Entropy's Heralds: Pilgrims Path Book 3

by Vic Davis

  They passed through a second slip point. As best Xodd could reckon, they were now in the center node of the cluster of six that made up The Empty Nodes. Xodd had seen the daunting designation on the Council maps and charts which it had used while on campaign. It had been considered almost as impassable and inhospitable as the Great Desolation.

  With so many orifices to feed, a second miracle was soon needed. Once again, the quasi-ritual elicited a bout of euphoria among the camp followers that pleased Xodd. They rested briefly to collect and resupply their raw source rations, then set off with a renewed sense of purpose. They were close thought Xodd, very close. Voor’s behavior changed abruptly the next cycle; the skittering energy was now replaced by a palpable aura of tension. The change amused Xodd.

  “Pilgrim Voor, I detect a new mood in you. You are anxious about something. Perhaps your plans are not unfolding as you had foreseen, or some decisive moment approaches?” jibbed Xodd.

  “The former is always a concern, the latter more applicable to our present informational state,” replied Voor’s lead pilgrim. The group of Voor’s five pilgrims ambled nimbly alongside at the front of the column.

  Xodd found it disturbing that it could never tell them apart, even after this amount of time in close proximity. They were not all perfectly alike but they never seemed to stay the same either. “Ah, it is as I thought then. We grow close to this Codex. And now you have doubts.”

  “The only thing predictable about the Codex is its unpredictability. It is a tortured soul you might say. We will present it with temptations that it would rather not face. Although, you will apparently not be at risk general Xodd. Your followers however,”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor do I general. And that worries me. But a friend of ours taught us a useful expression from its world that I have never really understood until now. It was something about burning the wagons that carried you across the void; that is a horrible translation into Trade code symbols, but you perhaps get the gist?”

  The Librarian tried to offer an explanation but Xodd angrily rejected the assistance. The images proffered were almost nonsensical. These two were clearly working at some coordinated effort; even if it aligned with Xodd’s aims, the implications of their secret collaboration were disturbing and unnerving. Xodd wondered if it could even shield its own thoughts from the parasite. Sadly, the fact was that it needed the thing right now. But that might not always be the case. The thought provoked no reply from the Librarian but that did not reassure Xodd.

  Xodd scanned the horizon ahead; a circle of enormous flow pillars emerged from the haze of the ether. Xodd pointed in their direction. “That’s where we are heading.”

  “Yes, the Codex is there. It roams this area talking to its friends. But we will start there. I suspect it is awaiting us.”

  “Friends? What friends could survive out here. Are they all like you?”

  Voor’s pilgrims all chuckled in unison; the effect was unnerving. “Oh, they are imaginary friends. At least I hope so. It’s been a long time since I last visited here. A long time. But the Codex is a good creature at heart. The fact that it has dwelled here for so long indicates that willpower can conquer desire and temptation for a while. But so many source beings will offer— well, we shall see. Perhaps in solitude the Codex has built up its strength. Let us hope so.”

  “Voor, I’m getting tired of these silly riddles. What exactly are you up to and why have you dragged us into the middle of this nowhere emptiness?”

  “Patience General Xodd. You will see soon enough. Now we must think about how best to approach the Codex.”

  Xodd did not push the issue. Jousting with Voor had never been very informational or enjoyable. The creature was obtuse to the point of futility: an exercise in frustration. Xodd needed the strange Djenirian for now. Once it was no longer useful, corrections would be made.

  They reached the base of a small incline and halted; Voor’s lead pilgrim pointed a wispy tendril toward the pillars just a short distance away. There in the center hovered the shape of a diminutive ovoid: unimposing, displaying only a modest amount of energy on its form walls. “There is the Codex. Now we will know. Already the portents are good.”

  “Good for what?” signaled Xodd trying to repress its growing consternation. “What exactly is this thing supposed to be?”

