Path of Ruin

by Tim Paulson

  “Get to the point please.”

  “Ah, yes... This... new engine is based on a design from a relief recovered from ruins in the jungles of Endelia, ruins you directed us to if I remember correctly. From the relief we learned why our attempts to use more crystals to get more power had been failing. The relief taught us that their orientation matters, there is a particular pattern required. This is what you see before you. If it works as we expect, we will have created a hole in the veil so large, it will not be able to close.”

  “Limitless power,” Buckley said with a smile.

  “Precisely!” the doctor said. “Shall we begin?”

  “Yes,” Buckley said, pulling the veil goggles down over his eyes.

  The green veil goggles revealed a beam of focused light being sent into the center of the array where a gantry of metal grating had been built next to the usual conveyor belt of veil containers, each lined with smaller crystals and veil plates, ready to receive the flood of energy.

  The doctor pointed to an assistant who pulled a long handled lever. Gears began to turn in the structure. A group of great metal arms moved in concert, each aligning a crystal with the light beam which bounced around in hundreds of directions, creating an incredible web of lines that seemed to bend of their own volition before spiraling together into a set of points at the center of the great machine. A bright white point popped into existence with a sizzling sound like a steak on a hot iron pan and it began to grow. Veil energy could be seen oozing out of the aperture and into the room where it was whisked aside into the rows of capture containers and plates.

  “We have nominal veil engine function. Now it's time to take it further,” the doctor yelled over the sizzling of the machine. He nodded to his assistant who pulled a second lever. Four more lenses turned to focus upon the center point. The sound of the engine intensified, moving to a higher frequency and pitch.

  “This is where we would always fail before,” the doctor said as he pulled a third lever. Scores of other lenses began dropping into place in series, one after the other. The sizzling grew higher and higher until it became a high pitched buzzing noise. There was a great crack that shook the entire facility as the white point of light grew outward into a circle. The circle expanded into a large opening with an irregular edge. The high pitched whine died away as thick streams of veil energy began to pour into the chamber. It was filling the veil containers with power more quickly than they were moving into range on the conveyor.

  “Increase the speed on the conveyor!” the doctor said.

  Buckley couldn't see anyone in the control room doing anything in response. What were they waiting for? The slack jawed fools seemed paralyzed.

  “I said increase the conveyor!” yelled the doctor, he leaned forward and slapped a golden gloved hand against the glass that separated the control room from the main floor. He was trying to get the attention of a young man out on the floor.

  The man stood by a station near the bottom of the conveyor that controlled its speed but he too stood, arms at his sides, like he'd been struck deaf and dumb with awe.

  The doctor made a move toward the door of the room, ostensibly to take over the conveyor station, but it was already too late. Several large veil demons were already floating freely around the chamber. One of them noticed a technician stationed to the left of the focusing array and buried itself in his body. The man began screaming.

  The other technicians in the room began to run but they were too slow to escape the torrents of swirling energy. Floating veil demons, many of them extraordinarily large, sought the fleeing humans out and entered their bodies. Scores of men and women dropped to the floor writhing and screaming.

  “Doctor, the secondary conveyor control!” said a young woman in technician's garb as she pushed a metal lever forward.

  “Excellent, Lexa. Yes, it's working faster now. It's starting to catch them all. There's so much, I would never have though we'd need to run the conveyor this fast. It's wonderful!” the doctor said. “The engine is generating power at twenty times the level we expected!”

  “Get a containment team in here,” ordered Buckley. It was easier to dispose of the possessed before they finished the transformation in to horrors.

  The doctor nodded, flustered, flipping open a large brass tube to his left.

  “Containment requested in bay thirteen of the engine testing facility. Immediately!” the doctor said.

  “Acknowledged,” came a voice from the tube.

  The first infected technician was now a steaming mass of flesh, rising into the air. His torn clothing and skin formed a blood stained pile on the floor below.

