Angel of Doom

by James Axler

  Kane wanted to ask Brigid if a psychopomp could pick up and pattern such things as souls.

  And there was still the fact that Vanth’s song had been in Brigid’s head. Was it just her song or was it the demigod herself? Brigid had made very certain to hypnotize CAT Alpha and CAT Beta. Were their perceptions influenced by whatever remained inside Brigid’s brain?

  Kane had been stuck like this once before, with Neekra having allegedly torn him out of his own mind and stranding him in a comatose state. Time in the illusion passed quickly, so that he perceived the turning of centuries even though he was only out for the space of a day and some change. Maybe Brigid thought that she had been shielding the members of the teams against the psychic interference of Vanth and Charun, but in truth, she’d laid them bare and vulnerable.

  Or almost all of them were rendered helpless.

  Kane’s posthypnotic suggestions were removed, his mind and willpower being too strong for such manipulation, rebelling at the command to forget and dispel his curiosity and thoughts. Had his own subconscious found a way to buck the system, to dispel whatever influence Brigid had placed upon him? After all, the posthypnotic suggestions were conceived as a means of preventing their minds from betraying them by actually acknowledging their suspicions and prejudices.

  The ways of the subconscious mind were such that Kane could have known exactly the kind of danger Brigid had been putting him into with her hypnosis, and then could have made enough of a fuss to get him to negate that conditioning. Of course, this now meant that Kane was alone, the rest of his allies against him.

  Or would that actually be what Vanth and Charun wanted him to believe? The whole situation with these entities and their telepathic powers was one that could leave Kane doubting everything, even if he was seeing something right in front of his eyes. Traveling down one line of possibilities or another was something that could bring Kane to the edge of madness.

  As he was trying to determine which end was up, he and Grant had entered the chamber where Charun said that the best of his “toys” were located. Kane wanted to call it a hangar, but there was no real exit to the outside skies. Here, he saw the Manta that Edwards had lost, as well as the three Olympian Spartan suits in stalls specifically designed for them. There were other stalls along the wall of the same nature, including two with robotic shapes hidden beneath tarps.

  “You have your own Gear Skeletons?” Kane asked.

  Charun nodded. “Yes. We kept them around and actually repainted ours to match those of New Olympus.”

  “To infiltrate?” Grant questioned.

  “To keep our robots from being chopped to pieces. In fact, those were the suits that were transporting Edwards’s Manta to and from the hillside,” Charun said. “This is a courtesy as we did not want to create wear and tear upon the Olympian amputee pilots and their mecha.”

  Kane blinked in surprise. “No wear and tear on the pilots or the robots.”

  “The calculation process is not one that endangers those involved, so long as we have the staff to keep them fed, watered and cleaned,” Charun explained.

  Grant strolled along, looking over the Olympian suits, then lifted the tarp covering the two duplicates that had been utilized. Kane jogged up beside his friend, peeking behind the curtain. Charun strode over and pulled down the tarp.

  “There are similarities in the basic construction, but we had to improvise some panels on ours to match the armored cockpits of your friends,” Charun said. The front hatches to each of these armor units were open, and Kane could see the empty cockpits. He noticed that their torsos were larger.

  “These weren’t built for trans-adapts,” Kane said. “Nor whatever midgets that piloted the original skeletons of the Olympians.”

  “No. These do not have the cybernetic interface nodule that can plug into a spine, either,” Charun told them. “Rather, take a look at the headrest of the chair.”

  Kane squinted and noticed a small crown with stones, possessing the smoothness of river stones and the translucence of gems or quartz crystal. These were a familiar sight, his having noted similar artifacts in the Annunaki skimmers.

  “The gems form a matrix around a sentient mind and respond to its commands,” Charun explained. “Given your experience with our cousins…”

  “The Annunaki. You admit to being related to them?” Kane asked.

  Charun nodded. “Though we are not from the same world as they. In fact, you can say that the Annunaki are our twisted mirror images in this dimension. Thus our distaste.”

