Tangled Web

I pray that I never again experience a Night of Fire. The Inquisition's flameguns burn not only wood and straw, they boil the blood and singe the soul.

The town of Ravican, in the barony of al-Bazan on Criticorum, was last night's target for Inquisitorial fervor. The rumors had spread throughout the marketplace earlier that day: a Symbiot had been seen by Yeoman Dar in his apple orchard, creeping about in the trees. There is no telling just what his initial description of the thing had been, for by the time word spread in town, various descriptions were given, with the creature growing larger and more malevolent as the shadows from the sun grew longer.

We ignored the rumors at first, for we are all well used to such superstitious panics among commoners. This was meant to be our rest time, a month far from the bustle and politics of the big cities. We deserved this time away from responsibility. As our liege, Erian Li Halan, pondered out next step in the quest, we relaxed and roamed the idyllic hills and meandering streams of this pastoral region.

Our peace ended just after nightfall when the Inquisition ship landed in the fields near the shire reeve's home. Cloaked and hooded priests - mainly Avestites, but some Orthodox priests among them - stamped from the ship and into the town, immediately demanding that no one leave. They summoned the local lord, a retired knight, and demanded that everyone in the town subject themselves to Inquisitorial questioning. Unable to deny them lest he be suspected himself, the old knight acquiesced and gave them free reign to find the Symbiot they had heard was hiding in Ravican.

The priestly team split up and marched down the streets, lining up the citizenry, eyeing them for any signs of inhuman behavior.

Erian, her bodyguard Cardanzo, and I were in a small pub on the far side of town. A farmer ran in to cry the news about the Inquisition, and the other drinkers and diners immediately abandoned their meals to flee from the town to their hovels in the surrounding hills. This was no sign of guilt - no one willingly subjects himself to Inquisitorial scrutiny. Even I, a priest myself, know that the accusing monks are wrong more often than right.

We decided to slip away ourselves. Our starship was in a field not too far from here. Julia, Sanjuk and Onggangarak were there now. By the time we passed two streets, the smell of smoke was already in the air. Somewhere a hapless fool said the wrong thing or tried to run when he should have halted, and flameguns had roared as a result. The sky was lit with the flames, started in one building perhaps but now obviously spread to more of them. The whole town would probably be cinders by the morning. I almost hoped the rumors of Symbiots were true, to at least justify the cost.

As we neared the pig sty near the small path that would lead us to our ship, we heard voices approaching: "I saw movement here, brothers!"

We leapt into the dark doorway of the hovel and tried to still our breathing as a group of the robed fanatics rushed past and down another street. Our quiet allowed me to hear the sobbings in the room behind us.

I peered into the gloom and saw a man slumped to the floor, his head in his hands, his body wracked with sobs. I moved to him and bent down, my hand over his head. "Don't fear; I am a priest, but not like those outside."

The poor fellow looked up at me, his eyes pleading. "They killed my children, father. They burned them. My poor, poor children." Tears streamed down his face. I didn't know what to say. How do you console a man who has just lost his beloved children to the flames of priests?

I moved my hand to his shoulder but recoiled in sudden fear and disgust, unable to control my instinctual reaction. From out of his shirtless torso grew four thin, segmented spider legs. He didn't seem to notice at first until he heard the intake of my breath. He looked at me and then at himself in surprise. He then leaped to his feet with amazing speed and scuttled up the wall to the rafters above, his new legs clinging to the ceiling.

"By the Pancreator!" I heard Erian yell. Cardanzo drew his blaster and aimed it at the rafters, trying to discern the creature in the darkness.

The thing spoke: "Please, father, I beg you. I mean no harm. I was a priest once, like you."

Cardanzo, seeing the creature, pointed his gun and prepared to fire. I leapt forward, knocking down his hand, yelling: "No! Wait!"

Both Erian and Cardanzo looked at me like I was mad. I explained: "Let me hear him. I I don't know why, but please. Let me hear him."