  “It's astonishing how fast the transformation is progressing!” the doctor said.

  “Indeed, It seems the demons are larger as well. I've never seen them this big.” said Buckley. “I assume the size of the engine's opening is the cause.”

  “Mmmm, yes I believe you may be correct!” the doctor said. “Quite fascinating. I wonder how large they can become?”

  In through the steel doors ran seven company soldiers. Each wore a thick coat with the red sash and epaulets of a containment team. They brandished long glowing veil infused halberds which they used to impale and chop up the budding horrors. These would never complete their transformations.

  “I want the containment team kept here while we move to phase two,” Buckley said.

  “Are you sure? We don't know what will happen,” the doctor said, pushing large spectacles up his nose. “We've never gotten this far.”

  “Precisely my point.”

  “As you wish,” the doctor said. He thumbed open a second copper tube marked “Main floor” and spoke into it. “Containment team. Once those are dispatched please move them aside and take stations near the door while we move to stage two,” The doctor paused, staring at the glowing center of the machine. Then he leaned forward and spoke again into the tube. “Prepare for stage two.”

  There was a short delay and two gold and leather suited technicians entered carrying a small metal cage. Inside could be seen a rabbit. They approached the circular opening that yawned at the center of the veil engine and moved up the gantry.

  “How exciting! How momentous! All we've ever seen is what comes out of the veil engines,” the doctor said. “This is the first time we'll see if things can be sent in! Truly historic!”

  The rabbit cage was placed on a metal frame at the top of the gantry. Both of the technicians turned, waiting for orders.

  “You may proceed,” the doctor said into the brass tubing as he fussed with his spectacles, trying to clean them with what appeared to be an oily gray rag.

  One of the technicians performed a final check on the rabbit while the other extended a hand crank. When the rabbit had been verified to still be alive and unharmed, there was a nod and the cranking began.

  An arm extended from the platform taking the rabbit cage and the rabbit with it. As the assembly began to approach the white glowing opening the rabbit started to shake and jump around, banging its body against the metal bars of the cage repeatedly. The animal's movements became more and more frenetic until the cage touched the edge of the opening and it slipped inside as a rock might enter a limpid pool. Despite the bright nature of the opening, nothing could be observed through it. The metal arm appeared to end at the membrane.

  “Now draw it out please,” said the doctor through the brass tube, his voice echoing in the chamber.

  The cranking began again but in the other direction. When the cage emerged several technicians gasped.

  The metal container was completely intact save that it was empty. There was no blood. No fur.

  The rabbit was just gone.

  Chapter 10

  "See those birds up there, lad? The birds follow the fish. The Captain''ll keep us at full sail or we'll be caught between the stars and the lights."

  -Helmsman to his young navigator in Stars of the North Sea, page seventy six, paragraph two, 1614

 
The sweeping sound of leaves being brushed from the trees by the autumn winds was often said to be calming. Mia wanted very much to feel that peace but found she could not. Her thoughts were consumed by the boy, by the crushing need to preserve his safety. It was exhausting.

  This pervasive sense of disquiet was not helped by the whiff she caught of the blacksmith's stew. She'd watched him mix barley with dried mushrooms, a few chopped white Kerits and venison. The blacksmith lacked salt however. As filling as the meal might be, it would surely taste like paste.

  Would the boy eat it? With so much blood drained from such a small body he would have to replenish himself or waste away. Hopefully he would awake hungry enough to eat his father's creation but she doubted it.

  “Ugh,” she said from her bedroll. “Is hunter's stew all you know how to make?”

  “Be my guest if you can make something better,” the smith said, gesturing toward the pot.

  “I don't cook,” she said as she extracted herself from the woolen blanket and pulled on her boots.

  “Oh good, you're both awake.” The doll had waddled up from the other side of the fire. The morning sun dappled by the trees cast dark spots upon the yellow yarn hair like a tiger cat.

