The Forever Gate Compendium Edition

by Isaac Hooke

  Hoodwink didn't slow. "We've an appointment with the mayor, we do."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Tanner fought at the heart of the street battle in the Black Den.

  He'd sent himself back Inside, and given out twenty lightning rings and four fire swords. The defenders had quickly learned how to use them. He'd kept one fire sword for himself, and given one each to Calico Cap and Al Dooran, who fought beside him. Al was surprisingly adept with the fire blade, and he hacked down Direwalkers and threw flame like one born to it. Cap had a little more trouble controlling the flames, but he was an expert fighter. Maybe as good as Tanner, even. Not that skill mattered much in a fight like this. Hack, stab, release flame, stab again. There was no room for fancy swordplay or deft footwork, just butchery as the ranks bore down upon them.

  Those with the rings had long since exhausted their charges. As for the remaining two fire swords, he'd lost sight of the men who had them, and he supposed they were dead.

  The long line of defenders had contracted into small, sporadic circles. Tanner belonged to the biggest circle—twenty men with ordinary swords fighting alongside the three with swords of flame. The attack was ceaseless, endless. The Direwalkers kept rushing through the gap in the wall. Rocks kept plummeting from the sky. And though Tanner's group inflicted terrible damage, the defenders were slowly falling. Twenty men became nineteen. Eighteen. The numbers were simply against them.

  The defenders had held out long enough. It was time to retreat for the sewage outlet. The Direwalkers had breached the line long ago, and those refugees who hadn't escaped by now were probably dead.

  "Retreat!" Tanner called.

  Vitra flowed through his veins, empowering him yet weakening him all the same. He was growing tired. Cap and Al must have felt it even more in their all-too human bodies.

  Yet no one moved to break the defensive circle.

  An arrow skimmed Tanner's cheek, drawing blood.

  He glanced at Cap. The man was snarling, his eyes filled with bloodlust. His furs were no longer calico, but black and matted.

  "Retreat!" Tanner repeated above the din.

  A particularly large surge of Direwalkers raced through the gaping hole in the wall.

  In addition to the fire sword, Tanner had also kept a satchel filled with pipe bombs and other miscellanea such as ropes and tinder sets for himself. He grabbed a pipe bomb from the satchel, bit the igniter, and hurled it into the oncoming surge.

  The Direwalkers exploded in a mess of body parts and gristle.

  "Retreat!" Cap finally said.

  One of the thugs hoisted a black flag into the air.

  Tanner didn't wait much longer than that to flee. Cap and Al were at his side, and the remainder of the ever-dwindling defenders crowded down the main street just behind them. They slew any Direwalkers that got in their way.

  That is, until Brute dropped down from one of the houses just ahead.

  Ari's killer.

  Tanner spread his arms wide and slowed, bringing the defenders behind him to a reluctant halt. Cap and Al hurled flames at the Direwalker, but Brute advanced, unscathed. The four-armed Direwalker held a scimitar in each of its hands and wore a wicked grin on its face.

  "I got this!" Tanner told his companions. "Go around the Direwalker. Don't get close to the thing or you're dead. Go! I'll meet you in the sewers."

  Al patted Tanner on the shoulder. "You're a good man." He and the others moved on, giving the Direwalker a very wide berth.

  Brute turned to take a swipe at a few of them, but Tanner hurried forward and prodded the big Direwalker. Brute slapped his sword aside with a leer.

  Tanner backed off. He flexed his fingers on the hilt of his sword, drawing vitra, readying himself. He had been dreaming of this day.

  Of vengeance.

  "No!" Brute abruptly hurled one of its scimitars. Tanner made to deflect the blow, but then he realized that the throw was wide.

  The blade skewered another Direwalker beside him. The thing had launched itself unnoticed at Tanner from the side.

  The message was clear to any Direwalkers watching.

  Tanner was Brute's.

  The four-armed Direwalker approached, and the two circled one another. Brute squashed one foot down on the head of the Direwalker it had just killed, grabbed the hilt of the embedded sword, and drew the weapon out in a bloody spurt.

  Tanner used the opportunity to attack. He ran forward, coming at the thing from the side, and launched flames into its face. He somersaulted high, bringing the blade down like a guillotine into the back of the Direwalker's neck.

