I swung myself from hand-hold to hand-hold until I was above tile 55 then dropped. Six rows ahead and five to the right was tile 89. I heard a pair of thuds behind me and turned to see that both gnomes had kicked their way free and had fallen on non-Fibonacci sequence tile numbers. They’d split into four three inch gnomes and were jumping up and down on neighboring tiles. That triggered more tiles to descend and rise with angry fang-mouthed full-sized gnomes of their own. They were all headed in my direction, triggering still more tiles as they came. I’d have to move it before I was overwhelmed by the little land piranhas. It was a good thing that I now had the hang of how to swing from one fleur-de-lis to another and made my way to tile 89. Tile 144 was only eleven rows straight ahead. Fifty chomping gnomes were close, some literally nipping at my heels.
I jumped up to grab the nearest fleur-de-lis and crossed the distance like Tarzan swinging through the jungle. I managed to get well ahead of my gnomish pursuers and landed solidly on the last tile when I dropped from the ceiling. Most of the time when you hit the ground you expect it to be solid. This time you’d be wrong. My weight tipped the floor down like it was on a pivot and sent me sliding into darkness.
* * * * *
The slide turned into a tumble before I reached the bottom. When I checked myself for broken bones or other injuries I found everything but my dignity was intact. None of the gnomes had followed me down.
“You okay back there, Chit?”
“Yeah. Life with you sure ain’t boring.”
“You can say that again.”
“You shouldn’t hand a girl such an easy straight line.”
“True enough. Let’s see if we can shed a little light on the subject of where we are,” I said. I pulled my phone from my pocket and asked it to switch to flashlight mode. In the harsh artificial light I could see that we were in a large underground chamber. It wasn’t a natural cavern but a human construct. The walls were made of massive, tightly fitted limestone blocks. Life-sized frescoes covered the walls—bull dancers leaping over giant aurochs, and being gored and trampled by them. An open door in the far wall led to a dark and narrow corridor.
“This place looks old, Jack.”
“It does,” I agreed. “The frescoes appear to be Minoan.”
“Minoan? Whatza Minoan?”
“An ancient Terran civilization on an island called Crete,” I said, “in the Mediterranean Sea.”
“If you say so,” said Chit. “Why aren’t they Cretans?”
“Think about homophones,” I said.
“Got it,” said Chit. “I hear that word all the time on my legislative committee shows.”
“Back to why they’re Minoan frescoes,” I said. “Crete was the home of the Labyrinth.”
“An underground maze?”
“Not quite. Mazes can have lots of different branches, twists, turns and dead ends. Labyrinths have twists and turns, but there’s a single path to the center.”
“What’s at the center?”
“For the original labyrinth on Crete it was a minotaur.”
“What’s that?”
“A monster, half man, half bull.”
“Which half is on top?”
“The bull.”
“Got it,” said Chit. “The other way around would just be kind of dumb.”
“Right,” I reflected.
“Though probably popular with the ladies.”
“Don’t go there.”
“And why are we going there?”
“Because once we get past the Minotaur we’ll be one step closer to finding Terrhi. He may even be guarding her.”
I stepped into the narrow corridor and we entered the labyrinth. Torches on the walls flamed on, adding dim illumination to our path, so I put my phone back in my pocket. As I continued I saw that rows of bull’s horns were mounted to the walls and ceiling every thirty feet or so. I tested the first set of them and they appeared to be purely decorative. All my senses were heightened, however. I expected traps around every corner and watched for trip wires, pressure-sensitive stones in the floor, and eyes watching from slits in the walls. I followed the path as it curved and recurved, expecting to be attacked at any moment. I’d navigated three switchbacks without encountering any poison darts or rolling boulders and was sure I was almost to the center when I began to hear a high pitched falsetto wailing like an operatic soprano trying to pass a kidney stone. It continued for a few minutes then abruptly stopped. I fell to my knees and crawled the next few dozen feet, hugging the inside wall. I peeked around the final corner, my head at ground level, and saw what was in the center of the labyrinth.
