Evil Ascending

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Only one of the gorfash seemed unpanicked by the surprise, and he flew through the darkness like a creature born to it. He held his arms and legs wide, both to cut his speed and prepare for landing. He let his body begin to rotate forward, and Coyote saw him orient himself to absorb the shock of the landing on his strong arms and smaller set of muscular legs.

  The gorfash hit solidly off to Coyote's right and a little below his position on the hill. He heard scrambling through the brush, then saw the four-armed silhouette rise up at the edge of the grassy circle where he'd landed. The gorfash bellowed out a challenge and Coyote chuckled as he raised the Wildey.

  The gorfash charged at the same instant Coyote saw the Wildey's slide was locked back in the open position. Empty! He pulled his feet up and rolled away from the line of the creature's attack, but he knew it was too late. Turning back around to face the monster, his left hand clawing for the Krait holstered on that hip, Coyote steeled himself for death.

  Something intervened. Two hands grasped him around the ribs from behind and tossed him to the right. Flying through the darkness, Coyote heard the dry whisper of something moving very fast through the air, then a thick, wet, hollow thunk. The gorfash's bellowing died in a gurgle, then Coyote heard a heavy crunch as the monster hit the ground.

  Coyote tucked himself into a ball to roll off the energy of his fall. He set himself into a crouch and returned the Wildey to its holster. Pulling one Krait, he trained it on the dark outline of the gorfash that had almost killed him, then slowly closed with it. The musky scent mixed with the sweet odor of blood turned his stomach, but he kept moving in closer.

  He stepped over the lower end of its body and saw it was lying facedown. Halfway up on its right side, beneath the lower armpit, a ragged wound ran from spine to flank. Dropping to one knee beside the dead creature, Coyote shifted the Krait to his left hand and probed the wound with his right. That's clean through. Cut the spine and splintered some ribs. Got lung and probably heart—this thing had to have a huge heart, maybe more than one.

  He ran his fingers through the thick pelt. With this fur to absorb some of the impact and the size of the creature, it would take something like a poleax to do this much damage. Coyote's eyes narrowed. A poleax or a naginata. Who—or what—was out here?

  Coyote's pistol came up as Mong broke through the brush. "Kyi-can, are you hurt?"

  "Marei. I escaped injury. You?"

  "I am fine. Come, we must go." Mong waved him forward urgently. "There are things that may track us from this place. Much power was used here tonight."

  Coyote dimly recalled Crowley having made a similar statement after another dimensional encounter. "Too much power or too much violence?"

  "Both. And there are things that are attracted by both. Come." Mong reached out and grabbed his left wrist. A searing yellow line split the landscape like a tear in a movie screen. Mong yanked him through it, and Coyote caught a brief glimpse of the gray proto-dimension a second before both of them dropped to their feet on the floor of his monastery chamber.

  Mong released him. "For what you did today, I thank you. Two monks will live."

  Coyote nodded his head. "There was no real option for me."

  "Yes there was." Mong's face tightened. "You could have, should have, obeyed me. You are good at traveling through dimensions and could be, in fact, good enough to mount an assault on Fiddleback's home, but not yet. Here you know the rules, so your impulses are often correct and even meritorious. Away from here, though, they can get you killed."

  Coyote waited five minutes after Mong left, then headed straight for the training room. He found it empty, but this did not surprise him at all. Employing the pocket flashlight that he had brought with him to Tibet, he descended the stairs, then swept it along the weapons' walls. As he got to the pole weapons section he smiled when he saw a naginata with a new haft.

  Above it hung an older weapon of a similar design. He pulled it down and inspected the long, sharp blade. Despite its obvious antiquity, it had no nicks in it. It looked clean, and he wished he had access to the equipment in the secret room of his home in Phoenix. "A little chemical spray and a blacklight and we'd see if you've been blooded."

  He played the light over the blade again, then paid special attention to the guard on it. There, deep in where the blade had been joined to the haft, he saw a piece of a thick fiber. Again he wished for equipment he didn't have with him, but this time he wanted it just to confirm what he already knew.

