by Jack Conner
“No,” Avery said. “That’s all.”
Onxcor nodded. Xagriv opened the door for them—he had as was his custom been blending in with the shadows at the back of the room—and they filed out, one by one. Avery was almost surprised not to be struck over the side of the head or simply shot as he emerged. Xagriv guided them back downstairs and left them in a main hall with general directions as to how to get back to their rooms. Avery expected ambush around every corner as they made their way through the corridors.
“Why did you lie to him?” Sheridan said. She spoke in low-pitched Octunggen.
“I don’t even know what carried out the murders,” Avery whispered back. “Let alone be able to describe it to Onxcor.”
“But if he catches us in the lie ...” Risiglon said.
“We’ve already lied to him. We don’t really represent the Temple, and we have no funds to back up whatever bid we give.”
“If things get that far,” Sheridan said. “Things could blow up sooner than that. I don’t think they will, though. But with you planting the thought in his head to order the other bidders’ rooms searched, things could heat up sooner.”
“Do you think he will?”
“I think you’re playing a dangerous game, Doctor. I didn’t authorize that.”
No, you didn’t. I bet that drives you crazy. Part of Avery enjoyed that. “I’m sorry,” he said, not sorry at all. “It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not. I am in charge of this operation, Doctor, not you.”
He nodded, at the same time thinking, We’ll see. He’d decided that the last thing he wanted was to become her stooge.
They reached a stairwell and started down.
“How could one of the other bidders have snuck in a blurwhip?” Risiglon said.
“They didn’t,” Sheridan snapped. “That was a ploy of the good doctor. Anyway, if Onxcor does begin to doubt the intentions of the bidders, we’ll get to find out what they’re really about. The Ysstral agents ... ”
“I doubt they did this,” Avery said. “Why would they?”
“The Ysstrals have done stranger things, and they are quite powerful enough to want to take on Octung.”
“What does Octung have to do with this? Or the Ysstral Empire?”
Coming out of the stairwell, they pushed down a hall, and Sheridan lowered her voice to say, “The Ysstrals have had agents in our midst for many years, and we’ve had a few in theirs. Not many, though. They get found out with depressing regularity. The Ysstrals are frightening people, as you should know, having lived surrounded by their architecture all your life, as have I. Whatever they’re up to is cause for concern, whether they committed the murders or not. They would not idly have agents up here to stir up chaos, I don’t think, or to weaken Octung’s hold on the world. Not unless they had some other purpose.”
Avery raised his eyebrows. “Still, I don’t see them doing this.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. From what I know of them, they would be far more likely to have delivered a psychic assault, not a ... tentacle assault.”
“Unless they were trying to cover up,” Risiglon said. “By killing the men in such a strange fashion they could be providing a scapegoat of some sort.”
“An awfully fantastic scapegoat,” Avery said. “One none of us can even come up with. No, I think the simplest solution is the most logical. Someone here, in this block-dome, is not human. I don’t know what that individual or individuals is, but they’re not like you and I.”
“They’re not Collossum, either,” Sheridan said. “They didn’t eat the bodies.”
“No.”
Risiglon looked from one to the other. “Which leaves?”
“I’ll be damned if I know,” Avery said.
They reached a fork and took the right-hand avenue.
“Whatever did it seems to be able to turn itself invisible,” Sheridan said, “or nearly enough. It passed down a crowded hall covered in blood even after the sounds that took place in that room had drawn attention.”
“Not to mention appearing inhuman,” Avery said.
“Yes. The tentacles. Covered in blood and sprouting tentacles, the assassin or assassins didn’t even raise an eyebrow.”
“Are you sure there was no whip?” Risiglon said.
“No whip could have been applied with such force and dexterity,” Avery said. “Still, you have a point. The wounds made on those people reek of ammonia, just as the blurwhips do. Various sea creatures smell like that, but mainly that smell is confined to jellyfish. And something wounded Uthua during the initial attack. Something other-dimensional. It’s the only explanation for his current weakness.”
