At the same moment an enormous ball of blue, crackling fire swept down through the hold. Electric discharges flew from the ball, and its light showed the little group in startling detail. Sonya and Johnny stood back to back, each in a defensive stance, their form perfect. Their ninja opponents stood facing them, also in stance. Any icy fog lay about the feet of the ninja facing Sonya, while a serpent protruded from the hand of the ninja opposite Johnny.
The ball of blue lightning came smashing through the group. The two ninjas were tossed aside like bowling pins. They rolled, and were lost in the darkness, their black uniforms blending with the shadows. Johnny and Sonya remained standing, but a blue arc discharge played over their clothing. Sparks shot from the buckles on Sonya’s web gear. Miniature coronas played around Johnny’s fingers.
The blue ball stopped between Liu and the samurai. There it coalesced, changing as it did so into the shape of a frail old beggar man, coolie hat on his head, leaning on a wooden staff. For a moment the old man’s eyes glowed brightly with the blue electric light before they too faded.
At the same time the samurai changed back into the shape of the mandarin. They stood in contrast to one another, rags against silken finery, each regarding the man before him. It was the beggar with the staff who spoke first.
“Enough!” he said, his voice rolling like the thunder in the bills.
“You!” Liu exclaimed.
“Ah, Lord Rayden,” Shang Tsung said, smoothly. “How good of you to grace us with your presence.”
“Your sideshow freaks attracted my attention when they tried to attack my fighters,” Rayden said, his voice harsh and commanding. “That is expressly forbidden before the tournament begins, as both you and the emperor know well.”
Shang made a mocking half-bow to Rayden. “My apologies, my lord. It won’t happen again.”
“I shall see to that,” Rayden replied.
“Of course you will,” Shang said. “Until we reach the island. You have no dominion there.”
“My domains are well known to me, sorcerer,” Rayden said. “See that you stick to yours.”
By way of answer Shang bowed again, then turned to go back through the doorway from which he had emerged.
“Not so fast,” Sonya said, stepping forward and reaching out to grab his wrist. “What’s this about a tournament?”
“Ah, my child,” Shang said, plucking up her hand and removing it from his sleeve. “You have been chosen, Sonya. Much to my delight.”
He bowed again to the little group, then walked through the door.
Liu stood gazing at the beggar in a state of awe. “You really are him!”
“Who else should I be?” Rayden asked. Without pausing for answer, his body began to glow with blue electric light. It collapsed again into the ball of lightning.
“Come with me!” his voice commanded in tones of thunder. Then, without warning, the ball of lightning vanished, leaving a smell of ozone in its wake.
Johnny reached out his hand and waved it through where the ball of light had been.
“‘Come with me,’” he muttered. “Easy for him to say.”
Sonya whirled toward Liu. “Okay, talk,” she said. “Who is that guy? And who are you?”
“Who I am is the easy question,” Liu said. “My name is Liu Kang, and I’m the hereditary defender of the Order of Light.”
“That certainly makes everything clear,” Johnny said. “I’m along on this trip because it’s supposed to be good for my career. Why are you here?”
“I… I lost my faith,” Liu said.
“This is getting ridiculous fast,” Sonya said. “While you guys are playing Old Home Week, I have a job to do.”
She turned to go back forward. Instead of the door, however, the bulkhead was blank. She pounded on it with her fist. The echo was solid.
“Son of a bitch!” she swore in frustration.
“I bet that’s what your little boy calls himself all the time,” Johnny muttered. If she heard him, she didn’t react.
“I should have been defending the temple of Rayden,” Liu said. “Instead, I left my brother behind to take my place, and went to America.”
An uncomfortable silence followed, broken at last by Sonya. “Are you guys going to help me or just get in my way?”
“Might as well help,” Johnny said, glad of the change of topic. “Won’t be the first time I went with a pretty girl.”
Sonya’s lip twisted. “You know what the initials MCP stand for?”
“I have something else to do,” Liu said. “My brother died because I lost my faith.”
