The Alien Library: Space Mercenaries # 5 (Wolf Cyborg)

by Galen Wolf

  Zaaal turned to Pta'h. "That has a ring of truth. We have lost contact with the other squads in here. Because of this place. They could have killed him."

  Pta'h nodded. "Yes. And if the Professor wouldn't tell us his mission, he wouldn't tell them. You know, boy," he said, "the Professor wanted us to kill you on the way back. He didn't want to have to pay two groups of bodyguards, I suppose."

  "Shall I release him?" said Zaaal.

  "Only if the boy is ready to fight." Pta'h grinned. He looked at Atorkh. "Are you ready, boy?"

  Atorkh nodded his head. Blood and snot were dripping from his nose.

  "You fuckers," Torina cursed them.

  Then Zaaal unlocked the graphene loop that bound Atorkh's hands behind his back. Atorkh stood there, rubbing his wrists to bring circulation to them. Then he wiped the thick smears of coagulated blood from his face and mouth.

  "Ready?" said Zaaal again.

  Torina looked at the lizard. It was about six feet tall and heavily muscled. It had human hands but a savage jaw filled with reptilian teeth. Its green eyes gleamed in its huge head and its tongue flickered as it waited for Atorkh. The Kissag had formed a circle for Atorkh and Zaaal to fight in. Two of the soldiers still gripped Torina tight.

  Atorkh held back. He held his hands up like a boxer - Torina guessed he had seen this in his movie collection. It didn't look like he had any real experience of street fighting. Zaaal stepped towards him, and Atorkh went back. Zaaal feinted and Atorkh flinched away. The fear showed in his eyes. The fight was so unfair. Torina felt rage and sorrow in her chest. Atorkh bravely tried a jab but the lizard dodged. He stepped back, drawing Atorkh forward and as Atorkh on came too far, the lizard's fist smashed into his forehead. The boy groaned and fell back, blood spurting from his eyebrow. He looked dazed but he didn't fall.

  Zaaal watched him, drawing out the fight and Atorkh's torture. Torina pulled at her bonds but graphene and Kissag hands held her fast. If she could get to her suit's controls, she could send some healing. Atorkh stood there, not trying to attack now. Zaaal appeared to grow bored. He went forward and almost playfully slapped Atorkh's face. He was mocking him. He slapped him again. Atorkh tried to dodge, but Zaaal caught him with another two blows. Then the lizard hardened his fist. He went forward and punched Atorkh hard. The boy sagged. The lizard hit him again, then again. Zaaal unleashed a flurry of blows, each one connecting like a hammer.

  Atorkh was beyond fighting - he put his hands up to his head to protect himself, but the lizard didn't stop. He hit Atorkh again, and Atorkh slumped to one knee. The youth's face was a mire of blood. Zaaal smashed him again, and Atorkh went down to both knees. He kneeled there with his hands protecting what was left of his bloodied face. Then Zaaal drew back his foot and kicked Atorkh with his full strength. Torina heard the snap of bone as Atorkh fell, head lolling and then with a heavy bang, his head hit the rock. The boy lay there moaning, his eyes fluttering with the whites showing. Then he began to convulse in a seizure and Torina knew his brain was damaged.

  "Let me help him!" she yelled.

  Zaaal turned toward her, wiping Atorkh's blood from his knuckles. "No," he said simply.

  "We wouldn't have let you go anyway," said Pta'h, almost apologetically.

  Then Zaaal went over and crouching down put his hands on the sides of Atorkh's head as the boy lay dying. The lizard leaned down and opened his jaws. With one bite he crunched open Atorkh's skull. Torina saw her friend die for her there in that cavern. Hot tears flooded her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but she remained silent: she would not give the Kissag the pleasure of hearing her cry.

  Pta'h turned to Torina. "Tie her down on the rock and strip her."

  "We'll need to unlock her hands first," said one of the soldiers.

  "No," said Pta'h. "Put her face down."

  The soldiers grabbed Torina by her short blonde hair and dragged her over to a rock. She could feel their excitement as they anticipated what they were about to do. As she lay there, her mind went calm. She guessed they would do it by order of seniority, Pta'h first, then Zaaal and then some corporal before all the grunts got their share.

