by Chris Fox
“Do not push me, Ka-Dun,” Irakesh growled, chest heaving as if from exertion. Odd, that. Deathless no longer breathed, so the gesture was nothing more than a vestigial response from Irakesh’s days among the living. “You have dangled the carrot of freedom for too long. I’ll have it now, or this mockery of a partnership is at an end.”
“Very well,” Steve allowed, wiping blood from his lip. “I’ve waited until now, because we need Blair to be distracted. I can light walk to the central chamber, but from there we have to reach a light bridge in order to travel to the Ark of the Cradle. If we are not careful, he will intercept us before we can escape. If I reveal that I can light walk, Blair will close that route and we’ll be truly trapped.”
“So what is it that makes you think he is now distracted?” Irakesh asked. His expression was dubious, but curiosity lurked there.
“A few moments ago a tremendous surge of power rushed through the Ark,” Steve explained, turning to face the lattice of energy bordering the cell. He took a step back from it, just in case. If he were too close, it might interfere with light walking. “I don’t know the source of that energy, but either it’s something Blair doesn’t expect, or he’s busy with something massive and delicate. That kind of shaping will take focus.”
“Ahhh,” Irakesh allowed, giving a shark-toothed smile. “Either way, he will be distracted. Clever, Ka-Dun Steve. Perhaps I have underestimated you.”
“Perhaps,” Steve said, extending a hand and grasping Irakesh tightly on the shoulder. “Come, let us be away from this prison.”
Chapter 5- Imprisoned
Mark came to by degrees, gradually returning to consciousness. The room was bright, but he couldn’t close his eyes for some reason. Couldn’t blink. In fact, he had no motor control at all. His body lay limply on something cold and metallic, and he was staring upwards at a chrome ceiling. It was cold, but whatever muscle relaxant he’d been dosed with prevented him from shivering.
A door to his right hissed open and a figure entered. He saw the movement, but couldn’t make out anything specific. It was frustrating, but he willed himself to stillness. If they wanted him dead, he already would be. If they wanted to interrogate him, they wouldn’t have used a muscle relaxer, because that would dull any pain they’d inflict. So they must be here to talk.
“Good morning, Mark,” came a familiar voice, pleasant and cultured. Leif Mohn, the Old Man himself. The victor of the brief civil war Mark had instigated at the Syracuse facility. He had no idea where he was, but he knew it wasn’t Syracuse. He knew that installation, and this room wasn’t a part of it. “I trust you’re feeling more like yourself. It will probably take some time for the grogginess to fade. You’ve been in a medically induced coma for three and a half weeks.”
“Why?” Mark tried to ask, but it came out as little more than a croak. He swallowed. Damn, but his throat was raw.
“Here, drink some of this,” Mohn insisted, moving into Mark’s field of view. He pressed a straw gently into Mark’s mouth. Mark sucked greedily, not caring about the water’s metallic taste. “Not too much now. Just a little at first.”
Mark cleared his throat, then tried speaking again. “Why am I alive?”
“Because you are Mohn Corp’s most senior surviving director. The rank and file all but worship you, and in this new world that makes you a very, very valuable commodity,” Mohn explained. He dragged a plastic chair close to Mark’s bed, sitting with exaggerated care. He folded his trench coat over his knees, the grey fabric beaded with drops of rain. So a wet climate, wherever they were. “We’re facing threats most men can’t bring themselves to accept as real. Without strong leadership, the men will break, and mankind’s last shield will shatter. I cannot allow that to happen.”
“You can’t possibly believe I’ll help you and whatever monster you work for,” Mark replied, trying to turn his head to face the old man. A strap held his forehead in place, but at least he could move his eyes now. “I rebelled for a reason. I’ve seen what these things can do. We need to fight them, not give them the fucking keys to the kingdom.”
“I can understand why you’d believe that,” Mohn said, leaning back in his chair. He removed an ornately carved wooden pipe from the pocket of his trench coat, and a leather pouch from another. “When he first took me as a servant I believed much the same. I rebelled repeatedly. In my limited understanding, I thought he was some sort of demon, that he was trying to bring about an apocalypse.”
