Berserker (Messenger Book 2) Read online

“So basically, you're just a bunch of pawns,” Janice said.

  Aksinya hissed, “Someone needs to put this saucy little wench in her place.”

  Janice glanced over her shoulder and smirked at her auburn haired captor. “Oh, what's the matter, Red? Did I hit a little too close to the mark with that one?”

  Aksinya returned Janice's grin with an icy glare. “I can't believe someone like this is a Perfect Messenger.”

  “That will do, Dame Aksinya,” Pierson said. “Save your judgments until after she's awakened.”

  Aksinya humphed and tossed her hair, refusing to look Janice in the eyes. Janice laughed to herself at the childish gesture and turned her gaze back to the front. At least she could get some small satisfaction out of harassing her captors.

  The escorts reached a T junction and took a right turn. They followed the passage in a straight line for a long way, then the guards stopped and fanned out in front of a pair of giant stone doors. The three-eyed emblem of the Xenolists had been carved into the doors and accented with red dye. Janice sensed a presence behind the doors that sent a shock of fear through her mind and body.

  Pierson stepped in front of Janice and pushed the doors open, revealing a staircase that led deep into the earth. He bowed and gestured for her to go first.

  “After you, my lady.”

  Waves of malice emanated from the staircase with the force of a physical barrier. Everything inside Janice screamed at her to flee. As she hesitated, Aksinya pushed her from behind, sending her stumbling through the doors.

  “Aksinya,” Pierson warned.

  “Just giving her a little encouragement,” Aksinya said.

  Pierson and Aksinya entered the staircase, closing the door behind them. Janice swallowed her fear and took one hesitant step down, then another. The path was lit with shimmering blue lights that cut monstrous shadows out of the roughly hewn stone. As Janice fell into a rhythm, she found it easier to force herself to keep descending, although every step filled her with deepening dread.

  A bizarre keening sound issued forth from the depths, echoing through the stone in an alien feedback loop that made the back of Janice's head throb. It could have been the breaths of a clockwork dragon, or notes being played on a crystalline organ. Never in her life had Janice heard such a strange noise. It bespoke of a mighty entity, ancient beyond reckoning, charged with otherworldly wisdom and a destructive will. It was everywhere, seeping through everything, permeating the world with its inhuman cry. Even as it repulsed her, something deep within her was fascinated by the demon's cry, awed by its dark majesty; and that realization only made her more afraid.

  Then she began to notice dark stains on the walls. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that they were faded remains of flesh and some kind of fluid—probably blood. With every step she took down, she realized that the stains were growing brighter, the blood fresher. The Voice was calling out to her, beckoning her deeper into its domain.

  These stains aren't old, Janice thought. And if they're becoming fresher the deeper I descend, then I'm following whatever put these stains here into the depths.

  That thought brought her to a sudden halt. Shaking with fear, she glanced at Pierson and Aksinya behind her and whimpered, “I can't do this. I want to go back.”

  Aksinya heaved an exasperated sigh. “What is your problem?”

  “Can't you hear that cry?” Janice exclaimed.

  Pierson shook his head. “I don't hear anything, Janice.”

  With a trembling finger, she pointed at the nearest stain. “Can't you see these stains?”

  Aksinya planted a hand on her hip and looked down at Janice with contempt. “What is up with this girl? Is she cracking up?”

  “No,” Pierson said in a reverential whisper, his face alight with sudden understanding. “It's speaking to her. The Voice of the Xenowave.”

  Aksinya cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

  “Keep going,” Pierson encouraged Janice. “It's not much farther now. Your destiny waits at the bottom of these stairs.”

  Unable to suppress her trembling, Janice continued unsteadily down the stairs. Without warning, the keening fell silent and the bloody stains vanished from her sight. She realized she had come to the bottom, where a pair of masked guards bearing halberds stood before a stained glass door. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the distance from the top was only a fraction of what she had perceived it to be.

  “What the hell?” she whispered.

  “This is her,” Pierson said, drawing up beside Janice. “The Unknown. The Perfect Messenger.” He swept out one hand and commanded, “Let us pass.”

