The Atomic Sea: Volume Nine: War of the Abyss Read online

  THE ATOMIC SEA:

  PART NINE

  WAR OF THE ABYSS

  by Jack Conner

  Copyright 2019

  All rights reserved

  Cover image used with permission

  The World of the Atomic Sea

  Chapter 1

  Steam wreathed Avery. He smiled and settled deeper into the hot water, feeling his muscles unknit, relax. He was in one of the Town Father’s bathing chambers, all of stone and marble, and though it may not have been in the perfect condition it had originally been in, it seemed heavenly to Avery at that moment. He had been on the run or in otherwise uncomfortable positions for so long he couldn’t remember, and to have even this hint of luxury seemed extravagant … and welcome. Very, very welcome.

  He smiled wider, more drowsily, and lathered a hairy arm with soap, then a leg. Slowly, the water of the basin turned sudsy. A bell by the side of the basin would summon an attendant if the water grew too cool; as she had before, she would pour in a bucket of hot water, then another, keeping it warm for however long he wanted to stay in here. At the moment, he couldn’t see any reason to leave. Ever. Sleepily, he thought, Why not just stay here and let the others continue on without me? His days of adventuring were just about over—at least, to judge by the aches in his back and legs from being stuffed in that damned squid for so long.

  Vague movement caught his attention. He glanced up, his eyes opening wider, to see a blurry shape approaching him through the steam of the room. He fumbled for his glasses and shoved them back on, but the lenses were so fogged up he could barely see who it was, and when he did his mouth fell open.

  “Jess … I don’t think, we shouldn’t really …”

  Naked and grinning, she approached the basin and slid in. Her body was lean and hard, her legs muscular, her belly flat and taut, her breasts firm. Moisture glimmered in her hair and slowly turned it wet. Steely eyes sparkling with mischief, she came closer to him through the water, and he could feel her body between his legs. He sat up a bit straighter. His member, which had been pleasantly warmed and slightly engorged anyway, began to stiffen.

  Sheridan pressed her breasts against his chest and kissed him on the lips. He kissed back, his head spinning, and it seemed as if the kiss went on forever. His tongue played against hers, and his hands squeezed her tight buttocks. His member stiffened fully and rubbed at the spot between her legs. Maddeningly, he couldn’t shove it in because his legs still straddled her hips. Maybe, if he just moved position a bit …

  “No,” he said, hearing the rasp in his voice. “Jess, we shouldn’t. Layanna …”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. It was warm. “Don’t worry about her.”

  “But what if … ?”

  “Shhhh.”

  She sank beneath the water, leaving steam where she had been moments before. He couldn’t see her through the water, but he felt her hands caress his hard-on, then her mouth take him inside. He moaned as she bobbed her head up, then down, then up again. Her movements grew faster, and what with the heat and the steam he felt as he were about to both melt and erupt at the same time.

  Then, suddenly, another shape appeared through the boiling mist of the room. His heart nearly stopped.

  “Layanna …”

  The beautiful goddess approached him through the netherworld-like environment. He could no longer even see the wall, just the mist, the stone basin, and Layanna before him. She, like Sheridan, was naked, and dew glimmered on her erect nipples, which were small and pink-red. Her breasts were smaller than Sheridan’s, her legs longer and less muscular, but her body was just as tight, and her delicate shoulders and long neck gave her the appearance of a model. She flung one long leg over the side of the basin, then another.

  And still Sheridan continued to bob her head. Up, then down, then up …

  He gasped as she went down again, and one of her hands massaged his balls while the other stroked his thigh. Didn’t she need to come up for air? Didn’t she feel the presence of Layanna?

  Dear gods, he thought. Don’t come up now. It will be death for us all.

  Layanna came forward, foamy water bobbing around her breasts. Her long blond hair trailed in the water, the ends becoming wet.

  “Oh, Francis,” she said.

  “Layanna …”

  Up, then down, then up …

  He arched his back, biting back a cry of pleasure.

