by Mike Luoma
Chapter Nineteen
Groggy, his head aching, Alibi wakes up. He's lying on the floor of a small room – small enough to be a large closet, if not for the one window. Light from outside illuminates the small space. He sits up and raises his hands to rub his temples. He massages his jaw. It feels like he's been clenching his teeth hard for days. His goggles are gone.
"At least I'm not tied up," Alibi thinks out loud.
"That did not seem necessary," a loud voice says with a laugh. Alibi looks over at the now open door. The large figure he assumes is now Ashumeth stands in the doorway. "The Servants are under instructions to stop you. You will not get far if you run. And this time, they have orders to kill you, not merely bring you to me."
Alibi stands up to face his captor.
"Ashumeth?" he asks.
The man begins laughing. He answers Alibi with a question as his laugh winds down.
"Do you have a lisp?"
"No," Alibi answers.
"Azhumet!" The man proclaims.
He advances into the room. "But... That IS interesting," the man says, glaring at Alibi. "Do you think you have figured something out?" Azhumet cocks his head to the side as if listening to something. "What do you know?"
Alibi feels but cannot see an over-sized, hot, greasy dark hand grabbing him by the head, its slippery fingers closing around his skull.
"No, stop," Alibi protests weakly. His eyes roll back in his head and he collapses in a faint.
"Strange," Azhumet notes. "He blocked me out. No human should be able to do that." Azhumet turns and leaves the unconscious form of Alibi in a pile on the floor. He barks orders to the Eldred in an ancient alien tongue, a language not commonly spoken in over a million years. He slams the door to Alibi's room behind him.
Alibi can't hear the door. He's not really in the room, not now. The walls of the room seem to have dissolved away, and he floats alone on a silent gray sea that disappears into a lighter gray mist.
What the fuck did Azhumet do to me? Where am I?
ALIBI?
A voice calling his name echoes strange and loud inside of Alibi's head.
Azhumet?
NOT AT ALL.
Alibi feels waves of amusement wash over him like thoughts of laughter.
YOU AND I... WE HAVE MET. ONCE. LONG AGO. YOU WOULDN'T REMEMBER...
Now Alibi can feel a sadness like an almost palpable thing wash over him.
Who are you?
He thinks the question, but he thinks he already knows the answer.
Are you my father? Are you Campion? Or are you Azhumet, fucking with my head?!
