"You might think that curious, Mr. MacNeal, a relic of a past time, a myth. It is not. It is fact and, at once, both wonderful and terrible. The power that blood confers on the Imperial family is incalculable and, were it misused, could be disastrous."
An uneasy shiver ran down Sin's spine. Blood of the gods? This is as crazy as giant spiders invading Phoenix, yet I find myself believing him. "You think Arrigo El-Leichter is trying to use your grandson and his divine blood in some way that will hurt Japan?"
"Not just Japan, but the world." The man's hands came together into a black knot. "The El-Leichters are based in your Phoenix and operated out of Hawaii until indicted in an illegal phone credit-card scheme. They have many followers who are influential throughout the world. They claim connection with a brotherhood of space travelers, and we have no way of knowing how much of what they say is true."
Something told Sin that no matter how bizarre this sounded, the El-Leichters were just as dangerous as the people Coyote had sent him to Japan to find. He distrusted any conclusion based on next to no information, but he'd also learned to trust his hunches. "All right, you want me to infiltrate the El-Leichter institution and dissuade your grandson from following them. I'll do it, but on two conditions."
"You will not find me ungrateful if you succeed, Mr. MacNeal."
"I believe you. First, I want Nagashita kept away from me and my friends. I need running room, and I don't need a shadow right now. If I need him, I'll call him."
The man in shadows nodded. "Done."
"Second, when this is over, I'll need help finishing off the job my boss gave me to do. I would like your help in that."
"This you will have, if you save my grandson."
"I'll do my best." Sin nodded solemnly. "What if that isn't good enough?"
The little man remained immobile for a second, then his head nodded forward. "Colonel Nagashita informed me you have a gun. I assume you know how to use it."
"You want me to kill your grandson?"
"I do not desire his death, but it would be better to mourn at his funeral than to preside over the destruction of the world."
Lost in his own little world, Mickey pushed a stamped tin car along the sidewalk in front of the box in which his family lived. The rear wheel supports scraped along the ground and left wavy white lines on the concrete. The wheels had long ago vanished, but Mickey didn't mind. In that vehicle, he saw himself and his sister and father and Rajani all driving off to a place where they could be happy.
He did not hear the man walk up, but that came less because of his hearing loss from repeated ear infections than it did from the man's stealthy nature. Instead, Mickey felt his presence and looked up. The man's bald head eclipsed the sun, giving him a nimbus halo. Despite having to look up at the man and his having such a startling silhouette, Mickey saw he was small. Having met Rajani, though, he did not mistake a tiny physique for powerlessness.
"Yii."
"Yes, hello to you, too." The man's voice came softly, barely a whisper, yet Mickey heard it clearly above the roar of the crane piling more apartments onto the building. «How are you today, Mickey?»
«You can brain-talk!» Mickey smiled openly, for a half-second forgetting how such things had spawned revulsion and ridicule by others.
«I can indeed.» The man squatted down, and the sun briefly blinded Mickey. Reaching out, the man took Mickey's lower jaw in his hand. Mickey pulled away, but the man caught him again. «I will not harm you, Mickey. I have come to help you.»
The little boy blinked with surprise. "Hela?"
"Help, yes." The man's dark eyes seemed to glow with a light blue outline for a moment, and Mickey felt the flesh of his face and lips tingle. That ticklish sensation traced along the crack in his upper palate and on back through his sinuses. It contracted and shot off out of both ears. "How could they have let you go for this long? This should have been repaired before you were out of diapers."
Mickey stared at him with innocent eyes. "Hela?"
The little man nodded solemnly and stood. "Yes, I will help you. I will make you whole." He extended his hand to Mickey. "Come with me."
Mickey shot a glance back over his shoulder at the door of his house. "Orfey."
"Give your sister not another thought, my child. You know she would do anything she could to see you made well." The man's voice surrounded him like one of his sister's hugs. «This is your chance to become what she wants you to be, and you're giving her back her life.»