  “What is it, Francis?”

  “N-nothing.”

  She came forward. A chill coursed down him. The basin wasn’t that big. In just moments she would encounter Sheridan in the water—Sheridan, who still didn’t come up for breath. Just how long could she hold it?

  How long could he hold it? With her expert attentions, he felt he would explode at any moment.

  Layanna came even closer, descending a step, the water now just above her nipples. Moisture glimmered on those perfect spheres, and the heat made her cheeks red. Or was that passion?

  “Francis,” she said, and reached him. Didn’t she feel Sheridan?

  “Layanna …”

  She caressed his cheek and bent down to kiss him.

  Sheridan took him in even deeper, now up to the hilt. He moaned and trembled. Layanna seemed to take it as a good sign, as she kissed him hard. He kissed back, one of his hands cupping a firm breast and squeezing it. She gasped into his mouth.

  Sheridan rose from the water. Water dripped from her hair. Her lips were very red, and they were slightly open, panting for breath.

  She and Layanna stared at each other. Avery’s heart stopped.

  “You,” Layanna said.

  “You,” said Sheridan.

  Then, to his complete shock, Layanna and Sheridan bent their heads toward each other and kissed. Avery’s heart leapt back into life with a frantic lurch. He watched on, amazed, as their lips locked, tongues thrusting and playing about each other’s mouths. He could see them where their mouths didn’t quite lock together. Their soapy breasts, now revealed, pressed against each other.

  Unable to believe his good fortune, he reached forward …

  … and felt the pillow by his side. Groaning, a bit of saliva trickling out of the corner of his mouth, he cracked his eyes to find himself in bed, the spot beside him empty. Layanna stood at the window, staring out over the city. Hearing him, she turned back. Her eyebrows rose when she saw the tented sheets at his groin.

  “Having a good dream?”

  He shook his head, the fantasy only just fading. It was so real. Then, on the heels of that, If only it was …

  Layanna took mercy on him. She had only been wearing a sheet draped around her, but now she flung it to the floor and slid back into bed with him. “I think we need to do something about that,” she said.

  And, so saying, she did.

  * * *

  Avery and his party had been given fine rooms and time to settle in while the feast was prepared. They had arrived at a fortuitous time, as the kitchen had just begun to prepare their lord’s evening meal, and so it was fully staffed and ready to alter plans for the night without too much fuss. The guests were given new clothes, groomed, bathed and pampered, then summoned to the Feasting Chamber, a high hall whose ancient, petrified wooden walls had been coated in Ral’ist’ti sap. Avery floated into it like a feather unto a cloud. Did the Town Father spend his days like this, intoxicated on the sap, or was this only for special occasions?

  Servants wheeled out carts laden with succulent dishes, braised venison, gourd casserole, roasted quail, spiced pork, green beans dripping in butter sauce. Other, less identifiable items were present, too, including several obvious dishes from the sea or l
and animals that had been infected by same, but as these had not been processed they were not given to Layanna’s party … although, once all the guests were served, she requested several herself, and as she enthusiastically tore into a plate of bright blue crab with too many legs, Avery tried not to wince.

  Thunder shook the hall, and lightning lit up windows that had been crudely installed into once fine frames; the original windows must have shattered centuries ago. The dinner party had a fine view of the sea from here, and Avery could see that it seemed particularly turbulent tonight, arcs of energy blasting off of it in frequent bursts and stabbing the clouds overhead, lighting up whole inky banks. Thunder rolled, and gas pockets exploded regularly. A sea-storm. Seeing it through the heady fumes of the Ral’ist’ti sap, Avery gasped at its awesomeness and felt himself start with every punch of thunder.

  “Something’s got it riled up tonight,” Janx said, and Avery did not miss the divot that appeared between Layanna’s eyes. What was he missing?

