_____________________________ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Otherworld <> Chapter 6 A Taste of Fear Copyright 1992 Bryce Koike _____________________________ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Any comments, criticisms, opinions, etc, are welcome. I can be reached on Internet as: bkoike@sdcc13.ucsd.edu or mage@netlink.cts.com -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- "Still night, nothing for miles, White curtain come down, Kill the lights in the middle of the road And take a look around . . . It don't help to be one of the chosen One of the few, to be sure When the wheels are spinning around And the ground is frozen through, and you're Driven, like the snow Pure in heart Driven together . . ." ("Driven Like the Snow" -- Sisters of Mercy) -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Date: September 9, 1992 Location: Hayward, California Otherworld Time: 9:56 am The door abruptly opened, making Tracy jump. It was only Vince, though, with a bag full of groceries on his hip. "Ho, ho, ho!" he said. "So what did little Tracy want for Christmas?" "You scared me!" laughed Tracy. "You get everything we were looking for?" "Yeah. Still nothing on the CB. You think maybe no one else in this world is smart enough to pick one up?" "I dunno. Hey, you're wet!" She took the paper bag out of his hands to let Vince remove his jacket. "Yeah, it's raining outside. You didn't notice?" "Uh-uh. I was just reading. Had a chat with Matt." "Oh yeah? What about?" "Just stuff. You know, hanging out like things used to be. It was really nice." "No headaches or anything?" He jumped into a chair and tried to shake the water from his hair. "No freak incidents? No demons from the woodwork?" "No, silly. Vince, I told him." "I'm willing to bet he was nice enough not to say `I told you so.'" He smiled. "Yeah." She smiled and looked away. "Real gentleman, he was. But that didn't stop me from feeling like a fool." "He never got over you, did he?" "I seriously doubt it." "Hmm." Matt had a crush on Tracy back in high school and bothered her to the point where she was ready to call off their friendship in quite the permanent manner. Now was definitely not the time for the rekindling of his flame. "Did it bother you?" "Bother me? No, I can't say it did. He understands." You're wrong, thought Vince, but didn't have the heart to say it. Matt's vulnerable. Weak. He doesn't let it show, but he is. A hand waved in front of his face. "Vince?" Tracy asked. "Hey, boy, you're zoning on me." "Sorry. Just thinking about my shopping trip, that's all." "Yeah? What about it?" "Oh, I was just walking the aisles. Saw the shampoo my mom likes, you know? I had to do all the shopping in the family 'cuz mom had to work and raise the kids. It just made me think back." "You miss your family?" Tracy shifted closer. Vince suddenly realized that she had entered the unmarked Danger Zone and he started to get a little nervous. "Ah, sometimes. I mean, my relationship with mom was never very good. I would've moved out sooner if everyone didn't need me so much and all that. And hell, if dad hadn't been such an ass, maybe things would have been alot better. But things didn't turn out that way, so oh well!" He paused and looked out the window. "Sometimes I like it better here." "Poor Vincent." Trace ran a finger through his wet hair, curling it into a pattern. "Stop." Vince stood and pushed Tracy aside. "Trace, look, you're my friend and you're really nice, but . . . but this just isn't right. Okay?" Arms akimbo, and with a sour look on her face, Tracy said, "Wait. Does this have something to do with Matt?" "What?! This has nothing to do with Matt, Trace. Look, I'm just not interested in you in that way. I'm not trying to be-" She threw her hands up. "Fine, fine. I understand. Yeah, dumpy old Tracy just isn't your type. I know your type, Vince. Yeah, fine. I'm sorry that I had the gall." "Trace . . ." "Get out, Vince." His head pressed against the door, Matt exercised a few of his new powers. Tracy coming on to Vince? Now that was new. They'd make an interesting couple. Neither of them had read him quite right, although Vince had come close for a moment. He felt guilty listening and _feeling_ in on their conversation, but seeing as how it did have something to do with him, Matt did feel he had some right. "Ah, Vince, you don't get it," he thought. "I don't care if you and Tracy fall in love. She's not mine and so I have no right to play the Jealous Boyfriend role. I have nothing to be jealous of." Tracy's anger flamed up so quickly that Matt nearly lost control. He whipped back his mental tentacles and fell back onto the bed. "The pained ego," he mused. "How familiar that one is to me." Someone knocked on the door. "Come in," called out Matt. He had been more careful this time, reserved his energies, cautiously aimed them in the right directions. He was getting better. Much better. Vince opened the door and poked his head in with a silly smile on it. "So she told you," he said. Matt did not overlook the fact that Vince didn't want to say anything about Tracy. "Yup. And you were doubting me. Silly boy." "Hey, c'mon. You've got to admit that what you were saying was a little off the wall. Alien invaders, men in windows. Is