The Silver Sphere (9 page)

"Sounds good. I'm getting cold," Shelby admitted.

"Well, friends," Presage said, "please make yourselves
comfortable around the campfire. I must attend to something. If there is anything
that you desire, Cumber and Sol are more than willing to oblige. I shall return
shortly." He walked off with the man who appeared to be a doctor.

Cumber explained, "He's Healer Beekman. Someone is a bit
ill, so Presage will help old Beekman out."

Barrick waved and offered a kind smile. "Sculptor and I
are off for a little while to freshen up. Don't worry, we'll be back to check on
you soon."

Mr. Dempsey joined the circle, sat down, and pressed his hands
up to the flames.

Shelby eyed a handgun Cumber had in his holster. "What shoots
out of it? Bullets?"

Cumber pulled out the gun. "What? Boo-letts? This is a hand-cannon.
It fires a concentrated form of air and molecules taken from the atmosphere, though
most of the power comes from the person operating it. Each person shoots at different
levels. Not many have the ability. Only the registered owner can fire the hand-cannon,
as it's linked to their handprints. Mine can knock you back twenty feet on medium,
and flatten you for days on high... if you aren't wearing armor."

Admiring the weapon, Stuart said, "Cool."

Mr. Dempsey said, "So how did everyone else arrive here?
Shelby and I entered the portal from the library where I work."

"In my school computer room, doing some homework before
practice," said Max.

Emily said, "On my laptop at the local park, across the
street from my house."

Riley raised her head. "At my neighbor's place, feeding
their dogs."

Mr. Dempsey gave Stuart a questioning stare when he didn't say
anything.

"In my father's office playing a video game on his computer,"
Stuart muttered, though grudgingly, as if it pained him to talk.

Collectively, they sought Mr. Dempsey for guidance. As the lone
human adult, he seemed the only person they could turn to. Shelby felt the same
way as the others, but knew better. Mr. Dempsey comprehended about as much or as
little as the rest of them.

Riley asked the question they were all wondering. "What
do we do now, Mr. Dempsey?"

"This is extraordinary. It opens up a remarkable number
of possibilities concerning the mysteries of the universe. As far as our next actions,
I believe we simply have to do what's right."

Presage returned with a pair of soldiers. Cumber rushed over
with two cups and a kettle. "Casselton, Borgy, come and sip some hot tea. Is
the sixth Kin with you?"

Both lumbered forward, exhausted, their armor covered in mud.
Casselton stared at the ground, long strands of wooly black and white hair and beard
masking most of his face. Vilaborg carried a tense expression, his mahogany hair
plastered backward from the temples.

"Unfortunately, they do not have the final Kin," said
Presage in a low tone.

Vilaborg looked sheepish. "The readings on the portal say
he came through. We searched and then a horde of Bogmen showed. We needed to retreat,
but we must go out and find him with reinforcements." Dread was heavy in his
voice.

Sol said, "Wasn't that Kin supposed to materialize near
the Cark Woods?"

"Aye, we were in the Cark." Casselton's eyes fixed
on the ground.

"I already sent out reconnoiters to scour the Cark,"
Presage said. "I pray he finds his way to safe hands."

Shelby watched Presage as he walked off. She absorbed his fear
and insecurity as he stared out into the darkness with a troubled look.

Zach thought about the magnificent creatures that set him on
his course. Wondering if he was dreaming no longer came to mind; the world as he
knew it had been left behind.

He followed the river, searching for a boat and a man named Throg.
As he walked, he considered a few different things to explain his sudden arrival.
Had he stumbled into a time machine or teleportation device in his backyard? Not
likely, but then again, neither was a world with singing eyes and fresh brown roses.

The forest seemed normal now, and he longed for the earlier colorful
environment. The grassy patches were green instead of light blue. Trees were typical
heights, and the bushes were no longer purple. This place
looked
like Earth,
but when a yellow squirrel scampered up a tree trunk, he reconsidered.
No, not
quite Earth.

