Raus followed Jav down a series of lightly travelled dim corridors and into a small personnel jump deck. Even as Jav ushered him off the deck, Raus protested, insisting they’d gone nowhere, but the corridor they found themselves in silenced him. Though it looked like all the other corridors he’d walked, it wasn’t the one from which he’d entered the jump deck. He looked about awkwardly as Jav led him further. They reached a set of pressure doors that opened to a room which was half-balcony, looking over Sarsa from a height that stopped the breath in Raus’s chest. Down through clouds he could see the small spike that was Kapler Tower, the extent of the Black Fields, and the tight rows of tall, straight, dark green trees that grew in the slowly failing soil beyond, looking almost like moss upon the low range that hemmed in the land settled by his ancestors. Beyond that, he could see the black, desolate sea, and farther still, the white glow of the ice floes that forever marked the north.
“Your first viewing of your own world from such a height?”
Raus whirled about in response to the voice, but Jav turned easily and said with a slight bow, “Minister of Affairs, Witchlan.”
Raus turned to Jav, acknowledging the import of his words, and turned back to Witchlan to whom he bowed.
“You may rise and you may speak, Mr. Kapler,” Witchlan said. He was all in russet and brown, his robes looking something like a cross between velvet and leather—they didn’t look like clothes so much as a part of him. His cap—or was it his head?—rose to a point and ended in a reed-like taper that coiled into a jaunty curl. His face was a dark patchwork that maintained a strict symmetry. His mouth was a vertical slit among many that brought to mind the under gills of mushrooms.
Kapler rose. “Yes, it is,” he said.
Witchlan had been standing near the doors when Jav and Raus entered. They had walked right past him without noticing, which was understandable since the only light here came from outside and even though they were closer to the sun than Raus had ever been, that light was still weak and would now fail more noticeably every day as the Vine drank it, consuming it physically.
“Are you impressed, Mr. Kapler?”
“I am.”
“Good. That will be our first step towards trusted service.”
“Thank you. . . Minister,” Kapler said, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.
“Specialist Holson has also vouched for you, which is sufficient. While you have given us no cause to mistrust you, as a matter of course I must inform you that the Artifact you are about to receive is your proof and your badge of office, making you an elite Shade of the Viscain Empire. Acceptance of this badge of office means that all previous titles are forfeit, all previous pledges of loyalty are either invalidated or superseded. Should you demonstrate that you have negotiated in bad faith, please be advised that we have the right and military capacity to forcibly remove the badge of office from your person, which will result in your death—in addition to being mortal, Artifact removal is excruciatingly painful, I’m told, and messy. Please also remember that you have placed your younger sibling, one Ban Kapler, in our care and that his life shall also be forfeit should you renege on any of these or other established terms.
“Do you understand, Mr. Kapler?”
“Yes, Minister,” Raus said.
“Do you agree to these and all other terms put forth?”
“I do, Minister.”
“Good.”
Raus sucked in his breath when the image of the Emperor, pale and fleshy, appeared before them suspended above and just beyond the balcony’s edge. Raus had been told what to expect and thought he would be prepared after having seen the Vine up close, but the face before him, huge with its carved eyes and mouth and the way those features seemed to move and change with the dancing firelight behind gave Raus the first chill of his long adult life.
“Raus Kapler,” the Emperor’s wheeze of a voice boomed, “I have witnessed your pledge and judge you to be true to your word. Step forth, accept these, the Resurrection Bolts, and be transformed.”
Raus stepped forward and held out his hands, fumbling to catch the two gleaming metal studs that appeared in the air before him. They were what the Emperor had said—bolts—but their size was such that Raus needed a hand for each. They were shiny, silvery steel, topped with thick square heads, and tooled with sharp threads that threatened to draw blood. Raus held them, not quite sure what to do with them for a moment. Then, raising them to either side of his neck, he said, “Yes, Lord Emperor,” and touched the tips to the skin there. Light filled the cup of the balcony as the Bolts were accepted into Raus’s body, becoming one with him.
Raus looked at his hands. The color of his skin had changed to a translucent gray, revealing the sickly greenish tinge of the flesh beneath. He narrowed his eyes and went Dark. He instantly grew in size by nearly a half, and a row of silvery steel bolts, smaller copies of the Resurrection Bolts, rose up along the back of each arm and down the length of his spine. He pulled his tattered shirt off and reexamined his hands and his arms now as well. The pale green under his skin was more pronounced, but his arms had grown even thicker with muscle. He tentatively touched the Resurrection Bolts, which now jutted twenty centimeters out from either side of the trunk of his neck.
“How do you feel, Mr. Kapler?” Witchlan asked.
“Stronger,” was all Raus could think to say.
“Just so,” the Emperor said. “You are now one of my shadows, Raus Kapler, bearing the weight and authority of the Empire. Congratulations.
