Read The Last Protector Online
Authors: Daniel C. Starr
"What have they done to deserve life?” Abe countered. “When we arrived between the Standing Stones and were greeted by the Captain, we had high hopes—especially knowing that this world possessed an Orb. Perhaps we could replace what had been destroyed, create a new world with a new order. But, despite our best efforts to educate them in the ways of conquest, the people of this world have no killer instinct. They wish only to serve, and seem willing to wait forever for their precious Guests to come.” He sighed in disappointment. “They are the only thing worse than a rebellious people—they are willing, even enthusiastic, slaves, fit only for satisfying the Orb's hunger.” He smiled grimly. “We could not begin the new order,” Abe said, “but we will exact justice upon the old."
"Justice? Sounds more like revenge."
Abe shrugged. “Revenge and justice are nothing more than words, two sides of the same coin.” He looked at Scrornuck and again smiled. “Although we admit that after what this creature did to us, we get a certain pleasure from knowing it will never see Miss Nalia again."
"What?” Scrornuck cried, “you promised..."
"—that when she emerges from the Orb, you could leave,” Abe finished. “But nobody emerges from the Orb—there is a great hunger at its heart, all that remains of its creator, and it consumes all who enter."
"You lying son of a bitch!"
"We did not lie—we merely let you hear what you wanted to hear.” Abe's voice became soft, almost fatherly. “Here is some advice, though it will do you little good: never trust a man in a black mask.” He turned back to Jape. “As for you, Phelps, we find even greater satisfaction in knowing that your incompetence is finally bringing justice to your world. You did not understand the workings of the technolepathy device when you meddled on world 274, you did not understand when you arrived here, and still you do not understand."
"I didn't even know there was an Orb on 274 until yesterday."
"A Ranger should know it takes more than politics to cause a red-level disturbance. But you never bothered to learn that Dolph the Eighth was a telepath, and you never found his technolepathy device. And when you gave him a certain drug..."
"The consultants at Ranger Control advised it,” Jape said.
"And you believed them. You have all this book-learning, but when it comes to real knowledge, the kind that comes from experience, you are a babe in the woods. You believed Ranger Control because they were the authorities. Did you ask what experience they had with telepathy?"
Jape shook his head sheepishly.
"By now you know what the drug did. It made a weak telepath much stronger, made the device far more powerful, and ultimately made the crossing a catastrophe for two worlds. You could have left things alone..."
"You were held captive,” Jape protested. “I had to do something."
"You had to experiment. That is your weakness, Phelps, and that is how you have doomed your world. When we arrived here, the technolepathy device was so weak that it could not be moved, let alone fed. Lacking the instruments, we could not have found a natural telepath to stabilize it and make it more powerful. If you had done nothing, the crossing would have been uneventful. But you, ever the academic, ever the researcher—you found a natural telepath, you found the device, and you could not resist the temptation to experiment. And when you brought Miss Nalia to the device, what happened?"
"She became more powerful."
"As did the Orb, allowing us to move it, feed it, and bring it to the Cast Quarter to connect with her a second time."
"You bastard! You gave her that pill!” Scrornuck said accusingly.
"Indeed we did,” Abe said. “The same pill your master used in his previous experiment on 274. It made Miss Nalia far more powerful, did it not?"
Jape nodded.
"And then?” Abe demanded. “Twice you united the telepath and the device, twice they both became more powerful, twice the timequake potential increased. Did you learn from your experiments? No, you brought her here, and let her unite with it two more times! The instrument goes from green to yellow, to orange, to red, and still the brilliant Ranger Phelps wants to shove the telepath into the device and see what happens!” Abe leaned back in his chair, a look of complete satisfaction on his face. “This is far better revenge than we could have ever hoped for. Your annoying bodyguard dies, knowing he has lost his true love, your world suffers a fatal timequake, and it is all the fault of an inept Ranger who is too clever for his own good.” He smiled, an oily, sarcastic smile that made Scrornuck want to rip what remained of his face to pieces. “We thought we would have to create this disruption, but you did all the heavy lifting for us. Mission accomplished. Deliver our regards to your masters."
"Abe,” Jape pleaded, “how can you do this? Don't you remember who you are?"
