The Shattering: Omnibus

by Van Allen Plexico

  Major Torgon turned to Agrippa, eyes wide. “What is all of this?” he asked, mystified. “Who could have built such a facility—and why?”

  Agrippa removed his helmet and set it on a nearby console, then shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Major,” he said, “but it is plain to me that the engineers of this place could have possessed the power, the capability, to threaten the galaxy itself.”

  “You speak in the past tense,” the Dyonari High Commander noted. “My understanding was that we were seeking to prevent a threat in the present time.”

  “That is so,” said Solonis, speaking up for the first time in quite a while. “Do not let the lack of inhabitants here dissuade you from the very real danger that is yet posed by this place.”

  “Meaning what?” Agrippa demanded, his patience clearly worn thin. “It’s an automated facility? There is an artificial intelligence at work here? Some sort of malevolent program?”

  Solonis frowned but did not reply.

  “What of the blood?” asked Torgon, nodding toward the droplets that continued out from the stairway and shaft and into this chamber.

  “Follow it,” Agrippa ordered.

  Torgon nodded, hefted his gladius, and started along the trail, moving slowly and carefully. The Dyonari High Commander and two of his warriors followed along behind him.

  Agrippa watched them go, then turned to Solonis. “You know more than you’ve said thus far,” he said in a hushed tone. He gestured at the chamber surrounding them. “Now we are here. Time to share everything.”

  The dark-skinned seer-god met the general’s steely gaze momentarily, pursed his lips and looked away. “I haven’t deceived you,” he said. He closed his eyes and appeared to be concentrating for a moment. “It hasn’t happened yet,” he stated. “We are still earlier than the source event—though I feel we are very close now. Whatever is going to happen, it will occur within the next few minutes.”

  Agrippa nodded. “Yes. But I need more than that,” he growled. “Who is responsible? How can I stop it from happening if I don’t know—”

  “General!”

  The call came to Agrippa very loudly and clearly—and it sounded within his head. He whirled about, seeing Torgon and the three Dyonari standing some distance away, partly obscured by one of the many large banks of equipment. “Major,” he replied. “You’re calling me over the Aether link.”

  “I—what? Yes—yes, you’re right, General,” he said. “I did it instinctively.”

  “It’s working now,” Agrippa noted. “That’s something, anyway.” He started toward Torgon. “What do you have, Major?”

  “Bodies, sir,” Torgon replied. “Dyonari bodies.”

  Agrippa led a string of Kings and Dyonari in the major’s direction. Arriving, the general placed his hands on his hips and gazed down at what his officer had found: Three Dyonari lay on the floor, each of them quite dead. The bodies had been arranged alongside one another in a row, straight out with their arms at their sides.

  “Here’s another one, sir,” Torgon said. He stood next to one of the interface consoles, looking down.

  Agrippa walked over and saw a fourth Dyonari warrior reclining limply in a cushioned seat before a broad control panel. The alien soldier was clearly dead, with blood pooled in the seat beneath his body.

  “What was he up to?” the general wondered aloud, frustration evident in his voice. He looked from Solonis to the Dyonari High Commander. “What was he trying to do? Why did they all come here?”

  The Dyonari leader knelt beside the one in the seat, examining him briefly, then turned his attention to the control panel he had been accessing.

  “Do you recognize their markings?” Agrippa asked the leader. “Where could they have come from, to arrive here before us?”

  The High Commander made a show of studying the insignia on the glass armor. He shook his head.

  Solonis had also been inspecting the bodies. He looked up at Agrippa, his expression grave. “Dyonari, here, attempting to bring about a catastrophe,” he said. “Just as I foresaw.”

  “Whatever they were attempting to do, clearly they failed,” Agrippa boomed. “Perhaps the chain of events is happening differently this time.”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Solonis replied testily. “This is not over.”

  Agrippa looked around, frowning. “Are there others, then?”

