Hellboy: The God Machine (21 page)

"Supposedly they're a trinity, so the idea of only one being summoned has caused some problems with the siblings. At least that's what Liz is saying."

"Little friction in the family," Hellboy said. "Good to know. And that's the wedge we can use, maybe get their help in taking down baby brother."

He told the Director he'd communicate with operations as soon as he knew something more, then signed off with a casual,
catch ya later,
but Hellboy wasn't feeling all that sure about this one.

These clowns are actually on the verge of pulling this one off,
he thought. They were summoning an Archon.
Why does it have to be destruction?
he wondered.
Why not the god of Buffalo wings or crazy dancing?
Like he would be so lucky.

"We've just received clearance from Logan to land, sir," the pilot informed him.

The Chinook landed with a slight bounce, and Hellboy got up from his seat to help the others. They were dropping off the kids, but as far as Hellboy was concerned the rest of the Gosnolt team was going as well.

"Keep the engine warm, boys, we ain't staying long," he told the pilots.

He opened the door to the craft to see that a van was indeed waiting for them. "All ashore who's going ashore." He waved them out the door as Agent Dexter approached, holding the hand of the little girl named Rebecca.

"We'll get the kids settled and be right back," she said.

Hellboy shook his head. "No dice," he told her. "Stay with the kids." He looked to see that Agents Delaney and Feig were retrieving Holmes's body. "I'm doing this next part solo."

They tried to argue, but he wouldn't hear any of it, and besides, he was bigger. He waved good-bye to them as he pulled the door to the copter closed, turning the latch and locking it.

When Hellboy returned to his seat, the ghost hung shimmering in the shadowy interior of the chopper, waiting for him.

"It's just you and me, eh pal?" the specter asked, an excited grin upon his translucent features.

"Looks like it." Hellboy patted the wall between the hold and the cockpit of the craft, signaling to the crew that it was time to depart.

"You're the only one that I don't have to worry about getting killed."

It's worth the pain,
Mary Hudnell tried to convince herself, as she reclined upon the cot that had been brought outside into the cold from the warmth of the enclosure. Her breath was coming in gasps, and her body was wracked with spasms.

They had inserted multiple needles into her pregnant belly, twelve-inch spears of metal connected to multiple strands of colored wire that trailed upon the ground like hundreds of thin-bodied tropical snakes. The wires were connected to all manner of machines, and the machines were in turn connected to a pyramid-shaped cabinet of copper and glass that contained the most unusual items.

Is that a Styrofoam cup?
she wondered through her pain-addled delirium. She wished she had the strength to rise and examine the objects stored within the pyramid. Absolom had referred to them as objects of faith, explaining that each had absorbed the power of adulation, and that this power would be what their god would use to make its final transition.

Now the power from the collected items was being extracted, flowing down the wired connection, through the needles, and into her womb, where Qemu'el was gathering his strength to begin the journey to his new home.

The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced, but she tried to look past it, imagining the good that she was doing for the world--the good that they
all
were doing for the world.

She watched her fellow Electricizers through a pain-induced haze as they maintained the many machines that had been built by the man she loved. Mary looked for Absolom, sure that she would receive a certain amount of strength from the sight of the great man. He stood by the vessel that would soon contain the essence of a god--that would soon
be
a god--and her heart took flight at the sight of him. The wind whipped across the barren island, his long, graying hair tousled by the blow. She would have preferred his old body, but this one would certainly do fine. It was so nice to have him here with her again.

Mary felt cold and wished that someone would at least give her a sweater to throw over her shoulders.

Monkeylike, Absolom scaled the scaffolding erected around the god-body, making sure that the cables that would conduct the quintessence of their most holy god into the human-shaped receptacle were properly secured. She gasped, fearing for his safety, as he spun around upon the interlocking metal rods, and gave a thumbs-up to Wickham, who waited below.

