The Champion

by Taran Matharu

  “Who are these guys, Codex?” Cade asked.

  “Remnants are the remains of four members of SEAL Team Six from 1983. They were on a failed regime-change mission, Operation Urgent Fury, following a communist revolution in Grenada. They were last seen when their transport plane veered off course in a storm and they parachuted into the ocean. Overloaded with equipment, they were assumed drowned—their bodies were never recovered.”

  Cade sighed and sat back on his haunches.

  Amber wiped at her face, then settled on the floor beside him. “So what now?” she asked.

  Cade bit his lip and stared around the room. By now, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the worst of the dust had settled. Beyond the plain, stone-carved coffin, the only features were six enormous metal doors at equal intervals around the room.

  “Abaddon left these guys here as a reward for whoever ventured this deep into the tomb,” Cade said. “There might be more beyond those doors. We just have to pick one and hope we find something that can help us defeat the slavers.”

  He motioned at the six metal doors. It seemed Abaddon had been doing some construction of his own, for they were uniform and plain.

  A string of curses erupted from behind him, and Cade turned to see Atticus being lifted to his feet. His head was bloodied, and his eyes were wild with anger.

  “You had that weapon the whole time?” he demanded.

  Cade held up his hands, too tired to get to his feet. “I found the explosive on a body. And this,” he said, lifting the gun. “How many bullets does this kind of gun hold, Codex?”

  The Codex responded once it had finished translating his words. “Remnant is a Sig Sauer P226 produced in 1980. It holds ten 9mm rounds.”

  Cade held it like it was a snake. He had handled weapons aplenty since he had arrived on Acies, but never a gun. The weapon felt … wrong. To hold so much power in something so small. To be able to point it at someone and just … end them.

  An involuntary shudder ran through him, but he kept his grip on the gun, finding the small nub on its side and clicking it through to the other side to release the safety. That was why he had not fired it before.

  After a moment’s pause, he clicked it back. Better safe than sorry.

  “Ten what?” Atticus asked.

  Cade considered the question. “Think of them like small metal arrows, but far more accurate and powerful. They can go through just about any kind of armor. You simply point … and pull the trigger.”

  He demonstrated, miming the act of firing a gun.

  Atticus waited for the translation, then muttered a curse under his breath.

  “Not enough to even the odds,” he growled.

  Cade shrugged. “They don’t know we only have ten bullets,” he said. “It might encourage them to back off.”

  Atticus inclined his head. “Fine,” he said. “But whether they tunnel in or we tunnel out, our mission is not complete. Your … Sigsore is not going to win us another round. What do you propose we do now?”

  Cade motioned to the doors with his free hand.

  “We go deeper,” he said.

  CHAPTER

  48

  Behind the doors, each entrance was different, most a simple stairway into the ground or a mausoleum-style entrance complete with a stone plaque blocking the way. The Codex confirmed what each one was.

  They split into three teams of one or two of his friends with a handful of Romans. Cade was loath to separate, but he knew they were running out of time.

  Already, he could hear the sounds of the slavers working to clear the blocked passage behind them. As they gathered outside their respective tombs, Cade considered his choices, recalling the research he had done the night before the expedition.

  Boudicca, the queen of the Icini who had slaughtered so many Romans in her British rebellion, was for Scott’s crew. It was Quintus who was most curious about her burial place, for she had a history with his legion, having virtually destroyed it in the Battle of Camulodunum some fifty years before Quintus had joined it. Cade had no doubt her tomb would be small, and Quintus could swiftly gather what treasures he could before moving on to the next.

  Alexander the Great was left for later, for Cade knew his burial place had been moved several times before its location was forgotten, making it unlikely any of the original valuables were still there. In fact, Cleopatra, occupant of the tomb directly next to it, had pillaged his tomb to fund her war several hundred years later, and four Roman emperors had raided it for valuables too. No, there would be nothing left there.

