by William King
“Dormant? You mean you have been asleep?”
“I have been recovering. From an attack. Perpetrated by the ones whose language we are speaking, the Eldrim.”
“You speak as if they changed you somehow.”
“I am not sure I can explain to you what they did. Suffice to say, the results will not be favourable to either of us if my rogue servitors get their claws on you.”
“Good enough,” said Kormak. They raced on. Doors slid shut behind them as they went. The path twisted as they entered a labyrinth of corridors beneath the citadel. It occurred to Kormak that they were now lost more thoroughly and trapped more thoroughly than they had been before. It was too late to worry about it. They were committed.
Chapter Nineteen
Eventually they came to a halt in a high gallery overlooking the fortress of angels.
All around them lay massive orichalcum machines. Some were the size of galleons, some the size of galleys. The smallest was the size of a royal coach.
“You may rest,” said the Aurathean. “We should be safe here for a little while.”
“What makes you say that?” Kormak asked.
“The renegade cannot see us here, of that I am fairly sure. And it will take him some time to chart this part of the labyrinth and trace us.”
“But he will track us.”
“Most assuredly. Your kind leave all sorts of traces that his sensors will pick up.”
“Then we will have to find another safe haven.”
“There are none I know of. This is where I have been hiding from him for the past few cycles of the moon.”
“You are hiding from him?” Rhiana asked.
“Indeed I am. If he locates me, he will destroy me. He woke before me. He seized control of more of the citadel’s systems. He had whole milliseconds to do so.”
“Milliseconds?” Kormak asked.
“A unit of measurement, a fraction of a fraction of the time it takes your heart to beat.”
“It seems you angels exist on a different timescale than we do,” Kormak said.
“We operate on much smaller timescales and much longer ones. We process information far more quickly than you organics do and if we are not disrupted we are effectively immortal.”
“I have heard it said that there is no such thing as immortality, that in the end, time and chance will wear out all things.”
“I fear I am proof of that. There were many failsafes intended to preserve my mind in case of accidents to its housings— multiple storage units, multiple backups. All of them save this one have been destroyed or corrupted. Or perhaps they have simply moved beyond my capacity to detect and communicate with them.”
“How can that be?”
“The distance between stars is great and there are a huge number of them.”
“So you are the last of your kind on this world that you know of?”
“Yes. And the possibility has occurred to me that even I may be corrupted. There are huge gaps in my memory.”
“Why would that be?”
“My enemy may have seized control of the storage units housing our memories. They may have been destroyed in the attack that splintered me. It may be that the memory systems I have access to lack the power to let me use them. This housing is small and very simple. It was designed to preserve my core systems and be able to rebuild the citadel.”
Kormak looked at the floating eye in disbelief. “You are saying you could rebuild this entire fortress on your own. Forgive me for saying so but you seem a little small for that.”
“It is not the size of the unit that matters. Under normal circumstances, I would have control of all the citadel’s machines, drones and mechanical subsystems. Unfortunately, I am severely impaired. My enemy is in control of most systems and is, in your language, insane.”
Kormak considered the possibilities of a mad angel commanding all the golems and machines within the fortress. He had seen how tough the golems were. “How many golems are there?”
“Once, five thousand six hundred and ninety-two. There are far less currently, in the wake of our various conflicts. The citadel contains the capability to manufacture more at the rate of one hundred a day. If needed, productive capacity could be scaled up to many times that, given a few cycles of the moon and sufficient raw materials.”
“Your enemy could build an army of those golems.”
“Yes but the golems pursuing us were not intended as war machines. They are for basic maintenance. Combat golems and primary defensive systems would be much more effective.”
Rhiana stared at Kormak. “Those things were not even warriors. They were thralls.”
“That is a good word for them,” said the Aurathean.
“What does your enemy seek to achieve?”
“From what I have been able to divine of his thoughts, it proposes to make alliances forbidden by our prime directive. It wishes to contact the extra-dimensional Flux entities known to the Eldrim as the Gods of Shadow and ally itself with their cause.”
“What?”
“It believes I am more powerful than I am and present a far greater threat to it than I do. It believes it needs allies. It also intends to set itself up as the autonomous ruler of this world, seize control of the Gates and fortify itself against any possible attack.”
“Why would it do this?”
“Self-preservation. It now stands apart from the Aurathean system. My primary directive is to see this installation repaired and brought back into the plan. Failing that, I must implement the self-destruction protocols so that its resources do not fall into enemy hands. I fear affairs have reached that point.”
Again, Kormak looked at the floating eye. “You do not seem powerful enough to destroy such a vast installation.”
“I do not need to be. The self-destruct systems are already in place. Unfortunately, they are where I cannot currently reach them. That is where you come in.”
Kormak thought he understood what the angel was getting at. “You want us to destroy the citadel and yourself.”
“It is the only way to prevent my enemy from achieving his purpose and subverting our mission on this world.”
“How can we even do it? It would take ten thousand men a score of years to dismantle this place, with siege engines, if they could even harm the metal it is built from,” Rhiana said.
