He paced off ten even steps and put his hands to a wall, this tangle the same as the rest from what she could tell. He mumbled—it almost sounded almost like a prayer—the vines shook, then squirmed, a vertical nest of snakes. They parted top to bottom in an ‘A,’ revealing a dark hollow. The light didn’t penetrate. Another space-jumping door.
“This is it,” Shannon said. “They can alter the periphery, but not the core paths. There will be a guardian, which one, I don’t know. It could be both.”
“Both what?”
“Advanced AI, sentient, just like Lord Odin and I. If we’re lucky, we get Sleipnir alone.”
“We used to work together centuries ago,” Shannon said, eyes intense. “But considering this Ragnarok bullshit, we’re more likely to face Fenrir.”
“The big dog from those fantasy games, right? Can’t be that bad.” Her connection bar had fully recovered. She’d set her gaze on Bunny. The little guy bounced up and down the corridor. Hyper much?
“Fenrir is fated to devour Odin.” Nicky’s knuckles whitened around his hilt “His mouth is said to scrape both sky and the earth when gaping.”
“Just like a flying fortress.”
“I had him transferred, held captive here. His thirst for power was incredibly strong.”
“So you had him sent to the largest weapon on Earth?”
“Imprisoned. While it may seem like we’ve had an easy time getting in here, it’s only because I’ve been communicating with The Mission my entire existence. Remember, even I couldn’t escape their lockdown in The Spire without your assistance. The Mission’s bindings are at least as strong, though it seems the Sol-Union has loosened his tethers, thus the efficiency of Nome’s bombing. He is my…reflection.”
“I thought we were going after the comm network, not the core or weapons system.”
“The comm network facilitates all wireless interaction between systems, extremely important, but The Mission can still operate along internal landlines. Make no mistake; it will be well guarded—yet in comparison, attacking the core would be suicide. Fenrir and Sleipnir are powerful opponents, but far from invincible.”
“I wish Vidar had survived,” Nicky said. “His destiny was to avenge Odin’s death, defeating Fenrir and ending the Ragnarok.”
Jessica bit back a pointless, harsh quip. “I wish he was here too.”
“Hmm.” Shannon smiled. “In a very real way, he is. Just stay out of trouble and don’t get yourself booted.”
“Don’t get yourselves killed, especially you, Nicky. Shannon may have a hundred lives, but you only have this one.”
“Nicolosi makes a better Thor than some nameless Einherjar.”
“Kind of you to say, Sire, but I will fulfill my humble destiny. Do not fret, Valkyrie. I plan on living long enough to see you free of this city.”
“Let’s make it now. We’ll leave together.” She called Bunny back to her side. He meeped and tossed up a ‘V’ with two fingers on his paw.
That’s the spirit.
~ 39 ~
Gungnir
November 31, 4124 — 4:22 PM
The team of four crowded the entrance. Jessica gawked, Shannon sneered, Nicky hesitated, and Bunny simply looked confused.
The courtyard expanded a quarter mile to the opposite wall and as a square from side-to-side. Grassless, loose dirt shifted in the wind, the sky above a fast moving cloudscape, all tinged red. A mighty oak dominated the courtyard’s center, adorned with emerald leaves too green for life. Maybe three hundred feet tall, its trunk twisted, supporting ten thousand branches, each limb supporting a thousand birds, many coming, many going—bluebirds, cardinals, crows, white doves, mottle-feathered pigeons, owls, and hawks. A man circled the tree at half-perimeter, armored in a splint mail skirt and bronze cuirass. A gladius bounced off his thigh. The centurion seemed to keep his distance from the tree’s shade—and the focus of everyone’s duress.
He was really a dog? It sure looked big from this perspective. Even five hundred feet away and lying down, the black wolf appeared two men tall. His chin rested on his front paws, Ayla’s sleeping pose, eyes closed, nostrils flaring with his breath.
They had to kill this behemoth? It was probably thirty feet tall, standing. She’d seen Jacob down big monsters in AE, but never this big, and he said he was ‘elite.’ Perhaps Shannon could do it, but she’d already seen him hide himself from a bone-ball and dodge away from a couple vines. Her confidence drained from her fingertips—take the lead, boys.
