White Devil Mountain (26 page)

“Did an earthquake do this?”

But Lourié quickly realized it hadn’t been that. At the bottom of a great cone-shaped subsidence the far side of which he couldn’t make out, an enormous dome-like tent of what could’ve been vinyl or metal had come into view.

“What in the world is that?”

Terror wrapped around his heart, threatening to stop it. Still, his hands and feet didn’t halt. The protrusions and cracks in the rock proved useful for hand- and footholds. He descended a good five hundred yards.

At last he understood the scale of the tent. It was roughly the size of a small pyramid. Standing fifty yards high, it was over a hundred yards long. The material looked like metal.

He arrived at the bottom. All the while checking his surroundings for any sound or sign of anyone else, Lourié went over to the tent. There was no way in or out of it. Reaching for the bottom edge of the metal covering, he tried to pull it up. It lifted without any resistance. A dazzling light illuminated the boy’s legs below the knees. Bending over, he squeezed through. There was no hesitation.

Light enveloped him from head to toe. Countless lights supported by iron frames were brightly illuminating an object sunk in the stone floor about ten yards up ahead. Its overall outline resembled the planet Saturn stretched out horizontally. Only it wasn’t a ring that surrounded the elliptical craft; it was a disk. Both the craft and the disk were twisted at the point of some long-ago impact, crumpled and looking like the slightest push would make them squeal like an accordion. With one glance Lourié noticed that the crumpled portion of the top of the craft gaped open.

About sixty feet up, the saucer was connected to the ground by what looked to be a simple elevator. When the boy approached it, the stench of oil struck him. Apparently it used an old gasoline-powered motor. At the very least, when this craft crashed here, the Nobility’s civilization could manage no more than this. Locating an operating lever on the side of the greasy motor, he gave it a pull. It began to whine. It performed just as it had ten thousand years earlier. In light of the restoration that had taken place in the castle, fixing up one small motor probably hadn’t been a problem.

Getting into a box with an iron-mesh bottom, Lourié pushed a button set in the wall. With a rasping sound the elevator began to climb. Moving at considerable speed, it soon reached the top.

From the elevator door to the crumpled front of the craft, iron plates had been laid out. More than the thought of how much effort that had entailed, it was the thickness of the saucer skin Lourié saw during his ascent that made his eyes bug in their sockets. It was like gold leaf. It was less than four hundredths of an inch thick. Forget what would happen if it collided with something; it seemed as if the approach of a candle would be enough to melt it like lead. Yet it felt overwhelmingly strong beneath his feet.

The damaged portion had a hole in it large enough for two adults to pass through side by side. Halting, Lourié fought to control his breathing. Fear of the unknown and unmistakable excitement burned in his chest.

Sufficient light filled the damaged section of the interior. Apparently the crew’s sense of sight didn’t differ greatly from that of human beings. Judging from the form of the foe he’d encountered in the great hall above, he thought the craft wouldn’t be much different from one built for humans, and things were pretty much as he expected. The passageway and walls were made of the same material as the saucer, which didn’t seem incongruous. However, the tilt of the craft was steep, and Lourié quickly abandoned plans to climb up higher. As there were no handrails, he kept both feet planted firmly and followed the passageway lower—descending into the nose of the craft.

Something strange happened after the boy had gone a few yards. It felt as if his body was being pushed against the floor—and the instant he realized the truth, the mystery of it was solved.

It’s creating artificial gravity
, Lourié thought, standing up straight. His body was at an angle, but it stood perpendicular to the floor. Even after ten thousand long years, this thing still worked! The computer that ran the craft had begun to create a comfortable environment for the new “crewman” that’d boarded it.

It came as no surprise there were signs of terrible destruction where it sank into the ground, with the walls cracked or utterly crumpled. It seemed unlikely Lourié would be able to advance any farther. On the right wall of the corridor he spied what appeared to be an elevator. There was a switch to the right of it. Though he pressed the up button, nothing happened. Down. That one lit up with red. Another door into the unknown opened.

The boy’s body trembled. His eyes were agleam.

There was no switch inside. The walls and ceiling were made of a material that might’ve been either glass or plastic. He touched it in a number of places, but there was no response. Thinking for a moment, he said, “The lower deck.”

The ceiling gleamed and the door closed.