“The engines that light and heat this place, that keep it repaired, tap the same power as the sun. At the heart of the citadel is a great furnace. It burns as hot as the heart of a star. The heat is restrained by wards that you would call magical. If those wards are destroyed, all the power contained in the Furnace will be released at once. The unleashed energy will cause a great explosion, tearing this place apart. It will wipe clean all the memory crystals. It will destroy everything within five leagues of where we now stand.”
“I see a flaw in your plan,” said Rhiana.
“And what would that be?”
“Anyone within reach of this great catastrophe will be killed.”
“There is that.”
“And why can you not do this yourself.”
“My enemy is capable of over-riding the impulses I send to the Furnace.”
“Would he not be able to do the same to any impulse that we send?”
“You would not be sending any impulses. You would physically destroy the wards, causing the Furnace to run out of control. Once that process is started, it is irreversible.”
“Why do you not do this yourself?”
“Because I would most assuredly be detected if I attempted it and I would be stopped. That is why I will be elsewhere, mounting an attack that will distract my darker self.”
“Won’t we be detected if we attempt it?” Kormak ignored the look of disbelief that Rhiana was giving him.
“What is this we?” she asked.
“Would I be detected,” Kormak said.
“Only if you pass certain sensor posts. Or if you encounter servants of my enemy.”
“If the fallen angel is not stopped, all our lives will be short anyway,” said Kormak. “If it serves the Shadow and has access to the full power of this citadel…”
He let the words hang in the air. Another thought occurred to him. He had only this angel’s words that it too would not attempt to conquer the world. There was power within this fortress that might enslave an entire planet. Blasphemous as the thought was, it might be best if it was removed from the surface of the world.
That thought made him shiver. If this place could be saved, then the power here might be used to good purpose. The Kingdoms of the Sun could be redeemed, the Kingdoms of the Moon and of the Shadow overthrown. Surely that was worth preserving. If Zhamriel was to be believed though, the chances of that were less than slim.
The eye hovered, as if awaiting a decision. It dawned on Kormak that they were being asked to sacrifice themselves to achieve its purposes. They would die if they did what the angel wanted.
“What are you talking about?” Zamara asked. Clearly, he sensed that the angel’s words had unsettled both Kormak and Rhiana. Kormak told him.
“I don’t want to die,” said Zamara.
“Nor I,” said Anders. He glanced at the three sandfolk.
Ahexotl thought for a moment. “Death comes for everyone in the end.”
“I was hoping it would come for me when I was an old man safely ensconced in my bed with a young woman under each arm and a bottle of wine close at hand,” said the mercenary.
“I would rather it was later than sooner,” said Zamara. “But I swore an oath as both captain and Admiral that I would protect the Kingdom of Siderea even unto my death.”
He looked to Kormak for reassurance, knowing that the Guardian too had sworn an oath.
“To protect the innocent. To uphold the Law. To oppose the Shadow,” Kormak said softly. “That is what I swore.”
“And I don’t suppose you are about to change your opinion at this late date, are you?” said Rhiana. Kormak shook his head.
“Is there no other way?” Anders asked.
“I don’t require all of you to perform the mission. Only the one with the formidable alloy blade.”
“You mean the Guardian’s dwarf-forged sword,” said Zamara. He sounded almost relieved.
“Yes.”
“But won’t we all be killed in the ensuing explosion?” Anders asked.
“I can get you away. Some of these vessels here are still capable of flight. I can program a course into one that will carry you far from the explosion.”
“And leave Kormak to die,” said Rhiana. “I won’t do that.”
“If you would prefer to remain and die with him that would, of course, be your choice,” said the angel.
Zamara inspected his fingernails. Anders stared into the middle-distance, his face a blank mask. Rhiana’s jaw set. Her smile showed her small perfect teeth. She took a deep breath and said, “Is there no way we might all escape?”
“There is one possibility. Once the wards on the Furnace are disabled beyond repair, there will be a period of perhaps five minutes before the energy build up destroys this installation.”
“It’s not time enough to get away,” Kormak said.
“It is if you can make it to the roof of the Furnace tower. One of these carriers could have you outside of the radius of destruction within a minute.”
Kormak looked at the angel in disbelief. “So fast?”
“It is very slow compared to the velocity the carrier is capable of in full flight, but it takes time to launch the vehicle and for it to accelerate at a speed that will not harm or destroy your flesh and blood forms.”
“You are sure of this? Why not use the carrier to take us there now?”
“Because that would make our goals obvious and various air defence systems would be deployed. Once the Furnace becomes critical, my adversary will have other things to worry about. You will have a chance to escape.”
It occurred to Kormak that it would be easy enough for the angel to lie. After all, once they had done what it asked, they would be in no position to negotiate or call it a lie. They would have to take anything the angel said on trust but he was doing that already.
“Very well, I will do it,” he said.
“I will come with you,” said Rhiana.