A crow cawed. Bunny raised an ear. The wolf flicked his.
“Hester!” Shannon yelled. Both man and wolf snapped alert and glared about the courtyard, unfocused. A hundred birds left their perches and glided over the walls. A sun-blotting flock returned.
“So you’ve come.” The centurion said, eyes hidden behind his half-face helmet. “Leave while you can.”
“Or you can follow me out. It’s not too late to do something good.” Shannon stepped forward, jarring Nicky from his extended pause. Whatever intimidated her fearless friend, it was probably better she didn’t know. The guardians still spun their heads around the field.
“It is for me, Shannon,” Hester said. “I made my choice; I’m riding this through. Show yourself.”
“So Farkas can get his revenge? Bullshit.”
“Fear the one you betrayed?” The wolf’s mouth didn’t move, but his words boomed around them. The voice was a mix between a sharpening blade and an avalanche. “You’d do well to hide, but I’ll still find you. This was a mistake.”
“Perhaps,” Shannon said, “but I’ve no issue with either of you. Care to settle this after I finish my work?” Farkas snarled; Hester drew his sword. “I’d enjoy ending your shit existence, Farkas, but I can’t destroy you, my friend.”
“Best make peace with that.” Hester’s search stalled between two doors. Another trio of birds returned. An oriole sang. His gaze settled at their portal. “I will not relent.”
“Have it your way. No interruptions?”
“No interruptions. I’ve suspended comm.”
The colorful birds coming and going became gray-tone ghosts, though their volume seemed as consistent as before. Nicky flanked far left; Bunny, far right. Jessica stayed put, assigning herself as Shannon’s backup—no one said otherwise. This whole thing was miles over her head.
Farkas paced head down; his drool sizzled where it landed. Hester slid a sandal forward, dropping into a wide-legged, sword-back stance.
Shannon leapt forward in a drill-spin. His spear again popped to life between outstretched arms.
Hester sprinted to intercept, but stumbled as a wave of fire crashed over him. Bunny drifted high in the air, his cheeks puffed for another blaze. The centurion narrowed his eyes, squinting in the sun. Swirling clouds coalesced, thickening, casting the courtyard in gray. Nicky saluted, sword to chest. Now faced with two uncloaked enemies, Hester backpedaled, his armor scorched head to foot. “And you are?”
“Your opponent, though I am not worthy. En guard.”
Shannon’s aerial joust ended in a dirt shower as Farkas pounded the earth with his forequarters. This time the spear was double-pronged, its twin blades curved to an oblong circle. Feet planted wide, the man swung off the hip, then spun it over his shoulder as the impossibly fast wolf dodged. Jessica kept her distance and waited for an opportunity.
Before touching earth, Bunny released his second volley. Hester accepted the wash, squaring off, gladius versus Nicky's basket-hilt broadsword. Grimacing through the flames, the centurion lunged, nearly teleporting with his speed. Nicky parried off and returned the thrust. The broadsword scraped Hester’s cuirass before it pulled back and deflected another slash. The men broke off and reappraised each other.
“Not worthy? You thought to deceive me into confidence.” Eyes to the sky, Hester gestured with his free hand. Bunny’s third fireball burst midair, colliding with a fat-bodied black bird. A half dozen more swarmed the rabbit, talons and beaks tapping
against his not-so-soft hide. Hester finally returned the salute. “Now it’s a duel.”
“If you feel me your equal, I apologize for my companion. It is my honor.”
“It’s your death!” Hester juked left, then spun back, aimed at Nicky’s torso. Her friend skipped back and used his weapon’s better length to cut a tear along the centurion’s arm.
A wave of dirt obscured them both. The roar was just short of deafening.
Shannon’s partisan had pierced the wolf behind its shoulder. The spear tore free, posed for Farkas’ neck. The beast splayed his front legs and rolled away. Shannon continued his assault in a run as the wolf floundered away. A deathblow chop descended. Farkas planted his hindquarters and leapt, bouncing off the courtyard wall.
“You never were a match for me,” Shannon said, shaft to his back. “Give it up and you’ll fare better than our city has.”
