Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods (24 page)

             
The old cardinal became very attentive.  “What is this proof?” 

             
The Slayer quietly took out the data display from his robes.  “This will change your life,” he lied.  He didn’t expect the cardinal’s opinion to be swayed in the least.  But that wasn’t important.  “The disc in this display has proof that the Hierophant is involved in something sinister.”

             
Largo leaned closer.  “Please, go ahead.” 

             
Jae-Hoon fumbled with the display, putting up a good show.  “It’s not working, hang on.”  He fiddled with buttons, flipped switches, turned the machine off and on, running the whole gamut of tests that he knew would fail. The display was broken.  Dumah had seen to that personally.  It was part of the plan.

             
“What’s wrong with it?” asked Largo, in suspense.

             
“It’s nothing . . . I had a rough fall on my way here.  It must have damaged the display unit.”

             
“Can you pull the data disc out?  You could use my terminal as a display.”

             
Jae-Hoon tugged at the disc release, which he knew wouldn’t give either.  “I guess not, but I should be able to link my unit to another terminal.” 

             
“Be my guest,” said the cardinal.  He motioned to the secure terminal, believing himself to be mere moments away from learning everything he needed. 

             
Everything necessary to condemn the errant priest.

             
Jae-Hoon sat in front of the terminal.  “Thank you.  This may take a few minutes to transfer.”  He pulled the link cable from his robes and plugged it into the computer.

             
“Very well.  Would you care for something?  Tea or coffee?”

             
“Yes.  Tea, thank you.” 

             
Largo left the room, leaving him alone at the computer.  The cardinal must feel safe.  All the important files on the computer must be password restricted. 

             
Fortunately for Jae-Hoon, he wasn’t trying to access anything. 

             
He only had a few moments to find the public directory.  The heads of the Church made announcements via their secure terminals.  Information placed in these directories would be sent to library terminals throughout the upper city, and more importantly, to all the broadcasting stations throughout the planet. 

             
The second-class citizens are all too ready to revolt
, Dumah had explained when he rescued Jae-Hoon from jail. 
But the Karellan has many supporters among the first-class.  They will need some . . . persuasion . . . before we can act.

             
That had been Jae-Hoon’s mission this day.  Persuasion.  He only needed  . . .

             
The directory was right in front of him, as if set up on the computer, hungry for announcements. 

             
The Slayer quietly praised his luck, then checked the link with his data disc.  The Supervisor had provided him with a small program to bypass any password protection on the cardinal’s terminal.  Jae-Hoon ran the program on the directory, praying it would work quickly. 

             
Immediately he received the message, “Password Protection Not Enabled.” 

             
He was grateful.  Suspicious, but grateful.  Everything was working out better than he had hoped.  He initiated the download. 

             
“Everything working?” called Largo from the hallway. 

             
“Just fine.”

             
“And the transfers were copied?”  His voice was closer. 

             
“Just finishing up now.”

             
“Good.”  Largo was in the room with him.  Instead of tea cups, he held a gun.  “Then give me the data disc.  The police are on their way, and we can’t have that piece of evidence falling into their hands, now can we?” 

             
“Fine.”  He tossed the broken display unit to the cardinal.  “I don’t need it anymore.  In a few minutes, news stations all over the planet will have their own copies.” 

             
Confusion flashed on Largo’s face.  “Impossible.  I set my public directory under triple-password protected.” 

             
“You must have made a mistake,” said Jae-Hoon calmly.  Unafraid of the cardinal, he walked to the door. 

             
“You won’t get anywhere.  The police are bound to be here by now.” 

             
“Then they had better be more willing to shoot me than you are.” 

             
The priest left unhindered, but never saw the police.  Unknown to him or Father Largo, someone had intercepted the call. 

Chapter Sixteen: Underground City

              Deep under the earth, Jack clutched the bamboo bars of his prison. The rest of the group was sprawled out on the floor.  The prison guard sat nearby in his chair, asleep. 

             
“Hey, you coming to Rome?”  Jack said to himself, remembering the night before.

             
He turned his head and said, “Sure.  I’d love to check it out,” in mockery of himself.  “I’ve never been to Rome.  Sounds great.  Let’s all go and get buried alive with a narcoleptic barbarian.  Hey, Hagar!  How about waking up and passing the water!”  Instead of waking up, the guard snored louder.  Jack tugged at his bamboo prison, which moved less than the guard. 

             
“We can’t stay in here forever,” said Zeke.  “They’ll have to release us sooner or later.”  He hoped it would be “sooner.”  He had seen his fill of jail cells.

