“Sure thing, sir,” I said. “That’s damn clever of you, if you don’t mind me saying. Do you want me to first get the book on our champion’s abilities?”
“Explain your meaning, and be quick about it.”
I was freebasing ideas as fast as they popped into my head. I felt as if the Master, the giant shadow, was like the genie in the old Aladdin tales I’d heard as a kid. I couldn’t defeat him, but maybe I could cork him in the bottle—if only I could get him to go back into it.
“Flesh creature, why are you stalling?”
“Oh,” I said. “Beran stashed a book on the champion’s abilities. He planned on trading it with you if things turned out badly for him.”
The Master turned to look at Beran on the other side of the portal. The Antaran still lay there in shock.
“You are lying,” the Master told me. “There is no book.”
I snorted and shook my head. “Go ahead and ask Beran if you don’t believe me. I can wait.”
The Master’s yellow eyes blazed, and he pointed a shadowy arm at me. “I could blast you into pieces with a thought.”
“I don’t doubt that. But the question still stands. Do you want the book or not?”
I waited, knowing that everything rested on the shadow’s next decision.
Slowly, the Master lowered his arm. “Where do you gain this courage, or does mere stupidity drive your tongue?”
“I’m the cleverest man on Earth,” I said. “That’s why Beran brought me along so I could advise him.”
“I deem that dubious, as you were paralyzed when I arrived.”
“Of course,” I said, “because Beran feared my brilliance. Still, I gotta say, sir, how am I going to help if you question everything I tell you?”
“Impertinent rascal, we shall find out soon enough if you’re a liar or a miracle-worker’s advisor. Await me here, as it will not be easy for me to transfer you through the portal twice in short succession.”
The Master thereupon turned to the portal and made the slow passage from one dimension to the next.
At that point, I ran for a side hatch. It opened easily enough. I saw what had to be Beran’s chronowarp. It was a large metal disc the size of a dinner table and with as much depth. The thing churned inside as it created the necessary conditions to open the portal between realities.
I took a deep breath. I had to destroy the thing, and I had to do it now. But I didn’t possess any weapons except for the terror that was inside the otherworldly knife.
“Okay,” I told the terror in the knife, “listen to me. I think I have it. You’re terrified of the Master. I have no idea why, but that doesn’t matter. Here’s the deal. Help me destroy the chronowarp and the passageway closes. That leaves just you on this side, and from what I’ve seen, you’ll lord it on Earth for ten thousand years or more.”
The knife lay inert in the metallic sheath at my side.
“I’ll also let you overpower my will,” I said. “You know I have tons of cool tech stashed away, right? With me as your slave creature, who will be able to stop you?”
I had the sense that the knife was thinking over the proposal.
I yanked the blade out of the scabbard, holding it up. “What do you have to lose?” I asked. “This is your chance for greatness. All you need is the daring to grab for the gold ring.”
The knife suddenly pulsated with power, and I felt my personal body-control slipping.
“Let’s do this,” I said between clenched teeth.
I lunged at the chronowarp and hacked at the metal. It resisted. Then, the terror in the blade activated whatever powers it possessed. For the next few seconds, I hacked and slashed the chronowarp until it stopped vibrating and supplying whatever it did that opened the pathway between dimensions.
Now you are mine, the knife said in my mind.
“Give me a few more seconds, though,” I said. “We have to make sure nothing went wrong.”
Reluctantly, the knife seemed to agree.
I hurried through the hatch and stopped in shock as I saw the Master looking around as if to see where I’d gone. I had a split-second’s hope that I could slink back into the side room. Then the Master saw me, and his yellow eyes blazed with wrath.
“What is the meaning of this?” he said in a grim voice.
“Master?” I asked.
“Come here, slave. I want to see the book.”
-53-
The knife in my hand wilted, all attempts at dominating me ceasing. As I approached the Master in the chamber, I sheathed the otherworldly blade.
“I sense a change in you,” the Master said. “But that does not matter. The Antaran agreed with you. He had written a book. He actually tried to barter with it, the fool. Now, give it to me so I may study the champion’s abilities.”
“Look!” I cried, as if horrified, “the portal is closing.”
The Master turned toward the portal. Nothing seemed amiss. The way was still open. Why hadn’t destroying the chronowarp closed it?
I saw Beran on the other side as wisps of fog seemed to sniff at his prone form. Would one of them try to possess him? Or did they have to wait for the Master to give the order? It seemed like a monstrous process. I realized that Beran’s mind still functioned, as he must have recognized what I had been doing in making up a book about a nonexistent champion.
The Master turned to me. “This is amazing. The portal is indeed closing, although it will take time before it is shut. I deem that it will remain open for a few spans yet. How did you sense that it was in the process of closing?”
Destroying the chronowarp had worked. That was a relief, and the Master didn’t seem to understand anything about the process.
“Thing,” the Master boomed at me.
“Right,” I said, finding it hard to concentrate with my fate on the line. I was running out of ideas.
“Ahhh…” I said, as he glared at me. I patted the knife sheathed at my hip. The blade stirred as if with outrage that I’d blame it.
