by Rob May
He was dressed in skin-tight fibrous armour like his soldiers, and his features were hidden behind a beaked mask. The whole get-up was polished black, and put Jason in mind of a villaxx. But the gleaming amber eyes behind the mask hinted at a cruel intelligence that made the Arch Predicant a lot more terrifying than the beasts of the jungle.
He sat almost motionless on his throne. In his lap were two items: a sword and a small bundle wrapped in white cloth.
Jason starting running scenarios through his head. The Arch Predicant was alone and unarmed. Okay, so he had a sword, but Jason guessed that it was Catron’s Claw—the bionoids—and that there was no way that Brandon would allow that to be raised in anger. The Arch Predicant had a pretty funky suit of armour, but Jason had his bionic arm … so he reckoned the chances of a win if he attacked right now were …
He struggled with his thoughts. Maths was never his strong point …
Well, he was either going to win or he was going to lose …
So it was about fifty-fifty! He prepared himself for an attack. It was probably the only chance he was going to get.
But then the bundle of cloth made a gurgling noise.
Doo stepped forward. ‘Grok!’ she exclaimed.
Grok? Jason was rooted to the spot in confusion. The little bundle shifted, and a grey-green face peeped out. It was Doo’s brother. The king of the balaks was a baby.
‘Don’t you worry,’ the Arch Predicant said to Doo. ‘He’s safe with me. He’s a little sleepy now. We were playing earlier. Grok has a favourite toy: a stuffed catron he calls Mumpty.’
The Arch Predicant spoke in hollow emotionless tones. The yellow eyes stared out of the mask without expression. It was the creepiest thing Jason had seen since … No, it was the creepiest thing he had ever seen.
He took a deep breath. ‘If you hurt the baby, I’ll kill you. I swear it. Brandon may have surrendered, but I never will. I will die fighting.’
Doo moved a touch closer to Jason. ‘What he said,’ she added.
The Arch Predicant gave a sinister chuckle. ‘Nobody is going to die. I have no wish to hurt innocent infants.’ He passed a slow gaze across the three of them. ‘Or indeed children.’
Jason prickled at the implication that he wasn’t a threat. He clenched his bionic fist.
‘Listen to him,’ Brandon said to Jason and Doo. ‘I surrendered so that nobody else would get hurt. Ever!’
Jason didn’t care for Brandon’s new allegiances. And what was wrong with somebody getting hurt? Sometimes, somebody had to get hurt to make things right.
‘So what do you want from us?’ he asked the Arch Predicant. ‘You’re just going to let us all go? Except for Brandon here, who’s going to stay and be your loyal pet?’
Doo was already approaching the throne. ‘Come on, Grok. It’s time to go home.’
But the Arch Predicant held up a hand. ‘Grok is staying with me. All of you are staying in Perazim.’
‘No,’ Brandon began. ‘Leave them out of this. The deal is simple. I stay here and use the bionoids for the good of the city, and you end hostilities with the balaks.’
‘Right,’ Jason agreed. ‘We’re not here to do any negotiating or diplo … diplomating. We’re not good at that!’
‘Let me take Grok back to his people,’ Doo said. ‘Once they have their king back, they will accept that the war is over, and we can all live in peace.’
The Arch Predicant sat in silence, gently stroking Grok’s head. Jason found himself holding his breath. They were just seconds away from a resolution to all of this. Brandon would stay here, but would hopefully enjoy a comfortable life as a VIP prisoner. Jason would go back to the jungle to live with Doo and Grok and Kat. Maybe they could just forget about all that wedding business and take things slowly for a few years …
There was a splat as blood dripped from Jason’s nose and hit the temple stones. It brought to mind an image of a gory sacrifice under a stormy sky. Jason had a horrible premonition that things weren’t going to go easy. This weird temple wasn’t the kind of place where things went easy.
The Arch Predicant stood up. He was tall—over two metres—and as he walked around the temple, cradling Grok in one arm and swinging his sword in the other, Jason recognised the supple, confident movements of a warrior.
‘I could not let you all go even if I wanted to,’ the Arch Predicant said. ‘When we captured Grok and brought him here to the city, we had no idea that we were fulfilling a destiny laid out for the child by Zaal himself. But having spent that past weeks personally caring for the boy, his importance to both the future of the zelfs and balaks has become clear.’