Strange insects flew through the air. He flinched as an oversized
bright azure dragonfly whizzed by his ear. The only time he'd ever seen such a huge
dragonfly was in a museum display. Dragonflies the size of large rats hadn't existed
on Earth since the Carboniferous era. He watched the blue bug flit away.

Blue.
He thought again of the Fugues who'd visited him
a short time ago. They'd spoken to him telepathically, several soothing voices becoming
one message. A feeling of safety and security had overcome him when they spoke.
He still carried a lingering sense of trust toward them.

Walking along the riverside became challenging after a time.
Rather than flat patches of grass and rock, he now scaled muddy walls with difficulty.
His feet slipped under him, and more than once he almost fell into the river. The
mud gave way to a rocky shore, which was flatter, but still cumbersome to cross.
After an hour of hiking, he began to doubt what the Fugues had told him.

As he rounded a bend, he came upon a small, one-person campsite
on the river's edge. Smoke billowed from a pile of sticks next to a hefty boat tied
to a nearby tree. The smell of cooking meat made his stomach grumble. The encampment
didn't appear vacant, so he approached cautiously, hoping Throg lived here.

"Easy, Hoss," came an earthy voice from behind him.
"This isn't a public campfire."

Zach spun to face the camp's owner.

A tall man with short, wavy chestnut hair stood in front of him.
The brown leather- and suede-clad figure held a walking stick. Lean and rugged,
he tilted his sun-baked head and stared down at Zach with cobalt eyes. Dark stubble
peppered the stranger's face.

"Are you Throg?" Zach kept his tone even, though his
heart raced.

The foreigner examined him. "I don't believe we have met
before, have we?"

"N-no, sir. My n-name is Zach Ryder. The F-Fugues sent me."

"The Fugues? Did you just say the Fugues?" His eyes
widened and he stroked his bristles.

"Y-yes, they sent me to f-find you."

"Glory be the Fugues," Throg whispered. He peered up
the river and tapped his stick on the ground. "Well then, I haven't heard or
thought of the Fugues in quite some time. What did they tell you?"

"They told me to follow the river downstream until I found
you. They said I'd be safe with you and that you would be able to help me."

"They said all this now, did they? Only certain Kin can
communicate with the Fugues. You must be a Kin... haven't seen one in some time.
So Biskara could be on the move again, eh?" Throg gazed across the river.

"Who?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot. Biskara is a pure evil entity. He's
what you grew up calling Satan, Lucifer, the devil. He has many names, but on Azimuth
he is known as Biskara. Uh, Zach, where are your interceptors?"

"Who?"

"You'd make a perfect full-bred Earth owl."

"Um, interceptors? I think I ran away from them. Two people
were looking for me, but I was confused. I was on my computer and then in the backyard,
and, and...," he sputtered.

The woodsman grunted. "Same basic story when someone goes
through the mobile portal. So the interceptors let one slip by the goalie, did they?
The Fugues come whenever trouble's brewing. Was anyone following or chasing you?"

"Yes, yes, there was a little man, very hairy, with paint
on his face and beard. He had a loud horn. I raced out of there and fell down a
hill."

"A hairy little fellow with a horn? And looking for Kin?
Sounds like the Bogmen have been contracted by someone to find you. It makes sense.
Offer a Bogman a piece of chud, and he'll dance on hot coals for you." Throg
spit on the ground.

"Uh, sorry, but that's a lot of information. I'm a Kin?
Satan placed a hit on me?" Perplexed, Zach knelt down on one knee, nauseous
as he imagined a red devil with horns hunting him.

Throg chuckled. "Yup, pretty much the gist of things. Before
Biskara decides to strike, though, he has to do something about the Aulic Assembly.
I do hope I'm wrong. If Biskara has returned...."

