by Andy Remic
"We're already there," said Keenan, quietly.
"You think we're not coming back?"
"I don't believe in miracles," he said.
"So you think we're all going to die? And you stand there, smug and arrogant, and play with our fucking lives and drag us deeper and deeper into this mess, this insanity, and expect us not to fight our way out?"
"Look around," said Keenan. "How the hell did you think we were going to escape?"
"Roll over and fucking die, then," snarled Pippa. "But I won't!" She glared at him. "I thought you had more fight in you than that!"
She stormed off, to where Lunatrick waited by a sandy-floored tunnel that led so steeply up they would have to traverse it on hands and knees. "We must hurry," he said, stroking his thick beard. "They will soon blow a hole in the Upsamid's wall. It is an ancient relic, not a fortress."
"And where are we going now?" snapped Pippa, eyes wild, finger tight on gun trigger.
"Through the core of the Upsamid," said Lunatrick. "Down. Down and down, to the Star Lakes, and down through those, and on towards the Hardcore: Vela. VOLOS's hospital."
Around them, the Upsamid started to vibrate. Sand and pebbles skittered across the floor, and the whole edifice was suddenly shaking as if seized in the fist of a savage earthquake.
"What is it?" shouted Pippa. Franco was slapping at his PAD, but down here, it was effectively non-functional.
"Quickly!" shouted Lunatrick. "Follow me!" His face was contorted in horror. "They have sent the Eartheaters! Oh gods, I cannot believe VOLOS would unleash them on his world, in this place..."
"Eartheaters?" snapped Pippa.
The rumbling increased, and suddenly a hole appeared in one wall in an explosion of rock and dust and snapping teeth. The Eartheater was there, its huge head seemingly made of meshing steel wheels and teeth and eyes, all of them spinning and intertwining like a kaleidoscope from a metal nightmare. Its body was long, the thickness of a man, a putrid stinking brown corrugated sausage-skin, and suddenly five guns trained on the creature and bullets screamed and roared and the whole world became a madness of violence and snapping teeth, Combat K members scrabbling and trying to get back and away from the savage vicious spinning mouth, teeth, gears, saws, wheels, grinders, and eyes. More and more bullets roared and howled, slamming and smashing the Eartheater into a battered bloody limp pulp. There came a slup as the long worm body fell from the fast-excavated tunnel... But still the Upsamid shook.
"That wasn't so bad," said Franco, grinning suddenly, and kicking the long, dead worm with his boot. He surveyed the mash of head which served not only as head, but as an excavation tool capable of burrowing through rock and stone.
"That's the first," whispered Lunatrick. "There will be more! Hundreds more! Quickly, follow me!'
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
VELA
The remaining members of Combat-K scrambled up the steep slope, using fingers and knees to help their ascent. Dust rained down, choking them, filling their eyes with grit, and they struggled against the violent earthquake of Eartheaters. Behind them, in the chamber vacated, they heard five or six creatures thud to the ground and begin a curious screeching, rotating, gnashing of teeth and gears and facial grinding appendages.
"They're coming," boomed Betezh, who had somehow managed to get himself to the back of the group. He kept looking behind in what would have been a comical manner, if the consequences hadn't been having legs chewed off. In a panic, he fired off ten bullets down the steep tunnel - and at the noise, the Eartheater's heads snapped up and they wriggled towards the opening.
"Dickhead," snapped Pippa.
At the top of the incline they ran until they reached a huge cone, the point of which slotted neatly into the tip of the Upsamid. The interior of the cone swirled black on black on black, in what should have appeared a solid blackness. However, here there were a million different shades of black, all coalescing like black cream in black coffee, and the group stared down into this spinning display, and looked to Lunatrick for guidance.
"We must jump," he said. "It will accelerate us down to the Star Lakes. The Upsamid is a transport device, a focus, if you will. It will concentrate you down towards Vela. And, ultimately, VOLOS."
Franco gave a big sigh. At the bottom of the tunnel, the Eartheaters, now numbering twenty or more, made a spirited attempt at climbing the tunnel ascent with face blades gnashing.
"Show me," said Keenan.
Without a word, Lunatrick stepped off the rim and into the swirling black. He vanished, instantly.
