Beyond Apocalypse

by Bruce S Larson

  “It is obvious who you are.” Voltris said while still staring into empty air. “When you enter this ship you become part of the information in my brain.”

  Voltris finally turned and face Uruk. They looked at each other with odd glances and inner questions of rank and power. No words left their mouths. The uncomfortable lull caused them both to twitch their heads.

  Uruk broke the silence. “I have news you may not know. It is vital. It impacts our demonic future and that of Hell.”

  Uruk motioned to the coffin. Voltris approached it and fingered the large link fragment hung around his neck.

  “What I must reveal, you must endure.” Uruk said. “My demons have already beheld the shock. You will be the first eyes of this ship.”

  “Akhad is dead!” Triat barked. He thrust up the severed arm.

  Voltris released a low growl as he stared at the limb and still fingered his link. Voltris nodded and cast his head to the right portal. Triat grunted and left.

  Uruk breathed easier. His plan was working. Voltris held command. Uruk would permit him control of the horde while Uruk controlled Voltris. This strategy would bring the ship and all its power to Lord Anguhr. Uruk nodded at his demons flanking the cube coffin. They tore it open to reveal Xuxuhr’s head.

  Voltris lurched as if hit by Xuxuhr himself. He spun and gripped the link fragment until fetid blood dripped from his palm.

  “Your Lord was great,” Uruk said. He surmounted his headache from containing his desire to simply grab power and spit on diplomacy. “But he is dead.”

  “Yes.” Voltris pulled himself to look again at Xuxuhr’s head. He released his grip on the link fragment. Dark blood now covered it. He flexed his bleeding hand. “I need not the ship’s sensors to tell me. I have feared this. I can hardly accept it.”

  “You must.” Uruk said. “You must find leadership now in my Lord. He will—”

  “No!” Voltris screeched.

  “It must be so,” Uruk spoke in strained but cautious tones. “No living Generals are greater than Lord Anguhr. Service to him will bring glory to your horde. Serve your demons by following Lord Anguhr.”

  “You speak of glory!” Voltris snapped his head to glare at Uruk. “You speak of following! Yet you never mention our true and ultimate master.”

  Uruk slowly bowed his head. It bought him the second to understand what Voltris meant, and also make a tactic for his advantage.

  “All praise the Dark Urge,” Uruk said. He resisted grating his pointed teeth. “Her dark wisdom has brought me here.”

  Voltris tilted his head to consider Uruk’s words and his own odd situation.

  “Perhaps.” Voltris said. “I will tell the horde. They must know. Madness may take them. It may only be a storm or it may destroy them all. But if it does not, then we may seek your Lord to redeem our bodies to the Dark Urge. All praise be to her. Now, I honor my master.”

  Uruk watched Voltris turn to his dais. He considered killing him and lying to Xuxuhr’s horde that their Ship Master lived but hid in mourning. Yet, he had seen massive lies fall into the Red Giant. He had no stomach to do that. Xuxuhr’s demons deserved the truth. Uruk placed his faith in this horde’s strength to endure their master’s loss.

  Voltris broadcast his words to the horde. His speech and barks were short. His grieving howl was long and painful. A collective howl rolled across the ship. Uruk found himself caught in the moment. He joined Zahl and his own demons in the howl.

  Far below in the swelter of the bilge deck, the Ignitaurs labored at their kilns and forges to make more chain. They heard the demon howls. They understood a calamity had befallen the ship, their prison. The right time had come to break their bonds. To the demons, their epic howl was a wail of mourning. To the Ignitaurs it was a call to war.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The scream of the Dark Urge typically assaulted each system when a ship from Hell entered it. Not so her own system. However, Proxis had set warning klaxons to sound if another of her warships arrived. One did, and very close. It jumped into real space between the Red Giant and Hell. It set immediately on course toward the crimson star. Proxis plotted its course. The other ship's vector intersected over the region of the Iron Work that his own ship guarded. Proxis smiled on thinking of at his General’s foresight. Now he gathered his strength to follow Lord Anguhr’s orders and prevent any ship from entering striking range above him.

