Gin paused again.
On the bridge, Proxis stared at the Red Giant. The image on his screen merged with the star just outside the hull beams. On his screen he could see the black bands of the Iron Work. The ship would either incinerate in the star or be smashed against the machine. Soon. For once, he loathed the fact he had no wings.
“Gin, we have no time! If you cannot aid me, then leave the ship’s system and allow me to help Proxis and his siblings. Quickly! In a few seconds, even the hellship’s thrust will not save it from entering the star's terminal curve, not to mention the quirks of the Iron Work!”
Gin appeared next to Proxis. The demon’s eyes were locked on the main screen that showed a field of starless black. It was not empty space, but a band of the Iron Work blotting out the Red Giant beneath it as the ship came very close.
“Time. We did not—” Proxis began without looking at Gin.
“It is done,” Gin said, but with no sense of joy.
“It is.” Proxis noticed the registry of an energy flux through the ship.
A perceptible shift in phase rolled through the ship as its engines slowed and the course altered to sail over the vast machine and star combination. There would be no collision with either element.
“I am glad,” Proxis said and turned to Gin. “Anguhr will appreciate your effort.”
“It was not me, Proxis.” Gin sighed. “It was Zaria.”
“She is free, then?” Proxis cocked his head.
“Yes, now. I feel I have failed you. In that, I feel I failed a friend.”
Proxis paused. He considered both aspects of Gin's sentence, and replied. “Without you, we would now all be dead. You slowed that event so that another could act to finish the mission. It is a typical thing, for demons. It is new for us when such cooperation occurs from outside the horde.”
Gin paused and enjoyed taking a physical breath, even one scented with demons and hellfire. “For so long I never needed to cooperate. Recently, it has become the most needed sort of act. It seems I can learn something from you demons.”
“It was ever thus.” Proxis said and turned back to the main screen.
Gin wondered if Proxis had just made a joke. If not, the wingless demon was obviously more tolerant of his presence. That was a notable victory.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Anguhr walked from his impact crater. Bahl strode down the ridge. The two, armor-clad giants wasted no time closing their distance across the sea of arid wastes. Solok and his horde’s formations soared in anticipation of attack. Bahl’s officers stood ready on the ridge. Their army on its opposite side made circular phalanxes in preparations for aerial attack as the shadows of the demons formation fell over them in intermittent waves. The two leaders met as dust, heat, and tension rolled between them.
“I am Bahl,” he said and stopped, “commander of the allied forces sworn to defeat Hell.”
“I know what you are,” Anguhr said. “I am General Anguhr. I bring my horde to conquer Hell. The Dark Urge or someone near her has violated our truce. Now, Hell faces my wrath and demons. Do not stand against us.”
“We share a common goal, General. Indeed, we share a similar form. And history.”
“Our bipedal, symmetrically bilateral form is fairly common across the galaxy. I may know your unique role in history. I am also called Azarak.”
Anguhr watched but saw no reaction in Bahl’s stare.
“I know your name as a General. I do not know the other.”
“It was given to me by another General, Azuhr. My mother.”
Anguhr removed his helmet. His eyes always burned with inner fire, but his dark hair and features shocked Bahl. He had seen similar faces before, on Azuhr, and his former leader, Sargon.
“I can see you realize we stand at opposite sides from across time.” Anguhr said. “My father was—”
“Sargon. You are the scion. The thing—their child. Your presence answers many questions.”
“And brings forth others.” Anguhr narrowed his fiery stare.
“Such as?” Bahl asked and squinted as dust flew across the face of his helmet and into his eyes.
“Who did you side with?” Anguhr asked. “The Khans loyal to your king, Sargon, or the fearful, rebellious Khans who betrayed my parents?”
Bahl paused. War could ignite from his next sentence. But war with Anguhr would take time. He needed that to destroy a greater enemy. One that Anguhr also claimed as a foe.
