Perhaps it is time to channel some of that power to a purpose. Shen Xue paused in an empty corridor and “pulled” Jade Emperor’s Whisper from the place in reality where it rested in the times he had no need of it. He directed his will at it. We must have this creature, the continuation of the world may require it, he told it sternly. You will hide me from it. He felt the sword’s assent; the sword was more than a simple tool to beat things into submission. It was an entity almost on its own, with moods and wishes that needed to be appeased. Satisfied, he put it “back,” and continued on his way. Time to find a quiet place to study the information Verdigris had provided; after all, there was the off chance that it might prove to be worth something.
And more than time to get out of this damned suit and all the hellish feminine contraptions that went with it. It was days like these that Shen Xue wished fervently for a return to ancient China. Perhaps we can make what was ancient new again…one day.
* * *
The moment was too important for the Seraphym to chance interruption. So; no going to her perch among the arches and pillars of her rooftop lookout, nor the top of John Murdock’s building. The best place to sit and sift through the threads of the futures was the old, mostly deserted cemetery. It was a weekday, the caretaker was taking his nap, there were never any visitors during the week, and this was a spot where there were no living to left to visit the dead. In fact, if she chose—and she did—she could create the illusion that she was just one more angel-statue among the many, one kneeling with downcast eyes and folded hands. It was one of the least involved illusions she could invoke in the minds of those around her. She simply willed it, and it was so.
As she concentrated, the threads of the future played out in front of her, flooding her mind with possibility.
The Djinni had accepted responsibility. He had sacrificed his own self-interest for the sake of the greater good. He had accepted that his future would be subject to pain, loneliness…but that this would all mean something profoundly important to the outcome of the war. This had taken him out of the realm of those who did not matter against the Thulians, and put him in the ranks of those who did. He was a new, brighter thread added to the tapestry, and he must be sorted into it.
Bella had found her rock in the form of the aptly-named Bulwark. She would cease to need Sera and could continue her growth on her own. Bulwark would keep her steady, and become part of her moral and ethical compass. That must be sorted. And if she had to make that terrible and morally ambiguous decision, she had someone to steer her back from it. That greatly changed the patterns.
And…John Murdock. That…situation…both excited her and made her uneasy. It grew more personal with every encounter. And she was supposed, or so she thought, to remain impersonal. But the Infinite had registered no disapproval of this. In fact, the Infinite appeared to register tacit approval. And certainly, as the bond between them grew more familiar, Murdock pulled back from his former distance from the rest of humanity and joined more fully into life around him, became more committed, made more connections. Each time he did, it changed the futures, ever so slightly, for the better.
And yet…this was so dangerous. It opened her in ways she didn’t understand, to emotions…the Siblings did not experience emotion directly, only indirectly, through the memories and experiences of mortals. This was new, and a new thing such as this, after her long, long life…was unprecedented.
But she shook her head to clear it of the thought of John Murdock. This was not the time for such thoughts, for there was another subject of more urgency than that. Ramona Ferrari was on a collision course with Verdigris, and there were many ways that this could end. This, at the moment, was one of the sections of the futures that most concerned the Seraphym, for the threads here were terribly, terribly tangled. The Seraphym bent her mind to them, concentrating on these things to the exclusion of all else. Even looking at them, changed them, or had the potential to change them. This was a critical juncture.
Her concentration was interrupted by a lithe figure dressed in red and black silk sliding over the outer wall of the cemetery, silent and graceful as a cat. The figure regarded her cooly, her face serene and her eyes calculating. Sera recognized the figure, of course. The shell was Red Saviour’s oldest friend, Fei Li, otherwise known as People’s Blade. But there were two inside the shell. Fei Li herself was sleeping, encysted, refusing to come out into a world that had turned so unrecognizable, and kept enclosed by the dominant entity—the one now in total control of the shell. That was the great General Shen Xue, a most ancient soul, who had, until the reversal, resided in the equally ancient sword Jade Emperor’s Whisper, to which his immortal soul had been confined for crimes of monumental cruelty and hubris. He had, until Fei Li’s moment of crisis, been content to expiate those crimes by serving as Fei Li’s mentor in all things martial.