“But at some point you sold your soul instead?” Mark replied. A thousand tiny pinpricks were making their way up his limbs as feeling began to return.
“In a manner of speaking,” Mohn admitted. That surprised Mark. “It took three decades. During that time, I had the briefest taste of immortality, saw the world in a way few men do. I came to realize my master was guiding the fate of our species. Doing so requires many short term sacrifices, it means individuals matter not at all. It has to be that way, if we expect to survive in this new age.”
“Can you even hear yourself?” Mark snapped. “You sound like a Bond villain, justifying his poorly conceived plot.” He immediately regretted the loss of control, not because Mohn didn’t deserve it, but because right now his wits were his only tool. “What is it your ‘master’ wants?”
“One of the many titles he wears is the Guardian of the West, the protector of mankind,” Mohn explained, adding a pinch of tobacco to his pipe. “It’s a responsibility he takes seriously, one he’s borne for a very long time. When the first pyramids were built in Egypt, he was there guiding them. Imhotep, they called him. When the Mayans built their civilization three millennia later he was there, guiding them. Cambodia. Stonehenge—my master was there shaping humanity, preparing us for this day.
“Mohn Corp is one small piece of his plan, a way to harness technology his contemporaries know nothing about,” the old man continued, finally lighting the pipe. He took an experimental puff. The stuff was pungent, but not unpleasant. “A war is about to begin, Mark. A war between gods who drew breath when the most complicated human tool was a stone hand-axe. When we lived in caves and could only dream of writing. The winner of that war will decide the fate of our species. You assume my master is a monster, an evil to be stopped. Mark, he is the best hope we have. You know of Irakesh. There are far worse evils gathering strength even now. My master is the only one strong enough to oppose them.”
“I get that you believe that,” Mark said, blinking rapidly. The smoke burned his eyes. “I don’t. I’m not going to sell my soul, Leif. I’m better than that. I’m loyal to humanity. I sent Jordan to deal with Irakesh. He’s the best of the best. He’ll deal with you and your master too, eventually.”
“Will he now?” Leif asked, rising from the chair. “Osiris will be here soon, and I promise after you meet him you’ll feel quite differently about things. Not only will you serve the Master, but you’ll count yourself privileged to do it.”
The old man turned and slipped from the room, leaving that cloying smoke in his wake. For the first time he could remember, Mark was terrified. These ancients possessed abilities they barely understood. One thing had been quite clear: they could control minds.
Chapter 6- Oh Shit
“Oh shit,” Blair said, rising unsteadily to his feet. He blinked away spots, the afterimage caused by the glow the Ark had emitted. The massive structure had returned to a flat black, and was little more than a looming shadow now that full night had fallen.
“What is it?” Liz asked, turning to face him. Her tone was hard. It had been since the fight, not that he could blame her. A lot of people had died.
“Steve and Irakesh,” Blair said. He tucked his hands in the pocket of his windbreaker to ward off the chill. “What if the system malfunctions shorted out their cell?”
“They’d still be trapped inside, right?” Trevor asked from his place in the shadows beneath a nearby pine. Blair started. He’d almost forgotten Trevor was there.
“Maybe,” he
said, directing his answer to the twin pools of green shining in the darkness. “I still don’t know everything the Ark can do, but at the very least it does have a light bridge. They might be able to use it to light walk out, though I’m not sure where they could go.”
“Then you’re right. We need to get inside,” Liz said. She sounded so tired, her usual determination faded to a dull monotone. “Trevor, will you go grab Jordan? The three of you can investigate. I’ll stay to oversee the island until you get back.”
“On it,” Trevor said, trotting off into the darkness. Blair could hear Jordan bellowing orders down near the dock, so not far.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Blair said, quietly. He approached Liz, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
She wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. It was as intimate as she’d been with him in a while, especially in the last few weeks. They’d never really returned to the close bond they’d developed when they’d been on the run from Mohn.