Jason closed his eyes. He feared the worst for poor little Grok. Please don’t say he will make a nice sacrifice!
‘Do you know how I became Arch Predicant? Of course you don’t. It was not through bloodline, election or war, but through the will of Zaal. I was just a lowly temple guard when the previous Arch Predicant received a message from Zaal that I would be his successor.’
Jason opened his eyes and looked at Doo. She looked back at him with anger and disbelief in her face. They both knew what was coming …
‘Zaal spoke to me last night,’ the Arch Predicant continued. ‘I heard his words in the storm that raged and shook the stones of this temple. Zaal told me that the boy was mine to care for and raise as my own son; to educate and train in the ways of ruling and of war. Grok will be the one who unites the zelfs and the balaks and ends the centuries-long war between us.
‘Grok will be the next Arch Predicant.’
11—VISION
‘No,’ Jason said. ‘That’s just ridiculous. Grok can’t be Arch Predicant. For a start, how do you know he even believes in Zaal? Have you asked him? What did he say? Goo goo, ga ga?’
The Arch Predicant stared incomprehensibly at Jason at the thought of anyone, let alone Grok, not believing in Zaal.
‘I mean, look at him,’ Jason went on in a rage, ‘he’s just a baby. Babies don’t care about your stupid religion.’ (The Arch Predicant’s masked stare seemed to suddenly get even colder) ‘What if he doesn’t want to be your apprentice? What if he want to become, oh I don’t know, a ballet dancer when he grows up? Or a lumberjack?’
There was a few moments of silence. Nobody seemed to have an immediate answers to this. Wind howled through the temple, splattering everyone with cold drops of rain. Lightning flashed, turning the grey stone bright white.
‘There is no greater honour that being chosen by Zaal to be his voice and servant on Corroza,’ the Arch Predicant said in a tone that brooked no argument.
‘Yes, but Zaal didn’t choose him,’ Jason went on, in a seemingly desperate attempt to antagonise the Arch Predicant as much as possible. ‘You chose him. You want control over him just as you want control over all the balaks.’
‘Grok can’t be Arch Predicant, anyway,’ Doo said. ‘He is the king of the balaks. He must return to his people.’
The Arch Predicant turned his cold stare to Doo. ‘He will never leave this city. He will never leave this temple, just as I have never left these last thirty years. Zaal recognises no kings. He recognises no princesses either. You will remain here, too, Doogla, and serve as one of my temple guards. I hear that you are a fierce warrior. I am sure you will protect your brother with your utmost zeal.’
‘You got that part right at least,’ Doo snapped.
As if to seal the deal, the Arch Predicant walked to Doo and deposited her baby brother in her arms. Then he came up and stood in front of Jason.
‘And as for you, Jason Brown, I have an extremely important role for you to fill. Since my trusted general Dravid Karkor left Perazim twenty years ago, my armies have not seen a leader with his courage, skill and authority. It was you who killed Karkor; it will be you who ultimately takes his place. My warriors will respect the man who defeated one of our greatest heroes.’
Jason felt a disorienting surge of pride. The Arch Predicant certainly knew how to flatter
and push people’s buttons. He knew his name, for a start! Jason didn’t think that it was good time to tell the Arch Predicant that Dravid Karkor had planned to steal the bionoids for himself and then return to Corroza and take power. He turned to catch Brandon’s eye, but his friend was looking down at the ground, lost in thought.
‘You will work alongside Brandon,’ the Arch Predicant continued, ‘just as Karkor worked alongside Talem Tarsus, in developing and testing nanobot technology. Although, this time, the partnership will be strong and will not sour. You will both be rewarded with money, privilege and status, and answer to no human, zelf or balak.’
Brandon looked up. ‘We answer to no one?’
It was a good question.
The expressionless masked face turned from Jason to Brandon. ‘You know you cannot deny Zaal.’
Jason was just inches from the Arch Predicant, and he could see a gap in the man’s armour, where his mask met his collar. There was a sliver of pale skin and a pulsing vein. One fast jab would be enough …
‘Nobody commands the bionoids except me,’ Brandon said.
