by Chris Fox
“No, but I have business to attend to. Use Ka to build a conduit from the central chamber to the Nexus, and do it quickly before the ocean claims it. Once you are finished, come find me on Angel Island,” she instructed, already exiting the chamber.
Yukon trotted at her heels, patient in a way no wolf would have managed. He followed her through many passages, until they finally reached the central chamber. To the untrained eye it was identical to her own Ark, each obelisk in exactly the same position. Yet to her eye the two couldn’t have been more different.
She ran her hand along the black stone wall, remembering the carving of every glyph. Her hands had sculpted the magnificent statues flanking the doorway to the rejuvenation chamber. One was her, of course. All her work bore such a statue, a signature of sorts. The other was unique, however, a tribute to her daughter Jes’Ka.
It showed a fierce Ka-Ken armed with a golden spear. Her eyes blazed with fury, and her gums had been pulled back over a mouthful of impressive fangs. It was an expression Isis remembered well, one she’d both dreaded and loved. Dreaded, because it often accompanied a tirade from her strong-willed daughter. Loved, because it meant Jes’Ka had the same untamable spirit as her father, Osiris.
The Mother swept past the statue and into the room beyond; she paused there, studying the two occupied rejuvenators. One held Lucas, the dark-skinned male a long time servant of her daughter. The other held Jes’Ka herself; proud, and stubborn, and beautiful. Her golden locks blanketed the bed around her, alabaster skin shining in the white light of the chamber. She looked at peace, though that would change when she woke.
A rare moment of indecision washed through the Mother. Isis so badly wanted to wake her daughter, yet she knew it would be a mistake. She was about to embark on a dangerous quest to investigate the first Ark. For good or ill, Osiris lay at the end of that path, and if he’d truly manipulated history as she suspected he had, then he might very well have become her greatest foe.
If it came to battle between them she wasn’t sure which side her daughter would choose. It was hardly fair to put Jes’Ka in that position, and more than that it was dangerous. If Jes’Ka supported her father the two of them would be more than a match for Isis. More than a match for Sekhmet, if she could even convince her near-sister to join forces. Together they’d be all but unstoppable.
Isis turned from the rejuvenator and strode back into the central chamber. She could not afford to dally in such personal matters. She had work to be about. She closed her eyes, feeling the Ark around her. It was immediately clear why Steve had been able to escape. Blair had initiated none of the proper security measures. Any Ark Lord could utilize this place. She’d have to teach him to defend it, but there wasn’t time for that now.
She reached into the Ark’s well, pulling in enough power to initiate a light walk. Then she was elsewhere, standing on a dock she’d plucked from Blair’s memories. It lay on Angel Island, the place where the Ka-Ken Liz was gathering her growing flock. That was to the good. Liz had impressed her, doubly so after combing Blair’s memories.
The Ka-Ken was strong. Intelligent. More than that, she was bold enough to make hard choices, and that would make her an incredible leader. If she was given the time to learn.
In the distance lay the ruins of a truly impressive bridge, painted gold by the waning sunlight. Beyond it lay a dense city, every bit as grand as anything from her world. She’d glimpsed skyscrapers in memories, and seen a few in Cajamarca. None like this. San Francisco was an impressive city. A city of the dead, unfortunately. Figures moved in the distance, most shambling between buildings. Enough to clog even the wide streets.
Isis turned her attention back to her immediate surroundings. She scanned the dock, where a jumble of men were unloading metal boxes from a battered-looking boat. They ignored her, which made her smile. To them she was a girl just out of adolescence. Liz was smarter than that though. The Ka-Ken obviously sensed something, whirling to face Isis.
“Hello, Ka-Ken,” Isis said, giving a warm smile. She opened her arms, taking a step forward to embrace Liz. “Your struggles have been difficult, and there are more to come. But I am proud of all you have accomplished.”
Liz all but engulfed Isis in a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. Thank God.”
“Would that we had time to reminisce, but the situation is dire. We must depart this place within the hour,” Isis said, stifling a sigh. In a way, every Ka-Ken was her daughter, and she longed to comfort Liz. Yet doing so would be no favor. Liz needed to learn to stand on her own.
