Overlord

by David Wood

  Akan tilted his head, confused again. Aston shook it off. He needed to focus. He used the point of the dagger to scratch crude drawings in the loose grit of the cave floor. He made five stick figures. He pointed to the first, then at himself, and said, “Me. Aston.” Then he pointed at the next one and then to Tate. Then to the third one, then to Jen. Akan frowned, then nodded. It pointed to the other two stick figures and looked around.

  “Yes, exactly!” Aston said. He gestured widely once more. “Where? Where are our two friends?”

  Akan paused, seemingly in thought. Then it took out a bloodstone dagger of its own and sketched a rough map in the dirt. He marked several passages, then drew a huge circle. He added ripple marks, making the circle look like a body of water. He tapped at it, as if to say ‘Try here’.

  When the other Annaki who had remained with them realized what Akan had drawn, they set up a clamor, jabbering and clicking. Akan argued back. The conversation grew heated, adversarial.

  “They sure don’t like his suggestion,” Aston said to Tate and Jen.

  Akan argued some more, then barked a couple of short, sharp phrases. He seemed to have some authority and the others reluctantly quieted down. Akan stood and motioned for Aston to follow.

  He saw it was trembling, nervous even in its conviction. “We’ll come with you,” he said, hurrying Tate and Jen along. But he wondered if it was a mistake.

  Akan and two other Annaki led the way, the two clearly reluctant but doing as they were told. None of them seemed happy.

  “Where is it taking us, do you think?” Tate asked.

  “I don’t know,” Aston said. “But wherever it is, I think this little guy is scared shitless of what’s waiting there.”

  35

  Slater led the way through dark tunnels, shining her headlamp before her. Syed walked at her side, the biologist’s face set and determined, but fear was obvious in her eyes. Slater hoped her pounding heart couldn’t be heard over the scuff and scrape of their footsteps. She had to think of something, because if she continued to lead them blindly along dark passages, eventually they would tire of humoring her. And then, she thought, they would almost certainly shoot her.

  She clenched her teeth, literally biting down on the panic that threatened to rise and take her sanity away. The pressure of these dark tubes of rock had started to become a palpable force, the claustrophobia repeatedly stripping her breath, forcing her to gasp great lungfuls of frightened breath. She didn’t want to die down here, by any means. Not at the snapping mandibles of the mantics, though at least that would be quick. She didn’t want to be shot either, even if that was equally swift. But most of all, she didn’t want to wander lost and frightened, only to get weaker and weaker until she eventually starved to death in the dark, with no light, no food or water, no friends. No hope. She suppressed a sob, thoughts of Aston coming back to her. He had to be alive. If recent events had taught her anything, it was that Aston was hard to kill and the bastard had a habit of popping up again. She had to hold onto that hope. If she considered him already dead, the insanity would leap from the base of her gut where it swirled and throttle her mind in an instant.

  Keep moving, find Sam, get out. Keep moving, find Sam, get out. It became a mantra as she walked.

  “Seems like we’re getting nowhere,” Larsen barked from behind her.

  Her back arched from the jab of his pistol barrel. She staggered forward a couple of extra paces away from it. “Just be patient,” she said, cursing the high note of fear in her voice. “We have to go a long way around, because we couldn’t go back the way we came.”

  “We will shoot you and scavenge your supplies if you don’t help us,” he said. “You know that, right?”

  Slater laughed in spite of herself. “You’re a really great motivator, Anders. I bet you’d quickly rise to the very top of middle management if you took an office job.”

  To her surprise, Olsen, the merc leader, laughed out loud. But when he came up alongside her, his face was scarily hard. “He is less than a leader,” Olsen said, his voice heavily accented Scandinavian. “But his point is true. We won’t carry baggage. Where are you leading us?”

  “Back to the green cavern, just like you asked. Only it’s a circuitous route, that’s all.” She realized the slight glitter of nascent vines that seemed to thread a lot of the tunnels between larger caves, appeared to be brighter. She grabbed onto that small detail. “See how these are glowing more? That means we’re getting closer.”