Franco nudged Keenan with his elbow. "Hey, how do we know he wasn't just vaporised?"
"We don't."
"So, what do we do now?"
"We jump."
"After you," grinned Franco manically.
"As you wish."
Keenan stepped off the ledge, into the spinning cone, and was gone. No sound, no drama, no fuss. Pippa followed, and Betezh, and Snake and Olga, until only Franco was left alone on the rim, jiggling from one foot to the other, looking nervously into the spinning black and then back at the Eartheaters making their way up the steep tunnel...
"But how do I know you haven't all been vaporised?" he moaned to nobody at all. He glared at the Eartheaters, who gnashed their way towards him. "And you lot can stop fucking grinning as well!" he screeched, turned and, as fangs and circular razors and grinders lurched for him, he leapt. And, even then still moaning, was gone in a flash.
Franco swam through oily blackness, and slowly emerged through the sky as if floating through airborne treacle, to stand on a platform looking across an infinite lake of glittering gold and silver, and a rainbow of colours which merged and meshed and constantly interchanged.
"Far out, dudes," he said. "Why can't the worms follow us?"
"They are machines," explained Lunatrick. "Mechanical constructs. Made from leftover medical equipment. VOLOS is inventive like that. And so, the accelerator cone only works on organic. Even now, they'll be jumping in and getting mashed all up into cogs and gears and bits and shit."
"Neat," said Franco. "I like it." He stroked his beard and stared out over the Star Lakes. He glanced at Pippa. "Hey, fancy a swim?" He laughed, but his laugh petered out into nothing as he saw their faces.
"It would appear you're right. A swim. Yes. In crushed proto-matter; the birthing agent of Stars."
Franco stared at the colourful, swirling matter beneath him. So, he thought, this is the stuff which creates a sun? Wowsers! And I have to swim through it all? Damn and bloody bollocks! That's amazing, that is! Reminds me a bit of those fabulous Rainbow Pills I used to get from Mount Pleasant!
"So we keep going down," said Keenan, eventually, voice weary. "What will we find beneath the Star Lake?"
"This is the final barrier," said Lunatrick as he stroked his beard, voice lugubrious. "And one through which I cannot pass. VOLOS knows me, he knows my genetic code, my DNA keys. I am locked out of Vela, as are all of those Highside. Only you, with your new genetics, will be allowed into the genepool."
"Hey, what kind of genepool?" said Franco. "There ain't nobody stealing my genes. I'm damn fond of every last bloody one, despite some rips in the knees." He was attempting a joke, but nobody took him on.
"It means having been genetically excluded, right?" said Pippa. "This Star Lake, it's like a giant biocomputer. It knows the codes for every lifeform on the planet; and subsequently, can force them out. Keep them away from VOLOS, yeah? Only us, with our new and original codes, out twisted mutations, only we can progress."
"So we just jump in?" said Franco, who was actually quite keen to begin swimming in star-matter. He could sometimes be a little perverse, he was the first to admit; bizarrely, this kind of did it for him. Before he realised what was happening, Olga was beside him, close beside him, very close beside him, rubbing at him and crooning, and she had taken his hand in her great scarred tattooed paw. She squeezed him, and Franco yelped, sure she'd broken a couple of fingers, so prodigi
ous was her strength.
"We go swimming together in the birth of the universe, ya?" she said, and Franco could smell her musky scent.
"Don't get any ideas, Big Girl."
"We swim naked, if you like. It like being born in a star! I heard it quite ze invigorating experience!"
"The thing is," said Franco, "I'm kind of pining. For Mel, you understand? Now, I know she was an eight-foot mutation. And I know she drooled pus from every conceivable orifice. And I realise she divorced me. But, well, Olga, the thing is, I miss her puckered up little brown-mottled face, you know? I miss her growls, grunts and farts. I miss her slimy kisses and the thrill of her sharpened claws around my erection. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that although I've warmed to you, lass, in the last few days during these mad and mental bloody adventures, although you hold a big fat place close to my heart, although I must admit I quite fancy a hairy-lipped snog every now and again and the chance for you to show me those wrestle-fuck moves you keep going on about, the thing is, I'd feel like I was betraying her memory. And I can't be having that, lass."
