Episode 3: Stretch Forth Thine Hand Toward Heaven

The city's rivers are wide and deep. At night, they become chasms, dividing islands of light, their cold, dark depths unknowable. All that holds the city together is the bridges. But at night These elegant feats of human engineering seem fragile. And it's easy to imagine that one day these thin bands of light across the dark waters will fray and stretch and finally snap. And then the islands will begin to drift away one by one, until soon the entire city is gone, scattered.

And all that remains is the water, illuminated by nothing but the cold light of the stars above. But then the sun rises, and for a moment, these thoughts are forgotten. Normality asserts itself, and as they head out to perform their meaningless tasks, the little human figures think, surely, surely this will last forever. Good morning. Good morning.

Nice day, isn't it? Finally a bit of sunshine. I agree. It makes reading these files a lot easier. The lights in here are extremely inadequate. Um Yeah. That's true. The porn's still blasting away, huh? The Pussycat seems to be a popular destination with a surprisingly varied repertoire. I believe right now we're hearing something called behind the green door. I guess you learn something new every day. Hey, sorry I'm late. Some bozo just had to throw himself in front of the train today.

That's terrible. And inconsiderate. If you're gonna off yourself, at least don't do it when some poor train driver is gonna have to scrape your intestines off the windshield. Uh I didn't encounter any delays. Yeah, you probably arrived 20 minutes early, huh? Just to be safe. Correct. Told you she's a robot. Anyway, I got her some donuts. Eat'em before the rats do. Donuts? Really? Couldn't find anything more, cliche? Hey, I like donuts. Did you get coffee? Well

Yesterday I noticed there's a pretty decent coffee machine back there behind the photocopier. So I thought we could use that. But turns out there were some cockroaches nesting in there. And by some I mean roughly a million. Hmm. Delicious. So then I thought I'd get coffee from the donut place, but I was afraid it would get cold by the time I got here, so I tried the nut store around the corner. Oh, you mean the pussy cat? Because there's a lot of nutting going on in there. No, gross.

The one that sells actual nuts. But they had an infestation. Probably the same cockroaches I kicked out of our coffee machine. Then I tried the coffee house, but the kid at the counter was so high he couldn't understand what I was saying. So I went down the street. I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe we should just get to work. Dona? Fine. He's better have cream.

Has anyone actually seen Captain Donovan? He was here briefly before you arrived. Only said good morning, deposited our recordings in the vault, and left.

Okie dokie, so what's our next case? Donovan gave us a bunch of files. Let's just start at the top. Seems reasonable. Okay, let's see. An identified male, eighteen to twenty years old, found lying in the middle of the streets on Duckside Boulevard. Stabbed wound to the side of the chest, but died of Poisoning? The coroner's report mentions an unknown neurotoxin likely introduced during the stabbing, which had, quote, an unusually powerful effect on the blood brain barrier, unquote.

The case was investigated by Detectives Lopez and Thornton from the ninth. But since the body couldn't be identified and no one came forward, they pretty much shelved it after a couple of days. Dockside is mostly hookers, junkies, and drug dealers. Nobody there wants to talk to a cop. There's probably more bodies in the water than fish. So how do we approach this? Or do we just move on to the next file? I might know a guy.

Harrison and I are headed to dockside to talk to Harrison's Guy. Why don't you tell us about him, Harrison? Okay. His name is Big Dick Lee. He runs Mario's on the Dockside Promenade. He's a Chinese gangster who runs an Italian restaurant? He's not a gangster. He's just crime adjacent. And I'll have you know that Mario's is really good. And the name? He used to do live sex shows all over Dockside.

Live sex shows? Oh yeah, it's a whole scene. If you've got the right body and the right attitude, you can make a lot of money. Lee was a real celebrity, even had a manager. I remember the manager kept pressuring him to change his name to Big Wang, but Lee refused, thought it was offensive. After a few years he made enough money to buy the restaurant, so he got out. Rags to riches, huh? Oh yeah. Come Rags. This is Detective Danton from UCCT. Yes, I'd like to speak to Detective Thornton.

Yes. I have some questions about a case he and his partner abandoned. And when will he be coming back? I see.

