Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God

by Brian McGoldrick

  The corners of Tanaka's mouth turn up just slightly. This is the closest I have ever seen him come to an actual smile. “Thank you. Come. Old Master is in his study.”

  Tanaka calling Urehara-sensei Old Master is almost funny. Urehara-sensei is only in his late fifties or early sixties, I am not sure of his birth date, but Tanaka is in his seventies or older. Urehara-sensei once made a comment that Tanaka had been with since before he graduated university, and was the only man he would fear fighting.

  The main house is just what could be expected from a multi-billionaire family, that is more attached to the lavishness of the past than the technology of the present. Everything is of the highest quality, whether the construction or the furnishings. The floors are real hardwood, or polished granite or marble. The rugs are real Persian rugs, some probably more than a century old. High quality wallpaper covers the plaster walls. The crown moulding is a real three piece wood moulding, instead of a prefabricated urethane mold. All of the furniture is made from real wood, without a single piece of pressboard or laminate in evidence.

  The door to Urehara-sensei's study is a double-door of redish-brown stained oak, and the solid thumping of Tanaka's knuckles on the wood gives testament to it's thickness.

  “Enter.”

  Tanaka opens the door, after hearing Urehara-sensei's voice. He stands to the side so that I can enter past him.

  Urehara-sensei is seated behind his heavy wood desk, with Nobuhiko seated in one of the leather armchairs facing the desk. Nobuhiko looks over his shoulder at me. Despite his self-control, his facial expression twists just enough to show his dislike of me. From the very first time I met him, Nobuhiko already detested me. Mei told him she hated me and who knows what else. So before he even met me, Nobuhiko, the overprotective brother, hated me. More than his sister, he disdains anyone who is not rich or of noble bloodlines.

  “Mark, please sit. Tanaka, you join us, as well.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  As I take the second armchair in front of the desk, Tanaka moves to stand to the left of and slightly behind Urehara-sensei's chair.

  Nobuhiko's gaze returns to his father. “I still do not like or trust this person, father. How you can believe his ridiculous story is beyond me. Your responsibility is here, to your family.”

  Urehara-sensei looks tired. “We have already had this discussion too many times. I will go to the Battleground of the Damned. I will find your sister. Her real body is dead, and she is trapped in anther. I will not leave her all alone in another world without any family.

  “You are the new head of the Urehara Group. Once I am gone, America or Japan will certainly use this incident as an excuse to move against you. All of the keys will work for you. Protect the rest of our family. Do not kowtow to any government. The Prophet and the Delphi systems belong to the Urehara family alone, and no government has a right to our technology.”

  “Yes, father.”

  “Now, go look after your wife and children. I have said my goodbyes and it would be best not to have a scene before the staff.”

  “Yes, father.”

  Nobuhiko bows his head, before leaving. He has never had the strength to stand against his father.

  After the door closes, Urehara-sensei turns to Tanaka. “Old friend. Please, protect my family. He is not as strong man a man as he should be. It is my fault, but for a long time now, it has been too late to do anything about it.”

  Tanaka bows to Urehara-sensei. “Master, I will do what I can. If necessary, I will lay down my life for the Urehara family. He is not like you or your father, and he does not understand the true nature of the world.”

  Urehara-sensei turns back to me. “I would apologize for Nobuhiko's words, but I know he has said worse to you in the past.”

  “Sensei, I don't pay attention to people with attitudes like that. I would have committed suicide long ago, like some kind of loser, if I did. But are you sure that you shouldn't stay here with your family? I can go back by myself.”

  Urehara-sensei frowns slightly. “Mei hates you more than Nobuhiko does. I cannot expect you to spend your life protecting her, and I cannot leave her alone in Taereun. Also, like you, I do not belong on Earth. This world has become a giant prison, with electronic walls. Going with you is as much for myself as anything.”

  I let the matter drop, and we talk about potential ways to develop out ki, while waiting for the delivery truck to arrive. After twenty minutes or so, a buzz sounds from the terminal on Urehara-sensei's desk.

