by Eve Langlais
So what were the cons again?
The road led them to a mountain, and when he tried to go around and past it, the cog pulsed once, strong enough to send him to his knees, dizzy. Then it stopped doing anything at all.
Ursy knelt by his side. “Are you all right? What happened?”
“We’re here.” He stared at the mountain that wasn’t a mountain, covered in vine and moss.
Ursy dropped her goggles onto her nose and gasped a moment later. “I think it’s the latmevilium blob we saw from the sky.”
Not in the raw as they’d wondered but shaped into a building. Could it be a missing Mecha God temple?
He might have gotten a bit of an erection at the idea. The chances of finding one were miniscule. Only five in their entire history were ever documented, one on his home world, the other four in entirely different galaxies. Of them, two were destroyed by a catastrophic event.
The one they found appeared octagonal in shape. He did a circuit twice to make sure of his findings and tried to keep all his cogs on the level.
Ursy made the comparison first. “It’s not built like the Mecha temple back home.”
“None of the ones discovered thus far shared the same kind of shape. Not to mention, only one other temple ever used latmevilium as a building block.”
“So you’re saying it’s not a temple?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Could be it’s just a coincidence that we came across a planet with a large deposit of it.”
She cast him a sharp gaze. “This is not a coincidence. Is the cog in your thumb saying anything?”
Holding it up, he shook his head. “Nothing. Not even a twinge since we arrived.” As if, having brought him this far, its job was done.
“How do we get inside?” she asked.
Taking a few steps back, he stared up at the towering monolith. “I think it has to let us in.”
The claim made Ursy snort. “You just sounded like a Mecha priest. Believe and the door to the gods shall open,” she intoned.
“You laugh, and yet each temple has a few high priests capable of commanding the mecha inside.”
“You think we’re high priests?” Ursy rolled her eyes. “I’m agnostic, remember?”
“Proving the point,” he said, warming to the subject. “If religion has nothing to do with it, then wouldn’t that mean there is no such thing as a high priest and it’s just the temples reacting to certain biological properties of the person?”
She blinked at him. “That was a complicated way to say certain bloodlines activate it.”
“Could be our blood.”
“Are you really willing to throw some blood on that thing to see if it will open?” Ursy eyed the overgrown building with skepticism. “What if we give it the wrong stuff and it gets mad?”
“You mean sucks us in and devours our flesh?” Wulff grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure that’s never happened.”
“That we know of. Yet you just had to mention the devouring, didn’t you?” she grumbled, eyeing her wrist then the mossy lump.
“Tell you what, let’s skip the blood-letting for tonight,” he said, glancing up at the darkening sky. “In the morning, we’ll explore a bit more when we have more light.”
“No, let’s do it now. Why sleep outside when we might find a roof over our heads or maybe some god’s old bed.” She winked, and before he could stop her, she sliced at her palm and dripped the blood on an exposed edge of the structure.
He reached out and drew her away from it. Not that it mattered. Nothing happened.
“Your turn.” She shoved at him, and he took a slow step toward the building. Would his blood be special enough?
A slice of his dagger created a gash over the pad of the thumb with the gear. The wound filled with blood, and yet through it, he could see the metal. He took it and pressed it to a different part of the rock, ensuring blood and cog made contact.
He held his breath a little too long.
Hoping and waiting for a rumble. A sign.
Nothing.
“Guess we’re not high priests,” she announced.
“Guess not.” A bit disappointing if you asked him.
“In the morning, we’ll blow a hole in it,” she declared.
“You and explosives.” He gave a shake of his head.
“I like things that go kaboom. You should know that.” She grabbed hold of him and drew him close for a kiss.
He returned it, starting out soft, trying to remain gentle. A wet drop splattered him. It rolled down his cheek warmly. The kiss went on, but as more raindrops fell, it became something fierce.
After their talk earlier, he felt as if they’d reached some kind of understanding. No matter what, they’d stay together. It added an element to his embrace. Maybe it was the drenching storm that helped, too. The warm shower might be outdoors, but it proved more erotic than the one onboard the ship.
Under its cleansing sluice, they stripped, hanging their clothes over branches for a rinse. Giggling as they chased each other in the rain.
When he caught her in his arms, her naked slick flesh slid against his.
“I could do this forever,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Me too.” The soft admission part of her kiss.
A leaf, bowed by the weight of the water pooling on it, made a perfect ground sheet on which to lay her. Her slick perfection called to him. Athletic, her body nonetheless had a defined waist and pert breasts. He cupped the pair, weighing them in his palms while he plucked the tips to erection with his fingers.
Half lying between her legs gave him great access. Bending his head, he took the tip of a nipple into his mouth. A soft cry exhaled from her lips, and she arched her upper body. He didn’t lose his grip, remaining latched on, his mouth sucking at the erect bud, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin.
A tremor went through her, and she moaned, undulating under his touch. He switched breasts and lavished the other with the same attention.
