by Chris Fox
“Silence,” Ra thundered. She rose from her throne, descending the stairs with a grace that drew the eye of every man in the room. She stopped before Trevor, a tall woman with the muscles of a lifelong athlete. She cupped his chin, tilting it one way, then the other. “You are well made, Trevor. And resourceful, if my wretch of a son is truthful in his accounts of his time at the Ark of the Redwood. I may let you live, if you please me.”
“He will betray us, most holy,” Anubis snapped, taking a step closer. Trevor could feel him looming, though he couldn’t turn to face the jackal-headed god with his chin still cupped in Ra’s hand.
“You speak out of turn, Anubis,” Ra snapped, her eyes flaring green.
Metal rang on stone as Anubis sank to his knees. “My apologies, mighty Ra. I seek only to protect. This pup is from this new world. He keeps company with your enemies, Isis and her newly created pantheon.”
“Perhaps, but he does so from ignorance,” Ra said, releasing Trevor’s chin. She returned her attention to him, gaze touching his. If his heart still beat, Trevor was sure it would have been thundering in his chest. “You have heard all sorts of lies from Isis and her get. No doubt my son made matters worse, made you think our kind are nothing but malicious gods. Capricious and petty. Let me assure you, that is not the case. You are an immortal now, Trevor Gregg. As the decades blur by you will begin to see time as we do. You think us callous, but we are merely pragmatic. Decisions that seem harsh may in fact save the world millennia from now.”
“So, what then?” Trevor asked, forcing the words out. “You expect me to join you? Just like that? A quick recruitment speech and I betray my friends. Again. Lady, you can shove that speech right up your ass. You may as well kill me now, because I will never work for you.”
Trevor felt the rush of wind as something moved behind him. He had enough time to turn his head, but even blurring he wasn’t fast enough. Anubis’s fan-bladed axe arced towards his skull, and he was powerless to stop his death.
The weapon froze.
Ra had blurred faster than he could see, her right hand pinching the blade between two fingers. The weapon had stopped a hair’s breadth from Trevor’s face.
“If I must chastise you a third time, you will feel my wrath, Anubis,” Ra said, her voice arctic. “This pup is mine to do with as I will, not yours. I know you do not trust him. I know his disrespect burns your honor. But you will hold your temper. Is my will clear?”
“Forgive me, most holy,” Anubis said, dropping to one knee. Ra released the axe, and the weapon clattered to the floor. She turned back to Trevor, gaze cold now. “You have a choice, Trevor Gregg. You can swear to abide by my rule and learn our ways, or I can incinerate you where you stand. I know you have no wish to betray your friends, and I would not ask you to do so, not unless there is no other choice but to fight them. This leaves you in a difficult position, I realize. You risk having to fight your allies, but consider the alternative. If you die here you will never be able to aid them again. If you live, then who knows what the centuries will bring? What say you?”
It wasn’t a hard choice.
“I agree,” he snarled, unable to hide the anger. Here he was being forced into the servitude of another, yet again. Probably forced to kill his friends. Again. Yet it was better than immediate death. As long as he was alive he had a chance to correct matters.
“Your words are insincere, and I know you will attempt to betray me,” Ra said, mounting the steps and sitting in her throne once more. “When that day comes I will destroy you, but until then I will treat you as any other vassal. You will learn to be one of us, one of the royal court of Ra. Before I dismiss you to begin your tutelage I have one final matter to discuss. This other Ka-Dun, the one you call Jordan. Tell me of him.”
“Jordan used to be an enemy,” Trevor began, unsure what to reveal. Telling her the truth couldn’t hurt. She’d have learned all the facts from Steve anyway. “He’s competent, one of the best soldiers of our generation. He’s even stronger now that he’s become a Ka-Dun. He serves the Mother, and he’s loyal to her and her pack. You’ll never turn him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Interesting,” Ra said, giving a half-smile that chilled Trevor more than her earlier fury. She looked to Anubis. “Escort Trevor to Anput. Have him prepared for the banquet. As an equal, Anubis. Not a thrall.”
Trevor glanced at Anubis, catching the hatred in the jackal’s eyes.
