NetherWorld - Daniel Pagan (to read list .TXT) 📗
- Author: Daniel Pagan
Book online «NetherWorld - Daniel Pagan (to read list .TXT) 📗». Author Daniel Pagan
Whizzy and Jeeves exchanged puzzled looks. Jeeves mouthed the words ‘told you’.
“My, young Murphy here is a strapping young Byte with vibrant black tubes,” Patches said the Whizzy.
“Oh yeah. Murphy! Of course. He’s the silent type. Likes to let others do the talking,” explained Whizzy, playing along as best he could. “You’ll have to talk with me instead.”
“You! Your tubes are not black like all leaders of NetherWorld. You are just a common foot soldier. Let me talk to your friend instead.”
“Sir. He really doesn’t talk. Old war injury you know.”
“Ah. Understood. Well now, what brings you here this fine day?” asked Patches
“So, Sir. We have a dilemma and need your help.” said Whizzy.
“Do you know who I am young Byte? Only the most decorated military mind in all of NetherWorld. I am needed in the Silver Forest to battle a rougue band of chips later today. Don’t waste my time with trivial matters. This had better be important or I will have the High Council call for your batching.” Patches was more that irritated that Whizzy was nothing more than a common aqua byte grown pale by taint.
“Well sir, I work for Tera. She has sent me to bring the Chosen One to her for the Joining.”
“Joining? You buy into that voodoo mumbo gumbo. Poppycock I say. In my day, we evolved separately and everything was just fine. Look at this world now. A complete mess.”
“With respect, I really need your help to find the Chosen One. NazKlan captured him and sent him to the Bin.”
“NazKlan is a lunatic. Whatever he’s up to it cannot be good. I served with his precursor in the Chip Wars. He was a surly Byte who was always plotting to gain more power. He was deleted for treason when NazKlan was still in the design phase. As NazKlan came into his own, he harbored similar subversive views. How he ever got on the High Council, I will never know. He is a smooth talker that one. Silver speakered devil.”
“I haven’t heard that before sir. It sounds terrible. Do you think you could help me find my friend?”
Patches spun pensively, stroking his equator with his claw. The motion wafted elderly odor in Whizzy’s direction. It appears even in NetherWorld, old people often smelled like they were marinated in Ben Gay.
“Hmmm. Save the Chosen One and foil NazKlan. Sounds like an interesting mission. I suppose I could help, but be quick about it. I’ve got places to be,” said the General.
“Ok. The Chosen One, Nick, is in the Bin. I need to get him out. What do you think? Can you help?” asked Whizzy.
“Hmmm. The Bin, eh? Last place you ever want to be trapped. That Thrasher is an evil bastard. No streams lead directly to the Bin. You know that?”
“Yes, General. Is there any other way to the Bin?”
“There is one, but I cannot guarantee it will work. There are unspeakable things in the Bin. They will rend you to pieces if you don’t come in armed and ready.”
“I am ready. How do I get there?”
“My dear boy,” he shifted in his spinning chair, “you are not ready. But I think, with my help, you may have chance of getting out there alive.”
“I’m listening,” said Whizzy, taping his plunger feet impatiently. Little sucking sounds bounced off the floor.
“You must take the SubRoots. This is an ancient set of tunnels that lie below all of NetherWorld. It was the domain of the Data Miners until the SubRoots destabilized NetherWorld. They still exist today, but have decayed over the cycles.”
“SubRoots. Tell me more.”
“The High Council stopped the excavation cycles ago because they feared the tunnels would weaken the foundation of NetherWorld. Because of this, the SubRoots are unfinished. There are dead ends, block passages and delicates walls that will crumble with the slightest vibration. I have a map of the original design for what it’s worth. Since the SubRoots were never fully explored, the map is at best, a guess in many areas. The download is over there on the case.”
“Thank you General. Is that the only danger?”
“No. Beserks roam the SubRoots to hide from deletion by the Batchers. Dangerous sleepless creatures. Stay clear of them. No tellin’ what they’re capable of. But, the worst lies in the Bin. They are the undead creations of Thasher. These are wicked beasts that answer only him. There are thousands. You will not be able to fight them off yourself,” Patches warned.
“Thousands! Wow. Well, I guess I have no choice. Every tick, Nick gets closer to the Shredder. Thank you General!” Whizzy whirled towards the door.
“Wait, young Byte. I have a couple of old mementos from the Chip Wars for your soldier friend Murphy.” He handed them towards the empty air towards Whizzy. Two tiny red spheres drop to the ground and rolled towards Whizzy. “Take these. Use them when things seem hopeless.”
“Murphy says thank you.” Whizzy look at the spheres. “He wants to know what these are and how to use them?”