“Your parents were warriors,” Bahl said. “They understood the risks of their actions. I can see Sargon glaring back at me, now. Though his eyes did not burn as yours. Nor did Azuhr’s, for that matter.”
“It is not fire that you should fear.” Anguhr reached back and drew his mother’s sword. He thrust the long, black blade into the ground between them, and then replaced his helmet.
“I am a Khan, as was your father. Killing me would be the same as killing him.”
“No. It would be simply be killing you. His possible betrayer.”
“Simple revenge.” Bahl shook his head. “Kings rarely have such vices. Do Generals?”
“Revenge? Or a long arc of retribution? Does not a son avenge his parents for the treachery shown them by the ones they saw as allies?”
“Not always. Sometimes they die in the act.” Bahl said.
“That would not be today.”
“Perhaps.” Bahl turned his head slightly to indicate his forces.
“Certainty.” Anguhr smiled as a shadow from a demon formation fell across them for an instant.
“You think you are just in seeking vengeance. That I betrayed your father, but what of his actions that brought Hell down on all Khans?”
“The acts of all Keepers, when you became Khans, is what brought the wrath of the Dark Urge.”
“That wrath was your mother.” Bahl took a deep breath in recollection of her in battle.
“Yes. And she became one with Sargon, my father. Had you stood with them and not launched a surprise attack, your empires, what was left of them, would still remain.”
“Doubtful. Your mother had slain many of my kind. Her horde had killed their armies. She was the greatest enemy we had fought. If you stood where I did, would you trust her? Back then, it seemed more possible that sword would drive through me.”
“You think that is still not your fate?” Anguhr asked.
“No. Not then, not now.” Bahl said with confidence. “What I did all those ages ago, and what I do now, is to survive and find a way to defeat Hell. In that, you and I have a common goal. Together, we are stronger. If you are a true leader, as was your father, then you will set your hatred aside. At least, for now.
“When the ending battle is done, then you can seek your retribution, son of Sargon, son of Azuhr. Before then, I will march on Hell. You will join that fight, or crush our possible alliance under your ego. Even on Hell, you have choice. So, aid the Dark Urge, or fight against her along with me.”
Not even acidic dust through their helmets caused either titan to blink for a long moment of staring.
Anguhr finally spoke. “I see Khans are clever with words. May your tactics be thus. This may be the last war. And I say that after beating Ursuhr, and Sutuhr.”
Anguhr pointed at the mace Bahl held.
“So we have a truce.” Bahl said with restraint but strength.
“Our armies do. As do we, ancient Bahl. For now. Time will see what fate unfolds between us.”
Anguhr took the sword by the grip and yanked it free. He held it for a moment before Bahl, who nodded.
“So be it,” Bahl said. “My forces will continue their march. I will send an emissary should we find a site to penetrate and attack.”
“So be it.” Anguhr repeated.
Bahl turned and walked back toward the ridge. Anguhr watched him. Secretly, he was impressed. He goaded him, hard. But emotion never overcame his focus. Bahl was obviously devoted to his mission.
Solok alit next to the much talle
r Anguhr. He also watched the departing Bahl.
“His army is shockingly large, Destroyer. As is his confidence for one who commands no demons. His forces are a mix of the defeated. Can he rely on, or even control them?”
“He exerts control through respect of his personal strength, and also his words. He is good with words.” Anguhr replied. “But I find him here, hidden. And he did betray his own supreme leader out of fear. In that, he served the Dark Urge. By that, he lost an empire.
“Our verbal skirmish was to probe what strength of his remains. I am certain he is committed to conquering Hell. But if he does fear me as he feared my mother, he will abandon it and use his army as a personal guard. Then we will also know the character of his forces. Are they fully loyal? Or will they rebel once his orders lead them away from the mission? I have either solidified their resolve, or driven a slow wedge among untrustworthy allies.”
“War with words. Is that diplomacy, Lord?”
“Of a sort. It is a necessary test. I will not suffer the fate of my father.”
“No, lord. You will not. I will kill Bahl myself, if I must.”
