What Comes Next

Marlo opened his eyes again. Then frowned. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He hadn’t exactly felt it, not for any length of time that was significant enough to count, but it was hard not to notice a multiple hundred-ton lump of metal pass through your body at eighty kilometres per hour. It was completely impossibly he could have been brought back from that. He had died. Unquestionably. Then it hit him. Of course, he had died. This was what came next. He was stood, wearing white, light, clothes he’d never seen before, in a resplendent room. It looked like a bank lobby, though not any bank he’d ever been to. Perfectly smooth, faintly cool marble was beneath his bare feet. There were golden pillars all around him, and soothing, warm lights overhead. This felt as much like the afterlife as anywhere could.

“Ah, good.” A buzzing voice said. Marlo’s eyes focused, and he noticed a small figure in front of him. Dressed all in dark clothing, a man stood there. Well, not stood. Blurred. The outline of the man was fuzzy, and faint images of him appeared and disappeared all over the room, just in the corner of Marlo’s eyes. Every time he turned to look at one, it disappeared. This same blur effect made the name’s voice buzz and hum as he spoke, like a fly’s “You appear to have come to terms with your own mortality, or should I say, lack thereof. Saves me time.”

“This is… heaven?” Marlo asked. The man snorted, making a sound like a blender starting.

“Heaven? For the likes of you? Don’t bet on it.”

“Huh? I died saving someone. That has to count for something.”

“Oh, remember that do you? Good for you. But think hard kid. You sure you never did anything bad ever?”

“I mean, ever, sure. But surely not enough that I’d not be-”

“We’ll see later. No, this ain’t Heaven kid. But luckily for you, this ain’t Hell either. This is Limbo. And I have the pleasure of being your introductory guide.” There was suddenly a water bottle in the man’s hand. He hadn’t walked anywhere for it or pulled it out of anywhere. Nothing there one instant, water bottle the next. The label read DVIN. Marlo felt that was important for some reason. The man took a swig. “The name’s Hermes.”

“Hermes?” Marlo asked, trying to keep up, and failing. “The God?”

“Something like that.” Hermes said. Marlo had to admit, if he were to imagine Hermes at any point, he’d have imagined a little… more. The man in front of him was short and thin. Over his clothes, which were a mix of greys and darker greys, was a large, black cloak. He wore a hat so wide brimmed if you put another one on his feet he could spin to places rather than walk to them, and a pair of red sunglasses which peered out from below at Marlo.

“Aren’t you supposed to have wings on your shoes and hat?” he asked, weakly.

“They’re in the wash.” Hermes yawned, sounding like a desk fan “Listen, kid, can we get a move on? I’ve got four hundred new clients just since you got here. Splitting my attention between you all gets distracting, so I’d like to get your examination over with quickly.”

“I mean… I don’t know what it is… but sure.”

“Five hundred.” Hermes checked his watch. “Let me just show you. Hold still.”

“Hold still? Why would I need to – Huh?” As Marlo was talking, Hermes blurred behind him. He tried to turn, but one hand placed itself on his back, and one gripped the back of his head. With strength that was unlike anything he’d ever felt, his head was grated back into place, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to show that it definitely could. The hand on his back tilted, and he was lifted slightly off the ground. Before he even had chance to react to this, the world blurred. He rocketed forwards at incredible speeds out of a pair of double doors, and down corridor after corridor, snapping left and right at speed he had never experienced in his entire life. Gold and white blurred past, and he shut his eyes as he begin to feel terribly ill. This made it worse. The wind tore at him, feeling like it was trying to shear his face off. his hair flapped behind him, almost at risk of being left behind, and all his organs felt like they were crowding up in his head. He started to scream but couldn’t even hear it.

Then, just as suddenly, he stopped. The sudden termination of the fierce force pushing him forwards actually made him fall forwards, collapsing to the floor. Behind him, there were a series of awful grating sounds. Gasping and gagging, he managed to roll over and saw that Hermes was pulling on a lever which was – he blinked. Yes, it was set directly into his leg. From it, running all the way down his legs to his feet, was a blue line, some glowing blue fluid set below it. His legs were not dark trousers like Marlo had thought. They were metal. Even his feet, the toes of which had snapped out into what looked like claws. No, not claws. Tiny wings. Tiny wings turned upside down, the metal feathers acting like running spikes. Behind him, on the marble floor was a line of scorch marks, as if something had come to a violent stop. Then, Marlo’s body overtook his mind, and he turned back to retch onto the floor. Nothing came out, not even ectoplasm, which a small part of him had been hoping for.

