Contingency Plans (Continued)

When Dash regained consciousness, he was in a tiny cell no larger than his personal lavatory aboard Starlighter. He was lying atop a bed which was actually more like a shelf; it was made into the wall and had no padding on it whatsoever. The only other object in the room was a chamber pot in the opposite corner.

Three of the walls of the cell were made of seamless purple stone. The fourth wall was open but blocked by shimmering green laser bars; more cells were visible beyond the bars. There was a dull green light in the middle of the cell's ceiling. Dash could not see or hear any other people about. He had been stripped down to his fibercoat, carbonpants, and boots; his weapons and armor were gone.

At least I'm alive, he thought. Remembering the heat he felt when he was struck by the strange woman's gun blast, he lifted up his fibercoat. Sure enough, there was a large burn mark on his stomach. The center looked charred and was surrounded by a halo of red, irritated skin. The spot was terribly sore but no longer burned.

Dash's next move was to examine the bars. As he had expected, they were generating a level-one security field. Dash had been in enough prisons across Algo and throughout the sector to know that to touch the bars would mean a slow and lingering death by electrocution. There seemed to be no way out.

"Think!" he said to himself. "What would Tyler Jorran do in a situation like this?" For a moment Dash tried desperately to imagine what his idol would do in his place, but at last he had to admit to himself, "Tyler Jorran would never be in a situation like this."

Just then, Dash heard the sound of shuffling feet approaching his cell. Clinking keys could also be heard. Dash sat back down on his bed and waited for his jailer to come into view. He smiled. This could be my chance, he thought. Got to make this count. But his smile evaporated when he saw the face of his visitor.

The jailer was a Dezorian. Or, rather, he had been once, for the face into which Dash was staring was unmistakably the face of a corpse. The eye sockets were empty. The green skin had gone gray-brown and fell away in flakes. The fingers were bent and looked frozen. Their knuckle bones were exposed, and whenever the fingers moved they creaked loudly. Flesh snapped and cracked with every motion the jailer made. His lower jaw wobbled as if it was about to break off. His cheeks were sunken in and the place where his small Dezorian nostrils should have been had collapsed inward, giving Dash a view of the inside of the jailer's vacant skull. The jailer's back was hunched and he was short for a Dezorian. Dash guessed that his body must have shrank as it decomposed.

Dash instinctively pressed his back against the rear wall of his cell as he stared at the jailer. He didn't cry out, but he bit his lip in disgust and fright. Was he seeing a ghost? Had he gone mad? No, he thought. He couldn't possibly be imagining it. The smell of death was too real, and so was Dash's terror.

The jailer wore a soiled and torn red tunic and no kem'pallah. His twisted right hand held a sonic gun. His left hand reached down to his belt and removed a key. He inserted the key into a tiny hole in the wall and the security bars disappeared.

"Come with me to ze laboratory," the jailer said with a thick Dezorian accent. The stench that emanated from his maw as he spoke was horrendous. His voice was hoarse and quiet, and sounded as if it had been forced from his throat. Fortunately, however, Dash understood the jailer's words, and he was able to put the awful smell out of his mind. As Dash exited his cell, the wraith pointed down a hallway with a gnarled finger, and Dash quickly walked in that direction.

The corridors of the alien ship were halls of horrors. Dash did not see any more Palman-looking people. What he saw were scaly-skinned wizards in filthy cloaks with tubes jutting out from their throats. He saw giant skeletal beings draped in long robes with demonic symbols written on their garments. He saw dragons, long thought extinct if not legendary, chained in cages. And he saw animated Dezorian corpses everywhere, all in varying stages of decay. They were dressed for hand-to-hand combat, like wrestlers and gladiators. They would spit on the ground and moan and shake spasmodically. It was all Dash could to not shut his eyes and recoil in fear. But doing so would have done little good anyway, as the smells and sounds of the evil ship were every bit as horrible as the sights.