Harry! What a pleasure to see you again. You good? More or less. Okay. Okay, I won't pry. Just remember, one day at a time. Now, what can I do for you? Vincent, get us some antipasty. Vincent Vincent. We're investigating a murder case from a couple of years ago, actually, so the trail is probably about as cold as it gets.

Dead guy, late teens, early twenties, dumped onto dockside boulevard, died of poisoning. Probably had the risotto at de gusto. More like a stab wound to the chest. And you are I'm Detective Benjamin Wayne. You have a partner, Harry! That's great! It's good to have people to keep you on the straight and narrow. Nice to meet you, Ben. Uh likewise. I suppose you didn't appreciate my joke. I

Sorry, the day started with suicide and now we're joking about some kid getting murdered. I understand. But consider this. Have you read Chesterton? He wrote that laughter is a religious matter. It's the fall of man. Only man can be absurd, for only man can be dignified. So for those of us in dark side, laughing at bad things is how we keep our soul. It means we still take things seriously. The people who don't care don't laugh. They just shrug and go on. Um Wow, that's unexpectedly profound.

The world is full of surprises, Ben. Little specks of grace in the dirt. Like gold dust on a shit sandwich. That's the Harrison Crane way of looking at it. I prefer to be a bit more optimistic when it comes to the human condition. Now, about your dead body. Have you tried talking to Larry? Honestly, I'd rather tongue fuck a hedgehog. Fair enough. I'll see what I can dig up. Vince! Where are those anti-pasty? I'd like to talk to Detective Lopez Danton. No U C C T.

Oh, he's out too? Just like Detective Thornton every time I call? That seems statistically improbable. Aha. Could you inform him that I called? Thank you. Giving you the runaround, huh?

Oh sorry. I I didn't realize you were back, sir. Back. You were here in the morning to check things into the vault. Uh right. Uh right. Sorry, yeah, it's been a long couple of days. But it's not because they dislike us or because they don't want to help, you see. If we solve their cases, we make them look bad. Looking bad has political consequences, and political consequences have material consequences. And that's what it's all about at the end of the day.

So you always have to consider the optics and the economics. Am I making sense to you? Yes, sir. I may have to modify my approach. Ma'am, these anti pops they are amazing. I told you, this place is great. I used to come here all the time. And your guy was surprisingly nice. He tries. There's a lot to make up for.

Vincent may be a bit slow, but he always comes through when you need him. He says he knows someone who knows someone who saw your body get dumped out of the back of a black van with a scorpion spray painted on it. Here's the thing though. The van was actually coming out from Vathik Halls and swerved onto Dockside Boulevard to avoid a shootout. Were they shooting at the van? No. It was unrelated. Eastman's thugs getting it on with a button.

But it was pretty nasty, and the van had to swerve hard to get out of the way. So maybe they didn't dump the body. It just fell out by accident. Do you have any people in Vathek? No. That's not my territory. The people are higher, they're not exactly standard. But they're functional. Everybody deserves a second chance. But not everybody has the faculties to be able to embrace. McVincent, for example. He was a drug dealer.

He got high in his own supply and stabbed his grandmother. A terrible act. Certainly. And one which Vincent deeply regrets, because he is fundamentally a good person. The crucial part, however, is that Vincent understands the nature of his sins. The people in Vathek Halls are beyond understanding. And though they deserve salvation as much as Vincent does, or any of us do, they're not capable of reaching for it.

It's weird. None of my cases were in this part of town. I guess I handled more I don't know, upscale criminals. But it makes me feel like I don't know this city at all. What's Vathek Hall? It's this pretty big complex of abandoned shipping depots and the old dock. used to be owned by a company called Vathic, though they went bust years ago.

For a while, that whole waterfront area was full of hippies and gay bars and stuff, poor as fuck, but really lively. But it's all gone to shit now. Usually when people say Vathek Halls, they just mean piers fifteen or fifteen and sixteen.

Hall A is a black market where you can buy just about anything freaky, disgusting, and or illegal. B is the world's number one nastiest crackhouse. Why doesn't anyone do anything about it? A ninth raids the place every couple of years, arrests some drugged-out hookers. Then everything goes on like before.