Anguhr looked down at his lieutenant with surprise and admiration. “Ambition, Field Master. I believe you grow each day, if not in height, certainly in other ways.”
“I can fly, Lord Destroyer. My gun and sword will reach whatever altitude they need.”
“Needs. Wants.” Octuhr thoughts came through the web as if he already had an audience before his consciousness fully arrived.
The Great Widow sighed inwardly. She braced herself for another mentor-like conversation with Octuhr. She took solace that their plans, so far, still appeared as identical strands and not ones parallel and eventually opposed.
“I needed a horde. I made one. Now, my power seems so much greater. It is what I wanted. Now what I needed sits ready. If a second want eclipses the first need, you should still use the first thing. Right, old one?”
“I believe youth is wasted on the young. Even young that are old, forgotten lumps on hellish wastes.”
“Jealousy of my age was not why you put me on those wastes, spider.” Octuhr rasped.
“No. It was what I needed to do. Now, you will follow your own, less linear logic, no matter what eclipses what.”
“Less linear. An interesting notion from a thing that weaves such chaotic lines.”
“There is never chaos in a spider web. Even those with more than one purpose, such as mine.”
“Nevertheless, it seems we are diverting from my point. That, most salient need. My protection. And conquest of Bahl. The first need is already underway. The second want will be done when I unleash the new hordes of arachnid demons—arachnidemons!”
Octuhr’s mind rippled the web with manic laughter.
“Of course,” he continued, “first I will bring my physical form to a safer location.”
“If you leave the presence of the army, we will have no spy. No means to track them.”
“Spider, could it be that you secretly want my immobile body near the violence?”
“No,” the Great Widow said. Yes, she thought.
“You can spy as you need to,” Octuhr replied. “Tap the minds of the Khans. It is easy. They are strong but not as imbued with Hell’s arcane energies as true Generals such as me, or even Anguhr. Their warrior breed is even easier to enter and control. Even the Khan Inaht who suspects me cannot stop me. Isn’t it fitting that as they walk the ultimate desert, they see a mirage?”
Inaht!
The warriors felt the poles rub and cut their shoulders even through their armor. They kept the burden of the hostage off the ground, even as their feet sank in moist sand. They followed the main army along a beach under Inaht’s watchful eyes. The ocean rolled next to them. It was becoming high tide. That was impossible. Just as impossible as trekking across Hell.
Inaht looked at the pale blue sea. She knew there was no ocean on Hell. The salty air was a relief from burning sand. For a second too long, she preferred the impossible to reality. Both were deadly. The army ahead disappeared. Now only the ocean stretched before them. There was no ocean on Hell. Only heat and endless sand. But rising waves caressed her. The water was bliss. On Hell, that feeling was more unlikely than water.
Inaht saw a dark form beneath the waves. It was a massive shark. It lifted its head above the rising water to stare, or perhaps smile at her with menace. Its eyes were red flames with irises like metal disks burning on lava. The waves became hot. They grew too high.
Inaht!
The voice sounded as if shouted from the future. It was an odd, alien voice. The monster that shouted it was familiar. But Inaht found it hard to think. Or breathe.
Aekos had tracked Inaht across a side valley after her unit that guarded the hostage-thing took a widening path from the flanking column and was lost behind a curtain of abrading dust devils. He found the still warrior queen buried within a dune. He could not see her, only smell her desiccated body. His great claws hewed away mounds of searing dust. He lifted her body from the burying sand.
The traces of footsteps from the warriors carrying the hostage were fading as dust covered them. Somehow, the dune that captured Inaht seemed to have risen and engulfed only her. Wherever the others had vanished would remain a mystery for now. Inaht still drew slight breath. The main force was leagues away. Lucky then, Aekos had to arms to carry her, and four legs to run.
“Conquest. Protection. As goals, they seem united. As acts, they seem far apart.” Octuhr mused.
The Great Widow stayed quiet.
