Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 02 (39 page)

BOOK: Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 02
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Though Bat’s victory heartened Coyote, he knew they could not stand. A dozen of the wolfmen broke off to chase the fleeing Yakuza, but the rest poured around the open right flank and threatened to sweep around to cut off their retreat. Coyote could barely see the encysted ninjas off on the left for all the wolfmen attacking them. As the Stormcloud’s breech snapped open and he unconsciously reached for a nonexistent spare clip, he knew the end had come.

«Thiz iz your lazt chance, Coyote! Come to me. Now!»

The sheer desperation in Fiddleback’s sending made defying him easy, but still he hesitated. Cut and bleeding, his friends pulled back, fighting against forces that would engulf and devour them. Coyote knew, deep down, that if he accepted Fiddleback’s power, he could keep his friends safe. Then he also realized that when he accepted Fiddleback’s power, he would have no desire to keep them safe.

With a butt stroke from the Stormcloud he shattered a wolfman’s skull and forced himself to ignore the stinging furrows left in his chest from its claw. “Never, Fiddleback, never.”

«
No!
» Fiddleback’s frustrated screech sliced through his brain like a razor, but Coyote realized it was not directed at him. He sensed another power entering the Sun Court. He saw nothing at first, but noticed instantly that both El-Leichter and the wolfmen turned their attention back to their own rear area. He heard choked-offyips of pain, then saw a limp canine body flip end over end through the air.

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Through gaps in the humanoid pack, he saw a slender, dark-haired, clean-limbed youth rendered in shades of reflected green and black. His hands and feet moved with blurring speed, and black blood covered his arms from the elbow down. Over his body, worked lovingly in bold swirls that helped define his musculature, black lines both thick and thin decorated him.

Where he struck, a body fell and, if it moved after that, only gravity or an involuntary muscular twitch was the cause.

“How dare you!” Arrigo spun in the air and scattered his soldiers with the wave of a hand.

The youth stopped in the oasis strewn with the torn bodies of his enemies, and blood streamed off his body.

Beyond him, back where it could have been a gate in a wall, a golden circle glowed, and the tiny silhouette of a man slowly grew within it. Coyote thought, because of the image’s size, that the man was far away, but when the silhouette assumed its full three dimensions, he saw the figure was indeed small.

“I dare. I dare many things, Fiddleback.”

“You? You were nothing, and I gave you all you are. I now revoke my giftz to you.” Arrigo El-Leichter’s body pulsed out power. “Die!”

The little man, still hidden in the shadow of his warrior, waved the threat away. “Kill him.”

Before the youthful assassin could move, Colonel Nagashita ran forward, vaulted off a mound of wolfman corpses and leaped into the air. He drove his
katana
through El-Leichter’s abdomen. The look of betrayed surprise on El-Leichter’s face metamorphed into a triumphant leer as he caught Nagashita up in both hands and started to compress his chest.

“Kill them both, then,” the little man ordered his assassin.

He had no chance. As El-Leichter dug his fingers into Nagashita’s ribs, the ninja leader twisted his own hands and rotated the
katana
blade 180 degrees in the wound.

Ribs popped, and Nagashita jerked, but he retained his grip on the sword. He tugged up, then sawed the blade back and forth. Blood and entrails streamed from El-Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
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Leichter’s wound, dripping down into the fountain’s shal-low basin, and the blood pouring from Nagashita’s mouth soon mixed with them.

With one final effort, Nagashita twisted the blade around and brought it across, severing El-Leichter’s spine. The green nimbus surrounding him died and, locked with Nagashita in death, he fell to the pool. The water flashed red, then green, then erupted in an explosion of green steam.

When it cleared, Coyote saw no one in the fountain.
So
that is the dimensional gate here!
He looked up to see if the Japanese man who had been hovering with him had fallen outside the fountain, or had been taken along with the twocorpses. He did not see him at first, but then looked up and saw the man floating in a golden throne.

The little man stepped forward into the backlight of the throne. “So, Ryuhito, do you want the power Fiddleback offers you, or would you like what
I
can offer you?” A smug expression of superiority accompanied the smile on the little man’s face. “He provides you the power to transform yourself. I can give you the power to transform others. I offer my herald as a simple example of my art.”

Jytte dropped to her knees. “Pygmalion!”

Rajani stared at him. “Nicholas!”

The little man smiled at Jytte, raising his right hand as if to caress her face. “You were one of my finest creations, Jytte. And you, Rajani, were always an annoyance.

Mickey, kill her.”

“Mickey?” Rajani cried out as the assassin started toward her.

He hesitated for a half-second, which gave Bat all the time he needed. Streaking across the battle line, he tackled Mickey and brought him down. Both of Bat’s arms slipped up through Mickey’s armpits and around the back of his neck. Locking his legs around Mickey’s waist, Bat rolled up into a sitting position. The muscles in his arms and back bunched as he began to pull back on Mickey’s arms and press his head forward.

“No, Bat, no!” Rajani screamed at him. “He’s only a child!”

Pygmalion looked over at his charge and seemed about
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to issue an order when the golden gate behind him collapsed into nothingness. This appeared to disturb him for a second, then he turned back and frowned. “Ryuhito, if you enthrall yourself to Fiddleback, you will be his slave.

I know, for I was until I made Lucifer’s choice. As you can see, I do with one what Fiddleback could not oppose with many. Come with me, and I will give you this world to do with as you wish.”

Ryuhito nodded. The golden throne flared in intensity and became a sphere. It contracted down to the size of a walnut, then floated over and landed in Pygmalion’s open right palm.

