Babel Found (14 page)

Camp Arifjan, Kuwait

I slowly backpedal as Susanoo steps out of the surf. The Judge is no longer human—if he ever was one. His overall body is a slap in the face, taking me back to the priests in the Atlantean necropolis.

He’s easily seven feet tall, not quite as big as the priests, but close enough. He’s tall and lean, but no doubt incredibly strong. He has no mouth as well, just like the hero triplets. But that’s where the similarities end.

For instance, his skin is blue, like the deep waters of the ocean, and he has scales running over his entire body like a fish. They glimmer in the sun, looking frail, but are no doubt as tough as my own Kevlar armor. Next, they mixed with harder looking skin. It reminds me of a crocodile’s, coming to a point as they climb his outer arms, ending at his shoulders. Also, his hands and feet are clawed and webbed, perfect for swimming—and slashing. My eyes climb his body, stopping on his armor covered chest. Then, they continue up his neck, settling on his face.

“Very few have seen my true form, Mr. Boyd,”
Susanoo
says.
His mouthless face tells me he’s communicating in the same manner as the priests did, telepathically.

His two massive lifeless black eyes, settle on me, stirring my bladder. They radiate hatred and loathing, squinting slightly as he gazes my way. And unlike the priests, who had long flowing blonde hair, Susanoo is bald, minus the mix of scales and armored ridges that crest the center of his skull like a stubby Mohawk.

“You look like
Ariel
did it with the
Creature from the Black Lagoon
,” I say, thinking aloud.

Oops…

The sea demon’s eyes squint harder, none-to-pleased with my jab. I honestly didn’t mean to antagonize the thing any more than he already is, but I couldn’t help it.

Damnit, Hank. Good going.

“Why don’t you look like the others—the three priests I mean?”

He grumbles.
“Our parents were not pure of heart, or blood, when we were conceived. Our blood runs the same as theirs did. Yes, the ‘Three’ were disfigured due to the elixir given, as were we, but our unnatural parentage had a more pronounced effect. Our external appearance took on our individual personas.”

Really? Can’t wait to see the other Judges…

“So naive,”
he says, seeing my inner struggle to understand everything.
“We have been around as long as history itself. We are the things of legend, the inspiration of myth.”

“So the mermaid thing was an actual account of you?” I ask.

He nods
. “I may have been seen in this form once or twice before by ancient mariners. Most thought their stories outlandish—”

“No kidding…” I comment.

“But yes, most of the legends do have a sprinkling of truth within them.”

“Like Atlantis.”

He bows, pleased
. “Some of the survivors of An’tala may have let their tongues slip on occasion as the years went by. But again, who would believe such a tale?”

“No one,” I reply. “Only the nut jobs would believe it and thus be ridiculed, keeping your secret safe and labeled a myth.”

“Until you,”
he points a jagged finger at me,
“stumbled upon the necropolis’ entrance.”

“Technically,” I say, holding up a finger, “that wasn’t me. We were brought there.”

“No matter how or why,”
Susanoo says, stepping forward again.
“The only thing that matters is that you were there and that you obtained your gifts.”

Huh?

“Why is that important?” I ask, getting a really bad feeling.

“Because,”
he says, smiling in his thoughts,
“you are the only other being powerful enough to activate the Source Stone.”

“The what?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he charges, bringing with him the shallows of the Persian Gulf.

I brace for impact and ready myself for a fight, but neither one happens. Instead, I’m lifted off the ground from underneath. He used the water in the wet sand! I’m tossed again, over the fence, just clearing the razor wire coiled around its top. My uniform snags and rips, causing only cosmetic damage. Thankfully, the armor underneath takes the brunt of my hard impact as I slam to the asphalt and roll, covering my head with my hands.

Could have used a helmet like before
, I think, recalling the similar battle suits we wore in D.C.’s Union Station.

Battle suit…

I reach up to the rear of my fatigue’s collar and yank the cord connecting the outer layer to my protective armor underneath. There’s a slight pressure buildup and then a
poof
sound as my jacket and pants burst off, revealing my BSA. It’s jet-black and padded, just like the armor from D.C. But like everything else, Todd has upgraded this as well. My weapons, strategically attached around the partitions, stay put, giving me a much-needed break from my powers. I unsling my AA-12 shotgun and quickly send a barrage towards the airborne mer-king.

He grunts as he lands, shielding his face with an armored arm. I think I may have even injured him, sending one of my slugs into his softer looking armpit area. I pause as I see the blood…black blood. Evil to the core. Unfortunately for me, it didn’t really cause much other damage.

I stupidly continue my ceasefire and watch as the wounds clot, but don’t really heal. I may have injured him minutely, but I’d say he’s closer to full strength than not.

