The Pendragon Codex

by D. C. Fergerson

  “Oh, shit,” Cora said under her breath, bracing for the free hit she’d given the ninja.

  The ninja did not disappoint, leaping into the air at the last moment. Her boot heel struck Cora in the sternum. Her other foot swung from below in an arc. The steel toe of her boot struck Cora under the chin as she completed the motion, flipping backwards through the air. Cora’s feet came off the ground as she flew backward. She slammed back to earth just as swift, the banister behind her striking across her shoulder blades. The sudden shock sucked the wind out of her. She gasped to breathe. Her head spun as she tried to focus. The ninja ran away, down the hall for her prize.

  Instinct forced Cora’s hand to her back, pulling out her Taser pistol and firing off two shots. They both struck at the center of the ninja’s back but did not impede her in the slightest. Cora shook her head and groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and ran after her. Those suits were intended to absorb far greater electrical currents than her pistol could generate. What started as a painful jog increased pace with every step. As her regeneration kicked in, the soreness decreased and her speed pushed to a full sprint.

  She gained on the ninja down the Richelieu wing, catching up to her as she rounded the doorway to the exhibit hall. The ninja turned around to face her and dropped into a fighting stance. Cora slowed her approach, grabbing hold of the magical tether between her and Vincent.

  “I think we’re on the same side,” Cora said, striding confident. She kept her hands at her sides, trying to appear as open as possible with the pistol still in her hand. “We don’t have to do it this way. We could get the artifact out of here and go talk. Just you and me.”

  The woman said nothing. Her stance was rigid and practiced, keeping her weight low and centered. She invited the challenge, daring Cora to enter her space, but Cora remained on the edge, circling her wide. Gunfire filled the distant background, echoed from the lobby. Julian was either using lethal force to get out of the museum or taking casualties trying. Time was wearing thin.

  “Not one for conversation, huh?” Cora said. Shaking her head, she said, “That’s a shame. I’m just going to have to beat it out of you.”

  Cora set weight on her back leg and leaned into her battle stance. By her form, the ninja appeared to have more experience with unarmed combat, but that was the risk she’d have to take. The only way to even the playing field was to fight dirty.

  “Caw!” Vincent croaked, proud of his great battle cry. He swooped down from inside the room, coming up behind the ninja.

  Cora gathered another Stunbomb in her back hand, counting on that electrical shield being down. The momentary distraction of Vincent as he entered the battle gave Cora the excuse to cross the distance. She came in first with a low kick, but the ninja didn’t avoid the shot. She took everything Cora had, weaving at her hips around where Vincent came from. Ducking down, a straight punch found Cora’s undefended stomach.

  The hit turned Cora’s guts. Bile rose in her throat. Her grip on the growing orb of energy tightened. The ninja spun in closer, until her back pressed to Cora’s chest. One hand gripped Cora by the forearm, the other struck her wrist with such force that the Stunbomb flew from her hand. It landed and shattered a dozen feet away, well out of range to be any consequence. The ninja ducked, still gripping Cora’s arm as she weaved under it.

  Even though Cora could see the moves ahead like a cruel game of chess, there was little she could do about it. Her left hand came around, swinging wild at the ninja with the grip of her pistol. The ninja unleashed another palm strike, this one more purposeful than just to disarm Cora. She took the hit to her dominant arm, the crack of bone echoed across the hall. Cora screamed, only committing to the return attack harder. The bottom of her pistol grip smashed into the flat face of the ninja’s helmet. Spider-web fractures burst across the surface. An entire third of the glossy black front flickered as the ninja reeled from the blow. She slammed her back into the door jamb of the exhibit hall. The buzz and flicker on the face her helmet increased before reaching a fever pitch. The dark, reflective surface blinked out for the last time, exposing a portion of the face within.

  Cora cradled her arm, eyes fixed on the ninja’s face. Her soft, fair skin beneath the helmet spoke of immature youth. Cora’s mouth fell open, stepping slow to avoid a more violent response.

  “God, you’re just a kid,” she said. She cocked her head. “What are you doing here, involved in all this?”

