Part 20 (2/2)

His knife flashed in the subzero cold, but whenever he tried to make out his opponent's face, it remained indistinct. Its angles and shadows kept slithering past each other in an indistinguishable blur. And as he s.h.i.+fted and turned and dodged, never quite able to get close enough to inflict any damage, he slowly realized he was actually fighting one of the Magi.

He had fallen asleep inside a programming suite that had been hastily a.s.sembled for him, and when he opened his eyes it was to a series of projections displaying the fragments of protocol he'd pulled out of the Piri Reis's Piri Reis's stacks. His work had been made that much harder by the fact that the programming interfaces hadn't been designed with humans in mind, so he'd had to hack about with the equipment for a while until he had a.s.sembled something he could actually make use of. stacks. His work had been made that much harder by the fact that the programming interfaces hadn't been designed with humans in mind, so he'd had to hack about with the equipment for a while until he had a.s.sembled something he could actually make use of.

But not too quickly, of course. That would never do.

The alert - a steady, almost subsonic thrumming - was not unexpected. A few days had pa.s.sed since they had departed Ironbloom, and Honeydew had warned him that, although they would be reaching the culmination of their deceleration before very long, he should strap himself into a gel-chair provided for him. This made little sense, since deceleration would normally be followed by weightlessness; nevertheless he strapped himself in, once the alarm began to sound, and waited.

After half an hour of waiting in the gel-chair, Corso started to get bored. Perhaps, he thought, they were going to transport him down to the surface of some other world in the Night's End system, somewhere the derelict was presumably kept.

But instead the weightlessness was suddenly replaced by gravity somewhat stronger than the point-eight Terran gees of Redstone. He knew they weren't accelerating, so he guessed they were in an artificial gravity field of the kind used regularly by the Shoal.

He pa.s.sed the time considering his options. It was impossible to be sure if Honey dew believed one word of his excuses, but ever since his encounter with the Piri Reis Piri Reis he'd been left very much to his own devices. he'd been left very much to his own devices.

Yet, instead of working on rebuilding the protocols he'd sabotaged, he'd spent his time trying to work out what had happened to the Piri Reis, Piri Reis, and if there was any purpose to the baffling alterations to its core systems. and if there was any purpose to the baffling alterations to its core systems.

Corso eventually levered himself out of the gel-chair and stood upright, feeling as if a million tiny hands were trying to drag him down onto the floor. Before very long, two Bandati entered the suite and pulled him away from where he'd been working. The Bandati lacked interpreters, so they were reduced to clicking at him futilely for a few moments before grabbing him by the shoulders and marching him along the s.h.i.+p's corridors.

Game's up, he thought. he thought. They know I tricked them. They know I tricked them.

He soon realized he was being led back to the docking bays where the Piri Reis Piri Reis was stored, but this time they took him to a much larger bay that was entirely empty, bar an enormous sculpture of jagged black gla.s.s that had to be the size of a city block. was stored, but this time they took him to a much larger bay that was entirely empty, bar an enormous sculpture of jagged black gla.s.s that had to be the size of a city block.

Only it wasn't a sculpture, he registered after a few moments' contemplation. It was a s.h.i.+p of a kind he'd never seen before.

A hatch opened in the side of the craft, and something emerged. Something big, big, and mean-looking. It reminded him of an elephant crossed with a sea-urchin - a very angry one, too. It loped rapidly towards them, as if intending to attack, and Corso developed an overwhelming urge to turn and run the other way. and mean-looking. It reminded him of an elephant crossed with a sea-urchin - a very angry one, too. It loped rapidly towards them, as if intending to attack, and Corso developed an overwhelming urge to turn and run the other way.

'Stay very still,' said a voice from behind his shoulder.

He'd started struggling with his two guards, desperate to flee to some small, safe dark corner where he could hide from big, angry-looking monsters. Somewhere in his panic he'd realized there was a tiny figure perched on top of the monster, but that observation didn't make him any less terrified.

He managed to twist around to see who had spoken, despite the firm grip the two guards still had on him. Honeydew was standing directly behind him, staring past Corso towards the monster. He turned back and watched as it came stamping to within a few metres of them before finally, mercifully, coming to a halt.

Corso found himself confronted by a vast, dripping maw, flanked by twin in-curving tusks. A spiked carapace encompa.s.sed the upper body of the monster, which looked capable of skewering a Tyrannosaurus rex, a.s.suming the T-rex lacked the good sense to turn and run on sight. What had resembled an elephant's trunk from a distance now revealed itself to be a tight knot of about a dozen long and narrow tentacles dangling down between the creature's eyes. Some of these appendages reached out and slithered messily across Corso's face and shoulders.