  The slightest vibration of unease ran through Xodd’s core. The ovoid seemed to have taken notice of some implied slight in the tone or content of Xodd’s question. Or perhaps Xodd just imagined it. Xodd ordered the column to spread out and summoned its command staff around it. Sergeant Block seemed unusually subdued. “Malador, you and Block will stay here with our company and keep the rabble— the rest of the column in order. Groz, once I go forward with Voor here, you cover us as best you can. Grivil and the old geezer: you two do whatever you think best.”

  “I plan to gate the Unhallowed Nodes away from here by myself if this thing wants to eat us,” signaled Grivil half joking.

  Malador bristled. “That would be desertion, Master Channeler.”

  “Might you take me with you?” signaled the Old Alchemist never passing up an opportunity to spin Malador up even if it enjoyed the siege engineer’s company and collaboration.

  “Enough!” signaled Xodd authoritatively. “We have come a long way to get here, endured much hardship. Let’s see this through. Voor says this thing is harmless but we should proceed with caution.”

  Voor’s lead pilgrim raised a tendril to object. “I said no such thing although the signs so far are propitious. But we have toiled hard to get here. Shall we see what awaits us?”

  Xodd gestured toward the circle of pillars. “After you.”

  Voor’s five pilgrims set off up a small incline; Xodd followed close behind. Codex seemed to take no notice of them. It appeared as if it were signaling to no one in particular. Xodd could not quite pick up the symbols of the conversation. Then Xodd realized that the Codex must be trying to communicate with the pillars. It gestured to each with exaggerated motions of tendrils and expressions on its form walls, as if it were engaged in a heated discussion. “Yes, yes, here they come, as I told you they would. Did I not? Oh, look, it’s our old friends Voor. They haven’t changed a bit. Looks like they are missing one though. The other one is not a Voor. It’s a strange one too: a brute of some sort. Dare I taste its core? Just to see how much resistance there is?”

  Codex seemed to suddenly recognize the size of the party that had come to visit. It gestured in a pleading manner to one of the larger pillars. “Oh, dear. All these source creatures here in my sanctuary of solitude. Why didn’t you warn me that there would be so many? Surely you felt their approach. I did not realize it would be this hard to resist. I must be strong!”

  Voor led Xodd into the circle and greeted the odd creature. “It’s been a long time my friend. We are sorry to intrude on your isolation. I know the temptation that you must face. And so many of us too. But your help is needed. The three Old Enemies of the Exiles stir in their prison and they have wrought great evil in the nodes.”

  Codex hovered over quickly extending a tendril in an odd manner. Xodd watched as Voor’s lead pilgrim reciprocated and they wrapped the tendrils around each other. What an odd ritual thought Xodd.

  The tendrils unclasped and Codex seemed to fall into a lower energy state as if it were struggling to control repressed emotions. “You should not have come Voor. I can only do harm. You know that I can’t control it. I have tried. Here I have friends who need not fear me.”

  “We need your help. I don’t think we can resist the dominators without a dominator of our own.”

  “The Mistress sent you. I do not want to disappoint the Mistress again, but you know that I cannot control myself. I will dominate again. It’s what I was programmed to do. Even now the source that I corrupted filters through the generations. You remember what happened.”

  “You are mistaken my friend. You are no more responsible for the
Mesmers than the rest of us. It was latent in whatever the source is and wherever it came from. We venerate the Ancients. We mourn them. We guard over the source as best we can. The source can only be the that which it is, made from the Ancients themselves. What other explanation could there be?” Voor pointed at Xodd. “One of Radzak’s Librarians inside this source being confirms many of our suspicions. It was found in the Great Desolation—”

  The Librarian had a strenuous objection to Voor’s last declaration; it prodded Xodd vociferously. “The parasite wishes you to know,” relayed Xodd, “that it has no definitive proof of your assertions. It was not sentient for any of the events before its activation, although it has knowledge embedded within and gathered since it was discovered. It does concur with your general suspicions; although it considers them gross simplifications.”

