by Chris Fox
“We’re at the bottom of the sea,” he muttered, taking a step into the room.
A flicker of light at the room’s center drew his attention. Several gemstones along the floor had flickered to life—a ruby, an emerald, and a pair of diamonds. They pulsed once, then a holographic form appeared above them.
“What the fuck is that?” Jordan rumbled, aiming his weapon at the hologram’s head. Blair assumed the gesture was reflexive, as Jordan’s posture was too relaxed for real combat.
“I think we’re looking at one of the Builders,” Blair said, taking several steps forward until he stood before the hologram.
It was roughly six feet tall, with mottled green skin the color of summer-cut grass. It had large black eyes, like a shark’s. Its arms were a bit too long, its limbs a bit too thin. Each hand had four fingers.
“Holy. Shit,” Trevor said, joining Blair near the hologram. “That thing is right out of the X-Files. Are you telling me the pyramids really were built by aliens?”
“That assertion is incorrect,” the figure hummed, its voice digitized but still recognizable English. “The structures you refer to as pyramids were constructed by humans during the early Holocene. They were created by a culture you refer to as the ancient Egyptians, during the fourth dynasty. The first was constructed by pharaoh Khufu. The second was…”
“He meant the Arks,” Blair interrupted. Part of him wanted to listen, wanted to ask how this thing knew so much about human history. It had been dead-on about Khufu’s pyramid. What else did it know? If only they weren’t so pressed for time. Steve and Irakesh were getting away even now.
“Ahh, the Arks were not constructed by aliens either,” the figure corrected. It flickered, fading a bit. A moment later it returned to full illumination. “They were constructed by the Builders, an early hominid that predated your species by six point four million years.”
Blair’s jaw sagged open. “So these Builders, they were born on earth then? How many years from the current date did they build the Arks?”
He’d asked the question to see when this thing considered humanity to have begun. That could mean Homo Sapiens, which was roughly 200,000 years old. Or it could mean Homo Erectus, or an even earlier ancestor. If that were true, it would make the Builders over 10,000,000 years old.
“Six point six million years,” the being answered, cocking its head. “Your genus first appeared roughly 200,000 years ago, while your species is nearly three million years old.”
“That’s great,” Jordan interrupted, finally joining them near the hologram. “Has anyone else passed this way recently? We’re looking for two humans.”
“Ah, the Ka-Dun and the deathless,” the figure said, nodding. It focused its gaze on Jordan. “They departed this room three minutes and sixteen seconds before your arrival.”
Blair stifled the urge to ask how this thing knew what a Ka-Dun was. “Where were they going?”
“To the light bridge in the southeastern section of the Nexus,” it explained, shifting those flat black eyes back to Blair. “I believe they are seeking the Ark of the Cradle.”
“Let’s move,” Jordan snarled. He stalked forward several paces, then turned a sheepish look to Blair. “Do you know which way the southeastern corridor is? I can’t get my bearings down here, and something is playing havoc with my compass.”
“That way,” Blair said, starting towards one of the doorways leading to the room. He counted seven of them, now that he’d torn his gaze from the hologram. Each doorway had a slightly different Ark glyph above it.
“Ka-Dun Blair,” the figure called as they started for the doorway. Blair turned, shocked that it knew his name. “Be aware that the Nexus has reached critical power reserves. If a conduit to a powered Ark is not restored within the next three hours, power will fail entirely, and this entire complex will be crushed by the ocean above.”
“Lovely,” Trevor said, already moving for the doorway. He looked back at Blair even as he glided forward. “Can we trust this thing?”
“I don’t know,” Blair shrugged, glancing at the hologram. It seemed benign, but appearances could be deceiving. “Either way we have to stop Steve and Irakesh. Let’s see if we can catch them before they reach the light bridge.”
The race was on.