They didn't move, and the thing bent down further into the dim light coming from the doorway. "I was an Illuminatus grade monk on Stigmata. I fought Symbiots, and believed them to be evil and demonic. But then I was changed, converted by a stray spore they had spread months before. They came for me and taught me who they really were. They aren't like we think. They are a good people, living closer with nature than you can know."

As he spoke, he slowly came down from his perch, crawling down the wall and looking at me earnestly. "I remembered more of my human memories than most converts. I still know the litanies and exegeses drilled into me at the Naos. I still revere the Pancreator and Zebulon, but I see that their message is broader than even Pallamedes knew. The Holy Flame is not restricted to humans. All beings share its spark. Each world has this fire, which empowers all living things."

He stood up straight on two human legs when he reached the floor, moving closer, his arms gesturing as he made his case. "Because I still knew human ways, I was sent back to the Known Worlds to learn about the new Emperor and his plans against the Symbiots. I changed my form to look like anyone I wanted to, and spent time in the main capitals of many worlds, pretending to be many people I was not. But I tired of it, and longed for the peace and tranquillity of my old home, the town where I had grown up.

"I returned to Ravican and started a family. My wife, who knew of my secret, loved me the more for it. She died last year of the Vantokos Sickness. But our children lived. They are human, like you. I cannot and would not convert them even if they asked. I love my Symbiot brothers, but prefer my human family. Do you understand?"

I stared at him, not knowing how to respond. He spoke so passionately, his tale came from the heart. His grief over his lost children seemed so genuine.

"I I'm so sorry," I stammered.

"We do not need to be enemies. We share the same dangers. The light of the suns fade for us all. There is a saying among the Phazûl: Weaving webs around the sun."

"What?" I said, surprised.

"It means to support the Lifeweb, to renew the light."

He paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to say something difficult, something hard to translate from one tongue to another, when a sword thrust out from his chest. He stared down at it in shock, and Erian, standing behind him, withdrew her rapier and quickly slashed it across the air. His head rolled forward and thumped to the floor. His body's spider legs twitched momentarily before the body collapsed.

I stared in shock.

Cardanzo stepped forward and emptied his blaster into the body, turning the carcass into an ashy husk. Summoned by the blaster fire, Inquisition troops bolted down the street and through the door. As soon as they saw the scene and the sizzling body on the floor, remnants of its spider legs still apparent, they nodded quietly.

Erian wiped her blade on a nearby sack, and the Inquisition leader stepped over to her. "Well done, my lady. May I know your name?"

"Erian Li Halan," she replied coldly, as if speaking to her social inferior. "And this is my entourage. Cardanzo, my bodyguard, and Alustro, my confessor."

Her attitude worked well, for the Inquisitor, cowed somewhat by a noble and her brave deed, bowed slightly. "I thank you for catching the Symbiot menace and sending it to Gehenne. We will clean up the remains."

Erian, without any delay, walked out the doorway. Cardanzo followed, but I was still too stunned to realize that this was our cue to exit. I stood looking down at the body, my thoughts in turmoil.

One of the priests placed his hand on my shoulder. "It's evil is done with. It cannot harm you now."

I must have looked at him like he was mad; he completely misunderstood the cause of my confusion. But the startled look on his face brought me back to my senses. I bowed my head. "Yes. Yes, you are right. I was unprepared."

He nodded with sympathy and I walked through the door. Erian and Cardanzo had not waited for me, but walked slowly so that I could catch him. As soon as I came to them, they increased their pace, and Cardanzo whispered, "Hurry before they think to search us for taint."

As we moved through the woods past the sty and toward our ship, my consternation was clear. Erian looked at me with worry. "It's all right, my priest. You see the best in men, and not their lies."

"But the web. The web in the sun. It was in my vision. What does this mean?"

"I cannot say. Are not lies seen as a tangled web? Perhaps your vision warned you against his deception."

I nodded, but I knew that was not the answer. There was a deeper meaning here, and I feel our prejudice and fear silenced the answer before I could ask the question.

 
From War in the Heavens: Lifeweb