this the Twilight Zone?" "Sure as hell isn't Kansas, babe. Here. Check this book out. Solar cells." "Yeah, so?" "So . . . harness enough of these and we can power a small home. You get me?" "Hey. And with solar heating we can have hot water, too." "Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Sure as hell would beat moving around all the time. First problem would be to find the solar cells and get them hooked up. And we'll need a lot of cells. They're extremely inefficient. And we'll need to get some sort of battery system for the nights." "Matt, this little project of yours is starting to escalate." "I know. Look, Berkeley's only so far away. We can raid their library and get some info. There'll be government documents and stuff. We can also get info on where to locate solar cell manufacturers and some books on setting stuff like this up. We'll be set, hmm?" "Well, sounds good. Here, move over and make room." Matt scooted over so Vince could sit. "Vince?" "Yeah?" "You believe me, don't you?" "If you look me in the eye, Matt, I'll believe you. Just please don't screw with me, okay?" "Promise. You ready to listen?" "Shoot." Matt leaned back in the bed and rested against the wall. "I'm beginning to understand why the things that've been happening have been happening." "Huh?" "Think of something, Vince. Think of anything. Think of an object, a fruit, a person, anything." Vince looked toward the ceiling for a moment. "Okay, shoot." "Cindy Crawford. Poor taste, really." The video playback unit was finally working. The mechanids had brought back a large load of taped units which contained a variety of entertainment videos. This was good. Four of their number allowed themselves to be specially modified for language translation. To make use of this world, understanding of the language was mandatory. Reading would have to come next, but that would be a far more difficult task. Even though the Quunan Mur had the ability to learn languages at an incredible rate, it was still a long and tedious process that could take weeks or more. And watching the tapes they began to learn about the society of the people who lived on this planet. Where had they gone? Why were their cities deserted? None of the tapes lent any explanation. "WAIT!" cried Vince. He leaned forward. "You read my MIND." Matt gave a secret little smile. "You didn't believe me the first time. I've been practicing. I've gotten a lot better, as you can tell. And no, I'm not reading your mind right now and no, I don't do it normally. But mind reading's only the beginning." "What else, Matt? What else?" Vince was somewhere between excitement and fear and it didn't take mind reading to figure that one out. Matt decided to play it cautious. "You remember that alien I saw and you didn't? And the man in the window? I think I've figured it all out. Somehow my powers let me see through their illusions. Illusions that make them seem invisible! When I saw the man last night, at first I didn't even notice him. Then I noticed his shadow. It took a lot of concentration, but then I could bring out his silhouette. The alien and that man both had some sort of ability to make themselves invisible to us!" "You sure?" "Positive, Vince. I'm totally positive." Matt got out of the bed and threw his hands toward the ceiling. "Why me, Vince? Why me? I never asked for this burden. I didn't want to become our unnamed leader and I don't want these powers. But somehow I got stuck with them both. You don't know what kind of responsibility I've got growing on my shoulders here. I've got a mental power that lets me read minds, pierce illusions, and who knows what else. That power can be used for good or evil, Vince, and I'm the only one who gets to decide in this. It's too much." The two skulks carefully made their way through the streets. Despite their innate powers, it still paid to be cautious. Neither of them wanted to follow in the footsteps of their comrade who had been sacrificed that night for his Presence. Insubordination was inexcusable. This was the farthest they had ever wandered from the home base and despite their direction sense it made them uneasy. All they had to do was find a suitable location for a new base of operations and avoid detection. It seemed like such a simple command, but the manlings of this planet desired too many fragile windows and too many tiny buildings. What sort of warlike people was this? The skulks stopped in their tracks when they saw the two knights step out from around the corner. They increased their invisibility and attempted to press themselves into the wall, all the time broadcasting a warning signal. Then one of the knights noticed them. He pulled from his shoulder a long intricate weapon. His armor made him look like a monster with an empty plate for a face. The skulks turned to run, realizing that somehow their invisibility had failed them, but flame burned through them, forcing them to scream in agony. The flame burned again before they died. The two knights strode forward. Their faceplates lifted to reveal the humans inside. They traded worried looks and slammed their faceplates closed. Weapons at ready they turned to continue their exploration of the city. Tracy slapped him as hard as she could. He staggered back a step before