Arthr nodded, though he immediately forgot what she said. Kara gave a hum of approval, and with that Annika closed the bathroom door behind her. A few moments later, the sound of running water began to drone. Kara flopped backward onto the bed, and Arthr heard the springs creak as she bounced on its surface. He felt like throwing up. Outside, an encore of the evening’s rain began to patter against the window, competing with the white noise of the shower. The combined stereo effect was grotesque in Arthr’s mind. It was the sound of the roof—it was his failure, echoing.
Chapter 2
Takeover
Panic. Terror. Silt had never been alone in his entire life. Even when he locked himself in one of the server rooms to be away from the other Vant’therax and Marauders, the churning blue latticework behind his eyes had always been there, carrying echoes of the thoughts of the others, of the Conduit, of NIDUS. But now the silence was oppressive. Dead air, the sound of blood rushing through his temples. The feeling of complete isolation was nearly too much to bear. And so he now stormed down the halls of Sector Four, toward the command center that served as the brain of the lower tunnels.
When he at last came to the control room, the door hissed open on its own. Without the constant hum of the neural network, the sound was alien to his ears, somehow sharper and more upsetting. Inside, he found two other Vant’therax awaiting him. They looked up as he entered, their wretched faces scarred by fear and confusion.
“Silt,” Kaj said, “what happened? Do you know anything?”
Stomping inside, Silt shook his head. “Nothing. Just a frame of a thought that came through right before the cell collapsed.” He couldn’t even bring himself to sneer; he hated Kaj, but regaining contact with somebody was a relief. “Dwyre’s dead, isn’t he?”
Kaj growled and slammed his fingers against the console he hovered over. The sleeve of his ornate yellow robe billowed as he moved. “If you have any other theories, I’d love to hear them. If he’s dead, that means his body’s somewhere. Has anyone taken care of it?”
“And just what would inspire you to ask me?”
Kaj’s fist struck the control panel, and a crack ripped through the plexiglass covering. “Well, Nal isn’t exactly speaking, is he!?”
The other robe growled his discontent, and Silt couldn’t help but feel bad for the two bastards. They must’ve been just as terrified as he was. “What do we do now? Without the Conduit—”
A roar of static cut from the wall-mounted speakers around them. The abrasive sound melted into a lo-fi voice. “Gamma squad to main, do you copy? Repeat, Gamma squad to main.”
With a snarl, Kaj groped another slanted panel for the com-switch. His slender fingers found it, and a soft click muted the static. “This had better be good.”
A moment of quiet, and the voice came again. “Tau and Phi squads are present at the gate and requesting clearance to enter. What is your reply?”
“Phi?” Kaj made a face like he’d just thrown up in his mouth. His gaze dipped to Nal, and then to Silt. The corners of his lips started to vibrate.
Silt shook his head with a ragged breath. “They know. They’re not wasting any time.”
That vomit-look came back to Kaj’s face. “Goddammit!” He punched the com-switch hard enough that the whole room shook. “Deny access! Tell them everything is under control!”
Another silent moment, and then the speakers came alive with a chorus of staccato pounding. Shouts echoed beneath the report of gunshots. “Negative, we are taking fire! Repeat, we are taking—”
A blast of white noise washed the man’s voice away. The line went dead. Silt looked at Kaj, who just stood there, unmoving. “Didn’t think they’d make their move this fast,” Kaj said. His face twisted, a half-smile growing from beneath the violent glint in his eyes. “One must admire their ambition.”
“You’re excited by this.” Silt meant it as an accusation, but his voice couldn’t carry its weight.
The smile stood steady on the half-man’s lips. “I always did hate the Tanners.”
For a while, the only sound was of sirens bleating somewhere in the buried tunnels of concrete and steel. The three of them stood, eyes upon the sealed door to the command room. It didn’t take long for the reverberations of booted feet to rumble through the floors and into their bones. Silt forced himself to breathe calmly; his heartbeat began to slow.
