Dying World

by Chris Fox

  Reaching the bridge made it easier to focus on other things. There were fewer bodies, thankfully, but that wasn’t what took my mind off the carnage.

  This was ancient magitech. Not just magic. Not just tech. This was the hybridization of both. We’d long since lost the secrets to forging it, and to my knowledge no one on Kemet had done any R&D for centuries.

  The walls were a simple unadorned metallic purple. As I walked by, though, I made out faint black sigils flowing over the surface. The only other features of note were the breathtaking spell matrix and an arched doorway on the far side of the room, which was currently sealed with a black door.

  I faced Kemet, which centered him in my HUD. “I take it that I need to go inside that door to face these trials you mentioned?”

  “Indeed.” No staff sparkle this time. “You can initiate the trials whenever you wish.”

  “Yeah, no.” I loosed an unexpected laugh, and it felt good. “I’m more of a read-the-manual kind of guy. I want to know all about the trials before I go inside, and I want everyone else around to hear it.” I activated the comm and sent the message to the squad, who’d yet to enter the bridge. “It’s clear. Get in here quickly so we can seal this place.”

  Seal this place.

  I shot to my feet and spun around, one gauntlet aimed in each direction. “Guardian, the Inurans attached a ship to the hull. That looks like it should connect to this location. Where is their point of entry?”

  “Four meters to your left,” Kemet supplied. He pointed the staff’s outstretched tip toward the wall to indicate the location. “They are using an illusion to cloak their entry.”

  Anything could, and probably did, lurk beyond the illusionary wall. Who knew how many battle-hardened Inuran mages were waiting to renew the assault? I had to know.

  I slowly approached the illusion, then leaned closer until my faceplate nearly touched the “wall”. I rippled through like passing through water, and found a pair of Inuran mages staring right back at me a few meters up the docking tube.

  Both carried spellrifles, but their posture was relaxed, and one of them even had the helmet of his spellarmor off. That armor was different from the others. More advanced. Newer. Inuran Mark IX maybe? I hadn’t seen that model.

  The moment they saw me I knew I was dead. I could probably drop one of them as they weren’t prepared. But both? Not likely. I had to try.

  “Officer!” the mage with his helmet still on hissed, then immediately snapped to attention.

  The other mage’s face melted into growing horror, like he’d done something monumentally stupid.

  And then it hit me.

  They didn’t know. They didn’t know their commander was dead. They didn’t know their whole platoon was dead. These guys had been left behind to guard the ship.

  And I was wearing identical armor to a man they feared.

  I thought back to the Inuran, his manner, and his accent. I was pretty good with accents. One used what tools one had when at the academy and not terribly athletic.

  “Incompetence,” I snarled, and hoped that anything wrong with the voice would be associated with the armor. “You. If you cannot be prepared for battle, then you do not deserve to be armed. Give me your rifle.”

  The mage handed his spellrifle—a very, very nice spellrifle—across without a moment’s hesitation. My sister would love it. I took it as if it weren’t the most expensive weapon I’d ever held, then gave a disgusted snort.

  “Do not allow any personnel to enter the dreadnought for any reason, unless I return to get you.” Then I turned and stepped through the illusion.

  Showing my back to those mages was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, but as the seconds passed neither followed me through. It appeared my ruse had worked.

  We had until they wised up to figure out how to make this ship fly.

  29

  It didn’t take long for the rest of the squad to arrive. I gestured for them to join me on the far side of the bridge, away from the illusionary doorway. Even Briff took pains to be quiet, though I figured if the guards did hear anything they’d be too frightened to investigate.

  “All right, everyone.” I whispered. “Here’s the deal. That section of the wall is an illusion, and behind it is the access tube to the Inuran ship. There are two guards and probably more inside the ship.”

  Briff darted a panicked look at the wall, but kept quiet.

  My father gave a low, almost inaudible whistle, which gathered everyone’s attention. “Is there a reason we haven’t rolled a grenade through that doorway? Seems like it would solve the problem.”

