by Jeff Rovin
Shang Tsung asked the priest, “What have you done?” The wizard listened to the shrieks from the courtyard and the sickening thud of bodies slamming against the wall. Then he noticed that Kung Lao hadn’t repaired the breaks in the circle, and even as he watched, particles of powder were already rising high and then spinning downward in a glittering whirlpool.
“What have you done?” Shang Tsung screamed.
“No less than I promised,” Kung Lao said. “I sent Ruthay back to the Outworld, where he will revive.”
“What else!” the sorcerer demanded.
“Since I was already opening the doorway, I decided to send the rest of your servants back as well.”
“But you lied!” Shang Tsung growled. “A priest of the Order of Light went back on his word!”
“I did no such thing.”
“You said you didn’t know the words to enter the red aura!”
“And I didn’t,” said Kung Lao. “But I am well versed in Shaolin mysticism, Shang Tsung. I knew that you are a being of deceit and trickery, and that the prayer you gave me would enable you to send a soul to Shao Kahn and open the doorway to our world.”
There were several heavy splats against the outside wall of the shrine. The wall began to bulge inward.
“I simply spoke the prayer backward,” Kung Lao said, “which is the common way to reverse an occult process. By keeping the circle unclosed, I have enable all of your guests to return home.”
“No… not all!” Shang Tsung said desperately as he looked toward the wall, which was beginning to crack now. “Goro! Reptile!”
As he watched, small pieces of the wall fell off, then hunks, and then blocks flew in all directions as a sea of Salinas tumbled in, along with the animated flesh of the dead that was about to be rejoined with its multitude of souls and free them to journey to the black realm of death rather than damnation.
“Shang Tsung!”
The roar was heard even over the din of the vortex, as Goro’s huge shape came into view, his shoulder plowing through intervening walls, overturning chairs and tables, pulling down columns as he sought to stop his forward flight. Behind him came the struggling Liu Kang, who was still in his grasp, and Reptile.
“Shang Tsung – help us!”
The wizard brightened when he saw the captive member of the White Lotus Society.
“Goro, I’m here!” the wizard cried. “Hold on to Liu Kang! If you take him through, Shao Kahn will have his soul and return with all of you!”
As the giant was drawn into the shrine, Rayden and Scorpion both materialized in the room, facing Goro, their loins girded.
“No!” Shang Tsung cried. “You won’t stop him!”
With the last of his strength, the wizard stepped back into the screaming whirlwind. His long, white hair and rich robe were whipped round him as he stood there.
“Lord Kahn! Take the last of my soul to send these two elsewhere! Let my failure be your triumph! Send the red lightning to–”
Suddenly Goro and Reptile stopped moving.
Shang Tsung’s hair and robe settled around him in peaceful disarray.
The winds stopped and the dust of the circle settled to the floor like fine snow.
And Kung Lao took his fingers off the amulet, which glowed with cool fire.
“Shang Tsung,” said the priest, “there will be no more souls sent to Shao Kahn… not even yours. The door to the Outworld is closed.”
There was a moment of thick silence. It was broken when Kano stood.
“In that case, I’m outta here,” he said, vaulting through what used to be a wall and disappearing into the sunlight.
CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO
Despite her painful wounds and bloodied jaw, Sonya Blade got to her feet and ran after him.
Rayden and Scorpion faced the dazed Goro and Reptile, while Liu Kang managed to free himself from the loosened grip of the Outworlder and join his comrades.
“It’s over, wizard,” Kung Lao said to Shang Tsung.
Shang Tsung managed to put a little smirk on his long, shriveled face. “For now.”
“No!” said Kung Lao. “You have killed–”
“This is my island,” said the wizard. “My laws. I’ve broken none.”
“There are other laws,” said Liu Kang. “Laws of honor and decency.”
“I have lived for over one thousand and five hundred years, my White Lotus sprig. Don’t dare lecture me about honor and decency. I have seen them take many forms, be interpreted in many ways. Some people say that the decent are merely those who have accepted what is, while the indecent are those who try to change it.” Shang Tsung looked at Rayden. “Others say that decency is worshiping one god, while indecency is the worshiping of another. Who is to say what’s right?”
