by Galen Wolf
Still no alert. Gaijann signaled it was safe to move. As the party trudged on, Atorkh muttered, "So what's with this library? Why do we want to go there?" Gaijann heard him breathing heavily as he talked while his boots thudded into the dust.
"Do you ever shut up?" yawned Morah.
"Because we're getting paid?" Torina said.
Atorkh lapsed into a hurt silence. Gaijann heard the kid's sulk, so he said, "There was a civilization once that prized knowledge above weapons or money." He waited for his companions to laugh at the joke but no one did - they were concentrating on their running.
Gaijann turned his attention back to Atorkh. "So - the place is full of books; of digital knowledge stores. It goes down into the ground and the deeper you go, the better the knowledge and more powerful it is. Deep down it's encoded in plasma. They say you can plug it right into your brain and become a genius."
On the net, Severan said, "It's true. The deeper you go, the rarer the information."
The Count was lying back on his litter as his slaves ran along.
Gaijann said, "The people who lived here on Anubis collected knowledge from all over the Universe and curated it. I'm guessing our paymaster wants something pretty valuable, something in particular."
"So we're after knowledge?" Atorkh said - his voice perking up as curiosity beat his sulkiness.
"Yeah." Gaijann winked. "But we need to be careful. The Anubisites got so much knowledge that they eventually got bored and became extinct."
Atorkh pondered this. Finally he said, "Why we running anyway?"
"Because time is short," said Severan.
Atorkh looked over to Torina for confirmation, but the cleric only shrugged.
Suddenly, Severan held up a hand for the rest of the party to stop. In an eye-blink, Atorkh and Torina dropped, pressing their chests against the ground. Morah crouched. Severan fell to one knee and, as if it was a drill rather than real combat, calmly squeezed the trigger on his rifle. The weapon spewed plutonium rounds with a staccato chatter. The sound of gunfire echoed in the dry landscape. Severan looked forward intently. His finger gripped the trigger of his gun as smoke curled lazily from the barrel.
"You didn't see that one, Gaijann," Severan's voice echoed in their heads.
"Sorry boss. Where?"
"11 o'clock. He's ducked behind the ridge. Only one. Check right for others."
"Gotcha." Gaijann moved out wide, insubstantial as a ghost over the rocks. With his cloak on, he was invisible even in the full light of day.
"Need any help?" Morah said.
"Not your kind of help," Severan said, "Not yet." He glanced over at the boy who was nervously playing with his wispy beard. "Atorkh, maybe yours."
"Okay boss. I've got three hostiles. Guessing yours was the middle one." Atorkh had his visor on with its technical combat display drawn from drone data. "Gaijann's closing on the northerly one. The southerly one is circling round."
Mehefin was on her knees next to her father's litter. She looked nervous. The slaves were lying on the ground, squeezing down as far as they could and dirtying their white robes. Count Owain kept his composure. He was staring at Severan like a hawk.
"Fire at will, Atorkh," Severan said.
One of Atorkh's drones flipped up from his backpack and jumped into the sky to join its all-seeing brother. The drones differed in design according to their function. This one hovered like a metal bee then zigzagged off. Atorkh steered it via the neural net. He saw through its eye-prism as it scanned and located the Kissag. The lizard thing was armored and carrying a plasma weapon - a gun far overpowered for the job in hand but that was the lizard men's style - they never used a nutcracker when a sledgehammer would do. Atorkh watched as the half-reptile crept over the rocks, trying to get behind them.
The Kissag were truly freaks - the body of a well-muscled man and the head of something that looked like an iguana. The genetic engineers were cruel, making misshapes for rich men's zoos, most of which were unsustainable and died unable even to breathe or eat. But the Kissag were a trick that worked out, vicious killers and hunters now mainly working as mercenaries.
Atorkh locked on the creature and the drone unleashed its explosive warhead. Gaijann heard it go with a puff of air. The missile was small - a micro armor piercing round but with enough of a payload to blow up a man's head - or a lizard's - but not much more. Through the drone's eyes, Atorkh watched the weapon hit and then the flash and bang and Gaijann saw the kid look away.
