robert Charrette - Arthur 02 - A King Beneath the Mountain (42 page)

At least neither the mage nor the elf knew of his immediate intentions. He knew for a certainty now that Spae's sympathies lay with the opposition, though she was not a sworn member of that fraternity. Her enmity would be a matter to deal with at another time; he could hope that she would not strike before the Path was opened. If she waited until then, he would deal with her as a handful of sand blown to the wind.

The soulless one was another matter, a deeper and more disturbing puzzle. Normally he would have noticed an elf of such power, but he hadn't. How had that come to pass? He had been unaware of the elf's approach until it was almost upon him, and when it first appeared, he had thought the soulless one to be a human, and a powerless one at that. How had it hidden its nature from him?

A question to ponder.

He arranged the brazier, lighting the fire with a thought. He cast frankincense into the dish. The aroma rose to fill the room, a pure, heady scent. He added the rest of the herbs and sat in the great chair, sinking into its leathery embrace.

He was roused briefly from his trance to silence the computer's complaints about the smoke, ordering it to disable the fire sensors and to cease disturbing him. He could not fail to notice if the building were threatened by fire.

Thus he was unaware of the intruders until they entered his sanctum. Then, for truth, he knew them at once.

"Nakaguchi." He swiveled the chair to face them. "And Bwaatu. Van Dieman said that you belonged to the Asian."

"I am loyal to the Circle," Bwaatu protested. "Van Dieman is a font of lies. Having fallen under your sway, he no longer walks the true Path."

Bwaatu's skin was as dark as Quetzal's own, but there the resemblance ended. Bwaatu was a pawn. Quetzal gave his attention to Nakaguchi.

"I hadn't expected you to have the skill to find me."

"A subcutaneous transmitter," the Asian said. "It was placed beneath your skin during one of the medical examinations."

"Ah, that. I was wondering what its purpose was."

"You knew about it?"

"Of course. How could I not know that you had placed something within me? For truth, you do not understand the measure of difference between me and all you have known."

"And you fail to understand the nature of the age into which you have come," the Asian retorted. "I could as easily have had a bomb implanted. Perhaps I should have."

"It would have availed you nothing. I would have recognized the threat and countered it."

"You did not counter the threat of the tracer."

"It was no threat."

"That's where you are wrong, Quetzal."

Quetzal did not care for the Asian's familiarity; he understood what motivated it too well. "I see no threat."

"No?" Nakaguchi reached under his jacket with his left hand and withdrew a small black pistol.

The time had come to end the farce.

"By your vows, I bind you," Quetzal said, the command of Art in his voice. "By your oaths, I still your hand. The Circle encompasses you. The Circle binds you. Once, twice, and thrice, you are bound. Your bodies are as stone. Move not."

Nakaguchi and Bwaatu struggled, internally as well as externally, but they were bound. As they realized their situation, their struggles ceased. Bwaatu's eyes were wide with the knowledge of what happens to the faithful who lose their faith. Nakaguchi remained defiant.

"You should have bound our tongues as well," the Asian said.
"Tasukeru!"

The Asian's shout for assistance brought two men to the door. Soldiers. They wore the armor of the modern age, ballistic corselets and dark-visored helmets of composite plastics. Each man had a military grade assault rifle pointed at Quetzal; he felt the touch of their laser sights upon his chest.

"They are neither followers nor members of the Circle," Nakaguchi told him. "They have protections. You will not bind them easily, and before you succeed, you will be dead."

"So you think to kill me."

"You are too dangerous."

"In that, you are correct." But, unlike Nakaguchi, not always in the obvious ways. "Should you succeed in killing me, who will open the Path? None among the followers, yourself included, has the knowledge or the skill or the power."

"There are others still waiting to wake."

The Asian was confident despite his magical bonds. Overconfident. "You may find them less pleasant than I."

"At this point, I see no other alternative. I think that one among them will better understand the problems we face. In the future, the education will be better structured to render a more tractable mage. I will not make the same mistake twice. You've come to the end of your long road, Quetzal."

"In that, you are mistaken."

Nakaguchi sensed something of the shift in his position. His voice sharp, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Kurita," was all Quetzal felt the need to say.

The security man had arrived undetected. He struck mercilessly.

The first soldier received Kurita's foot in his back. He slammed into one of the tables, doubling over. The second reacted, but too slowly. As he turned, Kurita swept away the muzzle of his weapon with one hand and slammed the other against the man's chest. The blow stunned him. Kurita knocked the soldier's feet from under him, knelt, and drove three rapid blows into his chest. The soldier lay near death; Quetzal could sense the irregular beat of his heart.

Kurita turned his attention to the first soldier. The man was still dazed from his collision with the furniture. He offered almost no resistance as Kurita threw him to the floor and dealt with him as he had with the other.

But with Quetzal's attention focused on his servant's display of martial prowess, Nakaguchi had taken his chance and slipped free of the mystic bonds, proving himself stronger than Quetzal had given him credit for. He proved himself stupider at the same time; he turned to face Kurita.

"Kurita," Quetzal said warningly.

The security man looked up and immediately started for his former master.

Nakaguchi didn't give him a chance. He fired his weapon, shooting Kurita in the gut.

Bad choice or bad aim? Nakaguchi was not using his primary arm, so it could conceivably have been the latter. He should have known better.

Kurita was made of stern stuff, stern enough to finish Nakaguchi even after such a wound. Even so, Quetzal extended strength to his servant. He had underestimated Nakaguchi once already tonight; he was not about to do so again.