  “Master Proxis—!” The demon Onar exclaimed as entered the bridge and saw the images and data flowing across the screens. He was the highest ranking Strike Leader, and now served as Proxis’ liaison to the horde and ship’s second in command.

  “Yes. It heads our way,” Proxis answered.

  “Should we send a greeting?” Onar asked as he turned to face Proxis.

  “And drop the ship’s aegis and have all demons throw their weapons into space as well?” Proxis snarled. “We stand our ground!”

  Onar stiffened and bowed.

  “And yes, Onar, should we need to, we fight.”

  The face of Crucis flashed on the central screen in front of Proxis. The two Ship Masters stared at each other for a brief instant. They almost shared a shrug between themselves. It was the first time they had seen another Ship Master. It was also the first time any of Hell’s massive dreadnoughts had faced another in potential conflict. Crucis spoke first with a commanding tone.

  “My Lord, General, and Fleet Overlord Sutuhr now takes control of your ship. Stand ready for a transfer of—”

  “Never!” Proxis shouted sharp and loud.

  Onar resisted flinching, and stood fast behind Proxis at his right side.

  “You have no choice but to—” Crucis began.

  “Stand aside, sow!” Proxis snapped. “I now stand in command of this ship. Let the commander of your ship speak.”

  On his own bridge, Crucis lurched forward as if to bite Proxis. A hateful hiss and phalanx of teeth filled the center screen.

  “Who dares? A demon?” A giant’s voice boomed from behind Crucis. Sutuhr’s lion and spider face appeared on the screen. The image panned back to show him seated on his throne holding his mace.

  Proxis summoned all his courage and defiance to serve his own master. “I am no mere demon. I am Proxis, Ship Master for my Lord and General, Anguhr the Destroyer!”

  “Anguhr the pup!” Sutuhr shouted from his throne. “Still I see he has stiffened the spines of his horde. I’m sure you serve him well. You now serve me, as does Anguhr himself.”

  “Impossible!” Proxis shook his head in true disbelief.

  “It is the will of the Dark Urge, Proxis.” Sutuhr altered his verbal tactics and spoke in a near mentoring tone. “Follow it and you will know her bliss.”

  “I already serve our dark sovereign through Lord Anguhr!” Proxis railed.

  “I am Fleet Overlord by her order. The first such General to hold command over all. Praise the wisdom of the Dark Urge. Now follow her will, Master Proxis. Fall into position off my starboard quarter.”

  “No.”

  To Proxis, reality seemed to congeal into the shocked and then angry face of Sutuhr.

  “Do as I say,” Sutuhr drew in a long, deep breath. And the bellowed. “Or die!”

  Proxis paused. He looked away from Sutuhr’s image as his attention was caught by data on other screens.

  “False threats, General.” Proxis remarked and felt great internal relief. “You forget I can scan your ship. I know well a ship’s power output. Yours is weak. Your ship is damaged. It is no match for what I command. Look at your scans of this warship. All its systems function. All its weapons.”

  “You dare mutiny?” Sutuhr roared. “You dare think you are my equal?”

  “In Hell's hierarchy, no. But on this ship, I am master until Lord Anguhr returns. Would you have your own Ship Master surrender your ship to him?”

  “You will obey me!” Sutuhr shouted. His face still revealed shock from wide, sideward cat’s eyes and a loose jaw. “Anguhr
will obey me! I, and only I, act as the personal champion of the Dark Urge!”

  “I may only act as the Ship Master for Lord Anguhr,” Proxis breathed. “But I will not fail in that duty. He would not fail me. Can your horde say such?”

  “Anguhr answers to me, now!” Sutuhr bolted up from his throne. “All Generals do!”

  “Bid the Dark Urge to be present and tell me in person.” Proxis said.

  “You would die, you little wingless freak! You will die if you disobey, with no redemption in Hell!”

  “Yet, I live now.” Proxis knew Sutuhr would not hear the non-verbal aspect of his reply. It was a loud hum of building energy. Proxis heard the metal echoes of the main guns emerging from the hull and their domes opening. He saw the effect his actions had on Sutuhr’s stressed and monstrous face.

  A roar and spew of venom assaulted Proxis, but only in the projection. The screen went blank and flashed on the image of Sutuhr’s warship turning its vast length to head back towards Hell.