  Olsen’s eyes narrowed. Clearly he didn’t believe her, but he dropped back a pace or two again. Although she couldn’t feel its touch, she strongly sensed the presence of his assault rifle inches from her back.

  Syed glanced over, a question in her eyes. Slater gave the tiniest shrug. Maybe there was something to it. The tiny filaments of vine did appear to be increasing. They trudged on, leaving a little more hope behind with each step. Syed’s headlamp flickered and dimmed a little, then came back. Her hand rose to it, panic in her eyes.

  “Turn it off for now,” Slater said. “Save your battery. We can manage with mine.”

  Olsen said something in rapid Norwegian from behind them, then Jensen and Larsen’s lights clicked off. Slater allowed herself a small smile. It was some comfort, at least, that even the big tough mercs were as concerned about survival as she was. Even if they did end up shooting her and Jahara, it gave her some melancholic pleasure to know they’d probably still die here, too.

  With the sudden reduction in light around them, Slater noticed a soft glow far ahead. She allowed herself a moment of hope. The smear of green luminescence along the walls was definitely more than the simple hints of tunnel growth. Had she, through dumb luck, actually managed to guide them back to the green cavern after all?

  She thought about saying something flippant like, Here we are then! but decided against it. No point in tempting fate. They had seen other brightly illuminated caverns, had nearly died in one despite the safety they thought it offered. Several of them had, in fact, died there. She drew another deep, nervous breath and pushed on.

  “Is this it?” Larsen said from behind as the brightness grew. The relief was apparent in his voice.

  But they stepped out into something none of them could have anticipated. The passage opened into an impossibly huge space. The walls and ceiling disappeared into infinity, lost away and above in the distance to clouds of swirling, pale green mist. To their right, the ground rose to a high ledge of rock, the wall rising above it to be lost in fog. To their left, the rocky ground curved slowly away into fog-shrouded distance. Several more tunnels emerged at various places along both sides. But in front of them, shimmering and gently lapping, was water that could only be described as an ocean. It glimmered with its own green phosphorescence, sparkling in tiny wavelets that rose and fell. The edge lapped softly at the rock, in a gentle mesmerizing rhythm that left pale deposits of brightness behind that slowly dimmed, only to be replaced with the next gentle wave. Mist swirled over the surface of the water that seemed to stretch away from them forever.

  Slater’s breath was trapped in her chest with wonder, but Larsen managed to find his voice.

  “What the hell is this?”

  36

  Digby O’Donnell let the sentience of a thousand beings thrum through his mind. The sensation was agony and ecstasy. It was transcendental and destructive. It was more than he could ever have imagined.

  He knelt in water that lapped, glittering, around his hips, his mind far from his own. Things moved in the sea all around him, bright darts of fish, slowly pulsing clouds of microscopic luminescence, occasionally even a gently pulsing, glassy jellyfish. They seemed to come to him in worship, in deference, drawn by his connection to everything in the writhing network of caves and tunnels, but more importantly, his connection to what lay beneath, out there. And no doubt, his connection was evident in the brightly glowing idol he held in blistered hands. The idol that grew brighter by the moment.

 
The Jade Sea was immense. Even if it had some boundaries in this world, its reach was eternal, through other worlds, other dimensions, glory without end, and Digby’s mind stretched and warped through them all.

  The waters began to roil, as if something gargantuan stirred deep, deep under the soft rise and fall of the surface. Bubbles rose, the lapping waves increased. The mist, writhing like lazy ghosts across the surface of the sea, began to thicken. Its activity increased, as though it were alive, and excited. More clouds built up in the distance and rolled toward the shore as if with purpose.