A cacophony of firing burst out across the desert plain. Gaijann saw Severan stand and advance on the middle Kissag, shooting from the hip. Gaijann shook his head; the boss was crazy - he had a death wish, that's for sure. Trouble was - he just didn't seem to be very good at dying.
Atorkh moved the drone over to observe the fight and provide back up, not that Severan seemed to need it. One Kissag had Severan in his sights and was hitting him. The giant's energy shield lit up as it took the hits, but he didn't seem to notice. He was also picking up cross fire from the southerly Kissag who was in cover behind a rock. Severan glanced over at it, as if noticing an annoying insect, but then fixed his attention back on his main adversary. Gaijann guessed the Kissag must think it was onto a winner. It was in cover while Severan was advancing through open ground. Normally, that would mean an easy kill.
But then Severan engaged his eye. Inside the cyborg device, lenses turned and acquired the target. The eye locked on and began to generate microwaves inside the lizard's flesh. Within seconds, the Kissag's guts were broiling. It screamed in agony as it cooked from inside - its liver, its stomach, its pancreas all boiling up, and then the lizard flopped down and twitched the ground, steam coming from it. The long agonized whistle that Gaijann heard could have been its death rattle, or it could just have been superheated gas escaping as the body blistered and burst.
Gaijann then went wide round to the right. He moved invisibly over the rock-strewn ground, half an eye on his visor's Heads-up-Display and half an eye where he expected to see the Kissag. He saw a muzzle flash and his visor enhanced the image, discarding the lizard's camo field and seeing it clearly.
The lizard was facing towards Severan while the big man's attention was focused on its comrade. The Kissag in cover was concentrating on the giant and firing off rounds from its kinetic rifle. Gaijann moved quickly to cross the ground to the lizard. It would make it easier to cut its throat if it was looking in the wrong direction. Gaijann loosened his vorpal knife from its sheath and felt the buzz of plasma through the hilt.
The lizard pumped out more rounds and Gaijann watched as the rifle kicked against its shoulder. He moved more cautiously now. He was close to it and the thing still hadn't turned. Then, as if alerted by some sixth sense, it stopped and looked his way. Gaijann wondered whether Kissag tech had improved so it could see through his stealth cloak, but after a few seconds, the lizard turned back and began firing at Severan again.
Gaijann was twenty yards from the Kissag. It was still aiming at Severan. Gaijann got closer. Then he broke into a run. The thing turned round when he was about six yards away. Its black and amber slit eyes flashed wide with alarm, head jerking wildly as it tried to see where the noise was coming from. Even if he was invisible, Gaijann knew it would see the spurts of dust kicked up by his sprinting feet. He saw it cock its rifle and point it in his direction. It blazed round after round where he thought it was. Gaijann sensed the slugs pass near his left arm then the thing corrected its aim and Gaijann tumbled right to avoid the plutonium tipped bullets. He spilled over onto his shoulder as his momentum put him off balance, then he rolled and vaulted to right himself. He landed and turned to re-orientate himself towards the Kissag. The thing only guessed where he might be. When it began firing away to his left, he moved closer - close enough to kiss now. He gripped the knife handle hard. Then three quick steps. Gaijann exploded into movement, feet pounding the earth. He leaped. Too late the Kissag sensed the movement and turned to face him, bringing up its rifle bu
tt to fend him off. Gaijann kicked the weapon away and automatic fire burst from the muzzle as the lizard's fingers twisted on the trigger. The rounds hammered uselessly into the sand and dust. Gaijann slammed his shoulder into the beast, sending it reeling back. Then he tripped it and it staggered back, the rifle slipping from its grip. Gaijann knocked it back until it smacked its head against a rock. He was on it, knees on its shoulders. The Kissag struggled to get up but Gaijann took his vorpal knife and, with a deft slice, cut the reptile's trachea and right carotid artery. Its dark blood pumped into the sand as its inhuman eyes rolled in its head. Gaijann turned his face away as the light in them died. He heard the gurgle of its last bloody breaths and when it was gone, he pushed down its eyelids for it - a mark of respect from one warrior to another. Gaijann stood, wiped the blood from the crackling blue blade, and looked for his boss.
