A Gathering Evil
"I doubt it, but I don't think they will be granting you a reward for killing him." He took his hand away from my face, and my own vision returned. "How many bullets do you have."
"Twenty-eight, but they're split into two clips."
I saw his brow furrow in profile. "And that is a 10mm Colt Krait?"
"Yes."
"A bit small. Figure three bullets per Draoling, provided you don't miss."
"I don't miss." I conjured up my memory of shooting the sniper in Boxton.
"Fascinating." He stood and brushed unseen dirt from his knees. "We will be there in a very short time. That ring is a dimensional gate that will take you back to Phoenix. It is important, therefore, that we gain control of it. If we have the time, you can account for nine of them. You will only need to get six, I think. Speed will be of the essence, however, because the amount of power we release in killing them will attract all sorts of attention."
"I understand."
"Good. I will leave Ms. Fisk here, then bring her along when it is safe."
I took the Krait off safety and eased the hammer back. "Ready when you are."
"Let us proceed."
In the back of my mind I knew my head injury had to have affected me more than I could tell. As we rushed forward, the distance between us and this dimensional gate melted away. The Draolings standing around it did not notice us until we were at optimal range. El Espectro pointed at them, clenched his hand into a fist, then flung his hand open as he twisted it palm up.
One of the Draolings in the center of the group spontaneously combusted. He screamed in a language I've only heard whispered in nightmares. His companions turned toward him, then recoiled and started to run away. The flaming Draoling flailed about, catching on to one of them, but the others escaped and those who ran in our direction made a nasty discovery.
I knew El Espectro assumed it would take three bullets to kill a Draoling, and my experience with the Donners suggested he was very right in his assumption. By the same token I knew it would only take one to attract some attention. In rapid succession I pumped one round into each of three humanoids, then let the nearest have two more before I blew the head off a fourth with a lucky shot. I started cutting to the left, drawing the Draolings off as El Espectro went right.
The four of them closest to me closed like sharks smelling blood. One had already been hit, and he went down when a shot hit him in the shoulder and all but tore off his right arm. Two bullets in the stomach jackknifed one Draoling forward, and the Draoling running behind him vaulted over his dying body. I met his long, clawing dive with a left foot in the face. That snapped his neck but the impact still knocked me down, and his dead body fell on top of me.
The last one kept coming in. I twisted to the right, turning toward him. My first shot missed, but the second broke his right thigh and dropped him face first to the ground. He tore at the ground to crawl forward, but the next two bullets disrupted his higher brain functions and put an end to his desire to kill me.
I tossed the dead Draoling from me and stood. Across the circle, near an obsidian obelisk trimmed in gold, I saw El Espectro. Around him burned a number of Drao-fires. I waved, and he returned the gesture, then slumped against the obelisk. Holstering my pistol I ran to him and helped support him.
"Do not concern yourself with me. I will survive." He pointed back in the direction we had come and Marit floated toward us, but not as high as she had before. "Get her before I drop her."
I ran over to Marit and accepted her in my arms. Only when my left hand smeared blood on her sleeve did I realized El Espectro had been bleeding. "You're hurt."
"A scratch. Nothing." He urgently pointed to the circle. "Get in the middle. I will send you to Eclipse. I do not know exactly where this will come out, but wherever it is, get out of there quickly."
"Why?"
"Because I was careless. There are things out here that sensed the power we have used. They also sense our vulnerability. I must send you through, then destroy this portal or they will find you—and you would not like that."
I leaped over the gold and obsidian ring and ran to the middle. The black stone inlays looked like decoration, but ran along the gold ring and looked almost identical to the pathways on printed circuits. Every so often they ended at cloudy quartz lozenges that had a pulsating gray-pink light in the middle of them.
The gold began to glow with a bright light that cycled around and became more intense. "What about you?" I shouted over the keening shriek rising from the circle.
Worry not about me, Tycho Caine. Fiddleback and I have played this game many times.
