by Bryan Davis
“My next step to fulfill my vow.”
“A cryptic answer.”
“Cryptic for now, at least until I judge whether or not you trust me enough to join me.”
“Join you?” Jared half closed an eye. “Why would I want to do that?”
“I know you must also hope to destroy Arramos. Together I’m sure we can accomplish that goal.”
“But you’re dead.” Jared nodded at Mardon’s hand holding the door. “Though I see you’re solid now. That means there’s an open portal to Second Eden, unless you found some way to get a new body.”
“I assure you, if I could get a new body, it would no longer be deformed.” Mardon glanced inside the store, then to the sky before refocusing on Jared. “There is indeed an open portal to Second Eden. Since you seem to be unaware of it, I assume you cannot answer who opened it or how long the rift will remain.”
Jared shook his head.
“No matter. I will take advantage of the situation while I can, which can also be advantageous for you.”
“I see. You want to negotiate.”
“The parasite has not fogged your mental acuity.” Mardon gestured for Jared to enter the store. “Allow me to buy you something that will help you recover.”
Jared walked in. To the left, a dark-skinned man stood at the register, his hands on the counter, one holding a pistol. Dressed in a khaki shirt, two buttons open to reveal a white T-shirt, he gave Mardon a nod. “Is this a friend of yours?”
“To be sure. He is no danger to you.” Mardon walked to the counter. “Do you have any orange juice?”
The man gestured toward a line of refrigerated units embedded in the wall. “Should be some in there.”
“Any vitamins? Vitamin C tablets?”
He shook his head. “There’s a drugstore down the street, but I think it’s closed. Looters took all the painkillers. They might have vitamins left, though. All I got was some laxatives and hair dye. It’s not much, but you never know what’ll sell in times like these.”
“Quite true.” Mardon opened one of the units, withdrew four glass bottles, and carried them back to the counter. After paying, he bowed his head. “Thank you for allowing me to wait here so long.”
“No problem.” The man smiled. His white teeth provided a stark contrast to his dark skin tones. “I enjoyed your stories. I think I’ll tell some of them to my son.”
When Jared and Mardon walked out the door, Marilyn bustled toward them. “The gas price is through the roof, at least tripled since—” She looked at Mardon and halted. “Oh! Hello.”
Mardon nodded. “Hello, Mrs. Bannister.”
Jared gestured toward him. “This is—”
“I know who he is. Mardon, the mad scientist who created the parasite that nearly killed you.” Marilyn crossed her arms over her chest. “Why is he here?”
“To offer my services.” Mardon pushed an orange juice bottle into Jared’s hand. “Drink. Citric acid and vitamin C will counter the toxins the parasite left behind. If we come to an agreement, I can help you recover much more quickly. Unfortunately I don’t have what I need to facilitate that recovery. Otherwise, I would help you right away simply on your word that we can cooperate.”
Marilyn scowled. “Why should we trust anything you say?”
“Because I bring an offering that I hope will demonstrate my sincerity.” He turned toward the pickup truck parked about a hundred feet away. “I will retrieve it.”
As soon as he walked out of earshot, Marilyn curled her arm around Jared’s. “Are you thinking about trusting him?”
“Not sure yet.” Jared took a long drink from the bottle and drained the juice. After capping it, he tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Obviously he isn’t motivated by any altruism, but we might as well hear him out. He wants to destroy Arramos, so I’m ready to hear his plan.”
“Fair enough. I’m for anything that will stop the Enforcers.”
Mardon returned from the pickup carrying a sword in a scabbard. Holding the hilt with a trembling hand, he withdrew the blade. An engraving on the flat of the blade showed a pair of battling dragons.
Jared whispered, “Excalibur?”
“This next step will prove the sword’s identity.” Mardon set the hilt in Jared’s hand. The blade began to glow. “You are in Arthur’s lineage.”
Jared stared at his own reflection in the metal. How many centuries had it been since Merlin first wielded this sword and disintegrated himself in its transluminating light? Fifteen? And now here it was in his own hands, the great Excalibur!
