The Sanctum of the Sphere: The Benevolence Archives, Vol. 2

by Luther M. Siler

  I DON’T THINK–OOH! I DO! Namey said. ENGAGING.

  The fire from the ground didn’t stop, but it got significantly sparser as the Nameless matched the color of the sky and continued evasive maneuvers.

  THERE IS A LANDING AREA INSIDE THE COMPOUND, the boat said. SHALL WE ATTEMPT TO PICK RHUNDI UP BEFORE WE LAND?

  “She said not to,” Brazel said. “‘See you on the ground.’ Her exact words. Land. We’ll figure the rest out from there.”

  DESCENDING, the ship confirmed, rather unnecessarily.

  “Glad to know you still like the sound of your own voice,” Brazel griped.

  There was a pained groan from the back of the ship, and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

  “Asper,” Grond said, vaulting out of his seat.

  He found the elf a few meters outside the cockpit, unconscious, xir breathing shallow.

  “What the hell happened?” Brazel said. “Namey, is there anybody onboard other than us?”

  NO, the Nameless responded. XE LEFT THE GUNNERY STATION ABRUPTLY AND WAS ON XIR WAY TO THE COCKPIT. NOTHING HAPPENED THAT I AM AWARE OF.

  Grond crouched to pick Asper up. The elf coughed, awakening.

  “Overmorrow…” xe said.

  “What happened to Overmorrow?” Brazel said.

  “I do not know,” the elf said, xir eyes still rolling a bit. “A wave of pain and regret, and now nothing. I … I cannot feel my parent any longer.”

  ROASHAN HAS BEEN DESTROYED, the Nameless said. JUST A MOMENT AGO. I AM SCANNING FOR LIFE SIGNS IN THE AREA. EVERYTHING APPEARS TO BE BENEVOLENCE. THE EXPLOSION APPEARS TO HAVE DESTROYED A NUMBER OF SPIDERSHIPS. THE REST APPEAR TO BE RETREATING AT THIS TIME.

  “They’ll be back,” Brazel said. “Bet on it.”

  “So what do you think?” Grond asked. “Is Overmorrow … what, injured? Dead?”

  “I … I truly cannot tell,” Asper said. The elf took a deep breath, stretching xir arms and legs. “I have never felt anything like that before. I cannot find xir. But I am not always able to. Overmorrow may be unconscious or perhaps in tunnelspace.”

  Asper struggled to xir feet.

  “There is nothing to be done about it now,” the elf said. “We have a job to do. How long until we’re on the ground?”

  MOMENTS, the Nameless confirmed.

  “Are you sure you want to come with us?” Grond said. “You were unconscious a minute ago.”

  “I am fine,” Asper said. “If my parent has died today, we shall avenge xir. If xe lives still, we will meet again. This is not yet over.”

  The crash took K’Shorr by surprise, knocking the ogre off his feet and utterly wrecking the careful layout of his armory. He growled, looking for a particular case, one that held a pair of pistols that he kept around for sentimental reasons. He’d already had to blow the door open just to get into the armory, since the gnome had wrecked the locking mechanism.

  “I do not have time for this shit,” he mumbled, when his eyes finally fell upon the pistols. They were out of the case, tossed into a corner by the combined forces of the rough landing and, no doubt, the flying door. He picked them both up and holstered them, then quickly scavenged a number of blades and some explosives from the wreckage of the room. One way or another, he’d have to return to the ship to recover more of his guns. There was quite a bit in this room that he wasn’t interested in leaving around for what was left of the crew or the Khkks to scavenge.

  The crew. Were they brave enough to try and steal from him? Most of them no doubt were fleeing the ship as fast as they could. He snarled at the thought, then activated a mine and left it just inside the door.

  If I can’t take my shit with me I’ll be damned if I let anyone else have it, he thought.

  He made his way back to the medbay, where he found Barren standing over the dead body of the medic.

  “Not exactly grateful of ya, boss,” he said.

  “He hit his head,” Barren said.

  “Sure,” K’Shorr agreed. Not that I care. “What’s next?”