  “The Lords of the Deep are angry,” said Hi’il’ichi from the head of the table. His family sat on his left side in descending order of official importance, starting with his wife and working down to his fourth daughter; he had seven children. At his feet stretched a strange bird-like thing about the size of a large dog and seeming to occupy the same role; from time to time the Town Father would pet it or offer it a bite from his plate, which it would accept with a snap of its long sharp beak, preening.

  “Oh?” said Layanna, sitting on his right. Avery sat next to her, then Janx, then Sheridan.

  Hi’il’ichi’s face darkened, and Avery thought he might be blushing. “Excuse me, Your Worship. I did not mean to speak for you.”

  “No, please, tell me what you refer to.”

  He looked too embarrassed to continue, but the priestess Tavril’in saved him. “He means because we failed. We tried to take over the island, seize it in the name of the Great Ones, but because of our unworthiness we were defeated. That must be why you’re here, Your Grace, to punish us.”

  A ripple of unease passed around the table. Even the servants along the walls shifted in discomfort.

  “Nothing could be further from the truth,” Layanna assured them all. “I’ve come to save your people, not destroy them.” She paused, and Avery could see her debating on how much to share with them. “There are enemies here. Beings that mean your people harm—as well as mine.”

  “But what could harm gods?” said one of Hi’il’ichi’s sons, a black-carapaced boy of perhaps fifteen, though it was hard to tell for sure.

  “Apparently we can be harmed by sap, so even we have our weaknesses.”

  Avery downed a sip of wine, finding it overly tart but potent. “Town Father, is there any more news on the pirates?”

  Hi’il’ichi inclined his head, as if he’d been expecting the question. “Yes, the brutes have not wasted any time. They’ve already started to advance inland, and the populations of four villages have already scattered ahead of them. They’ve sent out birds, telling everyone on the Rim to be on guard until the pirates pass into the Core.”

  “Is that where they’re going, the Core?” said Layanna.

  “Yes, Your Grace. They appear to be heading toward Vinithir, the capital city of the Core.”

  Avery suddenly felt hot. He exchanged eager looks with the others. Vinithir—that had to be where the Monastery was located … or would be, when the Sleeper brought it back to this world.

  “How long’ll it take the pirates to reach this Vinithir?” Janx said.

  “I don’t know,” Hi’il’ichi said. “Perhaps five or six days at their current rate.”

  This gives us a little time, Avery thought. Not much, but some.

  “At first I was surprised that the pirates didn’t attack Vinithir directly, if that indeed is their goal—and it couldn’t be anything else, not along that trajectory,” the Town Father went on. “After all, Vinithir has a large port. Then I realized how insane an attack on the capital by sea would be. It has a harbor, but to get to it you have to descend the cliffs. The city is perched high on the cliffs, and it has many large guns pointing out to sea. A land attack makes much more sense.”

  “The pirates won’t let their ships go to waste,” Janx said. “They’ll use the infantry to take out the guns along the cliffs, then bring their ships into the harbor. The ships have cannons and such they can bring to bear in a fight. And then there’s their airships. Surprised they don’t just bomb the cannons and such.”

  “Vinithir has anti-aircraft guns,” Hi’il’ichi said. “They’ll pose a problem for the airships.”

  “Guess Segrul means to have his infantry take those out, too.”

  “Town Father, this may seem like an odd question,” Avery said, “but we need to make contact with the mainland. Do you have some sort of radio that can communicate across the water?”

  “The sea interferes with any transmission at this altitude. You would have to venture into the Core to find such a device, if it can be found there, although I have heard that their intercontinental transmitters have been destroyed one by one in the fighting. Just the fact that they had them at some point says something about the Corers, though, I must admit. They’ve retained the old civilization in far finer stead than we have. The chaos of the Change hit us hard, and we’ve never fully recovered.” He gestured to the crudely-installed windows, then to the cracks in the walls. “When one of these old buildings fall, we just cram more people into the existing ones. It’s either that or live in huts. We’ve lost the old ways.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” said his wife, sounding as though she had to force herself to speak in the presence of Layanna. “We’ll recover some day, and when we do we’ll do it far better than those Corers.” She said the word disdainfully. “We’ll raise Eberlith higher than it’s ever been since before the days of the Pyramid Builders.”