  Digby’s connection to the strange life underneath increased too, clarity coming ever more quickly. He knew the mind of the Master. The Overlord of All. He knew its corrupted desires, its need. It wanted to consume, to feed on the conscious life of anything that moved in the many realms. It starved. It wanted to devour the minds of individuality wherever it found them. Digby shivered with the deep vibrations of its malevolence, its darkness, its hatred. It yearned for dominion, for control, everything that could ever be under its command, for no reason beyond the removal of agency from everything else. The Overlord simply wanted to be lord over all without any challenge, without any contest. It required the deep, total peace of utter control. And Digby would facilitate that. He would usher that forward. It began here, but it wouldn’t end here. This was only the germination of the seed of the end of everything.

  Digby laughed maniacally, thrilled and horrified. Tears streamed down his face, falling into the Jade Sea with small sparks of green brilliance, his grief and ecstasy becoming part of that great body that stretched beyond worlds.

  The idol grew hotter in his hands, painfully so, threatening to strip the skin and flesh from his bones, but he couldn’t let go. His fingers could no more release the idol than his neck could voluntarily release his head. He raised the idol high, his hands as though on fire, pain radiating down his arms, and he howled. The waters surged and bright green arcs in the sea and sky flashed like lightning.

  37

  Annaki-Akan and his two reluctant companions guided Aston, Tate and Galicia down twisting passages. They seemed to travel for a long time, Akan’s friends regularly chittering at their leader only to be shouted down. The tension rose among them, obvious in their movements, and that only made Aston more nervous.

  “Where are they taking us?” Tate asked suddenly, as if reading his mind.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t trust them. We don’t know they’re our allies just because they let us eat some of their mushrooms.”

  Aston sighed. He couldn’t argue with that assessment. “I’m with you, really. We have no idea what’s going on. But look at our options. We couldn’t go back the way we came, because the tunnels were swarming with mantics. We have no idea where to go if we strike out on our own. So what’s left? I say we let these guys show us whatever it is they want to show us.”

  “What if they control the mantics?” Tate asked. “What if they’ve used them to herd us and now they’re taking us to some ritual cavern to lay us on a slab and carve out our hearts like ancient Mayans or something?”

  Aston laughed. “Well, I guess that’s much the same in the long run as being decapitated by mantics, but we wouldn’t go down without a fight. I reckon we can take these three little guys, don’t you?”

  “Sure. But not if they’re leading us to a cave full of mantics. Or something worse.”

  “However you look at it, we’re no worse off than running for our lives, being chased by mantics. Especially given we have close to no ammo left. What do you have there?”

  Tate lifted the pistol in her hand, looking at it with distaste. “One full clip, but it’s my last. After this, we’re back to the stone age.”

  Aston still had his bloodstone dagger. The three Annaki leading them each carried a bloodstone spear. Stone age indeed. “Well, I guess you treat that last clip like gold and save it as long as you can.”

  “I might save it for myself,” Tate said bitterly. “If we get surrounded by those monsters again, I’m not getting eaten.”

  “I don’t even have a club,” Jen said quietly. “Even if I had the strength to use one.”

  “Here,” Tate said, and handed Jen a bloodstone knife.

  Jen smiled. “Thanks. That actually makes me feel a little better.”

  “Always better to be armed with something.”

  “Where did you get that?” Aston asked.

  Tate grinned. “I lifted it from the Annaki city back there.” She opened her jacket to reveal another tucked into her waistband. “I got two in fact, but you’re not getting your hands on this one. That’s for when my pistol becomes useless.”

  “That’s okay,” Aston said. “I still have one of my own. So at least we all have a knife.”

  Tate laughed, shook her head. “Jesus fucking Christ. We’re bringing knives to a bug fight. We’re no better off than them!” She nodded towards the three Annaki ahead of them.

  “Well, they’ve survived this long,” Aston said, though he didn’t fill himself with much hope by the observation. Not knowing how they had survived so gave him a menacing sense of dread.

  Up ahead he saw a greenish glow, softly pulsing against the tunnel walls. The Annaki began to chirrup and chatter again, obviously getting more nervous by the step.

  “Here we go,” Aston said. “Be ready.”

  “For what?” Jen asked.

