Again, Anguhr thought to push such concepts aside. For once, he failed. He did praise the Dark Urge for starting her war of conquest. However, Anguhr wondered if she had a choice. War was now the state of the galaxy. Was it the true state of creation? And thus, did the Dark Urge serve that transcendence? Did she serve War? Should the Dark Urge see this sacrilege in his mind, she would certainly strike him dead. Yet he stood, alive. Before him raged combat. War. Anguhr’s eyes flared brighter. He saw a perfect target for his mood in the distance.
The temple shuddered. Walls around the sacred, tiered pyramid toppled. Stone and steel shattered under the assault of the demons. Claws, weapons’ fire, and the swing of a great axe razed a symbol of faith. The pyramid shrieked and collapsed into a cloud of debris. Dust shot skyward. The destruction of the landmark served little military purpose. It was a robust structure that caught the eye of a giant with questions of his own beliefs. And he held a massive axe. Kellis once built such temples on their home planet and worlds beyond. They became only sentimental landmarks in Kellis history. Now this one became sudden ruins. The rumble of its collapse subsided. Black demon wings and shouts of terror rose to the dark orange sky.
Out from the dust cloud and falling shards strode Anguhr, axe in hand. The double blades left swirling wakes in the column of dust and smoke as it spun slowly in his massive hand. He walked as a colossus through the cracked streets of the alien city. His eyes burned brighter than the Red Giant of his home as he scanned for a strong pocket of resistance.
High explosive shells and plasma lances exploded across his chest. Excellent shots. Futile attempt. Three demons fell to the same cannonade. Anguhr waved another demon squad away from the target. The enemy position lay inside a conic glass tower. Such architecture was atypical for the city. Perhaps it was an embassy for an interstellar ally that would send more forces to avenge this planet’s fall. Anguhr could only hope. More plasma lanced across his torso. He threw his axe in reply. The center of the skyscraper shattered into an explosion of glittering shards and fractured steel. Demons roared adoration and continued their attacks.
Anguhr retrieved his axe from the crew of demon combat engineers assigned for the task. He gripped the weapon by each blade and lamented. When this campaign was over, would he ever feel the embrace of his love again? Could the war truly end? Could War die? His mind drifted to memories of Hell. A distant place. It may be his place of origin, but his home was his ship. When all resistance lay crushed across the galaxy, he was certain all the Generals would be called back home. Perhaps the Dark Urge would bestow another purpose. As explosions occurred around him, he searched his mind for some reason to find solace in returning to Hell.
He became angry with himself. He knew focused thoughts on that darkest, flaming place eased his suppression of the part of his brain directly linked to Hell. The Great Widow appeared next to him. Anguhr’s rage at himself felt as a sharp slap to the spider as she entered his mind.
“I bring you greetings and you give me pain, General Anguhr.”
Anguhr brought his mind to order. Despite enemy fire around his body, he was now engaged in mental combat.
“I am the Destroyer. Perhaps my fellow Generals have become far softer in thought.”
“No.” The Great Widow paused. She opened and closed her jaws revealing her fangs in a quick flash. It was the giant spider’s equivalent to shaking her head in disgust. “I am forced to endure you all. Powerful children making war with demons. No respect for your elders.”
“Then go and leave me and my demons to make war.” Anguhr took his axe by the handle and looked across the burning city for an adversary to focus on.
“I know you love war, Destroyer. I know you block me for fear I will call you home as parents call their young. You feel victory is the greatest evil, combat the greatest joy. Yet, we must put aside what quickens our hearts for the greater pleasure of fulfilling our duty. Your ultimate love is to she who gave you war. Your great mother, the Dark Urge, has need of you.”
More cannon fire exploded against Anguhr. This time pain bit through his armor and into his chest. He cheered the marksmen. He cheered the charge of his enemy, though his cries caused several of the hovering, armor-plated ovals that attacked him to break ranks.
“An armored division! A courageous act to assault me head on. Do you not love this enemy Widow?”