There was a long pause, and Olga nodded, bent down, and kissed Franco on the cheek. "That was ze beautiful, Franco. Olga will wait for you. Olga will be there for you, when you are ready, no matter how long that take." She ambled off, and gave Betezh a friendly punch on the arm; a blow that disabled him for the next thirty minutes.
Keenan leaned close. "Eloquent," he said.
"Cheers, ears."
"I was being sarcastic."
"You were? Hot damn, you disguise it well, Keenan."
"I'm not looking forward to this. It's a gang-rape of the lowest order."
Franco nodded, and Pippa moved close. "Keenan?"
"Yeah, babe?"
"I'm sorry. About my little outburst. Before."
Keenan grinned, and took Pippa's chin in his hand in a rare moment of affection. His thumb stroked her cheek and, leaning forward, he kissed her, a lingering slow kiss, then turned and faced the Star Lake.
"What was that for?" Her voice was low.
"Ach, fuck it, it wasn't for anything. I kissed you because I could. Because I wanted to. Because I'm sick of this evil between us and the minute we head down there, down to Vela to face this thing, this alien called VOLOS, then there's a high probability we're going to end up dead. This place is too advanced for us, too weird for us. The way we got here, through the Levels in Ward 1, through that Upsamid cone accelerator... that isn't normal, girl. We're dealing with a... with a technology we barely comprehend. This isn't a simple assassination; we can't just wander in there and kill VOLOS. If we don't like what he has to say, if he wants to take us apart gene by gene then, in all reality, there's probably little we can do about it."
"You could contact Cam," she said, in a small voice. "Get him to come fizzing on out to our aid." She laughed. She didn't sound convinced.
"I keep trying, babe. I keep trying; but the little fucker isn't answering."
Pippa moved to the edge of the platform, and gazed out over the Star Lake. Below, colours whirled and twisted through strands of gold and silver. The whole was a beautiful thing, but as Pippa had learned in life, during many a painful experience, beautiful things could often be deadly. Including herself.
She took a deep breath, took hold of Keenan, and kissed him back. He let her hold him, and only pulled away when he saw Franco, in his peripheral vision, hopping towards them in a curious sideways crab-like movement which he sometimes employed. Franco was grinning from ear to ear, as if his head had been opened up by a machete.
"What do you want?"
"Sorry to split up you two lovebirds, eh? Eh?" Franco nudged Pippa viciously in the ribs, and gave her a ribald wink. "Eh love? Eh? I saw all that, tongue action and everything, it was a pleasure to watch, a pleasure to observe if I may say so myself." He licked his lips. And coughed. "Anyway, Lunatrick says we have to go now. Vela awaits. All that kind of crap. So, guys, we going or what?"
"Let's do it," said Keenan, and kissed Pippa again.
They moved to Lunatrick, and Keenan shook the huge man's hand. "Wish us luck, Big Guy."
"Keenan, be careful down there. Trust nothing, nobody, trust not your senses, nor your instincts. VOLOS is old, older than you could ever believe possible; older than worlds, older than Leviathan."
"There's that name again," muttered Franco.
"Not now," said Keenan. "That's a battle for a different time; a different age."
"Are you returning to the Asylum?"
"Yes." Lunatrick nodded. "The inmates will have formed barricades, battle walls, defence lines; long have we waited for such an attack. I just never realised your arrival would be the trigger to initiate hostilities. Still, we will hold, Keenan, my lads are a brave lot. We will hold, waiting for you to return. To fulfil your promise."
Keenan looked into Lunatrick's eyes, and saw that the great man believed it. He nodded, and understanding was there. Lunatrick had to believe in Keenan, for without that belief he would have to give up hope of ever saving his people; of ever freeing them from the slavery imposed by VOLOS.
"VOLOS is greater than a god," said Lunatrick. "Be careful."
"Ach, I'll look after him!" boomed Franco, and slapped Lunatrick on the back, a move which made Lunatrick turn slowly to survey the little ginger squaddie with a baleful scowl.
"Hmm," said Lunatrick.
"So, we just jump in then?" said Franco.
"Yes." Lunatrick gave a sombre nod. "Jump in, and swim down. Swim down as if your lives depend on it. Because they surely do."