The layout of the ship was incomprehensible to Dash. The passageways twisted and turned needlessly, only to loop back upon each other. But the jailer knew where he was going, and eventually, the two of them came to a door. And beyond the door was a laboratory. Test tubes and beakers and instruments of all kinds were set out upon half a dozen tables. Slabs, like those that would be used for autopsies, were strewn about. Bodies rested upon them, only some of which were mercifully covered by sheets.

Here there were more of the Palman-looking people. The leader of them was a man with black hair and brown skin far darker than any Palman had ever had. He and his companions all wore lab coats and gloves and goggles. And as the jailer pushed Dash towards the dark-skinned man, Dash realized for the first time that Klek was here as well. The Dezorian had been stripped of his lab gear and laser scalpel. Like Dash, he had been left only with his clothing. Even his kem'pallah had been confiscated.

"What's going on here?" Dash asked the dark-skinned man.

"Your friend--" the man said, nodding towards Klek, "--would not cooperate unless he saw that you had been left unharmed. And since it turned out that we needed him to unlock the special seal on the casket--"

Dash smirked. "Klek, I'm touched."

"Don't be," the Dezorian said sharply. "I only need you for my ride home."

As they were talking, a woman followed by four men entered the room. The men were carrying the casket that had been aboard the Starlighter. The woman pressed a lever which lowered one of the autopsy slabs to the floor. The men then set the casket down upon the slab. The woman and men and some of the others in the room left after that, leaving only the dark-skinned man, Klek, Dash, and the jailer in the lab.

Just then another door opened and the trio who had met the Starlighter in the docking bay entered the room. The old man, ignoring the Algoians completely, said to the dark-skinned scientist, "Is it ready, Dr. Riley?"

Riley nodded. "Yes, First Consul. Now that you have arrived, we can begin."

Dash slowly crept closer to Klek, who was staring into the casket. Dash looked into the casket as well, and he let out a slight gasp as he stared down at the nearly-skeletal body of one of the shortest Dezorians he had ever seen. However, more startling than Bishop Gumbious' diminutive stature, and even more enthralling than his jewel- and laconia-encrusted ceremonial garments, was the amber stone set just between his empty eye sockets. The amber eye was well suited to its name; not only was it the exact same size and shape as the average Dezorian eye, but in its center was a nugget of amber far more brilliant than the surrounding shell. The golden core looked like a pupile and made the eye appear alive. It seemed to really be staring outward, and not only seeing, but understanding. Knowing.

The "First Consul" stepped over to the casket, placing him directly across it from Klek and Dash. "Look at this," he said as he stared at the body. His wrinkled hand quivered just centimeters above the Bishop's withered face. "D'zkot was right! The story of the eye was true!"

The First Consul's two attendants came to stand beside him. They, too, looked upon the body, but neither of them seemed to be very moved by it.

"This artifact possesses tremendous power!" the old man said. His voice was shaking as much as his hand. "Don't you feel it? You can feel its power just by looking at it!"

Klek gave Dash a worried look, which Dash promptly returned.

"With this artifact we can do anything," the First Consul whispered. "With this we can destroy Palma!"

"Destroy Palm?" Dash cried. He raised his fists as if to attack, but before he could make his move, the First Consul's attendants raised their weapons again. Dash put up his hands and stepped back. The jailer came closer and trained his weapon on the two Algoians.

The First Consul's dark eyes drilled into Dash. "Yes. One thousand years ago my people tried to destroy Palm by making its king, Lassic, our puppet. That plan failed. Now we have enslaved Algo through Mother Brain, but still there are those who resist -- ungrateful troublemakers like you."

"You are the creators of Mother Brain!" Klek asked with a gasp. "Why would the honorable Rez'tekkan do business with such fiends? When I think of the hardships you have brought to my world--!"

"You are a fool, Dezorian," the First Consul said. "And so is your Rez'tekkan. D'zkot cooperates with us because he does not realize us for what we are. He thinks that we shall help him to take control of Dezoris. He thinks we do not know of his plans to conquer all of Algo, but we do. What's more, he fails to see that we shall spare Dezoris no more than we shall spare Palma!"