Her fingers threaded through his hair and gripped his head, rough and demanding. It made his caresses a more robust, the nips of his teeth a little sharper. The tugs hard enough to make her cry out.
To arouse her even more than he’d seen thus far.
“Yes. Yes. Don’t hold back,” she murmured.
The words spurred him to drag his rough jaw over her smooth skin, scraping it as he traveled down over the slope of her belly. A nuzzle of her mound had her jerking her hips.
He slid farther back and spent a moment staring at her, at the gleaming metal ring in her clit, the silken texture of her labia. The moisture he could see and smell.
He needed a lick. A nice, long lick. He spread her lips and tasted her. Flicking his tongue against her core, teasing her nub with its piercing.
She panted while moaning and every so often said, “More.”
He flicked his fingers against her.
She sucked in a breath.
He slapped it again, a little harder, and she uttered a strangled yell and her whole lower body quivered.
“Tell me.”
“Do me.”
“How?” he growled, aiming for her piercing and giving it a yank.
“Give it to me hard. So hard.”
“Not until you come for me first,” he growled as he kissed her flesh. A soft start before the rapid back and forth with his tongue against her clit. But he wouldn’t let her come.
He gave one final lick then moved himself over her, covering her slick body with his own, nudging the entrance to her sex with his shaft. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. He pushed against her damp flesh, the tightness of her making him suck in a breath. He drove into her, a hard thrust that had her grabbing for him and digging her nails into his back.
He pounded her soft flesh, sinking to the hilt. Her sex fisted him tight.
Faster they moved, their flesh slapping, even as it kept pouring. Their lips joined at the moment of climax, and his hips thrust forward
one last time as he came.
A moment of perfection that finished in a clap of thunder. Then nothing but humid heat as the forest tried to absorb the rain.
They fell asleep, entwined together, and when he woke, he found himself alone. Ursy gone as if she never existed. The eight-sided temple still sealed. And yet there was a certainty in his gut that she was inside.
He pounded at its solid bulk. “Give her back!”
Only there was no reply.
17
“The temples aren’t holy. Think of them more as time capsules waiting for our discovery.” – The Agnostic’s Guide to the Mecha Bible
Ursy woke, staring at a light. A really bright light. Considering she went to sleep in the forest in Wulff’s arms, this invariably caused some consternation.
Sitting up, she found herself on an altar of metal pounded thin enough it was almost sheer, and through it, she could see a mechanism. Flywheels and pinions, gears and cogs, moving slowly.
Swinging her legs over the edge, she glanced around and discovered she sat in a room very similar to that discovered in the temple on her homeworld. She just had no idea how she got inside.
And where was Wulff?
She stood, only belatedly realizing the floor might hold a trap. Breath sucked in, she listened and waited. Nothing came scything out of the wall.
Carefully, so very carefully, she examined the room. Unlike the temple of stone and metal Jool Ius’verrn found, this one appeared comprised entirely of latmevilium. A veritable fortune all around her. More metal than they could ever possibly need. Even if it weren’t the fresh sentient variety, there were ships that could use the metal upgrade. A certain broken zeppelin came to mind.
Taking mincing steps, alert for signs of treachery, she moved from the altar and noticed pedestals ringing the room. They each held a gear. Some of the cogs appeared as big as her hand. Others tiny like the one in Wulff’s thumb.
There existed a longing inside her to take one, take them all. With them in her body, she would become…someone else.
She clamped her lips against the humming need to grab them. She had enough cogs in her body. Of more concern, why had the temple taken her? What did it want?
Take us. Now. Quickly before it’s too late.
It was as if the place spoke to her.
She replied aloud. “Why have you brought me here?”
We need you.
“Need me for what?”
She saw rather than heard a reply. Saw the lava bubbling higher at each of the poles, the mist widening then disappearing as the red took over the planet, covering it in a layer of molten ore.
“When will that happen?”
Soon. Now. Quickly. Before it’s too late.
The voices, because there appeared to be more than one, rang in her head.
“Why me?” Why ask her and not Wulff?
You want it more than him.
Did she?
There was a time, yes, she had. She wanted it more than anything in the universe. But having a lot of gears didn’t make her happy.
Wulff made her happy.
“I don’t even know what you do.” Then again, neither did Jool Ius’verrn, the first of them. How brave of him to take the first gear not even knowing what would happen.
Gather us. Time is short. The great turn of the gear is coming to an end.
“What gear?” It was only then she saw a mighty machine underneath her. It moved so subtly she never suspected it was there. She dropped to her knees, hands pressed to the thin metal tiles to get a better look.
“What does it do?”
Keeps the world safe.
“Is it broken?” she asked, noticing it moved, but barely.
Hurry. Gather us before it’s too late.
Rising to her feet, she noticed in dusting her hands they remained clean. The entire temple appeared spotless, cared for and waiting for someone to come along.
Save us.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do. My ship is destroyed.”
Help is coming. You must act now.
