torg 03- The Nightmare Dream

by Jonatha Ariadne Caspian

  And then his sight began to clear. The rushing jubilation of restoration filled his ears, surged through his lungs, leapt the nerves and sinews of his limbs. The pain seeped into a tingling, living pulse, and rushed in rhythm with his stride. He felt exquisitely alive, feathered by ash and sand crystals that whorled in the vortex of his passing, warming in the exertion of his blood. He heard the crunch of his feet and the slide of sand in his footsteps, the renewed cry of insects no longer overshadowed by his passage, and he was filled with

  joy-

  He stopped finally, gazing through the Deep Mist in the direction of his warriors. He was still far from the battle, but he could hear the sounds of conflict. What life they must be experiencing! He wished that he had traveled with them, led them as their Saar, instead of staying behind. Rec Pakken had cautioned him from joining the fray, but he had finally won out and broke away. Let the Darkness Device worry like a lakten over her young. Baruk Kaah was no newly-hatched hen who needed protecting. He was Saar of Takta Ker, High Lord of the Living Land! He would make the Earthers tremble with his power.

  In the distance far ahead, Baruk Kaah heard the sounding of a horn. It was loud, thunderous. It signalled the arrival of the Wild Hunt. Soon, the next patch of land would belong to him and Lanala.

  He couldn't wait to join his people, to help them give life to the dead of this world. With renewed energy and burning anticipation, Baruk Kaah continued his run.

  45

  Julie kept the jeep moving through the mist, but after a few minor collisions with fallen logs and rocks, she kept the speed down to a crawl. They had been lucky so far, and she definitely didn't want to blow a tire or blunder into some hidden object that would do more to the jeep than dent a fender.

  "What are we following, Kurst?" she asked without looking at the man beside her. She did not dare take her eyes from the road for even a split second, as visibility was nearly non-existent. "I don't see anything that you could possibly be using for landmarks."

  "I am not directing us by sight, Julie," Kurst explained.

  "Then how?"

  "I am following Scythak's scent," Kurst said. "He traveled to Twentynine Palms from a bridge in the Living Land. We will trace his smell to that bridge and make our way from there."

  She wasn't sure if she believed Kurst, but since they were already hopelessly lost in the mist — at least as far as she could tell — it made little difference which direction they took. It was all the same within the gray cloud that covered everything.

  The change happened abruptly. One minute Julie was straining to see beyond the glare of the jeep's headlights, trying to make out shapes past the reflective blanket of fog. The next minute the jeep emerged into a clearing, and the headlights landed upon a huge edeinos

  standing upon a slight rise in the ground.

  The edeinos was larger than Tal Tu, broader, more powerful in stance and bearing. His eyes reflected the light cast by the jeep's beams, and Julie saw anger and hatred in those alien eyes.

  "Shoot it, Ace!" Julie screamed, trying to rationalize her fear. It was only an edeinos, she told herself. Even if it was an evil one, it wasn't some unstoppable monster. But before Decker could snap off a single shot, the mist engulfed the edeinos in a protective shroud, hiding him from sight.

  Julie turned to Kurst to find out which way to go and she jumped, startled. He had transformed, and a huge werewolf was sitting as best it could beside her in the cramped space.

  "Kurst?" she shouted, "Which way?"

  The werewolf pointed toward the right, not taking his eyes away from the billowing mist. She swung the jeep around and gave it some gas.

  "I don't know about the rest of you, but that thing scared the hell out of me," Julie said, trying to make conversation in order to break her mood.

  "It should have, Julie," Paragon agreed from the back seat. "That was Baruk Kaah."

  46

  He was here! The singer had returned! Oh, the audacity of one he had given such trust to! Baruk Kaah could not believe how much fortune his goddess had bestowed upon him, and he literally shook with the joy of it! Eddie Paragon had come back, marching up to the High Lord like an old tra presenting itself to a pack of tresirs for the kill.

