Deicide the God Eater
The Third Chapter

You have chased God all over this existence and foundnothing. I think you will bedisappointed in where God has chosen to hide.– Nott

Deicide was splayed across one of thecouches in the lounge area of his wife’s lab. He smacked his lips as he tried to bury himself deeper between thecomfortable leather cushions. This cozynook was contrasted by gargantuan industrial machines operating in thebackground. Not far from where Deicidewas, there was an assembly line ejecting hulls for frigates for his massivestar fleet; to many such an armada seemed unnecessary, but no one could guessjust what would await the Aeolipile on the other side of this shrinkingexistence. Deicide had often asked hiswife what if the higher dimensions were shrinking as well, she had only repliedwith: They probably are. However, theplane from which they came had collapsed upon itself a mere hundred years afterthe Aeolipile’s maiden voyage; it would seem that this phenomenon which wasdevouring the existence must have some sentience, and perhaps a bit of a grudgeagainst them.

Visibly frazzled interns sipped coffee fromgaudy, science-themed personal mugs. They sat around Deicide and spoke to one another as if he wereinvisible; strange, as he was the sole recipient, and in a few cases, the only subjectof their research. To the medicalcommunity Deicide was the bejeweled lab rat that spit fire and shat goldeneggs. Nott had turned Deicide’s body toa conversion center where pathogens were dropped off and recovered as gloriouselixirs, curing every ailment from cancer to old age, even death in some cases. Deicide owed his strange and magnificentbiology to Abstrusian scientists, the source material from which he was taken, Sample 172, and the fine specimen he hadbeen. There was a price for sharing inDeicide’s genetic advantage, certain enhancements broke down the mentalautonomy between the patient and Deicide, and few were willing to give up thisfreedom, those that did, spent the rest of their lives experiencing faintechoes and shadows of Deicide’s thoughts and were more inclined to agree withhim than before the treatments. An olderscientist, donning a pristinely, white lab coat appeared behind the couch andjabbed Deicide in the ribs with the tip of his pen.

“Lord Deicide, I need you back there,” hesaid; his tone was very dry as he looked down at Deicide. Though the nobleman was very well liked, evenloved by nearly all of the Aeolipile’s crew, his antics and procrastinationwith the engineers and scientists had forced them to enact a zero tolerancepolicy on the man’s laziness. It wasactually a duty of the most junior interns to always know where the captainwas, by tracking device and line of sight. Anything to keep Nott’s hammer from dropping, even it meant treatingDeicide like child.

“Argh. Vultures,” Deicide said, as he rose.

“Yes, yes sir. Our evil knows no limits. Just a few more hours,” he said. Deicide used his sharp fingers to scratchhimself all over as he followed the white coated man. They weaved in and out of manufacturingpockets and ongoing projects by Nott’s legion of scientists. In this facility alone, there were miles andmiles of workbenches; designs thought up by research teams eager to become membersof Nott’s Somnus Engineering Corps. Intellectually elite, gifted with vision and carefully honed focus,they, led by Nott, were the crafters of the Aeolipile’s technological fate, andthey did so with their eyes closed.

All around, metal edges were weldedtogether; enormous vats of liquids were poured into molds, surfaces grinded tonear transparency. A robotic machinebeing operated by a Somnus Engineer sleeping soundly in his quarters, was craftingthe canine skeletal frame of some pet project. They were completely free to use whatever materials they chose andexplore wherever their minds took them. The annoying stench of hot work and polyurethane oils crowded the air. An alarm went off as one of Deicide’s tailscrossed into the danger zone for the giant robotic equipment surrounding him.

“Sir, could you please stay away from theyellow lines? I know your aim is to beas difficult as possible, but I wish you wouldn’t take it out on Flying Squad,”he said.

“I like to watch them scramble.” Deicide said; looking at the catwalks fill upwith Damage Control Personnel. Thebuilding sized machine within the yellow line had shut down; people werealready coming to see if anyone had fallen in.

When they had crossed into a quietersection of the facility and Deicide removed his shirt, exposing his supremelydefined torso, preparing himself to be gouged with needles and probes. He headed to a group of white labs coats thatwere huddled around his tiny wife, but Deicide knew that everyone here believedshe was the biggest one in the compound. He strolled over playfully and plopped down in the chair that had beenset aside for him, wondering what they would be testing today. He was surrounded by a team of researchers invarious fields of study; Deicide had been the subject of thousands ofstudies in his life time, beginning with Nott’s research. After she had cured Deicide of an array ofailments that were inevitable to immortals including dementia, she focused herwork on the mysterious killbox. Most eaterscould not maintain one for very long even with the aid of the vestige material,but Deicide was among the few who witnessed this phenomenon as reality and nota fleeting sensation. Besides the mostgifted of Weavers and Risk Eaters, most eaters could only use the killbox toperform tricky sleight of hand or stutter step to fool an opponent.

