by Jak Koke
A cybernetic circuit kicked in this time, and Lethe sensed his words dropping into the man's mind via the interface.
Instead of relaxing, this only made Burnout roll into a crouch again, the weapon on his third arm turning this way and that, searching for his nonexistent opponent. "How the frag are you activating my IMS? I don't take kindly to people fragging with my mind, or my cyber. Now show yourself."
"I am called Lethe, Burnout, and am incapable of showing myself because I have no physical body."
"A damn ghost." Burnout muttered as he stood. "Never heard of a damn ghost wielding that kind of power before. Well, wherever you are, I guess I owe you one, both for the warning, as well as the banishment."
The machine translated. "I'm no ghost, and I'm guessing you might be less thankful when you learn the real truth."
"Don't frag with me, you ethereal slot. I gave my thanks, now I'll be on my way. Stop me if you can, otherwise leave me alone."
Lethe sighed, not really expecting the machine to translate the sound, but wasn't surprised when it did. "I can neither stop you, nor can I leave you alone. Had I suspected I could use this IMS device inside you to communicate, I would have made my presence known days ago."
"Invoked Memory Stimulator," Burnout muttered as he pushed himself into motion again.
"What?"
"The IMS," Burnout said. "It stimulates my memories when my spirit starts to drift. Or at least that's what they said it does. Hasn't kicked in since the fall."
"Maybe that's because of me."
"Tell me about it."
As they moved, Lethe unraveled the story of the fall. How he had possessed Burnout to protect the Dragon Heart. How he was trapped inside. Lethe spoke about being able to move Burnout's body when the cyber-zombie lost consciousness, about latching onto the jet boat and pulling them out of the river.
"So that's how I escaped Mercury. I guess I owe you more than just one." Burnout's tone was happy for the first time. But he didn't speak again for a long time, and it seemed to Lethe as though the man was thinking.
"Burnout," Lethe said. "I think that blood spirit was sent to find you. But I don't think it was sent by Ryan."
"So the Azzies are looking for me, too," Burnout said. "That scans true. The spirit was trying to knock me out. I'm worth a lot to them."
"I've started to mask the trail you leave in the astral," Lethe said. "It's not invisible, but it'll be a lot harder for spirits and mages to find us."
"You can do that?"
"My strength is limited in here, but I'll do my best."
"Thanks," Burnout said. "Though I don't like owing debts to anyone."
For the first time, Burnout made a camp of sorts that night at the bottom of a sheer rock face that stretched several hundred meters up into the air. They talked until almost dawn, speaking of how to best evade discovery by Ryan Mercury or Aztechnology. They also discussed where they could find a safe haven, but never strayed too far from the topic of the Dragon Heart. Burnout was fascinated by the artifact, by the power that he could feel, could almost touch, but that remained just beyond his grasp.
"When the blood spirit got me," Burnout said, "and you banished him, I felt the power. Almost like I was part of the magic. I haven't felt that familiar tingle since…"
Burnout sat bolt upright. "Of course. I should have thought of that before."
Lethe sensed excitement build inside Burnout, anticipation.
Burnout stood, and looked up at the stars. "I wasn't always like this. That sounds obvious, but the truth isn't. You see, I used to be a mage. I used to talk with spirits like yourself, used to control those spirits."
This admission stunned Lethe. He knew that the metal in Burnout's body decimated magical ability and couldn't understand how any mage would sacrifice magic to become this abomination. "Why did you change?"
Burnout's voice turned far away. "It wasn't purposeful.
Just a progression of small adjustments, each seemingly innocuous. Until my magic was as dry as the desert wind. I've always been the best at what I do, so when all I had left was my physical abilities, I taught myself how to kill with my hands. I learned how to use weapons, and eventually, I sold myself to Aztechnology in exchange for… for this life. If you can call it that." Burnout shook his head. "I haven't thought about it much since the cyber-mantic operations. In fact, I haven't thought much at all."
"I'm sorry."
Burnout's voice was harsh with furor. "Don't pity me, spirit. I can't stomach it."
"But you feel some of the magic now?"
