El Sombra

by Al Ewing

  If Der Zinnsoldat could feel such a thing as panic, it felt it then. It tossed Carina to one side like a sack of grain and charged, both paws extended in a final attempt to fulfil its programme. Its life could be measured in seconds now. Can a machine panic? Can a machine hate? The meaning of Der Zinnsoldat's existence was in tearing and crushing and killing the target, in rending El Sombra like cloth, in wiping the masked man from the face of the Earth. It had been sentenced to die, yet its final movements were for the purpose of killing its foe.

  If that is not hate, what is?

  El Sombra was within range. Der Zinnsoldat brought up a metal paw, achingly slow.

  The masked man took a single step back. And Der Zonnsoldat crashed to the earth, no more than a heap of old and broken metal dotted with flame.

  El Sombra rushed over to Carina. She had struck her head against one of Karsten's hooves when she fell, and was rubbing the back of it in obvious pain. "Are you okay?"

  She looked up and smiled, then winced. "I will be. You know, I was meant to be the one to save you this time."

  The masked man grinned. "If you hadn't turned up when you did, I'd be a dead man by now. You saved my life."

  "Fine... we'll call it one each. But next time I get to save you properly."

  "We'll see." He smiled again and leant down, lips close to hers - and then she fell back, unconscious. El Sombra touched the back of her head, and his fingers came away bloody.

  It looked like a serious concussion, maybe even a skull fracture. Not to mention the bruised ribs she would have sustained in the monster's grip. He could take her back to the shack and try to fix her up, but what then? She'd be on the run with him. They'd go out of their way to hunt her down. Every nook and cranny of every house would be searched, anyone suspected of hiding information would be shot, any suspected revolutionaries would be tortured and, meanwhile, Carina would probably be brain damaged because he didn't have the resources or the knowledge to treat a serious head injury.

  Taking her with him would get the whole town burnt to the ground and probably kill her.

  Of course, the bastards had the best in medical care. And she was the daughter of one of the top bastards in the land, the traitor Rafael, alias Master Plus. Her father was obviously a highly regarded man, by his dazzling white suit and the jewels that dotted his person. If El Sombra took her back to him, she'd doubtless be in the lap of luxury before an hour had passed.

  He frowned. There was a flaw in the logic somewhere that bothered him. But the girl in his arms could be dying. He had no time to debate with himself.

  It was time for El Sombra to make his deal with the devil.

  "...and then, when I had lost all hope, he rode up on my white horse, with my daughter in his arms. She has a concussion and needed medical care... and so you were the first one I called on. That's what happened, General."

  General Eisenberg raised an eyebrow. The expression on his face was one of cold, unremitting contempt.

  "He brought your daughter back to you, Master Plus? That seems strange. You say he was the one who kidnapped her in the first place, yes? Well, then, why would he bring her back, even if she was ill? Unless, of course, she was in league with him. That would make her an enemy of the Reich, would it not?"

  Master Plus swallowed, feeling the noose tighten. "General, with all due respect, my daughter would never, never consort with an enemy of..."

  "I'm very glad to hear you say that, Master Plus. Very glad of that indeed. Because if she had... consorted, as you put it, with an enemy of the Ultimate Reich... well, steps would have to be taken. For both of you." He smiled and nodded towards Master Minus. Who smiled and nodded back. The General turned, his eyes twinkling, and suddenly the two men seemed like nothing so much as a pair of hungry vultures circling a hunk of rotting carrion. "You understand that, don't you?"

  Master Plus' throat was dry. He breathed in and then out. If they did not believe his story... he thought back to the moment when El Sombra had ridden up to him on the white horse. He was sitting outside his destroyed home, with a pair of guards stationed to keep watch. He had told them nothing. What was there to say? He could not condemn his own daughter with the truth.

