CHAPTER FIVE: AT THE QUEEN’S PLEASURE
Voluminous as a description for the throne room would be doing any dictionary a disservice. Mesmerizing would find itself severely lacking as well. Enormous, otherworldly, roomy, incredible, and capacious are all right out. Is gargantutastic a word? If not, it should be, and it should be immediately applied to the subterranean vastness that was the chamber that housed the Anansesem seat of power. Hewn from a gold so pure and brilliant it seemed to glow, gilded with gems larger than fists, and set upon a black marble dais so tall it forced one to lift their head to see it, the throne somehow managed to absorb nearly all attention. The term “somehow” is included only because the massive crystalline web that converged upon the throne from every direction was also a matter of much curiosity among the three prisoners now bound in webbed manacles before that very same spectacular throne in the gargantutastic throne room.
The Captain was focused on the outlandish web structure. So clean and perfect it seemed more like ice than crystal; the webbing was as thick as a woman’s arm. It flowed out from hundreds of smaller corridors that opened up across the domed roof of the throne room and ran up towards its center. And where this intricate structure converged at the apex of the dome, the strands combined and wove together before running their collective way directly down in a sort of prismatic cone to the throne, itself. Upon that throne sat Baku, who was presently overseeing an elaborate ritual involving dozens of dancing Anansesem. At her feet sat Marybelle and the rest of the humans’ gear.
“And I thought she was some sort of arachnid constable. One thing you can say for her,” Captain noted, “she leads from the front. Right admirable. My kind of g’hal… the noble kind!” He turned his eyes, behind his goggles, to the web again and asked, “So how did you plan to pack that entire crystal web out of here, Skaar? And if you managed such an audacious feat, what were you going to do with it? Sell it to buy a new castle?”
“Castle Skaar needs no replacement, dear Captain,” Skaar grinned. “As you are vell avare, its laboratory could never be rebuilt or replaced. No, my interests were purely… self-indulgent.”
In the oubliette, it had taken hours of further prying to get even an inkling of the truth out of Max Skaar and they had firm doubts when he said he had come to steal the same sort of crystal they had seen streaked haphazardly through the tunnels. Alas, before they could make any further headway, the guards had appeared surreptitiously through a trap door in the floor and then hauled them through miles upon miles of tunnels to bring them here before their queen. In that time, they had been abused for speaking if they did, so the Captain knew that now, as whatever terrible ceremony was unfolding around them, was the only time they might get an actual answer from the Doctor.
“Acknowledge the corn, Skaar,” the Captain demanded, “What sort of magical mayhem did you have planned for the stuff?”
“Bah,” spat the Doctor, “It’s just a good conductor of magical properties. I zought it vould make a fine addition to a staff or vand or efen just to keep around ze house. Imagine my chagrin when I was captured. Zat I would meet my end trying to collect a knick-knack! Ha! All zis trouble for some silly crystal.”
“I somehow doubt that,” the Captain glowered.
“Doubt what you will, dear Captain, but ze crystal’s true value appears to reside wiz zem.” The Doctor nodded toward the whirling spider folk whose ritualistic antics were verging upon an apparent crescendo.
Instead, the Captain looked to the crystal webbing again and watched the torrent of myriad hued quinta essentia flowing through it. Back in the tunnels, this power must have been only a trickle through those solitary veins of crystal, like a single rivulet of rainwater, for he could not spot it among the aura of the lichen and insects. But here in the throne room, where all those thousands of rivulets merged to form a mighty river, the power was magnificent. While the doctor did not have the goggles for it, Tripp was certain Skaar knew what the crystal was doing. It was a bioelectric lightning rod combined with a crystalline telegraph wire coupled with a Leydon jar, or in this case, a Leydon throne, where all this living energy was collected. The radiance of it all was almost overwhelming and the potential power was absolutely intimidating.
Where did they get this crystal? Was it hewn? Was it naturally formed? No, certainly not. Looking closer at the nearest strand and the slight white striations, he would almost say it was woven. Is this the height to which the Anansesem webbing could be taken? To become a crystalline structure capable of conducting the very force of life?
