AWAITING THE IHVKUHN-LO’S arrival, an oddly familiar sensation grew within Daggeira. Intuitively, she understood Godsfall as a body, her new body, yet she was still rooted to her old one of flesh and bone. And it hungered. She recalled the emaciated forms of the Final Masters, and in remembering, felt their hunger, too.
Gravitational fields extended from Godsfall’s hull, scooped up the flash-frozen corpses of defeated vleez, and drew them near. Instead of bouncing off, they stuck to the hull. Like heavy stones sinking into deep, soft mud, the superweapon absorbed them. Obscure processes broke down the usable organic compounds and channeled them to where they would sustain her. Still, her hunger remained.
Eventually, the Pyramid Ihvik-Ri opened a hangar door, and the High Godseer’s shuttle flanked by talon gunships issued forth. The talons broke off to intercept and board the captured Monarchy warship. The grandiose shuttle, its hull illuminated with intricate, interlocking designs, maneuvered to dock with Godsfall.
Daggeira tried extending an airlock to mate with the shuttle, but again aspects of Godsfall were shut off from her will. No intuitive understanding came to her explaining why.
You chose me to control your drilling weapon, she shouted into the liquid crystal realm. I stand atop the pyramid, and you will see me and do what I command. Now.
Daggeira felt the outer hull bubble, extruding a tentacle to the shuttle and mating with its airlock. The passageway between ships solidified and pressurized. Since she could not greet High Godseer Atu Madzo herself, she sent Abomination Zika and a handful of small drones. She watched the airlock dilate open through a drone's sensors.
Attendant Bolta emerged first. The High Godseer may have claim over Daggeira, but the Pinnacle would make sure his presence was felt through his attendant. She stood sturdy and tall as a pillarwood tree in her grank scale armor. Intended for vessel-to-vessel boarding and defense, her armor didn’t feature a stealth field emitter and was bulkier than the infiltration armor Daggeira had worn, though it remained mobile and articulate enough for close-quarters combat. Daggeira instinctively pinpointed the few weak spots. The visor. The slim gaps at the knees and wrists.
“Mother of Life, have mercy,” Attendant Bolta whispered, shifting the grip on her palukai. Ready to strike. Her lips curled and eyes narrowed at the sight of Abomination Zika. As big and imposing as Bolta stood, the dead warseer, reanimated and melded into the machine body, loomed over her.
“Welcome aboard, Attendant Bolta,” Abomination Zika said. Or was it Daggeira speaking through her? She still couldn’t differentiate between her unconscious reflexes and Godsfall’s own autonomous actions.
“Where is Third Drum Daggeira?” Bolta asked, not hiding her revulsion.
“At the heart. The center of the center. I will take you to her.” Abomination Zika’s voice sounded as charred and coarse as her blackened wounds.
“I think not,” said a nasally voice from the airlock. Chosen Altaro entered, followed by Chosen Scripturo and Chanto. They trembled at the sight of the abomination, barely holding their composure.
Chosen Altaro turned ahns attention from abomination to attendant. “The servant belongs to High Godseer Atu Madzo and ahns patron Master. Ahns Holiness will be the first to speak with the third drum.”
“I must verify it is safe for the High Godseer first,” Bolta insisted. “I have been commanded by the Pinnacle.”
“This vessel is the property of the High Godseer by conquest. We follow ahns orders here.”
“No harm will come to the High Godseer,” Abomination Zika said. “We didn’t slag the vermin forces and defend our home only to turn traitors now.”
“We?” Bolta asked.
But her question was left hanging as an announcement of grand horns and gongs issued from the airlock. The attendant and three chosen genuflected. Abomination Zika bowed its monstrous head.
Amid a shimmer of voluminous green and silver robes, the Ihvkuhn-Lo emerged. Lonno Atu Madzo’s three yellow-orange eyes barely flickered toward Abomination Zika before staring ahead into the depths of the crystalline corridor. The High Godseer lifted ahns hand and the others stood. The grandiose blare announcing ahns arrival faded into a long reverberating hum. Peeking behind the Atu Madzo’s stubby horns, a trigonal pyramid of holy ore floated on a small hover pod. Mother of Life’s glyph burned green on its surface.
“Take me to my property, Attendant,” ahn said.
“Your Holiness.” Bolta turned to the inner corridors branching off in different directions and took a tentative step. Wordlessly, Abomination Zika plodded forward and guided them deeper into the ancient superweapon. Its clanging footfalls echoed through the arched passages.
Daggeira felt the High Godseer drawing nearer like hot needles pricking her face and spine. Though it didn’t manifest as the oven-blast gale of the Final Masters, ahns presence was undeniable. Particular scents also preceded Atu Madzo. The sharp tang of biomech oils and the faint, acrid taste of holy ore. Through the drones, Daggeira heard the pulsing wwaawuum wwaawuum from the heart cavity as they neared.
Strange that the High Godseer came with only ahns human chosen, and no other godseers. At least three more Akuhn-Lo were on the Ihvik-Ri. Perhaps ahn required their presence, and the reach of ahns influence, to remain in the battleship pyramid.
Abomination Zika led them to the lip of the cavity overlooking the heart of Godsfall. The small balcony expanded at their approach, crackling out of the concave wall. Once they stepped onto the balcony, the abomination retreated back into the corridor.
“Is Divine Will not glorious?” Atu Madzo spread ahns arms wide as if to embrace the cavity and the spinning geometry and suspended bodies within. “Does not the wisdom of Star Father turn Trickster’s own schemes against Ahn? Had Trickster’s seed not taken root in the apostate’s heart, we would never have sent our young Third Drum Daggeira to go fetch her. And she never would have brought us back such a glorious weapon to be unified under Divine Will.”
“Your forgiveness, your Holiness,” Attendant Bolta said. “But this . . . weapon will surely be judged profane by the Pinnacle. This is a place of abominations.”
Atu Madzo deigned to turn one yellow-orange eye toward Bolta. “You would question my insights into Divine Will, Human?”
“Not at all, your Holiness! I only know the expressed will of Pinnacle Bohru Jerik, whom I am honored to attend.”
Atu Madzo gestured toward Chosen Scripturo, who opened an ornamental case ahn had been carrying. Chosen Altaro withdrew a mitre of three long, skeletal spires. The same Atu Madzo had worn during Daggeira’s transfiguration. Altaro bowed ahns head and offered the headpiece to the High Godseer. Once Atu Madzo placed the mitre atop ahns nine horns, blue light radiated from within it. The trigonal pyramid of holy ore floating beside the High Godseer thrummed louder. Its glyphs burned brighter.
The sensation of pricking needles in Daggeira’s face amplified into stabbing jolts. Her spine ignited with agony. Each vertebra threatened to splinter and explode from the internal pressure, forcing her mind to reel back from the surging pain. Back from the small drones and Abomination Zika. Back from the full spectrum senses. Back from her own flesh and blood body, hanging limply in the air. Back, back, back, falling helplessly into the lowest depths of the liquid crystal world.
No, she pleaded voicelessly, pathetically. See me! Not this. Not this . . .
“Come now, Attendant Bolta. Can’t you see Pinnacle Bohru Jerik’s will is of no concern outside his own battered pyramid?” The High Godseer’s voice reached Daggeira as a staticky echo. Lonno Atu Madzo, a fractalized ghost of colors and jagged shapes rose ever higher as Daggeira descended ever deeper. Ahn pointed a thick, silvery finger toward the desiccated aliens in their golden sarcophagi, toward the sphered polyhedron turning at the center of the heart cavity, and the rings of aku-vayk spheres orbiting around it.
“This weapon is mine.”