Treacherous

They started out over the charred remains of a city. The ground did crunch under their shoes, as Bell had expected it to.

“The motto of the Necromonger’s faith is ‘You keep what you kill’,” Riddick told her.

She nodded. She’d never heard it worded so, but it made sense. For the amount of devastation and lives lost they were responsible for they were obviously practicing some form of ‘take what you want’.

“I killed the Lord Marshall.”

Bell frowned. Her first thought was ‘good’, but then the strange implications clicked into place. She grinned, and then was laughing.

“You find something funny?”

She held her sore stomach as she nearly hiccupped with laughter. Oh, this was just too good. “Goddamn, yes!”

A minute passed before she was able to breathe. She might have gone on laughing forever if it didn’t hurt to. “The fucking irony. Dumbasses didn’t think of you when they were practicing that little dictum.”

He smiled, “Yeah, they did.”

She sobered and stared at him, “How?”

“Some sort of prophecy said a male Furyan would bring them down.”

Bell wanted to cry at the horror story behind those words. A race of people destroyed for the self-preservation of a barbaric race of zealots. And in the end it hadn’t worked anyway. Fate was a cruel bitch. The hell of Riddick’s life had been what had made him into the killer he’d needed to be to fulfill the prophecy.

“So that makes you…” She wanted him to say it. Couldn’t imagine it to be real unless he said it himself.

“Lord Marshal.”

Bell was truly in shock. Riddick at the head of all these Mongers? “How’s that feel?”

He cocked his head and she suddenly could feel that presence around her. She closed her eyes as she literally felt the apparition close on her, like it was squeezing her. It made her eyes tear. Confusion, anger, doubt, and that bit of humor at the irony of it all. He was like a child needing a hug, and he was the most powerful being in the universe. Go figure.

The force pulled away and she couldn’t feel it at all anymore. Did he know he was controlling it so well? But it left her with a glimpse of who the real Riddick was. No ruthless killer, no survival hardened warrior. Or at least not just those things. Every human had wants and doubts and like it or not, Riddick was human.

“So what’s Militia got to do with this?”

Again that cock of his head as he looked at her. “Forgot how smart you are. You’re as bad as Aereon and her damn calculating.”

Bell shuddered, “Don’t compare me to one of them.” Then she smiled, “You have Elementals around too? Boy, aren’t you popular.”

He considered her for a second. “The Militia have a sort of pact with the Necros.”

“For what?”

He shook his head and they started walking again, toward the ship at the head of the row. “Not sure yet. Something material. Vaako doesn’t know the details, so it’s big. Should be answers in the computer system, but I haven’t looked yet.”

“Vaako?”

“Commander general. Put him in charge of everything.”

“So how’d you get off U.V.6?”

“Mercs.” His tone had changed completely. The light tone was replaced by growled hatred. “Fucking Elemental put up the bounty. Imam steered ‘em in the right direction.”

“You told Imam?”

That hurt. He hadn’t trusted her. And Imam had kept the secret from her, and then betrayed Riddick in the end anyway.

Riddick was looking at her fully. Seeing his eyes was becoming less startling. “Guess I told the wrong person,” he said softly.

She shrugged, warmed by his belated confidence. “Shoulda kept the ship. You were safe.”

“Couldn’t take that chance.”

Asshole. “Yeah, I saved your life, helped you off T2 and then planned on handing you over. Thanks for the credit.”

“Thanks for the peaches.”

Bell grinned. Despite his unwillingness to trust her she’d proven her loyalty. She’d kept his secret for years, and he knew it.

“Now it’s your turn, Jezebella. What’s your secret? Why did Militia go after you?”

A spike of anguish through her heart, and her face heated. She’d known this day was coming for five years. But how to tell him?

“Not here.”

They were coming up on the big ship at the front. Mongers were everywhere, guarding, moving about in groups.

“Basilica Ship,” he informed her in his curt way. “Holds the hall called Necropolis. All conversions were done here. The other ships are for transport, storage, other shit.”

Bell stopped at the bottom of the huge steps leading up to the impressive ship. It was like a tower, stretching high. At the top a small ship exited from somewhere. She hated to think of it as beautiful, but it was. “What’s conversion?”

Riddick started up the steps and she followed, though more slowly. Seven steps and then a break. Riddick stopped at the first landing and looked back. “’Learning that one pain can lessen another’, was how I heard it. The converts were strung up, some sort of injector in their necks. Left the mark of the faith.”

She nodded, remembering the scar on her nurse’s necks. “Hmm, sounds like fun.”

They continued up the steps to the huge double doorway.

“My Lord, your guard was sent into the city to locate you.”

Bell raised a brow and stared. The Monger that had stepped from the open maw of a door was glaring at Riddick. ‘My Lord’? Oh, jeez, this was bad. Riddick? My Lord? She couldn’t help smiling.

“They didn’t find me,” Riddick told the man, obviously pleased to deliver that information. “I don’t need a fucking guard, Vaako.”

This was Vaako? Bell studied the Monger more closely. Put in charge of an army of killers. Why had he gained so much trust from Riddick? He was big, an inch or more taller than Riddick, and nearly as big physically. Long hair hung down his back in intricate braids, while the sides of his scalp were roughly shaved. The skin of his face was smooth, bronzed by sun or heritage. He was handsome but for his eyes. Pale eyes were intense, and at present narrowed on Riddick.

