The Path to Loss (Approaching Infinity Book 4) (5 page)

“It keeps you sharp, though. You said so yourself.”

“No, I said it makes me mean,” Jav corrected.

This time Raus didn’t have an immediate reply. Finally he said in a tone incongruously grave, “Someday you’ll know the answer, Jav, and you’ll be able to do something about it.”

Jav was puzzled by Raus’s response. There was something cryptic about it—something knowing?—that kept him from letting it go immediately. He had to force himself to banish his annoyance and to remember that there was no possible way Raus could be responsible for what he was feeling. He hoped there would be fighting soon. That always helped to appease the anger inside him. Well, that wasn’t true exactly, but applying his fists was one of the only ways to effectively release that anger, if only temporarily.

By the time the Viscain column had neared the base of the mountainous outcropping of rock upon which the castle sat, a retinue of eight hundred men had descended the winding road leading from it, and filled the space that joined the road to the baked plain. Though arrayed with swords, spears, and some crude, long-barreled firearms, all of the locals were bronze-skinned and naked except for metal ornamentation in a variety of styles. Three men at the head of the throng were further adorned with willowy sheaves of brightly colored silk and were either leaders or diplomats.

“Are you really going to speak with them?” Hilene said to Jav.

“Yes, Hilene. I’m curious about that energy signature, and I’d like to give them a chance to display it. An occasional challenge is a welcome change, don’t you think?”

She shrugged.

“Well, as First General, I say it is. It’s a good exercise. Striking before the opposition has a chance to defend itself is an effective strategy, but not one we can count on every time. Striving makes you stronger. And you might learn something.”

“Yes, General Holson,” she said.

Her acquiescence, so hard to come by for most, was not lost on him.

When they were still fifty meters away, Jav halted Gran Mid, leapt down easily without a break to continue walking as if he’d simply stepped down from a low stair. Hilene moved to accompany him, shoulder to shoulder, but still didn’t touch the ground. Gran Pham and Gran Lej sidled up alongside Gran Mid’s right and left respectively. Neither Raus nor Icsain stirred from their places. Nils Porta hovered in the air above Jav and Hilene, ready.

One of the local leaders, who was covered in pale yellow silk, broke away from the contingent of men to approach Jav. Close at his back were the other two—one in pale blue, the other in green—who, despite the look of welcome upon their fellow’s face, were unabashedly suspicious.

“Greetings,” the man in yellow said with open arms and a smile. “I am Gim Peshil, the Light Smith. Welcome to my territory. But these are strange Shields you possess. Where do you come from?”

Jav didn’t respond immediately, and Peshil’s smile fluctuated. The word
shields
, which his mind accurately translated, having made sense of the local language prior to landing through intercepted broadcasts, turned over like a molasses whirlwind, slow, sticky, and inescapable.

Before Peshil became too flustered, though, Jav recovered his wits, not at all sure what the mental lapse meant, and thrust his thumb back over his shoulder, pointing to the Vine.

“I don’t know what
shields
you’re referring to,” Jav said, unconsciously emphasizing the word, “but surely you can see that we’ve come from out of the sky. We’re here to take your world.”

Peshil’s face settled back into a tentative smile. “Well, if you can do as you boast, perhaps we might strike a deal.”

Jav replied to Peshil’s meaningful pause with more silence.

“You-you see,” Peshil said, “we all have many rivals here on Thrax Palonis. Alliances are critical to successful politics. I’m sure that we can give you something that will make it worth your while.”

Jav shook his head. “Didn’t you hear me? We’ve come here to
take
your world. The Viscain Empire knows no politics.”

“I don’t understand,” Peshil said, shaking his head.

“
Enough of this
,” cried the man in green, to Peshil’s left.

Jav cocked his head, his earlier annoyance at Raus’s comment tickled and rekindled by the man’s tone. Without seeming to move, Jav was back and sideways of the man in green, his right and the other’s left shoulders forming a ninety degree angle. He paused there as if listening to what the man might have to offer, but all that came was a change in the man’s face as it contorted with rage at being mocked. The semi-transparent image of something alien began to emit from the center of the man’s brow.