“It understands what I say,” Lourié remarked, but he had no time at all for surprise before the door opened.

He thought it must’ve been an error, but the scene outside was different. He’d arrived without even the slightest sensation of moving.

Oddly enough, the lower deck was less damaged than the front portion. The elevator was at the center of two intersecting corridors, and there was a door to either side of it.

Standing before the closer one, he commanded, “Open.”

It opened.

Taking a cautious peek inside, Lourié gasped. Something hot bubbled up beneath his feet, and his body quaked violently.

Death Within, Death Without

chapter 3

I

T
he room was stocked with what looked to be weapons. There were row upon row of them, some looking like rifles and pistols; others looking like tubes resembling mortars, long spears, and swords that appeared for all the world to be made of bronze and iron; and others that seemed to be crystals fused together into weapons the use of which was unclear. Dozens of each kind sat on the racks, gleaming. All were probably ready for immediate use.

Lourié’s eye was caught by a small handgun. While swords and spears were commonplace on the Frontier, the much rarer firearms and laser blasters were the object of many a child’s adoration. Keeping his senses keen for signs of anyone else, the boy went over to the rack near the back and reached out for the gun—

The door behind him opened.

As stunned as Lourié was, his body still went into action. There was a space between two racks. Ever since entering the room, he’d had his eyes open for someplace he could hide. Children who lived on the Frontier were wise enough to know there was no telling when or where death might open its maw for them. Hiding himself, he held his breath. His eyes stared straight ahead. If you wanted to look at something too badly, your foe would detect your presence—and that could mean your life.

Heavy footsteps entered the room. From behind them came another set—this one fairly light. The steps of an ordinary human.

A burning curiosity needled Lourié. And it was coupled with fear.

Who the heck is it? Are they with one of those things?

The answers came from the new arrivals.

“This place . . . It’s an arsenal?”

It was a man, his breathing so feeble it seemed it might give out at any moment. It had to be—

“Mr. Crey?”

The blood chilling in his veins, the boy slapped his hand over his own mouth. Where he’d heard the footsteps, he now sensed a malevolent presence. And immediately, the footsteps headed straight for him.

Lourié wasn’t about to sit there and silently await his fate. He dashed farther into the gap. The sound of footsteps continued. His heart seemed like it was going to explode. He could see the far end of the gap. Though he couldn’t be sure, the exit seemed better than staying where he was.

The boy burst from the gap like a person possessed. A black wall loomed before him. The faceless figure had just drawn its longsword with its right hand and what looked like a pistol with its left.

“Lourié? That’s you, isn’t it, squirt?” he heard Crey say behind him.

Why didn’t the boy feel the tiniest bit of relief? Why did he think,
Don’t come near me
?

The pistol-like weapon was trained on his face. Green glass was set in its barrel. This was a weapon the alien that Gilzen defeated hadn’t used—and when it went off, it would be the end of Lourié. The barrel of the gun whipped to the side. Light the same hue as the glass shot out, making a circular stain on the floor about fifteen or twenty feet beyond the boy. The stain was glowing. Once the light faded, the floor had been burned through in the shape of the stain. The barrel was jerked back toward him, and Lourié was paralyzed. However, his foe returned the weapon to its place on its belt.

Lourié understood his foe’s intent. It was trying to intimidate him. It pursued its prey and frightened it, and when its prey was then powerless to resist, the thing would probably bring its sword down with evil satisfaction.

The enemy fell back. It speculated that it had the boy thoroughly cowed. Turning its back to him, it went over to a rack of rifles, took one down, and braced it against its shoulder. It was weird how close to a human it was in its movements.

“Don’t do it.”

As those words were spoken, the figure that stepped between Lourié and the barrel of the gun grabbed the weapon and twisted it upward.

“Mr. Crey?”

“Run for it!”

Though the face that turned toward Lourié was much paler than he remembered, it was definitely that of the outlaw he knew so well. The enemy used the second arm on its right side to draw the sword from its hip.

“Go!”

Lourié ran like mad for the door. In the doorway, he turned and looked. The faceless figure was just stabbing its blade into Crey’s chest.

“
Mr. Crey!
”

Closing his eyes, the boy dashed out the door. After that, he didn’t really remember what happened. His nose slammed into something. Lourié could feel blood gushing from it as he fell flat on his back. He was in a corridor in the castle.