“Leave?” Liz replied, taking a step back. She brushed a lock of hair from her face, staring in confusion. “We can’t leave. These people just weathered an attack by deathless. We drove them off and killed most of them, but a few escaped. They’ll be back, sooner or later.”
Isis folded her arms, turning toward the setting sun. She was silent for a long moment, considering. “The crisis we face is more important than any single settlement, yet I’d not abandon even a single bastion. Yukon, to me.”
The dog had been sniffing about several refugees, tail wagging as he made new friends. One of them was a girl about twelve, on the cusp of adolescence. She had long, dark hair, and a dirty face. Well, dirty until Yukon began licking it furiously.
At her command he reluctantly abandoned his new friend, trotting over to Isis. She lay a hand on the side of his face, smiling grimly down at him. “This place is in great danger. The not-deads come in ever greater numbers, and without protection these people are doomed.”
No. Yukon’s thought was loud and angry. We will protect them. We will slay the not-deads.
“I must leave to face a graver threat, my friend. Will you stay and protect these people?” she asked. Isis was conscious of Liz’s tense form next to her. The Ka-Ken couldn’t hear Yukon’s responses, of course.
Yes, but I am not strong. I cannot do it alone.
“Nor will you need to, my friend. I want you to reform the Great Pack. Find other dogs, find coyotes, and foxes. Gather them to you. There is strength in numbers, and in time they will awaken as you have,” she explained, her smile growing warmer. “Will you do this?”
I will do this thing, Yukon said, mind firm with resolve.
“Isis,” Liz began, more timidly than Isis would have liked, “will a pack of dogs be enough to protect these people?”
“No,” Isis said, extending a hand. The Primary Access Key flowed into it, a pool of gold that gradually elongated into a familiar staff with a winged scarab at one end. She turned to face the refugees, the sapphire in the scarab’s thorax flaring blue as it sent out a spiderweb of wispy blue tendrils. “We need champions as well.”
“What are you doing?” Liz asked, her gaze following the tendrils.
One found the girl Yukon had been licking, and it flared brightly, leaving a glowing blue mark on the girl’s forehead. Four others found their mark within the crowd, but that was all. So few.
“Those with the mark have the greatest chance of returning from the dead,” Isis said, gravely. She faced Liz. “It is not certain, but their helixes bear the greatest likelihood of bonding with the virus.”
“You’re going to kill them,” Liz said, clearly aghast. “Isis, she’s a child. You can’t.”
“I’m not going to kill them,” Isis said, gaze catching the Ka-Ken. She took a step toward the larger woman. “You are. This is your domain, your pack. If you wish these people to survive your absence, you must provide them with champions. It is a difficult task, I know. Yet what chance do they have if you are too weak to do what must be done?”
Liz’s face fell. Tears welled up as she looked at the child. Several moments passed as indecision warred across her features. In the end the battle was won, and Liz’s face hardened with resolve.
17
Anput
Trevor eyed Anubis warily as the jackal-headed god escorted him through a myriad of passageways. They probably corresponded to their counterparts in Bl
air’s Ark, but Trevor had never been in this area so he couldn’t identify the high-ceilinged hallways. They were black stone with golden hieroglyphs, which seemed to cover every available surface. Similar glyphs were present in Blair’s Ark, but fewer and in a different style.
Anubis climbed a steep stairway, pausing at the top for Trevor to join him. He summed up Trevor with that awful canine gaze. “You are unworthy of existence, pup. Yet I am loyal to Ra, she who gave us all life. She commands me to give you into the care of my wife. Know this, however: If you speak ill of or to my wife, if you look upon her with lust, or if you offer her any offense, then I will destroy you. Not even memory of your name will survive.”
Be careful, my host. Show no resistance, his Risen counseled. Unnecessarily. Trevor knew better than to pick a fight with something much stronger and much older than he was.