The door hissed open, revealing a wall of yellow-coated Marauders, heavy weaponry at the ready, and two men in the center dressed in fine business suits. One was gray-haired, beset by wrinkles, eyes narrowed in a permanent scowl. The other, a head taller, sported blond hair and a face pitted with bright blisters of acne. Silt frowned. The damned Tanners. Kaj was right.
“Only three of you?” the elder Tanner asked, casting his gaze through the poorly lit room. “Where are the others?”
Nal grunted, his lips trembling as they tried to move. But the chitin growths along his jaw and mouth held him taciturn. Silt thought he looked like he was trying desperately to contain his fury.
“No, don’t answer that,” the old man said. “What I want to know is what the hell happened to Dwyre. What did you insects do?”
Silt said nothing. Kaj stood there, silently grinning.
“You fuckers want to answer him?” the younger man said. “Or do you want to make your confessions to a loaded chamber?”
Kaj, his eyes intense and unyielding, stared down the members of NIDUS and their pet soldiers. “You’re trespassing, Mr. Mayor. What is the meaning of this?” His voice carried a hint of irony; they all knew what he wanted.
The elder’s nose tensed, spreading deep lines that radiated through his cheeks. “Shut your damn mouth, insect.” He slipped inside the doorway, followed by his son. The first rank of coated mercenaries was only a few steps behind as they crowded into the room. “We’re taking over this operation. Without Dwyre, someone must man the helm of NIDUS.”
Kaj slid a step closer to the man. “Awfully presumptuous of you, Mr. Mayor. Perhaps you’d like to put it to a vote among the others before you kill anyone else in your ambition.”
It was the junior who answered him. “That won’t be necessary. Dad’s in charge now. Whatever’s left of your troops are under our command, and the scientists will now report directly to Dad. No more middle man. Just results.” He smirked, as though relishing his own eloquence, and made a sharp motion to the men behind him. A second rank of coats filed into the room and raised their assault rifles.
“Now,” Mayor Tanner said. “Get your hands up.”
Silt obeyed without complaint, lifting his arms slowly. Nal growled and followed his lead. Without a Conduit, it would only take one stray shot to end what remained of their tenuous lives. But Kaj gave them each a chilling look of disgust before slinking one further step toward the Tanners. Several guns cocked in reply.
“Stay where you are,” said the young Tanner. “Or we’ll blow you back to the Yellow King.”
At that, Kaj began to laugh. “What do you know of the Yellow King?” Another step toward the kid. “You invoke His name as though it’s one of your university buzzwords. Like it’ll land you a follow-up interview with Daddy’s secretary.”
“You can’t talk to me like that anymore,” the kid said, shit-eating grin dividing his topographically intriguing face from ear to ear. “We’re the leaders of NIDUS now, and—”
In the blink of an eye, Kaj rushed forward and grabbed him by the throat. He lifted the younger Tanner into the air with one hand, replacing his words of pretentious self-elation with a strained choke for air.
The mayor reeled back a step. “Michael!”
Silt let gravity reclaim his arms. “Kaj. Wait. This isn’t—”
A wet snarl ripped from Kaj’s throat. “What’re you going to do, Mr. Mayor? Going to command your pets to shoot? Tear your son to shreds in the crossfire? Though I’d love the irony, it would be perhaps too poetic for the likes of you. I have no need for such drama, so let’s just l
ay our cards on the table. You think you can claim the throne of NIDUS so easily? We are NIDUS!” Kaj’s arm tensed, and the young man’s neck snapped with a loud crack.
“Michael!”
A phantom pain flashed through Silt’s mind, carried to him through the neural parasites in his brain. One hand gravitated toward his throat.
There then came a furious, hungry howl. Kaj reached out with his other hand and, in a single grotesque motion, pried the young man’s body in opposite directions. The sound of the ripping quivered through Silt’s stomach. Blood streaked through the air, irregular fountains splattering against the ground and Kaj’s yellow robe. The younger Tanner, sans throat, struck the ground and seized in a rapid convulsion.
