by O. J. Lowe
His strength with the Kjarn was only now starting to return to him, his mind aching as he sought to retrain the atrophied muscles, so to speak. He would get back to where he was. It was just a matter of time. Even if Madam Coppinger sought to hurry him along, it would not be the case that he moved to her timetable. Some things all the money in the five kingdoms couldn’t deal with.
His thoughts moved to her as he toyed with the steel casing, connecting the crystal up to the emitter muzzle, soldering the circuits. He could have done with a specialist crystal for the job but for now, a charged container crystal would have to do the job. It wouldn’t last as long, he knew that as he held it in his hand and squeezed, let the energies from his own body transfer down into the small gem. When he felt the humming resonance of the Kjarn bubbling from it, he halted. These things could be delicate when overwhelmed. They were supposed to be unbreakable.
He disagreed. Nothing was so strong that under the right circumstances it couldn’t be shattered. Delicately he slipped the crystal into the cushioned housing in the cylinder telekinetically, shifting it this way and that until he was satisfied it was locked into place. He’d need to keep a track on this until he could acquire a more permanent solution. If it exploded while in the weapon, he’d lose his hand at the very least.
Somehow, he doubted he’d be as fortunate to get as quality medical treatment from his hosts under the shadow of a second affliction. He knew what they were. That Rocastle fellow was like a cancer, malignantly looming in the Kjarn like something unspeakable, a spectre of hate and rage while Domis’ had no presence beyond a trace, barely comparable with the hulking presence he was in life. That had bemused him as he’d looked on the big man. Doctor Hota who’d made him so much more again had been a shade wracked with guilt but below that a man who’d once wanted to help people but had slowly been twisted into doing work that he wasn’t entirely satisfied with. Wim had looked deeper and seen the remnants of what had been there to start with. It was sad in a way.
And Madam Coppinger… Well… Considering her had been an interesting experience. No doubt. No regret. No questions. Just an iron conviction that she was going about the right course of action. She genuinely sought to make the five kingdoms a better place. Her meetings with all those criminals spoke volumes about her ambitions. To take the lowest of society, those who thrived on the suffering of others and to turn them to your cause of making everything better… He didn’t know if it was genius or lunacy. Maybe they were two sides of the same coin where she was concerned. He could remember their first discussion, the first true one they’d shared since he’d awoken in that hospital bed.
They’d given him clothes, smart casual but no robes. Still it had been better than the rags his old clothes had become on the streets. In a way, he didn’t resent that time. It had given him focus. Time to think about what needed to be do. He knew only death was permanent and the Kjarn wills as the Kjarn does. In time, an opportunity would arise for him to retain what had been lost and that would be the start.
The first thing he had noticed about Madam Coppinger as he’d followed her through the corridors was that she didn’t feel evil. Of course, evil was a very subjective term. It was probably the wrong thing to think but given what she wanted, it was not the actions of a benevolent person. Or even someone in their right mind. Nobody would think that what she had planned could end anything but badly. She wasn’t just playing with fire; she was sinning against nature. A thought that had gestated the more she’d shown to him as they’d moved through the corridors of what she’d affectionately described as her Eye.
He hadn’t gotten the comment at the time, at least not until they’d arrived at the top deck, her office. Domis stood waiting for them, silent and imposing in the background but constantly on the balls of his feet as if expecting attack at any moment. Beyond the windows, he could see the sky and the clouds, level with them. She moved to her desk and sat down.
“Mister Carson…” He fought the urge to correct her with the Master title. He wasn’t worthy of that right now. The time would come but he was some ways off that. “… We are here because I have chosen to trust you. I have made an investment in you and I expect you to honour our arrangement. If you don’t, I’ll be most upset. You’re an interesting figure to have around and I do not wish that to change.”