  Antony and Cleopatra’s tomb had been built by Octavian, the man who had defeated her, and though he would have been respectful, it was doubtful he would let it be filled with valuables. But Cade had Amber go in anyway, for one reason alone: Cleopatra was Caesarion’s mother. The emperor of New Rome had questioned Cade on his own history, and Cade knew it was likely something the man obsessed over. Possession of his mother’s body was a bargaining chip he could not pass up, should they come to a confrontation with the slavers once more.

  That left Cade a choice: Genghis Khan, Attila the Hun, or Atahuallpa.

  Atahuallpa was the last emperor of the Incas, a civilization legendary for their wealth and known for burying their mummified dead with their possessions to take with them into the afterlife.

  Cade had been excited at first, as the Codex had told him Atahuallpa had paid a ransom to conquistadors by filling his prison cell with gold and another two with silver to secure his release. Enough to summon a legion of Cade’s own, had he wished to.

  But sadly, his tomb was easy to dismiss, for the conquistadors had baptized, garrotted, and burned him anyway, and then given him a Christian burial. No gold or jewels to be had there.

  That left the two famous emperors of the steppes. Men who had conquered most of Europe in their times, though they had lived seven centuries apart.

  But there was no doubt in Cade’s mind which would bear the most fruit. Genghis Khan. A man so virile, one percent of the world’s population was descended from him. He was the ruler of the largest empire that the world ever saw, one that would stretch from the Sea of Japan to Poland and contained over a quarter of the world’s population—having killed one tenth of it to conquer them. He was responsible for more deaths than Hitler and Stalin combined. The planet had literally cooled after he was done killing.

  His burial had been so secret that an army had slaughtered anyone they saw on their journey to the tomb, as well as the two thousand servants who helped bury him. They rode a thousand horses over his final resting place to trample the earth and even diverted a river over its top. That first army had then been ambushed by another to silence them, and legend told the second army had died by suicide after that battle, so that no man alive would know its location.

  So Cade assumed it was a safe bet there was something worth hiding there. Attila’s could wait.

  A crash of stone on stone pulled Cade from his thoughts, and he hurried over to view the open sarcophagus’s contents. To his disappointment, there was only a mummy within, bereft of jewelry of any kind. There was, however, a cleaner patch of cloth, the outline of where a pendant had once sat upon the man’s chest.

  “Worthless,” Atticus spat.

  Cade was disappointed but not surprised. “I bet this place was robbed before Abaddon transported it here,” Cade said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Damn,” Amber said. “Let’s hope the others haven’t been robbed too.”

  “What, you mean these places were dug up in the past to rob them?” Scott asked.

  Cade nodded. “Mostly around the same time they were built, but there was a lot of tomb robbing by Europeans in the past few centuries too. You know why there are so few intact mummies around?”

  Scott shook his head.

  “Because Europeans used to eat them all. For medicine, aphrodisiacs. You know, people were still eating mummies in the roaring twenties.”

  Scott looked dow
n at the mummy and retched.

  “And on that lovely note, shall we get on with it?” Amber asked.

  Cade turned and gripped his torch. “All right,” he said, staring into the dark confines of Genghis’s tomb. “Let’s raid some tombs.”

  CHAPTER

  49

  Cade was the first to enter Genghis’s tomb, torch held in one hand, gun in the other.

  He was the first person to enter this place in centuries, and it still amazed him that it was possible. To walk where men had walked so long before. To see the lost grave of a man who had shaped the history of the world.

  What took him by surprise was the simplicity of the room he had entered. It was a round antechamber with yellowing white walls.

  Paintings, peeling though they were, were layered over the top of the walls, inscribed directly onto the crumbling plaster. Yet despite their apparent age, the colors remained vivid.

  They were Chinese in style, and this was no surprise to Cade. The Mongols had pillaged China, such that even the poorest Mongol was clothed in silk and Chinese finery. The best minds of China had been put to work for the empire, acting as their engineers, scientists, academics, and administrators. It was likely skilled Chinese slaves who had built this place.