“With the military otherwise occupied,” Mardon said, “I was able to recover the sword without much difficulty. I now give it to you as a peace offering and as proof that I am dealing in good faith. You may keep it regardless of what we are able to agree upon.”
Jared took the scabbard and slid Excalibur back in place. “Okay. What do you want?”
“To ride with you to West Virginia. I will explain along the way. If my proposal does not meet your approval, you are free to drop me off wherever you wish.” He withdrew a cell phone from his pocket. “If you decline, I am able to obtain alternative transportation.”
Jared gave Marilyn a quick glance. She replied with a nod, though skepticism still bent her features.
After they boarded the RV, Marilyn again driving and Mardon sitting in a captain’s chair next to Jared’s sofa, they headed east-bound on the nearly empty highway.
Mardon handed Jared another bottle of orange juice. “Since I have no love for Tamiel, and since I hate Arramos with a passion, I hope you will realize that I can be an ally.”
“We both know that Arramos disfigured you,” Jared said loudly enough to allow Marilyn to listen in. “We also know about your attempts to join Heaven and Earth, so we’re aware of your desire to help yourself above all other motivations.”
Mardon smiled weakly. “I see that you wish to push aside all pretenses.”
“We’ll save time that way.” Jared took a sip from the bottle. “Just tell me what you want.”
“Very well.” Mardon settled back in his seat. “My mother and I want restoration. Morgan was able to keep our spirits alive in a wraithlike state, and my mother believes that Lauren’s skin cells are the key to restoring our bodies completely. In the process, my scars will be healed and my youthfulness restored. My mother and I will no longer be wraiths who lose physical substance when the portals close between Earth and Second Eden. Theoretically, we could live forever, which was my ultimate motivation for uniting this world with the heavenly realm.”
Jared capped the bottle and kept his gaze on the label. “You and Semiramis living forever isn’t exactly a positive outcome, at least in our eyes.”
“No, I expect not.” Mardon pressed his fingers together. His lips twitched. “That is why I offer you a similar gift. Not eternal life, but certainly a better life. You see, when the government took control of your supercomputer, the officials gave me remote access so that I could search for secrets that they might not be able to locate.”
Jared refocused on him. “And?”
“I found a file with no owner, no date stamp, and no description. When I tried to access it with every user ID in Larry’s database, only yours requested a password. The others did not work at all, and the required security level indicated the highest secrecy. Breaking the encryption proved to be fruitless, but I soon found another way.”
“Go on,” Jared said with a nod.
“When I deduced where you were going, I assumed you hoped to retrieve the file on site.” Mardon leaned closer. “Now you can tell me how to access it.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. “Why would I want to do that?”
“A simple matter. Further deduction leads me to conclude that you want the file in order to provide for your own restoration. The only reason a very sick man is willing to travel so far and at such risk is so that he will find a cure for his sickness. Since I
am the creator of the parasite that disabled you, and since I am the world’s leading expert on genetic manipulation, I am certain that I can help with or even enhance your efforts.”
Jared nodded. “In trade for Lauren’s skin cells, I assume.”
“That and one more request.” Mardon glanced around as if concerned about a hidden recording device. “I gave Excalibur to you for a very important purpose. I know what the military has done to make Fort Knox impenetrable to Elam and the dragons who hope to rescue Sapphira. They will be stepping into danger beyond their ability to predict or defend against. They will either die or be captured.”
“You might be underestimating Elam’s wisdom. He has extraordinary discernment.”
“No doubt. He has proven his mettle time and again. Yet no amount of discernment will be able to counter such brute force.” Mardon nodded at the scabbard. “I am hoping you will be able to use Excalibur to rescue Sapphira.”
Jared blinked. “So you want Sapphira to be rescued?”
