“Alright, let’s see if I got it right,” said Mark, driving east through the desert. “Your parents are also siblings, and the Thel guy is your uncle, who also married his sister?”
“That’s right,” mumbled Horan, draped over the backseat and staring at the car ceiling. “And don’t give me that look, we Primoi marry our siblings all the time. Okay, just the old ones. After five thousand years, it becomes hard to avoid.”
“You’re talking about the fact that that kind of thing is expected like it makes the idea less icky.”
“Well, it does! The earlier generations didn’t have many other people around to make more Primoi with. Besides, we don’t have genes or whatever, so it’s no big deal. 'Sibling' is nominal at best.”
“Of course, just look at how folks like you turned out. Say, what’s our plan to get across the Suez?”
Horan looked up at Mark. “The what?”
Mark slowed the car down. “The… Suez Canal. Y’know, that giant ditch that splits Africa and Asia? Been around for, like, a century? Connects the Mediterranean and Red Sea?”
Horan slid back into the seat, turning horizontally as he did to fit under the roof. “Wow, you humans did that? Must’ve taken you guys decades. So, what about it?”
“Well, we just arrived. Felt like it was a relevant question.” Mark stopped the car and got out. The sandy plains were split in half by a vast channel of deep blue water, probably 1,000 feet across.
“Wow, that’s… Big.” Mumbled Horan as he stepped out of the car. “We can drive across that, right? It can’t be too deep.”
Mark shrugged. “Well, it’s deep enough for giant cargo ships to comfortably pass through. Also, it’s probably radioactive.”
Horan cringed slightly. “Yeesh. So we can’t cross it?”
Mark looked off to the sides of the canal. “Well, there are definitely a few bridges merchants use to get across, but they’re probably tolled.”
Horan began strolling towards the edge of the canal. “That’s a bummer. Well, I wouldn’t want to waste what few resources you have, so I’m just going to fly across. You can get back to whatever it was you were doing with your life. Have fun dying, or whatever!”
Horan lifted into the air and began to float across the canal. Panicking, Mark ran after him. “W-wait, no! Stop!”
As if a rope had pulled taut around his ankles, Horan abruptly stopped in mid-air. Caught off-guard, he gave out and plummeted into the canal a few feet from the bank, a short “Wha-” escaping him. Floundering, he called out to Mark. “Get me out, get me out!”
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Mark hastily pulled Horan out of the water, who stumbled away and slumped onto the ground. “What was that? I just… didn’t!”
Mark ran a hand through his hair. “Wow, it actually worked.”
Horan turned and sluggishly rounded on Mark. “What worked? What do you know?”
Mark turned and started walking back to the car. “Oh, that makes this so much easier! C’mon, we’re finding another way round.”
Without thinking, Horan got up and started striding towards Mark. “We’re not finding squat until you tell me what worked and why I fell into the death river. Also, what does radiation do again? Turn around right now and answer me, you impudent little piece of garbage!”
Mark chuckled slightly. “Yeah, you know that contract you signed? Wasn’t me who became your servant. Now, you have to obey all of my commands. Sucks to suck, friendo!” He broke down into a fit of maniacal giggling.
“Why you little… You think a piece of paper can stop me?” Horan raised his arms and called up a wind around the two. “I am a Primus! Immortal master of the sky as old as human civilization! Some words will not save you! You, pathetic human, will die for this!”
He lowered his arms and directed the wind at Mark. Abruptly, the small tempest died down with no ill effect on either. Mark grinned feverishly. “I appear to still be alive. Don’t you remember? You’re the ruler of your Domain? Your word is your bond? As long as that contract is in effect, you can’t harm me, and you can’t disobey me. So here’s the real plan:
You are coming with me to Greece, at which point you will make those guys get rid of that Thel guy and save the world or whatever. Afterwards, I will find a prospective buyer who is willing to take the walking gold factory that is you off of my hands. You will spend the rest of your infinite days making all of us fabulously wealthy, and I will spend the rest of my numbered days living it up, post-apocalypse. Also, from here on out, you can’t be more than a mile from me, just so we’re clear. Sound good? Sounds good.”
“You…” Horan got up and charged at Mark, fist raised. But before he could land the blow, his arm went limp and he stumbled to the ground. Horan looked up at Mark, his single eye brimming with resentment. “You’re messing with things beyond your comprehension, human. When we get to Greece, those Greeks you think will save you are going to tear you to atoms. You can’t enforce that contract of yours when you’re dead, huh? You can’t win here! Humans will never win against Primoi!” He broke down laughing, which quickly dissolved into sobbing into the sand.
“Please… You can’t do this. You humans are compassionate creatures, aren’t you? Let me go and I’ll shower you with wealth! Power! I’ll make you pharaoh of these lands! You’ll never suffer again! Just think about what you’re willing to do to another living, breathing Pri… immor… entity! Have a heart!”
Mark scoffed. “I used to have a heart. Look where it got me. Now, you’re going to be my ticket to a life where I don’t need a heart. C’mon, let’s find a way across the channel.”
Dejectedly, Horan stood up and trudged back to the car with Mark. “Ooh, look at Mister Tortured Soul over here! What, did your favourite puppy die or something when you were a baby?”
Mark shrugged. “Wow, I guess I did sound a little full of myself back there. I’ll work on… No. You are not going to do this. You are not going to talk, and we are going to find a bridge somewhere else. Now get back in the car.”