“My commanding officer, Major Briggs, would have something to say to you about blessed are they who have not seen but yet believe,” Sonya said. “I’m heading aft. You want to come?”
Liu shrugged. “When my god appears and says, ‘follow me,’ I don’t have a choice. I must follow him.”
“Maybe we’d do best by doing both,” Johnny said. “Stick together. Follow this Lord Rayden character, and look for this other dude, this – what was his name?”
“Kano,” Sonya said.
“Yeah, Kano – at the same time. I think that splitting our forces would be a bad idea.”
“Okay,” Liu said. “We team up.”
“Everybody’s a tactician,” Sonya said with resignation. “Right, then. We’re going topside. When we get there, we’re going to start searching the ship. We’ll find Rayden, we’ll find Rayden, we’ll find Kano, and we’ll find a way off of this floating dump. Assuming, of course, that the passageway is still there.”
She stalked past them, heading aft.
“Charming girl,” Johnny muttered, and turned to follow.
He kept his eyes moving right and left, watching the shadows. What he saw didn’t make him feel any better. Apparently the cargo of the Dragon Wing consisted entirely of human bones, baled and stacked in the hold from deck to overhead. And if that wasn’t enough, the memory of the snake-headed thing emerging from the ninja’s palm made him wish he had eyes on the back of his head.
The walk must have taken only a few minutes at most, but to Johnny it seemed like hours. The passageway was still there, but having walls on either side didn’t make him feel any better – it made him feel trapped. The three of them went up the ladder to the main deck, Sonya in the lead.
Once on deck, they stopped.
“Let’s talk this out,” Johnny said. He wasn’t feeling as trapped any more. “What’s our situation?”
“Underway, making way, out of sight of land,” Sonya said, scanning the horizon with her binoculars.
“No, I mean, I want to know how did that guy in the blue ball appear and vanish like that?”
“Think it through,” Sonya said. “There’s a rational explanation for everything.”
“He is Rayden,” Liu said. “God of Lightning and Protector of the Realm of Earth. Though I didn’t believe it until just a minute ago.”
“That sure is a real rational explanation,” Johnny said.
A pinpoint of light appeared before him. In an instant it expanded to a ball of electricity, then in a thunderclap that left Johnny’s ears ringing, it changed to Lord Rayden.
“You seek answers,” Rayden said, his voice reverberating like thunder. “Listen, and understand.”
Rayden turned his eyes on each of the three, one after the other. “The time for hesitation is past,” he said. “The time for petty quarrels is past. What you are about to face is vastly more important than” – he pointed to Johnny – “your ego!”
He pointed to Sonya. “Your enemy!”
He pointed to Liu. “Your doubts!”
Rayden paused, while electric arcs sprang from his body to the deck and his eyes glowed with the uncanny blue light.
“You have embarked on a sacred mission,” he said more quietly. “You have been chosen to defend the Realm of Earth in the tournament called Mortal Kombat!”
CHAPTER FIVE
With a rush of wind, the
fog broke apart into scattered wisps. Then it was gone entirely.
Jax looked at his watch. Only ten minutes had elapsed. He looked over the parapet of the warehouse roof. The pier was empty. The crowd of people was gone, as was the ship. And so was Lieutenant Blade.
He keyed the handset on his radio. “Cardinal, this is Black Hawk. Radio check. Over.”
No reply came from the radio.
“I’m sure not looking forward to writing the report on this one,” Jax muttered. He keyed the handset again, and began passing orders.
“Defend the earth?” Sonya asked. “Defend it from what?” She stood in front of Rayden, hands on hips, a defiant look on her face.
“Better you ask from whom,” Rayden said. “Your ‘Earth’ is but one of many parallel realms. One of them is a forsaken land called Outworld, ruled by an immortal who has crowned himself emperor. Over the centuries he has squeezed the good out of that unhappy place just as a man squeezes an orange. Now he seeks new worlds to conquer and new peoples to enslave.”
“If he’s so powerful,” Johnny said, “then why doesn’t he just invade us and get it over with?”
