Chapter Five: Labyrinth
Dark Land, Kooparian
Smog rolled from the infernal machines in the construction zones surrounding Castle Koopa, belching their toxic filth into the blackened clouds. Everywhere the effects of constant pollution strangled the deadened earth with sludge and charred upheavals of dried magma. Scattered across the basin, columns of yellowed, poisonous gas erupted from twisting geysers, spraying their unpleasant waste over those unwise enough to pass under.
Vermik scowled, surveying the desolate landscape as he flew above it on his broom. In little over a year, Bowser had destroyed something that was already destroyed, and made his dark heart visible on every inch of the place.
“Even his abominable features look out over the obliteration,” the Magikoopa growled, gazing up at the chiseled face of King Bowser jutting out of the front of the castle. “I’m all for world dominance, but what if there’s no world left to rule? Sooner or later, he must be stopped.”
“Vermik!” a voice called out to him. It was General Jagger, standing atop a command scaffold in near view. “Out for a pleasant ride, are we?”
The black-robed Magikoopa ground his teeth and landed lightly on his feet next to the Terrapin. Groans of the thousand workers echoed from above and below them, and every few minutes, the screams of one who made a misstep racketed across the support beams.
“I’m assuming you had a reason for calling me out,” Vermik said.
“You Magikoopas are so perceptive,” the general grinned. “I want to know what happened at the quarry last night. I haven’t spoken with Lord Bowser yet, but my guess is he assigned the investigation to you wand-wielders.”
“It’s no secret of mine. We believe Prince Iggy sent his troops to kidnap a worker, named Scud. I found that much out just by rooting around his last dig site. I’m trying to discover why that particular Terrapin was kidnapped, given the abundance around here.”
“And now you’re headed to the breeding caves,” Jagger said, and nodded over his shoulder to a series of openings in the protective ring of mountains behind them. “A likely place to look next, I suppose, given Iggy’s previous obsessions with bioexperiments.”
“Is that all?” Vermik asked, growing bored.
“Not quite. I have a piece of information that may be helpful to you. That is, if you’re willing to return the favor. You see, I want to know the reason behind Bowser’s expedition to the Tropacine Isles, and I’m certain the Guild is behind it.”
“Again, no secret of mine,” Vermik lied. He knew Kammy would be furious if she found out, but completing the mission was more important. “The Guildmistress has convinced Bowser of a Tropacine folklore that tells about an ancient Noki city far beneath the sea. It is called Meridian, and supposedly holds the key to some phenomenal power dating back before the Great War.”
“So,” Jagger tapped his chin, “he’s abandoning the Castle to go myth hunting. Still, this gives me time to secure my place in charge while Bowser is off seeking treasure. Tell me, how might I create the illusion that I discovered this little tidbit on my own?”
The Magikoopa snorted and examined his claws. “Check the High-Level Archives. That’s where Kammy did her research, and I think your security pass should be enough to gain entrance. Now, give me this piece of useful information you promised!”
“With pleasure,” the Terrapin bowed condescendingly. “Before we excavated the Breeding Caves, my workers found signs of previous occupation. I ignored them at first, expecting only to find a few worthless ruins, but it turned out we uncovered nothing more than traces of packed earth and the tops of support structures.”
“Which would mean that the former inhabitants had been located even deeper than where you dug for the caves,” Vermik concluded, eyes widening. “I remember hearing Kamek say that Iggy made a nasty habit of scavenging in Dark Land before all the business with the Breaking Shrine. Perhaps he found something down there capable of affecting the breeding process. After all, the incubation vats are fueled partly by reservoirs found in the cave soil. And they’re the only such water taps we’ve discovered in this forsaken pit.”
“Even more interesting,” Jagger smiled, “to you at least. But I have my own business to attend to. I hope your search goes well.”
As do I, Vermik thought grimly, and flew off towards the caves.
~*~*~*~
Blaring light from torches lined along a staircase in the Guild Tower painted images on stone like crawling blood. A single open window let a dull spot of moonshine in at the top of the winding passage, showing how far the climber had left to go.
Kamek was busy with other thoughts, though, and they all centered on the impending expedition to the Tropacine Sea. As much as he craved the ancient power described in the ship records Kammy had unearthed, his experience with the Breaking Shrine had made him more cautious.
