Crux

by James Byron Huggins

  Isaiah’s teeth gleamed as he whispered …

  “Come on …”

  ***

  Utterly numb, Janet frantically crawled from beneath what seemed to have been some kind of computer console now demolished into a tangle of wires and broken shards of screen and plastic knives before Roy reached her side, hurling off debris as it were weightless. In a second, she was clear.

  “You all right?” he gasped, glancing at the door.

  Janet moaned, “Not even close. Where did it go?”

  “It’s somewhere in the corridor,” Roy replied. “We don’t have a visual on it, but it’s not finished. It won’t be finished until it gains control of this machine.”

  Janet glanced at a screen.

  “The power’s still on! How is that possible?” She looked to the dais and saw Margaret scrambling to punch in codes to a variety of massive computers and rushed up the stairs. “What are you doing?”

  With a grimace Margaret shouted, “I’m trying to keep the power on! That thing tore down a substation! I managed to reroute the circuits but there’s only eleven substations and we need at least nine to keep the portal open! Isaiah and Amanda have to return now!”

  “We have to kill that thing first or they’re walking into a massacre,” replied Roy calmly. “Where’s the substation that it tore up?”

  “The substation is wasted! It’s dead! It’s shit!”

  “Where’s the next substation!”

  “It’s three hundred yards down the corridor!” Margaret swept sweat from her face. “It’s three hundred yards,” she repeated, as if uncertain whether she’d already said it. “You’re right. That’s where it’s going. It has to be. Destroying the power is the only way it can close the portal. But why it wants to close the portal is beyond me! I thought it wanted to open the portal.”

  “Change of plans,” Roy said as he changed clips in his rifle. “Its plan was to seize control and then open the gateway. But that plan is off the tracks. Now it’s going to shut down this facility, kill us, and wait for a repair crew that doesn’t know it’s down here. Then it’ll start over.” He grimaced. “The damn thing is persistent, I’ll give it that.”

  Margaret looked up. “You’ve gotta stop it, major! If you don’t, we’ll have to blow the entire collider. We won’t have any choice! We can’t let another crew come down here and turn this thing on again.”

  Roy turned.

  “Let’s go, Tanto.”

  Hefting the last Javelin, Tanto followed.

  Jackman stepped up. “What about me?”

  Roy shook his head. “You gotta stay here, general. And keep that detonator close. If it gets past us, you have to blow the pipes.” A furtive glance. “Or if anything else comes through that machine, blow everything. No hesitation. No regrets.”

  They were gone.

  ***

  The creature circled to Isaiah’s left when suddenly, and clearly by sorcery, a duplicate katana appeared in its right hand. But the demon’s katana was as deep black as dark energy and as dense as the depth separating stars.

  “Man has fallen far,” it continued.

  Isaiah calmly continued to circle right, matching it step for slow step. “So you need those fools on earth to open the portal for you,” Isaiah said calmly. “Did you also tell them how to build it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “They cannot worship what they cannot see.”

  Isaiah stopped and lowered the katana to his right, angling it from his body. “So you’re the one,” he said. “You’re him.”

  It did not reply.

  “Yeah,” Isaiah frowned, “I figured it would come to this. In my world this is what we call a stand-up fight. It’ll be won by whoever has the will to win it.”

  For a moment it seemed to gather itself. It raised the long blade in its left hand, staring balefully. “So be it,” it rasped.

  The night-black katana slashed left to right in a horizontal blow that would have sundered an oak tree as Isaiah leaped back; the blade cut the cloth of his coat leaving a coldness and Isaiah knew by the quickest instinct that one touch of that blade was death.

  In the same flash Isaiah also lashed out with a duplicate horizontal strike and it ducked with the skill of a seasoned warrior as the katana passed over its head. Then it did what Isaiah expected because Isaiah had already half-turned to block its backhand blow; the katanas struck and rebounded and Isaiah quick-stepped back with a glance at his blade.

  The Honjo Masamune had defied the impact and that should have amazed Isaiah but he had no time for amazement or anything else; this was strength and skill and something unknown and there was no more time for thought.

  It shrieked as it leaped holding the katana with both hands and stabbing straight for Isaiah’s chest and Isaiah violently brought the Honjo katana up with a power blow that would have broken a lesser blade. The impact was tremendous and blasted the black katana, with the creature holding it, to Isaiah’s left.

  It was in range.

  Isaiah bridged the gap before any consciousness of his movement registered in his mind to slash again, this time aiming for its ribs and he struck through it and continued with the blow, cleaving through what constituted its flesh.

  With a roar the creature arched its back and swung blindly in a backhand attempt to hit Isaiah, but Isaiah had already, almost casually, stepped outside range and the beast’s blade cut through empty air. Only then did Isaiah realize that this confrontation was inside a stark arena of white light descending from a powerful source.

  Beyond this, all was darkness floating over the face of the deep. But here they stood in a circle—no, a land of light as bright as the morning. But that was all the time Isaiah had for a conscious thought as it attacked again.

