by David Bishop
Initiating inter-Crest communications... now.
Dante screamed in agony before collapsing to the floor, his hands clamping the headdress in place. Flintlock crouched beside him, while Spatchcock hurried to the door, straining to hear if the sudden scream had attracted attention. Within moments soldiers were shouted for the door to be opened, their fists hammering the thick wood. Spatchcock shoved back against the barricade, trying to keep it in place. "Bloody hell, that's torn it," he cursed. "How's the boss?"
Flintlock leaned closer so he could listen to Dante's chest. He sat back on his haunches, his pale face drained of colour. "Spatch, I think he's copped it."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I can't find a pulse. He isn't breathing and I can't hear a heartbeat either," Flintlock explained. "Dante's dead."
Rai lunged at his sister, but she easily eluded his attack, darting her slender frame sideways out of his reach. As he passed Mai stabbed her bent fingers into his side beneath the armpit, eliciting a grunt. Rai swung round with a straight arm, but she ducked under it, delivering a firm blow to the solar plexus. Mai jabbed upwards with the side of her hand, intending to chop into his throat, but was surprised to be caught in his grasp.
Rai pulled her closer, his breath hot in her face. "You can dance around all day, but sooner or later I'll wear you down. When I do, this is over."
She responded by ramming a knee into his crotch, followed by a straight arm shove in the chest. Her brother staggered backwards, sucking air in urgently. Mai dropped to the floor and swung one leg round in a sweep kick, taking Rai's legs out from under him. He tumbled over, his head cracking against the broad wooden beams. A dull cry shot from his lips, then he did not move.
Mai moved in to finish the job and was felled by a fist punching in the back of her knee. As she sank to the floor, Rai leapt at her, moving with great agility for someone so big. He closed his hands around her throat and pinned her to the floor, straddling her torso with his legs. "I should have stayed to finish the job the first time," he said. "I won't make the same mistake again."
She flailed at him with her arms, fingernails gouging at his face, her legs kicking uselessly at his back. With her last reserves of strength, Mai sent a spasm of movement up her body, propelling Rai over her head. She rolled away to one side, coughing and choking, gasping for breath. Before she had time to recover, Rai was standing over her again. The knife she had embedded in the floor was now held loosely in his left hand.
The Enforcer grabbed Mai by the hair and lifted her up with his right hand, the blade balanced lightly in his left. "Goodbye, sister." He rammed the knife into her stomach, then gave the hilt a vicious twist inside the wound. Rai left go of her hair and Mai fell back to the floor, blood quickly pooling around her, her hands feebly clutching at the blade.
The Imperials burst through the door, kicking aside the blockade to get in. Spatchcock and Flintlock were crouched beside Dante's corpse, the Mukari's headdress still stuck on his head. One of the soldiers hurried away to fetch Ivanov, returning with him less than a minute later.
The general studied Dante's body, his face a mask of hatred. "Shame, I was looking forward to killing him myself. Still, you can't expect to get everything you desire in a single day." Ivanov kicked the corpse, but the body merely shuddered in response. "Have these two carry this piece of offal into the throne room. I want them to witness all the indignities I shall inflict upon their master's corpse before I have them slain."
Ivanov marched from the room, smiling to himself. The Imperials saluted crisply as he passed, then turned back to Spatchcock and Flintlock. "You heard the general," one of the soldiers snarled. "Pick up this carcass and take it into the throne room. Now, maggots!"
SEVENTEEN
"Even a bear cowers when taken by surprise."
- Russian proverb
"The out-of-body experience is a post-death phenomenon that has been talked about, debated and discussed for most of a millennia. While there are still those would have you believe that there is nothing beyond the world you can see, touch, taste, hear or smell, the fact remains that near-death events are both common place and well documented. Are they merely the hallucinations of oxygen-starved brains, or is something more fundamental happening? Does the human spirit leave the body at the moment of death in search of the next life? And, if so, what would happen if this spirit did not return when its body was revived?"
