by Chris Fox
It was his sat-link, a device Mohn provided all senior officers. It allowed them to send and receive messages from just about anywhere in the world, regardless of cell coverage. He’d assumed the device had burned out in the second wave, but clearly he’d been mistaken. It was very much active.
He picked up the black plastic box, flipping the tiny screen open. It flickered to life, displaying a single mail icon. He touched the screen with his finger, heart beat accelerating as he waited for the contents to be displayed. The message was succinct and demanding in typical Mohn fashion.
Report situation immediately.
Chapter 21- Not Too Bright
Blair just wasn’t very bright. He had to accept that. What other possible reason could he have for invading the sanctum of a twenty-five-millennia-old werewolf goddess furious enough to shred him into very tiny Blair pieces? Yet he didn’t have a choice. Someone had to talk to the Mother, to explain both what had happened and what the team hoped to do about it. Since he’d been the one to let Irakesh get away, that responsibility fell to him.
He took a deep breath as he walked down the ramp and into the Ark’s central chamber. He expected the Mother to react instantly to his presence, blurring across the chamber to thunder her rage. The last thing he’d ever have guessed was to find her kneeling before the central obelisk, tiny hands gathered in her lap. Silver hair hung down her shoulders, head bowed. Her entire body shook, agonized sobs rolling from her.
To his surprise a golden retriever lay curled up at her feet, his wet nose pressed against her knee in a canine show of support. The Mother didn’t acknowledge the animal, but neither did she push it away. The dog looked up at Blair’s approach, thumping his tail against the marble in greeting before turning back to the Mother.
It was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her. The implacable goddess was gone, replaced by a woman overwhelmed by all that happened. It called to the compassionate side of Blair and while he knew she might kill him for witnessing such weakness, he couldn’t help what he did next.
He padded slowly across the warm marble, removing his fleece windbreaker and settling the garment around her shoulders. Then he sank down next to her and gathered her into a hug. To his shock she sobbed into his shoulder, loud wails continuing as she released her grief. It was long minutes before she finally stopped, looking up with those emerald eyes.
“I’ve failed. Every preparation foiled, every plan in ruins. All my work undone. The world lays naked before the deathless,” she said, her voice a bare whisper. She pulled the fleece tighter, shoulders slumped.
“Mother, I don’t understand. Who is Irakesh and why was he in the Ark? It sounds like he’s done something terrible,” Blair asked, choosing each word with deliberate care. He’d seen her shifts in mood and didn’t want to risk her flying into a sudden rage. Not that she could be blamed at this point.
“He is a deathless from my time, the son of my best friend and greatest adversary,” she explained, regaining a shadow of her composure. Tears had carved paths through the dust coating her face. That and her diminutive size made her seem so young. “Irakesh must have smuggled his way into the Ark before I placed it in stasis. He was in a rejuvenator in my very sanctum, yet I was unaware of his presence. When he woke, I’m sure he lurked in the shadows until he was certain I was away. Then he emerged to steal the most precious thing he could. The access key to the Ark of the Redwood.”
“Like the one I gained when I touched the hand of the past?” Blair asked, the confirmation of his suspicions like a physical blow. It confirmed the existence of other Arks, and it meant that their enemy was about to claim one.
“Just so,” she replied, with a shallow nod. She wiped a tear from her cheek and rose gracefully to her feet. “It allows the bearer complete control over the Ark they are linked to. It also allows them to draw on the strength of the Ark, regardless of distance. Your own strength will grow, once this Ark is repaired and you’ve had time to master it. Irakesh already knows how to accomplish such a feat. Even now he races for the Ark of the Redwood. If he reaches it he will have a tool of incredible power, one that will allow him to reshape the northern continent into his own empire. An empire that serves his mother, Sekhmet.”
“So I have this kind of power over your Ark?” Blair asked. The prospect was dizzying.
“You would have had the control rods not been so severely damaged,” the Mother corrected. The mask was returning, but at least she didn’t seem angry. “Until the Ark is repaired your control is limited and you will not be able to draw on the strength it contains.”
“Irakesh will have to get to this Ark of the Redwood. I’ve spoken to the others and we’re prepared to pursue him. We can stop him, Mother. We won’t allow him to take an Ark, but if we are going to succeed we have to know what he’s capable of,” Blair said, pushing the conversation towards its true intent. The Mother’s gaze weighed him, then she delivered a rare smile.
“Very well, I will allow you whelps to test yourselves against Irakesh. He is clever and his bloodline potent, but he is young and you may be able to defeat him if you demonstrate the same resourcefulness that allowed you to wake me,” she explained. The fleece jacket tumbled forgotten to the floor, revealing the same white skirt and blouse she usually wore. “I will tell you of the deathless, of their powers and how you might counter them.
“I designed the champions to have their power divided by sex. Men are able to shape both their own DNA and that of others. As an extension they can touch the minds of others,” she explained, more forthcoming than he’d ever seen her. “Women are larger and stronger. I removed their ability to shape but gifted them with a powerful resistance to such forces. This will be vital to overcoming Irakesh, for his powers are also blunted by this resistance.”