  Though temporarily blinded by the flame, somehow Brute anticipated the attack and parried the blade with two of its swords. Its remaining two weapons swiveled upward, and if Tanner hadn't twisted in midair he would've been skewered.

  Tanner hit Brute with his shoulder, and rolled off its back. He instantly stabbed backward with the sword, and felt the blade connect with something hard. The vibrations passed up Tanner's wrists and into his arms.

  He glanced behind. The tip of the sword had struck Brute squarely in the ribcage, but hadn't penetrated. It was like he'd struck stone.

  Tanner had never fought Brute blade to blade before, but he should've guessed at this outcome. After all, Ari was a better swordsman than him and she couldn't defeat it.

  Brute's flesh was impervious to any weapon.

  The Direwalker pivoted toward him, mouth upturned in anticipation of the kill.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Hoodwink strode with purpose through the halls of Jeremy's manor house, leading the Dwarf on a chain behind him, the sword held close to its throat. He kept the blade cool, deprived of vitra, so as not to scorch the gol's neck.

  The Direwalkers in the house gave Hoodwink a wide berth, snarling and clawing at the air as he passed. If any Direwalker came too close, Hoodwink just had to flex his arm and pretend he was going to behead the Dwarf, and the Direwalker would retreat right quick. Still, the Direwalkers shadowed him, and he gathered quite the escort by the time he reached the reception hall.

  "Release me while you still have the chance, Hoodwink," the Dwarf said. "And you may yet survive this day."

  "Dwarf," Hoodwink said. "Don't know where to begin with you, I don't. You've no inkling of the germ, do you? The size of it all. Of course you can't know. The bitch at your neck cuts you off from everything. But you must have seen it, those days ago, when you were still whole. Seen how much of the world you live in has been lost. You're the one who'll be lucky to survive this day."

  "All I've seen is the path of doom," the Dwarf said. "The end of humankind. We will live on. The machines. The A.I.s. But the humans, they will be no more. This is what you want, no?"

  Hoodwink pressed the sword into the Dwarf's neck. "Don't ever think you know what I want, gol. Don't ever presume. And you'll be quiet now, you hear?"

  The Dwarf kept its peace.

  Hoodwink crossed the red ermine carpet that spanned the floor of the reception hall. There was something uncanny about that carpet, and he thought he saw parts of it warping and elongating on the outskirts of his vision, but whenever he glanced at those sections head-on, the rug appeared normal. It almost seemed like the carpet was watching him somehow.

  He didn't like the feeling.

  He proceeded upstairs to Jeremy's bedchamber and marched inside without knocking. The curtains were closed, shutting out most of the daylight, but there was still enough light to discern the features of the room. Tapestries of underwater cities decorated the walls, set between statues of coral reefs and vases etched with sea creatures. The comforter on the bed had an image of a jellyfish painted across it.

  Dressed in a black robe with the hood raised, Jeremy was kneeling before a tall mirror. His back was to Hoodwink but his features were visible in the mirror, though a little obscured in the dim light. There was some gold threadwork on one of his sleeves.

  Direwalkers followed Hoodwink inside, keeping a tolerable distance a
way.

  "Leave us," Jeremy said. The Direwalkers obeyed. Before the last one left, Jeremy added, "And shut the door behind you."

  The door slammed.

  "Greetings, brother," Jeremy said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Tanner couldn't think. There was no time to draw vitra, not with Brute's blades flashing in on him, trying to take his head. He could only exist in the moment. Respond on instinct. Unconsciously regurgitate the swordplay training sessions he'd uploaded to his avatar. His practice opponent had never moved this fast.

  A scimitar chopped down at his arm. He parried. Another scimitar cut at his chest. He brought his weapon up just in time. Another scimitar was already coming in for his throat. And another behind that. He dodged left, then right, and just had time to bring his blade up for the first scimitar again. The second scimitar came in for his heart. He twisted sideways, and the scimitar skimmed across his flesh, bouncing off one of his ribs. The third scimitar was already coming in. The fourth. Tanner barely deflected the blows.

  He was going to lose.