I’d expected something like a dungeon. Instead, I saw a spacious, circular room with a tall ceiling that appeared to be a scholar’s study. It was a well-appointed chamber with rows of books and codices lining half the walls. Most of the book titles were written with angular characters I didn’t recognize—Linear A, maybe? A beautifully decorated over-sized matching table and chair painted in the same style as the frescoes sat in front of the bookcases. A handsomely tiled wood-burning fireplace on the left-hand wall added warmth and light. On the far wall was an anachronistic modern door that looked like the entrance to a luxury hotel room. A massive creature, his back to me, sat peacefully in an overstuffed arm chair in front of the fireplace, reading by firelight. Could this be the fearsome Minotaur?
It was time to plan ahead. I crawled back down the corridor thirty feet to the last row of bull’s horns decorations and unrolled the large piece of B.I.T.S. cloth I’d taken from the hovercar. There was a lot more than what I’d used for my poncho. I stretched it tightly across the corridor, anchoring it to the horns on the walls and ceiling. I left a couple of feet dangling at the bottom to help me escape if I needed to beat a hasty retreat. While I was stretching the cloth the wailing started up again. It was clearly coming from the center of the labyrinth. I walked in that direction, not in stealth-mode this time. In retrospect, that wasn’t a wise move.
When I entered the central chamber the monster was no longer seated in his comfortable chair. He was standing in the middle of the room, shaking his fists at a fresco on the ceiling. The creature was at least eight feet tall. He had a man’s body, a bull’s head, and muscles that looked like a good CGI version of The Hulk’s. His vocal chords, throat and massive chest were indeed the source of the wailing. The sound they made seemed to express a pain deeper than Mars’ Valles Marineris canyon. Then he saw me. He didn’t look happy. Let me take that back—he did look sort of happy but not in a way that made me happy. He looked like he was glad to have something or someone to distract him from his pain. I took a step backwards.
“Hello, little man,” said the Minotaur in a disconcertingly high falsetto. Imagine hearing “Hulk smash!” if Old Greenskin had been sucking on a helium balloon.
“Hello,” I said, my own voice at least an octave higher than usual. I was rooted where I stood. “What’s with all the wailing and the squeaky voice?”
“It’s that damned Athenian,” said the man-bull. “The legends say he cut off my head, but he didn’t.” I was starting to get the picture and involuntarily squeezed my thighs together.
“Theseus performed a bilateral orchidectomy?”
“He chopped off both my…!” said the monster. I cut him off. Wait, that’s probably a poor choice of words.
“I’d be wailing, too,” I said. “So you’re not really a man-bull anymore? You’re half man, half ox?”
“I’m so ashamed,” the Minotaur said. “I’m supposed to be this classic symbol of masculinity, but now I’m just a no bull savage.”
“You seem quite civilized to me,” I said, sweeping my arm to take in the impressive furnishings. “You have my sincere condolences.”
“Thank you.”
We stood there looking at each other for a few heartbeats.
“Beautiful library.”
“My books are the only things that distract me from my pain,” he said. I nodded. There a
re times when I feel the same way.
“I don’t suppose you’d just let me walk over and open that door,” I said, motioning toward the modern door.
“No,” said the Minotaur. “I still have this gig because the only thing more pissed off than a standard Minotaur is a Minotaur… like me.”
What could I say to that? We stared at each other.
“I’ll give you a three second head start,” said the monster.
“Generous of you,” I said. I turned and ran.
The man-ox was just a few steps behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him, bent over at the hips, his horns toward me, running more like a bull than a man. I could see the rows of decorative horns ahead of me and pretended to stumble, fall, and roll, sliding under the dangling edge of the B.I.T.S. fabric. I kept rolling to get as much distance between myself and the Minotaur as possible. It wasn’t much fun rolling with my backpack. It didn’t do my injured leg any good, either. I couldn’t see exactly what happened next but the man-ox likely hit the stretched B.I.T.S. cloth square on. His horns stuck in the center of it and the entire sheet came free from its anchor points and wrapped the beast up in yards of fabric. The Minotaur must have stumbled and fallen on his head because I could hear him only a few feet away from where I’d landed. He was moaning softly and cursing in his incongruously high-pitched voice. I didn’t think he would be getting up in a hurry.