He turned at the upper level and knocked on a door to his left, entering without an answer. “My dear cousin, your mind is raging.”
Kammy looked up spitefully and showed a sharp white tooth. “Don’t peddle your false sympathy to me, Guildmaster. I know why you’re here. Still anxious about the dangers of seeking out Meridian, eh?”
“And for good reason! Remember that I was there when the prophet of Doomstar foretold of the world’s breaking. I saw the awesome might of the Dark Lord himself, thrashing on the verge of triumph. Too much ambition can only destroy us, and especially now that we are so close to victory over the sniveling Mushroomers. We are more than capable of finishing them off without resorting to some uncertain myth.”
“Kamek, you fool,” Kammy grumbled, and rose from her bed. “That is precisely why I say now is the perfect opportunity to search for the lost city. It is only a matter of time before King Bowser angers his children again, and when that day comes, we shall have to deal with them. Forget about the Mushroomers, they are as good as dead. It is the inevitable coup that I worry about.”
“A situation already foreseen,” Kamek waved the concern away. “Once the Koopalings hand over command of their armies to Lord Bowser, the soldiers will be working directly under the leadership of officers strictly loyal to the throne. That and the string of losses the Koopalings’ soldiers connect with their old kings will assure their fealty to us. Just imagine the flush of pride when they march as conquerors on the smoking remains of the Mushroom Kingdom!”
“That is an awful lot to risk the fate of an empire on.”
“Oh, is it?” Kamek turned, grinning. “Before Iggy escaped, I questioned him on his decision to defy Bowser’s compromise. What I just explained was the very reason he gave me, and you know as well as I do that only Ludwig matches him in intelligence.”
“Than why hasn’t the king’s eldest son had similar reservations?”
“Because he is plagued by the disease of nobility. He probably does realize it, but sees it only as a benefit to a successful alliance of the Houses of Koopa. Remember that he was the last to secede from the Kingdom when Bowser first went mad. The depths of his pride in our species are admirable... if altogether irrational.”
Kammy growled and walked towards the door. “I’ve had enough of this! Even if you are correct, Bowser has long since made up his mind. And besides, the fact is that Zarith is still out there. When we last saw him, he was alive and more powerful than either of us. You protect your future, and I’ll protect mine.”
“If you two weren’t related,” Jagger said as he stepped in, carrying a book in one arm, “then I’d say you were married. But I apologize, Guildmistress, we all know you’ve already taken a lover.”
Kamek cackled, sparks of blue electricity showing behind his spectacles. “Yes, but how can she resist the attractions of her young apprentice?”
“I’ll have your tongue, vermin!” she snapped, and made a movement towards the Terrapin.
The other Magikoopa stopped her at the last moment, throwing her up against a wall with a mental blast. “Now, now, that’s enough out of you two. General Jagger, to what do we owe this pleasure?”
Kammy coughed, massaging her temples. “I was wondering that myself. Doesn’t overseeing the construction keep your interest anymore?”
“It’s enjoyable enough,” he sneered. “But my curiosity got the best of me, and I checked your archives. Thankfully, this book of ship records just happened to be lying open on a very interesting page. One that bears a remarkable similarity to Bowser’s focus on Meridian.”
Kammy looked accusingly at Kamek, who only shrugged as Jagger read from the book. “Captain’s Record, Day 115 of the trans-Tropacine voyage, navigational officer Samson is unable to gather any definitive readings from our compass. By noon, the electrical storm detailed yesterday grows more intense, forcing us below deck. After five hours, the sea has calmed, but our vision is obscured by a stifling, pervasive mist. Glimpses are caught of towering, gilded spires in the distance, and glowing orbs of sunlight harbored to the earth itself. Attempts are made to reach it, but we are thrown off course by another storm and run aground on Uliania. We must make further attempts to reach—”
“I’ve heard enough!” Kammy snatched the book from him, slamming it shut. “Who told you? You can’t expect me to believe you figured this out on your own.”
“Give the general more credit.” Kamek smiled, a freezing image. “You did leave behind a rather predictable trail. And besides, we don’t know his intentions yet.”
