The Tower of Endless Worlds (23 page)

Simon nodded, embarrassed. Katrina rubbed his shoulders. He waited until the shakes passed. 

“So you understand the danger,” said Conmager. 

Simon folded his arms. “What are you going to do?”

“I am not sure,” said Conmager. “But you must come with me.”

Simon frowned. “Why?”

“You are in great danger if you stay here,” said Conmager. “If Marugon takes me, he will learn that you aided me. Wycliffe will send the winged ones for you. But if you come with me,” he rubbed his fingers against the staff, “I have the means to protect you.”

“No,” said Simon. “No. I’m not…I’m not doing this. You’ve hidden once before, you can hide again.”

“I did hide once before, yes,” said Conmager. “But only because Wycliffe considered me an unusual curiosity, a man who could resist his Voice, and because I am too insignificant to trouble Marugon. But Lithon is a threat to him. If he learns…rather, when he learns that Lithon reached Earth, he will respond with ruthless force. He will try to annihilate Lithon and anyone connected to him.” He frowned. “And the girl. There is…there is something strange about her. Familiar, almost, yet I cannot…”

“Then what hope is there?” said Simon. “If we go with you those winged devils will find us, and if we stay here, they’ll come for us?”

“There is hope,” said Conmager. He rolled his staff between his palms. “I have thought on this long and hard. There is something I can do yet. A desperate last chance that might save you and your betrothed and the children.”  A terrible look of mixed fear and pain came over his face. “It may save us all. But the price, ah, the price…” He shuddered. 

“Then just go.” Simon stepped away from Katrina and waved his hands. “Just go, take the children, and don’t come back.”

“Are you just going to abandon those kids?” said Katrina. Something hardened in her eyes. 

“I though you didn’t want children,” said Simon. 

“I don’t,” said Katrina. “But I don’t want to abandon them, not like my father did to me and my mother.” 

Conmager stood. He looked beyond weary. “You are right. We face dire peril, all of us. For you aided me, and then you told your betrothed of me, and Marugon wants these children dead. If you stay here, all is lost. If you come with me, there is some hope. I am no true Wizard, but even I have some spells Marugon may find troublesome.”

“I don’t know,” said Simon. How could he flee with Conmager in a fool’s race across the country? He had worked so hard to build a life here. What would he tell his mother? He looked at Katrina. Would she be willing to leave her mother behind?

“I don’t know,” repeated Simon. “I’ll…have to think about it.”

Conmager sat back down. “I will give you until tomorrow morning. I am weary, and must rest before I can go on. But you must decide. And I beg you, Simon Wester, to come with me. You have always aided me so far, and that was the right decision, I assure you.”

Simon's thoughts chased each other in a confused jumble. He managed to nod and walked into the dining room. The morning sunlight sent bright shafts through the windows. He paced, rubbing his eyes, trying to think through the dread that choked his mind. 

He wished he had never helped Conmager. 

“Hey.”

Simon spun, his heart pounding. “Katrina.” She stood by the living room door, watching him. 

“You don’t look too good,” she said.

Simon barked out a laugh. “If you’d seen that winged thing, and if you knew that it was coming for you…you’d be scared, too.”

“Are you scared?” said Katrina.

He sat down on the stairs. “Terrified.”

She sat besides him. “So am I. I saw those shadow-shapes through the door, remember? If they’re anything like those winged things you keep talking about…I wouldn’t want to meet them. But I have, haven’t I? All this time. God damn that Wycliffe, Simon, God damn him to hell. Those damned thugs. I should have thought those beards were fake. They all looked like Hell’s Angels.”

Simon shook his head. “Yeah. That’s exactly right. Hell’s Angels.” 

“So what are you going to do?”

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know. I…think I’ll skip town for a while. Head to Milwaukee, or Springfield, and get a room. Pay in cash. I’ll wait a week, until Conmager and those kids are on the other side of the country, and then I’ll come back.” He took her hand. “Come with me. I shouldn’t have told you, but I did, and you’re stuck in this mess now. Conmager’s not our problem. He can take care of himself.”

Katrina shook her hand free. “No.”

Simon’s heart lurched. “Why not?”

“I think you should go with him,” said Katrina. “I’m going with him.”

“What?” said Simon, aghast. “Why?”

“Because he’s right,” said Katrina. “My God, Simon, think about it. We both work for Wycliffe. He’ll find out about us somehow. And this Marugon will be staying at the warehouse. Don’t you think he could find out?”

“How can you even think about doing this?” said Simon.

Katrina scoffed. “You saw the winged things. And everything Conmager said makes sense. All those stories about Wycliffe. Fulbright committing suicide. And I saw the door.” She smirked. “What is it that preachers always say? Blessed are those who have not seen but yet believe. Well, guess what, Simon? I’ve seen the door, and I believe.”