  “I have no idea,” Aston admitted. He wondered if they had managed to finally come around full circle and were back at the green cavern. He hoped they were, as he was tempted to immediately club the three Annaki and make a bolt for freedom once he knew where he was again. But then thoughts of Slater came back to his mind and he knew he couldn’t leave without trying to find her. He had to believe she was still alive. “Just be ready for anything, Sam,” he whispered to himself.

  As they moved closer to the brightness, he saw something strange happening to the bloodstone tips of the spears the Annaki carried. He pulled out his own dagger and the phenomenon was repeated there. The strange stone seemed to emanate a dark aura, like shadow growing out from it in a thin shroud, as if the bloodstone deflected the green light like oil pushed aside by water. It was simultaneously beautiful and deeply disturbing. He glanced over at Jen and Tate and they had noticed too, their brows cinched in frowns of concern.

  They pushed on, rounded a slight curve in the tunnel, and saw the mouth of rock open out. Whatever Aston had thought they ought to make ready for, the sight that greeted them stopped him dead. He was most certainly not ready for this. They emerged onto a wide ledge of rock in an inconceivably large space. They had to be out in the open, but that was impossible, because Aston knew they were hundreds of feet under the Antarctic. A storm whipped the air, bright green flashes in swirling clouds above an impossible glittering green sea.

  “What the actual fuck?” Tate shouted, dropping into a defensive crouch, though what she planned to fight was a mystery.

  The three Annaki seemed equally surprised, the two subordinates making furious motions toward the water, shouting and screeching at their leader. Annaki-Akan looked left and right, then up into the writhing sky. His eyes were wider than ever, fear evident on his pale face. Aston thought that perhaps they had anticipated the giant sea, but not the furious conditions. The other two barked seemingly final words at Akan and then turned to flee. As they tried to push back past Aston, Jen, and Tate, Aston realized they might need all the weaponry they could get. He slammed a palm into the chest of one and wrested the bloodstone spear free of its grasp. The other looked left and right, then dropped its own spear at Tate’s feet and they both bolted back down the tunnel. Akan shrilled something high and panicked, but Aston, clutching the stolen spear, paid him no further attention. He had been distracted by figures moving in the distance, down near the shore.

  He pointed. “There’s Slater and Syed!” They were under guard, three armed men and, if he wasn’t mistaken, one of them was Ande
rs Larsen. He had never trusted that muscular so-called geologist.

  Annaki-Akan forgotten, he took off at a sprint, Tate running along beside him, and Jen dragging on what reserves of energy she had left to follow them.

  38

  Slater tried to process what she saw, the impossible sea stretching seemingly forever, but she retained enough self-awareness to keep an eye on Larsen and the others too. Larsen himself apparently verged on panic, eyes darting in every direction as he stepped randomly from foot to foot like a child in desperate need of a bathroom. Olsen and Jensen stood stoic, faces creased in frowns, waiting for something to happen, or someone to issue an order. It seemed their military mindset had locked them into a mental holding pattern. She didn’t think the inertia would last long.

  Larsen turned suddenly to her and closed the distance between them in two fast strides. “Show us the way back to the green cavern! Now!”

  Slater shook her head, tried to work some saliva into her dry mouth. “I can’t. I... I think I must have made a wrong turn. I got lost. Sorry, I have no idea where we are.” Her mind worked quickly, appalled with herself that she was admitting to this truth, but the sight before them had stripped her of the ability for artifice. Would he kill them now, out of fear if nothing else? She had no idea how to process any of this and every new revelation added to the insanity instead of helping to explain it.

  Mist over the ocean thickened, began to creep forward as if grasping for them. Cloudy tentacles wound across the rock, growing stronger, darker, almost as if they had a physical form beyond simple vapor. Slater noticed Olsen had seen them, too. He stared in consternation then half-heartedly swung one booted foot through one questing tendril. He seemed slightly unsatisfied when it broke apart and swirled away like smoke. It seemed to behave differently to how he’d expected. And how Slater herself had expected, for that matter.