Sheridan nodded. “So something like the jellyfish tentacles the blurwhips are derived from both injured him during the attack and killed those men and women, not to mention my two soldiers?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Avery said. “Some creature or group of creatures that have the ability to wound or even kill a Collossum did all of it.”
Risiglon’s step faltered. “And don’t forget, they’re invisible.”
“Maybe I should have stayed aboard the Valanca,” Avery muttered.
A group of warriors bustled down the hall, and the three fell silent until they had passed, then picked up in even lower tones than before.
“It makes sense, I guess,” Sheridan said. “If some sort of octopod is involved—well, many of them can change colors or turn functionally invisible.”
Risiglon chuckled nervously. He sobered and glanced around, probing the edges of the hall, as if expecting inhuman shapes to suddenly materialize and start ripping them to pieces with ammonia-reeking tentacles. Avery realized, to his horror, that Risiglon was absolutely correct to be so afraid. Whatever accomplished the murders could well be after them next, for all they knew, and if it could turn itself invisible ...
“It must be the mystery party,” he said. “It can’t be the rebels or the rival clan, and I don’t see the Ysstrals consorting with such a monstrosity. That leaves the mysterious unnamed group of individuals competing for ownership of Uthua.”
“You’re assuming the murders were done by one of the bidders,” Sheridan said.
“Yes.”
They reached their rooms. Reaching unspoken consensus, they all entered the room Avery and Sheridan shared. All moved to the bar.
“Do you think they’re listening?” Risiglon asked quietly. “Lord Onxcor’s people?”
“They’re not that advanced,” Sheridan said. “Anyway, if the mystery party did kill those men, they wanted something from them first. Some piece of information.”
“Lord Onxcor’s hiding something from us,” Risiglon said, his voice unnaturally high and brittle and his eyes bright. Avery realized he was almost hysterical. “You both heard how he refused to answer the doctor’s questions.”
“Yes,” Avery said. “But what could he be hiding?”
“The Codex,” Sheridan said. Her voice snapped with conviction. “He’s hiding the fucking Codex.”
Avery ran a hand through what was left of his hair. “What could he want with it?”
“I don’t know. He probably doesn’t know. But he acquired it when he took Uthua, who must have been running from the invisible beings. He’d been attacked and was trying to get the Codex clear when he ran right smack into Onxcor’s men, possibly a rape squad. That’s how I see it, anyway.”
“Yes, that makes sense, based on what we know.”
“So now Onxcor is trying to sell Uthua, who he knows is valuable,” she continued, “and is trying to figure out what the hell the Codex is, whether it’s something he can use or sell. That’s why Uthua has all those wounds on him. I’d thought them all inflicted during the attack, or the ‘sport’ Onxcor referred to, but I think now our friendly neighborhood warlord was trying to get him to talk.”
“I doubt he succeeded,” Avery said, picturing an enraged, vast, amoebic Uthua bursting out of the Atomic Sea, all his m
ight about him, tentacles and pseudopods lashing the air.
“But Onxcor’s still working on it,” Sheridan said. “Finding out what the Codex is. And he has it here. Somewhere.”
“Those men knew where,” Risiglon said suddenly. “The dead ones. They were there when Uthua was taken. Lady Gaxia said so. Enjoying the attention of those girls was their reward. Somehow whoever killed them knew they knew, and tortured them for the information.”
“The question,” Avery said, “is whether they got it.”
“They could be after the Codex even now,” Sheridan said. “Shit! And we have nowhere to even start looking.”
Quietly, Avery said, “Actually, we do.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “The mystery party. Follow them to the Codex. But if they have some way to summon this monstrosity of theirs ...”
“It’s a risk.”
“And us without our weapons.”