“The winner,” said Scorpion. “And from where I’m standing, that looks like us.”
“Does it?” asked Shang Tsung. “Have you accomplished what you set out to do? Have you destroyed Sub-Zero? Show me his heart!”
Scorpion said nothing.
“Has Sonya Blade captured Kano? Does Shao Kahn still wield supreme power in the Outworld?” Shang Tsung smiled. “You have won nothing, little man. You’ve merely delayed me. I have time and I have resources, and I will find a way to get what I want.”
Liu Kang sidled up to the Thunder God. “Rayden! Will you permit this villain to go free?”
The deity said, “We have no choice.”
Liu Kang said, “But they’re weak! We can beat them – all of them!”
“Were we to take their lives or break Shang Tsung’s law,” said Rayden, “we would be no better than they are.”
“I can live with that,” said the White Lotus warrior, “as long as they’re out of circulation!”
Rayden said knowingly, “We have not come this far, or fought so hard, to remake the world to our taste, but to stop them from doing the same.”
Liu Kang kicked a chunk of rubble on the ground. “But the man is crazy, Rayden! He’ll only try this again!”
“You’re wrong again, lad,” said Shang Tsung. “I will not try this again.” His eyes went from one hero to the next. “I’ve learned a great deal about my enemies, and I will most definitely not try this again. The next time we meet, all of us, it will be in a more traditional way.”
Liu Kang threw a series of high punches and uppercuts at the air in front of Shang Tsung, causing the wizard to step back.
“Mortal Kombat,” said the White Lotus warrior with a smug grin. “I look forward to that, warlock!”
“As do I,” said Shang Tsung.
With great effort, the exhausted wizard held his arms toward the break in the outer wall.
“In keeping with this exhilarating new spirit of détente,” he said, “I offer you the use of my vessel to return to shore. As for me, I’m tired and would very much like to take a long rest. Goro, Reptile – attend me.”
Turning, Shang Tsung left the battered shrine, followed by Goro and Reptile. The still-disoriented Outworlders stumbled through the wreckage, snarling and hissing at the Thunder God and his party as they passed.
When they were gone, Sonya Blade stormed through the shattered wall.
“I’ve lost him,” she huffed, burning off some of her surface rage by jump-kicking loose bricks from the gaping hole. “This island – it’s impossible to make sense of it.”
“This island?” said Liu Kang. “Hell, right now even the good guys don’t make sense to me!”
“I saw Kano go around the pagoda,” Sonya said, “and I chased him there. But when I arrived, he was behind me. And then he was gone, without a trace.”
“This place is strange,” said Kung Lao, “and one is forced to wonder whether it was the soul of the man that warped the island, or whether Shimura itself was evil and infected his soul.”
“I don’t worry about things like that,” said Sonya, still livid but under control. She watched Shang Tsung and his demons round a corner in the oddly curved corridor. �
��But I have a feeling Liu Kang is right. We’ll all be returning to this island before long.”
Scorpion said, “Not unless Sub-Zero is here. I’ll not rest until I’ve found him.”
“Hey may find you,” Liu Kang said. “He belongs to an evil ninja clan that doesn’t believe in waiting for enemies to come to them. Every one of those assassins is worse than the next.”
Scorpion’s eyes grew moist. “Not every one of them,” he said. “There was, once, a noble member of the Lin Kuei. A man who paid for that nobility with his life.”
“But who lives still in his son,” Rayden said, uncharacteristic compassion in the golden eyes.
Sonya gave one last roundhouse kick to a brick dangling from the top of the breach in the wall, then climbed back through.
“Right now,” Kung Lao said, “as much as I hate to say it, I agree with Shang Tsung.”
“You agree with the wizard?” Liu Kang said.
