Page 19 of Higher Demon

Ian squints as though thinking. “But didn’t you say that’s what they’d want? To maintain the old status quo where they get to sneak over here and treat us like cattle.”

“Yes, but you’re thinking like a human. Or a lesser demon, driven by urges. Remember that you’re dealing with beings that don’t die of old age, merely become more powerful. Playing the long game is second nature to us. What would happen now, immediately, if the truce were broken?”

They look at each other, confused, and I resist the urge to weep. A colleague of mine once hypothesized that the human brain, given its size and the range of performance available in humans, could potentially be capable of similar abilities to our own. After all, hunters already have psychic talent—why couldn’t that be expanded to telepathy and telekinesis? Even teleportation, with enough time. He theorized that time was the missing factor—humans died too young for their brains to develop fully. As I recall, he was quite excited about testing the whole concept.

And then he spent several centuries deeply connected to assorted humans, trying to learn their thought and processing patterns so he could see where the aging problem began to deteriorate things. The last I heard, he abandoned that project and took up gardening carnivorous plants, needing a soothing kind of hobby to keep himself from going mad.

“Right now,” I prompt. “If I killed you both and went on a murderous rampage, what would happen?”

“Well, we’d be pissed,” Matt says.

I raise a brow and think longingly of how silent houseplants are. “You’d be dead. And I’d have feasted merrily upon your souls.”

Ian edges slightly further from me. “This is not a comforting conversation.” He sighs. “Uh… The Collective would put together a team to hunt you down. A whole lot of teams.”

Finally, one of them is thinking. “Teams of who?”

“Hunters?”

I suppose it was too much to ask that the thinking continue indefinitely. “Whichhunters?”

He catches on. “The most experienced and powerful ones. Beginning with those who’ve successfully faced a higher demon in the past.” Realization dawns. “Oh.”

“What?” Matt demands. “Share the thinkies. I’m too tired from dealing with cultists to have my own.”

The… thinkies. This is what I’m dealing with.

“He’s saying that if there was an attack now, we’re as well-prepared for it as we’ve ever been. A smart higher demon would let the truce stand for a hundred years or so, maybe longer, until we’re no longer in as intense a state of preparedness. There’d be nobody alive who’d ever fought a higher demon, and maybe all the generations of peace would have convinced the Collective to reduce training levels or something. If there was a higher demon attackthen…”

“Humanity would be fucked.”

I shrug. “I’m sure your descendants would work it out eventually, the same way your ancestors did. But yes, there’s a lot of potential for trouble. And with population density higher now than it was a thousand years ago, a lot of damage could be caused in a very short time.” I pause to consider. “Aren’t you due to have a plague or something soon?”

“We try to avoid those,” Ian says, sounding a bit choked. “So a lesser demon or spirit is out, and there’s no other higher demon that can be trusted.”

“There are some, but they’ve categorically refused. That’s how I got stuck with the job—we all refused, and I was volunteered because I already knew people within the Collective.” I frown sourly, remembering that meeting. “I’m told there are some others who might be suitable in a few centuries or perhaps a millennium, once they’ve matured. But for now, I’m it.”

Matt props his chin on his hand. “Great. Yay for us. And for our kids.”

“Your kids,” Ian corrects, almost absently. “You know, this isn’t so terrible. For us, I mean. I know you don’t like it here, but at least we don’t need to get to know someone new.”

I resist the urge to throttle him. “Yes, but it does present another problem.”

“What’s that?”

“If I’m going to be here indefinitely, then for the sake of the truce and ties between our worlds, I need to make… friends.”

Chapter9

Ian

Friends.I try not to stare at him like that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. It’s hard, because… well, it’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. The higher demon who hates this planet, the people on it, everything we do and say… he wants to makefriends?

“Uhhh…” Matt’s at a loss for words. That’s a good thing, or he might say what I’m thinking right now. “Like… with other demons?”

Oh, Matt.

Marc sighs. It’s truly impressive, a short exhalation that somehow manages to convey that Matt is completely lacking in a brain or any capacity to otherwise think. “No. Friendshere.”

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