  “What do you know of the Pyramid Builders?” Sheridan said.

  “We don’t talk about them,” said Tavril’in, despite the fact that the Town Father’s wife had just done so, “or their heathen gods.”

  “The ghosts,” Janx said. “That what you mean?”

  “Pagan horrors from another time.”

  “Please,” Layanna said, obviously trying to sound gentle. “Go on. Tell us about them, and yourselves. I confess that we know little about Eberlith.”

  Avery was glad she’d asked the question. Now that his party knew they would have to contend with the inner workings of the island and its people, they needed to know what they were dealing with.

  Tavril’in sat straighter, and a serene smile appeared on her face, an expression made just a little tipsy (so Avery thought) by the fumes of the sap; she existed in her element now. “For us, time began with the Change.”

  “The advent of the Atomic Sea, you mean?” said Avery.

  “Of course. At that time the old world, the old Eberlith, was washed away, never to be recovered—” she shot a sharp look at the Town Father’s wife, who glanced away “—but a new, better age was born. We were brought into being—the people of the sea. It changed us, fashioned us into its own image, and the Lords of the Deep spoke to us, came to us in the form of great squids. They met our fisherfolk, made themselves known, and soon all of us worshipped them and paid them homage in blood. Eventually a herald arrived, shaped like a man, and he, or one of his brothers and sisters, have come to us often ever since. We serve the Great Ones, and are proud to do so.”

  Avery remembered the baths (both the real ones and the ones from his dreams). The serving woman had had to bring the pails of hot water up one bucket at a time. Couldn’t your gods have taught you the secrets of indoor plumbing, at least? Perhaps electricity? They had done much more for the people of Octung, after all. These are not their Chosen People, Avery reminded himself. These people were brainwashed in case of a last-minute contingency … which seems to have come to pass.

  “But those in the Core weren’t Changed,” Sh
eridan said, making it a statement.

  “No, only we on the Rim,” Tavril’in continued. “Those closest to the sea. Those high enough or far enough inland escaped its fumes and were able to live off creatures that had not been touched by it.”

  “Are the people of the Core …” Avery cleared his throat and sort of smiled, feeling suddenly sheepish. “Are they, ah, gold?” It's what Janx had told him.

  He had expected her to laugh or at least smile, but she didn’t so much as bat an eye. “Yes, as were we all once,” Tavril’in said. “But we were blessed by the sea, while they remained in their unenlightened, pagan state. Great wars were fought between us and them, Rim and Core, but in all the centuries since neither have been able to prevail. Other islands in the chain have fared differently—on some it’s gone one way, some another. Some still struggle as we do.”

  “Actually,” Hi’il’ichi said, “we had managed to make peace with the Corers before the arrival of the Octunggen. For the last hundred years we’ve traded with them, had relations with them. Some of us even moved to live amongst them—though, I admit, they have not treated us as equals even then. They make us live in separate quarters of their towns and forbid us to marry or have children with their own.”

  “An abominable practice,” said Tavril’in, not willing to be seen as disloyal before her goddess—or perhaps she really was that dogmatic. “We should never have treated with them as equals. We are not. They refuse the blessings of the sea, of the Lords of the Deep, and must suffer for it. They will convert or they will die.” Her eyes darted to Layanna, as if to make sure this was the proper sentiment, but Layanna’s face betrayed no expression. “At any rate, the practice is over now. When Lady Jivini arrived with her Octunggen, trade stopped and the war resumed, this time with the Octunggen’s aid.”

  “Did they say why they wanted to take this island?” Avery said. For a moment fear rose in him. Had Octung known of the Monastery all along? Surely not, he thought. If they had, they wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble to find its location.