“A'yup,” said Danival as he flipped his back on and led the way into the next room.
The next room was more like a corridor; long, narrow and, to Danival's dismay, ideal for any number of insidious traps. They made it about a quarter into the room before Danival keenly noticed a long trap door just up ahead, which closely resembled the floor before and after it and which had covered the entire width of the corridor.
“Wait here a tick,” Danival said. “Dare's a trap door up ahead.” He poked all over the floor ahead of him. Then, satisfied that there was no trigger on the floor, he carefully examined first the left and then the right walls. “I can't find anythin' that could trigger it. Must be triggered de ol' fashioned way. By steppin' on it.”
Just then, the trap door snapped downward and dangled on a hinge on the opposite side of a gaping square. Neither Danival nor Daverex could see from their vantage points where the gaping square led, but both figured it was someplace deadly.
“Dat shouldn't have happened,” said Danival.
“And yet it did.”
“A'yup,” said Danival as the trap door sprang back up into place. He grinned and nodded. “Must be on a timer, just like de fire trap in de last room. Clever!” Okay, stand next ta me 'n be ready ta run across de trap door de next time it comes back up, yeah?”
“Got it,” said Daverex as he walked up next to Danival. On the way, Daverex saw a beam of light hit his shoulder and looked up to see a tiny crack in the cave ceiling. He thought nothing of it and took his place next to Danival.
Soon the trap door snapped downward again.
“Why would a trap door open ahead of us instead of directly underneath us, anyway? What's the point?” Daverex said. Then he heard a grinding of stone behind him and craned his neck to see the answer to his question barreling down on them. “I think we better run now and try to jump the gap!”
Before Danival could crane his neck to see the stone rolling pin adorned with hundreds of angry spikes threatening to turn them both into a gory cave floor spread, Daverex grabbed his shoulder and yelled, “GO!”
They sprinted and leapt over the opening in the floor. Danival barely made it, landing painfully on his stomach. Daverex missed the jump, although he was able to cling to the edge of the opening with his fingers, the rough texture of his gloves giving him added gripping power.
Danival scrambled to get up and watched in horror as the Rolling Pin of Death chewed at his friend's back with its many angry spikes like a cheese grater before falling to the depths of the floor opening.
Daverex's suit resisted any serious damage the spikes may have done to his body, but the pressure alone was enough to make him wince in great pain. Also, the dragging of the spikes along his back was sufficient to make him lose the hold he had with his right hand. Now that his weaker left hand was doing all the work of keeping him from plunging to his death, it began to slip.
Danival dug his boots into crevices on the rough cave floor, reached down and said, “Give me yer right hand.”
Though his right arm was sore from being yanked down, Daverex thrust it upwards and Danival grabbed his hand with both of his. “Whatever ya do, don't look down.”
Daverex looked down and saw a huge shark-like monster with muscular arms and legs trying to grab a hold of him and drag him down into the murky, watery depth below. Then he pulled his legs upward, barely out of reach of the creature, and searched desperately for a foothold. He was immediately relieved to find it.
“I said DON'T look down! Ack!” said Danival. “Okay, on three, pull up wit yer left hand. “One. Two. Three!”
Daverex and Danival both pulled up with all their combined strength. Little by little, Daverex made it to the safety of the cave floor and collapsed, again exhausted.
Danival bent over, gradually catching his breath. When he did, he said, “My ol' gramma used ta say, dat what don't kill ya makes ya stronger.”
Daverex laughed and said, “I should be able to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders by now then.” Little did he know that theory would soon be tested to its very limits.
CHAPTER TEN
D anival and Daverex walked to the opposite end of the corridor, only to be stopped by a solid cave wall.
“Dare must be a hidden door 'ere somewhere,” said Danival as he began running his hand along the wall. Eventually, he came upon a row of six separate square indentations that only to his unique ability of trap detection seemed out of place. “Dare are six panels dat can be pushed in 'ere,” Danival said to Daverex, pointing out each one. “One'll open a way forward, I'll wager. De others'll likely set off a nasty trap.”
“Which one?”
“If'n I knew dat, I'd o' pushed it by now. Truth is, I'm too damn tired ta give a chit.”
Daverex sighed. “Is there a way to determine which one?”
“Sure is,” said Danival. He pointed at the square panel on the far left, then each subsequent one as he said, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a tiger--”
“Stop that! Let me have a look at the panels.”
“Be my guest,” said Danival as he stepped aside.
Daverex stepped forward and closely studied each panel. He turned on his built-in binoculars, zoomed in as far as his control panel would allow and studied each one even closer.
“Yer wastin' yer time. Ain't nothin' dare but rough patches o' cave wall. I say we stick wit my method 'o deduction.”
“Shush! There's writing on the third panel. Almost microscopic.”
“Yer chitin' me! What's it say?”
Even with the binoculars zoomed in all the way, Daverex struggled to make out what the writing said.
“Only those with vision of night...
shall witness a change ever so bright...
but first is required a bit of a bat...
spread upon me and my brothers flat.”
“Well I'll be dipped in motor oil!” said Danival. “But what's it mean?”
