by Vic Davis
“Imbal is the name of one of the outposts on the Pilgrim’s Road if I am not mistaken,” signaled Xodd.
Baloris picked up at the mention of Imbal. “Imbal! I must return there. I have a special treasure there. Perhaps the vessel was not completely empty. There might be one cleverly hiding within, plotting its escape. I must have one. It will soothe the hunger. The desire is too much to bear. Yes, I order you to take me to Imbal at once. I am the Endarch of War. You will do as I command.”
“Perhaps Captain, I could be of some assistance here,” offered Voor with a tone that Xodd immediately suspected was the initiation of some effort to bargain for what it wanted. What exactly that was, Xodd was not entirely sure. The Djenirian professed a commonality of goals with Xodd, but Xodd was not entirely sure what it wanted itself, other than to bring its club down on the crowns of the five Endarchs. Here was one such awaiting Xodd’s revenge. The thought was appealing.
“What exactly can you do?” signaled Xodd.
“We can bring some clarity of thought for a while: a gift of serenity.”
“A little gift, eh? The trick you played on me with my annoying parasite. I would be careful Voor. There aren’t that many of you left if what they say happened to you last time is true.”
“Your concern is touching captain, but you need not worry on my part. Something troubles the Endarch. I can sense it on the surface of its form walls: a hint of some alien essence that resembles— well something I have encountered before. The pieces of a puzzle are laid out before me, and with a little effort, some might fall into place. For example, when I first met you lying prostrate in the back of a wagon not so long ago, there was the residue of a similar pattern on you. It intrigues me.”
“I can solve your little puzzle for you, Voor,” gloated Xodd. “The residue that you encountered on my form walls was the result of consuming the informational entities that the council created or summoned with its Artifact of Plenty. I was once tasked with transporting a small sample to Timathur. It was thought that it would help make the lord there more pliable. Unlike the core nodes, Timathur was a stubborn hold out. It had resisted our manipulations and Telvar wanted to expedite the process. Somehow two very potent entities were stored within.”
Baloris perked up once again. “The artifact is in Imbal. If you take me to it, I will reward you all. I will make you generals in my armies. You will have wealth beyond you imagining. We must go now.” The Endarch hovered up into a modest energy state with a projection of form walls that almost seemed normal. It hovered toward the door in a stately manner that bespoke an innate sense of command. Then it suddenly flopped back onto the floor and began to whimper again.
“This Endarch position isn’t really that discriminating about the quality of its office holders,” quipped Block. “I wonder if I could be an Endarch now that there is a job opening.”
The joke fell flat. Xodd gave the sergeant a stern look of the transom then turned to Voor. “Do your best Voor. We need to find out more about Imbal and this artifact.” Malador seemed to shuffle in place nervously at the mention of the artifact. Xodd chuckled. “Do not worry Malador. I no longer crave that poison. But we can hurt the council by taking or destroying it.”
Voor’s lead pilgrim hovered forward to minister to the prone Baloris. “It will take but a moment.” The Djenirian laid a gentle tendril onto the Endarch’s form walls followed quickly by several others. There was a shudder and a low moan. Voor let go and did not disappear. Xodd was tempted to offer a sarcastic congratulations but then thought the better of it. “How long until it can signal coherently?”
“Not long, I should think. Ah yes. Here we are.”
Baloris seemed much improved. It raised itself slowly off the floor and struggled to take stock of its new circumstances: the dampened hunger pains, a gaggle of unfamiliar ovoids present in the room. It inspected Voor intensely. “What have you done? This is amazing. I feel no hunger, no yearning. And yet—something strange: it lurks somewhere hidden deep within my core clawing its way back up. But my transom is clear for the first time— no, for the second time. When I first gained my freedom from the oppressive weight of those evil beings, I thought myself free, but a new master claimed me. Now I am Baloris again. It has been an age. Oh, the horrors I have done.” Baloris began to sob uncontrollable; its form walls shook uncontrollably in an expression of sadness mixed with joy at its newfound freedom.