  “So you truly are from another universe,” Grant mused. “We’ve experienced other casements, as well. Some of those realities echoed our own…some were vastly different.”

  “We haven’t accessed those in a long time, though we’re aware of other dimensions and pocket universes,” Kane added. “One thing I want to know was that we brought our interphaser but you aren’t interested in using it.”

  “If anything, your technology is not as ours,” Charun told them. “Your device can be used to help open an aperture, but we have the means of opening that dimensional floodgate back to Styx. We just need the code to open it. And the interphaser won’t do that for us. But you should thank Brigid for me. It was thoughtful of you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell her,” Kane returned. “Though, wouldn’t Vanth be the one saying that, as they’re both talking and touring side by side?”

  “The truth be told, I’m not certain if Vanth’s recall extends to matters of conversational courtesy,” Charun said. “As you can tell, most men end up going stupid around her, and that tends to make women hate her. Fortunately you’re among the rare of the apes that does not allow their hormones to distract them from the important things.”

  “Trust me,” Grant interjected. “Kane tends to get plenty of distraction.”

  Kane rolled his eyes, pretending to maintain interest in the tour, the discussions going on between Grant and Charun.

  All the while, he returned to his mind, trying to inventory itself, looking for signs of interference, of sabotage.

  He recalled Brigid Baptiste’s co-option, her hijacking by Ullikummis to become his godly prophet, his right hand as the villainous Brigid Haight. Though she had been under his control, there had still been a Brigid Baptiste inside Haight’s head, locked into a mental version of a safe room to keep her true identity while allowing the son of Enlil to believe he was in command. When the time was right, Brigid restored herself to her original personality, successfully throwing off the fetters of Ullikummis and foiling his plans to wrest the Earth from his father and the humans he battled with.

  Had Brigid given Kane an outside bit of suspicion, the doubt that Brigid was entirely herself when she worked to inure the rest of the Cerberus teams against Vanth’s psychic song?

  A shadow flickered in the corner of Kane’s eye and it took everything in his will not to suddenly react to the new presence. There was a physical manifestation at his shoulder and he caught a glimpse of red-gold curls spilling across his peripheral vision.

  “The word to break the conditioning of the others is anam-chara,” Brigid’s voice whispered in his ear. “I was erroneous in the belief that I’d dispelled the song of domination completely from my consciousness.”

  Kane nodded grimly to himself. Since this manifestation of Brigid was one solely perceptible to his consciousness, he didn’t speak aloud. Was this why I started wondering if those two and their relationship was so close to ours? Because Charun calls Vanth his bride and you and I…?

  “We are different. Something closer than they are, but I needed you to think of that term, I planted the crumb for you to break loose,” Brigid said.

  And just what am I supposed to do now? Kane looked around the arsenal. It was vaguely interesting, but the truth of the matter was, they were in an enemy fortress. This far down into the pyramid, his Commtact wouldn’t pick up a signal. And am I supposed to break you out of your hypnosis?

  “I can handle mys
elf,” the Brigid message told him. “But I told Domi and the others to hole up in a safe room. You should be able to pick them up as they have their Commtacts on passive.”

  Kane looked sideways at Charun and Grant. The two men were still conversing. He was free now, and his doubts were dispelled like smoke. Is Charun in this with Vanth, or is she conning him?

  Brigid stepped in front of him, frowning. “Charun is the brains of this operation.”

  The demigod looked at Kane directly, his eyes aflame from within.

  “Vanth is a willing accomplice, but it’s Charun who is the wielder of the song and who has the telepathic capabilities,” Brigid warned.

  Kane frowned as Charun’s tusks snagged his upper lip in a sneering, smug smile.

  More movement sounded behind him, bare feet slapping the stone floor of the arsenal. Grant turned, dazed and confused at the arrival of the newcomers. Kane realized that trouble had arrived in the form of the Etruscan demigod’s reinforcements. He clicked his Commtact to broadcast, all frequencies, knowing he’d need all the help he could get. Things were going to turn violent at any moment.

  “Anam-chara,” Kane uttered, but not before Charun snatched the jaw plate off his partner Grant.