  Mia continued to don the rest of her equipment while the smith stirred his stew but said nothing.

  “Come now, don't be pouting like a child, blacksmith. It's a lovely autumn morning. As a gift to you, I have decided to tell you where we're going.” The doll paused theatrically, clasping woven hands behind its back. “In order to foster good will amongst us.”

  “You mean so I don't toss you in the fire when your back is turned,” Henri said.

  “Nonsense,” said the doll with a furtive glance toward the fire which was currently licking voraciously at the bottom of the iron cook pot.

  “I believe we've gotten off on the wrong foot blacksmith. I've been given a job to do and it involves keeping your son out of danger while we get where we're going. I know you also want him safe. I'm sure it's intimidating that I'm thousands of years older and wiser than you and leagues more intelligent with a depth of knowledge you couldn't begin to fathom, but you need to understand: I'm really not such a bad guy,” the doll said, waving one of its arms for emphasis.

  Mia watched little Adem stir in his bed, notice what was going on and begin to creep up behind the talking doll as it expounded on its superior intellect.

  “Augh!” the doll shrieked as Adem lifted it bodily from the ground with two chubby hands.

  “Is this mine?” Adem asked.

  “Yes Adem. All yours,” Henri said with a grin. “Squeeze him all you like!”

  “What? No!” cried the doll. “Put me down!” He groaned as Adem gave him a crushing squeeze.

  The boy did not do as asked. Instead he took the writhing toy by its arms and spun it in a circle, twirling the both of them around and around together.

  “I think I'm going to be sick!” said the doll.

  Henri guffawed.

  Wriggling loose the doll dropped to the ground and took off running as fast as his stubby legs could manage. However Adem jumped up in pursuit. Only seconds elapsed before the doll was outmaneuvered and pinned to the dirt under the little boy's knees.

  “Adem, you should have some breakfast,” Henri said.

  “Yes! Breakfast!” cried the squirming doll.

  “I... uh,” said Adem. He paused to cough a fine spray of red droplets on to the stones outlining the cook fire. “...don't feel good,” Adem finished.

  “He must be drained!” said the doll from its place on the ground.

  Henri grimaced. “He can't eat first?”

  “No! He won't be able to. He'll just vomit,” said the doll, as if it were something everyone ought to know.

  Adem looked over at his father, suspicious. “What does he mean daddy?”

  “I have to give you a tiny pin poke, like a bug bite, to let the poison out so you feel better,” Henri said.

  Mia wondered if the boy remembered the bloody debacle of the previous day. Perhaps he'd thought it a dream. Whatever his feelings, it was imperative the poison be removed as quickly as possible.

  She pulled out one of her pin daggers, meant for darting into the vulnerable areas of an unwary enemy and held the blade into the flames of the fire.

  Adem's eyes watched it, widening.

  “No! I don't want that!” Adem said with as much stern determination as a five year old could muster.

  “I'm sorry. It must be done. You'll just get sicker and sicker,” Henri said.

  “I don't care!” Adem's brows knitted furiously in a child's exaggerated attempt to show how adamantly his mind was made up.

  Henri stood up, accepting the dagger from Mia and took a step toward his son. ”I promise it'll be over before you even know it.”

  “No!” Adem said, balling his fists. The leaves around him spun in a wild circle.

  “Listen to reason boy. You'll die if you don't,” said the doll from under his knees.

  “Be quiet doll!” Adem said, pointing a stubby finger at its head for emphasis.

  “I'm sorry Adem,” Henri said as he reached for his boy.

  Adem started to get up, presumably to run, but his woozy head betrayed him and he fell back down to his knees. His hands pressed into the dirt on either side of the doll's head.

  Henri used the opportunity to snatch his son's upper arm with one hand while he brought the dagger to bear with the other. Before he could bring the knife down, Adem's body bucked, causing Henri to miss.

  “Daddy no!” Adem cried angrily, fighting with all his might. He kicked his legs and thrashed his one free arm. Mia could see Henri's nerve faltering. She felt pity for him.