“Listen, Anubis. It’s Anubis, right? I came here for one reason, and one reason only. To kill Steve,” Trevor explained, meeting the jackal’s gaze evenly. “I didn’t plan on any of this, but since I’ve been adopted into your little pantheon I plan to mind my manners. I won’t offer your wife any offense, and if I offer you any please give me a chance to apologize before you ram that axe through my chest. Remember—I’m ignorant of your ways.”
“I promise nothing,” Anubis snarled, though he seemed mollified.
The jackal stalked up the next corridor, eventually pausing outside the entryway to a large chamber. The chamber was roughly twice the size of the one Trevor had occupied back in Blair’s Ark, and, unlike his, had been heavily modified. Ornate rugs covered the floors, and statues of various Egyptian deities dotted the chamber. A massive four-poster bed dominated one corner, and the far side of the room even contained a pool-sized bath.
A figure emerged from that bath, naked and dripping as she stepped onto the stone and picked up a towel. She made no move to use it, instead sizing up Trevor like a puzzle she was trying to solve. The woman was beautiful, no doubt about that. She had long, dark-skinned legs, and patient wide eyes. A river of black hair cascaded down her back, twisted into fine braids, each with a golden bead at the end.
Trevor was about to look away, largely due to Anubis’s warning, when he noticed something hanging brightly in the air above her. It was a multicolored sigil of some kind, a stylized likeness of Anubis. He wasn’t sure precisely what it signified. Marriage maybe? Trevor dropped his gaze to the stone, waiting for either Anubis or the woman to speak. He noted that the woman looked completely human, no toxic green gaze, no razored teeth. That was an interesting tidbit to file away.
“My wife,” Anubis rumbled, clicking his away across the floor until he towered over the woman. “Ra commands me to present you with this pup. He is a new god, from this strange age. She commands that you educate him in our ways. Know this, however: I have sworn to—”
“Leave off, husband,” the woman said, placing a hand on Anubis’s forearm. His jaws snapped shut, though his gaze still smoldered. “I can tell already that you have no love for the pup, and you and I will discuss the reasons later. In private. For now, please allow me to discharge the obligation Ra has given me. The pup will learn nothing with you looming over him, ready to mete out violence. Leave us.”
Anubis gave a curt nod, whirling and stalking past Trevor. He passed far closer than was strictly necessary, furry muscles gliding past Trevor’s face as if a reminder of how close to death he came.
“How are you called, newling?” the woman asked, toweling the water from her naked body.
“My name is Trevor. Trevor Gregg,” he amended, still trying to avert his gaze. The basic human needs for sex were supposed to be gone, but he experienced a very human lust. He hadn’t felt that way with Ra, despite the fact that the fiery-haired goddess was much more beautiful than Anput.
“I am called Anput, wife of Anubis and daughter of Osiris,” she said, giving him a wide smile. Her teeth were perfectly white, and, as he’d noted earlier, perfectly straight. Illusion, perhaps? If that was the case he should have been able to detect her shaping.
No illusion, my host. She is cousin to the deathless, but a wholly separate creature. She cannot be trusted. Your desire for her is unnatural, one of the abilities her kind possesses.
“So, you’re supposed to teach me how to fit in here?” Trevor asked, mainly to fill the silence that lingered in the wake of her statement.
“Just so,” Anput said, giving a soft nod. She reached for a sheer black shift and pulled it on, then moved to a high-backed wooden chair near a window.
Trevor moved to join her, sinking into a second chair. They sat at the edge of a balcony, which overlooked the Giza plateau. The view was breathtaking, showing Cairo in all its glory. The city was huge, possibly bigger than Los Angeles. Yet it was also empty. He could see no movement there, not a single corpse or even a bird.
“I have been tasked with teaching you to survive here, no easy feat given that you are an outsider,” Anput said, crossing one shapely leg over the other as she studied him. “To do that I must understand more of what you are. How did you come to be here?”
“By accident. I was pursing a Ka-Dun who stole an access key,” Trevor explained. He wasn’t sure how much he should reveal to Anput, but right now he didn’t have many choices. She was the only thing approaching an ally he was likely to find here. “Your husband ambushed me and my companions at the light bridge. After he kicked our collective asses, I woke up in a cell. I was presented to Ra, and then escorted here.”
