The Atomic Sea: Omnibus of Volumes Six, Seven and Eight

by Conner, Jack

  A pirate cuffed Janx on the head. “Shut up.”

  “You know who I am?”

  The pirate struck him again, and blood leaked from Janx’s ear. “Shut up!”

  Janx shot a murderous look at the man, marking him for future retribution, but said nothing.

  Ani, Avery thought miserably. Where are you? He wanted to ask Hildra about her, but didn’t dare, not here. If Ani had miraculously not been found, talking about her would only alert the enemy to her presence.

  The pirates ushered them down through the tight corridors and finally into a small dark cell without windows, directly in the middle of the ship, but low, perhaps below the waterline. Avery could feel a change in the way the ship moved around them, and it was colder. The barred metal door, crusted with age, slammed shut, and the pirates moved away. Two of the ones with the deadly whips took position at the end of the hall, not wanting to be too close to Layanna and her tentacles, whips or not.

  They needn’t have worried. Exhausted and in pain, Layanna put her back against the disgusting rear bulkhead and slipped down it till she rested on her rear, eyes staring faraway but not seeming to see anything.

  Hildra swore and pounded the iron bars with her one hand. Avery wondered where Hildebrand was. With Ani?

  The cell was dark, and he picked his way to the back of it with care, feeling things snap and squelch beneath his feet and trying not to think about what they were. Things moved in the darkness around him; he heard scuffling, scuttling, a squeak. Finding Layanna, he sank beside her.

  “Ani,” he said. “How is she?”

  It was Hildra that answered. “She’s fine. I hid her in the vents while blondie was off botching your rescue attempt.”

  Layanna didn’t rise to the bait.

  “Will she be safe there?” Avery said.

  Hildra didn’t reply, but Janx’s large head moved up and down. “They won’t look there,” he said. “I never did.”

  “Thank you,” Avery told Hildra, meaning it. His eyes burned. Ani, be well.

  “That’s somethin’, at least,” Janx said, and in the darkness Avery could see the big man lean his back against the bars. “Glad the little one’s alright.”

  “She’s tough,” Hildra said. “She almost wouldn’t go.”

  Layanna still refused to say a word. Avery squeezed her hand, but she didn’t squeeze back.

  “What is it?” he whispered, then paused. “What do they mean to do to us?”

  At first she didn’t reply, and he thought he’d have to ask the question again, but then she turned to him, and what he could see of her expression was blank, lifeless. She had lost all hope, he realized—and not just for themselves.

  “Sacrifice,” Layanna said at last. “That’s surely what they mean to do with you. As for me, it will likely be something else—first, at least.”

  A scream echoed in the background, held for a long moment, then faded.

  “Sheridan,” Janx said. “That bitch arranged this.”

  Avery could feel the big man’s accusing glare even in the darkness. He knew they all blamed him for this, for saving Sheridan’s life, and he knew they were not wrong to do so.

  “How did she know these pirates worshipped the R’loth?” he said.

  “That’s most of ‘em these days, at least in these parts,” Janx said. “Back when Segrul—the admiral of the pirating fleet—back when he told me I had to infect myself if I wanted to continue on, that’s when I knew it was time to bail on the life. I got out just when he was leadin’ the great purge to kill all non-infected or infect them.”

  “I remember your story,” Avery said, half surprised—but only half—to discover it was more than just a story. “And now that Octung’s navy is broken, the R’loth are relying on the pirates to be their muscle on the sea.”

  “Different players, same game.”

  “Think that bitch is celebrating with ‘em right now?” Hildra said.

  “I doubt it,” Avery said. “I don’t see her mixing with them very well. But as to whether she’s been taken in by Segrul and his crew as an ally, that’s an excellent question.”

  “Segrul runs a hard lot,” Janx said. “If they didn’t know her, they might’ve raped her, slit her throat and tossed her overboard by now. If I’d been runnin’ things, we would’ve kept her alive for ransom if nothing else. She is an admiral.”

  “But if she’s the one that called for them to attack us ...”

  Another scream rose, then fell. Layanna, still just a shadow in the gloom, hung her head.