  The High Commander raised a hand. “One moment,” he began. “Perhaps we should—”

  The movement had begun seconds earlier, but it had happened with such silent, unexpected suddenness that it had taken a brief moment for those present to register in their minds exactly what they were seeing. As the Dyonari leader became aware of the gigantic, humanoid shapes moving out into the chamber from hidden recesses in the walls, his words trailed off and he stumbled back a step, then reached for his sword.

  Agrippa scowled and drew his gladius. His quad-rifle was already in hand, laid along his right arm, the barrels cycling around with a soft whine. “What is this?” he grumbled, bracing himself for what might happen next.

  Four meters tall and very muscular, the strange beings strode from their places of concealment and converged around the humans and Dyonari near the center of the room. They moved almost silently but with clear purpose. Their skin where it was revealed—mainly their bald heads—was light gray and they wore skin-tight metallic uniforms of muted colors; some had blue as the predominant color, while others emphasized red or green. Their dark eyes flicked here and there, surveying the humans and Dyonari caught virtually flat-footed before them.

  Agrippa hesitated, then called out to them, “Greetings! We mean no harm—we have come to attempt to prevent—”

  The nearest gray giant rushed forward suddenly, silently, gliding across the distance between itself and the human leader in scarcely a second. It was upon Agrippa before he could react. It smashed him with a massive fist, driving him backwards, then pressed its advantage, swinging at him again.

  Half a second after that first giant attacked, the others all did likewise. In the blink of an eye, the formerly peaceful environment was transformed into a miniature battlefield.

  The Dyonari all had their long, curved swords out and counterattacked, but the giants moved incongruously quickly for such large foes, dodging the slashes and striking with their own multi-bladed weapons they produced seemingly from nowhere. The battle on that side of the room became a sort of halting ballet, with the tall, spindly Dyonari dancing about the almost equally nimble and much taller and bulkier gray figures.

  Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the melee, the Kings of Oblivion had instantly and wordlessly reverted to their long-practiced tactics; they backed in toward one another, forming a ring with their guns and swords pointing outward. At the center stood Solonis, protected on all sides by the armored bulk of the human soldiers. Only Agrippa and Torgon were excluded, as they had traveled further across the big room.

  “I believe we can safely assume we are on the right track,” Agrippa called to Solonis. “These creatures clearly mean us harm.”

  “Something is not right,” Solonis replied, his voice conveying uncertainty.

  “Certainly that is so,” Agrippa agreed, fending off a gray giant that seemed intent on decapitating him. “We are being attacked, in case you were not aware.”

  “Not that,” the seer-god snapped back, angry. “Something is wrong here...”

  “Do you mean these...beings...are not the enemy we seek?” Agrippa dodged a swing and lunged with his sword, missing in turn. “They are not the ones who trigger the event?”

  Solonis said nothing for a moment. When he at last began to reply, Agrippa had to shout for him to wait, because a voice had just sounded within the general’s head—a voice, strong and clear as it came through the newly-restored Aether link, that he hadn’t heard in many hours. A voice he had feared he might not hear again.

  “Agrippa,” the voice said. “Is that you?”

  �
��General Tamerlane?” Agrippa was so distracted by the voice that he nearly allowed the giant who was sparring with him to crush his face with a massive punch. As the blond general backpedaled, he sent his reply via the Aether: “How are you contacting me? We are somewhere in the Above!”

  “Apparently not,” the voice of Tamerlane said in his head. “Your beacon lit up a few seconds ago, just after we dropped hyper in-system. You must not be too terribly far away. And in our universe.”

  Agrippa frowned at this. He had too many questions; it was all too much to think about—particularly at this moment, when he was in a fight for his survival with an alien giant.

  “General,” he called back over the Aether, “we have much to discuss, and soon. But, for now, if you would excuse me, I have a pressing matter before me.”

  He could hear it in Tamerlane’s voice when the reply came back: Ezekial knew precisely what sort of “pressing matters” Agrippa often found himself involved with. “Very well, Arnem,” Tamerlane said. “Stay alive and we will see you soon.”