  Then she heard a commotion behind her. The lizards dragging her stopped and the one holding her head let go. She stood and turned. Their attention was suddenly taken by something coming from behind them. She half turned, half hoping it was Severan coming to save her, but instead saw an advancing flood of quicksilver. The river had broken its banks and was deluging the corridor. She jerked herself free of the hands of her captors. The first ones were already being consumed by the liquid mercury. It was transforming them, freezing them and running into their veins. They struck strange solid poses like sudden statues, and then flowers began to grow from their hands and their eyes - weird alien flowers with curling tendrils and orchid lips. She heard the lizards screaming. There was total chaos. She thought she heard Pta'h barking orders, but none of his men were listening. Their fear overcame them and they ran from that mysterious flood.

  Torina ran with them.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Morah considers murder

  After they crossed the silver river, Morah and the Count walked side by side in silence. Her step was light, his heavier. Some sounds, impossible to make out, came from behind. Morah turned to watch him. His head was down, then he said, "A pity."

  "What?"

  "I'm afraid they will probably die," said the Count. "The two we left behind."

  "I hope so."

  "You are not merciful."

  She smiled, showing her sharpened teeth. "No, that's not me." Then a pause. "Tell me...?"

  He ignored the question.

  She noted that but continued, "...what is it we're here to find?"

  "It's not far now."

  "That's not what I asked."

  "You'll see."

  "Why be so secretive? There's only you and me left."

  "And Mehefin."

  "Perhaps. Only us here though." Then she stopped. Ahead was another shaft. It was as deep as the first. They stood at the edge.

  She checked the time. "It's nearly night outside. We don't have enough time to get out before the darkness wells up in here."

  "Things will be different when I have what I seek."

  Morah raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I hope you're not planning for me to die too."

  He shook his head.

  She licked her teeth. "Good, let's go down the quick way." She looked at the Count's soft white hands then shrugged. With a smile, she cut her palms with her metal nails and produced a line of blood. She spoke into the dark, the words winnowing on the still air. Some fell to earth; some glowed like fireflies in her mind but the Belphegor came. From nowhere and somewhere it appeared with the stink of hell wrapped around it. It saw Morah, snarled and bared its teeth. The Count put his hand to his nose because of the Belphegor's fetid breath. The demon's small eyes, yellow with a wicked intelligence, regarded him. Another man for me to devour? Its voice imprinted itself on Morah's mind.

  Via the bond of blood that bound them, the witch sent the thought: no.

  It looked askance then at its mistress who said aloud, "Take us both and fly us down."

  The Count backed away as the Belphegor extended its clawed hand. His eye twitched.

  "It won't harm you," Morah said.

  "This is the same one?"

  She shook her head. "There are many of them. We might even say: they are legion." She smiled.

  The Count missed her joke. "Is it strong enough to take us both?"

  "Yes. Be brave."

  The Count moved a little closer to the demon. It unfolded its scaly hands and offered them to him. The tic in his eye grew worse, and then he took a step closer to let the Belphegor take him. It folded him to its chest and when he was clutched there, sweat running down his white face, it took Morah.

  Without warning, it ran and jumped off the side of the shaft. Immediately, it fell head first. Morah looked at the Count and whose eyes were closed and mouth clamped.
A smile played across her lips and she reached and stroked his sweaty forehead as if he were a favorite kitten. Then, like a parachute opening, the Belphegor unfurled its leather wings and the descent halted with a jerk.

  The rushing air ceased and the Count's eyes snapped wide open. He gulped again and Morah smirked. Gentle as thistledown, the Belphegor flapped its way to the bottom of the shaft and deposited them on the rough stone floor.

  The tunnel here was cruder as if, the closer they got to the heart of the Library, the less care the builders had taken. Owain dusted himself off, though he wasn't dusty. He ran his hand through his hair and then put both hands behind his back as if to avoid Morah noticing how badly they were shaking.

  "I could get him to kill you down here," she whispered.

  He straightened up. Looking at her, he stammered, "Then you wouldn't get paid. I'm your employer." The twitch in his right eye was particularly bad.

  Morah examined her cruel fingernails theatrically. "I've killed my employers before."