Nakaguchi fired again. Kurita took the shot and kept coming. Panicking, Nakaguchi fired three shots in quick succession. Like a fool, he continued to target the torso. One of his shots missed all the same.

Kurita began to weave, but came on.

Finally, Nakaguchi raised his aim. Unfortunately for him, his shot missed. Kurita was nearly close enough to launch a kick, and shifted his weight to do so.

Nakaguchi's next shot blew away Kurita's jaw. The following shot entered his left eye.

There was no more that Quetzal could do to keep the man moving.

Kurita collapsed at Nakaguchi's feet.

Nakaguchi's shoulders slumped in relief. He took a deep breath before turning to point the gun at Quetzal.

"Your turn," he said, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked down to see what Quetzal had already seen. The slide of his semi-automatic pistol was cocked back; there were no more shells in the clip. Nakaguchi had been too rattled to notice that he had expended all of his ammunition.

Quetzal laughed at him.

"Not
my
turn." He stood and stepped up to the Asian, taking him by the throat. "Yours."

"You can't," Nakaguchi protested. "I am a follower of the Path!"

"Ever faithful?"

"I bow before the Wyrm."

"For which you expect reward?"

The goggle-eyed Asian tried to nod.

"Fool! I know you. You never understood me or your place. Your protection was never more than what I wished to grant."

Quetzal drank Nakaguchi's life and let the husk fall to the floor.

Bwaatu, the pawn, had remained bound through the whole vignette. He found his voice at the last and used it to beg for mercy as Quetzal drained him. He took the soldiers, too. This situation had been dealt with; it was time to get on to important things.

CHAPTER

24

"Nakaguchi's dead," Hagen said.

There was no hint of emotion in the dwarf's voice, no trace of victory in his face that Pamela could see. She allowed herself a brief smile. And why not? She was free of the
kansayaku
and his interference at last. However, it was not yet time to celebrate; his demise probably only meant a change in her problems, not the end of them. "And the creature?"

"Still free."

And still one of her problems. "The transmitter?"

"Dead as Nakaguchi."

"Was the thing any more discreet than when it left Set-tawego?"

"Considerably. It made no public display of its power. However, we do have five corpses."

"Five?"

"It appears that Kurita was present for the confrontation."

One less problem. "What happened?"

"It appears that Nakaguchi gunned down his former security chief. Quetzal killed the others." Hagen shook his head. "The details are scanty. The damage control party from Relations is already working with the police. Given the location— not a Keiretsu property—and the clear evidence of hostility between two Keiretsu members we have the basis for a plausible story of intercorporation rivalry and subversion. It seems that Mr. Kurita was seduced by an unknown rival corporation and tasked with eliminating his former master. He sought to poison Mr. Nakaguchi; the others died to conceal the specific target. Unfortunately for Kurita, Nakaguchi did not die until he had taken his revenge." Hagen shrugged. "It's not an airtight story, but it should be sufficient. We may get some tabloid exposure, but it looks as if we will be able to keep Special Investigations out of it."

Hagen's arrangement of the cover-up was commendable, but he had taken a lot for granted. He should have told her of the strategy earlier. This was too delicate a situation for her not to know exactly what was happening when it was happening. Most likely she would have proceeded as he had, but perhaps not. The whole mess surrounding Quetzal had alerted her that her previous course of action might no longer be valid. It might be time for new solutions.

"Perhaps we should not keep the police out of it. We could let them deal with the monster."

Hagen looked at her sternly. "That would not be wise."

Once, she would have agreed wholeheartedly. Now, she wanted to hear his reasons. "Explain."

"Firstly, they would learn of Quetzal's nature if they deal with it. I cannot believe that someone among the police has not already starting linking together some of Quetzal's other killings. If nothing else, they would surely recognize that Nakaguchi and the others did not die of poison and become suspicious.

"Secondly, they would learn of Mitsutomo's role in unleashing the monster. The tabloid publicity for a sensational multiple murder is unfortunate; the revelation that the Keiretsu has unearthed and unleashed a monster would be disastrous."

"But it wasn't the Keiretsu who unleashed the monster; it was Nakaguchi."

"That would be difficult to prove. Even if it is established, there would be those who would not believe the Keiretsu was not responsible."

"There are always those ready to believe the worst about Mitsutomo, or any corporation, for that matter. We have dealt successfully with their kind in the past."

"Times are changing."

"Indeed they are, Mr. Hagen. New times demand new solutions. I find myself wondering about your approach to this problem, noting—as I must—the order in which you state your objections to involving the police. You do not place the health of the Keiretsu
first
in your thinking."

Hagen sat back, eyes narrowing as he looked at her. She had just changed the focus of their conversation. She let him have some time to consider the implications. She wanted to see which way he would jump.

At length he said, "Ms. Martinez, you already know that my primary loyalties lie elsewhere. I hope you understand that this does not make me, in any way, stand in opposition to the Keiretsu and its interests in this matter. Your Charybdis Project has had admirable success in confining and suppressing the instrusions of things unnatural. I see no reasons to alter the policies that you have endorsed, and many reasons to maintain them. This is not the time to go public; publicity would only inhibit the further success of Charybdis."

"Nakaguchi has already altered Charybdis," she pointed out.

"Nakaguchi is gone. You are in charge again."

"Exactly, Mr. Hagen."

He met her gaze. "I see."

"I hope so, Mr. Hagen."

"What is it you wish done?"