Not anymore, it seemed. Fei Li’s fall had become Shen Xue’s window into the modern world, with a new body.
“You are not as hard to find as I would have thought, sorceress.” Shen Xue spoke quietly, but never took her eyes off of Sera.
“Seek, and ye shall find,” the Seraphym replied, dryly, speaking in perfectly accented, and quite ancient, Qin. But it was strange that until this moment, she had not been aware of the General’s presence…
Hmm. Now this was odd. Shen Xue was “absent” from the futures—like John Murdock, he was a blankness, but it was not the same sort of blankness. This was not caused by the Infinite. John Murdock was a blank, but his life intersected with virtually all of those who were important to the futures—Bella, Victrix, Red Saviour, even the Djinni, Bulwark, Ramona, and those with whom he had no obvious direct connection. Even Verdigris. Shen Xue intersected only with those who were important, but…dangerous. Unethical. Even sociopathic.
What could that mean?
Shen Xue paused mid stride for a moment before she continued, weaving through the gravestones and circling Sera. “You have something I need,” she continued in slightly accented English. “Something that the world needs. Will you give this thing to me? Or will I have to take it?” She stopped in front of Sera, her hands folded behind her back. Shen Xue cocked her head to the side, waiting for a response.
“It depends entirely on what you believe that I ‘have,’” the Seraphym replied. “Considering that I own no possessions.”
Shen Xue moved her left hand in front of her face, waggling a finger back and forth. “No. We own many things, beyond the material. Our minds, our thoughts, and our…abilities. No one can lay claim to a swordmaker’s skill, though they can bend it to their will. No one can own an athlete’s prowess, but they can persuade him to compete for the glory of a nation.” She leaned forward slightly, canting her head towards Sera. “No one can own the future…but you.”
“I do not own the future. That is in the hands of mortals.” The Seraphym shook her head. “You labor beneath a misapprehension. It is not permitted that I direct the futures as a general directs his armies.”
“I do not need you to steer the course of history, sorceress. I can do that perfectly well, for I am a general. I simply need you to tell me where and when to best swing my sword to defeat the Thulians and…other threats.” Shen Xue regarded a gravestone in front of her, running a finger softly over it before looking back to Sera.
The Seraphym smiled sadly. “You do not require me for that. Find the source of the Thulians’ power, and remove it.”
“You mistake me. I am not asking for your permission. A good general marshals all of his assets and strengths before battle. You will come into my service. This is the nature of things.”
So that was the way the wind blew. “It is not permitted,” the Seraphym said steadily. “I already serve another.”
Shen Xue sighed heavily, looking down at the grave dirt beneath her feet. “We all serve many masters, sorceress. Of our choosing, and others through necessity.”
“Not I,” the Seraphym replied. “I serve only the In
finite. You are not the first to want me as a servant. You must go on wanting.”
Shen Xue looked up sharply from the ground. “So.” Without another word, she charged Sera, sprinting as fast as a top Olympic athlete. The General, seemingly from nowhere, pulled Jade Emperor’s Whisper from behind her back, leveling it at Sera.
But the Seraphym, old in battle, was not taken by surprise. Her own fiery blade sprang to life in her hand as her fires blazed up around her. She moved as lithe as flame, stepping lightly aside and parrying Jade Emperor’s Whisper in a way that left the General unbalanced for a moment. The General quickly spun around, bringing her sword up in a one-handed grip, circling with Sera.
