Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 (23 page)
Read Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 Online
Authors: Evil Triumphant
information in a realtime setting would not have been difficult. In fact, he conceded to himself, creating a creature that could handle reports that had shifting time differentials between the proto-dimensions would have been a challenge.
He also realized his scouts were flawed because they did not have a way to alert others in case of an
emergency. He decided he should have cloned each of the scouts, or perhaps breed them in teams, so that
at any sign of distress, another scout could be dispatched to find out what was happening to its teammate.
With the real-time input, a lot of that information would already be available, but having another scout
there to gather additional data would not hurt at all.
He put modifications on his list of things to do, elevating the genesis of his SCOUTINT sorting drone to
the top. Having decided what he had to do to make his scouts better and having prioritized that
information, he set that aside and again embraced his betrayal. You
may be my master, but there is no
excuse for that sort of action.
nWhat action would that be, Highness?*
Pygmalion's mental voice carried an amused tone with it as it forced itself into his brain. Walking on the air itself, the small man
A B B YY.c
enter
ed the tower Ryuhito had created from the dried husks of his immortalized warriors through a ta
ll,
archi
ng window.
Ryuhito opened his right hand and pointed toward his patiently waiting scouts. "One of my scouts did not return. Your object lesson has pointed out the flaws in the design, but coming to me and sharing them
with me would have accomplished that end without acrimony."
Pygmalion nodded slowly and licked his lips as if he had just consumed a pastry.
"Indeed, acrimony tinged
with betray aland frustration. This I felt from you. Iwonderedat its genesis, and now I find I am it How
fascinating.*
"You deny having destroyed my scout?"
Pygmalion pointed his index finger at one scout like a child making a gun from his hand. His thumb fell
once, and the first scout crumbled to dust. A second twitch, and a scout evaporated; a third, and a scout burst into flames. Pygmalion gestured one last time, liquefying the fourth scout, then raised his finger up and blew on it before tucking it away in an imaginary holster.
«The fate of your toys, Highness, is of no consequence to me. They are a means to an end, a process through
which I can help you realize your true power and potential. While your experiments with exoskeletons have
been amusing, the fact that they lack any true artistry bores me.»
Pygmalion shrugged, then frowned.«
Where
has this scout gone missing?»
Ryuhito hesitated, no longer certain his master had been tormenting him. "In Blue Africa, ft is an
unremarkable proto-dimension."
nUnremarkable because it possesses nothingtothreaten you. I know it and, were it as accelerated in time as
this place is, I might have chosen it for my domain. Nothing there should have been able to kill one of your
scouts.»
"My hypothesis exactly."
Pygmalion gestured sharply,, and agony spiked from temple to temple in Ryuhito's head.
«Think, fool! If
nothing there should have been able to kill one of your scouts, yet one of your scouts died there, what
does it mean?»
Ryuhito cried out with the pain, then forced it back under control. "Something else must be there. What?"
«Not what, but who?»
Pygmalion's breath hissed out between clenched teeth.
«lt cannot be Fiddleback
and would not be the Empress of Diamonds. Baron Someday, perhaps? Midas Longclaws? Camillelion.
Whoever it is, they seek to distract me and deflect me.»
Ryuhito shivered as Pygmalion's tiny hands knotted and unknotted. Ms
enemies come for him. He is not
invincible.
«No, my child, lam not invincible, but I am more than capable of handling you. And, yes, I have enemies.
I bested Rddleback a second time now, and that means I have power. I have become noticed among my
fellow Dark Lords, and if I am seen to be weak, they will try to tear me
apart.* Pygmalion's dark eyes went blank for a moment, then returned with a malevolent fire playing through them.
»You, Highness,
will be my tool for destroying my enemies.»
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The man
-godling nodded. "1 will create more scouts and we will determine who this interloper is..."
"Forget your scouts," Pygmalion whispered in an irritated hush. «/
have dispatched tunnelers to build you
a route through the dimensions to a place with a link to Blue Africa. You willtake your battalions through
thegateway there and destroy whatever is in Blue Africa. You can return through the tunnel.»
"Will this not expose me to your enemies?"
•It is a risk I will accept I sense nothing out there of sufficient strength toharmyou. Youareagod,
andhaving you working with me will give any of my enemies reason
to pause.»
The little man smiled openly and glanced back out the window through which he had entered.
«You
and your assault will buy me time, and I need very little of it, as you know.
Go,
Ryuhito, slay what you find.