“The attack wasn’t my fault,” she said, disengaging and meeting his gaze. “The moment of hesitation when I couldn’t decide whether to stop the deathless or help you was. I screwed up, and I cannot allow that to happen. Jordan’s right. Emotion can get us killed.”
Blair wanted to trot out a counterargument, or at least say something to make her feel better. What would that be, though? He’d made a lot of mistakes in the last several months, most of them caused by giving in to one emotion or another. They had to be above that.
Liz settled her arms around his waist again, soft curves pressing against him. It felt good, and he decided to enjoy the moment. They might not get another any time soon, at least if their track record for crises continued unabated.
“I’m glad I met you, Liz,” he whispered. She didn’t reply, but she did squeeze him a bit tighter.
Footsteps crunched on the gravel, approaching quickly. Liz released him immediately, her back straightening as she became the warrior once more.
“Let’s move,” Jordan said, striding up boldly. “Trevor filled me in.”
“Great,” Liz said, turning to face him. “Handle the situation, then get back here as quickly as you can. I’ll handle the defense for now, and see if we can recruit a few more people to replace our losses. Is Yuri still in command?”
“He is,” Jordan said, giving a tight nod. “I’ve ordered him to organize the remaining militia into smaller squads for more coverage. You’re right, though, we need more people. Starting recruitment is a good idea.”
“You’re wasting time,” Liz said, her tone frosty. Her eyes were fastened on Jordan. “If there’s a chance Steve has escaped we need to stop him. This time we listen to you. If he’s left that cell, he dies. No more imprisonment. He’s too much of a risk walking around.”
Jordan nodded. His expression was…approving.
“I’m going to initiate the light walk,” Blair interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention.
It was harder than usual, perhaps because the Ark had less to give. Warning klaxons were still echoing in his mind, and he was aware of several hundred systems that were still offline. Whatever the Ark had done had taxed it to the edge of its abilities, even with the enormous infusion of power Irakesh had given it when he detonated the bomb.
Blair used some of his own energy, closing his eyes and willing them to appear within the central chamber. There was a moment of resistance, then they were surrounded by clear white light. When it faded they stood in the central chamber.
Chapter 7- Pursuit
The lights in the central chamber flickered, occasionally flaring brighter, yet never reaching their full illumination. The place reeked of ozone, though Jordan wasn’t sure what had caused it.
“What the hell happened to this place?” Trevor whispered, spinning slowly in place.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jordan said, fixing Blair with his gaze. “Can you detect whether the cells are still occupied?”
“I don’t know,” Blair said, rounding to face him. He looked concerned. And angry. “I felt something, a surge of some kind.”
“Like the pulses?” Trevor asked. Jordan noted the deathless had one hand around the .357 belted at his side. He might not like Trevor, but he respected his combat prowess.
“Sort of,” Blair said. He spun slowly, one hand raised as if testing the air somehow. “Not quite, though. It was weaker, and it reminded me of something. It was just like whenever I light walk…”
Blair trailed off, and his eyes widened. “Oh crap.”
There was a brief flash of light, then Jordan was elsewhere. He took in his surroundings once again, this time even more cautiously since he hadn’t been expecting the second light walk. They stood in an arched hallway with bronzed walls. Every few feet, a small room with no door broke the flow of the hall. The one they stood in front of had a crackling lattice of energy.
“They’re gone,” Trevor said, pointing at the cell even as Jordan realized the same thing. There was no sign of Irakesh or Steve.
“Irakesh is a master of illusion,” Jordan said, thinking out loud. “Is there any chance he’s using that to fool our senses?”
“So we’d open the cell and let them out,” Blair said, cocking his head as he approached the crackling blue energy. “I don’t think that’s it. I’d be able to sense Steve at least. He can’t hide the presence of an access key, and I don’t feel anything inside. They aren’t here anymore.”
“You said you felt light waking?” Trevor said. His words hung in the air as they all considered the implications.
