Age of Heroes (28 page)

Above his head Sasha was holding a bronze helmet with a nose protector, tapered cheek guards and a pointed crown. It seemed like something any Hellenic soldier might have worn in battle, an unremarkable piece of armour made of humble beaten alloy – and yet it exuded a strange dark radiance, a feeling of oppression and claustrophobia, like a sky heavy with thunderclouds.

Sasha dropped it neatly back onto the man’s head. Tendrils of blackness shot down from the helmet, enveloping him, and he vanished. There was just an empty space where he had been.

She lifted the helmet off, and both it and the man popped back into visibility.

He was wide awake now, and anxious. His eyes focused on the four demigods and he began to babble in Russian. Theo knew some of the language, but the man was speaking too rapidly for him to understand everything he was saying, and anyway he kept stumbling over his words and stuttering. The gist seemed to be that he was ashamed. He was begging for forgiveness. He had done something wrong. Please don’t hurt him.

Sasha, in fluent Russian, told him to take a deep breath, calm down, put his thoughts in order, then start talking again.

The man did his best. He said he was sorry; he should not have used the helmet. It was forbidden. For generation after generation in his family, there had been one key rule: you never put the helmet on. You kept it safe, you told no one about it, but above all you never ever put it on.

But now look at him. He was the last of his line. Gennady Ulyanov, the last of the Ulyanovs of Novy Tolkatui. The last man still living in Novy Tolkatui, period. All alone. No wife, no children, no family, nothing. Stuck here while everyone else had left. Stuck because of his duty to look after the helmet. This had been the Ulyanovs’ solemn, sacred responsibility since as far back as anyone could remember. Since Novy Tolkatui was just plain Tolkatui. Since before that, when it was a clearing in the forest inhabited by a tribe of elk herders. Since the day, way back at the dawn of time, when a traveller had come from far, far away and left the helmet with the tribe’s chieftain, with strict instructions that it be kept hidden for all time.

From father to first-born son, the secret of the helmet had been passed down along the family line. Through wars and empires and conquests and pogroms. Then came
glasnost
and
perestroika
. The villagers, liberated from the yoke of Communism, feeling freer than at any time they could remember, began to migrate to the towns, the cities. One by one they went until in the end only Gennady – stalwart, unswerving Gennady – remained.

That was eleven years ago, and not long afterward Gennady had broken with tradition and started using the helmet when he went hunting for food. How much easier it was to sneak up on a deer or a rabbit when his prey could not see him. And there was no one around to tell him not to do it. No one to know what the helmet could do, how it miraculously masked the wearer from sight. Just him. The only living soul in this great wilderness. Until now.

Theo wondered why Odysseus had chosen to use human beings, this once, to protect an artefact. Did he run out of inspiration? More likely he just didn’t consider the Helm of Darkness to be as dangerous as the rest. It wasn’t bladed or pointed. It wasn’t something for bashing or smashing. It was a passive weapon, and of the twelve, least consequential to him; and so he had expended the least effort on securing it.

“So you were out hunting,” he said to Gennady, “and you spotted us and decided to follow us, using the helmet’s power?”

“That’s right. That’s right. I was curious. Your helicopter made such a din. ‘Gennady,’ I said to myself, ‘who has come to Novy Tolkatui? Who has come to your village, where no one but you has set foot for many a year?’ I had to see for myself. And then, as I was tracking you through the trees...” He tipped his head in Sasha’s direction. He was so tightly bound, it was the only part of his body he could move. “This woman came. Out of nowhere. Somehow she found me even though she could not see me.”

“Wasn’t hard,” Sasha said with a shrug. “No disrespect, Gennady, but your personal hygiene leaves something to be desired. I just followed my nose.”

“An arm around my neck. I remember nothing after that. I blacked out. And now you, all of you,” said Gennady, “you want the helmet. You were not surprised by it. By what it is capable of. You knew already its power. You have come for it.”

“We have,” said Theo. “I know you’ve been entrusted with its care, but...”

“No. No. Please. I insist you take it. Do. Then I can at last be rid of it.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” Gennady’s gaunt face brightened with joy. “Don’t you realise what this means? I am... free! I can leave this goddamned shithole village. I can go somewhere – anywhere. I can have fun. Meet people. Get a girl. My life can start! At forty-one years of age, Gennady Ulyanov finally can
live
.”

“So you’re saying we’d be doing you a favour?”

“How can I stop you making off with the helmet? Even if I wasn’t tied up like this, there are four of you, one of me. There is only so much I can do to prevent it being stolen. Only so much I am capable of. I am supposed to be willing to sacrifice my life to keep it safe, but fuck that. Take the damn thing. Take it with my blessing. It has only ever been a burden. I have just one small request.”

“What’s that?”

“May I have a lift? If you can find room for me in your helicopter, take me with you. Drop me off wherever you like. Anywhere is better than here. Please?”

O
UT OF
G
ENNADY’S
earshot and eyeline, they discussed his fate.

Sasha was all for killing him. He knew too much. She would make it quick: grab his head, twist it around on his neck. He wouldn’t feel a thing.

Theo strongly objected. The man deserved a break. All those years on his own. The last in a long line of protectors for the Helm of Darkness. It was only fair that Gennady got some sort of reward for that. Besides, who would believe him if he told them about the Helm? He would come across as half-crazed.

Sasha relented, reluctantly. As a compromise, she said that Gennady would not travel with them, but he could have the rented trail bike she had used to get to Novy Tolkatui. It was parked a couple of miles away. She went to fetch it while the villager, now released from the rope tying him, gathered up his few meagre belongings. She showed him how to ride it, and told him the name of the street where he could find the rental agency in Krasnoyarsk, instructing him to deposit the bike back there.

