by Tim Paulson
Harald waved his hand dismissively. “Don't mind him. He's a fanatic, a relic of an ancient race of know nothings who would stop at nothing to denigrate real achievements. If his kind had their way we'd all be living in grass huts eating roots and nuts!”
Vex sputtered, his red eyes flaring with anger. He pointed a single gray finger at Harald. “All we wanted was a little consideration, a little thought about what we were doing before we did it!”
“Nonsense! The Salmu were terrorists. No more, no less. Where was I, ah yes. To answer your question Smith, one sorcerer, one of ours I might add, said she'd figured out how to travel to La'atsu and live to tell the tale,” Harald said.
“And did she?”
“We don't know. She went in but she never came back,” Harald said with a shrug.
“Which was shortly before your kind took too much and destroyed it all,” Vex said.
“I'm sorry but I can't agree with you there. The truth is we don't really know what happened. It was during the great war. It could have been anything. Your Salmu brethren had just about lost the war at that point as I recall. You might even have done it Vex... what crime did they bind you for?”
Vex ignored the question, preferring to fiddle with his machine.
“You're both criminals?”
“Of course! Do you think I hang about wearing this fake body because it's fun?” Harald glanced over at Vex. “He seems to be enjoying himself but I've never understood his kind and their fascination with creepy dead things. The point is our world is gone now, thousands of years gone. However, somehow, it seems the connection to La'atsu is back. I have no idea how that's even possible.”
“The thing is Sybile Coryx Thibauld disappeared over three thousand years ago. Did she make it to La'atsu? Probably not. And even if by some slight chance she did, the woman would be long dead by now.”
“Thibauld,” noted Henri. “Isn't that his name?” He pointed at Vex.
“I'm sorry?” Harald asked.
“She's my sister,” Vex said from across the room.
There was a cracking noise from the machine. A sound like a voice. Vex became frantic as he scanned the many knobs and levers that studded the machine.
Harald jumped up from the table and ran over, his white cloak billowing out behind him. Henri followed after a quick glance at his boy who was currently shoving a thick slice of cake into his face with stubby little fingers.
“Stand aside you fool. Let me adjust it,” Harald said.
Vex didn't fight him or saying anything but Henri could see from his wide red eyes that though the black wizard had hoped to make contact he hadn't been fully prepared for success. He looked stricken, like a man who's seen his own shade in a dream.
Harald adjusted the device's controls. The crackling ceased.
“Call to her again,” he said.
Vex leaned forward. “Sybile? Are you there?”
“Vex?” A voice from the machine said, far clearer now, recognizably a woman.
Harald adjusted a few more levers.
“Yes! Sybile... it's your brother. How are you? Are you well?”
“Of course I am,” the voice said. “Why wouldn't I be?”
Harald and Vex exchanged astonished glances.
“I... uh... I'm so glad to hear that,” Vex said. Henri could see tears of blood forming at the corners of his eyes. What kind of creature cried blood?
“What are you bothering me for? I'm still not happy about what you said,” Sybile's voice said.
Henri spread his palms, silently asking why Vex's sister would still be angry with him after three thousand years.
Vex covered the device. “I'd completely forgotten about it... We had an argument before she left,” Vex said.
“Three thousand years and she's still mad? What did you say?Fascinating woman this one.” Harald made a disgusted face.
Rather than respond Vex stared ahead, wiping away tears with one bandaged hand. Henri could see older dried out dots of red there.
“I don't think she knows,” Vex said.
“Could there be some difference in the flow of time?” Harald asked, one gray hand stroking his shining obsidian chin.
“There must be,” Vex said. “Sybile, it's been... a while since you went in there.”
“Really? How long?” She asked.
“Three thousand one hundred and seventy six years,” Vex said.
“You're joking!” Sybile said.
“No.”
There was a long pause.
“Fascinating,” Sybile said.
“I need you to come out. I have...” Vex paused, glancing at Harald. “Things to do and I need your help. Please, come home.”
“I can't,” the voice said. “I'm sorry.”
“What? Why?” Vex replied.
“My experiments aren't complete. There's so much more to learn. I can't possibly leave now. I'm sorry you'll have to handle it without me.”
“No! Please Sybile, you don't understand... I'm not in a very good situation here,” Vex said. To Henri Vex's words had the shamed tone of a confession.
“Oh don't tell me you went and did something stupid and now you're bound,” the voice said. Sybile did not sound happy.
Vex sighed.
Harald chuckled.
“For how long?” Sybile said.
“A long time,” Vex said.
“Well I'm sorry but I just can't. I... Oh...”
“What? Are you alright?” Vex said.
“Something's happening,” she said.
Henri noticed that the spider creature on top of the white crystal podium was waving its arms frantically.
“I think your friend is trying to tell you something,” Henri said, pointing to the spider's furious movements.
“Ugh.” Harald's grey body shuddered. “Salmu keep the most disgusting familiars.”