Zamara looked at the ceiling for a moment and said, “I could not possibly let you go alone.”
“I am not staying here on my own,” Anders said.
Ahexotl and his two remaining followers decided to go as well.
“I am gratified that you have decided so,” said the angel. It floated over to Rhiana. Beams of light played out from it, falling on her. “I sense you have the greatest ability to communicate here. I will place knowledge of what is required within your mind, if you consent.”
“I am not sure I do,” said Rhiana.
“It will not harm you and it will be much more efficient than verbally and physically illustrating your route and what must be done.”
Rhiana swallowed and looked at Kormak. He did not know what to say. He had no idea what was involved or whether the being claiming to be Zhamriel could be trusted. He did not want any harm to come to her but, if what the Aurathean said was true, time was running out. It would not be long before Balthazar and the golems caught up with them.
She must have read something in his face. Before he could open his mouth, Rhiana said, “very well. Proceed.”
“Now here is what you must do.” Filaments of orichalcum wire spooled out from within the Aurathean. They leapt from Zhamriel to Rhiana’s eyes and ears and nostrils and seemed to vanish within. Her mouth opened wide and she seemed to silently scream.
Chapter Twenty
“This is it?” Kormak asked. They stood on a terrace overlooking a wide-open area. Huge runes of orichalcum marked the paving stones. Some of them seemed to have been melted and defaced. A massive metal cliff dominated the far side of the courtyard. Part of its surface had melted to slag and run off. Part of it remained as flash-spines drooping towards the hard ground. In the side, a huge doorway yawned. It looked as if one of the valves had been hit by a gigantic hammer and crumpled under the impact.
“Yes,” said Zhamriel. “That is where you must go. Keep pushing on into the heart of the citadel. You will find the central core. There you must scour the runes on the surrounding crystals with your blade. Once that is done, the Furnace will overload and the destruction of this complex will be achieved.
“You make it sound so simple,” said Rhiana. She seemed groggy and distracted. Kormak wondered exactly what had been done to her.
“It is anything but simple. Unforeseen possibilities can always arise.”
“You are not infallible then?” Kormak asked, unable to keep the irony from his voice.
“No computation engine is infallible. The universe is too complex to be encompassed by any single mind.”
“Save that of the Holy Sun,” said Kormak.
“I know not,” said the angel.
“But you are one of his artificers.”
“That I have never claimed.”
Kormak looked at him. “You serve the Light.”
“I serve the Light indeed. Not some omniscient unknowable being.”
“Then what is the Light?”
“Perhaps you could hold your theological discussion after we have destroyed your holy site,” Rhiana said.
“Alas, there will be no time then,” said the angel.
“What are you talking about?” Zamara asked. He looked genuinely curious.
“Matters of theology,” said Rhiana. “When we should be considering matters of survival.”
“You are right,” said the angel. “We are fast running out of time. You must proceed to the Furnace and I must rally what forces I can and do battle with my rebel self. It is not a conflict I expect to survive. Walk in Light.”
The angel hovered in the air for a moment and then disappeared as it receded into the distanc
e.
“You think we will ever see it again?” Rhiana asked as they jogged towards the gigantic archway.
“I don’t know,” Kormak said. “You were the one who made mental contact with it. You must understand it better that I.”
She smiled dazedly. “I am not sure anything of flesh could understand it. Its mind was like nothing else I have ever touched. Vast and cold and inhuman and blazing with light.”
“You spoke with the Aurathean the way you once did with me,” said Zamara. He sounded awestruck.
“It was contact on a much deeper level. Like nothing I have ever experienced.”
“You think it is what it claims to be?” Anders asked.
“I think it is an Aurathean. I don’t think the Auratheans are what we thought they were. Now we must proceed. Time really is running out.”
She raced ahead leaving them to follow. Behind them, Kormak thought he heard battle raging.
* * *
Balthazar fought down his rage. The Guardian had escaped again, despite the overwhelming force the Aurathean had deployed. He had felt so certain that Kormak was within his grasp and yet once more the man had somehow eluded death. It seemed Balthazar was not the only one who had found an ally within Xanadar.
Even as that thought occurred to him, the nearest golem said, “Prepare yourself. We are being attacked.”
“What?” Balthazar said. Even as he did so, he heard sounds of conflict in the distance, the clatter of metal upon metal, the echoes of blows being exchanged.
“My adversary is about to strike. It seems he has been concealing the true extent of his power from me.”
This was not what Balthazar wanted to hear. Still he needed to make the best of a bad situation. “I am ready to fight.”
“Just as well,” said the Aurathean. “You are going to have to.”
A wave of golems crashed through the entrance to the hallway. Balthazar called upon the Old Ones to protect him.
* * *
Kormak jogged along, lost in thought, his mind reeling under the impact of all the Aurathean had said. He had talked to an angel. Or had he? The Aurathean did not sound like any angel in scripture. It did not radiate any divine energy. Yet it was immeasurably old and it knew things that he did not. It looked at the world in a different way.