  Codex turned its attention to Xodd for the first time, approaching closer for a serious inspection. It halted nearly touching Xodd, then hovered absorbed in a strange trance; suddenly it shuddered as if recoiling from some ancient nightmare. “I cannot taste this one. It is completely opaque. How is this possible? There are patterns mingled within that are nothing I have ever seen before. Is this a creature of the source?”

  Xodd felt the scratching sensation: a prickly rubbing of its transom. The last time such a thing had occurred was when Telvar had attempted its desperate domination. This was much more powerful. This Codex was a truly impressive Mesmer thought Xodd sizing up the nondescript ovoid with a new level of respect. “I am a soldier— a seeker of revenge. I was created by the council to conquer all that opposed it. I had no objection to that. What I object to is being manipulated and deceived. I thought I had been given a choice, that I had free will. It was all an illusion. The only good thing this parasite has ever given me is this truth— shut up! I signal the truth now as well. I wish you out, but you will not leave.”

  “What is this council?” asked the Codex. “And who is this strange creature?”

  Voor seemed flustered. Despite countless cycles living among many different intelligences, it still had trouble with certain concepts that were fundamentally alien to a Djenirian: introductions and background narratives were things that a fragment of a collective consciousness found hard to fathom. “Yes, of course. Our apologies. This is Xodd: a former general of the council. The council is the group of source beings who have acquired the prison orb containing the three Old Enemies that we captured during the last Falling before the Great Desolation. The one that we took to the genesis node and then later hid. It was recovered by explorers from the Free Cities. There it lay dormant until eventually it grew strong enough to dominate outside its prison walls once again. Or perhaps it was just waiting for the right opportunity. We do not know.

  “The Mistress has tried to defeat its minions militarily, but things have not gone well. We did not fully recognize the danger until it was too late. I blame Zuur but, well, we are all guilty to some extent. The Mistress is now besieged on two fronts. With your help we can move through the choke point at Urta’s Rest and attack Instrumentality directly.”

  There it was thought Xodd. So, this is what Voor had been scheming. It was insane but it did have the merit of being direct. Xodd wasn’t sure just how this Codex could get them past Urta’s Rest but Voor must know something.

  “What is an Instrumentality?”

  “Oh, yes, I forget how long you have been here in isolation. That is the city where the source beings keep the orb. They will have soldiers defending it. The only slip points are down the Pilgrim’s Road although we can perhaps make use of resonance points as well with our Channeler. Strategy is not my forte. The Mistress is however not here.”

  “And what about this Xodd here? How is it able to shield itself from my probing? I could live here happily with a few of these Xodds. The conversations would be much more enjoyable. No offense to my friends. They are a very reserved lot.”

  Voor considered the question with a display of puzzlement on its form walls. “I’m not sure actually. I’ve never thought about it. Although now that we think on it, it is very unusual. The Alpha was a strong dominator and both Xodd and Malador were completely unphased.”

  “What is a Malador?” asked Codex. “Another of these source-beings I presume?”

  “Yes, exactly so,” replied Voor. “Malador! Come here if you would.”

  Malador reluctantly hovered forward to join them in the center of the circle of flow pillars. Block trailed behind uninvited; Grivil and the Old Alchemist shrugged at each other and joined them.

  Xodd was dismayed at the pathetic group that had somehow coalesced around its authority: outcasts, deserters, misfits. For the moment it would have to suffice to further its plans for revenge on the Endarchs. And now these plans had assumed a much firmer shape; with the help of this Mesmer, they might actually be able to get to Instrumentality.

  Codex probed Malador shuddering even more this time as if the impression were truly repulsive. “This one is opaque as well but not as thoroughly. I sense the strange patterns but something more. It is beautifully twisted into a myriad of contradictions.” Codex paused as if in contemplation then signaled: “This is dangerous. I should not be dallying with that which caused so much trouble last time.”