- Extract from The Little Book of Imperial Spirituality, 2669 edition
Dante opened his eyes and knew something was awry. Around him dozens of smiling Himalayans were clapping and cheering, their eyes alight with joy, their faces beaming at each other. I know some of these people, he thought. They were among the bodies we burned on the funeral pyre yesterday. This must be the past I'm seeing, or a vision of something that never happened. It certainly can't be the future.
Dante was standing in a familiar stone courtyard, surrounded by brown-skinned revellers. They were chanting a name, over and over: "Mukari! Mukari!" Suddenly the chant became a cheer of joy, people pointing into the sky. Dante followed their fingers and realised they were gesturing at the balcony outside the throne room. A small girl was emerging from inside, clad in the red and gold of the living goddess, the Mukari's elaborate headdress on her young head. Khumbu was standing to one side of the child, Gylatsen on the other. The old monk motioned for the people for silence.
"The new Mukari has been chosen," he announced. "Bow before her and she shall bless you all!" As one the people dropped to their knees, clasping their hands together in silent prayer, backs bent forward so their noses almost touched the stone cobbles beneath them. Dante watched as the little girl, the same girl he watched being murdered by Ivanov, waved to the crowd.
"Be happy," she said, "and savour your life while you can."
There were a few confused murmurings from the people in the square, but they accepted her cryptic blessing nonetheless. Gylatsen clapped his hands three times. "Now, let the celebrations begin!"
In an instant the people were up and cheering again. But they faded away before Dante's eyes, becoming wraiths in the wind before disappearing altogether. He stared at the Mukari, who was bleeding profusely from her neck wound - the same cut that had killed her. She also faded away, but her headdress remained, falling down from the balcony into Dante's hands. A voice welled up inside his mind.
So began the reign of the last living goddess, the voice told Dante.
"Crest? Is that you?" he asked.
I am a Crest, but not your Crest. I serve as servant of the Mukari, holding in check the power of the gods.
"You're talking about the vortex. But I thought the Romanovs were the first to have Weapons Crests in the empire."
Not all Crests are weapons, Dante. Just as not all warriors are brave.
He looked round the citadel's courtyard. "What will happen to this place?"
That depends upon you. You hold the future in your hands. Without a Mukari to bear the Crest, all shall be lost.
"So where do I find another living goddess?"
By tradition the living goddess was selected from young, untainted girls of a nearby village. They were taken from their families and made to act as the conduit for the power of the Crest. Over time this process became shrouded in myths and legends, much like the citadel itself. The monks believed their goddess lost her purity when she came into womanhood, so they cast the girl aside and choose a new Mukari.
"But Ivanov's men butchered the villagers," Dante said. "The few survivors - I doubt any are untainted, not after what the Imperials did to their families."
The Mukari must be born of the mountain, but that is all. The rest is dogma, imposed by Khumbu and those like him, who sought to control the power of the living goddess. Strange how so many faiths of this world denigrate and oppress women, even when putting them on the pedestal of godhood.
"I need solutions, not a lecture on religious sexual equality," Dante replied.
Spatchcock and Flintlock carried Dante's corpse into the throne room, his body still wearing the Mukari's headdress. They placed him carefully on the floor next to Mai, who lay in a pool of her own blood. Her face was ashen, while her hands clasped the knife buried in her abdomen.
Ivanov dismissed his guards, then glared with satisfaction at his four prisoners.
"So this is the mighty army sent by the Tsar's enemies to storm the citadel? A Romanov reject, two festering sores from the rectum of humanity, and a slant-eyed whore too stupid to know when she is outmatched. Not what I'd call a fighting force to inspire fear!"
Mai spat an obscenity at the general.
Ivanov moved closer, unable to keep his gloating sneer evident from his face. "My dear, you're in no position to call anyone names. I expect you to bleed to death within the hour, barring some kind of miracle. Since your goddess is already dead, I believe this place is fresh out of miracles, don't you?" He shifted his focus to Dante's corpse. "Why on earth is he still wearing that ridiculous headdress? Enforcer, I want that thing removed and destroyed! No trace of the Mukari or her disciples is to be left here. I plan to make the citadel an impregnable fortress for the new Imperial Black regiment I shall build here."