I scrambled around him and Chit whistled when she saw what had happened.
“Nice job, boss.”
“Thanks.”
“Technically he’s not a man-ox, he’s more like a eunuch-bull.”
“Do you want to fly back and share your observation?” I said.
“No way.”
“Great,” I said. “Now we just need to get to the next door and open it.”
I ran back to the Minotaur’s lair, or study or whatever and crossed to the modern door.
I wanted my Orishen mutakey close at hand so I slid my backpack tool bag off my shoulders to get it. Then I learned that the chestnut hadn’t been such a bad a shot after all. An arrow was firmly embedded in the center. I removed the shaft and put the mutakey in my pocket. I’d been lucky. Let’s see if my luck continued. I tried the handle to see if the door was locked. It wasn’t.
I put my backpack on, opened it and stepped through.
Chapter 30
“To me, the thing that is worse than death is betrayal.” ― Malcolm X
I found myself in a short hall leading to an airy room with lots of simulated natural light. The room looked like a high-end suite in a luxury hotel. On the far wall was a plain door, the kind used to access connecting suites. A king-sized bed was visible to one side and trays of delicious-looking hors d’oeuvres sat on a tall round table next to a bar stacked with cans of Starbuzz. Through an open door I could see a well-appointed bathroom with a shower and Jacuzzi tub like I had in my apartment. Then my head snapped back to stare at the bed. Poly was lounging there on top of a fancy coverlet, wearing a skin-tight dark green leather dominatrix ensemble. Say what? How had I missed her earlier? Her voice purred with the menace, sensuality and power of a tiger—the Bengal kind.
“I’m so glad you made it this far, Jack.”
I didn’t reply.
“You didn’t think I’d actually fall for someone like you, did you?”
I clenched my teeth.
“Terrhi is on the other side of the connecting door.”
I said nothing.
“But you have to go through me to get her.”
I stood mute.
“We’ve got plenty of time. Feel free to grab a drink or have some food. Take a shower if you want. We can even make love before I kill you. I’d enjoy that.”
Not one word.
“You would, too. I promise.”
I stood like a statue. My heart was stone.
I clicked a quick, quiet message to Chit. “Where’s Poly?”
Her forelegs tapped a reply. “She’s at the loading docks for the hanger, in the back.”
“Thanks,” I said. That was right where I expected her to be, preparing her surprises for Zwilniki’s minions.
“What do you say?” purred false Poly. “Why don’t you get more comfortable?”
The longer this continued the less comfortable I was feeling.
“Can it, Zwilniki,” I said.
“Zwilniki’s long gone,” said false Poly with faked sincerity.
“Uh huh,” I said.
“It’s just you and me.”
I was wondering what I’d have to do to get past this obstacle in my quest. Being intimate with Zwilniki’s version of Poly wouldn’t be it. The imitation Poly continued.
“I could sing to you until you fell helplessly in love with me,” she said, “or turn you into a pig.”
“Siren songs and Circe spells aren’t going to work.”
“We could have a lovely shape-changing Wizards’ Duel,” said the false Poly. “I could change into a sparrow and you could transform into a hawk and chase me.”
“Not much room for that here.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem if we decided on that option.” The ceiling of the hotel room started to fade out, revealing a cloud-dotted sky.
“No.” I wasn’t here to play or be played with.
False Poly shrugged her shoulders, stood up, and began pacing back and forth in front of the connecting door. This was feeling decidedly off. Now that Zwilniki’s first ploy—to hurt my psyche by having Poly appear to turn on me—had failed, additional tests were not forthcoming. He had coded this section rather quickly. I took a step toward the connecting door. False Poly blocked me. Her face started to transform into a Dark Galadriel version of Poly. I hoped I’d never give the real Poly a reason to look at me like that. My intuition told me that I was running out of time, so I shoved past her. She grabbed my arm and wrapped her legs around mine, slowing my progress.