Pygmalion smiled like a man who had just found an object for which he had searched his entire life. “Though I regret it, it seems I must leave you all alive here.” He studied his surroundings for a moment, then let his gaze linger upon the gold sphere in his hand. “I bid you adieu.”

“I go!” Mickey’s voice squealed anxiously.

Pygmalion regarded him coldly. “I hardly think so.”

“I go? See Dorothy? You promised?”

“You failed me, Mickey.” The little man held the gold sphere up like a jewel and smiled at its glow.“I do not need those who fail, Mickey.”

“You promised!” Mickey’s voice grew hoarse with the shout, and he struggled against Bat. “You promised!”

“And that promise is broken, just as is the promise I thought I saw in you. You failed Mickey.” Pygmalion spit on the ground. “You are nothing.”

Coyote saw the boy try to twist free from Bat’s hold, then he went limp and began to sob. Bat, still holding the boy tightly, seemed at a loss to deal with him. Mickey hung like a scarecrow in Bat’s arms, tears streaming down his face and washing the blood from his convulsing chest.

Pygmalion smiled, then looked up at the others. “Consider him a present—and a warning. I have an army of warriors modeled after him. They will ensure that my work with Ryuhito will be uninterrupted. This you will soon see, and you had best prepare yourselves for that day.”

Sin slammed a new clip home in his Beretta. “I’m ready

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now.”

“How glib, how droll.” Pygmalion palmed the sphere, and its light died. “When we return, you will venerate him as your emperor, and you will worship me as your god.”

His laughter filled the courtyard, but by the time it echoed back to the center, he had vanished in a burst of gold light.

I looked up as Crowley stepped around a knot of docile wolfmen being led away by two of the IDC ninjas. “You missed the party.”

Crowley toed the dead flying shark. “If you’d told me it was open season on lawyers, I would have been here.” He winced, and I noticed for the first time that he was favoring his right leg. “As it was, I had a bit of a job to do myself with that gold tunnel.”

“Are you okay?” I knew he always kept a tight rein on himself, but I couldn’t sense even a hint of distress coming from him.

Crowley shrugged. “I’ll live. Turns out the tunnel belonged to a Dark Lord named Pygmalion. He’s fairly new and works a lot with folks from Earth.”

“I know.” I pointed to where Rajani, Jytte, Natch and Bat were standing with the warrior Pygmalion had called Mickey. “He was here and abandoned Mickey. Rajani, the Yidam’s daughter, says Mickey was a timid five year old boy when last she saw him.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “When was that?”

I shrugged and felt some aches from my clawed ribs.

”Two or three weeks ago. She says he has a sister and father in Flagstaff.”

“That will make forafascinatinghomecoming.”Crowley shook his head. “What do you know about Pygmalion?”

“Not much, and all of it picked up by inference.” I slung the Stormcloud over my shoulder. “I gather Pygmalion was a human scientist named Nicholas Hunt. Fiddleback
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offered him power in return for loyalty. Pygmalion rebelled and has been annoying Fiddleback since that time.”

Looking over at Mickey and Jytte, both creations from the hand of Pygmalion, part of me wanted to admire his handiwork. I could also sympathize with his rebellion against Fiddleback, and I knew well the pleasure of defying him. I also knew the seduction of the power Fiddleback offered, and I felt strong in resisting it—this time.
Will I always make that choice?

Crowley’s voice refocused my attention outside. “He’s been annoying lots more than just Fiddleback. All the Dark Lords vie against each other for dominance. Pygmalion may well be new, but he is upsetting many of the old power structures. In many ways, he is responsible for having renewed the Dark Lords’ hunger for new worlds.”

I could see it. Power is a drug that satisfies none.It only creates a hunger for more. Even though one might have enough powerto survive, the mere fact that anotherwants your power makes you more ravenous. Dark Lords that had lain dormant for eons were now waking with empty bellies, and Earth seems to be in season.

Crowley looked around as another group of the transformed creatures walked away under guard. “What are you going to do with them?”

“For now, we’re putting them in the secure areas of the GBI complex. Without Fiddleback to guide them, most are very shocked and stunned by what they have become.” I shook my head. “They were looking for an edge, a secret that would give them an advantage over their peers. They thought they’d found it with GBI. Now they’re just fodder for tabloid stories.”

“At least they can find work in the circus.” Crowley walked over and leaned against the triceratops’ shield.

”Pygmalion had some builder-beings in the lead constructing that tunnel through the dimensions. I moved the markers he had left behind for them into an area with a dimensional gateway. I managed to program it to randomly select a new destination every three seconds, so I’ve been scattering his no-deposit, no-return warriors all over the place. A lot of them looked like that guy over there, and some of them were good.”

I nodded. “When Rajani spoke with Mickey, he became docile. She thinks she has broken the links in his mind that make him a killer on order, and the fact that he’s not slain
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her is fair proof of that. He was fast, Crowley,
very
fast. The black swirls and lines look like decoration, but they’re really carbon-fiber armor. I’d like to see an MRI of him because I think the bones in his arms and legs have been replaced with titanium replicas.”

“Interesting. Where’s the big guy you were with?”

Crowley looked around, then glanced down at the dinosaur’s shattered skull. “Out looking for a taxidermist?

A single loud gunshot punctuated the night. “There was a loose Roboguard IV in the Garden of Contemplation.”

We shared a smile, then both looked over toward the main building as Hal Garrett and Sinclair MacNeal led a group of five men toward us. Four of the men wore business suits and, despite the darkness, sunglasses.

They seemed unimpressed by the odd menagerie of creatures in the Sun Court. The fifth man was smaller and moved with the care of old age, yet I sensed a vitality in him that even Pygmalion had not exhibited.

Sin stopped and pointed me out with a wave of his hand.

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