Entropy's Heralds: Pilgrims Path Book 3

by Vic Davis

  Malador had remained silent this whole time. Its wounds from the battle in the warehouse were still fresh; the new scars on its form walls ached. But beneath the pain an emboldened sense of confidence had taken root. It had not failed Xodd for once. True, it had been wounded and incapacitated, which was unfortunate and possibly a minor disgrace, but it had resisted the Alpha’s domination and then, when the key moment came, launched its grenado to destroy it. Malador straighten up and offered its heartfelt opinion. “We should give them all the chance to be useful.”

  Xodd was delighted at the suggestion and it showed on its form walls. “Yes, I think you are right. Why should any of them be denied the opportunity. I will address them from the top of the tower and embolden them to follow my banner of revenge into the core nodes of my enemy. There they can redeem themselves in a glorious manner.”

  “And don’t forget to mention the secret treasure vaults captain,” signaled Block worried that, like some of the captain’s pervious orations, this one might tend to discourage rather than encourage its audience.

  Malador was concerned as well but for a different reason. “My lord captain, I would humbly suggest that you let Sergeant Block and I address your followers. There is no need for you to lower yourself. Perhaps it would be best if you maintain your exalted status above them.” Grivil and The Old Alchemist could barely keep the laughter from their form walls but were astute enough to do so.

  “Excellent Malador. Make it so. We must keep a tight rein on them though. The trip into the Empty Nodes will be arduous. I suspect it will weed out the weak and those who are not useful.”

  Voor was anxious to get them moving again. “You have enough source rations to reach the slip point into the first Empty Node and I might be able to find some hidden source along the way. Time is of the essence though. We should get underway.”

  Xodd waved a tendril to dismiss the group and they dispersed to accomplish their individual tasks. Soon afterwards the lead wagons of Xodd’s company were across the slip point and heading along the escarpment and into the source starved half of Timathur’s Node. Perhaps three quarters of the fugitive slaves, almost two hundred in all, decided to follow them into the node; the rest turned back to seek refuge in Rugguroz or one of the other Free Cities.

  Voor assured them that this side of the escarpment gradually gave way to meet the surrounding flowscape; an abrupt ledge or cliffside would have been exceptionally inconvenient. Their company’s caravan consisting of an ornate carriage, five supply wagons, and a lone wagon with an odd tube mounted on its bed, would not easily traverse such an obstacle.

  Most of the rabble managed to miraculously keep up with the vanguard, at least for the first two cycles. A near-continuous line of stragglers would wander in well after camp had been made for recovery time and consumption of the cyclic source ration. Another cycle passed and the severity of the culling of followers grew in intensity, as any source rations that they had carried with them were completely exhausted.

  Block was hesitant to bring the issue up with Captain Xodd but now that fully a third of the rabble had disappeared, the sergeant thought to attempt an entreaty. After making camp Block approached Xodd as it headed off with Malador to survey the terrain ahead. “Captain, if we don’t do something soon, they will all decohere.”

  “I fail to see how that is my concern, sergeant,” replied Xodd.

  “Well, we could use some more recruits, sir. Perhaps we could identify a few and share some of our rations?”

  “Sergeant, I am concerned that we are already low on supplies. Despite ample time to prepare, you failed to have fully loaded wagons ready for our departure. Now you report to me that these onhangers need sustenance? Look at how many there are! And we still do not know exactly how far we need to go. Where is that useless amalgamation of bad advice? Voor!”

  Xodd seemed to drift into a bout of confusion for a moment, engaged in some phantom conversation. By now Block could recognize an argument with the artifact lodged within its captain’s form walls. “Sir, what’s it saying?”

  “Never anything of importance, you can be sure. It claims we are roughly two cycles out from a slip point, at least there was one there on a map in Limonur, although it can’t—”

  Voor’s pilgrims appeared on the scene as if by magic at the call of their name. “You can rest assured that we are close. Not much farther. I’ve been searching for secret fountains and have had some small luck.”