First off, she didn’t like the commanding tone. Second—
Boom.
The explosion caused a vibration in the metal all around, and for a moment, the voices stilled. Then yelled. Quickly, before he destroys us like Marius did.
Wait, what did Marius Snype have to do with this?
“Ursy!” She heard Wulff yelling her name. “Are you here? Answer me, dammit.”
He’d come looking for her. She smiled and hollered a reply. “You wouldn’t have this problem if you’d wear your communication cog.”
A moment later he appeared in a doorway, looking disgruntled but relieved at the same time. “I hate people listening in on me.”
Her lips twitched. “Especially since you’re so loud in bed.”
“Your fault,” he said. He stepped into the room and, despite all the treasure around them, had eyes only for her. “How did you get inside?”
She shrugged. “No idea. We definitely found another temple.”
“The temple can go frukx itself. Are you injured?”
“No. But a little worried. The mecha parts in this room spoke to me.”
“Spoke?” He arched a brow. “What did they say?” He didn’t accuse her of lying or making things up.
“It wants me to gather them all and escape before some big bad thing.”
“And when is this big bad thing supposed to happen?”
“Imminently if it’s to be believed.” She glanced down at the floor. The machine had stopped. “I think you broke the giant gear clock.”
He frowned as he followed her gaze. “Are you sure?”
Judging by the yelling voices? “Yeah. Can’t you hear the gears in here hollering?”
He rolled his shoulders. “I try to ignore voices in my head.” He grinned. “Unless they tell me to take off your clothes.”
“That’s your other head talking. And we have more important things to figure out right now, like what to do. I don’t like the fact they’re talking to me.” She wrinkled her nose. “But if they’re right, we might not have much time.”
He finally took his gaze off her to peruse the room. A low whistle escaped him. “That’s a lot of parts. More even than the temple the first explorers found.”
“The voices said something about Marius destroying some.”
“The Tinqqer?” He frowned. “That doesn’t sound right. Is it possible he never created the god gear at all but stole it instead?”
“Doesn’t really matter who made it. It exists. And the pieces in this temple appear made in the same design.”
He strode toward a display and eyed it. “How did they get here? Who built this place?”
Before she could reply, there was a rumble underfoot, the kind that shook her and caused the entire building to groan as it shifted.
“What the frukx?” Wulff exclaimed.
The voices screamed. The cataclysm is coming. We must flee.
This time Wulff heard the voices, or so she surmised by the widening of his eyes. “Did I just …” He shook his head. “Okay, I see what you meant now. Just one problem with the mecha demands. We don’t have a ship.”
Gather us and we will provide.
“Do we have any other choice?” she muttered.
Wulff joined her in a circuit of the room, gathering the cogs and stuffing them in the sack he wore on his back. A few asked her to give blood, that they might merge.
She declined, and she noticed Wulff resisted, too. There was something uncanny about having them speak. A reminder of the mecha parts’ alien sentience.
The building rumbled a few times, and a crack appeared in one wall, through which sifted some mist.
“We need to move,” Wulff advised, the bag bulging as he slung it over his back.
“How did you get in?”
“I made a hole.” He led the way, only to curse the moment they stepped outside. Thick mist hung in the air, the moisture h
ot as it entered their lungs. Smoky, too. The goggles kept it from pricking their eyes. She drew a fabric mask over the bottom half of her face.
“What should we do?” she asked.
“Climb.” He pulled a small, spiked device from his waist and shot it at the building. The hook hit the surface and sank in, dangling a rope that clipped to his belt. He held open an arm, and she latched herself to him. A moment later they were aloft, rising above the steaming ground. Just in time, as it split and lava spilled over the edges of the crack.
Midway up the building, Wulff aimed again, digging a crampon higher up, making sure it was secure before unlatching the one holding them. They flew up again, doing that several times before reaching the tip of the structure. Ursy grabbed hold of the lip and swung herself over.
Just as Wulff went to move, the world shook again, hard enough he lost his grip. She flung herself flat on her belly and reached for him, only to snare the strap of the knapsack with gears.
He slipped from the straps, and only the tether saved him. He dangled and cursed.
“Hold on. I’ll grab you.” She looked for a spot to place the knapsack, wasting precious moments in doing so.
No, you don’t have time. Take us into you. With us inside your body, we can survive.
She frowned because she understood that the survival they spoke of didn’t include Wulff. And she had a problem with that. Especially as she recalled when as a child she’d dropped her cookie. A small thing, yet when it hit that puddle and became inedible, the tears had welled because that cookie would have tasted so good and there were no more.
Zak laughed as he shoved his own treat into his mouth and groaned in delight.
As for Wulff, he never even hesitated. He gave her his own cookie and punched Zak. He always had her back. Could she do any less?
18
“The Mecha gods would have you put metal parts above all else, even family. Yet, without love, without caring, what’s the point?” – The Agnostic’s Guide to the Mecha Bible