“Yes,” said the priest with a smile. “In one day, I have been a priest, a guide, a living fog, and a warrior. It is most definitely time to go home and take a nap.”
Rayden regarded the holy man. “There will be time enough for rest,” he said, “the long sleep to which all mortals eventually go. Before you close your eyes, there is one thing I wish for you to do.”
CHAPTER FOURTY-THREE
The village of Wuhu welcomed the return of their priest with an impromptu celebration, the inhabitants rushing into the streets and, after having raided their compost heaps, tossing fistfuls of animal bones at him.
Sonya and Liu Kang were walking behind him, with Scorpion trailing them both.
The Special Forces agent seemed bemused by the outpouring.
“Back in the States, we throw confetti,” she said, artfully employing a high block to knock away a pheasant breastbone headed toward her sore jawbone. “There’s less chance of getting hurt.”
“It also has no significance beyond the act of the throwing,” said Liu Kang. “This is the traditional Chinese way of saying that the people hope he will stay forever, that his own bones will be interred in the soil of Wuhu. Be glad that that is the custom in this village,” he grinned. “In some places, they throw the skin and viscera.”
“Yummy,” said Sonya.
She watched as the young and old ran and hobbled from the doors of their huts, all of them wearing big smiles, some crying with happiness, all of them joining the throng. And as she saw their joy, she felt that although she hadn’t been able to catch up with Kano, the day – the entire adventure – had not been wasted.
They had stopped Shang Tsung, she told herself, and she’d helped return Kung Lao to the bosom of the people who needed him. She actually felt a little jealous.
“The last time I went home to Austin, Texas,” she said, “a whole two people came over to talk to me when I was filling up the gas tank. One was a boyfriend I’d hoped to avoid, and another was a girlfriend whose George Strait CD I’d borrowed.”
“How would a hero’s welcome have made you feel?” Liu Kang asked.
“Self-conscious,” Sonya admitted. “Though part of me would probably like it.” She high-kicked a tossed drumstick over her head. “I guess it can only happen in places like this, though.”
Liu Kang nodded. “A small village where it’s the wisdom of the local priest that is held in high regard… not a global village where we hang on every word of radio commentators and television talk show hosts.”
As the quartet reached the Temple of the Order of Light, Kung Lao turned and faced his people, Sonya, Liu Kang, and Scorpion lined up behind him. The priest was still barefoot, still wearing just the robe in which he had set out, though now he also wore the amulet of the Thunder God around his neck.
Kung Lao smiled broadly when he saw Chin Chin make his way to the front of the small crowd, then raised his arms and spoke.
“The holy Chu-chi once wrote, ‘I felt obligated to go afar and ascend a famous mountain. Forsaking my family’s village and leaving disinterestedness behind, I undertook to cultivate thickets and to grow calluses on my hands and feet. They consider me mad. The divine process, however, does not flourish in the midst of the familiar.’”
Kung Lao smiled.
“Beloved people of Wuhu, my friends and I are humbled by your welcome. We have seen the unfamiliar, and have cultivated thickets of righteousness in a field of abomination. But with faith, we have triumphed.”
Sonya expected the people to cheer, but there was only reverent silence. She felt neither strange nor uncomfortable, though she tried to imagine an American politician delivering a tagline like that and being greeted with nothing more than the affection and continued attention of the people.
“When we faced the forces of the Outworld,” said Kung Lao, “we were blessed to have at our side the most sacred Thunder God. And before he left us to return to his holy mountain, Rayden charged me to do one thing for him”
Kung Lao paused, his sage eyes passing over the eager and loving faces of the villagers. His gaze settled upon Chin Chin.
“The Thunder God asked me to select an acolyte,” he said, “one whom I will personally train to become a priest in the Order of Light. A person who, in time, I will send forth to found a new temple. I ask that you, Chin Chin, be that new disciple.”
The youth looked as though he’d just seen one of his sheep climb a tree.
“M-master – are you sure you want me?” Chin Chin asked.
“It was Rayden himself asked for you,” said the priest. “He saw the courage with which you faced Kano’s men, and knows you will prove worthy of the task.”