Daverex thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers. “Take off your backpack.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Danival shrugged, removed his backpack and set it on the ground next to Daverex.
Daverex opened the backpack.
“If'n dare be somethin' ya want from dare, ya could o' just asked me fer it.”
“You don't want to have to take out what I'm after.” Within the backpack, Daverex opened the plastic bag containing the giant bat guano then dipped his gloved hand into it.
“Gross!” said Danival.
“But necessary,” said Daverex as he withdrew his gloved hand, now coated with giant bat guano. He spread an even, flat coat of the guano along each of the cave wall panels, redipping his gloved hand into the bag as needed. Next, he watched the panels as gradually the fifth one became very bright in his helmet night vision. “Looks like the fifth panel is our way forward, my friend.”
“Amazing!”
“Must be a chemical reaction between the guano and whatever's on only the fifth panel. At any rate, we better stand on either side of the wall before I push the the panel. No telling what's on the other side.”
“Agreed.”
Daverex stood on the right side of the wall, his laser pistol reader to fire.
Danival stood on the left side of the wall, his rifle at the ready.
Daverex pushed in the fifth panel and a section of the cave wall gradually glided to the right to reveal a low light emanating from the next room. He turned off his night vision option and Danival slid his goggles up over his forehead. The first thing to hit Danival was the stench of death as it invaded his nostrils. Luckily, he had an old oil rag in his back pocket. He placed it over his nose and then tied it behind his head. The various potent engine smells coating the rag did a decent job of masking the stench of death. Daverex's environmental suit filtered the offensive odor considerably, but not entirely. Then they saw the source of it, bodies just up ahead; hundreds of them littering the floor. Some
were loosely scattered. Some were in piles. All of them were in varying degrees of decay.
Most of the dead bodies, Daverex noticed, wore the tan coveralls of the Reavers. He felt a deep pang of sorrow at such a waste of life. He remembered that low light was ideal for his suit's stealth capability, so he turned it on and immediately disappeared from Danival's view.
Danival whispered, “Man, if ya ever get yer hands on another one o' dem suits, ya gotta let me trade ya fer it.”
“We'll see,” whispered Daverex. “Scout out for traps. I have your back.”
“I'd rather have yer suit, but okay.” As he moved forward, Danival kept his senses attuned to anything out of place in the room, apart from the dead bodies, which he was careful to avoid. He discovered no traps in this room, but when he turned a corner leading to a new corridor, he discovered something far worse. “Holy chit! Yer a...a lich!”
“Yesss, and you are lunch!” said the seven-foot tall skeleton with glowing fiery red eyes, wearing a magic-caster's robe and holding a crystal-tipped staff nearly as tall as him. The lich raised its hands into the air and said, “You have survived my traps thus far. You will not survive the last. Tansha walqital! Tansha walqital!” And with that command, all of the hundreds of dead bodies slowly began to rise at once. “Where is your friend? Hiding in a corner somewhere like a frightened rodent?”
Just then, Daverex slowed time and shot the lich in the back several times as it initiated the casting of a spell. While the shots did no real damage, they did stun the lich for a few seconds. It was enough to interrupt its spell casting and to allow Daverex to snatch the artifact he came for – The Infertility Idol – which was perched on a pedestal directly behind the lich. Daverex slipped the artifact into his suit's backpack, which caused it to seemingly disappear.
The lich recovered from the shock of Daverex's laser pistol blasts and said, “What magic, this? Strange lightning from the air? Levitation and invisibility upon objects? And this all without movement of hands or a solitary spoken word? You will not have my favorite ornament! You are a powerful rival, thus your destruction is imperative!” Knowing that there was no longer time to cast a spell and being unable to see Daverex, the lich pointed the crystal tip of its staff at Danival. Danival's eye went wide and he froze in awe, mesmerized by the crystal as though it held sway over him. The crystal glowed a bright white and crackled with energy. Daverex pushed the staff away from Danival and it spun in an arc. The energy crackling within the crystal shot out towards the undead army, instantly turning all of them within a fifteen foot radius into piles of white ash. That only counted for about a quarter of the total army, however. The remainder were on their feet and closing in on Danival.
With the undead becoming white ash, an iridescent circular barrier – like a giant soap bubble – formed around the lich. “You cursed little man!” said the lich. “My fallen comrades have given me greater power; a protection against your energy spells! I believe I have figured out your power! It must flow from your mind, thus no movement or word is necessary! Then off your head must come!” With that, the lich twirled his staff around to reveal a long, glinting, curved blade. Ideal for the severing of heads. The lich gripped the shaft firmly with both hands and raised the bladed staff to strike at Danival's neck.
Daverex slowed time again and shot his laser pistol several more times at the lich. The shots bounced harmlessly off the barrier.
“I told you, infuriating little man,” said the lich. “Now meet your deserved end!”
Daverex knew that pushing the staff away wouldn't work a second time and that pushing Danival out of the way of the blade would put him in the path of the undead horde. Simply put, Daverex had run out of options and the still stupefied Danival was surely doomed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
T he thunder of many heavy footsteps could be heard coming from the entrance to the room. The lich, Daverex and all of the undead looked there to see a score or more men and women dressed in black and armed with automatic weapons and swords.