  The ninja rebounded off the wall, coming at Cora full force. She could see fear in the girl’s blue eyes, perhaps uncertainty, but she was too proud or too dumb to back down. First, it was a high kick that snapped out at Cora’s head. Even with one good arm, Cora blocked the kick, losing the taser gun in the process. Next came a spinning back elbow. Cora lurched back, out of the way before it connected. Another kick, this one from her right side. Her arm at her side limp and undefended, Cora had no choice but to take the hit.

  She cried out in pain, struggling to defend herself, deal with the pain, and reach out to Vincent for help. The girl was too fast to let her breathe and think, only struggle and react. The raven shrieked as he dove at her from high above. The ninja hopped a step back and swatted at Vincent, narrowly missing him. Cora’s eyes flared wide, filled with anger for just how close the ninja came to hitting her bird. She stepped forward with a front kick of her own, forcing the battle further into the exhibit hall. She threw a punch, hurting herself on the shattered and dense face of her helmet. More of the screen inside flickered and stopped displaying the facade. She could see both of her blue eyes now, filled with fear.

  Another wave of magical energy burst into Cora’s arm, her regeneration getting to work on the break. Cora put up a knee, forcing it into the ninja’s ribs. She used her own helmet to retort with a headbutt, smashing Cora’s nose well enough to drip blood and make her eyes tear up.

  Cora reeled back a few steps from the hit, ready to come back in. The blow disoriented her more than she realized and opened her to a ranged attack. The ninja threw something at her, striking Cora in the chest. She looked down, only able to mentally prepare herself in the split-second that followed. A sticky grenade the size of a marble rested on her sternum. Rays of light burst out from its center and exploded.

  A flash of light blinded her. He stomach flipped as she sailed through the air, followed by a sudden slam of her back on the hard wooden floor. Her eyes fluttered as Cora tried to regain her sight through the colored spots that danced and burst in her vision. Magic swarmed all through her - her skin, her chest, eyes, and her mending arm. In the distance, she heard the shatter of glass. Her arm snapped back into place of its own will, knitting together the broken bone.

  “Caw,” Vincent warned from somewhere. She was going to get away.

  Cora pulled herself up at the hips, then all fours. Her field of view unclouded. The ninja pulled a small cube from its glass enclosure at the center of the room. After this, she’d be gone. Cora balled her right hand into a fist. It hurt like hell, but it worked. Her legs wobbled as she lifted into a runner’s lunge. Once again, she propelled herself forward and broke into a race.

  The ninja tapped a finger against the ear of her helmet. Her voice was young, her French accent thick. “Get me out here, now!”

  Cora was at full speed going into the room. The ninja put up her fists, ready to strike. At the last moment, before the two collided, Cora ducked her head down and dove in, slamming her shoulder into the ninja’s unprotected waist. The pair headed down to the ground together, though Cora had a special view of the world, moving in milliseconds. The peach fuzz on her forearms stood up. Her hair lifted off her shoulders. The entire area around the two of them fell devoid of all sound, like a calm before the storm. It was then that a flash of light burst all around her, leaving the exhibit hall empty of them both.

  Scientific Progress

  There were nights of binge-drinking Cora recalled that ended better than this. Her stomach turned, her head spun, and every
muscle told her brain heat was coming in white-hot. Her vision reoriented while colored blobs danced around. She was on top of the ninja, the girl struggling to get back the wind Cora stole with that tackle. As Cora pulled herself to her knees, it took everything in her not to throw up all over the expensive white tactical suit below her.

  The room hummed with electricity. Cables as big around as Cora’s arm wound from the platform the two of them laid on. The winding mass led to a metal box that went from floor to ceiling. Between her and the box at the other end of the room, a older man stood over a desk, his mouth agape. Though his white hair receded long ago, the rest of it grew to his shoulders and angeled in every direction. His button-down shirt partially untucked from ill-fitting trousers, he looked better suited to a nursing facility than behind the sophisticated holographic computer on the desk.