  “Yes?”

  “The food delivery is here and the owner Mr. Conrad is driving. He has asked to speak with you.”

  “I will be there in a few minutes.”

  Urehara-sensei cuts the connection and stands up. “It is time.”

  I was on my feet, before Urehara-sensei finished the short conversation. Moving to the study doors, I open them and stand aside for Urehara-sensei to pass. Tanaka walks next to me, as we follow Urehara-sensei to the kitchen.

  The kitchen is large enough to serve a medium sized restaurant, and there is a small loading dock at the back next to the freezers and storeroom. A man about the same age as Urehara-sensei is standing in the open door of the loading dock.

  “Mr. Conrad. Thank you for helping me with this.” Urehara-sensei shakes his hand.

  “Mr. Urehara, it's my pleasure. Your family has been one of my steadiest customers for more than twenty years. I don't really understand what the secrecy is all about, and I'm not sure I want to know either. These are the crates you need to take with you?” Mr. Conrad points at the shipping crates for our weapons and gear.

  “Yes. Mark, could you please load them for us.”

  I nod and move the crates into the back of the delivery truck. Mr. Conrad's eyes widen as I easily pick up the biggest crate, which weighs more than two hundred pounds. He does not comment, as I finish loading them and stay in the back of the truck.

  Urehara-sensei bows to Tanaka. “Thank you for everything, my oldest friend.”

  There is a sheen in Tanaka's eyes as he returns the bow. “Master, be well.”

  Urehara-sensei turns and enters the truck, with a hint of moisture at the corners of his eyes, as well. As he sits on the crate, Mr. Conrad closes the truck's back door. Neither of us says a word, as Mr. Conrad enters the truck and engages the GPS auto-drive system.

  The ride only lasts for thirty or thirty-five minutes, and we pull up next to a covered doorway in an apparently unused building. Mr. Conrad opens the trucks back doors. While Urehara-sensei goes to unlock the building door, I lift the crates out of the delivery truck and close the doors, when I am done.

  Urehara-sensei moves to the front of the delivery truck, talking with Mr. Conrad.

  I shift the crates inside the building, where I find a van backed in, facing a roll-up door. Opening the van's back doors, I load our crates in it and wait for Urehara-sensei. After a few minutes, he enters and locks the door behind himself.

  “Is everything loaded.”

  I nod.

  Even though the manual controls on vehicles are just for emergencies, Urehara-sensei gets into the driver's seat,, and I get into the passenger's seat. The roll-up door opens at the touch of a button on a remote clipped to the sun-visor, and the electric van rolls out of the building with a soft hum.

  “This building was leased through a shell corporation with no connections to me or my family, and this van is owned by the same corporation. My family should be as well insulated from our actions, as is possible. We cannot be tracked by the Delphi system. I transmitted the codes to erase both of our existences from the system yesterday. The only way we will be intercepted before reaching the weapons testing grounds is if a person who knows to look for us were to spot us on a monitor screen.”

  Urehara-sensei is not saying anything that we have not already discussed. He seems to be talking to cover his nervousness. Taking personal action that goes against a giant like the US government is something that will make even s
omeone as formidable as him nervous.

  It makes me realize how much I changed in the Lands of Despair. The thought of going against an Earth government is nothing compared with taking on a DokkAlfar kingdom, or facing off against beings that are practically demigods. Everything is subjective, and my perspectives have changed from a normal persons.

  The drive to the LAX airport will take more than three hours. I settle down into my seat and begin force the ki to flow more strongly through my body. I am still not strong enough, and every little bit will help.

  * * * * *

  Urehara-sensei enters the office of the cargo charter agency, while I remain in the van. After a few minutes, I have the feeling of being watched, but I cannot see anyone that seems to be paying particular attention to the van.

  Exiting the van, I pretend to stretch, while taking a better look at my surroundings. There are a fair number of people in the area, but none of them are loitering. The only interest they have is to gawk are my face, before quickly turning away if I look in their directions. None of them have a focused interest in me or the van.