The light and sound reached an inaudible and invisible climax at the same time, and suddenly I found myself in the dark basement of a tenement building. Across from me I saw a set of stairs leading up and the weak light of a sodium lamp bleeding down it. I stepped over what looked like a yellow circle painted on the floor, then carried Marit up the stairs. We raced through the building as fast as possible. I shifted her to an over-the-shoulder carry as I shot down a hallway and out through the opening to the outside.
True to his word, El Espectro had delivered us to Eclipse again. Across an open killing ground I saw a barricade. As I ran toward it I recognized the area. Off to my right, I saw the clutter of trailers comprising Boxton. Without a second thought I scrambled up the barricade, then slid down off a car on the far side.
Behind me something flashed white-gold. For all of a second Eclipse saw the sun at its heart and knew what it was to be out from under Frozen Shade. I set Marit down and turned around as a rumbling sound started. The middle of the tenement began to crumble. Dust filled all the windows, then gusted out as the building caved in on itself. In a handful of heartbeats the building went from six stories to memories.
I looked at the fallen building, then stooped and lifted Marit up again. He said he and Fiddleback had played together many times. I hope he made it. Then I remembered his promise. "I know he won," I laughed aloud. "Fiddleback didn't stand a ghost of a chance against him."
And yet, even laughing, I looked at my left hand and still saw wet blood.
Once I got Marit back to her apartment, Juanita called a doctor and we put Marit to bed. The doctor checked her over and said she looked fine to him, if a little dehydrated. He questioned me closely to determine if I had hit her, but he accepted my story that we had been slumming in Eclipse and had been involved in an unsuccessful mugging. He left a prescription for some heavy-duty ibuprofen tablets, and Anna ventured out to fill it. The doctor insisted Marit rest in bed and get plenty of fluids. He also took a look at me, cleaned up my head wound and taped a bandage into place. "You may want to take one or two of her pills if you start having headaches. If you have any serious neurological symptoms, call me and get to the Phoenix General Tower."
"Thanks, Doc." I showed him to the tranversor, but he had to wait as the box was in use. When the door opened, a messenger stepped out, and the doctor vanished behind the closing doors. "Can I help you?"
"I have a message here for Mr. Caine. Would that be you, sir?" The fresh-faced kid held a clipboard out. "Sign at number 33."
I scrawled my name, and he handed me a small ivory envelope with no return address. My name had been carefully calligraphed across the front. I flipped it over and opened it. I found another smaller envelope inside the first, again with my name carefully written across it. From that second envelope I pulled a square piece of very expensive printed cardstock. It read, "Ms. Nerys Loring requests the pleasure of Mr. Tycho Caine's presence for a private dinner this evening at 8 p.m. Dress will be formal, with cocktails at 7 p.m. RSVP by return messenger."
I tapped the card against the fingers of my left hand. Despite the drive to Sedona and the bizarre adventures so early in the day, El Espectro had returned us to Eclipse before 2 in the afternoon—or so the digital part of my watch reported. The analog portion, before I reset it, said 10 p.m. Glancing at my watch, I saw that I had three and a half hours before
Nerys expected me, and I knew I could not refuse the invitation. This should be fascinating.
I looked up. "You're waiting for the reply?"
The messenger nodded.
"I accept."
"Very good, sir. I was told to tell you that a VIP pass for the maglev to the Lorica tower will be waiting for you at the Madison Street
station. You can use the upper lounge. You will be met when you arrive."
I punched the button to summon the tranversor again, then handed him a 10 dolmark bill.I left Juanita watching him until he departed, then retreated to Marit's private office. In her Rolodex I found a number for the Sunburst Foundation and dialed it. I was not surprised to hear Hal answer the phone.
"Hal, it's Caine. We're back." I filled him in on the outing, but left the bizarre parts out. As I told it to him, we got a lead, got caught in a strange storm and arranged for alternate transport back to Phoenix. I let him know Marit had been hurt but not seriously, then I dropped the bombshell of Nerys' invitation.
"My, my, you do travel in, ah, fast circles. Eight o'clock dinner? You should be through and free by midnight, unless you're planning to spend more time with Nerys."