I don't get it. There's nothing to get, man. It's a pile of trash, and most anyone's ever gonna do is move it somewhere else. Let's focus on the problem. We need a contact. What about your friend Larry? Larry is not my friend, he's my CI. And you're right, I could call him. Or I could shove a razor blade dipped in hot sauce up my urethra. Come on, it's just talking to a guy you don't like. Uh-huh. Okay, fine. Let's go talk to the infamous Reno Larry.

His name is Renal Larry. Renal, as in kidneys? Yep. Do I want to know why? Nope. You have the nicest friends, Harry. Hello, this is Detective Susan Danton. Would you kindly inform Detective Low? Putting in a request for his assistance. We need his expertise on this case, his unique insight. We're not making enough progress and he could really help us out. Yes. Danton. Thank you.

Hey friend! Hey hey, Larry. What's up, my man? What do you need? Booze, girls? I got a girl. She's got two pussies. Can you believe it? And you know what? I swear to God, they both taste different. Christ. Hey, who's the softmate? New partner. Larry meet Ben. Ben meet Larry. Nice to meet you, man. I'm sure this is the beginning of a wonderful friend. Your hands are really sweaty. Oh no. Don't worry. That's not sweat. Mm-hmm. So what can I do you for?

We taken down another serial killer, Harry and Larry back in action, hmm I need a contact in Vathek Halls, trying to solve a murder. Young guy got stabbed, poisoned, then fell out of a black van with a scorpion on it. Hmm, all right, let me think.

I don't really like Vathic Halls. It's kind of a bummer, huh? Yes! Uh you remember uh A B Annie, the blonde with all the scars, lets guys cut her up and drink her blood? Don't think I ever met her. Really? I swear I Anyway, she works in Hall A at the back next to the dog. The dog guy? Yeah, uh he's this guy who was born with a tail and hair all over his body. Freaky, right? But I guess he leaned into it. Had some backroom dock, cut him up so he looks more like a dog. You can take him for a walk.

fetch with them or you know you can fuck them. Why did I ask? I hear he likes it dumb Sir. Did you do that on purpose? Did I do what on purpose? Did you deliberately push me to realize that I needed to flatter the investigating officers instead of just demanding they share their information? I may have. So you are aware of my issues with social interaction.

I'm aware that you are a very smart and dedicated cop, and that very smart people can sometimes overthink stuff, get a bit too formal, and forget the reasons people do things are complicated. And after everything you've experienced, it's easy to start thinking that every single cop is a raging asshole.

But some people are just cogs in a big old rusty machine, and if you want them to work for you, you just have to grease them a little. Sometimes that means paying them, but sometimes just making them feel valued is enough. Thank you, sir. Just doing my job. And I'll get back to work and don't tell the others I was nice to you, especially not Crane. This place sucks? Yeah, you could say that. I just I can't believe we just allow this level of degradation to exist.

Jesus, look at that guy with the teeth. Do you think this is worse than letting people freeze to death under a bridge somewhere? Dumping them in shit city? We drop bombs on kids, Ben. We burn kids alive. I know, but this Careful, don't step on that. Oh god, what is that? Mmm, I think it's a placenta. Hey, you wanna cut me? You can cut anywhere you like, right down to Oh It's you, Harry. Oh, hi. Did Larry tell you we were coming? No. Don't you remember me? I'm Annie. You really helped me out and

A while back. Oh that's uh that's right. Yeah, I remembered. Sorry, I went through a bit of a rough phase around then. It's all a little bit blurry. Oh, I understand. There's so much I don't remember anymore. It's kinda scary sometimes. But maybe it's better that way.

Amen to that. So how can I help you, Harry? Do you need blood? Oh no, thanks. We're actually looking into a case of a body drop from a black van with a scorpion symbol on it. It came from somewhere around here? Oh. I I know who that was. It's a sad story. You know the identity of the victim? Yes. His name was Henry. Henry Wilcox. He was my friend. Please tell us everything you know. Well, Henry was an artist and a poet and a writer.