His father’s anguished scream came and then vanished beneath the deafening roar of half a dozen machine guns opening fire. Silt drew back a step, arms crossed over his face, but nothing touched him. It was Kaj they wanted. Tracers strobed, turning the metal walls and floor into mirrors of fire. Kaj’s yellow robe fluttered, tore, and ran with blood. But he did not fall. For what seemed an eternity those shots rang, a continuous strain of thunder. And one by one the guns fell quiet, exhausted of their ammunition.
There Kaj still stood, arms just as he’d left them, his fingers clutching torn flesh. His yellow robe was streaked with ribbons of blood and fresh tatters. Beneath the ringing in Silt’s ears, he could make out two sounds: the last choking breaths of the Tanner boy’s life, and Kaj’s insane laughter. Kaj began to move, at first so slowly it could have merely been his robe fluttering in the air conditioner’s breeze. He made his way over to the mayor, who cowered as he approached. The Marauders, magazines empty, tried to retreat toward the door as he made his way past them.
When Kaj stopped before the elder man, his whole body went as rigid as a statue. But the mayor did not recoil. He just stood there, trembling, tears in his eyes. “M-Michael . . . y-you . . . ”
Kaj’s lips stretched around a single menacing word. “Beg.”
The mayor took in a sharp breath, audible even beneath the oppressive ring the machine guns had left. “What?”
“Beg for your life. Or you will meet the same fate as your son.”
At once, the loss in the man’s face multiplied. A high-pitched whine crawled from the back of his throat. He sank to his knees, his hands clasped together before his face. “P-please, don’t kill me. I, I didn’t . . . I meant no disrespect. We—”
Kaj smirked. “On the ground.”
Shaking, Tanner sank to the floor and prostrated himself before Kaj, his face flush to the steel. “Have mercy. You are my master. I, I pledge fealty to you and you alone. Forgive me for my arrogance. Please.”
Kaj’s grin grew yet wider, a near-orgasmic ecstasy overtaking his features. “See, isn’t this much better? The lowly humans pledging allegiance to the Vant’therax. It is fitting. But . . . ” His smile mutated into a scowl. “No. It is not good enough.” His leg rose from the ground, and in a flash slammed into the back of Tanner’s head. A wet, muted crunch, and it was over. So ended the Tanner legacy.
Silt grimaced, his knuckles winding tight. The look of horror on the faces of the Marauders was almost worse than the visceral cramping in his stomach as Kaj ground chips of bone and brain matter into the floor with his heel.
Breathing heavily, Kaj raised his face to the stunned gunmen. The nearest of them recoiled, shrieks and shouts of panic bouncing between them. “Your coup ends here,” Kaj breathed. “You belong to us now. New bodies, to replace the ones you stole from us topside. Any objections?”
Not a soul raised a voice to contradict him. They just stared, bug-eyed and slack-jawed.
With a low, contemptuous rumble of laughter, Kaj turned back to Silt and Nal. His arms and shoulders, covered in blood and torn tissue, glistened with the fresh sheen of chitin growing from the damaged flesh. Both arms hung at his sides, stuck in rigid shapes as though he were loath to touch the wounded tissue as it chitinized. “Well, that is one problem settled. There remains the matter of the Conduit.”
Nal gave Kaj a sidelong look and grunted an inquisitive sound that perfectly vocalized Silt’s own curiosity.
“Settled?” Silt asked. “What would you propose we do from here? Simply kill anyone who enters?”
Kaj flicked his wrist, and loose droplets of blood rained upon the floor. “No need to await the intruders. It occurred to me that there may be a silver bullet. One with which to kill many birds at once.” Their eyes met, and Kaj’s irises betrayed a quiet fatigue—a fatigue owing perhaps to the volume of blood he’d lost in the assault. “Silt, go find the rest of the Vant’therax. Gather back here and await our return. Nal, I want you to take a few of our new acquisitions on a little journey. It’s high time we paid the Websworn a visit.”
Spinneretta and Mark walked on across the barren wasteland, white mists lapping at their ankles all the while. The rolling hillocks at the base of the mountains grew nearer as the hours passed. The towering peaks seemed to stretch taller as the cloud cover gradually thinned above them. By the time the ground had begun to roll like the bulging waves of the open sea, Mark had at last relented to telling Spinneretta about what had happened the previous night.
