Hex Cycle I: Secondary Scenes

Medyuh By The Sea (3030 CE)

Sitting at a seaside resort next to Mareh Kazpyuh (formerly the Caspian Sea), Empress Atharvanh is attended by a retinue of handmaidens. She’s of tan complexion with tawny hair and verdant eyes. Flamingos frolic with pelicans in the water nearby while waiters serve libations to the ladies. Yet they soon see the arrival of a pair of Atharvanh’s spiritual counselors; High Priests of Kekh.

Viziers to a vitriolic drama queen, Jordanh & Zhapyrh grovel before their majestic mistress. They prostrate themselves, squatting like those Greek frogs in Aristophanes’ classic comedy. Their plain priestly robes become soiled with wet sand.

Atharvanh bids them to stand and they comply with her demand.

Jordanh jumps to conclusions right away:

“Empress, our enemies wouldst muzzle us, thus we must preemptively censure them. I hast drafted a gag order that wilt criminalize speaking ill of our priesthood, aligned as it is with thine own Eternal Hierarchy.”

He produces a document and Atharvanh stamps it as a matter of course, without even reading it.

Zhapyrh shapes peerage via discourse:

“Empress, too many art those who refuse our holy sacrament. Perhaps more people wouldst be encouraged to attend mass at the Temple of Kekh if they witnessed ye partake alongside ourselves. The sooner the better.”

“That dreadful place, really?” Atharvanh articulated airily. “Very well then. Expect us on Sunday, but not again for at least another annum afterwards. These ceremonies are far too austere for a woman of my social stature.”

Satisfied with her response, the High Priests of Kekh make their way back to the expressway where hyperloop trains convey them to the airport. As they speed along through the vacuum tube, Jordanh jokes with Zhapyrh:

“That silly trollop hast no idea what we hath in store for her. I canst hardly wait to see the look on her face when we serve her her just desserts.”

“I couldst not care much about such a haughty harlot. Her involvement is only important insofar as it comes to drawing the crowd in for Kekh.”

Jordanh & Zhapyrh were flown back on a Concorde-type aeroplane, which covered the 2,000 plus kilometers between Medyuh and Egypt in an hour. The city of New Thebz was constructed around the Temple of Kekh; unearthed amid the Black Desert barely a century ago. This discovery was seen as a fulfillment of prophecy by many and it had recast Egypt as the world’s religious center. Although Zyberyuh (far to the North) was considered the political capital of Imperium Terrenum, Empress Atharvanh preferred to spend leisure time in the comfort of her ancestral homeland—Medyuh.

On Sunday, as promised, Empress Atharvanh boarded a suborbital barge that didn’t fly but rather hopped straight up past the stratosphere and into the mesosphere before coasting down onto a magnetized landing pad. Short-burst booster rockets made this trip surprisingly comfortable. The whole journey took barely sixty minutes.

The streets of New Thebz were packed with citizenry from all over the planet, proudly waving their regional flags. Atharvanh was displeased by those displays because solely her own Supreme Standard was legally permissible. However, a peaceful facade was the order of the day and she was nothing if not a diplomat. She would find a way to tax them for their defiance later on. In the meantime she ordered attendants to flourish more streamers from her festive float.

Ere noon, when the sun hung suspended mid sky, Earth’s empress ascended the 777 steps of Kekh’s reconstructed Coptic cathedral. On opposite ends of a flat platform at the summit stood colossal statues of the androgynous frog headed Kekh, whose resurgence had been prophesied a millennium earlier by a madman called Zedh (or so some had said).

Cameras were trained expectantly on the entire affair since it was the empress’ first communion with the Hierophants Jordanh & Zhapyrh. There were rows upon rows of pews on several descending lower levels. At the bottom an orchestra played a concerto led by bamboo flutes accompanied by a mesmerizing vocal chorus of: “Shadily, shadily”.

Jordanh flanked Atharvanh on the right and Zhapyrh on the left. The priests’ garments weren’t the humble ones they’d worn on Monday; instead these were their prim and proper papal vestments. They also wore golden miters that complemented the green sheen of their mantles. Jordanh adjured the onlookers:

“Some sayeth that Kekh is a false Neterh — and not part of Egypt’s traditional pantheon. Yet Kekh’s temple has risen as the prophet Zedh predicted. Hence according to this decree signed by Atharvanh Regnyuh, none shouldst speak out against our clergy, lest they incur Kekh’s wroth!”

There was a rousing round of applause.

Zhapyrh shored up support as well:

“Kekh is a chaotic, darkly Neterh. Be ye ware — the powers below must also be given the pound of flesh we art long overdue to bestow. Therefore let us get to the meat of the matter. Today we serve Kekh’s sacred excrement on a silver platter, to none other than our vaunted Empress Atharvanh!”