“But…” said Simon.

“And there’s something else,” said Katrina. Her hands clenched. “My first year working at the warehouse, a part-time receptionist was hired right after me. She was bubbly and bouncy and blond…you know the type. I got to know her a bit. She was an idiot, but not a bad one. Wycliffe hung around her all the time. Everyone figured he was screwing her.”  Her scowl deepened. “And then one day her roommate finds her floating in the bathtub with cut wrists. Everyone thought it was a suicide. Wycliffe even went to the funeral. But I don’t think it was a suicide. You heard what Conmager said about that Voice thing. I think Wycliffe used it on her, and then when he got tired of her or she found out too much, he told her to kill herself.” She shook her head, her eyes drilling holes into him. “The suicide never made any sense to me. And now it does.” 

Simon clutched at his knees. “It could…it could still all be a coincidence.” But his words were empty, and he knew it.

Katrina spat. “I always thought Wycliffe was a creep. But if everything Conmager said is true, and I think it is, then our beloved Senator Thomas Wycliffe’s a monster.” She stood. “I’m going with Conmager because I think it’s the right thing to do. And I’ll go without you if I have to, Simon.”

She walked back to the living room and shut the door.

Simon stared after her. 

Chapter 19 - The Voidspawn

Anno Domini 2003

Wycliffe laughed into the cell phone. “Indeed? Well, you know the environmentalists. Cut down a tree and they scream bloody murder, but if that tree’s going to make stir sticks for their fancy coffee…things change, don’t they?” He laughed again. “Excellent. Six o’clock next Thursday? I look forward to it.” He tucked the phone back into his jacket pocket.

Krastiny gave him an amused look over the chessboard. “Are you courting a woman, Senator?”

Wycliffe fingered a captured pawn. “Hardly.”

Krastiny moved his bishop. “A campaign contributor, then?”

“Nope.” Wycliffe slid his rook three squares, pinning Krastiny’s bishop against his king. “I pay for my campaigns out of my own pocket. A side benefit of our business success, and a useful political tool. When the public discussion turns towards campaign finance, I can trumpet the fact that not one cent of donated or taxpayer money has gone towards my election.”

Krastiny stared at the chessboard. “Ha! It is simpler in Russia. If Kurkov wants something done, he simply buys the appropriate legislators and tells them what to do.” He snapped his fingers and moved his knight. “So, if you do not take campaign money from these rich businessmen, why bother having dinner with them?”

Wycliffe drummed his fingers on the table. “They many not give me money, but there’s no law that says they can’t go out and drum up support.” He grinned and moved his remaining knight, causing Krastiny to mutter a curse. “Very useful. And I’ll have you know that was no businessman. That was Senator William Jones, the senior senator from this state. I have plans for him.”

“You’ll have me in checkmate in four moves,” said Krastiny.

Wycliffe smiled. “I know.”

Krastiny nodded. “Unless I do this.” He moved his queen. “Checkmate.”

“What?” Wycliffe glared at the board. “That’s not…damn it. Damn it.” He tipped over his king. “Very well. Checkmate. Again.”

Krastiny laughed. “Do not take it hard, Senator. I have met very few Americans who can give me a good match, and you are one of those few. If you had not lost your first knight a half hour ago, things would have been very different.”

“Small comfort.” Wycliffe walked to the intercom on the wall. “Though if you want a challenge, you should ask Marugon for a game.”

Krastiny packed away the chess pieces. “He is skilled?”

Wycliffe called the kitchen and ordered a pair of meals. “Extremely skilled.”

Krastiny stood. “They have chess on his world, then?”

“Actually no,” said Wycliffe. “Nothing like it, as far as I know. Marugon came across a reference to the game in a book and challenged me to a match. I beat him once. The next game he checkmated me in five minutes. Now he can do it in three.”

“Remarkable. You are not unskilled yourself,” said Krastiny. 

Wycliffe rolled his eyes. “Try not to flatter me. But Marugon has an unusual mind. Lunch won’t arrive for a few minutes. Come. I want to show you something.”

“Shall I summon Kurkov?” said Krastiny.

“No.” Wycliffe chuckled. “He wouldn’t understand. Besides, he’s most likely hung over.”

Krastiny scowled. “It will be easy for Bronsky to guard him, since he will not stir until at least noon. If Kurkov lives to forty, I will have documented proof of the existence of miracles.”

Wycliffe laughed. “This way.”

He led Krastiny out the door and into a narrow concrete hallway. Florescent lights glared off the walls and ceiling. Steel doors stood at regular intervals along the walls, a faint humming audible through the doors.

“For a bomb shelter, this is most commodious,” said Krastiny.