“It would be helpful to understand the nature of those powers,” Blair offered, encouraged by the half smile she wore. He wasn’t sure what he’d said or done to improve her mood, but he wasn’t about to question his luck. “What can the deathless do? Irakesh both walked the shadows and blurred. Then he hit me with a burst of light. It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.”
“Deathless absorb the light of the sun in the same way we use the moon. They channel this energy directly,” the Mother replied. “This manifests in a variety of ways. They can remove light entirely, allowing them to shadow dance. This is accomplished differently than a female champion, but the end result is nearly identical. They can also use it to alter their appearance, but it is an illusion whereas you can actually shape DNA. This light can be released in radioactive bursts, which is what Irakesh did to disable you. He cooked every part of your body at once and it took time to repair your muscles and blood vessels.”
“How does he blur?” Blair asked. The rest made sense, but it didn’t explain that power.
“The energy suffuses every part of his body, allowing it to accelerate. In this one way they are very similar to males,” the Mother answered, smearing the dust across her cheek with the back of her hand. “However, it is more taxing for a deathless to blur and they typically use it only as a last resort.”
“Are they more powerful than we are?” Blair asked, afraid he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“In some ways, yes. Their ability to shape is more versatile and better defined, and none of their powers are determined by their sex. However, they are physically weaker than champions. The average deathless is weaker than you and would be completely outmatched by a female,” she said, raising a single finger. “There is a caveat, however. Deathless gain strength by consuming the flesh of the fallen. If they consume enough they can become enormously strong. Irakesh has not lived long enough to achieve such massive strength, but other deathless you encounter may.”
“There are other deathless? How many are out there?” Blair asked.
“Only those who took shelter in a Great Ark could have survived. My own Ark was damaged, so I was unable to bring a retinue. Other Arks have two banks
of rejuvenators.”
“How many great Arks are there?”
“We don’t know. Osiris, Sekhmet and I discovered one on every continent. To my knowledge the one in the land you call Antarctica was abandoned, but the other six are all functional,” she said, face growing pained. “The Ark of the Redwood holds my daughter Jes’Ka and her servant Lucas, but many of the others may possess a full pantheon. There are also lesser places of power that may have allowed their lords to survive.”
“You speak of the Arks as though you discovered them along side the deathless,” Blair said.
Her eyes flashed, face hardening.
“That is a conversation for another time, a mistake I’d rather not revisit. For now you must concern yourself with Irakesh,” she said, good humor evaporating. “You must race him to the Ark of the Redwood and you must wrest the key from him before he can use it.”
“You’ve seen inside my memories, so you have access to global maps. Do you know where this Ark is?” Blair asked, happy to steer the conversation in another direction.
“Much has changed, including the sea level, but it is on the western coast of the northern continent. The Ark was on the shore in my time, but now rests at the bottom of a bay, one that could correspond to the city you call San Francisco,” the Mother explained, cocking her head as she considered. “It is imperative that you find Irakesh before he reaches the Ark.”
“How do we take the key from him?” he asked.
“Kill him.”
“When we pursued him just after the theft he sent a swarm of zombies to slow us down. He’s bound to try something similar. Is there anything we can do to counteract that advantage?” Blair asked.
“Had your kind not shaped the mighty wolf into compliant little servants that might have been possible,” she said, though she reached down to stroke the golden retriever at her feet in spite of her words. Perhaps her opinion was changing. “There isn’t time for you to create a pack in any case. The animals you bond must be willing and the bond takes weeks or even months to be complete. Yet the sooner you start the sooner you will have allies.”
“Bond?” Blair asked, intrigued.
“There is much Ahiga should have taught you. You can assume the form of a wolf and can strengthen wolves in your presence, making them faster, stronger and more resilient to damage. Whether this same feat will work on the twisted canine bodies your kind have created I do not know.”
“How can we track him?” Blair asked, sidestepping to a less sensitive subject.
“Because you both possess a key, you are linked, in a way. You can feel his presence and he yours. You have probably already experienced this. The closer he is, the stronger the feeling,” she answered, striding towards the chamber that held her rejuvenator. “Tell the others they are to accompany you. Leave immediately. If you fail here, it will be the final failure. The world will belong to the deathless and the champions will be extinguished.”
Chapter 22- Welcome To The Jungle
Irakesh swatted his neck, crushing the tiny insect that had alighted there. He searched the memories he’d gained from consuming brain matter. Mosquitos they were now known as. They’d been called blood drinkers in his own time, reviled by everyone. Most insects avoided the deathless, but mosquitos were more than happy to drain his blood. They were quite capable of accidentally spreading the deathless virus.
“Master,” Trevor called, voice pitched low enough that the buzz of the cicada and rushing water nearly drowned it out. He crouched low along the bank of the Amazon, pointing through the brush towards a small group of figures moving in their direction. His expression was vacant, a sure sign that it was his Risen speaking and not the man’s true consciousness. That was likely still trapped, still trying to wrest control of his own body.
Irakesh turned to study the figures, which were difficult to spot in the odd green and brown clothing. Camouflage, that’s what it was called. There were a half dozen, each carrying one of the wonderful guns he’d learned about from the officer in the House of Mohn.