  “Not all’s lost,” Avery told her. “We can still reach home again and use the Starfish tissue to devise some defense against it. The R’loth are obviously desperate. Octung’s power is broken, and the R’loth themselves have been lamed by the Device. They have to appeal to their gods for aid. That’s what you told me, right? All we need to do is escape.”

  For the first time, Layanna turned to him, and even in the darkness he could see the wetness in her eyes.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Those whip weapons ... what were they? I thought the Device disrupted most extradimensional devices.”

  “No,” Layanna said. “Only devices along a specific frequency—the weapons my people gifted to Octung, mainly, though there are some wider repercussions. Your race needs extradimensional devices, Francis. Seafood processors, defensive generators, air purifiers, and more. The Device only disabled, mainly, the Octunggen weapons.”

  “So what are those whips if not a weapon?”

  “They ain’t machines, Doc, and they ain’t Octunggen,” Janx said. “Made to be used by fishermen if they bring up something they couldn’t normally handle in their nets. Blurfish, deadeyes, whatever. Things in the sea too warped and weird for knife-work. Why, I’ve seen a blurfish take out five men before we could get it out o’ the boat. They’re not all ... here.” He rapped the metal bulkhead, indicating this world, this reality. “Part of ‘em exists outside, y’know? And the parts ya can’t see can slit you six ways to dead in half a second.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Remember, I was a fisher for a while, and I’ve seen so much weird shit come outta the sea I could write a book on it.”

  “Yeah yeah,” Hildra said.

  “Many a time we didn’t have the venom whips, and we paid for it,” Janx went on. “Alchemists from Seerwan make ‘em, and sell ‘em dear to the larger fishing companies. They’re made out of the tentacles of a certain breed of huge jellyfish, soaked in Atomic energy and kept stored in barrels filled with jellyfish poison to keep ‘em charged up. In my time as a fisher, which weren’t long, thank the gods, I only saw a few o’ the things, never at once, and they was bought used, dried out and hardly worked. Still, they were a great help. Now to see four fresh, charged-up ones together ... Well. Segrul knew his prey. Knew what he was after. He came here just to get you, darlin’, and he prepared for it. Someone paid for those venom whips, in coin or blood, mebbe both.”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Avery told Layanna. “If we can just get you to the sea, you’ll be fine. Won’t you?”

  Hesitantly, she nodded.

  “There,” he said, as if it was all settled. “Now all we need is the right opportunity.”

  Silence stretched, and Avery could hear the creak of wood and metal and laughter trickle down the halls. The ship rocked as it began to get under way again, and the thought haunted him that they might be leaving the Verignun behind, Ani and the Starfish tissue with it. It was unlikely, he told himself. The pirates would want to add it to their fleet. It would have been given a new crew, a pirate crew, and would be sailing along with the rest of the ships, its original crew either murdered or locked up. Since they hadn’t been killed immediately, Avery had to assume most still lived and had been taken prisoner. Perhaps Segrul meant to infect them, convert them and press-gang them. Either way, somewhere on the Verignun, Ani was hiding. He imagined her peeking out from a rusty, overgrown vent grill, hearin
g the boots of pirates storm past and shrinking into the shadows, out of sight, her heart thumping and tears running down her cheeks. Something in Avery’s chest twisted. Ani, be safe. For the love of your mother, be safe.

  He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed for her to stay hidden. He also prayed for forgiveness for causing all this. All those people being raped and killed, at that very moment—it was all on his head.

  Perhaps an hour later, a shape moved toward them down the hall and stopped at the bars, no more than a silhouette. A silhouette Avery knew quite well.

  “Sheridan.”

  The others tensed around him. Hildra lifted her hook.

  “What do you want?” Avery said.

  Sheridan’s voice didn’t come at once, and when it did it wasn’t gloating, as he had expected, but, strangely, sad. “I told you to keep your head down, Doctor. You should not have revealed yourself to Segrul.”

  “Is that what you would have done? Leave a friend of yours to the mercies of a band of pirates by herself?”

  “I would have done what was necessary. If you had kept your head down, I could have bought you from them, but that possibility is gone now.”

