by Jack Conner
He studied her face, seeking some sign of remorse. Her face was stoic. She could have been raging on the inside, but there was no telling. Don’t play poker with Jess.
“I’m not sure what to say,” he said.
She waited.
He debated with himself, then said, “On the one hand, I want to say, ‘You did what you had to do’. And I suppose you did, and that part of me thanks you. But another part says, ‘Surely there had to be another way. How can I love a woman whose first solution is always murder?’”
She didn’t blink at his mention of love, but he thought he detected something flicker across her face. He wasn’t sure what.
“You’re not very consoling,” she said, and to his surprise her voice was dry. This amused her.
“I never will figure you out, Jess.”
“No. You never will.” She reached into a bedside drawer, produced a thin black cigar and lit it. Staring up at the whirring fan, she said, “What’s next?”
She didn’t mean for Ani, he knew. “The plan’s the same. We have the weapons. Now we launch our war against the R’loth.”
Her eyes watched the smoke be torn apart by the fan. “It won’t be that easy, you know. You saw the storm. They’re cranking up their Central Processor already, thanks to ... her.”
Us, he thought she might have meant, but wasn’t sure. “We have to strike them before they strike us.”
“We’d better get moving, then.”
“The Monastery’s agents are already at work. Some are even going with us when we set out from the harbor. They’ll help us with the weapons.”
Her eyes found his. “Do you think we’ll get to the R’loth in time?”
He made himself hold her gaze. “We have to. We have no choice.”
She tapped the cigar in an ashtray, then left the tube smoldering there. Turning to Avery abruptly, she kissed him. He kissed back, hard. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and pressed her taut body against him. He pulled her hair back. She moaned, grinding her hips against his. He grabbed her rear and squeezed her buttocks. She wrapped her legs around his waist and started ripping at the buttons that bound him.
“Oh, Jess,” he said, and cupped a breast in his hand. It was firm and hard. The nipple pressed into his fingers.
She gasped as he entered her, then slammed down on him, and again. Pinning his arms with her hands, she rode him, sliding up and down him harder and harder. He groaned and thrust into her, and she cried out.
Afterward, they lay in bed panting for a long time, listening to the gathering thunder, and after some time they tried again. Later they slept, and he dreamed of strange and terrible things reaching out to him. Reaching.
He screamed and opened his eyes.
Thunder rocked the mansion, and wind smashed violently against the windows. The door burst inward and guards flooded in. Avery sat up with a start, momentarily afraid this was a coup.
“My lord, it’s an emergency! You must come with us. We have to get you to safety.”
Sheridan had been reaching for something, but she let her hand drop.
The guards helped Avery dress and ushered him and her through the halls toward the stairs. “What’s the meaning of this?” he said. “What’s going on?”
“The sea’s gone insane, sir! It’s not safe for you on the cliffs. We need to get you to the nearest bomb shelter. This way, sir.”
They gestured him toward the stairs, but he broke away, opened a door and strode toward the nearest window, where he tore open the heavy drapes and stared out into the night.
“My gods,” he said, feeling the blood leave his face.
"Damn," said Sheridan from beside him.
The men were right. The sea had gone mad. Giant waves smashed against the shore, a barrage of lightning flaring up from every impact. Black battleships of clouds rolled in on long insect-legs of electricity. Such was the fury of the storm that the air blurred and shimmered, and in places reality itself seemed to snap and bend. It wasn’t just a storm; it was the hells unleashed.
“They’re doing it,” Avery heard himself say, as the men caught up to them and muttered in fear at the awesome sight.
Sheridan nodded. “Do you think Layanna was able to steal those psalms Uthua was looking for on her way out?”
“I … well, she did have the circlet, and the sea only started going this bad when she left, so maybe.”
“If so, they’re working. The psalms. It … won’t be long now until the Atomic World arrives.”
