Wolves of the Tesseract Collection

by Christopher D Schmitz

  Time played crucial into their plans. The returning group from Earth walked into the keep and didn’t spare a second.

  "Any news on your end?" Zabe looked at Respan, hoping for some kind of breakthrough.

  The scientist shook his head sadly.

  Zabe nodded grimly and moved on. “We fought a big tarkhūn in the museum—someone by the name of Skrom,” he stated plainly. “Either Basilisk is a liar and playing us, or he’s had another defector.”

  Tay-lore piped up. “It is entirely possible that, if Basilisk is telling the truth and the Black and Tarkhūn have allied and are pursuing peace, mixed factions have splintered and could be collecting the darquematter pieces for their own ends.”

  Tightlipped, Zabe signaled his agreement. That made sense. He wasn’t entirely positive who was behind it yet, but he had his suspicions, especially after learning that the Heptobscurantum was involved and that their arcane science department provided assistance. “If Basilisk isn’t directly involved, his earlier mission to establish peace—and give us a sign our current problems aren’t of his design—make it likely he knows about it, at the very least.”

  Zabe continued, “Regardless, I’m certain Skrom identified me. It’s a sure bet they know we’re onto them.” He turned to Claire. “Your father has a hunch.”

  "I believe I saw Vivian, Caivev, on the other side of the energy gate," he said. "It was right as I was being shot with a stun blaster, though. I know that can have an impact on sensory perception, but I am confident I saw her—she looked the same as when she kidnapped me three years ago." He paused. "We've got to hurry and act. They're going to kill Shandra if we don't rescue her right away."

  Sam looked at Tay-lore. "Where do we go next? You speculated that the Seven Brothers of the Winnowing had to be awakened in a certain order. Where is the next location?"

  “Yes. I did say that. The Sh’logathian heralds, according to the legend I read, needed to be awakened from youngest to eldest and is rooted in an ancient folktale that may predate our own existence.” He paused and realized it was not the time for a historical tangent. “Anyway. The next brothers in the birth order are twins. It is impossible for me to tell you what or how that works.” He successfully imitated a sorrowful tone.

  “Then we have only a fifty-fifty chance of rescuing her?”

  Claire stood. All eyes focused on her. “No. We will take the fight to the enemy,” she stated. “We know of two locations. We send two teams, and this time I’m coming.” She said it with enough force that when she looked around the room none dared disagree with her—except for Zabe’s eyes: they pleaded her not to risk herself. “I’ve been training under Pollando, the monk who trained Bithia,” she said. “I may not yet have her skill or strength, but I’m getting better. Pollando says I’ve got a raw, natural talent.”

  Jenner piped up, “But isn’t Pollando mute?” everyone looked at the teen and he shrank back sheepishly as he realized that a psychic priest didn’t need a voice to communicate.

  “We don’t always need mouths and ears to say what we need. In fact, we rarely say the things we most mean to speak with our words.” She looked at Zabe when she talked.

  Zabe slowly nodded his understanding and smiled lopsidedly, replying to her unspoken proclamation of affection.

  Tay-lore didn’t understand any of that. “You need not go if I make more of the darquematter trackers, though, right? I could make them right away.”

  She shook her head. “I’m going. I need to go. Plus, I’m confident that I could locate Akko Soggathoth if I was in the same dimension. According to what we’ve learned from ancient vyrm lore, these heralds cannot touch darquematter. Trenzlr and the Veritas believe that touching him with it will dispel him—banishing him back to the fractured dimension of the Darque.” She playfully toyed with the dimensional inversion pendant that hung from her necklace. “Any hierophanticese should also work. If you get a chance to force contact with them, do it. It might be the only way to end this madness.”

  She looked around the room of committed soldiers, researchers, and family, and saw the dedication on their faces. They each silently signaled their assent and desire to act from a more offensive stance. “Good. Now let’s stop this monster—whoever is controlling it—and save Shandra.”

