Kayla lost herself in Tem’s intense eyes. To call them brown didn’t capture the myriad shades of reds, ambers, and even a few warm greens suspended within their depths. In the midnight center, her own face gazed back at her—no longer twisted into a monster.
An unfamiliar flutter settled in the pit of her stomach at the look in his eyes. Could he actually be attracted to her? She need only break the connection to continue simply as friends. But she didn’t look away.
“How can humans compete with AIs?” Kayla asked softly, her heart pounding.
“The government has kept them in check for four hundred years.” Tem enfolded her in his arms, and she melted into him. “But you’re forgetting our secret weapon.”
Kayla’s hands explored the muscles of his back. “What weapon is that?” she whispered as their lips drifted closer.
“You.” Tem grinned, teasing.
“If you’re pinning the hopes of humanity on me, then you’re in deep trouble …” Her lips brushed his, but paused as a distant rumbling echoed through the cavern. A series of high-pitched noises merged into a deep, throbbing staccato.
“What is that?” Kayla asked.
“Some call it music.”
The shrieks, booms, and roars jarred pebbles along the floor into a synchronized dance to the vibrations.
With a triumphant roar, two motorcycles exploded into the cavern. A leather-clad woman piloted the first machine, and a man with the shoulders of a blacksmith rode the second. The lead cycle gunned its engine and surfed a wheelie across the cavern’s floor, while Kayla covered her ears to protect them from the auditory assault pouring from enormous speakers mounted to the bike.
The woman yanked her machine into a collision course with the wall. Kayla flinched at the expected impact, but the bike banked along the curve of the cavern until nearly horizontal, the speed generating enough centrifugal force to counter gravity. The other bike followed her lead and completed a full circuit before regaining the floor amidst a crest of sparks. Both bikes gunned their engines and set a collision course with Kayla and Tem.
The riders’ helmets resembled African tribal masks—a nightmarish dragon for the man and a cruel raptor for the woman. They gunned their engines and surged forward. Tem guided Kayla behind him, and stood his ground.
At the last instant, the lead bike skidded sideways, and sprayed a shower of loose stones over Kayla and Tem. The grating music and engine roar silenced, their echoes fleeing down the corridors like vanquished spirits.
Fatima removed her raptor helmet and sneered. “Am I interrupting?”
Tem stood motionless, his expression unchanged.
The man left the dragon perched on his head like a crown. As he swung off his bike, his tall, rugged physique looked like some ancient hero of the Iliad. Eyes gray, jaw square. An athlete in every sense.
Fatima circled them. “So Tem has finally found a replacement.”
Kayla’s hand slid into Tem’s as her eyes followed this ultimate embodiment of sexuality. Every alluring sway of hips and bounce of full breasts made her own inadequacy apparent. How could she possibly compete with a woman like this? And yet the warmth of Tem’s hand in hers told a different story.
Fatima strutted back to the man in the dragon helmet and stretched upward to kiss him long and hard. Then she looked at Tem. “You remember Durendal, don’t you?” Tem remained silent and she smiled. “He is much more of a man than you—in every way…”
Tem looked at Durendal. “How does it feel, having a lover so obsessed with someone who left her centuries ago?”
Durendal’s lip twitched, and his gaze moved to Fatima. “Why don’t we go.”
Fatima ignored him and pointed at Kayla. “Did Tem tell you how he tricked me into loving him? And once I lost my soul to him, how he discarded me?”
“You know that’s a lie,” Tem said.
“Is it? Do you remember the day we met?”
Tem looked away. “I remember.”
Fatima spoke softly to Kayla, like a friend confiding a deeply cherished secret. “When the Neo-Luddite Plague hit, I watched doctors, politicians, mothers, and every level of society commit acts of brutality that would have horrified them only weeks before. All those respectable citizens who once despised me for selling my body for sex did the same and worse for a few scraps of food.”
Fatima let her hair down in a cascade of florescent purple, a striking contrast to the short, spiked green of their last meeting. Two silver chains stretched from her pierced nose to each ear, and a gold stud impaled her lower lip.
