Farmer, Philip Jose – Riverworld 06 – ( Shorts) Tales of Riverworld

“And what is the next step, son?” asked Huey Long. The walk had not winded him, nothing on the Riverworld

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seemed to have the effect that it might have had in what he had come to think of as civilian life. “Am I supposed to make a speech? Is there a place we’re supposed to occupy? Are we empowered to take something?” His eyes twinkled with a mad light, and he suddenly seemed to Selous to be not only an odd but possibly a dangerous man. Then the intimation passed and he was just a fat American politician with no constituency.

“I’m quite sure that matters will resolve now,” said Selous. “Once they see us, once they know we’ve returned here, they will make arrangements for us.”

Huey Long stared at him with that odd, kindly expression that could so suddenly and awkwardly shift to brutality, and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, son. I truly do not.”

Selous shrugged. “Do any of us? Do any of us really know what is going on in this damnable place?”

“/ do,” said Caligula. “I know exactly what is going on.” He turned to them, his body at attention, his eyes ferocious and insistent. “Now,” the emperor said, “now we will bring this to an end.” He raised his hand, stared at Selous, then Long, then passed his gaze along the thin ranks that had staggered to surround them.

“Bring me a virgin,” he said. “Bring me a virgin at once!”

But, of course, he had known that this was their mission, that this was what had been waiting for them all along. Caligula felt the godhood coursing within him, felt in these burning moments the fullness of his need, and as he cast his eyes slowly down the line of followers he sought out the women in the ranks. He could feel the familiar power of his sex stirring deep within him. They

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would not dare to refuse, for soon they would know his true power.

“Bring me a virgin,” he repeated, “or soon all of you will be dead. I will pronounce a curse upon you that will bring you to the dung that you are.” He reached out, snagged Selous in a surprising and huge grasp, then flung the man out of his way with a power born of the madness now inside him, and ran toward the dim line he saw before him.

“I’ll have you!” he yelled. “I’ll have you all!” Destiny filled his loins as gracefully as if it had been the blood and sex of the virgin he craved. “You will acknowledge my godhood!” he cried. “I will open the gates of this city in the game of the anointment and I will have you all, just as it was decreed!”

He reached out, snared a body, ran his hands cruelly up and down it, seeking breasts, seeking the familiar pudenda, an amazing sense of destiny overwhelming him. Why, this place was splendid! He had not judged its splendor until this very moment. For he was truly a god here. He could do as he wished to any of them. Why had he not understood this before? They were all gods.

He started to mount the body, his needs urgent. He had never dreamed there could be a place such as this, but here it was. This was surprising, enormous, absolutely astonishing to him. In his head there was a ribbon of screaming, and he seized on to it, held it, and let the screaming drag him home.

Beethoven stared in despair. He had never seen such things. Even when the mobs had stormed the gates of Paris in 1789 there had not been anything like this, he was sure. But here it was. Huey Long was staring,

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laughing. Selous was rubbing his hands and yelling at Caligula in Victorian outrage… but no one moved on the young emperor in the small space that he had opened as he continued his cruel and amazing act.

The cymbals in Beethoven’s head had stopped, the piccolo too, and all that was left was the droning of the bassi in the trio of the C Minor Symphony, that grotesque dance toward Hell.