“How far could he go using that?” Jordan asked. It bothered him that he didn’t understand the tactical limitations of such an immense power.
“Not far,” Blair said, shaking his head. “I think he’s still in the Ark somewhere. He might have made it as far as Angel Island, but I doubt it.”
“Where would he go inside the Ark?” Trevor asked.
“There are only a few tactical choices,” Jordan said, voice deepening as he shifted. His clothing disappeared, replaced by thick blonde fur. He barely felt the pain. “He could be trying to wake the sleepers in those rejuvenators, or he could be trying to escape. Do you think he has some sort of power that would let him get through the bay?”
“Possibly,” Blair allowed. He shifted as well, bones cracking as a muzzle sprang from his face. In the space of two seconds, he gained two feet in height, and his body was covered in thick silver fur. “There’s another option, though. He could be trying to use the light bridge.”
“Light bridge?” Trevor asked. The deathless withdrew his pistol, cradling it in both hands.
“No time to explain. I’m going to light walk us down to the light bridge. We’ll start there, and if we can’t find them we’ll widen the search,” Blair said.
Then they were bathed in light again, and Jordan was elsewhere. Damn, but he was getting tired of this light walking shit.
Chapter 8- The Nexus
Blair blinked twice, knees sagging as he gazed around him in wonder. He wasn’t sure where the sudden weakness had come from; perhaps it was the enormous distance they’d apparently traveled. Wherever they were, it certainly wasn’t anywhere near San Francisco.
You have entered the Nexus, Ka-Dun. The Beast rumbled softly. Even The Mother does not understand it fully. Its age is incalculable.
That surprised him. Gaps in Isis’s knowledge were rare, though she’d already admitted they did exist. Whatever this place was, it predated even her. He studied the architecture carefully, immediately picking out common patterns. The fluted columns could have been found in 4th Dynasty Egypt, the scarabs and sphinxes the same style he’d grown up loving.
The resemblance to ancient Egypt ended there. The walls were a familiar black stone, dotted with diamond-shaped crystals every ten feet. Those were a perfect mirror of the ones found in the Ark of the Redwood, reinforcing what he already knew. The Builders had created this place as well.
Bridg
et would have loved it. Thinking of her was painful, but also freeing. They’d reconciled at the end, and in her final moments he’d learned just how much that had meant to her. She’d died content, and her sacrifice had not been in vain. He could finally lay her memory to rest, and move on to better things. Red-headed things.
That brought his attention back to his surroundings. Irakesh had been directly responsible for Bridget’s death, even if it was Cyntia who’d done the killing. He and Liz had dealt with the crazed abomination, but Cyntia’s death did little to quiet his thirst for vengeance. Irakesh and Steve were going to die, even if it meant giving up vital knowledge.
“This way,” Blair said, stepping down from the platform. It was a raised golden disk about a dozen feet across, surrounded by a triangle of black stone that sloped gently to the floor.
Trevor disappeared into the shadows, while Jordan prowled ahead. His pistol was comically small in his huge furry fists, but Blair seriously doubted anyone would be foolish enough to laugh at the commander.
They followed the corridor between the fluted columns, each diamond-shaped crystal flickering to life as they passed. They shed a wan illumination, just a pale shadow of the brilliance Blair had witnessed in both the other Arks he’d seen.
“What’s wrong with the lights? This place is even worse off than the Mother’s Ark,” he whispered softly. It was for Trevor’s benefit. He was a master of the harder sciences, and far more at home with computers than Blair. If anyone understood what was happening here, it would be him.
“This place has to run on power of some sort. I imagine it’s running out,” came a disembodied whisper to his right.
Jordan made a sudden shushing motion, then glided into a chamber at the far end of the corridor. Blair followed, stopping in the doorway to gawk. The chamber was a large domed room, the ceiling thrusting some seventy-five feet into the air. It was perfectly clear glass, and it held what appeared to be an ocean at bay, the kind that was so deep light no longer penetrated.