  That's from the gorfash's hide. He returned the naginata to its place on the wall and turned out his light. The Yidam I fought in here tried to kill me and it used a naginata. Something, using a naginata, saved me tonight in gorfashland. Why the sudden reversal? Coyote shrugged at his own question. And what will it do next time?

  Straightening his tie, Sinclair MacNeal approached the secretary. He tugged at the left sleeve of his jacket to make sure it hid the wrist recorder Lilith had finally gotten to him. Smiling, he stopped in front of the desk. "Sinclair MacNeal to see Ken Martin."

  The brown-haired secretary looked up and pursed his lips. "Do you have an appointment?"

  "No. Just tell Mr. Martin I'm here. This will only take a minute."

  The slender man shook his head. "No appointment, no visit. Sorry. That's policy."

  Sin sighed. "Mr. Martin will vary his policy for me. Trust me."

  "I have scars from the last time I trusted someone, Mr. MacNeal." The secretary glanced down at his appointment book. "Besides, the policy is Dutch Allied Chemicals' policy, not Mr. Martin's. I can get you in a week from Tuesday."

  Great I have a mission for the emperor and will save the world and some secretary is going to keep me from step one. Sin reinforced the smile on his face. "Look, tell Mr. Martin . . ."

  "Is this going to be some sort of pseudo-spy code word thing?" The secretary covered his feigned yawn with a long-fingered hand. "I'm afraid we don't do James Bond here."

  Sin's nostrils flared. "You know, the last time Kip and I went deep-sea fishing, we used a guy just like you for bait. He was shorter, so we only got mako sharks. With you, I figure a great white."

  The secretary blanched quickly. With a pencil, he scratched a line through a name in the book. "Looks like the 8:15 just canceled." He hit an intercom button. "A Mr. Sinclair MacNeal to see you, sir."

  "Sinclair MacNeal?" blasted back a tinny voice. "Well, I'll be. Send him in."

  Sin opened the door to the office beyond the secretary's station and smiled as Kip Martin stood behind his walnut desk. The stocky man rolled the sleeves down on his white shirt, then came around the edge of the desk and offered Sin his hand. "Good to see you, Sin." The man smiled and shook his head. "Never figured it would be this side of the Hawaiian lake, but you're looking good."

  Sin pumped the man's hand. "So are you, Kip. Nice office."

  Kip smiled proudly and opened his arms to take it all in. "Long way from where I started with you."

  Walnut paneling covered three of the walls and, in turn, was covered by several lithographs of sailing ships and a huge mounted sailfish directly across from the desk. Beneath the fish Sin saw a number of framed photographs that showed Kip with celebrities and fish they'd harvested from the ocean. Sin couldn't recognize a couple of the types of fish, but he knew Kip would tell him all about them if he got the chance.

  The fourth wall, which stood behind the desk, had a panoramic view of Tokyo from Kimpunshima. The city looked largely like a land of gray stalagmites and smoky haze, but there was some variation there. From between several buildings, Sin saw hints of the green preserve surrounding the emperor's palace. Likewise, some blue ocean peeked up from the bay and the cloudy haze occasionally parted to let other glimpses of blue through.

  "Hey, buddy, you studied hard to get ahead. When we brought you on as a security accountant, I knew you were destined for better things." Sin broke their grip and dropped himself into the chair in front of Kip's desk. "They working you hard?"


  Kip shrugged somewhat wearily. "Usual 7 to 7 drag."

  "They have you working Japanese hours?"

  "Sort of. I get an hour for lunch, and I don't have to come in on Saturday." Kip smiled. "Other guys head out to the links, I take a fishing charter out."

  Sin frowned. "I'd a thought you'd own your own boat now."

  "You know what they say: A boat is a hole in the water into which you throw money." Kip's mood downshifted from jovial to neutral. "Had one for a while, actually, it was a steal, but I lost it."

  "What happened?"

  The man's eyes focused on where his hands rested in his lap. "I don't know. I was out and hooked something. It was big, really big." He looked up but didn't focus his eyes on Sin. "I guess it was also pissed. I woke up about a week later when they wheeled me out of an intensive-care unit. Don't fish outside the harbor much now."