             
Jack ignored him.  “How did they get bamboo in Italy?” he mused to himself.

             
Ariel turned to Zeke.  “You have a plan?”

             
“Does bamboo even grow here?” the pilot ranted.  No one answered him.

             
“Didn’t it sound like they’re in trouble?”

             
“A little, yeah,” said Ariel.

             
“Like they’re being harassed by the Karellan and desperate for some information?”

             
“They’re under-supplied,” Daniel observed.  “Spears and skins to outfit their soldiers?  The only high-tech things in this whole city were those attack buggies.”

             
“They went all out on us,” noted Zeke.  “I think they were expecting more useful prisoners.”

             
Jack, still struggling with the bars, gave their cage a kick.  Nothing.  Except a bruised toe.  Frustrated, he sat down with the others. 

             
“They’re going to be disappointed,” said Ariel. 

             
“Unless we can help them,” Zeke suggested.  The others smiled at the idea. 

             
The pilot, however, did not.  “Not that I want to shoot down your plan, seeing as how it’s the only one we’ve got, but I think you’re forgetting that we’re trapped in a cage, have no weapons, and were nearly eaten by a fire-breathing dragon when we were both armed and free.  Could we, perhaps, work out a few more details?”

             
“You’re absolutely right,” said Zeke. 

             
Jack continued his rant.  “Dragons!  Forget the bamboo, what about the god damn dragon?  Since when did you find them in . . . what?  I’m right?” 

             
“Absolutely.  You might be loud and obnoxious, but you’re no fool.” 

             
The pilot quieted down.  “So you have any ideas?” 

             
“No.  To be honest, I’m stuck on the idea of dragons, too.”

             
“It was real, wasn’t it?”  Ariel sounded half-amazed and half-frightened. 

             
“I don’t understand it either,” confessed Daniel. 

             
“Micah once told me that the dragon was one of the most universal images in the world.  Some variation of it appears in nearly every mythology and folklore in historical memory,” explained Zeke. 

             
“So you think they were real?” 

             
“Obviously they’re real.  Until now, no one has ever been able to figure out how the concept of dragons became so widespread.” 

             
“I think we’ve solved that mystery,” Daniel said.  “But my question is; if they’re real, why hasn’t anyone seen them in thousands of years?”

             
“Here’s a better question,” said Jack.  “How the hell do we get out of here?” 

             
“I don’t know,” said Zeke, curling up in a corner of their cage.  “But I’m guessing it’s late by now.  Ask me again in the morning.”  The others agreed that they might think more clearly after resting, and they followed his lead. 

              “I’ve interrogated the prisoners,” reported Muriel. “They reported leaving a ship near the shore.” 

             
Gabriel sat on his throne, deep in thought. “Did you find it?” 

             
“Yes we did.  It was inoperable, but we set our mechanics to work on it.” 

             
“What was wrong with it?” 

             
“Is that relevant?”  Muriel asked, growing impatient with the report.

             
“If they
were
attacked by a malak, their ship would show signs of that battle.” 

             
She took a deep breath.  “There were no signs of a malak attack.  The ship had been hit with an electromagnetic pulse.”

             
“Interesting,” said Gabriel, half to himself.  He had heard tales about exceptionally powerful malak who are capable of manipulating electric energy.  But as far as he knew, they weren’t true.  Just children’s stories. 

             
“Father?” said Muriel, examining his face.  “Are you suggesting . . .”

             
“That they may be telling the truth?  We don’t have EMPs, and the Karellan wouldn’t shoot down his own ship.  I want to capture one of his soldiers as much as you, but desire alone won’t make it true.  We must be prepared to accept their story.”

             
Muriel was furious, but she knew it was unwise to display that emotion before her father and king.  “I understand,” was all she said.  She turned and marched away. 

             
“Muriel?”  Gabriel called.  She stopped.  “You’re a good daughter, and a devoted soldier.  Keep a guard on them, just in case.” 

             
“Yes sir.” 

             
Zeke advances on the church.  Micah is at his side, an old, beat-up sword slung across his back.

             
And he is also inside the church.  Hearing the sounds of two approaching armies, he kneels before the altar. 

             
Or does he? 
Who
is he? 

             
He kneels and crosses himself as the shooting starts. 

             
At the same time, he watches the Theocratic army start firing shells at them.  The captain shouts an order.  Micah raises his gun.  His old sword is no good in battle. 

             
The church shakes. 

