We rose into a dark dawn in our aircars, speeding north, facing a blue-black sky full of rainy grey clouds. The horizon tilted below us and rain spattered against the canopy. All of Beta was crowded into the aircar, and Taka warriors were squeezed into the aisle between the seats, their narrow faces streaked with sacrificial death paint, their crude edged weapons cutting into the padded fabric of the cabin’s ceiling. We were in litesuits and comtops. We no longer used the A-suits for scraps with the Taka. The bulky and heavy armor was more trouble than it was worth. We saved it for the exos. It was good, for exos. If it had been twice as bulky and heavy, we would have still used it for exos.
It was a beautiful morning for an assault, cold and wet and grim. Lightning flashed to the east. We were flying over a great grey forest, laced in rain. I hugged my E closer to my body. Priestess was sitting beside me. The morning sun broke through the clouds suddenly and illuminated everything: a sky full of silver aircars, manbirds of pure, deadly beauty, slashing through sparkling showers of raindrops, glittering golden reflections from the sun.
Deadeye was sharpening his stabbing spear with a flat, dark stone.
Close your eyes and accept your fate. Valkyrie had come to me out of nowhere, an icy angel in the midst of Hell. I did nothing to deserve her. And then, in another world, I went down an evil tunnel to face my death and suddenly Priestess was there, out of nowhere. Both had come to me amidst pain and death. I loved them, but would it be the same if we were no longer fighting? Maybe we’re just desperate for life.
The op was all planned. We’d learned where to find the Hand of God, the high priest of the Cult of the Dead. CAT 24 had been given the honor. We figured seven squads would bust the last stronghold of the Cult, and hopefully capture the genocidal lunatic who thought racial suicide an appropriate response to a crisis.
The Cult operated out of a crumbling fortress called Stormport, located on the bleak, rocky coastline of the Northern Ocean. The Sunrealmers called the area the Cold Coast. It had once been the capital of a seafaring empire. Now it served as a refuge for cowards. Priests of ambition. Killers of children.
As we neared our objective, Redhawk dropped the aircar suddenly and the earth rushed up wildly to meet us, then wobbled dizzily and leveled off. Now we sped over a wild barren wilderness of shattered grey granite. Ahead a fierce grey ocean hurled itself at the sheer stone cliffs, bursting into white spray.
Suddenly we saw Stormport, a massive stone fortress built right into the cliff, a home for mighty Gods. It was a huge mound of rubble.
“Faceplates down. Tac mode.” The target would soon be reeking with gas from our probes. Deadeye and the auxiliaries had breathers. Breathers and death paint. The squad ZA was right in the heart of the fortress. The main courtyard was overgrown with wild grass and surrounded by great mounds of rubble. As we approached, waves exploded far below against a shoreline of giant boulders scattered like pebbles in the surf.
Probes streaked and buzzed around the ruins.
We reached the courtyard. “Beta-decar!” The assault doors snapped open. A wave of cold air and mist rushed in, and we leaped out.
Strewn about the wet, roofless stone rooms were dozens of unconscious Soldiers of God, but their companions were on the run. The tacnet hissed with commands and comments.
“Any sign of the High Priest?”
“Not so far. Beta, see that group that’s moving to the north?”
“Tenners, we’ll take ‘em.”
“Thinker, take one auxiliary and neutralize the group by the port,” Snow Leopard said.
“Tenners. I’ll take Deadeye.”
“V-min or gas. Let’s not be shy.”
Deadeye and I split off from the others and moved along a stone road at the bottom of another crumbling wall. I had gotten to know Deadeye very well. I had been on many long, exhausting patrols with him, and we had grown as close as possible for immortal and mortal to be. His tribal name was Standfast, and his every waking moment appeared to be devoted to the fight against the exosegs and the Soldiers of God; however, I’d been surprised when I discovered more in his head than the killing of his enemies.
“I am your shield, Slayer.” Deadeye spoke in Taka, which I had absorbed thoroughly by now. Atom spun it magically around my brain every night, level upon level. She gave us no rest. She wanted us to be smarter.
