Forging Truth (The Truth Saga)

by Raymond Masters

  “Your father, Mao … the thing is … Julinn’s alive.” There was confidence in what he said, if not sincerity. “Let me go, hand over your weapon to my men, and I will summon him. For I tell you, he is here, today, fighting amongst my ranks.”

  “Shut up,” she cried. “I don’t believe you!” In her anger, she and her hostage began to flicker.

  “Mao,” I warned, “You’re strobing.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Kade, I’ve got the trigger on him.”

  “Don’t you think I took that into consideration before I – hrnh – before I made such a bold statement. Do as I say: release me. Hand over the weapon. I assure you and your father will be reunited within the minute.”

  Her flickering intensified. I hated to add to her agitation, especially after such a turn of events. Nevertheless, I had to do something for Caduceus. “Mao,” I said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Ducie’s getting his butt handed to him in a paper bag.”

  “Is my father alive, Kade?”

  “Mao,” I stalled, unsure of what she wanted to hear.

  “He is.” It was Bishop. “But you’ll never see him, girlie-girl, I assure you.”

  “Bishop! That’s enough. I promise these men will do nothing to stop what I set in motion. I give my word.”

  Behind us, Caduceus howled as his attackers continued to work him over.

  “Yes,” Mao whispered. “Call him. Do it.” Released from her grasp, Van Parson stumbled forward, visible again. Talmage held out a beefy palm while Bishop continued to train his gauntleted fist on Mao. Van Parson shoved his lawyer to one side as his bodyguard tossed her pistol away.

  Another agonized scream. Frantic now, I looked over my shoulder and saw Caduceus on his knees. His strength was fading, and he was quite obviously being supported upright by a duo of demons. Before him, Aesculapus stood, lecturing. Finally, he knelt to whisper something into the cusp of his beaten brother’s ear. Though I couldn’t make out the words at this distance, I knew what was being said: This is it, dear brother; this is your end. He placed his palms flat to either side of Caduceus’ head like bookends. With a grimace, Aesculapus sent an electric arch between his hands, and the deed was done. Something so final, reduced to the cold bluntness of a damnable will.

  “Mao,” I pleaded. “Mao, Caduceus is down! He’s hurt, maybe worse!” I was screaming, nearly incomprehensible.

  “Kade,” she said. “What’re you …” Then she understood, and her face contorted in pain.

  “I’m going,” I said, becoming sky-bound. “Don’t trust them,” I said, as I jetted toward a final confrontation with the evil Dark Monk.

  Halfway to where my friend waited facedown and motionless, something suddenly came out of nowhere to land dead center of my flight path. My first thought was I was being ambushed, I would have to fight through a series of both demons and Van Parson’s foot soldiers; this had all been a setup from the start. Before I could even brace myself, it lunged over me and was gone back the way I had come. Toward Mao, I cringed. As we passed in the air, I caught a glimpse of the fleeing form. It was only the briefest of glances, yet that was all my battle-heightened senses required to dissect what I’d seen.

  Van Parson’s words at the Paris warehouse returned to me with complete clarity. Have the Asian bring him in, he had instructed his men, regarding Mason. And what had I glimpsed, as I flew to avenge yet another fallen comrade? Some sort of horrific human/demon hybrid, whose human aspect held the characteristics of an Asian male. Oh, Mao. It was Julinn. So, what then, had lain limp and shrouded over Julinn’s arms? Shrouded like a corpse? Again, I heard Van Parson’s answering words: Have the Asian bring him in. The Asian. Have the Asian bring him in.

  5

  I flew in, fists blazing, and let loose with a double barrel barrage of hard light blasts. Aesculapus spotted me, too late, and wasn’t able to get a full protective field up in time. Instead, he rolled with the blasts, to lessen the damage he sustained. I landed at a sprint and found myself at Caduceus’ side a second later. It was horrible. The man before me was not the friend I had come to know. The Caduceus I had stayed with, through my amnesia and rebirth, was a vital man with a contagious joy de vivre, who emanated a perpetual aura of good cheer. The broken thing before me possessed none of those qualities. I knelt at his side, taking in his vitals. I hadn’t been optimistic, so I wasn’t disappointed.