"Who do you believe us to be?"
The challenge caught Jape off-guard, and he was silent for a moment before tentatively answering. “You are Ansel Brautigan Matthews, the Ninth Ranger—aren't you?"
"We no longer answer to that name,” Abe said. “We now prefer to be called ‘Adolph Brian.’ If your masters do not execute you the moment you arrive, you will have ten years to think about it."
Abe sat in his ratty chair, counting down toward the stream crossing. Despite Jape's repeated pleading, he said nothing. At times, when the electric crackling and buzzing of the Orb lessened, Scrornuck heard him humming softly, the same old song:
"I just want to hurt you like the world has hurt me."
Jape struggled to loosen the ropes securing his wrists. He was unsuccessful—Abe knew quite well what weapons a Ranger carried and had made sure the only thing Jape could reach was the button on the Traveler that would take him home.
The Captain rocked uneasily from one foot to the other, praying softly and rubbing a small silver Dragon that she wore as a necklace. Scrornuck saw confusion in her eyes, between loyalty to the “True Guest” and fear that something very bad was about to happen.
Scrornuck squirmed, trying without success to loosen his bonds. He was hungry and thirsty, his arms and legs felt like lead, the pods on his back itched furiously, and his bladder was ready to burst. As much as he hated to consider the possibility, it looked like Jape had finally been beaten. It would take a miracle to save them now.
Well, he thought, that's what miracles are for. He flexed his leg muscles, trying to keep the blood circulating, and waited.
The miracle arrived quietly. The discharges of energy from the Orb diminished, until the surface of the violet ball became mirror-smooth. Then a spark of lightning appeared from the side of the Orb that only Scrornuck could see. Thin as a string, it hesitated, like a snake's tongue tasting the air, before dropping gracefully among the soldiers of Draggott's army. Scrornuck struggled to see as the spark writhed among the soldiers, gently touching the heads of several before finding its quarry.
Scrornuck's dragon eyes recognized the soldier—he had acted strangely the day before, firing his arrow straight up rather than attacking. The man's helmet split in half and fell away as the spark caressed his head, gently mussing his hair, slowly teasing out what looked like a piece of black ribbon. When the ribbon stood vertically, nearly two feet long and flapping like a flag in the wind, the purple-white thread neatly snatched it from the man's head and snapped back to the Orb. As the soldier collapsed, apparently dead, the spark disappeared into the Orb, leaving only a small circular ripple.
The Orb's surface resumed its churning and sizzling—but not for long. Soon, the surface again calmed, the light at the Orb's center brightened, the sizzling again ceased. In its silence and steady glow, the Orb appeared to be preparing itself for action, almost as if taking a deep breath.
Breaking the silence with a crackling roar, the Orb's surface erupted. Dozens, then hundreds, then nearly a thousand thin bolts of lighting shot from the violet ball. They crossed, tangled, wrapped around each other, each one seeming to seek out a specific member of the slave army. The threads of energy split helmets, danced about the warriors’ heads, made their hair stand on end, and slowly teased out pieces of black, ribbon-like material. When the ribbons stood between a foot and a yard high, the sparks snapped back to the Orb, each carrying its precious cargo. The fluid within the Orb became a storm of black snow, swirling wildly on the violet-white currents. A few at first, then in ranks, the soldiers collapsed.
"So much for your army!” Scrornuck shouted.
Abe shrugged, unconcerned.
Minutes passed in silence as the Orb's surface again became glassily smooth and the flickering purple-white light within became brighter and steadier. Then, suddenly, Jape, the Captain and the dozen guards who stood on the scaffold turned as one to face Abe and spoke in perfect unison: “Lord Draggott, prepare to be joined to your army."
"Huh?” Scrornuck stared at Jape, who shrugged, equally surprised.
The guards had seen enough. They sprinted down the stairs in panic, leaving only Abe and the Captain standing their ground.
