“—his nails!” Cornet exclaimed, having deduced the rest in a split second.
His friend’s head had been sent flying in an instant. But what of the murder weapon? There was no one in the air, to his left or his right, in front of him or behind. And at his feet? Long streaks of black crept across the floor.
“Those nails!”
They rose to the level of Cornet’s eyes. The nails looked like five flat black fingers. And the lingering resentment of the deceased had transformed them into demons that sought only slaughter. They made a diagonal slash toward Cornet’s neck.
III
Cornet closed his eyes. He felt the wind whipped up by the nails brush against his neck. And just before it, he got the feeling he’d heard a strident sound. No matter how much time passed, his head remained just where it was. It took no small amount of courage for him to open his eyes.
The black nails had stopped at the base of his throat. Their progress and the owner’s murderous intent had been foiled by the stark blade they were locked against.
Cornet let his gaze slowly glide down the blade to the hilt, then to a black glove and powerful arm, followed by a body shrouded in black clothes, until they were finally drawn to the face that capped it all. A face of incredible beauty. Cornet sensed the power running down that black sleeve. An instant later the claws were cut like paper where they’d locked with the sword, falling to the floor.
Cornet was so disappointed by the end of that fearful assassin that a powerful languor suddenly swept over him. This on account of how his expectations of impending death had fallen away. Shaking his head to drive the listlessness off, he looked up once more at the savior who loomed before him.
“D—what brings you here?”
There was no reply. D was gazing in the direction of the collapsed wall. Cornet was convinced that to come through that opening would mean death. The only things that merited reflection in the gorgeous young man’s eyes were death and destruction—and those alone.
Something flew at him. D didn’t try to dodge it. His blade flashed out, deflecting the thing.
A hole opened in the ceiling, and stone and earth poured down through it.
“He’s finished.” That’s all that was said to close the attack. For Mask was out of screws.
D turned and looked at the source of the voice. Ringard grinned wryly at him from his place in the surgical machine.
“Heya. So, yesterday’s foe is today’s friend. Do me a favor and don’t kill me.”
The cover of the device soon opened. The patient slowly clambered off the operating table. Resting a hand on his chest, Ringard said, “I’m cured. You do good work, my young hooded friend!”
“Well, of course I do. I made that machine, you know,” Cornet replied in a somewhat absent-minded tone before once again asking D, “What brings you here?”
“A dream.”
More than the Hunter’s icy tone, it was his beauty that caused the hooded man to tremble as he asked, “Did this dream happen to concern a woman?”
“Françoise. She was working in the grand duke’s castle.”
Cornet said nothing at that.
“Seems she got turned into a dream,” the Hunter continued.
“That’s right. And it was a human servant named Vyken that did it.”
“An acquaintance of yours?” D asked.
“Yes, since I used to be up in the castle, too. They appreciated my skill at crafting devices.”
“Françoise told me. She said your real name’s Jozen.”
“Yeah, I’m her brother.”
“What are you doing here?”
The sudden change from a voice of iron to a hoarse one knocked the wind out of Cornet.
“Don’t let it shake you,” the hoarse voice continued, “Just got something wrong with my vocal cords. And with my character, come to thi—iugh!”
“My work is finished. Do as you like now.”
In a manner of speaking, the Hunter’s words were heartless. He’d fulfilled the request to slay the grand duke. What trick of the heart had inclined him to actually act on the request to save Cornet’s life he’d received in a dream?
Instead of Cornet, who stood there frozen in his tracks looking like he didn’t have a friend in the world, it was Ringard who spoke, saying, “So, you destroyed the grand duke, did you? Quite an accomplishment. But before you did, it seems he put the bite on my employer and colleagues!”
D had been about to walk out, but he stopped. He alone knew the biting hadn’t been before.
“Seems I screwed up,” he said. “Where’s the Professor?”
“The Professor’s with Lascaux—that fatty whose belly you sliced open. I locked ’em both away in a black hole. I swear, they won’t be back as long as they live. The other two—”
“I took care of them,” Cornet interjected. It sounded a little like a boast.
“How’d you take care of them?” D asked.
“Well, I pincushioned them with iron stakes. That did it for certain.”
“And yet those nails and screws still came after you,” D noted. “Even after they’d been destroyed. Is that right?”
“You underestimated him, you idiot!”
Cornet and Ringard got goosebumps. Who in the hell would dare reprimand that gorgeous youth? Take it in stride, D!
Perhaps seeing that it was safe, the hoarse voice continued diffidently, “Think about it. Your—er, I mean, the Sacred Ancestor let this guy meet him face to face, and chose him as director of the Ministry of Technology. Yeah, this really wasn’t gonna be a cut-and-dried deal. And the freaking grand duke didn’t put the regular bite on ’em. Not with the kind of power he had! It might be he fed on the Professor.” Pausing for a breath, the voice continued, “When a victim’s bitten, the perpetrator’s nature infects them. Did that make the freaking Professor more than the average Noble?”
D stared at the iron rings that encircled Ringard’s body.
“Check to make sure the Professor’s still trapped.”
