Star Metal 3

 

III

 

            Jaba led the way through the darkened avenues of Ta’al, passing in haste structures that men of science would have stopped for years to study even a small section of. His pace was swift though and Haquim kept stopping to allow the column of captives to catch up. Hassan stayed close to Adrian, pistol drawn to dissuade him from making an escape attempt. Finally the villagers caught up and the group set off again. Hassan looked sideways to Adrian and said “Mr. Morris you are fortunate. For the first time in thousands of years the rightful rulers of this ancient city will arise and you will be the instrument of their deliverance.” He wagged the pistol in the other man’s face, “Please do remember us when you become god?”

            “Have no fear that I will remember you, Arab.” Was Adrian’s only reply.

            The mob marched through the city for almost an hour before the ruins began to let go of their millennial degradation as, slowly, ancient buildings of complete form were to either side of Adrian.  Whatever good works that ancient queen had wrought were not quite capable of masking the unnatural and unsettling original architecture of the place. As they drew closer to what he assumed was the heart of the city the place became more and more obtuse to the natural eye while the angles of the buildings felt as if they were tightly acute. The stones of the road also ceased their regularity as the squared off pieces Adrian had noted before gave way to awkward geometric patterns and then to slabs of perfect roundness that still seemed to keep the tightly joined nature of the outer city road.

            Finally, he could see the peaks of minaret towers backlit by the light of the rising moon. Sitting low in the sky the orb glared hatefully at the procession from the heavens and Adrian could feel his sense of unrightness increase with every step he took. When the palace, or temple as Haquim had called it, came into view the vision was complete and Adrian, a man that held little fear in his heart, shuddered.  The temple rose in perfect symmetry to its surroundings and was all the more imposing as a silhouette against the angry moon. His nostrils twitched at the touch of ozone in the air; surely there was nothing good about this place.

            One of the Arabs motioned angrily with his rifle and Jaba pushed Adrian forward to the dark portal that led into the walls.  Once inside, the men began to set up the lamps that had blown over in the wind.  Haquim and Hassan stood over a raised granite platform that rose a few inches above the level of the rest of the floor. There was no trace of any light or sound emanating from it but Hassan still wore a concerned look on his face.

            Adrian settled his gaze on Haquim’s second, “Something wrong? You do not seem pleased that your revival has not occurred without you.”

            “Quiet heathen!” Hassan snapped. “Haquim, I fear that we have missed something important. Last time we were here this stone was flush to the floor.”

            Adrian was about to speak again when a soft rustle caught his attention. It had come from the far end of the chamber opposite the door that they had entered through. He turned slowly to try and penetrate the darkness in front of him but the weak light of the flashlights did not go far out from where he stood. He looked to Haquim with worry etched across his face “Haquim, we should go, leave this place and forget it exists. This is a place that man was not meant to know and you have disturbed its owners.”

            “What do you know of such matters Mr. Morris? I took you for a soldier not a scholar.” Haquim brusquely replied.

            Finally, one of the Arabs threw the switch of the generators that powered the lights and bathed the ruined throne room in artificial light. Adrian cinched his eyes shut against the unexpected blindness shaking his head from side to side trying to dim the glow inside of his eyelids. The villagers began screaming and tried to move towards the door in a terrified mass but their bonds only let them move so far.  Haquim, Hassan and Adrian turned to the other end of the room and froze.

            On the pedestal where once Sheba had held her court rose a roiling mass that glittered like mercury under the harsh glow of the phosphorescent lights. The abomination pulled itself up and Adrian had the sickening sensation that the three of them were being appraised by a mind that had seen stars quenched and that counted the passing of eons the way he marked hours. The Arabs fled bellowing in terror trying to escape the gaze of that hateful intelligence but the captives were not so fortunate and sank to the ground not having any means to get away from the creature. Adrian heard a scream that seemed far away but incredibly close.

            It was Hassan and the shrillness of the shriek was that of a man whose mind had been broken. To his right Adrian saw Haquim begin to draw his pistol but before he could bring the weapon up the silver mass quivered and sent a hail of yard long spikes hammering through Haquim’s chest. The spikes began to melt into his body and Adrian filched as the sound of tearing muscle, breaking bone and the screams of unbearable pain assailed his ears. The ruined corpse fell sickeningly to the ground. Adrian pulled at his bonds with all his strength breaking free then turned to the screaming Hassan delivering a devastating knee to the mans gut with such force that he buckled in half at the waist before collapsing to the floor.

            A tentacle of the metal monster began swimming through the air at Adrian. Crouching down he rummaged at Hassan’s belt and came up with the knife that was meant to sacrifice the people behind him ready to defend himself from the creature.  To his surprise the tentacle recoiled away from the blade. Pulling back from him, the main mass began to sway from side to side like a cobra trying to find an opportunity to strike.

            Adrian seized the initiative and with a brutal yell hurled the knife with all of his strength into the silver skinned fiend then dove to grab Haquim’s pistol.  As he came up preparing to fire the beast was thrashing violently against the back wall of the chamber. Where the blade had imbedded itself the silver of the creature was turning black and the color was bleeding outwards consuming the metallic abomination. Finally, the whipping ceased as the ancient horror froze in place blanketing the area in silence. Stalking up the steps of the throne’s dais he kept Haquim’s pistol leveled on the thing. There was nothing now, no ozone, no terror, no ancient beast. There was just silence.

            He gathered up the weapons that the Arabs had dropped in their flight from the temple and cut the ties that had bound the villagers for the last three days.

            “Go home,” he said “they’ll not return.”

            One of the old men in the group asked “Will you not come back with us? This is a cursed place.”

            “No, I will leave this place but I have other roads to travel.”

            The old man nodded his head and said simply “Travel safely then friend.”

            The villagers left Adrian alone in the ruins of Ta’al and he lingered a while pondering a question. If Solomon had indeed carried a weapon made of the same metal as his knife why then had he not simply slain this devil? The answer came to him suddenly; Solomon had not been a warrior. He had been a peace maker he did not have the heart to kill. So that is what Haquim had meant about his heart being useful before this was finished. He put together what supplies he could and left Ta’al. There were indeed other roads he must travel and the first of them would lead straight to Damascus.