Throg twirled his stick. "This is a bad situation if Biskara's
gotten rid of the Assembly. Those on the Aulic Assembly are the only ones preordained
to operate the Silver Sphere."

Zach frowned, confused.

Throg continued. "It's an armillary sphere and can locate
the celestial whereabouts of Biskara."

Throg swigged from his canteen and then offered it to Zach, who
accepted. Cold water sluiced down his throat; he hadn't realized how thirsty the
trip made him.

"Biskara is monitored by the Assembly. He's creative, though,
attempting to set up clones of himself and similar strategies. My bet is he kidnapped
them. You're kind of like a backup Assembly, just the way this is. Each Kin serves
as a counterpart to a member of the Assembly."

The tall man took a deep breath and squinted at Zach. "Any
questions?" He accepted his canteen back.

"Uh, Throg, who are you in all this? You seem to have an
awful lot of information."

Throg gave Zach a warm grin. "Well, the Fugues must think
I'm willing to help you reach the rest of the Kin, now don't they? At any rate,
welcome to Azimuth."

The forester had a comforting way about him. Zach wondered why
his stomach remained easy, considering he'd been whisked away to another world to
help its residents battle their version of Satan. Perhaps he belonged here. Back
home, he was never wanted.

He stood in front of Throg on the planet Azimuth, thinking about
how life could change directions. At the same time, though, he missed Adrian. Still,
Adrian would want him to be happy. Of anyone, Adrian knew what Zach went through
every day. There was a lot to cover still. Zach pushed the thought of home aside.

In any case, it was better to be here than sitting on the back
steps of his adopted home, depressed about where his life was headed. Even though
he was bigger than the largest senior at Taft High now, he still felt like a scrawny
fifteen-year-old nerd.

"Give me a second to pack up," Throg said. "We
need to move out, and soon. The Bogmen may run with Nightlanders, particularly because
you're here."

He proceeded to pick up his belongings around the small campsite,
then took a bucket to the river and filled it. Zach offered to help close out the
camp, and Throg thrust the full pail into his arms.

"Put out the fire, if you don't mind. I'll get my things
from inside."

Zach doused the flames.

When Throg emerged from his tent, he carried a pack. "Food,
blankets, all such stuff," he said with a wink. "Never know what you might
need on a trip like this. Here, come give me a hand."

"I'm scared to ask what Nightlanders are," said Zach
as he helped Throg.

"The Nightlanders are soldiers who operate under Biskara's
sons. Every time an uprising occurs, the people banter about Biskara." Throg
placed his gear onto the boat. "But the Nightlanders don't reveal who they
are."

Zach wound a thick rope Throg had given him. "What do you
mean?"

"Well, Biskara's sons never admit who they are until they're
at maximum power. The Nightlanders have a dreadful reputation. The original Nightlander
army, led by Biskara's first son, Hideux, was responsible for a reign of unspeakable
horror. Back then, some mentors questioned the existence of Biskara."

Zach began to understand the dire situation into which he'd been
thrust. He tucked the rope under a seat and helped pick up a few other things around
camp. He shoved forks, spoons, bowls and the like into a satchel.

Throg placed some pots and pans into a sack. "Then Hideux
took power. One of the mentors, the legendary General Rostand, had been sent to
spy a military base on Andromeda. He witnessed Hideux speak to Biskara. General
Rostand managed to escape and reported back to the Mentors' Academy. It was there
that the Silver Sphere was created. It wasn't by coincidence that the truth seekers
reached out at this time, and legend has it that they helped the Academy develop
the Sphere."

Throg had finished packing and the two of them returned to the
boat. The strong but slender woodsman adjusted his bags and motioned for Zach to
hop aboard.

"Throg," Zach began.

"I know, I know, laddie.... Who are the truth seekers? Who
are the mentors? Listen, we met not thirty minutes ago, and we need to travel downriver
to be safe. Let's get going, and I'll fill you in, okay?"

"Sure."