On cue, a devotee wheeled in a cart and lifted the cloche off the pu-pu platter to reveal what can only be described as a steaming pile of cac.

Atharvanh covered her mouth and nose with a kerchief and broke character by berating them: “You have got to be shitting me! If you think that I’m going to sit here and eat this rank crap — then you’ve another thing coming. What kind of bullshit is this?”

“Bullfrog feces to be precise, my fair empress,” Jordanh cajoled. “But mixed with salubrious mud from Kekh’s fecund fountain.”

“Ye need but taste the most minuscule amount,” Zhapyrh reassured her. “Thence shalt Kekh bless thee and mayhap make ye his High Priestess.”

Empress Atharvanh froze for a full minute. She knew that people all over the globe were glued to their screens and judging her reactions. After weighing the pros and cons, she finally ceded silently. She simply gestured to be given a small pinch of that godawful shaiza.

Using sterling tongs, the humble devotee fed his empress a minute morsel. It touched her taste buds and instantly caused her to cough and gag, heaving violently as if she was about to retch!

This continued for several minutes, during which both priests and the laypeople couldn’t help convulsing with riotous laughter!

Yet as they wiped away tears of giddy elation — the sky began to darken. It was suddenly overcast with ominous umbrage and even the moon’s shadow moved across the solar disc. This alarmed Jordanh & Zhapyrh in particular, since they knew of no eclipse scheduled for the present moment.

The orchestra’s music had died down, so they now heard the encroaching croaking of sixty million frogs from the marshlands surrounding the temple. A veritable plague of toadies swept in successive waves through the oasis of New Thebz. Clouds burst and drenched every crowded avenue. The crowds scattered but stragglers rapidly suffocated beneath metric tons of small amphibians (including rare cæcilians, newts, and salamanders).

That was when Jordanh & Zhapyrh noticed that Atharvanh’s bloodshot eyes were deep as carmine. She was foaming at the mouth, but it wasn’t white. Instead, it was a burbling black tar.

On closer inspection, this ‘tar’ seemed to contain centipedes and millipedes writhing within it. It began overflowing outward in a wide radius from where the empress stood. After vomiting a physically impossible volume down the steps, she casually struck a pose whilst dictating:

“I be Bakbukh — Sciencer of the Druuj — in thrall to the Dæmon Panurgeh. Shamma baka luka baka mala! Pok mok dakaka, mubaka puka mak bulaka. Mak bak bak mubaka!”

Careful what you wish for… Atharvanh-cum-Bakbukh injected those words into Jordanh & Zhapyrh’s thoughts.

She grabbed a hold of each their scruffs and forcefully shoved their faces into the malodorous merde!

Lunar Capital Nautlyz-Korh

Meanwhile on Lunah, elite teams of Empress Atharvanh’s Terrah troopers marched through an intersecting array of freeway lanes that led toward the various tunnels surrounding Nautlyz-Korh.

They wore body armor and helmets, but instead of riot gear they carried repulser-rifles that could shatter a man’s bones with concussive blasts. Armour-plated convoys mounted with sonic cannons and ultra-wave heat rays brought up their rear guard.

As multiple squads moved along the bridges and causeways, a handful of squad captains conversed on their headsets. They had specific code-names that everyone used. These were: Deep-State, Gaslight, Shadow-Bane, & Yabberwocky.

“Looks like those lousy Lunatyx already evacuated the core,” Shadow-Bane shouted. “No matter. We’ll track them down to their little hidey-holes.”

“Just remember, General Mythrah ordered half of us to guard the city,” Deep-State directed. “Shadow-Bane, you and Gaslight should take your units ahead. I’ll hang back with my crew. Yabberwocky, you stay put too.”

“Will do,” Yabberwocky yessed. “Let me just ask you one question though: is it true that you and your aunt— the empress — sometimes screw?”

The two forward captains chuckled at this impertinent question, but because they were chatting on a closed circuit, Deep-State was fairly unfazed:

“You’ve got a really big mouth to go around repeating that vicious rumor, Yabberwocky. However — between us boys —the answer is YES. Okay?”

“A O K chief,” Yabberwocky yakked. He would have kept prying except that Shadow-Bane sent them a status update:

“Guys, I’ve got visual on what appears to be a large barricade blocking the exit off the main artery of the Northern quadrant.”

This message was accompanied with an image transmitted by Shadow-Bane’s binoculars. Razor wire, traffic pylons plus black and yellow boom barriers with blinking red lights filled the view.

“If I had to guess, I’d say we’re in for one hell of an ambush,” Gaslight’s gut told him to tell them. He certainly didn’t sound impressed.

Sure enough, there was a surge on the electrical grid and all the lights nearby went out. The first battle for Lunah was about to begin.

To Be Continued...

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