The Temple (15 page)

“Mighty Diana!” Sycko called.
“Bless me and bless the hunt. Let not the prey from my sights
escape nor beware me on the hunt.”

A cloud drifted across the
moon.

“An omen,” Jeremiah whispered
excitedly. “A good omen. Just as Diana hid herself so she will keep
you hidden on your hunt. Behold the might of the Lord, my dear
Sycko and you will know that His might is right. You have been
blessed, brother, truly blessed. Now let us descend the hill.”

A solitary drum started beating
a rhythm in the dark. Then two rows of torches lit up the path down
that they had to take. The brethren stood in two rows holding the
blazing torches above their heads. When Sycko and Jeremiah stepped
between them the brethren chanted an ancient hunting song:

Behold the hunter on his
quest,

And know his prey will have no
rest.

Then he must point his deadly
arrow,

That brings his foes a lot of
sorrow.

The pointed tip flies through
the night

And when it strikes all will be
right.

His shady claws Death stretches
out,

Ere anyone can cry or shout.

Hither Death, come hither
now,

For life to thee must needs
bow.

And then the end is swift in
gore,

A blood red cloak Diana
wore.

All the way down Sycko felt the
power of the Goddess coursing through his veins. He had never felt
such strength before and he knew with utter certainty that he now
had the power to do anything. He was ready, truly ready for the
hunt. The torchlight flickered and the scent of smoke filled the
crisp night air. When Sycko reached the end of the line the
brethren turned and followed him. Their rhythmic chanting lent a
magic air to the procession. Sycko’s heart beat fast and he marched
at the head of the column feeling like the conquering hero in a
tale of olden days. Only the moon looked on, serene.

They marched through the night
until their weary feet carried them back to the outskirts of town
from where they took the first bus of the day. It was four o’clock
and dawn was still some time off. The moon had regained its usual
pallid complexion like someone who had just seen a ghost. When the
tired brethren got back to the temple they quickly sought out the
comforts of their beds and by the time first light broke only
Jeremiah and Sycko were still awake. Jeremiah plied Sycko with
generous quantities of his usual strong drink along with Dryvellers
Fags.

“They somehow taste different
today,” Sycko said.

“Look at the packet.”

Dryvellers Fags

Extra Strong

Sycko gave him a questioning
look.

“I’ve kept these for a special
occasion,” Jeremiah said. “They have the Lord’s special blessing
and will fill your heart with strength.”

Sycko inhaled deeply and felt an
unusual sensation creep through his body, peculiar yet not
unpleasant. He exhaled and greedily took in another lungful of
smoke. The drink and the smoke combined to make him feel
invincible. Six o’clock. At seven o’clock rush hour would be in
full swing.

“What’s it like, Jeremiah?”

“It?”

“To die. What’s it like to
die?

“Ah, I see,” he said looking
somewhat ill at ease. “I think I’ll have a drink, too.”

Sycko handed him a bottle.

“Death? Why death is nothing to
fear for a Dryveller. A true Dryveller simply leaves all the
troubles of this world behind and moves on to a better place. The
word ‘die’ doesn’t really apply to us Dryvellers. It’s more like
moving house into a nicer neighbourhood.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yes, of course. It is nice. I
dare say, I envy you not a little. You’re not just moving on,
you’re going to the absolutely best place anyone could go to. Oh,
what I wouldn’t give to go in your stead.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course, it’s the
opportunity of a lifetime and…”

The drink had left Sycko in a
generous mood.

“All right then, Jeremiah. I
give my place up for you.”

“Oh good Lord, no,” Jeremiah
said hurriedly. “That wouldn’t do at all. I already told you that
God himself commanded me to remain at my post here. You wouldn’t
have me go against God’s will now, would you?”

“No, of course not,” Sycko said
looking somewhat crestfallen at the speedy rejection of his
heartfelt offer. There was something odd, he was sure but he
couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Jeremiah saw the frown on
Sycko’s forehead and understood that doubt had crept into his mind.
He cursed inwardly at not handling the conversation better. There
was only one thing to do, distract his mind with other matters.