‘But who commands you?’ the Arch Predicant growled. ‘Do you consider yourself above a god?’
‘I consider myself free from gods,’ Brandon said tactfully.
‘And I’m considering bending over,’ Jason added, ‘and letting Zaal kiss my ass!’
What the hell did I say that for!? Oh well, no turning back now …
The Arch Predicant swivelled furiously back to Jason, but only succeeded in running into Jason’s bionic fist, which punched upwards, taking him in the chin right under his mask. The mask cracked and twisted around the Arch Predicant’s head. Blinded, the alien high priest dropped to one knee to steady himself.
Jason delivered a crushing jab to the Arch Predicant’s stomach that sent him flying backwards, smashing into one of the stone pillars that held up the temple roof. The pillar actually cracked, and stone dust drifted down in a cloud.
Brandon looked stunned.
Doo looked awestruck.
Grok started to cry.
Nobody moved for several long seconds. The Arch Predicant lay still, too, and blood dribbled down the stone column from a rent in his mask.
‘What,’ Brandon stammered, ‘did you just do?’
‘Ended a war,’ Jason said, although he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened either. He turned to Doo and Grok. ‘Your Majesties, I humbly decline your offer of a knighthood. It’s just not my style, really.’
‘You actually killed him,’ Doo said. ‘Just as promised. Brandon surrendering and us getting captured must have been all part of Zaal’s plan.’
‘Can we just forget about Zaal for a minute,’ Jason said. ‘It was more luck really, even if I so say so myself. But when you are at war you have to take opportunities as they come—’
‘We weren’t at war,’ Brandon snapped. ‘I got us a ceasefire! Now what do you think is going to happen? As soon as they find out what you did here, the zelfs are going to resume their attacks … and this time they won’t stop until they’ve driven the balaks to extinction.’
Jason was momentarily stuck for words. Maybe he had been a bit too hasty and impulsive. But then his brain started to kick into gear. ‘Your stupid ceasefire was about to run out anyway,’ he told Brandon. ‘The Arch Predicant wasn’t going to settle for anything less than complete control over us all, including the bionoids. All I did was save us wasting another minute of pointless discussion!’
Brandon sighed and looked over at their fallen enemy. ‘Maybe,’ he conceded. ‘What are we going to do about him, anyway?’
Doo handed Grok to Brandon and went up to the Arch Predicant’s body. ‘I have a plan,’ she said, tugging at the cracked mask. ‘Jason is almost as tall as this guy. Let’s dress him up in the armour and get him to pretend to be the Arch Predicant!’
Jason actually laughed. The world had gone crazy. This was the most ridiculous situation he had ever gotten himself into, ever. He looked at the Arch Predicant’s tall, but thin, body. ‘I might need to go on a diet first,’ he said.
Then the world turned from ridiculous to terrifying.
As Doo twisted the fearsome beaked mask back the right way round, the Arch Predicant’s body jerked back into life. He reached out an armoured fist and grabbed Doo around the neck. She had to kick hard at his face and arm before he let go and she was able to scrabble free.
The Arch Predicant slowly stood up. He turned his glowering yellow eyes on Jason and walked towards him, haltingly at first, but then faster as he seemed to shake off his injuries.
Jason stood his ground, readied his right fist, and as the Arch Predicant approached, he delivered a fast jab to his opponent’s ribs. This time though, he didn’t have the advantage of catching the Arch Predicant unawares; the blow was absorbed by the body armour, which seemed to soak up the damage, glowing a weird purple colour at the point of impact.
The Arch Predicant still wielded Catron’s Claw. He slashed out at Jason, catching him with a glancing blow across the cheek which drew blood.
‘Brandon!’ Jason yelled. Brandon had the power to dissolve the bionoid sword, if nothing else.
But Brandon seemed unwilling to do so. ‘Just stop!’ he pleaded, apparently to both combatants. ‘We can still rescue the ceasefire and talk!’
‘We will resume talking,’ the Arch Predicant agreed, kicking Jason to the floor. ‘Once this blasphemer is dead!’