“Thank you, Guildmaster. As it so happens, I do have a purely harmless favor to ask in return for my continued silence. All I require is a few words of wisdom in Lord Bowser’s ear. Convince him to leave me in absolute control of Castle Koopa while he is away. I don’t want that box-shaped Viceroy Inire ordering me around as usual.”
“How dare you presume to order around the Guild as if it were your puppet?!” Kammy shrieked.
“Now, cousin, calm yourself,” Kamek intervened, and placed a challenging hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure such a request is more than reasonable to cover up your embarrassing error in judgment. Agreed, General.”
Jagger turned to leave, pausing only briefly at the doorway. “Oh, and Guildmistress? You may want to cure that loose tongue of your Apprentice’s. It will get the Magikoopas into more trouble than he’s worth.”
“That irritating whelp, I knew it!” Kammy removed her purple hat, crushing it in her claws. “A break of trust with the Guild is treason!”
“You shouldn’t let your mind slip in rage,” said Kamek, the sparks in his eyes returning. “Yes, I was able to read that afterthought of yours—regretting the promise to promote Vermik. But since when are you in charge of assigning full sorcery?”
“Out of my way!” she growled, pushing her way past him and out into the hallway.
Their bond is not as tightly wound as I’d feared, Kamek thought. But this Vermik is becoming more clever by the day and is free of my poor cousin’s senility. I must forget about Kammy and watch her Apprentice with both eyes. If I’m not careful, he may even get the upper hand of me.
~*~*~*~
Gray honeycombed pods lined the walls and ceiling of the breeding caverns, dripping their protoplasmic mucus over the nursery workers below. Masked Koopas hurried back and forth between vats of matured fetuses floating around in concealed gelatin-like capsules that imitated the womb until they were ready for an artificial birth. Even the air was thick with cryogenic fog rolling off the surfaces of containment tanks, all of which helped to balance the immense heat needed to preserve gestation.
“Abomination,” Vermik breathed as he looked over the synthetic creations.
Iggy had engineered them all before the Koopalings first rebelled, finally solving the problem of limited soldiers, at least to a degree, since mandatory enrollment in the military was still required for significant battles. That and the new breed of Koopas, called Terrapin, had many unforeseen defects.
But those who survive grow to be the kingdom’s most skilled warriors, he thought, cringing every time he had to step over a membranous mound in the floor. Then again, General Jagger was the genetic starting point, and you can’t find a better soldier.
“Sorry, sir, but this sector is in quarantine,” a fully-suited Koopa said, standing with arms upraised before him. “One of the eggs spawned a lethal mutation, contagious to all the pods nearby. We’re closing it off.”
“Then perhaps you can help me,” Vermik said, with steam building up over his faceplate. “I’m looking for the sector that Project #1489 was grown in, given the name ‘Scud’. Orders from King Bowser, himself.”
“I suppose I can trust a Magikoopa’s authority,” the scientist said, and walked over to a plastic-coated databank. “We’ll just enter the number and... searching... hmm.”
“Something wrong?”
“No, it’s just... well, maybe,” the Koopa said, distracted. “This particular number is missing from our records, but it definitely would’ve been in Sector A5. All the Project notations before and after it are accounted for. That doesn’t make sense, unless someone deleted it from the information grid. No one outside of the Breeding Caverns Administration has that authority, though.”
“You said Sector A5. Is it safe to take a look around?”
“Yes, that’s actually the only section we’ve never had problems with,” said the Koopa, frowning. “That is, until now. Come on, I’ll take you there.”
Vermik tilted his head as they trudged through the alien atmosphere, repulsed by the hanging tubes that pulsed with hand-made life. Magikoopas were taught at an early age to abhor all unnatural things, to rely instead on the inherent powers of the elements.
“Doctor,” he said, suddenly realizing, “aren’t the records checked periodically for gaps in the project listings?”
“Yes, they are.” The Koopa’s eyes widened as they turned another corner, venturing into the darkest section of the cave yet. “Every day, in fact.”
“Which means that whoever changed those files did it in the past twenty-four hours, possibly even an hour ago. Can you trace the alterations back to the time when Scud’s information was deleted?”