  "That's bad news. How's Susan?"

  Kip's face fell a bit further. "She ran off with the intern who treated me."

  "That's bad." Resting his elbows on his knees, Sin leaned forward. "You should have let me know, bud."

  "What could you have done about it, Sin? Besides, it wasn't her fault. When she married me, I was a 10 to 2 American accountant making decent bucks. The move here allowed her to see a lot of the world, but not much of me. We grew apart."

  I never guessed his life was such a mess. "I don't think I'm going to ask anything more because I've got one last strike before I'm out."

  Kip's smile returned and his mood lightened. "Hey, no blood, no foul, my friend. I met my present wife, Miko, through an executive matching service here. She's native-born and grew up in a traditional family. She loves my ass and doesn't mind the long hours I put in. Every night it's a good meal, hot tub, massage and lights out." He patted his belly. "The living don't get much better than this."

  "Great, man, really great." Sin leaned back with a genuine smile on his face. "Nobody deserves better than you."

  "Thanks." Kip leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, what are you doing in Japan? I heard a rumor that you were seen at a party in Kimpunshima a week ago. I tried to check up on you to see if it was true, but the lead on the flight attendant they said you were with fell through. It's like she dropped off the edge of the Earth. Same with you."

  "I'm here, Kip, in the flesh. I'm working for Lorica Industries. They hired me on as a consultant in all sorts of things. Right now, the new CEO—everyone calls him Mikie 'cept to his face—is thinking of buying a chunk of Kimpunshima. He's sent me over to figure out the lay of the land. He wants to know how much it's changed since I was here. He wants me to get current with everything our people will run into here."

  "Tall order."

  "True enough, but I've got an expense account that will let me reach to the very top." Sin winked at his friend. "I've got to cover everything from the hottest and most chic restaurants to, I don't know, this Galbro stuff that was being talked about at the party. I figured I could use another opinion, and I value yours."

  Kip leaned back and brought his hands together in a gesture Sin recognized from the past. Something is bothering him. "Spill it, Kip."

  "I'll be happy to snarf down as much food as you want to point in my direction, my friend, and Lorica will find that I know some truly exotic places to while away your time and their money."

  "But?"

  Kip frowned. "I'd leave the Galbro Institute alone. They're weird people, and they're into very strange stuff."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Kip pointed off toward the closed door and the secretary beyond it. "Before Mr. Congeniality out there, I had a real secretary. Janny Pigot was her name. Really efficient and had a smashing personality. Wasn't quite the looker she wanted to be—still had scars from childhood acne—but she was great. I would have dated her after Susan left, but DAC doesn't allow that and, quite frankly, I valued her more as my secretary.

  "Anyway, she accepts an invitation to one of the Galbro weekend retreats in their center here. She was all excited about it and on Monday she returned a bit exhausted, but just brimming full of stuff. She and I normally chatted over coffee in the morning, and that day I couldn't get her to shut up. It was all sorts of crazy stuff, and I knew it was trouble right away."

  Sin frowned. "What kind of crazy stuff?"

  "Real crazy stuff, Sin." Kip opened his hands in a sign of disbelief. "I can't remember all of it, but in the middle she dropped a bombshell: My boat had been destroyed because I'd hooked a gray starship on a covert mission to the center at the bottom of the ocean. She told me that good aliens had rescued me and placed me on the shore amid the wreckage of my boat."

  Sin laughed. "And you don't believe her?"

  Kip swung his right leg up onto his desk and pulled up the pant leg. "I dunno. If you ever see an alien that can do this, let me know." Yanking down his black sock, Kip exposed a puckered circular wound on his leg.

  "Sucker mark. Looks like a squid tried to hitch a ride."

  "Big squid. My boat was a 30-footer and my hip was dislocated." He pulled his sock back up, lowered his pant leg and pulled his foot off the desk. "Those facts didn't dissuade Janny. She went back for more, and back and back. Then weird things started happening, like files going missing for a day or two and copier counts not matching the numbers of copies ordered. Little stuff, pilfering, you know."

