by Chris Fox
“Just so,” Anput said, giving a soft nod. She reached for a sheer black shift and pulled it on, then moved to a high-backed wooden chair near a window.
Trevor moved to join her, sinking into a second chair. They sat at the edge of a balcony, which overlooked the Giza plateau. The view was breathtaking, showing Cairo in all its glory. The city was huge, possibly bigger than Los Angeles. Yet it was also empty. He could see no movement there, not a single corpse or even a bird.
“I have been tasked with teaching you to survive here, no easy feat given that you are an outsider,” Anput said, crossing one shapely leg over the other as she studied him. “To do that I must understand more of what you are. How did you come to be here?”
“By accident. I was pursing a Ka-Dun who stole an access key,” Trevor explained. He wasn’t sure how much he should reveal to Anput, but right now he didn’t have many choices. She was the only thing approaching an ally he was likely to find here. “Your husband ambushed my companions and I at the light bridge. After he kicked our collective asses, I woke up in a cell. I was presented to Ra, and then escorted here.”
“Interesting,” Anput said, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair, still studying him. “Anubis said you are of this age. Obviously you’ve had some training. Who sired you?”
“If by sired you mean trained, then I guess that would be Irakesh. Though I have no loyalty to that bald bastard,” Trevor snapped, instantly regretting the loss of control.
Anput cocked her head back and began a musical laugh. Her eyes twinkled when she stopped, and he noticed for the first time that she wore dark eyeshadow. It was so skillfully applied it could have been part of her skin.
“You are refreshingly honest, Trevor Gregg,” Anput said, her expression suddenly unreadable. “If you wish to survive in the court of the mighty Ra, that must change, and change quickly. Here, honestly is a liability. It reveals your true intentions, and such predictability will allow your enemies to engineer your death.”
“You’re implying some people aren’t my enemies,” Trevor shot back. He knew he was out of his depth. Politics weren’t his strong suit. Hell, social situations in general weren’t his strong suit. Before all this had begun, the happiest nights of his life had been spent observing the night sky at Palomar in San Diego. He was completely alone, save for the data and perhaps one or two grad students interested in that data.
“So you have a glimmer of intelligence then,” Anput replied, giving a coy smile. With anyone else Trevor might have assumed she was flirting. “Everyone here will seek to use you for one end or another, but that is not the same as being an enemy. Take me, for example. I’ve been given the task of making you presentable to the court. If I fail in this, I will lose status with Ra, and thus with the court. It is in my best interest to ensure that you are well groomed, that you have the tools needed to flourish here.”
“And in so doing you earn my gratitude. I’ll owe you a favor, right?” Trevor asked, narrowing his eyes. He already detested this game, though he thought he’d learned the first rule.
“Precisely,” Anput replied, giving him a warmer smile. “There is much to discuss, but before we begin you’ll need to quiet your mind. To do that we must first unburden it. I will permit you three questions. Choose wisely.”
Trevor felt like he’d just rubbed a lamp. Fortunately, long years of Dungeons & Dragons had prepared him for just such an occasion. The mistake people often made with questions like this was trying to learn too much. Aim lower, and you were more likely to get what you wished for.
“How can I make an ally of Anubis?” Trevor asked, giving Anput a wry smile.
Anput merely blinked for long moments, then burst into musical laughter once more. “You are a bold one, aren’t you? Anubis is not easily swayed, not even by me. If you wish to earn his patronage, you must prove yourself in battle. He respects strength, and little else. It will also benefit you if you adopt our cause, and prove your loyalty to Ra. Does that answer suffice?”
“It does,” Trevor nodded, considering her words. He needed a way to prove himself, but there was no immediate solution. One would present itself eventually, however. “For my second question, how can I convince Ra that I am useful enough to outweigh any threat I pose?”
Anput reached across the space between them, resting a cool hand on his leg. She stared up into his eyes, her own half-closed and sensuous. “I begin to believe you may survive here, Trevor Gregg. You may even thrive, if your third question is as inventive as the first two.”
