The Gates (Samuel Johnson vs. the Devil #1)(21)
Beside the screen was a speaker, currently emitting what sounded like static.
“It’s static,” said Professor Stefan. “I don’t hear anything.”
The static whooshed slightly, its pattern changing as though in response to the professor’s words.
“We wanted you to hear the signal before we cleaned it up,” explained Hilbert.
“Signal?” said Stefan.
“Actually a voice,” said Hilbert, flipping a switch, and instantly the static was replaced by something that Professor Stefan had to admit sounded a great deal like a low voice whispering. The professor didn’t like the sound of that voice at all, even if he had no idea what it was saying. It was like listening to the mutterings of a madman in a foreign tongue, someone who had spent too long locked in a dark place feeling angry with all those responsible for putting him there. It gave the professor, who was, as we have already established, not an imaginative man, a distinct case of the collywobbles. Its effect on the other listeners was less disturbing. Most of them looked excited. In fact, Dr. Carruthers appeared to be having trouble keeping his tea cup from rattling against its saucer, his excitement was so great.
Professor Stefan leaned in closer to the speaker, frowning. “Whatever it is, it sounds like the same thing being said over and over. Are you sure it’s not someone’s idea of a joke? Perhaps there’s a bug in the system.”
Hilbert shook his head. “It’s not in the system. We’ve checked.”
“Well, what’s it saying?”
Professor Hilbert looked puzzled. “That’s the thing,” he said. “It’s a known language. We’ve had it examined. It’s early Aramaic, probably from around one thousand B.C. We’ve established that it’s a version of the same language we found embedded in our code.”
“So it’s coming from somewhere on Earth?”
“No,” said Professor Hilbert. He pointed at the image of the Event. “It’s definitely coming from somewhere on the other side of that. Professor, we may just have proved the existence of the multiverse.”
Stefan looked doubtful. “But what’s it saying?” he repeated.
Professor Hilbert swallowed. What might have been worry creased his face.
“We think it’s saying, ‘Fear me . . .’”
XII
In Which We Meet, Once Again, the Unfortunate Nurd, Who Is About to Take Another Unexpected Trip
NURD, THE SCOURGE OF Five Deities, had been devoting a lot of thought to his recent experiences. Given that he didn’t have a whole lot else to think about beyond whether or not Wormwood was looking even mangier than usual, or, “My, isn’t it flat around here?” it was quite a welcome distraction.
Among the subjects under consideration was his size. Was he, Nurd wondered, very, very small, small enough to be crushed by what he now believed was a mechanism of some kind? He had never really speculated about this before, since demons came in all shapes and sizes. Indeed, some of them came in more than one shape or size all by themselves, such as O’Dear, the Demon of People Who Look in Mirrors and Think They’re Overweight, and his twin, O’Really, the Demon of People Who Look in Mirrors and Think They’re Slim When They’re Not.
A great many demons were little more than ethereal beings, wisps of nastiness that floated around like bad thoughts in a dark mind. Some chose physical forms just so that they could hold on to things, which made tea breaks much more satisfying. Others were given form by the Great Malevolence himself, for his own nefarious purposes.19
Nurd wasn’t privy to the Great Malevolence’s plans for the conquest of Earth. Few were, except those closest to him. The Great Malevolence had been stuck in Hell for an extraordinarily long time, marooned in that desolate place with only his fellow demons for company. He had managed to carve out a kingdom for himself, but it was a kingdom of rock and dirt and pain. He could hardly be blamed for wanting to get away from it.
The Great Malevolence was extremely angry, and unfathomably cruel, and what the Great Malevolence hated more than anything else was people. People had trees, and flowers, and dragonflies. They had dogs, and footballs, and summers. Most of all they were free to do pretty much whatever they liked where they liked and, as long as they didn’t hurt anybody else along the way, or break the law, life wasn’t bad. The Great Malevolence wanted nothing more than to bring that to an end, preferably an end that involved wailing and screaming, and big fires, and demons with pitchforks poking people where they didn’t like being poked.
Even though Nurd was a demon, the Great Malevolence frightened him a lot. If Nurd had been the Great Malevolence, he would have been afraid to look at himself in a mirror, so frightening was the Great Malevolence. The Great Malevolence probably didn’t even have a reflection, Nurd thought. Any mirror would be too scared to show it.
Nurd stared out at the Wasteland. Anywhere had to be better than here. If he could make his way to the Place of People, then he could rule it in his own manner, and perhaps be a little nicer about it than the Great Malevolence, once he’d got some of the fireballs and general terrifying of the population out of his system.
But he would need to be ready for his journey, if it were to happen again. He tried to remember the sensations he had experienced as he was dragged from one world to the next, but couldn’t. He had been so confused, and so terrified, that the journey was over before he’d realized what was happening, and then someone had, of course, dropped a heavy object on him, and that had been the end of that.