The Hate Parallax
Page 25
Meanwhile, there was a mountain of work that needed his full attention. Brand straightened his shoulders and strode out of the room.
It was an error the whole Galaxy would soon regret.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Tanya stared up at the stars winking through the transparent dome. She was floating on warm perfumed waters, with wisps of steam— tinted a rosy gold by hidden lights— flowing deliciously around her.
Although she was dressed in a retro-modest one-piece bathing suit, she felt a little naughty knowing two handsome men were watching her from opposite sides of the private grotto.
She smiled, thinking, this was definitely the way to do detective work!
Her old college girlfriends certainly wouldn’t be shaking their heads at her choice of careers if they could see her now: basking in the waters of luxury, with not one, but two! good-looking men at her beck and call.
Plus it was all in the line of duty. Of course, it was quite unprofessional of her to be actually enjoying herself. But for crying out loud, she wasn’t made of steel!
She was a normal woman, with normal thoughts and it had been a damned long time since she’d allowed herself those kind of feelings.
Tanya had blown a large part of her expense account on three connecting VIP suites at the Library Of The Universe, where she was ensconced with Davyd and Vlad trying to unravel the mystery of who was behind the attack on HolidayOne.
She supposed she ought to feel guilty wallowing in luxury while the whole galaxy teetered on the edge of war, but it wasn’t her fault their hunt had taken them to such commodious surroundings.
Just as it wasn’t her fault the three suites let into this splendid little warm-spring grotto where they could take their ease while busy servants of knowledge scurried about fetching the data they required to narrow their search.
A favorite vacation resort of wealthy literati, the Library Of The Universe boasted some of the finest hotel accommodations in the galaxy.
The library— which was really an entire artificial world— was the ultimate source of all information, past and present. And if you were really smart, even into the near future.
Set in orbit about Mars, the library was a vast above- and underground repository of electronic and magical databases. Even better were its millions of real books that could be swept into your presence with a single spoken command.
Much effort and several billion LT’s had been lavished on the Library Of The Universe. It was a cultural paradise, with concert halls, nightclubs, galleries, theaters, restaurants and film palaces where history’s best music, art, cuisine and stage and screen dramas were available around the clock in perfectly recreated settings.
Tanya and her two new colleagues had spent a week sampling these pleasures in between long brainstorming sessions which frequently ran into the small hours of the morning.
The grotto was the ideal cure for the exhaustion that typically overcame them after one of these sessions and they’d made a regular habit of visiting it. And the intimacy of their surroundings added greatly to the bonds that had begun to form since their first meeting.
After a week Tanya no longer needed the calming spell that kept Vlad and Davyd from each other’s throats. Her mere presence seemed to accomplish the same thing.
She was acutely aware of them now. Each man drifting on his side of the pool, their attention on the woman between them. Eyes caressing the lush form that defied her costume’s attempt at severity.
Tanya didn’t have to wonder what they were thinking— she was thinking the same thing. Only it was very sweet and very lazy, with no feeling of pressure from either of the men to make a choice.
Even if that choice was not to choose at all.
Just then a comline buzzed and Tanya slipped over on her belly and swam to the edge of the grotto to answer.
Davyd studied her graceful motions appreciatively, delighted by the way her long golden hair trailed in the water like the tail of some mythical beauty of the deeps.
He turned his head and saw Vlad’s gaze returning from the same path.
Their eyes met.
Both men smiled.
And Davyd thought, too bad I’ll have to kill him when this is done.
And Vlad thought, if it weren’t for my orders I might possibly allow this Amer to remain alive.
The men’s smiles broadened.
Both of them looked over at Tanya who was talking to someone on the comline. Then their eyes swept back to meet once again.
The smiles were smaller … and sad.
And Davyd thought, when I kill him I’ll have lost any chance with Tanya.
And Vlad thought, there will be no spoils for the victor. Tanya would hate the one left standing with a bloody knife.
And Davyd thought, Father Zorza gave me his orders. I must carry them out.
And Vlad thought, the Church Of The Sword cannot be denied. The greatest killer in Odysseus Corps could never be allowed to go free.
Meanwhile, Tanya was having difficulties of her own with an order giver.
“Listen, Harry,” she said, “I can’t help it if the brass made you the go-between. I know you didn’t want anything to do with this mission. But they’ve tossed the ball back into your lap and you’re just going to have to live with it.”
Harry said, “Getting a little above ourselves, aren’t we, Major!” His voice was harsh, underscoring the difference in their ranks.
Tanya didn’t care. Although she was grateful Harry couldn’t see the look of scorn on her face. The magical encryption web that shielded their conversation from any attempts at eavesdropping had taken a team of wizards many days to construct. However, only voices could be carried, not pictures.
Tanya kept to the firm high road in her response. “Look, Harry, the brass is going to do what the brass is going to do,” she said.
“And they aren’t going to listen to the complaints of a lowly major. I asked for a policeman’s brain on this mission and they picked you.”