  There were screams around him as other Direwalkers stormed the houses and chased out Denizen holdouts. Some of those men and women ran too close, and Brute turned aside to hack them down with a big smile on its face.

  Tanner took advantage of Brute's distraction to leap on a barrel, and then up onto a nearby rooftop. He stumbled backward over the roof's snow as he frantically searched his satchel for a pipe bomb. Brute was already climbing up after him.

  Tanner found the bomb, and bit the igniter right down—he wanted the fuse as short as possible. "Catch." He tossed the bomb at the Direwalker.

  It detonated. The shock-wave propelled Tanner to the neighboring rooftop and he rolled off onto the street beyond. He lay there, stunned. A high-pitched keen filled his hearing, sourced by his own ear drums. His ears felt wet, and when he touched his right lobe his fingers came away red.

  He hurt all over, but he dismissed the pain and, calling on all his gol strength, he forced himself up. He overlaid the map of the city over his vision and he stumbled through the mayhem, somehow finding the strength to fight off any Direwalkers that got in his way. He grew stronger with each step, and soon he was almost back to his old self.

  Rocks continued to fall from the sky, crushing houses, and sometimes Direwalkers. He glanced back a few times, but didn't see Brute.

  Yet.

  He reached the sewer outlet. A large group of Direwalkers had gathered there, fifty maybe, fighting the last of the holdouts. Cap and Al were still there, judging from the weak flames he saw arcing above the Direwalkers' heads. He wondered why the defenders hadn't fled into the sewers yet.

  He gathered his strength and then carved his way through the Direwalkers, his sword molten with the heat of bloodlust. Tanner felt no guilt at striking the enemy from behind, because that's exactly how Brute had dispatched him the first time they'd met.

  He ducked a claw to the face. He booted a Direwalker behind the knee. He released a torrent of flame. Tanner didn't dare stop, because to stop would mean to allow the Direwalkers to surround him.

  And then he was through. One moment he was surrounded by death and blood, the next he was face to face with Cap. The two of them very nearly struck each other down in that moment.

  Tanner swung to the side, fending off a Direwalker, and took his place beside Cap and Al.

  "Where you been?" Cap sounded muffled—Tanner's hearing still hadn't fully recovered.

  "Busy!" Tanner released a small spout of flame, enough to sear a Direwalker's face off. Tanner's strength was starting to ebb again, and his weapon felt heavier all the time. He could only imagine how tired the humans must feel. "Why haven't you fled?"

  "Outlet's sealed with rubble." Cap hewed the sword down with both hands, slicing open a Direwalker's neck. The man had definitely slowed. "Fire swords can't make a dent in it."

  Ah.

  Tanner deflected two blows, then kicked the first Direwalker in the chest and stabbed the second through the eye. "I'll see what I can do."

  He hurried to the outlet and stumbled over the mangled bodies just inside the tunnel. He reached an impassible wall of debris. Two defenders knelt before the wall, trying to dig it out.

  "Out!" Tanner said.

  The men obeyed.

  Tanner jabbed his sword into the rubble, right to the hilt. He pressed on the grip, shifting his weight left, right, up and down, but the blade wouldn't move. He released a fiery half-sphere like Ari had done in the chimney of Jeremy's duplicate mansion. The pressure created a momentary gap.

  Unfortunately, more debris simply flowed in to fill it.

  Trapped.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "I'm not your brother." Hoodwink said.

  "But I think you are. Why else do we look so much alike?" Jeremy clambered upright and turned around. Hoodwink could see his face a bit better. Jeremy had grown out his mustache, and now indeed he looked the spitting image of Hoodwink.

  Jeremy's gaze descended to the Dwarf. "You bring gifts?"

  "I bring doom. Yours, specifically." Hoodwink kicked the Dwarf behind the knee, and made the gol kneel. He secured the chain to one of the bed posts, welding the links in place with heat from the sword. Then he stalked forward, brandishing the blade casually in hand. "You used Brute to kill Ari."

  Jeremy raised his palms. "Now now, Hoodwink. The orders were to eliminate all outside threats. She was a threat."

  "She was part of my hand-picked team." Hoodwink didn't slow his advance.