Jav raised the index finger of his right hand directly before the man’s face as if to bring up an important point. He sighed, deciding. “Not for you.” The fingers of his right hand snapped into bent, rigid
claws
. While Dark, he had no nails, no need of any. His claws consisted solely of his impossibly strong, curled fingers.

There was no wind up for the backhand. With a strange dull popping sound, Jav’s hand caved in the man’s face with splash of red and gray which obscured and extinguished the image of the beast coming forth. Jav’s mastery of Approaching Infinity, or AI, enabled him to create space—where there was none—with his mind, almost instantly build up momentum which approached infinity, then eliminate that space to strike with a mass that was supernormal. This was augmented further by his ranking of 30 standard gravities and further still by the Kaiser Bones.

“Hilene,” Jav said calmly, “that was. . . impetuous of me. As I said, I want to give them a chance to display whatever it is that Scanlan detected, so you are to stand down.”

“Yes, General Holson,” she said with no hint of anything but obedience.

“
Impetuous
?” Peshil’s remaining comrade cried incredulously.

“Nils!” Jav called.

“Sir!” Nils responded from above and dropped down slightly.

“Now hold on, hold on,” Peshil said, waving his hands.

“You’ll not
hold on
to your territory like that, Gim Peshil,” the other said backing away hurriedly, taking his eyes off of Jav and Hilene only to glance at Nils. He wasn’t retreating though. From the center of his brow, just as with the other, the image of a beast began to pour out. “I am Baro Suunts, the Many-Scaled,” he shouted, “and I will not tolerate insolence of any order!” The image took on solidity as it grew to gigantic proportions until the Generals of the Viscain were face to face with what could only be described as a dragon.

Baro Suunts stood thirty meters tall with his great, lashing tail doubling his overall length. He was, uniformly thick of body, probably fifteen meters broad at the shoulders and haunches, and was sheathed entirely in slate-blue scales like dinner plates. Sword teeth overflowed his elongated maw, and crusted ridges shadowed his electric blue eyes with their vertical yellow slits. Spines connected by a gray, vein-laced membrane fanned out from his back to form undulating wings. The men that had accompanied Peshil and Suunts backed away to allow Suunts more freedom and to avoid being crushed.

Suunts stepped over Gim Peshil towards Jav and Hilene, neither of whom budged. He made as if to swipe at the two invaders with the talons of his gnarled paw, but those were sheared away when they came in contact with Nils Porta.

Besides converting his bone to alloyed steel, Nils’s Artifact enabled him to spin his four-pointed middle and outside sections independently along the horizontal axis of his inhuman body, turning him into a mobile, three-bladed buzz saw. Suunts snatched his paw away, blood streaming from the stumps of two digits removed farther down. Porta zipped forward and rammed his whirling blades into Suunts’s broad, reptilian face, but buzzed ineffectually there. Suunts had closed his eyes and though Porta had some success casting away scales and a thin spray of blood mixed with underflesh, a strange reaction was taking place where the blades dug in. A gray substance foamed out as fast as Porta cut through, but soon Porta’s blades were mucked-up and slowing down.

Porta thought that the heavy bones of Suunts’s face were mostly responsible for preventing him from crushing through to shred the brain beyond, so he backed away, spun himself clean of the hardening gray substance, and proceeded in a powerful arc into Suunts’s belly. He met with the same luck there, however. Worse, the gray foaming substance coated him to such a degree now that he could no longer maintain his spin. For a moment Porta remained there, stuck in the expanded bulk of Suunts’s stomach which bristled with fresh, hardened scales, until his own weight dislodged him and he collapsed inert to the ground with a heavy clang.

Hilene shot Jav a glance. He stood there, arms folded and impassive, acknowledged her, but gave no indication to move.

Porta exploded. Suunts threw his head back in coarse, booming laughter, unaware of Porta’s particulate mass rising up to enter his open mouth. Suunts choked suddenly on the grit rubbing against his throat, and coughed several times. He cocked his head, sensing something not right inside him. He glanced down at Hilene then at Jav, whose imperious posture made his horny features settle into a frown. His eyes went wide suddenly and blood began to seep from the bottom lids. Then it began to run from his slit nostrils and the narrow holes that were his ears and finally from out of his mouth, his lower jaw slack and hanging open. Suunts swayed. His eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed, not to move again. His eyeballs disintegrated as Porta’s Cloud of Gnats poured out of both sockets to recombine into the Porta Fighter.