Chapter 9- Osiris
An unremarkable servant in plain white clothes led Mark into the sitting room, the kind of library with all mahogany furniture and the thick smell of tobacco. A fire roared in one corner. It was the only source of light, as the windows were covered by heavy curtains. A figure sat in the corner opposite the fire. His features were thick with shadow, but his hands revealed a great deal. Too-pale skin with long fingers. Each nail had been expertly manicured, and his forearms revealed the heavily muscled frame of an athlete.
The door closed behind Mark. A floorboard creaked as the guard shifted outside. Then the figure rose, stepping into the light of the fire. His perfectly styled hair was dark. Not quite black, but something close to that. It bore the faintest hint of red, if that wasn’t a trick of the light. He wore a dark blue suit with a thread count as high as any Mark had ever seen. Armani, unless he missed his guess. This man could have swam with any of the sharks who ran the super-corporations springing up around the world. Until you reached his eyes. They glowed with a faint inner light, the horrifying green that conjured thoughts of Chernobyl. Those eyes made it abundantly clear this man wasn’t even remotely human.
“Ahh, the legendary Director himself,” the man said, his voice reinforcing the polished appearance, his accent not anything Mark was familiar with. “I’d offer you a hand, but I doubt you’d take it. Please, have a seat. It’s time we talked.”
The man, or whatever he was, sat back down in his chair. Everything but his horrifying eyes and charming smile were swallowed in shadow. He nodded at a plush armchair neighboring his. Mark hesitated for an instant, considering. If he sat, that would open a very small door. Agreeing to one task led to accepting another, then another, until it became natural to accede to the next one. That was a dangerous road, especially when the one guiding him down it was a creature reputed to control minds.
If he remained standing, he might make it through a short audience, but even now his legs had begun to tremble. He’d been unconscious for days, maybe even weeks, and if he pushed it, his body would fail. Fainting during the middle of the meeting would throw him far more off balance than agreeing to a simple request.
Mark sat. He leaned into the chair in spite of himself, letting out a more audible sigh of relief than he’d have liked. Then he waited as the silence stretched. This was the next test. Most people could not abide an uncomfortable silence. They’d say almost anything to fill it, often revealing things they’d never intended. Mark had used the tactic to great effect many times, and he wasn’t going to fall for it here.
“What must you think of me?” the man began, leaning forward in his chair to catch the firelight. He reached up with one thumb and pushed at his upper lip until it exposed his teeth. His canines were elongated in a way Bela Lugosi had made famous nearly a century before. “I have fangs. Unnatural eyes. Your brain senses I am a predator, and every instinct screams to flee. Even now your limbic system is flooding your system with adrenaline. Given your weakened state, that will carry quite a price in seven or eight minutes.”
He paused, giving Mark a chance to speak. Mark remained silent.
“Worse, you know I am affiliated somehow with the virus which wiped out over ninety percent of your species, a crime greater than any committed in your recorded history. So far as you know, I have, in a way, killed more people than all other causes combined,” the man continued, leaning back in his chair so only his eyes were visible. The effect was eerie, and no doubt quite intentional. “If there was ever an embodiment of the word evil, surely it must be me. You long to destroy me, yet even now there is another emotion slithering through your mind: fear. Fear that I can compel you to serve me. Fear that I have an unn
atural means of control.”
He paused, placing his pipe between too-white teeth. Then he waited, no doubt studying Mark’s reaction. It was the smart tactic. Time was on this thing’s side, not Mark’s. The clock was ticking, and he had to find a way to gain some tactical leverage. “You know who I am,” Mark said, finally. “Why don’t you grant me the same courtesy?”
“A fair request,” the man said, giving a half chuckle. He leaned forward again, eyes gleaming. “You’d know me under many names. I was Ah Puch among the Maya. Brahma among the Hindu. Usir is my current name, a mispronunciation of an ancient one. One you’ll recognize, I’m sure. Among the Egyptians I was called Osiris.”
Mark swallowed, blinking rapidly several times as he sought to process what he’d just heard. Part of him knew the physical tells would be used against him, but that just didn’t matter. This thing had been multiple gods throughout history. The revelation was nearly unthinkable. This being had likely guided the human race since the Pleistocene, and possessed the accumulated knowledge of that entire span of time.