  “Not if the problem is six more Inuran Marines,” Rava countered in a fierce whisper.

  “Let’s get control of this ship before we worry about that one.” I turned to face Kemet’s holographic form. “Can you project yourself here so everyone can see you?”

  “Of course. This is the bridge.” Kemet tapped the deck with his staff, and this time everyone got to see the staff sparkle. “I can manifest anywhere on the ship, but here it requires no magic.”

  “Is that…” Briff trailed off as his jaw fell open. “Whoah. Is this guy the ship?”

  Kemet delivered a stately bow, which included his wings and tail. “Indeed, brother. You may address me as Guardian, or Kemet as the officer candidate has elected to do.”

  “Brother?” Briff blinked those slitted irises.

  Kemet nodded. “You are a life Wyrm, as I was in mortality. We are kindred, bonded by blood and scale.”

  “Okay,” Briff allowed. He glanced down at his gut in embarrassment, and then straightened, clearly self-conscious. “Nice to meet you, I guess?”

  “Kemet,” I began, as I knew time was short. “We need some answers, and quickly. You said I can try to become captain, right? And that I need to walk through that arch? What will happen then?”

  “The trials will begin,” Kemet explained. Staff sparkle. Man, this guy loved that thing. “Once through the door you will enter the ship’s reactor, a sliver of the god Xal. It is immense power that will incinerate most who enter. The magic there will guide you through three trials. If you survive, then you will be granted command.”

  “Can you tell me any more about these trials?” I folded my arms in what I hoped was a judge-y way. “This is kind of nebulous. Do they have names at least?”

  “The trial of strength, followed by the trial of reason, and finally the trial of judgement.” No staff sparkle. In fact, Kemet looked uncomfortable in a very Briff-like way. “I can say no more.”

  “I guess that’s fair.” I turned back to the crew. “I’m going to walk through that door in a minute. Before I do I have some questions about this ship. Feel free to chime in with your own.” I turned back to Kemet’s expectant face. “Where did this ship come from? And the other dreadnoughts? And why were they abandoned?”

  “The ships are more than mere vessels.” Kemet raised his wings in a dramatic fashion. Staff sparkle. “The Vagrant Fleet was exiled from the Great Cycle, cast adrift to wander the many-verse. It has fragmented countless times and worn endless forms. In my epoch the heart of the fleet was the Great Ships. Eight vessels prepared by the Pantheon to enforce their will throughout the galaxy. Our empire stretched the length of the galaxy. There wasn’t a star we hadn’t mapped by the end of our reign.”

  Kemet’s face fell. He shook his head sadly. “I have listened to your transmissions. I had hoped the attack here was an anomaly, but it seems the godswar ended in ruin for the dragonflights.”

  “Maybe,” Rava broke in, then shook her head. “I don’t think so, though. There’s a show called The Last Dragonflight. That means there’s at least one left. It’s about Outriders and air Wyrms. Lots of ‘splosions and honor duels. Good stuff.”

  “Encountering a surviving flight would be a true wonder.” Kemet gave a draconic grin, and you guessed it…sparkle. “You have renewed my hope. Thank you.”

  “Kemet,” I interrupted as I was painfully
aware of the neighboring guards. “Why didn’t your enemies take these ships centuries ago? Why didn’t they wipe out my ancestors on Kemet?”

  “I…well, that name is quite flattering.” His chest puffed up, and the grin broadened to inhuman proportions. “The fleet survived thanks to me. You see, I was the admiral in charge during the battle. We were ambushed, but we managed to escape into the depths. They tracked us, and finally cornered us here. I knew our only option was to stand and fight. They were coming for Ardaki.” He raised the holographic staff to indicate that it matched the name.