“Very much so. You might find this difficult to believe, but I have had a soft spot in my heart for her ever since I fashioned her genetic splicing and rooted her in a pot of soil millennia ago. I knew she and Acacia were special, and I have taken a deep interest in her life ever since.” Tears sparkled in his eyes. “When Devin killed Acacia, I vowed to destroy the efforts of all of his ilk—Morgan, Tamiel, Arramos . . .”
“And your mother?”
Mardon stared at his wringing hands. “I realize that you place my mother in the same category.” Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I want her to be restored, but when that happens, I wish to be separated from her and join Sapphira in Second Eden. I hope to be a research scientist or an advisor to a physician such as Dr. Conner, but I want to be near Sapphira for as long as I can. My mother can stay on Earth with Tamiel and do whatever she pleases, but I hope she never learns that our separation was part of my plan.”
“Where is she now?”
“Tamiel has recruited her to do what she does best—deceive. She is supposed to play the part of Darcy, your grandson’s former foster sister. Because of her wraithlike state and sorceress powers, she is able to manipulate her appearance enough to look the part.”
“Why this charade?”
Mardon shrugged. “I am not aware of the details. We parted ways, and I have not been in touch with her in quite some time. But knowing Tamiel’s purpose, I deduced that she will somehow cause your grandson great distress and contribute to the degradation of Bonnie’s song.”
“Jared,” Marilyn called from the driver’s seat. “I’ve been listening to conversations between Lois and others. The Internet has been abuzz with sightings of Bonnie flying over a Mustang. The driver fits Matt’s description. No photos, but one person said a young woman with reddish-brown hair was riding in the front passenger’s seat.”
“Supposedly Darcy, I assume,” Jared said.
“I cannot verify that assumption, but my mother has a similar hair color.” Mardon stroked his chin. “She has worked remarkably quickly to take on her role as Darcy, so we have reason to believe that the deception is well under way.”
“Lauren and Roxil are trying to find Matt,” Marilyn said, “so we could relay a warning somehow.”
Jared resisted the urge to cringe. Marilyn had just given away information about Lauren in Mardon’s presence. “Go ahead and give it a try. Use the IP spoofing and the usual encryption.”
“So,” Mardon said, leaning closer to Jared, “we need Lauren’s skin cells, not enough to do her any harm—just a graft, no more than what she might donate to cover a surgical scar. She will suffer no lasting effects from the surgery. And as I mentioned, I also want privileged sanctuary in Second Eden. In exchange, I will help you with the restoration that you are planning, tell you more about the trap at Fort Knox, and help you destroy Tamiel and Arramos once and for all.”
When Mardon finished, the only sound came from the never-ending hum of tires on pavement and the motor’s gentle roar. Jared glanced at Marilyn. She glanced back at him. No words were necessary. Mardon’s entreaty held a treasure trove of riches, his motivations were somewhat believable, and the return of Excalibur seemed to prove his earnestness. Yet, one more piece of information could seal the deal.
“Mardon, when I was near death in the Second Eden hospital—”
“Jared,” Marilyn said, “are you sure you want to tell him about that?”
“It’s the only way to know for sure.” Jared cleared his throat. “As I was saying, when I was near death, someone spoke to me about a scheme that Arramos is hatching. Do you know anything about it?”
Mardon nodded. “By your manner and tone, I assume you are saying that you heard a voice in the air, such as an angel, rather than a physical person.”
“That’s not important right now. Just tell me what you know.”
“Very little. Only that if Tamiel fails to bring God’s judgment by fostering corruption, then Arramos will dispose of him, a mere pawn in the larger game. Arramos knows how to bring wrath in the quickest way.”
“And that is?”
“By inciting the already corrupted people to deliver their own children to the gas chambers, anyone too young to be put to forced labor. Something of an offering to Molech.”
Jared tightened his lips. He could barely resist shouting. Marilyn’s eyes lit up. She, too, celebrated this proof—proof that the voice was more than just a dream. Joan of Arc had really visited his hospital bed. Her entreaty for him to return to Earth to battle Arramos was true after all. Someone had to stop that evil dragon’s plan to kill the children.
