—
III
—
What pushed its way through the stand of trees resembled a ham split down the middle. It was easily fifty feet high. As for its length, that was unclear—it stretched back into the forest. D noticed that above them and below them, to their left and to their right, innumerable forms were running or flying toward it. Rabbits, fox monsters, forest hippos, bristle beasts, fire tigers, flying snakes, air squids—the kind of menagerie that could be found only on the Frontier. And it was obvious that all of them had been drawn by the “control smoke.”
A small hole opened in the center of the sharp, semicircular muzzle, and then spread across its entirety. All the creatures, large and small, were sucked in. Once the last of them had disappeared, the bizarre mouth—or entrance—returned to normal, and the enormous creature wriggled like a titanic serpent as it vanished back through the stand of trees.
Putting his left hand against the crown of the giant’s head, D returned Beatrice to consciousness. And then he broke into a run. Beatrice followed him. Reaching the rolled magneto car, D easily righted the vehicle. This time, he took the driver’s seat.
“Oh, yeah!” Beatrice exclaimed, seating himself in the back.
D stepped on the accelerator. They didn’t move. Though he made five attempts in a row, the result was the same every time.
“You said it was perfect, didn’t you?” D said softly, giving Beatrice a look.
“I thought so. There’s gotta be some mistake. It can’t be my repairs. The car’s the problem.”
“The whole point of repairs is to fix the problems.”
The gigantic warrior growled.
D quickly alighted from the defective vehicle. At the same time, he bounded off the ground. That was normal for D, but Beatrice did likewise.
Where the two of them had been, nearly a hundred slender blow darts jabbed into the ground. White smoke poured from the earth.
The blow darts had come from all sides. As the two dashed toward the only safe zone—the point at which the enormous serpent had disappeared—gleaming darts pursued them. The blow darts D fended off with the hem of his coat fell to the ground, while those that stuck into Beatrice fell free again. He’d applied a fresh layer of the protective spray before entering the forest.
Out of the trees dropped figures with machetes in hand. Beneath them, D’s right hand flashed into action. By the time a bloody cloud had engulfed each and every bisected torso, D had already dashed off.
Next to the Hunter, there was the endless staccato of gunfire: Beatrice and his machine gun. Even carrying a twenty-pound gun and more than a hundred pounds of ammunition, he still kept pace with D. What’s more, not a bullet fired at their scattering foes went to waste. With short bursts of three rounds each, he took them down surgically.
Suddenly, their way was blocked by enormous figures in gray. It was said ten-foot-tall soldiers like these had been created to suit the Nobility’s own tastes. They already had the longswords in their right hands raised high.
As a blade seared through the air, D was beneath it with his own sword ready to parry, though it didn’t look up to the task. The instant the swords crashed together, D’s blade shot upward. His arms raised as if in a cheer, he made a second strike. He cut halfway through one giant’s torso. Ignoring its titanic frame as it fell with a force that made the earth tremble, D leapt, evading the sword of a second one and slashing him open from the top of his head all the way down to his sternum. Beatrice gunned down two more.
The giants fell back. They formed a ring, with their two foes in the center.
“Maybe they wanna talk this out, you think?” Beatrice said, using one hand to mop the sweat from his brow.
“Can you come up with terms for a cease-fire?” the hoarse voice asked.
“Here they come,” said D.
In front of the giants who’d tasted his sword, new gigantic forms appeared. Above their heads they held wooden clubs covered with barbs. They swung them wildly toward the ground. The reverberations that rose from the depths of the earth knocked Beatrice on his side. There was another blow—and not only did the shock of the impact throw the warrior into the air, but it completely upset his inner sense of balance. He was vomiting before he even had a chance to try to keep it in. This was no time for firing his machine gun. His internal organs felt like they’d been flipped upside down and turned inside out.
But a hand with a grip like steel grabbed the warrior by the scruff of the neck. It was D, his face clearly distorted with pain.
“If this keeps up, my guts are gonna . . .”
Nevertheless, there was nowhere to run.
They were standing on the ground. Beatrice immediately felt himself being hurled into the air. His innards settled down. At that moment, he realized what he was supposed to do. From fifteen feet in the air, he opened fire on the ring of giants. Two of them dropped to their knees. The circle was broken.
D sprinted. Becoming a black gale, he wove his way between the giants. In the span of two breaths, all of them lay on the ground.
Turning, the Hunter saw Beatrice running toward him. Behind the warrior came the sound of footsteps crushing forward like a tidal wave. Since the giants had failed, the forward guard had been sent in.
“Yee-haw!” Beatrice shouted, and he was just bringing his machine gun to bear on them when he was asked an odd question.
“Can you climb trees?”
“Huh?”
By the time the warrior replied, the Hunter was flying like a black supernatural bird to land on a thick branch in a colossal tree.
“Well, let’s see how he does,” the hoarse voice said with amusement, and just then, Beatrice leapt onto a massive branch in another tree about ten feet away. “Wow, carrying the gun and ammo, to boot. Not too shabby.”