  Caduceus lay facedown in an expanding pool of blood. His body was shattered from the mauling he had sustained at the creature’s fists. His limbs were splayed at odd angles, and the position at which he rested seemed unnatural and pointless. In shock, I rolled him over, hoping to reveal his smiling face. What greeted me, though, was a tight grimace and already swelling eyes. I couldn’t tell if the blood covering his face came from the ground or from his mangled jaws, nose, and temples. It doesn’t matter. There was nothing I could do for him. What mattered was confronting the monster responsible.

  I turned to find Caduceus’ faux brother seated on the ground in the spot where he’d come to rest, following my initial attack. He had propped himself on his haunches to afford him a better view of our sickening reunion. The Dark Monk’s smug look of satisfaction contrasted with the visual he presented. It turned out he had taken some damage along the way, as well. Caduceus had said he could hold his own, even sans magic staff. While my worrying about him had proven sound, I hadn’t truly understood how much power my mentor wielded on his own. Ultimately, he had neglected to end his brother’s threat; he depleted his magic to merely bring Aesculapus to the brink of death, but no further.

  I intended to rectify that very soon. Van Parson had given me the crystal along with the instruction to kill Aesculapus. I had been unsure about taking a man’s life, even his. Now, I had a solid reason staring me in the face. I stared at the malignant observer with contempt. “He’s dying,” I spat, “while you’re just sit there and do nothing?”

  Aesculapus shook his head and hissed, “Of coursse he’ss dying. I brought him to this cursed spot to watch his life force drain from its earthly vessel. The way I feel, he’d better hurry it up.”

  I was overcome with murderous rage at his vile words. “Why?” It was all I could force through.

  “You know why.”

  “You did all this because of some prophesy, some vision?” I funneled a wave of energy over his head. “But he was your brother.”

  “I did it to save one brother and gain revenge against another.” I should’ve known better than to argue with insanity. “You saw what I saw, Kade Christopher Truth. Caduceus would’ve murdered me.” He slammed his fist on the ground for emphasis. “Right here! While rotten ole Lady Liberty bore silent witness to it all. First, I had her destroyed. Now, with his traitorous life extinguished, my vision shall never ever come to pass!”

  It was a madman’s rationale. He was so worried about the possibility of Caduceus killing him he had placed himself in mortal danger by engaging his brother in a battle. To his credit, he had probably seen this playing out with Caduceus under his spell. I was finished grilling him. I didn’t want to hear another of his ludicrous excuses. “Not all the statue was demolished, though,” I said as I rushed him. I rammed him, scooping his wrecked frame into my arms. “Why don’t I help you with that part of your plan,” I offered and slammed the two of us through the pedestal’s remaining points. I used his prone body to cushion as much of the collision as I could away. As we rocketed through the opposite side, I turned the nearly unconscious Aesculapus to face the crumbling monument. Either could stand as metaphor for the other, I mused. “That’s better.”

  I carried him to where we had started and dashed him, roughly, at his brother’s feet. “You hoped to cheat death, by killing this great man.” I spoke in a lot calmer tone than I would have imagined. As I spoke, I allowed the fire in my hands to intensify into a blinding ultra-hot white. “You’ve failed.” I placed my palm flat against his robed chest. His garment and the flesh beneath instantly began to smoke an
d sizzle away. Aesculapus howled and writhed against me, grasping at the false vitality his adrenaline produced. Still speaking in that eerily calm voice, I said, “You should have chosen drowning.”

  “Wait, wait, stop, damn you!” His expression told me even devils hated to burn.

  “No,” I replied, intensifying the heat.

  He screamed, and his head lolled on its stalk. Unable to meet my gaze, he sobbed, “B-but what about that last memory I showed you – the meeting?” He said it quickly, rushing it into the split second before I ended him. I paused, and he leached onto my hesitation. “You already know whose grandchildren wield the political and financial power; and you, yourself, are destined to be the savior of the modern world.

  “The others will come, I assure you. But don’t you wish an advantage? Stop this. Save me, and I’ll share the one close to you, who will orchestrate your corruption.”