The stone road ran along the fortress side of the sea channel that led to the anchorage. I could see our targets up ahead on the tacmap. The ships had come in right here, I thought, through this narrow channel. The road was lined with deeply weathered statues, Taka soldiers, in full armor, facing the ship channel. Larger than life, their heads had all been lopped off by some nameless foe, leaving a long line of headless warriors standing against the winds of time. But when the statues were new, it must have been quite a sight for the sailors on those ships, strange ships from distant ports, full of exotic goods.
In my comset, I could hear Snow Leopard pressing the attack. Beta ran into a deadly hail of missiles: stones, spiked balls of metal, tridents and spears. But the engagement would be over shortly. It was an unequal contest. For us it was just a mopping up operation, but for them it was the end of their world. They couldn’t win, no way at all. They knew it, and yet they would not quit. I had no sympathy for the Cult, but I admired people who would not quit.
“Soldiers of God, Slayer!” Deadeye had his sling up and poised. The port lay ahead. We kept low, sprinting from statue to statue. The images of the Cultists appeared on my faceplate, seemingly unaware of our presence. Deadeye grinned at me, in his element. Waves crashed against the shore and covered us with frigid spray.
Several Cultists moved up ahead. Deadeye had his loaded sling draped back over his shoulder, his sling arm cocked and trembling. Another wave boomed up ahead.
“I see them, Slayer!” Deadeye spoke just as I saw them myself, two soldiers with spears, scrambling up the cliff from the water. Two more, according to my tacmap, still near the water.
“They do not see us, Slayer, not yet. But they know we come. Tread softly.” We approached carefully, shoulder to shoulder now, crawling over wet slimy rock, great slabs of cut granite hiding us from the Scalers.
“I’m going to fire gas,” I informed Deadeye. “Put on your breather.” Deadeye complied quickly. A Cultist suddenly appeared, climbing up out of the rubble by the shore, clambering up the hillside, followed closely by another.
I aimed just between the two, and gently squeezed the trigger. Deadeye let loose with his slingshot simultaneously. The Cultists vanished in the shattering blast of the explosion and the great green cloud of gas that quickly formed. Rock chips ricocheted all around us.
“Up above, Slayer! Shoot them!” A new group of Cultists had emerged from the rocks above us, throwing rocks and spears. A metal spike shattered the rock at my feet, striking sparks. I switched to v-min auto and sprayed the hillside above us. The rain of projectiles ceased.
“Get these two.” I rushed forward, into the gas cloud.
“Get!” Deadeye acknowledged, following close behind me. A painted form loomed in the green mist. I shot him in the face with a V bolt and his head snapped back, limbs flying. He rolled down the slope into the waves. His nose and mouth had been covered with cloth, to protect him from the gas. They were getting smarter.
I saw Deadeye slip and slide down to the rocky shoreline, setting off an avalanche of loose rocks. The ground suddenly crumbled beneath my feet and I slid down a steep wet slope. The gas cloud thinned, and a great wave of black water burst into foam before me, filling the air with mist. Deadeye grappled with a Cultist, but it was over before I could help, and Deadeye released the corpse to slide down into the swirling water. Large rocks began tumbling down the slope above us.
“Look, Slayer! Above!” The Cultists were positioning a broken length of column at the edge of the slope. If they succeeded, it would take out half the hillside. The gas swirled around in mad fitful circles, but it did not reach them. There were at least three of them up there. I switched to xmin auto. When the echoes ceased, the column was still balanced on the edge of the cliff, but there was no more movement from the Soldiers of God.
Deadeye tugged on my arm, pointing into the water. The gas cloud had cleared. Waves burst into foam, spray hissing through the air. We could see clearly now. Not far from shore, a slab of rock jutted up from the waves. A pale, longhaired naked girl was manacled to a massive rusty metal ring set in the stone.
She lay on her belly, unmoving and flat against the rock, one foot in the water. The waves burst against the rock, showering her, her hair, plastered to her skin.
“Death’s gate!” I exclaimed.
Deadeye spoke. “…a sacrifice, Slayer. She must be important. The Gods have her now.”
“To Hell with the Gods! Hold my E.” I handed it to Deadeye, a court-martial offense.