Severan was standing in the middle of the rocky plain, his armor scorched and dented. Gaijann felt an involuntary sigh, then he smiled. Every time it was the same. But one day Severan wouldn't be standing there.
Gaijann switched off the stealth cloak and walked over to the big man. "Glad to see you're okay. It was looking dodgy there for a minute or two, what with the crossfire and all."
The giant grinned. "Yeah, thanks for that. Taking out the third lizard."
"No problem."
Severan grunted. "Now, let's get moving." He looked at the sun as if trying to gauge how long they'd already spent crossing the desert.
The slaves went to pick up the litter, but Count Owain was off it and standing. He scowled. "Leave it! I don't need it." Then he turned to Severan, his face angry. "What was that?"
Severan turned, unconcerned. His red machine eye twisted and focused as it looked at the Count. "What was what?"
The Count said, "Are you trying to die?"
Severan shrugged. "If it comes it comes." He flicked his medallion of the Blind God of Fate as if to emphasize his point.
"I don't know if that was meant to impress me - the suicidal charge, but I'm not paying you to die. I'm paying you to get me into the library and so I can get to what I want."
Severan shrugged. "I wasn't going to die."
Mehefin said, "You said that like you regretted it." Her tone was off hand and her head slightly tilted as she observed Severan.
Severan looked at Mehefin, as if seeing her for the first time - as if before she'd been merely part of the Count's baggage. Gaijann noticed a look in the giant's eye. Mehefin was certainly beautiful. It suddenly struck Gaijann that she looked like Severan's dead wife, Oriel.
Mehefin maintained her gaze. "I just wonder why."
Severn said, "Why what?"
"You want to die."
"I didn't say I did. Just that I don't care too much if I do."
She seemed about to ask him something else, but the giant turned away.
Then Torina came over to Severan, fussing over him. He let her examine him as if it was an indulgence to her. She assessed his wounds and, taking phials and syringes from her pack, injected stem cells into him with healing accelerant. She watched and muttered in satisfaction as his flesh knitted in front of her eyes. She pursed her lips. "The only trouble is, I don't have an endless supply." She reached up and patted the giant's shoulder like he was a big puppy. "Will you try to avoid getting shot please? Just for me?"
Severan brought up his human hand and mussed Torina's straight blonde hair like she was his kid brother. He had a big smile on his face.
Torina snapped irritably. "Don't, Severan!" She swiped her hair into place again.
If Severan's attention had moved on from Mehefin, hers had not moved on from him. She was still staring.
Morah idly considered her sharp black nails and sighed, "Can we hurry?"
Gaijann was cleaning blood from his boot. "You're just pissed off and jealous because you didn't get any of the action."
She looked at him. "I don't do jealousy."
"I bet."
Morah regarded him with cold indifference.
Severan said, "Enough banter. Let's move."
CHAPTER THREE: Time is short
"So why is time short?" Atorkh asked.
"You never let anything go, do you?" Gaijann wasn't mad at Atorkh, but he'd noticed the kid's obsession with detail and how he had to get the full facts every time, or he just wouldn't let things rest. Gaijann guessed it was to do with anxiety.
"I just want to know why we need to go so fast." He pulled his beard.
"Ask him," Severan jerked his thumb towards the Count without looking back or breaking his stride.
Count Owain was walking now amidst his guards, protected by them as if they thought he was a delicate plant. He heard the conversation. "Every twenty hours," he said, "this planet Anubis turns round."
"Yep, pretty standard. Planets turn," Atorkh grinned at Torina. He was like a nerdy kid who tries to be cool but flunks it.
The Count continued, ignoring Atorkh's comments, as if they were beneath contempt. "And when the planet moves, there is a tide set up inside the core. Deep down there is a black matter. Though in fact, it isn't matter, nor is it gas nor plasma or any previously known state. It wells up from the inside of the planet and fills the Library. It removes life from living structures, though it leaves the physical shell intact."
"What about the indigenous life on the planet?" Torina asked. "They must survive."
"The local life forms hibernate. They have some ability that we don't understand to hunker down and only re-emerge when the tide has turned and the black matter - the so-called inchoatus has receded."