His daddy kicked him out of the house, and Henry told me, I don't know if he kicked me out for being an artist or for being a damn queer. He didn't have any money, so he came here. Well, I don't know if it was just that. You know, he was a romantic. And he really liked this writer who used to live in dockside back in the day. So I I guess maybe he also wanted to be like him. What did he write? Oh, he wrote really, really beautiful stories.

They were like old fairy tales or or Bible stories. Sometimes they were scary too, but there was always a little bit of hope in. And it made me feel like maybe there's a little bit of hope for us, too. He couldn't get them published, though. He always said the same thing: too gay for the traditional magazines, too traditional for the gay magazines.

He only ever read old books, you know. He said the new stuff doesn't have any vision, because everybody sold out. I don't know if that's true, but he really thought so. Henry had very strong opinions. And he worked here? Yeah, he worked at the docks for a while. But then he got fired for talking back to his boss. He had a big mouth, you know. Never knew when to just shut up. But the economy was bad, and his boss put out the word that Henry was a troublemaker.

And he just couldn't get another job. So he started working in Bathic Hall. And there are always men from the heights coming here looking for young guys who are into the weird world. And they pay better than most. It went okay for a while. They're not all creeps, you know, those men. Some are just lonely and horny. But Then a lot of young guys started disappearing. I told Henry to be careful, but what can you do if you need money? There were disappearances? A lot of disappearance.

Mostly young guys like Henry. How come this was never reported? Why would anyone care about people like us? Henry could have been someone. He was so talented. And then he he went away with the man with the scorpion tattoo and. He never came back. He had a scorpion tattoo and a scorpion on his van too? Yeah, I I guess so. He came and picked up guys all the time.

But it was his first time with Henry. Did you ever see him again after that? After Henry vanished? A few times, yeah. But I haven't seen him in a while. Can you tell us anything else about his appearance? how old he was, hair color No, I I don't remember. I'm sorry. That's okay. How about the van? Anything else that might help us identify it?

It was old and ugly and uh I I I guess it looked like it was meant for goods, not people. Do you know where he took the guys he picked up? Where he went with the van? No. I'm sorry. I I don't know. But I have Henry's boxes, if if that helps. His notebooks and his tapes and all that stuff. His landlord gave me everything and I I didn't want to throw it away. I just felt like Like that's all of him that's left. And

They threw away his body like he didn't matter. But but I thought one day, maybe his family would come. May maybe they would want to read what he wrote.

But they didn't. Do you want me to give you the boxes? Yeah, that would be fantastic. Thanks, Annie. We going back? I think so. We need to look through this stuff. Alright. So A B Annie gave us a pile of Henry stock. Mostly diaries, notebooks, couple of cassettes. We're taking it back to the murder dunk back to the office to see if there's anything valuable in there. I wouldn't get my hopes up.

Isn't it weird though? That's all that's left of a person's life. Just a box of stuff. Isn't that the same for everyone? Sure. Sometimes the box is bigger, but where's the difference? I don't know. Don't you think a human life should amount to something more? Don't you wanna leave something behind for the next generation? Just because we want something doesn't mean we get it. It's a beautiful day out there in the city, unless you live in dockside, in which case. What's wrong with you?

But you know what blue skies bring to mind, Jerry? That's right. Our sponsors at Gorgeous Holdings. Because with these investment opportunities, the sky's the limit. I have some interesting news. I reached out to Detective Lopez at the night. He was reluctant to share any information about the case. Initially, I assumed this was because he resented our intrusion or simply didn't care, but

I have now reevaluated my position. I think he was ashamed. It seems he and his partner uncovered the same story you did, that many young men were going missing in Vath Halls. Lopez wanted to pursue it, but his captain told him it was a waste of time, and his partner agreed. So they dropped it. But it clearly still bothered him, and he would like to help us solve the case. So he sent us his files. Yay, more files.

This is really good progress though. Uh huh. I need coffee and a donut. Oh, now you like donuts. Hey, I didn't say I didn't like donuts. I just Oh, it's empty. Sorry, I I get nervous when I have to make phone calls. I didn't know robots got nervous. The sun begins to set, vanishing in the narrow canyons between the skyscrapers. The little figures that populate the city leave their jobs and hurry home, only ever looking forward. As if aware.

that there are certain dangers at night, certain things better left unseen. Only some of them can't seem to stop themselves. And even as the sky turns red, They keep pushing on. Because they need to know. To see. Listen to this. The world doesn't care about stories anymore. Stories are made of connections, and connections are taboo next.

