Leviathan screamed in pain and surged wildly forward, blasting Thor into a stand of stalagmites and Thor heard himself howling through a haze of red blood. Then his forearm swept violently back to thunderously shatter a stone column and Thor found his feet to swing the ax forward once more, striking the Dragon solidly across the neck.
Stunned, Leviathan swayed its head back, screaming, and Thor surged inward, grappling as they fell together to the dirt where Thor struck, scraping and pulling with bone-burned fingers to tear chunks of armor from the beast.
As one they rolled across the cavern floor, taking the battle to the death and Thor recognized wildly that he was howling a Nordic death song that his mythic grandfather had taught him, a death dirge he had long forgotten.
In death they rolled, breath to breath, striking at each other in a storm of burning blood that left a smoking black cloud behind them. And Thor knew nothing more, nothing but the monstrosity before him, the blood and the battle that he would not lose, no matter the cost, no matter ...
Colossal, the Dragon surged.
It was of no avail.
Thor matched it, screaming and howling and, measure for measure, lifting the battle-ax in smoking blood only to bring it down again. And finally they grappled in utter darkness, all strength exhausted, only hearts rising to the collision of souls that had brought this titanic battle to the world.
Thor struck again at the Dragon, no sight, no sensation to draw him through the conflict. He had lost it all, lost all that he had ever been. For now there was only this final conflict to end his life. But it no longer mattered because nothing mattered but this – this fight between what cursed the world and what defended it.
Old guardian of the people …
Then there was a slow throe of the Dragon and Thor found himself suddenly on top and strangely distant from the world as if all his life had been this moment, as if this moment was all there had ever been and all he had ever been. And with a savage, bloody roar Thor brought the battle-ax high, pausing to aim straight and true, and the Dragon lay still, smoking and blood-drenched in black and Thor hammered the steel once more, lifting his entire body into the blow with all that remained within him.
The blow struck deep, deep, and the Dragon received it with a convulsive rise of its head and an instinctive reaction of its body, twisting.
But it did not strike back.
White and faint, Thor watched the air smoke, as it had always smoked with the blood of the beast because this was all there had ever been—this moment, this battle. He dragged the thick smoking blade through the wound, watching. And then, with the sheer force of battle, he lifted the battle-ax again and brought it down once more upon the wide blackened cleft in Leviathan’s neck.
The battle-ax struck clear to the spine, biting deep. And Thor, with the last reserve of a strength he never knew he possessed, tore it free, twisting away to fall heavily across the cavern floor.
In darkness Thor rolled, for this was no longer the world he knew. This was a world apart, a world that had always existed but was only known by those who had defied the Dragon.
Everything was dark and bloody and deathlike as Thor rose to his knees, leaning forward upon his forehead. But he still held the battle-ax, the battle-ax in his hand. And behind him lay the Dragon.
In a light haze, Thor struggled, lifting his head.
Darkness, darkness everywhere.
Thor moaned in the white pain of dark, dark death. But he knew he had claimed the victory, though he could feel no victory. He cried out, his hand locked so solidly around the ax that he could not release it. For his hand was the ax, all his soul there, in the hold.
In sheer defiance, in victory, Thor brought a foot beneath him, and stood, all his remaining strength in the effort. Then he swayed above the monstrous, black-scaled beast on the floor. But as he caught again the sight of it Thor stood even straighter, staring down.
Leviathan lay still.
No breath escaped Thor. He no longer commanded breath. Something had gripped him, something he could not resist and which he no longer held any will to resist. In some inner heart, he knew.
It was over.
Leviathan lay at his feet, as was fitting.
Thor took a step back, gaining distance from the beast. But it lay still, unmoving. He took another step in darkness, watching, raising the battle-ax in a dead arm. But it did not move.
With fading, fading strength, Thor stepped back, counting— six, seven, eight, and then nine steps from the beast. He stood his ground, hovering between life and death, staring. But the Midgard Serpent did not rise, did not stand or pursue.
It was dead.
As it was meant to be.
Thor did not grimace or smile, cast no illusion of joy. He raised his head, seeing the hazy, thickening darkness around him, closing in from the edges of all that he was.
Dark, dark; it was there.
Death...
A familiar voice, a brother’s voice, brought him around.
Thor turned to see a face, a strange, familiar face. The man was staring tragically upon him, tears in his eyes. Thor gazed numbly at the sight, beholding someone that he knew, but couldn’t remember. Then the man stepped forward, reaching out, his face in pain, tears falling.
Thor grimaced, glaring.
“An age of heroes,” he whispered.
Death struck Thor in the knees, bringing him to the ground. And Thor finally fell, leaning on a hand, the other hand frozen round the ax. Then he collapsed, teeth clenched through darkness ...
To light ...
Connor kneeled numbly over his friend.
It was over, and Connor leaned his head back with a groan.
“God ...” he moaned. “Oh, God ... God ...”
Connor bent his head forward again. He never even had a chance to enter the battle. It had been over from the beginning. He knelt in silence, his head bent, broken.
There was nothing beyond this, nothing, nothing.