“Indeed,” said Wycliffe. He waved a hand at the pipes running along the ceiling. “I had this place built under warehouse 13A years ago. My private bastion against terrorist attack and nuclear war, with five years’ worth of food, fuel, water, and medical supplies. Of course, I installed a library and an entertainment room and other facilities down here, and since then, it’s become a private retreat of sorts.”

Wycliffe turned a corner and stopped, his heart skipping a beat. Goth Marson stood before the library door. Wycliffe saw his reflection in the mirrored sunglasses. Krastiny muttered something.

“Goth,” said Wycliffe. He shoved aside his fear with anger. “Is Lord Marugon in the library?”

Goth nodded, his massive black beard rustling against his leather jacket. 

“I would see him,” said Wycliffe.

Goth remained motionless. 

Wycliffe scowled. “Now.”

Goth stared at him, and Wycliffe felt like a rabbit caught beneath the gaze of a snake. At last Goth stepped aside and grinned. Wycliffe glared at him and pushed the door open. He stepped into the library, waved Krastiny inside, and slammed the door.

“That Goth Marson is the…leader of the slouching thugs?” said Krastiny.

“Yes.” Wycliffe squinted into the gloom and fumbled for the light switch. 

“Not surprising,” said Krastiny. “He looks like the worst of the lot. I think you would do well to tell Marugon to send them back, Senator. I would not be surprised if they were less than human…”

Wycliffe flipped the switch. Light flooded the library, a spacious room about the size of a small house. Books lined all four walls, and reading tables stood throughout the room. Marugon sat at the center table, paging through a book. A great heap of books covered the table and more stood stacked on the floor.

Krastiny blinked. “Was he reading in the dark?”

“Most likely,” said Wycliffe. Marugon paid then no heed. “Darkness never seems to trouble him. In fact, my own night vision has increased since I began studying black magic. A side effect, I presume.”

Krastiny frowned. “He is not reading those books.”

“Oh?” said Wycliffe.

“Look. He’s just paging through them.” Krastiny snorted. “Likely he is looking for colorful pictures, no?”

Wycliffe smiled. “Oh, no, Doctor. He’s reading them. Every word, I assure you. He is able to read with amazing speed, and then remember what he has read. I have never seen anything like it.”   

Krastiny scratched his chin. “I should say so, yes.”  Marugon set down the book and picked up another. “How long will he stay?”

“About a week,” said Wycliffe. “He wants to inspect the weapons.” He scowled. “I think Goth Marson will remain behind, though.”

“Astonishing.”

Wycliffe jumped. Marugon looked up from his book, a strange expression on his face. “Oh?”

“Astonishing,” repeated Marugon. “I was amazed by the power of the guns. But now I have come across something far greater.”  He placed the book on the table and spun it around. “Look.”

Wycliffe peered at the book, a weighty tome on the nuclear arms race between the United States and the Soviet Union. The opened page showed a color picture of a huge white mushroom cloud, lit from within by orange fires. It was a photograph of the hydrogen bomb test the US Army had conducted at Enewetak Atoll in 1954. 

“What about it?” said Wycliffe. 

“Do you know what this is?” said Marugon.

Wycliffe shrugged. “A mushroom cloud. It’s…um…a side effect produced from the explosion of a nuclear bomb.”

“A nuclear bomb,” said Marugon, his voice rapt. He flipped through the pages. “Here. August 6th, 1945. Your nation dropped a nuclear bomb on a city called Hiroshima. It killed seventy thousand people. Thousands more died from radiation over the years. The city was utterly leveled.” He shook his head. “To think that such power is contained in an atom, something so small. Even after I came to your world and learned of guns and grenades, I never dreamed of such destructive force.” His dark eyes locked on Wycliffe. “Why did you never tell me of these devices?”

Wycliffe shrugged. “It never came up.” He felt a twinge of fear.

Marugon’s gaze didn’t waver. “Elaborate.”

“Those bombs are extremely dangerous,” said Wycliffe. “And damaging. The cost may be more than even you are willing to pay.”

Marugon waved a hand. “I have the plunder of the High Kingdoms at my disposal. Gold is no object.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Wycliffe. “The damage would be very great. The bomb would destroy everything in a twenty-mile radius, yes. But it would throw up a great cloud of radiation. It would poison the surrounding land for decades, even centuries, depending upon the strength of the bomb.”

Krastiny cleared his throat. “Lord Marugon. If I may?” Marugon nodded. “Nuclear bombs were built as deterrents. The United States, this nation, was the first to acquire them. So the Soviet Union felt it had to have a bomb, lest the United States gain too great an advantage. And that is why other nations have acquired nuclear bombs.”

Marugon tapped the book. “I have read of this…what is this phrase? Mutually assured destruction?”

“Exactly,” said Krastiny. “Nuclear weapons have only been actually used with hostile intent twice…Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as you have read. And no one has used one since, though it has come very close. The price, as Senator Wycliffe said, is too great. A nation acquires nuclear weapons so it never has to use them.” He chuckled. “A dangerous paradox.”