Franco turned, just as Keenan placed a home-rolled cigarette between his lips. He lifted his lighter, and Franco leapt forward, grabbing the small Zippo and closing his fist.
Keenan stared at him. "Yeah?" he said.
Franco grinned weakly. "That Star Lake, Keenan. I don't know what exactly is in it, but it's volatile. Dangerous. I knows my bombs, reet? Best not to be lighting fags around this gooey colourful shit. After all, we've got the Asylum directly above us. You could have blown it to Kingdom Come!"
Keenan removed the Widow Maker, and looked forlornly at the bedraggled weed. "I was so looking forward to that. It might have been my last cigarette... ever."
"Yeah. Well. Time for a swim, I'm thinking. But think on this. If we need an instant mega-bomb..." he rolled his eyes madly, and gestured with his shaved head, "here's the stuff, baby, a trillion fucking gallons of it, you get what I'm saying? Y'know? For that last minute Deus Ex Machina type shit going down that you see at the end of films and stuff? The Big Bang? Indeed, the fucking Big Bang. To, y'know, maybe blow up VOLOS, and stuff?"
"Yes." Keenan coughed. "Whatever. After you." Keenan forced a smile.
"Hey, no problem! They don't call me Franco 'Swimming Through Shit Champion' Haggis for nothing, you know." With that, he stepped from the platform, tipped into a dive, and zipped neatly below the surface of the Star Lake.
The others followed, one by one, until only Keenan, Pippa and Lunatrick stood. Pippa dived in an elegant arc, and disappeared. Again, Lunatrick took Keenan's hand.
"Free my people," he said. "Free Sick World."
"I'll do my best," said Keenan, and dived into the Star Lake...
To be consumed by the birthing agent of stars.
Franco pummelled his way downwards as if fighting his bedclothes in his sleep, and was soon overtaken by Pippa with her long, graceful, elegant strokes. Down they swam, as if through honey, through a billion billion twisting threads of gold and silver and rainbow hues, all flickering and twirling, down down down through strands and although there was no oxygen to breathe and none of the squad attempted to breathe, they were sustained. Franco fought his way ever downwards, and found his mind drifting, the world drifting, and everything was so beautiful, so totally serene and two elements flooded his mind like an overdose of brilliant happy narcotic - realisation and fulfilment. Here, Franco was perfect, this place was perfect, and there was no fear, no hate, no war, no death,
and Franco knew he could live out an eternity of perfection and he need never worry again, never feel fear or anger or frustration again. All he had to do was cease his swimming, cease his struggle, and just... hang, baby.
It's a trap, squeaked a little voice in the back of his mind.
Like a fly in a spider's web.
A flapping fish in a shark's radar.
An organic crumb in a SPAW's radiation field...
Franco fought the urge to give up and, twisting, he saw Pippa falling behind him and he slowed his descent, realising it had her; but Keenan swam down behind, grabbed her, shook her and she nodded, gave him a thumbs up, and then they were swimming again and Franco fought his way down.
Down.
Down through colours, down through threads, down through a living matter of sub-organic protons...
And Franco saw gems, diamonds and rubies and emeralds, floating beside him close enough to reach. He passed a diamond the size of a Buggy 6X6, and a sapphire the size of a house. Eyes wide, Franco slowed and turned, and saw Snake homing in on him. Franco gestured, and Snake nodded, single eye mercenary-wide, understanding passing between the two greedy money-orientated gold-grabbing bastards... here was wealth, the greatest wealth they had ever set eyes upon! Only three eyes, but enough eyes to see they could be rich! And it could all be theirs! All they had to do was find a Freighter, rig it with kilometre long slings, and bam! they could be so much Richer than a Very Rich Rich Man.
Keenan's hand slapped Franco's face, a slow-motion blow which nevertheless stung like a bitch and brought Franco kicking back to reality. He blinked, and the images of wealth faded and he saw Keenan give a little shake of his head, and shame burned Franco, burned his cheeks with the burning red brand of Greed. Am I that bad? he asked himself. Am I really that greedy, that base, that uncouth and petty and driven purely by money? Well, money and sex? Am I so bloody impure?
He considered this.
Yes, he thought. I am.
He swam down.