  “Anyway,” Kemet continued, “I knew that if they believed the ships lived they’d never stop coming. I ordered all ships to simulate a self-destruct. We burned off all available magical power, all at once, knowing that it would confuse their scrying. They would believe us dead. So long as we gave them no reason to suspect otherwise they’d never be the wiser. As my last act I ordered all ships to expend their available magic in what appeared to be a detonation. They believed we had been destroyed. Then, when I was sure the ruse was a success, I did what any captain, or admiral, would do. I merged with my ship, and became the new Guardian. Which is how you’ve come to meet me so many thousands of years after my death.”

  I hadn’t noticed until now, but Vee’s expression had grown increasingly stormy as Kemet spoke, and had now blossomed into full-on rage.

  “Are you saying that the Maker is nothing but a…ship?”

  “All mother, no.” Kemet hissed laughter. “Inura, the Maker, is an ancient life Wyrm. But he, and every other god in the Pantheon, gave of themselves to make these vessels. The Word of Xal is not a figurative name. It is literal. These ships embody their gods and their magic.”

  I am a fully trained archeologist, with a real passion for history. I had no idea what pantheon he was talking about, but Vee clearly did. Somehow the lurkers had maintained a memory of the old ships, while the people on Kemet had not.

  A clatter came from the illusionary doorway. Metal on metal…like someone dropping a helmet.

  “We need to get moving,” I hissed, almost inaudibly. “Take me into this chamber.”

  “Of course.” Kemet disappeared and in the same instant the black door retracted into the wall. Beyond it lay total unbroken darkness. Lovely.

  “Briff, Rava, set up overwatch on that illusionary door. Kemet can show you where. Vee, see what you can learn while I’m gone.” I turned to face her, and while she couldn’t see me through the helmet, I hope she heard it in my voice. “There’s a real chance I may not make it. If I don’t, there’s a second suit of armor. You or your brother can use that to make an attempt.”

  Vee nodded. There was emotion in her eyes, but I didn’t know her well enough to know what it was. She gave my shoulder a squeeze, then moved to join her brother.

  “You turned out all right, kid,” my dad said. He barked a laugh. “No goodbyes, Jer. Get in there and get it done. No excuses.”

  My dad was right. There was no need for words.

  “Be careful in there, Jer.” Briff clapped me on the shoulder as I walked by.

  “Thanks, bud. Will do.” I smiled at the arch, and then stepped through.

  Icy numbness caressed every part of my body, even through the armor. It was like diving into a winter lake and swimming to the bottom…naked.

  A red aura appeared around the paper doll on my HUD, and began to pulse angrily. A light shade of yellow appeared over the chest, then spread to the arms and legs. Yikes.

  “The test of strength,” I muttered to myself as I pressed into the darkness. I had both arms outstretched, and awkwardly fumbled my way forward. “What the depths does that mean?”

  I figured you’d want to test a captain, but were they talking about physical strength? Probably not. I seriously doubted I was supposed to pick up a rock. Perhaps it more meant endurance? Perseverance? Surviving the darkness?

  I knew time was critical, since the yellow had continued to spread, and the temperature continued to fall. I could see my breath now, and my teeth chattered painfully.

  I started to trot, which was terrifying in complete darkness, as I could be running toward a cliff. But I needed to reach something, and quickly. This place couldn’t be endless.

  Red bloomed in the armor’s chest, and began to spread to areas that were yellow. I couldn’t feel my fingers, or toes, or nose, or…other extremities.

  I ran faster.

  …And then I entered free fall. I pumped my limbs, but neither arms nor legs touched anything. There was nothing but darkness in all directions. Even my HUD had begun to dim.

  I was falling, I thought, but with nothing visible around me I had no context and my brain had no idea what to do with that.

  So far this test sucked.

  “Guardian, can you hear me?” I called as I twisted in a slow circle in an attempt to see something. Anything.

  There was no response.

  I continued to fall, and the paper doll slowly turned red. As it turned out there was a color past red. Black.

  A weak chime came from the armor, a dying alarm that was fast running out of power.

  I was going to die. There was probably a specific route I was supposed to follow, and instead I’d tumbled into the death pit. Well, that sucked.

