InterWorld (InterWorld 1) - Page 44

I looked, and he was right, because the soul sparks were now even brighter, as they rose from the place where the engines had been and made their way through the ceiling to the floor above.

“I can fly J/O down there,” said Jo. “Jai can teleport himself and probably carry Joey or Jakon. But Josef’s a bit big to be carried.”

Josef shrugged. “S’okay,” he said. “I can jump.”

We all knew he could survive it. My only concern was him maybe going right through the floor and into the Nowhereat-All.

But there was no time for hesitation or second thoughts. I could hear the clatter of boots in the tunnel, coming toward us. We’d have to move. And the portal wasn’t going to be there for very long: It felt unstable.

There was only one problem.

“Guys,” I said. “Lord Dogknife’s got Hue. And I’m not leaving without him. He’s saved my life more than once. He’s saved all of us. I’m sorry. I’ll get you through the gate if you want. But I’m staying for Hue.”

And then the first of the soldiers came through the door.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THERE WAS A RUMBLE from above us, and a big section of a pipe broke free and crashed down. It didn’t come anywhere near us. I wondered what the freed souls were doing to the rest of the ship. Then I turned back to the disaster at hand.

As the first soldier came through the opening, Josef picked him up, like a kid picking up an action figure, and dropped him

over the side of the mezzanine to the floor below. He screamed a little on the way down.

“So,” said Jai to me, “you are declining to accompany us home in order to foolishly squander your life in attempting to rescue your pet multidimensional life-form from . . .” He trailed off as another handful of astoundingly ugly soldier critters came through the corridor and were respectively picked up, teleported and blown over the rail to drop onto the floor below us in varying stages of dead.

“Yes,” I said. “I suppose I am.”

He sighed. Then he looked at Jo.

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

“Me, too,” said Josef. “I’m in—hey, not so fast!” and he tossed one of the soldiers back down the corridor, tumbling men like ninepins.

“Say please,” J/O said.

“What?”

“Say please and I’ll help get your pet back.”

“Please,” I said. I swung the poleax, and another soldier thing fell screaming. Then we waited, but no more came through the corridor. They seemed to have given up on that idea.

“We’d better to hurry,” said Jakon. “I don’t think this ship is going to be here for much longer. And Lord Dogknife is going to be getting off before it goes. I know his kind.”

I said, “Nobody’s mentioned the real problem yet.”

Jai smiled. “Which real problem in particular might that be?”

“We’re on the bottom of the ship. We need to get to the top deck. And the quickest way is probably back through the corridor we just came down.”

“Not necessarily,” said Jo. She pointed down. “Look over there.”

There was a grand door to the engine room, a huge thing made of brass, and it was opening now, slowly, being wheeled or winched, screeching and complaining like the Wicked Witch of the West as it did so. Once it was open a small phalanx of HEX soldiers marched through it and formed lines. They made no move to attack, however. They simply formed a solid wall of flesh and weapons, facing us.

For a tense moment no one moved. Then the HEX soldiers split ranks, to reveal a single man standing there. A man whose naked flesh crawled with nightmares.

“Hello, Scarabus,” I shouted, trying to sound confident, although my skin felt like it was crawling just as much as his. “Enjoying the cruise? There’s gonna be shuffleboard and bingo later.”

“I felt from the start that Neville and the Lady Indigo underestimated you, boy,” he called back up to me. “I would have been happy to have been proven wrong.” He put his hand on the small image of a scimitar tattooed on his left bicep, and suddenly there was a real scimitar, the oiled blade gleaming wickedly, in his right hand.

Tags: Neil Gaiman InterWorld Fantasy
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