Chapter 16- The Gift
Isis swept down from the light bridge into the Ark of the Redwood. It was the first time she’d been here in thirteen millennia, yet it was hardly the joyous homecoming she’d wished for. Instead, she was awash in fury. Not at her surroundings, but at the circumstances. Nothing in this new age had gone as she’d planned. From Ahiga’s death, to Irakesh’s theft of the key, to this sudden news that the conduit from the First Ark to the Nexus had been severed.
Only one person could have severed it: the Ark Lord who’d ruled The First Ark for millennia. Her estranged husband, the man she’d created the virus for. Osiris, the first deathless. Isis pushed the thought away, focusing on the task at hand.
She shifted back to human form, turning to the Ka-Dun Blair as he too stepped off the raised disk. “Letting Ka enter the systems here could have dire consequences, but I do not see any other choice. Your beast can guide you through the process.”
“Are you leaving?” Blair asked, blinking owlishly. He looked so harmless in his human form, a blessing whether he knew it or not. Other gods would underestimate him in the millennia to come.
“No, but I have business to attend to. Use Ka to build a conduit from the central chamber to the Nexus, and do it quickly before the ocean claims it. Once you are finished, come find me on Angel Island,” she instructed, already exiting the chamber.
Yukon trotted at her heels, patient in a way no wolf would have managed. He followed her through many passages, until they finally reached the central chamber. To the untrained eye it was identical to her own Ark, each obelisk in exactly the same position. Yet to her eye the two couldn’t have been more different.
She ran her hand along the black stone wall, remembering the carving of every glyph. Her hands had sculpted the magnificent statues flanking the doorway to the rejuvenation chamber. One was her, of course. All her work bore such a statue, a signature of sorts. The other was unique, however, a tribute to her daughter Jes’Ka.
It showed a fierce Ka-Ken armed with a golden spear. Her eyes blazed with fury, and her gums had been pulled back over a mouthful of impressive fangs. It was an expression Isis remembered well, once she’d both dreaded and loved. Dreaded, because it often accompanied a tirade from her strong-willed daughter. Loved, because it meant Jes’Ka had the same untamable spirit as her father, Osiris.
The Mother swept past the statue and into the room beyond; she paused there, studying the two occupied rejuvenators. One held Lucas, the dark-skinned male a long time servant of her daughter. The other held Jes’Ka herself; proud, and stubborn, and beautiful. Her golden locks blanketed the bed around her, alabaster skin shining in the white light of the chamber. She looked at peace, though that would change when she woke.
A rare moment of indecision washed through the Mother. Isis so badly wanted to wake her daughter, yet she knew it would be a mistake. She was about to embark on a dangerous quest to investigate the first Ark. For good or ill, Osiris lay at the end of that path, and if he’d truly manipulated history as she suspected he had, then he might very well have become her greatest foe.
If it came to battle between them she wasn’t sure which side her daughter would choose. It was hardly fair to put Jes’Ka in that position, and more than that it was dangerous. If Jes’Ka supported her father the two of them would be more than a match for Isis. More than a match for Sekmet, if she could even convince her near-sister to join forces. Together they’d be all but unstoppable.
Isis turned from the rejuvenator and strode back into the central chamber.
She could not afford to dally in such personal matters. She had work to be about. She closed her eyes, feeling the Ark around her. It was immediately clear why Steve had been able to escape. Blair had initiated none of the proper security measures. Any Ark Lord could utilize this place. She’d have to teach him to defend it, but there wasn’t time for that now.
She reached into the Ark’s well, pulling in enough power to initiate a light walk. Then she was elsewhere, standing on a dock she’d plucked from Blair’s memories. It lay on Angel Island, the place where the Ka-Ken Liz was gathering her growing flock. That was to the good. Liz had impressed her, doubly so after combing Blair’s memories.
The Ka-Ken was strong. Intelligent. More than that, she was bold enough to make hard choices, and that would make her an incredible leader. If she were given the time to learn.