«But, I should say good-bye.»
"When you return you can say hello," the man said in a voice so compassionate that Mickey missed the lie in his words. "Come with me."
Mickey stood and took the man's hand. The fact that his flesh felt cool but dry did not strike Mickey as unusual. Smiling his broken smile, he walked off with the small man and after 10 paces they had left Flagstaff worlds behind.
Rajani almost refused the ride from the ramshackle pickup truck that slowed and pulled off the road in a dust cloud. Most of the vehicles she'd seen in a similar condition had been burned-out hulks left beside I-17, and some of those had more parts than the truck stopping for her. Big and boxy, it was missing the right front wheel-well panel, and the rusty front bumper hung lopsided like a madman's grin. The grill might once have been a chromed grid, but enough pieces of it had vanished over the years to make it look like a crossword puzzle template.
The light of the single working headlight pinned her in place, and she contemplated darting back into the brush at the edge of the road. She reached out with her mind and sensed no hostility from the two occupants of the vehicle and, in fact, caught a reverent joy from the one on the passenger side.
The passenger door opened slowly. The old man climbed out, apparently stiff and sore. He turned back and looked at the younger man behind the wheel and said something to him in a tongue Rajani could not decipher. Holding on to the open door so he would not slip in the gravel beside the road, he came around and smiled at her.
"Welcome. If you wish a ride, we will give you one."
The opposite door opened, and Rajani instantly got a twin blast of concern and fear from the younger man getting out. She noticed that both of them wore their straight hair long, with the youth's jet-black and the old man's steely gray. "Grandfather, stay away from her. She might be one of them." The young man reached into the truck to pull a shotgun from the rifle rack over the rear window.
The old man frowned. "The young ones, they know nothing. Come with us, little sister." The old man looked back at his grandson. "Will, this is a great day. Do nothing to spoil it. Leave the gun there."
Will shook his head but did not free the gun from the rack. "Picking up a hitchhiking gangbanger on a lonely road. I can't imagine what you would have done if I'd let you make this trip alone, Grandfather."
Despite the younger man's reticence, the warmth and happiness being radiated by the older man drew Rajani forward. She did not flinch at the gentle touch of the older man's hand on her back as he guided her around the door and into the middle of the bench seat. She smiled as sweetly as she could at Will, and his frown lightened a bit, but he remained sullen as he pulled his door shut. His grandfather climbed into the cab, and Rajani found herself slightly uncomfortable on the crowded seat.
Carefully avoiding her left knee, Will jammed the truck into gear and started them off. "We're heading to the reservation east of Phoenix. Okay if we drop you there?"
Before she could reply, the old man patted her right hand. "We will take you wherever you need to go, little sister. I am He Whose Antics Are The Light in The Eye of the Raven."
"Raven's eyes are both glowing tonight," Will grumbled.
"You may call me George, and this is my grandson, Will."
The pure joy in the older Native American radiated out and stilled the apprehension given off by his grandson. "I am Rajani."
"So, Rajani, what's your story?" Will jammed the truck into a higher gear. "Have to run from a drug bust in
Flag?"
She tried to think of a plausible story to offer them, but she knew that what had fooled children would not pass muster with these two. She glanced over at the older man, and once she looked in his eyes she knew she could safely tell him the truth. "My parents were born on another world, but I was born here. I was named Rajani after a Hindu goddess in honor of Dr. Chandra, my parents' best friend. I have been in a stasis shell for the past two decades in a secret research facility maintained by the government, and I am traveling to Phoenix to stop someone from falling into a trap being set by a monster from outside this dimension."
The truck swerved a bit as Will hit the break and started to steer onto the shoulder. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Keep driving, Will. We will not leave here," George smiled sagely. "We will do everything we can to help you, little sister."
"Grandfather, she's nuts!"
