CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Surrounded by an armed escort of tattooed gremlins, Callen walked beside Virette. At their flanks, followed a pair of hooded priests that carried torches decorated with their profane religious symbol. With each step up the street, the featureless haze of smog hiding the castle’s details cleared. Among the oxidized metals and partially melted plastics, the massive castle had been carved from the cavern wall in primitive fashion at the cost of the lives of countless slaves.
Beyond a final clutter of patchwork buildings, they passed another series of medical tents and machine gun posts before coming to the castle's massive gate. Caked with years of rust, and reinforced with improvised supports, the gate had been made to work like the toothy maw of a massive shark. Despite time's touch, the teeth were kept sharp as if to sever those unlucky enough to get caught in it when it closed.
Before entering, Callen looked back over the village. The village wasn't much more than a mile in diameter, but it was impressive, none-the-less. How these creatures managed to make this place was beyond him.
Virette looked at him and handed him his bag. "Here's your equipment...the computer's screen no longer works...I will allow you to repair it after this. Remember, you aren't my prisoner here...you're my guest. Be warned, the king is volatile...and doesn't enjoy when anyone argues with him...if you anger him, I will be unable to do anything...and he will have you killed."
Callen nodded and glanced in the bag. "Thanks...and thanks for the warning." His collection of wires and connectors were there, as was his multitool. He didn't see the combat knife. "My knife?"
"I'll make sure you have higher quality equipment when we get back...you won't even need a knife then."
Glancing at her cybernetic hand, he nodded. "Got yah." He followed Virette towards the castle.
Beyond the gate, several guards, equipped with filtered masks eyed them from their posts. Nervously, they waited for Virette’s entourage to near the four plastic portable toilets. The blue plastic sheds had been modified with piping, pumps, and tanks of antiseptics. Each was operated and guarded by identically built and heavily armed gremlins.
"Cogs." Virette sneered before Callen could ask. "Bracket's personal army, gremlins that were built from birth to be unquestionably loyalty to his highness. Some believe that his court physician builds them to be extensions of Bracket himself."
"Builds them?" Callen asked.
"Yes, he has almost a legion. His personal guard." Virette said. "Like all gremlins, they are born of flesh but are incomplete. Metal and wires must be added to account for 'genetic defects.' Careful attention must be taken for each gremlin that survives birth...the ones that are unable to be individuals become cogs. I served as chief salvage physician once..."
"Prepare for decontamination." One of the cogs ordered as he opened the plastic door. "Please step into a scrubbing station before proceeding."
"I thought I was immune..."
She nodded. "It spreads through droplets and blood," Virette answered. "You walked through the village. Bracket is paranoid of the plague...and has taken powerful chemicals from those above to kill the germs."
"There's no need to remove your clothing...just hold your breath inside." The cog said. "And do not delay, King Bracket isn't going to wait."
Beyond the booths was the castle's impressive entry way. Carved stone statues of heroic gremlins holding blazing torches lit the path to a large double door guarded by a pair of cogs. On the palace, hung several banners blotched with ink in the form of a Celtic cross.
"Welcome to Bracket's Red Castle." Virette spat. The castle's name obviously came from the heavy coating of rust that coated the steel. "The site of our final demise...unless, something blessed saves us." She walked towards the massive door and Callen followed.
They were expected, so the doors parted without hesitation. Inside, red LEDs and flickering torches lit the hallway. The cross banners were hung next to the alcoves, which housed the artwork, and under each of them stood an armed Cog at attention guarding various halls that lead off into the depths of the palace. The Cogs, armed with electrified spears and idle firearms, subtly herded them towards the open door into the throne room packed tight with arrays of blinking electronics.
Spotlighted by a strange assortment of lighting, a bloated gremlin sat before a table crowded with advisors. The disgusting king was wired into the very room with hundreds of cables. From his bent robotic spider legs that formed a throne, the abomination grinned happily as one of his several female attendants fed him. Slurping down a glowing mushroom soaked in some slimy broth, he watched the door close and turned his attention to the assembled court.
Ignoring the depraved feeding method that was happening next to her, a female gremlin sat beside the king. Looking like Virette without wrinkles, she was dressed in armor made of metal plates and enhanced with modern tactical gear to support her modern weaponry. He guessed she was a princess and some sort of warrior, perhaps a commander of some kind based on her badges.