Human connections, logical connections, narrative connections, all of them are suspect. The chaos of unfiltered personal experiences allowed, but only without context, without history. If you try to stretch forth your hand towards heaven, you will be punished. You will be cast out like Daniel, exiled into the wilderness. But I'll take the honesty of the man who looks at me and sees the cheap fuck over any artist who plays along. Better to sell your body than to sell your soul.

He was so passionate. Yeah, and look where that got him. But don't you admire his dedication? I don't know. I've been poor. It wasn't heroic and romantic. It just fucking sucked. But I guess he had no responsibilities, so he had nothing to lose. Except his life. Here's a strange one. I tried to trace the contours of Daniel's journey, but the city he lived in had disappeared. All I can find are traces, broken echoes of the streets he used to walk.

Things are going badly. Time is out of joint. The artists of Vathik Halls have become whores, and the whores have become ghosts. No one sings in Carathas Hall anymore, and the writing on the wall is fading. Alas, alas, that great city that was clothed in fine linen, and purple, and scarlet, and decked with gold, and precious stones, and pearls. For in one hour she was made desolate. Ah, Daniel again. See if you can find any other references to this guy.

Didn't Annie say there was this writer he was obsessed with? Maybe that's Daniel? Here's another reference. I dreamt of Daniel tonight. He was falling into the sky. I tried to pursue him, but my legs were bound with heavy chains anchored in Carathas Hall. I shouted to get his attention, but then something else noticed me. It floated like us, but it was not one of us.

It spoke to me in an inhuman language, and although I couldn't understand the words, I knew it was commanding me, ordering me to obey. And it hated me. It hated me with a loathing so profound I felt it in my soul. It got closer and its words got louder and louder until they were deafening. I screamed in terror, and then the client woke me. He said I was screaming in my sleep. Must have freaked him out. He hasn't come back. Shame. I liked him.

There's a poetry book here by someone called Daniel Ayers. Oh. What is it? I know Daniel Ayers. I mean, I know about him. He was a poet and playwright who lived in Darkside about two decades ago. I don't remember the precise details, but he suffered some sort of breakdown. This is around the time the old asylum was closed down, so he ended up in Chit City. After a few months he vanished. Most people assumed he committed suicide. Wait, Daniel Ayers?

Daniel Ayers. Look here. D Ayers. All of these tapes say D-Ayers. Play one. Okay. I'll just pick one at random. It's been two weeks and the dreams won't stop. The three heralds, the voice of their master, This is not what it was supposed to be. I wanted to fill a void in myself and instead I feel more empty than ever. I've been hollowed out, turned into a parody of a human being. Uh try another one. This one's just psychobabble.

I went back to Vathak Halls today. But it's already changed and I don't think it can ever change back. We've lost something essential. Some of them will deny it. Try to hang on to the story we told ourselves, but I don't think that can last. I admire the ones who've left. I think that's the best solution. The only real hope for any of us as individuals. But whatever it is that allows them to just shrug it all off, I don't have it. I can't accept the truth, but I can't let go either.

I walked through the old harbor streets that used to inspire me all the way back to Carrathus Hall where it all went wrong. But everything I used to see here is gone. Was it ever real? Was there ever poetry in these streets? Or did I delude myself? All I can see now is ugliness. I suppose they'll sell the holes.

Maybe it's for the best. Give me a second, please. There's something in the files Detective Lopez sent us. Carathus Hall is another shipping depot on Pier one hundred eight, and it used to be owned by the same company, Vathek Holdings. And there's a van registered to that address. Is the warehouse in use? No, it's been closed for a long time. There was some kind of accident years ago.

What about the criminal crowd? I'm sure the mob owns some of the warehouses and there's probably a hobo or two, but mostly that area is just empty. Pier 109 is basically underwater. So worth checking out? Yeah, let's go. Blondie, wanna join us on a field trip? Uh no. I I think the way we've worked so far has been well suited to our dispositions. I'm better behind a desk. Suit yourself. I swear that woman is a robot.