She reached for his hand, and he squeezed it. For a crazy moment they stood there at the window watching doom draw in, and Avery knew it was doom. It was the end of humanity, the end of the world, at least as he knew it. It was the beginning of their world, the R’loth. Stark, raving fear rose in him, turning him cold, making his breath come in short, sharp hitches. He wanted to throw up but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the insanity beyond long enough to manage it. They’ve won, he thought. The R’loth have won. We fought them well, but victory is theirs.
“No,” Avery said suddenly, making a decision, and the word came out wrenched and raw.
“No what?” Sheridan said.
“I won’t allow it.”
“You don’t mean … ?”
“That’s right, Jess. We can’t delay any longer. We’re going to war. Now. Right this minute.”
Chapter 14
“Scramble the fleet!” Avery shouted as he scurried downstairs. He tried to make his voice sound as authoritative as he could, suppressing the fear that wanted him to hide under the nearest bed and never come out. Has it really come to this? I should be home reading a book on L’ohen history, drinking a glass of Valyanken, not marshalling an army for war on the eve of the apocalypse. “Rouse every captain, every admiral, every general, every private! I want that fleet up and moving NOW!”
“But sir, you can’t mean to go out in that madness,” one soldier said as Avery reached the door.
Avery turned, and he knew from the way the guards recoiled that his expression must be fierce indeed. “This is the end,” he said, “unless we act right now. Now get those soldiers up and moving, and get that fleet ready to go before the sea destroys it.”
The men swallowed. “Yes, sir!”
Avery opened the door, braced himself, and stepped outside, Sheridan with him, though she swore under her breath as she did. Soldiers flanked them, coming from the outbuildings—just a few at first, then more and more. Soon an entire informal battalion marched around them toward the harbor, where the fleet sat at anchor. The storm raged and howled, and Avery could feel it, the shuddering of reality, the twisting and warping of this plane. How long would it be before the damage was irreversible, before this world truly became the Atomic World? He prayed it would be weeks or months but knew it was more likely a few days, at most. Please let it be days and not hours, not minutes.
“This storm will be hard on the ships,” Sheridan warned him. “And at night ...”
“It won’t be any better by dawn, Jess. I don’t think this storm is going to blow away.”
“I’m not arguing. I’m just telling you that not every ship is going to make it, and that could well include the ship you intend to go on. That is why you’re going to the docks, isn’t it?”
“I plan to see this thing through.” He didn’t slow, but he did soften his tone. “You can leave, Jess, if you want. You don’t need to come with me. What I plan to do is madness, I know that. I wish there was another way. And even if we do succeed there’s no way I can keep you out of prison. The best I can do is commute your sentence to one of life, not death. But you can get away, now. I’ll give you a ship and a crew, and you can put some distance between yourself and Ghenisa. Maybe, if the world doesn’t end …”
She hissed out a breath. “I knew this day would come. It’s why I’ve done everything I have—to prevent this. You think I’d just let it go out of my hands now, at the end? You must be joking.”
Thunder cracke
d, and bizarre shapes lit up the sky. The madness of the ocean had once again infected the skies, turning them just as strange and deadly as the water. Pale yellow lightning struck a building to Avery’s right, and the bricks seemed to turn to liquid and flow upward. Oddly, the building didn’t dissolve but continued standing, though its surface seemed to ripple and flow toward the sky. Droplets from its roof actually flew into the storm.
More and more sailors and soldiers fell into the procession, and soon they had reached the cliffs and were picking their way down the slick, wind-tossed staircases toward the docks. The ships below heaved and bucked in the swells, and lightning crackled up from the mist-wreathed water in bright displays, some of the bolts lancing the clouds overhead. None of the ships dissolved or turned into liquid, but Avery knew that extradimensional forces beyond the humans’ ability to counter had been loosed and there was no stopping them, not unless the Central Processor in Xicor’ogna could be destroyed.