Off to the left side of the room Callen spotted the gremlin soldiers that had conducted a covert operation that resulted in his plunge into this strange hidden world. Two of the eight were missing, which were the ones that Callen had wounded.
"So, you have decided to witness the demise of your religious coup?" The king whined in a high-pitched voice, as Virette took a seat at the table along with her priests. She motioned for Callen to sit next to her as he delayed in confusion.
"Or your failure," Virette stated. "Which is more likely...but a coup it isn't. I work tirelessly to cure our people with the strength granted to me by the Many while you chase a ghost..."
"We will see, priestess." The king's spider-like eyes focused on Callen. "And who is this human that you bring to my table?"
"He is merely one of the Many's faithful," Virette said. "Surely, great king, you understand that the words of The Many are far beyond our people alone. He is only here to listen and learn."
Bracket loosened his grasp from a necklace that dangled beneath the rolls of his chin and be begun biting his dirty thumbnail. The necklace that fell free caught Callen's eye. Both a scarab and a rune covered coin hung from the tarnished chain, which he instantly recalled from one of his dreams. Bracket spit a nail out of his mouth and it landed on his gut. "Interesting," He sneered. He then let out a series of barks and growls. "If you are to stay, and when I succeed, then will you carry the Forger's truth to the surface instead?"
Callen looked at Virette and her body language pointed him towards accepting the king's suggestion. "Yes...um...great King. I will...we seek truth...and if yours is the truth I shall speak it."
"The surface brings wisdom, maybe you should listen, Priestess." Bracket gloated.
"If a greater truth is revealed, then I, as well, will have no choice but to follow it." Virette snapped. "Pity you lack the ability to heed your own advice.
Bracket curled his lip and showed one of his stained fangs, but if he was enraged, it didn't affect his tone. "Now, we begin." Cameras mounted all over the room clicked on and televisions built into the architecture lit up showing live video of the meeting.
The King began barking and growling, as if he was introducing a television show. As if on cue, a group of clergy emerged from a distant door. They stopped before the gremlin king and bowed. Their long beards looked like they were made of wires and they reminded Callen of Jewish rabbis. They turned towards the assembly and the cameras. In unison, they made religious gestures and began a televised religious ceremony. The throne room seemed to double as a temple.
The two of the rabbis began chanting slowly forming an almost hypnotic beat. The third began a blessing. As the prayer continued Callen began to feel dizzy. He gagged, but he swallowed the vomit. The horrible room began to spin, he struggled to stay in his chair. Luckily, the prayer ended before he passed out.
/> "Alright, shall we get on with this?" Virette hissed. "We have heard far too much of your religious heresy, Bracket. Let this move on so we can usher in a new era for our people when you fail."
"Don't be so sure, priestess." He laughed. "The Marked One will save us with his magic and return us to Forgeholm. The Forger's child is here this time, I assure you and our suffering is nearing its end. This plague is just a test of faith." He glanced at the Special Forces team, and with a toothy grin, he returned his gaze to the priestess. "Today, your blasphemy ends!" He turned back towards the camera and began addressing his people in their harsh language.
"We shall see." Virette hissed.
"Those who have lost faith will now have it restored...the Marked One will save us all! As was foretold!" He stated to the priestess. He returned to growling orders.
Two doors creaked open near the Special Forces group. Several lab coat wearing gremlins emerged. One was pushing an electronic contraption on wheels. Wired into the strange machine was a small red and black skinned humanoid about the size of a house cat, with bat wings and long horns. Shackled into the strange contraption, the creature's snout was locked in an electronic muzzle and its eyes were sewn shut. The creature struggled and muffled growls came from the winged beast. Another pushed a hospital stretcher webbed in wire and modified with a variety of jury-rigged electronics. The last pair pushed a cart carrying more of the small black skinned creatures locked in cages.
Following the technicians, was a psychotic looking gremlin, dressed in a dirty lab coat that walked with a lurch as he favored his fleshy leg to a mechanical peg leg. With psychotic glee, he made adjustments to the dirty medical equipment on his elongated metallic arm.
Bracket grinned at the sadistic physician and growled more orders. The physician responded and the medical assistants began connecting the modified stretcher to the device holding the struggling winged creature.
"What's going on?" Callen whispered.
"That machine apparently was made to test for the marked one's magic somehow..." Virette answered. "I imagine it works much like exposure to radiation...if the marked one can heal...he surely wouldn't allow himself to die...but it could be something else...I didn't build it."
