The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption (44 page)

I knelt down and took John’s bony hand,
warming it in mine. My other hand stroked his chilled forehead as I
whispered. “Yes, I’m real.”

John squeezed my hand so hard it hurt my
fingers. My eyes brimming with tears, I loosened my grip and his
hand slipped out and rested on the soft Somalderis wrapped over my
lap. John’s shaking stopped, his muscles relaxed. Letting out a
long sigh, he smiled and closed his eyes.

* * *

John’s Brane—where time is meaningless

A thunderous clap preceded the flash of
light. I held my hand up in front of my face and looked away. Three
not-talking-heads had just appeared before in what I could now see
was another sphere. But these three now had bodies attached. And
wings. Guess the sea we’d all been floating in in “my sphere” had
hidden those before.

“How came you here? This is not your world!”
thought-cried the tallest, an ethereal young woman.

“Hey, can’t disagree with you there,” I shot
back. “Just give us a few minutes and we’ll be out of your golden
hair.”

“Silence!” shouted another winged being with
a gruff voice. “Clearly the Syneph apostate is responsible.”

Did he mean my grumbling genie? “Helpus
Stratum?”

The woman snarled, “Helpus Stratum made the
correct choice. You, Nephil Stratum,” she turned to face my
friend’s puffs, “have betrayed us, and, for that, you will face
dispersion!-”

As the woman raised her winged arm, the third
creature, a wizened old man, caught sight of my Somalderis and
rasped, “It has returned! It shall be ours again!”

I took the opening and I jumped. Bouncing off
the springy surface of the sphere, I leapt head first for the
woman’s trunk. Unfortunately, she must have been a holo, because I
flew straight through her abdomen and landed on my face behind her
back. Oops.

I did succeed in distracting her, though. She
turned back to me, buying Nephil Stratum some time. A lightning
bolt shot out of the woman’s fingers, barely missing me as I rolled
to one side and thrust up over everyone’s heads

The second being aimed his own hand above his
crown. I curled into a ball and pushed off the sphere top with as
much force as I could muster, whizzing through his extended arm and
his winged torso. I spied Nephil Stratum behind me, smothering the
elderly apparition, and keeping him from grabbing the Somalderis as
I slid past.

Landing on top of my brother, I wrapped an
edge of my Somalderis over John’s chest, I glanced up at Nephil
Stratum, who had misted completely through the elderly man and was
heading for us at a windy clip. “Go,” I shouted, spotting both of
the other creatures extending their hands in our direction.

Nephil Stratum’s warmth enveloped us just as
I glimpsed sparks arising from the creatures’ fingers. Would we
have time to get away before our bodies were seared with the
lightning’s flame? The elderly man raised both his hands and—

My body exploded into a million pieces, each
only a few microns in size. I felt the pain of my atoms tearing
apart, screaming for the cohesion of unity that was razed by the
explosion. And John’s atoms, crashing into mine, giving me a
flashing glimpse of the maelstrom in his dying mind. The screams in
the molecules of my ears were coming from his soul. Without the
structure of his body, John had nothing left. And nothing was what
he had always feared the most.

* * *

Benedict’s Lair, Valholler—present day

The Persian carpets in Benedict’s living room
suite felt soothing on my aching skin. I lay on my back taking deep
breaths until my heart rate slowed down and the spinning sensation
passed. And then I remembered. John!

Next to me, John’s eyes were still closed,
his breaths shallow, irregular. I sat up, and looked around the
empty room for Nephil Stratum, Spud, Benedict, anyone. Help!

I heard the rustling of a long gown behind
me. Anesidora. “He needs help,” I cried, “you’re a nurse.”

Smiling, Anesidora walked over to John and
laid a hand on his forehead. “I don’t have the luxury of knowing
Zygan medicine, but I have learned a few techniques from King
Odius’ shaman.” She tapped her Ergal ring, and summoned a chalice
which she lowered to John’s parched lips.

John’s eyes flickered for a few moments as a
golden liquid dripped into his mouth. As Anesidora pulled back,
John’s body shook, and he turned his head to look at her and then
at me.

“Shiloh?” was his only word, before he lay
back and drifted into a peaceful slumber.

“He will sleep for a day while his body
heals,” Anesidora said as she stood up. “Sunsets are nearing, and
you would be wise to rest too before your return.”