The highest officials of the United Worlds Organization were mostly men and women with diplomatic backgrounds. But this was a police hunt Tanya was conducting. And she badly needed a ranking police official to cut through the red tape at United Worlds Police headquarters.
To her immense disgust, Harry was the only one she could turn to.
Her boss sighed the sigh of a long-suffering man who had been forced into a position where his future was on the line.
“All right, Tanya,” he said. “What do you need?”
“Thanks, Harry, it’s good to have you on my side,” Tanya lied.
“Actually, my request is fairly simple. I just need somebody to put the whip to some bureaucratic bodies to retrieve some UWP reports for me.”
“And those reports are?”
She read off six series of letters and numbers.
Harry whistled, the comline crackling from the shrillness of his surprise.
“I can see why you’re having so much trouble,” he said. “From the coding it’s obvious they’re all top-top secret!”
“Yeah, but there’s no reason for them to be,” Tanya said. “All six terrorist incidents were very public emergencies. Covered by the media in Galaxy-wide broadcasts.
“Yet the UWP reports on those incidents have been buried under enough secrecy seals to make a small, red mountain.”
“What’s to hide, then?” Harry asked.
“The eye-witness reports,” Tanya said. “That’s my suspicion, anyway. In each of these incidents the on-scene UWP investigators did extensive eye-witness interrogations.
“And I think somebody doesn’t want anyone to give those reports a second glance.”
There was a long silence. From experience Tanya knew that on the other side of the line Harry was having a heart attack.
No way did he want to go up against anyone with clout enough to bury evidence so deeply.
Finally, he said, “Exactly what do these … ah, incidents … have to do w
ith your mission?”
Forgetting Harry couldn’t see her, Tanya shrugged. “All six of them,” she said, “have definite things in common with HolidayOne.
“First, they involved attacks on either Russian or American civilian facilities.
“In one case a biobomb was set off at the largest New Ukraine wheat-processing complex. Ten employees dead. Two hundred injured. The entire output of the plant poisoned.
“There was quite a panic, because in normal times about fifty million people depend on that plant to eat. Fortunately, the timing of the attack was off. Most of the harvest had already been processed.
“Even so, despite some pretty heavy-duty investigating the case remains unsolved to this day.”
“I remember that case!” Now Harry sounded surprised. “It was five or six years ago. There was some backchannel grumbling from the Russians that they thought the Americans were to blame. Which we absolutely disproved. It a terrorist attack, no doubt about it. Although no particular group ever made any claims.”
“Same thing with the other five, Harry,” Tanya said. “For instance, two years ago an American spacemall was hit by a rather large meteor.
“Turned out the meteor was man-made and man-directed. The complex was destroyed. More poor timing by the bad guys. The mall wasn’t completed, so only a few constructions workers were killed.
“Again, there were backchannel charges that the Russians did it. Also disproved by us. However, the case is still unsolved … With no suspects … or claimants …
“I could go on, but take my word for it, Harry. They’re all too similar to be ignored.”
Another long pause. Which Tanya correctly assumed was because Harry was considering how much he wanted to get involved in this. How to accomplish his orders, but still keep her at arm’s length to maintain deniability.
Finally, he spoke— “As you suggested, Tanya … I’ll take your word for it.”
Then, trying to sound tough and in charge— “Let me kick some serious ass around here, Tanya. I’ll get those reports to you within twenty four hours.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Tanya said, and despite her feelings about Harry, she meant it.
Even if he acted out of bluster and wounded pride, she could count on him to make the lives of several petty bureaucrats as miserable as possible.
She was about to sign off, when Harry suddenly said— “Wait, Tanya! I almost forgot!”
“What’s that, Harry?”
“I just had a report from the Borodino,” he said. “Apparently that Engine Devil you talked to … and the kid … Billy Ivanov … have gone missing.”
Tanya was shocked. “What do you mean … ‘gone missing?’”
“I know this sounds strange,” Harry said, “but they can’t be found anywhere. Not one trace of them.”
“How could that be?” Tanya asked, confounded. “The Borodino is in the middle of … well, space, dammit! How could they get off without someone knowing?”
“I can’t answer that,” Harry said, and there was a note of satisfaction in his tone. He’d passed the responsibility to her and was swiftly fleeing the scene. “But I have complete faith in you, Tanya,” he continued. “You’ll figure it out.”
Then the comline went dead and Harry was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Brand Carvaserin was standing in the very midst of a huge underground installation, surrounded by an enormous machine.
At first glance it could’ve been mistaken for an huge gas-generator, but it was in fact the body, heart and soul of Project SRN.
As Carvaserin examined it with some pride and satisfaction his only real worry was that the Amers would come up with such a doomsday device first. Surely they were engaged in a similar project. Of this, he had no doubts.
“All posts, report to central point,” he commanded.
“Post one— checkup cleaned,” came the first answer.
It was Old Fisagava-san, the descendent of rebellious Japanese war-mages who had long ago had fled to Mother Russia when their plot to overthrow the government had failed. Fisagava was nearly as powerful a mage as Carvaserin.