For a third time, the Orb seemed to take a deep breath. Then Abe made a muted gargling noise and, appearing to fight desperately against whatever was pulling him, rose from his chair and staggered toward the Orb. A bolt of blue-white lightning the thickness of a man's thigh slithered out to meet him. The gargling became a scream as the energy engulfed him, the lightning bolt splitting into hundreds of fine threads that licked about his face and head like flames. Slowly, looking at first like a trick of the shadows, tiny bits of something that looked like black ribbon appeared around Abe's eyes. As if blowing in a mad wind, the ribbons stretched and fluttered wildly, growing to be four, five, almost ten feet long, constantly teased by the lightning. Energies tore at his robes, making them smoke. More bits of black ribbon emerged from his ears, mouth and nose, along with trickles of blood. As Abe ran out of breath, the false nose melted. His eyes were pushed from their sockets, the real eye dangling against his cheek, the glass one rolling across the scaffold to stop at Scrornuck's feet.
Enveloped in crackling electricity, his face melting, Abe somehow found breath for a final shriek that was more felt than heard—and then the top of his head blew off, releasing a tangle of multicolored ribbons. Strings of purple lightning quickly carried the ribbons into the Orb, and for an instant, a dense black tangle whipped around in the swirling fluid. Then, as the ribbons dissolved into the Orb's black snowstorm and the last of the lightning-bolts withdrew, Abe's body collapsed in a pool of blood.
The Captain stared at her dead master, head bowed, rubbing the silver image of Spafu and muttering supplications, as if expecting the Friendly Dragon to restore Abe's life. Slowly, she looked up, focusing a gaze of pure hatred upon Scrornuck. “Demon!” she hissed, letting the Dragon drop into her shirt. As she strode purposely toward her captive, she raised the long, ornate knife. “This is all your fault!"
"Me? I'm not the one who..."
"Silence, blasphemer!” She held the knife in both hands, letting its point graze his chest. “You withheld from Spafu what was rightly his! You brought this curse upon us!"
"Sheeyit, not again! That lizard couldn't curse his own—"
The Captain shrieked an incoherent curse and plunged the knife into Scrornuck's heart. Blood poured forth, covering the knife, drenching her hands, running down her arms, dripping from her elbows. His vision faded, his hands and feet went cold and numb, and he slumped against the stake, feeling nothing but the cold steel slashing and tearing. Then, even the pain faded and there was nothingness.
Sensation returned slowly—something in his chest that was at once freezing and burning, then a warming in his arms and legs, and finally sound and vision. The Captain knelt at his feet, muttering as she untied the ropes that had bound his ankles to the stake. “At last, at last Spafu will have his sacrifice.” She threw the rope aside and groped at the boots, looking for some way to remove them.
"Hey, bitch!"
he bellowed,
"I'm not dead yet!"
He kicked—hard—with his right leg, sending the Captain flying.
She landed in a heap near the bloody remains of her master, staring in disbelief at the spiked, horned, blood-covered, unkillable monstrosity.
"Demon! What in the name of the Dragon are you?!"
"I'm...” A sarcastic answer formed on his lips, but he caught himself. Sarcasm wouldn't help here. In a soft voice, he said, “I'm a Protector, Captain. I guess I'm a lot like you."
She, too, paused, not expecting such an answer. “A Protector? Like a Guard?” He nodded. She rose to her knees, confused. “But Lord Draggott said you were sent to destroy our sacred way of life."
"Do you still believe him?"
"He is the True Guest,” she insisted, getting to her feet. “I saw him arrive. I was between the Standing Stones when the air shimmered around me, and he appeared from nowhere, just as the sacred scrolls said."
"Would a True Guest order you to kill?"
She shivered. “No. I've studied the scrolls since I was a child, and they say it's wrong to harm anyone."
Scrornuck's eyes met hers. “He spoke of destroying the world. Would a real Guest do that?"
She shook her head sadly and broke the eye-contact, staring down at her feet. “It all seemed so
right
when he appeared, just the way the prophecies said. And we've been waiting so long for the Guests to come."
"He was no Guest, Captain. He came here to teach killing, to make you do things you know are wrong—and in the end he sought to destroy your world. My friend and I came to stop him. Release us so we can do our job."
She got to her feet and stood unmoving, her eyes going back and forth between the charred and bloody remains of her master and the creature that faced her. “But how can I trust a...” She stopped, unsure of what word to use.
"A monster?” he finished. “Listen to me, Captain. People aren't always what they look like. Draggott was no Guest, and I'm no demon."