  Isaiah had its timing and deflected blow after blow while equally returning them as he retreated and the light followed. But neither of them struck the other. Every blow had been evaded or blocked or parried or had simply passed without a touch. And yet with each collision of blades Isaiah registered the creature’s enormous strength and was constantly stunned that the Honjo Masamune katana did not shatter but absorbed every hit without damage while perfectly returning the same.

  If ever a blade was forged for killing mortal or immortal …

  Isaiah held it in his strong right hand.

  ***

  Staring in horror at the conflict, Amanda lifted an arm across her chest.

  It was fire and ice.

  The demon screamed and whirled and slashed with blinding fury in a flurry of cuts that were so fast and complex Amanda couldn’t truly see if the sweeping black blade was even moving and yet Isaiah blocked blow after blow before countering with his own attacks that the demon evaded by the faintest, flashing margin.

  Howling in fury, the demon redoubled the blurring flurry of so many blows far faster than the eye could follow and yet Isaiah said nothing as he blocked, parried, slid, ducked, or evaded with a perfect step of pure ice. And, through it all, the arena of light kept them separated, alone, and highlighted, effortlessly defying the night.

  The entire world had been split into darkness and light so that there was just this.

  Demon and Man.

  Fire and Ice.

  To the end.

  ***

  This fight had already broken every rule of kendo Isaiah knew because fights with katanas never lasted more than seconds. In kendo, the first blow struck was death and that was almost always the first blow thrown so they had already advanced beyond anything Isaiah had ever experienced. In every other fight, every other training session Isaiah had ever endured, this conflict would be over by now.

  While the creature’s blade was death to the touch, the Honjo katana was not less. It seemed vibrant, fulfilling a purpose. Never since Isaiah had held it, and he had held it all
his life, had he more vividly felt the life of the blade.

  They each leaped, blades colliding edge to edge and holding. Each fighter was close enough to kiss and yet neither could move without risking a lightning-fast blow he could not avoid at this close range. They were frozen like a statue saluting the shadow world in a world of shadow.

  Isaiah had an impression in the back of his consciousness that it did possess a face beneath the obscure sheen that clothed its features. Beneath the funeral veil of darkness Isaiah glimpsed black orbs like eyes and the grim line of its mouth.

  The creature bent into its stance, pushing.

  Isaiah’s jaw tightened and he pushed against it.

  This was the most dangerous position one could hold against another katana. Neither could retreat, neither could strike, neither could shift even a fraction of an inch without losing control of the opponent’s blade.

  It roared, “You can’t defeat me!”

  Isaiah’s lips drew back in a snarl.

  “You’ve been defeated!”

  ***

  Staring down from the Observation Room, Janet saw Roy and Tanto hit the collider corridor floor in a full run. They mounted the ATLAS and searched before Roy lifted his mic: “Confirmed! They’re gone! The bomb, too! I’m gonna give him his one hour! General, if you don’t hear from us in an hour, blow it!”

  Jackman: “One hour. Roger that.”

  Janet looked at her watch. Then she turned and mounted the dais to where Margaret was shifting between computers. The older physicist moved with the alacrity of someone half her age as she shifted power platforms.

  Margaret slammed in a command and lifted her face blackened by the smoke and soot of explosions. In the ghastly florescent light that had inexplicably survived the chaos; her eyes made her look like a zombie with a hideously white stare.

  “Is it gonna hold?” gasped Janet.

  “I don’t know!” Margaret bowed her head, catching her breath. “It tore out a substation and I don’t know how it did that without getting killed! There’s enough electricity in that substation to kill a thousand people! How could it do that without getting killed?”

  Janet shifted. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s operating on some other kind of power we don’t understand.”

  “Like what!”

  “I don’t know!” Janet repeated. “Maybe it’s the secret behind dark energy! Maybe it’s the power that created dark energy! How would I know?”

  Margaret hurled a tablet across the room.

  “Damn this place!”

  ***

  Roy leaped a shattered steel cylinder, landing silently.

  He was crouching as Tanto came down beside him. With a glance Roy assured himself that Tanto was holding up—not an easy thing considering the beating they’d endured. For a split-second Roy was grateful for the agony of Delta training. It never ended, and was Hell, but always gave you an edge that carried you through.

  “It’s gone for the next one,” Tanto gasped. “But it’s going slow. Isaiah hurt it bad with that sword, man.”

  “Yeah,” said Roy. “Okay. Police up. What we got?”

  “I got two full clips, four frags, and the last Javelin.”

  “It’ll have to do.”

  They breathed deep, centering.

  “A quarter-mile pace?” asked Roy. “Can you handle it?”

  “Still in the fight, sir.”

  “Then let’s put this down before it puts us down.”

  They were running as they rose.

  ***

  “Whoa!” shouted Janet as her hands leaped off a keyboard. “What happened!”

  “Oh, no!” Margaret flung her chair across the dais to magically stop in front of another computer. She began typing, gazing at the screen. “That thing took out another substation! The computers can’t even function if we lose another one!”

  Janet cried, “Is the portal down?”

  “Yes!”

  “Reroute the power!”

  “I’m trying!”