“Who do you think you are, giving me orders?” Ringard replied, making no attempt to hide his animosity. Still, he touched his hand to the ring that’d begun rotating around him.
“What did I tell you? He’s still in there!” he said with a smile.
“Get him out,” D told him.
“What?!”
Not only did Ringard bug his eyes at that, but Cornet did as well.
“Wh-where should he put him?” asked the latter.
“Right here. I have to slay everyone who continues the grand duke’s line as soon as possible.”
“B-but why go to all that trouble when I’ve already got him locked away?” the warrior protested. “Have a little faith in these rings of mine, will you?”
“My work’s not finished. You’ve got to get him out.”
“What the hell?!” Ringard exclaimed, his color draining. He’d just noticed D’s frame of mind. However, the fight soon boiled up in him as well, and he countered, “Oh, this should be good—you want a piece of me?” Apparently the turning of the iron rings brought back his immense self-confidence.
“Hold it! Just hold everything!” Cornet interjected. “Let’s not have a falling-out now. Look, friend, I’m sorry, but I agree it would be best to confirm that the Professor and anyone else are finished. If you won’t do it, I’ll open the black hole.”
“What’s that?” Ringard said, tinged from head to toe by flames of enmity. Cornet’s threat had only thrown gasoline on the fire.
Just then, there was another bit of input that even D hadn’t foreseen.
“Ringard . . . Please . . . leave it . . . to D.”
The eyes of all of the focused on the east wall. There was nothing there. And no one. Except for one thing—on the floor. The severed head of Habaki. Now as white as a sheet, even its lips devoid of color, the head of the young man opened its eyes weakly and stared at the trio.
“The Professor . . . probably changed . . . into the
grand duke . . . Instead of letting him . . . live forever . . . better to end him . . . quick . . . Nobles gotta be . . . turned to dust . . . Nobles . . . Finally . . . our village . . . will be . . . at peace . . . Ringard . . . you’ve gotta know that . . . right?”
Ringard didn’t know what to say.
“No need . . . to be afraid . . . at night . . . No need . . . to worry ourselves . . . about the safety of our families . . . C’mon, Ringard . . . They wanted human sacrifices . . . from our village . . . and now we won’t have to do that . . . How great is that? . . . You’ve gotta have . . . some idea.”
Suddenly losing all expression, Habaki’s head fell silent.
Going over, D checked his pupils and said, “He was already dead.”
Habaki’s head had long since breathed its last.
“What’ll it be?” the hoarse voice asked, its question directed at Ringard, of course.
The man was still glaring at D. However, he’d lost the burning enmity that’d surrounded him. Looking down, he said, “What the hell, seeing it was his dying wish and all.”
“Okay, allow me,” said Cornet.
“Like hell you will, kid. I’ll do it.” Turning to the right, Ringard made a toss of his chin to a spot a short distance away saying, “I’ll pull him out right there,” and touching the left iron ring with his right hand.
A binary state. All or nothing. Black or white. This was another of those situations. All three of them realized the other possibility. But none of them expected that outcome.
Ringard’s expression changed. Making no effort to hide what an incredible loss he was at, he said, “Lascaux’s in there all squashed up, but the damned Professor’s vanished.”
“You all underestimated him, didn’t you?” the hoarse voice laughed before there was another choked scream and it fell silent.
“I don’t care if he’s the Professor or the grand duke, as long as he walks the earth again, the deal for the Nobility’s technology is still in effect,” the hoarse voice continued.
“And that includes the human sacrifices.”
The other two stiffened at D’s words.
“No reason for you to get so serious,” the hoarse voice said in a condescending tone. The remark was directed at Ringard.
“Yeah, I suppose not. But I only hired on as one of the Professor’s bodyguards. Can’t say I had much interest in what he was doing, or that it had any bearing on me. Plus, I happen to be from a village near here. Hell, I came here a bunch of times back when I was a squirt. To be honest, the whole bit about human sacrifices didn’t sit quite right with me.”
“So, now that the tables have turned you’re gonna paint yourself as one of the good guys?” the hoarse voice teased. “In that case, you must be ready to do something to help the village out now, right? Head on up to the castle and give us a hand destroying the Professor.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll do just that. No way I’m gonna let that bastard get his hands on Noble tech. No telling what he’d do with it, am I right? Hell, you guys gotta know what I’m talking about. What do you think’ll happen if a human learns how to use the Nobles’ toys?”
“They’d become ruler of the human world inside three days’ time, including the initial period of threats, I suppose.”
“And I don’t think he’ll be heading back to the Capital,” Ringard mused. “A Noble’s castle could get a message out to anywhere on Earth. So, D, what did you have planned?”
“There’s only one thing to do.” Turning to Cornet, D said, “The Professor doesn’t have any henchmen left, but the androids and mechanical people up in the castle will do his bidding. Hurry up and get out of here.”
Rubbing his hand against his pants, the young man wiped the sweat from his palms. “Okay. I’m not ready to die just yet,” he said with a nod. “I’ll take off as soon as I finish my preparations. You two go on without me. I’d like to do a little more for Habaki. Don’t worry. Françoise will help me.”