  “Oh, no… Kane has fallen under the control of Vanth, Grant,” Charun stated, his voice stentorian, to the point where the Cerberus adventurer could feel the impact of each syllable. “You have to subdue him before he turns against us, Grant.”

  The big former Magistrate’s eyes grew milky, watching as Charun staggered backward.

  “Kane?” Grant asked. “Kane! Snap out of it! Don’t shoot him! Kane!”

  Suddenly, in the middle of the arsenal of Charun, Kane was confronted by the one weapon he could not destroy. His friend, his brother by blood, sweat and tears. And Grant lunged forward, the glaze of his eyes telling Kane that Grant felt he was completely out of control.

  He wanted to speak another word, but a sudden grasp seized his throat. And Charun, sitting against the wall, grinned, his eyes twinkling as he denied Kane the means of breaking this spell.

  Grant’s fist hammered deep into Kane’s stomach, and despite the non-Newtonian polymers stiffening to lessen the blow, all the breath was expelled from Kane’s lungs.

  Chapter 20

  Domi and the others heard the voice of Kane over their Commtacts, meaning that he must have been close; otherwise the walls of intervening stone would have made reception impossible. His words were familiar, the affectionate term that he and Brigid Baptiste held for each other.

  Anam-chara. It was a term from Celtic spiritual tradition, and was a belief that the human soul radiated all around the physical form in an aura. When two people came near each other, there were instances where that aura opened and channels of trust and understanding immediately opened between the two individuals. When that occurred, the Celtic tradition stated that one had found their soul friend, or in the ancient tongue of the Celts, the anam-chara. Though Domi doubted that kind of deep, almost symbiotic bond from the beginning, there was no doubt that each completed the other.

  She’d also noticed part of that between Kane and Grant, as well, which was probably what Lakesh saw when he mentioned the confluence of personalities that always lead CAT Alpha to victory against imposing odds. However, between Kane and Brigid, this was what seemed strongest.

  Domi, however, realized that she was inside a pyramid that Charun and Vanth allowed CAT Beta to infiltrate. The two demigods had drawn from Brigid the plans of both teams to deal with the Etruscan entities. However, Charun and Vanth had not counted on the mental resilience of the flame-haired archivist. She’d hypnotized the group to the holes that they had funneled the Cerberus Away Teams toward, but there were other measures that Brigid had implanted in them. Rather than continuing to wander around the pyramid, allowing the minions of the demigods to entrap them, Brigid had arranged for them to seek out a truly defensible position.

  This storage room was such a place. The door was sturdy enough to withstand attack, yet too small to allow one of the robotic warriors to reach very far into. The walls were simply too thick for even a skeleton of secondary orichalcum to sunder, and the chamber was deep enough to be out of range of a grasping claw. There were thick, durable crates that the four people had assembled into a barricade instinctively.

  Fists pounded at the door and the CAT Beta members moved behind their assembled cover. Shelving units were stocked with weapons and ammunition, as well, providing Domi and her allies with the means to hold out against a prolonged siege.

  Of course, all of those factors protecting the CAT meant that they couldn’t rush to Kane’s aid. Over their Commtacts, the four allies heard their friend grunting as he engaged in a melee.

  The door shook as fists struck it.

  “You are trapped, humans! Surrender!” came the shout from the other side. Domi recognized the alien resonance, as if the voice were echoing in upon itself, vibrating along different wavelengths. This was akin to the tones of the Annunaki, although these creatures hardly had the depth and power of the overlords. These must have been subordinates, mere minions, though their challenge was one of malice, so these weren’t emotionless drones or thralls. “Throw out your weapons!”

  “All right,” Domi conceded, shouting loud. “Give ’em weapons.”

  Edwards smirked, his Sin Eater snapping into the palm of his hand. “Bullets first?”

  “Duh,” Domi responded.

  Edwards winked at Smaragda. “That means we blow the crap out of these alien scum.”

  Smaragda chuckled. “I was hoping you meant that.”

