The Forever Gate Compendium Edition

by Isaac Hooke

  "We will," Tanner said. "But this uprising is major. The Great One needs to know."

  The guard's lips parted in a rictus, and it caressed one of its long canines with its tongue. "The krubs are such an annoyance. It will be good when this world is cleansed of them." The Direwalker stepped aside. "Delivery your message then. But be quick about it."

  Tanner stepped between the guard and the outgoing column of Direwalkers, and passed into the courtyard. He motioned Cap and the rest of the group to follow.

  The gate Direwalker blocked the way with its body. "Just you, unit leader. The others wait."

  Tanner shook his head. "I don't run my squad like the other unit leaders. My units stick with me at all times. It's a rule I never break."

  The Direwalker frowned. "You are short in stature, and your vocal patterning is odd. Are you a new type of unit?"

  Tanner crossed his arms. "Maybe I am." When the Direwalker didn't respond, he added, "Look, I won't leave my units stranded outside. If you make me go alone, you'll hear back from the Great One. He'll want to see my units too, trust me. There are individual reports that need to be uploaded directly." Tanner had been present during the interrogation of the captured squadron. That was roughly how the unit leader talked once the children had loosened its avatar up.

  The Direwalker pressed its lips together. "There's something not right. You have all the traits, and all the proper flags are set, yet you exhibit decidedly krub-like behavior. Heightened pulse rate and perspiration. Odd vocal patterning. And your face—"

  "Like you said, I'm a new type of unit. We all are. What you see here is the endgame. We're the gols that are going to run this world when the krubs are gone. You'd be wise to treat us well."

  The guard didn't move. Other Direwalkers were starting to glare as they passed, and some of them slowed to listen. Tanner could hear the snarls and hisses behind him.

  Tanner rested a hand on his sword hilt. "The Great One will not be pleased when—"

  The guard glanced at the gathering crowd of Direwalkers and, apparently not wanting any trouble, waved Tanner's companions inside with a sour expression. "Advance advance." It glanced at the other Direwalkers. "Disperse." When none of them moved, the guard drew its sword. "Disperse!" The Direwalkers reluctantly departed through the gate.

  The guard positioned itself in the middle of the gate, spreading its arms to physically separate the column of Direwalkers from Tanner's company. Tanner waited as one-by-one his companions passed the gate. So far, the worst his men had to endure were a few insults hurled their way. But Tanner held his breath when Briar's turn came. Briar had allowed the children to slim his avatar down this time, but he still wasn't as lean as the others and Tanner wasn't sure he'd pass muster. Thankfully the guard barely spared him a glance. The other Direwalkers were more open with their contempt though, and the insults increased. But Briar made it through, and the only wounds he'd obtained were to his pride.

  When everyone was inside, Tanner hurried onward.

  "That was harder than I thought it would be," Cap said.

  Tanner nodded. "Nothing's ever easy."

  By crossing the gates, Tanner and the others passed beneath the interference shield that One had raised around this place. Tanner felt no different, yet he knew that he and his men were on their own now. Despite that they all wore hidden trackers, the children couldn't pull them out, move them, or inject items inside to help them.

  Still, he'd devised a scheme to communicate with the Outside from here. He carried a pair of two-way diaries on his person. The first of those diaries was linked to another kept by the Control Room operators. Any message he wrote in the diary appeared instantly in the twin. It was his way of passing messages to the children, with the Control Room operators acting as the intermediaries. The second diary he carried was linked to the staging area in the house across the street.

  "Why do they call Jeremy the Great One anyway?" Cap said.

  Tanner shrugged. "Not sure." He felt a tinge of guilt. He really should've told Cap and the others the truth about what they faced, but all they really needed to know was that Jeremy had changed and was invulnerable, and that this would likely prove to be a suicide mission for most of them.

  He led the twenty men onto the pine-flanked path toward the mansion. The first time he'd come here with Ari there had been deer wandering beyond those trees.

  Today only lifeless snowdrifts filled the grounds.