“Get a hold of yourself, Endarch. You can weep later, after you have made yourself useful,” chided Xodd mildly disgusted at the display of weakness. “What of this artifact in Imbal?”
Baloris composed itself. “Yes, when I fled the citadel, I managed to convince one of Xinitis’ fabricators to give me the lesser orb charged with several of the alien entities that they now use to fuel their cracking of the second seal. Or so I thought. Alas, I was tricked; the orb was empty, or the entities escaped.
“I underestimated how intense the hunger would grow. I came here to start to take control of the source farms that circle Urta’s Rest. But I was overcome. I do not remember much after that. Where are my guards? Where is my Overseer?”
“Decohered most likely, if they had not already fled before we arrived,” signaled Xodd.
Voor’s lead pilgrim hovered forward slightly nearly vibrating with excitement at the mention of the second seal. “How close is the solution to the second seal?”
Baloris noticed the Djenirian for the first time and a look of recognition passed over its form walls. “The wandering prophets? I know you. So very long ago you plied your sermons in the streets of the Free Cities did you not? Ah, before that cursed orb was retrieved from The Great Desolation. We thought to command its powers, but it only pretended to obey. Eventually, slowly with malign intent it seeped into us until we could not discern its will, their wills from our own.”
“How then did you escape, Endarch Baloris?” wondered Malador aloud.
“I think I know,” signaled Xodd. “You consumed one of the potent ones, didn’t you?”
Baloris laughed. “Yes, precisely so. My greed and gluttony saved me. I would regularly use my rank and office to sneak into the vats and choose a morsel here and there. Xinitis had forbidden it but I found ways to gain access. My fellow Endarchs knew of course; the imprisoned evils must have known as well for I was a slave now. Perhaps they found it amusing or somehow enjoyed the delights I tasted vicariously. My hunger was the last vestige of what I had once been before their complete domination.
“At any rate, I set about finding my feast. A fortunate opportunity presented itself; I stole a specimen from the ‘special reserves’ that were set aside for the particularly difficult sections of the orb’s seals. At the slicing of the first piece, it howled in agony: much more than was usual. I consumed the essence and felt a sublime rapture unlike anything I had ever experienced before. That is the last thing I remember before the blackness took me. When I returned, I felt as if I had emerged from a recovery state that had lasted an eternity. I wave of revulsion swept over me. The things that I had ordered done crashed upon me like an ether storm. It is true that I had been a puppet, but I my lust for power and wealth had made me a witting and willing puppet.
“Fortunately, my sense of shame was only a brief impediment and more practical matters pressed themselves upon me. I realized that I could not return to the holy of holies. Even now I thought, my masters must sense that their domination had been severed. I rounded up those inert lieutenants that I knew would be stupid enough to obey the necessarily outrageous orders I must give and made hasty preparations to flee. But not before securing more of the wonderful, delicious essences in an artifact meant to transport them. Or so I thought.”
“And how did you end up here?” asked Xodd.
“Vacillation, miscalculation, or perhaps misplaced optimism. I cannot explain my thought process since I fled Instrumentality. I toyed briefly with the idea of a suicide mission to detonate as many source-charges as I could procure in the cha
mbers with the storage vats. I decided such efforts were futile. I knew that I would not be able to get close to the orb with such weapons. The vats were locked in an array of separate vaults; Xinitis’ minions were diligent and would have prevented any mischief.
“I decided to flee to this node and— I’m still not certain what I had in mind: perhaps cause as much damage as I could or simply keep my options open. But it is hopeless. It will not end well for me. The evils within in that orb are unstoppable. You have no comprehension of the malign will that drives them, the horrors that they have perpetrated in the cause of bringing their ‘order’ to everything.
“Things will unravel quickly. I placed one of my lieutenants in charge of Urta’s Rest but news of my betrayal and troops will arrive from Instrumentality to correct that. I sent out all manner of confusing orders for the movement of units guarding Instrumentality. But that too will soon be discovered and corrected.