  “Help me off this ship,” Barren said. His left arm was encased in a cast and bound tightly to his body, and it looked as if the medic had wrapped his ribs as well. The horrid scar on his chest had already bled through the gauze. “And get me inside the Sanctum. Once that happens, I don’t care. You are … released from any obligations you ever had to me once I’m inside. I suggest you get off the surface as quickly as you can.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Well enough,” Barren said. “We may encounter some resistance along the way. Destroy them.”

  “What I do best,” the ogre said, leading the elf out of the medbay.

  The two neither saw nor heard a single living member of the crew as they made their way out of the ship. They encountered a few scattered bodies, some clearly killed by the crash and others that appeared to have been killed by other crew members. There had been some scores settled once the ship hit the ground, apparently. The first airlock they reached had been left open.

  “Stay here,” K’Shorr told Barren. “I’ll see if it’s safe.”

  The ogre edged his way to the door and looked around. There had clearly been a brief battle outside, and it looked as if his crew had gotten the worst of it. He stayed still for a moment, looking for movement, and neither saw nor heard any. Their path to the Sanctum looked clear. The giant pyramid was several hundred meters away, but it dominated the horizon. From his position, still slightly underneath a large part of the ship’s bulk, he couldn’t even see the sky.

  He rolled his neck, hearing the joints pop, then shouldered one of his pistols and walked out of the airlock. Go ahead, take a shot at me.

  Nothing.

  “Weird,” he said. “Where the hell is everybody?”

  “Fled,” said Barren, exiting the ship behind him. “Those who remained behind here were not warriors. I would guess that these–” the elf disgustedly shoved a crewmember’s body out of his way with a foot–“killed a few defenders themselves before being killed. And then the survivors left. They will not impede us.”

  The elf walked out in front of K’Shorr, limping badly but still moving under his own power.

  “Whatever you say,” K’Shorr said, and followed his employer toward the Sanctum.

  Thirty-Four

  The Nameless made it to the landing pad without incident. The camouflage mode likely wouldn’t be terribly useful in deep space, where target identification was done with AI assistance, but for fooling anything using eyes it was a really impressive trick.

  THERE ARE SCATTERED LIFE SIGNS THROUGHOUT THE SETTLEMENT, Namey said.

  “Get in touch with everybody you can,” Brazel said. “Let’s get them out of here before the Benevolence falls back on our heads. Grond, you and I head for the Sanctum. Asper, are you coming with us or do you want to stay here and see if you can coordinate an evacuation?”

  The elf considered. “I shall remain,” xe said. “There are likely injured among our people as well. I will bring back as many as I can.”

  “Boat’s pretty big,” Brazel said. “Ought to be room for everybody. See if you can get ahold of Rhundi, too, or at least send some help her way. Namey, do whatever Asper wants until we get back, unless xe tries to steal you.”

  DEFINE STEAL, the ship said.

  “I’ll leave it up to you,” Brazel said. “Grond, you ready?”

  “Just gotta hit up my quarters,” the halfogre said. “Meet you outside?”

  The gnome nodded, heading for the airlock.

  When Grond emerged from the ship a few minutes later, the halfogre was prepared for battle in a way that Brazel had rarely seen before. The gnome was willing to bet that the amount of armament the halfogre was carrying constituted a good percentage of his body weight.

  “You cannot possibly think you need all that,” Brazel said.

  “I like to be prepared,” Grond said. “You know this.”

  “You ought to prepare with some armor,” Brazel said. “I
don’t know what you have against the stuff.”

  “Slows me down,” Grond said.

  “And two hundred kilos of weapons don’t?”

  “It’s cardio,” the halfogre said, adjusting his cloak. Other than a breechclout under a wide utility belt and his gladiator’s gloves, the cloak was the only clothing he had on. Everything else was supporting something lethal.

  “And if we need to be quiet?”

  Grond adjusted something at his belt, and the world went silent.

  “One of Remember’s toys?” Brazel tried to say, but no sound came out.

  “Yep,” Grond said, dropping the effect. “I don’t think it lasts all that long, but it’s built into the cloak. This one’s way better than my old one.”