"I don't know what you people are, or what D'zkot plans to do, and I don't care, either," Dash said through a tightly-clenched jaw. "But why would you seek to destroy Algo? We have done nothing to you! We have never made war on an alien culture!"

"Because our God commands it!" the First Consul boomed, slamming his wrinkled fists upon the top of the casket. Over his shoulder he barked, "Have these maggots restrained!"

The zombie-like man and woman approached and forced Dash and Klek against the wall just behind them. They and the jailer kept their guns level with the Algoians' heads.

The First Consul turned to Dr. Riley and said, "Let us begin."

Dr. Riley nodded and busied himself with a computer monitor rapidly displaying bits of information that the Algoians could not understand. As he was doing so, a towering figure wearing a flowing black robe entered the room. The figure was humanoid, but it was far too tall and its arms were far too long for it to be a Dezorian. The figure wore a helmet that resembled a Palman bishop's hat, but the helmet also had a semi-transparent plate that covered the figure's face.

The First Consul moved aside and allowed the figure to approach the casket. The figure removed its gloves as it stood over Bishop Gumbious' body, revealing skeletal hands with long, dagger-like, bony fingers. Dash also noticed a skull-like emblem emblazoned on the front of the creature's robe.

"I thank you for your services, L-Elm-Gan," the First Consul said.

"There is no need for thanks," the L-Elm-Gan replied in a deep, raspy, almost mechanical voice. "We all serve the same master; we all fight for the same goal." After it had spoken, the L-Elm-Gan began to wave its hands in a circular pattern. A black mist filled the air. As the assembled watched, the mist gathered itself over the body of Bishop Gumbious. The mist descended upon the corpse, worming its way into every opening it could find in the ancient body. Once the entire mist had been absorbed by the body, a faint light arose in the cavities where Bishop Gumbious' eyes had once been. And as Dash and Klek watched in horror, the body of Bishop Gumbious groaned and sat upright.

"Four hundred years ago," the First Consul said, "Bishop Gumbious used the power of his amber eye to shield Dezoris from the more traumatic effects of the Great Disaster. Now, he shall use that same power to destroy Palma, and then Dezoris. Then we shall take Motavia! We shall at last have a world of our own! Our God's great dreams shall at last be realized!"

"First Consul, the instruments are going crazy!" Dr. Riley said. "I'm picking up a tremendous power source. It comes from within the amber eye!"

The First Consul grinned wickedly. He walked around the coffin, staring at the reanimated corpse, and said, "Could it be that Bishop Gumbious found a way to focus the power of his mind through that gem? No matter. He will do what I command; how he does it is of little consequence."

The First Consul stood directly before the wraith of the Bishop. For a few seconds, the Bishop remained oblivious. But then, his face seemed to focus on the face of the First Consul. A new aura of understanding fell over the Bishop's crumbled features.

"You will do as I command," the First Consul said levelly and quietly.

The Bishop opened his mouth to speak. Dust and crumbled skin wafted off of his face. There was a loud cracking sound, and then a low, unintelligible whine poured from his throat.

The First Consul smiled. "Good enough." He then turned to Dash and Klek. "Jailer, take the Algoians back to the brig until I decide how best to deal with them."

The dead Dezorian jailer thrust his sonic gun toward Dash and Klek. Both of the Algoians put up their hands and marched out of the laboratory at gun point. The laboratory door slammed shut behind them, but the frenzied laughter of the First Consul could still clearly be heard.

The jailer did not take them far, however. After the trio rounded their first corner, Dash noticed that the hallway they occupied was empty aside from the three of them. The fear and shock the dead Dezorian had initially instilled in Dash had faded, so he decided to make his move. Without warning, he turned around and slammed his fist right into the center of the dead Dezorian's face.

The entire front of the revenant's head collapsed; shards of bone and flaps of skin hung down in the empty brain cavity like strands of ticker-tate. The Dezorian flailed about madly with its arms, dropping its sonic gun in the process. Unfortunately, although the creature was disoriented, it was not easily stopped. Before long the ghoul regained its composure and began to creep slowly but steadily towards Klek and Dash.