“I’ve got some new clothes for
you. Let’s go and try them on. I hope you’ll like them.”

His curiosity piqued Sycko
followed Jeremiah into his office. There, neatly laid out, was a
black suit complete with a frock and a top hat.

Sycko’s eyes gleamed with joy.
“A top hat for me?” he said incredulously.

“Why, yes certainly,” Jeremiah
said. “Give him the best! the Lord commanded me and it would hardly
be the best without a pukka top hat.”

“Isn’t the frock a bit big?”

“You’ll be wearing a special
waistcoat underneath. It’s a bit bulky so you’ll need the extra
space. Here, try it on.”

Sycko slipped into the
waistcoat. It felt heavy and there were wires coming out of one
arm. Jeremiah quickly attached the wires to one sleeve and then
helped Sycko into the frock to cover everything.

“There we go,” Jeremiah said.
“You look great, put the top hat on and you’ll look like a pukka
Dryveller from top to bottom.”

Sycko proudly admired himself in
a mirror. He lit another one of the extra strong fags and blew
smoke at his reflection in the mirror. The weight of the heavy
waistcoat seemed to vanish along with the smoke into thin air.

“Splendid,” he said. “What do we
do now?”

“Ah, yes, good you remind me.
There is one more little matter.”

He took out a switch from a
drawer and connected it to the wires coming from Sycko’s
sleeve.

“Here, hold that,” Jeremiah said
and put it in Sycko’s hand.

“Now listen to me very
carefully, my dear friend. You can see the red button here. Don’t
press it. I will activate the device in your clothing now and then
you’ll go to the bus stop and take a bus.”

“Which one?”

“It doesn’t matter. For you
they’re all going to the same place today.”

Sycko was surprised the bus
company had changed the bus routes for him but Jeremiah didn’t give
him time to think much about it.

“So, you take any bus that goes
into town. Find yourself a seat if you can and wait till the bus is
full. In fact you best wait until the bus is really full and you’re
standing at a bus stop with a long queue. The more people there
are, the better. Do you understand?”

Sycko nodded and repeated the
instructions. “It’s simple enough. But why do you want me to go on
the bus. I thought you were sending me on a hunt?”

“You’re quite right, my dear
Sycko. And you’re going on a hunt. It’s very easy. All you have to
do when the bus is really crowded is to press the button I just
gave you. Mind you don’t press it before or play with it. The wrath
of the Lord would be terrible.”

Sycko nodded. “And then the hunt
begins?”

Jeremiah smiled. “Exactly. Now
just do as I asked you to and everything will be fine. Just think
about superparadise if you’re feeling bored on the bus…”

“And the 99 trillion
virgins?”

“Precisely. Whatever you wish
for will be yours after the hunt.”

Sycko smiled happily and shook
Jeremiah’s hand.

“You’ve saved my life, Jeremiah.
My life was nothing before I met you and things just keep on
getting better. See you soon, I hope.”

“Godspeed, Sycko. May the Lord
be with you always.”

Sycko left the building and
walked towards the bus stop. It was a pleasant mild morning. The
sky was blue with a few tufts of cotton wool clouds to embellish
it. Birds were singing their happy morning song in the trees while
people were on their way to work, to school or on some errands,
some happy and others not so, but all going about their lives. Some
of them smiled or tried to suppress a smile when they saw Sycko in
his suit and top hat wondering if he had just stepped out of a time
machine or if fashion had rediscovered a style that was once ‘all
the rage’ before falling into disuse.

