by Lizzy Bequin
Just as impossibly, I follow.
CHAPTER 28: CLARE
The tall, narrow corridors are dim and dingy. The floor is cold under my bare feet. Walls of scarred and pitted metal disappear high overhead into deep shadows criss-crossed with walkways and gantries where alien figures peer at us with glowing eyes.
I shiver at the thought of spending the rest of my life in this awful place.
Finally, the long corridor opens into a massive central chamber.
In the center, seated atop a mechanical throne, is a corpulent alien surrounded by a small retinue of other figures.
This has to be Putrude. He’s even more repulsive than I expected.
Enormous lumps of sagging yellow flesh bulge over the sides of his throne. His belly is lined with dark, diseased-looking veins and dotted with fluid-filled boils. In contrast to his obese body, his arms are almost insect like in their thinness. His long nails are perfectly manicured. He is smoking a hookah, his brown, rotten fangs gnawing at the end of the tube.
There are other figures surrounding him—more of the ratmen, and one muscular purple alien, but I pay them little mind. As much as I want to, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from my hideous husband-to-be.
Before we’ve even come to a stop in front of his throne, I’ve already made up my mind to kill myself the first chance I get.
Putrude leans forward, taking a pull from his gurgling hookah. His eyes, gleaming with malicious intelligence, move over our little group and fall at last on me.
Those evil eyes widen with surprise, a rotten grin splits his face, and green smoke oozes out between the gaps in his jagged teeth.
“Putrudinex greelassah!,” the catman purrs, making a deep and ostentatious bow.
When he rises again, he gestures toward me with a sweeping gesture, and says something in alien.
The gesture is unnecessary. Putrude’s eyes are already locked on me.
The crime lord’s throne rises off the floor, and I realize it’s not a throne at all, but a cybernetic chassis with eight arachnid limbs that click against the cracked tiles of the floor as he prowls toward me.
Instinctively, I try to back away, but the droid, Null-99, presses a cold metal hand against my back, blocking my retreat.
Putrude shifts his fleshy, diseased torso forward to appraise me, raking his eyes over my body as he takes another draw from his hookah and slowly bleeds the green smoke out of his flared nostrils.
“T’sunoi,” he drawls approvingly. “T’sann t’sunoi…”
He belches, and his humid breath hits me in the face like a stinky punch—foul smoke and rotten meat. I gag. I would probably barf if my stomach weren’t already empty.
As I look the repulsive alien over, something occurs to me. His whole spidery lower body seems to be a bionic prosthetic. Hopefully that means he won’t be able to…do that thing that I don’t even want to mention.
Lord Putrude notices me eyeing him, and I think he takes it the wrong way because his grin grows even wider.
He opens his mouth, and sticks out a tongue that is long and pink and tubular. There is a small hole at tip that is oozing slime.
“Lord Putrude is displaying his mating appendage,” Null-99 informs me.
What?
His mating appendage?
That freaking nasty-ass tongue is his…dick?
Oh hell no. This time, I really do think I’m going to puke, and I even start to gag at the disgusting sight in front of me.
Putrude simply chuckles, apparently unbothered by how obviously repulsed I am by him. In fact, he almost seems to enjoy it. He says something to the catman, then gestures dismissively at the tall purple figure standing in the background.
The catman says something in his alien language, and this gets Putrude’s attention. The crime boss skitters over to the feline bounty hunter, thankfully giving me a break from his nauseating stench.
What happens next is difficult for me to follow, since everyone is talking in a language I don’t understand. Putrude looks around our little group with confusion on his face and asks the catman a question. A back and forth ensues, and I see Putrude gradually getting angrier, while the catman keeps his polite, obsequious tone, even though he’s obviously getting annoyed too. I sense Szelina growing tense beside me.
A fight is brewing.
“There is some confusion about the payment,” the bounty hunter droid informs me in a low voice. “Putrude’s original deal was with Rogar. The contract stipulated that upon delivery of the target—namely, you—he would release Rogar’s slave brother to him.”
All this time, I’ve been so focused on Putrude, that I haven’t looked closely at the other aliens present in the spacious chamber. As the argument goes on, however, Putrude moves back to the center of the room and shouts angrily as he gestures toward the purple man.
I gasp with shock.
The figure is the spitting image of Rogar.
Okay, maybe that’s not exactly right. For one thing, this alien’s scales are purple, not teal. And his face is slightly less angular than Rogar’s, slightly more youthful. But the resemblance is uncanny.
So this is Rogar’s brother? I think Rogar said his name is Kozar. Rogar told me he was a slave, but I didn’t realize that it was Putrude who owned him.
Kozar’s hands are bound in shackles and hooked to a fat iron chain attached to the floor.
“Of course, our captain has little use for a Mezentine slave,” the droid goes on behind me. “He is requesting a more traditional form of remuneration—in other words, money. Putrude, understandably, is upset, as he acquired the slave for a not inconsiderable fee, specifically for the purpose of engaging Rogar for this task.”
I guess the possibility of simply setting Rogar’s brother free never crossed these assholes’ minds.
But it just crossed mine.
