The mayor didn’t know what to say.
“The simplest weapon I learned about from the grand duke is a drug that increases the growth of bugs inside the human body. Intended to massacre OSB who had taken on the shape of humans or Nobility, the drug causes organisms that live in everything but Nobles to grow to enormous size and run amok, chewing the flesh to bits. If I were to release a milligram of it into the air, the Capital would be reduced to a lifeless wasteland in a minute. Were I to demonstrate it on a town of, say, a thousand people, the government would instantly transfer power to me, I imagine. After that, I can do as I like—what?”
The mayor was looking up at the Professor. “Will you have a place for me in all that?” he asked.
“Of course. But I won’t be able to raise you to the same station as myself. I’ll need servants who’ll be able to walk around in the light of day.”
“Anything will be fine. I’ll make your wishes come true. Please, make me one of you.”
“I believe I will,” the Professor said, his voice brimming more with confidence now.
The mayor felt his surroundings growing brighter. On noticing that, he gasped with grief. The shadow of the Professor, which had enveloped him, had vanished at some point.
“I just became one. I’m a Noble now,” the Professor said gravely. It was a declaration from an immortal. “Now I realize what the grand duke’s goal was. The thought of him being satisfied with four human sacrifices a month in his boondock fiefdom is preposterous. His aim was to become ruler of the Noble world. By giving technology to humans, he’d give rise to a king of the human world who was loyal to him. He could control that king, making him send humans out to conquer the universe. And the moment they did, he intended to personally slay the humans and become supreme ruler of the universe. Oh, I see it all. How well I understand it. But the grand duke is dead. And I, Professor Chaney, will fulfill his wish.”
Grabbing the mayor by the wrist, the Professor forced him to stand, leading him deeper into the structure.
The village is going to change real soon, the mayor told himself. The world really does belong to the Nobility. No way the human race would ever beat them. And that being the case, I’ve got to grab what crumbs I can.
Each wrapped in his own thoughts, the new Nobleman and his servant melted away into the darkness, just as D had done. All that remained on the floor was the grand duke’s dissolving head. The last power maintaining it must’ve fled, and the instant it turned to dust, lips that now housed only a single fang grinned quite plainly.
III
He was conscious of the fact that he’d dozed off. And he also realized this was a dream. Yet it was set in his usual underground research center, which was far from sexy. That dissatisfaction had firmly taken root when he heard, Jo . . . zeee—
I’ve heard that name before, he thought.
A woman was standing in front of the door. Even on seeing her white dress he didn’t think of her as being a resident of the castle. After all, he’d always thought she looked good in that color.
The woman drew nearer.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, adding, “Who are you?”
“Have you forgotten my face? Is it because of the dress?”
He didn’t know what to say.
“If not, then say my name. I haven’t heard it in such a long time!”
A pale hand touched his cheek. It was warm. Just like in the old days. He didn’t have the hood on. After all, this was a dream.
“My face—is it still the same?” he asked.
“Yes, but a little bigger and stronger looking, I suppose,” the woman replied, her tone gentle. Not once had she ever scolded him.
“Françoise,” he called out to her.
“That’s right. That’s my name.”
The woman brought her face closer, rubbing her cheek against his. Her next words were unexpected.
“Be careful. Everyone’s out to get you!”
Her tone was so urgent it made him anxious.
“Why?”
“The grand duke was destroyed. But the government official from the Capital got bitten by him and will carry on his wishes.”
“That’s odd. The grand duke bit him, but he’s dead now, right? In that case, the people he bit should’ve turned back . . .”
“Just one bite made him just like the Nobility! He’ll never be human again.”
“Why’s he after me?”
“You’re an obstacle for the Nobility. A human who speaks out against their rule. You’re one of them.”
“But he used to be human, too, right?”
“Yes. He was human. Now he’s a Noble—at least, so he thinks.”
“Will he come here?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Françoise, how can you know these things?”
“Because I’m a dream.”
“A dream?”
“Vyken used his power on me. He can turn anything into a dream. Probably a natural talent that the grand duke amplified. And dreams fade away. But I didn’t vanish so quickly. I wanted to hold on until I could see you.”
“Then this is the last I’ll see of you?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t leave you in danger like this. But to be honest, I don’t know. Run for it, Jozen.”
She said the name quite clearly. And he remembered. That was his real name. His current name—Cornet—he’d taken when he got his new face.
That’s right—what about this face? Surprise and shame rose about him like a hazy mist, perhaps because this was a dream.
“In dreams I can help you,” she said, “but in reality I can’t. Hurry up and run away.”
“No. If that’s the case, I’ll have to turns dreams into reality,” Cornet said, shaking his head decisively. “Françoise, thanks for telling me this. In dreams or in reality, I’ll put something together.”
“Put what together?”
“A device to swap dreams and reality, of course. If I do that, I can keep you from fading away, Françoise.”
“But—”
“Oh, I’ll do it. I’ve always pushed the limits. If it doesn’t work, we’re no worse off.”