“Happy-go-lucky bastard, ain’t you?” Ringard said, shaking the young man’s hand and clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m still alive on account of you, no word of a lie. You have my thanks. Now, hurry up and get outta here.”
“Will do. The exit’s that door right there.”
Walking over to it, D turned and looked back.
“Good-bye.”
Cornet raised his right hand.
Sticking his right hand into his coat, D then swung it in the young man’s direction.
When Cornet saw the item that fell at his feet, his eyes went wide. It was a dagger in a steel sheath—though being more than a foot long, it was more like a short sword.
“Do what you like with it,” said the hoarse voice. “You could get a hundred thousand dalas for it, easy. That’d cover your traveling expenses, but if you decide to use it for its intended purpose, it’s got his spirit and mine in it.”
“A million thanks, friend,” Cornet said, picking up the dagger and turning toward the door again, but by that time the other two were nowhere to be seen.
Dark Battle in the Light of the Sun
Chapter 9
I
Somewhere in the castle, a motor whined on and on. It was a coarse sound that a Noble could easily eliminate. But they did not eliminate it precisely because they were Nobles. Their civilization flowed along on a river of retro taste. The Nobility loved machinery like steam-driven cranes with gigantic oily cogs, or having bunches of double and triple chains hanging down from the ceilings as far as the eye could see. It was beyond human comprehension how people who found it simple to make nuclear reactors small enough to rest on the tip of your little finger or elementary particle accelerators could eschew that energy for rough modes of transport that completely ignored aerodynamics, or devices covered with iron rivets.
The sound was another example of that. It had been going on for a long time, since the middle of the night—roughly ever since Ringard had murmured, “The damned Professor’s vanished,” in Cornet’s research center. The goal was a certain scientific phenomenon. And there was a case where the same phenomenon had been possible through a different approach. This device was trying to accomplish it in a roundabout fashion through scientific means. Toward that end, an enormous amount of energy had been expended for more than an hour. To put it in concrete terms, it was enough energy to destroy the entire Milky Way galaxy a hundred times over. Preparations had been completed a half hour ago, and the sound of the motor was proof that all that power was now being used to maintain the current state.
D entered the castle grounds. And Ringard followed after him. They hadn’t been colleagues to start with, so any teamwork was unlikely.
“Hey!” Ringard called out to the Hunter. “What’s the deal with this castle? They dance right on into morning or something?”
Lights burned in the castle windows, and the soft, elegant tune that flowed from them so clearly was undoubtedly a waltz. Coming to the moat and seeing that the drawbridge was already down, Ringard’s amazement was at high tide, but the instant they entered the castle courtyard, he was rendered speechless.
Garbed in gorgeous raiment, pale-skinned men and women with crimson lips danced in pairs with light, graceful steps. Darkwing beetles weaved between them with prismatically glowing ends, burning out in midair only to be replaced by ever-growing numbers of new insects. The jovial Nobles held in their hands sloshing glasses of red wine or bubbly glasses of champagne they would never drink.
“What the hell’s going on here?”
Ringard got an answer to his question.
“It’s an illusion,” said the hoarse voice.
“An illusion?”
“Yeah, holograms. With these images, the molecular bonds have been strengthened to give ’em the same mass as the real thing.”
“Why would they do that?” Ringard asked.
“The castle’s been doing it since we came in the first time. The waltz, the dancers, the band, and the Nobles are all just solid projection
s!”
“I really don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to get it. Now, let’s get going.”
Entering the castle with the source of these questions was a young man with no use for small talk.
An alarm instantly began to wail, and guards raced to the scene. There were even a few indoor combat vehicles brandishing laser cannons like twitching antennae.
“Those an illusion, too?” asked the warrior.
“Nope,” the hoarse voice replied, “they’re the real deal.”
Ringard’s iron rings were ready to greet them—but just before they got the chance, the combat vehicles and security detail all vanished. Perhaps they’d been a dream.
New guards came from the end of the corridor.
“Don’t shoot! We’re human!” they shouted as one. “That Professor fella came to take the grand duke’s place. He set the ‘Night Fantasia’ into motion. So we decided to get while the getting’s good.”
“Yeah, do that,” Ringard said, and then he asked them where the Professor was.
“In his grace the grand duke’s resting place. But its location is unknown even to us.”
“Where’s Vyken?” D inquired.
“We looked for him but couldn’t find him,” one of the guards replied. “When the Professor got here, seems the two of them got to talking.”
Watching the fugitives flee, Ringard said, “What a pitiful bunch. Don’t give a rat’s ass about their lord’s safety. No wonder nobody takes humans seriously.”
“Not everybody’s like that,” the hoarse voice replied. “Those guys just aren’t the best examples.”
As the bickering continued, they advanced deeper into the castle.
“Gonna have to find his resting place,” said Ringard. “Or should I just go and make the whole castle disappear?”
The hoarse voice replied, “You’d just be making the same fool mistake all over again, you idiot!”
“What’d you say?” Ringard snarled.
Suddenly, their surroundings darkened.
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