art by Prince Satyrn
There...came the faint whisper of the Other, into Ariachne's mind, rousing her from her reverie. She could not know how much time had passed. Ariachne looked up, squinting against Sol's glow.
Sure enough, it was there. The stained glass and iron orb, hidden in the star's harsh glare, too small to be even picked up by the most sophisticated of etheric locators, too close to the roaring song of the sun-whales for even the most accomplished empath to find. Like the cosmic egg from which the Creator had sprung the moment the Universe was born, their quarry dwelt in silence, hard at work transmuting his base flesh into imperishable divinity. Inside, he was prone and sluggish, almost defenseless. Ariachne Logos felt herself shiver with the prospect as she approached the crucible while lining up the sun-barge to dock. She extended the gilded bridge until it connected, then she crossed over it and boarded the interior of the tabernacle.
She stepped into his sanctum without encountering the tiniest hint of resistance, and there he was: the Red Lord, the Messiah, the near-god, floating in perpetual free-fall, wreathed in Azoth-flame as he bathed in the light of Sol. His eyes shone like beacons, radiating with smokeless flame. His body, weathered and starved, resembled that of a weary Titan. Ariachne's knees went weak at the sight of Him. Oh, how she loved Him. How she hated Him, all in the same breath. Her heart thumped in her chest, a deep and rhythmic beating and she realized, it beat in tandem with his own, and she knew she could not kill Him. It would not do, to simply kill Him.
Her stinger quivered in its secret sheath.
"How did you find me?" the traitor asked. His eyes flickered momentarily and she felt his mind run skimming across the surface of her thoughts, testing the waters for any sign of betrayal. Ariachne didn't bother with setting up her defenses, she let Him search through her and trusted that he would find no trace of the assassin there. After all, she knew the damper he had inflicted on Himself, the guilt which had festered in Him and made Him blind to her mission. For all his prescience, the latent power of his mind, he would not dare to confront her. She didn't bother with an explanation. The traitor did not ask for one, either.
They coupled in free-fall, running together like legendary serpents, his hands caressing her naked flesh, his mouth breathing flame into her lungs. She enveloped Him, smooth and warm like mercury. They ran together for the briefest moment, became a burst of perfect light.
At the apex of his release, just as the orgone energy suffused them, she released her stinger. He howled like a wounded animal as she bore into his flesh, her barbs hooking up inside him. He thrashed against her even as she wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him pinned to her body. Even in his horror (or perhaps, because of it) he was still erect, driven deep inside her. The women that were Ariachne Logos studied the dawning horror of his expression as their Rebis was consummated, annihilating the light within him. For a while, he fought against them, a streak of red running across their cool, softly-flowing insides. The near-god writhed, jerked frantically, and was finally quiet.
Ari waited, just to make sure. She savored the lingering warmth before commencing with the assimilation. Her fingernails raked across the skin of his back, tearing long, red strips across the flesh. The talons met near the base of his spine and ripped open a wound large enough for them to sink into muscle. Almost seamlessly, her skin began to flow into his own. Her legs fused with his spine. She flowed inside him like water and he began to lose consistency too, until they were a perfect sphere of gently ebbing liquid suspended in mid-air.
There was a long time of darkness, dotted with bursts of rainbow light as the process continued. When it was finally over, Ariachne Logos was beyond whole again. Her eyes opened, their brilliance outshining even Sol itself. She cried like a newborn, flexing a six-fingered hand against the glare of the star. The reborn Ariachne searched herself, saw her firm new muscles under her taut, soft skin, saw the flat expanses of her belly, made smooth where her navel had once been. She traced between her legs and found Male and Female there. Slowly, carefully, she gathered her strength and opened her Third Eye. It shone from her forehead with perfect light, radiating Smokeless Flame. She was Paracelsus' Homunculus, made flesh.
The homing beacon squealed from the sun-barge. The Queen's Hounds were on their way, to confirm the kill and bring the body of the traitor to Her Majesty's feet. Shifting her tactical options with her newfound intellect, Ari the near-goddess decided that she would let them come. She would make an example of them, make a banner from their taut skins for her armies to rally behind. Soon, the entire system would echo with the sound of her name and she would build a Dominion that would stretch across the starry skies for eternity.
Ariachne Logos dreamt of the entire Universe on bent knee, paying obeisance to her as she swam among the sun-whales. She closed her eyes, but did not dream.
There was work to do.
~ the End ~
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by Shaun Lawton
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Fantasy and Science
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