Cyntia prowled the jungle behind Trevor, hair bound into a simple ponytail. The Ka-Ken wore some of the clothing they’d liberated from the last group they’d encountered. Irakesh was still digesting that lot, but it was wise to take opportunity whenever it was found. Consuming more victims would not only increase his strength, but also afford more knowledge of this new world.
He didn’t like relying on Trevor and still didn’t trust Cyntia. She was timid, but also calculating. The way she watched him was exactly the same he might have reserved for a more powerful deathless, always searching for an advantage but playing the dutiful servant until the right moment. He’d considered killing her, but had not for two reasons. It might upset Trevor, and he was just beginning to make progress with his new vassal. Also, she could have enormous potential if he could turn her fully.
Such a thing had been exceedingly rare in his own time. Even Ra had only turned a few champions, and that had required all of her considerable charms to accomplish. If he could do such a thing, it would win him much prestige in addition to a powerful ally.
“Cyntia, circle around behind them. Trevor and I will approach. When they are focused on us attack from behind. I know you find the act distasteful, but you should feed on any you kill. It will increase your strength and help you protect Trevor,” Irakesh ordered, as reasonably as possible. The first step was getting her to feed indiscriminately. It would increase her power dramatically and would teach her to love feeding. He could use that eventually.
Cyntia gave a nod, disappearing into the shadows. It bothered him that she could use something so similar to his own power, almost as much as her near immunity to his shaping. It made her dangerous, though that would be true of Trevor eventually as well. He’d already shown more independence then he should have been capable of, but also an ability to troubleshoot problems that would make him an invaluable advisor once he was properly trained. Such a dangerous dichotomy.
Irakesh marched through the jungle, stepping over ferns and around the trunks of unfamiliar trees. He made no effort to disguise his progress, allowing the nearby soldiers to see him. Trevor trailed after, slipping through the jungle with the skill of a lifelong hunter. Where had he come by that? Irakesh would need to ask when the opportunity arose.
“Hello,” Irakesh called, raising his hand in a friendly wave. The soldiers fanned out, shooting each other glances when they realized they’d been spotted. “You’re the first people we’ve seen in days. Thank god. We could use your help.”
He drew up short in a small clearing, waiting as four men and two women lined up along the edge. They looked ready to flee back into the jungle, each cradling a rifle. Most had pistols at their sides as well. Those weapons would be exceedingly useful.
“Who are you?” a beefy man asked, stepping fully into the clearing. He was bald, with a bandana tied around his forehead to block the sweat. His bearing screamed soldier, but he was too relaxed. Too sure that Irakesh was no threat because he wasn’t armed.
“My name is Irakesh. The man behind me is Trevor,” he offered, taking a step closer. It had the desired effect, all six soldiers brought their weapons to bear, ready to gun him down if he did something that displeased them. He ignored the weapons, plastering a smile on his face. “We are deathless and we are hungry. Your group will satiate that hunger. When you are dead we will take your memories and your weapons. If there are others you hold dear, we will pry their location from you and visit death upon them as well.”
It was a bit dramatic, but he’d always enjoyed such flourishes. What was the point of being deathless if you couldn’t terrify the unblooded?
The man’s jaw sagged open, eyes widening. Irakesh grinned as Cyntia materialized behind one of the soldiers, a stocky woman with a pump action shotgun. The woman shrieked, drawing the attention of most of the others.
The man who’d spoken and the other woman both had the presence of mind to fire at Irakesh. Unfortunately
for them he was no longer there. He split his focus, triggering two powers at the same time. First, he blurred behind the leader so quickly that his passage kicked up a wind that swirled some of the large green leaves littering the jungle floor.
The second was more difficult, but also more fun. Irakesh left a perfect illusion of himself standing where he’d been before blurring. Rifles cracked as the fools desperately tried to bring him down. The bullets passed right through his illusion, giving the impression that he was completely immune to their weapons.
Irakesh extended wicked black claws, like a werewolf’s but smaller and more precise. He reached around to slash the leader’s throat, seizing the man’s rifle as he fell. The memories he’d ingested didn’t tell him what type of gun it was, but he understood that if he pulled the trigger it would belch a hail of small metal balls. So he aimed the gun at the next soldier and did exactly that. The man went down in a spray of blood, body jerking from multiple impacts as the gun roared.
Trevor sprinted low across the clearing, slamming the woman on the far right into the bole of a tree. Her spine cracked, spilling her limply to the ground. Her shotgun tumbled away, caught by Trevor before it could hit the ground. He brought the stock smoothly to his shoulder, aiming at the next soldier. The man spun to face him but it was far too late.
Trevor stroked the trigger and the gun roared. The force of the blow picked the man up, hurling him back several paces. He didn’t rise. The move impressed Irakesh and not just because it demonstrated that Trevor had the skills of a warrior. Most new deathless would have fed on their first target, unable to pull themselves away to focus on the rest of combat. Trevor had done so without hesitation, quelling his instincts in favor of tactical sense. He was strong willed, perhaps too strong.
