Book 1 - The Man With the Golden Torc (26 page)

Our soldier guide handed us over into Solomon Krieg’s care with
visible relief and not a little haste, barely managing a sketchy salute before
hurrying back to his post at the entrance portal. I studied Krieg openly. A
legend in his own right, the most terrible secret weapon the British Secret
Service ever produced. The English Assassin, the British Bogeyman: Solomon Krieg
had many such names down the years. But there was nothing romantic about the
Golem with the Atomic Brain. In his own way, he was almost as disturbing as Mr.
Stab. A killer with no conscience, no compassion, and, many said, no soul. The
greatest secret agent of all, because he would do absolutely anything and never
once question his orders. He was a terror weapon from the coldest part of the
Cold War, designed to scare the shit out of whomever he was up against.

It was a very cold Cold War. Everyone did terrible things, then.

Krieg was a little over six feet tall, with jet-black hair and
pale colourless skin that contrasted eerily with his black uniform. He was
muscular but not to any unusual extent. That wasn’t where his strength came
from. Krieg was carved from clay, made flesh with ancient magics, and then
supercharged with implanted mechanisms. The best technology of his day. Right
across his forehead ran a long deep scar, usually hidden by makeup in the old
photos I’d seen. It looked like they’d just sawed the top of his head off,
popped in their amazing atomic brain, and then jammed the top back on again. It
wasn’t a subtle age, back then.

Just standing before us, calm and collected, his pale face empty
of all emotion, Krieg looked dangerous. Like a coiled snake or a crouching
tiger, ready to strike out and kill at any moment, without warning. I only had
to look at him, and I believed every terrible story I’d heard about him. When he
finally did speak, his voice was a harsh whisper, uninflected and uncaring.

"Edwin Drood," he said, and just hearing my name in such a cold
voice was like listening to my own death warrant. "It is right that you should
come to us. Now that you’re rogue. You understand what it is, to be betrayed by
those you gave your life to. You must meet Mr. Truman. He is a man of vision and
destiny. You can trust him."

"Well," I said. "That’s good to know. Can my companions come
too?"

Solomon Krieg looked them over with his cold, unblinking gaze.
"If they behave themselves. You understand: if they step out of line, I may have
to spank them."

"Go right ahead," I said. "I’ll hold your coat."

"Come on, Solomon," said Molly. "You must remember me. You were
the one who brought me into Manifest Destiny, four years ago. At the Wulfshead.
Remember?"

"No," said Solomon Krieg.

He led us down yet another steel corridor, around a corner, and
into a simple, private office. And there behind a simple desk sat the head of
Manifest Destiny. Leader of the resistance against the old and mighty power of
the Droods. He sat in his swivel chair with his back to us, watching as a dozen
monitor screens blazed information at him. From the way he moved his head slowly
back and forth, it seemed he was taking it all in, though it was just a babble
of mixed-up noise to me. He made us wait a while, just to remind us who was in
charge here, and then he waved one hand at the screens, and they all shut down
at once. He turned slowly around to face us, while Solomon Krieg took up a place
at his side. Truman had a broad, kindly face, but that wasn’t what I was looking
at. I’d seen some strange sights in my time, but what Truman had done to himself
was truly extraordinary.

Long steel rods thrust out of his shaven head at regular
intervals, radiating out for over a foot in length, connected by a wide steel
hoop, like a great metal halo. The way the skin puckered around the base of the
rods suggested they’d been there for some time. The combined weight must have
been appalling, but Truman showed no sign of any strain. My first thought was
that he’d been in an accident, and this was some kind of head brace, but the
pride in his eyes and in his bearing suggested differently.

Look at what I have done to myself, his face said. Isn’t it
magnificent?

"Yes," he said, in a deep authoritative voice. "It’s all my own
work. I drilled the holes in my skull myself, inserted the steel rods one at a
time, forcing them a specific distance into my brain, following my own very
careful calculations. And then all I had to do was connect them up with a
reinforcing ring, and I became the first man to realise the true potential of
the human brain. Oh, yes, my friends, this crown of thorns serves a definite
purpose."

"Really?" I said. "I’m so glad to hear that."