“Don’t leave me, Jack,” she said. The voice sounded like Poly’s but she would never say something like that to me except as a joke, imitating a bad romance novel.
“It’s something I’ve got to do,” I said, picking up the obligatory next line of soap opera dialog.
“It’s too soon,” said false Poly, “far too soon for you to go. I need you, Jack!” She started crying. It was a poor simulation of Poly’s personality.
Now I was sure there was no next test, no game to play, no more virtual monsters to fight. He’d programmed an imitation Poly to tempt me, to make me doubt myself and to slow me down with her talk about sex and songs and spells and duels to the death. He thought she would be impossible for me to resist, but he didn’t get it. He didn’t respect women. They were things to him, like his fleet of sports cars. He had added this game module for one purpose and one purpose only—to stall. I needed to speed things up.
I kept moving toward the connecting door, dragging the false Poly along with me. It was like trying to swim through molasses. Every step was extra effort. I finally reached the door, but it was locked. I managed to get my arms around the false Poly and detach her from me long enough to toss her back on the king-sized bed. She protested, loudly, using words I’d never heard from the real Poly’s lips. In the few seconds before she was on me again I found my Orishen mutakey in an outer pocket of my backpack and stuck it in the lock. It opened. Poly was almost within reach, still screaming that it was too soon. I blocked her attack then repeated my earlier move and threw her back on the bed. I opened the door.
* * * * *
“Hi, Uncle Jack!”
Terrhi was in the next room, a utilitarian box with the door I’d come through on one side and a large, industrial elevator on the other. I could see that she was stuck inside a cage mounted on a sturdy four-wheeled cart, like the kind you’d find in a big box home improvement store. From her greeting she sounded like she was both okay and in good spirits. Maybe getting kidnapped was just another adventure for a pre-adolescent Dauushan princess. Unfortunately, s
he wasn’t alone. Cornell, Penn and Princeton were guarding her. They weren’t in three-piece suits now. They were wearing Dauushan Ranger camouflage combat gear and holding weapons. Cornell had a pistol and Penn and Princeton each had chill-field sweetener rifles. I’d interrupted them as they were preparing to move Terrhi somewhere else. The elevator door was open and they were getting ready to roll her cage inside.
“Hi Terrhi,” I said. “Are you okay?” I surreptitiously reached into my pocket and felt what I was hoping to find. I smiled my “don’t mess with me” smile. They didn’t know how to interpret it.
“Stand right there,” said Cornell. “Not another step closer.”
I stood my ground and then took a step forward.
“Do you clowns remember how fast I took all three of you down at the capital?” I said, advancing another step. I could see Penn and Princeton looking worried. Cornell, not so much. The other two backed up, closer to Terrhi’s cage.
“Yeah, you’re a tough guy,” said Cornell, “but you weren’t so tough when I kicked your ass in the hovercar.”
“You’re a big man when you’re kicking a guy who’s been hit with a chill field,” I said. “What about in a fair fight?”
I took another step closer and Penn and Princeton retreated a comparable distance. I winked at Terrhi. She used her third eye to wink back. One more step and they’d be close enough.
“Not another step,” said Cornell, sounding nervous. Bullies don’t like victims who fight back. I took another step. Cornell fired his pistol and the bullet smacked into my solar plexus and fell to the floor with a metallic clink. The impact was almost enough to knock the breath out of me but no worse than that. Thank you Orishen pupa silk shirt. Terrhi reached out with two of her three main trunks and whacked Penn and Princeton’s heads together, knocking them out. She recovered their sweetener rifles before they could drop them. Then Terrhi let go and the two henchmen fell to the floor. In a cartoon, little birds or stars would be circling around their heads.
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