but he'd discarded it as impossible. He had a direct link to the Ally, a dedicated line, so to speak.

But what if the Otherness had tapped in and sent a false Alarm?

What if this woman was being run down not at the Ally's behest, but at its expense?

And he had been the instrument.

Why me?

"I'm sure you have a thousand questions," Rasalom said. "We have some time, so why not pass it with a few explanations. Not a Q and A, I fear. More of a soliloquy. What I'm going to tell you will upset you, make you doubt yourself and your calling, but that's all to the good. It will serve as an appetizer to what is to come."

The Oculus knew many things could upset him, but nothing could make him doubt himself and his calling.

But as Rasalom told his tale, he realized he was wrong.