Grand Admiral Jons, the same man who had promoted Sheridan to admiral in the first place, the same man who had helped coordinate the assault on the Over-City, met him on one of the central docks and escorted him to a boat, which ferried them to where the Indomitable, his flagship, was anchored. One of the docks could almost reach it, but it had been damaged in the fighting. Prime Minister Denaris, having been housed closer to the docks, had already reached the ship ahead of him, and she was swearing and popping pollution pills on the bridge when they reached it. When she offered some to Avery, he accepted gladly, then doled out a few to Sheridan. Denaris eyed her with distaste, and Avery realized that the Prime Minister hadn’t offered the disgraced admiral any of the pills.
“What is she doing here?” Denaris said. The mutated monkey Hildebrand screeched in agitation from her shoulder, seeming to echo the Prime Minister’s sentiments. Avery was strangely happy to see the little fellow.
“She’s with me, Gwen,” Avery said.
“She’s a traitor and a murderer. I didn’t want to make an issue of it before, but I will not be locked up on a ship with this bitch.”
Sheridan watched her, half with amusement, half with sadness. “Do you know how to swim?”
The Prime Minister narrowed her eyes. “Do you?”
Hildebrand shrieked what sounded like laughter.
Avery placed himself between the two women. Was Sheridan capable of getting along with any other female? Ever? “Enough,” he said.
“It’s not enough,” Denaris said. “Who do you think Ani stayed with after it happened? Who had to comfort her and listen to her crying after her whole family had been slaughtered? And who slaughtered them?”
“She did what she had to,” Avery said, feeling suddenly weary. When Jons returned, Avery was all too glad to have a distraction. “Grand Admiral, when Admiral Sheridan and I arrived on the island, we came aboard squid-ships. It’s very likely we’ll need them again if we’re to treat with the ngvandi of the Great Mound. Can you send a ship to fetch them?” Quickly he told Jons where to look, and the admiral nodded and saw to it. When Avery turned back to the two women, they were still glaring at each other, but Denaris’s fury had been spent, and she was beginning to glance, with true worry and even fear, out the windows. Hildebrand hunched low and subdued on her shoulder.
Crackling, energy-fused waves smashed against the ship, and even though it was a massive aircraft carrier, the pride of the fleet, Avery could feel the deck rock beneath his heels.
He turned to Jons. “Where are the ruby people?”
“Down below, still at work. Shall I call them?” When Avery nodded, Jons pressed a button, and almost immediately the ruby girl appeared. Ani’s crimson double had come from a connecting hall without delay, which meant that she must bunk nearby, if indeed she needed sleep. Perhaps that was just where she kept out of the way when not needed.
She, Avery thought. Why do I think of her as she?
“You desire a word?” the being said.
“You’re Ani’s mouthpiece?” Sheridan asked.
“If you like. I’m the will of the Monastery. Its consciousness, or one of them. One of the greatest. It’s me that’s directing the effort to upgrade all these ships with the weapons of war.”
“You’re not done?” Avery said. That could be a problem.
“No.” Her voice was flat and unemotional. “We are not. It will be four days before we can finish the upgrade.”
“We can’t wait here for four days,” Sheridan said.
“You’ll have to make the repairs on the way,” Avery told the ruby girl. “Can you do that away from the Monastery?”
She nodded. “Our consciousness does not fade. For many years it slept, but now it is awake, and interested in exploring the world.”
Avery paused. “You have a mental link with Ani?”
“Yes.”
“Can ...” He cleared his throat. “Can you maintain that all the way?”
“Yes.”
“She can hear me now?”
“Yes.”
Blinking, Avery returned his attention to Jons. “Then let’s get this fleet moving.”
While the admiral saw to that, Sheridan approached Avery and said, “Francis, there’s … something you should see.”
He wasn’t sure if he liked the expression on her face, but he went with her outside onto the deck, where the sea spray lashed the air and the thunder boomed constantly. Almost immediately he saw what Sheridan was talking about, and something in Avery’s heart wrenched. Janx, the grizzled whaler and pirate, was hobbling down the docks from the direction of the switchbacks leading up to the cliffs. Dear gods, thought Avery, did he walk down here? Surely not. Surely he had taken a taxi, if nothing else. Of course, Janx wasn’t really walking, not really. He swung his way forward awkwardly on one crutch, and even through the darkness and distance Avery could see blood seeping from the bandage below his knee.