Chapter 18- Conduit
Blair settled into a half-lotus at the foot of the central obelisk. Ka floated next to him, a ghostly green hologram. Its translucent form appeared stronger here in the Ark of the Redwood than it had in the Nexus. He still found its alien appearance strange, as he did its command of the English language. “What do I need to do?”
“It is simple, Ka-Dun,” Ka said, cocking its head. “Merely think of the Nexus, and envision its heart. Generate a flow of energy from the heart of this Ark to the Nexus, and the conduit will be complete.”
Blair did as asked, though he found the process strange. So much of shaping was about visualization, which made sense from a scientific standpoint. The brain generated electrical impulses based on thought, and shaping tapped into those impulses. He envisioned a river of light flowing from the massive heart of power at the base of his Ark, the river snaking through the ocean until it reached the Nexus. A moment later an enormous shudder passed through the Ark. The lights dimmed for a split second, then returned at full strength.
“It is done,” Ka said, giving a tight nod. It blinked with those too large eyes, pools of unreadable black. “This conduit will be enough to sustain the nexus until other Arks are strong enough to add their own flows.”
“Ka, can you tell me about those pulses earlier? The ones that shot into the sky? They shorted out hundreds of systems. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Blair asked, hoping the creature would both possess the knowledge and be willing to share it. The Mother had warned him to be cautious around Ka, but thus far the intelligence had been nothing but helpful.
“Accessing logs,” Ka said, its eyes going unfocused. They focused again after a moment. “I see the event you reference, Ka-Dun. The pulses were a communication generated by all Arks on the network with sufficient strength to create them. Each fired a trio of pulses designed to alert the Builders to the current climate of this world.”
“Current climate?” came a voice from behind Blair. He scrambled to his feet, abandoning the lotus.
Isis strode toward him, with Liz in tow. The diminutive goddess crossed her arms, glaring at Ka through narrowed eyes. So much distrust there.
Liz followed Isis into the chamber, looking dazed and more than a little ill. Blair caught her gaze, but she gave a slight shake of her head and looked away. Her eyes were red and puffy. What the hell had happened back on the island?
“Yes, Ka-Ken. The climate of this world is warmer than it has been in over three million years. The age you refer to as the Pleistocene has ended, and the Holocene has begun. These conditions are perfect to support the Builders, who prefer a much warmer climate than humanity can tolerate,” Ka explained, cocking its head to the other direction. “The pulse the Ka-Dun referenced was a means of alerting the Builders to this new climate, so they can begin re-colonization of this planet.”
“So this warning was generated automatically?” Blair asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Ka said, giving a very human sigh. “The energy required to fire such a pulse is more than any Ark is capable of mustering at this time, with the exception of this one. This required an external power source to fuel the bursts in those Arks unable to produce them. Only an Ark Lord could have done this.”
“The Well,” Isis growled, taking a step closer to Ka’s translucent form. “You’re saying someone tapped into the Well to generate this pulse.”
“Ju
st so, Ka-Ken,” Ka nodded vigorously. “Someone was able to tap into the vast reservoir of power offered by the Well. This allowed them to send a message, one that will reach the Builders in approximately four years, seven months.”
“And the Builders will return when they hear this message?” Blair asked, moving to stand next to Isis. “How long will it take them to return to earth?”
“Unknown,” Ka said, pursing its green lips. “When they departed this world, the Builders did so as pure energy, broadcast to their new home as light. This process was much like the pulse you just witnessed. During the intervening eons their technology has changed. They now use craft for transport, or at least their progeny do.”
“Progeny?” Blair asked, blinking.
“Yes. The Ka-Ken knows of their existence,” Ka said, nodding at Isis.
“I know a little,” Isis admitted, looking at Blair. “Ka claims they’ve been here for millennia. Ka, what do you know of these progeny?”
