Chapter 5
“Thoughts, Memories and Phantasms”
The humans Dr. and Mrs. Goodman sat together on the couch of their suite as a Concubine Priestess explained to them, “The Mystic Ambiguous Clarity was invited in the hope of fostering peace and understanding between the races. He accepted the invitation but as an opportunity to commit sabotage and possibly assassination. He and his armed accomplices remain at large within the convent. Do you have any other questions?”
Barbara Goodman raised her hand. The Priestess Doris the Helpful nodded. Mrs. Goodman asked, “Are you even trying to take Dr. Clarity alive?”
“Yes, ma’am. Lady Dolorous herself already implored him for his surrender.”
“What will you do if you capture him?”
“He shall be held and questioned.”
“If you capture him, may I meet with him and speak with him?”
The Concubine answered, “That would be for Lady Dolorous herself to decide.”
“Would you ask her for me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Barbara Goodman looked at her husband. He told the Concubine Priestess, “Thanks for answering all our questions. We’re satisfied.” Doris Purple the Helpful bowed then departed.
Barbara told her husband, “Something about this whole thing doesn’t feel right.”
Harvey cautioned, “Let’s not worry our thoughts about our feelings. We don’t have the facts to have an opinion.”
“We’ve met Ambiguous Clarity.”
“That doesn’t mean we really know the guy.”
Barbara wondered, “Was that girl with him his daughter?”
“Sweetie, Mystics can live to be a thousand years old. That ‘girl’ could be his great grandmother for all we know.”
“Is she one of his accomplices?”
“Probably.”
Mrs. Goodman commented, “She is beautiful.”
“Yeah: in a weird sort of way. She’s too tall and blue for my tastes.”
“Harvey, that’s racist!”
“Sweetie, the girl isn’t even human.”
The couple snuggled. Barbara reminded, “She may be an assassin.”
“Maybe,” the man affectionately pecked the woman. “She’s not after us, though, so we’re safe.”
“How do you know?”
The man shrugged, claiming, “I’m an astrobiologist and you’re my wife. We’re just not important enough for an alien assassin to bother with. Seriously: why would she kill us?”
The monorail tunnels were not continuous enclosures but rather intermittent passes within load-bearing masonry. A ride in one of the open cars provided a scenic view of the interior of the Convent of Bosky.
Vain Glory ducked low as she led her companions from one tunnel to another. Hearing nothing but sensing the chill of danger, the three hid. A swooshing train of cars filled with Sentinels passed them.
Miss Glory fretted, “It is worrisome that the walkways within these tunnels remain unguarded. I feel as if we are being allowed to go where the enemy wishes us to go.”
“Yes,” Dr. Clarity agreed, “but many await us in the halls and corridors. Alas, all ways prove unfriendly.”
Big-Big’s power-pack was a titanium alloy box rigged with a makeshift harness. The box was normally fitted into a slot on a vehicle, aircraft or prefabricated sentry barrier. A Stormgun Type 89 held a thousand charges but the box awarded it an additional ten thousand charges. The weapon itself was too heavy for a human to wield. The box itself was too heavy for a human to easily carry. Fortunately, even the weakest megasaurian was stronger than the strongest human. The Stormgun Type 89 proved a decisive boon in the hands of Big-Big. Many of the weapon’s charges had been spent, however.
Dr. Clarity placed his right hand on the power-pack of Big-Big’s weapon. Dr. Clarity pointed his wand at the hand. He muttered, “From little a bounty more.”
Big-Big rumbled a chuckle, “Magic tickles.” He felt the power-pack tingling, warming and getting heavier.
“Not the magic,” Dr. Clarity corrected. “It is the stimulation, not the stimuli, you feel. I am pouring energy into this supplementary device. I am invigorating the substance within and fashioning it to multiply until replenished.” The professor rambled, “Energy is the substance of all things real. Matter is merely the flow of energy arranged by frequency into a delicate state of balance.” Big-Big nodded, as if understanding. Vain Glory doubted the brute grasped the particulars but she did believe he understood the gist.