“They carry other risks,” said Wycliffe. “Though it’s never been completely proven, most scientists feel that an all-out nuclear war would throw so much dust and soot into the air that the sun would be blocked for months. The world would freeze and civilization would perish.”

“Amazing,” said Marugon. “I said before that your world’s technology held true power. And I see I am right, yes? Your scientists have given you the ability to destroy your world. No spells hold such power.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you are right. A nuclear device may be too dangerous. I could not protect myself.” His lips quirked. “But perhaps…I shall have to give the matter further study.”

“Besides,” said Wycliffe. “Any nuclear fuel would be extremely difficult to acquire, even for Kurkov’s organization. A nuclear device, a functional bomb, would be much harder to find. The risks would run very high, and the costs in the tens of millions.”

Marugon closed the book. “But it could be done?”

Wycliffe bit his lip. The thought of Marugon possessing a nuclear weapon filled him with unease. Nevertheless, he said, “Yes, I believe so. It would take some time. But it could be done.” 

“Good.” Marugon reached for another book. “I shall have ponder it.”   

“What would you need with a nuclear weapon?” said Wycliffe. “It’s not as if you face formidable opposition. Your enemies still fight with swords and lances and bows, even in the obvious fact of the guns’ superiority.”

Marugon laughed. “Yes. For some reason, they think the guns are hell-forged engines of the black magic.”

“Then why would you even need a nuclear bomb?” said Wycliffe.

Marugon was silent for a moment. “A…symbolic gesture, you might say. I plan to drive my enemies until they have but one stronghold…the city of Antarese, perhaps, if all goes according to plan. Then I shall annihilate their last bastion with the bomb. And even the radiation may prove useful.” He snapped his fingers. Gloaming scuttled out from under the table. “The black magic can create useful servants. But I have often wondered if elements from your world, combined with the black magic, could create servants of even greater power.”

“Something else for you to ponder,” said Wycliffe.

“Perhaps.” Marugon reached for another book. “I shall speak with you later.”

Wycliffe sketched a small bow. “Of course.” He turned, opened the door, and stepped back into the hall, Krastiny at his heels. Goth turned his head to watch them, and Wycliffe ignored the hulking man and led Krastiny back to the game room. A pair of plates with sandwiches, chips, and carrot sticks had been placed on the table.

“That was alarming,” said Wycliffe.

“I should say so.” Krastiny began to eat his sandwich. “You should do all you can to deter him from trying to obtain a nuclear weapon. The risk to Kurkov’s organization would be very great. Especially after the Twin Towers attacks. The American government is far more vigilant about these sorts of things than it used to be.”  He picked up a carrot stick. “It is fortunate that Marugon seems to have a limitless supply of gold. The cost of smuggling weapons to the States has tripled in the last year alone.”

Wycliffe smiled. “Perhaps I’ll be in a better position to obtain a nuclear device for him if everything goes according to plan.”

Krastiny raised an eyebrow. “Long-term political ambitions?”

“Oh, yes,” said Wycliffe. “Yes, indeed. And if Marugon wants a nuclear bomb, what concern is it of mine?” He shook his head. “If he wants to irradiate his world, well, that’s his problem.”

Krastiny chuckled. “Senator, you are rationalizing.”

Wycliffe snorted. “I’m a politician. I have it down to a fine art.”

The intercom buzzed. “Senator?”

Wycliffe hit the button. “What?”

“You’re needed in the surveillance room right away.”

Wycliffe frowned. “Who is this?”

“Um…Thomson, sir, security supervisor for warehouse 13A.”

“Of course,” said Wycliffe. “What’s going on?”

“Sir…I don’t think I should talk about it over the intercom. We need you up here right away.”

The hair on the back of Wycliffe’s neck rose. “Fine. I’ll be right up.”

Krastiny wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Problem?”

“Most likely.” Wycliffe started for the door. “They know better than to bother me for anything minor.”

Krastiny snorted. “A peaceful lunch is such a rarity.”

”I know,” said Wycliffe. He opened the door and jumped half a foot.

Goth Marson stood in the hallway, looming like a storm cloud. 

“What the hell?” barked Wycliffe.

“I shall accompany you.”   

“Why? Do you know what’s going on?” said Wycliffe.

Goth stepped to the side and said nothing. 

“Eloquent, is he not?” said Krastiny. 

Wycliffe tried to regain his dignity. “Fine. Come along. Try not to make any more trouble, hmm?” 

Goth said nothing. Wycliffe headed to the elevator, got inside, and hit the button for the ground floor, Krastiny and Goth with him. The close proximity to Goth made the air on the back of his neck stand up. But at last the elevator reached the ground floor, and Wycliffe walked down a hallway and opened a door.