“General Anguhr, the Dark Urge—”
Anguhr was on the move. His demons had already opened fire on the flying armor unit. More demons swooped in to join their bellowing General as he charged. Anguhr swiftly fixed his axe to his back to free his hands as the valiant Kellis defenders continued their fire. Anguhr tore up the remnants of the city before him and hurled the shards and wreckage at the floating armor. Their cannon became more chaotic as each gliding tank maneuvered between the chunks of Anguhr’s hurled avalanche. The section of city in front of Anguhr became a rolling wave of rubble. The Kellis armor continued to attack and fire until a mountain of crushing debris engulfed all their machines.
Anguhr stood still. His armor cooled. He enjoyed the smell of his singed skin as it healed. He sighed. The protesting hiss of the Great Widow met his hears.
“General, the Dark Urge has need of you. You are to perform a new mission for her glory.”
“Another campaign? Good.” Anguhr’s laugh echoed among the exploding shells and sharp report of energy lances as a dull roar. The Great Widow’s next words killed his joy.
“This mission is a personal service for the Dark Urge, Destroyer. If her countenance would not destroy all she sees beyond Hell, she would tell you herself. She would spare you destruction, General. I am a vessel to her—”
“What is this mission?” Anguhr demanded. “Where?”
“You are to return to the home system and assault the hidden planet that orbits Old Jove: Asherah. The other Generals will join you. Together you will destroy Asherah and its Eden, and if necessary, Old Jove. But you alone will strike first. But you will not do this with your entire horde. Leave your forces to finish your current campaign. Take a band of your strongest demons and break through Asherah’s walls. Then gather knowledge on what power lies beneath. This, the Dark Urge commands.”
Anguhr suppressed a growl. He cloaked his brain with mental camouflage. He flooded his senses with images and odors of the battle and the pain from his cooling wounds. Then he focused his deeper mind on other thoughts. Asherah was mere legend. It was a symbol for alien resistance, a clever barb to stab doubt in Hell’s supremacy over the stars. Some stories claimed it was the hidden stronghold of allied of warlords still unconquered. Others said it was the first planet of their ancient empire lost, unknown, but still whole and free from Hell. It was all a lie. To think such a world could exist in Hell’s own system was blasphemous even to Anguhr. For what reason would the Dark Urge send him against a myth? Why not one of the other Generals? Anguhr felt their campaigns had been bloodless compared to his own. Still, they were Generals from Hell. Anguhr needed to consider if one or more of their fist prints stamped this false quest. Yet, even they could not trick the Great Widow. Certainly they would not defy the Dark Urge. Unless they had some revelation of their own about the presence of War.
Anguhr pushed the thought aside quickly. His ire grew. He saw the Great Widow’s image twitch. Her eyes were like dark glass beads. They reflected the lifeless metal of Hell where she was in true space. There was no indication in the spider’s eyes of what she saw in her own mind. Her gaze was ever accusing or indifferent. It was a solitary predator’s unblinking, constant stare out for prey. She was as adept at sensing vibration in thought as she was in silk. Anguhr’s rising ire made the spider recoil. She raised her forelegs and calipers in defense. This pleased Anguhr. He quelled his laughter, but not his smile.
“That’s an odd position for one who rests beside Hell’s throne.” Anguhr taunted. “Or, perhaps, it is your normal stance.”
“You mock me, brat?” The Great Widow hissed. “Yo
u dare come close to mocking your sovereign?”
“I am a warrior. I have conquered a galactic arm and more for Hell’s infernal glory. What would you, spider, know of magnifying the power of the Dark Urge compared to the campaigns of one of her Generals? Especially mine.”
“Nothing.” The Great Widow relaxed. “You are a warrior, first and last, General Anguhr. And thus your ruler has chosen you for this historic mission. There has been no campaign for the Dark Urge more important than this mission. So I am certain you will rejoice she has chosen you.”
The Great Window sat and stared as she awaited Anguhr’s compliant response.
“All praise the Dark Urge.” Anguhr said with an almost believable tone of enthusiasm.
“You may shut me out again when I leave you—that interesting power is yours, and I am glad it is yours alone.” The Great Widow paused as if she now protected a thought.