Erythro was a world of red jungle under a stormy, yellow sky. There were seas, lakes and rivers but no oceans. The jungle was wet and the sky rainy. Farmlands growing purple or pink crops surrounded cities of marble spires and glowing structures of ornate crystal. The People of the Third Eye were the inhabitants of this world. Their commoners labored in the fields and cities. Their warlocks ruled from the towers. Their warriors guarded the cities and hunted in the jungle.
Fiercely-Devoted was a warrior and a hunter of this world and its people. The caste of warriors and hunters enforced the will of the warlocks and kept the peace. When mustered into armies it fought the battles. Fiercely-Devoted was the veteran of many battles. It had matched wits and prowess with the warriors of the Mystic Confederacy. Yes, friends and kin fell but Fiercely-Devoted never failed to avenge them. It proved too swift and nimble for the archery of the enemy. Its swordplay bested their swords and glaives. It returned from the Galactic War a hero.
To the Phantoms, the sword was the weapon of hunting and warring alike. The blade was short, broad and curved. The grip was long and curved outward. The pommel was a nasty bludgeon.
Commoners were simpleminded, weak and cowardly. Warlocks were wise and powerful magicians but sluggish in battle. The warriors were swift, nimble and ferocious. A warrior could channel its ferocity into a manifestation of form that leapt ahead of itself. The snapping of the stretching lunge would bring a warrior’s blade or pommel hurling to bear with tremendous force. The victim would be sundered or beheaded or its head smashed.
Fiercely-Devoted was the captain of Lord Earnestly-Seeking’s guard. They had come to an alien planet of green jungles. There was not to be a fight. Infidels were to hear the Unheard Whisper and return to their people converted. Alas, warriors were in the midst of the infidels. They proved killers and defilers.
Earnestly-Seeking held a twisted wooden rod topped with a crystal. The lord of the Third Eye greeted its guard of swordsmen, telling Fiercely-Devoted, “Follow me and I shall lead you to them.”
“No!” the captain of the guard refused. “Milord, your wisdom is a great strength of our people. Stay! The swords of your warriors shall do your will.”
Lord Earnestly-Seeking reminded, “I too am a soldier.”
“Milord is a soldier of wisdom. Its bodyguards are swordsmen. Let us use our swords without fear for the safety of Earnestly-Seeking.”
The other eleven swordsmen crowded closer to their captain. The twelve were loyal but not always obedient. For love of their lord they would not allow Earnestly-Seeking to join them. The eyes of the warlock flashed white as it blessed its warriors, “May your blades or pommels strike hard and true.”
Vain Glory dropped into a narrow maintenance corridor, her sword drawn. She looked up and nodded, signaling that all was clear. Big-Big let his weapon dangle by its cable as he climbed down the short ladder. Dr. Clarity followed after. “Hopefully the dragonfly-type entomopter remains and is refueled,” the professor uttered. “Should it prove unavailable, a beetle-type may suffice.”
Vain Glory asked, “You know how to fly an aircraft?”
“Not in the manner it was meant to be operated, but yes. The aircraft’s computer shall do most of the piloting.”
Miss Glory took point. Big-Big took the rear, his weapon ready to gun down any sudden pursuers.
Two Sentinels faced the opening to a stairwell… when suddenly struck in the neck! The two dropped. Vain stepped over the sprawled bodies and en
tered the winding stairwell they had been guarding. Neither Dr. Clarity nor Big-Big followed her down, however. Actually, Vain did not remember them being with her for the longest while. She backtracked.
“Dr. Clarity?” Vain whispered as loud as she dared. “Big-Big?”
Vain Glory was a veteran of the Galactic War and a defender of Numinous and the Nether Colonies. She recognized the shimmer of Phantom illusions. She knew the danger of the eldritch silence. Her blood chilled and her skin crawled as she felt the stares of what lurked in the shadows.
A cold, burning gust lunged! Vain ducked and rolled, the swiping blade of a Phantom barely missing her. The Mystic sprang at the spectral form and plunged her own blade into its shapeless mass. It wailed and its three eyes flashed. The yellowish form splashed at Vain Glory’s feet. She ducked as yet another blade swung at her!