“The progeny have been orbiting this world for many centuries, possibly longer,” Ka explained, giving another cock of its head. “I do not know how long, precisely, as they did not transmit any signals until they were ready to begin exploration.”
“Exploration?” Blair asked, raising an eyebrow. He did not like the sound of that. The idea that the pyramids really had been built by aliens pissed him off more than a little.
“Yes, I believe they were sent as scouts by the Builders. Their mission was to measure the appropriate climatological data, and ensure that the planet was ready for their masters’ return,” Ka explained. “This process involved seizing control of the Arks, but my involvement in helping the Ka-Ken create the first mutagen has prevented this. All Arks are now occupied, so the progeny were unable to seize control.”
“Apparently that’s changed,” Liz said, finally joining the conversation. She still looked a little nauseous. “How did they send a message? And what is this Well you spoke of?” Liz addressed the last question to Isis.
“The Well is a source of enormous power,” the Mother replied, folding her arms. “The center of our planet is a molten ball, and the Well connects to the power contained there. It supplements the energy of the sun, but it is located in the heart of the underworld, and therefore is nearly impossible to reach.”
“The underworld?” Blair said, blinking. “You can’t be serious. THE underworld, as in the one referred to by the ancient Egyptians and the Greeks?”
“I am quite serious, I assure you,” Isis said, eyeing him frostily. “The underworld is described in your myths, though the true place bears little resemblance to your fanciful tales. It is located under our world, hence the name underworld. To our knowledge there are only two ways to gain entry, and the progeny of the Builders would have had to use one or the other. The first is beneath The First Ark, in what you know as England. The second is Olympus, the stronghold of a rival group of gods. You’d know them as the Greek pantheon, led by Zeus and his brothers.”
Blair rested a hand against the central obelisk, steadying himself. It made sense, in a way. If the Egyptian pantheon was based on real people, why not the Greeks and Romans? Yet the sudden revelation still made him dizzy. He turned to face Isis. “So you believe these progeny are either in control of the First Ark, or have somehow used Mount Olympus to reach the underworld? That’s how they sent their message?”
“Possibly,” Isis replied, frowning. “We have little to go on, other than the fact that a message was sent. That message would have required access to an Ark, or to the Nexus directly. I do not think such access could have been granted from Olympus, as it is not directly connected to the Ark network. However, it could still have been used as a method of entry. If someone got in that way they could have travelled through the underworld until they reached the Well under The First Ark.”
“This hypothesis is correct,” Ka said. “Someone, or something, would have had to gain entry to the Underworld. Once there, they overrode the Ark Network’s security and forced it to send the message to the Builders. This is alarming, as the progeny of the Builders do not possess this ability. They would have needed the aid of a Homo Sapien to accomplish this. All Arks are genetically locked to your species, a side effect of the creation of the access keys.”
“So how do we use this information?” Liz asked, pragmatic as always. She tucked a lock of copper hair behind her ear.
“We must learn more,” Isis said, clearly irked by the situation. “If we can reach Olympus before Ra, we might be able to speak to Hades, or whoever controls the place now. If someone used that gateway to enter the underworld Hades will know of it.”
“How do we get there?” Blair asked.
“We use the light bridge,” the Mother said, her mouth tightening into a determined expression.
“I thought the light bridge only connected to other Arks,” Blair said, thinking out loud. “If we use the light bridge, wouldn’t that mean we either need to come out in the Ark of the Cradle, or the First Ark?”
“That’s exactly what it means,” Isis agreed. “We will light walk to the Ark of the Cradle.”
“Won’t that mean a fight with Irakesh’s mother?” Liz asked, paling.
“It might, but we have to risk that. I will attempt to parlay with Sekhmet. Once she understands the threat she may be willing to work with us,” Isis explained. “She’ll want to learn the answers to the same questions we ourselves are asking.”
“So you just want to walk into her stronghold? Won’t she have a pantheon of gods?” Blair said. “I know you’re strong, but wouldn’t she be able to overwhelm us?”