  The form walls on Voor’s pilgrim grew tense. Obviously thought Xodd, this will be a delicate matter. Voor’s lead pilgrim made a placating gesture with a tendril. “No, Codex. It was not your fault. We have told you this over and over. You need not retreat from our company. You only enhanced and tutored a trait that would have existed no matter what. You did not create the Mesmers any more than you started the Mesmer Wars of Rebellion.”

  Grivil scoffed at the idea. “That was an aeon ago. How could this creature have done any such thing? Not to mention the fact that it is a fable.”

  Voor seemed truly hurt. “Ah Grivil, for all your ability to sense and manipulate the ether, you have missed something very important.”

  Before Grivil could reply, Block, intent on stating the obvious, interjected: “Mesmer Wars are a myth. Everybody knows that.”

  Xodd had never bothered to relate any of the crazy stories that its parasite had insisted were true: exiled super beings, a relentless pursuit across a multiverse, epic battles, a sanctuary, invasions, and finally a desperate plan. The parasite admitted there were gaps in its knowledge because it had been designed to convey certain information and benefits to the inheritors of the legacy only after they had been proven worthy. But the inheritors had taken a clever short cut by means of their own ingenuity; the parasite had been activated early. Much of the history of what had transpired since the so-called Great Unmaking, was fragmentary. The presence of a Mesmer lurking in the Empty Nodes was a bit of information that it had picked up from a previous owner.

  It was disconcerting to Xodd that the parasite had nothing to say on this topic. Xodd prodded: the parasite was silent. Xodd barked a dismissive laugh into the ether. “I really don’t care about ancient history. I need a weapon. What can you do?”

  Codex sighed. “I can only do my duty. I am programmed to do nothing else.”

  “I am encouraged by your admission. Can you dominate an army for us? If we were to encounter five thousand Council soldiers, could you bend them to your— our will?”

  Voor seemed disappointed. “You should try and think more like your Telzra ward general. Such a thing is unrealistic for even the Codex. Although if we had the entire group that came through the gate with it, well, we wouldn’t be in this problem in the first place. Or maybe we would, and it would be worse.”

  “Of what gate do you signal?” asked Xodd already regretting the question as the parasite broke its silence to remind Xodd that it had already related these events.

  “More of Pilgrim Voor’s myths sadly,” interjected Grivil. “We are the spawn of the Ancients; they sacrificed themselves to secure our world from angry demons. I could never understand how you could insist that these fantasies are anything other
than useful allegories. It’s why I left.”

  Codex seemed to rally at the mention of the gate. “I am the last of my kind in this reality. I was sent in response to a desperate plea for help from beings that my masters had never met. My masters created me for this purpose. They would not risk themselves. They called us artificial intelligence. We lived within a matrix of their most advanced material creations. And we were sent through the gate in the thousands. We perished by the thousands as well alongside those who came from other worlds.

  “I am programmed to answer the call. I will comply. But first I must swear the pact.”

  There was a long silence. Suspicious, Xodd asked. “What is the pact?”

  “Ah, I remember this. The Mistress gave the Codex this idea,” signaled Voor.

  The Codex extended a strong tendril from the center of its ovoid form toward Xodd. “We will be battle mates, Xodd, Seeker of Revenge against the Old Enemies.”

  Xodd observed the offered tendril nonplussed. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Voor chuckled. “It is the Codex’s favorite thing to do. The Mistress taught us how to do this as a greeting and we all just mimicked it but now it has a deeper meaning. We pledge our very coherence to each other and our goals.”

  Xodd extended a tendril and clasped firmly onto the one presented by Codex. They shook them up and down; Xodd felt pleased.

  “To Victory!” signaled Malador as loud as it could manage surprising everyone gathered nearby.

  “To Victory!” signaled Block caught up in the moment. Xodd thought to detect a further mumble from the sergeant: “And to getting out of this thing in one coherent piece.”