  His eyes widened in alarm but he set his mouth in a thin line.

  She watched his Adam's apple bounce up and down in his narrow throat. "I can pay you more," he said finally.

  "I'm not interested in the money. At least not primarily."

  The Belphegor shifted behind her. The pupils of its yellow eyes fixed on the Count.

  "Then what?"

  "I want to know what it is that has drawn you down here?"

  He cleared his throat. "It's a kind of knowledge."

  "That figures," she said sardonically, "this is a Library. Expand."

  "It's a knowledge of transformation."

  "And that means?"

  He stepped back. "I don't want to tell you."

  The Belphegor shifted forward, opening its jaws. Telepathically it said, now?

  Morah raised her hand and it stopped.

  The Count's voice shook a little. "You have to trust me. Only I have the knowledge to speak to the Guardian. I have been in touch with the Guardian, even before we came here. Time and distance are no barrier."

  "Why don't I kill you and take whatever the Guardian has promised you for myself?"

  "It won't speak to you. It will kill you if I'm not there. So you can't betray me."

  "Hmm," Morah said. "You may be lying."

  "Or I may not."

  Sounding more confident, he said, "Come Morah. Let us find the Room of Dissolution. It is close."

  There was a feeling. Someone was coming. The Belphegor noticed it first. It raised its snout into the air and sniffed. Morah turned. "What?"

  The Belphegor spoke in her mind, Creatures of Law come.

  It lifted up into the air, hovering about six feet from the ground. There, it said.

  Ahead of them was a flood of silver. It approached like a rising wave over the floor. The first ripples entered the chamber at the bottom of the shaft. It washed in waves, each one coming closer. Behind, the flow built - liquid mercury that Morah knew would transform any living thing it touched. She backed up towards a stone staircase that led who knew where. She watched the silver tide run into the chamber, about an inch deep. The Count stood motionless, the mercury lapping around the soles of his boots. He turned to look at her where she stood on the third step up, out of the reach of the metal. She expected him to come back, asking for the Belphegor to help fly him over the oncoming flood. Instead he took his chances and ran down the corridor, splashing through the living metal.

  Morah looked up at the hovering Belphegor. "Lift me," she said.

  The demon picked her up. Where? it asked.

  "After Mr. Squishy boots."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: Drowning in the Sea of Love

  As he plummeted through a cloud of neon gas towards a sea of mercury, Gaijann prayed to Lady Luck. "Thanks for the life," he said, "but if you could fix it for me to survive this, I will make a very big offering at your shrine. I mean really big."

  Below him Mehefin cartwheeled through the air. Above them both, standing at the edge, Severan gazed down as they fell. Gaijann saw his boss's face receding. Then the giant jumped.

  "That's just like him," Gaijann said out loud.

  Near the bottom Gaijann saw Mehefin fade and phase out, as if her outlines were being eaten by the Library around them. He felt himself also becoming luminous and half empty. And as his mind was digested, he entered the Library's mind. He saw that it was like a lung: by day it breathed out complexity, by night it breathed in dissolution. Each cycle of the planet saw the Library create its creatures of mercury; knitting molecules and weaving lives, because the creatures of silver were truly alive: he saw that now. And then, when the planet turned to darkness, the black inchoatus flooded its shafts and chambers and everything the day had made, it undid, returning complex life to simple chaos.

  Yes, the Library was alive: it drew life forms to it, using its knowledge as bait, and then it ingested them as a Venus Flytrap does a midge; taking their knowledge and adding it to the sticky honey that drew more visitors. Gaijann realized the Anubisites had not simply died; their Library had eaten them.

  Gaijann fell through space, aware now of the great trick that had been played on them, and, before he hit the sea of mercury, Gaijann decided he was going to live.

  He hit the liquid metal like a falling sun, breaking its surface tension and driving under. As he went beneath the quicksilver's skin, Gaijann glanced up and saw Severan falling down after them. Something slowed the giant too, just as it had slowed Gaijann and Mehefin - the impact with the metal would not be fatal.