“Not much point in doing that.” Hermes noted, “Your soul has never had a meal in its entire existence, so there’s nothing to vomit.”

“Some… Warning… would be nice…” Marlo pants, in between dry heaves.

“Why bother? You all react like this just the same.” He pushed the lever, which must have been brakes of some kind, back into his thighs, and with a brush of his hands, they were indistinguishable. The claws retracted back into his feet, and he cracked his neck “Seems like an overreaction. I’m doing it all the time and it doesn’t affect me.”

Marlo remembered the constant blur all around Hermes, which was still going. It hadn’t stopped once. “Are you… How many conversations with people are you having right now?”

“I said, didn’t I? Five hundred. Well, six hundred now.”

“But… how…”

“Well I tend to arrive once you’ve said all your words, say all of mine, and while they’re being formed into real words, run back home, grab a snack, have a quick nap, and then come and do the next one. Everyone else didn’t want the gate-watcher job but I must admit, as boring as it is, it’s not hard. I can go much faster than I did for you there, but I’m supposed to let you see my augmentations to ease you into the world. It’s not fun turning them on and off a hundred times a second, but at least I get to put it on company expenses. That answer your question?”

That wasn’t what Marlo had meant. He knew that this was a god, but something about this flagrant, casual display of power… It was terrifying. He still couldn’t see Hermes’ face below that mask, aside from the occasional glint of gold, which could be piercings, fake teeth, or glasses. But he could sense that Hermes did not like him. Not one bit. This felt like cold courtesy, like a police officer telling a convict their rights before locking them up. A creeping sense of dread overcame his queasiness, an even more uncomfortable feeling.

“Right, that’s enough. hurry up now, some of us have schedules.” Hermes reached for Marlo, but Marlo got up before he could, wiping himself off. He realised that Hermes must have been holding back permanently, keeping that terrible speed in check. Even a brush from a finger going that fast would shred him. Was that why he’d been lifted off the floor? To stop him from having his lower half grated off on the marble. And that was another thing. Hermes was strong enough to lift him one-handed, and not react. He had to get away from here. Obviously, he couldn’t outrun the guy, but he had said he was the gate-watcher. That meant that there was a place that wasn’t gate, which he wasn’t watching. Ergo, he just had to get there. Hermes seemed to be trying to get him there too. So, collaborating would get him away from Hermes. He nodded. “Ready when you are.”

“I was ready when you arrived. Earlier, even.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting?” Marlo tried. Hermes shook his head.

“Everyone does.” He blurred over to a desk and flopped down into a chair. He suddenly had a clipboard in his hand and flicked through. He spun a pencil around, and said “Cause of death?

“Er… Train?”

“Train how? Choked in one, sucked out the toilet, one fell on you, died in construction?”

“Got hit by one?”

“Oh, I see. What kind?”

“Uh… it was blue I think.”

“Blue. Great. I mean type, dumbass. Steam, electric. Frat boy?”

“Oh, electric.”

“I see. Wait… did I ask you when?”

“When I died? Uh… I think it was Tuesday the ninth of… July? 2019.”

“I meant the time exactly. That’s kind of important.”

“Erm… past four, I know that.”

“Past four.” Hermes stopped, or at least, blurred in place while writing.

“But before five.”

“Well, that’s a load of help.”

“Sorry I wasn’t really checking the time; I was more preoccupied.”

“Whatever, someone will have to deal with that who isn’t me. So, did you off yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, right, company policy. Do forgive my insensitivity.” Hermes, not looking very apologetic, kicked his feet onto the desk. The second his blurring legs touched it; it was worn down into sawdust. Marlo leaned back and blinked to keep it out of his eyes, but Hermes didn’t seem to notice. “Did you kill yourself then?”

“No.”

“Well, then how’d you manage to find yourself in that situation? Trains are real loud kid. I know people like you find ‘em fast but you’ve got time to find a way to not get hit by them if you can see them.”

“There was a woman and-” Marlo breathed in some sawdust and started coughing.

