by Adams, Tom
“Sorry,” Merrick said, shaking his head. “You’ve read me all wrong. I don’t perform on command. Besides, the only gateway I know of is back in England.”
“Fascinating. Between you, the power of a farseer and the talent of a Psychonaut, you are still unable to recognise a portal when you are next to it.
Merrick and Celestia scanned around, suspicious of a trap.
“Stand easy,” Shamon said, rising. He crossed the chamber to a large, sequined wall tapestry and pulled it across like a curtain. Revealed beneath was the swirling, shimmering vortex of a gateway, extending in an arch to the floor.
To Merrick, it was a departure from the several he had seen already. The vertical surface appeared as mercury, silver and fluid in its motion. Now he could see it, he found himself drawn. “You’ve passed through?”
“Many times. I can see you are reluctant to transfer, but no matter, why not let me show you what I have accomplished?”
“Be careful,” Celestia said. “No good can come of this.”
“It’s your decision,” Shamon said. “Come, Lotus. Let us see how our new world is developing. These two can remain if they wish.” He picked up a vial and poured a small amount of liquid onto his fingertips. With solemnity, he rubbed it into the skin of his forehead. Lotus stepped up to join him, looking over her shoulder at Merrick.
“Bize girişine izin,” Shamon muttered. His hand performed an arcane gesture and the centre of the gateway dilated like an oil drop on water. “After you, my butterfly.”
Lotus stepped into the quicksilver convergence and let it consume her. Shamon followed, while Merrick and Celestia remained with only the company of the guard.
“Curieux,” Celestia said.”
“What’s his game?” Merrick walked over to the gateway and projected his mind through. He saw Shamon and Lotus converse in front of what looked like a row of aquaria.
“What do you see?” Celestia asked, once she was sure his mind had returned.
“They’re in a large chamber, talking. It’s filled with hundreds of tanks containing … to be honest, I don’t know what.”
“Should we follow?”
“I can’t read his mind from here, but I can’t think we’ve anything to lose by joining him. Besides, I don’t want to let Lotus out of my sight now that I’ve found her again.”
“Merrick ...” she looked down.
“What?”
“Maybe you’re going to have to accept that Lotus is ... lost to us.”
Merrick looked at her, a conflict of emotions following one another in quick succession across his face. “I’m not giving up yet. I’m going through. Coming?”
“Of course.”
He took her hand, pushed with his mind and led her into the unknown.
~~~
Arun Sihanouk had waited with patience for fifteen minutes or so. He perched high up in a crevice near the ceiling of a roughly hewn chamber, muscles tense as he held himself there. He had watched Ukurum rush underneath in both directions, but he couldn’t stay aloft much longer. Gravity would see to that.
They’re either captured, or worse. He weighed his options, then dropped to the floor, cat-like, creeping from the chamber back the way he had come. Twice, he blended with the shadows as a group of patrolling Necrolytes bounded past. He knew he was close to Shamon’s central hub-chamber, and saw two guards ahead, either side of the doorway. Their heads moved this way and that, keeping vigil; matted, kelp-like hair fell bedraggled over sinewed shoulders. They drew slobbering breath through mouths guarded by a lattice-work of cartilage and misplaced teeth.
No way past without them spotting him. He knew he’d have to use more than stealth. This was going to drain him but he must needs go that the devil drives. Shakespeare was an unlikely source of inspiration, but then Arun was well-read.
He summoned his chi and leapt out of concealment. An observer at the scene might well have rubbed their eyes at what happened next. Indeed, he caught the Necrolytes completely unprepared. Arun pounced forward, disappeared, then materialised in front of them an instant later. Whether this was misdirection, illusion or teleportation, Arun had never ascertained. He knew only two things; he was expert, and it took a heavy mental toll on him.