  “Bitch,” said Hildra.

  “Can’t believe I ever served under you,” Janx said. “Gods damn.” He kicked something, and it rattled against the wall.

  “Where do they take us?” The question came from Layanna.

  But Sheridan hadn’t come to visit her. Her eyes, what Avery could see of them, stayed on him.

  “I am sorry, Doctor.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. She seemed sincere, and there was no point in antagonizing her. He hadn’t the energy for it, anyway. He remained silent, gazing at her, hoping she might offer some sliver of hope but knowing it unlikely.

  "How did you know how to contact the pirates?" he asked.

  She paused. "The port before Ethali. I made contact with some of their people. I had the right codes. It wasn’t hard." She cleared her throat, and he could sense pain in her voice. “This may be the last time we see each other, Doctor." Then, making herself: “Francis. I just ... wanted to say ...”

  “Yes?”

  She shook her head, as if not quite able to give voice to whatever it was, broke off and moved away without another word. Hildra called her names as she went, but she did not look back.

  Chapter 6

  Avery started awake as someone unlocked the cell with a squeal and a bang, and he blinked up to see a large mutant flanked by two of the whip-wielders. Avery’s group had been left in the cell for over a week, by his reckoning—it was hard to be sure down here, unable to see the passage of sunlight—and he was numbed by inactivity and weak with hunger; they’d been fed, but sparingly, and not well.

  “Come on, you wretches,” the mutant said. “Get up. We've somewhere to be.”

  Avery complied, slowly, joints creaking, and helped Layanna to her feet, as well. They’d suspected they would be called for since the ship stopped moving hours ago. It must have reached a port of some kind. Here whatever it is the pirates intended to do with the group would surely be done.

  The jailers opened the cell and bound the prisoners’ hands behind their backs, then shoved them out into the hall and up several ladders until they reached the main deck. The sun shone brightly overhead, lancing at Avery’s eyes and overwhelming him with its sheer brightness. After so long in the dark, the light, intense and painful, nearly made him pass out. He closed his eyes and would have put his hands over them had his hands been available. Janx cursed and Hildra made gasping sounds.

  Stomping noises approached, and Avery knew it was Segrul with his shored-up clam-leg. “Well well,” came the pirate admiral's gargling voice, “what have we here? Four fine-lookin’ moles, ain’t they, lads?”

  Chuckling. Avery heard sounds—clanging, talking, waves breaking, gulls calling, ships creaking, the stirring and activity of a great number of people. All he could see was flashing brightness so intense he doubled over and dry-heaved onto the deck.

  “Whattaya want us for?” came Janx’s voice.

  “Oh, it ain’t me that wants you, Janx-m'-boy. Come, let’s get this farce over with. The Great One ain’t to be kept waiting.”

  Rough hands propelled Avery forward, and he was aware by the sounds of the others being handled similarly. Nearby came the hiss and briny stench of venom whips. The pirates—it was hard to say how many, but perhaps ten—ushered the group down a boarding ramp and onto what must be a dock, whose loose boards rattled and drummed under Avery’s feet. The sounds of activity grew louder, some passing near and around him.

  “Where are we?” he said as they were forced along. “What port?”

  “Why, you have the distinct honor of steppin’ foot on Colu, heart of the Mago Islands," Segrul said.

  “Mago,” Janx said. “Great.”

  “What?” Avery said. “What is it?” He’d only dimly heard of the chain.

  “Some pre-human race has been livin’ here forever. No one here but them for hundreds of years, worshippers of the deep ones. Dangerous bastards. They’ve been left alone a long time.”

  “Things change,” Segrul said. “They’re our allies now. More than allies. We all serve the same Masters, but the Magons’ve been at it for a lot longer than we have. They’re higher in Their service and counsels.”

  Avery stumbled on a loose board, nearly went spilling off, but someone grabbed him and shoved him along. The burning pain in his eyes was starting to ebb, at least a bit. Around him water lapped against hulls and posts, and he wondered if the air was filtered by purifiers; for Hildra’s and Janx’s sake, he hoped so. The two hadn’t been given environment suits. None of them had.