  Agrippa broke the connection even as he brought his gladius around in a quick slice, barely missing the giant’s waist—the height differential was that great. A second later he raised his quad-rifle and unleashed a particle-beam blast that gouged out a chunk of the humanoid’s shoulder. The creature bellowed in pain and staggered back.

  “Ah,” the general shouted, his eyes burning, “I can hurt you!”

  As if in response, the giant redoubled its efforts to strike Agrippa with the multi-bladed weapon it gripped in its left hand. Meanwhile the sound of gunfire filled the chamber as the other Kings opened up with their own pistols and rifles. Agrippa found it odd that these gray giants, apparently serving as guardians of this strange facility, didn’t seem to possess or carry any distance weapons of their own. Then he saw the one opposite him reach down, and in an instant a rectangular shape had formed in the portion of the uniform at the creature’s hip. It extended out, like a box, until the top of it opened and a sort of pistol grip appeared in the opening. The giant grasped the handle and drew what was obviously a gun out, aiming it directly at Agrippa. The general dived to his left, the blinding energy blast only just missing him; a portion of it deflected off the always-reliable Deising-Arry power armor he wore. But, as he rolled and came up onto his feet again, the giant countered with a swing of its other arm, and its gargantuan reach proved more than Agrippa could handle. One of the razor-sharp surfaces of the multi-blade sliced across his cheek, sending a sheet of blood flying.

  “General!” Torgon cried, seeing the blade cutting Agrippa’s face. He attempted to disengage from his own opponent and come to Agrippa’s aid.

  The general’s blood splashed across the floor and against the side of the nearest equipment console.

  One second passed, as Torgon leveled his gun and blasted Agrippa’s opponent. The giant spun away and down, roaring in pain.

  Two seconds passed, as Agrippa regained both his feet and brought up a hand, touching the raw wound on his face, blood running freely from it.

  Three seconds, and a nearly deafening sound filled the room. It was low, deep, resonant; the humans and Dyonari could feel their bones and diaphragms vibrating as much as they could actually hear the sound.

  Four seconds, and all the gray giants ceased their fighting and moved smoothly back to their places in the walls. Panels silently slid upward from the floor, sealing them away.

  Torgon was shaking his head, trying to recover his senses as the last echoes of the sound faded out. He moved over to assist Agrippa, but the general waved him away. “I’m alright,” the human commander told him, even as he swiped a small cylinder across his face. The chemical dispensed from it covered the wound and instantly stopped the bleeding. He looked toward Solonis, standing wide-eyed at the center of the other human troops; between their enemies suddenly disappearing and the bone-shaking sound, most of them appeared extremely disoriented now. “What did you make of that?” the general asked the seer-god, his frustration evident in his tone. “Did that sound herald the event we came here to prevent? Are we too late?”

  Solonis raised both hands and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and shook his head. “No. The shockwaves still travel toward the past. We have not yet arrived at the epicenter of the event.” He made his way between two of the Kings and strode toward Agrippa. “But the time grows very short indeed. I can feel it.”

  Agrippa nodded. He turned to the Dyonari officers, who were approaching from the opposite direction.

  “Why did the giants flee?” asked the High Commander, clearly puzzled. “Our attacks were taking some slight toll upon them, but not enough to—”

  “It wasn’t our doing,” Agrippa said brusquely. “I’m certain of it.” His fingers brushed the slash on his cheek. “The giants were not losing. Something recalled them.”

  “The sound,” the alien commander said, nodding. “Yes. But—why?”

  Agrippa exhaled slowly, then said to the Dyonari, “Excuse me for a moment.” He turned his back on them and walked a short distance away, accessing the Aether as he went. Solonis approached and stood facing him, watching. Agrippa ignored him.

  “So—you survived your pressing matters, then?” Tamerlane said when the link was restored. “I never doubted you would.”