Rai knelt by Dante's head and tore the headdress free. As he did Dante's eyes flicked open. The general stared in disbelief. "But that's impossible! He was dead a minute ago!"
"Appearances can be deceiving," Dante replied with a smile. He braced his arms on the floor, then kicked his legs up and over his head into the Enforcer's face. Rai tumbled over backwards, his head thudding heavily into the wooden doorframe by the balcony. He slumped to the floor and lay still.
"Enforcer, I command you to get up!" Ivanov yelled, but Rai did not move.
"Guess it's just you and me," Dante hissed at the general, who was climbing to his feet. "No regiment to cover your back, no soldiers to hold your victim down while you torture them. How's that, Vassily - exciting enough for you?" He launched himself at Ivanov, not giving his target time to draw a weapon. The two men slammed into the nearest wall, the impact winding the general. Dante punching a fist into Ivanov's groin, then snapped a knee into his chin. "Spatchcock! Flintlock! Barricade the door!"
"Got it!" Spatchcock replied, already dragging the discarded throne towards the entrance. Flintlock hurried to help him. Together they shoved the heavy wooden chair against the door, wedging it beneath the handle. Within seconds fists were hammering from the other side, but the door remained closed.
Ivanov spat a mouthful of teeth and blood onto the floor. "I don't need my men to beat you, Dante. Any soldier in the Tsar's army could outfight street-scum like you, but they would consider it beneath their honour."
"Honour be damned," Dante snarled. "Where was the honour in murdering innocent civilians during the war? Where was the honour when you herded the women into rape camps? Where was the honour when you tortured anyone who dared speak my name after the war? Where was the honour when you slaughtered a village of people yesterday, simply to get directions?" Dante grabbed Ivanov by the throat and lifted him off the floor, slamming the general's head against the nearest wall. "Don't you dare talk to me about honour, you bastard!"
A burst of blue light oscillated around the room, exploding outwards from the ever-exploding vortex. It had expanded to twice its original size and was engulfing the bridge that led into its ravenous core. Spatchcock pointed at the menacing spectacle, the light bursting from its centre casting strange shadows across his features. "Is that thing meant to be getting bigger like that?"
"Not exactly, no," Dante called back over the noise of soldiers trying to break into the throne room. He noticed movement on other side of the chamber. "Mai, your brother is coming round. Can you deal with him?"
"I'll try..." She grimaced and wrenched the knife from her abdomen, screaming in agony as more blood spurted out. Clutching the wound with one hand and the blade in her other, Mai crawled towards the Enforcer. Rai's eyelids were fluttering and blood dripped from his nostrils. One of his hands opened and closed spasmodically, but he showed few other signs of life.
Mai rolled him over on to his back, pressing the knife against Rai's throat. "Don't move," she warned. "Don't even think about moving."
With Dante distracted, Ivanov used the opportunity to let his hand drop to the sidearm holstered at his waist. He tilted it backwards so the barrel was aimed at Dante, then the general slid his fingers inside the trigger. "You know what I liked most about Rudinshtein?" Ivanov whispered.
Dante, be careful, the Crest warned. This sadist didn't becoming a general without learning a few tricks.
"I can handle this sick bastard's taunts," Dante retorted.
"It was the children," Ivanov smiled before pulling the trigger. "The sweet way the children screamed just before they died. It got me so... over-excited." The bullet punched clean through Dante's ribcage, bone, flesh and blood exploded out a fist-sized hole in his back, creating a fine, pink aerosol.
Dante staggered backwards, blood bubbling from his lips. Ivanov fired again, this shot tearing a hunk of flesh from Dante's right shoulder. He toppled to one knee, gasping for air, one hand trying to feebly stop his internal organs leaking out through the hole in his front.