“Interesting,” Anput said, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair, still studying him. “Anubis said you are of this age. Obviously you’ve had some training. Who sired you?”
“If by sired you mean trained, then I guess that would be Irakesh. Though I have no loyalty to that bald bastard,” Trevor snapped, instantly regretting the loss of control.
Anput cocked her head back and began a musical laugh. Her eyes twinkled when she stopped, and he noticed for the first time that she wore dark eyeshadow. It was so skillfully applied it could have been part of her skin.
“You are refreshingly honest, Trevor Gregg,” Anput said, her expression suddenly unreadable. “If you wish to survive in the court of the mighty Ra, that must change, and change quickly. Here, honesty is a liability. It reveals your true intentions, and such predictability will allow your enemies to engineer your death.”
“You’re implying some people aren’t my enemies,” Trevor shot back. He knew he was out of his depth. Politics weren’t his strong suit. Hell, social situations in general weren’t his strong suit. Before all this had begun, the happiest nights of his life had been spent observing the night sky at Palomar in San Diego. He had been completely alone, save for the data and perhaps one or two grad students interested in that data.
“So you have a glimmer of intelligence then,” Anput replied, giving a coy smile. With anyone else Trevor might have assumed she was flirting. “Everyone here will seek to use you for one end or another, but that is not the same as being an enemy. Take me, for example. I’ve been given the task of making you presentable to the court. If I fail in this, I will lose status with Ra, and thus with the court. It is in my best interest to ensure that you are well groomed, that you have the tools needed to flourish here.”
“And in so doing you earn my gratitude. I’ll owe you a favor, right?” Trevor asked, narrowing his eyes. He already detested this game, though he thought he’d learned the first rule.
“Precisely,” Anput replied, giving him a warmer smile. “There is much to discuss, but before we begin you’ll need to quiet your mind. To do that we must first unburden it. I will permit you three questions. Choose wisely.”
Trevor felt like he’d just rubbed a lamp. Fortunately, long years of Dungeons & Dragons had prepared him for just such an occasion. The mistake people often made with questions like this was trying to learn too much. Aim lower, and you were more likely to get what you wished for.
“How can I make an ally of Anubis?” Trevor asked, giving Anput a wry smile.
Anput merely blinked for long moments, then burst into musical laughter once more. “You are a bold one, aren’t you? Anubis is not easily swayed, not even by me. If you wish to earn his patronage, you must prove yourself in battle. He respects strength, and little else. It will also benefit you if you adopt our cause, and prove your loyalty to Ra. Does that answer suffice?”
“It does,” Trevor nodded, considering her words. He needed a way to prove himself, but there was no immediate solution. One would present itself eventually, however. “For my second question, how can I convince Ra that I am useful enough to outweigh any threat I pose?”
Anput reached across the space between them, resting a cool hand on his leg. She stared up into his eyes, her own half closed and sensuous. “I begin to believe you may survive here, Trevor Gregg. You may even thrive, if your third question is as inventive as the first two.”
18
Conduit
Blair settled into a half lotus at the foot of the central obelisk. Ka floated next to him, a ghostly green hologram. Its translucent form appeared stronger here in the Ark of the Redwood than it had in the Nexus. He still found its alien appearance strange, as he did its command of the English language. “What do I need to do?”
“It is simple, Ka-Dun,” Ka said, cocking its head. “Merely think of the Nexus, and envision its heart. Generate a flow of energy from the heart of this Ark to the Nexus, and the conduit will be complete.”
Blair did as asked, though he found the process strange. So much of shaping was about visualization, which made sense from a scientific standpoint. The brain generated electrical impulses based on thought, and shaping tapped into those impulses. He envisioned a river of light flowing from the massive heart of power at the base of his Ark, the river snaking through the ocean until it reached the Nexus. A moment later an enormous shudder passed through the Ark. The lights dimmed for a split second, then returned at full strength.