"It comes at night?"
The Count said, "Yes."
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and glanced at the platinum star. "The sun's not long up. It was just light when we landed."
"That's why we arrived at dawn," the Count said. "To give us the most time."
"So we've got about 20 hours to get in, get what you want and then get out," Torina's brow furrowed. "I don't like that."
"I'm not paying you to like it. Just do what I tell you. I don't need you to think for yourself."
They began to move again. "What is it you want anyway? Down in the Library?" Atorkh said.
Gaijann sighed. Atorkh was going to keep prodding at this until the Count got pissed off. Himself, he didn't care. Get in. Be safe. Get out. Get paid. Maybe sleep with Morah if he was lucky. Every other question was an unnecessary complication.
"Maybe the knowledge in there is so powerful it can give us whatever we want!" Atorkh chuckled to himself. "That would be so awesome."
"Less talking, more walking," called Severan from the front.
"The Queen of Discs teaches us that it's not good for you to get what you want," Torina said. "Desire is the root of evil."
"Bullshit," Morah spat, without looking at the cleric.
The neural net came alive again. Gaijann heard Atorkh's voice in his mind. He knew that the artificial neurons merely mimicked speech but it sounded like Atorkh was talking into his ear. The youth said, "Okay, there's more Kissag. They're between us and the pyramid. Drone's still up. I'll take a look,"
Atorkh directed the small machine in the direction of the pyramid and the location of each Kissag flashed into their minds - it was like a knowing, just as you remember how a familiar town is laid out; they couldn't see the Kissag but they knew where they were.
Then Gaijann heard a real sound - a groan. He snapped his head round, realized what he was seeing, and felt his gorge rise. The groan behind subsided into raspy breathing accompanied by the scuffing sound of something dragging its feet. Morah was coming up from the kill site of the previous encounter. Walking along and in front of her, tottered the re-animated corpses of the fallen Kissag. They were scarred and burned things, their heads flopping, and their intestines hanging out, animated only by Morah's will.
Gaijann saw Mehefin put her hand to her mouth as the smell wafted up to the group. From the way her eyes widened in terror, he guessed t
his was her first time seeing revenants.
"Don't worry, princess. Morah's only playing with her toys. They won't hurt you."
Mehefin flashed the assassin an icy look. He grinned. "She'll raise you when you're dead too, though you'll be better looking."
Contempt struggled with fear in Mehefin's eyes, and contempt won. Gaijann shrugged. Truth was that Morah probably would raise the Count's lovely daughter if she died; it would suit the witch's sense of humor.
Severan nodded to Morah. "Send them forward to draw the Kissag out."
Morah smiled and ordered her zombies forward. They lumbered forward a few yards then there was a crackle of beam fire as the Kissag shot their erstwhile comrades and revealed their locations by the heat signatures of their weapons.
Then there was a loud explosion and a whoop of victory from Atorkh. "Booyah!" he yelled. "Got another!"
Severan's cold thought sliced across the net. "Did I tell you to fire?"
They felt a flash of shame. "No, boss. Sorry boss."
Gaijann felt the gut wrench of the kid's embarrassment. He broadcast nothing more, but Gaijann saw him turn to Torina who was crouched beside him and whisper. The assassin had ways of listening in with sonic enhancers in his suit, unknown to the others. He liked to keep abreast of things. The kid hissed, "So he can lose it and rush forward on a suicide charge but everyone else has to keep calm as if we were just playing pitch and put?"
The blond healer shrugged. "You know what he's like. He's a hero." She said the word without any sarcasm.
"He's a psychopath is what he is."
"No." Torina shook her head. "He's been badly damaged emotionally. He's still full of grief."
"He needs somebody to take care of him and take all the hurt away, maybe?" Atorkh snorted. Torina didn't react. Atorkh went back to his screens. His eyes widened. "More of them."
"Gaijann, prepare to go forward," Severan said.
The assassin moved, cloak on, concealed so that no one knew where he was, neither his enemies nor his friends. Even if Atorkh had wanted to track him, even with all the telemetry at his disposal, he could not.