In the distance lay the ruins of a truly impressive bridge, painted gold by the waning sunlight. Beyond it lay a dense city, every bit as grand as anything from her world. She’d glimpsed skyscrapers in memories, and seen a few in Cajamarca. None like this. San Francisco was an impressive city. A city of the dead, unfortunately. Figures moved in the distance, most shambling between buildings. Enough to clog even the wide streets.
Isis turned her attention back to her immediate surroundings. She scanned the dock, where a jumble of men were unloading metal boxes from a battered-looking boat. They ignored her, which made her smile. To them she was a girl just out of adolescence. Liz was smarter than that though. The Ka-Ken obviously sensed something, whirling to face Isis.
“Hello, Ka-Ken,” Isis said, giving a warm smile. She opened her arms, taking a step forward to embrace Liz. “Your struggles have been difficult, and there are more to come. But I am proud of all you have accomplished.”
Liz all but engulfed Isis in a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. Thank God.”
“Would that we had time to reminisce, but the situation is dire. We must depart this place within the hour,” Isis said, stifling a sigh. In a way, every Ka-Ken was her daughter, and she longed to comfort Liz. Yet doing so would be no favor. Liz needed to learn to stand on her own.
“Leave?” Liz replied, taking a step back. She brushed a lock of hair from her face, staring in confusion. “We can’t leave. These people just weathered an attack by deathless. We drove them off and killed most of them, but a few escaped. They’ll be back, sooner or later.”
Isis folded her arms, turning toward the setting sun. She was silent for a long moment, considering. “The crisis we face is more important than any single settlement, yet I’d not abandon even a single bastion. Yukon, to me.”
The dog had been sniffing about several refugees, tail wagging as he made new friends. One of them was a girl about twelve, on the cusp of adolescence. She had long, dark hair, and a dirty face. Well, dirty until Yukon began licking it furiously.
At her command he reluctantly abandoned his new friend, trotting over to Isis. She lay a hand on the side of his face, smiling grimly down at him. “This place is in great danger. The not-deads come in ever greater numbers, and without protection these people are doomed.”
No. Yukon’s thought was loud and angry. We will protect them. We will slay the not-deads.
“I must leave to face a graver threat, my friend. Will you stay and protect these people?” she asked. Isis was conscious of Liz’s tense form next to her. The Ka-Ken couldn’t hear Yukon’s responses, of course.
Yes, but I am not strong. I cannot do it alone.
“Nor will you need to, my friend. I want you to reform the Great Pack. Find other dogs, find coyotes, and foxes. Gather them to you. There is strength in numbers, and in time they will awaken as you have,” she explained, her smile growing warmer. “Will you do this?”
I will do this thing. Yukon said, mind firm with resolve.
“Isis,” Liz began, more timidly than Isis would have liked, “will a pack of dogs be enough to protect these people?”
“No,” Isis said, extending a hand. The Primary Access Key flowed into it, a pool of gold that gradually elongated into a familiar staff with a winged scarab at one end. She turned to face the refugees, the sapphire in the scarab’s thorax flaring blue as it sent out a spiderweb of wispy blue tendrils. “We need champions as well.”
“What are you doing?” Liz asked, her gaze following the tendrils.
One found the girl Yukon had been licking, and it flared brightly, leaving a glowing blue mark on the girl’s forehead. Four others found their mark within the crowd, but that was all. So few.
“Those with the mark have the greatest chance of returning from the dead,” Isis said, gravely. She faced Liz. “It is not certain, but their helixes bear the greatest likelihood of bonding with the virus.”
“You’re going to kill them,” Liz said, clearly aghast. “Isis, she’s a child. You can’t.”
“I’m not going to kill them,” Isis said, gaze catching the Ka-Ken. She took a step toward the larger woman. “You are. This is your domain, your pack. If you wish these people to survive your absence, you must provide them with champions. It is a difficult task, I know. Yet what chance do they have if you are too weak to do what must be done?”
Liz’s face fell. Tears welled up as she looked at the child. Several moments passed as indecision warred across her features. In the end the battle was won, and Liz’s face hardened with resolve.