he was able to catch himself. Standing there, a hand on his pained cheek, he looked so very pitiful. "I deserved that," Matt said. "I'm sorry." An apology would not be enough. She grabbed handfuls of shirt and pulled him close to her face. "I cannot BELIEVE that you would read our minds like that, Matt! To betray my trust like that, to VIOLATE ME!" "Tracy . . ." "Fuck you!" she screamed, tears started to form. "How could you? I trusted you, Matt! I trusted you with everything!" "I never read your mind, Tracy. Yours or Vince's until just now. I never tried until I wanted to prove to Vince that I did have powers." "You just said that your were using your powers on us earlier!" "Oh, Tracy." He turned around and stalked to the window. "The appropriate name for the power I was using is `empathy.' It's only reading surface emotions. I was afraid to try to go any further. Tracy, I DIDN'T want to violate your trust. I'm sorry I did what I did, but I had to practice somehow and prove to myself that I could do what I thought I could do." "That doesn't make it right," she whispered, the tears making her face ugly. Tracy buried her face in her hands and shook her head. "So anytime you want now, you can just invade our minds and get whatever you want out of it, huh?" "I . . . Tracy, I never said that." "But you could. If you wanted to." "I never would." "Promise." "Tracy, you know I wouldn't." "Promise!" she cried. "You promise to me on everything that means anything to you! You promise or I'm leaving right now!" Matt took a step back. "I promise, Tracy. I promise. I mean that." She took two steps and clutched him close to her. "You bastard," she whispered, so soft that he could barely hear her. "That hurt." Before he could awkwardly put his arms around her, she shoved him away. "Never do that again to me, Matt," she said as she wiped the tears from her face. "Never again." "I understand." Vince suddenly stepped forward and said, "Hey, now the festivities are over, how about Matt shows us that summer home he's planning for us? Huh? C'mon, Matt, get out your dumb books and show us." Matt play-punched him. "Jerk. It was just an idea." "Am I saying I didn't like it? I like it. I like it! Honest!" They laughed and Matt went to get his books. They called him Angus of the Swift Hand. And as he stood atop the hill and looked down on the city, anger welled up from deep inside him. He raised his hand and a shot of light burst from it to rise into the sky. "Now!" he cried. The patrol turned and watched the ball of fire drift upward. Then men were rising up from the hill. Riflemen! Shots exploded from rifles. A quarter of their number went down dead or injured. The Elder growled. Swinging both arms forward, eldritch light began to arc between his fists. "Stop them!" he cried. Bringing their stolen rifles to bear the Eternals returned fire. One went down, by his own bullet -- reflected by Angus. The Swift Hand had killed again. The lightning bolt was strong enough. The Elder opened his fists and let the energy bolt fly. It exploded through the air and barely gave Angus a moment to raise an eyebrow before it plowed into his chest, knocking him backward onto his back. "Continue firing!" shouted Ben. "Kill the robed one! Kill him!" Shots echoed. Two more of the Eternals went down. "Bahk shi!" spat the Elder. Crouching low behind the remaining members of the party he quietly chanted, quickly gathering the energy he required. Some of the rebels were down or dead. This was better. The war was going against the fools. The Elder smiled. They were close enough that the explosion should kill or stun them all. Angus stood from where he had been laying, a blaze of flame in his hand. The Elder cried out, but it was too late. The fireball exploded in their midst, spraying deadly flame in all directions. Angus dropped to one knee, drained by the immense output of energy. Angus wiped his brow. "I've been wounded," he noticed as he pulled away the armored vest. The lightning bolt had been fairly powerful -- powerful enough to blow through the kevlar vest he wore. The medic was tending to the wounded and the dying. He should be doing the same. "I'm low on strength," he told Roger. The medic nodded. "But I'll do what I can." Ludwig was dying. Already he may have gone past the point of no return. Angus called out the words that would make the magic work. Let the wound heal! It closed partially, staunching some of the bleeding. Did the healing work deeply enough? Ludwig cried out and then was still. Feel for a pulse, man! Unused to the more mediocre methods of healing, Angus reached for the man's neck as he called on his magic again. Only one more spell, he reminded himself. He would have to make this one work. The wound sealed itself most of the way this time. Was he in time? Ludwig was still warm. Weakly, ever so weakly, was his pulse. But the man was alive! Angus let his breath out in relief. "He'll live," he told Roger. "But others won't, Angus. We lost five of our number in little more than a minor skirmish. Four more are incapacitated for who knows how long. Even you were injured." "I know, Roger," Angus replied. "I know. But someone must mount a defense against these demons. Can we stand by and let this world become theirs? Allow them to pick