  He had let his head fall into his hands, and when he had raised it again, the guards were gone, without a sound, and El Sombra was in their place, riding his horse, and carrying his daughter. Master Plus had screamed bloody vengeance, called him every name under the sun, and the masked man had taken a tin bucket, of all things, and slammed it down on his head. And then he had told him to take care of her, to get her medical attention, everything the Ultimate Reich could provide.

  El Sombra was a good man, it seemed. But he did not understand. He honestly believed, like Carina, that Master Plus held sway in the Generaloberst's office. And why shouldn't he? It was precisely that impression that the little fat man had spent nine years attempting to cultivate.

  A pity, then, that nothing could be further from the truth. Master Plus knew what the penalty for his daughter and himself would be if the facts of her involvement with the defeat of Der Zinnsoldat were made known. Now he sweated grotesquely, pinned like a butterfly on a board by the General's mocking stare, as he searched desperately for a way to make his ridiculous fairytale believable.

  "General... the... the only way she would have received such a head injury would be in trying to escape his clutches. You... your own experience on the battlefield... Herr Generaloberst, you must have left many enemies wounded, in order to slow down their fellows..."

  "Not a one, actually. I shoot to kill." Eisenberg stared for a long moment, watching the fat man squirm. "All right, Master Plus, I believe you."

  Master Plus' eyes widened in shock and relief. "Yes, Herr Generaloberst! Thank you, Herr Generaloberst!" He made a start towards the door and then stepped back, shuffling his feet and giving a quick and shoddy impersonation of a salute. "H-Heil Hitler, Herr Generaloberst!"

  "Heil Hitler, Master Plus." The Generaloberst paused, almost for effect, and then turned slowly to stare the fat man directly in the eye, his grey orbs turning frosty. "Of course, that still leaves us with another matter."

  Master Plus looked at him as a gazelle might look at a lion slowly stalking closer.

  The Generaloberst's voice was soft and infinitely gentle. "The matter of the statue, Master Plus."

  Master Plus stepped back, one hand clutching at his chest, his skin suddenly as pale as the flesh of a corpse. He staggered, then swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. He could not speak. All that came from the pallid throat was a low, strangled sound of terror and despair.

  The General nodded. "I will call on you to discuss that at length, Master Plus. In the meantime, you may return to your quarters. I strongly suggest you remain there until you are summoned."

  Master Plus nodded, the glazed look of purest horror in his eyes unchanging, and slowly staggered towards the door. It seemed as though he was still having trouble breathing as he gripped the doorframe, looking back at the General as though he was about to say something - but then he turned away, back bent like an old man as he made his way through the door. Master Minus smiled wryly as the fat man shuffled out, then turned back to Eisenberg.

  "Herr Generaloberst, on the matter of his daughter... why pretend to trust such an obvious fabrication? You are a man badly in need of a scapegoat." His voice was soft and sibilant, crackling like dry old leaves.

  Eisenberg turned, and all good humour was gone from him. The twinkle in his eye, the confident air of command had been replaced by a rage born of stark fear. "There is no scapegoat, you fool! Der Zinnsoldat was in my care! It was signed over to me! Now the only way we're going to get it working again is to ship it back to Berlin and have it repaired, and if that happens, and this lunatic hasn't been caught, I will be going back with it, and you will be, and my psychopath of a son will be, and we will all be gassed and thrown to the wild dogs! Do you honestly think Berlin wants human robots if it means that every nine
years we can expect terrorist attacks? We have to crush this El Sombra like the bug he is and we have to do it now!" He began to pace, growling under his breath like some wild beast.

  Master Minus looked curiously at him through the faceplate of his leather suit. "You will do yourself an injury, Herr Generaloberst. Stop and think for a moment. This El Sombra is only one man, and even madmen have weaknesses that we can exploit. Is the girl being cared for?"

  Eisenberg snorted contemptuously. "She's being kept under guard in her rooms, or what's left of them. El Sombra needn't have bothered bringing her home, there was barely anything wrong with her. A cut head, minor concussion and a bruised rib or two, nothing remotely serious. He must have panicked like a schoolboy." The Generaloberst allowed himself a chuckle. "For such a bloodthirsty insurgent, El Sombra has a weak stomach when it comes to sacrificing those he cares for."