Chapter 17- Anput
Trevor eyed Anubis warily as the jackal-headed god escorted him through a myriad of passageways. They probably corresponded to their counterparts in Blair’s Ark, but Trevor had never been in this area so he couldn’t identify the high-ceilinged hallways. They were black stone with golden hieroglyphs, which seemed to cover every available surface. Similar glyphs were present in Blair’s Ark, but fewer and in a different style.
Anubis climbed a steep stairway, pausing at the top for Trevor to join him. He summed up Trevor with that awful canine gaze. “You are unworthy of existence, pup. Yet I am loyal to Ra, she who gave us all life. She commands me to give you into the care of my wife. Know this, however: If you speak ill of or to my wife, if you look upon her with lust, or if you offer her any offense, then I will destroy you. Not even memory of your name will survive.”
Be careful, my host. Show no resistance, his risen counseled. Unnecessarily. Trevor knew better than to pick a fight with something much stronger and much older than he was.
“Listen, Anubis. It’s Anubis, right? I came here for one reason, and one reason only. To kill Steve,” Trevor explained, meeting the jackal’s gaze evenly. “I didn’t plan on any of this, but since I’ve been adopted into your little pantheon I plan to mind my manners. I won’t offer your wife any offense, and if I offer you any please give me a chance to apologize before you ram that axe through my chest. Remember, I’m ignorant of your ways.”
“I promise nothing,” Anubis snarled, though he seemed mollified.
The jackal stalked up the next corridor, eventually pausing outside the entryway to a large chamber. The chamber was roughly twice the size of the one Trevor had occupied back in Blair’s Ark, and, unlike his, had been heavily modified. Ornate rugs covered the floors, and statues of various Egyptian deities dotted the chamber. A massive four poster bed dominated one corner, and the far side of the room even contained a pool-sized bath.
A figure emerged from that bath, naked and dripping as she stepped onto the stone and picked up a towel. She made no move to use it, instead sizing up Trevor like a puzzle she was trying to solve. The woman was beautiful, no doubt about that. She had long, dark-skinned legs, and patient wide eyes. A river of black hair cascaded down her back, twisted into fine braids, each with a golden bead at the end.
Trevor was about to look away, largely due to Anubis’s warning, when he noticed something hanging brightly in the air above her. It was a multicolored sigil of some kind, a stylized likeness of Anubis. He wasn’t sure precisely what it signified. Marriage maybe? Trevor dropped his gaze to the stone, waitin
g for either Anubis or the woman to speak. He noted that the woman looked completely human, no toxic green gaze, no razored teeth. That was an interesting tidbit to file away.
“My wife,” Anubis rumbled, clicking his away across the floor until he towered over the woman. “Ra commands me to present you with this pup. He is a new god, from this strange age. She commands that you educate him in our ways. Know this, however, I have sworn to—”
“Leave off, husband,” the woman said, placing a hand on Anubis’s forearm. His jaws snapped shut, though his gaze still smoldered. “I can tell already that you have no love for the pup, and you and I will discuss the reasons later. In private. For now, please allow me to discharge the obligation Ra has given me. The pup will learn nothing with you looming over him, ready to mete out violence. Leave us.”
Anubis gave a curt nod, whirling and stalking past Trevor. He passed far closer than was strictly necessary, furry muscles gliding past Trevor’s face as if a reminder of how close to death he came.
“How are you called, newling?” the woman asked, toweling the water from her naked body.
“My name is Trevor. Trevor Gregg,” he amended, still trying to avert his gaze. The basic human needs for sex were supposed to be gone, but he experienced a very human lust. He hadn’t felt that way with Ra, despite the fact that the fiery-haired goddess was much more beautiful than Anput.
“I am called Anput, wife of Anubis and daughter of Osiris,” she said, giving him a wide smile. Her teeth were perfectly white, and, as he’d noted earlier, perfectly straight. Illusion, perhaps? If that was the case he should have been able to detect her shaping.
No illusion, my host. She is cousin to the deathless, but a wholly separate creature. She cannot be trusted. Your desire for her is unnatural, one of the abilities her kind possesses.
“So, you’re supposed to teach me how to fit in here?” Trevor asked, mainly to fill the silence that lingered in the wake of her statement.
