Agents of the Demiurge Read Online Free PDF Page B

make their
way home.
    As Hess worked his way outside with Elza,
Inspector Monterey appeared beside them. “I hope the two of you
plan to attend regularly. I've been following up on our
conversation yesterday, and both of you have spotless reputations
in the community.”
    Hess plastered a smile to his face. “We
already agreed to attend again next week. Congratulations on your
nomination, Investigator.”
    The Investigator gave the slightest
inclination of his head, then slipped away. Elza took his arm,
tapping as they walked out the door together. He is career man,
not interested in risking his reputation on someone who might not
be found guilty.
    As they strolled towards his house, Hess
tapped back. When are you going to tell me what is bothering
you?
    Elza pulled her arm free. “Just give me some
space, Hess.”
     
     

Chapter 5 - Erik / Iteration 2
    He took the name
Cazzel on his way into the village. Cazzel. A man from the previous
world who liked to torment and force himself on those weaker than
himself – typically women and young boys. A man who had the
misfortune to turn his attentions upon the Creator's Observer.
    A smile wormed its way onto his face as he
recalled his retribution against the original Cazzel. That man had
not enjoyed having a tent stake driven up his rectum one bit.
Judging by how he had begged and threatened and screamed, having
his tent burnt down on top of him hadn't been a pleasant experience
either. Even as a woman in a man's world, the Creator's Observer
had been superior.
    Though if there were more than one Observer,
then he wouldn't truly be the Creator's Observer. He would
be one of the Observers. The evidence that others existed
was thin, just stories of a man seeking his woman from another
world. But knowledge of the Creator had come from somewhere. If one
of these creatures had puzzled out the world's origins, then that
was a development the Creator would need to know. On the other
hand, if other Observers were out there, then he thought it
only right to get familiar.
    At the guest pavilion of this village, a man
sat on the ground and tended a small fire in the hearth. Cazzel
squatted beside the man. “Are you the one who greets visitors
around here?”
    The man shrugged as he poked at the fire.
“Women's crafts and talking to guests is the only work fit for me
anymore.”
    Cazzel frowned. “Why do you say that? You
look young and strong.”
    The man's lips twisted into a sneer. “Tens of
days ago I was young and strong. Today I am broken and
worthless.”
    “Well,” Cazzel said, “at least you are good
at welcoming visitors.”
    The man tossed his fire stick aside. “Welcome
to our village, stranger. Have you come so late in the day to eat
our food without sharing in our work? Will you leave early tomorrow
before anyone can ask you to help us dig a new well? Are you one of
those men who walks from village to village for free meals and
brags of your brave travels? Or do you search for a home with many
beautiful women and little work to go around? Tell me, stranger,
what manner of wanderer are you?”
    Cazzel cackled at the outburst. “I like you.
Shame you're broken. We could get into all sorts of mischief
otherwise.”
    “I am no friend to you.”
    “Oh, I never named you friend. I just enjoy a
little hostility here and there.” Cazzel leaned forward to study
the man. “Why is it you can't work?”
    The man spat on the ground between them.
“Entertain yourself.”
    “Are there worms in your leavings? Does blood
fill your phlegm? Or are you wrong in your head? What makes you
broken, angry man?”
    The man threw a wild punch. Cazzel shifted
his weight to let it pass, then reached for his walking stick. Its
end had a decorative knob carved to look like the face of a smiling
bald man. When he gave that knob a strong pull, it would come off
to reveal the walking stick had a sharpened point. It wasn't a
spear by any means, but it was a weapon. No one harassed the
Creator's