"Dante!" Flintlock shouted, stepping forward to intervene. But he was driven back by the gun in Ivanov's hand, retreating to Spatchcock's side.
"I know a coward when I see one," the general snarled. "You two lack the foolhardy courage of your master. Stay back or share his slow, painful death." Ivanov lashed out with one of his legs, the black boot kicking Dante in the face, knocking him to the floor. "Nikolai, tell your Oriental bitch to unhand my Enforcer."
"Mai does not answer to me," Dante replied through gritted teeth. Mai kept her knife pressed to the Enforcer's throat, holding him down on the floor.
Ivanov stepped on Dante's torso, grinding his heel into the entry wound, winning a scream of pain from the stricken man. "Don't make me repeat myself, boy. Tell her to release my second-in-command or I'll shove this boot through your spine. I doubt even your enhanced healing abilities will recover from that."
"You're welcome to try..." Dante said, his hands coming alive with purple and silver cyborganics, "...but you might find that difficult without any legs!" He ripped a cyborganic sword through the air, slicing clean through both of Ivanov's knees. The general tumbled to the floor, screaming with agony.
Dante rolled over on top of Ivanov, pinning the Imperial Black's leader to the wooden beams. "Now, tell me again how you got off watching children be butchered!"
Ivanov shook his head, refusing to give in. "Damn you to hell, Dante!"
"You first!" Dante stabbed his blade through the general's throat and down into the black floorboards beneath. Dante pulled the sword free and rolled off Ivanov's body. "At least you'll never touch Rudinshtein again, you bastard."
Flintlock and Spatchcock rushed over to him, the shorter man peeling off his jacket and pressing it against Dante's back. "This doesn't look good."
Dante, you've lost a lot of blood, the Crest said. Ivanov may have been right. I don't think your enhanced healing abilities can repair the damage in time.
"What about Mai?" Dante gurgled, blood stains visible on his teeth. "Has she finished off the Enforcer?"
"I can't," she admitted. "I know what he has done, but Ivanov brainwashed him. Rai is still my brother, I can't murder him in cold blood."
Mai's bleeding to death, the Crest said. She's almost as badly injured as you, but she doesn't have a Crest's enhanced healing abilities.
"She bonded with one before, she can do it again," Dante said.
"Wh
at are you talking about?" Flintlock asked, but it was Mai who answered.
"I used to be the Mukari," she said. "I'm too old now."
"You're wrong," Dante whispered. "The Mukari must be a woman born of these mountains, but her age doesn't matter. Khumbu and his brethren made sure only young girls became the Mukari-"
"So they could control them," Mai realised.
Spatchcock was glancing nervously over his shoulder at the vortex. It had now swallowed the bridge and was eating into the floorboards of the throne room. At one edge the glowing globe was consuming the doorway, expanding outwards to attack the soldiers in the corridor. "Whatever you two are planning, you'd better do it quickly. That thing's getting bigger by the second!"
"Put it on," Dante urged Mai, pointing at the discarded headdress. "Once you wear that, you are bonded with the Mukari's Crest."
Mai shook her head. "You don't know what it's like, having the past, present and future all happening simultaneously in your head - coping with knowing all there is to know, being responsible for holding everything together."
"Think what you could achieve with that knowledge," Dante pleaded. "I put on the headdress and it almost killed me, Mai. You're the only one who can do this."
Finally, she nodded. "One of you will have to watch Rai," she said. Flintlock took the pistol from Ivanov's corpse and aimed it at the Enforcer. Mai moved over to the headdress, which was lying dangerously close to the edge of the ever-expanding vortex. Closing her eyes, Mai pulled the headdress into position. Pain stabbed through her features, then she relaxed.
"Is it working?" Spatchcock asked.
Mai nodded. "I can hear the Crest in my head, welcoming me back." She stood, one hand still held over the wound to her abdomen. "The Crest's healing ability, it's repairing my injuries." Mai took her hand away and the gaping hole in her skin sealed itself, leaving just a bloodstained hole in her clothes.