The woman--Mary wondered if she would ever get used to Geoffrey looking this way--stood behind a control panel, flicking a series of switches that caused the machinery close to her to hum to life.

The being within her squirmed, eagerly anticipating his birth. She felt him peering out through her eyes, watching as the final steps were taken to assure his coming. Mary Hudnell's spidery hands slowly went to her prominent belly, avoiding contact with the needles protruding from her flesh and the wires emanating from them. She didn't want to risk disturbing anything of importance.
Wouldn't that be a sin,
she thought.
To be so close, and then have my own carelessness cause us to fail again.

She splayed her fingers across the hard, tight flesh, as she'd seen Absolom do on numerous occasions, and attempted to connect with the entity within. Since becoming impregnated with his essence, she'd always been aware of his existence--feeling him move inside her womb, experiencing his growth--but never had he spoken to her. Mary wanted him to know how much she truly loved him, what she had sacrificed over the long years in his name.

She wanted Qemu'el to know that she had done everything for her god. And suddenly, as the cold winds blew around her, and the hum of the unearthly machines filled her ears, Mary Hudnell experienced, however briefly, what it was like to be touched by the god.

The hate Qemu'el had for her was second only to the seething rage he felt for mankind and the world upon which it thrived. She was his prison, and he took no pity upon her in letting her know this--letting her
feel
this. She tried to explain the bond that she felt for him, the love that she carried, but the god just laughed, a horrible, horrible sound lacking all mirth. And then he showed her, showed the woman what he was going to do to the world, and Mary's vision become engorged with the sight of the world exploding in flames, mushroom clouds blossoming all across the planet, eradicating every living thing that walked, crawled or squirmed upon its surface, or swam in its oceans.

She felt his joy, as only a mother who had truly bonded with the unborn life within her womb could. But she was unable to share in his happiness.

You promised us Heaven,
she thought, trying desperately to understand.
You said that you would bring us--all of us, all of humanity--that much closer to being one with the divine.

And again her mind was filled with the most powerful of images.

The Earth burned molten hot from the countless explosions and nuclear fire. Rising from the destruction came a being of unearthly beauty, its body clad in armor burning white from the intensity of the heat. As it spread its arms, enormous wings unfurled from its back. The wings begin to flap, arousing the surface of the dead world; clouds of black ash stirred from the ground, the remains of all life upon the Earth floating up into the sky, carried upon the thermal updrafts, drifting higher, and higher.

On their way to Heaven.

The god then broke the connection to his mother, ejecting her forcibly from his vision of the future. Mary's eyes came open, seeing the world for what it was, remembering the sight of how it would soon be.

She could not allow this to happen.

Fitfully, she struggled upon the cot, her hands no longer concerned with disturbing anything of importance. She wrapped her hands around the wires, preparing to pull the needles from her body, and suddenly she felt a hand fall upon hers. It was cool, comforting, and she was awash with the feeling that everything would be just fine.

Mary looked up into the eyes of Absolom, the man whom she loved, the man who had transcended death in order to fulfill his holy objective.

"It's time, Mary," he said, and she felt the cool bliss of his touch as he laid his hand upon her swollen stomach.

"Time to change the world."

The mechanical hands worked like a dream.

Silas Udell leaped up on his back legs, using his newly enhanced front paws to manipulate the controls upon the panel.

Absolom Spearz is a saint,
the Electricizer within the body of a dog thought, experiencing a kind of euphoric joy as the segmented digits of his artificial hands performed their tasks as competently as if they were made of skin, muscle and bone.

In his canine form, he had been concerned about his ability to perform the appropriate task, his worry becoming even more pronounced when learning the fate of their brethren at the hands of the monster, Hellboy.

The hands had been a gift--something that the high priest had whipped up in a moment of divine inspiration. Silas could not comprehend his good luck as Absolom had slid the mechanisms, glovelike, over his paws. There had been some pain as he had drilled holes and stretched tendons to anchor the hands and ensure that they worked properly, but it was pain Silas would have experienced threefold to continue to have these gifts that had been bestowed upon him. Now he was complete, the happiest he could ever recall being in his troubled existence: all this, plus the fact that the savior was coming. Silas Udell seriously had to consider the question as to why he, of all people, had been so blessed.