Vex ignored him and addressed the spider. “What do you mean we're losing power? Why?”
“There's... another... gate. Poorly made... dangerous,” Sybile said. There was a lot of static now.
“We're losing her!” Vex said.
Henri had the sudden realization that the wizard had forgotten to ask about Adem. He'd promised to ask.
“Vex! What about my son! Can she save him?” Henri said.
Vex seemed to ponder this for a moment but then he put the device up to his face. “Sybile, I have a boy here with nineteen spirits of La'atsu trapped inside of him. I have bound them, he is stable for now. Is it possible to free them and save the boy?”
There was no response, only static. Henri leaned in, trying to hear.
“Sybile? Did you hear me?” Vex said.
The spider thing was jumping up and down and making a squealing noise. It ran down from the pedestal heading straight for them.
“Yes... possible... if,” came the reply from the machine, broken up by static.
“Smith! Get your boy and run. NOW!” Harald shouted. His blue eyes were fixed on the gate which was now shaking violently as golden flames belched from its center.
Chapter 15
"For the safety of all concerned, keep all human contact with veil powder strictly limited. Contrary to popular myth among the lower classes, consumption of the powder results only in violent death."
-Veil company instructional manual, 1552
Doctor Blutstein ran down the corridor at the Veil facility flanked by two of his top technicians.
“What exactly is the situation?” he asked the tech to his right, a mousy woman with short bobbed brown hair and dual layered spectacles, one set for correcting her vision and the other with green veil lenses for seeing the unseen.
“The aperture size dropped twenty percent several minutes ago but its been stable since that time,” she said as they waited for the final door to open so they could step into the control room.
“Did we do anything, anything at all prior to it happening?” the doctor said.
“No doctor. We haven't touched th
e controls in over two hours.”
“Was there any warning?”
“None. We didn't even realize anything had happened until someone in powder production called us and said some of the containers weren't full.”
The great metal door finished its mechanical unlocking sequence and opened. The doctor rushed inside.
“I don't understand sir,” the other tech said. “This isn't supposed to happen with this kind of engine right?”
The doctor arrived at the control panel above the floor. Through the glass could be seen the veil piercing array at the core of the engine. The circle of light at its center was now noticeably smaller. However the conveyor was still moving. That was a relief at least. A few empty containers was far better than a room of veil horrors.
“You slowed the conveyor?”
“Yes. It's how we know we lost twenty percent. That's how much we had to slow the conveyor before it was filling all the containers,” she said.
The doctor shook his head angrily. “No, no, no! This won't do!”
“I'm sorry sir,” she said, lowering her head.
The doctor shook his head again. “Not you. You did the right thing. The problem is we won't meet our quota,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Mr. Buckley won't stand for it.”
“What can we do sir? If we wait, it may return to the way it was,” the first tech said, pushing her double lenses up her nose.
“We don't have time for that. We're going to engage more crystals and widen the opening. That's what this machine was built for after all.”
“Yes sir.” She opened the bronze communication tube labeled 'all' and leaned forward. “Prepare to engage crystals ten, eleven and twelve.”
Out on the floor technicians in thick suits of gold leafed leather emerged from their stations and began turning wheels to bring the next three focusing arrays into place. When they were aligned and locked each tech signaled their task was complete.
She looked to the doctor.
He nodded.
“Engage them in five, four, three, two...”
“Engage array number Ten,” the doctor said.
“Engage ten!” she said into the tube.
A thickly clad technician with large veil goggles stepped forward and pulled the lever that extended crystal array ten into place. He then raised his hand signaling the task was complete.
“Ten engaged,” she said.
Through his own veil goggles the doctor could see the aperture move. It seemed to open a bit at first but then it collapsed back to its previous size. Clearly it would require more than that to overcome whatever force was causing the issue.
“Engage eleven,” he said, stroking his forehead with the handkerchief, as much to sooth himself as draw away the copious amounts of sweat that coated his bald head. “And stand by to turn up the conveyor if the aperture enlarges.”
“Eleven, engage,” the tech said into the bronze tube. The next crystal set was placed, a hand raised. Again the aperture pulsed, vomiting a slight burst of energy as it tried to open further before falling back to its current size.
There was more unevenness and movement now at the fringe of the machine. They were getting somewhere but it wasn't enough.
Just one more. They were about to defeat whatever it was that was holding them back, he could feel it.
“Let's not give it time to respond. Do them all!” he said. There was some doubt in his mind, some trepidation, but he swept it aside. Nothing that could happen here was as terrifying as the idea of having to report to that maniac Buckley that they wouldn't make their forecast production. The very thought of it caused his sphincter to tighten involuntarily.
“Attention all. Engage twelve, but also engage all remaining crystals. Repeat, engage twelve, thirteen, fourteen and fifteen immediately.”
Technicians swarmed like ants, running to take up their positions, push the crystals into alignment and engage them.