“To enter the Realm of Earth,” Rayden replied, “the emperor’s demon sorcerer Shang Tsung and his warriors must win ten straight victories in Mortal Kombat, against ten generations of the earth’s best fighters.”
The God of Lightning looked at each of the three as if appraising them before he continued.
“The tournaments have continued for five centuries. In that time the forces of the emperor have won nine victories. This will be the tenth – and final – tournament.”
Sonya looked at him with a challenging expression. “A handful of people in a leaky boat are going to save the world?”
“Exactly. The essence of Mortal Kombat isn’t death, but life. Mortal men and women must defend their own world.”
“I saw a lot of people boarding this ship,” Liu said. “Why are you telling this to us? What about them?”
“They are all superb fighters,” Rayden replied patiently, “but I have looked into their souls and futures – and into yours. You three will decide the outcome of the tournament. The fate of billions of people will depend upon you.”
“Good thing there’s no pressure here,” Johnny commented under his breath.
“But what about Shang Tsung?” Liu continued. “I saw him on board this ship, too. The demon sorcerer has a debt to pay to my family – and to me.”
“Are you still concerned with vengeance?” Rayden asked. “If you were to challenge Shang Tsung now, you would lose. You would lose both your life and your soul, and the Realm of Earth would be lost with you.”
The breeze freshened, stirring Rayden’s ragged clothing. The sails overheard snapped and strained with the win.
“He must pay for my brother’s death,” Liu insisted.
“You are not ready!”
The wind rose higher, until it was howling through the rigging with a ghostly wail. The ship heeled over sharply beneath the assault of the elements. Spray torn from the crests of waves hit Sonya on the face, salty and warm like blood.
“Look above you,” Rayden cried, his voice overmatching the wind. “It has begun!”
The sky burst into a roiling mass of color as the clouds tore apart. Streamers of light flashed above the mast-tops. The Dragon Wing pitched and rolled in the wild seas, while curtains of light in violet and red pulsed across the sky.
Johnny thought he could see pictures in the beams and rays of light: armies meeting in battle, swords rising and falling, men screaming in silent agony.
The pulsing colors grew more vivid. Liu saw the faces of beautiful women among the unearthly shapes above and saw those faces decay to reveal the grinning skulls beneath. He shut his eyes to hold out the horror.
Green and yellow traceries shot through the sky as the waves grew mountainous. The ship rose and fell, lifting on the crests, sliding into troughs, lurching with the motion. With a sound like thunder one of the sails gave way, tearing itself to shreds, the pieces whipped away into darkness.
As she looked at the blazing sky Sonya saw a spreading pool of blood, and in it she saw Lieutenant van Hoven lying in the alley. As she watched he arose, his severed throat spurting blood, and looked at her. Then he melted, changing before her eyes into the shape of Kano.
“I’ll get you!” Sonya shouted at the phantasm, high above her in the sky.
But the vision had not finished changing. It still floated and flowed, Kano’s form changing again into the shape of Shang Tsung, the sorcerer.
Sonya drew her eyes away. And there, high up in the rigging, a black shape against the blazing sky, she saw Shang Tsung himself. The wind streamed in his hair, his garments flowed around him in the win.
He lifted his arms to the sky. “Ha!” he cried. “It has begun!”
Pier Forty in Hong Kong was lit as bright as day by batteries of lamps mounted on trucks. The deep throb of a diesel generator mounted on the back of a deuce-and-a-half provided the power for the searchlights.
Jax stood on the pier, hands on his haps, watching as a squad of soldiers walked down the length of the dark stone quay, shoulder-width apart, scanning the ground in front of them. One of the soldiers stopped and raised his hand. The rest of the line stopped with him. Jax trotted over.
“What do you have, corporal?”
The trooper pointed. An amulet, perhaps three inches across, lay in the mud. The amulet’s top was clean; it hadn’t been there long.
“Good work,” Jax said, and bent to pick it up. The amulet was a circle of fired clay, open in the center, with the figure of a dragon writhing inside the open ring. It looked old.