  There were others with the singer, though, and they carried dead objects from beyond the borders of the Living Land. How dare the singer bring such things here! Baruk Kaah noted with a slight tinge of nervousness that the dead things were working, for he heard the unnatural sound of the dead beast they rode upon, smelled the foul stink of its burning breath. He remembered his attack on the Earther hard point, and his subsequent loss against it. He had not been able to force his will and reality upon it, and it had cost him dearly. Could they have with them more such hard points? No! That was unthinkable!

  The High Lord peered through the mist, watching them flee. There was a female and two males with Paragon, and they all had the odor of stormers about them. He glanced back into the mist, looking for a messenger to carry his words to the ravagon. He made the motions of command, and a young warrior approached.

  "How may I serve you, Saar?" the youth inquired, positioning his body in the lowly shape of subservience.

  "Find the ravagon," Baruk Kaah ordered, adding motions of speed and urgency to accentuate his words. "Have him join me here."

  The warrior bowed, offered a quick prayer to Lanala to grant him speed, and took off into the mist. Then Baruk Kaah turned toward the direction Paragon and his companions had taken.

  "Now you shall learn the powers of the High Lord of Takta Ker, singer," Baruk Kaah vowed. "Now you shall know life in all its abundance. Take the knowledge with you to Lanala when you die, and tell her you learned it from her beloved, Baruk Kaah!"

  47

  Decker watched the rear, straining to see if anyone or anything was following in their wake. The jeep bounced over bumps and small obstructions in the road, and every so often Julie cut the wheel hard to one side to avoid some larger obstacle. The congressman was more concerned with whatever the High Lord might decide to throw at them, so he kept his attention focused behind them. He did not share Julie's opinion that they had left Baruk Kaah in the dust. Apparently, from the worried glances that he kept making over his shoulder, neither did Paragon.

  Ace fingered the trigger of the heavy machinegun, nervously keeping himself ready to fire at the least sign of pursuit. He knew that Baruk Kaah would be powerful, but he had faith that the weapon would be able to stop the edeinos — or anything else they might run into.

  "Damn it!" Julie yelled from the driver's seat, and the jeep lurched hard to the right. For a moment, Ace thought they would continue to spin completely around, but a tree appeared out of the mist. The jeep smashed into it with a jarring impact, and then caromed back. The vehicle gave a shudder, then the engine died.

  Decker saw that she had spun out trying to avoid a crevice that cut across the road. Had she not gotten around it, the jeep would have cracked an axle — or worse.

  "Shit!" she cursed, trying to get the engine to restart. It coughed, but wouldn't turn over. "I bet there's not a tow truck within a thousand miles of this place."

  "We've got another problem," Paragon informed them.

  Stepping out of the mist was Baruk Kaah. He stopped about fifty feet from them, but they could see him clearly as the fog around him was dissipating. The edeinos High Lord let out a terrible roar, then levelled his alien gaze at Eddie Paragon.

  "Singer," the High Lord said in a rasping, lizard voice, "you have disappointed me. I offered you an honored position at the Saar's side, and you betrayed me."

  "We're from different worlds, Baruk Kaah," Paragon said. "I couldn't survive in yours. I'd wind up going mad."

  "Madness is still an experience, a sensation. Now you will be left without experiences. Now you will just die," Baruk Kaah hissed.

  "I don't think so," Decker called, pointing his machinegun at the edeinos. He wasn't sure, but he thought the High Lord was laughing.


  "That will not work here, human," Baruk Kaah said as he strode forward, intent on destroying the arrogant humans with his bare hands. "This is my world, and the dead things of your world are nothing here."

  Tangible waves of power emanated from the edeinos, and Decker felt his resolve waning. My God, he thought, how can I oppose someone with this kind of power? The congressman's whole body trembled, his legs started to go weak, and he felt like a small ship being buffeted by an angry sea.

  Kurst was beside him then, speaking to him in his calm manner. "He is trying to impose his will upon you, Ace. Fight it. It is your belief against his as to whether the weapon will work here. I believe that it will."

  "So do I," Paragon added.

  "Of course it will work, Ace," Julie assured him, adding her support. "You know it will."

  "Yes," Decker admitted, watching as Baruk Kaah closed the distance between them with wide, bouncing strides, "I do."

  He squeezed the trigger.