Bracket nodded towards a pair of Cogs standing at attention near one of the several doors into the throne room. The Cogs each pulled a lever and with the scraping of rusty gears, a metal door groaned open.
From the dark tunnel, another group of Cogs herded a group of bound and gagged children with cattle prods. Filth, blood, and tears clung to all of their terrified faces. Aggressively, they were forced to their knees at the opposite end of the table from the king.
Callen instantly recognized the shadows that hung on the children's faces. The fear of death was unmistakable. Many times had felt the breath of the reaper whispering in his own ear as he refused to listen to the call. He felt guilt for surviving well up in his gut, but that guilt was mixed with a small bit of relief when he saw Sadie, Tende, and his sister mix into the crowd. They looked groggy from their drug-induced sleep, but they were alive, for now, which gave Callen hope.
The gremlin king again addressed the crowd, followed by more excited conversation with a physician. The assembled nobles whispered between themselves and gave quick glances towards Virette. She sat patiently, waiting for something.
While his assistants calibrated the strange device, the physician pulled a set of sharpened metal tubes from a storage compartment on his arm and handed them to one of his assistants. Carefully, the assistant attached the hollow pencil sized needles to a network of tubing that connected to a bar that hung with multiple empty IV bags.
When the assistants finished, the physician took his place next to the controls and began making the final adjustments. From recycled plastic containers, the assistants filled the empty IV bags with glowing green liquid. The physician gestured toward the children with a snarl when the bags were full. The assistants glanced at Bracket, waiting for his permission to begin.
Bracket's eyes scanned the trembling children. Several attempted to hide their head from his gaze. He laughed and pointed one of his gnarled fingers at a small boy closest to the medical assistants.
Callen watched in horror as the closest cog grabbed the boy by the collar and tossed him to the assistants, like a rag doll. The assistants grabbed him, dragged the petrified child towards the rusty stretcher and began strapping him in.
Callen noticed a necklace fall from the boy's shirt, which was marked with a medical cross, and his on his wrist hung a hospital bracelet. The boy had diabetes. Callen's heart skipped a beat when he heard the boy wince when the first implants were clipped to nerve clusters on his skin. The boy's first cries came from the special needles that were shoved into the base of his skull, arms, thighs, and spine. The gremlins didn't even bother to remove the boy's dirty clothes, which were soon soaked with spots of wet blood. His cries became nothing more than a gargle when a garden hose was shoved down his throat. He franticly looked at the faces of the monsters before him, and his eyes met Callen's. In the terror on his face, there was a wrinkle of hope, which soon died as the physician jammed his finger into the start button.
The device began to hum. A compartment beneath the writhing creature slid open, revealing a basketball sized orb, the physician grabbed the orb and pulled it from the machine. Wires trailed behind it and metal shutters on the orb opened like lids on an eye. Beneath the eyelids, the iris began to pulse with a green light.
The creature wired to the machine began to struggle harder. Its skin wrinkled as its veins bulged and countless incisions from medical procedures could be seen on the creature's skin. The tubes squirmed as the sounds of pumps from within the contraption gulped pushing the strange fluid from the IV bags into the bound child.
The physician lifted the glowing orb, and a beam of light washed over the boy's body. His veins bulged and his flesh tightened. Slowly, green light began glowing from the inside. His arteries began to pop and his tears ran red with blood. His eyes grew wide, and with one last desperate struggle, the light pulsed out and his flesh tore outward. The ribbons of flesh and torn clothes were quickly consumed, which left a smoldering skeleton strapped to the table.
Instantly, the smell of burning flesh mixed into the rotting air and the device powered down. Callen stared at the boy's charred skeleton in shock. He felt a wave of guilt rush over him. He wondered if he could have done something, anything, to stop it, and three of the people who he cared about most were waiting to share that boy's fate.
As the physician made adjustments on the device and the assistants began resetting the machines consumables, an image of the boy's internals began to appear on the contraption's monitor. The physician barked angrily and pointed to the data that was slowly being revealed. Ignoring the screaming winged demon's shrieks, Callen watched the data appear, and from what he could tell, it looked like a medical scan of some kind. The image showed a graphic of the boy's skeleton and blinked in locations across his body.
"They're looking for something...medical...what is it?" He whispered to Virette.