“I asked you before why it was that nobody knew about the existence of you and your siblings,” he said. “Why perfectly formed human-spider hybrids could have been so unknown. We found the answer. A secret organization that extends to politicians, scientists, commoners, CEOs. They call themselves NIDUS. The story of Raxxinoth and the Yellow King . . . as I feared, it is their bible. And in the pursuit of their King’s favor, they operate in the shadows of Grantwood and beyond.”
The amorphous fear of the rumored spider cult came back to Spinneretta in a wave of incredulity. “How . . . can that be?”
“I know not, but alas, it is. I cannot yet explain how, but they are responsible for you and your siblings’ births.”
One of her lower spider legs unfurled and scraped at the mist-concealed rocks by her ankles. A small but unignorable numbness. “Last night. Before you fell asleep. You said that you caused this. That the yellow-coats found us because you wanted them too.”
Mark grunted. His pace slowed until the pebbles about his feet clattered with each step. He let out a low sigh and turned his gaze skyward, to the deep gray strata of clouds and fog. “When we discovered NIDUS and learned of its ambitions, we also learned that they were desperate. Annika’s investigation had put them on alert, and they were looking for any opportunity to take you. So I created that opportunity myself. To bring them out of hiding on my own terms, so I could destroy their leader before he caused any more damage.”
She gasped. “Wait a minute, you’re telling me . . . that the bet was . . . ”
“I made the bet with you to create that window of opportunity. And had you won, I’d have just found another way to achieve the same effect. That night was important; with your parents in Eugene, it would leave you all vulnerable. NIDUS would be able to take you all at once without anyone knowing.”
As her mind processed his words, a violent heat began to grow from the pit of her solar plexus. “You used me for fucking bait!?”
He cringed. “I would not call it that, but . . . in simplest terms, yes.”
“I can’t believe this! This whole time you were just . . . ” Another gasp tried to choke her. “What about Arthr and Kara? If, if they were alone, that means the yellow-coats might’ve—”
“Worry not about them. Annika was to get you all to safety before anything bad could happen. I trust that she protected your siblings well.”
She bit her lip. “So that’s why you wanted me to go back to the park. To meet her.”
“Aye.”
Her thoughts reeled. She let her eyes drift over the fine stones underfoot, tracing the contours of the hard earth beneath. “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you hadn’t kept it all a secret then I wouldn’t have gone after you. I really thought you were in trouble, you know.”
A familiar sense of helplessness overcame her.
Mark frowned. “I could not. There was the risk that you or your parents may have been infested with the Nothem.”
“Nothem?”
“Mind parasites. We first learned of their existence while Annika was investigating. They are specially evolved from the proto-spiders to facilitate a psychic network. I later learned from plumbing their leader’s thoughts that they are the primary mechanism of control within NIDUS. In any case, I could not take the chance that you had that link with them. Keeping you in the dark was the only way to guarantee we had the element of surprise.”
It was a bitter answer, but one she couldn’t refute. It was too outrageous to be a lie, too unnerving to be anything other than the whole truth. “Did you learn anything else from plumbing his mind?” Her tongue almost tripped over the unfamiliar use of the word.
“Aye. Plenty. More than I could explain without a great deal of time.”
“I think we’ve got plenty.” The peaks were still a great distance away. Wherever they were going, they weren’t getting there anytime soon. “Did you learn anything about . . . why?”
“Why?”
“Why they made us. Why they wanted human-spider hybrids so damn bad?” The ever-present specter of her origins hung over her head like Death, daring her to take a step closer to the truth.
Mark’s lips thinned, and he averted his gaze once more to the distant mountains. “I’m afraid not.”
It figures, she thought. Who are you kidding, Spins? Answers aren’t going to come that easily.
Abruptly, Mark turned around and stopped in front of her, half-hunched over, bringing his eyes level with her own. “Tell me, Spinny.”
His sudden proximity startled her a step back. Her extra appendages automatically shifted to maintain her balance. “H-huh? What?”
“Are you feeling alright?”
Helixweaver (The Warren Brood Book 2) Page 2