The effect was immediate. Yellow material similar to flames, if fire moved like chunks of a thick viscous fluid, ejected from the mouth of the machine as the aperture vibrated faster and faster until the entire room was shaken by a loud bang and an enormous burst of golden light.
It was too bright to see anything, the doctor held his kerchief over his eyes to shut it out. Several technicians on the floor had been blown off their feet by the force of the blast.
When the light subsided the doctor looked. Once again the aperture was fully open, more than fully, it was now wider than he'd ever seen it.
“Quickly, turn up the conveyor!” he ordered.
“I'm trying, it's not working!” yelled the female technician.
The doctor pushed her aside. “Get out of my way!”
He pulled the conveyor lever back and then jammed it all the way forward with all of his might.
“It won't work!” she said. “Look! It's been blown from its track!”
The girl was right. The conveyor had been smashed by the explosion, it hung limply to the side of its intended mechanical track. The containers and plates of veil absorbing material were now scattered across the floor of the room.
“Oh no. Oh God no,” the doctor said.
Screams echoed from below as veil demons found and entered their prey. There was only one option now, they had to shut it down, no matter what Buckley would say.
The doctor yanked his startled technical assistant to her feet. “The emergency disengage. We need to do it now!” he howled at her. Currents of bright yellow were already bumping up against what little protection their shield device afforded. The little black device with the twisting horns and the glowing purple symbol would not last forever. It could only block the approach of one or two veil demons but no more than that. Already his goggles could see dozens of them swarming the room below. They'd be lucky if the device lasted more than a few seconds.
“What do I do?” she asked, voice cracking with terror.
“I've got to crank this until it locks. Then you release that catch there. See it? It's large and-”
“Bright yellow. Yes, I see it!” she cut in.
“Good!” he said and began cranking but the mechanism was no longer as smooth as it had been when they'd tested it months ago. That was the problem with a facility with metal machines located so close to the ocean. The salt air must have fouled it.
“I need help!” he yelled, turning his attention to those who ought to have been around him but all were gone. Everyone had fled except for himself and his assistant.
“Come here. It won't move for me!” he said, trying to pry it free. The faint glowing globe that marked the end of the protector's range now had nearly a dozen yellow globs of energy beating against it, trying to get to them.
It would fail any second now. Why wouldn't the damned thing move? Where was that girl? Why wasn't she helping him?
Lexa had already fallen to the floor, clawing at her skin. They'd gotten in, they'd gotten to her.
Fear gripped him and he ran from the control room toward the great double doors but they were already sealed.
“No! Let me out!” He beat his fists against it. “Damn you fools!” He yelled.
Despite the many screams from the room behind, a sort of calm came over him. Absently his hands reached for the brooch around his neck. At its center a tiny amber cameo bore the likeness of his darling little girl.
“I'm sorry Vivian,” he said softly.
He felt it happen then and all he knew was pain.
* * *
Henri gasped awake. Everything hurt. The last thing he could remember was running as hard as he could toward Adem.
His face stung. He touched it, saw no blood. That was something at least.
“I'm sorry. I slapped you,” said a voice he didn't recognize. A very solid looking young man stood over him, wisps of a beginning beard curling on his chin, he had a cautious look of concern on his face.
“I was hoping you'd wake up after
the first one, but it took a few.”
“Where's Adem?” he said. His chest felt tight as if all the air had been sucked out of him and held out.
“The little boy?” He's fine, he's right here,” said the young man.
“Daddy? My cake's gone!” From his tone and the fact that he was fretting about missing cake, Henri could tell his son was alright. He let out a sigh of relief.
“What happened? Who are you?” Henri said, trying to sit up.
His back smarted, but it seemed he was otherwise unharmed. As was Adem who was currently sitting on the floor not far away playing with something floppy.
“I'm Liam. We were watching when that big glowing thing exploded like a powder grenade.” Liam said, awe in his voice. “You were thrown against that table over there. It's a good thing you're so big. Looks like you weren't even really hurt.”
“Oh it hurts kid, trust me,” Henri said. The table that had held their feast was now a ruin, rammed up against one of the pillars at the edge of the room. The rest of the place looked like a battlefield. Debris from the machine was strewn all over, several chunks of it had embedded themselves in the walls and the ceiling. At the center where the device had been was a charred smoking crater.
Nearby Adem made a noise like an explosion. Then he dropped whatever he was playing with on to the floor with a plop and giggled.
“God damn it!” Henri said as he stood up and kicked a piece of rubble. It spun off across the room.
“What?” asked Liam.
“I thought... “ Henri sighed. Perhaps the black wizard had been lying. If not his last hope to save his son was now gone, blown into a million pieces. “I don't know what I thought,” he finished.
Adem giggled again.
“What do you have there?” Henri said as he rubbed his aching back and neck, checking every part of his head for blood.
“This!” Adem said as he held up what could only be one of Vex's bandaged gray skinned hands. The hand terminated in a bloody stump just past the wrist.