There was only this giant hero of a man, lying in death at his feet. Connor’s head bent forward and he felt himself choking on emotion. Then he bent his head deeper and placed a hand on his friend’s chest, hearing himself moaning. Through blinding tears he grimaced, closing his eyes finally to what welled within him. Then he struggled, finding a brief settling and he opened his eyes once more. And in silence he was suddenly still, gently resting his hand on Thor’s great breast, the greatness forever stilled.
“A heroic age,” he whispered. “But I think the last of its heroes ... has passed.”
Silence, darkness, and tears.
Connor bowed his head.
Chapter 34
The fail-safe is defused.” Rachel said the words softly, so unlike ... a machine.
Frank hovered in a suddenly dark and separate space, sensing an exhaustion that bordered on death. He felt something within him wounded, deeply wounded. And somehow, he was no longer aware that he was in Cyberspace. With a slight falling he floated slowly forward, drawn like a magnet toward the artificial life-form before him.
Rachel smiled, raising her hands.
“Rachel ...” he whispered, lifting his hands slightly.
It was all forgotten, the fail-safe, the fear, and the pain as Frank stood once more in this place, before her. He opened his mouth to speak, needing no breath, needing nothing at all as he somehow sensed the visage of his own reality changing, softening. He had been here so many times, but nothing had ever seemed so ... so real.
Rachel’s scarlet-neon face returned the gaze.
Frank hovered, and then it was as if the artificial network surrounding them disappeared altogether. Rachel changed, becoming more of what she was, solid and embracing. Dazed, Frank gazed to the side to find himself in wonderful blackness with Rachel before him becoming more and more, more ...
Rachel
...
But the dark thought came hard, crashing.
No!
Frank closed his eyes.
Not Rachel!
With a supreme effort of will Frank opened his eyes again, trying to remember.
No, it’s not real. But all his life was here, he knew, all the best of life that he had ever known and would ever know. It had been here, in this place, with her, no matter what place this was. Yes, the best...
Frank lowered his face, looking away, closing his eyes and trying violently to remember Rachel the way she truly was, the way she had been. But it seemed the same to him, somehow, in his heart, what stood before him and what he had loved, love bridging the gap between the two...
He struggled, an effort that took the last of his heart …
“No,” he shook his head. “No, she’s gone ... ”
Holding place solidly in blackest space, Frank stared once more upon the apparition, knowing he had brought it forth and could not blame it. And, grimacing, he nodded his head, knowing the best of his heart would always be here …
Slowly, groaning in pain, Frank floated upward.
Rachel lowered her hands to her sides. Her face seemed to reveal something that struck him, moving him only as life could move him and Frank cried out, almost surging forward again to lose himself to this, this ...
Then Rachel blinked, speaking softly to his mind.
“Good-bye, Frank ...”
Frank closed his eyes, clenching his fists as he raised his face to the darkness. And in a bolt of power he understood as solidly as he lived that nothing, nothing, not even death could take from him what he treasured most—that brief moment in time where he had been truly happy, when he had held in his arms the heart and hope of his life. And then, with another shock, he understood why the words had come so softly to him, understood why this was such a dangerous, dangerous place ...
What is your final purpose?
“To please my Creator …”
Gasping in pain, Frank lowered his hands to his side, gazing hard upon the false reality before him. And he knew in his heart that this was too much-would-always-be-too-much.
Remembered love was enough.
It had to be.
“Good-bye, Rachel,” he whispered.
She smiled.
“Good-bye, Frank ...”
Frank paused a moment more, staring, capturing the moment and knowing that it would never come again. No, not as long as he lived. Because he could never endure this again, would never allow himself to suffer and endure it again.
Enough, he nodded, stepping back.
It’s enough.
A pause, a volcanic gathering of final will, and Frank gazed upward. The darkness was there. And beyond that, the light.
It was time.
He rose toward dark space, ascending slowly at first and then faster, and faster. With gathering speed he soared upward, hurtling like a torpedo through the spider-network of nerve-light to see the maroon-colored crust of the Logic Core looming closer, closer, a sea of red.
With face upraised and fists at his sides, Frank’s flight reached the speed of light as he burst through the scarlet surface into a bright, blazing, amazing world of white.
***
Connor laid Thor upon the ground and paused, exhausted.
It had been brutally difficult to drag the giant’s body into an adjoining room of the Matrix. But, logically or not, Connor had been unwilling to leave his friend in the room with the beast. Not even in death, he decided, would it have any victory.
Thor lay silently on the cold stone floor and Connor gazed down, struck by the sight. He shook his head, still lost in shock, and rose to walk back to where the creature lay.
Leviathan lay limply, sprawled in a smoking pool of blood, poisonous fumes rising through the faint light. Connor frowned over it, stepping carefully over a foreleg to retrieve what he sought. Then he bent, lifting the gigantic battle-ax from the ground.
He gripped the weapon in a tight fist, shocked by the enormous weight. With both hands he lifted the battle-axe before his face, studying the sweeping crescent blades. The edges were black with blood, still smoking and even ... glowing ... so strangely.