“So you’re going to just let us go back to
Earth?” I sat up, my eyes narrowed.

“Good heavens, yes,” Anesidora patted my
hand. “Theodore has no use for--no reason to fear you young
people.” A muttered afterthought. “There is very little that he
does fear anymore.”

A half-question. “You all‘ll be staying
here?”

“Of course. Our work isn’t done yet.”

“What work?” I couldn’t help asking.

“We have mysteries,” she said as she levved
John’s body gently onto the plush couch, “yet to be answered.
John’s venture was a well-meaning effort to reach Level 3, but he
obviously failed. It’s now our turn to try.”

Anesidora sounded so genuine, and almost
convincing. But, she was a Benedict, so I wasn’t going to let down
my guard. Nodding, I forced a smile as I reached over and took
John’s hand in mine. To Anesidora: “By the way, where’s Spud?”

She smiled again and X-fanned, leaving us
alone.

* * *

I woke up, startled to see only darkness
outside of the suite’s glass walls. Night had fallen. John was
still sleeping, his head resting in my lap. Besides his light
snoring, I could hear no other sounds.

Where
was
Spud? He hadn’t—I
hoped--transported over to the universe spheres with me and
remained a prisoner in that hell of isolation? Benedict and his
mother must have meant for me to make that journey alone.

Easing out from under John to not disrupt his
rest, I tiptoed around the suite, looking for a door or exit. I
pushed my chest against the floor-to-ceiling glass—it didn’t give.
Yet another prison. Damn!

No more amphorae, vases, or containers that
might squirrel away another Syneph either. Obviously, Benedict
meant for us to stay in this suite—calling out to him would not be
much help. But, maybe…

“Agriarctos,” I whispered, “I’m hungry. I
need food.”

Silence.

“I’m starving and dying of thirst,” I tried
again. “Some tea, anything.”

Silence. Then, a large Ursan, looking like a
rumpled polar bear, appeared before me bearing a tray of sandwiches
and juice. Agriarctos!

“Thanks, Big A,” I said, patting him on the
arm. I tiptoed up to whisper in his ear. “Can they hear us?”

A flash of light filled the room for a
second. “E-shield. Now they can’t. Hurry up, kid, while they’re
still asleep.”

I knew, but Benedict probably didn’t, that
Agriarctos was really ‘disgraced’ Zygint agent Ward Burton. Was
Wart really on assignment for Zygint, undercover, scoping out
Benedict’s nefarious mission? Or was he a double agent, working
behind the scenes to help Benedict as well? Either way, my using
his real name might put him—and us—in danger. I had to be
ultra-careful, and trust no one, including Wart.

“Brief me,” I mumbled, as I bit into a PnJ
sandwich.

“Go back,” he whispered as he handed me the
drink. “We’ve got it covered here now. And hide that damn
Somalderis.” His eyes darted to the fleece still clinging to my
hips. “It’s a magnet for trouble.”

I swallowed. “Is Spud okay? Where is he?”

“With Benedict. They’ve been alone in
chambers all day.” Wart shook his head. “Without me.”

I winced. Spud alone under Benedict’s
influence? “Is that a good idea…?”

“Escott isn’t the type to fall for the
irrational. He’ll make the right decisions.” Agriarctos placed the
plate with the remaining food on the coffee table and added softly,
“When you three get home, take John back to his core. He’ll ‘ave to
recover.”

Or did he say ‘He’ll Ev to recover’?

“And you? What’s your game?”

“Survival,” Agriarctos growled as he disabled
the E-shield and X-fanned.

Chapter 9

Homeward Bound?

The scent of bacon and eggs woke me up as the
first rays of the suns filtered through the giant windows onto the
plush carpet. In the adjacent dining room, Plionarctos was Ergaling
bowls of breakfast dishes on the long table, which had been set for
four.

I sat up and turned my attention to John.
Anesidora’s potion must be working—my brother looked much healthier
than last night. His color had a hint of pink, his skin no longer
sagged over his bones, his muscles were filling out. I was
overjoyed to see John’s eyes flicker open. He looked up at the
ornate ceiling with a confused expression then swung his head in my
direction.

“Shiloh! My God! Baby Sister!”

I scurried over and gave him a hug. “All
growed up.” I grinned, sitting next to him. “You look so good, big
bro.”