  He glanced up at the pines, wondering if any Direwalkers waited in ambush like before, but he saw no one. He supposed hidden ambushers were unnecessary when endless ranks of the things emerged from the mansion.

  The Direwalkers marched in the opposite direction on the path beside him. With the bottleneck of the gates some distance away, the Direwalkers weren't so closely packed, and a few strides separated each gol from the next, allowing Tanner ample opportunity to study them. They were units mass produced from a common codebase, their bodies and features slightly randomized, though they all possessed a square face, angular nose, and of course the needle-length canines. Most of the Direwalkers were well-built, and over six feet tall. Some wore swords at their waists.

  Tanner received more than a few contemptuous snarls for his attention, and he quickly diverted his eyes. He still hadn't fully figured out why the other Direwalkers treated him and the others so coldly. The disrespect his men received he might be able to understand. They were ordinary units after all. But he was unit leader, which should have afforded him at least some respect. He supposed the fact that he and the others weren't six feet tall might have something to do with it. He wished he'd had the children improve his physical traits.

  Tanner passed the perfectly rebuilt fountain on the terrace in front of the mansion, and he stepped beneath the columns of the restored portico. Even up-close, there was no evidence of the previous bomb damage.

  There was a bit of a bottleneck at the main doors, and Tanner hesitated before finally giving the order to shove through the crowd of outgoing Direwalkers. As expected, his group was met with snarls and hisses, and for a moment Tanner worried the fighting would start right then, but luckily none of the exchanges escalated into physical confrontation.

  Once everyone was inside, Tanner crossed to an out-of-the-way section of the foyer, then turned to Al and clasped his hand. "Good luck."

  Al nodded. "You too."

  Al departed down a side corridor with ten men, Briar among them. Al's men were to provide a distraction by planting and detonating thirty pipe bombs in the backyard. Briar went with them because he was the only one who knew the layout of the mansion besides Tanner.

  Tanner was about to continue in the other direction when something caught his eye. Candelabras in the foyer illuminated tapestries and paintings of underwater scenes, and his attention was grabbed by one tapestry in particular—an octopus lurking at the heart of a dark cove.

  He remembered seeing that tapestry the first time he had come here with Ari.

  The two of them were captured shortly thereafter.

  "Something wrong?" Cap said quietly.

  This was Tanner's plan. Most of these men would probably die. He'd told them that.

  They'd come anyway.

  They trusted him to get them out of here alive. But he knew that trust was misplaced.

  "Nothing," Tanner said. "Nothing's wrong."

  He led the men into the corridor on the opposite side of the foyer. His plan was to circle the reception hall and make his way to the kitchens, where he would take the servants' stairs to the second floor and approach Jeremy's bedchamber from what he hoped was the least-guarded route.

  The kitchens weren't far now. As expected, the house was empty on this side. Everything was proceeding well.

  Ahead, on the right, a short corridor led away to the reception hall. It was Tanner's bad luck that a Direwalker just so happened to be patrolling that corridor as Tanner and his companions walked by.

  The Direwalker strode to intercept him strai
ghtaway.

  "State your business," the Direwalker said. It fingered the sword at its belt menacingly. "Why are you not pillaging with the others?"

  "Squadron 144, bringing tidings for the Great One," Tanner said.

  The Direwalker flashed its long teeth in a feral sneer. "Who gave you the authorization, unit?"

  "We were authorized by the gate guard."

  The Direwalker's eyes tightened. "And why are you taking the back way to the Great One?"

  Tanner considered this. "We are doing a cautionary sweep of the mansion. For hostiles."

  The Direwalker growled, a deep, throaty sound. "There are no hostiles. You will tell me these tidings of yours and I will relay them to the Great One myself if I deem them worthy of his notice. Meanwhile you will return to the city streets and continue your assigned orders."

  Tanner looked down the short corridor past the Direwalker, to the reception hall beyond. From here he could see a portion of the main stairs, which had two runs separated by a short platform, the upper runs branching off to two different areas of the second floor. Direwalkers came down the stairs in a steady stream, separated by three or four paces each.

  Jeremy's bedchamber was up those stairs.