  Xodd was still angry about the interruption but let it slide. “How far away and how much?”

  “Oh, quite close and a fair amount. Enough to feed everyone until we get into the Empty Node I would think.”

  “And then what? I find this coyness and reliance on your abilities annoying and disturbing.”

  “As you should,” signaled Voor with a hint of playfulness that Xodd did not find amusing. “I would expect nothing less from a great leader and that’s exactly what we need and shall turn you into. Necessity it seems would demand it.”

  “I’m not sure I like the implication of your assertion. You would do well to remember that I command here, and I can easily smash your cores into fragments.”

  “Come now captain. We must cooperate here. You have something that you want to do, and our interests align. That is all I meant.”

  Xodd did not appear particularly placated but now a group of company members and rabble followers was beginning to accumulate around their discussion. Xodd decided to make the best of it. “Sergeant Block! Get a detail together and follow Pilgrim Voor to this secret fountain. Send groups out to it in shifts for refreshment. Then gather up what you can to replenish our own supplies. Organize them into work parties as well; see what you can do to find or improvise any additional containers so that they can survive the trip into the Empty Nodes. Make sure they all know that is where we are going and that they should turn back now if they are not willing to risk their coherence.”

  The orders were obeyed, and the raw source collected. Within a cycle they were back on their way with wagons loaded to the brim and every source-being satiated to the point of bursting. The vanguard of their column reached the vertex edge barrier without a single decoherence due to starvation or enervation. Only a small number of followers changed their minds and wandered off to try and make it to Limonur. Xodd was certain that they would perish.

  They hovered onward along the barrier’s edge searching for a slip point. An idea had been growing inside Xodd’s transom, slowly at first, but now with more energy. The catalyst had been the mention of a slave revolt by the bumbling idiot Block. Xodd now fantasized about the possibility of inciting such an uprising in the nodes controlled by the council. Inerts were conditioned to obey, but if a general like itself could thwart its own conditioning and rebel, the common soldiers and workers might be swayable as well, especially if they had a paragon such as Xodd to follow as an example.

  The vision of Xodd at the head of a massive army storming the citadel of Instrumentality was disrupted by an annoying signal. “Captain, there it is! Oh, and it’s a small one. Almost as if it were a sign or omen telling us not to enter,” signaled Block. Xodd gave Block a blistering stare from its transom. They were alone up at the head of the column: an unfortunate situation which always seemed to lead to a harangue of complaints about their destination. Sadly the others were all preoccupied with seemingly more pressing matters: Malador was tinkering on their weapon with the Old Alchemist, Grivil was supposedly assisting, Groz was skulking or perhaps sulking somewhere still in mourning for the loss of its boon companion Mong, Voor was never around when needed.

  “Your cowardice is discouraging sergeant. I need heroes to lead my legions. You are all I have now, so you will have to do but remember that you can be replaced: painfully too.”

  “Yes, sir! Losing me would be painful, no doubt. I will try to do better. It’s just that I have a feeling once we step into that node, well, there is no way back.”

  “You can leave sergeant. I a
m not the monster you believe me to be. Not anymore at least. I have changed somehow. I will tell you this: you have served me well and been useful. If you so desire, take full rations and depart. I—owe you that. But if you go, you will miss something glorious and epic, of that I am sure. Also, don’t forget the secret treasure vaults.” Xodd tried not to laugh at their mentioning.

  “Sir, what could possibly be glorious and epic in that node? I’m not stupid. There aren’t any treasure vaults awaiting us. I just keep that going to motivate the soldiers and keep this rabble in line. But we both know that the only thing ahead of us is a certain end. You can’t beat thousands and thousands of soldiers.”

  “Watch yourself sergeant. I am Xodd. I have never been defeated. I will have the treasure that I seek. Revenge will be mine.”