“There is no use in fleeing. Once the evil is released, there will be no escape. They plan to consume everything once they figure out a way to contact their allies and leave this world. The images that I have seen only the briefest glimpses of are so terrifying I could not describe them to you. I lack the symbols. I lack the fundamental concepts. I would rather have never been created than experience what they desire.” Baloris shuddered across its form walls as if it were about to enter a violent seizure but then gained control.
The Librarian flooded Xodd’s transom with a deluge of questions. Xodd mumbled angrily for it to stop. Some of the questions had merit, however. “How close are they to breaking the second seal? How many troops can they muster in this node? How many are in Urta’s rest?”
“Oh, the second seal is nearly cracked,” signaled Baloris. “The third seal is supposedly trivial, a mere formality. The architect of the prison, some hated figure from their past, was apparently sloppy with its design.”
Xodd felt the Librarian’s sputtering anger at the assertion. It passed quickly and the parasite resumed its entreaties for more information from the Endarch; Xodd was growing irritated but complied. “And what of the troops?”
“A thousand in Urta’s Rest. A few thousand sent as reinforcements. Instrumentality can muster ten thousand in its home guard. Reinforcements are trickling in from the cities of the core nodes, perhaps five thousand but their quality is poor. The anamorph clone lines have been tapped too frequently and their exhaustion is showing. The real danger is the new form they have created for the Omega: a hybrid with the controlling Alpha fused within the form walls of the host.
“My little machinations will have thrown them into confusion for a short time. Not long. We might be able to flee to the Free Cities. Privil’s Landing was cleaned out by the nomad army and then a fragment of the surviving forces of the Hegemon set themselves up there. They have penetrated into Timathur’s node and may even be on their way here. If we are careful, we might let them pass and then slip past them. I would like to see my home node in Sindari Sai one last time before the end.”
Voor seemed to be excited at the news of the approach of the remnants of the Hegemon’s Army. “It’s too late for that my friend. But perhaps all is not as lost as you think. What of this army now approaching from Timathur’s node?”
Baloris laughed. “A rag tag force of less than a thousand. Our spies reported that they have some Talents, but they will not get far. Perhaps they will try their luck here and attempt a siege of Urta’s Rest. Good luck to them. We could use them as a distraction to flee. But I would not wait around for them. The slip point into this node is well fortified and defended by over a thousand of our— I mean the council’s troops.”
“For once I agree with Voor,” signaled Xodd in a tone dripping with irony. “I desire my revenge now rather than later. An opportunity presents itself. We will march to Imbal as quickly as possible; it is the last town before Urta’s Rest on the Pilgrim’s Road. There we will recover the artifact and take Baloris to the main gate of Urta’s Rest as our prisoner. We will demand to see the governor. If it is still Baloris’s crony, then all the better. If not, we will remove their leadership and take control of the city. Then we will muster what we can from the city and advance on the slip point to Instrumentality.”
Block seemed visibly perturbed. “Begging your captain’s pardon sir, but how are we going to do that with less than two hundred soldiers. You heard the Endarch, they have a thousand in the garrison.”
“Very carefully sergeant,” replied Xodd with an amused expression on its form walls. “Very carefully indeed. Now make yourself useful and get our company organized to march. We will leave on the next quarter cycle.”
Block persisted. “What about these Hegemon troops coming down the Pilgrim’s Road. We don’t want to be in their way when they go after Urta’s Rest. We certainly don’t want to be in Urta’s Rest.”
“The enemy of my enemy is— useful but not always reliable,” pontificated Xodd. “We have no idea when or where they will show up, nor do we know what they will do. We have an opportunity to hurt the council now, if we seize it. I intend to.”
Voor seemed about to lodge some objection to the scheme but then thought the better of it. Grivil now signaled in an ominous tone: “The storm is coming. It’s unlike anything I have ever sensed before. The ether is charged with something powerful. We should make haste.”