Nott’s interns attached a drainage needlenear Deicide’s bladder to bleed off the vestige well located there. All vestige material was required to beremoved except the Oris gland attached to his brain stem; it was a growth thathad emerged shortly after Deicide began puberty, allowing him and the Abyss tooccasionally share senses, until the opening became so wide, neither of themhad any secrets between them. Even nowDeicide could hear her incessant whisperings as the Abyss poured herself into alarge cylinder so she would not interfere with the tests. Deicide joked quietly with the interns,knowing they could use a bit of a laugh to escape the rigidness and sterilityof his wife’s work environment. In herown element, Nott was extremely focused and expected the same attitude fromeveryone in her command; Deicide had long given up trying to lighten her moodwhen she worked.

He watched as she darted back and forthscribbling on a large digital board with her finger, figures and formulasDeicide had grown tired of seeing. Notthad told Deicide that she was beginning to believe that the vestige wasaffecting his fertility; that the extreme conditions he created inside his killbox were affecting his own sexorgans. It was her theory that somethingwas affecting Deicide’s sperm, and perhaps the man himself, making it and him,selective.

Deicide stood as he was waved over by atechnician in coveralls. As he came tothe man’s side, a section of the facility was enlarging, unneeded projects wereshuffled out of the way as the ceiling rose up and the walls ran away from eachother. Then various items of differentsizes and shapes were brought in, from drinking glasses to the carriage of anoil truck. Though it appeared to be atest just concerning his killbox, in actuality many tests were takingplace. Transparent screens came downjust outside of Deicide’s maximum killbox range; it was about the size of afootball field.

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Nott shouted from thecatwalk directly above. Deicide spreadhis killbox and began to crush the items within the space. He compartmentalized his attacks, placing anintense gravity on large potted trees until all splintered into a soft pulp;then turning his attention to a set of glasses, lifting and crushing them intocrystals with an unseen hand. He forcedthe glass into a fine powder and let it fall to ground like snow. He focused on the oil carriage. First it imploded and bent it at its center, andthen it was flattened. Nott urged him togo on and then the metal was formed into a tight ball and pounded into a thickdisc. Large androids shot up as if theywere fired from canons in the floor, they twisted and adjusted themselves mid-air,landing with their weapons firing. Deicidelashed out with an umbilical, slicing an arm mounted mini gun in half, theweapon continued to cycle impotently unable to fire from the ruinedbarrels. An unarmed android grabbedDeicide by his waist and attempted to suplex him, but just as the machinehefted him to the y-axis, Deicide increased his density by a great degree. He fell on top of the android crushing itsentire trunk. As Deicide stood, hedashed away from bullets stitching their way toward him, until he found himselfbehind his assailant. He allowed theandroid to turn before he locked grips with the machine. He smiled to his wife on the catwalk, beforeoverpowering the mindless droid with only his muscles to impress hisaudience. The metal limbs squealed asthey were weakened by Deicide’s superior force, the smell of the overworkedmotors poisoned the air. Within secondsthe android reached total failure and dropped into a mess of sparking cablesand warped metal. He sat down on thecrumpled machine and released a frigid breath from his lips. His umbilicals, now drained of any vestigeresidue from the action fell to the deck; his killbox shrank as his body haddepleted the bit of vestige fumes in his well.

“That’s enough,” Nott said. The facility began to form itself back intowhat it just was. Deicide seared over tothe elevator to meet his wife as she descended. The Abyss poured herself out of the large vessel she had been containedin, and slid over to Deicide in a high arc like night stealing the world fromthe sun. When she had touched his bodyher consistency changed and she became a silky, black shadow once more, part ofher girth seeped into Deicide’s umbilicals and brought them to life once more.

“Well?” Deicide said, shooing away her assistantsso that he could be next to wife.

“Let them draw a sample, come back later,love you,” Nott said, kissing him quickly before she hurried off. Deicide groaned as a stone-faced assistantapproached him with a needle for a semen extraction. And here he had been hoping the two couldhave lunch together, like the old days, but he remembered that even that wasnot correct. They had never been alone,she had always brought her work along, and he had been accompanied by theAbyss, unable to ever break line of sight with the creature. The thought shoved Deicide’s mind intoactivity, had he ever actually been alone? Ever? No, there had always beenthe hum of the engines, the squeak of Nott’s test subjects and lab pets, butmost of all there had always been the Abyss.

Hours later Deicide was lying across thecouch in his wife’s office, with an ice pack on his groin and an intern dabbinghis forehead with a wet cloth. Thesounds of high powered machinery and foremen shouting at subordinates could beheard in the distance. Deicide thoughtit strange that his wife had never bothered to have this office soundproofed,when all of her others were, it was the loudest and most active. The intern jumped when Nott stormed into theroom mumbling and cursing in Abstrusian under her breath. She collapsed in a chair that was much toobig for her and laid eyes on Deicide.