  ***

  Cerci Heiderscheidt knocked on the door to Dr. Pietro Walther's private sanctum within the uppermost, utilitarian floors they’d leased in the Highlight Towers overlooking Munich. They'd gutted the thirty-second and converted it to a workspace while keeping the topmost suites for living space.

  Walther’s door slid open to reveal the bored pioneer of pseudosciences. Pro wrestling memorabilia adorned his walls indicating the scientist’s guilty pleasure. A pile of gold bricks and precious gems lay heaped in the corner. The scientists lacked nothing financially, but much of their freedom to experiment and pursue their research fell aside as they answered the beckon call of their benefactors.

  “Yes, Miss Heiderscheidt?”

  She waggled a cell phone with a text indicator. “A new transport request.”

  Walther mumbled something about snapping the energy gate shut on the lot of their demanding allies and simply being done with the whole bunch. Regardless, he performed dutifully.

  Caivev stepped through the portal a few minutes later. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, eying a second, newly built version of their portal creation device. She knew they’d needed a backup unit to continue their tests since each failed attempt to reach beyond the thirty-three realms of the Tesseract often resulted in burned out parts and the Black could not suffer a breakdown in their transit system.

  Walther bobbed his head to greet her and assumed the reason for her visit. “It’s not ready yet. I’m sure I’ll manage to break the barriers soon, but we still can’t seem able to pierce the veil and into the Darque.”

  Caivev nodded. “Very good, but that’s not the reason for my visit.”

  Both scientists raised an eyebrow.

  "I need your help staging a diversion. We have a large scale operation coming up soon and will need everyone's participation." Her cell phone chirped.

  “We’re hardly freedom fighters,” Heiderscheidt reminded her. “Our idealism ends with our paychecks.”

  Caivev looked into her eyes and winked. She recognized the bored, glazed over look of a predator in captivity. “I’m not offering idealism or principles or any kind of purpose,” she said. “I’m offering adventure and excitement. Something new that’s never been done.”

  She had Heiderscheidt’s attention and knew that the old man craved similar things but didn’t yet know it.

  The traitor to the Prime walked over to a communications array and dialed in some information, but she waited to push the call switch. “I think your good friend would invite you to participate.” Caivev pressed the connect button and Jacob Sisyphus’s face filled the flat panel display.

  Walther crowded into the camera’s range and waved to the former entertainment athlete.

  “Oh, Caivev,” Sisyphus said with the invitational, lecherous tone he always used when talking to her. “Glad to see you’re with friends.”

  “You have something of interest to tell me?”

  "Just that the Heptobscurantum is nearly rebuilt to its former glory—yet commands more power an influence than ever before. And you certainly held up your end of the deal." Sisyphus held up the pommel of the ancient blade he'd acquired in Egypt via her information. "If our last encounter occurred again, if I got another chance to fight Nitthogr, I'm certain that this time I would emerge victorious—by leaps and bounds." He leaned towards the camera and grinned so wide it dripped with hubris.

  Walther merely hovered in the background, smiling like an excited fanboy. But the wrestler’s threats were real this time, not a string of singlet-wearing banter meant to ham for a camera.

  “And how can you help? What are you offering?”

  “An invitati
on to use us as the need arises. We don’t want to be left out when Sh’logath comes into glory.” He winked at her, masking their true goals with the gesture; Sisyphus knew that Walther and his team didn’t understand the ultimate result of the Awakening. “I know we helped you with the whole Wainsmith thing; we’re ready for a bigger role.”

  Caivev tapped her pursed lips thoughtfully. “I may have something for you. We will discuss it later—I need you in Central America. Plan for an extended stay—you still speak some Spanish?”

  “Si lo hablo pasablemente.”

  She nodded and then turned to gesture towards the scientist. “The Doc’s on the fence. Tell him why he should help us with our cause.”

  Walther took two steps forward. “I’d like a convincing reason to continue helping. I have more money than I could ever need. It’s not about riches anymore.”