“To conquer you must fight. Be exposed.” Octuhr continued. “To save yourself, you must be shielded from harm. Yet, if you defeat opponents, then you are stronger. So, hide and conquer. I think those were my fist thoughts, my first strategy. I could not act out and physically crush things. That made me angry.”
“You are not angry, now?” The spider asked.
“No. Well, yes. Maybe I always am. But I am glad another strategy looks so simple. Divide and conquer. Especially when the two targets stay divided. I told you Bahl and Anguhr would not ally.”
“You also said they would fight. They do not. It has been long said that no battle plan survives contact with the enemy. Two enemies on one world make that doubly so.”
“I don’t care if my battle plan or horde survives, so long as my enemy dies.” Octuhr ended with a long groan. “My ultimate goal is undisputed rule of the galaxy.”
“Omnipotence.”
“Well, yes.” Octuhr replied. “Any advanced power that can reshape creation is indistinguishable from omnipotence.”
The Great Widow felt a nervous tinge at the thought that Octuhr was indeed close to such power. “Yet, recall young Octuhr, when you used the power learned from Buran, you reached out to crush things, but were nearly consumed by the power you unleashed.”
“Yes, yes, yes. But we must do as we can at the time. And in time, I’ve grown. Have no fear. I know you dread me using my ability to manipulate Builder machines right here on Hell. The Forge is such a mechanism. Yet do not fear my mind as a vast boot against your home. Recall how once even large spiders were a thing feared and crushed. Then, you came. Gigantic. Intelligent.
“I don’t pretend to have made my arachnid demons with great minds, but they do have great ability to rend flesh. Even demon flesh. But first, they will kill the Khan army. Kill, kill, kill. So let us both rejoice in their savagery placed as a heel on the throats of our enemies.”
A vibration came through the web and Hell as a great, dark mass surged for the surface.
“You can feel it, Kodai Kumo. The great swell of venom. My horde. Let me show them all to you. All the terrifying forms based on your fearsome kind. Spiders. The demons of so many dreams, now unleashed from, yes, the pits of Hell. Fitting, right?”
Aekos ran. He cradled Inaht as carefully as he could as he made speed across the ghostland of forgotten oceans. The shaft of his spear slapped the back of his shoulders. He w
ondered if it would pain the demons to fly overhead, now, and create shade instead of merely a soaring threat. Heat made the thin atmosphere shimmer as a clear curtain marred by wisps of spiteful dust. In the distance, a narrow line appeared to waver on the horizon. It was visible as dark, moving lengths with occasional glints of red starlight reflected against armor. The army was still far away. Then he felt the rumbling, and slowed.
Hellquake? Aekos wondered.
He saw the surface, long cracked into scales from millennia of exposure. The cracks collected and lost sand over ages. What remained shook and vibrated out of the jagged fissures. A small mountain began to rise between him and the flank of Bahl’s army. They had searched for a portal to Hell, but Hell rose and burst open before them. A massive release of lava from the mount would be preferable. What erupted from Hell was Octuhr’s malignant horde.
Aekos adjusted Inaht in his reptilian-centaur arms, and ran faster toward the coming battle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Tau was aware. Almost. He knew the designation Tau was a number. He was one of many. All worked for one goal. The goal served the creator. The creator would be there, soon. The great red light was there, now, high over Tau. Tau moved across the changing framework. The red light moved much more slowly across the—the sky, the term appeared from ancillary memory files—the sky became different with its presence. Many smaller lights vanished, as if consumed by the larger one. Tau knew the red—the red sun—was energy. Energy and matter. Tau manipulated matter at the interstice where its structure merged with epi-physical energy.
All the workers like Tau possessed tarsal claws so impossibly narrow that they could manipulate the mesons within the arcane steel. There was an ebbing field from other energy. It stung the extremely specified tips of their limbs. But there were three more limbs for work as two gripped and prevented Tau and all workers from falling to the dusty ground. The work was important. The work was all. Soon the creator would take what they remade and become—Tau could find no term other than all.
Alliance Page 25