Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 (13 page)
Read Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 Online
Authors: Evil Triumphant
stuff." He glanced at the form again, then his head came up, "Your grandfather is your next of kin?"
Will shook his head. "No, I have a son. He's 8 months old. My grandfather is taking care of him. If there are insurance benefits or whatever, they should go to him."
"What about his mother?"
The Native American looked down. "She decided that responsibility wasn't her thing. She took off. I don't know where she is. Doesn't matter because the boy is in good hands. My grandfather raised me, he can
raise my son. My aunts will help as well."
Hal sighed slowly. "I can't hire you, Will. The one stipulation we had was that we were not going to put people in a position where their children could be orphaned. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."
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Will'
s eyes narrowed. "Then you are not going as well?"
"What?"
"Your wife was killed in the attack that wounded you. You have children. If you go, they could become orphans. If your rule is absolute, then you cannot be part of this."
Hal sat back. "There are times the rules don't apply."
Willjeaned forward. "Then let this be one of those times. My grandfather told me that I had to come here, that I had
to participate if I wanted to make sure that my son would have a world worth growing up in. I don't know
you well, but I think you are part of this forthe same reason. We have to act to drive evil from the
world—no matter the cost to us personally, because if we do not, the evil will consume both us and our
children."
Will sensed from Hal a genuine respect for what he was saying, but the underlying reluctance still
remained. "Let me also point out that my special skills include things you will never find among those who dwell in the Grand Dark. I have lived outside shelter. I know how to track and hunt. I know how to
survive under adverse conditions. I am aware and at home in a whole world these people will be blind
to."
The big man nodded. "Follow me." He stood and led Will to a door set in the back wall. Hal knocked twice, then waited for a response. When none came, he punched a combination code into the lock panel
and the door buzzed open. He ushered Will into the small, dark cubicle with another door in the far wall
and pointed at a chair.
Will sat and found himself in front of a machine that looked very much like a vision-testing device. A
bulky circular device with a viewport that jutted toward him, it looked like an over-large model of a
referee's whistle. Will saw a number of switches and dials on it, and two cables running out the back, but could make no sense of any of it. It didn't look Russian, even though its blocky form suggested
manufacture outside the States.
Leaning forward, he put his forehead on the headrest and looked through the lenses. As he expected, he
saw a normal vision chart. Instead of letters it had icons, but that did not surprise him. Will knew a
number of the people applying for positions had to be illiterate, so differentiating a dog from a pineapple was easier than telling a D from a P. *
"Which line do you want me to read from? I can manage the 20/10 easy. Moose, car, bean, pen, coin and cat."
"Good. Mow tell me what you see."
Will heard a switch click, and the scene changed abruptly. Instead of a static chart, he found himself
peering at a purple and pink scene that seemed to be a random distribution of colored circles. At first he thought it was a pattern meant to check him for color-blindness, but he knew he was not color-blind
already. Then he saw the dots shift and divide. They attacked each other as if engaging in a race war on a
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cellul
ar level. He would have thought he was watching a microscopic slide of a drop of water, but
nothi
ng in it looked like it had evolved on Earth.
"I see, I see... 1 see purple and pink circles killing each other." Will hesitated as a chill ran down his spine. "The pinks are losing, and I can feel their panic."
A sharp snap sounded and the light in the device died. Will pulled back and looked up at Hal Garrett.
"That wasn't a vision test, was it?"
"It was, of sorts. The fact that you saw what you did confirms your ability to be functional at our
destination." The African-American rested a hand on Will's shoulder. "The fact that you felt what you felt means I can't turn you away no matter how much I think I should."
"I'm in?"
Hal nodded. "You're in." He crossed behind Will and opened up the other door. "You're in for the long haul. You'll get your shot at that evil you mentioned and I hope, for all our sakes, you make it a good
one."
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The entity known to Coyote's allies as Fiddleback stretched out his mind and swept up the weak impressions Vetha had communicated to him. He learned through her the full meaning of Fiddleback and took pleasure in the image of a creature feared because of its power and choice to remain hidden. The name showed they
feared him and that, in and of itself, could be an intoxicant for him.