All became stillness. Vain closed her eyes, knowing she would feel her assailants before she saw them. Three cold shrieks burned through her, consuming her strength! She collapsed where she stood. A form and its sword lunged at her. She rolled away, hearing the scrape and glimpsing the sparks of a blade sliding across the floor.
Vain channeled her courage into strength. She sprang back onto her feet and brandished her sword. She announced, “I am Vain Glory! I have fought you before. Always have I bested you.” The voices again shrieked but to no avail. A form and its sword lunged! The Mystic sprang to meet it and cut it asunder. Goo splashed and a sword clattered.
Three yellow eyes glowed from the shadows. A whisper hissed, “I am Fiercely-Devoted! I shall be the death of Vain Glory!” Alas, it was the entity behind Miss Glory who lunged! The Mystic ducked and the specter shot past her. Whispers laughed.
Vain backed against a wall. Six glowing yellow eyes parted into trios as the two Phantoms drifted to each side of the Mystic. The specters whispered chants. Vain Glory’s ears suddenly rang and her vision blurred. She became dizzy. She stumbled. A Phantom stretched and lunged! Vain leaned aside and skewered the attacker. Goo splashed over her and a sword clattered and slid across the floor behind her.
Fiercely-Devoted shrieked, stretched and lunged! The Phantom spun around the Mystic knocking her off balance. Fiercely-Devoted raised his sword for a chop. Vain Glory slashed the vaguely humanoid form. A white and yellowish mess poured out of it as if bowels. The Phantom wailed as it dissolved where it stood into goo that does not stick.
Vain Glory panted. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She could again hear the ambient hum of machinery. She sought her friends.
“Murder!” gasped the chilling voice of Earnestly-Seeking. “Warriors of the Third Eye are fallen!”
Lady Dolorous asked, “All of them?”
“Yes! They are murdered!”
Dolorous gazed upon the holographic floor plan of where the enemy was believed to be hidden. She commanded Maxeen the Vigilant, “I want a stormgun emplaced in the west hangar. It is to be aimed at the stairwell.”
“Yes, milady.”
Earnestly-Seeking hissed, “I shall avenge my fallen! Milady, allow me to lead Sentinels in the hunt!”
“Lord Earnestly-Seeking, do you hear the Unheard Whisper?”
“I hear it!”
“Does it move you to do what you ask of me?”
The fiery specter that was Earnestly-Seeking cooled until a mild, blue luminescence. Its whispering voice assured, “I shall return to my quarters and meditate.”
Lady Dolorous looked at the robed Priestess Clarissa the Gentle. The human female nodded her hooded head. The Penumbran assured the Phantom, “Lord Earnestly-Seeking, your warriors shall be avenged.”
“Yes, milady.”
Vain found and followed a trail of green blood. The life of a human was red, a Mystic blue and a Phantom yellowish white so the wounded was undoubtedly the megasaurian. Vain hoped she would find Big-Big still alive. “Miss Glory,” her mind heard the voice of Dr. Clarity. “We are near and await you.”
Vain happened upon the yellowish goo she knew to be the corpses of Phantoms. Pock marks and carbon scoring dotted the walls. Miss Glory found Big-Big and Dr. Clarity sitting together in a corner. The megasaurian was covered in nasty gashes and wet with green blood. He panted and his eyes were rolled back. “He shall live,” Dr. Clarity assured. “His magic cannot be cast but it preserves him and shall mend his wounds. He must rest, however, or his strength shall fail him.”
Miss Glory warned, “We shall be unable to accommodate his need should more enemies assail us.”
“I shall die with him should it come to that.” Vain Glory arched an eyebrow. Ambiguous Clarity explained, “Big-Big is not my slave. He came with us for my sake. I shall stay with him for his.”
Miss Glory sat with her companions. She decided, “A good soldier does not abandon her fellows.”
Dolorous the Enticing of the Early Light chose Ambiguous Clarity because she found him interesting. She knew him to be formidable. Though he was scholarly he was keenly intuitive. Though not a warrior or assassin he was dangerous. He had an eye for talent and a way of employing it for his own ends. “Lord Ambiguous the Wavering of the Dying Light,” she envisioned him as a priest of the Living Darkness. She would gladly kneel and bow before him. Alas, he could not be swayed.