             
“This isn’t right,” he thought.  “I wasn’t in the church.  What’s happening?” 

             
“Zeke?” came a disembodied voice.  Ariel. 

             
She
was in the church. 

             
People cower under pews, but Ariel keeps praying at the altar, showing no fear.  She is here for God, and no army in the world will stop her. 

             
Fire explodes.  Zeke is frightened.  His platoon is exposed in the open field. 

             
“Zeke, what’s happening?”  Ariel asked through the ether.

             
“We’re dreaming.”

             
The captain signals a charge.  Micah runs.  Zeke follows. 

             
A mortar shell lands near the church and an entire row of stained glass windows shatter.  Glass rains inside. 

             
“Dreaming?  What?  How?”

             
“I don’t know.”

             
The strange voice fills their heads.  “She can exist here through you.  She is important, though there are none who know that yet.” 

             
The priest bolts out from his hiding place under a pew.  He runs for the back door.  “Stop!” Ariel yells.  He doesn’t listen.  He tears the door open and leaves.

             
Zeke watches as something catches the Theocratic soldier’s attention.  A man runs out from behind the church.  A priest.  Micah runs for him.  Zeke follows.  But the Theocratic soldiers are closer, and the church is their objective. 

             
The battle is loud.  He can’t pick out the individual gunshot that takes down the priest.  The man simply falls.

             
Ariel, however, hears one shot louder than the others.  She knows the priest has fallen.  She feels it.  She adds another name to her prayers. 

             
Then the church explodes. 

             
Glass and brick rains down from all sides.  Smoke  and fire billow out.  The shockwave from the explosion throws him and Micah to the ground.  Ariel’s concentration is broken and she dives under the sturdy altar.  The Theocratic army flees into the woods, their objective complete. 

             
They got up slowly.  Gunshots faded into the distance. Their platoon, pursuing their enemies, left them behind at the church. 

             
The church!
he thinks.
  The people inside.
  He felt Ariel, lying beneath the rocks.  But this was just a memory.  He had no control over it.  Instead of saving her, he ran over and started pulling rubble out from the pile. 

             
“No, don’t start with the edges.  The people would be inside,” Micah instructed.  Zeke ran up the pile and began throwing rocks into the grass. 

             
Light shone through a hazy darkness.  The blurred form of Micah appeared, throwing boulders as if they were pebbles.  His face came into focus. 

             
Zeke felt embarrassed about sharing Ariel’s emotions with her. 
Looking at Micah, through her eyes, he saw the change immediately.  He looked down at her with an affection Zeke had never known. 
Although he had spoken hundreds of times about his feelings for her, but they had all been just words.

             
Until now. 

             
Zeke sent out his thoughts.  “Why are you showing me this?”

             
“You will need to understand.  This is not the only change she has enacted on your friend.”

             
“What?”

             
“Be quiet!  I’m enjoying the dream.”  Ariel’s ethereal voice sounded giddy. 

             
“My hero,” she said, smiling. 

             
Micah grinned.  “I don’t believe in heroes.  Only people.”

Zeke resumed digging.  He tossed a rock that landed short of the grass. 
“Oof!” came a voice, muffled by the rubble.  A person!  By the wall?  He dashed over and started tugging at rocks. 

             
“That’s too close to the wall,”

             
“There’s someone here!  I heard him!”

             
Supporting Ariel, Micah made his way over.  He started pulling at rocks with Zeke.  Ariel’s leg was broken, but she cleared away a few stones on her own. 

             
They saw clothing.  A uniform.  They threw away more rocks and found an insignia.  The man was a Theocratic lieutenant.  Some more rocks unveiled a badly crushed leg.  He had lost a lot of blood.  They cleared more rocks.

             
Then they found the face.  “Ha!” he shouted, spitting up blood. 

             
“Don’t talk,” Micah advised. 

             
“We’ll get you out,” said Ariel. 

             
The man spat more blood.  “I’ll take no help from a traitor and a heathen!” 

             
She straightened up.  “We’re all human.”

             
“Not in the eyes of God.”  He shook  violently.  He needed help, but he refused. 

             
His attitude was typical of Theocratic citizens.  Religion was absolute.  There were those for the Church and those against.  Anyone who believed in a higher power and did not ally themselves with the Theocrat was a traitor to their cause.  A traitor to their gods.  Half the rebellion was made up of these traitors.  Pious, devout people.  Good people. 

             
Heathens in the eyes of the Unified Theocratic Church.

             
“Leave him,” Zeke suggested.  “He’s an enemy and he doesn’t want our help.”