LIGHTNOVELONLINE Issue 189: The Artock Connection
Issue 10: The Artock Connection
In the beginning: there was the Void. Within that endless expanse, the threads of life sprang forth. Bringing Light to the Multiverse. Many defended those wellsprings. As the Will of the Highest multiplied so did the Dark. For it coveted everything it despised. –Markav Creation Myth. The Great Journey (Vol 1)
And I say unto the Expanse of Light, As long as One Spark Remains, so shall we!—Avandar of Itol State, Genesis Prime.
Earth, when many think of my homeworld, they thought it without teeth. Yet I find myself wondering what would have happened had the Highest not clouded my mind. –From the private Journals of Eliza Murphy, date unknown.
The soul of the Genisis Prime was not gone. It was merely sleeping. The White Haze would not take them. I could see where White could not. Her wounds ran deep.—Sleeping in Starlight, partial observation recovered. CTT Archives. Please notify Prime Directive for further access.
The Jupiter Rising
Docking Bay
April 11th, 2116
Mary dove to the side as sandy tendrils snapped at the space where she had been. Primal chants bounced around within her mind. They had to get Ren to touch the Void Cage. Made specifically for this moment by Ta’mathon himself. She motioned to Robin. He knew this as well. Many were part of the Arcane Order. Very few knew the whole picture. Robin’s red-shafted arrows found their mark.
A spray of black ichor followed by a shrill cry let the merriest man in England know his package had been received.
Ren spat out curses. In between the flecks of sand, Herbert-Lanis spotted the dried-out leather of the fiend’s torso. Bits of cloth still hanging from the burial shroud.
Many in a form of Egyptian that Rosetta Stone only remembered from her earliest assignments. The alternate Earth. This too would come to pass. They would see the ruin Ren had left behind. The flame would grow. Just as Eliza predicted. Mary, even with her demi ability for languages still had trouble understanding the tapestry.
Eliza was the past. The beginning, the middle, and the end.
Mary raised her grav lancer. It’s metals warming to her touch. Bright purple markings indicated the gun was ready to fire. The energy keyed in on the vibration of the universe the Mummy came from. Mary’s finger twitched and the projectiles found their mark.
*****
Ren inhaled the aroma. It was familiar. Her dried lips pulled back into a sneer, “You think to trap me with my people’s magic!? Foolish mortal skin sacks. I will show you true power!” She spat on the deck. Flecks of dried blood turned formed into spectral hounds.
“So summoned from the Pits!”
The Bardaxians came forward. Meeting their foes head-on.
Snarls filled the compartment as the Bardiaxians howled their defiance.
Jupiter released the docking hatches. Cooper’s emerald shielding snapped into place.
Anchoring all his friends to the ship’s plating.
Ren’s sand was sucked out into the depths of space. Freezing instantly.
The deep-throated chanting grew louder.
The obsidian block cracked open. Like petals from a flower greeting the dawn.
Ren screamed, “WE KILLED YOU! BANISHED YOU TO THE WINDS!”
Ta’mathon replied, his voice echoing from the Obsidian, “Never.”
At the Gates of Throne Prime
Time Viewer Holding at 74%
CTT Null Activated
Convergence. All pathways lead to the whole.
The Central Time Tower keened. The walls echoed with the voices of ages long gone. Yet To Be. Those residing on multiple worlds within the Terran Typherian Union.
Mathias Oddessen counted two figures vying for control.
This was the moment his people had been waiting for. What the CTT had been preparing for since the dawning of the Arcane Order. Since the prophecies had been passed down. Not inscribed on stones but through the very fabric of Time itself.
The Curator clasped his hands together. Over the Temporal net his message spilled through all areas past, present, and future.
<
The curator’s eyes opened. Golden light spilled from all three.
The vibrations of the Ouroborous locked in on Eden. Eliza’s Death in the past was now syncing to her Battle in their present. Endless images paraded about the Tower. All points converged. In Earth’s ancestral memory, Ta’mathon chanted. Alongside two familiar figures. Their faces were etched across eternity. Forever bound to the other. Age colored the face of the taller figure. While the other remained eternal.
The Vigil remained.
Always three.
The Past. Its coils were tight around the tapestry.
The Present. The threads cartwheeling out into the stars.
The Future. A crackling void brimming with promise.
Tarkanan
The Depths
Present Day
Lorain blinked rapidly. The words before her legible.
Not only that but recorded in English.
The black sphere before her flashed the words in a dull green color.
<
The words faded as the heavy footfalls of the All-Father paused. His rancid breath tickled her neck. His flesh was finally failing him. Awake for only 3 hrs a day. A walking corpse. She could barely stand the sight of him, Using her powers to dull her olfactory nodes. A skeletal hand brushed her right shoulder. Leaving marks.
“You will transfer me to the babe.”
His voice. Hollowed. Light. Not the rumbling deep of a robust man. It scraped against the gray matter of Lorain’s mind. She winced as the black scrawl brought her to her knees.
“Now.”
Screams echoed from the birthing chambers.
Sy’ra offered a hand. Lorain clutched at it.
Time was not on their side.