John tried to sit up, then fell back,
clutching his head in his hands. “Don’t feel so good. Where are
we?”

“My domain, Rush,” Benedict boomed, M-fanning
into our view. “Or, I should say, Rushes.” He waved an arm at the
dining room table, where I saw Anesidora was now taking a seat.
“Breakfast is served.

The invitation was welcome. I was actually
hungry. And, it would do John some good to have something to
eat.

A groan by my side drew my attention back to
my brother. “Get up slowly,” I warned him, earning the expected
glare. Wincing, he took another stab at sitting up, this time with
greater success. “Benedict, you bloody bastard,” he growled as his
eyes focused on his old mentor. “Took you long enough to come get
me.”

“We certainly have a lot to talk about over a
delicious meal,” Benedict parried.

John staggered to his feet and, donning a
brave smile, stumbled towards the table with an unsteady gait. I
ran up behind him to spot him, just in case, then jumped ahead to
pull out his chair. Anesidora had already dived into a fluffy
omelet. But, where was Spud? And Nephil Stratum?

John let gravity drop him into his seat. His
hands gripped the edge of the table, easing their shaking. The road
back from the grave would be longer than he was willing to admit.
Plionarctos spooned a large serving of scrambled eggs onto his
plate, and, seeing John’s hesitation, grabbed John’s fork with a
hefty paw and shoveled a sizable bite onto the tines, growling,
“Eat”.

John patted the Ursan’s arm. Gingerly, he
picked up the fork and moved the eggs toward his lips, pausing to
sniff the sulfurous odor before opening his mouth. “That’s one
thing they didn’t get,” John said after he swallowed, “Smell.
Nothing had a smell.”

“I’m sorry. I really could use a shower,” I
admitted. “And a change of clothes.” I eyed Anesidora’s Ergal—a new
pair of jeans and sweater would be nice.

“Then they weren’t Helianthi,” Benedict
interjected, confusing me.

John shook his head. “No. Nor Zygan.”

Benedict ventured, “Cathars?”

“It’s possible,” John said before diving into
the remaining eggs.

I chewed on my hash browns, trying to
remember. When we’d been trapped on his ship, our former Earth Core
Chief Gary had threatened to ‘catharize’ us. He’d used a
neuroinvasive device shaped like a grapefruit to delve into our
minds and tear away our innermost secrets. If I hadn’t learned
ka’vyr from the Ifestians and blocked the mental invasion, my very
essence would have been vacuumed away. Gary had been Benedict’s
very first “test pilot” into the branes beyond. Had he visited that
horrid sphere world where I’d found John and brought back some of
their brain-draining technology back to our universe?

“I was outnumbered and they got the
Somalderis. I held out as long as I could,” John added. “But the
isolation was lethal. Nothing is worse than nothing. Thank you for
sending me the Syneph. She saved my life.”

“Where
is
Nephil Stratum?” I
interrupted. “And Spud?”

“Spud?” asked John.

“My partner. My fellow catascope. William
Es—“

“You, a catascope?” John exploded in
laughter. “George, maybe, or maybe Blair, but I never thought
you’d
fall victim to the Omega Archon’s cultish wiles.”

I frowned. John’s Ergal had literally fallen
into my hands and had led me to Zygint. I’d always thought his
Ergal had been meant for me. “But you were a catascope, too.
Why—?”

“
Were
is the operative word, Sis. I
was taken in by the divine promise of the grand theatre, fabricated
by the majestic Omega Archon. Took Benedict here to show me the
light.”

John
must
be putting on a show for
Benedict’s benefit. Isn’t that what catascopes undercover had to
do? The words stumbled from my lips. “I-I was just following—trying
to find you.” Why was my vision growing misty?

Chuckling, John patted me on the shoulder.
“Glad you did. Please pass the eggs. I’m ready for seconds.”

* * *

I said nothing more for the rest of the meal.
Benedict and Anesidora peppered my fast-recovering brother with
questions about his solitary confinement in the sphere. Though
resembling the spheres that stored Zygan neurocaches in Zygfed’s
RAM, John’s prison sphere had been vastly different, not just in
size.

“I didn’t even know that I had died,”
admitted Anesidora. “I felt as if my experiences were real,
concrete, and entirely under my control. I believed that I could
have everything I wanted and that all my wishes would come
true.”