He nearly dislocated one of his shoulders trying to pull himself free. If Honeydew was trying to scare the total c.r.a.p out of him, he was doing a fantastic job.

After several seconds of this unwanted attention, the monster did the same to each of the two guards, the long, wet feelers playing across their upper torsos. Then the monster took a step backward, the deck vibrating under the broad stumps that were its four legs.

Corso now had a better view of the diminutive figure perched high on the monster's back, and seated just behind the broad expanse of its skull. It looked tiny and helpless, but clearly possessed some close relations.h.i.+p with the creature it sat atop. It was covered in a fine fuzz of hair the same colour as its mount, and it similarly sported a rope of facial tentacles. Its eyes appeared like small pink dots, and it slumped across the monster's back as if resting after a hard day's toil. When those eyes briefly settled on Corso, he had the feeling there was little or no intelligence behind them.

'This is Emissary KaTiKiAn-Sha,' Honeydew muttered into Corso's ear.

'What?' Corso gasped. 'Which one?'

'The unpleasantly large one,' Honeydew replied quietly. 'The smaller one is its mate, the male of the species. Please, be polite when you answer her questions. Our lives are in danger.'

'Your lives?' Corso hissed, his voice cracking. 'What the h.e.l.l do you want from lives?' Corso hissed, his voice cracking. 'What the h.e.l.l do you want from me me?'

'Answer the Emissary's questions,' Honeydew replied, his electronic voice still pitched low. 'And, please, be very, very, very polite.'

The h.e.l.l you you say, Corso almost replied, then realized to his horror that Honeydew was just as scared as he was. say, Corso almost replied, then realized to his horror that Honeydew was just as scared as he was.

The Emissary mount reached up, with its multi-fingered trunk, to what Corso had at first taken to be a saddle of sorts strapped to its back, just behind its pink-eyed mate. It retrieved a large and bulky microphone that looked distinctly primitive in comparison with the s.p.a.cecraft the Emissary had recently emerged from. The microphone disappeared quickly beneath the tentacles.

A moment later a crackling roar filled the vast empty s.p.a.ce of the bay, before suddenly dropping in volume; but the monstrous baying continued as a savage, guttural howl emerging from the Emissary's mouth, hidden behind its tentacles.

'You!' an electronic voice bellowed over the monster's roar, this simultaneous translation reverberating, too, from the bay's distant walls. 'I am Emissary! Of great anger and volume! We bring salvation! And light! I ride with my lover to find G.o.d! Tell me! Where. Is G.o.d!'

The Emissary paused, and then Corso realized it was asking him a direct question. Its ma.s.sive, boulder-sized head had swivelled to stare straight at him with huge, angry eyes.

'I . . . what?' Corso replied weakly.

'Answer,' Honeydew urged quietly from behind.

In the grasp of his guards, Corso twisted to stare at the Bandati agent incredulously.

'Please,' Honeydew whispered.

'I ... I don't know what it wants me to say'

What happened next was something that would fuel Corso's nightmares for the rest of his life.

The Emissary took a step forward and, reaching out with its knotted tentacles, grabbed one of the two Bandati guards, effortlessly lifting him into the air. The guard struggled desperately, and Corso tensed, ready to make a break for it.

'Lucas.' It was Honeydew, still behind him. 'Believe me when I say she can run much faster than you. Just answer her question.'

The Emissary then took a half-step back, and ripped the struggling warrior's head from his shoulders in one swift movement. Corso gaped, appalled, as the head hit the deck and rolled to a halt some distance away. The torso was dropped at Corso's feet a second later.

Dark, wine-coloured blood spilled around his feet.

Honeydew's voice was clear in Corso's ear. 'Please answer, Lucas, or we are all all dead. She might not kill anyone else if she finds your answer satisfactory' dead. She might not kill anyone else if she finds your answer satisfactory'

The little b.a.s.t.a.r.d's hiding behind me, Corso realized, as he stared up at the Emissary. Corso realized, as he stared up at the Emissary.

He opened his mouth, but at first he couldn't get anything out. All he could do was stare at the headless corpse slumped at his feet.

'I . . . I . . .' He cleared his throat and started again. 'I . . . G.o.d is . . . here?' he finally stammered, improvising.

The Emissary stared down at him. 'G.o.d? Is here?'

'I ... I suppose he might,' Corso mumbled, completely terrified.

The Emissary reared back to peer over Corso's head. 'You have G.o.d's s.h.i.+p?' she demanded.

This time, Honeydew stepped forward and himself addressed the Emissary.

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