  So close.

  "These tidings are to be delivered personally," Tanner said. "Perhaps you could escort us?"

  The Direwalker raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Escort you?"

  Tanner had an odd feeling about this Direwalker, and he got the impression he had to be very careful around the thing. He raised a hand. "It's all right. We'll return to the streets as you ask."

  Tanner started to retreat when he noticed the symbol on the Direwalker's chest was slightly different from that of any other Direwalker he'd seen. There was a small dagger positioned just above the tooth. Tanner wasn't sure what it meant, but he felt sure this Direwalker was a member of some high ranking unit.

  And Tanner had just insulted it.

  The Direwalker snarled, and then spoke in that guttural tongue of clicks and hisses. When Tanner didn't respond, the Direwalker remained still for long seconds. Finally it said, "I don't know how you did it, but you're not one of us, krub."

  The Direwalker drew its sword.

  ***

  Jacob, in the staging area beneath the house across the street from Jeremy's estate, wasn't surprised when Helen brought the two-way diary to his side early.

  The book was open, and three words were inscribed on the page.

  Defend the gates.

  Jacob regarded the three hundred uncollared men crowding the marble corridor behind him, and he filled himself with vitra.

  "It's time," he said.

  Almost as one, the three hundred men unsheathed their fire swords.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Briar felt his gut clench as his turn to cross the hall came.

  His gut did that a lot lately.

  He was uncollared now. He had vitra in his body, vitra in the rings he wore at his fingers, and vitra in the sword at his belt. Vitra, the power over life and death. He should have courage. He really should.

  Yet it was all an act, a pretense, this newfound bravery of his. His sister Cora was dead, and he felt sure she was watching him now at this very moment, judging him. She was the reason he had agreed to come along on this suicide mission in the first place. It was bad enough that he couldn't visit the whorehouses anymore, let alone touch himself, knowing her ghost was watching—though there weren't any whorehouses open anyway now that the world was ending, he supposed—but to be forced to come here out of guilt when he could be under a warm blanket somewhere, hiding through the end of the world? It was just preposterous.

  Damn you for dying, Cora!

  He wanted to prove to her ghost that he was the man she thought he was.

  He supposed he wanted to prove it to himself.

  The pipe bombs in the satchel slung over his shoulder seemed to be growing heavier by the moment. Why Al thought he would make a good packmule was beyond Briar. Al should be the mule! He certainly had the face for one. Briar already had enough weight to lug around as it was. He patted his starving belly with a sigh. He was leaner, thanks to the magic of Tanner's unseen "children," but it seemed an illusion because Briar felt fatter than ever.

  Briar could hear the fighting from the first floor, a din of clashing swords and roaring flame and crackling lightning and splattering blood. And screams. Sickening, gurgling screams. That was the worst part of it.

  Tanner had run into some trouble apparently.

  When Al had first heard the sounds of battle, he'd immediately ordered his secondary group to the kitchens instead of the backyard. Briar had protested, wanting to stick to the plan. It was a good plan after all, a plan that would have seen them away from most of the action, planting bombs in the backyard while Tanner went upstairs and bitched the mayor. Tally-ho and all that.

  But Al had taken Tanner's route for himself. After the kitchens, Al hurried his men up the servant stairs and then, following Briar's reluctant guidance, he led the men the back way toward Jeremy's bedchamber. The group slunk through oddly empty corridors—Tanner's attack was proving to be an excellent diversion, admittedly—and eventually stopped beside the hallway they sought.

  Al peeked round the bend and then instructed the men to cross one-by-one to an alcove he'd spotted midway the hall. Al went first, and the men followed one at a time. Briar wasn't sure why they didn't just cross all at once, but he supposed there was a Direwalker guardsman or some such out there.

  Now that his turn had come, Briar peered past the corner for himself. He saw triple-pronged candelabras, paintings of sea creatures, a floor covered in a gold-rimmed red carpet, and the alcove where Al's men crowded between the sculptures on pedestals. Jeremy's bedchamber lurked at the hallway's far end, set in the same wall as the alcove.