  “And yet you brought Angela with you. You old sentimentalist, you.”

  “Of course,” the halfogre said, snapping his sniper’s longbow into ready mode. “Best weapon on the planet.”

  “You could have told me about the brainbox, you know.”

  “I tried,” Grond said, the smile back on his face. “Like four times. You were too busy being an asshole to let me tell you.”

  “That’s called mourning,” the gnome said.

  “Nice of you to admit it,” Grond replied. “Let’s go find Rhundi and kill a couple of people.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Brazel said. The two of them headed for the Sanctum of the Sphere.

  “This is where we part,” Barren said. He and K’Shorr had entered the Sanctum of the Sphere through a broad, open entryway, and they stood before a modern-looking lift ringed by a low fence. The lift went underground.

  The ogre looked at him quizzically.

  “You’re kidding me, right? You’re half-dead. Where are you planning on going?”

  “Down there,” Barren said, finding a control panel for the lift and bringing the system online. “You may stay here. Execute the gnomes if you get a chance, or do a better job of killing the halfogre than the last time you tried. After that, you may do whatever you like.”

  “You’re kidding,” K’Shorr said again.

  Barren looked directly at K’Shorr with eyes filled with pain and blood. “I have no energy left for such things. Goodbye, K’Shorr.”

  The elf stepped onto the lift, which lowered him into the depths underneath the Sanctum. K’Shorr shrugged. He would wait, if that was what Barren wanted.

  Barren reviewed the ritual in his head, trying to block out the pain as the lift descended. Twice his knees buckled underneath him, and the second time he allowed himself to fall. There was no room for pride any longer. He would crawl to his death if that was what he needed to do. Perhaps, finally, the Scouring God would recognize his penitence.

  At one point in his life, he had desired to be a priest of Azamoeg. Now he wished only to not be rejected by him. He had done everything he could. The Noble Opposition was being torn to pieces in the skies above Khkk, and the destructive force he was about to unleash would do the rest. For this he had sacrificed his health. For this, he had had the compulsion placed on the boy and set in motion the chain of events that had brought all of them to this horrid bug-infested planet.

  For nothing, it seemed. The lift finally reached the ground, and Barren painfully climbed to his feet and staggered off the platform. The gnome woman would find a way past K’Shorr. He was certain. He needed to be some distance away when she reached the caverns underneath the surface. He kicked at the control surface for the lift, shattering it and nearly losing his balance in the process. Delaying his pursuers seemed like a good idea.

  He looked around. The caves under the planet were almost beautiful. Phosphorescent mold lent a yellow glow to the caves, which towered overhead, supported by the occasional natural column. The ground under his feet was oddly soft to the touch, and lent his tired feet some energy of their own as he moved what he hoped was a safe distance from the lift.

  He knelt on the ground, shaking out a thin knife from inside one sleeve. He cut the bindings holding his broken arm to his chest, shrieking in pain when the limb fell free. He cut the cast off as well, lacerating his forearm badly in the process.

  Oh well. That was happening soon enough anyway.

  He put the knife down in front of him and reached inside his robes again, producing a small statue. A quick press of a tiny switch activated it, and he pressed his hand down upon it. The world started to go white, but he fought the communication. He did not want to stay with the Benevolence. He wanted only to send them a message.

  You told me I should end my life. I will obey that command, but in my own way.

  He felt anger from the other side of the connection and forced his hand off the sphere, breaking off their communication. He closed his eyes and began to chant. A red light began to shine from his body, and a sigil was burned into the ground around him: The symbol of Azamoeg, eight sinuous legs and an eye.

  He picked up the knife and continued his ritual.

  The Scouring God would be summoned, and he would wipe this entire miserable world from existence.

  Rhundi watched as Barren and K’Shorr entered the pyramid. Amazingly, the Sanctum didn’t actually appear to have a door. The structure was wide open at the base, a twenty-five meter wide entryway allowing anyone and everyone inside. She crept toward the entrance, keeping low and assuming that K’Shorr at least was probably smart enough to be looking behind the two of them every now and again.

  “You guys down here yet?” she said over comm.