“Of course,” he said, motioning ahead into a nearly pitch black sector. “Sorry, we haven’t got the translucent glow-bulbs up this far back yet. Just turn on your faceplate’s night vision. You don’t want to run into any workers. In the meanwhile, I’ll go and find out when the records were changed.”
Vermik nodded, already switching his view to a blaring green. If the caverns were revolting before, extra-sensory perception only made them more intolerable.
His mind ached when he discovered hundreds of adhesive pods clutching to every spare region on the walls. Without any data, the site of Scud’s birth could be anywhere.
No, you’re missing the obvious! he chided himself, remembering back to Kammy’s account of the failed abduction. If Iggy was willing to destroy that Terrapin rather than let him be recovered, it means there are still specimens affected by whatever it is that he wants, and the only places in here with more than one project number are those vats for the matured fetuses.
He found the sector’s tank and walked over to it, trying to tell some difference in it from the one he saw at the entrance. The workers, at least, seemed oblivious.
“How do you monitor the conditions of the liquid in these vats?”
“We don’t,” said a gruff Koopa, much less friendly than his previous guide. “They’re drawn from reservoirs underground, so it’s all the same until we make the necessary changes up here. Nothing else gets in. Now, excuse me, but I’ve got work to do.”
No, nothing else gets in unless the unknown ingredient is being put in the reservoir itself, Vermik thought irritably. There has to be a way down there, some breach in the pods...
He searched mentally, feeling the disgusting plasma-coated membranes until... there! The pod on the far wall, I’ve found it!
Gathering a blast of dark energy beneath his legs, Vermik leapt from his position through the lightless cavern, landing right beside the pod he’d sensed. It was the perfect gateway, isolated in a sector that was already poorly attended. He waved his wand, tearing away the pod’s covering and flushing out the protoplasm inside.
But it’s only water, he realized. And look, a backwards pump, how convenient. I know I’m going to regret this.
Without further thought, he jumped through, squeezing easily through the valve and sliding down a long, winding tunnel. He was about to cut his losses and climb back up when he hit a solid surface at the bottom, almost like rock.
“Well, well, if it isn’t dear old Vermik,” a Spikester said, standing before him with a gun leveled straight at his head. “You shouldn’t put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Don’t kill him,” Iggy said, stepping towards the entrance. “Yet.”
A makeshift control room stretched beyond them in what appeared to be the crumbling remains of an ancient civilization. Timeworn stone walls jutted out of the ground, and the carefully carved skeletons of houses could be seen like ghosts in all directions. Around a hundred Spikesters swarmed the place, poring over charts and reading information off scrolling databanks.
“You’ve been here since before we even arrived,” Vermik concluded, standing to his feet. “But if you were already so entrenched in our operations, why bother sending two of your men on a suicide mission? You could’ve just walked upstairs and taken a newborn from this sector’s vat, which I’m assuming is infected with something.”
“Unfortunately, those bumbling ‘scientists’ keep strict watch over the maturation tanks. Besides, the specimens have to be full-grown for my... adjustments to take effect. And as you can imagine, we don’t have time for babysitting down here.”
“Either way, the game is up,” Vermik grinned, raising his wand. “You’re coming with me, traitor. Unless you want me to wipe a few of your Spikesters off the face of Plit first.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Iggy said, and snapped his fingers.
Vermik jumped to avoid the blast from Oerlikon’s weapon, but it wasn’t shooting star beams. Before he could take another breath, he found himself stuck to the walls by a large, thin sheet of some glue-like substance. It gave off a terrible odor, one that was slowly paralyzing his consciousness.
“Another little toy of mine,” Iggy sneered. “I wouldn’t worry, though. I’ve decided to keep you alive.”
“I’ll kill you for this, Igg-” Vermik stumbled, then fell into darkness.
“But Prince, a Magikoopa’s too dangerous to risk as a hostage,” Oerlikon said anxiously, checking over his shoulder to make sure Vermik wasn’t overcoming the toxin.
“I’m not keeping him as a hostage, you fool.” Iggy stopped, and gave another devastating grin. “He’ll do nicely for my newest experiment, however. I just hope he survives the alterations.”