by Adams, Tom
Blazej didn’t have the sort of features Merrick would have expected for the leader of a group with such a dramatic name. Like Karapetian, he wore a three piece suit, but unlike the Hierophant it hung from his twig-like frame as if draped over a clothes horse. His face told the story of a man who had known hard times. The pain of torture, both physical and mental, seemed to inhabit every line of his pale skin. His round-frame glasses did little to soften the effect. He nodded politely after Lazlo finished his introduction, then continued to stare at Merrick. He’d been the one who flinched when Merrick attempted to pierce his mind defence.
“And this is Naomi Kaonev,” Karapetian continued. “She is Queen of the Vril.” Merrick caught Albany smirking out of the corner of his eye. Indeed, the woman’s appearance would have invited ridicule in another setting, even if her pretentious title hadn’t. She looked to be in her late fifties, judging from the wrinkles around her mouth, yet her long wavy hair hanging to her waist hadn’t the slightest hint of grey.
“I extend to you the warmest of greetings from my people,” she said in an accent that Merrick couldn’t place. He smiled back at her, kicking Albany under the table as he did so.
“You won’t have heard of the Vril,” she stated. “If it wasn’t for these perilous times you would have no doubt remained in ignorance. We rarely have dealings with the surface world.”
“The surface world?” Merrick said.
“The Vril are a subterranean people and live in the hollows of the earth,” Karapetian said by way of explanation. “They are a most valuable addition to our forces as their numbers are counted in thousands, and their kingdoms are found on every continent.”
Merrick’s eyes widened. “I’m impressed,” he said, “especially as you’ve kept yourselves hidden for so long.”
“Occult orders are, by their nature, hidden,” she replied with a kind smile. “You could say we are the most secretive of secrets.”
The breakfasts arrived and Merrick joined Albany in attacking the food. Karapetian explained the nature of the alliance and all that had transpired in the last six months. Merrick appreciated that Karapetian wanted to be seen as the initiator in the discussion. The way he proceeded had an air of I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you show-me-yours about it.
“Here’s what we know,” Karapetian began. “Shamon has attracted a host of significant orders to his cause. Unlike ourselves, he has absorbed them under the common banner of the Ukurum. He demands total obedience from his acquisitions, and the more coercible, together with those who lack moral judgement, think they’ve joined the winning side.
“Having listened to Shamon’s philosophy,” Merrick said, “I think you might be mistaken about his allies being forced to bend the knee.”
“Hmm, voluntary loyalty versus coercion. Just talk to Albany about how much he believes that.”
The irony of Karapetian lecturing on moral certitude wasn’t lost on Merrick. “What sort of numbers are we talking about?” he asked.
“Having now acquired the second largest, and oldest order—The Thule—they number over ten thousand.”
Merrick puffed his cheeks out and blew. “That’s a colossal size. How does such an organisation remain undetected by international intelligence?”
Blazej leaned forward. “It is not without reason that we name the secular world’s population the jaded ones. The Ukurum, and indeed our allies do not operate in the secular realm. We don’t form political organisations, terrorist cells or revolutionary groups. We have always been more interested in understanding the realms that lie beyond. The secret services have much more pressing matters on their hands than investigate what they see as a loose collection of the deranged.”
“But Merrick,” Naomi interjected, “We’ve heard from Jason that Shamon’s forces now include civilisations beyond the gateways. Is this true?”
Merrick remembered again the hideous Necrolytes, and the pitiful but formidable horde of Amorphic. “I’m afraid it is. We defeated a pack of them in Turkmenistan, but Shamon is breeding them by the thousand in a world called Celebrai. Although, breeding is an inaccurate term. They multiply in nutritive tanks housed in vast chambers. We saw one of these rooms, but I’m sure he has more. Who knows? Perhaps he’s found other gateways and recruited more populations to his cause.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Albany said, deciding to take a break from toast consumption, “Shamon is building an army in Celebrai. He’s not doing it to put on a stage production. He’s planning for war.”