  Baruk Kaah's eyes widened. His tooth-filled maw fell open. His hands went up in a defensive gesture. But none of those actions were in time. The heavy machinegun added its voice to the others, and it sang out with affirmation, a confirmation of belief punctuated by the sound of high-explosive rounds bursting from the barrel. The rounds carried with them Ace's belief in his world and his reality. If you pulled the trigger in Ace's world, then the gun fired. There was simply no other choice. He believed that, and with the support of Kurst, Paragon, and Julie he was able to block out the doubts and fears projected by the High Lord. He squeezed the trigger. And, as always, his aim was true. The High Lord of the edeinos fell beneath a barrage of explosive charges.

  "I got it!" Julie exclaimed as she turned the key and the jeep started.

  "Get us out of here, Julie," Decker said, steadying himself on the-still-warm machinegun. "I don't want to try that again."

  48

  Colonel Matthews and Major Covent sat together in the command jeep, watching as the war continued. It was not a pretty sight. There were no clear rules of battle, no set positions to defend. All either side knew was their own goals—the lizards and gospog wanted to walk out of the storm, the American soldiers wanted to prevent them from accomplishing that goal.

  It was a bloody engagement. The lizards were virtually helpless before the weapons the soldiers employed, and they were cut apart by automatic fire power. What they lacked in weaponry, though, they made up in speed and numbers. The soldiers were busy running from one part of the storm to another trying to contain their advance. The gospog were another matter. They could take much more damage before they fell, so valuable ammunition was being wasted trying to bring them down. They also had automatic weapons, captured from dead American soldiers during earlier battles. The first bursts had come as a surprise to the soldiers, slicing a wide path through them before they could respond. Now they had taken up defensive positions, digging in to wait out which side would run out of ammo first.

  Waiting to see when their guns would stop working.

  "I hope Sebastian and Tal Tu find the stelae in time," Covent commented.

  "You put too much hope in these schemes, major," Matthews sneered.

  "What else is there to believe in?"

  Soon the sounds of battle lessened, and Covent could see that his men were holding the invaders at bay. While they had been eager to rush headlong into the path of heavy gunfire, there was a limit to their self-destructive tendencies.

  "We've got them, Covent!" Matthews exclaimed. "By God, I think we've stopped the charge!"

  Covent was about to join him in celebratory congratulations when a thunderous sound echoed out of the storm. It sounded like the worst thunderhead he ever heard, but it also sounded like the blare of Gabriel's Horn. It sounded like the end of the world.

  It fell deathly quiet after the echo died down. Nothing moved on either side. Covent rubbed his eyes, thinking they were playing tricks on him. The wall of the storm had broken off, sending a tower of black, lightning-filled cloud rolling toward his soldiers. Then, as he watched, the cloud bubbled away. In its place were terrible, black-clad riders atop huge war horses. The mounts galloped in place for a few seconds, showing supernaturial discipline throughout the activity around them, then the horn sounded again.

  And the slaughter began.

  49

  Mobius sat at the great bench in his workroom, tinkering with his latest invention. It was a mass of tubes, resistors and wires, and it smelled of weird science and arcane rites. Clemeta was beside him, gently massaging his shoulders while he worked. Angus Cage, still undercover in his role as a palace servant, carried a tray of fruits and wine, and placed it before the Pharaoh. Mobius, wearing the brown cowl that covered his features and muffled his voice, did not even look up. Clemeta, however, graced him with a smile that made his heart melt.

  He held his breath, trying to get her out of his mind. He had never fallen for a woman this hard before (okay, maybe once or twice), and never while on a job (although there was that time in Germany...). The invention could be important, but he decided not to take any chances this time. He bowed, turned, and walked quickly toward the door.

  "One moment," Mobius called, and Cage froze.

  Had he slipped up somehow? Was Mobius able to pick up his thoughts about the Royal Escort through some new gadget hidden within his cowl? His heart raced, and he used every mental control he could think of to calm himself.

  "Yes, Pharaoh?" Cage asked, keeping his head low in a sign of fealty.

  "You may take the tray back to the kitchens," Mobius said. "We will not need it."

