They stopped in an alley about a mile from the temple. Greg sank to his knees as soon as he was able, palms flat on the cool concrete wall and head bowed. His head felt like the snare drum of an overly enthusiastic amateur percussionist and his body felt chilled and weak. They really should have warned us about getting day-drunk on our inoculation day.
Deimos was leaning against the wall to his left, breathing deeply. Greg wondered again about the source of Deimos’ athleticism. Deimos insisted he was all-natural, and to his credit he certainly put in the effort, but Greg always had a sneaking suspicion Deimos was a designer baby. It would be nice if their differences in athleticism could be explained away so neatly. Bonus points for salving Greg’s ego about being such a lightweight.
“I think I need to get something to eat. I feel like shit right now, and that way I don’t have to dry heave when I finally throw up.”
“Sure Greg, sure. I’m pretty hungry myself. Filled with hunger, in fact. Petri’s bakery is just two blocks down from here, let’s stop in there.” Deimos replied.
They walked to the bakery without incident. As they opened the door, Greg felt a thrum emanate through the cyberspace. A large plump woman came bustling out of the back. “Oh my, Deimos and Greg, whatever happened to you two?” She threw her an arm around each of their shoulders, drew them tightly to her sides, and led them towards a booth in the back. As she did so, Greg felt the faintest of touches through cyberspace.
“Ahh, of course. It was a rough inoculation, I take it? You know, I did hear the new implant surgeon was a hack. Hippocrates will just let anyone join up these days, it seems. But don’t you worry, I can fix you right up. Now sit right here while I gather some supplies.”
Petri continued talking as they took a seat, “I have a couple medical processes still running around from when I was not much older than you. Both your leptin readings are much too low, and your estrogen is higher than normal as well. Have you two been drinking? It’s not even 5! Oh, the extravagance of youth. Now I’ll be making a multigrain treat for you two to split. A lovely sourdough base, and I’ll be topping it with a pumpkin-sunflower seed sprinkle. I’ll add a mild almond infusion to help your hangovers, not that you degenerates deserve it. And speaking of, Deimos, you must put that away. It is most distracting.” Greg looked at Deimos, seeing nothing amiss.
Petri continued, “If I were a young deacon, and I saw you walking down the street like that, I would have been on you in an instant.” Greg leaned forward, scanning Deimos intently for anything out of the ordinary.
“And besides it is most impolite. I’ll be surprised if you didn’t offend a dozen people between here and temple.” Greg surreptitiously peeked his head under the table.
“And I have no idea whatsoever how you earned it on the very day you were inoculated. Especially one as unruly as that. A unique augment is almost always reserved for a God’s worshippers, you know.” Greg’s head poked back up from under the table, cheeks burning red. He pushed some of his consciousness into cyberspace and immediately saw what Petri was talking about. Living flames of bright orange encircled Deimos’ virtual presence, running up and down his frame, curling over itself in knots, and spreading over the surfaces his body touched. Unlike all the constructs Greg had seen up to this point, this code respected physical objects as if they were truly there.
“Now lock it away while I tend to your wounds. Take yourself completely offline if you must.” A large plump woman, identical to Petri, bustled out of the back room carrying a variety of medical supplies. She began administering a cream to Deimos’ nose while the first Petri grabbed a cold compress and slipped it under Greg’s jacket to rest atop his right shoulder. The coolness eased the pain emanating from where Tretch had briefly dislocated his shoulder.
Deimos grunted from across the table as his broken nose was straightened out then wiggled back into place. “Oh, stop being such a baby. You’ll experience much worse than that before too long, I’m sure. Did you know that the Gods of War have posted a hunting contract for Ouray deacons? They say it went out to all the temples in North America, even to some of the deep sea outposts in the Pacific. The whole town is talking about it on the community channels.” Usually they keep this sort of thing in Europe, where’s there’s less pushback from the rest of the Pantheon. Gods know what they offered to let this type of thing slide. I’m sure you two will be quite alright though. The contract is only eligible to deacons, after all, so it’s going to be more like watching packs of puppies wrestling each other, less like high yield thermonuclear war. Which I appreciate, because I do NOT want to move again, no thank you. I just barely figured out the optimal convection speeds for such low air density, and I do not want to do those recalibrations again. Ooh, and speaking off, here comes your bread.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
A third Petri bustled out of the kitchen, carrying a large platter. Atop it stood a braided loaf of light brown sourdough bread, seeds sprinkled evenly upon its surface. “Now I’ll leave you two be. I’ll be in the other room is all, so just give me a ping if you need anything else.” Greg and Deimos were patted on their head and cheek by three sets of hands, and then the Petris bustled off into another room.
