Orion

INTERLUDE

Orion’s body floated lifelessly on nothingness in an infinite void. The Golden One appeared, shimmering into radiant human form, and began to examine his handiwork.

With senses that could discern the energy levels of individual atoms, the Golden One inspected the inert form floating before him. He nodded to himself, satisfied.

“He did not need to die this time.”

The Golden One did not bother to look up. “No. Yet he still resisted my summons.”

“He is learning to hate you.”

“He is learning that his own petty desires are sometimes in conflict with mine. And the one he hates is the godlike personage he knows as Ormazd. That is only a small part of me, as you well know.”

A silver gleaming lit the featureless expanse, and the one who called herself Anya appeared, clad in metallic silver from throat to foot, her dark hair tied severely back away from her face. Her silver-gray eyes looked first at the Golden One, as they must, and then focused on the body of Orion.

“He wanted to stay where he was,” she said.

“Yes. With you.”

“We were happy together.”

The Golden One made a gesture that might have been resignation, might have been pique. “He was not sent on this mission to be happy. He has a task to accomplish.”

“You send him to kill the Dark One; yet he does not have the strength to do so.”

“He will, eventually. He must.”

“You have not made him strong enough,” Anya insisted.

“No.” The Golden One shook his head. “It is you who are weakening him.”

“I?”

“You make him realize how alone he is. You make him desire companionship, even love.”

Anya’s chin rose a stubborn inch. “Have you ever considered, while you are playing your game of infinities, that he makes me desire companionship… even love?”

“Nonsense! You cannot…”

“I did love him,” Anya confessed. “When I was in human form, living down there in those wretched tents, he was magnificent. I thought him a god, almost. I think he reminded me somewhat of you.”

The Golden One smiled. “Truly?”

“A god,” she went on, “a being of great strength, and great goodness. And…” she hesitated.

“And what?”

“Great need.” Anya’s voice suddenly became almost pleading. “Can’t you see how confused, how painful, it is for him? Cast into a strange time and place, commanded to do things that are impossible…”

“He succeeded in his task,” the Golden One said. “He has kept the continuum intact.”

“At what cost?”

“The cost does not matter, my dear. Only the goal is significant.”

“You would sacrifice him — you would sacrifice all of them — to save yourself.”

“And you,” the Golden One pointed out. “If I am saved, so are you and the others.”

“And so is he, the Dark One. He will be saved also.”

“No. He must be destroyed.”

“But you cannot destroy him without destroying us.”

“That is not true. I will destroy him. This creature that you dote on will do that for us.”

Anya looked down on Orion’s silent body. “You know he can’t achieve that. He is only a creation of yours. The Dark One has powers that he cannot match.”

“He will defeat the Dark One.”

“He can’t.”

“And I say he will! We have already stopped him twice. I will keep sending out this creature to defeat the Dark One, no matter how long it takes.”

“Haven’t you looked around you?” Anya demanded. “Haven’t you seen what’s happening? Are you so egotistical that you believe you actually are winning this contest?”

“I am winning,” the Golden One replied. “The continuum remains intact, despite the Dark One’s pitiful little schemes.”

Anya raised one hand, and the emptiness in which they stood was suddenly filled with vast swirls of stars, boiling cauldrons of gas that glowed pink and ultraviolet, whirlpools of galaxies sweeping out to infinity.

“Look!” she shouted over the rumble of the expanding, exploding universe. “See what is happening to the continuum.”

The Golden One followed her outstretched finger and saw stars collapsing in on themselves, titanic explosions that flung out seething gases and then sucked them back in to an insatiable vortex of energy until what was once a brilliant star became nothing more than a black hole in the fabric of space-time. He saw whole galaxies succumbing to the same forces, winking out of existence, dying even as he watched.

“Do you think you are winning?” Anya demanded. “While the continuum is dying, piece by piece?”

The Golden One snapped his fingers and the starry universe disappeared. Once again they were in the calm nothingness of the void.

“Do not be alarmed by side-effects, my dear,” he said. “The battle is taking place on Earth. Of all the planets of the continuum, of all the living intelligences in that universe, it is these creatures of Earth that hold the key to our struggle.”

“So you believe,” Anya said.

“What I believe is true,” answered the Golden One. “What I believe is the continuum.”

“For how long?” she taunted. “How long will you be able to maintain your control? He is defeating you, O mighty Ormazd. The forces of darkness are gobbling up the continuum, bit by bit.”

“That will all be reversed once the Dark One is destroyed.”

With a sad, unbelieving shake of her head, Anya said more softly, “So you will send him back again?”

Glancing at Orion’s waiting body, the Golden One replied, “Yes. It is necessary.”

“Then I will go also.”

“You are very foolish,” said the Golden One.

“And stubborn. I know.”

“You can’t actually want to be with this… this, creature. You can’t actually desire him.”

She smiled. “He reminds me of you, a little. But where you have arrogance and power, he has doubt — and courage.”

The Golden One turned his back on her, and abruptly disappeared. Orion’s body began to stir; his eyelids fluttered as his fingers clutched at emptiness.

Anya watched him. coming to life, and slowly she faded into nothingness. But as she dissolve the human form that she had taken, her luminous gray eyes never left the face of the creature she had known, the man she had loved.