  Jeremy stepped back, bumping into the mirror. "A team that robbed me of my Control Room, and both my Revision Rooms?"

  Hoodwink stopped roughly a pace from Jeremy. Close enough to spit him with the fire sword. "You were meant to give her the Boxes." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

  "Those orders were counter to the Great One's commands. I mentioned your order to him, and your interfering daughter, and the Great One specifically countermanded the order."

  "You tortured her when she first came," Hoodwink said. "Tried to revise her. Tanner told me everything."

  "Oh Hoodwink, why so dramatic? I didn't torture her. I tortured her friends, maybe. And sure, I might've tried to revise her, but that's not exactly a new experience for her now is it? We needed to know where the New User headquarters were. As I said, the Great One wanted to eliminate all outside threats."

  "That's not how Tanner told it. Said you wanted to find out how she became a gol."

  "Oh." Jeremy licked his lips. "Well, okay, that might have been earlier."

  "I find that mighty interesting, because you already knew that I was a gol. You just wanted any old excuse to revise her, didn't you?"

  "Now look, Hoodwink—"

  "And as for the New User headquarters, I could have easily told you where to find them. I could have told you everything."

  "And yet it is telling that you did not!" Jeremy said.

  Hoodwink shook his head. "You're cruel. Sadistic. And for no reason. What you did to Marks, what you did to Ari, it's beyond cause."

  Jeremy rounded his lips. "I am a bit cruel at times, aren't I? At least I can admit it. But come now, we both know that's why you like me so much. And I'd hardly say I'm cruel for no reason."

  Hoodwink raised an expectant eyebrow.

  "I am formed by my two greatest vices," Jeremy said. "My love for power, and I my hate for humanity. A world of clean, scentless gols is much preferable to a world of dirty, stinking humans. Humans are such pesky things, always running around to and fro, looking for things to do, moping about, whining about their lot in life. Always dirtying themselves by licking the feet of their betters. But I? I'll never lick any human's feet. I'm more than human. Super-human. The Übermensch. I know this. I sense it. I'm above every one of them. And as for my aforementioned cruelty, well now, I've always believed in a life without limits. A man in my position can do anything he wants. Anything. Without repercussions."

  "There's always reper
cussions." Hoodwink let vitra flow into the blade so that it became red-hot.

  Jeremy scarcely noticed. "Why are you so hard on me, Hoodwink? I did give your sweet little Ari the Control Room in the end. Along with her just deserts, speaking of repercussions."

  "Just deserts?" Hoodwink's hand shot out and the sword tip caressed the hollow of Jeremy's neck, beneath the bronze bitch. "I go away for a while, just a little while, and you destroy everything that's dear to me. You bastard, you goddamn bastard."

  He heard the sizzle of Jeremy's flesh. "You think me a fool don't you Hoodwink? It's a dangerous game you play, working both sides. Better to commit to one side or the other. You'll be torn apart in the ensuing bloodbath, mark my words."

  "Sides? The only side I'm on is my own." Hoodwink watched a small wisp of smoke rise from Jeremy's neck. "The time for games and pleasantries is over. Where's the disk?"

  A mocking smile curled those lips. "Ah. Now I understand. The disk. That's why you've come. That's why you bring the Dwarf in parley."

  Hoodwink gritted his teeth. "Where's the disk?"

  "The disk is with the Great One," Jeremy snapped.

  Hoodwink poured more heat into the fire sword. The stench of charred flesh in the room was growing strong. "Let me speak to One then."

  Jeremy laughed. A sword burning his throat, and he actually laughed. "You won't kill me, Hoodwink."

  "Won't I?" Hoodwink remained motionless. He watched the smoke hiss from the flesh wound. The blade was so hot that it instantly cauterized the gash, preventing any blood from spilling forth.

  But Jeremy was still smiling. "Go ahead. Do it. All your plans shall come to ruin. The Council shall have your head."

  "You remember, then?" Hoodwink wondered at the resourcefulness of this man. Had Jeremy known all along?

  Then he noticed that Jeremy's eyes were twinkling. Ah. The man had been fishing. He knew nothing of the Council.

  "I remember enough," Jeremy spat. "Enough to know that this world isn't real. It never was. It never will be."