"Yes, it feels the same as just before I first learned to tap into my Art. And that is why we're going to Pony Mountain. To see the Kodiak."
"The Kodiak?"
"Yes. He is a very powerful shaman who follows the Bear totem. He was the first to recognize the magic in me. I lived with him for a few months when I was a child."
Lethe was confused again. "A few months? Seems too short for a student to learn magic."
Burnout shrugged, and sat again, propping his back against the cliff face. "Well, things didn't work out quite like the Kodiak had hoped. Even though I tried my best, I couldn't contact any form of totem. Something seemed off kilter about his methods of magic. Finally he told me I would have to leave. Almost broke my heart. I thought I was a failure. But he took me by the hand, and led me to top of Pony Mountain. We looked out on the deep valley, and he told me that there was more than one avenue to power. That my gift was different from his, and if I wanted to tap that gift, I would have to find a new teacher. One who practiced my form of the craft."
Lethe sighed. "Why do you wish to go back now?"
"Don't you see? The Heart is like this universal piece of magic, something either shaman or mage can tap into. Maybe all I need to do is relearn the path. Maybe the Kodiak can teach me a new path so I could tap into its power."
Lethe remained silent, but he was deeply troubled.
Burnout was talking just like Ryan Mercury now. However, a glimmer of hope remained. If this shaman was as powerful and kind as Burnout had suggested, perhaps he could be persuaded to help extricate Lethe from Burnout's body or even to take the Dragon Heart to Thayla.
"What you say has merit, though it also seems as if you are setting yourself up for disappointment."
Burnout didn't respond.
"The Dragon Heart is powerful, perhaps the most powerful magical artifact that exists in the world today. But there is so much dead material inside you…"
Burnout nodded, and Lethe realized that if the cyber-zombie had human eyes still, he would be crying. "Yes. I kissed it all away. But I have to try. Even if there's only the slimmest chance, it'd be worth it.
"Besides, I'm up against a wall here. This is the only path that would give me an edge over Ryan. I know his type. He's not going to stop. He's going to keep coming, with more and more firepower until I go down. I have to do this."
Just then, the sun peeked over the edge of the cliff, sending brilliant light into the chilly, crystalline clear air smelling crisply of pine trees. Burnout climbed to his feet, extending thirty-centimeter blades from his forearm as he reached for the rock. The blades shot into the rock and anchored. Burnout put one foot up against the rock and held it as a long spike shot out of his heel and anchored into the rock.
"Time to move," said Burnout. Then he pulled himself up, and anchored the next step, beginning his assault on the cliff face.
They were about halfway up when they heard the unmistakable subsonic thrum of approaching helicopters.
3
In the approaching Lear-Cessna Platinum III, Ryan looked through the scratched macroglass. The flight from Hells Canyon had been uneventful and relatively smooth, giving him time to get nervous about seeing Nadja.
Can we ever be close again? he wondered.
The endless city sprawled over the land below. Corporate arcologies and Federal high-rises of blue and silver glass clustered together in the distance as the jet approached, the
ir shine dulled by the haze of blood-colored smog. Darkening in the late-afternoon sun.
Surrounding the cluster, the sprawl lay like a tiger… brought down by a pack of hyenas. The huge beast had been harried and scarred by a thousand tiny wounds, until it lacked the strength to fight or flee. It merely lay there bleeding its life into the rust-colored Potomac.
Riot-caused fires burned all over the ruined areas of the city, sending black smoke into the air. Outside the central cluster, tenements and low-slung office buildings were boarded up. Few residents walked the streets in the aftermath of Dunkelzahn's assassination. The only pedestrians to be seen were rioters, tight groups of heavily armed Federal police, and corporate security.
Ryan knew this city was not unique; it could be any of a thousand just like it. A thousand individual names- Newark, Philadelphia, Baltimore-but all one stretch of concrete and rebar. One never-ending metropolis that ranged from Boston to Atlanta.
It could be any city, but it wasn't. It was Washington FDC, the seat of government for the United Canadian and American States. The city where Dunkelzahn was assassinated. Until his untimely death two weeks earlier, the great dragon Dunkelzahn had been Ryan's master-his benefactor, teacher, father figure, and friend. Ryan missed the old wyrm.