As I watch the catman and Putrude argue, flames of rage begin growing in my chest and coursing through my veins with each pump of my heart.
The pricks are talking about me and Rogar’s brother like we’re just a couple of pieces of meat, and it’s making me pretty pissed off. In fact, it’s making me mad enough to kill.
But I’ve got an even better idea.
Okay, actually, it’s probably a terrible idea, but what have I got to lose at this point? Besides, I promised myself I would commit suicide the first chance I got.
This will be even better.
Everyone is so distracted by the escalating argument that they don’t see my hands flash down to Szelina’s hip and yank her blaster pistol from its holster. By the time everyone notices, it’s too late, I’ve already raised the weapon and aimed it.
My target isn’t Putrude. It’s not the catman. It’s not even Szelina, as much as I’d like to vaporize that jealous bitch.
My target is Rogar’s brother, Kozar.
More specifically, the chain going from his wrist shackles to the floor.
Please God, don’t let me miss.
I manage to squeeze off one shot before all hell breaks loose.
CHAPTER 29: ROGAR
All around us, the shadows give way to a faint mist—glowing motes dancing against a backdrop of darkness. It is so beautiful to watch that it takes me longer than it should to realize these swirling dots are stars.
No, they are entire galaxies.
As Babu leads the way, we travel deeper into the clouds of cosmic dust, down and down until one of these galaxies, which was a no bigger than a grain of sand just a moment ago, now surrounds us completely. I can make out individual suns and even the infinitesimally small planets dancing around them.
And everything, every miniscule point of light is linked by an immaterial network of threads. It is as though we are walking on a gossamer pathway of shimmering light.
“What is this?” Lorka pants beside me. “Where are we?”
I think I know. At first I had only suspected, but it seemed impossible.
“I think we are in the Webway, Lor
ka. The star roads that the Progenitors once used to traverse their vast empire.”
“Do you mean Babu and its friends are…” Lorka lets his question trail off.
“I don’t think so,” I answer. “I don’t think they are Progenitors themselves. I think they are just another creation of the Progenitors. Super-advanced synthetic beings designed to be servants.”
“The Webway,” Lorka huffs beside me. “Rogar, do you realize what this means? This discovery will make us rich. Filthy, stinking rich. Why, we’ll live like kings, old friend. Scratch that—we’ll live like gods.”
I turn toward him silently. He senses my glare, even through the visor of my helm.
“After we rescue your girlfriend, of course,” he stammers. “First things first.”
So far, Babu has been leading the way along the strange shimmering corridors between the stars, but now the transparent being stops, as if waiting for me to do something.
“What now?” Lorka asks.
“Babu doesn’t know where to go,” I mutter.
Of course. How could he? My heart sinks. I look around us at the milky swirl of stars, not knowing where the hell to go. Though I’ve traveled across space a thousand times, I’ve always used computerized charts and automatic navigational systems. I’ve never seen the galaxy from this angle before.
“I don’t know where to go either,” I say dejectedly.
But Lorka just laughs.
“Well then, it’s a good thing you brought old Acquisitor Lorka along.” He taps a stubby purple finger against his temple, just beside one of his silver-capped horns. “Half my job as a Guild Acquisitor is spent with my nose buried in star charts. Hell, I’ve got a veritable atlas up here, boys. Follow me.”
CHAPTER 30: CLARE
The blaster pistol bucks in my hands. There is a flash of sparks and bits of iron as the chain binding Rogar’s brother in place shatters.
It worked.
For all of a nanosecond, I feel like the biggest badass in the galaxy.
Then everyone else’s weapons come out, and Lord Putrude’s throne room erupts into chaos. The sound of blaster fire is deafening as it echoes through the chamber. Red bolts of energy streak around the room, ricocheting off the walls.
I yelp as one shot skims my left shoulder, singeing my skin and filling my nose with a burnt smell. Another one zips past my head on the other side, and I hear a robotic shout as the droid, Null-99, gets blown to pieces.
The ratman guards have encircled Putrude, shielding their boss, and they are firing on my bounty hunter captives. They must think that this was some kind of planned ambush to assassinate their lord.
I decide to make that a reality.
Even with his rodents protecting him, Putrude makes a big target. I draw a bead on his ugly face, lining up the pistol’s sights right between his fear-filled eyes.
Just as I’m about to squeeze the trigger, something heavy rams me from the side, knocking me to the floor. A fraction of a second later, a sizzling blaster bolt skewers the air where I was just standing.
The pistol flies from my hand and spins away as I tumble to the floor and end up flat on my back with Szelina on top of me. She’s the one who tackled me. She saved my life, but I don’t think that was her intent.
Or maybe she just wants to kill me herself.
She lets out a blood-curdling shriek as her hands clutch around my throat. I struggle beneath her, but she’s too strong. Her grip is insane.
She squeezes tighter, cutting off my circulation.
It only takes a few seconds before the sounds of the gunfight grow distant, and darkness creeps in around the edges of my vision.
Another second, and unconsciousness will overtake me. Then I’ll die.
In that final moment, my only regret is that I won’t get to see Rogar one last time.