He lets me know by gurgling a throaty growl and advancing further, doing a damn fine gymnastic routine the entire time. I get off another six or seven shots before he gets too close, forcing me to dive out of the way as he slashes out. Instead of hitting me, he swats my shotgun away. It easily slips from my wet hands and I watch as it slides across the soaked tarmac.

Shit.

I stand and raise my fists in a classic boxer stance, ready for the next wave of attacks. They come fast and hard and I do my best to block and parry them only igniting my fists when I throw a punch or have to defend myself—which is often. The quick bursts don’t have much of an effect on my stamina, but they do trade off in power and effectiveness. They still hurt Susan though, like I was fighting an average human.

I land a solid jab to his elevated chin, causing his skin to steam and his head snaps back. As he rocks back, his right hand comes up and slashes across my chest, gouging the ultra-resistant material.

Right,
I think, slapping away another slash,
get close, but don’t get ‘too’ close. Get inside his range.

The padding in my forearms takes the brunt of the attacks in stride like Kane would do with his titanium arm braces. The only other weapons I have include my useless Glock and—

Damnit!
I completely forgot about another of the new additions, specifically built for an event such as this. I roll away and take off in a sprint, deeper into the compound, seeing an absolutely massive tornado approach from the west. I chance a glance up and see a brilliant display of firepower as six attack choppers let fly with an assortment of missiles.

Remembering that I’m in my own fight, I continue my fake retreat and weave in and out of a group of parked hummers, reaching back and ripping off a pouch attached to the small of my back. I quickly reach into it and pull out a set of matching black gloves, but they aren’t
just
another fashion accessory.

Susan comes vaulting over the nearest truck as I secure them in place. I turn and blindly swing, igniting the orichalcum-made claws affixed to my gloved fingertips. They catch Susan in the stomach and slice a clean set of grooves, burning him as they quickly enter and exit his midsection.

He shrieks in pain as he leaps away, holding his wrecked abdomen. I watch as he frantically checks the severity of his wounds, but they aren’t anything to worry about. Unless I get in really close and dig deep into his flesh, the small tips won’t eviscerate him. But he does look up with worry. It’s etched all over his mutated face. Even his body language says it. He no longer stands tall and boastful, thinking of me as a weaker foe. We’re equals and he knows it.

The feeling of victory only lasts a second, though. Susan screams a battle cry in my head and charges. He, like me, will go down fighting if it comes to it and from the look in his alien-like eyes, he’s about to prove my supposition right.

We charge together, hacking and slashing each other to bits. I let him land most of the blows to my body, trusting in Todd and Kane’s design to protect me.

Susan goes high, aiming for my face, but his reach is overextended and I counter by easily ducking and throwing a flaming uppercut into his chin. He gets tossed back onto the hood of the nearest hummer, dazed.

I’m about to advance but start to feel dizzy. I’ve been fighting longer than I ever have while using my gifts. I need to end this soon and rest. I glance up and watch Susan slide down from the ruined truck.

Exactly what I thought, no rest.

I bend at the knees, trying to loosen up my quickly cramping legs. When I do, I feel the small cylindrical object in my pocket again. I know what I need to do and it’s going to suck…a lot. Probably hurt like hell too.

Susan launches himself at me and I let him. He digs his clawed fingers into my padded shoulders, piercing them. I feel him draw a small amount of blood, but pay it no attention.

“You ever been to a fish fry?” I ask.

He looks down at me as I quickly latch onto his sides. I don’t let him answer. I push with all my might and combust the both of us into a flaming inferno, screaming like a banshee the entire time. His shrill cry echoes mine in my head as he begs and pleads for me to release him, but I push even harder, blowing past my known threshold.

My eyes again start to dance and my breathing goes shallow, but I push one final time and direct the flow of energy into my hands. As he lets go of me, I do the same to him, sending him spiraling into the air, back towards the choppy sea. I immediately collapse, trying my best to dig into my back pocket.

Finding my saving grace, I fumble with the cap, eventually popping it off.

This is what has me so unsettled. A small but very sharp needle greets me, making me break out in a nervous sweat. I really
hate
needles. This particular one is meant for something even worse than drawing blood.

I plunge it into my neck, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood. The payload of liquid adrenaline is instantaneously delivered into my blood stream, getting the desired effect. I scream as my body quivers, shaking from the drug spiking my blood flow.

After a few seconds, I unsteadily get to my feet and look up as another of the choppers whizzes by overhead. Then, I hear twin explosions and watch as two fall from the sky, on fire, dropping like stones. The Blackhawk banks sharply, nearly avoiding a lightning bolt. It originated from inside the twister, just like Nannot used to do.

Damnit,
I think,
get out of there.