  As Cade lifted his torch higher, he saw they were in a domed room, not unlike the roof of a Mongol-style tent. And beneath him … was gold.

  Great earthen pots of it, heaped in piles of coins. Glittering jewels filled others, and weaponry lay along the walls, propped like garden tools in an old shed. Bows, swords, lances—it was a veritable armory.

  Stranger still were the bodies. Twelve in all, six on either side. They were not mummified; rather they were each seated on a throne, resplendent in feminine, multilayered garb. Skulls leered at Cade from these seats, in stark contrast to the beauty of their robes.

  “Wives and concubines,” Cade said. “Buried with him. You have to hope they had already died from natural causes when they were left here … but somehow I doubt it.”

  “And his horse,” Amber said, standing beside him.

  Indeed, the full skeleton of a horse was laid out in battle armor at the foot of a large coffin. The coffin was finely carved from wood, covered in engravings of horses and war.

  There was more to be seen—fine statues carved from jade, bundles of rich cloth, and fine china and crockery piled haphazardly throughout the room.

  Cade could hardly imagine the loyalty one must have needed to lock away so many riches, knowing they would never be used or seen again. Genghis, even in death, exerted complete control of his people.

  Legionaries piled in behind Cade, wandering through the riches with awe upon their faces.

  “What do we do with it?” Atticus asked. “Even this is too much to carry back with us.”

  Cade rubbed his eyes, then handed the torch to the nearest legionary. “I need to speak with Abaddon.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then: “Fine. We shall check on the others.”

  Cade waited until the Romans had left the room. He sat upon the stairs down into the chamber and laid the gun beside him. He waited for the footsteps to recede, then spoke.

  “Well? I know you’re watching.”

  The little girl poked her head out from behind the coffin, a simpering smile stamped across her features. “I see you have been busy.”

  Cade grunted in acknowledgment.

  She skipped closer, though her feet left no impression on the sandy floor. “I assume you wish to barter?”

  “I want to know how it works first,” Cade said, gesturing at the treasures in the room. “What’s this worth to us?”

  “It depends.” The girl giggled. “Are you beside the treasure, or far away from it? Is the remnant you wish to purchase one that has already been discovered, or is it one yet to be released onto Acies?”

  Cade rubbed his eyes again. For the past few hours, he had given up on ever getting the bomb to the keep. Now, suddenly, it was back on the table.

  “How much to transport the nuclear bomb to the keep?” Cade asked.

  Abaddon wagged the girl’s finger. “Not so fast, my eager little friend. You must transport the whole remnant—no picking and choosing. The plane comes too, and for that, you’ll have to pay.”

  Cade said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

  “Let me see,” she said after a reproachful tut at Cade’s silence. “You’ve already discovered the bomb after all, so it will cost you less. But … well … what good is it to you, Cade? I say this as your greatest supporter, you understand.”

  Cade let out a bitter laugh, hoping it would mask the sudden increase in his heart rate. “I’d say the greatest weapon known to man is worth something.”

  Abaddon pouted and took a ghostly seat atop the lap of the nearest mummy. “Well, it’s not much good if you can’t set it off remotely. I thought you were smarter than this, Cade.”

  The girl’s voice was sweet, but it belied an air of suspicion beneath the surface.

  “I thought maybe we could put it on top of a pyre of wood, light a fuse, and run for it,” Cade said, shrugging. “But I didn’t plan on using it in an attack. Only in defense.”

  “Oh?” Abaddon asked.

  “Let’s say some alien race attacks us and we’re down to the last man. The keep is about to be taken over. So we set off the nuke and blow everything to hell. Any enemies would be wiped out along with us. Call it a deterrent.”

  The little girl clapped her hands and giggled. “Oh, very clever. But wrong. Very wrong. These bombs are not set off by fire and are not live unless a complex series of triggers are set off electronically. Lucky for you, I am willing to provide you with a remote detonator. One with a timer. For a price.”