  “Where are you, General?” Agrippa asked. “For that matter—where am I?”

  “Everything indicates you are on a planet in the SK-9 system.”

  “A planet. Well.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a few seconds, weariness just beginning to sink in after all he’d done since leaving Ahknaton—and all he’d done before that. “So we are no longer in the Above.”

  “You are not. I’m aboard a shuttle that is at this very moment landing on that planet, and your carrier signal is coming in loud and clear.”

  Agrippa closed his eyes again, this time thinking. “The shaft,” he said. “I felt disoriented somehow as we descended.”

  “It led out of the Above and into your own universe,” Solonis said over the link. “This facility exists simultaneously in multiple dimensions.”

  Agrippa frowned and looked up at the seer-god. “You are tapped into our Aether frequency,” he said. “How?”

  “I am a god,” Solonis said, shrugging.

  Agrippa considered this and accepted it. “General,” he said to Tamerlane, “if you are indeed on your way here, your assistance would be appreciated.”

  “Be there in a few minutes.”

  Agrippa frowned again. “May I ask—how did you know to come here? How did you know where we would exit the Above?”

  “Your friend there contacted us with the coordinates,” Tamerlane said.

  Agrippa glanced at Solonis again; the seer-god shrugged again. “Just another of my useful tricks,” he said. “I thought your associates might prove valuable to us, should we make it this far.”

  “But how—”

  “Time passes more slowly in the Above,” Solonis said, “so your General Tamerlane had ample opportunity to gather his forces and meet us here, now.”

  “I take it not much time has passed for you, Agrippa,” Tamerlane interjected. “It’s been a few weeks back here in reality.”

  Agrippa waved a hand dismissively. “The entire tale—from both our perspectives—can be told at a later date. But, for now, understand that we have come here on the same urgent mission we set out to perform when we left you on Ahknaton: to prevent the future shattering of the galaxy.” He paused, then added, “And I fear we know as little about its cause now as we did then.”

  14

  They found the external door with little difficulty and it slid soundlessly up into the wall above it, revealing General Ezekial Tamerlane and a cadre of red-clad soldiers and others standing arrayed behind him.

  Tamerlane wore his usual dark red uniform of smooth, crisp smartcloth. His short, dark hair was combed to the side and the golden insignia at his collar glinted in the pale light. He mo
ved forward and embraced Agrippa warmly. The blond general smiled in return and clapped Tamerlane on the back.

  The Kings moved aside and Tamerlane’s party filed in through the giant-proportioned doorway. Beyond, Agrippa could see the shuttle parked in a rocky canyon beneath a pale blue sky; nothing else of the planet they now occupied was visible, but it was definitely nothing like the Above. He felt deeply relieved somehow to be back in his own dimension, and vowed he would not leave it again in this lifetime if he could help it.

  “What’s our time frame?” Tamerlane asked first. “Hours? Minutes?” He looked around. “Hopefully not seconds.”

  Agrippa shook his head. “Unknown. My troops are inspecting the equipment now, as is our new friend from the future. Or rather, from the past.” He frowned. “It gets somewhat confusing.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that.” Tamerlane snorted. He looked toward Solonis. “Can we trust this guy, Arnem?”

  “I have it on the highest authority,” Agrippa replied. “My own.”

  Tamerlane gave him a puzzled look in reply, but Agrippa waved it away. “Until we know precisely what we’re dealing with here,” the blond general explained, “I’m not certain what we should do. Or what we can do.”

  “Take a few quad-rifles or explosives to the place?” Tamerlane asked. “Just trash it all?”

  “We don’t know if that wouldn’t set off the very thing we’re trying to avoid setting off,” Agrippa pointed out.

  Tamerlane scowled. “Yeah, well...That’s why I brought these people.” He gestured toward the crowd of non-uniformed men and women who had followed him in. “A few specialists I felt might be of use.”

  “A few?” Agrippa repeated, surveying the more-than-two-dozen individuals now milling about inside the doorway.