This is what Skaar was after. The throne. The web. Everything. Just imagine, the Captain thought, what such a structure could do with millions, nay billions of living creatures adding to its energetic coffers. It could power the globe, he believed. In the right hands, agriculture and industry would be powered by the crops it harvested and the men that worked the machines; by life itself; creating a self-sustaining utopia where food, clothing, and homes would be available for all. Human minds could then turn to the heavens, taking this power source with them to power vessels that flew among the stars!
Of course, the Captain had to admit, in the hands of the Doctor, creatures, any living beings, even humans could become nothing more than a resource. Stabled and penned and farmed for the life of their flesh, such a power plant would become a virtual hell. Any chance of that happening had to be stopped. The power construct had to remain here, below ground with the Anansesem. At least for now, when there were people like the Doctor sitting in high places throughout the world.
Shaking away those nightmarish visions, the Captain tuned his ears to Ghost-Tongue’s deep humming and asked aloud, “Jobi, old boy, how far along are they in their bloodletting bee?”
“They should be fetching blades shortly. How shall we proceed?”
“One moment, please.” With that, the Captain reached up to his goggles and began focusing its lenses through the tiny dials along its rims and frame. With a twist here, a push there, and a few well-placed vulgarities under his breath, the left lens was modulated to its inletting refraction mode while its cohort was trained to reflect that same quinta essentia and project it back out into the world in a widened conical beam. After this final bit of tuning, the Captain promptly closed the aperture of the right lens and turned his attention back to the peril at hand.
“There!” the Captain exclaimed, drawing the attention of the other prisoners away from the advancing horde of eight-armed humanoids back to him. “Now gather close,” he instructed, trying to keep his head still. “Make sure we’re all touching!”
The current of quinta essentia, leeched from the web and all that lived within reach, flowed unseen through the air to all but the Captain. There it gathered through the aperture of his goggle lens. From the goggles to the Captain to the Doctor to Ghost-Tongue and back again, that quinta essentia, the life force of all living things travelled. The three of them, it could be said, had never been more alive.
“Zey are getting razer close,” the Doctor announced. “Vhatever it is you’re doingk, dear Captain, make wiz ze haste.”
“Almost there,” the Captain replied, though in truth he had no gauge or meter by which to make that statement.
“Vhy hullo zere!” Skaar said to the nearest Anansesem. “Zat is a fery nice blade you haff. Kill zis Indian first, would you? I insist… really.”
“Close your eyes, gentlemen!” the Captain ordered and was promptly obeyed.
With the encircling spider people closing in like a noose, the Captain had to hope for the best, which just so happened to be the thing he was best at. So he closed his eyes, reached up, and slid the lever that opened the aperture on his right lens to let loose a dazzling flash of pure white light.
The effect was audible as a simultaneous grunt escaped the mouths each and every Anansesem in attendance. To the subterranean creatures this was both painful and blinding. The entire lot was brought to a stupefied standstill.
“Let’s get hell bent, boys!” the Capt
ain announced and immediately dashed forward up the marble stairs of the dais he knew to be there and headed for the throne. Nearly winded at its summit but with one brilliantly lit but slowly dimming lens illuminating the way, he snatched up Marybelle and Ghost-Tongue’s spear. Then, lighting the electric torch and shining its beam back down the way he had come. He located Ghost-Tongue amid a swarm of disconcerted Anansesem. “Jobi!” he bellowed and hurled the spindly weapon at his friend. Then, turning back for his belt, the Captain found it had vanished.
“Barbarian!” Baku hissed and slung the belt around, striking the Captain in his gob.
Only slightly staggered, the Captain turned the beam of the electric torch on the Queen, which immediately and effectively blinded her, as well as causing all six arms to fly to her face in defense. His belt crumpled to the floor and he grabbed it up. “Excuse me, Your Highness, but we must take our leave of you! I do hope you’ll forgive our hasty departure but you must admit to a certain level of inhospitality on your part!”