“How long until it arrives?” asked Xodd.
“I cannot tell. This is not a normal storm. I hesitate to call it a storm. Something strange is happening.”
Xodd had had enough of Grivil and its cryptic musings. “We will leave for Imbal immediately. Make whatever precautions that you can to endure the storm. The ether here has never been that difficult. I feel that— something important is in the offing. We must make haste to Imbal and then onto Urta’s Rest.
“Sergeant Block! You have your orders. Assign an escort to Baloris here so that it does not get lost on the way. We will need its cooperation.”
Xodd hovered out of the room as Baloris launched itself into a strenuous protest. The former Endarch must now realize that it had given up its old masters only to find a new one, thought Xodd amused at the irony.
They departed on schedule; Block had done a magnificent job of organizing their decampment. They had stripped the source farming town of anything and everything that could be useful. Baloris had made a vain attempt to escape. Xodd ordered it confined to a wagon and put under constant guard; eventually the captive Endarch had grown sullen and morose; the protests stopped, and a quiet fatalism seemed to possess it.
Imbal soon loomed ahead on the horizon: a well-ordered cluster of buildings mounted on a modest incline of flow so as to command the nearby passage of the Pilgrim’s Road. Surrounding the outpost was a flow quarry and a smattering of low-yield source fountain operations that helped alleviate the need for constant supply from Urta’s Rest. Imbal’s respectable wall gave evidence that its purpose was more military than economic: a lookout and a garrison for defending the richer more productive source farming communities nearby.
They halted at the base of the incline that led up to the town; there were no troops manning the crenelations of the defensive perimeter as far as Xodd could tell. Groz was sent ahead to reconnoiter with the unique stealth abilities that the Telzra possessed.
Groz returned quickly to report. “They are practically all in a deep rest state up there. The guards have seen us and notified their commander but there is no general concern evident. It seems that the officer in charge is expecting several groups to be checking in occasionally for resupply. Apparently, they are searching for the Endarch.”
“They have not roused any troops from the garrison then?” inquired Xodd hopefully.
“No, captain. The officer in charge came over and told the gate sergeant to see to the column’s supply when it checked in.”
“Runners?”
“Nothing at the gate. I didn’t have time to search out the entire compound. It’s not teaming with e
nemies: twenty or thirty troops at the most.”
The prospects of battle cheered Xodd. “We will move at once. Groz will precede us and slip into the outpost before us, then find the Runner’s kennel and prevent any warnings from being sent. They will challenge us at the gate; no doubt we will fail a close inspection. We will then surge into the town and capture it.” Xodd did not ask for questions or clarifications; Block seemed to waiver internally, as if it might suggest some less risky alternative, but then wisely dismissed the notion.
There was little cause for worry as it turned out. The inert anamorph soldiers at the gate blithely waived Xodd’s column into the outpost without the slightest challenge: a wonderful display of insouciance that astonished Xodd. Almost half of their little army was inside before the complacent sergeant of the gate, began to suspect anything; Voor’s five pilgrims hovered by finally giving away the game. Xodd admonished itself for not putting the Djenirian into a wagon.
The gate sergeant turned its transom to its fellows to raise the alarm, but it was too late; Xodd had been waiting for the moment to strike and its club came down upon the crown of the ovoid with a decisive blow. The nearby guards were quietly dispatched by Block and a squad that had peeled off from the column to secure the gate.
“Well done,” commented Xodd with a rare tone of praise. “We will make a warrior out of you yet, Sergeant Block.”
Block grimaced. “Thank you, captain. That almost felt like cheating. How could they not recognize us for non-inerts?”
Voor had watched the entire operation dismayed by its lethality but resigned to its necessity. “You can thank Codex here. Their transoms were easily deceived.”
“Then why not just dominate them and make them part of our army?” asked Xodd. “Surely that would be more useful.”
