Something Different

Chapter I

The skies cracked open and let loose as I pulled slowly onto the pitted asphalt of the parking lot. A scattered flock of cars kept a meager watch as the rain beat out an age old rhythm on their roofs and mine. Beyond them, almost lost in the shadow of the highway overhead, was my destination. Painted in brief strokes between thunderclaps was an old, turn-of-the-century, brick and mortar monstrosity. A corpse of a building left to rot in an industrial graveyard with only the distant sound of the city above as signs of life.

The locals called this place the Bottoms. Fitting.

Switching of the engine I sat there for a long moment, keys in hand. All the reasons I shouldn't be here running through my head in stampede. I didn't know who wrote the letter. The name Hesmet meant nothing to me. The Others rarely congregated in cities. Too risky. Too hard to hide what they were. Too likely to run into old enemies. This whole little trip could be a trap. Isolated location. No one would ever hear anything. I wouldn't be found until some transient decided my coat looked warm.

Yet, here I am. Fucking perfect. Fuck the cat. Curiosity is going to be the death of me.

Eying the night shrouded building I willed it to spill its secrets but the storm mocked me. Revealing it all one moment and the hiding it behind sheets of rain the next. A distant burning in my hand brought me back. Releasing my grip with a soft curse I slipped the now bloody edged keys into my pocket. Picking up the letter from the passenger seat I turned it over but made no move to open it. I didn't need to read it again. Every word of it was etched into memory. The sharp, spidery handwriting asking me oh-so-politely to come meet the writer before more of our kind could die. Letting loose a shaky breath I tucked the letter into the inner pocket of my jacket and climbed out into the night.

The rain was cool, almost playful as it struck me in fat droplets. Turning my face to the sky I tasted the downfall. Sweet. Jagged streaks of lightning leapt across the sky racing the wind that tugged at me like an old friend. Lowering my eyes I stared across the top of the rental towards the rundown building and made my decision.

With slow, cautious steps I began to make my across the cracked lot. Up close the cars were rusted shells; long since abandoned when they could no longer serve their purpose. Even in the downpour the scent of rotting metal and fake leather hung over them. The buildings started to show its age the closer I came. Weeds sprouting from cracked pavement in scraggly patches around the base. Metal supports stood red and flaking exposed to the elements. Busted windows left untouched, their frames stripped of paint. Cracked mortar supporting the wall but no door marred the street side of the building.

Following the line of the building I crept around the far corner and out of sight of the street. There, under the shelter of the highway, was the door and it was exactly as described in the letter. Plain steel lit by only the fitfull light of a red bulb resting above.

One deep breath and I was in motion. The knock rang loudly. Silent moments followed. Questioning moments. Arms crossed and lips set in a tight line I waited. Finally the door screeched open but only a few inches. Revealing only a dusty sliver of concrete floor and nothing of the one who opened it.

Typical.

"Who are you?!" demanded a harsh voice like rock breaking. Only the aggression painting the speaker as a man.

"My name's Boone. I have an invitation."

"I've heard that name..." the speaker paused his voice going soft - my teeth grinding - before picking back up. "Show me your invitation."

Slowly I slid the envelope into the gap where it was snatched away. Faint sounds escaped as Grabby the doorman tore into it like a kid at Christmas. The door swung open almost immediately shwoing only more dusty concrete.

"Hurry up! I don't want to hold this damn door open all night!" Grabby hissed with a sound like rocks sliding against each other.

Hurriedly stepping inside the door slammed behind me and I got my first good look at the doorman. Half my height and twice my width of old, rough hewn granite shaped into the crude likeness of a man. Wearing coveralls and a tool belt. A faint grinding drone surrounded him as he hefted a steel bar thick as a baseball and fixed me with a charcoal stare. Then his face seem to split in half in a craggy grin as the little stone man turned and reset the bar across the door.

I heaved a quick sigh before he turned back around.

"You look more human than I thought you would." the stone man said giving me a rocky snort.

That comment should bother me, I think, but the Others always say that. As if I did something wrong by taking after my father in looks. As if her son should look the part of a monster.

"Looks can be deceiving, stone man. You should know better. Now where is this Hesmet?" the words came out harsh and fast but I didn't want to follow that idea any further.

Grabby eyed me hard but just snorted again and started leading me deeper into the building. This part was definitely not used regularly. Dust and broken machinery littered the place. Some of the machines sat in various states of disarray. Someone - probably the stone man - was harvesting them for parts.

"Down you go, boy."

Breaking free of my thoughts, I looked past my guide to find stairs leading down into the dark. A darkness that shimmered and shook under the weight of my gaze.

Fuckin' hell. A trod?