I’m about to voice my concern through my comms, but don’t get the chance. Instead, a hole opens up beneath my feet and I drop, going for the ride of my life down the darkest and bumpiest waterless slide ever
created.
I try to signal for help, but as my head passes the entry hole, it quickly seals, cutting me off from any possible help.

Camp Arifjan, Kuwait

Everyone inside the Blackhawk looked on in awe as a series of lightning bolts discharged from within the storm. One nearly struck the closest of the Vipers, causing it to turn away sharply. Then, one-by-one, the missiles fired only moments ago began to detonate.

“Seriously,” Kane asked rhetorically, watching as more and more lightning strikes met the incoming missiles, “he’s knocking them out of midair?”

“Holy shit!” One of the other pilots shouted over the radio. “We need to fall back!”

Kane saw his uncle shake his head in disappointment, but not at the men. The situation as a whole was what bothered him. They had enough firepower to level a small city with just the attack helos. One
man
should have been easy to take down.

“Try something harder for him to hit,” Kane said from his position behind the .50 cal.

Carrack looked back and saw the weapon and nodded, quickly relaying the suggestion.

“Roger that,” another of the pilots said, “going in for a sweep.”

Two other Vipers confirmed and followed the first, all going in guns blazing. The attack choppers 20mm M197 Gatling cannon was like an airborne chainsaw, spewing up to 1500 rounds per minute. Everyone watched from behind as the three helo’s cannons burst to life, raking across the front of the cyclone. But from their distance, they couldn’t see if they were doing anything worth a damn.

“Report,” Carrack said, watching as they did.

“Not much to say, sir,” the lead pilot replied. “So far we aren’t making much of a dent. Some of the rounds are making it through, but we can’t get close enough to lay into him harder. The lightning is getting worse too.”

Kane poked his head out the side door and saw exactly that. A bolt sizzled over one of the Vipers, causing it to bank right. Another hit home and obliterated the main rotor of the second closest chopper. The top-mounted engine exploded, sending deadly shrapnel everywhere. Then, all at once, the aircraft fell from the sky, dead in the air.

They could all hear the shouted cries of the men on board. Mercifully, Kane saw the canopy explode and the pilots jettison themselves into the air, via ejection seats. The out-of-control helicopter smashed to pieces, turning into a fireball upon impact.

As quickly as the first one was destroyed, another was struck, its tail rotor blowing apart. With the stabilizing rear rotor, it was sent into a dizzying spin as it too fell to the earth below. Unfortunately, that one’s cockpit stayed intact as the Viper slammed into the side of the command building. The pilots didn’t make it.

Another flash of light drew Kane and Nicole’s gaze down to the ground. They expected to see a similar helo exploding, but instead saw something smaller, but just as deadly.

A green aura burst from between rows of military hummers. The fact that the wave missed this grouping of vehicles wasn’t what caught their attention. It was Hank. They continued watching as a charred body got flung back towards the water, landing violently somewhere on the sandbar. As the Blackhawk fell back, away from the ever increasing storm, Hank came into view. Now directly above him, they could see him trying to stand, but looked to be having trouble.

“
Jarvla!”
Nicole cursed, pointing down. “We need to help him!”

Kane followed her finger and saw it. Hank quickly jabbed something into his neck, causing an instantaneous reaction. He jumped to his feet but didn’t do much else. Just standing was a miracle and it looked painful. They all knew the cost of using his power to that magnitude.

“He’ll be fine,” Carrack said from the co-pilot’s seat. “Just a little pick-me-up.”

Nicole looked at Kane. “Adrenalin injection,” he said, not going into it further.

They both continued to watch Hank as he stood and looked their way. Then, he was gone, falling into a hole that wasn’t there before.

As Nicole screamed Hank’s name, Kane watched the void quickly fill. The only evidence of a disturbance was a patch of missing asphalt. Now, only a circle of dirt was left.

“Hank!”

“We need to get there, now!” Nicole yelled, unclipping and heading for the cockpit. “Get us on the ground as—”

A flash of light and a resounding boom interrupted her as the Blackhawk pitched hard, throwing her to the rear holds floor once again. She slid all the way to the right-side door, desperately clawing at the smooth metal flooring. But her fingernails found no purchase, having kept them short for years.

Her legs fell away as the sky around them billowed and blustered with more wind. The shaking aircraft made it impossible to find a foothold this time and as a result, her waist and chest were next, continuing her departure. She tried one last time to find something to grasp, but couldn’t as she was sucked out into the open air.

But instead of fearing her own death, all Nicole could think about was Hank.

Somewhere

I awake with a moan, feeling my head throb. I’m literally up to
here
with waking up in pain or fright—most of the time both. It’d be nice to just once awake relaxed and refreshed, but now is not the time to be so hopeful. Not about things I don’t have control over.