The Master’s shadow head jerked up, as he seemed to do a double take. “The knife names you a deceiver. It says you tricked it into helping you.”
“Oh, right,” I said, sarcastically, “as if that’s even possible. I’m just a poor creature of flesh and bone, remember? I’m not like you guys. Can I possess you?”
“Do not prattle foolishness at a time like this,” the Master said.
“Sorry about that,” I said, “but the knife is a notorious liar. It has possessed me for quite some time, and I’ve watched it use me to lie to everyone.”
“The knife claims it has not controlled you.”
“That’s another lie, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry if that shows up poorly on the rest of you.”
“What does that even mean? I am the Master. The terror in the knife is at best a foot soldier, in your way of thinking.”
“Is that why it was banished to our realm so long ago?” I asked.
“What are you suggesting? A Polarion stole the knife and brought it here.”
I laughed, shaking my head, which flung droplets of sweat from me. My nerves were close to breaking. “I can’t believe the knife is really trying to lie to you, the Master of its kind. What’s the usual punishment for lying to you, sir?”
“Do not seek to interrogate me, flesh creature,” the Master said. “Otherwise—”
The rocks of the rockslide shook again, harder and louder than before. What was doing that?
“Get the book,” the Master told me. “Do not attempt anymore foolishness. And be quick about it.”
I took a step and then hesitated.
“What’s wrong now?” the Master asked. “Why aren’t you getting the book?”
“The terror, sir,” I said. “What if it controls me while I’m getting the book, and the knife forces me to do something stupid?”
“You can’t think I believe any of your lies.”
“Sir, how could I resist the terror’s control? That’s what hap
pened this last time just like I told you.”
“As to that,” the Master said, “I have no idea how you could resist the terror. The idea seems preposterous that it isn’t controlling you now.”
“There you have it, sir.”
The giant shadow stared at me. “Quick. Give me the knife.”
I began to unbuckle the belt.
You promised, the knife wailed in my mind. You said I could rule here once the Master departs.
“Did you hear that, sir?” I asked.
“I did indeed,” the Master said. “You were right. It is a deceitful little terror. Pitch it to me and get the book.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. But then I couldn’t move, as the knife fought against me.
“Bah!” the Master said. “I do not have time for this tomfoolery.” He beamed me with darkness.
A terrible vitality filled me, and in that instant, I saw reality differently. I’d been seeing it with a physical bias, giving weight and substance to flesh and bone. Viewed now with some of the Master’s power in me, I realized we were the insubstantial ones, and they the things of true substance.
I doubt that makes any sense. But I realized the Polarions must have made the same error. To the “shadow” beings, we surely appeared insubstantial, as things to flick aside or dominate, depending on their purposes.
I tore the belt from my waist and pitched the scabbard and knife to the Master. I could see the terror in the blade. It was hideous with red-rimmed eyes and fangs for teeth. It glared at me in otherworldly hatred. I could feel it like heat against my soul.
Tearing away from the burning glance, I ran for another hatch, not the one where the broken chronowarp lay, but a different one. I finally sensed the shadow beings’ innate power. It was terrible. We were like pygmies to them. As I ran, I marveled that Beran had done as well as he had against the Master. The Antaran truly had been a super-genius. His ambition, though, had led him onto one dangerous path too many.
There was a lesson in that. I didn’t ponder it as the hatch opened. I looked back. The Master watched me, and it seemed as if he had grown suspicious of my motives. It occurred to me that the terror in the knife must have been telling the Master my real plan. The question was, which of us did the Master really believe?
“You will have great wealth when you bring me the book,” the Master boomed.
I waved to him, nodding, and yet, still I hesitated.
“You will have power,” he promised.
Did the Master believe I’d tricked him? Did he still hope, though, that I would come through for him? When a person really wants something, it’s easier to trick him into believing you’ll do as he hopes.
“Did you lie to me, flesh creature?” he shouted.
“Never!” I shouted back. “Don’t believe anything the terror tells you. He’s a terrible liar, sir.”
The rockslide at the exit rumbled and shook once more. At the same time, the portal scene changed, becoming dimmer.
The Master glanced back at the portal. He seemed to study it. Then he glanced at me. “Why are you still standing there?” he shouted. “Get the book, you fool.”
I was starting to believe that I could actually pull this off, and that changed my mood. Even though this was probably stupid, I couldn’t help myself.
“I’m having second thoughts about this, sir,” I shouted.
“Vain creature,” he roared, “I will blot you out.” He aimed a shadowy hand at me and fired an inky black blot.
I should have ducked, but I couldn’t. Horror filled me as I realized the Master’s dominating will must have been holding me in place. I shouldn’t have needlessly antagonized him. Why had I been so stupid?
My horror grew as the inky blot neared. I hate to admit it, but I couldn’t take it, so I closed my eyes. Then the inky blot began to sizzle.
I opened my eyes. What the heck…? The inky black blot burned up just inches from my torso. It seemed unable to advance to consume me.
“What are you?” the Master shouted. “Have you been pretending to be a fool? Are you really the champion?”