“Post two— all in order,” came another voice.
Also aged. And also belonging to a powerful wizard. This was no place for apprentices or minor sorcerers.
Like an echo, the reports continued followed: “Post three… four… five… six… ,” and finally— “Seventh!”
The sacred count was complete. Seven points to control the ultimate magic, which was ready to rush from other dimensions and worlds to be bound, bent and put into service.
And even Brand Carvaserin himself did not dare ponder too long on just how much killing power Project SRN would unleash.
“Very good!” Brand congratulated his colleagues. “Horosho!”
There were murmurs of appreciation from the others. Praise from Brand Carvaserin was quite rare.
When the murmurs had died out, Brand said, “Gentleman, now we must all concentrate on…”
But before he could continue his heart suddenly heaved inside his chest. Brand clutched his breast, doubling over from the intense pain.
A moment’s relief and he straightened, gasping for breath. Then it struck once more, tearing at his heart!
Though he was in caught in the throes of intense pain, Brand realized he wasn’t suffering a heart attack. For each time the sensation ripped at him he smelled the odor of wild magic.
The pain subsided and Brand swiftly raised a hand to warn the others that there was an intruder among them. He wasn’t afraid. A wizard of Brand’s experience and strength was primed for any magical emergency.
Then the terrible sensation tore through him again and he moaned in agony.
Fisagava shouted to the others. “Hurry, comrades. Brand needs our help!”
Fighting to remain conscious, Carvaserin heard his colleagues running to his side.
He only hoped they were in time.
* * *
The young soldier slowly made his rounds, a feeling of dread stalking his heels. The moon was high. And there were few lights in the windows of the distant settlement.
The air seemed heavy and filled with a strange odor. Gregor wondered, what could it be?
Then he shivered as he suddenly remembered what a corpse in a morgue smelled like.
Gregor forced himself onward, continuing his patrol. As he walked it seemed to him that a black cavern was opening under his feet.
It was only his imagination, of course. But the tremendous depths he saw in his mind were like a magnet— stretching out invisible hands, calling the soldier.
Promising untold wonders.
Far away the other guard dogs were howling. And behind the young soldier, Fang crept along in Gregor’s shadow, whimpering and almost crawling.
Oh, if the dog could only speak!
* * *
The wave of pain loosened its grip and Carvaserin sagged in relief.
“I’m all right,” he protested to his colleagues, who were holding him so he wouldn’t collapse.
Fisagava looked at Brand’s bloodless face and trembling hands.
“You don’t look all right to me, comrade,” he said. “In fact, you look like just escaped the jaws of …”
Before he could finish, Carvaserin jerked forward, tearing himself away from all those supporting hands.
And he cried, “The jaws! The jaws!”
Then he gave a shriek of horror and fell to the floor, where he remained quite motionless.
The magicians looked at one another in helpless bewilderment.
* * *
In a far place deep under the very roots of the earth, the servants of the Beast heard their master’s call.
The terrible voice, inaudible to any mortal or spirit world creature, reached the ears of his legions and put them into motion.
Millions of gnashing teeth gnawed through the earth. Millions of claws tore at the barriers that held back the molten rivers of magma.
> The frightened creatures who had dwelled beneath the Earth for eons fled in terror when they saw the Beast’s invaders.
Flaming streams rushed forward, then up, up, bursting through old pathways that led to the surface.
As it hit cooler stones the overheated magma shrieked defiance like a mortally wounded animal in final assault.
* * *
When the Beast unleashed its fury upon the Russian base it was as if thousands of DeathSpirits had been released at once.
They shrieked wild, soul-shattering spells full of malice and hatred.
A dark-crimson fountain rushed into the frightened night sky.
And the earth sighed, as if grieving for all those doomed creatures. Then its surface burst, like spring-ice giving way before the pressure of waiting waters.
Then the black abyss opened its filthy maw and hungry red flames shot out to eat the very clouds that obscured the moon.
Fang howled his dog’s terror, but despite his fear, the faithful animal did not flee his master’s side. The dog’s teeth clutched Gregor’s sleeves, trying to pull him away to safety.
But the young soldier remained frozen in fear and amazement. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t shout, he couldn’t think.
Then he saw a spiderweb of burning cracks race up the walls of a five-story barracks. The walls folded inward liked melted wax, and then the barracks exploded into flame. Never mind that the barracks were made of the best bomb-proof plas-steel and would not burn even during an mage-nuke attack.
It happened anyway— fire racing here and there. Exposed men and women screaming and beating at flames.
All before Gregor’s horrified young eyes.
One explosion followed another. Then the entire plain the base sat upon seemed to be transformed into ground zero of an enormous artillery training range.
To Gregor it was as if heavy shells were exploding one by one, smashing everything above ground. At the same time the shells tore deep craters into the earth, swiftly bursting through the hardened roofs of the underground levels.
He saw the flaming beast swallow whole buildings and installations. Cars, armored pillboxes, tanks, guns and the humans and fiends who manned them— all destroyed.