I like her. Yeah, but is there anyone you don't like? Still making my mind up about you. I can help you out with that one. I'm an asshole. As the last rays of light fade on the horizon, all the certainties of the day begin to fade with them. What a pleasant illusion, this blue sky with its white clouds, letting us believe that this thin layer of atmosphere is the edge of the world. But at night. The truth is revealed.

The sky is a gaping moor of darkness. Our little planet an insignificant particle in a vast, swirling, void. There is no pity in that abyss. No mercy, no answers for the foolish little ants that crawl around these streets. Yet still they crawl. Opening doors that should stay shut. All because they think they want to know. We've just arrived at Carathas Hall. Doesn't look like anything special, honestly. Smells like shit. Smells like fish. Fish shit.

And this door's locked. This one. Wait. It's open, but it. Stuck. Careful. It's tetanus central around here. Rust doesn't actually cause tetanus. Oh yeah? I bet if you scratch yourself on this metal, you'll get not only tetanus, but also botulism and gonorrhea. I'd prefer not to find out. Can we um Let's push together. Okay. Watch your hands. No, no, not like this. I'll Yeah. Alright. Now push. Here we go. Oh shit. In case you can't tell from the recording, the smell is

Extremely unpleasant. I breathed it in as the door opened and it's like a thousand devils just took a shit my nostrils. You know, I worked a case involving a fancy delicatessen in the heights what? All the meat products is spoiled. I think this actually smells worse. Should we go in? I think we have to. We're following the main corridor. There are some smaller rooms here, maybe offices, but but everything's empty. There's not even furniture. The odor continues to be

That's it. I'm never having food again. The main hall should be this way? Just follow your nose. I think it's gone um. Here. What? Oh shit. Fuck. This is fuck, fuck, fuck. It's at least a hundred. I I should describe it for the for the record. There's a a a large amount of potties, all male, all in a All curled up in a fetal position. They look mummified. They they've Hey, hey, hey, hey, j j just go out, man. Just go out. I'll I'll handle it. There's so many. I know.

Every one of these was a person. A real person with a life and a history. They're people. And someone killed them by the dozens. By the fucking dozens. And nobody gave a shit. They just let them pile up in here because they're expendable. Because treating human beings like trash is just It's it's just what we do. It's fine. Who cares? Hey, hey, hey. Just just step outside. Just take a breath. I'll call it in. Fuck!

Sometimes I dream that it doesn't have to be like this. That I don't have to think about everything I've done. I don't have to be this flesh, this skin, these scars. I can just make it go away. Like it never happened. I look in the mirror and I'm me. The way I should be. And my skin is nice and smooth. And Henry's alive and everyone's okay. God, I just want everyone to be okay. I just wanna be me again.

But I'm stuck. And Henry's falling into the sky. And he's falling and falling and falling. Or maybe we're falling. Detective Susan Danton, final report. One hundred and thirty seven bodies were recovered from Carathas Hall. All of them featured similar stab wounds, and every victim appears to have succumbed to the effects of the same unknown neurotoxin, although the amounts of the substance differ from body to body. And there appear to be variations in its precise chemical composition.

Identification of the bodies is difficult due to their apparent mummification. We have reached out to the public for help, but it seems many of these young men, like Henry Wilcox, have been disowned by their families. Personal note. Whether they are sent off to war or ostracized and condemned to die frightened and alone. It seems that our society regards young men as nothing but cannon fodder. Expendable bodies to be used up and thrown away.

Sometimes I cannot help but wonder what kind of world finds it so easy to accept the deaths of children.

When I ascended into the abyss, in the place where all things turn, the voice spoke to me, saying. The second herald shall be the scorpion. In the hall of dreams he will sacrifice the lost children. There shall be neither mercy nor pity. The blood of the Lamb will prepare the opening of the gate. And the name of the gate shall be Terminus. With music and sound by Chris Christadulu, or to speak their names in the ancient. Η Ονά Κυρατζή και Χρήστο Χρυσάμερο.

Adam Green, Joel Lynch, Casey Camp, Sean Branny, and Peter Wingfield. For more information as well. Check out the show notes. or the official website at azetothblues.com.