“Hold on.” Hermes suddenly had a jar in his hand and dropped what looked like a microchip into it. Marlo had just enough time to read “Death’s caused by women” on the label, and the thousands upon thousands of chips inside before it disappeared. “That’s number thirty-seven thousand two hundred and eighty-four this week. Just a few more schmucks like you and I’ll be able to buy that new auto coolant refill for my bed. It’ll save me a whole eight nanoseconds in the mornings, and I’ll finally get to sleep in. Continue.”

“She was tied to the tracks, and I thought I… had more time to get her out.” Marlo’s throat was suddenly dry. He could hear the roar of the train in his ears and feel the shaking of the rails below him. He swore he could feel the woman’s frantic sweaty grip on his leg. He realised he was shaking and tried to stop himself. “I got her out but… I didn’t make it.”

“Yes, well, very noble of you.”

“I didn’t even know her name,” Marlo muttered, wiping his brow. He felt sick again but forced it down. This was not a good time or place for this.

“Yes, yes, don’t be so smug. I realise you might have been raised believing we all love mindless feats of bravery, but we value more than pure idiocy here, so don’t expect special treatment.”

Marlo closed his eyes and tried to push the rushing mass of metal from his mind. But as he did, he remembered something.

“DVIN!” he said, suddenly. Hermes’ head jerked up.

“What’s that?”

“The train that hit me… it had the logo DVIN on it. Does that… mean anything?”

Hermes showed him the back of the clipboard. It was stamped with the same four thick capital letters, white with a purple and navy-blue outline. “Sounds like you got hit by one of our Material branch vehicles. Apply for reimbursement, see how that goes in a few hundred years. Is that all?”

“All I remember.”

“Well, we’ll see all that you remember.” Hermes was suddenly next to Marlo. He jumped back in shock, but Hermes was coming in with something sharp and metallic, getting closer and closer.

“What are you doing? Is that - Oh my god, get away-”

Before Marlo could get away, Hermes stabbed a needle right into his eye. It was thick, and the most painful thing Marlo had ever experienced. Spikes of blazing pain ripped through his head, driving every coherent thought out of his mind. He shrieked and flailed, feeling it wiggle as it dug deeper and deeper, before getting so deep he couldn’t feel anything at all.

“Yeah, yeah.” Not a single one of Marlo’s swings came even close to Hermes as he shrieked in pain and tried to push away “We both know you can’t feel anything on your brain so quit screaming. Just… there!”

He yanked it out, and Marlo collapsed to the ground. He tried to sob, but that made it hurt even more. The rapid movements of his eye just made the hole that had been pierced through hurt more and more. He wanted to throw up again, and his screaming reached new heights. Between his howls he managed to gasp out:

“My eye! Oh my God it hurts so much! Why did you-”

“It’s fixing itself as we speak, so shut up,” Hermes said, from somewhere Marlo couldn’t see. His cries fell into weak whimpers, as he slowly felt the pain recede. It petered out, and he gasped for air, still clutching the violated socket.

“You can thank Isis for that.” Hermes said, “Not sure why we’re wasting her on the likes of you but whatever.”

“Why…” Marlo wheezed, taking his hand away from his eye to get to his knees. “Did you do that?!” He swung for Hermes, not mentally present enough to predict the god simply not being there when his fist went through the air.

“Please kid. I’ve dealt with Viking Berserkers who died and show up here still fighting. Your scrawny ass isn’t going to do much.”

“I thought I asked… for warning…” Marlo stopped, rubbing his eyes. There was only a phantom ache now, and it didn’t seem to have impacted his vision, but the sensation was going to stick with him for a long time

“Maybe you did. I wasn’t listening. Besides when I give people that they look at me like I’m going to stick a needle in their eye. Apprehension causes the muscles to tense up. You were one of the lucky ones who got to keep their eye. Now, let’s see how lucky you are other than that.”

Now he had calmed down, Marlo saw what he was holding. It was not just a needle, though that was a large part of it, sticking out of a ring of white metal. The entire thing was semi-circular, an arc of white metal attached to a flat surface that had a screen. It looked like a door handle taken off of a door, with a phone taped to the base, and a blood-stained needle taped to the other side.

“This is a Mortis.” Hermes said, tapping the side of the strange contraption. “It reads your Compos Mentalis.”

“My…”

“Your memory, how much of your life you’ve retained mentally as your soul left your brain. You’re pretty coherent, so you’re looking like upper fifty, sixty, maybe even seventy percentile.”