  Sisyphus watched his super-fan through the camera for a moment and then leaned closer yet. He knew exactly what buttons to push. The wrestler smiled and put a little gravel into his voice to imitate the carefully honed persona he’d performed for so many years and which the scientist had religiously followed. “Look at Caivev, Doc. You see her? Just like you believe in me, I follow her. If she needed it, I’d bleed for her.” He glared down at Walther, waiting for a reaction. “Is that a good enough reason?”

  Walther swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “I’ll do what she asks.”

  Caivev smiled knowingly and her phone went off. She answered it to a familiar voice.

  “It’s me. I have something important to tell you—information you will want.”

  “How are you even calling me? You’re supposed to be in the Desolation,” she kept her voice low.

  "I'm done playing games from Limbus; I fancied a visit to Earth. I'll text you with a time."

  “A time for what?”

  “For your diversion,” the vyrm voice stated plainly.

  ***

  Using a gnarled and blackened stick, Akko Soggathoth unclasped the lock that sealed the precious tome. He used it to unfurl the cover and flip the reams of blank pages until he came to his next eldest brother, Akko Nuggezeth. Using the end of his rod, a piece of white oak burned to charcoal, he drew an X through the name.

  In his human form, the disguised animal paced back and forth as a nervous energy permeated the atmosphere. Mystic power seemed to vibrate the air on a molecular level.

  The disguised man leaned over the book and whispered his brother’s name aloud. Silvery ink, the lifeblood of Akko Nuggezeth, seemed to evaporate into the air and rematerialize as a black mass even darker than the deep shadows stretching through the room. His sigil—a mark of binding—remained etched on the parchment.

  “You are a liar, brother! I gained no energy trapped in your book.”

  Akko Soggathoth laughed mischievously. “I know—but I did not need you meddling in the plan until now.”

  “You were always a trickster… I hunger for a body! An avatar.”

  “I will provide you with one and I will even let you stay out where you can regenerate your mystic powers, brother, but you must first promise to behave.”

  The writhing darkness pulsed with malfeasant hatred at a command from the younger brother.

  Akko Soggathoth chided him. “I have bound you to the pages and until I release the mark your fealty is to me.”

  “I know how it works,” he snapped. Despite Akko Nuggezeth’s incorporeal form, resentment came through loud and clear.

  “Excellent,” Akko Soggathoth hissed as he donned his oven mitts. “I have a task for you.” Very carefully he tore the spine of his eldritch book; the binding, made of some unknown kind of skin, tore as if it remained alive.

  He offered a broken half of the codex to the ethereal Akko Nuggezeth.

  “Perhaps we should find you a suitable body, first.”

  ***

  A three dimensional model of planet Earth rotated in Tay-lore’s laboratory. Several colored indicators hung off the spherical hologram like digital tabs labeling possible locations of sites where enemy cultists could be delving into the Darque.

  Zabe and his team watched the android from nearby as they drew up tactical plans. He and Harken had split up a collection in order to lead successful assaults composed on different fronts. They would be ready to move out as soon as they knew their headings.

  Claire entered the room. She walked over and put a hand on Tay-lore’s shoulder.

  Zabe’s heart hung heavy to see her in his younger brother’s armor again. He approved of her wearing it, but he wished that circumstances hadn’t required her to don it.

  “Do you have something for us yet?” Claire asked.

  “That gold I asked you for a while ago—I used it to pay a man. He is something of an information broker by the name of Vikrum Whiltshire.”

  “Vikrum Whiltshire?” Sam scoffed nearby. “He’s a crackpot: a self-proclaimed occult investigator. He’s tried to sell the museum odd things over the years… of course, he’s tried to buy things, too.”

  Claire gave her father a stern look. “Things like scepters that can open dimensional portals or protect princesses from warlocks?”

  Sam closed his mouth and shrugged. He knew he’d stepped in too deep. Maybe Whiltshire was onto something after all.