Anguhr smiled at her words.
“But tell me when you arrive by the Red Giant,” The Great Widow continued, “so that the Dark Urge may rejoice at your obedience.”
If a spider’s face could show triumph, Anguhr was certain he would see it now. It was as he planned. The Great Widow would leave and report what she desired to the Dark Urge. Once free of her, Anguhr would act as he saw fit. The Great Widow vanished.
Anguhr raised his axe. “Uruk!”
“Lord Destroyer!” Uruk flew to face his revered General. “Command me, and it shall be done!”
“This butchery, here, is over. For now.” Anguhr folded his massive arms. Their pressure on his chest plate made his skin sting below it. “Recall the horde! I want every demon in its rack in one orbit.”
Anguhr knew Uruk would be confused but would comply without question.
“As you command, General!” Uruk saluted. He then soared across the burning city. The Field Master repeated Anguhr’s orders as blood thinning screeches and barks. The horrific sounds repeated along the demonic chain of command until they echoed across the planet.
Anguhr was confused, himself. The Dark Urge would have him assault Eden like an assassin. He was a General. Certainly the mother of Hell and galactic annihilation understood this. She had created all Generals. She must know he would take all his power wherever he was sent. If he found and crushed Asherah, the Dark Urge would care little of how he brought her victory. And if this was some plot beyond her will, then he would have his horde to fight her betrayers. He watched streams of demons soar towards his ship. It appeared as a brilliant, red moon in orbit. Only a few pieces of defeated ships still burned like meteors across the sky. Anguhr wondered what he would see in flames near the Red Giant. Perhaps he had reason to rejoice in returning to Hell, after all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gin sensed an error. He functioned well, as always. His design was nigh flawless. It was the adaptation of sentience and its permutation of ethics that caused his internal conflict. Gin’s alarm involved Zaria, and perhaps the fate of creation. Zaria stood on a hill’s slope that faced the region of Eden she typically avoided. It was where the creatures similar to naked sheep lived. They had evolved from a line that also gave rise to powerful beings. These siblings ate grass and did little else. Gin knew that thoughts of divergence and destinies occupied Zaria’s mind. She arrived on Asherah as sunlight. Now she looked across it as a gleaming, female warrior.
Gin chose a form other than the eagle to speak with Zaria. He became her male twin. The choice was ether ironic or apt. His concern over his coming agon with his friend made him think that he understood the perspective of the grazers. Their design shed awareness of the universe and its conflicts in favor of a placid life. Yet, without Zaria and Gin, the naked sheep could not survive. Creation itself was under threat. At least some awareness could tell you when to run. Zaria was preparing to stand and fight the greatest and darkest of all powers. Gin did not eat, but he wondered what grass tasted like just before he spoke.
“Zaria, my friend.” Gin said. He rather liked the sound of his new voice. He then focused on his concerns. “I have helped you. The error or the glory is also mine. But I must note that creating your warriors is similar to the genesis of the Keepers. From that example the Dark Urge bore her Generals and demon hordes. She also did so out of fear.”
“Fear?” Zaria turned to Gin. “I have no fear. I act from need. I have made a shock force for a single mission. I have not raised armies of creatures who lust for conquest and the destruction of life itself, all born out of fear.”
“I could stand to correct my words,” Gin said. “But my concern is for life, and for our world.”
“I know. You are ever the caretaker.” Zaria smiled. “And if not for Asherah, for Eden, there may be little hope. You gave me a safe harbor, long ago. Now, I wish to see Eden survive. I wish to save life. All life. To do that, I must risk some of it away from this verdant, safe place.”
Gin found his new form brought certain autonomic acts to communication. He sighed.
“If your plans cannot be altered, I can augment them.” Gin said.
“How?” Zaria asked. Curiosity contorted her luminous face.
“I am coming with you.” Gin answered.
Zaria raised her hands for emphasis and drew a breath to speak. Gin shook his head side to side in another autonomic reaction. He then took Zaria’s hands.
“No.” Gin said. “This, too, is set.”