“Our arrangement will be honoured,” Wim said. Privately he was amused. There was no need for the threat. He drummed his fingers on the desk, felt the rush of static burst through them and she withdrew her own hands as if stung. A harsh curse slipped through her lips and he might have heard a yelp somewhere in there, Domis was over there immediately, grabbing Wim up by his throat in one swift hand. “I do not intend for that to… change!” He managed to gasp that out across the great paw threatening to crush his larynx. He didn’t react. Now, it was only that. A threat. She nodded her head and Domis put him down. “If I wanted to get out of it, I could kill you and he wouldn’t be able to stop me in time. Just consider that.” He grinned at the great figure still looming above him.
“You wouldn’t survive it.”
“Madam,” he said with a great deal of patience in his voice. “Do not assume to tell me what I would or wouldn’t survive. I believe the reality may surprise you. I do not wish to be your enemy. You want to rearrange everything about this world that makes it what it is. I want to retire to a small corner of it, my own choosing, with several individuals with whom I might recreate what once was. You want what I can give you. You believe it will validate what you try to do…”
“No,” she interrupted. “Far from it. I don’t care about validation. When enough force brings the boot to the neck, you don’t care whether the person standing on you has the right to do it or not. I want the power.”
“Then you’re a fool,” he said. “Because power is as power does. It is a fire that consumes, a thirst that cannot be quenched. Power for the sake of power is like playing with a bomb. It does not care who is caught up in its explosion.”
“I do not wish to debate philosophy with you. I have my reasons.”
“And I would cling to those reasons if I were you. I will help you regardless, just don’t expect me to be stood anywhere near you when it backfires on you. Think about why you want the power. What you intend to do with it. And think about all the people who are going to be affected by what you wreak up on the five kingdoms.”
Wim studied her impassive face for a few long moments, not sure if he was getting through. “Because this is bigger than you or me. It is going to have serious ramifications on everyone. And you start on this path, there is a great danger it will consume you. You can’t truly prepare for it; you can only hope there is still a part of you left after it overcomes you for the first time.”
“You sound like you’re trying to get out of the deal.” Her expression didn’t change and he felt a stab of annoyance poking at the middle of his being.
“Did I not just say I wouldn’t? I just feel the need to inform you of what you are getting into. A duty of care, if you would. It’d be reckless of me not to.”
He sighed. “But if you’ve got your heart set on it, then just consider what I’ve said. I do know quite a bit about this stuff, you know. You should at least acknowledge that.”
“I already know what I’m getting into,” she said simply. Wim Carson knew then that his words had been wasted and he felt sorrow for the time he’d spent bringing them to voice.
“I know what is going to happen. And I am prepared. This change is going to happen with or without your help.” She pushed a button on her desk, he felt a brief wince of pain coming from her as she did it with her burned fingers. The desktop slid back to reveal a portable projector, Wim folded his arms and stared at it impassively as it came to life. Domis had retreated to a safe distance, apparently satisfied that the threat to his Mistress was no longer present.
In front of him, first came the orb, intricately detailed and present with dozens of technical details of wh
ich only some he could understand. More details flashed into existence, a pair of U-Shaped extensions connected to the orb, one on either side, the one on the right at the base, the one on the left at the tip. Some of the technical details, he understood. Dragon grade armour plating. Quantum-based shields. Two thousand solar panels covering the orb. Five hundred plus on-board air defence hyper lasers. Hangars, laboratories, medical facilities… His mind raced at the thoughts of what this might mean if it was made an actuality. This was, for all intents and purposes, a war machine. Nothing else.
“This is where we currently stand,” she said and his heart did a somersault. “The Cloud Conqueror. The Eye of Claudia. It has many names but for those who would oppose me, it needs only one. Death. Come, walk with me and then doubt that I have prepared for this for longer than you have imagined.”
The labs were the first place they’d gone, sterile white with dozens of safety masked men and women working away across many different positions, all with the intent of focusing on a great number of transparent tanks towards the back of the room, each filled with liquid and…
“My Divines!” Wim exclaimed. “Fury of the Kjarn!” He didn’t use that expression lightly either as he strode in, took a closer look at the figures in the tanks. She followed him, he could feel the smug satisfaction coming off her. Some of the figures were at different stages. Some were little more than infants. Some were entering puberty, both male and female, while some were just about approaching adulthood, various nodes attached to their bodies through intravenous drips.