“Her servants are powerful, but none so old or powerful as me,” the Mother said. The Mother extended a hand and gold flowed up her arm. It coalesced into a golden staff with a winged scarab at the tip. The fist-sized sapphire in the thorax caught the light from the rejuvenation chamber on the far side of the room. “She has no idea I possess a Primary Access Key. This will even the odds enough that she’ll deal in good faith.”
“You’re certain she doesn’t know you have it?” Blair asked, raising a dubious eyebrow.
“Absolutely. There are only two, as I said. One is possessed by Osiris in the First Ark. The other was stolen from her by Sobek, who fled to the continent you call Australia. That means I have one, and she does not. With this I can wrest control of her Ark from her, and she’ll know that. I’m hoping she’ll be willing to parlay rather than risk battle,” the Mother reasoned.
Blair had a hard time finding fault with her logic, but he was still nervous. Invading the Ark of the Cradle sounded like suicide to him.
Chapter 19- I know Kung Fu
Trevor’s quarters were all golden metal and black stone, just like the ones back in Blair’s Ark. That much was similar, but there were definite differences.
A sea of hieroglyphs covered nearly every surface, and wooden furniture dotted the room. The nightstand next to the strange foam bed might have been mahogany, though he didn’t know a lot about wood. The statue on top of it was clearly Anubis, though. That probably meant something significant, but he had no idea what.
Trevor flopped down on the bed, allowing the contours to form to his body. He didn’t feel exhaustion in the same way he had when he’d been alive, but sleep was still welcome. It allowed him respite from his new existence, allowed him to lose himself in dreams of being alive.
His younger self would likely have been thrilled by the turn of events. After all, he was blessed with all sorts of crazy superpowers. But this was different than some Saturday night roleplaying game. He didn’t get to wake up on Sunday and return to normal life. He was dead. Immortal, sure. But still dead.
“Get up,” a heavy voice rumbled from the doorway.
Trevor blurred from the bed, dropping into a combat crouch. He reached instinctively for the pistol usually belted at his side. When he realized it was gone, he moved for the combat knife normally tucked into his boot. That was gone too, of course.
&
nbsp; “What do you want, Anubis?” he asked, eyes narrowing. He knew the jackal could kick his ass, but if the thing wanted a fight he’d at least go down swinging.
The jackal didn’t answer, instead advancing into the room. He cradled that strange double-fan-bladed axe loosely in one hand, while the other rested on the hilt of a sword belted at his side.
This sword was more like a traditional scimitar, narrow at the hilt and wider as it approached the tip. It had a slight curve to it, and the weapon was probably heavier than a na-kopesh.
Anubis paused, unbuckling the leather belt that held the scabbarded sword. He tossed the weapon at Trevor with enough force to knock down a mortal. Trevor caught the weapon awkwardly, blurring slightly to do it.
“What’s this?” he asked, holding the scabbard at the midway point.
“Suspicious, are you?” Anubis asked, taking several heavy steps closer until he loomed over Trevor. “Perhaps there is something approaching sense in that head of yours, though I still remain doubtful on that count. That, young pup, is a sword. You have seen a sword before, have you not?”
“Of course I’ve seen a sword,” Trevor snapped, glaring up at Anubis. “Why the hell are you giving it to me?”
“Because you are useless in a fight,” Anubis rumbled, giving a very toothy smile. “Ra has asked me to remedy that. I have been given the monumental task of honing you into a soldier, though doing so may take more centuries than I have remaining to me.”
Trevor’s first instinct was to attack, to show Anubis he was wrong. Unfortunately, indulging that instinct would only prove the jackal right. He’d lose. Again.
“All right,” Trevor said, buckling the scabbard around his waist. “Teach me, then.”
“I have already begun, you mewling, pathetic wretch,” Anubis roared, looming closer with bared fangs. He waited for a long moment as Trevor simply stared up at him, waiting. “Good, you can contain your anger. Perhaps there is a tiny sliver of a chance I can make something from you. Follow me.”