"It all arose out of my interest in acupuncture and
trepanation," he said, carrying on with his prepared speech as though he hadn’t
even heard me, and perhaps he hadn’t. "The rods in my brain activate the energy
centres, expand my thoughts, and increase the power of my mind beyond all normal
limitations. My brain is now the equal of any computer, able to store incredible
amounts of information, make decisions at undreamt-of speed, and multitask like
you wouldn’t believe. I hold the entire organisation of Manifest Destiny in my
head, down to the smallest detail. Nothing escapes me.

"I can see all the scientific and magical forces at work in the
world around me, all the things that are hidden to most mortals. I can see all
the invisible and intangible threats to the works of man. And at the same time,
I am invisible and invulnerable to all those forces who would bring me down, if
they could. No magic or science can touch me now."

I tried to interrupt, but he was on a roll. He must have said
this many times before, to new recruits, but I could tell he never got tired of
it.

"I created Manifest Destiny through the force of my own will,
bringing people to me and convincing them of the need for an organisation like
this. People of like mind and true hearts, dedicated body and soul to the good
and necessary work before us. Nothing less than freeing humanity from the
ancient yoke of the Droods. Nothing less than setting mankind free, at last.
Every day my agents walk abroad in the world, gathering new allies, sabotaging
the Drood infrastructure, and clawing the world back from them, inch by inch.
We’re not strong enough to go head-to-head with the Droods, not yet. But soon
enough, we will be. And then…we’ll see a whole new world, with mankind no longer
held in check by Drood authority, free to make our own destiny at last."

He leaned forward across his desk, fixing me with his powerful
gaze. He was staring right into the golden mask of Drood armour, but it didn’t
seem to faze him at all. "Join us, Edwin. You know now that everything your
family taught you is a lie. Believe me; it is a far greater honour to free a
world than to rule it. With your help, with what you know, and with the secrets
of your incredible armour…there are no limits to what we might achieve! Join us,
Edwin. Be my agent. And I will give you a new cause and a new purpose. Just like
Solomon here."

He smiled briefly at the artificial man standing beside him. "My
faithful Solomon. He was a lost soul when I found him. Discarded by his
creators, abandoned by those he’d served so faithfully and for so long. A
warrior without a war. I opened his eyes to a new cause, new possibilities, and
now he is a part of the greatest and most important army this world has ever
known. An organisation dedicated to one end…setting mankind free."

"Tell me," I said when he finally paused for breath, "did you
start getting these ideas before or after you began drilling holes in your
head?"

He stared at me blankly for a moment, and Solomon Krieg stirred
ominously. And then Truman laughed, a big open cheerful sound, and Solomon
relaxed again. Truman shook his head slowly, still chuckling.

"I know; I do tend to go on a bit once I get started, don’t I?
But people expect a big speech from the big man, so…Damn, it’s good to have
someone in here who isn’t intimidated or overawed by me! Do you have any idea
how hard it is for me to have a normal conversation around here? It’s hard to
just chat with other people by the watercooler, when everyone’s ready to agree
with every word I say, as though it was holy writ…Come and join us, Edwin, if
only so I can have someone around me who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m
talking crap."

He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help grinning back. I liked him
rather more now, even if I still didn’t entirely trust him. First rule of an
agent: if something seems too good to be true, it probably is too good to be
true. Truman turned his smile on Molly.

"How’s my little fellow traveller? Still spreading chaos among
our enemies? Good, good…You’ve done well, Molly, in bringing Edwin to me. I know
how badly you must have wanted to kill him. I’m not blind to the history you two
have. But rest assured, having him here changes everything. The time is coming
when we will take Drood Hall by force, and you have my word that you will be
with us on that day and wade in Drood blood up to your ankles."

"You know what a girl wants to hear," said Molly.

Truman smiled at Mr. Stab and Girl Flower, if a little more
distantly.

"Be welcome here, my friends. There is good work here for you to
take up, should you choose to accept it. If not, go freely and of your own
will." He looked back at me, his smile broadening again. "Tell me the truth,
Edwin. Now that you’ve seen Manifest Destiny, what do you think of it?"

"You have a very impressive organisation," I said carefully.
"But doesn’t it all strike you as just a bit…Aryan?"