and choose from our number to be members of their sacrfices to the devil?" Angus staggered then and fell to his knees. "I am weak," he gasped. "Need rest to regain my energies." Roger placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then rest, friend. We have the time." "But how long, friend Roger? How long before this scourge has spread across all the earth? And what can we, mere mortals, hope to bring to bear against this threat?" Roger smiled. "I have ideas, Angus. But it will require your talents." "Anything, Roger." "Good. Talk to Ben. He knows the specifics. It'll involve getting our hands on some military hardware." "Hardware?" "Weapons, Angus. Weapons." Angus smiled. "Ah, your fabled weapons of mass destruction. How excellent your people were at warfare and slaughter." "Not so unlike your own." The smile turned sad. "Indeed, friend Roger. Not so unlike my own." "When was this?" asked Lord Geentung. The Mindover was babbling. By his markings and robes he was most likely a diplomat initiate. "Lord, lord, knights in great armor killed two of our skulks in the north! It was not minutes ago that this happened!" The warlord shook his head. "This is intolerable!" he rumbled. "Are our Mindovers useless now? What makes them so easy to detect? Who were these `knights' that killed them?" "Ohhhh," moaned the Mindover, "I know not, oh great warlord! They had but a glimpse of them before they turned to run. They were great, huge warriors carrying mighty weapons that struck down the skulks like carrion!" The Mindover fell to his knees moaning. "Paugh. Weaklings, these Mindovers. Had warriors been involved in this mission there would have been no such cowardice. We rely too heavily on the abilities of the Mindover and it now appears that their abilities are lacking. Diplomats! Explain!" Ecee-Rushe and Potas-Trool shook their heads. Potas-Trool rose to his feet with his feelers and antennae waving in confusion. "I know not, lord, unless those knights were Mindovers themselves. Normals should have no ability to pierce such an effective disguise. These knights to the north must have some powers that we have never known before." "What idiocy is this, diplomat?" droned Lord Geentung. "New powers? Children who are more dangerous then all the continents of Quunan Mur combined? Your paranoia is not welcome here. It seems that a method of locating our skulks has been found, this is true, but to call it some new `power'? What ability could this be, Potas-Trool? Advisor Sala? Perhaps they themselves are innate Mindovers. These may not be the same beings as our unimpressive manling enemies." Sala rose to his feet. "Indeed this could be true. Recall, members of the council, the Slool. Their own reality is many times removed from this shadow and yet they were brought here by some unexplicable act, possibly one similar to that which stranded us here on Otherworld. If so, they may prove to be very deadly enemies. And in possible, such violent contact should be . . . avoided. Hmm?" Ecee-Ruse rose half-way from his seat. "You propose a courtship with these so-called knights?" "Why yes, diplomat. If they are so mighty would they not make powerful allies? And certainly it would be far preferable to have them join us than to make war with them." "Even so," said Lord Geentung, "even so. I want the Hunt out. Leader of the Hunt! Rise up now and tell us of your preparations!" Far down the table sat a lone individual. None dared to attend or sit nearby him. He slowly stood, his great muscles carefully flexing and stretching in that move. At his full height he dwarfed even some of the Eternals. His body was man-like, but his head was that of a rabid wolf. He bared his teeth. "Lords, attendants, and diplomats of the council," he rumbled in the primal tongue. "With the gracious aid of the Elders and Mindovers I have come to you with the news that a full predatory group of twenty Hunters and their beasts are prepared. The beasts are hungry, lords, and desire to find flesh to feast upon." The warlord stood and bowed. He flagrantly displayed his pleasure with waving antennae. "Why excellent, Leader of the Hunt! This nightfall you and your Hunters will leave from our home and you will go out. Find sacrifice for us, find Presence!" The Hunter carefully bowed and then left from the room. "Bestial creatures," remarked Sala. "They are our ancestral kin, Sala," reminded Ecee-Rushe. "Never forget that. Never forget blood lineage." "Even one so distant that it has become more legend that memory? Please, diplomat, our ties to the Hunt is as strong as the ties of these humans to their ape ancestors." "Ties, advisor, which the manlings have never forgotten." His point made, Ecee-Rushe flattened his robe and sat, regal in his pride of a score that was won. Sala dismissed the diplomat's retort with a flick of his bony finger and returned to his seat as well. Riding upon a sled that made no noise, along deserted city streets, rode a Hunter. Before and around him charged his warbeasts, great wolves altered by long-term investment of magical and mental energies. Predatory animals who once killed only to feed now killed for pleasure. Blood to pour, blood to feed upon. "Ah, lords," thought the Leader of the Hunt. "If only you knew why we serve you so."