Call of Kerberos: Twilight of Kerberos, The - Jonathan Oliver Page 0,11

the only marine life visible were the albino catfish that rooted in the muck of the bottom, occasionally regarding one another with blank - almost stupid - expressions before burying their blunt noses into the silt once more.

Along the central avenue the glowing things rose on their tethers as something approached from the south.

Its structure had no grace and no attempt had been made to streamline the craft or make it look functional. It looked like a barnacle encrusted boulder and it turned end over end, silently, as it made its way towards the city. As it drew close a hole opened up in the centre of the illuminated avenue and the craft descended into a wide, deep shaft. It passed through a shimmering circle of light and continued its descent into a vast hall.

Dark scaled creatures watched its approach as it drifted down towards a central podium, where it came to rest. The craft opened up like the petals of a flower, thick blue mucous oozing from its folds. The creature that stepped out was clearly of the same breed as those filling the hall, yet its flesh was pitted and scarred. The spines that ran from the top of its skull to the small of its back were faded at their tips. In its right hand the creature held a staff, a red gem embedded in its apex. This it raised to the audience and they responded with a cry, the joyous sound reaching him clearly through the water.

"Belck!"

Belck surveyed the ranks of creatures before him. He had led the Chadassa for thousands of years, taking on the staff from his father, who had inherited it from his father in turn.

"Broodkin, the time draws close. Our blood is strong in the half-breed's veins. It is his seed that will give rise to the Land Walkers and with them we shall take Twilight. The time of the Great Flood is almost upon us!"

The hall echoed with the sound of the creatures' praise. Around them lights danced on the many murals that decorated the hall. In one of these the Chadassa were depicted in battle, cutting down members of another marine race that looked not unlike themselves, in the background a city burned with spectral flames. Another mural depicted a huge, black disk. Its face was barely defined, only the stars that surrounded it picked it out of the blackness.

It was towards this scene that Belck now turned his gaze and, without his prompting, the gathered Chadassa joined him in chanting their creed.

"Beyond Kerberos he waits

He will come again

Beyond time and the stars he waits

He will come again

From the one Great Ocean he is formed

He will come again

He is the Great Ocean

He will come again."

"Broodkin he will indeed come again. Tonight the elders will join me and the ceremony of calling shall begin. For now, return to your nests and meditate upon the Great Ocean. Remember the songs of your ancestors and the stories of our many victories over the Calma. Prepare yourselves for the Great Flood." Belck raised his staff, the gem at its tip burning with a fierce scarlet light.

"He will come again!"

Belck, for all his posturing and pronouncements, had his doubts that 'He' would come again. In their many preparations and holy rites they had received no sign from their god. Even in his special place of meditation, among the deepest thermal vents, Belck had sensed nothing.

Rimbah had urged him to take heart. "If it is his will to be silent," Belck's advisor had said, "then it is his will."

But such cryptic words were of little comfort and did more to frustrate Belck than anything else. At times he had to restrain himself less he lash out at Rimbah. His father wouldn't have hesitated. In his day many were put to death with little more excuse than his displeasure.

Belck signalled to Rimbah to bring him his ceremonial garments. Sign or no sign they had a summoning to perform. As his advisor dressed him in the close-fitting raiment, Belck looked out over their city. From his vantage point he could see all the way down the central avenue to where the Queen slept.

He had personally supervised her cultivation, from lowly Chadassa maid to the great mound that he now surveyed. In the beginning she had fought as the caul had been formed around her, but Belck liked to think that she now lay in a state of contentment, cradled in the centre of that liquid warmth, listening to