“You’d like to ask about my motivations, I’m sure. What benefit could there possibly be in wiping out humanity? Why kill so very many people?” Osiris asked, giving an exaggerated shrug. He wore the type of smile that suggested he was enjoying this. “The situation is far more complex than that, I assure you, Director.”
“If you’re just going to compel me, why bother with the recruitment speech?” Mark asked. It was uncharacteristically blunt, but he was losing ground and had few options. He reached up to loosen his tie before realizing he still wore his hospital gown. Another tactic to keep him off balance.
“Oh, I’m not going to compel you, Director,” Osiris replied. He leaned forward again, his gaze deadly earnest. “I am so positive you will see things my way that I am simply going to give you all the facts. Once you know the extent of the situation, you can choose to stay and help, or I can have you flown to any destination in the world. Simply name it. Is that a fair enough arrangement, do you think?”
Mark hesitated for a long moment. “Go on.”
Chapter 10- Ark of the Cradle
Trevor kicked off a wall, using the momentum to fling himself around a corner. He rolled past a column, the strange black stone pitted and scarred. Maybe that was natural erosion, but it looked more like this place had seen battle at some point, probably recently from the bits of stone on the floor.
Lights flickered on as he passed, lending credence to the story the strange hologram had related. That alarmed the hell out of him, for a damn good reason. It was clear this place was at the bottom of the ocean, and just as clear it was ancient. Whatever power reserve kept it running was on the verge of running out, and if they were still here when it expired there would be no escape. They’d either starve, or the ocean would crush that big glass dome and everything inside, including them.
“We’re getting close,” came Jordan’s guttural voice, as an eight-foot-tall streak of blonde passed Trevor.
The commander’s furry form came to a halt outside a doorway that mirrored the one they’d come through when entering, though the glyph set above it was a little different. His enormous black nose sniffed, ears twitching as he listened. Trevor took the opportunity to drop back into the shadows, prowling to the edge of the doorway as well. Blair appeared a moment later, dropping into a crouch beside Jordan. They needn’t have bothered; their quarry was already aware of them.
Two figures stood on the center of a raised golden disk, just like the one they’d arrived on. Irakesh wore a condescending smile, green eyes flashing as he folded his arms. His ivory garments caught the light, making his dark skin almost black in the dim room. The figure next to him was much more recognizable, perhaps because Steve was bathed in a silver aura. It was the same aura Trevor sometimes saw around Blair, presumably when he used the power granted by the Ark’s access key. It made sense, since Steve had stolen just such a key.
The disk began to hum, a sound just beyond the edge of hearing. It was unmistakable, and Trevor knew what came next.
“We have to stop them now,” Jordan roared, blurring into the room. His pistol was already in his hands, and it coughed several rounds in Steve’s direction.
The time between deafening gunshots lengthened as Trevor began a blur of his own. There was a sort of doppler effect as his entire body accelerated. He leapt through the doorway, circling wide to the left as he watched events unfold. Irakesh had also begun a blur, carefully positioning himself between Steve and the rounds Jordan had fired. The bullets corkscrewed through the air, moving unerringly towards Steve’s face and chest. Each left a visible wake in the air, crawling towards their target as if in no particular hurry.
Irakesh plucked them from the air one by one, then flung each one back at Jordan, but Jordan easily evaded them. He dropped his pistol, leaping into the air above Steve. It was a smart tactical move for several reasons. Steve was the one initiating the light walk, so if they could stop him then they could also stop Irakesh. If they failed, their opponents would escape. It also forced Irakesh to stay engaged in the fight. If they went after him he could simply vanish—or, worse, create an illusion to distract them.
