Jason Jones Deals With the Great One

The Great One's envoy, silhouetted against the floodlights' harsh glare, spoke to Jason Jones. "Are you impressed with our creation, here?" He gestured to the stone room around them, roofed in blue vines.

Jason Jones shook his head. "It's... definitely something, but that's not what I came here to talk about."

"Yes?" inquired the envoy.

"Back in my home in Iowa, there were several attacks," said Jason Jones somewhat nervously. The two seven-foot-tall spiked guards to each side of him were somewhat intimidating. "People were killed. I followed the clues I found, and found this part of Manchuria at the end of the trail. And you're at the heart of that. So I have to ask: were you involved in the attacks?"

"The centaurs are their own creatures. We were not involved in their foolishness. But, yes, certain of our creatures were present in the time you describe," the envoy said coolly and tonelessly. "None of them harmed you. By our orders. We did not appreciate their destruction."

"They killed three people and all the centaurs!" Jason shouted. He was swiftly growing enraged by the casual callousness of the Great One's envoy. "Of course I destroyed them!"

"Wasteful," the envoy noted. "Nonetheless, you are here, and so their purpose is fulfilled. It is good that you came. The centaurs are unreliable, and we were loathe to dedicate more of our own creatures to the purpose."

Jason clenched his fists. He tried to control himself, thinking again of the old man's advice, and his own father's. If violence was ever going to get him killed, it would be here, in the heart of the Great One's base. "Why do you want me here?" Jason spat through gritted teeth.

"It is none of your concern. What is important is that you remain here for... say, the next month and a half. After that time, your use to us will pass, and you will be free to go," the envoy explained emotionlessly.

The ground trembled under Jason Jones's feet as he shook in rage. "And if I choose to go now?" he demanded of the envoy.

"That is unacceptable," responded the Great One's mouthpiece. "If you choose to go back, it will become necessary to ensure that there is no more 'back' to go to. That is, should you foolishly try to leave, your town, and any other relatives that you might wish to shelter with, will be eliminated. I hope you see that our demands, by contrast, are hardly unreasonable-"

But Jason saw no such thing. Screaming inarticulately, he charged the envoy, planning to smash past him and attack the Great One himself before his guards could respond. As he took his first step, black vines (tentacles? something else?) exploded out of the ground and entangled Jason's ankles. He was well trained, though; compensating quickly, Jason hit the ground, bounced back up, and used the momentum to accelerate in the opposite direction, breaking the loose hold the tendrils had on him. The guards were moving - one of them had just occupied the space Jason held when he tripped while the other was tensing to spring at Jason - but Jason was running, rebounding off a wall and dodging past the guards. He shot past the envoy, hoping that he'd be unable to move quickly enough to get out of the guards' way (and thus serve as a very temporary shield for Jason), and ran straight into the Great One's painting -

- and something ran straight into him. Jason was knocked through the painting and onto the ground. He was pinned; and, a moment later, he realized that there were several six-inch long spikes penetrating his body. He screamed again, in agony.

Through the red haze of pain and thwarted fury, it was difficult for Jason to see, though thankfully, this area was lit significantly better than the other. He could move his arms, still, though it shot spikes of pain up his nervous system; his left leg; his head. He turned to the right. Wall. He turned to the left. The envoy; impaled on the side of the guard that was impaling Jason. So much for that. And just ahead: Ah, thought Jason. I really didn't expect the Great One to look like that.

Directly ahead of Jason was a large and complex network of what looked like some sort of, for lack of a better term, organic machinery. Large whitish-greyish cylinders and spheres were distributed somewhat haphazardly through the zone, varying in size from that of a grapefruit to the size of a Volkswagen Bug. Curling tubes linked the parts of the 'machine', and vines twirled in from above. The whole array, probably at least a hundred square yards by Jason's estimate (from his rather poor position), gurgled and fizzed constantly. Jason was surprised that he hadn't heard it from the other side of the painting.

Unfortunately, Jason was in no mood to appreciate this. He growled at the Great One's machine, "How am I going to kill you?"