  Sin nodded. "You think she was turning information over to these people?"

  "No, but I think she was working on collecting evidence to convince me they were right. She started wandering around in her own dream world. She began to act paranoid, like refusing to answer the phone if it rang at seven minutes after the hour." He shrugged. "I had to let her go. Galbro hired her. I understand she's Arrigo El-Leichter's personal secretary now."

  Sin shook his head. "That's bizarre."

  "You'd do well to take a pass on it."

  "I agree, but I don't know that I can." Sin smiled weakly. "A man I knew once, Joe Ybarra, said, 'Always do the hardest part of the job first.' If I check out one of these seminar things I can give it a big black star, then move on to the easy stuff. You understand, right?"

  Kip nodded. "Right. I can pitch you in the direction of a recruiter for them. You can be in this weekend, if you want."

  "Thanks. What are you doing for dinner? Can I take you and Miko out?"

  "Not tonight, Sin." Kip fingered a pile of envelopes on his desk. "She's in Osaka visiting her mother. I, on the other hand, have tickets for the Daizaimoku Ospreys versus the Honchin Dragons. Want to go?"

  "Corporate Basketball?" Sin chuckled lightly. "I haven't seen a game since I was here last."

  "Ospreys are the home team, and they're being coached by Kevin Johnson. You might remember him; he was a Phoenix Sun."

  "Yeah, I think I saw him play when I was 10. Sounds good. When?"

  Kip glanced at his watch and then his schedule book. "Meet me here at 6. I'm skipping lunch today so I can go to the game."

  Sin stood and headed toward the door. "Six, got it. I'll be exploring Kimpunshima until then."

  "Hey, Sin," Kip called to him.

  "Yes?"

  "If you see any aliens during your wanderings," he laughed, "ask them who their insurance agents are so I can make a claim for my boat."

  Rajani decided that Hal Garrett had impressed her. Despite still needing time to heal up even after what she had done, he had pushed himself to ensure no one followed them from the hospital. On the drive away, he had Will pull up to a "drive-by" pay phone. His call had been short and curt, with code words being exchanged for less than a half minute. When he hung up, he gave Will some directions, then lay back down in the bed of the truck.

  Rajani lost complete track of where they were within the dark world of Eclipse. The ceiling of photovoltaic cells 100 feet above her head transformed the whole undercity into a dirty, forbidding world of perpetual night. Looking up, she could see man-sized nests clinging to the undersides of panels and jury-rigged walkways betwe
en buildings. Bonfires dotted the landscape despite the choking heat and, while she welcomed the warmth, she could see it made Hal very uncomfortable.

  Neon signs provided more light than the few unbroken streetlights scattered around the city. A secondary set of roads almost halfway up to the ceiling looked largely untraveled and, when she did see a car up there, it looked sleeker and newer than anything in the thick traffic stream surrounding the pickup truck. Traveling amid the squalor and noise of Eclipse, she wondered if, in fact, Fiddleback had not already won the battle for Phoenix.

  Will let them out of the truck at a dark intersection. He offered Garrett the shotgun, but Hal shook his head and leaned heavily against a lamp post. "Not necessary. Thank you for your help. Now, get out of here."

  Rajani gave George a big hug. "Thank you for believing me and helping."

  The old man winked at her and climbed back into the truck. "Believe in yourself, little sister. Fiddleback doesn't know it, but his days are numbered and closing fast on single digits."

  As the truck lurched away, a number of individuals seeped out of the shadows and slowly started ambling toward the two of them. Rajani's night vision let her see that these young men were African-Americans like Hal, but they had been altered in subtle ways. She noticed it first in how their hands swung freely and heavily at their sides. They have added weight to their hands to aid in hitting. And their faces, cheeks and brow ridges are enlarged to protect their eyes.

  One of the young men moved away from the pack and toward Hal. He raised a clenched fist, and Rajani almost moved to shield Hal before the young man could bludgeon him, but the waves of amusement coming from Garrett stopped her. "What it is, homey," the younger man said.