“Slayer, you cannot! The deep comes for her!” I dived into the frigid water. The shock almost stopped my heart. I surfaced, then struck out through the waves for the rock, just ahead. My left hand touched the rock-gritty, slime-covered stone. I pulled myself out of the water, freezing and numb. My hands tingled. She was breathing shallowly, eyes closed, her mouth open. A fragile, tender, lovely creature.
Deadeye’s voice came floating to me, as if in a dream. “Slayer! The gortron! Tell me how to shoot the E!” A black whip snapped around my neck with explosive force and yanked me off my feet, back into the water. Something sticky wrapped itself around my comtop and ripped it off with tremendous force. A torrent of freezing water rushed in on me, a red roaring in my ears, I could not breathe, something curled around my neck. Can’t see. Which way is up! I raised my hands to claw at the viselike cord around my neck. Tough leathery spikes, cutting into my hands. I could not remove it.
The strength seeped from my body. In moments I would die. Weapon, need a weapon! My hand went automatically to my hot knife, strapped to my thigh. I brought it up with numb hands and triggered it and slashed wildly around me. I could barely see the blue-white flame burning in the water. My knife met resistance, and I slashed into it with the last of my strength.
Release. Sudden release, something ripping past my neck, gone. Air! Need air! Exhausted, buffeted by waves and still underwater, I saw the knife firmly in my right hand, burning at the edge of my vision. My shoulders slowly settled on a rock. A faint glow was above me. The surface! I struggled upwards. Gortron, Deadeye had said. What in Deadman’s name is a gortron?
I surfaced in the foam of a wave breaking against the sacrificial rock, and flooded my lungs with pure, icy air. The girl was in the arms of the gortron. An obscene black tentacle slid over her body like a great water snake, a caress of death, leaving a faint trail of blood, then falling carelessly into the water. A spiky mass of wet black chitin broke the surface and a wave burst over the creature. Two horny whips snapped violently out of the water, trailing spray, cracking viciously on the girl’s naked back. Her body arched. She awoke. Another spiky tentacle snapped over her body, wrapping itself convulsively around her tiny waist. She looked into the eyes of the gortron and screamed.
I made it to the rock and seized her by an ankle with my left hand. I had my mini out now, although my frozen fingers could barely feel it. I could see the gortron, black wet eyes atop two stiff stalks of chitin, calmly gazing at us. A heavy wave broke over me; I lost my grip and grabbed her by the hair. She struggled in blind panic. If the gortron pulled further, her arms would be torn out of their sockets because of the chains. From the corner of my eye, I saw Deadeye leap into the water, his breather discarded, a knife in one hand. A knife! We had never taught the Taka how to fire the E. It had not seemed like such a good idea, until now. For our mistrust, Deadeye offered his life.
I released the girl’s hair and wrapped one arm around her neck. She screamed in panic, but I was not leaving her. A tentacle slapped onto my shoulder and snaked around my waist. The gortron rushed at us with the wave, streaming spray, its spiky beak opening to reveal a frightening maw lined with razor-sharp teeth. I aimed the mini directly into it, and fired.
The laser burst lanced through the gortron. I kept the trigger depressed, slashing the laser up and down like a whip, the beam shrieking raw white-hot pulsating energy. The gortron exploded like a punctured balloon, splattering awful green gore all over us, severed tentacles whipping wildly through the air.
Deadeye rode into the mess on a wave, shrieking, slashing his knife blindly. The gortron became a thrashing whirlpool of uncontrolled nerve endings, tentacles whipping down into the waves. I ceased fire. I still had the girl by the throat. She choked, convulsing. I loosened my grip.
The green and black remains of the beast floated around us like vomit from some distressed god. Deadeye struggled out of the water onto the rock. I helped him up.
Deadeye and the girl shivered as I burnt away the chains with my hot knife. Icy waves burst over us. The girl appeared to be in shock, glassy-eyed and helpless. “Deadeye, we have to swim back.”
“I cannot swim, Slayer.”
I pondered this for a moment, as Deadeye clung miserably to the rock close beside me, his skin slowly turning blue. He cannot swim, yet he jumps in to fight the gortron. I decided that I would teach Deadeye how to fire my E. I did not much care about regulations or consequences at that point.