  He retrieved the tray, trying not to watch as Clemeta peeled a grape with her teeth. He made it to the door without incident, but almost walked into the two men that entered as he opened it.

  The first was one of Mobius' special agents, for he wore insignias that marked him as such. The second was the hooded villain known as the Green Shroud. Cage had gone up against the Shroud back on Terra. He hoped the villain didn't recognize him. He bowed to the pair and pushed past them. They ignored him as they moved into the room.

  Cage waited a few minutes to see if they would come right out. When they didn't, he moved back to the door, pushed it open a crack, and listened.

  "I want the Gaunt Man's Infernal Machine!" Mobius declared. "I want you two to find its location before this planet stops spinning and report back to me. It holds the energy I need to become Torg, and with the Gaunt Man off on one of his frequent side trips, this is the perfect opportunity for me to claim it."

  "We shall not fail you, Pharaoh," the Nile agent declared.

  "I'll have my associates scour the world in search of it, Mobius," the Green Shroud agreed.

  "Then do it!" the Pharaoh shrieked. "I want to surprise the Gaunt Man when he returns, and what a surprise it will be!"

  The meeting concluded, Cage disappeared down the corridor before the two villains emerged from the workroom. He didn't know what any of this meant, but

  he was sure Dr. Frest would know. All he had to do was make contact with him without breaking his cover. Piece of cake, he mused.

  50

  The ravagon found Baruk Kaah lying alone beside a shattered tree. He cursed the arrogance of the High Lord. First he thought he could stamp out a hard point as big as Silicon Valley, then he decided to go one-on-one against stormers with high-tech Earther weapons. He did not deserve his Darkness Device!

  Leaning close, he checked for signs of life. The Saar still lived! That meant the ravagon was obliged to aid him. The warrior who brought him the High Lord's message was with him, staring in shock at his fallen master. The ravagon slapped his wings across his body and faced the young edeinos.

  "Go gather the gotaks and bring them here," the ravagon ordered. "The priests of the dead will know what to do with Baruk Kaah."

  "Will he live?" the young warrior asked.

  "If you hurry," -he replied, "and if they can get him to Rec Pakken in time."

&n
bsp; The warrior took off without another word, running as fast as he could into the mist. The ravagon turned back to the fallen High Lord.

  "You had to attempt to take Paragon alone?" he asked, expecting no answer. "Your pride has been your undoing, High Lord of Takta Ker."

  The ravagon spread black wings. He would not confront the stormers by himself, but he would follow them to see where they were going. They were dangerous, and that meant they could pose a threat to his own master, the Gaunt Man. He took one more look at the

  High Lord lying beneath him.

  "Pitiful," the ravagon scowled. Then, with a powerful flap of his wings, he took to the air.

  51

  Thratchen stood before the Gaunt Man's ornate mirror. The mirror still leaned against the wall in the workroom beneath Illmound Keep, in the place it had been since the Gaunt Man moved it from the tower. A spider-web crack marred the reflective surface, radiating from the spot Thratchen had punched on the night of the Gaunt Man's demise.

  The mirror, which the Gaunt Man named Wicked, was a portal to other places, as well as a means to secretly view those who were far away. Thratchen had shattered it in order to keep Kurst from using its power to reach Decker, to force Mara and the others to use their own powers to send the werewolf — dire wolf, he corrected — on his way. Now, looking at his own reflection in the mirror, he hoped he had not destroyed the instrument.

  "Wicked," Thratchen intoned, calling the mirror by its name as he had secretly observed the Gaunt Man do, "reveal to me Kurst."

  Nothing. The demonkind's reflection remained, cut through by the tiny cracks in the glass. Thratchen placed his hands on the ornate frame. "Wicked," he demanded, "show me the dire wolf!"

  Was it his imagination, or was the spider-web crack shrinking? Could the mirror heal itself? As he watched, the surface shimmered, clouded over, and his own image disappeared. Thratchen tried to back away, but he could not pull his hands free. His fingers had somehow passed through the wood and were now trapped inside the frame. Panic welled inside him, and Thratchen