It was at this point that figures in green appeared from the direction D and the warrior were facing. In the light of dawn, the soldiers crashed together like waves of gray and green. Battle cries, gunshots, and the ring of steel on steel filled the forest, and occasionally flashes of what seemed to be lasers streaked across the dawn sky.
“Hey!” Beatrice called over. His hand was over his lips, and the words themselves didn’t escape. It was a means of conversing unique to Hunters. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Looks like father and son have locked horns. We’ll look for an opening, and then get going,” D replied in the same voiceless manner. He didn’t even have his hand up to his mouth.
“Oh, it seems such a waste to just run off,” Beatrice responded.
Nothing from the Hunter.
“Look how fierce the fighting is. To the rear, it’s gotta be just as chaotic. I’m gonna go filch us some transportation. Don’t try to stop me!”
And saying this, Beatrice leapt down into the eddying melee without even waiting for a reply. He was soon swallowed up by the chaos of swordplay, shooting, and grappling.
“Ain’t he the reckless one,” the hoarse voice remarked, dumbfounded.
Not replying, D merely kept his gaze trained where Beatrice had vanished. Whether he was worried about the warrior and intended to stop him were the real questions. Even the ever-intensifying battle below grew calm before long, with only groans flowing out into the forest by the rays of dawn, and those also quickly ceased.
“That’s an awful lot of death for the start of a day,” the hoarse voice said, and it too sounded weary.
D easily alighted from the massive branch.
“Ol’ sissy name’s not coming back, is he?” the hoarse voice whined.
“Is that what you think?”
“You think I’m wrong?”
D turned his head slightly. He turned his left hand in the same direction.
“Eh?” the hoarse voice exclaimed, as it heard the sound of an approaching engine.
Before long, an incredibly outdated internal-combustion-driven single-seat vehicle with two wheels—in other words, a motorcycle—deftly wov
e its way through the corpses to stop beside the Hunter.
“Heya!” said Beatrice, of course, lifting his goggles up onto the leather helmet. He wore a leather jacket as well, and he had the machine gun and ammo in his right hand.
A wry smile wafted to D’s lips. He realized he’d underestimated Beatrice’s startling ability to procure things.
“Well, hop on! The magneto car didn’t work out too well, but this baby’s easy to drive and fix.”
Saying nothing as he watched the enormous warrior slap the seat behind him, D got on.
“Hmm, your legs have no problem touching the ground, eh? Kinda strange how all your height’s in them instead of your trunk. Well, this’ll probably toss your guts around pretty good. Ha ha ha!”
Quite pleased with himself, the cackling Beatrice clutched his belly as he started the bike.
“We’ll cut through the forest for a ways.”
Skillfully weaving between stands of trees, they sped along.
After a while, D said, “Looks like your right hand’s carrying quite a load.” It was rare for him to make such a comment.
“And?”
“Would you like to pass it to me?”
“Sorry, but it’s just not in my nature to trust folks. Let’s say you were to drop it, and then I needed it. I wouldn’t blame you, but I’d be mad as hell with myself for being so stupid. Don’t worry. Both my arms have had cyborg upgrades. You know, back in my old job—huh?”
The faces of both men turned simultaneously toward the highway—or the sky above it, to be precise. A stocky flying machine was zipping along there. The rapidly dwindling craft had a small window at its center, and through it they saw someone.
“That’s Stanza!” Beatrice said, clucking his tongue. “Those idiots. That’s what they get for lying around. I bet they’re both in there!”
“Probably.”
“Where do you think they’re headed?”
“The ruins, most likely. It was green.”
The flying machine had been painted in Grand Duke Dorleac’s color.
Seeming blinded by the light, Beatrice looked up at the dawn sky and said, “They went to the trouble of taking ’em prisoner. I don’t figure they’ll kill ’em soon. More than that, I’m worried about whoever took refuge in the castle ruins earlier.” He paused for a moment. “Because I get the feeling that freak’s got one hell of an appetite.”
There was no reply. This in itself signaled the Hunter’s agreement.
Suddenly, Beatrice’s form stiffened. “That big vacuum-cleaner deal earlier—that’s not . . . I mean, that monstrosity . . . it’s just sucking up living creatures indiscriminately . . .”
“You know it.”
“I thought I told you to stop using that creepy old voice,” Beatrice shouted. “Imagine dozens of those things. If left to their own devices, they’d drain all the life not just out of this area, but from the whole damned planet!” he said in a horrified manner. “And all of it gets sucked up by Dorleac . . .”
“Step on it. At this rate, we’ll be there by noon!”
“Quit it with that geezer voice!” Beatrice shouted, twisting the throttle as if to shake off his fears.
UNHOLY FATHER AND SON
CHAPTER 8
—
I
—
Just as a shadow seemed to scud across the sun, a milky hue began to drift through the world. A fog.
“Here it comes! Here it comes!” Beatrice shouted, almost singing the words.
The motorcycle slowed down.
“According to my notebook, they were in this stuff when the first three bought the farm,” the warrior said, raising the machine gun he’d been carrying. Setting the barrel on top of the handlebars, he shifted it slightly, testing how the weapon would react.
“You can’t slay a Noble with that,” D told the man.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got that covered,” Beatrice replied, tapping the chest of his leather jacket. There was the sound of wood knocking on wood. “Get off. There’s no point broadcasting our location. It was just ahead where we got hit.”