Dolorous felt warm and euphoric. She smiled and cooed. She enjoyed her frustration and reveled in her struggle. The pain of killing Ambiguous Clarity would be such a pleasure. Oh, the thrill as something succumbed to nothingness!
Vain Glory scouted while her companions rested. She returned to the winding stairwell and descended. Her blood cooled and her skin crawled. She stopped, closed her eyes and outstretched her hand.
Concubine Sentinels were below, all of them waiting for whoever came out of the stairwell. A stormgun was mounted on a tripod behind a barrier of stacked crates. The women were ready. The way was impassable.
Big-Big’s wounds were clean and mended as if he had never been wounded at all. He remained deathly weary, however, and the healing of his wounds made him hungry and thirsty. Dr. Clarity gave him water from a flask and conjured manna for him to eat.
Miss Glory returned. She reported, “The way you intended is impassable. Many guns and a stormgun wait in ambush. The women are ready, thus, I cannot hide within their gaze.”
“Flow and balance,” the professor reminded. “We must travel the path of least resistance. Miss Glory, you are the most capable scout. I trust you to find us a way.”
“Dr. Clarity, I fear these corridors shall soon be flooded with Sentinels.”
“Perhaps.”
The professor chuckled. Miss Glory arched an eyebrow. Dr. Clarity told her, “In our early wars with the Greater Humanity Empire the fools tried to poison us with gas. The clones of the Golgothites would never be so stupid.”
“What happened?”
“I changed the gas and returned it to them. I set it ablaze. Their chorus of screaming was quite amusing.”
“Indeed.”
Vain Glory scouted. She tiptoed, climbed and crawled about the corridors, catwalks, nooks and crannies. She watched as Concubine Sentinels positioned metal shield barriers and emplaced stormguns. “We are under siege,” Miss Glory realized. “We are to succumb to deprivation or in a storm of plasma bolts.”
Lady Dolorous sat on the floor, her eyes closed, legs folded and hands resting on her knees. She felt the warm, flowing blood and heard the selfless, restless thoughts of Maxeen Purple the Vigilant enter the chamber. The Virgin Soldier stood at ease as she awaited the attention of the meditating Penumbran.
Lady Dolorous opened her black, soulless eyes. She smiled, the sinister glee of her inhuman countenance causing the human clone to reflexively shiver. The soothing, eerily resonant voice of the Penumbran stated, “Your Sentinels are in position and await the inevitable.”
“Yes, milady.”
“Maxeen the Vigilant, you have considered the possibilities and tend to them yet you worry.”
“Milady, I have yet to
do what I believe may be necessary.”
“Tell me.”
“Milady, I am uncomfortable with the idea of relinquishing the initiative. May I have your blessing to flood the section with waves of Sentinels?”
Lady Dolorous laughed. She asked the clone, “Are the lives of your sisters so cheap? Corridors favor the defender.”
“Milady, I have read everything we know about Dr. Clarity and his accomplices. They are too capable and too crafty to be trapped for long. We must deny them the initiative.”
The Penumbran scoffed, “You were cloned from a reckless species.”
“Milady, I have assessed the situation thoroughly.”
“Undoubtedly.” Maxeen Purple the Vigilant was a Sentinel-type Priestess. Like the Girls in Red, she was selfless, efficient and relentless. Lady Dolorous smirked, amused by the clone’s eager willingness to sacrifice. “Do it,” the Penumbran commanded.
“Yes, milady.”
Concubine Sentinels flooded the corridors and catwalks and scoured the chambers and alcoves. “Besieged, perhaps, but stormed nevertheless,” Dr. Clarity watched the throngs. He was with his companions, hidden atop and behind machinery. “Miss Glory, find us a way or we are soon to be discovered and inevitably overwhelmed.”
Vain Glory nodded. She closed her eyes, channeling her mystical energies into a veil that hid her from unfriendly senses. She leapt from her perch across a searching crowd and onto machinery beyond them. The Mystic climbed up onto a catwalk and followed behind a procession of Sentinels. “So many,” she fretted the multitude that sought her and her companions. Escape was the only hope for survival… and it seemed unlikely.
Vain Glory Page 5