  Fumbling frantically, Janet lifted a phone and dialed; she knew every phone in the corridor would simultaneously begin ringing and Roy should answer. If he didn’t, she would go after him demon or no demon.

  Almost immediately, Roy picked up.

  “I know!” he said. “It hit another station! We’re on it!”

  “What’s it doing!”

  “It’s trying to shut down the collider!”

  “Why now?”

  “Something must have happened in Isaiah’s dimension because now it’s willing to shut down the collider and hide in this place for as long as it takes for them to repair it! And that thing can wait a thousand years! It’s got time on its side! We don’t!”

  “Then go get it!”

  Janet jerked her head back as the slam of a phone struck her like a slap in the face. She took a deep breath and turned to Margaret. “Any luck getting the portal back up?”

  “Not yet!”

  “Does this mean Isaiah and Amanda can’t return?”

  “They can’t come back with the portal down!”

  “How far is the next—”

  “It’s three hundred yards just like the last one!”

  “Shit!” Janet grabbed a desk. “Can I do anything?”

  “No!” said Margaret angrily. “You don’t know the system!”

  “I’m taking the ATV!”

  Snatching up a fallen rifle, Janet ran from the room.

  ***

  “I got you!” Roy shouted as he erupted from behind a pylon.

  As the beast began ripping wire from the third substation the bullets again rebounded from its armor to no apparent effect, but the impacts did push it off balance and Roy immediately saw why—the blood-soaked leg revealed bone.

  As Roy dropped the clip, it charged.

  Tanto fired a grenade into its chest.

  The blast was magnified by the cement cylinder and Roy bellowed as he staggered; he noticed Tanto had done the same and even the beast had reacted similarly; they were all hit with the same concussion and suffered the same effect.

  Roy’s teeth gleamed.

  “You’re going down!”

  Even before the shock wave lifted, Roy saw one of the satchels positioned inside the cylinder far above his head.

  Too far to reach but not too far to shoot.

  Roy slammed in a clip and instantly lifted aim, unleashing a full clip into the satchel and was actually amazed when he lowered the rifle to see the satchel still plainly in place as if it hadn’t been touched by a single round. Then the beast was on top of them and Roy leaped to the left to avoid the thunderous fist that shattered the cement floor. As he rolled to his feet Roy saw Tanto also rising, pulling out a machete.

  “No!” Roy shouted but Tanto had leaped forward to violently strike sparks from the beast’s armor. Then the creature’s return blow ended the fight as it struck with a single arm, taking off Tanto’s head. Roy watched as Tanto’s body took a single, staggering step before it fell forward and the beast turned into Roy once more.

  Roy’s training returned to him; no, Semtex won’t detonate if it’s exposed to bullets or pressure. It was designed to deny any cause of outside ignition. But if Roy could set off a blasting cap inside the satchel …

  Spinning, Roy saw a portable walkway against the wall.

  No time!

  He ducked frantically and rolled under the collider pipes as the cement where he stood was pulverized in a sandstorm of jagged shards.

  Either the beast did not possess enough remaining strength to destroy the collider itself or that was not part of its plan. It leaped atop the pipes with shocking agility, considering its leg wound, and descended beside Roy.

  It inhaled once, deeply.

  The battle was won.

 
Roy saw victory in its eyes, so it was in no hurry to finish off this human that stood before it and its final triumph. There were no more soldiers, no more guns, and no one was left to rescue Roy from its grasp. So, now it could finish the power grid at its leisure without destroying the pipes themselves, furthering its purpose.

  It was as if it had known this ending from the beginning.

  Staring up, Roy frowned revealing no fear, no regret. Then he glimpsed movement far to the side and flung out an arm, “No!”

  Janet fired Tanto’s grenade launcher that she had lifted from the floor and Roy was already rolling beneath the pipes to put something solid between himself and the blast as the grenade hit the abomination in the back.

  The concussion was exactly like before and Roy staggered to the far wall groaning, trying to reduce the pressure in his head. He didn’t even need to look to know that Janet was on her back in agony, torpedoed by the unexpected sonic impact.

  As he violently came off the wall, Roy tried to get a reading on the beast and saw the thing pushing itself up from the floor, its armor on fire. With a roar the creature reached over a shoulder and snatched the white-hot iron plate from its back, flinging it aside. Then the breastplate simple fell to the floor. Last, it removed its ragged helmet that had been dented and torn by grenade after grenade.

  Now it had no armor.

  Roy saw the Javelin close.

  Leaping forward, Roy snatched it up as Janet raised her head to see the beast poised upon the collider. Crouching on the pipe, its apelike face lazily swung between herself and Roy as she screamed, “Shoot the damn thing!”

  Roy raised the Javelin as the creature bent.

  Staring up, Roy aimed between its eyes.

  It laughed.

  “Go to Hell,” whispered Roy.

  He pulled the trigger.

  The Javelin struck it in the face and disappeared into the square image of might and the beast arched backward, howling with both hands at its head for a split-second before the detonation liquefied the grotesque head and chest in a mushroom of vaporized flesh. Yet, still, it stood, half the colossal body swaying backward and forward again until it pitched toward Roy, a single arm uplifted, and crashed to the floor.