  There was no time to think. She had no idea where she was or how she got there, but the ninja would be up in seconds, and the fight would resume. Cora hopped to her feet and walked backwards toward the old man, eyes on the ninja. She drew her Predator from its holster and trained the weapon on the old man. Without hesitation, he put his hands up. The ninja staggered to her feet. Though only part of her face was visible as the helmet’s LCD panel flickered, the girl’s gritted teeth and contemptuous eyes tried to burn a hole in her.

  “Not one step,” Cora warned. “We need to talk and that’s going to have to happen at the end of this gun. Are we clear?”

  The girl said nothing. Her eyes moved a slight bit back and forth.

  “Do not test me,” Cora said, raising a finger. “I will pull the trigger before you even get close. Do you have any idea what this gun can do?”

  The ninja took a breath. Her youthful French voice struggled through English. “That’s an Apex MPP-64, the Predator. Magnetically propelled rounds. You shoot, the doctor will have a fist-sized hole in him. I am not moving...yet.”

  “Smart girl,” she replied. “So, let’s have a chit-chat.”

  A smell caught Cora’s attention. Something was burning. She spared a sideways glance to the old man.

  “Is something on fire?”

  The old man was even more difficult to understand with his heavy Russian accent. “Probably. Coil burns out every time we use it.”

  “Why?” Cora raised an eyebrow.

  He replied, his voice raising an octave with every word. “Because this machine is PIECE OF SHIT!”

  Cora nodded. “Okay. Good answer,” she returned her attention to the ninja. “You. Helmet off and start talking. Where am I?”

  “Saclay,” she replied. With the press of a button on the side of the helmet, a puff of air released and the helmet separated at the sides. She pulled it off, revealing her full face. With her smooth porcelain skin, she was likely not a day over sixteen. Her brown eyes said she’d seen much more than any girl of that age ever should. The sides of her head were buzzed close, with scars marking where hair wouldn’t grow anymore. The thick brown hair atop her head fell to one side, covering one eye.

  “You’re so young,” Cora shook her head, still in disbelief. “Where is Saclay?”

  The girl sneered. “You didn’t do much homework, did you? We’re nineteen kilometers southwest of the city.”

  Cora guffawed. She felt for her spiritual link to Vincent. He was around, someplace far above her and quite concerned.

  “Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there and have a talk with grandpa here, because I have a feeling my next question is going to require a missing Russian physicist to answer,” Cora said, turning to the old man. “Doctor, how in the hell am I nineteen kilometers from the city in a matter of a second?”

  Without releasing himself from a surrendering position, he motioned behind him. “I build matter-energy conversion transport. Piece of shit on fire behind me.”

  The blunt answer caught Cora off guard. “Oh. Is that all? Great. Back to you, hon. Do you have a name?”

  The girl crossed her arms and tightened her jaw. “Madeline Berger. That is my real name and I say it proud!”

  “Okay,” Cora offered an uneasy smile. “I respect that. My real name is Cora Blake. My people gave me the name Speaks With Ravens, but I usually go by the one my mother gave me,” she glanced at the old man. His face grimaced as he struggled to keep his arms still. “Put your hands down, Doctor. Your name is Vadim Tesla, am I correct?”

  He let out a sigh of relief as he lowered his hands and nodded. “You are.”

  A woosh of air came from the machine behind her. Heat followed. “That’s really on fire now, isn’t it?”

  The old man turned around and back to Cora. “Yes. May I put it out?”

  “Please do,” Cora replied.

  “You work for the dragon?” Madeline asked, turning her head to spit at the mention of him.

  Cora’s brow furrowed. “No. He killed my mentor and made me pull the plug on my father. Our relationship isn’t what you’d call swell right now.”

  The loud expansion of gas filled Cora’s ears as Doctor Tesla sprayed his contraption with a fire extinguisher. She waited until he had finished before resuming the conversation. In the meanwhile, she surveyed the room. It was bare and clinical. The entire room was dedicated to devices connected to the series of cables all along the floor of the room. The walls had no windows, and lined with the same glossy material as Madeline’s tactical suit.

  “There’s no windows here,” Cora said. “Are we underground?”