  I admit to considering his proposal for a moment, but it was only a moment. That was all it took for me to lose my resolve. Sure, Caduceus was a dear friend; and this man is truly evil. But, am I actually contemplating cold-blooded murder? Will the revenge signal the beginning of the very corruption of which he speaks?

  Aesculapus knew my change of heart, yet rather than express gratitude, he took the opportunity to taunt me. “Besides, child, you cannot kill me. You dare not, lest you risk God’s wrath. The curse, boy, the curse t’would follow ye to the ends of the Earth.”

  I stared at him vacuously. “You’ve already ruined my life, you monster, as well as countless others.”

  He was unscathed by my words, and each passing heartbeat quickened his recovery. “If not for yourself, then consider your progeny,” he crooned. His cracked and yellowed tongue played over his lips. “What of the bastard whelps you’ll sire with your invisible whore?”

  His words swirled and grew inside my brain. What was he saying? Not just about Mao, either. Was he implying if I killed him my children would be cursed? I cast my mind to my Sunday lessons and Bible readings at The Sisters. He was telling the truth. “God help me,” I prayed as I let Aesculapus fall from my slackening hold.

  A triumphant grin spread across the Dark Monk’s face as he spilled to the ground. He cautiously regained his feet, and was opening his mouth to spout more of his hellish lecture when the top of his head suddenly atomized in front of me. A buzzing precursor. A dazzling light. His head was whole one second, not so much the next. I was on the cusp of blaming myself, thinking I had developed yet another use of my powers, but I quelled that fear as irrational. The mortal blow had come from behind my enemy, coating me with a fine mist of blood and bone.

  “Oh, I don’t know, I think God would understand,” Richard Van Parson replied, oblivious that he had been the answer to my prayers not once, but twice that day. In his hand, he held the still smoking murder weapon: the staff they had liberated from Caduceus. The irony wasn’t lost on me. “I couldn’t very well let him get away with calling your girlfriend a whore, could I, partner?”

  I was about to pull the clichéd, ‘I’m not your partner’ routine, when a small cracked voice stole my attention. It had come from Aesculapus’ direction. I studied his still form. He certainly appeared to be dead, but with these guys, who the hell knew. I turned back to Van Parson, determined to use my canned response, when I heard what was definitely the Dark Monk’s voice. It was louder this time, but just barely. “The … Curse.” He had gathered enough strength to tilt his chin in our direction.

  I was so surprised he still clung to life, his labored words didn’t immediately click. Van Parson, on the other hand, registered them and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Oh, yes, the curse. I never really believed any of that hoodoo, anyway. Besides, it’s about time, don’t you agree,” he leveled his gaze at me, and finished, “partner?”

  “Not. Your partner.” Finally! Thought I wasn’t gonna get to use that one.

  “Hmm, but we could be partners.” He motioned at his soldiers and his army of freaks, busily wrapping up the few remaining aerialists. “You could lead them. Think it over.”

  My fists began to smoke as I allowed the gall of his offer to sink in. Rather than answer outright, I readied myself to attack. I held my palms out, affording the CEO a perfect view of the broiling energies, threatening to explode at any moment. To his credit, he did not flinch. Rather, he did the worst possible thing he knew to do: he began to laugh.

  And I lost it. After regaining Caduceus, only to later bear witness to his death. To find Mao’s father had not been killed, but had indeed been grafted with something horrendous. And then there was the package he bore, as he lunged past. Poor, poor Mason. I reared back and let loose with all my unresolved anguish and bottled rage. May God have mercy on mine enemy.

  6

  Van Parson’s reflexes were sharp. He had goaded me, and he’d been ready. His arms were up by the time I released my fire. He ran his fingers over an inlaid keypad in his gauntlet and cast a tight, personal shield around himself. It was time for the ultimate test: his tech versus my gifts.

  As I fired on him, something slammed into me from behind. I went sprawling, and my blast went wild into the river. I shot up, putting myself back in the game. My sucker-tackle came courtesy of Talmage. From the satisfied look on his face, I was certain he had more in store. He had saved his boss’ life for the time being, and he had done it not with VPI weaponry, but with good old fashion brute force. So now it’s two to one. As I thought it, Donald Bishop came striding up with eight of his soldiers in tow. And now it’s ten to one, I thought. So be it.