  This area consists of hangars and industrial buildings for businesses that support the aviation maintenance and repair industry. Everything close is made from corrugated metal, just like the charter service we are parked in front of. All of the windows in the area belong to surrounding businesses. I can see to some degree into the rooms behind all of the windows with a line of sight on the van, but I do not see anyone paying any particular attention to it. None of roofs off any place for someone to watch from, either. The parking lots of the surrounding businesses are filled with a mix of vehicles, but even the vans and min-vans have windows that I can see through. There is no place outdoors that someone could watch me from without being seen. What is making me so edgy?

  I have been out of the van for about fifteen minutes, when Urehara-sensei comes out of the charter services office again. He looks around carefully, before walking over to me.

  “What is the problem?”

  “I'm not sure. Something had me on edge. I feel like I'm being watched, but I cannot see anyone, who could be the culprit.”

  Urehara-sensei looks around again, more carefully this time. “I do not see anything either, but I have an uneasy feeling, as well. Get in the van. We can talk, while we drive.”

  After both of us are seated in the van, Urehara-sensei punches in a destination, and the van smoothly pulls out of the parking lot.

  “After we recharge the batteries, we can get something to eat. The service filed a flight plan, with a 12:25pm takeoff. We should be on the ground in North Dakota by 6:00pm.”

  “Could the FBI be tracking us?”

  Urehara-sensei does not answer immediately. He leans back in his seat and frowns, while tapping on his chin with his index finger.

  “There are several ways they could have tracked up to the drop point, but that would assume they knew to follow the delivery truck. After we changed to this van, they would only be able to observe us with direct visual observation. There is no way for any net connected surveillance to track us or this vehicle.”

  I look all around us. No one in the other vehicles on the road gives me the impression of being interested in our van, and none of the vehicles are being manually driven. While there are vehicles that stay with us for a time, they all eventually turn off or do not follow us through a turn. Still, I cannot shake the feeling that I am being watched.

  * * * * *

  Returning to the charter service at 11:30am, we are directed to the back of their offices, where there is a taxiway for LAX. A single plane is waiting there, with its rear access ramp down.

  I know almost nothing about aircraft, but this one looks like the type of plane that you would see in an old war movie. It has the resemblance to a pregnant whale the the military transport planes all seem to have. The cargo bay is large enough to fit three of our van with room to spare. Following the directions of the man in cargo bay, Urehara-sensei manually drives the van up the loading ramp.

  We get out of the van, while the airplane's crew strap and chain it to the deck. The man who directed Urehara-sensei up the ramp looks at me for a few moments, before shaking his head and continuing his work.

  Another man exits a door in the upper part of the front bulkhead of the cargo bay and climbs down the short ladder next to it. He is dressed in a flight suit, with a light vinyl jacket. Approaching Urehara-sensei, the man offers his hand.

  “Mr Fujiwara, I'm Capt. Roberts. I apologize for the late take off time. Your change to the charter request caught us off-guard yesterday, and it takes us a while to prep the plane. As soon as your van and its cargo are secured, we'll be leaving, and get into the takeoff queue.”

  “That is nothing to be concerned about, Capt. Roberts. Our circumstances suddenly changed, so we are thankful that you could accommodate us.”

  Capt. Roberts points to eight fold-down seats on each wall of the cargo bay near the front bulkhead. “All of our normal seats are for the crew. This plane isn't designed for passengers. So, you'll have to use those jump seats. Make sure you strap in securely, so you don't get hurt during takeoff.”

  After Capt. Roberts returns to the cockpit, Urehara-sensei stands near the flight crew. While Urehara-sensei watches the flight crew work, I pull down a jump seat and sit down. Pulling my legs up into the lotus position, I return to my training, though I only barely enter a trance state.

  After securing our shipping crates, the crew member who guided us onto the plane picks up a microphone on the bulkhead.

  “Cockpit, we have the cargo secure. Good to go at anytime.”