“Do you think me deaf? I heard him,” said a perturbed Patches. “Come to think of it, I cannot remember precisely how they work or what they do. I know that they helped us win the war. Well, I am sure old Murphy here can figure it out. Us soldiers, we have a way of working these things out. Good luck to you and your strapping friend Murphy, young foot soldier.” Patches saluted only the empty air that was Murphy.
Whizzy and his apparently invisible friend Murphy, armed with two little red globes, saluted back and left the General. He had to make one more stop before finding Nick. So off he went; a pale aqua sphere plunged his way down to the SubRoots to face all of the evil Thrasher could muster.
Chapter 17
Festering Tunnels
Book of TranFor:
The one who deals in death will haunt the tunnels of infinite choices.
Nick pounded on the closet walls with no impact, not even a dent. He had no other tools to try to cut his way out.
“Where am I this time,” he said. Thunder rumbles created a steady stream of tremors that rocked his hyperroom. Nick braced himself by pressing against the closet walls.
Odd sounds came from beyond the door. Maybe I’m better off in the hyperrom, thought Nick. Wherever he was, he would have to manage alone. Whizzy was far off in the Hall of Hazbinz.
The closet door opened into a dank dark series of tunnels. An invisible force pushed Nick from the hyperroom. With loud snap, the door closed, and the closet was whisked away to some unknown destination. Nick steadied himself and looked around the area. It was hot and humid in the dimly lit maze. Dense air condensed on his skin as soon as he exited the closet. The grimy glaze sticking to his skin smelled of rot and bodily neglect.
“Man this NetherWorld place stinks!” Nick spat, trying to expel the sickening taste in the air.
Looking around, he saw that the tunnel split into two directions; neither looked particularly inviting. Green goo dripped from the arched ceiling and the smell of rotting flesh grew even stronger. Both tunnels were dimly lit and appeared to go on for quite some distance. The door slammed shut, sealing him into this subterranean maze. The floor and walls looked and felt like stone, but they were actually formed from the same fish scale polymer as the rest of NetherWorld.
“Hello?” Nick shouted, looking around. “Is there anybody out there?” He looked at each tunnel to see if either direction appeared more promising. They were mirror images leaving no clue to the more favorable tunnel.
“What is this, some psycho hall of mirrors?” Nick asked.
Pregnant droplets of goo puddled on the tunnel floors, creating an odd echo that already began to wear on his mind. Desperate sounding babble came each tunnel. Nick tried to make out what they were saying, but it was too jumbled. Moments later chilling screams arrived, adding to his anxiety.
Since no tunnel offered an advantage, Nick decided to take the tunnel on his left. He walked with goose bumps growing under his blue body suit. He tried to avoid the scattered puddles of fallen green muck.
A low pitched droning buzzed from behind him; making Nick’s stomach turn. He looked back to find the source, but saw only darkness. The drone grew louder and louder, becoming more of distraction. He was finding it hard to even think.
Moving through the tunnel, Nick navigated the twists and turns until reaching the first fork. A small clearing offered three different tunnels. Again, each one was identical to look at. Nick decided to stay with the theme of always taking the left tunnel when confronted with choices. This should make it easier to backtrack in case any tunnel lead to something unsavory; which seemed inevitable. The rotten odor never dissipated. It was consistently awful. Tepid green slime randomly splashed on Nick’s head, sliding down his body, causing a chill. This further excited the goosebumps covering his body.
He continued to confront tunnel forks along the way, always choosing the left one. With each tick the droning grew louder and louder. He walked for hours hoping this would lead somewhere safe.
“When will this maze end! C’mon already. What do you want from me?” yelled Nick exhausted and quite fed up travelling the tunnels.
“Kaarbon. I can sssmell the ssstink of your pitiful fear” hissed a lethal sounding voice. It sounded like the undead whispers heard in second rate horror films. “Kaarbon. I will enjoy eating you filthy flesh. Your time is at end. I will feast on your shredded corpse.”
Nick could not tell where this voice was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from every direction. He picked up his pace, hoping to outrun whatever wanted to threatened to eat him. His steps splashed puddle echos through the drippy caverns.
“Kaarbon,” it hissed.
More twists and turns, more forks; nothing seemed to change. He was beginning to think he was moving in circles.
“Kaarbon.”
After running for some time, Nick stopped and decided he needed to confront this creature.
“Who are you? What do you want?” he said.
“I want your deletion, Kaarbon.” it hissed. “Kaarbon and Sssilicate must never Join. Ssso sssaysss our true leader, NazKlan. We will prevent it Kaarbon.” The hissing sound with which this creature spoke sounded like a loud whisper.
Nick decided to back track towards
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