“Your power is like Specialist Holson’s. The Resurrection Bolts enable you to raise an army of the dead to do your bidding. You command the flesh, where Specialist Holson commands bone. Unlike Specialist Holson’s skeletons, your corpses are able to transmit your power through an infectious bite to those mortally wounded. When closer to the ground, you will be able to sense the presence of raw materials.
“There is more, but everyone takes to his or her Artifact according to the match—there is always some luck involved, good or bad, producing results that are exceptional or merely good. You will have the next ten days to explore the limits of the Resurrection Bolts and the relative success or failure of the match. I will leave you to Minister Witchlan, who will explain your post and immediate assignment.
“That is all.”
“Thank you, Lord Emperor,” Raus said, but his words trailed off as the Emperor’s image faded mid-sentence.
Witchlan stepped forward. “You stand at the top of the Empire, Mr. Kapler. Not a bad trade, we think. We operate on a simple system. Seniority is the rule among Shades. Only I and the Emperor stand above Shades. That is the beginning and the end of it. For the time being you will join Specialist Holson on the Death Squad, holding the rank of Specialist yourself. Lor Kalkin, whom you will meet soon, is First Specialist, your Squad leader.
“The Emperor mentioned an assignment. You have our apologies for rushing, but there are considerations which cannot be ignored and the sooner we can field test you, the sooner we can cement our ranks and move forward here on Sarsa and beyond.”
“Yes, Minister Witchlan,” Raus said.
“Your assignment is simple. Specialist Holson has explained the presence of a traditional enemy in the north. We have detected a significant volume of refined metal and innumerable discrete energy signatures, all of which suggests the presence of high technology, and of a level seemingly on par with your own. You and Specialist Holson are to go by Tether Launch to the north and subdue or destroy whatever force you find there. The Tether Launch controls will be preprogramed to return you to the Root Palace in ten days. As the field test requires a certain degree of performance from you, communications with the Palace will be disabled and no assistance will be offered should any be required. You will excuse our rather draconian conditions, but it is a test and not a sentence—we have every confidence that you will succeed. Upon your successful return, you will be publicly inaugurated as a Shade of the Viscain
Empire.
“Specialist Holson, please escort Specialist Kapler to Tether Launch Station 34 for immediate departure.”
“Yes, Minister,” Jav said.
“Good luck, Specialist Kapler,” Witchlan said.
“Thank you, Minister.”
Jav motioned for Raus to precede him back through the pressure doors.
• • •
As they walked the corridor to Tether Launch Station 34, Raus turned to Jav. “What’s Tether Launch?” he asked.
“Didn’t you ever wonder how I came to Sarsa? Or what it might feel like to be shot from your Lightning Gun?” Jav said, grinning.
“Yes and no,” Raus said, his brow wrinkling in confusion.
Jav shrugged. “Well, you’re about to find out the answer to both those questions.”
They passed through another set of pressure doors into an open bay that faced the Sarsan sky, much like the previous balcony had, but this chamber was high-ceilinged and filled with equipment. A row of great cylindrical tanks were against the wall opposite the sky. Technicians in gray coveralls were tending to various control panels and checking the equipment.
From among the technicians, Kapler nearly missed Kalkin, who was also dressed in gray. In fact, he was dressed exactly as Kapler was, in the Squad’s standard uniform. His dark hair was slicked back like Raus’s, but wasn’t as wavy.
“You must be Raus Kapler,” Kalkin said, smiling and offering his hand up high—Raus was still Dark.
“Yes—” Raus began, taking Kalkin’s hand.
“He’s our boss,” Jav whispered.
“—sir,” Raus finished.
“Lor Kalkin,” Kalkin said.
They shook hands and Raus looked to Jav. “What do they feed you here in this Root Palace? He is as small and as strong as you.” He shook his head in a combination of disbelief and jealous disgust.
Both Jav and Kalkin laughed at that, but Kalkin waved his hands. “No, no. Jav is the strong one. I’m the smart one.”
Jav grinned. “Don’t you believe him. He could turn us both to paste without lifting a finger. That’s why he’s the boss.”
Raus wasn’t sure how far to believe Jav’s statement, but he knew that he’d entered a world where he was no longer the strongest or the best—and boss was a concept he understood. He was beginning to see that leadership within the Viscain Empire was equivalent to true ability and not something falsely or mistakenly awarded. Kalkin looked young, younger than Jav even, but it meant as little as Raus’s own appearance. Years could be hidden.
Technicians approached Raus and Jav and fixed the remote Tether Launch controls to their wrists. Jav went Dark and was clad in the Kaiser Bones before his technician was finished.
“If you’ll step up into the tank,” Kalkin said to Raus, gesturing to the back of the chamber.
Raus did as asked and was a bit embarrassed when prompted by the attending technician to turn back around to face the open bay. Jav stepped into the tank next to Raus’s and allowed the liquid Vine fiber, jetting from a nozzle behind him, to wrap around his torso. Raus could not hide the look of surprise and mild revulsion as he was subjected to the same process.