Having fought alongside these warriors in many skirmishes, he knew their strengths and weaknesses. Necrolytes used their genitalia as weapons. Like certain insects, a sharp phallic scimitar could unsheathe spontaneously from between their legs, dealing butchery and evisceration at close quarters. Arun counted on this reflex, and he wasn’t disappointed. In other circumstances the action could have brought forth mirth, but in the heat of battle it was a dangerous tactic to laugh at it. Here also lay a weakness, for beneath the lethal organ lay huge but vulnerable testes. As the phallus’ sprang erect, Arun delivered two disabling uppercuts to their nether regions. The beasts doubled over in agony, leaving the backs of their necks prone. A simple, noiseless rabbit punch delivered to the large nerve running over the cervical vertebrae, was enough to kill them outright.
The larger they come ...
He lurched from exhaustion then, recovering himself, dragged the bodies through the doorway and into the corner of the room. A large floor rug was perfect for throwing over their inert forms. Shamon’s chamber was close. The residue of his presence hung in the air, an olfactory quality he hoped would never again enter his nostrils. He crept silently towards its source.
~~~
Beyond the gateway, they found Shamon and Lotus waiting, flanked by two Necrolytes. Merrick had a sense of being weighed down, like something compressed him, clamping his feet to the floor.
“I knew you would come,” Shamon said, “the attraction of limitless worlds is difficult to resist.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Merrick said. “I’m just keeping you both in my sights, so don’t pull any fast ones.”
Shamon nodded in mock deference. “Welcome to Cebelrai. You will already feel the effects of this world’s stronger gravity. Get used to it. By the way, I’m impressed with your ability to access this dimension almost without effort. I can see why Karapetian wants to keep hold of you.”
Merrick ignored the compliment, knowing it was a tarantula in a gilded box. He sensed Shamon change tack.
“The civilisation here is primitive and the inhabitants compliant. They are an easy race to dominate.”
Merrick let the man talk. Let him preen himself while I figure out what to do.
“Miss Barone, what does your far-sight tell you of the city?”
Celestia’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Hordes of creatures packed into over-crowded dwellings. Many living on top of each other. There’s an atmosphere of hostility and aggression— mainly towards each other.”
“Your talents are also impressive. It is true—their civilisation is emergent but unstable. A multitude ripe for falling under the banner of a strong leader. Especially one who has the resources and will of the Ukurum.”
Shamon could shield his thoughts to some extent from Merrick, but couldn’t conceal his motivations. He gave them the impression of yielding information—with the subterfuge of eliciting their own secrets. Take care with what you say, he sent to Celestia. He’s a snake in the grass.
Bien sûr, I’m onto his game.
Merrick found it hard not to keep watching Lotus. He tried to read her but Shamon shielded her too. He could force his way through the screen but both she and Shamon would know. “What’s in the tanks?” he asked, trying to lay a distraction, “inhabitants of this world?” He stepped closer to the nearest one. Through the murky green fluid he made out a humanoid shape, floating. Pipes extended from sockets up and down its naked torso and legs. Dozens of foot long needles pierced its face and shaved skull.
“They are what this populace is becoming. The Amorphic.”
“They’re alive?”
With a movement that caught Merrick off-guard, the creature within sprang forward against the glass. The eyes were bleach-de
ad, staring out at him.
Shamon gave a gutteral laugh at Merrick’s fright. “They’re physically robust and have lightning reflexes—both adaptations to Celebrai’s stronger gravity. My apothecaries have enhanced the qualities in these morphing tanks. The Amorphic are prone to suggestion making them perfect soldiers and numbering in thousands. The population grows daily.”
“You’re building an army?”
“The tools of conquest. Tell me, do you think Karapetian and his pathetic, mongrel band of misfits can challenge me now? He must have barely, what, two thousand personnel at his disposal?”
It was a crude gambit and Merrick didn’t bother replying.
When Shamon received no response he lifted an outstretched arm. “Follow me. I will show you more.”
They stepped past row upon row of Amorphic tanks for several minutes, finally emerging into daylight through an open door. Merrick estimated there were at least five thousand tanks in the storage chamber they left behind.