I made two trips across the icy waters to the shore, first with Deadeye, then with the girl. By the time I carried her ashore, I was afraid that she might die of exposure.
I recovered my E and fired a flare into a shallow cave formed by a jumble of rubble. It burned brightly, a hot, brilliant, flaming yellow fire, spitting sparks. I picked her up again and we went inside and huddled around the flare on our knees, bathing in its warm glow. I held her close and rubbed her arms, trying to get her circulation going.
My comtop was at the bottom of the anchorage. I could not contact Beta, and there was no sign of anyone else in the vicinity. Firing another flare into the air could attract as many Cultists as Legion soldiers.
Deadeye and I held the girl close to the flare. Her eyes were open but glassy. Deadeye and I stared at her. I could hardly believe it. Freezing, in shock and soaking wet, her long hair plastered all over her shoulders, she was beautiful. I cursed the perverse logic of the Cult.
“Look away, Slayer,” Deadeye said, explaining it all.
Good advice, I thought. I did not, I could not, look away.
“Do not look at her, Slayer. She has returned from the dead, she has escaped from the Gods.” He sounded scared.
For the first time, I noticed she wore a dull black medallion on a cord around her neck. I could barely make out the emblem, a dark skull, under the crown of a king.
“Deadeye, tell me about her. Why do you look away? She is beautiful. Does she have a man? What is that symbol?”
A faint moan escaped Deadeye’s lips. “Do not think it, Slayer. You must turn your eyes away. I know this girl now. She is not of your world. She belongs to the past, and she carries the sign of the Book. This is Moontouch, of the Dark Clouds. The Cult took her to appease the Gods, and because they hate the Book. She is a princess of the House of the Past and her father is a king. She is a virgin and she can only take a loremaster for her man. She is a web-spinner and if you get too close she will take away your mind. And now she is dead. She will claim you, Slayer. I am afraid for you! You must be strong!”
I quipped, “Well, she’ll have to get in line behind Priestess and Valkyrie.”
Moontouch looked at me, as if from a long way off.
“Deadeye, does she speak Taka?”
“Yes, Slayer. She hears all, she knows all. We have both taken her from the Gods. We will die.” I had never seen Deadeye so depressed.
“What do you mean, she can only take a loremaster for her man? I thought the loremasters were all dead, that only women kept track of the past.” Atom had told us all about it. The cult of knowledge was now exclusively a female pursuit, in Sunrealm. Men knew only how to fight, and how to die.
“Yes, Slayer, it is true. She cannot marry. She sleeps only with knowledge and power. But she has died, Slayer. You took her-we took her-from the Gods.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Deadeye! We took her from the Soldiers of God, who wanted to kill her! Her father will thank us. The Dark Clouds will thank us!”
“No, Slayer. The Cult had offered her as a sacrifice to the gortron. It is a sacred ceremony. She is the Food of the Gods. You-we-took her back. She is dead, she is cursed. So are we. Cursed.”
“Is the gortron a god?”
“He is the mouth of the Sea, and the Sea is a god.”
“And I killed him. I killed a god! There is nothing to fear. Are you afraid of a girl? She is only a girl!”
“No, Slayer. She is death! You should put her back on the rock, and leave her there.”
“Deadeye! How can you say that, after what you did? You wanted to shoot the gortron with my E, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
“Yes, Slayer. Yes. But I did not know how to shoot it.”
“Why? Why try to shoot the gortron? Why leap into the water, to fight it with your knife? You said it was a god. Would you kill a god?”
Deadeye sighed deeply, and looked into the cloudy sky. The flickering glow from the dying flare lit up his face. “It was for you, Slayer. I am your sword, and your shield. For you, I face the Gods. But not for her.”
Deadeye would not say any more. He just huddled miserably by the flare, still holding our captive by one arm. She looked at me closely, breathing shallowly. An icy flash shot through my veins as her dark misty eyes gazed into mine. My flesh crawled.
“She is afraid of you, Slayer,” Deadeye said at last. “But you should be afraid of her. She will kill you, Slayer.”
“I am immortal, Deadeye, remember?”