Like this damn hole… Speaking of which.

“Try not to move,” a voice says in the dark. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

The voice is familiar—not in the normal way, however. It isn’t one I’ve heard, but one I was told about.

“Terra?” I ask, seeing a shadow move off to my left.

“How?” she asked, shocked that I know her name.

Still on my back, I gingerly lean up on my elbows. “You left quite the impression on a colleague of mine.”

The form steps closer. I try to activate my night vision, but can’t find my glasses. So instead, I ignite a small and easy to control flame, about the same effectiveness as a cheap keychain flashlight. It’s just bright enough to see by and won’t sap me of any of my strength. I look down and see my NVS4’s on the ground next to me bent and broken.

Damn.

“Todd?” she asks, getting my attention.

I nod not caring whether or not my kidnapper can see it or not.

She steps closer, revealing herself to me in the flesh. She’s beautiful, like an Italian swimsuit model, but her demeanor is mousy and timid. She’s not comfortable with what she’s doing or where she is.

Or she’s not comfortable being around me.

“Why did you just bury me alive?” I ask, sitting up.

“You’re not dead, Mr. Boyd. We’re quite safe down here.”

I look back and forth, only seeing walls around us. The space is about the size of a two car garage and perfectly round. It’s an odd shape to me and the look on my face must portray that.

“A sphere is very strong and easy to create,” she explains, inching closer. “I do not have to concentrate as hard in order to make one.”

“You did this?” I ask, already knowing she did. I just need her to keep talking while I recuperate and think of a plan. I notice that she isn’t as focused on the task. It actually sounds like she’s enjoying talking to me right now.

Not at all like her siblings
, I think, remembering that she did save Todd in the end.

“Also Washington,” she said, looking hurt.

“Why?” I ask, sitting up.

“The master isn’t someone you say no to.”

“You’re scared of him?” I ask, honestly interested in knowing why.

“Yes,” she says, only a few feet away now. “We all are.”

“Even Susan?”

Her eyes squint. She doesn’t get the nickname for her brother.

But it soon registers and she smiles and nods. “He is the one in contact with the master. We see the pain and anguish he feels when the master connects to his mind.”

Interesting…

“So he only contacts him?”

She nods again but squints. “Why do you care?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure he’ll be doing much of that anymore.”

“What did you do to him?” she asks, more out of curiosity than anger.

Feeling nothing hateful coming from her, I answer truthfully. “I may or may not have overcooked the filet.”

This gets a snort out of her.

“Is that funny to you?” I ask, confused at her reaction.

“Your humor is, yes. As far as the feelings I have for Susanoo…” She thinks for a second. “Do you have anyone you’re close with—any family member that you care about, but don’t really like?”

I nod. “We all have someone like that in our family trees I suppose.”

“I love my family, Mr. Boyd, but that doesn’t mean I support them in what they do. At one time I went along with their plans without thought, blind to the end results. It’s all I was ever taught. We were the strongest—his pupils. We were made to fight and destroy.”

“Made?” I ask, backing off on my plan to attack. I sit forward and listen, still trying to recover some. The fight with Susan really took it out of me and the adrenalin injection did nothing except keep me conscious. I’m still exhausted.

“We were an unusual birth—”

“Like your father and uncles—Thoth’s priests,” I say, connecting the ominous parallel.

She nods. “But unlike them, we were not taught to defend our homeland. We were taught to defile it.”

I blink hard and shake my head. “I…I don’t understand.”

“It’s hard to explain, but there is always evil in the world, Mr. Boyd. Our master has been behind most of it since the beginning of man’s first major leap. We were his next step in the downfall of An’tala, in case our father didn’t succeed.”

“Did he actually succeed?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Only in part. He failed when he met you.”

Oops.
So when I defeated Nannot, it caused
his
master to come after me himself, through the Judges.

I look into her sparkling eyes, and again, she shows no ill will towards me. It’s like she’s a completely different entity than her siblings. It’s unnerving and I’d normally never ask as much but…

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“We have your friend, Dr. Fehr.”

My eyes narrow and the flame in my right hand brightens slightly.

“I don’t want this, I swear it. I’ve spent time with humanity—hundreds—thousands of lifetimes. I’ve seen the beauty in your world. I do what I must so that I too, may live!”

I regain control and bring down the light some. Terra relaxes as well.

“I need you to come with me.”

I laugh aloud. “Why would I ever agree to that?” I know I could probably outmatch her. Formulating a plan, I look up and see only solid earth.

Shit.

“Because…” She looks me in the eyes again, showing me the hurt in hers. “Dr. Fehr will die unless you go to the Citadel.”