  He understood now why the group had crossed one by one, because Direwalkers emerged from the bedchamber every few seconds and vanished an instant later, taking the corridor directly opposite, which afforded the quickest route to the main stairs and the battle in the reception hall. None of the Direwalkers even bothered to glance down the hall.

  Al and the others beckoned to Briar from the alcove, urging him on.

  He was the last one left on this side. It was just a simple crossing. All he had to do was move his feet around the bend and cover five paces or so, timing it so that he avoided being seen by the Direwalkers coming out of Jeremy's room.

  Just five paces.

  Yet his legs didn't listen.

  "Come on," Al mouthed from the alcove.

  Briar watched another Direwalker emerge from the bedchamber and vanish. Three seconds passed. The distant din of fighting rose and fell. Another Direwalker marched across. Three more seconds. Another Direwalker...

  "May the whoremongers protect me." The instant the Direwalker disappeared, Briar rounded the corner and huffed and puffed his way across the hallway. He literally dove into the alcove, and nearly knocked over one of the four busts on display. Luckily one of Al's men was paying attention and hugged the sculpture before it toppled. Briar would have thanked the man, but he struggled to keep his breathing in check as it was—not the easiest thing to do given the exertion of racing across a hall with a satchel full of bombs.

  Al held out a hand, calling for quiet or motionlessness or whatever he thought the gesture called for. Briar gladly obeyed.

  Al peered beyond the alcove's edge.

  The fighting seemed even louder from this alcove, and Briar wondered if Tanner was already battling his way up the main stairs.

  Al ducked back inside and retrieved the collar from underneath his coat. He withdrew his fire sword. "Are you ready to bitch us a mayor, men?"

  "Wait!" Briar said in a hushed voice. "That's not the plan! We're supposed to provide a distraction! Blow up the back of the mansion! Not rush Jeremy's bedchamber!"

  "Plans need to be flexible," Al said. "Tanner's the distraction now in case you hadn't n
oticed, and I ain't waiting around while he dies for nothing. We finish this here and now. We do Tanner right. We do our duty."

  "But that's not the plan," Briar could only repeat weakly.

  "One of us has to succeed," Al said. "That was always the plan."

  "You're mad," Briar said. "You've gone mad, ye have."

  "Mad?" Al's eyes glinted with a strange light. "I'm the sanest I've been in a long time. Are you with me, soldiers of the Resistance?"

  Al gazed from man to man, and Briar watched them nod in turn. Swords were unsheathed. Collars removed from coats.

  "Let's bitch us a mayor then!" Al said.

  Al and the others abandoned the alcove and rushed the bedchamber.

  Briar remained behind. He sank against the wall.

  I can't do it. I can't do it.

  Here he was, a grown man, and all he felt like doing was crying.

  So now you know, sister.

  I'm all bluster and huff, little more.

  A rich, pampered coward.

  A spineless wretch.

  Screams of horror came from the bedchamber.

  Briar slid to the floor and wept.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Ari followed Hoodwink through the metal halls in a daze.

  She had almost crossed over entirely to the other side of existence. She remembered everything of her time in the hereafter vividly. But she hadn't told Hoodwink any of it. She couldn't, not yet. The magnificent Gate. The thin strand tethering her to the world. The beings of light. It had all been so unlike anything she'd ever witnessed before. She wasn't quite sure she could believe it all herself.

  But then she'd been yanked back to the world of flesh and blood, where she'd awakened naked on a flyer of some kind. Hoodwink had been there. He'd undocked the flyer from the ship in orbit over Ganymede, the same ship responsible for the surface bombardment, she thought.

  The flyer descended rapidly, and hit the moon's surface pretty hard. Some kind of dampeners prevented Hoodwink and her from turning into a pulp on impact. She donned a spare spacesuit—her legs were no longer weak and toothpick-thin, but toned, and she could walk on her own. Together they bounded across the icy surface of the moon to the crashed ship. Hoodwink destroyed two iron golems with some sort of hand-crossbow that shot energy bolts, and she entered the ship with him through an airlock.