"Thanks, but I don't think so." I remembered the picture she had purchased during the auction. "I don't think her idea of fun and mine overlap."
"Good. I have a meeting scheduled for here, at my home, at 1 a.m. I'd like you to be here, if possible." He hesitated, and I heard some ambivalence enter his voice. "I'm meeting with the leadershipof the Blood Crips, Jade Dragons and Diablos here at my house. They are getting harder to calm down. I'd like you to be here to show them I have the tools necessary, if it comes to that, to restrain the Aryans."
"You're the velvet glove, and I'm the steel fist?"
"Something like that. I don't need you shooting anyone, but you have the stone killer act down as well as anyone. A new face will make them think I am making moves that will keep things on the level for them."
"I understand. I'll be there."
"Thanks. I'll see you later."
"Later."
I quickly made one more call. None of the clothes I had were formal, so I dialed up Roger's number at The Gentleman's Wardrobe. "I'm afraid I have to impose on your services, Roger."
"Not to worry, Mr. Caine," he said soothingly, "We have already begun work on your tuxedo. It will be styled similarly to the other suit we made for you. Ms. Loring will be impressed."
"Do you read minds, Roger?"
"Would that I did, Mr. Caine. It would save me oodles of money that I now pay catering services to furnish me with guest lists for parties." He tried to sound world-weary, but I heard plenty of self-pleasure in his voice. "Your name came by this morning, and we started work immediately."
I frowned. "Why would a catering company need a guest list?"
"My dear Mr. Caine, you would not expect the social doyens of our glittering metropolis to give substandard soirées, would you? The caterers in this city have a massive database with information about everything from dietary restrictions to social feuds. They toss the guest list into this vast program, and it sets menus, provides seating charts, settles questions of protocol and even sets distances between guests depending upon how torrid their affairs are or how amicable their divorces were. You are guaranteed that you will never taste the same entree in a calender year and, if you own a winery or distillery, your table will be supplied with the best you have to offer. It is quite impressive."
"So I see." I thought for a second, then asked, "So, if you have a guest list, perhaps you can tell me who else will be there."
"Well, Mr. Caine, only because you are such a good customer. The party will be quite intimate this evening. You are the only guest and, from what I see of the menu, Ms. Loring may even be intending to have you for dessert."
"I consider myself duly warned. Thank you, Roger."
"Thank you, Mr. Caine. We will have your tuxedo for you by six o'clock."
Roger was as good as his word. When the tuxedo arrived, Juanita awakened me from a dreamless nap. I showered, taped a new bandage over my forehead, then dressed. The tux fit perfectly. I opted not to bring my Krait, but I did still wear my bulletproof vest beneath my shirt. While I hardly expected anything weird to happen, the encounter with the man at Danny's Place made me cautious enough to want body armor.
Juanita was kind enough to give me instructions on how to get to the Madison Street
maglev station. I noted amusingly that she referred to it as the "mangle train," but I gathered the term came more from the hopes and wishes of the folks in Eclipse than any actual historical incident. Armed with her directions, I took the elevator down to Level 20, then took a people mover from Goddard Tower #1 to the Southern Pacific Tower and down to Level 10. There I found the maglev station, and after identifying myself, was given a pass and admitted to the VIP lounge.
A poster on the wall gave me an overview of the whole system. "Local" trains ran from City Center to the various corporate citadels. "Circuit" trains ran counterclockwise around the corporate citadel circuit. The bullet train, which ran on the ground, left from the Madison Street/Southern Pacific terminal annex in Eclipse to go to the regional airport southeast of the city. It ran through a tunnel for the entire length of the trip through Eclipse, so no one would be subjected to having to see how the majority of people in the city lived. Moreover, each of the windows had been fitted with a flat, LCD screen that could be tuned to the local TV stations or, if a passenger so desired, a "scenery" channel that, no matter time of the year, presented simulated real-time views of the desert outside.