I close my eyes and picture my alien mate—his handsome chiseled face smiling at me, and his jade eyes staring straight into my soul. I want that image to be the last thing I remember before I die.
Suddenly, the grip loosens around my throat. Szelina’s hands slip away. I gasp and cough as my windpipe opens again.
As the sparkling stars fade out of my eyes, I look up to see Szelina desperately struggling against something wrapped around her own throat now.
It’s a length of chain.
Towering behind her is Kozar, Rogar’s brother. He’s choking Szelina out with the remains of the slave chain that I just shattered.
After a moment, Szelina’s body goes limp. Kozar releases her, and she slumps to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Kozar stoops and offers me his hand.
“Mennaan”
I take his hand, and he pulls me to my feet. Blaster bolts are flying all around us. Several ratman guards are lying dead on the floor with smoking wounds. The catman is fending off another cluster of guards while Putrude is scuttling away into the shadows.
We need to get away from here right now.
But before we flee, something on the ground nearby catches my eye.
“Wait!” I shout.
It’s Null-99. His body has been blown to smithereens, but his head still seems to be alive, its multiple eyes dilating and contracting as they try to focus.
I scoop the droid’s head and tuck it under one arm like a football.
“This might come in handy.”
Then Rogar’s brother tugs at my hand, and we take off running, leaving the battle behind and retreating down one of the many corridors that lead out of the chamber.
I sure hope he knows where he’s going because I don’t have a clue.
CHAPTER 31: ROGAR
Lorka trundles ahead while Babu and I follow. The dwarven Gavronian winds his way along the shimmering pathways through the stars, pausing here and there to get his bearings from some galactic landmark.
As we move deeper down the arteries and pathways of the Webway, our bodies automatically shrink in proportion to where we are as if by magic.
“Here we are,” Lorka shouts triumphantly. “There’s Rota!”
He’s right. He’s managed to lead us to the angry, red star known as Rota. From there we wend our way to the gas giant Rothil, and at last, shrinking down even further, we find our destination—the darkly flickering storm world of Rothilian Primaris.
Drawing up alongside Lorka, I place a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I say, and his face brightens.
“So are we square again?” He asks.
I give his shoulder a squeeze and nod.
During my work as a bounty hunter, I’ve had the misfortune of visiting this awful planet more than once. I’m grateful that now, protected as we are by the evanescent film of the Webway, that we don’t have to smell the noxious fumes that fill its atmosphere.
I take the lead and guide us over the planet to our ultimate destination.
Everything around us—the dark poisonous clouds and the buildings far below—all of it is shimmering weirdly, separated from us by the film of unreality that surrounds us. As we move forward, the path of the Webway seems to construct itself from tiles of light.
At last, we reach Lord Putrude’s palace, perched high atop the clustered spires of his city.
“Here,” I tell Babu, pressing my hand to the outer wall of the palace.
Babu nods with understanding, and then hums in the same manner that we heard his companions do in that ancient chamber that is now light years behind us.
The spot I indicated on the wall of the palace begins to shift and morph until it has become a rippling circle of mirrored fluid. Babu takes my hand and pulls me inside. I grab the fur of Lorka’s cape and drag him after me.
We tumble back into the material universe to find ourselves in a dark room. It’s almost pitch black except for the shimmering light coming from Babu’s insides.
“Babu?” our guide inquires.
I shush him gently. We’re somewhere inside Lord Putrude’s palace now, and I don’t think his guards w
ill take kindly to uninvited guests.
My helmet switches to night-vision mode, and I see our surroundings in the eerie green glow of the infrared view. It’s a simple, rectangular room with concrete surfaces and numerous metal astro-crates stacked along the walls. If the ceiling were any lower, I would have to duck, and I’m glad that it was Babu who accompanied us instead of one of those larger beings.
Perhaps that is the reason Babu was sent with us.
The portal to the Webway is still rippling on the wall like a sideways pond. Babu is touching it, apparently keeping it open.
“Where are we?” Lorka grunts, knuckling his eyes and peering into the darkness.
I shush him too, a little more forcefully.
Once I have scanned the room carefully to make sure we’re really alone, I turn on the flashlight that is built into the vambrace on my forearm, illuminating the room.
“Okay,” I say in a low voice. “We need to locate Clare and get her back here to the Webway.”
“What about your brother?” Lorka whispers.
“We get Clare first. After she’s safely inside the Webway, I’ll go back alone to get my brother.”
“But how will you escape?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
I turn to Babu, who is still touching the Webway portal.
“Babu,” I say, placing a hand on the creature’s narrow shoulder. “You stay here and guard the entrance to the Webway. If there is any trouble, you get back inside and close the portal behind you, okay?”
As I say the last part, I flash Babu a thumbs up, and the strange creature returns the gesture with its three-fingered hand.
“Did it understand you?” Lorka asks.
“I’m not sure.”
For all I know, Babu was only imitating me, but we’ll just have to hope it gets the picture.
“What about me?” Lorka asks.
“You’re coming with me.”
Lorka frowns.
“I’ve been in some bad situations in my day, Rogar, but this has to be right at the top of the list. How are we supposed to do this without any weapons?”