With that, he dashed back down the stairs, blasting forth short bursts of flame to drive any recovered Anansesem back and periodically blinding them further with the electric torch. Once near to Ghost-Tongue and the Doctor he declared, “Follow me, boys! We’re headed home!”
Alas, he was surprised to find Ghost-Tongue flat on his back even though the Anansesem were more than five yards away. The solid punch that then landed on his jaw did not come from the direction he expected it to, though in hindsight it should have been the first place he looked. Skaar’s sucker punch landed hard and dropped the Captain on his rump. Marybelle was snatched from his hands and his goggles were ripped from his face before he could recover.
Then Marybelle cried out and her angry roar was fierce.
Flashes of gunfire dazzled as a spray of bullets tore through the crowd of spider folk followed by jets of flame. The Captain screamed in protest and made to pounce but Skaar turned the whirling barrels in his direction and he was forced to leap for cover around the base of the dais. It wasn’t what he wanted. They could have made it out without any more bloodshed. Worst of all, that bastard was violating Marybelle!
The Doctor on the other hand, had long since made his decision. “You’ll rot in arachnid hell, you fiends!” he screamed and turned his attentions to the goggles. These he poked at and prodded, twisted and fought until in his wicked brilliance he believed he had reset the technical spectacles and modified the projection lens.
At that particular moment he found the Captain in the process of charging him and opened fire with Marybelle yet again. The agile American jigged and ducked and launched himself up the stairs, finding himself behind the throne where he found a very enraged Queen Baku dangling from the back edge of the dais.
“Hullo there, Your Highness!” he exclaimed. “Funny thing! The madman you captured four years ago now has my accoutrements and is intent on killing all of us.”
“You’ll suffer my claw, Captain,” she snarled ineffectually.
“At your pleasure, Your Grace,” he smiled.
Then the Gatling fire stopped and a bit of a chuckle wafted through the air. The Queen stopped her attempts to clamber up and looked to Tripp questioningly. “Did my soldiers get him?”
“I don’t think so, Your Highness,” the Captain admitted.
Then they were answered, “Dear Captain! Still alive up zere?”
“Will you go away if I say no?” said the voice behind the throne.
“Ha ha!” the Doctor laughed. “Vell perhaps you’ve been keepink track of time. I was too busy slaughterink zese monsters to do so.” A burst from the Dragon Breather™ sounded.
“What’s that?” the Captain asked, shrugging at the queen’s visible curiosity. “Are you late for dinner? Why do you want to know what time it is?”
The Captain knew as soon as it fell out of his mouth that he did not want to know the answer to that question. But before he could take it back the Doctor answered, “Oh I vas just vonderink how much chi I vould haff channeled into zese goggles by now. You see, I figure if one vide burst of energy could do so much damage, vhat vould happen if I narrowed zat beam and focused it on one…”
The Captain grabbed two of the Queen’s wrists.
“…specific…”
The Captain leapt.
“…point!”
The air sizzled and all hair stood on end for half a second before a ray of indigo blue light shot forth from the right lens of the goggles and struck the throne. The gems there encrusted began to shatter and explode as the surge of energy travelled up through the crystalline web. It too began to burst and disintegrate, and the entire construct began to collapse. Great shards of crystal and chunks of stone fell from above.
At the same moment, the Captain and the Queen slammed into the ground. The broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, and badly bruised hip were of no surprise or even concern to the Captain though. What he found most interesting was that when the Queen struck the ground beside him, in the light of the crystalline explosion he could see, she shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Some were flung far away while the majority remained in a slightly humanoid shape where she landed topped by the tuft of her hair. But then, just as quickly as they had scattered, these pieces began to move and even recollect. The tiny pieces wriggled and scampered and as he watched this he realized that they were actually thousands of tiny spiders. These spiders were rejoining and combining to form Queen Baku!