  “Oui,” Madeline replied. “The dragon cannot find us here.”

  “Lucius is looking for you?”

  “Of course,” she shrugged, pointing at Tesla. “He’s been after the doctor for four years. I do not know how long he’s been looking for me. I only know if you end up on his list, you make yourself disappear before he does.”

  Cora shook her head. “Wait. Your names were in Project Phoenix?”

  Madeline betrayed her tough demeanor, giving way to confusion as she looked to Tesla for answers. The old man returned to his place at his desk, bringing the chemical smell of extinguishing foam with him. Still in hangover mode, the scent made Cora’s stomach do backflips.

  “What is this Project Phoenix?” Tesla asked.

  Cora stared at the both of them. Whether they were new to the black-ops game or not, their clueless looks were genuine and not hidden well. “Lucius’ list of people and artifacts that he needs removed as he prepares for some kind of cold war with the people on it. If you guys don’t know about Project Phoenix, why in the hell were you hitting all these museums? And can I put the gun down now?”

  Madeline exchanged a glance with Tesla and raised her arms. She pressed an invisible button on each of her gloved hands, letting out an audible power-down. Shaking out her arms at her sides, the gloves fell to the floor of the platform she was on.

  “I’m now unarmed,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re safe if you try anything.”

  Cora smiled and replied with a respectful nod. She holstered her Predator. “I like your grit, Madeline. Now, tell me why you’re hitting these museums.”

  “Tesla found his...what you say...artifact, years ago,” she replied. “He told me he had dreams about it. For years, I’ve had dreams, too. My artifact is here, in this city. I’ve always known it. Then the soldier from GNN shows up in France and breaks into museums. I wait until he comes to Paris.”

  “Only,” Cora said, holding up a finger. “For all your tech, you don’t know how to break into a museum. You needed the soldier’s team to do it for you.”

  Tesla shrugged and hung his head. “I am not computer programmer or hacker. I am engineer and physicist. Even that, I don’t do well.”

  “Are you kidding? You just teleported us nineteen kilometers in half a second,” Cora replied.

  “To be honest, I am not sure why you two did not fuse together and die. Screaming,” Tesla said, illustrating the point by mashing his index fingers together.

  Cora couldn’t be sure if the langu
age barrier made him say it so plain. The matter-of-fact way he described the concept of fusing together with another person made her even more uncomfortable than she already was. “That’s terrifying. Thanks for...not...doing that, though.”

  She rubbed her temples. “So you’ve been having dreams about an artifact you think belongs to you? Here, in Paris?”

  “It called to me,” Madeline replied.

  Cora looked around for chairs. Not even Tesla’s desk had one. “Is there a place we can sit down? God, I need a drink.”

  “Let us build trust over vodka?” Tesla asked.

  That was best idea Cora heard all day. “A thousand times, yes. Lead on, Doctor.”

  Taking up the rear, Cora followed the duo out of the laboratory. The hall was reminiscent of the underground arms dealership Derk ran out of Daiki’s non-human bar in Berlin. The tiled walls had small computer panels every few feet to control hidden security measures behind the panels. She kept a close eye on Madeline. Even if they were on the same side, she would drop the young girl in a heartbeat if she so much as sneezed in the direction of one of the panels. Thankfully, she never tried, and they were soon in a living area with a holovid screen and couches. A small bar lined one of the walls, and Tesla made a beeline for it.

  Madeline pulled down a hidden zipper along the side of her suit and stripped it off as she walked to one of the couches. She let the costume fall to her ankles and took a seat, removing her boots and getting comfortable. She wore a skintight black bodysuit, the same Nomex suits that Bauer soldiers wore beneath their armor. Her body was lithe and toned. Despite her small stature, with her musculature it was no wonder her fighting skill took Cora to task. A tell-tale scar at the base of her neck indicated she probably had a wired synaptic mesh over her spinal column. The reflexes that came with those kind of cybernetic upgrades bordered on precognition if they were top-end. She checked the girl’s hands for a tremor, usually a side effect of cheap installations, but she was a rock.