“Moontouch,” I said gently. “I am Slayer, and I bring death to all your foes.” It was the traditional Taka greeting, warrior to virgin. “I have come from out of the great dark to return you to your father, the King of the Dark Clouds. Can you hear me?”
Her lips trembled. “Hear.” Her eyes did not leave mine.
“Moontouch, you are cold. I give you something to fight the cold.” I punched a mag from my medkit, and showed it to her. “Put this on your tongue, and swallow it.”
Moontouch shuddered, and looked deep into my eyes. Then she closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. Her pink tongue trembled slightly. I placed the mag on her tongue and she swallowed it. Just like that. An alien monster from another world has just killed a god. Take this, says the monster. Swallow it. She closes her eyes, and opens her mouth, and swallows it. Something very wrong here, I thought.
“Deadeye, run up the hill and strip the soldiers. We need their clothing, all of it. For you and the girl.”
“Clothing!” He scrambled up into the rubble of that ancient city. Moontouch was looking into my eyes again, quiet.
“Speak to me, Moontouch. Are you cold?”
“I am dead.” She said it quietly, totally resigned to her fate.
“Moontouch, you are not dead. Your heart beats within you. You are a princess of the Dark Clouds. Your father awaits you!”
“I am the Food of the Gods. I am the slave of the dead. I cannot return, God-killer from the great dark. I cannot return. Your servant Deadeye is right. You should leave me here to die.”
“I will not leave you. Who is to know what happened here? The Soldiers of God are all dead or dying. The gortron is dead! I will say I took you from the soldiers. It is true! We don’t have to tell about the gortron. Who is to know?”
“The Gods will know. I am dead, Slayer of my foes. I am dead.”
“You are alive!” I almost shouted it. “You are alive, because of me, and I will not permit your death. I will bring you back to your father. I didn’t jump in that water, kill that creature and rescue you, just to let you die. I do not give you permission to die.”
“Your servant will know.”
“He is not my servant. He is my brother. He is my sword, and my shield. And he brings death to all your foes. We are one.”
“He is a Taka, and he fears the Gods, as I do. If he helps us in this, he is as dead as I am.” Moontouch shivered. “I was a princess of the House of the Past, guardian of the holy dead, a keeper of the truth. Now I am only a phantom, doubly cursed. My life will be a lie. I will walk the corridors of life like a ghost, a slave of Fate.”
“You are young, and should not die. We are all prisoners of the Gods. I have come from another world, to pull you from the very mouth of the gortron. It means you are not destined to die, but to live!” Predestination, and fate. The Sunrealmers believed in it just as much as I did.
Moontouch calmly gazed into the dying yellow glow of the flare. She turned her eyes to mine, and looked right into my soul. Her eyes were deep, dark pools, swirling galaxies full of stars, a sudden, secret gateway into another dimension.
“You are right,” she said. “I am yours, Slayer. I have lost my world. My life has ended.”
Deadeye returned with the skins, and we dressed Moontouch in the bloodstained clothing of her slain enemies.
Deadeye bowed to the Gods. “We are dead already,” he said. “Slayer and Moontouch and Standfast. We are only phantoms now, passing among the living, who do not know. It does not matter what we do now. We are all doomed. It is Fate. I stand by my brother, Slayer. Speak, and it will be done.”
Moontouch spoke. “Slayer, immortal Godkiller from out of the Great Dark, and Deadeye Standfast, Waterwalker, who defies the Gods, fearless enemies of my enemies, I do not mean to alter your fates. I am only a speck of dust in the wind. My Fate is already fixed. I am the Food of the Gods. I am doomed, and if you were wise you would tie me again to the rock and let me die. But I can see this is not to be. You have taken me back from the grasp of the Gods. My future is yours. I am nothing. I am your slave, Slayer. I am yours.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she bowed her head.
Deadeye moaned. He knew what it all meant, already.
A great sense of dread washed over me. Moontouch was stunningly beautiful, but something in her eyes made me hesitate. She would be an important prize to command for the Legion, I thought. I certainly couldn’t get personally involved-could I? I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. She had plans for me. For a moment, I thought maybe she was right. Maybe I should throw her back to the sea! If I didn’t, Priestess certainly would. Or Valkyrie.