To his vast surprise, the envoy's head (the only part of him Jason could see) twitched as Jason spoke. Impossibly animated, it responded to his comments with its usual, unemotional tone. "In fact, we're in rather better position to kill you. It's a shame that it's not an option. Orders from above. Also, the small matter of a prophecy. 'He shall not be slain by earth or sky, fire or water', I was told, though of course I wasn't there when it was delivered." It seemed to be musing now; a hint of humor had crept into its voice.

Jason, who had been gathering his strength while the Great One rambled, gave a sudden push. The guard barely budged, and pain flared through Jason's body. He subsided and watched as one of the spheres cracked open. Something fell out: a sort of strange little wheeled creature, one eye but no other orifices, holding a dish on its back. It rolled over to Jason and poured the contents of the dish onto him: a transparent slime. Jason struggled, but to no avail; it solidified quickly, trapping him even further. The guard rolled off, and more slime was poured over the wounds. It burned like acid, but Jason thought, Better than bleeding to death.

Something levered him up, and the envoy turned to Jason's new position and said, "Please wait." Then the guard impaling him pulsed over to a vat, which opened at its approach, and shook the envoy into it, shredding its flesh in the process. Jason felt rather sick watching, and turned to look at other parts of the room. It was even larger than he'd guessed; perhaps two or three times his earlier guess. There was sparse movement, ill-defined creatures tugging things and lugging in creatures: birds, rodents... the centaur. Jason swore foully. He'd never thought to wonder where the centaur went after the Great One's envoy arrived - but Jason hadn't seen him since. There was a bright red slash across his neck. Jason turned away again as the creatures pushed Jason's former companion into a vat. For the first time, he wondered: What did the Great One mean by a 'prophecy'?

Then a cylinder split open nearby, and another envoy stepped out. He looked slightly different from the other one: perhaps better-shaped, or with a lighter skin tone. But the mark of the upward-pointing wedge was on his neck, just as with his predecessor. The envoy walked over to where Jason stood propped up by something unseen and looked him over appraisingly. "Right now, you're weak. You're vulnerable. We wonder what would happen if we just dumped you in one of the processing vats?" The envoy sighed. "No doubt there would be a sudden earthquake that collapsed our lair around us; or the acids would dissolve the immobilizing agent before it dissolved you, and you'd tear your way out, crippling us; or the Enemy would launch a last-minute attack and rescue you. Better not to risk it. It's time to go, Mr. Jones."

Without any sign from the envoy, Jason lurched forward, propelled by whatever was lifting him. He rocked up and down as he was pushed, moving past the many vats of the Great One to an exit on the other side of the room. As he passed, cylinders and spheres opened, spilling out strange creatures. A sphere opened to reveal more of the three-eyed stalk creatures, which scurried ahead of Jason. Three cylinders split and spilled out six (seven?) arm/legged creatures, about four feet tall, whose walk resembled a roll. They vanished into an exit and, moments later, appeared again, now brandishing rifles. They moved to surround Jason as two more spheres opened and a flock of blue birds flew out of each. Every one of them was marked with the upward-facing wedge on their heads; but not one of them had red on their wings, Jason noted. They burst through the vines, and were seen no more.

After a very uncomfortable few minutes, Jason saw daylight once more. Creatures swarmed around him; dozens of birds circled overhead, dispersing quickly, while eye-creatures latched onto the flatbed trucks ahead of Jason and Jason himself. He barely felt it through the slime. More of the many-armed creatures, heavily armed, positioned themselves around Jason. The envoy, last to arrive, sat down next to Jason. "We care a great deal about your safety," he quipped with the faintest hint of humor in his cold voice.

The trucks lurched into motion, and Jason spotted a dead bird by the side of the flatbed he rode in. It was blue, with red wing-feathers, and was covered in blood. Probably pecked to death. A small creature picked it up and carried it back toward the Great One's vats; and the trucks rumbled westward, toward the setting sun, toward the mountains.