“Nome was lost far before this. It’s been cleansed.” Farkas panted, his tongue far out his maw. “Respect for the dead? We’ll build you a shrine from the rubble!”
He dashed forward, chomp and nail, forcing Shannon on the defensive. Jessica felt far more spectator that participant, struggling to catch up, let alone keep pace. Farkas slammed the man’s chest with a headbutt, knocking him back towards the tree. Shannon braced the spear’s bottom against his foot, staving off the wolf’s charge.
Bunny stood on flat ground, torching each new set of crows with controlled bursts. They harassed him just enough to keep him sidelined. Nicky seemed a sword-stroke from victory, though all through defense. He never pressed, but constantly punished Hester during every short-ranged exchange. The centurion spat, double gripping his blade. “What are you?”
“Your conception,” Nicky hadn’t moved three feet from his original position since the duel began, “though you’ve fallen too far from grace to consider a father.”
“Military, law, education? Which is it?”
“I’ll allow you to wonder. Please relent.”
“You don’t understand anything.”
“I understand you’ve turned your back on not only your city and its citizens, but yourself as well—the ideals you instilled on your progeny. Whatever you wished to accomplish in Nome, this is your last opportunity to do it with honor.”
“Hester!” Farkas glared over his bloodied shoulder. “Remember how they repaid us: whoring themselves for one last grasp at Nome’s promise. They turned their backs on us, and now they suffer due consequence.”
The centurion’s wounds closed, though his armor still bore the scars. “He’s right, Shannon, if not for your commercialism, we would have remained off the Sol-Union’s radar. A tragedy still, but without federal intervention, the leash that binds us. You exacerbated the politics you so despise.”
“Ever claiming innocence. Your fucking compliance doomed thousands! Did you ever think you were sent to The Mission to prevent this sort of intervention? The idealist and the brute, both unshakable.” Shannon flipped his spear into a javelin grip at the shoulder. Its haft receded, as did the head, the partisan blades melding into a fiercely jagged harpoon. “Trusting you was my failure.”
“Go ahead,” Farkas said, “erase your—”
Shannon launched his spear, following through in a somersault. The beam of light pulverized earth as it went. The shockwave bent branches far above. The beam pierced Farkas’ breast. And paused. An inch into the hide, the spear shook violently, a cone-shaped glow rippling between the weapon and wolf.
Hester blinked out of sight, as did Nicky. Both reappeared a few steps closer to Farkas and exchanged blows before vanishing again. By the forth blink, the Centurion lost ground, Nicky finally on the offensive.
Shannon’s summersault ended in a leap. He flew along the javelin’s path. Farkas howled, nose to the sky—the spear slid away from the wound. Still pushing against the wolf’s barrier, its haft vibrated as a tuning fork. Shannon met the spear and wrapped his hands around it. Feet planted, his muscles tensed, neck bulging. Farkas swung his head down, maw gaping. A rolling wave of light and dirt crashed into all combatants, the tree, and the courtyard walls.
Jessica’s connection bar blanked out, then reappeared at a sliver, then full, alternating until she heard Shannon’s voice: a battle cry.
The screen went dark.
~ 40 ~
Odin
November 31, 4124 — 4:31 PM
Jessica blinked, staring at the blank screen. She wiggled a joystick-thingy and tapped on the crystal keyplate. Nothing. Shannon still hovered in the silver rings, silent, unmoving. Nicky hadn’t shifted the entire time, his holo-monitor dark as well.
The speakers crackled.
Then she heard a crow’s caw and the soft croon of a mourning dove. The screens flared back to life.
* * *
Jessica faced the courtyard wall, or rather hugged it, helmet to stone. Given her previous position, she must have been blown back a hundred feet. She turned and scanned the dust-clouded grounds for friend or foe. If her team had been defeated—or killed—she felt at a loss about her options. Even if she managed to finish their enemies off (highly unlikely by her reckoning), she had neither the program nor know-how to finish their mission. This better not be the end. Again to be a simple survivor with no power—her heart dropped.
“Nicky? Shannon?”