  "Then we have a weak spot, Generaloberst. He cares. We can use that, I think."

  Eisenberg smiled. "Quite so, Master Minus. We can use the girl as bait for..."

  "Of course, Generaloberst, but I was thinking more that it was time to test one of my own humble experiments in the field of robotics. It isn't quite as... self-sufficient as Der Zinnsoldat, but it has a psychological edge all of its own. The prisoner Santiago is still alive, thanks to my... committed care. I would like your permission to feed him to Projekt Drehkreuz."

  The old man smiled softly.

  "It is time the fly met with The Spider."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Drehkreuz

  "Hear ye! Hear ye! The wedding of Oberstleutnant Alexis Eisenberg and Carina, daughter of Master Plus, shall take place this very day at noon in the Centre For Social Advancement! All are invited! Come one and come all to the wedding of Oberstleutnant Alexis Eisenberg and Carina, daughter of Master Plus!"

  Ten minutes later, El Sombra burst into the dilapidated shack that belonged to his best friend.

  "'Carina, daughter of Master Plus'? She was Carina Contreras when I knew her, when did they take away her name? And what's this Centre For Social Advancement? And what's this wedding?" He stopped, looking around. "Hello?"

  The only response was the air whistling through the old boarded-up windows. The shack was exactly as it had been when he had last seen it, every rotting beam and splintered board in place, the table standing sturdy and strong by the window, catching the sunlight.

  On the table was a note.

  Gone for a walk. Back soon. J.

  El Sombra picked it up, turning the paper over and over in his hands. A note on the table, left in front of the window for all to see. Madness. He turned the paper over again, read the message once more, folded it and slipped it into his pocket to dispose of later. Then he looked around again, eyes roaming over the walls and floor. Without knowing quite why, he reached out, fingers brushing the wood, almost as if to make sure it was actually there. There was an itch in the back of his mind, and for some reason he could barely fathom, the fact that the layout of the shack was exactly as he had last seen it... disturbed him.

  He moved to the rug that covered the trapdoor, lifting it up and then knocking out a prearranged rhythm. No response. He hooked his fingernails at the edge of the trapdoor and it came up easily, without the slightest squeak from the hinges, without even a whisper. The silence of it unnerved him.

  Descending into the darkness he held his breath, unsure why his hackles were up. What was he expecting? A skeleton to rear out of the darkness and bite him? Jesus to appear and say that he had left that note as a practical joke?

  Something was... wrong. There was no other word for it.

  He searched twice through the dank recesses, not quite sure what he was looking for, and then blew out the candle he'd lit and went back up to the surface. Evidently, he had to take this at face value. Jesus, in his infinite wisdom, was out on a morning walk. He'd see if he could spot him in the desert. If he did, he'd knock him unconscious and carry him back to the shack, and then chain him to the basement wall.

  El Sombra shook his head, looking around at the inside of the shack, and then walked out into the sunlight, still troubled. There was something nagging at him, but it was not until far, far too late that he realised what that something was.

  Everything in the shack was in its place... except for the cobwebs strung across the corners of the ceiling and between the beams.

  They were gone.

  "You had that eyesore rebuilt? Isn't that a little extreme?"

  Master Minus shook his head. "No, Generaloberst, it is not. We cannot put surveillance on the house, because he will see it and never go there again. If we had left it as it was, with holes in the floor and blood on the walls, El Sombra would have known that his fellow insurgent was dead or in our keeping, and his reaction would have been completely unpredictable. By spending a small part of our resources on making a tumbledown shack in the middle of nowhere look slightly less tumbledown, we keep our mouse running in the maze of our choosing."

  Eisenberg shrugged, looking out of the window over the town.