  The guards retracted their halberds. Pierson opened the door and beckoned Janice through. She took a deep breath, then stepped into the chamber beyond.

  She found herself in an arched chamber supported by helical columns. Azure shafts of light fell from the vaulted ceiling, spilling pools of light into the darkness. Janice could just make out a pair of hunched forms like giant insects clinging to the shadowy recesses of the ceiling, but her gaze was drawn inexorably to the object looming in the center of the shrine. It was an enormous container covered by macabre, faceless carvings, suspended from the roof by chains. Janice could tell immediately that the dark waves she had felt earlier emanated from this foul sarcophagus.

  “What is that?” she whispered.

  “It's called the Cage,” a woman's voice answered, echoing in the huge space.

  A tall woman emerged from behind one of the columns. Like all Xenolists, she was clad in black robes; but hers were the most ornamented that Janice had seen yet, and the cowl pulled over her brow concealed her entire face except for her pale chin.

  “The Cage?” Janice turned back to the container. “What's inside it?”

  “The source of everything,” a boyish voice called from the opposite direction.

  A second figure clothed in extravagant regalia emerged from behind a column on Janice's right. Like his counterpart, this one's hood was pulled low over his face, concealing his features; but Janice could make out a wide mouth curled into a smug grin. A cape of silver feathers trailed from the shoulders of his cloak, glittering in the blue light.

  “What is this, hide and seek?” Janice said. “Isn't that cute.”

  “It's one thing to subject us to your ill manners,” Aksinya interjected. “But to speak in such a tone to the Regents is inexcusable.”

  “It is no matter, Dame Aksinya,” the man on the right said.

  “You and Captain Pierson have served us well in bringing Janice Runner to us,” the woman on the left said. “We will discuss your wasteful expenditure of resources later.”

  “Now leave us,” the man on the right commanded.

  “But my lords,” Aksinya objected, “do we not have a right to see for ourselves why we sacrificed so much to bring this girl—”

  The boyish tone vanished from the cloaked man's voice, replaced by icy impatience. “We have told you to leave us, Dame Aksinya. The Regents do not care to repeat themselves.”

  “I—I'm sorry, Lord Wizard.”

  Janice stifled a snort while Pierson and Aksinya bowed and slithered out of the room. Once they were gone, she crossed her arms and looked disdainfully at her hosts.

  “So you're Wizard,” she nodded to the man. “And what kind of ridiculous name did you come up with for yourself?” she asked the other one.

  “I am called Regina,” the woman said, unfazed by Janice's hostility.

  “Well, I'm here,” Janice said. “But I'll tell you the same thing I told your goons. You're crazy if you think drawing out my power is a good idea. You don't even begin to comprehend the darkness of this thing that speaks to me.”

  “Is that so?” Wizard said with amusement. He walked up to Janice and stopped an arm's length away from her. “You've probably heard this before, but I believe it is you who lacks comprehension.”

  “Yeah, and it's no more persuasive now than it was the first time I heard it,” Janice
replied.

  “What about now?”

  Wizard threw back his hood, revealing the face of a handsome young man with silky black hair, his mouth twisted into a narcissistic smile. But what drew Janice's full attention was the third eye gleaming in his forehead, staring at her with inhuman intensity. She screamed and fell, scrambling away from him on all fours.

  “W—what in Thera's name...?”

  “There's no need to be afraid,” Wizard replied. “I am a Syneger—a Synthetic Messenger. As is my counterpart here.”

  On cue, Regina threw back her own cowl. She was older than Wizard, with long black hair and heavy-lidded eyes that looked disdainfully at everything they saw; and like Wizard, a third eye gleamed on her pale forehead.

  “Synegers are a product of Theran research,” Wizard continued. “Unlike natural Messengers, we do not suffer terminal genetic breakdown, nor do we possess uncontrollable diffusion organelles that disperse our condition to those around us. So you see, you have nothing to fear from us.”

  “You seem pretty terrifying to me,” Janice replied, her voice an octave higher than normal.