Hilene turned again to face Jav. “May I, General Holson?” she said, referring to Gim Peshil.

Jav shook his head. Our Mr. Peshil is no longer here. Jav relaxed his arms as Hilene glanced back and forth between him and Peshil. She shot forward for Peshil and passed through him, which was not unusual for her, but he merely flickered.

“A hologram?” she blurted. “But their technology…”

Jav had never seen Hilene quite so flustered. Without looking, he leapt up and back, landing squarely upon Gran Mid’s brow. “He called himself the Light Smith, remember? Clear the way, Hilene.”

She moved through the air to join him.

With their leaders killed or impotent, the eight hundred men milled about, unsure of what to do. Not a one with a firearm put it to use. Jav addressed the unmoving, strangely stoic image of Peshil, standing more or less where he had been before Suunts had attacked.

“Peshil, I don’t know if you can hear me, and it doesn’t really matter. Your planet is doomed.
You
are doomed. Summon all the help you like. It won’t make any difference in the end.

“Gran Mid!
Fire
!”

Gran Mid raised its ivory head, spread its jaws, and belched liquid fire out through massive, inward-curving fangs. The fire washed over Suunt’s giant corpse and engulfed every last one of Peshil’s group, blasting the meat from their bones almost instantaneously.

A light shone in the pits of Jav’s hollow skull eyes, giving rise to the tell-tale, high-pitched whine that initiated his control of the dead. None of the charred skeletons fell. All stood straight as if suspended by invisible marionette strings. Their weapons, no matter what they had been, were restructured by the Kaiser Bones into uniform pole swords, weapons that were ninety centimeters blade and ninety centimeters hilt. The group of them shifted into a perfect column of ten across by eighty deep and proceeded up the road they’d come down, back up towards the castle.

Suunts left no remains. Jav noted that it probably wasn’t because of having borne the brunt of Gran Mid’s fire, either.

Jav turned to address Raus on Gran Pham and Icsain within Gran Lej. “You two stay here and ensure the Palace’s safety. Porta, you’re with them. Hilene and I will go on ahead to clear out Peshil’s residence.”

Raus nodded. Gran Lej waved in response.

Gran Mid slid steadily behind the group of blackened skeletons, themselves a single unit and serpent-like. As before, Hilene flew alongside Jav who stood atop Gran Mid’s head. As they climbed the road to the castle and their vantage improved the vast lava sea opened up below them to their left. Viscous glowing orange bubbles of molten rock popped with a slow but inevitable repetition and sent a fine mask of smoke into the air. Looming ahead was the castle itself. Its spindly black arms of porous volcanic rock made it seem frail, but as they neared, the sheer size of the castle dismissed this impression.

“How did you know?” Hilene asked. “That Peshil was gone, I mean.”

Jav shrugged. “Practicing AI makes me sensitive to spatial relationships. I felt him leave.”

“General Holson, I have asked before, but still you have not answered me. Why will you not teach me Approaching Infinity theory?”

“Not this again,” Jav said, sighing.

“And why not?”

“Hilene, I’ve seen you use the Spear Hand at practice and on the field. When you use it, your technique is excellent. You would make a very good sparring partner, in fact. But your martial prowess, while impressive, is moot. You can breach any barrier, bypass any armor, and kill effortlessly. There’s no need to teach you Approaching Infinity. Besides, it makes me feel a little safer to know that I have
some
defense against your otherwise indefensible power.”

“Do you fear me then, General Holson?” She sounded hurt.

“Hilene, you are the
only
thing I fear.”

“You’re serious.” Her voice was low and breathy. It was right and appropriate for others to feel this way, but she would have to show Jav Holson that he had no need of any such concern.

“Well, then,” she said, coming out of her reverie and brightening, “perhaps I could be your sparring partner.”

Jav had the sense that there would be no escaping her. This both pleased and annoyed him. He liked her, and he couldn’t deny a sense of pride at being the focus of her attention when so many others received nothing but disdain. Though he hadn’t given up women after Mao Pardine had died forty-four years ago, he had never again allowed himself to form attachments. He felt like his well of affection had dried up and been steadily filled with something dead and rotten. “We’ll see,” he said.