  “I had him digitize all the data he’d collected from a paranormal incident,” Tay-lore continued. “He found a trove of information at the original site where I believe Akko Soggathoth was released. A group of cultists had gathered a large body of arcane writings—some of them even vyrmic in nature.” He indicated the labels on the globe. “These are all places mentioned throughout their collective lore.”

  “There are dozens of markers,” she said. “How will we know which locations are the right ones?”

  He keyed in a few commands and overlaid his sensory research to show the places with the greatest concentration of eldritch energies. Most of them had some kind of reading as indicated by what looked like a weather map overlay—a kind of holographic, colored haze.

  “This is energy leaking into our dimension through micro-fissures. Every plane has them. We only recently discovered where they come from: the Darque. And only Earth has them—as if it were somehow connected in some inexplicable way.”

  Zabe walked closer. “So how do we extrapolate which of these locations are darquegates?”

  Tay-lore punched in more commands. “I’m removing the weakest readings and the strongest signal here,” he tapped a dark zone on the edge of Russia, “which is likely the final brother. That way we can find the remaining two locations of the brothers.”

  “Two,” Zabe corrected. “There should be two more brothers after these two.”

  “Akko Sxkakzacros devoured the youngest of the litter, Akko Quarnyk, when they were still young. He is literally the ‘two-in-one.’”

  Zabe muttered some curses about losing more ground in the battle and never even knowing it.

  “More information we can thank Vikrum Whiltshire for,” Tay-lore said. “The lore is really quite fascinating.”

  Sam, more impatient than ever before, blurted out, “But there’re still like sixteen of these godforsaken possible locations!”

  “These thirteen readings contain nearly identical amounts of energy, according to my readings. Any could potentially be the location.”

  Zabe rubbed his chin. “You said weeks ago that these readings were a kind of energy signature and you could see what they looked like because they represented as a kind of pattern, right?”

  “Correct—they are quantitatively numerical, but can also display as a pattern—music is also like that.”

  “Perfect,” Zabe said optimistically. “Can you display one for us?”

  The display panel on the nearby wall lit up with a spiky pattern that looked like a digitally recorded audio signal.

  “Were these twins identical or fraternal… did any of Whiltshire’s
readings say anything about it?”

  “They were identical!” The android ran a quick scan and all of the patterns cycled through the display screen until two identical ones remained. Only two locations lit up on the holographic map: one blinked at the bottom of the globe and the other pulsed in Mexico. “I believe that we have our locations.”

  ***

  Jenner walked through the corridor and playfully hip-checked Gita as they moved through the elevated walkways. She caromed off, overreacting for the sake of pleasing his ego, but kept careful not to loosen the grip on her weapon. They were on their way towards a supply cache for the journey to one of the coldest locations on Earth. They still needed to join the others to be outfitted for the extreme climate.

  Gita glanced back at him. He was a couple years younger than she was but still more than a head taller than her. He'd turned his back to watch something happening outside, but she grinned at him regardless to let him know she wouldn't find his advances altogether unwelcome.

  Jenner’s body tensed and he recoiled from the trellised window arches as he snapped his disruptor rifle into a ready position. The eruptions from his weapon split the air as he opened fire. “The alarm!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Gita, sound the alarm!”

  She rushed to the edge, weapon ready, and saw what he’d spotted. A giant flaming triangle had split the sky open above the central courtyard. Hundreds of vyrm soldiers poured through the opening, repelling on loose cords anchored somewhere beyond the gate. Others sped through the air on a zip line connected to a nearby rooftop.

  Jenner’s pulse blasts found their marks as he growled with rage for the burning geometric portal. Dead bodies of his targets plummeted to the ground as they fell from the heights.

  Gita snapped off a few shots, joining his fire with hers, but they were too many. A second portal opened on the ground of the main yard. It started small and then suddenly yawned open as more vyrm rushed through with reckless abandon. She turned and poured deadly energy into the opening, but the troops ignored the dangers and stepped over their own wounded.