“You guys are mad!” Risiglon said. “You can’t be serious—sneaking around this place! It’s an armed fort. Besides, our focus should be on Uthua. The Codex can wait. One of our gods has been waylaid by heathen forces and must be given deliverance.” He squeezed something around his neck, and for the first time Avery saw that the professor wore a jade trident; he was a believer.
“Uthua can wait,” Avery said. “In fact, I don’t mind if he waits a great deal.”
“We may need him before this is through,” Sheridan said. “Remember, I don’t have my radio. I can’t call in for Segrul to launch the attack. Uthua is our only recourse to overwhelming force.”
“Hardly overwhelming,” Avery said. “He can’t even lift his head.”
“Just the same.”
“Fine.” Avery tasted something sour in the back of his throat. “I suppose you’re right.”
Risiglon looked at him eagerly. “How can we give the Great One sustenance?”
“All he needs is enough infected blood,” Avery said.
“He can have all of mine.”
“It would have to be all. More than you can give, anyway, and still walk afterward.”
“Even if you could get infected blood somewhere, Uthua is surrounded by guards,” Sheridan reminded Avery.
“I don’t know about them,” Avery said. “But the blood is something I can supply. In fact, I’ve already arranged it.”
She paused, considering, then shook her head. “Our first priority is the Codex. I’m afraid even now this mystery group of assassins, or whatever they are, are already after it. We find them, we find it, we get out of here. Uthua can go hang.”
Avery liked that idea just fine.
* * *
Leaving the room, they pressed down a new length of the frigid glowing halls of the Onix fortress-hive. The guests passing through the corridors now were even rougher-looking than the ones from earlier, and Avery guessed that most up and about at this hour were doing something they didn’t want to be common knowledge. He and Sheridan several times stopped to ask people where the other bidding parties were staying—Sheridan claimed they needed to set some guide rules for the bidding—but the denizens of the block-dome brushed them off and went about their business.
It was only when the three came upon some of Lord Onxcor’s soldiers that they made progress. The soldiers regarded them with suspicion but a certain amusement; this whole situation, their chief auctioning off a god, seemed to entertain them greatly, and some late-night meeting between bidders made them smile and nudge each other with their elbows more than it made them frown with suspicion. Still, the first group of soldiers the three came across didn’t know where the mystery party was staying, nor did the second. By the time they came across the third group, something had changed. The soldiers conferred tensely and looked all about with quick eyes, their hands gripping their weapons with purpose and the sort of comfort born out of long hours of street-to-street and tunnel-to-tunnel warfare.
“What is it?” Sheridan asked the leader. “Is something wrong?”
Now suspicion did touch his eyes.
“Who are you again?” the man said.
Visibly suppressing her impatience, Sheridan explained once more.
When he understood that she represented the Collossum Temple, he said, “Wait here.” He spoke rapidly into a radio handset, but it hissed only static—Avery knew the Atomic properties of the ice often confused radios—and sent off a runner instead.
“What’s this about?” Sheridan said.
Bluntly, the man said, “I need to know what to do with you.”
Concern flashed across her face, but Avery doubted anyone but him saw it.
“Why?” she said. “What’s happened?”
The man didn’t answer. Avery was impressed. Most people when confronted by Sheridan in such a mood would have given her the information she demanded without hesitation. On the other hand, perhaps he was just foolish. In either case, the runner quickly returned and whispered in the sergeant’s ear. The fellow nodded and told Sheridan, “Come with me.”
He ushered the three up an icy set of stairs and around several bends before finally arriving at a suite of rooms buzzing with activity. Avery saw waving guns and tense-looking troops. The sergeant led them into the turquoise-glowing suite, where Lord Onxcor himself stood studying the carnage: more blood and torn bodies. The dead were all men this time, and all clothed and armed. They were in just as many pieces, however, as those found in the brothel.
Onxcor dismissed the sergeant, then surveyed Sheridan’s party, his gaze settling on Avery.