The older man's voice took on an edge. "Will, only weeks ago you were told that what I have to teach you has value. You yourself saw the storm and the creature forming above Phoenix. You know that happened, and after that you started your studies."
"I know what I saw, Grandfather, but that's worlds away from a blonde bimbo from Betelgeuse." Will's face flushed. "I'm sorry, miss, but I can't buy your story."
Rajani sensed in Will a conflict that pitted himself and his self-image against his heritage and all the things his grandfather had tried to teach him over the years. Will wanted to be a man of the 21st century. He wanted to leave superstition and nonsense behind, but he kept experiencing things that suggested to him that his grandfather's ancient ways were still valid. A huge part of him wanted to be worthy of his grandfather's legacy, but the modern man laughed at his desire to master rituals and traditions that had been stripped of meaning by the real world.
"Will, reach out with your heart." The older man reached around Rajani's shoulders and touched his left hand to Will's forehead. "See her with my eyes. Look beyond her surface, and see inside her."
George gave Rajani's hand a squeeze and whispered conspiratorially to her. "Open yourself to him. Let him in."
Rajani nodded and purposely pulled her defenses down. She sensed his probing. It came feebly, yet with enough substance that she knew he would be strong if he learned how to control his abilities. She sent confidence and praise back through the link they had established, which made Will smile for a second before he blanched and stared intently out the window.
"He will learn, little sister. He will learn." George let a wheezy laugh spring melodically from his throat. "This person you are to warn, who is he?"
Rajani shrugged. "I am uncertain, but . . ." She recalled the search drones and their check-pattern for people. "I think I want to find Coyote."
Will stiffened and even George seemed to be momentarily sobered by her suggestion. Will's foot pressed down on the gas a bit further. "Coyote, did you say?"
Rajani nodded. "Do you know him? He's in grave danger."
George shook his head. "We know of him. He is a legend. Some say he is dead, and others say he has come back after he killed himself. He was instrumental in defeating the monster in Phoenix."
"Fiddleback."
"The Recluse." George smiled, and his eyes focused distantly. "An appropriate name for one who manipulates from afar."
"So you can get me to Coyote?"
The old man shook his head. "We do not know where he is."
Rajani slumped down into the shell of her leather jacket. "Oh."
George winked at her. "We do, however, know of someone who, rumor has it, knows him."
Will looked over. "We do?"
"Drive, Will. We are making a slight detour." The old man interlaced his fingers and bridged them outward, cracking his knuckles. "We may not be much in comparison to Fiddleback, but if I can be a pebble in his shoe, I will be very happy."
Rajani could not shake her feeling of unease as she and George walked down the dimly lit corridor on the 10th floor of Phoenix General. Will had parked at the base of the tower and let them out, but his grandfather refused to let him accompany them. "What I have to do is best done with only two."
She'd not known what the old man meant, but as they approached the tower she sensed his aura changing. It dulled, then expanded and enfolded her when he took her hand. George smiled and marched boldly on toward the hospital. He hesitated until two EMTs caused the automatic doors to open, then he pushed on through into the crowded emergency-room lobby.
Rajani watched in stunned silence as the Native American walked through the lines of bleeding and moaning patients without notice. He slipped around behind the admitting desk and quietly typed a name into the computer. Information came up over the screen, and he smiled. As the admitting clerk turned back toward her terminal, he picked up a pencil and dropped it, distracting her while he blanked the screen and retreated.
Without saying a word, he led her over to a bank of elevators. As with the doors, he waited until the elevator opened to let passengers out, then he and Rajani entered the box. He hit the button marked 10, then let her hand go. The doors closed, and they began their ascent.
"How did you do that? Did you make us invisible?"
George shook his head and wheezed. "No, I made us improbable."
Rajani frowned. "Improbable?"