“You okay sweetie?” Nott said withoutlooking directly at her husband. She began to type on the holographic displaythat emerged from her desk. This officewas where most of work her was done, it showed, there were piles of wasteful digitaldocuments, perhaps thousands since they were so thin. Dozens of holographic displays heldinformation cycling with blinding speeds. On each screen there was also a scientist reciting something to Nottthrough video conferencing. It hurtDeicide’s head to even be in here. HisAmanuensis Array and the Abyss typically moved information to him in onedirection, they were like a massive school of fish, but these talking headswere arguing with Nott and each other; it was like watching a Preschool teacherbeing pestered by begging, screaming children.

“My greatest enemies have never caused mesuch precise and humiliating pain,” Deicide said, adjusting the ice pack on histesticles.

“As long as you know who loves you,” Nottsaid. As the intern shifted in his seat,it was almost as if she had noticed the man for the first time.

“Don’t you have exams to prepare for?” shesaid.

“Umm, yes m’am,” he said.

“Well?” She said, causing the man to fleefrom the room.

“Leave the towel,” Deicide said, and thensighed as the man left without doing so.

“Are you that hurt?” she said. “I don’t recall you complaining this muchwhen that turbine ripped off your leg. Of course you never said much of anything.”

“You’re awful,” he said, throwing his armover his eyes. Nott turned down thevolume of assistants jabbering on the displays and came from around herdesk. She motioned for Deicide to sit upso that she could sit and then he threw his head back into her lap.

“The tests say that your sperm is either impossiblylazy or very selective,” she said.

“What? Even after getting rid of the vestige?” hesaid.

“It’s not that simple. She’s a part of you. She IS you, even your swimmers,” shesaid. Deicide exhaled and shook his headin her lap. His whole body slacked asthe seconds passed, as if he were slowly dying. Though it was not under his control he felt as though he had failed her,it was he that was defective, he and his doting monster. There would be no pure blooded Abstrusians,but somehow Nott had seemed to accept this.

“They found the wall,” she said, playingwith one of his antenna.

“Really?” he said, trying to sit upagain. She pulled him back down by hisshoulders.

“It’ll take a lot more power to punchthrough it,” she said.

“Alright, I’ve waited this long. Give me some numbers,” he said.

“My calculations point to plausibility, butthat’s not the whole picture.” she said.

“Which is?” he said.

“Load Shed,” she said. Deicide did not look surprised; they had beenracked by the same problems in the early days of the Aeolipile. The days before Nott had invented an enginethat could handle the gluttonous energy consumption of the Aeolipile, beforethe Abyss could maintain enough girth to fuel it.

“We’re speaking of just the lab, right?” hesaid.

“I mean the ship,” she said. Deicide sat up quickly, wincing in pain. He looked at her with a confused and hurt stare.

“The entire ship?” he said.

“District plants, Engineering Deck,everywhere. I doubt we could affordenough power to keep a Nightlight on,” she said. Deicide turned away and then back to her; amask of horror covered his normally calm and slightly melancholy demeanor.

It was a long time before Deicide could sayanything. “What about you?” hesaid. Many wrongly assumed theumbilicals Nott and Deicide used were a part of some type of spacesuitassembly, not so. In Deicide’s case itwas the suit itself, as long as he had air, and his body kept a seal he couldperform space walks and enter other hostile environments. Unlike Deicide, Nott had no immunity to thevestige toxicity and needed to have it converted, which took massive amounts ofpower, this converted vestige is what had kept the couple alive all thesemillennia.

“Well, we have to step up the campaign. Back-to-back invasions, we’ll triple thenumber of occupants,” he said, standing up, holding the ice pack to his crotch.

She patted the cushion beside her. “The mission, my love,” she said.

“How can we complete the objective withoutyou?” he said, sitting beside her.

“Everything is in place. The necessary systems are all automated,now. Remember what I told you?” shesaid.

“Captain, fuel,” he said.

“That’s it,” she said.

“What will keep me going?” he said.

“The love that my sisters and mothers usedto create you, the hate they felt when the Pretender took our men away fromus,” she said.

“Of course, but…” He said. She covered his mouth with her tiny gray fingers.

“You must see these people through to theother side. The mission, it’s all thatmatters,” she said. Deicide noddedslowly. As he searched for some greatermeaning in his wife’s eyes he mentally reached through the network that heldthem together, past the Abyss, past the Amanuensis and into the dark realm thatsurrounded his wife’s mind. As he beganto stumble around the entrance of her virtual consciousness, Deicide felt moreand more hopeless as Nott’s emotions were conflicted. The only thing he could pull back was astrange taste in his mouth; like gunpowder and burnt asparagus.