  “Roger, cargo bay. Make sure everyone is seated, we're stating the engines now.”

  The two members sit down and loosely secure their restraining belts. Both take out tablets and being fiddling with them, but they keep sneaking peaks at me, probably, thinking that I cannot see them.

  After being sure our van and cargo are secured in a manner satisfactory to himself, Urehara-sensei sits is in a jump seat near my own. He observes the flight crew for a moment, before leaning back against the bulkhead and closing his eyes.

  The planes engines start, and a few minutes later, we being jerkily taxing. It still takes more than an hour for us to get airborne, but it is no surprise. LAX is supposed to always be running behind schedule.

  I settle into a deeper trance, only keeping enough awareness to be able to react to anyone coming too close. The plane's crew members come to talk to Urehara-sensei a few times, but I never sense any hostility, so remain in my trance.

  *** North Dakota - Earth ***

  December 26, 2077

  By the time we land in North Dakota, the sun is already down. The airport is small, barely large enough for our transport plane to land, and the runways and taxiways have minimal lighting. After the plane stops near a gate in the chain link fence surrounding the airport, the flight crew lowers the ramp and begins to unsecure our van.

  While Urehara-sensei talks with Capt. Roberts, I load our crates back into the van. The crew members working on the van stare with their mouths agape as I easily lift the heaviest crate, that required both of them to unload and secure. They are both more heavily built than I am, though one is a couple inches shorter, and obviously thought themselves much stronger. When I turn my gaze on them, they look away, with complicated expressions that I cannot decipher.

  After Urehara-sensei finishes with Capt. Roberts, we both enter the van and he drives it off the plane.

  “We should eat now. It will kill some time, and I prefer to make night raids near the middle of the night. Diurnal races are much less aware and slower to respond at the deepest parts of their natural sleep cycle.”

  Urehara-sensei stares at me, a bit of surprise is evident in his expression. “Your youth keeps causing me to overlook your decade of life and death battles. In reality, you have far more experience than I do in this type of endeavor. Since this is our last night on Earth, we should find a good
steak restaurant and enjoy our meal.”

  *** North Dakota - Earth ***

  December 27, 2077

  After stopping once more to recharge the crystal lattice battery packs, we have finally reached our destination, a gully in the middle of nowhere. Around three hundred yards away is a more or less rust-free chain link fence. The van had been under manual control for the last half-hour of the trip, but it was an indication of how skilled Urehara-sensei is at driving.

  Moving into the back of the van, I open up the crates and change into my new equipment. The suede gambeson has extra layers at the shoulders, where the weight of the chainmail hauberk will ride the heaviest and at the knees as well. The hauberk is around seventy pounds, nearly four times what it would be were it made of pure steel. The greaves, cuisses, and poleyns are forged from ¼ ” thick metal and add another fifty pounds or so. A harness with sheathes for multiple knives buckles over my chest, and I attach the sheathes for my paired longswords to rings at my hips. My cloak is thick, black oiled leather, and my backpack is made from the same. There are enough freeze-dried meals for a week stuffed in the backpack along with an assortment of small tools, and a bedroll is strapped to the bottom.

  After getting out of the van, I shrug and twist to settle the armor and let the other gear hang more comfortably. The dimensional bags, that I used as Talon, are so much more efficient than bulky normal packs. At the first opportunity, we will have to acquire some for ourselves.

  “Are you ready, Sensei?”

  Urehara-sensei is dressed in his samurai style armor. If not for the backpack and other gear, he would look the part of an ancient samurai. Though, the gleam in his eyes is more like a teenager about to embark on an adventure. He may be looking forward to entering the Labyrinth of Yggr more than I am.

  “Let us move out.”

  I lead the way at a steady jog. We are in the middle of what used to the Little Missouri National Grassland, but at some point in the past twenty years, this nameless weapons testing range was built, and the land reclassified as restricted. Even Urehara-sensei's resources were unable to pin down the exact date when the change occurred, so this has be part of some ultra-high security government project.