  “Where's Sheridan?"

  Someone cuffed him on the head, leaving a slimy wetness, and Avery closed his mouth. “I’ve answered all the questions I’m gonna answer outta you,” came Segrul's voice. After a minute, he said, sounding somehow justified, “You chose the wrong course, didn’t you, Janx?” When the whaler didn’t reply, Segrul added, “I would’ve wished otherwise for you, old friend. I never resented your leavin’, you know.”

  “No? I remember it different.”

  “What, that bounty on your head? That was nothing. That was just for the sake of appearances, so’s not to encourage other captains to mutiny. If I’d really wanted you dead the bounty would’ve been much higher.”

  “It kept me hoppin’ for years.”

  Segrul laughed. “I hoped so! Many a night I raised a glass of stolen champagne and toasted the thought of you fleeing one step ahead of my knives. I imagined you always on the go, looking over your shoulder everywhere you went, never able to settle down, and I had many a good chuckle over it. I always said if my knives ever did bring your head back to me I’d have it alchemically preserved, then mount it in me bedroom.”

  “That how you get your kicks now? Starin’ at people’s heads?”

  “I didn’t tell you what I’d do to it there, did I? That nose hole of yours—”

  Janx let out an inarticulate growling sound, and Segrul laughed. Avery was glad when the pirate ceased his chatter and they stepped off the docks and onto solid land. He tried to pause for a moment as his body adjusted, unused to the lack of rolling and pitching—the docks had only been a shaky prelude—but the pirates pushed him forward and he was obliged to keep moving. Sounds of activity surrounded him. He tried to open his eyes, then winced at the bright light and closed them again. Soon. In another few minutes he’d be able to see.

  The pirates marched them down what seemed by the sounds to be a wide avenue. The smells of hundreds of people reached Avery, body odor from normal men and women, yes, but also the distinctive aroma of fish-men, the coppery smell of lobster-folk, the slightly painful sting in the nostrils from the waft of a jellyfish-person. Avery smelled the salty tang of the sea laced with ozone, fish frying somewhere, feces (likely from an open pit), refuse, and various spices from what might be a market.<
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  He opened his eyes—experimentally, then, soon, continuously—and blinked at the strange landscape he walked through. The disorganized sprawl of Colu lay all around him, and sheltering the settlement on three sides were jagged, rocky mountains blocking out half the sky. One mountain behind the others smoked. The buildings of the town were composed of rock, mud, scrap lumber and sheets of metal—mostly things brought to the island by ship. It was easy to see why: the native Magons had almost completely denuded the island. Rocky pinnacles towered over a rocky beach framed by rolling mounds of rock and overhung by rocky shelves. No trees anywhere. Not even a shrub or patch of grass. Whatever the Magons had built with the wood they’d harvested years ago (assuming there ever had been wood) hadn’t lasted through the centuries they’d lived here, and when they had opened their arms to outsiders and allowed the pirates to establish a town where no navy or outside power would interfere with them, the outsiders had had to bring the town with them.

  They had. Ramshackle bars and tattoo parlors and whorehouses, motels and trading posts and questionable eateries stretched in every direction, some even climbing the rocky foothills the town—city, Avery realized—butted up against. Smoke rose from countless chimneys and cook fires and the vents of drug labs. Avery was certain of this last, as several buildings he passed stank of universally illegal chemicals.

  And everywhere there were mutants. Fish-women and seaslug-men, a fat man like a centipede shrimp, a posing prostitute lasciviously sticking out an anemone tongue. A strange creature passed before Segrul’s line of pirates, halting it briefly, and Avery realized the creature was a man who had mutated into something like a giant crab, complete with a shell as high as Avery’s waist, forced to propel himself along the ground in awkward stops and starts. Pirates, never one to waste an opportunity or fail to torment someone who couldn’t fight back, had scrawled lewd pictures and words into his shell, and one of his legs had been broken off. The crab-man finally hop-scuttled out of the way, and Segrul’s party moved forward, Segrul whacking the creature with his cane and cursing him as he went.