  CAT Beta aimed their weapons at the door but only Domi and Edwards fired, the feral girl’s .45 and the Magistrate’s pistol having the punch to cut through the door between them and their opponent. The two gunshots were loud in the small room, even with their hoods on to filter their hearing, but the audio pickups rewarded the two shooters with the sound of strangled pain and a body dropping to the floor.

  While it might have seemed more impressive for all four of them to cut loose, hosing streams of bullets through the door, they wanted to maintain their coverage as much as possible. Such a vulgar display of firepower would have been a waste of ammunition and weakened their first line of defense. Rather, the marksmanship of Domi and Edwards had eliminated one of their opponents without compromising the door.

  That did not prevent their foes from opening fire, and from the racket, Domi could tell that the Stygians were using the captured rifles of the Olympians. The door’s thickness absorbed most of the volley of return fire, only a few projectiles here and there managing to punch all the way through, their energy spent and turning them from lethal bullet into impotent rain clattering on the stone floor. Already, Domi was glad at their defensive position being an advantage that grew. As long as the humanoid minions of Vanth and Charun wasted their ammunition, they would be less likely and capable of bringing the fight to CAT Beta, while the cooler, calmer heads of the four defenders waited for an opportunity to fight back effectively.

  “Brains and brawn,” Domi growled as she let the Stygians spend their energy and time in their futile initial assault.

  * * *

  BRIGID BAPTISTE HEARD Kane speak the words of her posthypnotic suggestion, the key word that would break the conditioning that she’d unfortunately inflicted upon the others. She took a step away from Vanth as they entered one of the libraries she’d been boasting about.

  The half-naked goddess casually followed Brigid’s defensive movement, her efforts to create distance between them, and her lush, beautiful lips turned up into a smile.

  “So, you’ve finally dropped your pretenses?” Vanth inquired.

  Brigid narrowed her eyes. “You are the one who has been lying and subverting minds, my own included.”

  “Subverting my mind,” Vanth mimicked, except as she spoke she turned Brigid’s tone higher, whinier, showing disdain for the human woman. “Your minds? You were built from the g
round up to be slaves, servants to alien gods.”

  “And yet we’ve sent them scattered to the four corners of the Earth, stripped of their power and superiority,” Brigid challenged. She pulled the TP-9 from its holster, leveling it at Vanth. “I will not fire upon an unarmed, helpless opponent, but if you prove that you’re not harmless…”

  “You seek to instill fear into me?” Vanth asked. “As a child, I hunted the mightiest of beasts, naked, unarmed. The creature’s tusk marks still line my belly, but I broke its neck.”

  Brigid glanced down to the stomach of the seven-foot woman, seeing the faint lines of a long-healed cut. She focused on the sights once more, matching Vanth’s glare. “So, you believe you can take a spray of bullets without harm?”

  “I am she who mothered the legends of Artemis and Atlanta,” Vanth growled. “These limbs have shattered tree trunks as if they were twigs. Without a weapon, I am mighty. With them, I am invincible!”

  Brigid circled back toward the doorway, relying on her impeccable photographic memory to navigate without looking where she stepped.

  Vanth’s lip curled in dismissal. “You threaten me with a rain of lead and fire, and yet you cannot pull the trigger?”

  “And you just see me holding my firearm with one hand, not wondering what the other is doing,” Brigid returned.

  Vanth’s eyes glanced to Brigid’s other hand, which was empty. She looked back along the Cerberus archivist’s path and saw a small disk lying on the ground.

  A moment later a brilliant flare of light blazed in the room. Brigid Baptiste didn’t delude herself that she’d carry enough firepower to wound a god, but if Vanth’s vision and other senses were of the same superhuman nature as her physique, then the brilliance of one million candle-power blazing into her eyes would buy her moments, if not minutes.

  Vanth screamed, agonized by the flash, and Brigid whirled, ducking into the hall. Though her own vision had blurred, Brigid relied on that photographic memory to map out her course of escape and evasion. Behind her, Vanth roared in fury, furniture shattering under hammer blows from those “bare hands” the demigoddess boasted of.