  Demons had hearts that pumped infernal blood through their sinister forms. Proxis felt his ease from the rapid throbbing that threatened to burst it. His next sensation was one of near pain as his face muscles pulled his thorny cheeks fully back and nearly cramped in a smile that would, if ever seen, terrify the minds of other species for generations. He spoke a low prayer for himself and Onar’s ears.

  “All praise the Dark Urge, and Lord Anguhr, the Destroyer.”

  Onar inhaled and joined Proxis with a devilish smile. “I wonder if this was the first victory in Hell’s eternal history where a Ship Master won the day on his own. And against so powerful a foe, a General, no less.”

  “I wonder of it is indeed a victory,” Proxis rested his left arm on his dais. His smile relaxed. “Time, and Lord Anguhr, will tell.”

  Anguhr stood the arc length of a large planet’s hemisphere away from the access canyon. He kept the expedition pared to only the most essential personnel. One General. One demon. One prisoner. Their equipment was also sparse. Anguhr had his immense axe locked on his back. Solok carried his heavy rifle on a shoulder sling. Zaria had the grapnel node lashed to her back. Anguhr had noted how easily she agreed to pack the seeming inert device. They traveled only in Anguhr’s chariot across the vast, obsidian plane. As General, Anguhr could go virtually anywhere he pleased. Anguhr came here because he was curious. If it was not as thrilling as combat, walking on the sacred and stellar-scale machine was at least interesting. It all appeared to be the same flat, black surface. The great size of the one band made realizing its curve impossible when standing on its hot face. This was true from the demon’s eye view, and from the height of a giant such as Anguhr. Compared to the Iron Work, all life was miniscule.

  Anguhr still watched the reactions of his acting Field Master, Solok. Uruk was well into his mission to secure Xuxuhr’s ship. Anguhr knew that sending Uruk was a great gamble. He could lose the most valuable member of his horde. Securing another ship was a worthy risk. Anguhr hoped to secure another powerful weapon, here. As a General, he thought he was the most powerful creature where he walked. Yet he walked over a machine built by powers dwarfing his own. Xuxuhr’s death had yet to impress him that even Generals were, in the right conditions, as mortal as ants.

  Anguhr was certain another General would be quick to use this ultimate weapon should they find it. In his hands he hoped to keep it as a reserve of last choice. He loved War, not annihilation. First, the weapon must be completed. For that, he needed Zaria. She had envisioned it just as the Dark Urge had apparently done so. Thus, Zaria was dangerous, powerful, but useful in this new age of uncertain futures. Like the Dark Urge, she created her own warriors. Anguhr wondered if she also created what caught his eye high above them.

  “What are they?” Anguhr asked. He pointed overhead.

  In the red tinted blackness of space above the Iron Work, two points of light held positions triangulated above where Anguhr stood. Zaria knew lies were of no use. The last, free members of the forces she created on Asherah had been discovered. Dutifully and regrettably, they had remained at their ordered post. She wondered if Anguhr’s eyes could see much more than the blobs of light. They were small ships, but also living creatures. Their inspirations were one of the oldest lifeforms Zaria knew. In close, the creatures bore a strong resemblance to the horseshoe crabs deep within Eden’s oceans. The saucer shape of their shells suggested a container. They became the basis for her transport and support craft.

  Each of their living hulls were large enough to take in all the members of Zaria’s twin strike teams before the first was ravaged by combat and the second spotted by Anguhr’s demons and surrendered to him. These creatures had arcane metal hulls that survived space and absorbed stellar radiation for energy and defense. Their hull divided into two sections near the middle of the body similar to the original arthropod’s shells. The main section held a perfect, circular edge where the bottom and top sides joined. The edges of the second section continued out beyond the circular edge and curved forward as slightly inverted, short wings. That seemed fitting to Zaria for flying things. Their tails tapered from the center of these winglets into a long spike. They glowed nearly white from the absorption of stellar energy. Each one awaited orders to descend and transport Zaria and her forces or attack the site where her mission was to conclude.