"The forger's child's form is supposedly marred by a contradiction within. Since the marked one is a hybrid of the a demon's infernal power and a mortal being, the marked one's body is at war with itself." Virette answered. "The eye is said to detect that war."
"But he just killed him..." Callen swallowed hard, choking on his inaction.
"Part of why he will fail," Virette whispered. She motioned back to the display.
"At war with itself?" Callen whispered to himself. The screens on the strange device flashed with failure. He shivered when the assistants casually disconnected the boy's remains from the stretcher. The green tinted bones became an iridescent dust when they hit the floor.
"One down, Bracket," Virette cooed. "Choose your next failure."
Bracket face wrinkled with anger, but he didn't respond to the priestess taunts. Instead, his eyes darted over the group of captives. After a few seconds, his eyes narrowed on a target, and his commands followed. The nearest cog grabbed Ania and tossed her towards the machine.
Ania pushed herself up and a pair of assistants grabbed her under the arm. She attempted to resist, but they were stronger. One pulled the gag from her mouth, and her panicked breaths became audible. In seconds, she would be strapped to that contraption. Her eyes met Callen's, but she didn't speak, her voice was silenced by terror.
"No, she's not it!" Callen yelled. He glanced down and saw that he was standing. His fists were clenched and his voice was strong. He was ready for a fight.
"Excuse me?" Bracket roared.
"She's not your Marked One," Callen yelled with unshakeable confidence, or at least he hoped. His heart pounded.
"I order you to sit, human...and hold your tongue...or you're next." Bracket threatened.
Virette grinned when Callen didn't sit.
"You have a lot of nerve boy...but it's the fear that your naïve faith is about to die that is guiding this stupid decision. So, I’ll give you one last chance…don’t speak out again.“ Bracket glanced over at the priestess. “Shall we continue?”, he asked rhetorically.
Virette said nothing and waited.
“I’ll take your silence as acceptance, priestess“ Bracket looked at Callen. "As for you human, when this is over, I will allow you can carry words of the Forger to those above! Just like you agreed." He nodded at the medical assistants to continue. The assistants lifted Ania and began strapping her to the modified stretcher. Next to them, they snapped the harness on the creature and the machine began to hum with a second dose of energy.
His feelings of desperation swelled when the assistants moved to insert the needles. "Wait!" he yelled. "You are making a mistake!"
"I warned you, human!" Bracket roared. "Guards!"
With robotic speed, two Cogs had spears at Callen's back.
"You're wrong!" Callen yelled. "That girl doesn't have what you're looking for! She isn't even sick! That's what that machine detects!"
"You know nothing human. We aren't looking for illness...we have plenty of that among our own people! We are looking for the mark of divinity!" Bracket yelled. "Virette, silence your pet or I'll be forced to follow through on my threat!"
Virette rested her hand on Callen's tense arm. "Sit." She said, but it wasn't an order. It was obvious that she wanted him to do the opposite. "Your death won't help us."
Callen shook off her hand. "NO!" He yelled. "Let her go! Let all of them go!"
The first needle pierced Ania's arm. She screamed.
"Stop!" Callen yelled. "Test me! You said if I spoke out again that I'd be next...so...be a king of your word...or are you too scared that I might be your Marked One?"
Bracket looked Callen over and his irritation was obvious.
Virette hid her pleasure by tapping her metal nails on her upper lip. "Yes, my king...why don't you test him right now...I mean...if he dies...then you can continue with the rest...after all, you're the one that holds all the power here."
"You do have a point, Priestess...and for once it's actually in my favor." Bracket admitted. "I guess it's because your faith in your false god sounds like it's waning. Is this the truth?"
"My beliefs are built on evidence," Virette said. "They always have…The Many has helped me relieve many plague victims...and his faithful have grown because the Forger failed us. But, dear king...I only care for our people's future...and what is best for all of us..."
Bracket looked satisfied. "Well, you heard it...what's best for all of us is unification. There's no way that The Marked One would follow The Many...so, my people...consider his death the first step to the prophecy being fulfilled and the end of our suffering!"
The cavern outside the castle echoed with the cheers of the gremlin populous. The cogs grabbed Callen's shoulders, but he pushed them off. "Bracket, I go willingly...that’s for the record too." He took his first steps towards the table. "Unstrap her, now." With a nod from Bracket, the assistants followed suit.