*****
The All-Mother paced. The birth was close at hand. Yet it had no connection to her. Not like a Typherian child should. No mind. No nodes. Nothing. She bared her teeth. Thoth’s shadowed form loomed just outside the prepped chamber. She snapped, “What have you done? What is this? IT is not Typherian!”
Thoth smirked, “How perceptive of you. You weren't complaining at first.”
Shadowed figures curled around the All-Mother’s legs. Holding her in place.
White Owls keened above her head, “It comes!”
Her water broke.
A bright light engulfed the birthing chamber.
*****
The lift halted.
The anti-grav caused him to retch as it threw him against the cold metal of the roofing.
The All-Father collapsed. Tarkanan no longer heeded his commands.
Energy cut him off from the Doctor and Sy’ra. Thoth’s crimson eyes multiplied along the walls. “Having trouble old man?” The former ruler snarled at his deranged counterpart, “You know nothing!” He snapped his fingers and Sy’ra along with the human disappeared. The world faded. His resurrection was assured.
Thoth knew nothing.
But the imposter would learn.
*****
Sy’ra whirled. The deep oppressive atmosphere of Tarkanan had faded. But in its place was a world unfamiliar even to her Scholar knowledge. Lorain tumbled back on her hands and knees. The crystal around her neck pulsated with crimson light. A faint cry drew both women. At the base of a stone archway was a bundle. Lorain knew those vitals. It was the baby. Yet a twinge of unease rippled through her body. All around them was primal woodland. Unfamiliar stars twinkled in the sky. A harsh voice emanated from the crystal, “Take the boy to the altar. I will show you. If not?”
Sy’ra clutched her head.
Her knees buckled under the weight of the All-Father’s compulsions.
Lorain picked up the child. His eyes were human.
She shuddered. The baby’s faint cries echoed along the mountainside.
Lanis prayed.
Hoping the Dreaming would take her. She would share the memory of these stars. Hoping that Eliza and the others would find them. A small fist hooked its fingers around her index finger. A bright pinprick of warmth flooded Lanis. She recalled Hiulk’s words.
There is still time for a normal soul to reside within that body.
Sy’ra’s raised her face to the night sky. The moon above was fractured. Pieces of it floating across the sky like white-clawed fingers. In the distance, Lorain spotted a spire with various skyscrapers surrounding it. The orange glow of emergency lights registered in the back of her mind. A figure emerged. His milky white eyestalks locked onto the women and baby.
“Follow.” His voice was modulated. The four arms were unmistakable.
An Artock planet.
*****
Thoth was flung against the wall. Death bored into his face. Choking off his airways. Three White Owls had him pinned. Their pale leering visages an inch from his face, “Where is the vessel. You command this place. Where?” A thin trickle of blood ran down his temple. He croaked out, “All-Father. Gone. Took it.”
The pressure released.
The three owls considered him. Each face warping. Unity’s form rippling underneath.
Their pale fingers plucked at his flesh.
“Find. Give us the child. Not yours. Not really. Stolen.”
If that hadn’t been his seed altered within the All-Mother…..
He cried out as white-hot pain stabbed behind his eyelids.
One owl melted down into its bird form. Hopping toward him on black talons.
“Do not dare to ask.”
The All-Mother huddled in the corner. Her face was frozen. She had seen the babe’s eyes.
To be born in such a way was a curse.
That was not her child. They had merely been the vehicle.
The two other owls faded from view until only their eyes remained.
“Find him.”
The All-Mother seethed. She would sooner kill that thing than let anyone inhabit that body. She buried the impression deep within herself. It had been an empath. Only one House line had that ability. Thoth’s master had stolen it from another Universe. Forced her to give it life. Blood would find blood. Death was the only choice.
Yet it was not Typherian. Not as she was Typherian.
There was a place where Eliza Murphy was not a fluke or genetic mistake.
A world where Typha mixed freely with the trash heap of the universe.
*****
Doc felt that tug again. On her mind. It reminded her of Eliza. The baby gazed up at her with bright eyes. The color of storm clouds. With a small ring of green around the iris. She checked his vitals. Strong heartbeat. No abnormalities. He reached out and caught her hand. Gripping that same right index finger. Sy’ra’s voice raced across the Dreaming.
A new body. A new soul.
Would we trade his life for ours?
Lorain clutched the baby tighter. If they entered that altar as the All-Father wished, this innocent boy would lose everything. A small corner of her mind asked, “Are you sure he is innocent?” The baby let out a small coo. It could be tricking you!
Was this place even real?
Sy’ra’s long fingers closed about Lorain’s bicep.
Sleep.
Only mere moments passed in the waking world.
The Artock came to a halt. Its eyes fixed on the women. “10 Turns. Then we walk!” He beat the ground with the butt of his energy staff. It’s sickly yellow flecked with green.
*****
The All-Father kept needling the human. How delicious of ironies? He would be reborn into an Ayeer hybrid body. One akin to Eliza Murphy. To have such powers at his disposal would be delightful. From what he gathered of Murphy, even with that one battle, she would be hard-pressed to go all out. Pathetic. He would use Sy’ra. Get them to the Altar.