“We’re done here.” Tem started away.
“No,” Kayla said. “I want to hear her side.”
Tem frowned.
“After all,” Kayla said, “don’t you always tell me there’s nothing to fear about the truth?”
Tem’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile, but then he shrugged.
“When the warlords took power,” Fatima said, “I assumed the natural role of concubine to whatever leader dominated. Ganesh remained my bodyguard through it all, desiring only my well-being, though he could have become a warlord if he’d wanted, given his great strength and skill as a fighter.”
Fatima ran her hands suggestively down the sides of her leather-clad breasts, narrow waist, and then out along the voluptuous curves of her hips. “With this body, I lived better than I ever had. It didn’t matter to me who took over, since each claimed me like a crown the moment they ascended the throne.”
The prostitute sauntered over to Tem and looked him up and down. “Then came rumors of a powerful leader to the north. They spoke of the legend rising from his grave and returning to conquer the world.”
“The Great Khan approached with an army in the tens of thousands. His emissaries delivered the same ultimatum that every warlord, city, and government received. Submit and you will be spared. Resist and every man above the age of twelve will be executed.”
Kayla glanced at Tem in shock. “You ordered the death of prisoners of war?”
“I did what seemed right at the time,” Tem said, without looking at her.
Fatima continued. “Because of this policy, most cities opened their gates to the new Khan without a fight. The current ruler I serviced called himself Kangxi, even though he’d only been a lowly electrician a few months before. Many of his generals pleaded with him to submit and settle for a governorship, but he ended all debate by having them executed.”
Fatima crouched slightly and swept her arms in a wide circle, as if conjuring the scene she described. “The morning sun revealed the Khan’s army encamped to the north of the city, the mists shrouding it like some ancient horde returned from the dead. But Kangxi had scrounged enough fuel to get a handful of military helicopters operational and assumed he had the technological edge. When a final demand of surrender arrived, Kangxi replied with a barrage of rockets directed at the Khan’s personal tent. He threw every resource, airship, and tank against the center of the Mongol encampment to decapitate the enemy.
“It would have succeeded against anyone other than Temujin.” Fatima smiled with what seemed pride. “But you’ve probably already learned how clever he can be. By the time Kangxi realized that only a few dozen soldiers maintained the illusion of activity in the encampment, it was too late. The Khan launched his concealed forces from the south, complete with modern attack-drones supported by mounted cavalry armed with thermo-guns. They swept through the barricades nearly unopposed since Kangxi had positioned most of his men on the north wall. The battle ended so quickly it seemed anti-climactic.”
“This is old history,” Tem said.
“It’s fascinating.” Kayla leaned forward. “So you’re saying Tem was some sort of a king?”
Fatima’s eyes brightened. “More than that! His men worshiped him like Alexander, Caesar, and Napoleon combined!” Fatima tossed a sidelong glance at Tem and sniffed as if at some offensive odor. “It’s hard to believe it now, but Temujin didn’t always grovel beneath the earth
like some groundhog afraid of its shadow.”
Durendal walked over and placed a hand on her waist. “What’s the point of this?”
She spun on him like a wildcat and slapped his hand away. “If you want to go, then go! This is my business. If you don’t want me sharing your bed any longer, then leave now.”
Fatima placed her hands on her hips and stared up at him with a challenge. His square jaw clenched, but then his eyes drifted down to Fatima’s breasts.
Durendal walked back to the bikes and waited.
Fatima turned to Kayla and smiled. “When Temujin walked into the throne room, surrounded by his fighters, Kangxi fell to his knees before the Khan and begged him for mercy. I could hear the slaughter outside as the victorious soldiers fulfilled his promise. ‘It is because of you I must murder so many,’ Temujin said before taking off Kangxi’s head with a disdainful sweep of his sword.
“Then he turned his gaze on me.” Fatima leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m sure you know the power of his gaze. I see that he’s been working his con on you as well.”