After the sonic gun fell, it slid across the floor in Klek's direction. Klek dove for it, pointed it at the Dezorian's torso, and fired. The inaudible pellet of solid sound blasted out by the gun passed right through the corpse, sending dried bits of its innards flying behind it like leaves in the wind. The creature staggered, but kept coming.

"Shoot it in the knees!" Dash shouted, jumping off to the side as the zombie dove at him. "That's the only way to keep it down!"

Klek aimed and fired again, taking out the creature's left leg below the knee. Then he fired again, shattering the right leg and leaving it no more than a pile of dust on the floor. However, even though the zombie was no more than a torso with arms, it continued to struggle. Its hapless arms still reached for its prey. It flipped onto its stomach and began to crawl towards Klek.

"How the Hell do we stop this thing?" Dash shouted.

"I've got an idea!" Klek said. He stood perfectly still; the creature came closer and closer.

"Klek, what are you doing?" Dash demanded, taking a step towards his comrade.

Klek said nothing. Then, just when the monstrosity was about to claw at his ankles, he shouted, "Rever!" For a moment nothing happened. But then, the zombie's necrotized tissues became whole again. Blood began to ooze from the gaping holes in its head, neck, and legs. Unfortunately for the zombie, however, its face and limbs did not spontaneously regenerate. Not even Rever was capable of that sort of feat. But, once the corpse was made living tissue again, the evil L-Elm-Gan necromancy spell was canceled. The torso fell limp where it was.

Klek, pale and breathing heavily, looked at Dash.

Dash smiled. "Good job," he said. "But what do we do now?"

"Could you lead us back to your ship?" Klek asked.

"Sure, but I don't know if we could ever get past all of the critters waiting further down this corridor. There's a long way to go between us and the Starlighter. I doubt you've got enough doses of that Rever technique...."

Klek nodded. "Oh, but running is not an option anyway! We must find the First Consul and put a stop to this madness."

"Why Klek, are you saying you don't trust the Rez'tekkan anymore?"

Klek shot Dash a disgusted scowl. "What a fool I was to blindly hand this sort of power over to strangers! Now I see D'zkot for what he is -- a liar, a monster, and an idiot!"

Dash smirked and took the sonic gun from his disconcerted friend. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

Klek smiled. "Then let's go."

The two of them raced back to the laboratory. The doors were locked, but Dash was able to kick them down. Unfortunately, the First Consul, his attendants, the L-Elm-Gan, and the Bishop's phantom had gone. Only Dr. Riley remained, closely examining the air-tight Dezorian casket.

His face shot upwards as he heard the door collapse. Though his eyes were hidden behind thick goggles, Dash could clearly see them go wide as the two Algoians burst in.

Dash raised his sonic gun level with the alien doctor's head. "Where did they go?" he demanded.

The doctor growled. "I will never tell you! Our God's plan must not be interfered with!" He suddenly leaped over a slab and toward Dash, his fingers bent like talons and his teeth bared. Dash frowned and pulled the trigger on the sonic gun. The doctor's body was knocked backwards in mid-flight. Klek, being, among other things, a mortician, was not a squeamish man. But even he had to scowl and look away. He was grateful that the dark-skinned man's headless body had landed behind a desk and was beyond his view.

There was another door along the opposite wall. "They must have gone through there," Klek said. "By the Torch, I hope they haven't boarded a shuttle craft. We'll never catch them if they've gotten away."

"Which is why we'd better hurry up!" Dash shouted, leaping over a desk and rushing for the door as fast as he could. Klek was right behind him.

After passing through the door, they found themselves in another hallway. It was mercifully empty except for a few of the reanimated Dezorian corpses, which were easily disabled or destroyed by a few well-placed blasts of the sonic gun and a few doses of Rever from Klek.

After a time they came to an intersection. Three hallways branched off in opposing directions. There was no way to tell which route the First Consul's party had taken.

"Which way do we go?" Klek asked.

From one of the corridors a raspy voice called, "Ze intruders are zis way!"