  Cade knew he did not need the timer. Knew he would set off the bomb while he was standing right next to it, using the Gray’s toy. But Abaddon didn’t know that. Logically, he needed to barter for this detonator.

  “What’s your price?” Cade asked.

  “Well, you find yourself in quite a predicament,” Abaddon said, gesturing behind him. “Slavers, dinosaurs, and mummies, oh my!”

  Cade shrugged. “I have my gun,” he said, brandishing the pistol. “And a plan.”

  The little girl rolled her eyes as Cade laid the gun beside him. “I’ll make you an offer,” she said. “All the treasures in the tomb for the plane and its bomb, the remote detonator, and instant teleportation for your soldiers and anything they can carry back to the keep. I need you there soon anyway for the next round.”

  “Done,” Cade said.

  Abaddon wagged a pudgy finger. “Not so fast!” she said. “This deal requires all the treasure to be left in one place. Every gem, every coin, every trinket. Bring it all here, to this room.”

  Cade thought for a moment, then nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “Deal.”

  Abaddon’s avatar receded into the gloom.

  “Be quick, Cade,” the girl whispered. “And … good luck with that.”

  She pointed, and Cade spun.

  And saw the pistol, aimed at his face.

  CHAPTER

  50

  “What are you doing, Atticus?” Cade whispered.

  The man held the gun awkwardly, with one hand on the grip, the other slotting its fingers into the trigger guard. But it was pointed right at Cade.

  “Killing you,” he hissed back.

  The Codex translated his words in the silence, its strange, monotone voice echoing through the chamber.

  “That gun will make a loud noise,” Cade said. “Like the cannons. My friends will come running.”

  Atticus grinned. “I’m counting on it. I can deal with them too.”

  “Wasting four bullets, and four fighters,” Cade said, shaking his head. “You’re dumber than I thought.”

  Atticus chuckled and took a step closer. “I don’t need either. I am sure that this Abaddon will strike the same deal with me—I heard everything. And with you out o
f the way, I will get all the credit. And with this … gun, Marius’s reign will be over before it has even begun.”

  “I thought you were different, Atticus.” Cade shook his head. “You had me fooled.”

  Atticus cocked his head to the side. “It’s nothing personal. I am simply a pragmatic man.” He chuckled. “Well, I confess to taking some pleasure in this act. But I have also misjudged you. Even in the face of death, you are as calm as any man I’ve seen. Perhaps you would have amounted to something someday. A shame.”

  “Last chance,” Cade said, pulling his blade free from its scabbard on his shoulder.

  Atticus laughed. “Goodbye, Cade.”

  He pulled the trigger.

  But the only sound was Cade’s blade as it thrummed through the air, taking Atticus through the throat. The gun clattered to the ground, and Cade released his sword as it stuck the man. Atticus staggered back, clutching at the blade. Cade snatched up the pistol, disgusted by it.

  Only a weapon like this would have tempted betrayal. There was something insidious in its power.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Cade said. “We were so close to … so close.”

  The man only stared at him as he backed into the wall, his eyes wide with shock.

  Cade turned the gun sideways and clicked back the safety catch. He had seen it was on when he’d tried to fire the gun earlier. When he struck with his blade, he’d only hoped the gun would not fire. But he hadn’t been sure until now.

  Atticus sank slowly to the ground, his attempts to speak blocked by the blade in his gullet.

  Cade told himself that Atticus deserved this.

  He had threatened his friends. Threatened Amber.

  Cade lifted the pistol, pointing it at Atticus’s chest. Then he lowered it and yanked the blade free in a spray of blood.

  “I won’t waste a bullet on you,” he said, averting his eyes.

  The man gurgled, clutching at his throat, even as blood poured between his fingers. As Atticus’s life twitched away, Cade turned his back, unable to watch.