  Was there anything else I could try before the armor failed?

  I didn’t think there was, so I relaxed into it. A pretty lurker had sort of flirted with me. My dad had said he was proud. That was pretty cool. I’d done my best to get my friends to safety, and I could die knowing they’d make it out.

  I’d done everything I could. I was at peace.

  30

  I wasn’t dead. That didn’t seem right. My eyes fluttered open, and my breath echoed in the helmet. The armor was intact. In fact, the paper doll showed no damage at all.

  The darkness was gone.

  I now lay on a marble floor in a large antechamber to someone’s ridiculously opulent mansion. I flipped over, rose to my feet, and took a good look around.

  Antechamber was right. I was in a sort of sitting room with archaic hovercouches, the kind that had been lovingly handcrafted from the finest Shayan wood, and then lined with ghost-tiger fur.

  The walls had many wide windows open to let in a clean breeze that smelled of summer. Beyond those windows lay impossibly tall mountains that stabbed into the sky.

  I passed a vase on a stand that was probably worth more than the Remora. I had no idea how old it was, but the iconography predated anything I’d been taught about.

  Where was I?

  “You have passed the test of strength.” Kemet appeared in my HUD as if summoned, and offered an extra-enthusiastic staff sparkle. “Well done. I am pleased to see our descendants have lost none of their ingenuity.”

  “Wait, so what part of falling down a pit demonstrates strength? That’s a terrible name for this test.” I was genuinely offended. Who’d designed this?

  Kemet loosed a holographic laugh. “The strength we speak of is character, my friend.”

  I found myself laughing as well. It was good to be alive. “Then why not call it that? You people need better engineers.”

  “Perhaps. Luck with the second test, candidate.”

  And then he was gone again.

  I continued into the room, past the hovercouches, and found a high arched doorway leading to another room. A chandelier floated in midair, with wispy little flames dancing artfully about to provide dancing shadows to the occupants of the room.

  Those occupants were the weirdest thing since the dino-porn meme had hit the arena circuit. They weren’t dragons. But they weren’t humans either.

  The pair sat across from each other at a table. The one on the right could have been mistaken for a human at first glance. Except that he had draconic wings and a tail. His long white hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he was focused on a game board on the table.

  The man on the left had a deep purple-hued skin that matched the void sigils I’d seen
on the bridge. A pair of horns curled from his forehead, like the rams in the mountains above New Cairo. He also had a tail and wings, but his wings were more bat-like, and his tail was more slender and ended in a sharp barb. His mouth was full of razored fangs, and the sight of him touched a primal fear nestled deep within me.

  Neither appeared to see me.

  I approached, but neither moved. Both stared at the board, and once I was certain they weren’t going to leap up and attack I did the same.

  “It’s a Kem’Hedj board,” I realized aloud. I willed the mask to slither off my face so I could inspect their positions.

  I loved the game, and had since I was a kid. Each side places a stone every turn with the goal of encircling their opponent’s pieces. Games could go on for years if both players agreed to expand the board.

  The white player had a more defensive style. He advanced cautiously, instead choosing to fortify positions so they could not be assailed later. The black player was more aggressive, as fit his ferocious appearance. However there was a nuance to his play that suggested a mastery that vastly exceeded my own.

  When I say my own, I suppose I should clear that up. I was good back at the academy. I used to clean up in the lounge for pocket money. But I wasn’t amazing. I was just good enough that when the guy with real talent showed up, I stopped swaggering and started listening.

  The game I was observing was the sort of thing that masters would spend years studying before finally puzzling out the winning move. There was no way I would suddenly manifest the ability to solve this.

  I could experiment. Placing a piece could be trial and error, but I imagined something called the trial of reason would require a bit more reasoning. So how could I get the answer?

  I sat down next to the table and reached into the side pouch on the armor. I’d stowed a couple of protein bars and was starting to feel the hunger. Who knew how long I’d been unconscious.