  "We could have used his friend as bait. That was my plan, and it's a plan that's worked in the past. Hold a big, flashy execution in the Great Square."

  "And what happens when El Sombra swoops in and rescues him and humiliates you as he did your son?"

  Eisenberg bristled at the mention of Alexis. The boy had never been quite right in the head, but since his defeat at El Sombra's hands he had grown far worse, if such a thing were possible. The General would have been afraid for him if his own position were not so precarious. "Let me assure you, Master Minus, the insurgent could never..."

  "He finished Der Zinnsoldat. Can you take the risk?"

  The silence filled the great, plush office. Without the mahogany desk, the place seemed empty now, as though the Generaloberst had already packed up and moved out. Eisenberg felt exposed here. He hadn't felt exposed when he'd crawled across the fields outside Kiev in full moonlight, inching forward, waiting for something with black leather wings and ripping teeth to swoop down and drain the blood from his body. There, he had focussed on the mission, and his duty to inspire the men who followed behind him. But now the men who followed him had sharp knives ready for his back, and his office was a stark emptiness that echoed the hissing, clicking, scraping voice of the Führer. In his mind, he could already hear that voice pronouncing a sentence of death upon him.

  He was afraid.

  "This scheme of yours, it seems a risk in itself. How can we be sure that the terrorist won't destroy your Spider the way he's destroyed everything else we've thrown at him?"

  Master Minus smiled, a dry chuckle emanating from somewhere within the loose confines of the leather suit. "I fully expect El Sombra to defeat our Spider, Generaloberst. In fact, I look forward to it. The moment when he plunges his blade through the Spider's beating heart will be very sweet to me."

  Eisenberg looked up, outraged. Master Minus chuckled again, amused at the reaction.

  "For at that moment we finally destroy El Sombra."

  Master Plus sat on the steps of the House Without Windows. They might as well call it the House Without Walls now, he thought, as he played with the rings on his fingers. He shook, twitching involuntarily, beads of sweat creeping down beneath the collar of the white suit which was no longer quite so pristine. The streaks of dirt and dust that had found their way onto the fabric mirrored the sudden fall in status of the man who wore it.

  He had been relieved of his duties.

  The statue had fallen, and the workers were swarming to clear it from the Great Square, starting with the shattered remains of the feet and working up. It would take two weeks, if not longer, and there would be little need for reward to spur them on. Failure to keep to the schedule would mean death. And so Master Plus sat on the steps and fiddled with his useless finery and waited for his own end to come.

  A pistol dropped into the dirt at his feet.

  "I took it from a soldier on the way here. I thought y
ou might have a use for it. There's still a bullet left, so... feel free."

  Master Plus looked up at El Sombra, then back down at the gun. He sighed.

  "For God's sake, get inside before someone sees you."

  The two men entered the house, moving towards the small kitchen that Master Plus kept for himself on the ground floor. It was where he did his drinking. He pulled a bottle of whisky from the shelf and sat down, motioning to El Sombra to take a seat. The masked man looked at him distrustfully.

  "What is this? You're offering me a drink now?"

  "They took my daughter because of you."

  El Sombra blinked, then sat down. "Say that again."

  "They took her. Because of you. Because you came bursting in through the window of my home. Because you just had to see what was inside. Because you told her everything so now she hates me. Because when the consequences of your actions bounced back on her, you couldn't at least keep her out of their hands."

  El Sombra's stomach lurched and he felt a terrible fear overtake him. "Why wouldn't she be safe in their hands? You're part of the machine here and you're her father."

  Master Plus pointed a finger angrily. "How naive can you possibly be? I'm expendable at best! After what happened yesterday, they're just waiting for an excuse to finish me. They pretended to tolerate me because they had a use for me, but you've ruined that. It's on your head if anything happens to her!"

  "You're the one who kept her locked away for nine years!"

  "I was trying to protect her!"

  El Sombra slammed his fist down hard on the table. "Well congratulations, amigo! You did a brilliant job!"