The Dark at the End

2

Sunrise.

Rasalom stood in the cow’s kitchen and watched the sky turn bright orange above the watery horizon. By noon-if the storm hadn’t changed the boat’s schedule-it would arrive at her dock and he would be bound for the mainland.

Her phone service had returned last night and he’d put in a call to Szeto. He’d been satisfied with his performance in the probe against the Lady-proof beyond doubt that the Fhinntmanchca had not altered her invulnerability to Earthly assault. He seemed competent, ruthless, and enthusiastic-an excellent melange of qualities-and so Rasalom had rewarded him with another assignment.

But Szeto had not answered, and had not returned the call despite a message to contact him immediately.

Rasalom sighed. He supposed he would have to call Drexler. He knew his anger at the man was unjustified. His behavior had been exemplary in procuring the Orsa and creating the Fhinntmanchca. Not his fault that it failed to eliminate the Lady. And he had achieved the seemingly impossible by bringing down the Internet, albeit briefly. But long enough to further bloody an already hemorrhaging noosphere.

And yet, the Lady persisted.

Rasalom did not understand how. He could only assume that she had somehow evolved to a point where she could exist independently of the noosphere.

Again, not Drexler’s fault.

Yet Rasalom had vented his rage and frustration on the man, had been ready to tear him limb from limb. But he had restrained himself at the last moment. And now he was glad he had. Never discard a tool for which you might find future use.

He punched Drexler’s number into the cow’s phone.

“Hello?”

His tone was appropriately cautious. He would not recognize the number on his caller ID.

“Drexler, I have a task for you.”

A few heartbeats of confused silence, then, “Sir! Of course! What do you wish?”

“I want you to meet me at the Water Street docks in Sag Harbor. Leave in plenty of time to reach the docks by noon and wait for me there.”

He supposed he could have hired a cab, but he had no money, and even if he did, he did not want to be seen by any more people than absolutely necessary. Besides, Drexler’s Bentley was very comfortable.

“Yes, sir. Immediately. I… we heard about the house. We thought-”

“We will discuss that in the car. For that reason you will leave your driver and come alone.”

“Of course. I am very glad to hear from you. We feared the worst.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

He hung up.

How pathetically eager to please. Right now Drexler would do anything, perhaps even rape his mother, to return to the good graces of the One. He and the other higher members of the Septimus Order who knew of the Otherness and the Change were under the impression they would be given special treatment once the Change began. Rasalom encouraged that belief. It made them willing participants in their own demise.

But only the One would change with the Change.

Or so he had been led to believe.

What if the Otherness had been toying with him all these millennia? While improbable, it was not impossible. This was not the first time he had confronted the possibility, but he had no way to answer the question, so he let it go. He would continue on this path. Divergence, after all this time, was unthinkable.

He heard the woman stirring in her room. Last night he had slipped in while she was sleeping and laid his hand on her head. Soon she would realize what he’d done to her.

“Oh, dear God! Dear God!”

There.

He heard the approach of her scurrying footsteps as she continued to cry out to her deity.

“Praise God! Praise him!”

She hurtled into the kitchen and skidded to a halt before him.

“I can see!” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Dear God, I can see! It’s a miracle!”

“You could see before,” he said, maintaining a bland, unimpressed air. “You inspected my wounds many times and-”

“I could see blurry shapes and maybe a little more close up, but now I can really see! Everything is perfectly clear! It’s a miracle!”

Her joy was nauseating.

“Whatever was afflicting you has cleared up. That is hardly divine intervention.”

“Don’t you understand? I had AMD and it’s incurable. Now I can see. I call that a miracle!”

“As you wish.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Are you an angel?”

He hadn’t seen that one coming.

“A what?”

“An angel, sent here by God to test me?”

“That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“No… it makes sense to me now. God washed you up on shore to see if I’d be a good Samaritan and take care of you. And I did. So then He took Rocky from me to test me further. But still I didn’t reject Him. And so now I’m rewarded with my sight. Praise God!”

“Well, if I’m his angel, I wish he’d give me back my hand.” He remembered his cover story and forced a sob. “Or even better… my family.”

The cow added a sob of her own. “And I’d give up my sight if I could have Rocky back.”

“Maybe God has a mission for you that requires sight.”

She brightened. “You think so? I could be God’s instrument… I could do His work.”

“Yes. That would be wonderful.”

She looked around and made a face. “Having sight has its disadvantages. Look at this mess. I couldn’t see the dirt before. This place needs a good scrubbing.”

As she bustled off, Rasalom could not help but smile at the cow’s comment.

Having sight has its disadvantages…

She could not realize how true those words, for she would curse her sight and beg her god for return of her blindness when the horrors of the Change reached her little island.