Klek and Dash looked to the right to see a party of zombies, followed by a massive, terrifying winged dragon, swiftly approaching.

"We have zem now!" screamed a voice from the left-hand passage. More zombies as well as several caped giants resembling the L-Elm-Gan were heading towards Dash and Klek from that direction.

"Looks like our decision's been made for us," Dash muttered. He raced down the unobstructed central hall, with Klek just behind and a dozen monsters right on their heels.

They ran without looking back, but whenever they reached a crossroads or corner, Dash would pause and cover their trail by firing several audiobullets back at their pursuers. He was able to down several of the more decrepit zombies that way, and the rest of the creatures whom he struck were at least slowed down somewhat. However, more monsters continued to join the chase. Dash began to reconcile himself to the fact that he and Klek were fighting a losing battle. All they could do was hope that they stopped the First Consul's scheme before their stalkers caught up with them.

They had rounded more than a dozen corners when Dash heard Klek cry, "Dash, look!" Just around the next bend was an airlock. The lock was made entirely of transparent titanium, and so beyond it the Algoians could see yet another airlock. But guarding that second door was none other than the imposing L-Elm-Gan itself.

Having no recourse, Dash and Klek stormed through the first lock and sealed it behind them, cutting off the pursuit of the zombies and others. That action, however, left them trapped with the three and a half-meter tall black-robed monstrosity before them.

The L-Elm-Gan crossed its cadaverous arms and stared down at its opponents. A thick, forked tongue lashed about behind its semi-sheer mask.

"The First Consul feared you might somehow make it this far. I had less confidence in you. I suppose, however, that this is the reason why he is the First Consul."

Dash sneered and launched several shots directly at the dark priest's mask in rapid succession. The first bullets bounced off. The second volley appeared to be absorbed but had no obvious effect. The third, however, caused the towering demon to wail in pain and frustration.

"Do you think that pathetic water gun can harm me, you simpleton?" the L-Elm-Gan boomed. "You will die!" It flicked a finger on its left hand and cried out, "Negatis!"

There was a black flash, the very appearance of which greatly confused both Dash and Klek. How could darkness "flash?" And yet it had, blinding them both. Klek staggered but felt all right once his sight returned after a few seconds. He saw, however, that Dash had fallen to one knee and was bleeding from his nose and ears. The area around one of his eyes was bruised. It was as if he'd been drained of half his strength.

"Nares!" Klek shouted, pointing a narrow digit at Dash. A mellow light encompassed the pirate, and he stood and fired again. His shot struck the L-Elm-Gan's left hand, which was shattered. Tar slowly dripped from the wounded wrist, and the L-Elm-Gan gave a horrific howl. With its right hand it pointed at Klek and growled, "Telele!"

At once, Klek felt emotionally drained. Physically he felt no different, but his courage and will to struggle were suddenly depleted. Fortunately, Klek was familiar with techniques such as Gelun and Doran, and so he knew that their debilitating effects were more psychological than physical. Praying that the creature's strange Telele magic operated in the same fashion, he forced himself to stand tall. "Sashu!" he retorted. Two icy spheres sparkled into existence and encompassed Klek and Dash. "His strange magic should have no effect now!" the Dezorian shouted to his companion. "Hit him with whatever you've got!"

Unlike Klek, Dash had never had any talent for techniques. He'd always relied on brute strength and, when necessary, his masculine wiles. He was damn good with a gun, though, and he was even better with his hands and feet. So, after getting a brief running start, he vaulted himself into the air and rammed one of his thick laconia-plated garda boots right into the L-Elm-Gan's face. The fiend's mask was shattered and its helmet fell away. The creature writhed about and clawed with its remaining hand at where its protective faceplate should have been. Dash and Klek watched in disgust as the L-Elm-Gan's, decrepit, eyeless, and definitely non-living face began to steam and smolder. The L-Elm-Gan screamed in agony as the wispy hair and rotted flesh that covered its skull melted and fell away. In just seconds, only a charred skull remained, and the L-Elm-Gan was no more.