The main street ended about one-hundred yards ahead. We continued toward a large structure directly in front of us. Banners with the palm and world crest decorated its walls. The building was three stories tall. Its double doors were guarded by two soldiers to either side of them. They wore full armor. The design of these suits was the same as Virgil's and every other guard I had seen so far.

We headed up the front steps. The guards did not block our path. The front doors opened automatically revealing a large entry hall.

The room was decorated nicely but nothing stood out as extravagant. Paintings decorated the wall but none seemed masterfully done. There were rows of simple wooden chairs along the right wall near a large oak desk. A shaircase headed upward along the left wall. There was a doorway directly ahead.

My eyes roamed freely around the room taking it all in.

Virgil spoke casually. "Wait here please." then headed through the door on the far wall. It opened and closed automatically before I could see what was beyond it.

I was not sure why, but I was not particulary nervous or uneasy anymore. I suppose my conversation with Virgil had prepared me for my meeting wih Nessus. I moved to one of the chairs and sat down relaxing.

My mind began to wander. What would I say to Nessus? Should I simply do as instructed by my lord and deliver a fake surrender or try something else? What should I tell my king upon my return? There was no doubt that Nessus had to be stopped, but I wondered if his death was the only option. If there were other options, I wondered if my lord would accept them.

I almost wished that Nessus was the devil himself. My mission would be much less complicated if the lines between good and evil were not blurred.

I wondered how I would be remembered if I failed. If I was slain and Nessus indeed went on to unite the universe, would I be a foot note in history? An evil warrior that attempted to stop peace.

If I were successful, how would Nessus be remembered? A blood thirsty tyrant defeated by the righteous warrior Malek of Soren.

Funny how the same story can be so different depending on the outcome. I had never had any real desire to make a name for myself. I had joined my kings army simply because I believed in his ideas and goals. Now it seemed I would be historically important, a foot note if I failed, perhaps a legend if I succeeded. Time would tell how the tale would unfold.

I waited nearly fifteen minutes before Virgil reappeared through the doorway. He did not approach. He simply motioned me toward him.

I rose from my seat, then walked to him. I spoke softly. "Is he ready to speak with me?"

He nodded then answered. "Aye, follow me."

Virgil turned and headed back through the doorway.

I followed.

Beyond the door, we entered a short hallway. The floor was covered in blue carpetting. The walls were decorated with a few more unimpressive paintings. The hall turned into a stairwell which headed down.

We proceeded downward. The stairwell was well lit, but I still saw no source of light. The hum which I had noticed upon my arrival seemed louder now. I ran my hand along the left wall. Indeed, the vibration was stronger as well. I assumed we were nearing the source of both, or the phenomenon was simply more intense beneath the surface of the city.

We continued our descent. The stairwell turned at right angles now and then. I expected to reach our destination with each twist, each twist was a disappointment. Just more and more stairs, deeper and deeper we went. I wondered if the steps had an end. After nearly five minutes, finally they did.

Though I impatiently awaited the journeys end, I was not ready for the sight it would reveal.

We stepped into a gigantic circular room. Floating around its exterior there were hundreds of images of worlds. The floating globes were semi-transparent, each nearly twenty feet in diameter. Every few seconds the worlds disappeared, hundreds more appeared quickly in their places.

Directly in the center of the room, I at last got my first look at the Technomancer Nessus. The sight was both fascinating and sickening. He sat in a large throne of sorts. It was composed mostly of titanium, but a few buttons flashed on the arm rests.

A series of cables stretched from the ceiling to his body. At first I thought these cables were strapped to him. Upon taking a second look I realized they were embedded in his flesh. One ran into the back of each of his hands. Another into his chest. The last ran directly into his head just above his right temple.

His skin was as pale as a two day old corpse. The merging of man and machine made him something different, but at one time I was sure he was human. He appeared to be ancient, well over a century old. His head was bald, except for a small ridge of snow white hair that wrapped ear to ear.

He appeared to be well groomed. I could tell he was freshly shaven. He wore grey robes which depicted the palm and world crest. They were spotless and still showed creases where they had been pressed.

It appeared as if he were sleeping. His neck was limp causing his head to rest at an odd angle on his left shoulder. His eyes were closed. He had no expression on his withered face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow weezing breath that entered and exited his lungs through his partially opened mouth.

This was definately nothing like I had anticipated, but then again nothing I had heard or seen since my arrival was. I stood before a frail old man that in any other situation I would think to be on his death bed.

My blade rested against his thone, apparently placed there by Virgil. I wondered how hard it would be to retrieve my weapon. With one quick strike, I could cut down the defenseless conquerer in his sleep and end this.

I walked ahead slowly, my eyes locked on my blade.

Virgil did not approach with me. He crossed his arms over his chest and remained where the stairwell had ended.

I moved closer, thirty feet from the Technomancer, then twenty feet, now fifteen feet. Nessus did not stir. If not for his shallow breathing, I would have thought him already dead. I took a few more steps, only ten more feet. One quick motion and I could grab my weapon. Five feet to go. Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks.

�2001 Joe Pombo