“The wise man does not shout defiance into the tempest,” said the Seraphym, “but accepts the inevitable with grace.” She followed the General’s movements without seeming to. Shen Xue now discovered that facing a creature who had no pupils to her eyes was disconcerting. It was not possible to read such blankness; an opponent’s eyes were usually telling of many things. Not so with this one. Shen Xue continued with her flurry, launching attacks high and low, each of which was countered with what seemed thoughtless grace. “Does the butterfly spar with the dragon? Does the wren seek to drive the eagle from her nest to claim it? What is it that you can possibly expect to get from me?”
Shen Xue lunged with her sword, aiming for Sera’s throat. “One must persevere to accomplish impossible tasks.” She followed with another barrage of strikes, ducking and weaving and even leaping off of gravestones in almost impossible but perfect acrobatic moves, only to be perfectly countered each time.
“Why not put the same effort into pursuing the Thulians?” the Seraphym asked. “Others are doing the same. You could accomplish far more. As I told you: find the head of this serpent and strike it off.”
“Half measures,” Shen Xue grunted as she readied her sword again, “will never win wars. Others are not willing to do what needs to be done. Few are. With you at my side, I will be able to do what is necessary to defeat the Thulians, and all other threats.” She renewed her assault, with cuts coming from as many angles as she could manage, faster than probably any mortal swordsman alive.
And for the first time in her unnumbered millenia, Seraphym’s sword of flame had not instantly destroyed a mortal weapon. She Looked at the sword that Shen Xue wielded, and instantly knew why. Because it was not a mortal weapon. Improbably enough, Jade Emperor’s Whisper was not forged by mortal hands, but by the hands of those who were, if not Siblings, certainly not subject to the same limitations as mortals.
“And how would you know I was telling you the truth and not something designed to send you to your death?” she replied, serenely, although…beneath, she was anything but serene. She was afraid. Something was going on, far from here. She sensed that in this same moment as her battle with the General, John Murdock faced an equal enemy for, perhaps, the first time in his life. He was hurt. He was in danger. She had not foreseen this, and she could not be there and here. Yet she could not leave here to come to his aid while the situation with Shen Xue was so uncertain.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, as if her momentary thought of him had pulled all her intention towards John Murdock, she felt his powers falter, and the earth became unsteady beneath her feet. Her thoughts went blank for a fraction of a second.
Shen Xue seized upon the moment. The flow of her attack abruptly changed, and she sliced downwards viciously, scoring Sera’s left wing, as Sera belatedly reacted and pulled it partly out of reach.
As with the attacks by the Thulians that had touched her, the key was that she did not allow the pain to matter. But it was agony, and whiter, blinding flame followed the line of Jade Emperor’s Whisper down the inner face of her wing. Even Shen Xue shaded his eyes and flinched from the light for a moment, as the Seraphym’s true nature showed through the cut.
She healed it without a thought. But it took more time to heal than the wounds caused by the titanic mortal weapons of the Thulians, things that disintegrated mere matter in a nanosecond. Jade Emperor’s Whisper could hurt her.
Time to finish this.
She went on the offensive for the first time, her sword engaging with Jade Emperor’s Whisper and binding it. “Enough,” she said, allowing a touch of anger into her voice. “This has gone far enough, and I have wasted enough time here.”” She sensed the celestial blade recoiling from her own, and from her anger. With a flick of the wrist, she wrested Shen Xue’s sword from the General’s grip and sent it flying into the shaggy, unkempt bushes. “Trouble me no more with your concerns. I have told you I serve only the Infinite. You are a tactician. Find another solution to your problems.”
And with that, she turned her back contemptuously, and flew off.
Shen Xue could only stare for a few moments, breathless. It had been the hardest battle he had ever fought, and one of the few without clear victory. Pausing for a few moments to reflect on the fight, he collected his sword, replacing it in the “nowhere” place between space and time, and left the cemetery.
This task would require quite a different approach.