His nanites and soul sigils would do the rest.
Giving him a proper adult body. Using the flesh.
As the sun rose so would a new Ruler.
One unbent by time’s unflinching parade.
Then he would deal with his lovely wife. She would know what the babe was.
All Urraden knew. It was Blood. Vendetta.
Earth (Imperial Colony Delta)
Medical Center
Year 1354 After Imperial Union
Lennard Lanis held his wife as she stared out onto the medical dome above with shell-shocked eyes. His green ones narrowed as the Imperial Guard approached. Their gray armor was spotless. “Doctor Lanis! You violate sub-ordinance….”
He wouldn’t let Urraden know the last Ayeer still lived. He had made sure to change his son’s markers. He would be a demi. Cut off from most of his mother’s heritage. Just as High Arbiter Thomas would have wanted. Thinking of his godfather sent a stab of guilt through the young man. His parents had fallen when Earth had been taken. Then Eliza had come into his life. Mistaken for a human at first.
His family maintained the charade.
Somehow the Ayeers had interbred with humans for the last 5 centuries. Even though he was a gifted medical demi many of the higher levels of genetics had been locked away behind Urraden control. The heavy butt of the rifle cut off the rest of his thoughts. He screwed his eyes shut. Feigning unconsciousness.
The guards poked at the “body” in the incubation chamber.
Lennard’s abilities allowed him to duplicate or hide certain biomarkers. Most of the guards were lax. Relying on their tech to do everything. Finding the right crack within the Mirrors around their universe had been key. The Dreaming had shown him.
“Fine him another 1000 credits.” Came one helmeted voice.
The other guard remarked, “These humans never learn.”
Booted feet climbed the stairway above.
Eliza nudged him, “You did it!”
She cried anyway. Her spirit careened out into the void when her voice could not.
Knowing that the strict birthing controls would prevent her from having another child for at least another century. The only reason Lennard got any rejuvenation therapy was because of his “spontaneous” healing ability. The Urraden hoped to breed shock troopers from it. Not knowing he purposely controlled what he could pass on to his children. Sterilizing his genetic code willingly every time they forced him to “donate” to the genetic cause.
The tears came easily. It was highly likely she’d never see her son ever again.
Yet he lived. Lennard had promised.
Lanis men always kept their word.
She prayed that someone would love him.
*****
I knew this was the Dreaming. Because Lorain held out a baby to me, “Tell me, what do you make of this?” His bright eyes locked onto me. Reaching out in a way I knew only myself and my younger brother could do.
“He’s an empath.”
My eyes widened further. I reached out to cradle him. He had no back nodes. Yet my sight gave me more information than I could imagine. He was Typherian. Or rather he had distant ancestry with them. From a place not of our Universe. Hiulk’s words flowed around us.
“He is family. The Weave and Highest gave him to you to protect. He will help his home universe one day. Yet is caught up in this one for now.”
I replied, “Can we bring his parents here?”
The titan’s draconic face formed in the mist around us both, “When you are ready, they will come to you!” The boy tugged at my mind again. It was just enough for me to….
A warm weight landed on my stomach.
Auggie’s nose brushed my forehead.
<<“We must go! The Arcane will summon you!>>
*****
Lennard didn’t allow his wife to see the body.
He had said he could duplicate the results. Even the flesh samples. The bio readings. Yet the place his son’s “double” had come from had been watered by sheer evil. He climbed higher. The snow around him masked his passage. His Yellow belt shielded him from the worst of the cold. Only along the equator was Earth still habitable. The rest of it was kept in stasis for Urraden to take materials from. If so desired. Mostly for the meats that delighted the King’s Imperial court. Bread and Circuses as his mother always said. Many humans still remembered the old ways.
Hiding their mettle from the enemy.
Soon many would be a part of the Defender Corps. Hidden Bardaxian scouts had smuggled themselves to Earth. Pretending to be common guard animals. They waited until the day of Convergence. His son was a part of that. The mirrors of the Highest had shown him this. The flesh under the bundle rotted with each step he took towards the Temple of the Three.
It must be purified.
Lennard grunted as he pulled the heavy stone doors open.
T’luran, the High Sage of the Commons, rushed forward. “Quickly!” He hissed.
The waters of life flowed from the walls as Lennard placed the body within the center slab. The room darkened. Until only the water’s reflected any light. The remaining Light Shamans of Earth chanted.
Bits of Black Scrawl shot outwards. Meeting the resolve of the holy men.
T’luran shouted, “By the Grace of the Creator!”
Sweat dotted his forehead, “ I BANISH THIS HOUSE OF FALLEN FLESH!”
The bundle crumpled. Leaving a twisted skeleton behind.
Lennard pointed, “That is made of Urraden stock of the Primary!” His demi senses didn’t lie. He knew that pitiable stock. It was branded on every House within the Imperium. D’urdax Urraden claimed that they came from the Primary Universe of creation. Blessed by the Weave.
If his son was in Eden? The end days were upon them all.
The Weave was finally ending it.
False Mirrors would be dust upon the shores.