All was in readiness. The power being siphoned from the objects of worship flowed smoothly out of the pyramid and into the stomach of the Madonna, feeding Qemu'el, giving him the strength to complete his ascendance...his transition from the ether to the physical world. Silas had the urge to bark--to toss his head back and howl his joy at what they were on the cusp of accomplishing--but he held his animal excitement in check, focusing instead on the task that he had been assigned.

Robot hand poised above the control panel switch, he waited for his signal. He turned to gaze at Absolom, who stood beside the Madonna's cot, hand upon her swollen belly.

Wagging his thick tail in anticipation, he let out a yelp of pure elation as his leader turned to him, nodding to signal that it was time.

With his new hand, the dog flipped the switch.

Absolom felt Mary's fear and sympathized with her as she trembled in anticipation. It wasn't every day that a hundred-year-old woman gave birth, never mind to a god. She was trying to tell him something, her mouth moving pitifully as she fought to speak. He laid his hand upon her brow and gave her his most loving smile, hoping to calm her. The time for words was gone, and there could be no turning back.

How he had longed for this moment. To have it at last within his grasp was almost overwhelming. Glancing over to the god-body, swaying ever so slightly in the winds coming off the Atlantic, he committed to memory the sight of it before it contained life. Now, it was little more than an elaborate armature--something that could be seen and admired as a work of art--but soon it would be so much more.

Absolom savored the moment, immersing himself in the time just before it was all about to change. A moment like this one would never come again.

With that thought fresh in his mind, he turned toward Silas and signaled for the next and final phase to begin.

Qemu'el fed.

In the darkness of limbo, the power of worship and devotion poured in around him, nourishing him--giving him the strength to pull open the breach a little wider.

Trapped between realities, his glorious essence existing on two planes, the god needed this sweet nectar of belief to allow him at last to complete his journey.

Yet he recalled the previous effort of his frail human servants, when his freedom seemed imminent only to be snatched away. Tormented by this memory, Qemu'el lashed out at his surroundings. Outside his darkness, he heard the piteous moans of the host body that had sustained him this last, tortuous century.

He would not be denied again.

Absolom Spearz had turned the key.

And now the door was swinging open.

Open wide.

The needles jutting from Mary's belly began to glow with an unearthly white light, like stars burning in the night sky. She writhed in agony on the table, and Absolom reached down, not to comfort, but to hold her in place. He couldn't allow her thrashing to dislodge any of the connections.

The flesh of her exposed stomach glowed as well, the taut skin of the protrusion pulsing with a queer light. Soon the god would at last be strong enough to leave the protection of the womb, flowing into the cables to finally merge his greatness with the body that had been built for him.

Mary convulsed, her skeletal frame pummeled by the preternatural forces that were attempting to escape her.

"That's it, my darling," he cooed, continuing to hold her in place, leaning down close so that she could hear him over the sounds of her screams. "You're doing fine."

Absolom looked into her wide, glassy eyes, remembering the first time that they had met so very long ago, and the spark of instant attraction that had passed between them. It had been nothing sexual. It had been something much deeper than that. He had known that this woman was going to play an important role in the future that he was attempting to forge.

How right he had been.

Mary arched her back violently, thrusting her stomach into the air and emitting a high-pitched, ululating scream of agony. He heard a sound very much like air rushing in to fill a vacuum, and then she fell limply upon the cot--her cries and wails suddenly silent.

Absolom released her. He noted with a furrow of his brow that the metal contacts jutting from the woman's abdomen no longer throbbed with an inner life. For a moment he was stunned by the eerie silence, broken only by the sounds of wind and surf. He looked toward the god-body, moved only by the ocean winds.