  “Based on their living inspirations,” Zaria answered, “you could call them asterapods. Or, because of their shape, comets. They are merely my own chariots for egress from the Iron Work.”

  “But they have a large amount of energy,” Anguhr noted. “So they are also weapons.”

  “They are merely transports.” Zaria said.

  “Order them into the star.” Anguhr commanded.

  “General, they don’t threaten you. They are of no—”

  Anguhr raised his right hand. Zaria sensed the mental equivalent of a shouted command. Several, smaller points of light became visible at an angle above the comets. They bore down on the living ships. Contrail-like streaks formed behind the smaller points as heat from the corona assaulted the missiles’ shielding.

  The comets fled. The missiles altered course and pursued them. The chase was lost behind the greater red glare of the auroras in the far distance.

  “I see you deployed a defense, high aloft.” Zaria noted and hoped her comets escaped.

  “Of course,” Solok said.

  “You are argumentative. You risk your life with defiance.” Anguhr said as he turned to Zaria.

  “And you are used to getting your way too easily.” Zaria countered. “Those comets could have been useful to us.”

  “No. Not to me.” Anguhr said. “Now, we will retrieve what we came for. The weapon will be useful. Potentially. Make it happen.”

  Zaria noted the slight change in Anguhr’s tone and words. He gave her an order, but did not follow it a threat to her life or the lives of the prisoners. It was progress. Familiarity was, perhaps, breeding acceptance. Anguhr at least accepted her abilities. Zaria wondered if he had guessed her real ultimate weapon and end game. She knew he could not guess what was to come, here and in the near future.

  “Look down,” Zaria said. “Not at me, but at your boots.”

  Anguhr stared at the black surface. He could see the barest trace of a circular arc. The arc extended to form a vast circle. He looked up at Zaria.

  “For once you don’t understand,” Zaria said. “I know. But I do.”

  Anguhr glared at Zaria. An angry Solok joined him.

  “The key is me, or rather, the information I have.” Zaria looked across the black zone encompassed by the nearly invisible circle. “What we seek is also information. It is an accumulation of data so vast it radiates energy like the star below it. At no other time was such power available that could threaten your black queen in Hell. It exists, now. It is why she sent Xuxuhr and why she wanted me dead. If I can imagine it, then she must also have seen the potential to make the weapon you want.”

 
“The weapon you will make for me,” Anguhr growled.

  “And then what? Will you—”

  “No.” Anguhr voice rose as did his ire. “You will act. Now.”

  “Very well,” Zaria extended her hands.

  Anguhr felt a tinge of emotion. It was not excitement at completing the weapon or seeing his curiosity fulfilled. It was unease at the satisfaction shown in Zaria’s smile. There was a tremor. Light flashed around the imbedded circle. It became a vast, illuminated ring. The arc near Anguhr’s boots moved. He stepped back. Solok aimed his rifle at the rising, black metal. Zaria stayed standing right at the circle’s edge. A half sphere slid up within the arc facing them and rolled down to form a dome within the lit circle. The dome rose. The surface of the Iron Work lost no material as the dome elevated into a vast, black ball. Zaria gave a slight nod, as if replying to a voice. A narrow band of light flashed at the black ball’s equator. A rim emerged from the light and extended outward. The black ball became smaller as the rim grew into a widening flange.

  Solok dropped to a squat as the flange expanded over them. He still aimed his rifle at the unknown events happening before him. Anguhr ducked, slightly. Zaria still stood with arms out but in seeming communion with the events. The flange kept growing and separated into a wide ring that continued to expand around the equatorial plane. It hovered and circled the reduced, black sphere. The transformation of black metal paused and it felt as though time also held still. Anguhr looked up at the absolute back ring above him. Suddenly he saw see the reddish sky again. Only the black sphere remained.

  The sphere’s top hemisphere split into an equal half that rotated down and vanished into the bottom half. A huge, black cube stood revealed in the bowl-like, bottom section. Again there was a pause. A frozen moment. Events continued. The bottom half-sphere sank back into the Iron Work. The cube followed and sank to half its height and stopped. Zaria sprinted to it and leapt. She caught the cube’s top edge and hoisted herself to top surface. The grapnel node swung on her back.