"Bossman, we're going in to National Airport. Heart of the Federal cluster, and it looks like there are limos waiting on the runway. Miss Daviar must have pulled some serious strings to bypass security like that." Dhin's tusky growl was full of good humor this afternoon. Happy to have a break from the exhausting routine of Hells Canyon. "I just love having friends in high places."
Ryan nodded, though Dhin couldn't see him. Nadja, sweet Nadja, with all the shakedown from Dunkelzahn's will, she had enough clout to pull strings all over the world. Before Dunkelzahn's death, she had been the dragon's voice, translating his telepathic speech into vocals for the world. She had also managed his presidential campaign with intensity and extreme intelligence.
But now, in the aftermath of the assassination, Nadja had become the head of the Draco Foundation, a new megacorporation founded from the dragon's major holdings. She was also the current nominee for vice-president of UCAS. One tiny tug from her immaculately manicured fingers, and people in the farthest corners of the Awakened Earth jumped to do her bidding.
Ryan smiled as he thought about Nadja, the beauty of her face, her curvaceous body, her hard-line sense of duty, her keen intellect and ordered mind, her aura of command. All these things she had, and all of these things she had offered to him without reservation, with a deep abiding love and trust that threatened to take his breath away. It stunned him that a woman of such personal prowess could turn so gentle, so tender in those few moments they had alone together.
At least that was the way it had been before…
With a dull thump and the high whine of braking jets, the Platinum III kissed the tarmac. Ryan gathered up his suitcase, and stood, buttoning his double-breasted sharkskin suit coat. On the outside, he looked like any other high-powered exec, but underneath the corporate broker disguise, Ryan was unadulterated flesh and magically enhanced muscle. Beneath the Armante tailoring was an arsenal to make a weapon-fetishist drool with envy. Guns and darts, grenades and knives, all hidden from view.
The jet rolled to a stop, and Ryan moved to the front of the cabin, meeting Dhin as the ork exited the cockpit. In Dhin's gnarled face, Ryan saw a mirror of his own exhaustion. Dhin was dressed in a brown suit that seemed a bit too small for the big ork, straining at the bulge of his chest and arms, but Ryan knew that was deceptive. The suit very effectively hid the twin nickel-plated Savalette Guardian pistols under each armpit. Dhin's scarred lips cracked into a grin, showing yellow fangs and a broken left tusk. "End of the line-everybody off."
The big ork pressed the stud that triggered the pressure door. Dull, wet heat swam into the cool cabin, bringing a familiar stench to Ryan's magically enhanced sense of smell. It was the stink of the battlefield, a burned, dead scent that bespoke tremendous violence and suffering.
Dhin wrinkled his flat nose, wide nostrils flaring. "Smells like something died out there."
Ryan nodded. "Something did." Then he stepped into the humid, oppressive afternoon.
As he descended the short steps to the hot tarmac, Ryan was aware of Dhin following closely behind, could picture the ork's body posture, eyes scanning the runway for possible trouble, one meaty hand buried in his suit jacket, ready to pull a Guardian at the first sign of something amiss. Playing his corporate bodyguard role to the hilt.
Ryan reached the ground, training and instinct sending his body into full alert, his senses testing every turn of the foul breeze, cataloging every possible vantage point from the nearby buildings where a sniper could find an attack position, infrared vision scanning for heat signatures in places where there shouldn't be any. His hearing automatically tuned out the dull background noises that come standard with a bustling airport, searching for that elusive sound, the one that didn't belong, the one that spelled danger.
Ryan concentrated as he stepped toward the two limousines, and his vision shifted into the astral, searching and scanning for threats. He found nothing out of the ordinary.
The limos were jet-black Mitsubishi Nightskys, their sleek bodies glossed to a high shine that fractured the sunlight into a rainbow of reflection. The side doors were embossed with the Draco Foundation logo, the image lasered and holographic, making it three-dimensional.