  “On our way,” Brazel said. “We’re heading toward the Sanctum from the north. Where are you?”

  Rhundi checked the sun. “West side, I think. Do you two see an entrance from your side?”

  “No,” Brazel said. They were approaching it from one of the pyramid’s flat sides. The farthest point of the three-sided triangle pointed south.

  Just the one, then, or two on opposite sides. “Go to the east side,” she said. “See if there’s a way in back there. There’s a huge pavilion over here leading straight in, but the damn thing’s too big to see if it goes all the way through. If there’s no entrance on the east side, come back around. Let me know once you know. Is Asper with you?”

  “No,” Brazel said. “Xe’s looking for xir people and getting them back to the Nameless.”

  “The Nameless doesn’t have room for that many people.”

  “New Nameless,” Brazel said. “Long story. Tell you later.”

  “Got it,” Rhundi said. “Stay safe.”

  “Always,” Brazel said, and clicked off.

  A few more minutes of careful creeping around had her within a few dozen meters of the Sanctum. The pyramid was so high at this point that she literally couldn’t see the top of it, and the light reflecting off and through the semitransparent walls eliminated any chance of shadows to sneak through if she wanted to get closer. She hugged the side of a building and lowered herself carefully to the ground, watching the entry pavilion, looking for any sign of movement within.

  Hearing movement behind her was the last thing she expected. She flipped over on her back, pistol in hand, startling the young human who was approaching her. He jumped back, hands in the air.

  “Asper sent me! I’m with Asper!” he said, trying to keep his voice down and not doing a very good job.

  “How the hell does Asper know where to find me?” she asked.

  “You know how the elves are,” the man said. “Xe’s contacting everyone xe can who’s still in the compound. Xe let us know to assist any gnomes or halfogres we found. You’re a gnome, right? Is your name Rhundi?” Rhundi couldn’t tell if the man was being serious or not. He smelled and looked scared, but he didn’t immediately strike her as an idiot.

  “Look, I can give you xir comm frequency if you want. Just don’t shoot me.”

  Rhundi thought carefully. The man wasn’t dressed like one of Barren and K’Shorr’s mercenaries, and she could come up with no good reason that he might know her name. Barren and K’Shorr hadn
’t had time to set up a trap.

  Fine. “So how are you planning on helping me?”

  “There’s another way into the Sanctum,” the man said. “Underground. If you’re trying to avoid the two who went in there a few minutes ago, it’ll get you in without them noticing you.”

  Rhundi thought about this for a moment. There was no way that Barren and K’Shorr would be expecting an ambush to come from in front of them.

  “Lead the way,” she said.

  “I feel like the last time you had us invading an abandoned temple it didn’t work out too well,” Grond said.

  “Shut up,” Brazel responded. “Khkk probably doesn’t even have snakes.”

  The two of them had reached the eastern side of the Sanctum of the Sphere and had discovered that that side also featured a wide entryway. If anything, this appeared to be the front door. It soared to thirty meters from the ground and was wide enough to park a medium-sized spacecraft in. Grond peered around the corner to look inside the structure. The entire interior was open, stretching up to the peak high in the distance.

  “He’s in there,” Grond said.

  “Which he?” Brazel asked.

  “K’Shorr,” Grond said. There was no sign of Barren. The ogre stood guard by what looked to be either an open-air lift or a staircase heading underground. A railing that would probably be chest-high on a human but looked comically low next to K’Shorr surrounded it. It looked curiously modern compared to the rest of the structure, and was made of simple steel rather than the glass-like material the rest of the pyramid was built from.

  “So shoot him,” Brazel said. “What’s that fancy longbow for if you’re not gonna use it?”

  Grond considered for a moment, then put Angela on the ground.

  “Grond.” Brazel said. The gnome had a note of alarm in his voice.

  He shrugged off the utilicloak, then pulled off his belt and bandoliers, leaving the rest of his weaponry next to Angela.

  “Grond,” Brazel repeated. “We do not have time for ogre honor shit right now.”

  “No honor involved,” Grond said. “Just history.” He left the gloves on his hands, cracking his knuckles and striding out into the center of the temple.