The boy opened his eyes. Another of the faceless figures stood there. That wasn’t all that strange. This was their “home,” after all. Without the slightest hesitation, the creature thrust the sword from its hip down toward Lourié’s face.

–

“Return,” Gilzen chanted before setting the summoning charm shaped like a reverse swastika on the table. He took a deep breath. This was the result of his extreme state of concentration. He sensed a presence moving behind him. Turning, Gilzen looked down by his feet. There was only one being who could enter his research center despite the guard sensors.

“Mother dearest—what brings you here?”

The shadow replied in the voice of an old but still sharp woman, saying, “Where has that man gone?”

“Are you referring to D?”

“Indeed I am—ah, that you say that name so flippantly! Your confidence always runs to excess.”

“I do not take the man lightly.”

Selecting a test tube from the equipment and tools littering the large table, Gilzen held it up by his eye. It was filled with a dark red liquid. Something a Noble could never mistake—blood.

“That is why I work so feverishly to accomplish my great desire in an expedient fashion. This serum should take care of everything. My dreams—and those of the damnable Sacred Ancestor.”

The shadow fell silent. It was a heavy silence, as if she’d lost her voice from the very start.

Her next words were unveiled as Gilzen opened the locker beside him and took out a syringe. “Do you intend to repeat the same foolish sin, Duke? I came to stop that. Stop already. The Sacred Ancestor saw success but once. All of his later efforts were ultimately in vain. Not even you can hope—”

“The Sacred Ancestor was too fixated on human beings.”

Gilzen raised the syringe full of blood before his eye and gazed before him. He stared not at the syringe, but at the black curtain that loomed behind it.

“He met with a single success,” said the Nobleman, “but that was no more than the result of a coincidence. Therefore, he was never able to accomplish it again. His ideal cannot be reached with humans, you see. That’s what I always asserted. We must seek the possibility outside, I said. What good fortune we had—they came to us, did they not? Like so!”

As if crazed, Gilzen grabbed the cord that hung by his side and pulled it. The black curtain that towered before him parted down the middle.

Behind it was a glassed-in room. A bizarre figure was hanging from the ceiling. Suspended by wires, the body of the four-armed creature was stained with a hue that could only be described as bluish green, though that was far from accurate. Its body closely resembled that of a human, but its muscles were braided like wires and the location and form of its joints were hardly what we would call normal. That probably determined the directions its limbs could turn. Its face was as long as a horse’s, but sunken in the center. Compared to its strangely large and almost perfectly circular eyes, its nose and the cruciform split that was apparently its mouth were very small, like a baby’s, so that while the teeth visible in its maw were keen as a beast’s, they could actually be termed cute due to their tiny size.

“With no help from anyone, I captured these invaders from outer space. Even now we don’t know where they’re from, but I saw the tremendous value in them. Their value not as invaders, but as volunteers from the stars to help us carve open the future.”

Gilzen rapped mightily against the glass with the scepter in his hand.

“This is blood. We Nobles aren’t a new race that suddenly came into being ten thousand years ago. Our origins go back far earlier, to the time of Earth’s creation, making our kind ancient in comparison to the human race. I don’t know if it’s because of that or for some other reason, but at that point in time ten millennia ago, our species was already losing its vitality. Only the finest among us noticed it: myself and
him
. That is, the Sacred Ancestor. However, he and I took the possibilities of the Nobility in different directions. He tried to create a fusion of human and Noble, while I wished to mix our blood with that of aliens. My experiment had begun with their arrival. And for a while I was successful. Nobles injected with the alien blood I developed exhibited strength unimaginable in our kind.”

“And the Sacred Ancestor couldn’t forgive you for that,” the shadow woman said. It was the tone of one recounting a bitter memory. “He was ready to dispose of all the new Nobles you created and to hurl you and this castle into the pits of eternal destruction.”

“Before he could, I used superadvanced technology acquired from the aliens to seal the castle away in ‘memory time,’ and the Sacred Ancestor changed my punishment to entombment deep in the earth.” Gilzen looked down at the shadow at his feet. “All because of something you said. Mother, the Sacred Ancestor complied with your wishes. Why was that?”

“Ah,” the shadow said, writhing as if it quaked. “Please don’t ask me that. That I cannot tell you. I merely tried to save you. I am thankful to the Sacred Ancestor.”