“Wait… you can forget things? Just… show up with no idea what happened?”

“Did you think I was asking those questions because I wanted to be your friend?”

“Are you saying people can show up not knowing who they are?”

“Most do. You’ve been my quietest customer today. I had some dope show up just babbling about his daughter. Couldn’t remember his own name, or what had happened to him. Nothing in his head at all. Was a bastard to work with, I’ll tell you for nothing. Funny thing was, even though the only thing he could think of was his daughter, yet he couldn’t even remember her name!” Hermes snorted “You apes really are pathetic.”

“But that’s… oh my God…” Marlo’s entire body shuddered “That’s horrifying.”

“Why?” Hermes looked up from the screen and cocked an eyebrow. “It didn’t happen to you. You got lucky. Plenty of your consciousness followed your soul. You things can barely remember things back in life, so no wonder you can’t remember much when you pass over here.”

The machine beeped and Hermes looked down. He didn’t say anything for a second. Then he removed that massive hat. Underneath, he was dark-skinned, with black locks running down his head. His eyes were covered with golden lenses. At first, Marlo thought they were sunglasses. But then he realised. There were no arms, nothing anchoring them to his face. They were built into his eye sockets. The man had no eyelashes, probably so they didn’t push up against them. His eyes were guarded against the world by these pieces of glass he couldn’t take off. Marlo shuddered at the thought. Then he realised. The reason he could see this so clearly was because Hermes had stopped blurring.

Hermes reached slowly into his coat and pulled out a strange device. It looked to be carved of dark oak, a small orb. A carved, cartoonish head, oval-shaped with a forehead ending in a green crystal. Two similar green masses were set into the eye sockets. He opened his mouth, and the head did the same, roiling green fog pouring out to dissipate on the marble floor. As Marlo watched in fascination, Hermes said “Hermaphroditus, can you take over for me for the day? Call in a few of your siblings and tell the office I’ve ordered them to release the back-ups.”

Marlo’s blood ran cold. He tried to surreptitiously take a step back, but when he looked behind him, Hermes was there, shooting him an impossible-to-read look before saying “I don’t care if you have friends over, I’m asking you to do something simple, as your father, the man who feeds, clothes and gives you shelter. No? I knew that Babylonian was a bad influence.” He turned to Marlo “Hold on.”

He disappeared. Marlo’s eyes widened, and he looked around frantically for an exit. His eyes just settled on a pair of red doors, when they were flapping closed, and Hermes was back in the room. His hands were stained red, up to the elbows. As Marlo stared in horror, Hermes lifted the strange shrunken head back to his ear and said “There. Now you don’t have friends over anymore. Still no? Hmm, I wonder how that nice girl Salamacis is doing these days. We haven’t seen her in so long, perhaps we should have her over for dinner again. I think she’s quite fond of you- No? You’ll come? Alright, good. Swing by the office first. Thanks, love you.” He snapped the jaw closed with a thumb and turned to Marlo. “Sorry. Kids, right? They keep trying to get me to get them some binder thing, and I tell them I’ll do it when they’re not sitting around doing nothing…”

Marlo nodded awkwardly, eying that escape. Could he blind him somehow? Stupid question. There wasn’t anything sharp to throw behind him, and even if he did, those legs were metal. They could kick him in half. He had to think of something, and fast. Because, for the first time since he had arrived, Hermes was actually looking at him. This was a lot worse than being ignored. He’d gone from cold courtesy to a kind of eager politeness, like a cat trying to coax a mouse from a hole. It hit Marlo for the first time, that this thing in front of him was not a man. It was not a person at all. He also hadn’t seen anyone else, since he had arrived. Especially, any real people. Perhaps this carnivorous metaphor he was going with… wasn’t just a metaphor. But panicking wouldn’t help

“Uh… what’d the Morty say?” he asked, weakly

“Oh, the Mortis,” Hermes scooped it up from the ground, “said that you are a very special person.” He swapped it around and Marlo saw, with a sinking heart, that the number one hundred was splayed across the screen.

“I know… a lot of people that would love to meet you.” Hermes said. “So… God, it’s stuffy in here. Do you think it’s stuffy? I think it is.”

He mimed fanning himself with his hat as Marlo smiled with his teeth and said “yeah it’s-”

“Why don’t we,” Hermes said, in his ear, suddenly behind him “just… step outside. It’s about time you properly entered Limbo."