  Block thought to object to the truthfulness of the captain’s assertion but wisely refrained. All it could do was stare nonplussed. Xodd began to fidget and it was clear that the Librarian had no such constraints. Flustered, Xodd signaled out loud: “Let me keep my conceits, you insufferable chatter box. I will have my revenge. You swore you would help me. I have had setbacks, but I will never be defeated.”

  “Sir,” interrupted Block, “Voor is here.”

  Xodd stopped mid-argument. “Ah, so it is. Pilgrim Voor, we seem to have arrived at the slip point. What awaits us on the other side?”

  Voor’s lead pilgrim formed two guide tendrils gesturing with a motion upward to indicate perhaps that it was not certain. “We shall see.”

  Xodd was disconcerted. “What exactly does that mean? You must know what lies ahead if you propose to lead me into nodes that no rational source being would travel.”

  “It has been a long time but I’m reasonably sure that not much has changed. I visited there once long ago, after a comrade disappeared to enact its self-imposed exile. I was curious as to what lay within. Six nodes, at least as far as I could determine, were all born at the same time. They contain some of the wildest flow terrain imaginable. They also appear to be completely devoid of any source fountains. Why this is so? I cannot tell you. I did discover some interesting properties of the ether while I was exploring.”

  “I don’t like puzzles Voor. Explain yourself.”

  “You will see. You will be amazed. If you want a chance to strike back at your creators, you will need the Codex. You will also be able to use the Empty Nodes to bypass most of the long dangerous approach down the Pilgrim’s Road to Instrumentality. It is there that you wish to go, is it not?”

  Block fidgeted in utter dismay bordering on panic. “Sir, you can’t really be thinking of going to Instrumentality, the very capital of the council. We will all be enslaved or decohered. More likely the latter I would suppose.”

  Xodd ignored the sergeant. Voor had somehow managed to figure out the full extent of Xodd’s ambitions. “Pilgrim Voor. Let’s stop playing cryptic games.”

  “So, your friend has informed you of the existential struggle that we face?”

  “This parasite is not my friend. And I put no stock in its fables of universe devouring demons bottled up in orbs. But I know that the Endarchs value this artifact of theirs more than anything and that it is hidden somewhere in Instrumentality. I will destroy it and thus achieve my revenge.”

  “Perhaps it is good that you do not believe the Librarian. It might dissuade you if you knew what you were really up against,” signaled Voor with a chuckle. “But destroying the orb will not be easy. You cannot do it alone.”

  “Artifact? Orb did you say,” muttered Block now starting to fidget even more. “That brings back an old memory. Honestly I remember, honestly I remember—”

  One of Voor’s pilgrims jostled Block with a poke of tendril that promptly knocked it out of its loop. “Interesting, your sergeant here seems to have encountered some Mesmer programming of a very potent nature. It is good that we will visit with the Codex soon.”

  “What is this Codex?”

  “You will see. Patience. I cannot tell you. We must show you. And you must start to build up this army of yours. The Codex will help with that as well perhaps. In the node ahead we will put on a demonstration that will increase your standing, cement their devotion, and ensure your survival. You are not what we had in mind, but you are the hero I was given, it would seem. So it must be. With Privil’s Landing occupied by the enemy, perhaps they will be distracted enough to give us a chance.”

  “I grow tired of your riddles,” signaled Xodd. “Lead us into the node.”

  They crossed through the slip point; the change in the flowscape was dramatic: odd textures, rising geometric columns, a seemingly hidden pattern to the placement of everything. The Old Alchemist was enraptured, insisting that it be allowed to stop and take samples. Malador and Block only managed to dampen its incessant, dangerous excursions away from the caravan by hiding its tools. The column proceeded onward, taking the occasional break to rest for short intervals and distribute source rations.