Let your action tell my enemies that opposition to me is an alliance with obliuion.»
Dark Conspiracy 3-20.jpg
Will felt both better and worse as Bat unzipped the black body bag and exposed the thing he'd killed to
the light in the trailer. Almost instantly, a sickly scent, akin to stagnant swamp water, filled the small enclosure. Even the Yidam didn't seem to like the stench, though he joined Crowley in stepping forward
to get a better look at the thing.
In the light, Will had a better perspective on what he had slain. The long, tufted ears reminded him of a bat's ears, and he suspected he'd mined the creature's voice box when he slit its throat, so there was no way to confirm its ability to use echolocation like a bat. The oversized eyes had huge pupils surrounded
by only the thinnest white circle. As Crowley had noted before, the hardened exo-skeleton covering the
face did look like a samurai battle-mask, and subtle coloration variances on the breastplates and deltoid caps reminded Will of the rising sun flag of Imperial Japan.
Stretched out to its full length, the creature only stood 1.3 meters tall, but its short torso and long legs gave the impression it had been designed for speed instead of strength. The ache of his ribs still reminded him that the creature was very strong, and Will had already seen that
the bruise on his chest bore an impression of the weave of the cloth of his shirt.
Bat looked most closely at the wound in the throat. "Nice. Got the airway and the artery."
Will winced. "Thanks, I think." In many ways he still felt detached from the kill, as if he had not actually committed the act. Looking down at his hands, he still saw the black bloodstains on his shirt and beneath his fingernails, but he couldn't bring himself to believe he'd actually struck the blow that killed the creature.
Something else had been in him, acting through him. He knew from his grandfather that such a thing was a
blessing and, though it
did
thrill him to be so blessed, it also scared him deeply.
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Crowl
ey poked the creature in one of the pale green chestplates. With a thick, slushy sound, the plate pull
ed
free of
the flesh mooring it and slid toward the breastbone. A new wave of the swamp odor rose up from
the
body. "Interesting."
Hal frowned and offered Crowley a letter-opener from his desk. "We're not well equipped for an autopsy, but if you want to do one..."
The shadow-sheathed man shook his head. "I have no interest in that at all, actually. What I found fascinating is that the creature has already begun to decay. It looks as if there are microorganisms that feed off green chlorophyll. This explains why, as a plant dies, it shifts colorfrom blue to green, then turns to slime."
Will smiled. "Of course, the green-chlorophyll eaters cause decay faster, returning resources to the soil, which promotes new generations of plants. This thing has chlorophyll, presumably so it can draw nourishment
passively, without hunting." He looked up at Crowley. "That's why blue plants predominate here."
"That would seem to be the situation." Crowley folded his arms across his chest. "I wonder if this microorganism
attack is something that unconsciously inspired Herbert George Wells in
The War of The Worlds?"
Tadd Farber drew in a deep breath of fresh air from the window, then looked back at the room's other five occupants. "H. Q. Wells? 1 don't follow you."
Hal smiled. "The ability to see anything in another dimension is a talent that not everyone has. Without people like Crowley around, our ability to transit dimensions would be severely limited except in dream
or trance states. It is possible to have your consciousness drift, and Wells might have drifted here."
The Yidam nodded. "Given the temporal flux between dimensions and the ability of impressions to travel via circuitous routes, it is even possible that he is witnessing our speculation about his inspiration,
thereby allowing us to inspire that which we speculate about."
Will shivered. "I don't think I want to think about that." He pointed to the scout. "Mr. Crowley, you said this might mean someone will be coming after us. What can we do? Should we evacuate?"
The shadow man looked over at Hal Garrett. "This is your show, Hal. You make the calls."
The African-American straightened up as much as the trailer would allow him. "I am open to suggestions, especially if we are likely to be under attack." He paused for a moment. "You know I don't like violence, and I don't approve of how you handled the Warriors, but I'm not one for making or being made a martyr.
Do you have suggestions?"
Crowley nodded. "Tadd, get the workers together and tell them we've had a security breach. Tell them we suspect the thing that pushed Kent down into that ravine was a scout for a Red Army Faction terrorist cell out here to disrupt this operation. No one goes anywhere outside the compound without an armed escort."
He again touched the corpse. "The exoskeleton is good protection against getting bruised and chewed, but it won't stop a bullet. We have to issue guns to all of Bat's people. 1 think Will and Tadd should draw them as well. The loss of a scout is likely to draw a recon in force, and we have to be ready for it." Crowley turned