To complete my journey, I had to take the local train from the Madison Street
station to the Honeywell & Koch local station. From there I would only have to walk across the VIP lounge to the circuit side and catch the next train out, which would deliver me directly to Lorica Industries. Taking a local train to Lorica would have forced me to travel across City Center to the Randolf Road
station. Given the relative speeds of the maglevs with the local trains in City Center, the less direct route would save me a minimum of 15 minutes.
The maglev train that rolled slowly into the station had a triangular shape to it. The lower, wider section serviced the workers from City Center heading out to catch the circuit train and the people who were coming into City Center for the evening. The smaller, upper deck on the train car was reserved for VIPs who, from the look of the other people waiting in the lounge, were corporate officers or visitors from foreign nations.
I waited for a handful of people to disembark, then I got onto the train. The upper deck's luxurious appointments rivaled the beauty and comfort of Marit's apartment. Instead of the tightly packed, lightly padded fiberglass benches down below, we had plush, velvet upholstered couches and a ring of televisions up along the sloped roof. A uniformed stewardess greeted us and helped us fasten seat belts. She pointed out how to tune the little earpiece she handed me, then she tended to the others and signaled the engineer we were read to depart.
We rocketed out of the station at 6:30 p.m. The dying sun cast long shadows from City Center over the eastern half of the city. As we rode high above Frozen Shade, I could easily see how and why the world views of those who lived in Eclipse and the corporate executives never meshed. From this vantage point the people of the corporate power set saw a city of unparalleled beauty. Frozen Shade, except where the sunlight glinted up from panel joints, appeared a flat black, pacific ocean. The corporate citadels rose from the black waves like mighty island nations. The protrusions of natural rocks like Camelback Mountain and Squaw Peak to the north or South Mountain to the south turned the whole valley into a Zen garden maintained by giants.
From here there was no clue to the grimy, grim conditions in Eclipse. Like angels in heaven, or gods living high in mountain strongholds, the privileged of the world did not have to dirty their feet with the affairs of mortals. Frozen Shade gave them the power they needed to make their world
function, and it also shielded them from having to even acknowledge the people living outside their domains.
The local train took me into the heart of the Honeywell & Koch citadel. I made the transfer easily to the circuit train and arrived at Lorica with 10 minutes to spare before I was supposed to arrive. I wondered very briefly how I would recognize my escort or I would be recognized, but I dismissed my concern as I knew Merys was a clever woman.
Only when I stepped from the maglev train did I realize exactly how clever she was. I saw three men waiting for me. Two were improbably large and wore suits big enough to have been tailored for cement sewer piping. The third man was not dressed as well as I was, but certainly better than when I had seen him last. His eyes shaded behind dark glasses, he extended his hand to me. "Welcome to Lorica, Mr. Caine. I am Radu Leich. Ms. Loring sent me to get you."
Close up the man did, in fact, have a star-shaped scar on his right cheek and a limited amount of left-right facial asymmetry. It looked as if the cheekbone on the right side of his face had been pared down. Still, the scar did not seem nearly as pronounced as it had only yesterday in Danny's Place. His left hand, which was not gloved, did not look that much different than his right, though the bluish veins did not show through the pale flesh quite as well.
Coincidence I told myself. Yes, Leich looked remarkably like the Reaper I had shot in the face, and the star scar could have been a reminder of that injury. That was assuming, of course, that having forced a bullet through his head and out the back of his skull had not killed him. That, I knew, was patently impossible.
Then again, returning from Sedona by strolling through a land of gray and purple was impossible as well.
"Please, Mr. Leich, take me to your leader."
He nodded and preceded me from the VIP lounge. From the narrow walkway we used to get from the lounge to a central elevator cylinder, I was able to get a good look at the entire Lorica Citadel. The cylinder formed the hub of the complex with walkways going off in six directions like spokes. Unlike City Center, which had been done in white marble and bright colors, the Lorica Citadel boasted mostly dark colors and mirrored trim. The whole of the complex, from there in the middle, looked like a tunnel created to connect heaven and hell.