  Wizard chuckled. Regina walked behind Janice, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her gently to her feet.

  “That,” she said, “is only because you fear what you do not understand.”

  “Technically, we're a little different from Synegers as originally envisioned by the Union's researchers,” Wizard said. “They created their Synegers by fusing designer embryos with custom made alien organisms grown from cloned Messenger cells. We, on the other hand, were born as normal humans.”

  “Perhaps 'normal' is too strong a word,” Regina corrected her counterpart. “Out of millions of humans, we have been chosen—gifted—with uniquely high compatibility for receiving repil radiation. We call people with such one in a million genetics Perfect Messengers.”

  “People like yourself,” Wizard added.

  “But I—I don't have three eyes,” Janice stammered.

  Regina laughed softly. “Goodness, no. And neither did we. Even Perfect Messengers are not born in this sublime form.”

  “Then how...?” Janice trailed off.

  “It's quite simple,” Wizard said. “What do you think would happen if you were to inject a normal person with cells from a Syneger?”

  “I—I don't know.” Janice's head was reeling, preventing her from thinking clearly. “They would get Messenger syndrome and die?” she guessed.

  “Exactly.” Wizard clapped his hands together. “But if you were to take those same cells and inject them into someone with the right genetics...”

  “A Perfect Messenger,” Regina clarified.

  “Then what do you think would happen?” Wizard finished.

  Janice was beginning to understand. “Then they become a Syneger too,” she said slowly.

  “Yes,” Wizard exclaimed with satisfaction. “I thought vapid entertainers were supposed to be imbeciles, but you seem perfectly bright.”

  Already, Janice was beginning to acclimate to her hosts' strange appearances, melting some of her fear. “Thanks a lot,” she replied acidly.

  “We founded the Xenolists to study this phenomenon,” Regina explained. “It turns out that there is more than one type of Messenger, and each type manifests its powers in different ways. For example, Wizard is an Observer. That means he can see into the minds of others, and use that knowledge to predict their future actions.”

  Wizard pulled his arms inside his cloak and raised them over his head, causing his feathery cape to expand like wings. A pair of metal spheres emerged from within his regalia and hovered at his sides, emitting faint metallic chirps.

  “Just so.” Wizard took Janice's chin in his hands and brought her face within centimeters of his own. “With my power, I can see that, beneath your surface terror, the deeper part of yourself—the truer part—is drawn to us. You can see that we have transcended our humanity, and you desire that transcendence for yourself.”

  Janice pried herself from his grip. “That's not true. I don't want anything to do with you people.”

  Wizard chuckled. “You can lie to yourself, Janice. But you can't lie to me.”

  “You are one of us, whether you wish it or not,” Regina said. “But you are a particularly fascinating case. Although you have the genetic code of a Perfect Messenger, you are a type that we have never encountered before.”

  “An Unknown,” Wizard said.

  Janice didn't like the sound of that. “What does that mean?”

  “It means exactly what it sounds like,” Regina replied. “We don't know how your powers will manifest themselves once you've undergone the Syneger transformation.”

  “Well if that's all you want to know, I can tell you right now,” Janice said. “My powers will bring death.”

  “That's fine,” Wizard replied with a shrug. “All is the will of the Xenowave. Creation always entails a little destruction.”

  “Maybe I'm not interested in this stupid transformation of yours,” Janice said. “What if I refuse to cooperate?”

  Wizard's smug smile widened as his third eye glittered. “You won't refuse.”

  “I damn well will refuse,” Janice shouted. “Especially since no one will tell me what they want from me. What do you plan to make me do after I've become a Syneger?”

  Regina looked genuinely confused. “You mean to tell me you don't understand?” She gave a motherly smile and wrapped an arm around Janice's shoulders. “Dear, we won't 'make' you do anything. Once you've become a Syneger, you will join the ranks of the Regents and contribute your voice to charting the course of the Xenolists.”

  “Oh yeah?” Janice said. “What if my first decree was to disband this fruity organization for good?”

  “Synegers express the will of the Xenowave,” Wizard said. “If that were truly the Xenowave's desire, then of course we would obey.”