A queasiness slithered through Kayla’s stomach like a waking serpent. Was she just another challenge for Tem? One more conquest to discard once she’d given in?
“I’d been through this process many times. Engorged with the adrenaline of battle, many victors had torn my clothes off and taken me right there in front of their own soldiers, reveling in the primal urges underlying both war and sex.”
Fatima strutted in front of Tem like a prosecutor examining a witness.
“The victorious Khan looked Ganesh and me over and asked, ‘Are you both Gene-Freaks, then?’ We nodded, and he made a slight gesture with his sword. ‘Then you are free to go,’ he said.”
Confusion shrouded Fatima’s eyes as she stared unseeing past Kayla. “That was the first time a man looked upon me without lust. Tem’s lack of emotion angered and frightened me. My entire self-worth depended upon a man’s desire.”
Fatima swooped her arms back and raised her chin. “So I let the robes fall from my shoulders, leaving me naked before him. I felt the gaze of the soldiers, but kept my eyes locked on the Great Khan, desperate for a hint of desire in his eyes. Instead, he showed only amusement.”
Fatima’s hands trembled. “I shouted insults, asking if he desired boys. One of the soldiers said, ‘If he were gay, I’d be the first in line!’
“The other soldiers roared with laughter, and I felt the sting of humiliation. ‘Maybe the Great Temujin isn’t man enough for me, then?’ I shouted. The soldiers stopped laughing and raised their weapons at my affront. Tem motioned them still.
“ ‘It’s unnecessary to degrade yourself before me,’ he said. ‘I have decreed the death penalty for any taking a woman against her will.’
“ ‘Without your personal protection,’ I said to him, ‘I will never be safe from your soldiers.’ In reality, his soldiers had more to fear from me.
“ ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘You and your companion may travel with my personal retinue under my protection and assurance that none will harm you.’ ”
Fatima paced back and forth, her steel-tipped boots ringing with each step. “I thought I’d tricked him. How gullible I was!”
“Is what she says true?” Kayla asked Tem.
He lowered his eyes. “It’s true. I’d been told what she was and took it as a challenge. I valued self-control above all else and wondered how she’d react to a man who didn’t trigger her genetic response.”
“But you weren’t trying to make her fall in love with you?” Kayla asked.
Tem remained silent for a few moments. “Not consciously. At least, at first.”
His reply seemed evasive. Was the prostitute telling the truth, after all?
Fatima continued. “I traveled with the resurrected Khan as he brought all of Asia, Russia, and Japan under his control. In every new conquest, he created police forces, brigades of engineers, civil servants, doctors, and social workers to deal with the problems of a collapsed society. I even helped him with the planning. Soon, entire countries begged entry to the growing empire.”
Compassion filled Kayla’s heart at Durendal’s tortured expression. How could he stand to remain there at all? Ganesh had spoken of men so addicted to Fatima that they’d squander their entire fortunes for her. Durendal’s tall body seemed more powerful even than Tem, and yet it seemed her power overmatched him.
Fatima turned to Kayla with a look of wonder. “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I finally fell in love with him. He’d never shown any interest in me romantically, which is probably the only way I could have fallen in love.
“After defeating the Russian Federation of Neo-Tzars, he sprang his carefully laid trap and confessed his love for me.” Fatima gazed at him with such heartrending longing, that Kayla’s own heart twisted in sorrow for her.
Tem’s silence confirmed her words.
“When the great Khan announced his soon-to-be empress,” Fatima said, “the silence within his court stung us both. As an infertile Gene-Freak, I could give him no child as heir to the empire, not to mention the shame of having their god wed a lowly prostitute.”
“He asked you to marry him?” Kayla asked, and let go of Tem’s hand.
Fatima smiled. “Oh, he didn’t just ask me to marry him, he did so with all the pomp and circumstance of the emperor of half the globe.”
“And four hundred years ago, I divorced you,” Tem said.
Fatima spat in his face, and Tem’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“You tricked me into loving you,” Fatima said, “just like you did your own people, and then you abandoned us all!”