Mardon smiled, though tentatively. “May I assume from your improved countenance that my report was satisfactory? That perhaps ending Arramos’s cruelty is now a common goal toward which we can strive together?”
“You may assume that.” Jared clasped his hands together. “But I can’t guarantee delivery of the things you’re asking for. Whether or not you can stay in Second Eden will be up to Elam and Sapphira, and I can’t speak for Lauren. She would have to donate skin by her own free will.”
“I anticipated that, so I am willing to proceed on your word that you will personally appeal for these benefits.”
Jared nodded. “I can agree to that. What’s the next step?”
“To continue to West Virginia. Along the way, I will provide what I know about Fort Knox. You can then pass that information to Elam before he faces the danger.”
* * *
Elam drove the van eastward, his mental map set for Kentucky, still a day’s drive in the distance. With Yereq in the back and Makaidos and Thigocia curled tightly in a big trailer to the rear, the cargo felt like thousands of pounds of explosive power—a hazardous load indeed. It wasn’t easy finding a trailer with a roof that opened to let sunlight in, but the hours of searching were worth it. The dragons, still recovering from candlestone wounds, needed the energy infusion. They all had to be ready for what likely would be an all-out war when they arrived at Fort Knox. The military would be more prepared this time, so everyone had to be healthy and well rested.
He looked in the side mirror and rubbed his fake eyebrows— still straight. Even this far from their destination, he couldn’t risk being recognized. Now sporting a dyed-blond hairstyle and wearing a snazzy navy-blue military uniform along with dark sunglasses, maybe he could manage a stealth approach and infiltrate the compound before calling for dragon support.
“How’s my photo ID coming?” he called to the back.
Yereq replied in his usual calm bass tone. “It will be finished in a few minutes. The embedded chip identifies you properly, and Lois says the encryption is up to date, but I still need to laminate it.”
“Good work, Yereq.” Elam touched a phone on the passenger’s seat and turned the screen toward himself. No messages. Since the phone and his tooth transmitter could potentially be tracked, Carly and Lois were supposed to maintain silence unless som
ething monumental happened, so no news was good news. Still, it would be reassuring to hear how Walter and Ashley were getting along in their pursuit of Billy, or how Jared was progressing in his secret quest, but his own mission had to stay secure.
Elam turned the radio to a news station and kept the volume low. Reports of fires, bombings, looting, and other mayhem dominated the broadcast, especially in cities on the coasts. It seemed that the people of Earth had lost their minds, but maybe that could be a blessing in disguise. If the violence spread to the Midwest, that could mean lower security at Fort Knox and easier entry. Maybe the dragons wouldn’t have to face a battery of candlestone guns after all.
Elam blew out a sigh and whispered, “In your dreams.”
“I am finished.” Yereq’s huge hand extended a plastic ID card over the seat.
Elam took it and read the information—Captain Andrew Moffett, security officer from the British Royal Navy. “How’s my British accent, my good man?”
“I have heard several accents from the British Isles,” Yereq said. “Yours sounds Welsh.”
“Welsh will do, I suppose. I’ve practiced so much, I’m thinking in that accent.”
“All for the better. We must make no mistakes.”
“Right.” Elam turned the radio off. His hand shook. He drew it close to his eyes and willed it to stop. Stay calm. Stay focused. Faith and its resulting serenity had been trusted allies for thousands of years. Only peace and a steady hand could pull off this rescue and bring Sapphira back into his embrace.
Chapter 5
THE FIRST DOOR
Matt pulled the Mustang into a several-acre parking lot, perhaps three-quarters filled with late-model cars and sports utility vehicles, and stopped in a space next to a van marked First Community Church on a side panel. A paved walkway led from the lot to a huge off-white ovular sac that stood in a grassy field. A portico protruded from a crease in the sac’s front, and a steeple stuck out through the top. White thunderheads loomed behind a cross at the steeple’s apex.