Sycko strode slowly yet
purposefully through the street, every step taking him nearer to
the bus stop and his tryst with destiny. As a warrior of God he
felt invincible, immortal and superior to all those around him. His
heart beat strongly and on his forehead a thin film of perspiration
appeared while his eyes became fixated on the bus stop he was
approaching. He took another one of the extra strong Dryvellers’
Fags from his pocket and lit it. It was the last one. He inhaled
deeply looking forward to the feeling of strength it gave him. He
reached the stop and queued oblivious to the disapproving looks as
he blew smoke into the air. His eyes gazed into a void. Then the
bus came. It was a new model with a higher fuel efficiency and
other marvels of technology that engineers and workers had planned
and built with an infinite amount of toil and pride. Sycko didn’t
notice. He merely flicked what was left of his cigarette onto the
road when the driver wouldn’t let him board with it. He paid and
looked down the central aisle. There it was, half way down the
aisle a free seat by the window. Just as Jeremiah had wanted, a
place in the middle. He took the seat and waited. The bus wended
its way through the heavy morning traffic and at every bus stop
more passengers got on until the bus was crowded. All the while
Sycko was waiting and fingering the mechanism in his pocket careful
not to press the button too early.

He felt an obese woman pressing
into his side and suddenly realized how full the bus was. It was
time he decided, not yet quite. He would wait till the next bus
stop and if there was a long queue…

Slowly a smile became visible on
his face though what it was that made him smile no one knew. The
bus pulled up at the stop. Sycko looked out of the window still
smiling. A young mother stood there patiently carrying her bundle
of joy. The baby saw Sycko’s smile and smiled back. Sycko was glad
the moment of destiny had come. His thumb found the button and
pressed it. An electric current travelled up the wires and set off
the detonators that triggered the explosive material. The plastic
explosive decomposed to release a variety of gases that expanded at
about 26,400 feet per second (8,050 meters per second). Sycko’s
body disintegrated and he had ceased to exist before he even knew
it. The metal and glass of the bus were torn asunder, the roof
blown off and the sides turned into a deadly hail of debris that
tore through the bodies of all those in the vicinity. The babies
head was sliced off by a piece of debris and the mother flung
through the air with her bundle of sorrow. Sixty-eight people on
the bus and another twelve outside were killed instantly, many more
were injured, some to die later others crippled or scarred for
life. Thick black smoke rose up into the peaceful blue sky from the
burning wreckage as the flames ate into the flesh of the dead and
injured. People came running to help, suddenly made heroes by
events while others phoned for help or merely stood gaping. A bit
farther down the road stood a huge billboard with a poster that
might have given Sycko food for thought had he lived a little
longer.

We Shall Overcome

No one goes to Hades

with all his immense wealth.

Theognis, Maxims

When Sycko had left the temple
Jeremiah quickly sneaked out through the back door and drove home
unobserved. The night had been long and tiring for Jeremiah and he
looked forward to the comforts of his opulent mansion, the large
airy rooms, the beautiful decoration, and most of all the huge bed
that stood in the middle of what was probably the biggest bedroom
in town.

He parked his limousine in the
garage and entered the house through a side entrance. He walked
through the large hall which was decorated with mahogany wall
panels and a plush carpet. He loved walking on, or maybe one should
say wading through, the carpet. Then he ascended the teak staircase
to the first floor, walked down the corridor and closed the bedroom
door behind himself, happy he had made it home at last.

After a quick shower he dropped
into his magnificent bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t bother
switching on the enormous TV set that stretched from the floor to
the ceiling. He didn’t have to, he knew the news already. All there
was to do now was to get some rest before the inevitable occurred
and the police arrived to investigate. But that was of no
importance. Everything was well prepared. He stretched out and
enjoyed feeling the silk sheets rub against his skin. He found a
comfortable position for his head on the large down-filled pillow
and closed his eyes, wondering if Sycko really had gone into any
kind of afterlife.

He woke up again around noon
feeling refreshed yet also hungry. He rang for breakfast and his
butler soon brought a large tray which he placed on a special table
that fit onto the bed and allowed Jeremiah to eat in bed. The
butler poured some black tea from a silver teapot into the delicate
china cup and then withdrew leaving Jeremiah to his toast, soft
boiled egg, marmalade and other things that made life pleasant.
Jeremiah savoured every sip of tea and every bite he took. Life is
beautiful after all, he thought. For afters he enjoyed a fresh
grapefruit, its fresh scent providing a fitting end to a
scrumptious breakfast.