  Supplies quickly grew low. Block fell into a bout of morose depression as it tried to ration out the ever-diminishing stockpile of life sustaining source. Voor, now coalesced into a single entity, hovered alongside Xodd at the head of the caravan. As Xodd followed the Djenirian deeper into the node, a second vision came to it: an army of followers forged in the cauldron of this Empty Node, devoted to Xodd and willing to follow it anywhere that it led them, even to the gates of Instrumentality. Xodd gave orders that henceforth everyone was to share equally in their supplies; Block was now nearly delirious with anxiety. So far, they had not lost a single source being to starvation, although a few had wandered off away from the column as the journey had progressed, never to be seen again.

  Two more cycles passed. Their supplies were completely exhausted. Xodd had never felt such hunger before, except perhaps during the brief time that it had desperately craved more alien essence. Slowly in dribs and drabs the followers began to fall off from the column to decohere when they could no longer muster the energy to move forward. The Drothgar were sturdy beasts but soon they too would be unable to continue. Xodd fought off the onset of delirium and dedicated its last remaining strength to ensuring that no original company member was left behind. There was nothing to be done for the rabble that followed; Xodd now began to regret the foolish gesture of sharing out the rations.

  The effects of the starvation intensified; a new vision came to Xodd: more potent than any of the previous ones. Xodd was caught in a violent ether storm, and yet all was still. Xodd started hovering forward. There were ovoids, fellow source beings traveling alongside: some familiar, others not. The storm broke; the massive outline of Instrumentality’s impregnable hexagonal citadel appeared directly ahead. Xodd rushed forward at great speed, passing through the main gate, up the main boulevard, then through the citadel’s gate, to halt at the entrance to the Endarchs’ seat of power; there was a brilliant disturbance in the ether. A large glowing orb now erupted out of the dome of the citadel to hover above the city. Three grotesque tentacled shapes emerged; Xodd was afraid: a fear unlike any other it had ever experienced. Then the vision faded, and the hunger struck Xodd like a war club of solid flow.

  “We are here!” announced Voor halting at the top of a small mound that was crowned with a henge of fantastical flow pillars: organic shapes of luminescent flow that looked as if they had sprouted out of the flowscape on their own volition.

  Xodd had no idea how long they had been traveling. Time seemed to flow differently inside the node but measured by their now vanished source stockpiles it had been long enough to empty them, even with extreme conservation. Xodd glanced back at the column of hovering ovoids, wagons and their malnourished Drothgar and felt a wave of horror and revulsion wash over itself. This was no army. This was a band of desperate and starving outcasts, little different than a camp of source farming peasants.

  “Now it is time for you to perform a miracle,” signaled Voor leading Xodd to the center of the circle of odd pillars. “You will call
forth source from the ether and feed your army.”

  “These nodes are empty of source fountains Voor,” replied Xodd bitterly. “That is why they are called the Empty Nodes. You have led us here to our doom. Sergeant Block, bring me my club!”

  Block struggled to snap to attention but could not, so depleted were its information-energy reserves. The sergeant had trudged wearily onward without signaling a single thought, robotically seeing to the feeding of their weary companions at every stop. Xodd looked to Malador who hovered a short distance away outside the circle of pillars, but the little siege engineer was just as deflated. More of the company now caught up and began gathering around them just outside the circle: Groz, Grivil, The Old Alchemist; other company members, ovoids whom Xodd had trained at Fullfeffer’s manse, whose names Xodd could not keep straight; Pipper who had tended wounds and often acted as a makeshift aide-de-camp; over a hundred slaves and miscreants who had blindly followed Xodd into the certain decohering embrace of the Empty Nodes.

  “Now is the time for you to save them Xodd but wait for them to gather around so that all may witness,” insisted Voor with what Xodd thought to be a rather silly expression on its form walls.

  They waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually every single member that remained was gathered in a circle, interspersed among the strange flow pillars. The stillness of the ether was oppressive: a palpable viscosity undisturbed by any background signaling, so exhausted were those gathered around Xodd.

  “Show Them! Save Them!” came the signal from Voor. It rang out like a call from a watch tower for all the assembled to receive: a desperate plea for salvation that was echoed by every transom present in the gathering. Xodd felt the energy of their attention bore into to the very essence of its information core.