Greg and Deimos tore into the bread, tearing off chunks and shoving them into their mouths. They simultaneously moaned in pleasure, the heavenly bread enhanced by their long fast. Petri was an adherent of Epikouros, and her gastrointestinal delights never disappointed. They sat there silently for several minutes, enjoying themselves. Eventually, Greg broached a topic that had been weighing on him.
“Hey Deimos, we’ve been friends for a long time, and I absolutely did my best to have your back when we were in the temple, but I’ve been wondering. Why did you kill that woman?” Greg continued in a rush, “I’m sure you had a good reason, but I was still distracted by Leonna’s speech, so I didn’t see what happened. I just want to know how that played out, is all. Why you had to end her. If you’re comfortable telling me. No pressure to talk about it right now of course.”
Deimos met Greg’s eyes, face impassive. “For the unique augment. There was only two left.”
Greg squirmed uncomfortably. “Yeah, no, I understand the timing part, I was more wondering what led up to that. Like, the last time I saw her she was running away, so I missed it when she attacked you or whatever.”
Deimos face lit up with realization. “Sure Greg, I think I get it now. You’re looking for what happened.”
Greg nodded.
“So her and the big bloke turned around to run, right? But they had only taken a couple steps before the floaties spam message hit, you see. So, when I noticed that everyone was shocked still, including them, I ran up behind them on the stairs. Now the big guy was too tall when standing on the step above me, but she wasn’t. So I reached my hands around her head as quickly as I could, twisted, and broke her neck.”
Greg’s blood froze as dread filled him. “Deimos… What the FUCK? So I didn’t miss anything, you killed her just because? What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”
Deimos’ expression turned hard. “Stop being such a pussy Greg. This is how the world works. I saw an opportunity and took it. And hey, I got some sweetass loot for my trouble too.”
Greg was leaning over the table, hands pressed hard into the wood, although he didn’t remember ever standing. “You killed an innocent woman, and you’re acting like it’s nothing. You are a murderer. And you don’t even regret it.”
Deimos’ voice rose in volume to match Greg’s. “What the hell do you think you signed up for? All those afternoons daydreaming about having the power to move mountains and create oceans. How do you think you get there? Epikouros killed five million on her day of ascension, and she’s the Goddess of Pleasure. You think anyone ascends without getting their hands dirty? Everyone of higher rank kills people Greg. Everyone.” He gestured to the inner doors. “Hell, Petri probably has a body count of thousands.”
A voice came faintly from the inner doors. “It’s high three figures, actually, unless you count members of that zombie collective from eighty years ago. Which I don’t.”
Greg shoved himself away from the table and walked towards the door. “Fuck off you psychopath. I hope I never see you again.”
Deimos’ hand slammed down on the table. “Walk out of that goddamn door and you know what will happen.”
Greg froze.
“You know why we’re friends Greg. You know why mommy moved into town, why she had you. You walk out that door and all her plans are dashed. She loses her safe space to advance, and I bet she won’t be able to find another one fast enough. She’s going to be peeled for parts, layer by layer, and what’s left of her consciousness is going to spend an eternity running some godlings coffee machine.”
Greg whirled back to Deimos, grabbed the front of his toga with both hands, and shook him back and forth. “How dare you threaten my mother. I should kill you.”
Deimos didn’t resist. He met Greg’s eyes, then spoke in a soft and slow voice. “I’m not threatening anyone. I’m not the one breaking our parents’ contract. I’m just describing what’ll happen if you do. My dad thought I would need a vetted kid to grow up with to ensure I was properly socialized, and your mother needed a sanctuary so she could advance while continuing to remain unaffiliated. My socialization buddy goes away, so does your mom’s sanctuary. That’s the reality, and you and I simply cannot change that. I know you’re angry, but I don’t want you to make a mistake in a single moment of anger that will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
Greg let go of Deimos and sagged back into a seat. He felt raw from emotional whiplash. The feeling wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. This wasn’t the first time Deimos had pushed buttons then talked him back down. “Yeah, alright. Fuck you, but okay. I’ll stay. For now.”
“Good, we need each other. Even if, no, especially because our attitudes are so different. We balance each other out. Now check out my augment, I’m still trying to figure out how it’s supposed to work.” Deimos sent a schematics file to Greg, who he opened it up.