Despite clear skies and a blazing sun, the temperature was sub-zero. Merrick rubbed his hands together to stave off the chill, taking in the alien smell of the place. They were on a parapet overlooking a city. Sandstone dwellings stretched far beyond the curvature of the horizon in every direction, the uniform dun colour broken only by periodic columns of rock. These formed tall towers, pock-marked with key-hole apertures. The cityscape had more in common with a termites nest than humanoid architecture.
“You see before you a city under my command. There will be more to come.”
“What precisely are you trying to accomplish with this guided tour?” Merrick said.
“You need to see what you and the Hierophants are up against.”
So he doesn’t know that Karapetian and I have parted company.
The Ukurum leader continued. “Surely you can see the futility of your resistance?”
“What I see,” said Merrick, “is the nightmare our world faces if we don’t confront you.”
Shamon stroked his beard. “You think you have the moral high ground in this struggle? Karapetian’s motives are similar to my own. The difference is my openness about them.”
“Jagur is right,” Lotus said. “Think of the lies Karapetian peddled you. How he used you for his own ends. Jagur has different methods, but he’s never concealed his true intentions.”
Merrick was offset by Lotus’ intervention, wrong-footed by an observation that was, for the most part, true. “And your stake in this is ..?”
The black pool behind her eyes swirled. “The opportunity to become who I am meant to be.”
“Love under Will,” Shamon said. “You are familiar with the axiom?”
“Crowley’s raison d’être, yes. The perfect pseudo-spiritual cop-out for anyone who doesn’t give a fuck.”
“You’re clearly ignorant in such matters. I sense a conflict in you I have seen in many others. You cannot confront and address your true self. You have power, Mr Whyte, great power. But your ill-thought ideals prevent you from realising its true potential.”
“Or,” Merrick said, “they act as a check—a balance to megalomania.”
“Megalomania?” Shamon smirked. “It’s just a word. I prefer to think of my attitude as rising to greatness. I have been cruel, ruthless and determined, I don’t deny it. But there is a purity in this. I do not lie to myself or to others. You take pride in your so-called morals, but they are a crumbling foundation—and the reason why the Hierophants will fail.”
High sounding words, Celestia sent, don’t let him take you in.
Don’t worry, I’m playing him. I need him to reveal what he knows.
“Jagur,” Merrick said “may I call you Jagur?”
“Why not? I may be relentless but I’m not uncivilised, despite Lazlo Karapetian’s portrait of me.”
“I sense an overture in what you’re telling me. You know I’m a pragmatic negotiator, so let’s have it out. Assuming I go along with this ‘Do what though wilt’ shit. What exactly am I buying into?”
Shamon looked at Lotus, then back at Merrick. “That’s a fair question. You would be investing in a different outlook. Understand that in my order, there is no coercion. Every member, from my lieutenants to the lowliest initiate, is here because they want to be.”
That had to be a lie. If it was, Shamon presented no indicator to signal the fact.
“There is no doubt you would be a great acquisition for the Ukurum. Also, a great risk. You would be afforded a station reflecting that dilemma, to be reviewed as you were initiated further into our lore.” He stepped over to the wall and looked out at the city. “Cebelrai is but the start. There are worlds beyond these, with resources that you or I can only imagine. How does it sound, Merrick—ruler of your own world?”
“Then you know of other gateways?”
A look of veiled amusement crossed Shamon’s face. “I can see what you’re doing. But that, I’m afraid, is not something I will disclose at present.”
Merrick shrugged at the verbal parry. “You know, Karapetian saw me as an acquisition too. You’re just trading me as a commodity, a passive tool for your use. What have I gained?”
“Everyone gets used,” Shamon replied. “Even myself. Why, Lotus here has gained as much from me as I have of her. Isn’t that true, my butterfly?”
Merrick looked directly at Lotus. “Yes, do tell me, Lotus. What did this man offer that you should throw away what we had? I want to know.”