The three alliance leaders shared solemn expressions. It was Karapetian’s turn to speak. “We now know of Shamon’s gateway. We house another and Naomi here guards a third in the Americas. I have to ask you, Merrick; do you know of others?”
Karapetian secreted stress hormones and leaked them despite his best efforts at concealment. It was a loaded question.
Merrick looked at Albany then said, “We located a gateway just north of Shamon’s stronghold. He himself had sought it but was unsuccessful. We passed through to the other side.”
Karapetian turned to face the other two leaders, who both nodded in some coded agreement. “It is as we heard,” Karapetian said. “Tell us of the world beyond.”
Understanding he had passed a test, Merrick continued. “It seems that the Şahşah gateway is a junction between realms. Celestia and I had little chance to explore but what we saw led us to believe there was at least one advanced civilisation in existence. What’s more, its history and culture closely parallels our own.”
Merrick went on to share all he knew of the gateway and his experience in Shamon’s stronghold. After he had finished, Blazej and Naomi asked him more questions until they were satisfied he’d revealed all he knew.
“It is as told in our Vril scrolls,” Naomi said. Having completed the Great Work, the Dragon from the East rises and calls together his armies from the realms.
Blazej raised his forefinger. In a surreal moment, Merrick expected him to cast a spell, until he realised it was a mannerism—an annoying one at that. “I’ve no doubt Shamon is planning the conquest of our world,” Blazej said, “but at present, he can’t appear from a gateway and hope to overthrow the world’s governments using military force. He needs time to infiltrate the seats of power, influence decisions, persuade others to his cause.”
“That could take decades,” Merrick said. “Has he that much patience? By the time he’s crowned king of this planet, or whatever, he’ll be a doddering old man.”
“This is where you should know your enemy,” Karapetian said. “Shamon is the embodiment of the Ukurum—its essence is older than any living vessel.”
“Karapetian speaks truly,” Naomi said. “Even our scrolls say nothing of the Ukurum’s origins. It no doubt predates mankind.”
“So—Shamon is what, possessed?” Merrick said.
“Nothing so crude,” continued Naomi. “The essence of Ukurum manifests itself through him. Once, Shamon was a man, a seeker of knowledge. On the day he invited Ukurum in, their spirits became one.”
Merrick took a mouthful of coffee as he mulled over this revelation. “Can he, in fact, be destroyed?”
“Shamon?” Karapetian said, “yes—he is but a man, an earthen vessel, and like any piece of pottery it can be smashed. But the Ukurum—you don’t kill it, for it isn’t truly alive. It will lie dormant for a while until it finds another host.”
“Then I guess we’re stuffed,” Merrick said.
“Not so,” Blazej said, “to vanquish the Ukurum one must uncreate it.”
“Uncreate—what’s that?”
“It’s a magickal act even more profound than the great work. To perform it requires an adept of great knowledge and experience.”
“Not to mention, power,” Karapetian added.
“Do we know of such a person?” Merrick asked.
“Alas, no,” Karapetian said. “The problem with the act of uncreation, is that no one has ever done it before.”
~~~
> Chapter 32
Catch the rainbow
Karapetian drew a close to their breakfast meeting as he had to speak with other key personnel. Jason had to oversee the Hierophants’ military training schedule, while Blazej and Naomi attended to unspecified commitments. They agreed to meet later that morning to begin developing a strategy.
Merrick and Albany retreated to Celestia’s room. They were both laughing. No doubt, Mike had shared a tale from his army days.
“Well, someone seems to be on the mend,” Merrick said. He saw Celestia’s face was flush with colour—a big improvement on the pallid skin he’d seen when carrying her the previous night. In fact, the only outward sign of trauma was the dressing applied to her head.
“Oui, she said. “The Hierophants are in a league of their own when it comes to apothecaries and doctors.