Raising an eyebrow at the doorman, I questioned him with a glance.

"What'd you think you were going to find here? A homeless shelter that accepts our kind? The fucking Ritz maybe?" the words had bite but he squirmed under my study. "This here is one of our people's last great places. Hesmet built it. Walked the trod himself. It means something that you've been invited here. Don't make us regret it."

Nodding I faced the stairs. I didn't need to be told that. There weren't enough of us left anymore. Any loss was too much.

"What's your name, stone man?" a startled noise escaped him like marbles rolling across the floor. "Well? ...I can't keep calling you stone man can I?"

Or Grabby.

"Gedeon." he said hesitantly. "Most pretty boys don't care to ask my name."

God, do they still call us that? Who'd have thought looking human makes you pretty?

"See you on the way out, Gedeon."

Steadying myself I took several deep breaths before my boot came down on that first step. A tingle ran through me. An electric caress penetrating flesh and blood. I shuddered, closing my eyes for the briefest of moments but the world had changed in that moment. The lines of the steps were softer and the shadows sharper. Hot breath curled around my legs carrying scents that had no earthly place in a warehouse. Honeysuckle and roses.

Just like her. She always smelled of honeysuckle and roses. The memory hit in a rush.

"Trods are how we get home, Jer. Paths in the mist between the world of Man and the Dreaming Worlds." mother whispered softly to me as she stroked my hair under the eaves of the oak tree. "Most can only walk a trod made by one of the great ones but you're different. You'll be able to make your own ways some day."

"Why am I different, Momma?" the question escaped me as I surrendered to her touch closing my eyes.

"Because you carry an entire world within you."

My hair smelled like her for weeks after. Never wanted to wash my hair again.

The thoughts skittered across my mind. Useless dreaming thoughts. Pushing them aside I continued down the stairs. Each step taking me deeper and further away from the world of my birth. Walls of concrete became chipped, worked stone shot thorugh with veins of a dozen different colors. Some were glittering threads of silver and gold. Others were strands of ruby, sapphire, and diamond. A few pumped molten fluids that burned to the touch.

The descent seemed to last hours but it was hard to tell. Sometimes you walked a trod in minutes and find hours have passed. Other times it felt like hours and only seconds would have gone by. Time, they say, is a constraint of man's world. When flickering lights began to appear in shadowed recesses ahead I knew that I neared the end. Another door.

I didn't knock this time.

A hundred faces turned towards me. A fine boned scaled woman with slitted pupils... two things as much pig as man bared tusks in my direction... a dark skinned man who appeared normal save for the single horn curving up from his crown... a veiled woman of curves and grace with writhing snakes for hair... and so many more. So many that my eyes could scarcely take them in. Each and everyone unique save for the alarm written plainly across their features.

"Who the fuck are you?!" something bellowed with lungs greater than what any human had ever known.

From the sea of faces and forms a massive form breached. Half again the height of a man it rose. A mass of muscle bunched and corded beneath a coat of coarse jet hair. From either side of it's bull like face hung great curving horns nearly a foot and a half long a piece. Nostrils flaring it stared with narrowed eyes.

"Calm down, bull boy. I'm invited." I spat back at him with more confidence than I actually felt. "Hesmet invited me."

If anything his eyes narrowed even more at the insult. With long strides he began to move forward three fingered hands clenching and unclenching. Violence oozed off him like cheap cologne.

Shit. Not my brightest moment.

"You don't want to start this dance. I am no easy meat." Will alone kept my voice from cracking.

Not that I was lying but that was a lot of pissed off mythological muscle headed my way.

"Stop this, Ios."

The minotaur stopped like someone had slammed his brakes on but his eyes never left me. From behind him emerged a man who I didn't need to be told was Hesmet. Tall and skeletally thin he seemed supported more by will than flesh. His clothing was of Victorian style but more newly made than that. Foppish and silky in shades of startling red. A knife edged face like cream floated amidst a mass of flowing hair the color of damp ashes. Red lips sat on the pale skin like a wound beneath a nose that was little more than two slits.

But his eyes were what pinned me in place. Black on black with golden flecks buried in the depths like stars in the night sky.

"Calm children. He will not hurt us. This is Rona's son."

That got a reaction from the crowd. Whispers raced through room. A hundred pair of eyes looked on me with new perspective. My mother's name always got that reaction from the Others.

Even Ios showed me a little respect at that. Straightening his stance and giving me a good hard look before nodding at me.

Cautiously I nodded back. Who was I to turn down a friendly gesture? Well more friendly than bellowing and charging me anyway.

"I am glad that you decided to come, Boone. I have looked forward to this meeting since the first whispers of your life reached my ears. Welcome to Nibiru."