They each wore strange helmets on their heads that covered everything above and including their eyes. Each chamber had a readout on it, he paid no attention to it and instead stared into them, not with his eyes but with the Kjarn. They didn’t register any sort of individual reading, rather a great overlapping sense like a bubble. Not one individual but many.
“Impressed, no?”
“This is an abomination,” he said. He couldn’t hide his disgust. “Clones?”
“Yes. It’s hard to put together an army loyal to you. They’re bred for one purpose. To die for me. The criminals have their uses; they will be loyal to a point but I’m not stupid enough to think that they’d betray their own should the need arise. Each has their own designate. Each for a sole purpose. Quick to breed, there’s a training program, that’s what the helmets are for. They’ve already been tested, I sent some down to the Quin-C a few weeks ago to assist with Doctor Blut. Unfortunately, they were killed in action. There have been too many wiped out already between Unisco and that little bitch we had down below. She managed to slay twenty-two of them on her own across two encounters.”
“Yes well,” Wim said. He didn’t want to be reminded of the girl. “You should have informed me about her. If you had, she might still be in custody.”
“I was only vaguely aware of it myself,” she said. “I blame Rocastle for that. And he lost his fingers as punishment.”
“A bit draconian from you,” Wim said. He didn’t have to turn to know a smile had flit across her face.
“Unfortunately, he engaged the girl and she crippled him in exchange for his team keeping her captivity. I like that sort of malevolence. Shame she died. We might have been able to make use of her.”
He didn’t bother to correct her with the assumption that she might not be dead nor the lunatic idea of trying to recruit her. If he had the right reading of her, she wouldn’t be interested in supposition or theories of things she couldn’t possibly understand. There were a lot of things she didn’t understand.
“I’m trying to win a war, Mister Carson. I can’t afford to be ethical,” she said. “I suppose you don’t like this. But it’s necessary. Is it not better that a thousand clones die rather than actual people?”
“And at what point do the clones not become natural people?” Wim asked quietly. “Are they not alive?”
“There’s nothing natural about them,” she said.
“Well I think we’ll agree on that,” he said, glancing towards a different kind of chamber in the far side of the lab. “And what’s that?”
“Just a different experiment,” she said nonchalantly. “An experiment to create a different kind of warrior to the clones. One who isn’t expendable, if you like.”
He had to go and look, he wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he hadn’t. He’d managed to get himself involved in something here which, had he known the details beforehand, might not have been his choice. Yet for better or worse, he was here. And he’d made a deal.
Nobody could ever say he wouldn’t honour his promises. He had that. It was about all he had left of his old life, it felt sometimes.
A woman lay in the chamber, motionless, eyes closed and barely breathing. She was naked and he got the impression she had once been quite lovely before the prominent black scarring that marked most of her bare skin.
“She should heal up sooner or later,” Madam Coppinger said, following him over to the tube. The unconscious woman wore a device across her upper body, it looked lightweight and metallic but it was strapped around her neck and under her arms and around her stomach, all leading into a metal plate that looked to be grafted to the area across her left breast. “And then things will get truly interesting.”
“Who was she?”
“A spirit dancer. Now she’s irrelevant. She no longer has a name. Just the urge to obey.” He didn’t like the smile he saw on his new associate’s face. It lacked humanity, he fought the urge to turn and walk out. “I don’t think they’re looking for her any longer. When we’re sure, we’ll set her loose on our enemies. A day they will rue.” She let out a small chuckle as she said it.