He turned his gaze down to his hands. All the parts he needed were there. He assembled them without a single misstep. It took no time at all. They were in a dream, after all.
“I did it, Françoise!” he shouted.
A pale flower bloomed before his very eyes. Françoise had smiled.
“Great,” she said, her voice gradually become louder and louder.
Great!
Great!
Great!
It echoed through his head, becoming a maniacal scream.
“Please, stop!”
The cry had been his.
Cornet looked all around. There was no one there. This was reality.
“And the swapper?”
There was nothing in his hands.
I can do it, right?
He was solid on the principle behind it. He’d just been thinking about it in his dream. There was nothing wrong with the basic concept. However, he was short on parts and other materials.
“What’ll I do?”
And then it suddenly came to him. I can’t do this in reality. But in a dream, I’m sure I could—
Did I complete it?!
At some point, Cornet had begun squeezing his hand into a fist. He turned around.
Françoise was standing there.
“You—you’re the one I built, aren’t you?” he asked.
“That is correct, sir.”
“Okay. I need you to go to Doc Chavez and—”
He proceeded to give her a list of things he wanted.
“Understood,” Françoise said with a bow, and then she started to walk away.
“Wait.”
“Huh?”
When she turned to look back, an iron screw struck her forehead, making a long noise. Swiftly catching it before it could fall, the android inquired, “What is
it, sir?”
“Nothing. I’m counting on you.” And saying that, Cornet sent her on her way.
“Pretty screwed up, isn’t it?” Valen murmured sadly as he looked up at the moon.
“You can say that again. Getting called out to this godforsaken place at this hour,” Lascaux replied. His bandages were so thick that through his coat it looked like he was wearing a stomach band. Rubbing his belly wound, he continued, “Think maybe that son of a bitch is a little full of himself because he’s one of the intelligentsia? Bastard looks down on us, thinking all we’re good for is fighting.”
Another man, Mask, was quietly slumped back in the saddle, but out of the blue he asked, “What’s the story with Ringard?”
“Probably still in the bar hitting on some woman,” Lascaux spat. “He’ll have no one to blame but himself if they dock his pay. But what the hell’s the Professor playing at—or more to the point, what the hell’s he gone and done?”
What Lascaux was driving at was this: it was around noontime that they’d set out, having gotten an urgent message that their employer was headed up to the grand duke’s castle to stop D and that they should come as soon as they could. But the drawbridge wasn’t even down over the moat. As confused as that left them, they were contacted once again and told that he had business with the grand duke, and their orders were to wait there. The sun had set but still the Professor hadn’t returned, and before long, lights sparked in the castle windows, accompanied by the kind of commotion that suggested a ball. Once more word came from the Professor, telling them to head back to the hotel for a while and await further instructions. It was over an hour ago that he’d last made contact—telling them to come to a desolate area just southeast of the village.
“That’s one screwy castle, eh?” Lascaux said, looking to his two compatriots for agreement. “It’s bustling with music. I can hear laughter, too. The party’s in full swing. And still I don’t sense a single goddamned living thing.”
“That’s the Nobility for you. What are you gonna do about it?” Valen replied as he gazed down lovingly at his nails.
“Yeah, but still. I’ve seen Noble parties from a good distance off before, and ones with a hell of a lot fewer guests than that, but they seemed a lot more lively. They might be the living dead, but even that’s still got ‘living’ in it!”
“What the hell would we know about the Nobility? They look pretty much just like human beings. So they probably come in all kinds, just like human beings,” Valen clucked. “But all that aside, there’s something funny about the Professor. Didn’t you guys feel it? First when he told us to go back to the hotel, then again when he called us out here—the voice I heard through the communicator had a strength to it, like he was a completely different person from before!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lascaux. His voice was soft and low, and his eyes had a strange glint to them as he stared at Valen.
“Do I have to spell it out for you? The Professor was off with the grand duke!”
An unsettling wind moved through the group, shrouding them in silence.
That was the moment. Mask sat up straight on his horse. The other two also turned to look in the direction his iron mask was pointed.
Blinding lights and a piercing engine roar were drawing nearer on the same road that’d brought them there.
Had the night breeze become an evil gale?
Repressing the killing lust that radiated from every inch of them, the trio faced their employer.
Labyrinth of Lies and Truths
Chapter 8
I
On returning to Earth after slaying the grand duke, D rested his weary body in a dilapidated house near the center of the village. The effort of twice returning from space had dealt serious damage to his steely physique, and he fell into an almost deathlike sleep. Any quack who might exam him now would probably remark with admiration, “What a lovely corpse.”
That deathlike slumber had already lasted an hour—and it seemed as if it would never end. So when D did move, the world undoubtedly cried out, Can this be right?! He had a daunting gleam in his eyes. This young man would never appear groggy.
“What is it?” asked his left hand. “That was an oddly quick recovery—no, you just woke up early. I wouldn’t say you’re back to normal yet. I don’t know what you’re planning to do, but show some restraint—hey, are you listening to me?!”