"All of them, guards, nurses, clerks and patients saw us. What I allowed them to see was an old Indian man walking hand-in-hand through the hospital well after visiting hours with an extraterrestrial fugitive being hunted by the government." He smiled as she blinked in shock. "Of course, such a thing is utterly improbable, and I increased their confidence in that conclusion. Because they knew they could not have, in fact, seen such a thing, and because at 2 A.M., the mind begins to play tricks on them. They refused to believe it."
The elevator's bell dinged, and the doors slid open. George started down the hallway, then took a turn around the nurses' station and headed off toward the northern wing. With her following closely and quietly, they walked down to Room 42 and, ignoring the 'No Admittance' sign, George opened the door. Glancing at the cardboard nameplate in the door bracket, Rajani trailed after him.
An undercurrent of physical pain ran beneath the troubled sensation Rajani got from the large African-American lying in the bed. Twin IV bottles dripped liquids into him, and another tube appeared to be sucking fluid from his left lung. In the darkness, his black skin became an ebon sheet pulled tight across his face. An oxygen tube ran below his nose, but the ragged sound of his breathing sent a shiver down Rajani's spine.
George's face focused down into a frown. He held his hands out as he approached the left side of the bed. They moved fluidly over the man's body, hovering an inch or so above him except where they dipped toward his chest. The Native American grunted, then shook his head. "He should be mending, but his will to live is ebbing."
The man's eyes fluttered open. "Who?" he croaked hoarsely.
Rajani sent out waves of reassurance as she approached the right side of his bed. "We have come a long way. I am told you know Coyote."
The big man nodded weakly. "Coyote." He snorted out a breath, and Rajani caught a flash of mental anguish. Images of a beautiful woman crystallized in her brain, then dissolved in blood.
Rajani stared at him, confused. "Coyote had your wife killed?"
"No, no." The man swallowed hard. "He couldn't prevent it. They only told me two days ago. Didn't know."
"I need Coyote's help, Mr. Garret!" Rajani gently grasped the fingers of his massive right hand. "Coyote is in grave danger from Fiddleback."
Something sparked in Garrett's dark eyes. "Fiddleback? Coyote is not here."
"I need to find him. Can you tell me where?"
Garrett shook his head. "There are people you need to meet, but I can't take you."
Rajani frowned. "Why not?"
"Little sister, his wounds are too grave." George lifted up the edge of the sheet and Rajani saw darkness tinging the outline of the tube i
n the man's chest, "It will be months before he goes anywhere."
"We don't have months," Rajani shot back.
"You don't have minutes," snarled a young, blond punk pushing the door open. He and a confederate slid through the narrow opening and allowed the door to close behind them. Each wore dark boots and gray jodhpurs with suspenders. The leader carried a submachine-gun of a particularly compact and ugly look, while the woman behind him held up a blocky automatic pistol with a thick cylinder grafted on to the muzzle.
She purred like a cat. "Looks like a three-for-one, Karl."
"Warriors," Hal whispered and slumped down in his bed. Rajani sensed his desire to fight, but hopelessness overwhelmed him.
"That's right, Garrett. We're here to finish the job. Waited a bit for the heat to come off."
Rajani smiled at Karl as she caught the image of a hulking man swim through his mind. "And for Mr. Garrett to be left helpless and alone."
"Save it, bitch. Defiance won't even make it into your epitaph." The gunman stepped back from the foot of the bed and waved his female companion forward. "Heidi, the honor is yours."
The blonde woman made a great show of mechanically pulling the slide on the pistol back, then letting it pop forward. The sound made Rajani shudder and she sensed a bit of pleasure from the woman at her reaction. Rajani glanced over at George to see if he had picked up the same sensation, but his eyes had glazed over, and Rajani felt nothing at all from him.
"Hal Garrett, you have been sentenced to death by the Warriors of the Aryan World Alliance." She extended her right arm and slowly let her forearm drop down so the gun pointed at Hal's head. "You are guilty of crimes against the Aryan nation, and you will pay for your treason. Your co-conspirators will die with you."
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