"Hell, no," Truman said immediately. "That was the past. We’re
only interested in the future. We have military discipline here because you
can’t get anything done without it. And everyone is expected to achieve their
full potential. But we are all dedicated to the cause first, and ourselves
second."

"I’m still not clear on the philosophy behind your cause," I
said.

"Freedom is a marvellous concept, but a bit nebulous in
practice. Overthrowing my family is one thing; but what do you propose to
replace them with? What, exactly, is Manifest Destiny for?"

Truman sat back in his chair and considered me thoughtfully. He
wasn’t smiling anymore. He knew set speeches wouldn’t work with me. Tiny sparks
manifested briefly among his halo of steel rods, like passing thoughts. When he
finally spoke, he chose his words carefully, directing them only at me, ignoring
everyone else in his office.

"Man has gotten soft," he said flatly. "Under Drood rule, he’s
lost his courage and his pride. The Droods have used unfair, nonhuman advantages
to keep us in our place, like sheep. They maintain a bland status quo that
allows alien and magical forces and creatures to run freely in what was always
supposed to be our world. Man’s world. The Droods’ control over us must be
broken, by any means necessary, so that these inhuman beings can be driven out
of our world and man can be free to forge his own destiny at last."

"And yet," I murmured, "some of these beings are your allies.
The Loathly Ones. The Lurkers on the Threshold. Some might call these
beings…evil. Certainly they have no love for humanity."

Truman spread his hands. "I’m fighting a war, Edwin, against the
greatest conspiracy this world has ever known, against a powerful and implacable
enemy. I have to take my allies where I can find them. We work together, in
common cause, to bring the Droods down. Afterwards…things will be different."

I took a step forward, and Solomon Krieg tensed. I leaned
forward over Truman’s desk so he could see his own face reflected in my golden
mask.

"If you want me on your side, tell me the truth, Truman. The
whole truth. And don’t hold anything back. This close, the armour will tell me
if you lie, even by omission. Tell me everything, or I walk out of here, right
now."

I was bluffing about my armour being a lie detector, but he had
no way of knowing that. When my armour can do so many amazing things, what’s one
more? I was gambling that Truman was so desperate to get his hands on my secrets
and my armour that he’d tell me things he wouldn’t tell anyone else. Truman
smiled slowly, his eyes bright with the glee of someone who knows something you
don’t know and can’t wait to impress you with it. Once again he spoke only to
me, ignoring my allies.

"Why not?" he said. "I knew you’d be someone I could talk to.
Someone I could trust with…everything. Science came from man’s mind. It is ours.
We created it and we control it. Magic…is a wild thing, unnatural and
uncontrollable, and it always has its own agenda. We make use of it when we
must, but we can never trust it or those who use it. When we come to power,
science will replace magic. It’s the only way man can be truly independent. The
Droods are just our first and most important enemy. Once they have been thrown
down, we will stamp out every other form of magic, and every magical creature,
and mankind shall be free at last."

I glanced at Molly. She was shocked silent, her face drained of
all colour. This was obviously all news to her. I laid a golden hand gently on
her arm, signalling her to hold in her anger till we’d heard it all. I could
tell from Truman’s face that there was more to come.

"Eliminate all undesirables?" I said. "That sounds like a huge
undertaking."

"Oh, it is," said Truman, still smiling. "But we’ve made a good
start. Would you like to see?"

"Yes," I said.

"Yes," said Molly.

Truman chuckled. "Why not? Let me show you the future, Molly.
You’ll find it…educational. Come with me, all of you," he said, but looking only
at me. "I’ve waited such a long time for someone I could share this with, Edwin.
Someone who’d understand. Come with me, Edwin Drood, and see what Manifest
Destiny is all about."

Solomon Krieg wasn’t at all happy about this, but Truman
overruled him, speaking quite sharply in the end. So Krieg led us down into the
levels below the bunkers into caverns they’d carved out of the bedrock
themselves to hold Manifest Destiny’s most important secret. Something hidden
from the rank and file. Krieg and Truman led the way, and I followed, with Molly
and the others behind me. At last we were heading into the true heart of the
labyrinth, where the final truth was waiting to be revealed.