I was too surprised at what had just happened. I was too relieved that I wasn’t dead. I couldn’t drum up anything to tell the Master.
The shadow made as if to fire another inky black blot, but paused and reconsidered. He headed toward the portal, and he began to push through. It seemed like more of a struggle this time than last. It proved to me that the way was indeed closing.
Something primitive welled up in my heart, something elemental and maybe even childish.
“Hey, Master!” I shouted.
He turned.
I raised my right fist and then my middle finger. I hoped this pissed the tar out of him because he’d nearly terrified me to death.
“And don’t you ever come back here, you weakling!” I shouted, shaking the finger at him.
In the end, the Master ignored me as he continued to push through the membrane between realms. The terror in the knife was making whining noises. Finally, the Master plopped through to his side.
He turned to regard me a last time and spoke words that I couldn’t hear. I figured he was making dire promises. I brought up my second hand and doubled my flipping-off power.
I knew it was juvenile, and saw myself for an instant as a monkey in a tree hurling rotten fruit at a lion looking up, a lion that had almost eaten me on the ground.
In any case, the Master turned to Beran, scooped him up in his shadowy arms, the terror knife secure in one hand, and surely carried him off to a dismal fate.
Soon thereafter, the portal closed for good. The rocks of the sealing rockslide, however, continued to rumble and shake.
-54-
I stood shivering in the cathedral-like chamber deep under the Antarctic ice, drained from the encounter with the Master. Fortunately, lights from the ancient Polarion machines provided enough illumination so that I could see.
Now that I thought about it, though, I had no idea how far underground I was.
None of the floaters was in working order. All the clones were dead. In a sluggish, half-aware fashion, I looted the corpses, buckling on two of their gun-belts and taking the beam pistols that went with them. As I did that, the rocks of the rockslide continued to do their thing.
I was sure someone or something was attempting to dig me out. Who or what that was I couldn’t figure out.
As I waited, slowly regaining my awareness, coming out of shock, I suspect, I kept thinking about the final inky missile that had sailed at me. What had caused it to stop short? What had caused the sizzling? I couldn’t fathom an answer.
“Logan?”
The word made me jump half out of my skin as my throat tightened in fear. A second later, I clawed for a beam pistol, drawing it from a holster.
“What is wrong?” Rax asked me. “Do you sense more danger?”
“You bastard!” I shouted. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“For what reason?” asked Rax.
“What happened to you? Why have you been out of it all this time?”
“I do not know why.”
A revelation struck. “Hey, did you stop an inky missile from striking me?”
“Give me a moment, please. Some of my connections still seem…stiff.”
“How can they be stiff?” I asked.
“Ah, I see,” Rax said. “Yes. I did stop the attack.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Through an electrical discharge,” Rax said.
“How did you know…an electrical discharge would work?”
“That, Logan, is a leading question. I will have to study the dilemma for a time before I can provide satisfactory data.”
I wondered if I should tell Rax about my new theory concerning Rax Prime crystals, that a Polarion had brought them to sentience after returning from the Shadow Realm. I figured I’d tell him later when we could argue about it. Right now, the tumbling rocks shouted for our attention.
�
��This is interesting,” Rax said. “I believe our benefactors will prove to be the bronze robots.”
As Rax said that, a bronze robot-hand reached through and yanked back several rocks and then poked its robot head through, looking around. The thing appeared to spy me. It withdrew the head, pushed aside the final blocking rocks and clanked through. The robot moved in the familiar mechanical fashion, heading straight for me.
“Is it friendly?” I asked Rax.
“I seriously doubt that,” the crystal replied. “As you once told me, Sand wants you dead after completing the mission, correct? The mission is complete, thus, Sand likely desires your demise, and that is the robot’s task.”
A cold feeling welled in my gut, spreading outward. At the same time, more bronze robots clanked into the chamber. One of them carried what appeared to be a medium-sized, old-school TV.
“What is that?” I whispered to Rax.
The crystal did not reply. But he didn’t need to. At that moment, the TV screen flickered on, and Sand peered out of it.
The entire troop of robots clanked toward me. Would my beam pistols be able to wreck all of them? I kind of doubted it.
In any case, I rolled my shoulders, pushed aside parka fabric and rested a hand on the butt of each holstered gun. If I was about to die, I would at least go down fighting.
Soon, a semi-circle of giant robots—all of them far too close and blocking my escape—stood at attention before me. The one with the comm box stood closest.
“This is the ancient Portal Chamber,” Sand said from the screen.
“I reckon that’s right,” I said.
The robot holding the TV-like portable swiveled back and forth. It seemed as if Sand studied the dead clones, the busted floaters and other indications of battle.
“According to my sensors,” Sand said, “the Antaran successfully opened the way between dimensions.”
“You got that right,” I said.
“Did you witness the event?”
“Yup.”
“I had wondered,” Sand said. “That provides me with something of a dilemma. According to my post-victory schedule, this is the moment to eliminate you and Rax from the greater problem.”
Invaders: The Antaran (Invaders Series Book 3) Page 23