“Merrick,” she tilted her head again in a fashion that revealed her transgressive evolution. “You seem to think I’m a helpless female and you’re here to rescue me, but I’m not the person you thought you knew. This is what I was born for, and there’s no turning back.”
~~~
Chapter 25
Slipping away
More Necrolytes. Arun saw them through the entrance to Shamon’s inner chamber. But was the Ukurum in there? It was times like this he wished he possessed Celestia’s far-sight. Close quarters intuition in combat was no substitute.
He heard nothing save the phlegmatic breathing of Shamon’s guard.
What to do? His warrior’s instinct told him Merrick and Celestia weren’t far away, yet the silence intimated they were beyond his reach.
With no clear plan of action, he faded into the shadows of the antechamber, and waited.
~~~
Celestia felt the mental strain. With her sense of hearing, she took in the conversation between Merrick and Shamon, accepting now that Lotus’ allegiance was with the Ukurum. With her farseeing sense, she coupled with Merrick’s consciousness, following his beckoning, back through the passageway they had come. He was probing the storage chamber, reaching out—and something was responding. Throughout her cerebral gymnastics, she had to maintain the shield that stopped Shamon’s penetration of her guard, all without revealing a trace of emotion.
I’m going to make a move, she received from Merrick.
Je ne sais quoi—
In just a moment. Get ready to run back to the chamber. We won’t have much time.
What do you plan to—?
Celestia didn’t need a signal. When it happened, it came as a surprise to everyone.
“I offer you a destiny,” Shamon said. “Don’t let your jealousy over Lotus prevent you seizing this opportunity.”
Merrick looked away for a second. “You know your problem, Jagur? You’re too hung up on your ego.”
With barely a ripple of warning Shamon was propelled backwards. Merrick held out his hand like a metaphysical conductor, concentration written on his face. His mind-force pinned the Ukurum chief to the wall behind, raising his body up the wall until he dangled, over fifteen feet up.
Anger creased Shamon’s visage into a mask of hatred as he threw back a shaft of elemental force. Merrick deflected it as if swatting a fly, but didn’t let up. He rotated his hand, watching Shamon’s body twist like a vertical carousel until he was upside down.
Sacre bleu, he is powerful, Cele
stia thought. Who would have known ... ?
Celestia, run. Now. I can’t hold him much longer.
She made to retreat, but saw Lotus, recovering from the shock-wave that issued from Merrick’s epicentre. She had a weapon; an ornate dagger pulled from concealment. Her intent was clear, and Merrick had his back to her. Celestia was too far away to intervene, but maybe she didn’t need to.
“Lotus.” Her cry produced the desired effect. “Take me on. I’d like to teach you a lesson about betrayal.”
Lotus darted her head back and forth, clearly undecided. It was all the time Celestia needed to close the distance and deliver a numbing kick to Lotus’ flank. She crumpled under the blow, the knife skittering across the floor.
She heard Merrick cry out. It was the sound of exertion, not pain. He threw Shamon to the ground with inhuman force, the stone cracking with the force of his impact.
“Back to the chamber,” he said to Celestia, and stumbled after her.
As Celestia raced through the doorway she pulled up short. A wall of water cascaded towards her like a torrent.
“Merde.” she had time to say, before the brackish liquid threw her back. Her body collided with Merrick’s, sending them tumbling back onto the stonework outside. They lost all sense of direction as the water gushed over the terrace. Her head struck stone time and again; whether walls or floor, it was impossible to tell. When she finally came to rest she saw the swell of water sliding over the crenellations of the terrace in a green, foaming waterfall.
Lotus helped a dazed Shamon to his feet. Celestia wasn’t in good shape herself, but she felt strong arms lift her up and drag her back to the chamber.
“We’ve got the jump on them,” she heard Merrick say and her spirits lifted with the prospect of escape.
Then she saw the Amorphic approaching. Multitudes of anaemic, scabrous forms, clambered over each other as they stepped into the light. A blanket of claustrophobia covered her as the swarm approached.