“I wonder what this could be?” Jax mused, fingering the object, turning it over front and back. He called over the radio operator.
“Get in touch with HQ,” he said. “Have them coordinate with the Hong Kong police. Someone must have noticed a major concentration of plug-uglies over the last few days. I’d like a list of unsolved deaths for the past week. And I’d like the name of the number-one expert on the symbols used by various tournaments. Especially,” he turned the amulet over again, “the ones who use dragons.”
The wind had died. The sea was calm and unruffled, a silver mirror that stretched out to the horizon. Dragon Wing lay at anchor in a calm bay under a tropical blue sky. The ship’s sails hung limp from the yards. Its keel was steady in the ocean.
Longboats were pulling away from the Dragon Wing and heading for the white sand beach of a tropical island. Each boat held half a dozen fighters destined to try their strength and skill in the tournament.
Liu Kang sat near the bow of one boat, looking at the approaching island. Above the beach, tall basalt cliffs rose high into the air. They towered what seemed to be thousands of feet straight up into a thick layer of cloud that hovered around the place. Higher still, the basalt spire emerged again from the clouds. The summit was covered with lush green vegetation and held the ruins of an ancient temple. The white marble of the temple gleamed in the first rays of dawn.
Liu saw what appeared to be a stairway carved into the cliff. The fighters who had already landed were heading to it, and more were on the stairs, their clothing forming moving spots of color up the face of the cliff until they were lost in the distance and the clouds.
Farther back in the boat Johnny sat on his four remaining pieces of luggage. He stared mostly at the toes of his hand-made shoes. He wasn’t feeling particularly perky. This trip wasn’t turning out anything like what he’d expected, and he wasn’t enjoying it much.
Sonya sat beside Johnny. She had taken her uplink phone from her pack, deployed its miniature satellite dish, and was trying to raise her base.
“Black Hawk, this is Cardinal, radio check, over,” Sonya said, speaking slowly and distinctly. She paused, listening, then tried again. “Black Hawk, this is Cardinal, radio check, over.” A longer pause, listening, brought nothing, not even the warbling whine of a carrier
wave. “Black Hawk, this is Cardinal, nothing heard, out.”
She flipped a switch on the side of the phone and tried again. “Black Hawk, this is Cardinal–”
“Hey, babe, while you’re at it, see if you can get my agent on the phone,” Johnny said.
Sonya didn’t bother looking over at him. “Do I look like your secretary?”
“It was a joke.”
“So are you,” Sonya said. She twisted a dial on the side of the phone. “What’s the matter?” she said a moment later. “No snappy comeback when you don’t have a script?”
The boat beached, its keel crunching against the sand. Sonya put one hand on the gunwale and jumped over the side, landing in knee-deep water. She waded ashore, not bothering to look back. Once on the dry sand she tried the uplink phone again.
“Any station this net, any station this net, this is Cardinal. I transmit in the blind, I transmit in the clear. Request you relay to Black Hawk, Cardinal requires dustoff. I say again Cardinal requires dustoff. Out.”
“What are you doing?” Liu asked, coming up beside her over the soft sand, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder.
“Trying to contact the good guys,” Sonya said, eyeing the phone critically. “Not having much luck, though. My guess is your pal fried all the microchips when he did his ball-of-lightning routine last night.”
“Your radio is fine,” Liu said. “Look at your compass.”
“Okay.”
Sonya flipped up the cover on her wrist compass. The needle was swinging with a jerky motion, fixing first in one direction, then in another.
“Where the hell am I?” Sonya said, quietly, as the compass pointed toward the rising sun.
“Who do I look like, your travel agent?” Johnny said, walking up behind the two others.
Sonya gave him a withering glare, then stalked off, not saying a word. Liu remained behind with Johnny.
“All right,” Johnny said at last. “I give up. What’s going on?”
“What if,” Liu began, picking his words carefully, “all the legends were true?”
Mortal Kombat: The Movie Page 5