  “So you're saying I'll turn into a mindless puppet for alien space radiation? Sounds real inviting.”

  “Not at all, dear,” Regina said. “We are not puppets. We retain our own will. But now that we receive the thoughts of the Xenowave, we can experience its infinite wisdom for ourselves. We freely choose to carry out its will because we can perceive the superiority and benevolence of its designs. You will understand once your powers come into their own.”

  Regina released her grip on Janice, and Wizard came forward to put his hands on her shoulders. “Think about it, Janice,” he said. “What is humanity? A parasitic race that drains its environment of natural resources and slaughters its own kind in the name of power, territory, ideology, or even just for the sheer pleasure of it. No other form of life behaves this way. This, with their superior intellect, and still they carry on in a manner more disgraceful than the basest beasts.”

  “Not everyone is like that,” Janice objected. “There is nobility in humans too.”

  “A powerless minority,” Wizard scoffed. “If it were not so, then how has mankind pushed itself to the brink of extinction time and time again? Genocide, starvation, population imbalances, the casual deployment of world-destroying super weapons.”

  He let go of Janice and began pacing in front of her, punctuating his tirade with forceful gestures, while his metal spheres revolved around him in a spasmodic orbit. “And now once again they stand on the precipice. For centuries mankind has lived under an exploitative empire that treats its subjects like cattle, and the people acquiesced as long as they could drown their sorrows in lives of virtual debauchery. Those few with the courage to long for something better scraped together a resistance to fight for independence, and how has that worked out? First they established a government more cruel and tyrannical than the one they broke away from, and now they have unleashed death upon their own people. If they cannot rule this world, then they would rather see it destroyed. Mankind is disgusting!”

  Janice withered under the vehemence of Wizard's tirade. She searched for words to refute him, and found none.

/>   Wizard grabbed her again, digging his fingers into her shoulders. “You long to be better than that, Janice. I know, because we were the same. You can rise above the perversions of your race and become something greater. We do it not only for ourselves. We have a plan to spread our gift to everyone on Chalice, to free mankind from its unending cycle of hatred. Once you've become like us, we will show you how we can accomplish this.”

  “We lack only the power to see it through,” Regina said. “The Cage has told us that when you awaken, you will become the sword we need to cut down those who stand in the way of salvation. You are the key, Janice.”

  “I'm... the key?”

  Janice dislodged herself from Wizard's painful grip and stumbled away from the Regents. Her head was spinning, but she could still think clearly enough to recognize the hypocrisy in their words. However much they prattled on about their superiority to humanity, they still seemed very human to her. Beneath their claims of altruistic motives, they only craved the same power over others sought by all megalomaniacs. She was utterly uninterested in their plan for humanity's salvation.

  “Janice.”

  It was not Wizard or Regina who had spoken her name. Confused, Janice looked around the shrine for a third person.

  “Here, Janice.”

  She followed the sound of the voice. It was emanating from the Cage. It spoke softly, invitingly. Fascinated, Janice walked slowly toward it, reaching out with one hand.

  “The Regents are my loyal servants,” the Voice spoke in her mind. “But they misunderstand one thing about my designs.”

  “Of course,” Janice whispered in reply. “Of course they do.”

  “You already realize, don't you?” the Voice said. “I am not offering to make you a higher form of life than humanity. I would make of you something less than human. A shadow. A monster.”

  Yes, Janice thought. This was the promise that had been pulling at her for so long. For all his crazed ravings, Wizard was right about one thing. Mankind was disgusting. The strong destroyed each other and fed on the weak, while the weak embraced their savage overlords and wallowed in the mud of their own selfish perversions. Janice had once thought that she loved people, and that they had loved her in return. But after she had slaved for years to keep them satisfied with the best entertainment she could offer, a few sleazy news reports had turned them against her in droves, showering her with their vitriolic bile. First the Concord had jailed her for no reason; then the Union had come to start another war, bringing death to thousands of people; and in retaliation the Concord had unleashed indiscriminate death across Chalice, raising the death toll to millions.