Prose Header


Uttuku

The Books of Darkness

by Robert N. Stephenson

Table of Contents
Chapter 20

The Ta’ibah


There were other Uttukes in the city, prominent and less so, and I didn’t know who would work with whom. A Uttuke isn’t part of the web of blackness, so I couldn’t connect any of them together.

The Dark One had led me to a house, a strange house; I could find no darkness about it or within it, but it looked lived in, occupied. A Uttuke’s house. He had led me here, nothing more said or implied. Standing across the street, I watched and listened. Night would soon fall and the waiting become less demanding.

The front door opened, a woman stepped out into the sun, walked up the drive and gathered her mail. I didn’t know her, hadn’t seen her since the following began. If she was Uttuke, she didn’t look like someone Sarina would know: too open, too exposed. A trusted human maybe? Someone else I could use in the game. Again a purpose I didn’t understand; I had to put it together, always knowing my hand was being directed by his.

Sarina had always made odd aquaintances over the years, she’d at one time visited John F. Kennedy in the USA, their meeting coming at the time of the first threat of nuclear war. I wondered if she had anything to do with changing his mind. The possibility was there; it wouldn’t have been the first time she had taken such an action.

Uttukes weren’t all do-gooders, or was she generally someone who helped the world? It just happened at critical time in history a Uttuke or two were present. We Ta’ibahs are no different, only we are darkness; and the darker the human condition, the better we feed, and the more The Dark One recieves. Pol Pot had a Ta’ibah at his side, was taken moments before he died. His darkness was great, and the pit was well supplied during his rule.

Waiting and watching, a Ta’ibah’s main purpose, served The Dark One, helped him focus and locate points where his taking could satisfy his search for completeness. We would feed, erase the human light to a degree; it was he who erased them entirely. He who brought nothing to bear. The woman went inside; for a moment I thought she looked right at me, studied me. No one could see me; boredom can trick the senses.

I had pieces already in place. Sarina had the Uttuke’s symbol; Diana knew of the book and knew who had it. I knew all this as well, so too did he. Sarina and Diana were growing closer, more reliant; it needed to grow more, and it would happen. How I was to use Diana wasn’t yet clear, nor was it clear how I would get the symbol. Was Diana to get the book for me? He never used humans for his work. This would be something new.


Proceed to Chapter 21...

Copyright © 2009 by Robert N. Stephenson

This link goes to the book website.

Home Page