Connor squinted, uncertain of what he could truly see or even understand in the gloom. He had been awake for a long time now. Too long, he knew. His eyes were failing him. He didn’t trust his judgment anymore. So he cast the sensation aside and lowered the heavy ax to his side, standing solidly over the wide black pool.
Reflected flames danced in the depths.
Strangely, Connor felt himself recovering from shock as he gazed over Leviathan. Even dead, the Dragon was titanic and horrific beyond all belief. Almost six tons of claw and fang and armor and sinew. And even now, just a few minutes after the horrific battle, Connor could not envision what he had witnessed with his own eyes. But he knew it had happened. Butchered black scales and chunks of armored flesh scattered across a demolished cavern were testimony to the terrible truth.
Too numb to feel anything at all, Connor stood over the Dragon, muttering a hate-filled and merciless curse. Without expression he walked away to again enter the adjoining room where he had laid Thor.
Battle-ax in hand, Connor poised in solemn silence.
Somehow, he felt, he should say something. But words had never meant anything to him, and they didn’t now. All that mattered was what had happened between the two of them in life. And yet for some reason, not even understanding it himself, Connor knelt to lay the battle-ax across Thor’s breast. Then he lifted the great, wounded hands to fold them over the ax.
Unexpectedly moved by the closeness, Connor paused to find himself gripping one of the massive hands he had crossed over the wide, muscular chest and battle-ax.
Clutching tightly for a moment, Connor bowed his head. Then he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth against the pain before he stood, strong and angry, to his feet.
A tear fell as he stared down.
It struck the ground as he turned away.
Chapter 35
Beth shouted as Frank’s body suddenly convulsed. Instantly she had leaped from the control panel to run forward, gaining the steps of the Cyberspace Module in seconds.
With frantic strength she jerked the helmet from Frank’s head to free his mind from Cyberspace control. She tore the connecting wires from the suit, not knowing which were most important and not taking time to figure it out. She tore them all.
Frank fell forward, groaning. Blindly his hand rose, trying to unfasten the Cyber suit, and Beth reached around, unzipping the suit, trying to awaken the scientist.
“Frank!” she shouted, grabbing his neck. “Frank! Wake up!”
The scientist blinked, grimacing, as his face went black. He shook his head, gasping, and seemed to recover a dim measure of consciousness, opening his eyes to stare across the cavern. With a dazed look he turned to her.
“The fail-safe ...” he whispered.
“You did it, Frank! You did it!”
Frank blinked and his head dropped heavily forward. Beth caught him as he fell from the Cyberspace Module, lowering him in her strong arms to the floor where he collapsed onto his back, breathing raggedly.
“Are you all right?” she asked, staring down.
The scientist coughed and dragged a breath. Then after a long pause he turned his face to gaze upward into her eyes and Beth saw the image of a man remembering a terrible, scarring pain.
“Are you all right, Frank?”
She waited for an answer, but he said nothing.
Closed his eyes again.
***
Gasping, Barley staggered into the Computer Cavern, holding Jordan tight in his arms. The lieutenant’s fatigues were soaked with sweat, his face a glistening mask.
“Barley!” Beth screamed, running f
orward to lift Jordan from his arms. And as she did, the big man collapsed to the floor, wasted from the long journey through the cavern.
“Where’s Connor?” Beth shouted. “Barley! Where’s Connor? Where’s Thor? What happened?”
Barley shook his head, breathless. He lifted an arm and pointed toward the corridor. “They was ... they was fighting the Dragon in the Matrix,” he gasped. “Connor went into the shaft to help Thor. He told me ... he told me to bring Jordan here. I don’t know what happened, Beth.” He shook his head, almost shedding tears. “I’m sorry, Beth. But I just don’t know ... I’m sorry as I can be ...”
Grieving, the big lieutenant bowed his forehead to the ground, and Beth found herself over him. Her heart was hurt for Connor and Thor but she somehow felt surpassing compassion and gratitude for this man who had carried her son so selflessly through the cavern. Without thought her arm settled over Barley’s shoulder, embracing his exhausted form.
“It’s okay, Barley,” she whispered as she felt a tear fall. “Thank you for taking care of Jordan. No matter what happens, thank you for taking care of Jordan ...”
Barley nodded, before he fell forward.
Unconscious.
***
Exhausted and bone-burned with fatigue, Connor staggered into the Computer Cavern. Beth was standing on the dais as he entered, and he saw her face open in shock.
“Connor,” she whispered. “What happened? Where’s Thor?”
Clenching his teeth, fighting to arouse his dead will, Connor lowered his head. He gathered himself for a long time, concentrating, leaning against a polished black computer terminal. Then he looked up and saw Barley, grim and saddened, standing alone on the computer dais.
The lieutenant seemed to already know.
“Thor’s dead,” Connor said, eyes roaming the ceiling. “Thor’s dead and that beast is dead, too. Thor killed it. He killed it with his own hands in the Matrix.”
Beth staggered forward.
Thrilled to Death Page 135