  Then the thrashing slowed.

  “Woooooo!” wailed the doll as it danced in a crazy circle shaking its arms and spinning around. “Look at meeeee!” he cried as he swirled his golden yarn hair. “I'm a craaazy dancing doll!”

  Miraculously, Adem laughed.

  Mia didn't have to tell him, Henri smartly seized the moment and gave Adem's arm the tiniest poke he could. Blood began to pour from the wound just as before, like a great gash had been made in the flesh.

  “Ow!” said Adem. He tried to jerk his arm away but then the doll jumped up and landed on its backside and the boy laughed again.

  His laugh was so beautiful, so full of carefree joy. Though she'd never care much for children, Mia couldn't help but love Adem's laugh.

  “The weapons!” reminded the Doll as its arms and legs flailed on the ground in an exaggerated impersonation of a turtle stuck on its back.

  Mia was already ahead of him. She placed all three veil weapons behind Adem.

  “Oh, I have an idea!” said the doll as it jumped up. “Why waste all this lovely power? Watch this Adem!”

  He drew in the air with his yarn arms. With a yellow flash and a hiss of steam all the dirt and grime poofed free of the doll's body. What had been mud soiled yarn hair was now gleaming gold.

  Adem giggled. “More!”

  The doll then waved his arms in a big circle, made some smaller motions and pointed directly at Mia. Suddenly the leg wound she'd cauterized began burning again... and then it stopped. She looked down to see that beyond the ragged hole torn in her leggings, was only smooth perfect flesh. She'd been completely healed!

  “Oh!” Mia exclaimed, at a loss.

  “Again!” Adem cried.

  The doll nodded as a grin graced its animated face. “Behold my boy, your father's noxious smelling stew!” He pointed toward the bubbling cook pot and began moving his arms again.

  Though Mia could see nothing of what he was doing, this time it took far longer to accomplish. Clearly whatever was happening to the stew was a work of significant complexity.

  “Woooooow,” said Adem.

  Mia wondered if perhaps the boy could see something more of what was being done. The way he watched it seemed so.

  “You leave my stew out of this! It didn't do
anything to you!” Henri said but only halfheartedly. The doll's antics had helped keep Adem calm. The child had completely forgotten his injury and the blood had already stopped its prodigious flow. If it was anything like the night before, the wound would be invisible in moments.

  Then there was a great flash of light that made Mia blink. When her eyes opened and refocused again she saw the blacksmith's stew floating through the air! The liquid had formed into a ball, still bubbling and spouting steam, but no longer in the pot. The sphere of stew maneuvered toward a flat rock that Mia had earlier been using as a knife sharpening seat and it was changing somehow.

  “What's happening!?” said Adem, still held by his father, but no longer paying attention to anything but the stew which came to a stop directly over the flat rock.

  “One, two... Three!” called the doll as it twirled its hands. The soup spun in a circle and with a puff of white steam transformed into an extravagantly decorated double layer cake.

  “Hooray!” Adem shouted, raising both arms in a gesture of victory.

  “Hooray,” Mia said.

  “Great,” Henri said as he wiped the last of the blood from his son's arm with a scrap of cloth and released him.

  Adem scrambled to his feet giving only a passing glance to his wounded arm before looking hungrily at the cake. The boy did remember his manners though. He turned to his father.

  “May I have cake?”

  Henri nodded. “Let me cut you a piece,” he said stepping over to the rock.

  The newly made confection was unlike anything Mia had ever seen. Years ago when she'd lived in many different cities she'd occasionally stopped at bakeries and bought slices of layered sponge cakes, just to try them. None had been so perfectly smooth as the sugary construction before her. Were it not for the colored sugar flowers strung along the edges she might have thought it a marble sculpture.

  Henri handed the pin dagger back to Mia and pulled a chopping knife from a sheath on the back of his belt.