“Helion is still in unrest. Resistance fights are more and more common.”

Bell watched Riddick become interested suddenly.

“You are fighting?”

The Commander held his ground, his stance becoming formal. “We do not. Our way is not to flee, but by your order there have been no more deaths.”

Bell frowned. He appeared upset by this, and not in the expected way. It wasn’t his pride in fighting that he lamented, it was the deaths that he could cause. Either the guy was a sadist in the worst way, or there was a depth to the Necromonger faith that she hadn’t considered.

“Riddick.”

Vaako looked at her like he was just seeing her. She pushed back her hood and he did a double take.

“Vaako, this is Bell. She’ll be staying for a while.”

The Commander bowed to her, as if just being in Riddick’s company made her special. “Dinner is prepared and waiting your arrival, My Lord.”

Riddick just nodded and moved past the man. Bell followed carefully, her eyes on the Monger until she was through the doors. Once inside she forgot all about him.

The ship was gigantic. But she’d never expected this. Riddick had called it the Basilica Ship and had said the Necropolis was inside it. And he’d meant it. The thing before her, barely discernable as something other than part of the ship, was a great hall. With a little imagination she could see it sitting on some rough mountain surrounded by land and trees. But here it was, transported whole.

Heavy approaching footsteps drew her attention. Vaako stood over her, his attention now just curious.

“Few non-converts are allowed the freedom of the Basilica.”

Bell looked toward Riddick who either hadn’t noticed she wasn’t following, or didn’t care. He hadn’t entered the Necropolis, but had gone to the right, down a hall of similar grandeur. A few more seconds and he would be out of sight.

“It is beautiful,” she whispered, meaning it.

He nodded, looking past her at the hall. A small prideful smile thinned his lips and turned them up at the corners.

“What is your purpose here?”

Bell was surprised by his candor. She’d expected treachery, backstabbing and fawning, not sincere directness. “Same as yours,” she told him. “I’m here for him.”

Vaako looked down the hall where Riddick had gone, now out of sight. “Has he spoken of his purpose?”

She smiled. How anxious these people must be. To not be given any answers to their fate. That would be troubling for anyone, much less those at the mercy of a man like Riddick. “I don’t know what his plans are. I have my own vendetta. But while I have you, could you tell me more about this?” She motioned her hand around to the vast ship.

The Monger nodded curtly, “What is it you wish to know?”

“Could we follow him?” she asked with a smile, looking in the direction Riddick had gone. “I’m starving.”

Vaako immediately moved, his pace steady, but slow enough for her to keep up with, his hands held behind his back in a non-threatening way that made him look strictly elegant. Bell had to admire him. His outfit defined the hard muscle of him, showing his capable strength. If all Mongers were as good-looking as him she might have to argue for them.

“Riddick said your motto is ‘keep what you kill’. What else can you tell me?”

“Necroism is based on the belief that this ‘verse must be cleansed of life in order for the Underverse to prosper. That this life is only the beginning and we must pass through the Threshold to be free.”

She stared at the man openly. He was dead serious. He wasn’t just spouting some routine line of bullshit used as an excuse to kill. He believed in it.

“The Threshold is death?”

The Monger nodded, looking back at her as openly as she was looking at him. “There is a gate to the Underverse called the Threshold, but the term has been expanded to denote any passing from this ‘verse.”

“Why haven’t you been cleansed of life?” she asked, feeling strange asking someone why he wasn’t dead.

“We are soldiers for the cause, dedicated to bringing enlightenment to the non-believers. We will all pass through the Threshold in our due time.”

Bell felt like the ground beneath her feet had been skewed. Their beliefs were narcissistic, forcing their religious beliefs on others, and it just happened to be death. By his explanation they wouldn’t stop until humankind was extinct. “You envy the dead,” she supplied.

“The dead have found enlightenment. They will not have to suffer in this ‘verse any longer.”

They reached the end of the hallway and Vaako turned to the right, down another long passage. As they went the lights automatically glowed to a dim level and then darkened after they’d passed.

“And if Riddick is to remain Lord Marshall, what is required of him?”

Vaako frowned, “You sound like him. The privilege cannot be passed off. He is Lord Marshall until his due time.”

Bell nodded, “I understand, but I repeat my question. What is required of him?”

“In past Lord Marshal’s have traveled to the Underverse.”

“Have you been there?”

He shook his head, “No. Few have, and less know of its location. The Lord Marshals have passed through and returned, giving them the status of Holy Half-dead. They have an astral self that is no longer human, and can be very powerful.”

Bell nodded thoughtfully. She doubted she could pry as much information out of Riddick. But he had mentioned a computer system. Maybe they could find more there.

“So what is conversion?”

His posture remained rigidly straight, she noted. Was the man proud, or very meticulous, or was there a more unnatural explanation?

“Purification through pain. Converts are shown how one pain can lessen another. Eventually pain can lead to spiritual bliss.”

Bell was frowning, “Are you in pain?”

“The universe is a painful place,” came his rehearsed answer.

Finally Vaako stopped before wide double doors that were opulent enough to be significant. Inside a chime was automatically signaled.

“Come in.” Riddick’s voice sounded tight, aggravated.

They entered to find him pacing. He looked up at them before snapping a hundred and eighty degree turn and taking a path that took him to the far side of the large room. Bell stopped breathing. She was done for.