Gennady was thrilled. Grinning toothlessly, he set off along the track on the bike. He crashed almost immediately, but he was back in the saddle in a trice and speeding off once more, full throttle.

“If he gets to Krasnoyarsk without killing himself,” said Chase, “it’ll be a fucking miracle.”

“That might be my plan,” said Sasha.

T
HEY WALKED TO
the helicopter, four of them now, Chase with the Helm of Darkness tucked into his backpack. He treated it with a proprietorial air. It was his; he should carry it.

The pilot and co-pilot were startled to learn that they were now expected to take an extra passenger. First, a man had emerged from the forest on a trail bike. Then this. Where had the Westerners found the woman, out here where nobody in their right mind went? What was going on?

Chase expanded on his television-documentary story. By coincidence, they had run into a fellow location scout. What were the chances? And her motorbike had been stolen by that man, so she needed a lift home.

The pilot and co-pilot were unconvinced, but a stunning-looking woman was a stunning-looking woman, however dubious her provenance. There was, anyway, plenty of room for her in the cabin. An Mi-8 could seat twelve; she would add a little weight, but not enough to throw out their fuel calculations. Welcome aboard!

As the helicopter took off, Theo cast a sidelong look at Sasha. He was a little less enthusiastic. He couldn’t tell if she had joined them for the duration, as a fourth member of the team, or was merely hitching a ride and would desert them once they got to Krasnoyarsk. She herself hadn’t made it clear and, being long accustomed to doing exactly as she pleased and answering to nobody but herself, felt no compunction to. A queen never explained – or excused – her actions.

And for all her claims to the contrary, Sasha Grace was still a queen. The way she sat in her seat, she made it look like a throne, lap-belt and plastic upholstery notwithstanding. The way she held her head erect, you could imagine a crown perched on it rather than a set of ear defenders. There was regality in her posture, her every gesture.

Danger, too. Theo didn’t trust this woman any further than he could throw her. For as long as Sasha Grace stayed with them, he would be keeping a very close eye on her.

TWENTY-TWO

Krasnoyarsk

A
FTER THE
M
I
-8 landed at the heliport on the outskirts of Krasnoyarsk, Sasha gave no indication that she had anywhere else to go. She accompanied Theo, Chase and Salvador in a taxi to their hotel, which stood among the concrete high-rises in the city centre. Only when she checked herself into a vacant room did it become apparent that, for better or worse, she was remaining with them. The one-time ruler of the Amazons did not deign to divulge why or for how long; she told them she was going upstairs to take a shower and have a rest, and they would meet up for dinner later to discuss things.

“What’s her angle?” Chase asked as Sasha disappeared into the elevator. “What does she want?”

“To help?” Theo ventured.

“Then why the damn hell doesn’t she say so?”

“Because she has dignity. Or arrogance, which she thinks is dignity.”

“I dislike her,” Salvador said. “And that has nothing to do with the fact that she and I have history.”

“It’s got everything to do with the fact that she and you have history,” said Chase. “There’s no other reason. You nearly killed her for that girdle.”

“She nearly killed me too,” Salvador retorted. “It was a close-run thing.”

“Still, history. She’s not the bygones type and neither are you.”

“She’s seriously upped her game since,” said Theo. “She was always badass, but today she barely broke a sweat subduing you two. It was almost indecent, how easy she made it look.”

“It wasn’t fair.” Salvador rubbed the back of his neck, where a large bruise had formed. “She played dirty.”

Chase nodded in sympathy. “I could have taken her. I only didn’t because you told me not to, Theo.”

“Sure, sure.”

“It’s true. So you reckon it’s okay that she continues to tag along with us?”

“I think she could be an asset,” Theo said. “I think there are worse people I could have by my side. But,” he added, “I think there are better people I could have at my back, if you get my drift.”

T
HEY WENT OUT
for dinner as a foursome that night, just as Sasha decreed. Theo saw it as an opportunity to probe her gently and gauge her motives and intentions. The concierge at the hotel recommended a restaurant on the Yenisei embankment with a terrace overlooking the river. “Best Siberian cuisine you will ever eat,” he told them, and the food
was
good, especially the beef dumplings and the sturgeon broth, although the aspic-covered meat jelly was more of an acquired taste.

Sasha remained aloof and tight-lipped for much of the evening, but Theo nonetheless managed to prise a few nuggets of information out of her. Currently she ran a personal security service for high net-worth women – business executives, movie stars, supermodels, trophy wives. Based in London, with branches in Los Angeles, Moscow and Dubai, it was called Wonder Women and it supplied close protection details for clients who preferred not to have a hulking male goon hanging around them the whole time. Sasha’s employees were skilled in combat and the use of small arms, and were attractive and well groomed and could therefore blend in better with the client’s lifestyle. They were inconspicuous, and that made them more effective. Quite often, Sasha said, client and bodyguard formed a personal bond, the latter becoming as much sister as protector, which she found heartening and gratifying.

“So once again you’re head of a band of warrior women,” Theo said, “only now the title’s CEO rather than ‘your majesty’.”

Sasha was obscurely, royally amused. “Not badly put.”

“Don’t these Wonder Women of yours need you right now?”

“The company can manage without me for the time being. I have efficient subordinates who know the workings of the business as well as I do. I keep in constant touch. I don’t have to be in the office to supervise.”

Theo decided to go for broke. “I suppose what I want to know is how long you’re –”

At that moment a gaggle of other diners in the restaurant, local young professionals, came up to the demigods’ table brandishing phones. Once of them, elected spokesman by the rest, tapped Chase on the shoulder.