“I did as you suggested, Doctor, immediately. I ordered the bidding parties’ rooms searched. Yours would have been next. But these ... unknown guests ... I ordered their rooms inspected first.” He let out a breath, a turquoise-shaded cloud. “This is what became of the soldiers I sent to do it.”
“I’m sorry,” Avery said. Quickly, and without being asked, he examined the bodies. “Killed like the others. Torn apart by cords or some whip-like object. And with the same trace of ammonia.”
“But how could the bidders have brought any weapons inside?” Risiglon said.
Lord Onxcor grimaced. “I hate to think any of my men were complicit in helping these strangers, but I am not naïve enough to think it impossible. One of them could have helped them evade the search.” He shrugged. “What worries me more is where they are now.”
“The mystery bidders have vanished?” Avery said.
Lord Onxcor fixed him with a firm gaze. “These deaths are on your head, Doctor. Normally I would have some sport with you and fit you with an icicle in the main room, but you did me a favor by flushing these bastards out. I ... suppose that was your intention all along.” His face hardened, and Avery felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. “They were eels at my breast, and I’m glad to have them exposed and on the run. They could be anywhere, though. My men’re combing the halls even now, but who knows if they’ll find these bastards. Whoever they are, they’re very good at not being seen when they don’t want to.”
Avery sucked in a breath, then let it out. What he was about to do was taking a big risk. “Lord Onxcor, I don’t think these strangers were really even bidders.”
“They bought their seat at the table, same as you.”
“Yes, but I think that’s just because they wanted something you have ... something besides the god.” He searched the warlord’s face. “I think you know what I’m talking about.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sheridan’s lips twitch, and her eyes narrowed at Avery, just slightly, then focused with great intensity on Lord Onxcor. Very subtly, her body tensed, her legs sliding further apart, coiling herself for action.
Lord Onxcor didn’t seem to notice. His attention was fixed on Avery, perhaps deciding whether or not to answer.
“Very well,” he said at last. He gaze moved over the butchered bodies, all bathed in the ebbing and swelling turquoise glow. “We did find something when we captured the god. He’d been attacked, and some of my men
were in the area about my business. They went toward the sounds of fighting and came across the god fleeing, wounded, unable to call upon his godhood. He had an object with him. My men took him, and it, into custody and brought them to me immediately.”
“Perhaps whatever attacked him tracked them to this place,” Avery said. “Perhaps, under a guise, they bought their way in here.”
“If so, they didn’t get it. The object’s still under lock and key. The men who were killed earlier may have known of its existence, but they didn’t even know where I’ve put it or how to get access to it.”
Avery considered. “Did they know who does?”
Lord Onxcor blinked but didn’t answer.
“I would consider having whoever knows about it put under safeguard, and I would consider moving the object to a different location,” Avery said, hardly daring to believe the words coming out of his mouth.
Lord Onxcor smiled, just faintly. “That would give you and yours an excellent opportunity of finding it, wouldn’t it—during the transfer?” When Avery didn’t reply, Onxcor added, “You seem most interested in this object.”
“We’re from the Temple,” Sheridan reminded him. She seemed only a fraction less tense now, and Avery knew he would hear from her later. “We know what the Great One was about and what the object in his possession means. It can’t mean anything to you. Only money. We’ll increase our bid greatly if the object’s included with the ransom of Lord Uthua.”
Onxcor raised his eyebrows. “I am the only lord here, girl.”
A snarl passed across Sheridan’s face, so quickly Avery barely saw it, but Onxcor didn’t miss it. He smiled again, wider this time.
“Yes, girl, I am in command here, and you forget yourself. I am not on your side. I loathe the Temple and all you people stand for. I’d side with the rebels save that I’ve been enemies with them for too long. When they were in power they were always trying to step on my throat, and now that they’re down I’ll do everything I can to see that theirs is slit. But that doesn’t include helping you fucking people, and if this object’s really that valuable ... powerful ...”