Ania fell to her knees. Callen kneeled next to her and placed his backpack down. "In here." He unzipped the bag and dropped his goggles inside next to the multi-tool.
"What are you doing?" She whispered in confusion. "Callen?" But, when she spotted the multi-tool, Callen hoped that she understood to use it to help her escape.
"It's okay. I got this one." Callen whispered he shot her a half grin and another towards Sadie and Tende. "The least I can do is give you a chance to escape. I don't have much time anyway."
Callen climbed into the device and the assistants began strapping him in. He stared at the king, without a flinch, as the needles were inserted into his body. He didn't cough as the hose was inserted into his throat. With the buzz of the machine, and the gulp of the pumps, the rush of chemicals flooded his system. He closed his eyes when he felt a warm light wash over his body that came from the orb and listened to the gremlins' cheers.
The energy washed over his body and the only signs of pain, which were visible, were his tensed muscles and a tight grimace on his face. But, he felt as if he had been thrown into the fires of hell as his insides began to pulse. He felt like every cell in his body was about to explode, but something held him together. The burning was as intense as any of his cancer treatments, but he had always managed to pull through. He clenched his teeth as the pain intensified, and his body began to spasm. The pain pushed him to the limits of consciousness but not over. He thrashed violently. He felt searing light erupting in the depths of his body. However, he didn't glow like the other boy. Nor did he explode. His flesh and clothing remained intact.
Without warning, the machine snapped off and the machine powered down. A display screen blinked that the process was complete. Callen remained, and the gremlins fell silent.
The assistants released the straps and Callen fell to the ground with steam rising from his skin. As he pulled out the medical connections, he looked up at Bracket with a stare that could kill. He pushed off the wave of dizziness and stood. "I guess you found what you're looking for." Callen declared. He coughed and the machine buzzed as it finalized the analysis. "I'm your marked one!"
"By what trickery..." Bracket started to say, but his words decayed into the grunts and barks of the gremlin tongue as the sounds of chaos grew outside the palace. His attention turned to the scarab, and soon the riots quieted. After a few barks from the physician, the king’s face wrinkled with disbelief.
Unhindered, Callen grabbed his bag and his goggles. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he rose to his feet before pulling the goggles back on his face. His legs were a little shaky, but he held strong. "So, what now?" He asked, augmented by forced confidence.
"This just cannot be. The Marked One cannot follow his father's mortal enemy!"
"I didn't say I followed this Many, did I?" Callen asked. "All she did was find me on my way here..."
Virette grinned approvingly. "He speaks the truth, my king."
Bracket nodded slowly. "An interesting point, those words belonged to the priestess." He nodded. "Also, your actions have contradicted your allegiance through you volunteering for our test...a follower of the Many would have never stepped forward." He paused as if considering his words and he studied Virette's expression. "However, these circumstances are curious...and sabotage isn't out of the question. So, if I am to consider you the Marked One, as our device indicates, I have a question. As the child of the Forger, and thus The Marked One, you must know your father's true name. So, tell me, human, what is the forger's name? Speak the truth, for only I and the Prophet know his true name."
Callen glanced down at his sister, hoping for some sort of advice. However, she just shrugged. W
ith no time for the two of them to craft a story, he had to tell the truth. He went with his gut. "My father is, Alexander, Alexander Thorne or Alex for short. I am his son. Callen Thorne."
Bracket gasped with joy. "He knows the true name...you are the Forger's son."
The gremlin city cheered around them, and Virette leaned back in her chair. "So, Marked One..." She hid her smile. "Do you carry the cure? Can you end our people's suffering with your magic?"
Callen's heart skipped a beat. He looked at the king. "I cannot...cure the plague with magic." The city roared in chaos around them. He glanced at Ania and then to Virette. "My father granted me no magic." His confession sounded apologetic, but it did nothing to calm Bracket's rage. However, before the king was able to respond coherently, Callen continued. "But, I know where to..."
At that second, the door to the throne room parted and in walked single gremlin. He bared his apish teeth and his stark-white brow creased beneath the hood of his warn-out sweatshirt. His long pointed ears, one with a gold band in it, poked out through holes torn in the hood, and copper dreadlocks, contained by his hood, fell out over his face and shoulders. With his one glowing blue eye and other organic, he glared at Bracket. His dark copper metal tribal tattoos could be seen on his hands and neck seemed to move as he seethed.
“Bunny-man..." Callen whispered under his breath.