Trevor briefly considered drawing his own pistol, but decided against it. Firing it would give away his location, and he wanted to maintain the element of surprise. He glanced behind him, seeing Blair enter the room. Blair had a hand extended towards Steve, but whatever shaping he was doing was invisible. Trevor shifted his attention back to Jordan, who was descending towards Steve’s still human form. Then a bolt of green energy shot from Irakesh’s hand, catching Jordan in the chest and knocking him away from Steve.
Now, my host, his risen crooned. He didn’t need the encouragement; he was already in motion.
Trevor intensified his blur, planting a foot against Irakesh’s face and launching himself at Steve. The move caught the deathless off guard, and he knocked Irakesh to the edge of the platform as he sailed into Steve. Trevor’s flying tackle knocked Steve prone on the disk. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to have broken his concentration. The deep thrumming intensified, and the room was bathed in familiar white light. A moment later they were elsewhere.
Trevor gave it a once over, knowing he only had moments before combat resumed. The room, wherever they were, was dimly lit by the familiar diamond-shaped lights he’d grown used to back in the Ark of the Redwood. Fluted columns lined a pathway leading from the room, just like they had in the Nexus. The disk they’d landed on also mirrored the Nexus, which meant they were in another Ark. The Ark of the Cradle, if the hologram had been telling the truth. Trevor gathered that meant somewhere in Africa, where Irakesh’s mother ruled. Lovely.
“Fuck,” Jordan roared, flipping to his feet and blurring towards Irakesh. His meaty werewolf fist sailed harmlessly through the illusion of Irakesh’s face.
“Dammit,” Trevor muttered, leaping off Steve and back into the shadows. They’d failed to stop Steve from initiating the light walk, and it looked like Blair had been left behind in the Nexus. That meant the fight was two on two, more or less even. Except that Irakesh was older and more powerful than he and Jordan put together.
Another bolt of toxic green energy lanced from the darkness at the edge of the room, briefly illuminating it. The bolt sailed into Jordan, picking him up again and hurling him into the wall with a sickening crunch.
Trevor unleashed an eldritch bolt of his own, catching Steve in the face. The bolt knocked Steve from the platform, sending him slamming into the black stone wall where he collapsed. Right at Jordan’s feet.
Jordan leapt on Steve, tearing and biting as the two males snapped at each other. Jordan had the twin advantages of size and experience, so Trevor turned back to combat.
“Clever, my apprentice,” Irakesh’s voice whispered from the shadows. Trevor darted right, then left. He rolled behind a pillar. His evasive moments were probably unnecessary, but the last thing he needed was Irakesh getting the drop on h
im. The deathless had far better control of his powers, and centuries more experience. Trevor doubted he could take Irakesh on his own, but hopefully he could delay him long enough for Jordan to deal with Steve. “What will you do now, Trevor? We’ve arrived at the cradle, and without Blair you can’t escape. Even if you beat us, you’ll still have my mother and her attendants to deal with. Surrender, and she may show mercy.”
“Fuck you,” Trevor said, turning his attention back to Steve and Jordan.
Steve was on the bottom, clearly getting the worst of the exchange. Jordan hadn’t come away unscathed though. His fur was matted with blood, and one of his eyes scrunched shut in obvious pain. The two were apparently more evenly matched than Trevor had expected. He could do something about that, though. Trevor blurred forward, planting a hand against Steve’s shoulder. He reached into his reserves, flooding Steve’s body with the same awful radiation he’d just used at range. The move caught Steve off guard, and he began flopping about like a fish.
Jordan instantly seized the opportunity, ripping out Steve’s throat with his fangs. Then Jordan leapt to his feet, planting one furry foot against Steve’s chest as he seized Steve’s right arm with both hands. Jordan ripped with all his strength, tearing off Steve’s arm in a shower of hot, coppery blood. Trevor found himself licking his lips where some of the blood had splattered. A tide of hunger rose within him, but he forced it down as he dropped back into the shadows. Just in time. A bolt of green fire shot past him, catching Jordan in the shoulder. It knocked the Commander back from Steve, though Steve didn’t seem in any shape to capitalize on it.