* * *
Verdigris was trying desperately to clear his head. Things could have been going better as far as his plans went, but a day at the track always seemed to set him to rights. Through a few minor called in favors and discreet words, he had gained the opportunity to test drive the new prototype Bugatti Veyron Super Sport, earlier than most. It wasn’t even a full production car yet, just a camera-ready test mule, primped and prettied for the reviewers later this month. That didn’t stop him from putting it through its paces; Dominic was an expert driver, and loved nothing more than to take one of the supercars from his garage or an experimental design that he’d come up with out on the track.
Usually that was good for clearing out the cobwebs. These beasts, with their twitchy handling and crazy speeds, required an enormous amount of his own attention. After he finished thoroughly wringing the car out at close to its maximum performance for an hour and a half he pulled into the pit station near the starting line. A crew of mechanics and technicians ran over immediately, wasting only a few moments to shower him with praises for his performance before they began to inspect and do a tear down on critical components for the Bugatti. Behind the barrier for the entrance to the track Shen Xue was standing, arms crossed. Verdigris smiled broadly as he walked towards her, peeling off his racing suit. “Fascinating machine, isn’t it?”
“A diversion for those that should be spending their time on more pertinent pursuits, brute.”
“Too much work and no play isn’t good for the mind or the body, General.” He picked up a water bottle emblazoned with the ECHO logo off of a nearby table, taking a swig from it. “So, what news do you have? Made any progress with our recaltricant friend with the wings?”
“It depends on what you would refer to as progress.” Shen Xue steepled her fingers. “I am certain of what she is now, regardless of your stubborn disbelief. It will require an extraordinary effort and some extraordinary equipment to capture her, but I believe it can be done.”
Verdigris frowned. “Tell me that you don’t honestly believe that she’s an angel.” He toweled his face off with a terry cloth hand towel that had Blacksnake’s crest sewn onto it. He sighed heavily. “I took you for a more rational individual, General.”
“What you take for rationality, I take for stubborn refusal to accept what is fact,” Shen told him with undisguised contempt. “She is celestial in origin. As is my…” She shook her head. “Never mind. The point is, your insistence on referring to a spade as a hammer does not make it suited to drive nails.”
“What a quaint little saying. Whatever. I care about results, General, the same as you; it’s why you’re in my employ, after all.” He set down the towel before leveling her with a stare. “Can you deliver, or should I find someone else that can?”
“That will depend on your ability to acquire the tools I will need.” The General narrowed h
er eyes. “They are precise, they are absolutely required, and they must be exactly what I ask for. No substitutes will do.”
He waved his hand, smiling again. “Of course. Money is no object where this project is concerned, General. That just leaves one final question.”
“Which is?” Shen Xue looked suddenly wary for a moment.
“Do you take cash, or will a check do?”
* * *
John was on the roof of the building that held his private space. He called it a “squat,” presumably because he was squatting there without permission. Their conversation had been interrupted on the roof of the CCCP headquarters, and Sera was anxious to resume it.
“Anxious.” That was new for her. Like so many other emotions. She had never suffered anxiety before. It was as if mortal emotions were infectious, a virus she could somehow contract. Anxiety…fear…
There had been a moment of fear when Shen Xue had hurt her. Pain, she was used to, at least in the form of the all-obliterating weapons that the Thulians used. She was fully prepared for pain, secure in the knowledge that she could renew herself as fast as they could tear at her.
But what Jade Emperor’s Whisper had done had not been so easy to remedy. The sword had the potential to cripple her in a way not even the Thulian weapons did. Of course, all she needed to do was be aware of that, and take steps accordingly, but…she had not known such a thing was even possible until now, and that made her afraid, if only momentarily.
John saw her coming, as she intended. He waved; she took that as invitation and touched down.
“Welcome back, Sera. Thought my sturdy Russian comrades might’ve scared you off for good last time.”
She smiled a little at that. “I am not sure that Untermensch would even be able to see me. Best he not see you speaking to the empty air.” She spoke aloud, carefully confining her “voice” to ears alone. She knew that John preferred that as opposed to mental communication.
Revolution: Book Three of the Secret World Chronicle - eARC Page 40