Ryan shook his head. He would rather have landed at one of the smaller, less prestigious airfields, and journeyed to Dunkelzahn's Georgetown estate in something a little less flashy. Like an armored step-van. But in corporate and federal dominated downtown DC, this cover was less conspicuous than anything else.
The near passenger door of the lead limo opened, and a thin human with white hair stepped up to meet them. The man was dressed in a suit similar to Ryan's, though it hung loose on the older man's whipcord frame. He smiled. "Mister Mercury?"
Ryan nodded and took the man's outstretched hand, which gripped his own like a dead fish-limp, damp, and soft.
"I'm Maxwell Hersh, assistant to Miss Carla Brooks. She wanted to greet you personally, but her new position on the Scott Commission has made her extremely busy. She sends her regards, and hopes your trip was smooth and uneventful."
Ryan grinned for the first time that day. Carla Brooks, a.k.a. Black Angel-Dunkelzahn's former head of security-had never composed a sentence half that long which didn't contain at least six expletives. Now, Carla served as chief of security for Nadja and the Draco Foundation as well as being part of the Scott Commission-a primarily political committee that was investigating Dunkelzahn's assassination. Ryan was glad of it. There was no one better.
Maxwell returned the grin as though he understood Ryan's thoughts about the political correctness of his boss. "She also left me some instructions, though she said you would probably countermand them, saying that I should persist, just up to the point where you are about to beat me half to death, then allow you to do whatever you feel is best. If it's all right with you, we'll skip the verbal sparring and get right to the point where you do what you want. Agreed?"
Behind Ryan, Dhin's barking laughter carried in the sluggish air.
Ryan smiled again; he felt better than he had in days. "Agreed," he said. "What were your instructions?"
Maxwell gestured to the limo. "The cars each come with a rigger. Under no circumstances am I to allow your companion to drive the limos. Miss Brooks seems to believe that if you're left to your own devices, you'll get into mischief of some kind. And…" Maxwell looked from Ryan to Dhin, sizing the ork up in one casual sweep, "And she also seems to think that if your companion is allowed in command of the controls, the Draco Foundation will soon be minus a very expensive luxury auto."
Dhin snorted. "Like they couldn't afford it."
Ryan stepped up to Maxwell and put his massive arm around the thin man's shoulders, turning him in the direction of the lim
o. "I'll be sure and tell your boss that you did your best to dissuade me from deviating from her schedule, and that you even threw your body in front of the limo to prevent us from doing anything foolish. However, as Carla correctly anticipated, my companion will drive. I assume you can find your way in the other vehicle."
Maxwell nodded and opened the rear door of the lead Nightsky for Ryan.
Dhin had already stepped to the driver's door, opened it, and motioned for the waiting driver to exit, which the woman did without so much as a blink.
"Many thanks, Maxwell. It was a pleasure meeting you."
"Likewise, Mister Mercury. May your journey be swift and its rewards be great."
Ryan smiled and closed the door. Within seconds, the heavy limo was exiting the front gate and pulling out into the sparse traffic of the corporate cluster. Alone in the rich interior, nestled into the plush seat that seemed to mold to every contour of Ryan's body, his good feeling started to fade. His mind refused to shut down, refused to let him relax.
Everything had gone wrong with the recovery of the Dragon Heart, and for the first time since the death of his parents, Ryan had failed. It was not a feeling he was used to, one he did not want to get used to. His stomach was in knots, and dull pain wracked his gut.
Dunkelzahn's message came back to him. The message relayed to Ryan several days ago by a spirit that had somehow been bound even after the dragon's death.
"Your mission," the spirit had said, speaking in a voice like Dunkelzahn's, "is to take the Dragon Heart to the metaplanes and give it to the one whose song protects the spike created by the Great Ghost Dance. She is called Thayla. I will repeat this once, Ryanthusar, because it is so important. Retrieve the Dragon Heart and deliver it to Thayla-the bridge must not be finished.
"In order to complete your task, you must enlist the service of a powerful mage who knows the ritual that can carry you and the Dragon Heart into the metaplanes. This mage must also be absolutely committed to this endeavor. Of all my friends, only two fit these criteria…