  But there would be no fight.

  Warning shots rang out, and a storm of bullets peppered the ground around us. A contingent of guards from Statue Security held their firearms trained on us. I noticed they had received an upgrade to VPI-issue plasma-shots, and remembered what Marks had said about his ousting at the hands of their new owner. Unfortunately, although their number and firepower helped even the odds, the security team had nothing in their armory like these guys gauntlets. These were Van Parson’s top lapdogs, so, naturally, theirs were bigger. Moreover, our enemy’s ranks could effortlessly triple by calling his freak force back from the few remaining demons. I’ve also got to keep in mind they might not, necessarily, be on my side. They had fired close to me, too.

  It wasn’t long until I received the answer to that particular concern. Stephen Marks pushed his way to the fore of the security detail. He was wearing one of their spare protective bodysuits. “Heya, buddy,” he greeted me. “Evil bastard,” he said, nodding to Van Parson.

  I returned the gesture and was surprised to see Van Parson do the same. Then, the evil bastard in question, said, “If it isn’t the ex-head of Statue Security. I must say unemployment looks good on you. Though, you leave me scratching my head at why you’re here, leading my men.”

  “Not leading them,” he replied. “Just providing assistance to their little cleanup effort. When I left, I warned a couple of colleagues to keep their eyes on you. When something happened, they were to give me a call.”

  “I guess this fit the bill for something happening,” I speculated.

  “Too right,” he agreed. Then to Van Parson: “You and yours back off, and we’ll do the same. Police and National Guard have been called; and we’re all going to be civilized until they get here, m’kay?”

  “Are you arrogantly stupid, or is it stupidly arrogant. Again, I remind you those men are under my authority.” To his mutinous subordinates, he said, “Each of you are, from here out, relieved of your stations. Furthermore, VPI’s Statue Security division is dissolved indefinitely. The operation is to be absorbed by my own personal appointees.” Stephen and I exchanged unbelieving glances. “Misters Talmage and Bishop will be around to collect your sidearms. You will be allowed to bring your uniforms in at a later time. Should you forget to return your VPI bodysuits, you will be legally sanctioned and your assets will be frozen until the hundred twenty thousand dollar cost of the suit has be
en recouped. Are we clear?”

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that,” Marks said. “You’re out of control. Soon, you’ll be hauled away to answer for your roll in all this.” He spread his arms to indicate the island’s recent tribulation.

  “Arrogant. Stupid. Now, naïve. Son, I hold more power than the president of these United States. Even if I didn’t, every action I’ve taken has been with his complete cooperation. Why don’t you go ahead and think about that while your national guard comes rushing in. Now, I’m a fair man, and I will give you until they arrive to be gone from here.”

  “Fair?” It was Mao F’Yang. Tears streaked her delicate cheeks. Hate fueled her eyes. “You’re a monster! Look at this man; look at him! See what you’ve done to my father.”

  Van Parson did as instructed. Two meters behind Mao, Julinn stalked to catch up with his daughter; he still cradled Mason in his malformed arms. “The Asian,” he intoned, “I’m sorry, I had forgotten all about you during all the brouhaha. Your father is a good man, Mao F’Yang. I asked him to bring along your boyfriend’s friend for proper burial. Guess I never instructed him to set him down. Um, Julinn, isn’t it, why don’t you lay the corpse over there out of the way?”

  “Mace?” Marks looked at me for confirmation. “Is that Mace?” He sprinted to Mason’s side, unobstructed.

  I followed him confident the firefight had finished. On my way, I tried to catch Mao’s eye, but she looked away. What was that about? Then, I had reunited with my ex-roommates.

  “God, Kade, he looks so dead,” he said. Grief has a way of stealing our vocabulary from us, I mused. Besides, it was true, and it summed up the hell of the situation to a tee.

  “I know, man, I know.”

  “That damned wreath,” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, remembering the inside joke.