“It looks like you could use a hand, Deadeye!” cried Shadow, leader of the group of thieves currently rushing the undead army en masse. “I told you we'd be keeping an eye on you.”
Daverex grinned, and with the undead army distracted, pushed Danival out of the way of the lich's chopping blade. The lich roared in anger. With its undead army falling apart before its malevolent eyes and the relentless attacks against its weakening barrier of protection, the lich reluctantly fell back against the back wall of an antechamber and said to Danival, “This is not over, little man. You have my ornament, but I will have your head!” Then he made a sweeping gesture with his arms and magically disappeared behind the wall as though it were vapor. From then until the end of the feverish battle, Daverex concentrated on protecting his helpless friend by fighting off the handful of undead that tried to get at him.
Meanwhile, though Shadow's guild members were outnumbered more than twenty-to-one, the undead were no match for their combined abilities and firepower. In a frenzy of fighting lasting just a few minutes, the lich's army of undead was decimated. This great victory came at a cost, however. Three of Shadow's guild members succumbed to the ferocity of the attack and another six were mortally wounded.
Shadow had a gash on he right calf and was limping towards Daverex.
“Are you okay, Shadow?” said Daverex.
“I will be. The wound is superficial. Aegis should have it healed up in no time.”
Daverex lowered his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. “About Aegis...He left to...to bury his brother.”
Shadow laughed.
Daverex looked at her. Shocked. “That's funny to you?”
“Aegis is an android,” said Shadow. “So is his brother.” She made air quotes around the word brother.
Daverex continued to look shocked, and was now speechless as he tried to process this new information.
“Very advanced experimental tech we liberated from a military compound recently and then reprogrammed to fit our needs. Of course, we didn't know at the time that neither android was capable of speaking or writing. You never noticed that neither of them tried to communicate through writing, did you?”
Daverex shook his head.
“You're damn fine in the field, but you have a lot to learn about being observant. Don't worry. You'll get there. Anyway, we tracked you here by following the transmitter installed on the androids and when Aegis left with Fracas's body, I sent a drone to observe you through the crack in the ceiling of the room with the spiked rolling pin thing. That was hard to watch, but you did fine. Oh, and Fracas is fine by the way. Both androids have very realistic reactions to a myriad of effects.
Daverex had a theory. “Have you been testing me this whole time?”
“This whole mission has been a test of your gifts and abilities, yes. Making exceedingly tough decisions is a key element of artifact retrieval field work. I know you feel a pang of resentment at being tested like this – most do – but the good news is you passed with exemplary results! Well done, Deadeye!” Shadow patted him on the back.
Daverex noticed that Danival was staring at all the carnage near him. Daverex walked up to him and said, “How you feeling, Dan?”
“Okay, I reckon. What the hell happened here?”
“A bloodbath. We won though, with the help and sacrifice of some new allies.”
“Dat's good. Sorry I wasn't much help in de end. Kind o' blacked out dare fer a bit.”
“Don't sweat it. We couldn't have gotten past all those traps without you.”
“A'yup. Can we go home now? I tink I had 'bout 'nough adventurin' for a while 'n I'd like ta give Dan Junior a big 'ol bear hug right 'bout now.”
Daverex patted Danival on the shoulder and guided him towards the room's exit, saying, “You bet, buddy. You bet. Do me a favor though?”
“Anythin'.”
“Let me know right away if you ever see a seven-foot tall skeleton with glowing fiery red eyes and a
bladed staff.”
“A'yup.”
* * *
The next day, Daverex was in the middle of his combat training routine within his Tech'er complex home when the simulation was shut down and the overhead lights came on. Daverex looked up and there was Ms. Greene standing on the observation rafters, arms crossed, looking all “business as usual”.
Here we go again, Daverex thought. “Ms. Greene. A pleasure, as always,” is what he said.
“My office. Ten minutes,” Ms. Greene said.
“Roger that.”
Eight minutes later, Daverex was standing in Ms. Greene's office. She wasted no time getting down to business. “Newell, I have summoned Melchor here as a witness to our discussion regarding your precarious situation as a Tech'er. To clarify, by discussion, I mean I talk and you listen. Understood?”
Daverex nodded.
“Good. Now, your W.I.Q. reports have already reached the appropriate channels of higher authority. As a result, there is nothing I can do about your impending formal termination.”
Daverex looked shocked.
“Don't give me that look, Newell. I haven't finished yet. Nothing prevents me from transferring you to another division of the Tech'ers. Doing so would allow me to alter your less than stellar background to better suit the expectations of internal records. In effect, you will receive a new identity. I have been thinking of adding more field testers of newly invented equipment to the Division of Empirical Field Testing, or D.E.F.T. The division is now headed by Melchor here, so you will be working directly under him, which I trust will keep you out of any further trouble. It is dangerous work, but judging by what you have accomplished here today, I suspect you could handle it well enough. A rank of level two or higher is required for the transfer, so I am promoting you to Level 2 Tech'er, effective immediately. Congratulations, Newell.” Ms. Greene said all of this with the enthusiasm of a vending machine.
Deadeye- Episode II Page 9