Albany and Merrick had brought food up from the breakfast room. Celestia and Mike took no time in tucking in to the delicious fare. Merrick shared what had transpired with Karapetian and answered questions from both of them.
“So it’s an alliance of convenience,” Mike said.
“Well, I can hardly see it lasting,” Merrick replied. “What do you think, Albany? You were pretty quiet in there.”
“Yeah, I usually find it best to keep my mouth shut. Karapetian fed us a lot of information. I just wonder how much he’s holding back.”
“Better the devil you know?” Mike said.
“If you say so,” replied Merrick. He went on to question Mike about his financial assets.
“I’ve dispersed your funds amongst seven offshore bank accounts,” Mike said between mouthfuls. “I’ve triple-locked them and liquidated as many shares as I can without causing a ripple in the wider investment community.”
“Fast work, mate. Have you had any joy contacting your friends in the mercenary business?”
“Some. But, as you’d expect, they want to know more about the gig—and, of course, I can’t tell them anything beyond the bare bones.”
“Who do you trust?”
“I trust them all. The difficulty’s going to be convincing them to jump in on our fantastical project without them thinking we’re a few peas short of a casserole.”
“Don’t worry about that. You set up a meet with them, preferably all at once. I’ll take care of persuading them.”
“They’ll want a wad of cash to take on such an uncertain mission.”
“Negotiate, but be generous. Money’s the least of our problems.”
“I thought negotiating was your forte.”
“It is—but patience isn’t and I have other fish to fry. Can you handle it?”
“I think so.”
“How are we all feeling?” Albany said. “I mean—apart from Celestia.”
“About as rough as a badger’s arse,” Mike said. As if to emphasise the point, he rubbed the bruise on his head where Farrago’s men had coshed him. The burnt patch of hair on his scalp was obvious and did nothing but accentuate his dishevelled look.
“I couldn’t get any sleep on Karapetian’s plane,” Albany said. “It was all I could do to stop myself throwing up.”
Merrick recalled the hasty departure from Friseneit and the private plane’s bucket ride back to England as it plunged through a storm over the North Sea.
“Looks like we could all do with some more rest. Let’s get our heads down for a couple of hours. We’ll need to be clear-headed for later.”
Before he left the room, Merrick turned to take a last look at Celestia.
I thought I’d lost you, he sent.
Do not fret mon cher, I’m more of a resilient falcon than a vulnerable butterfly.
The reference to Lotus was significant. The bond with Celestia was a strong one, but it conflicted him. She was receptive to any advance he chose to make, but this mission, this quest, prevented him from exploiting the situation.
Get some rest, he sent. I’ll call in before I meet with Karapetian.
With that, he departed and allowed a blanket of sleep to cover him the rest of the morning.
~~~
Merrick attended Karapetian’s meeting feeling a little on the back foot. Albany and Mike weren’t invited and he still lacked a full grasp of the escalating conflict with Shamon.
The venue was an unfamiliar chamber, located beyond the Central Hall. Upon arrival, the room impressed Merrick with its size, architecture and variety of people assembled there. Most were sat around a long, rectangular table of polished oak. Some stood in pairs or threes, discussing matters both significant and intriguing. Merrick counted eighteen individuals but more arrived by the minute.
He gravitated towards Naomi as she was the only familiar face in the throng. She greeted him with a warm smile and they used the time to share respective backgrounds and experience. He found her manner guileless and intelligent. Every sense told him she was an ally he could trust, and one who possessed significant strengths. Yet, she withheld the depths of her mind from him—an understandable position to take. She sensed his power and would have been foolish to open the door to her consciousness given the nature of those present.
Not all the delegates were as cautious, or even as skilled in subterfuge. His third eye surveyed the room and picked up the richest cocktail of hormones and intentions his psychonautics had ever been exposed to. Amongst one trio, a disparate group of men, he detected an intense aura of mistrust and caution. They were heads of minor orders; reluctant participants in what they saw as a power-play among the more senior representatives in the room. He’d seen the situation many times in his negotiating career. The smaller companies always on the defensive in their dealings, wondering if they were about to be taken over. The larger concerns were, more often than not, confident and unrefined in their discussions. Magick was little different from business in this respect.