“I would be honored,” Chin Chin said. “But I am an orphan, and without siblings. Who will tend my flock?”
“I will!”
Kung Lao peered into the crowd as Chin Chin and several other villagers turned.
All eyes settled upon a young man standing in their midst. He was slender but muscular, and carried a long pole on his shoulder; from the end of it hung a bulging black cloth. The young man had extremely sharp and angular features, thin black eyebrows, black hair pulled into a pair of ponytails, and black eyes that shifted and gleamed like small pools of oil.
When Kung Lao turned toward him, the young man held up a hand, palm out, to protect his eyes from the reflected sunlight of the amulet.
“I don’t know you, sir,” Kung Lao said.
“No, most reverend priest. My name is Samo Heung. I have only just arrived in Wuhu from Qiqihar, in the Great Khingan Range. I was a shepherd there until my village was destroyed by an avalanche. I have come south to make a new life for myself, away from the sad memories in the north, and I would like to be able to do that here – and also to find peace by worshiping at your temple.”
Kung Lao smiled. “You are most welcome, Samo Heung. We would be honored if you were to take Chin Chin’s flock.”
“For a price,” Chin Chin said. “A reasonable one,” he added under Kung Lao’s reproachful gaze.
“But of course.” Samo Heung bowed. Though his head was bent, his black eyes pierced the crowd, found Scorpion, and caught and held the fighter’s eyes.
Sonya simultaneously noticed the connection between them and felt a strange chill.
“Scorpion, do you know that man?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I feel as though I’ve met him somewhere.”
“He must feel it, too,” Liu Kang remarked, “the way he’s looking at you.”
The priest told the villagers to go back to their homes, and as they quietly disbursed, Scorpion hurried among them to talk to the dark-haired stranger.
Though it was just a short walk from the temple to where the man from the north had been standing, he was gone by the time Scorpion arrived. Moreover, no one had seen where he went.
“Pretty strange,” Liu Kang said as he reached Scorpion’s side. “You’d’ve thought he’d want to talk to you.”
Maybe he recognized Scorpion,” Sonya said as she arriv
ed, “and didn’t want to see him.” She regarded her masked companion. “Do you have any enemies?”
“Only one,” he said gravely. “A ninja with hate in his eyes, the power to come and go unseen… and the kind of courage that would never permit a direct confrontation.”
Sonya said, “It sounds like Wuhu just hired a ninja to be their new shepherd.”
“It may very well be,” said Scorpion. “Perhaps I’ll stay awhile to find out more about him.”
After bidding his two friends good-bye, Scorpion headed toward the brick building that served as Wuhu’s inn and post office.
When he had gone inside, Sonya turned to Liu Kang. “And I thought we were serious.”
“We are,” Liu Kang said. “You were pretty serious back at the island, kicking bricks and timber all over. And you didn’t exactly duck those bird bones that came your way.”
“I try to let my anger out,” she said. “If you keep it inside, like Scorpion does, you can make yourself sick.”
“And do you think you’ve gotten rid of your anger?” Liu Kang asked. “Or is it like Reptile’s venom – the more you spit, the more you make?”
Sonya looked pained. “Ask the priest,” she said. “He’s the one who sees into our souls. All I know is, Scorpion probably won’t get a good night’s sleep until Sub-Zero is dead. At least I’ll be well rested when I find that scum Kano.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Liu Kang said, “but Rayden was right: the big sleep comes soon enough. Maybe Scorpion knows what he’s doing.”
“Speaking of doing,” Sonya said, “what will you do now? Return to Hong Kong?”
Liu Kang nodded. “I have to find new recruits to replace the two men I lost here. I also want to check up on some people who fought in the last Mortal Kombat. See if any of them are still around, if they can tell me anything about it. Rayden may think we won this showdown, but the next time I meet Shang Tsung and his group, I don’t want them to be able to walk away. What about you?” he asked. “Will you stay here and look for Kano?”