Beyond the lab there was what could only be described as some sort of obstacle course, many of the same faced clones running around it, training, testing themselves. He could hear and smell blaster fire, there must be a range nearby, even if he couldn’t see it. The two of them stood high above it all, looking down. They were far enough away to resemble ants, not far enough to be invisible. He wondered idly if her ego had ensured the design had been pushed through in this fashion. It wouldn’t surprise him.
“Of course, the knowing how to do it is useful but I’ve always found that practice makes things that bit better,” she said nonchalantly. “Every clone has a purpose; I don’t intend to waste them. We have facilities here; we have more throughout the five kingdoms. Soldiers, spies, saboteurs, pilots, scientists all of them come out of these machines, all armed with the knowledge they’ll need to complete their mission.”
“Scientists… You have clones creating more clones? At what point does that become perverse?” She ignored him, instead continued to stare down at the obstacle course. When Wim Carson had been a boy, he’d been to a zoo and seen the monkeys in their enclosure. All of this reminded him of that on a grander scale.
“I’m trying to win a war,” she said. “And I’m trying to do it as bloodlessly as possible, Mister Carson. I have waited years for this. It’s almost upon us. I just need what you promised to get me.”
It was his turn to say nothing. He felt her eyes bore into him and he ignored it, resting his elbows on the railing. Far below one of the ropes lifted lazily as if caught in a breeze. He didn’t consider it a casual waste of his power. Rather an extension of his mission to reclaim what he had lost. It hovered listlessly in the air for a few moments and then dropped again, his interest lost. He was certain he’d need something bigger than a rope to test out his limits. Something for later, perhaps. Wim stood up and turned to face her.
“And I will,” he said. “When the time is right. Stop trying to force the issue on this for it grows tiresome not just for me but I can’t imagine you’ll enjoy hearing the same thing forever.”
“My patience does have its limits; I warn you on that.”
“Then I suggest you don’t strain them unnecessarily.” They stared each other out for several long moments like two feral cats daring the other to make the first move. He wasn’t
intimidated. She seemed to be under the illusion he was. His expression didn’t change, just kept a dead eyed cold lidded stare at her that would have done a lizard proud. Eventually she gave and he felt a faint tickle of satisfaction flood through him.
“Come,” she said.
The next place they went was an even bigger room, this the size of an aircraft hangar filled with cages from wall to wall, he ran a quick count across them and appraised that maybe there were twenty, each huge, each heavily reinforced. He could see the energy fields generated around them. Whatever was in there, they didn’t want them getting out.
“This is something I’m exceptionally pleased with, if I’m honest,” she said. Wim continued to look around, saw signs of damage to one of the walls, like it had been hastily repaired and not aesthetically finished yet. “You know what the people of these kingdoms are like? They admire the strong. They admire their spirit callers and they appreciate their Divines. So, I thought why not combine the two.”
A chill danced through his spine and Wim squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about what might come next. He didn’t want to know.
“You look like you’ve had some trouble,” he said, inclining his head towards the damaged wall. Reaching into the Kjarn, he could smell the past of the room and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Fire, lightning, death and destruction, all one big blend. Just for a moment, he saw the spectral remains of a man thrown against the wall, neck bent sideways and his limbs shattered.
“Well some did escape,” she said. “But we recovered them. Mostly. There’s still one unaccounted for. No great loss, it was flawed really. And we still have some more that are works in progress. But I think we have the start of something deadly here. Something truly special.”
Wim strode past her and out into the hanger floor, only then truly catching the smell of the area. It took him back to memories of that zoo, he moved over to some of the cages and peered inside curiously. Some of them were empty. Others weren’t. Amongst the creatures inside, he saw a huge six-eyed snake with golden coloured scales, a snow-white bear with a mane of fine blue-grey fur around its neck, a pure black leopard with thick bristly fur. That one bared its teeth at him and through the Kjarn he caught a sense of its malevolence, not just that but of the thousands of tiny microbes unleashed by its breath. He held his, involuntarily. They weren’t getting through the energy field but at the same time it felt like a futile gesture. Even from here with this faint touch of them, he could tell they were toxic.