“Doc!” Janx bellowed loudly. He stood on the end of the dock nearest the aircraft carrier, the one that had been damaged in the fighting, and he had to shout to be heard. Cords stood out on his throat as he spoke. “Doc, take me with you!”
Avery had been hoping that Janx couldn’t see him through the storm and night, but the big man’s eyes were keen. Guilt ripped at Avery, but also resolve.
With a sigh, he approached the gunwale. Avery could see the pain in Janx’s face, and the need. Janx had come so far to see the R’loth destroyed, and he’d lost so much. He wanted to be there when it was all concluded, one way or another.
Smiling weakly, Avery raised a hand, partly in affection, partly in farewell. He hoped Janx could see the love in his face, and the gratitude.
“Janx!” he called over the wind and storm. “Stay here and look after Ani for me!”
“But Doc—!”
The ship’s bell rang mournfully, and the aircraft carrier began moving off, away from land. Away from Janx.
“Doc!” Janx cried, and Avery was horrified to see that the whaler was almost crying. Seeing that, Avery felt his own eyes burn. “Doc, take me with you, gods damn you to hell! You can’t do this to me! Take me with you, damn you!”
Avery leaned against the gunwale for support with his free hand. Dimly he could feel Sheridan’s hand on his shoulder, giving him strength. Janx was already a diminishing form on the docks.
“Look after Ani for me!” Avery called again. “And get that wound looked at, you fool! You may have split the sutures!”
“Doc, damn you, let me come with you! Turn that tub around and …” Janx shouted on, but his words were drowned out by the storm, and darkness was swallowing him. Avery continued facing him with his hand up until the night had completely taken him, and only then did he turn away.
* * *
The seas only grew more savage as the fleet set out, and furious detonations and unnatural phenomena occurred all around them for the duration of the day, then the next, and the next. The Atomic Sea raged, and the skies boiled, and the whole world heaved in a dark grip. Th
e R’loth were winning. The world was becoming theirs at last.
Avery spent most of the time on the bridge or up in the crow’s nest, watching the ocean blast and pound in every direction, stitching the sky in strange fire. Often he thought of Janx, on the pain in the big man’s face, but just as often he thought of Ani, or Layanna. The strange fire sank a boat the second day, and terrible insect creatures, long and flat, with countless squirming legs—the creatures must have been over five hundred feet long, and there were seven of them—demolished a pair of ships, and a third vanished in a ripple of air. On the fourth day, an unnatural plague swallowed several vessels, and they had to be scuttled. On that day the ruby people finished their work, and the ships of the combined fleets were ready to combat the R’loth.
The sea fought them, dragging and lashing at them, and it took longer to reach the site over Xicor’ogna than Avery had expected, but at last it neared. The lightning here was so dense the horizon was bathed in blue-white light, and when the ships drew closer the quasi-electric discharge was enough to throw them back.
They could not go forward. The Central Processor had grown too powerful.
* * *
“Do you think it’s reached peak performance?” Sheridan said, staring through her binoculars. Together she and Avery occupied the crow’s nest, and shadows draped them. They were lit only by the lightning.
“It hasn’t,” Avery said. “But it will soon. I just received word from the analysts before I came up, in fact.” The truth was that he’d been trying to summon the guts to tell her; somehow giving voice to it made it all more real, as if he could wish it away by not recognizing it, not acknowledging it.
Her voice was tight. “Oh?”
He frowned, then delivered the dire news. “The Central Processor must reach what they’re calling critical mass before there’s no going back. Once it hits that point it won’t matter if we’re able to destroy it. The Atomic World will be irreversible. We have to destroy the Processor before it reaches that horizon or all is lost.”