Jason jumped back to his feet. So Brandon was going to sit this one out again, was he? Well, at least in the hands of the Arch Predicant, Catron’s Claw was simply just a sword. Jason held out his arm and took the next blow directly on his metal elbow. He then jerked his elbow right into the Arch Predicant’ solar plexus, stopping him in his tracks.
He noticed Doo was coming up behind the Arch Predicant, too. Between them, they should have no trouble putting him down for good this time.
But them Doo stopped in her tracks and fell over, clutching her head in pain. Jason suddenly felt it too—a massive headache that made him feel like his head was about to explode. There was only thing in the world that could deal out such trauma …
‘Brandon,’ he gasped, as the Arch Predicant rose once more. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Brandon was holding Grok tightly. ‘Nothing!’ he said. ‘I’m not … oh no!’
Through tears of pain, Jason realised that the Arch Predicant was pointing Catron’s Claw directly at him.
‘Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes!’ the Arch Predicant said. ‘I can feel its power! I can control it!’
Jason tried to lash out as his opponent closed in once more, but he found his limbs were heavy and numb. His throat felt tight and his muscles spasmed as the bionoids ran riot throughout his body. The Arch Predicant’s control over them was chaotic and heavy-handed: the nanobots just seemed to have been let loose in his body unguided, to blindly trash his insides. As Brandon had once said, it was easier to use the bionoids to destroy than it was to heal.
Kat always used to tell me it took her hours to build the sandcastles that I used to have fun kicking down! Now I know what she meant!
Through the pain, he felt armoured fingers wrap themselves around his face. The Arch Predicant’s mask loomed closer. ‘You fool,’ the voice hissed from the unseen mouth. ‘You could have had it all. But now I’ll give you a fate worse than death. It is fitting that you should remain alive, at least for a while, so that you truly appreciate what you have lost.’
And with that, the Arch Predicant pressed his index finger harder into Jason’s flesh, breaking through the skin and scoring up his cheekbone towards his eyeball.
‘No,’ he moaned, but there was no escape. As the sharp armoured point entered his eye socket he tried to scream, but the sound caught in his throat.
Then suddenly the Arch Predicant stepped away. Through his one good eye, Jason could see him holding Catron’s Claw out in front of him. For a moment, he thought the Arch Predicant was going
to take off his head, but then the sword started to glow: first orange, then white, and then in a blinding flash it disintegrated in a flashing rain of stars.
Jason regained control of his body. Doo had found her feet too, and she ran over to hold him as he staggered about, blood pouring from his eye socket. The Arch Predicant, meanwhile, had turned on Brandon.
‘What have you done?’ he raged.
‘I destroyed them,’ Brandon said. ‘Every single last one of them. I made a promise once that the bionoids would never be used as a weapon. So Catron’s Claw … my father’s terrible legacy … is no more.’
12—NOTHING
Jason had no fight left in him. He sat on the cold, hard, wet stones of the temple, his head in his hands, listening to the commotion around him. A whole platoon of temple guards had appeared from down below. By the time they arrived, the Arch Predicant was calm, collected and in control again. If his soldiers wondered why a column was smashed, their leader’s mask cracked, and why there was blood everywhere, they didn’t ask.
‘Sergeant, open a console and scan for density of Tarsus particles,’ the Arch Predicant ordered.
The sergeant went to a nearby column and revealed a hidden touchscreen monitor. He prodded it a few times, then turned to his master to deliver his report: ‘Particle density at zero point zero zero zero zero percent, Your Holiness. There was a positive reading just five minutes ago, but it just … vanished.’
‘I told you. It’s no trick,’ Brandon said. ‘I should have destroyed the bionoids a long time ago.’
‘Let us hope it is not something you come to regret,’ the Arch Predicant said. ‘Sergeant, how many balaks do we have working in the city?’
The guard turned back to the console. ‘Two thousand balaks, most of them working in the factory ring.’
‘Slave labour!’ Doo hissed to Jason.
‘Deliver two hundred of them to the temple tomorrow night,’ the Arch Predicant dictated. ‘Have them draw lots to determine who is chosen. Tell them that Zaal is punishing them after thwarting an attempted uprising. They should accept that explanation, and fear will make the survivors should work that little bit harder. Production levels shouldn’t suffer.’