“So you see,” Naomi said, “it is quite a momentous situation the Vril find themselves in. The fact we have ventured beyond the subterranean realm in such numbers, speaks of the significance that Shamon’s threat poses.”
Merrick wanted to learn more of the Vril, but at that moment Karapetian, Jason and Blazej entered the room. All the delegates took this as a signal to take their seats. Merrick agreed to meet with Naomi later to continue their discussion.
Karapetian laid some papers down at the head of the table and started to speak even before everyone had settled.
“We need to start right away. So you’ll forgive me if I dispense with the usual formalities. Please do not take it as a sign of disrespect.”
Every eye was on Karapetian. Just as it had been in the congregation before the British Museum operation. He was in his element.
“We have all met already, and many of you know each other, but this is the first time all have gathered in one place. I understand the trepidation many of you feel about such a communion; I also have a keen awareness of the reason for it.”
He poured himself a glass of water, took a sip and continued. “Our alliance now comprises of seven orders. It represents the combined strength of over ten thousand adepts ranging from mages to arcane warriors. A formidable company indeed. By my calculation, it is the largest union of its kind assembled in the last two millennia.”
Merrick thought about this announcement. Karapetian had accomplished an incredible feat considering the rivalry between occult orders. He took the psychic temperature of the room, detecting barely concealed animosity from a minority. Yet the overwhelming atmosphere was one of accord and relief. There was safety in numbers, and all present knew how Shamon could have picked them off with ease if they remained isolated.
What Karapetian said next caught Merrick off-guard. “I would particularly like to welcome Merrick Whyte to our council. Although he doesn’t hold the rank that some of you enjoy, as the only known Psychonaut alive today, I hardly need emphasise how significant it is that he’s sat at this table.”
Heads turned towards Merrick and a wave of respect rippled towards him—res
pect he wasn’t sure he deserved.
Detecting that Merrick greeted the approbation with awkwardness, Karapetian moved on. “At this juncture, I’m going to ask Jason, my second in command to update us on the enemy’s movements.”
Jason decided to stand. A formality that had more to do with his diminutive height than a required convention, or so Merrick guessed. “We now have accurate information about the orders the Ukurum have assimilated. As of this morning, Ardus Obsidian have thrown in their lot with Shamon.”
The news caused a stir amongst the delegates, necessitating a call to order from Karapetian.
“This follows the assassination of Vale Sangrey, their Grand-Master. There’s no doubt the two events are connected. Our intelligence revealed the adept who took his place is Redcap Krauss, known to have Ukurum sympathies. I don’t need to tell you how disappointing this is.”
“Disappointing?” A white-haired delegate spoke up. “It’s disastrous. The Ardus Obsidian are the third largest order in existence and their knowledge of magickal coercion is second to none.”
Jason raised a calming hand. “This is true, but the leadership is unstable. They may prove to be more of a hindrance to Shamon than an asset. Let me continue, it’s not all bad news.” Jason went on to list the orders that had gathered under the Hierophant banner. As the list went on, the more agitated members of the alliance settled.
After a couple of questions from the floor, Jason announced the command structure agreed from a previous meeting, and elaborated on the areas of responsibility and expertise each order would adopt. The detail was somewhat tedious but Merrick paid close attention to it nonetheless. He’d learned from countless board meetings that success in a venture often relied on the small details, and how these fitted the bigger picture.
There were some objections, most notably from the Christanti and Immaculatan orders, but Jason allowed Karapetian to mollify the dissenters. Merrick saw again how Karapetian managed the role of diplomat, letting the antagonists know they could stick their complaints up their arses, yet go away feeling pleased at the prospect.