Tem seized Fatima by her throat and raised his fist. “That’s a lie!” His face contorted with rage, and his knuckles trembled inches from Fatima’s dark eyes.
Kayla sucked in her breath, and Durendal took a step forward.
Rather than fear, Fatima stared at him with eagerness, as if waiting for the blow like a baby bird begging a worm from its mother.
Tem pushed her away and turned his back on her.
Kayla’s heart skipped a beat. What did she mean, abandoned his own people?
“You’re alive because of me,” Fatima said. “Or have you forgotten that as well?”
Tem looked at Kayla. “I’m leaving. It’s up to you whether you want to come with me, or listen to more of her lies.” Tem started for one of the tunnels.
Fatima glared at Durendal, her eyes shaming him. “Are you going to let him insult me like that?” Durendal stepped into Tem’s path and placed a hand on the Mongol’s chest. Tem stopped. His eyes had gone black, dead calm. Durendal stood half a foot taller than the nomad—and yet he hesitated.
“Go ahead,” Tem said. “I’m ready.”
“Rip him apart!” Fatima shouted to her lover, eager for blood spilled in defense of her honor.
Durendal looked into the eyes of one of the greatest warriors in all of history, and made no move.
The smell of sweat-stained leather filled the air around Kayla and mixed with the odor of oil from the bizarre machines. An aching pain throbbed in her chest as the memory of Elias fighting Ishan flashed before her mind. What would she do if Durendal attacked Tem? If she intervened, they’d know her secret.
“What are you waiting for?” Fatima pushed against his back, but his muscled physique resisted her delicate hands like a boulder.
Tem waited, patient as a bored tiger.
Durendal averted his eyes and mounted his bike. Fatima punched, swore, and shoved him, but he shrugged her off and kicked the engine into life. The roars of the machine reverberated through the chamber as he surged away, drowning out Fatima’s curses. He vanished into one of the tunnels, and the avalanche of his engine receded into the distance.
Kayla breathed a sigh of relief.
Without a word, Tem walked away, and Kayla followed.
“How’s the Mind-Link mystery going, by the way?” Fatima asked. “I’m sure Tem has told you that it
means you can’t possibly be from Potemia.”
Kayla stopped and turned. “I know where I’m from.”
Fatima laughed, short and harsh. “Hasn’t Tem informed you that memories can be implanted?”
“Is she telling the truth?” Kayla asked him.
Reluctantly, Tem nodded.
Fatima’s smile dripped malice. “Since it’s impossible for anyone in Potemia to have a Mind-Link, the only explanation is that you originated outside the Wall, and all your memories of Potemia are illusions implanted at the moment of your creation, or substituted for your actual memories.”
Kayla stood frozen, her entire being stripped away with those few words.
Cursing under his breath, Tem started toward Fatima, but her laughter mixed with the roar of her motorcycle as she sped away. When Tem returned to Kayla’s side, the anguish filled her gut like a knot of thorns. “Is what she said true? Could everyone I’ve known in Potemia be an illusion?”
“It’s possible,” Tem said.
The Monk, Suzy, and even Ishan might never have existed? Kayla swayed, and Tem grasped her arm to steady her.
Puck, at least, was real. She could feel him dozing in her pocket. But how could she be sure he came from Potemia?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“It’s impossible to re-enter Potemia.” Tem’s voice held a tortured compassion. “Why add to your grief with something impossible to know?”
Her legs gave way.
“Kayla!” Tem shouted as he eased her to the ground—but she willingly surrendered herself to the blackness.
Chapter 17
Kayla drifted in the oblivion of unconsciousness until her mind’s eye sculpted a poised woman in her mid-twenties. Her short black hair accentuated the perfect symmetry of her high cheekbones and cerulean eyes. A somber pantsuit of gray and white lent an air of professionalism to her powder-white skin and athletic figure.
The woman stared directly at Kayla and spoke with the enthusiasm of a town gossip. “This is Laura Robb reporting for Sky World News at what must be considered one of the most historic events in all of mankind’s history!”
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