“Relax, Specialist Kapler,” Kalkin said, chuckling. “The fiber will set, will synch with your Artifact via the control device on your wrist, and will cease to be a nuisance.”
Kalkin got an affirming nod from a technician working the controls at a podium near the bay doors, and in turn, shared a silent nod with Jav.
“Specialist Kapler,” Kalkin said, “physically you are a Shade of the Viscain Empire, but successful completion of this assignment will serve as your true license. Specialist Holson will be your only back-up, and should only be used for counsel except in case of emergency. You are scheduled for automatic return in ten days. No communication with the Empire will be possible during that intervening time. While in synch with your Artifact the Tether Launch control is quite durable, but you may wish to pay special attention to its care if you wish to return as quickly as possible at the conclusion of the assignment. I believe most of this has already been explained to you, so I will simply ask: Do you have any questions?”
He had many, regardless of how often he heard the same information, but shook his head. “No, sir.”
Kalkin nodded. “Specialist Holson will be able to answer any questions that may come up.” Kalkin patted the tank and said to Raus, “Brace yourself.” To the technician at the control podium he said in a loud voice, “Tanks three and four, ready for launch. Initiate countdown.”
Before the open bay, a holographic projection as big as Raus himself, began counting down from ten. The wall behind the tanks thrummed with untold power as some immense engine began cycling up. He swallowed hard, not at all clear about what was to happen when the countdown reached zero.
“Try to keep your eyes open,” Jav shouted from the tank next to him.
Raus heard the words, but didn’t understand their meaning, which prompted him to cry out, “What?” But the countdown completed then and both Raus and Jav lurched forward, each at the head of a jagged fork of lightning that raced half the circumference of the planet in less than a heartbeat.
• • •
They found themselves in twin bowls of glassy ice, the lips of which rising waist high—to Jav, anyway—in a field of unbroken white. Snow was everywhere, on the ground and in the air, blown by sharp, frigid winds, swirling and darting like fat, wet needles. But Raus felt none of it, was touched not in the least by the cold he knew surrounded them.
He took a step and shuddered at what lay beneath him, beneath the snow and ice and frozen earth.
“There are bodies here, countless bodies, well-preserved by the freezing cold,” Raus said.
“Then you should have no trouble crippling the North, even if their Witch Kings still rule,” Jav replied. “Let’s get to some higher ground to get the lay of the land.”
Raus nodded.
They trudged through the thick snow, Raus smiling at the lack of resistance it offered him in his Darkened state. A grade ahead of them made steady progress upward and promised to provide an improved vantage.
“Were you able to keep your eyes open?” Jav asked as they went.
“Yes, but I couldn’t tell you what I saw, not even if I wanted to,” Raus said.
“You can pick up more each time you go, the more your body gets used to it. There was more to see on my trip to Sarsa from the Vine, though.”
The incline they walked grew steeper and the snow in the air thicker, swirling with building winds that howled through unseen crevices in the rock below them, hidden by the cold, white crust. More than once, Raus thought he saw shapes in the flurries, birds or strange shadows that went counter to the wind.
“Did you see that just now?” he asked Jav.
Jav turned his head sharply, attempting to track something in the air alien to the whiteout in which they found themselves. “I keep seeing something, but every time I try to focus on it it disappears or melts away into the storm. Once there’s actually something to see, this snow shouldn’t be an obstacle to a Shade’s senses.”
“So what does that say about something we’ve both noticed but can’t do more than glimpse or register?” Raus asked.
“A good question. So far, it means nothing. If whatever it is becomes a threat, then it’ll mean we were poorly equipped to assess that threat.”
Raus laughed at Jav’s matter-of-fact flippancy. Jav shrugged.
A sharp peak of dark rock peeked from the snow and served as the only marker for what would have been a sudden and treacherous fall. Looking over the curl of rock revealed a broad valley, somewhat sheltered from the wind, surrounded on all sides by high white walls, natural hills that backed into a tall range of mountains. Within the valley, the white upon the cradling walls gave way to more of the dark stone. What the valley held though, was what they sought. The land below spread out some thirty kilometers to the north, terminating in the high, near-v
ertical mountain range, and spread maybe fifteen kilometers between the rows of hills. In a blackened crater before the sheer rising wall of the mountains stood a tower, not unlike Raus’s, but which was twice the size and looked like a giant taper, tip aflame, set out as an offering to or vigil for some ancient force of nature.
Straight down, the precipice fell several hundred meters. A winding path snaked through the high walls two kilometers to the east and led north into what appeared to be a settlement around the base of the tower. Even from this distance, they could see men standing about in great numbers, looking, Raus thought, like sheep grazing. But smoke and steam rose from several different sites and from the tower as well, indicating industry, however primitive.
“Not quite so impressive, eh?” Raus said a little nervously.
Jav shrugged again. “You never know.”
Something had caught Raus’s eye. Suddenly he slapped his own cheek and his hand came away wet. “Something bit me,” he said.
The Blood Solution (Approaching Infinity Book 3) Page 10