“Do you remember what killed them?” D inquired.
“Not at all. But it said in my notes that all of ’em had their necks split open. I caught my sleeve on a branch, which slowed me down and apparently saved me. According to three who got away—”
The milky hue stained everything before the pair. The fog was gusting toward them.
“What the hell?” Beatrice cried, but even before he did, he’d raised both hands. The blade that slashed against the machine gun made a terrific noise and gave off sparks as it was deflected.
The enemy was in the fog.
No freaking time to get into position, Beatrice thought, swinging the weapon over his head and at the figure before him. It collided with the blade that was coming at him again, leaving his opponent reeling. But his foe didn’t fall.
This here’s a tough bastard. Just like me.
Inspiration instantly struck him, and Beatrice charged forward. With his second step, he pulled out one of the wooden stakes he had stuck in his leather jacket, and around the third or fourth step he rammed it toward his opponent’s chest. His left hand pushed away his foe’s sword.
The stake struck his opponent between the sixth and seventh ribs, piercing his heart. A cry flew from him, and he shuddered from head to toe. Ignoring the warrior’s hand and trying to pull the stake back out, the foe kicked off the ground powerfully. Before his opponent could retreat, all but the portion of the stake in Beatrice’s fist had been buried in his chest.
As his enemy fell on his back, bright blood gushed from his mouth. The shock of the body hitting the ground cleared the fog, showing Beatrice the form of his enemy. He was stunned—but he also thought, I was right after all.
One of the survivors, a man named Joseph, had told the warrior they’d been attacked by copies of themselves.
Beatrice looked at D. The Hunter was just sheathing his blade. A figure in black lay at his feet. Although the returning fog kept the warrior from seeing the face, he did get a glimpse of his hand and sword blade. He had the exact same sword as D.
“Hey, D?”
“So, the figures reflected in the fog are our enemies?” said the same quiet voice as always, setting Beatrice at ease.
“Well, looks like we managed to take care of these ones. But the master of the castle has come back to life. No telling what in blazes is in store for us now.”
“Why don’t you turn back, then?”
“Oh, I wish to hell I could. But, you see, I tend to let the drink get the best of me.”
“You don’t say?” the hoarse voice remarked.
“Knock if off with that voice!”
“So, what does that have to do with this?” D asked, apparently taking an interest. It wasn’t often that he did that.
“Every time I hit a watering hole, I ended up asking some woman there to marry me. By the time I realized they were after my money, I’d already gone through seven wives. As a result, I’m flat broke. So I figured I’d do something to take care of myself in my old age.”
The two men began walking through the fog.
“You know the way?” the hoarse voice inquired.
Though Beatrice gave the Hunter a protracted glare, he seemed resigned, saying nothing but giving a toss of his chin in the forward direction.
They wove through the stands of trees in silence.
“Hey, are you sure about this?” the hoarse voice teased.
Turning around, Beatrice barked, “Put a cork in it! This part I can remember well enough. Just shut up and follow me.”
The warrior seemed to have absolute confidence in the memories he’d laid down in his notebook.
“It was thirteen years ago you were here. The trees and branches must’ve changed some since then,” the hoarse voice said.
“I’m aware of that. It should all be in the notebook. And stop saying everything in that freaking weird voice!�
��
“Just as I thought,” said D after the undignified exchange. “Beatrice Gilbey—it seems everyone who ever underestimated you because you had a girl’s name wound up missing or dead.”
“You’ve got the wrong guy,” the warrior replied with a big laugh that seemed to get a lot of use. He didn’t realize that a grin had skimmed across D’s lips. “I’m not someone powerful like that. I am just a lousy, third-rate Hunter. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t need money so bad I had to go back to that God-awful place.”
“You’re earning money for tuition,” the hoarse voice said.
“This is kind of strange,” Beatrice said, rubbing his beard and changing the topic. “Not many of those damn mercs around, are there? I can’t help thinking how odd it is we’ve been able to go through the forest so easily.”
“They haven’t fully awakened yet,” said D.
“What?”
When Beatrice looked back at him, D continued, “I’m not talking about the spirits of Dorleac and his son. I mean the power that resurrected the mercenaries.”
“I see. So it’s kind of groggy? Interesting. That’d make sense, I suppose. But if that’s the case, we’ll be in for some real trouble before long. I don’t know how large these armies will get, but if they meet head on, forget this sector; they’ll leave the whole Frontier in flames!”
The warrior halted. When he turned again, his face was plastered with the expression of an average person who’d been confronted with a horrible truth.
“Under these circumstances, rescuing those hostages isn’t gonna do squat. This is turning into another job altogether.”
What that was went without saying. Dorleac and his son would have to be slain if the Frontier was to be saved from destruction.
“At any rate, it’ll be impossible to rescue the hostages without fighting the two of them. Are you scared?” D asked.
“You bet your ass I am! Not every Hunter in the world’s like you, you know!” Scratching the back of his head in frustration, the gigantic warrior said soberly, “Say . . . You think I could collect the Nobility disposal fee from the mayor?”
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