Unbeknownst to him, his arrival had activated a number of ancient devices. Their complex interaction was actually irrelevant. What mattered was the result.
He entered a chamber much larger than the one he had just traversed. Expansive and high-ceilinged, it occupied several stories. The instant before his arrival, a life crystal had fallen from its holder onto what at first glance appeared to be a grotesque sculpture.
But sculptures did not absorb life crystals. Only organics did that. Emitting a deep grinding sound, this one began to move. Powerful articulated limbs jerked and twitched. A skull rose. Organs of sight cleared. Alive again, it shook itself erect and began to survey its surroundings.
Low had his first glimpse of it as soon as he reached the low railing that marked a sudden drop-off. He was standing on a mezzanine overlooking a lower floor some twenty feet below. At the same time it peered up and saw him. A farrago of legs and mouths were linked by a network of exposed ligaments and tendons. There were no bones, no exoskelton, no visible eyes, ears or nostrils. Only mouths and clawed legs.
A guardian didn’t need anything else.
Stretching, it caught sight of him. Eyeless, it focused on the intruder with senses unknown to Low. He took a reflexive step backward.
Contracting its astonishing network of connecting fibers, the creature sprang the full twenty feet from the floor of the lower level to land behind the Commander. If he hadn’t ducked, it would have taken his head off. As he whirled to confront it, eerie moaning sounds arose from the multiplicity of mouths. Gathering its claws beneath it and swaying rhythmically back and forth on innumerable legs, it readied itself to pounce again. It was, he saw now, about the size of a full-grown bull moose.
With the monstrosity blocking the exit, Low was forced to retreat until he was dangerously close to the edge of the drop. Dashing to his right, he felt a cold shiver run through him as the creature immediately skittered sideways to block his path. It was the same when he darted back to his left. He could see no eyes, but it was clearly aware of his presence. Some kind of infrared sensors, perhaps, or something even more remarkable. Sundry mouths opened and closed. In expectation, no doubt, he told himself. He could turn and chance the jump to the lower level, but he had no doubt that the creature would follow.
Somehow he had to get around it. Feinting to his right, he dashed left again. The monster didn’t go for it, matched him step for step. It was not only faster than he, but quicker.
It’s toying with me, he realized suddenly. This wasn’t going to work.
With each sideways sprint the thing came a little closer. Soon he’d have no choice but to turn and take his chances by jumping. Right into the creature’s lair, no doubt. He would only be postponing the inevitable.
Fighting back was out of the question. He had no weapons, it was much too big and there were too many mouths and limbs to avoid. He’d have to get away from it, somehow.
But no matter how he darted and feinted, it continued its inexorable advance, always positioning itself between him and the tunnel. While not necessarily intelligent, it was clearly cognizant of the chamber’s layout. Did it instinctively know where the exit was, or had that information been programmed into it? If the latter, then the monster had been left here for a purpose. To punish defilers of a temple, Low wondered, or to prevent them from advancing any farther?
If he ended up as brute biscuit, an eventuality that loomed as a distinct possibility, the actual explanation would be moot.
How would a legitimate visitor identify himself to such a guardian? Did he have anything on him that might secure passage?
He dragged out the map projector and waved it. “Look, see? Local manufacture. I belong here.” Giving no indication that it either understood or sympathized, the thing maintained its relentless stalk.
In quick succession Low flashed everything he had with him, from the small flashlight on his service belt to the tiny package of antibacterial tissues that was part of every crew kit. In each instance the result was the same: The creature ignored it.
Right or left? Low thought frantically. He’d have to make a choice. Even as he contemplated his rapidly shrinking options, he knew he’d never make it. The thing was too damn fast.
It was clear now why it was taking its time. If by some miracle Low did manage to slip past and make it to the tunnel, the creature would be unable to pursue. It was simply too big. It had been emplaced, or bred, or built to remain forever in this chamber. Its permanent presence here had been decreed from the beginning.
What was so important here that it required such a guardian? He was going to die without ever finding out.
The map projector was compact and heavy. Taking aim, he threw it as hard as he could. It bounced harmlessly off the creature’s tough, leathery body.
Reaching into a back pocket, he pulled out one of the few objects that remained to him. But why throw a life crystal, he thought? If anything, it would probably only make the creature stronger. Could he somehow arrange things so that it would revive him after he was killed? Of course, if the monster tore him apart, it might be difficult even for one of the miraculous crystals to resurrect a mess of scattered fragments. Not to mention the impossibility of revival if the creature ate him.
Trying to divide his attention between the advancing monstrosity and his remaining choices, he peered back into the depths. That’s when he saw a mate to his stalker lying curled up and quiescent on the floor below. It was motionless, desiccated and dead.
Great, he thought. Another one. The moaning was very near now. He thought he sensed a hint of expectation in it. :
What the hell, he decided. If it didn’t work, he wouldn’t die any slower.
Turning, he threw the life crystal not at the creature stalking him but at the dead one below. It landed precisely in the middle of the knot of tendons and promptly sank out of sight. Whirling to once more confront the devil before him, he could only listen as the one below revived.
Standing and stretching, it angled its perceptions upward. Sensing movement, it tensed, focused … and sprang.
Low immediately fell to the floor. Claws outstretched, the monster sailed over him to strike the stalker head-on. Outraged moans filled the air as the two tumbled backward in an inextricable tangle of claws and legs.
Grasping mouths sought purchase within the tough hide. Claws scraped against unyielding surfaces. Powerful limbs thrashed and thrust. Like a pair of drunken wrestlers, the two guardians twisted and twitched in an orgy of determined fury.
Meanwhile a shaky Low climbed slowly to his feet. With no chance of slipping past them, he had no choice but to continue on.
How long would they continue to fight, he found himself wondering? Until one killed the other? They seemed evenly matched. Tough, fleshless torsos and limbs could take a lot of punishment. Maybe they would brawl until they exhausted themselves.
That was a denouement he could deal with. Turning, he resumed his interrupted advance, curiosity as well as necessity driving him to the tunnel that opened into the chamber on the opposite side of the mezzanine.
He did not feel the multitude gathering above him. Even in their millions the Cocytans did not impact on the physical world. Their mental weight exerted a pressure he sensed only as the start of a possible headache, and this he attributed to his recent near escape. Had he known the truth, it surely would, so to speak, have weighed more heavily on him.
A flurry of excitement had raced through the Cocytan group-mind when Low had succeeded in bypassing the guardians. Few previous visitors had ever made it so far. For that reason none could predict what might happen next. It was a New Thing and, as such, deserving of the attention it was receiving.
“What an elegant solution,” the first declaimed. “To cancel out an invincible guardian, one must utilize another invincible guardian.” Even the skeptics were impressed, and so withheld their usual morose commentary.
Low felt nothing. As he advanced at a steady pace, he was unaware of the many minds that marked his progress. Accompanied by a million ghosts, he was more troubled by some dust in his left eye.
The passageway opened abruptly into another large chamber. In its center was a magnificently decorated platform atop which rested a sculpture of exquisite refinement, bathed in a pale light of a color not previously encountered. Low entered warily, ready to duck quickly back into the tunnel, but there were no guardians here, dead or otherwise. Approaching cautiously, he inspected the sculpted icon.