D had already exited the dilapidated house. The hoarse voice asked if he’d had a dream or something, but the Hunter vanished into a stand of trees.
Shaken hard by the shoulders, Ringard woke up. The first thing he felt was a pounding headache. It was your typical hangover. He let out a low groan as his body burned with anger at being dragged out of Utopia.
“You bastard . . .” His eyes shot over, catching sight of an iron mask. “Oh, it’s you, Mask? You’ve got . . . nerve. I suppose . . . you’re ready . . . for a pounding, eh?”
“You’re the one who’d better get ready.”
“Whaaat?!” Ringard said, his hitherto sluggish tongue now back to normal. “Mask, you’re pretty shaken up. That’s not like you.”
“Yeah. Well, things have taken a pretty nasty turn. You’d better hear me out, Ringard.”
And having said that, he turned his gaze to the woman who was looking at them with a frightened expression. The woman retreated to the back room. As did the bartender who was behind the counter.
“The Professor’s become one of the Nobility.”
Ringard swiftly came back to life. “I don’t know about Lascaux or Valen, but you wouldn’t lie to me. So, what happened? Wait a minute—didn’t we all get called together or something?”
“Yeah, and you’re the only one who didn’t show. That’s why you’re still alive. Everyone else got nailed—those Nobles are no joke.”
“Those guys got taken down? What, did you get ambushed or something?”
“No,” Mask replied, “it was a straight-up fight, fair and square.”
“No way. Damn.”
“I managed to make it back here, though. Let’s hurry up and blow this place.”
“I can’t do that. Our boss turned into a vampire. So, we get scared and run off—and you think I could keep doing this for a living when that gets out? You oughta know better, you lousy coward. Where are the other three?” Ringard asked.
“They said they were coming after us. They’re probably not far off by now.”
“Then that suits me just fine. Take ’em out in the counterattack, and then I’ll take over the Professor’s old gig!”
“You’ll have to let me in on that action!”
Clucking his tongue, Ringard replied, “I suppose I’ll have to, at that. But just letting you know up front, the split’s gonna be eighty/twenty.”
“You heartless bastard. Sixty/forty.”
“Seventy/thirty.”
“I can do that,” Mask said, nodding. Due to the mask covering his face, the action seemed particularly grave.
“Okay, ready to go face them?”
Getting to his feet, Ringard called out toward the back room asking how much he owed. The bartender responded. Leaving payment, including a tip, on the table, he headed outside. The iron rings around him started revolving again the second he stepped away from the table.
“We’ve got a good three hours till sunup. One way or another, this thing’s getting settled,” Mask said in a low voice.
The two men headed for the fence where their cyborg horses were tethered. Once they were on the road, Ringard halted his steed and turned his eyes to the sky.
“What is it?” asked Mask.
“Perfect timing—for them, that is.”
“Oh.”
“Run for it!”
As he said that, Ringard turned his horse east. Getting a kick to its flanks, the cyborg steed tore into the ground.
Before they’d gone five hundred yards, his horse’s gallop came to an end. Both his cyborg steed’s front legs
had suddenly been severed.
As his mount went down spurting blood and oil, Ringard leapt off it in midair. He leapt—but didn’t fall.
“What the hell?!”
The cry that rang out to his right was in a low voice, but it carried a hint of surprise. For Ringard was floating in midair about fifteen feet off the ground.
Looking to either side, his eyes paused on some woods to the east of the road. Pointing, he shouted, “Perfect. In there, Mask!”
One sailing through the air, the other racing across the ground, the two of them went into the woods. Towering to the heavens, the titanic trees there were twice as big around as a man’s arms would fit, yet there was quite a bit of space between them. More than enough for a ground fight. Or an aerial battle.
There wasn’t long to wait before a car and a cyborg horse came down the road headed toward the village. On seeing Mask, who’d dismounted, the others dismounted and got out of their vehicle, respectively. In his hand the Professor had a walking stick with a golden grip while Lascaux was empty-handed, though he wore a loaded automatic short bow on his hip. The moonlight gave a stark glow to their mouths. Their fangs.
“What about Valen?” Ringard inquired from midair.
“Seems he’s kinda shy by nature. So he’ll be watching over us from a distance,” Lascaux replied.
“Well, that’s pretty creepy. Call him out here and I’ll put down the lot of you!”
“Leave Lascaux to me,” Mask called up from the ground below.
“You would take the easy one, you bastard,” Ringard replied. “Yeah, leave him to you my ass!”
“Oh, don’t be that way.”
“Professor, just what were you planning on doing next? It was the grand duke that bit you, right?” said Ringard.
“That’s right. Although I let him bite me, to be precise.”
“So you just said, ‘Help yourself to my blood’?”
“Something like that. And then I received the power of a Noble. What’s more, I obtained access to the Nobility’s technology and all its fruits.”
Noble Front Page 15