  Then Gaijann was under. The metal he was drowning in was not the physical element Mercury, chemical symbol Hg; it was the Library's mind. He was immersed in its thoughts and its -to all practical purposes- limitless knowledge. Gaijann's head filled with things he never wanted to know about, they spilled into his brain and threatened to drive out the knowledge of who he was. He was in danger of becoming just another part of the Library.

  Gaijann opened his eyes to find they were full of silver and he could see nothing. He floated like an unborn child in the cold fluid of the pool, and slowly he began to unravel and melt into the dreaming mind that surrounded him. His thoughts trailed off into reverie.

  And then he felt someone touch him. A man's hand seized his. It was Severan; drowning in the metal like he was himself. Gaijann felt strangely calm. So this was to be their end - dissolved to become no more than a ribbon of data in the eternal mind. And as a man who falls asleep - and perhaps also man who is dying - begins to forget himself, surrendering his self-knowledge to the bizarre images that come from the void, Gaijann tumbled towards dissolution.

  A final lightning flash of his own personal thought struck. With a spark of his remaining individuality, he realized the Library - which knew everything - must know how to reverse this melting. The assassin reached and searched among the oceanic data flows and he saw the knowledge he needed from afar. It was a long way into the Library's mind, but he physically and mentally struggled towards it. He pulled Severan with him. He saw the maps and schemes of the library tunnels, how they changed and moved as the Library slumbered like vessels of white lymph or red blood. There was a ledge at the edge of the lake, and some dry land. He knew it.

  He knew the way to go. He struck out swimming towards the steps at the far end of the room they had fallen into. One arm made strokes, the other wrapped around his friend's hand. Then mouth half full of quicksilver, threatening to enter his lungs, he panicked. Severan was deeper than him. He had to save them. He made frantic splashes that wasted energy, but moved him inches and feet towards the pool's edge. His arms were weak - one dragged his friend, the other dragged at the metal. His face went under again. It would be easier to give in. But the solution beckoned him. The heavy metal weighed him down. The library entered into his thoughts, seducing him. He slowed. His eyes closed. His face went into the mercury. He drifted.

  Then he felt the floor below his toes. Hope rushed back to him. He spat the stuff clear
of his lips. He hadn't ingested any. He stood. His shoulders were clear. He still had a grip on Severan's human wrist. Then he was wading waist deep. He dragged Severan with him. He pulled the giant towards the steps and when they reached the higher ground, he lifted him Severan out. Mercury ran from Severan's mouth, like water from the lungs of a drowned swimmer. Gaijann was not wholly himself, but Severan's soul was at least half melted into that of the Library.

  He stood, rubbing the quicksilver from his eyes. He squeezed it out of his hair and he blew it out of his nose. He had been inoculated against heavy metals when he joined the Army a long time ago. Mercury, lead and cadmium couldn't kill him. If this quicksilver was even the same kind as normal mercury. Maybe it wasn't even poisonous?

  The library still buzzed inside his mind. He squatted and bowed his head. Still Severan slept beside him, his human eye closed, and his robot eye clicking and focusing as the giant dreamed. Severan's cyborg hand was open and motionless. Gaijann could see that the hand he had pulled his friend out of the lake of silver with was his hurt one and that his pulling had made it worse. If Torina were there she could heal it, but she was long gone.

  Gaijann tried the team's neural net comms channel. He didn't believe it would work but it was worth a try. He picked up weak signals from Severan who lay beside him, but nothing from anyone else. That was better than nothing, previously the net had been wholly dead.

  And then he remembered Mehefin. He looked back over the silver lake. The young woman was about twenty yards out, floating face down. Gaijann glanced at Severan. It would be better if Mehefin died. Severan thought she was his Oriel reborn, but Gaijann knew she was a treacherous bitch. Severan thought that with Mehefin he would get a second chance at happiness, but Gaijann knew she would break his heart. The assassin sighed. Severan stirred in sleep. He needed something to bring back his wandering soul. The assassin spat a residue of metal.

  Severan had wanted to die until he met Mehefin. And Gaijann knew now that in order to bring back Severan, he would have to give the giant a reason to live. Wrong as it was, Gaijann had to save Mehefin to save his friend. Gaijann's heart was heavy in his chest as he waded back into the lake and began to swim to her.