“It would be the first time you have ever left Asherah!” Zaria said. She now felt the dread of new, unseen concerns. “It would be the only time its machines or ecology have been without a sentient caretaker. Are you certain balance—all—will be maintained?”
“I am,” Gin said with a confident smile and nod. “All will function adequately. Even if we do not return, Asherah and its living charges will continue.”
“If we do not return—if we fail, it will all end.” Zaria slipped her hands gently from Gin’s grip and lowered them. “If demons ever break into Asherah and set foot in Eden is when all life dies.”
“Then we should make every effort to return.” Gin added.
“And so you see the logic of my warriors, old friend.” Zaria fixed a steady gaze at Gin.
“I only hope they are not necessary,” Gin said.
“As do I, Gin. As do I.”
The view had changed. The Great Widow saw not a massive star, but endless black. This sight was more pleasing to her. It was a Hell within Hell. The space was as vast as a planet’s interior, or a mere crack in a wall too thin to be noticed. It was her sanctuary. She found the place and hid in it when the Builders transformed a world into the Forge. It remained her private sanctum when the Forge functioned to build the Iron Work, and now when the Forge was Hell.
The spider turned and slowly descended on a line of silk deep into the featureless black. She came to a vast expanse of other lines and innumerable fates. Fate was an end, a fastened point. There was no destiny. Khans would disagree at the height of their power. They seemed fated to rule creation. Hell objected. Azuhr shattered Khan worlds, fleets, and cut down most of them. The war continued with Sutuhr. In his youth, he was so devoted to serving his mother he had no contact with those he annihilated beyond the point of his weapons and rage. All adversaries existed solely to be destroyed for the glory of his creator. His horde and scythe obliterated all that remained of the Khan’s fractured and then feudal empires. Their traces were merely ionized ash. His extreme devotion projected the will of the Dark Urge farther across the stars. Though he did not know it, his destruction and shunning of all but Hell was his greatest defense. His life proved long. His devotion, still unquestioned. Or so the spider hoped.
No end could be truly foretold, despite careful plans woven by the living. A life’s path had many possible fates. The end came after a multitude of difficult choices and the endurance of complicated actions. Those actions were in turn crossed by many lines that went unseen, even by those with great power. One such line involved Tanuhr. He had proven the lesson that li
fe grows and adapts, or dies. Individuals can grow, adapt, and then at times must die. Tanuhr was never meant to decipher and certainly not read a Khan database. The Dark Urge despised Khans so greatly that no connection between her and them survived in Hell’s history. Then as new events became history, Tanuhr encountered an old Khan ship adrift in space purely by chance. That ship’s history abstracts revealed the connection between Khans and Hell. Perhaps it revealed that the Dark Urge had emotions, even though she saw many emotions as weakness and hid them under fire and violence.
The Great Widow saw the intersections of crossing lines and their ends in her web. She knew lines of existence were tangents, and not waves. Waves were aspects of forces that also flowed across her web. She could twitch them just as she did her lines and project force across the entanglement of spacetime. It was how she spoke to Generals far afield, and how she destroyed Tanuhr when he deployed his ship’s main sail. Had he shared the information, the power of one or more Generals might slip from the Dark Urge’s control. In the mildest scenario, that would collapse the outward war. Worse, it may focus the war back on Hell. If the Dark Urge went deeper into madness, or if she could somehow die, the Great Widow would die. Fate, then, was for Tanuhr to die.
The spider always found a way to survive, even in the company of almighty evil. The detonation of Tanuhr’s ship disrupted the local star whose radiation blasted the powerless Khan ship and fried its data forever. The spider mused that the dead General would appreciate the efficiency of one act solving both problems. The Great Widow protected herself by protecting Hell. The Generals were to conquer the galaxy beyond its fires. The spider watched over them, sensing their thoughts in her web. Mostly, they acted as good children of their infernal parent. If they strayed from their path, the only discipline the Great Widow had was annihilation. Only Anguhr could block her mind. The Great Widow wondered if she had not inserted the strand that linked them carefully enough when he was young. Or, Anguhr was simply more powerful than his fellow Generals. He was certainly different. And now he was missing.
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