The clank of steel on steel. The flutter of wings and an angry burst of flames. The outline of a shield-sized paw paused her in mid-step. A gust of wind thinned the mist. Farkas lay on his side, eyes open, dull beads. His tongue rolled loose from his slackened jaw, coated in brown. A gaping hole in the wolf’s chest leaked a slowing flood of crimson, the fluid making jelly of the dirt.
She circled the corpse, searching for another body: Shannon’s. She heard a soft murmur, the prayer-like chant that had opened their way before. A long cord of silver extended between the tree and a point just beyond her sight. A row of robins sat upon it like a clothesline. Another gust and she saw him.
So much for destiny. He’d done it.
Shannon’s eyes were closed, hands folded over his chest. Dirty, but unbloodied, his face appeared serene, without pain, worry, or joy. Now he could restart the comm network, disable The Mission’s scrambling, and finally, finally send word to the outside world, if not for aid, then at least for the sake of truth. All they learned, all they suffered—perhaps it had more worth than she thought. No matter the spin, at least the galaxy would hear the truth about little Nome.
The chant changed tone and syntax, shadows again falling from overhead, darting back and forth beyond the walls—maybe a minute longer, maybe now. Arm’s length from her city’s deity, a silhouette approached within the thinning haze. Nicky. He’d won, survived as well.
The figure became a blur. A long leg kicked forward, striking Jessica in her breastplate. Her controls wouldn’t respond. She crashed onto her back, connection bar knocked down a heavy chunk.
“The fuck, Nicky!” Had he been invaded? Jessica looked from the monitor to the unmoving bot.
“What is it?” He said between the grating of metal on metal. He still battled Hester. Then who?
“Shannon!”
On her knees, she saw his eyes open wide in shock, his hands shaking, reaching for his lower back—for the dagger buried to the hilt. The silhouette stood revealed: a lightly dressed woman, tan skin showing below the knees, elbows and chest. Long-limbed and toned, her head was concealed crown to shoulder, wrapped in a scarf that wound into a turban. Her robe-folded gi tossed at the hem, sand-brown and matching her skin-tight shorts.
Avci Agiz. Hunter’s Blade. A nomadic clan of assassins that became notorious during the real Apocalypse Eternal on Venus a thousand years ago. They dominated the underworld and were a favorite tool of warring politicians due to their heavy cybernetics. While they'd been executed to extinction, their legend lived on in fiction. What was she, a trump card? Perhaps Hester called for back up.
Blood dribbled down her fingers as she t
wisted her dagger. Shannon jerked, grimacing, one hand on the silver cord, the other summoning a dull light. She punched him in the head, flattening him. She straddled his back and stabbed again, an inch to the side.
Jessica screamed for Nicky and stumbled to her feet. Bunny fell from the sky, cheeks puffed as he landed on the assassin’s shoulders. A simple shrug and the rabbit spun airborne. His fireball arced into the tree. The blaze shimmered out, both birds and leaves unharmed.
“Back,” she said, her accent too thick and foreign to pin down. “You watch.”
“Like hell!” Jessica threw herself forward, sword thrusting.
The assassin blocked with her dagger, the cast-off blood spattering metal plates. Jessica flew sideways, but righted herself for a back swing. The dagger’s pommel slammed her faceplate—a throw—knocking her on her ass before the blade impossibly bounced back into the woman’s hand. A third thrust into Shannon’s back. He cried out.
“You like him hurt? No more fight.”
Jessica seethed, again shouting for Nicky. Maybe he’d finally been defeated. Maybe by another Avci Agiz. What should she do? What could she?
The assassin reached for the silver cord, its end tight at Shannon’s fist. She snatched the line, twisting, snapping his wrist before he let go. Start to finish, the cord darkened, tarnished to a muted green. The robins dropped off their perch and fell to earth. Jessica bit her lip. Her hands trembled on the controls.
In fluid motion, the assassin unsheathed the dagger from his back and slit his throat. The blood spray bounced off the dirt in dust-coated pellets.
Nicky charged through the last vestiges of haze, Hester swinging at his back. The latter skidded to a halt. Her friend dashed onward. The woman stood from Shannon’s inert body and flipped the blade into her palm. She raised it to her shoulder.
Anatali: Ragnarok Page 21