The name did not make him happy because he did not allow himself happiness. Arrogance, yes, and pride in
his invincibility, but never happiness. That was a weakness that would both cut at his source of power and, even worse, make him careless. Carelessness, he reflected in a dimensional void, was terminal.
His pet, Coyote/Jaeger/Caine, had learned about carelessness. Even all the years of training Fiddleback had lavished upon him had not prevented his injury and near death. Coyote—Fiddleback could no longer consider him Jaeger-pet in clear conscience—had gone unarmed and had advertised his presence. Those two mistakes
had been multiplied, producing a disaster of a proportion that threatened the effort against Pygmalion.
Fiddleback turned Vetha's impression of Crowley
over and over in his mind, like a fly being wrapped in a spider-silk cocoon. Crowley—or El Espectro or
The Ghost That Walks or any of a legion of other names—had been an annoyance before. Lacking the
power of a Dark Lord, he had succeeded in avoiding detection and slipping into places where he could do
a great deal of damage. Crowley had forced changes in plans before, but Fiddleback found himself
pleased that Crowley intended to repair Coyote.
The Dark Lord knew that Coyote, like himself, would benefit from the mistake. Creating Pygmalion
without establishing a check on his ability to assume power had been a gross blunder. In creating Coyote,
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Fidd
leback had built the weapon to make up for that first mistake while implementing measures that
would g
uarantee his new pet would not be able to oppose him. While Coyote had been instrumental i
n—
doubtlessly because of Crowley's malign influence—preventing Fiddleback's conquest of Earth, his
efforts would ultimately be for naught.
For a mind like Fiddleback's, a mind that contained the memories, dreams and cognitive abilities of an
entire dimension's population, out-thinking human agents proved painfully simple. Even one
Myrangeikki
brain possessed more computing power than all the Nobel laureates combined. With thousands of such
minds working in parallel and yet others checking the work, mapping out the logical variations of human
planning came easily to him.
A lone voice, one he had hoped he banished when he exiled Vetha, pressed him on a point of
vulnerability. It was true, he conceded to himself, that Pygmalion was only a human being, and his revolt had not been anticipated, but there had been reasons for that failure. Fiddleback had been preoccupied
with locating and
dominating the last of the
Jes'da
on Earth, and that required Pygmalion's aide. Pygmalion's hatred of the
Jes'da
had been so raw that it concealed his own lust for power.
That mistake had inspired the creation of Jaeger/ Caine. Fiddleback had controlled every facet of the
youth's life, from his conception to training. He had built the hunter carefully, selectively destroying
negative influences and preventing Jaeger from obsessing unhealthfully about anything. It resulted in a
unique product that had a personality and even an
aspect,
but without a core identity that desired personal gain.
Fiddleback did realize that he had created a perfect model for Coyote to co-opt into his replacement.
Jaeger had been trained to see himself as a champion—Fiddle-back's champion—and this self-
imagetransplanted readily into the fertile soil of Coyote's identity. While it amused him to be facing his own creation, the Dark Lord knew he knew more about Jaeger than the man did himself. Therein would
be his ultimate victory.
The Dark Lord realized that there was no way he would ever be able to redeem Coyote. His pet was truly
lost to him forever. That did not neutralize his pet's utility, but it made him unreliable and potentially treacherous. This, then, would be factored into the calculations.
Fiddleback acknowledged the soundness of his original plan for the conquest of Earth. As he could not
move to it through the restrictive sphere of dimensions surrounding it, he had to be teleported into it
through a dimensional transportation device. Noneof those that had existed when he began his plan to
take Earth had been of sufficient size to afford him passage, so he manipulated Nero Loring, through a
changeling substituted for his daughter Nerys, into creating one suitable for his use.
Coyote had thwarted use of that device, and had seen
to it that it would not be used again. Fiddleback had then turned to his secondary plan and started to
seduce Ryuhito, the grandson of the emperor of Earth's technological giant, Japan. To recover the
emperor's grandson, Fiddleback had been certain the emperor would order the creation of a dimensional
transportation device suitable for delivering a large number troops all at once to free his grandson from Fiddleback's prison. The emperor's acquaintance with Crowley, and Crowley's possession of the needed
technology, meant the device would be built.