He could only smile at the wonderment of it all as she took shape again, sprouted a new head of gossamer hair and rolled to her side to face him. “All of Kese’Esum is held together by the power of the web,” Queen Baku whispered, “Without the web, it shall all come undone.”
A groan came from out of the distant darkness along with the sounds of a struggle. A burst of flame and another yelp followed before a rumble began from every direction. Then the electric torch shone out coming from around the corner of the dais.
“Cap’n!” Ghost-Tongue shouted. “Cap’n!”
“Over here, old boy!” Tripp bellowed. “I’m broken but good this time!” he said.
“He fell,” the queen explained as she stood up.
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer, chap,” the Captain smiled.
Then a boulder crashed down from the ceiling and Baku looked around. “My people! They will be crushed!”
“Madam,” Ghost-Tongue said glumly, “I believe most of them are dead already. When Skaar shot them, they fell to pieces.” The Captain nearly began to explain the entire spider conglomeration that was the Anansesem when the tall Indian added, “And then he even burnt the pieces.”
“Skaar!” the Captain cursed. “Where is he?”
“He escaped,” said Ghost-Tongue, “But I stuck him like a pig before he could. That’s how I got Marybelle back.”
“Good man,” the Captain smiled.
Ghost-Tongue’s face turned grim, almost apologetic. “But he still has your spectacles,” he said.
“No worries, Jobi,” the Captain grinned. “I can craft another. This is why we have schematics.”
Stone had begun raining down in several sections of the roof now. As the Anasazi and the Anansesem Queen helped him to his feet, the Captain remarked, “I fear we should follow suit of the damnable Doctor von Skaar and get hell-bent on our escape. We’ll do the world no favors by meeting our ends down here.”
With an arm thrown over Ghost-Tongue’s shoulder, the men made to leave by light of Marybelle’s electric torch but discovered they had become a pair. Looking back they saw Baku standing for the first time helplessly and weak as a cascade of rock and dust poured down behind her.
“Come, Your Highness,” the Captain said, “We’ll need you to show us the way.”
“I cannot leave my people,” she explained. “They cannot all die and only I remain.”
The Captain told her, “Surely there are others; a spider here and there, sentinels at distant stations who will survive, Your Majesty. You
cannot give up so quickly.”
The shower of rocks falling from above had begun to increase. One was crushed beneath its own weight nearly five yards away sending a smattering of debris at them.
“And what will we have?” the Queen wallowed. “A pit? A quarry?”
“Your grace! Do you know who I am? I am Captain Tripp Vaguely! I’ve punched a manticore in the face and walked away laughing! I have sung sonnets from the buttresses of flying castles! And I believe, dear lady…”
“Pay attention here, madam,” said Ghost-Tongue.
“I believe you have yet to see your finest day! I believe you will make for yourself a new kingdom and a new throne and weave for it a new web forged from the hearts of stars!”
Baku’s head lifted and her back straightened.
“You will give to this world the kind of majesty and nobility it has never seen the likes of while you cut shines that only a trickster god could muster!”
Her shoulders drew back wide and her many hands clenched to fists. Her many eyes reflected the Captain’s visage back at him.
“Anansi will look down from his great web in the sky and say, ‘Bully for Queen Baku!’”
With the haughtiness and sincerity that only a victor can declare she said, “Yes, Captain! I believe you. There can be more. I am not done here in this world.”
“Atta girl!” he exclaimed.
“And I will reclaim the kingdom of the Anansesem in the name of Anansi!”
“There you go!”
“We, as a people will grow and prosper anew, the strands of our web reaching every corner of the globe!”
“You’ll make us all proud!”
Then she turned to the shattered ceiling and raised several fists at it. “This day you have made a terrible enemy, Doctor Skaar! And the last beat of your heart will be between my teeth!”
“Well let’s not get morbid now,” the Captain smiled and motioned for her to follow. “Come, Your Grace! I’ll take you back to America; to Thunderdune; to my lab. We could use a gal like you!”
And they were off, the court of the spider queen crumbling behind them yet somehow born anew.
THE END
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