Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 02 (35 page)

Moreover, her entire life had been one of learning and experimenting instead of actually living. She realized that, as nice as Dr. Chandra and his people had been to her, as much as they accommodated her, she was really just a large lab rat to them.

As much as it had embarrassed her to have the AKM’s recoil knock her off the wall, she had reveled in it. Dr.

Chandra and his people had taught her about the concept
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of equal and opposite reactions, but that was a practical demonstration of the principle. That was a lesson she would never forget, but it was delivered in a manner that no one would have ever allowed in the old days.

More importantly to her, though, she had actually done something. Deep down she knew that making the trip from Area 51 to Flagstaff with Dorothy and Mickey was an accomplishment in and of itself, but there she had help because the kids knew where their home was. In going out to rescue Sin, she had operated on her own. She knew that her action had been impulsive and even foolish, but she had no choice, and her inaction would have meant that Sin died.

She found that was the last thing she wanted.

As much as she liked the surprise Bat had shown when Sin explained about how her shooting had caused the man with the antitank missile to shift his aimpoint to the wall, the gratitude coming from Sin made her feel even better. She liked his laughter and even didn’t mind when he joked that he would have had her drive the getaway jeep, but he feared her marksmanship with a car would have been even worse than that with a gun.

The people she had known in the lab were much like Bat in that they had a single focus that dominated their lives. Sinclair MacNeal struck her as a personality with multiple facets. His mind always raced on, looking for a use for something or an angle on it or a relationship of it to something else he knew about. He also cared about people, not just as resources, but as people. When he tipped the concierge for bringing her a new set of clothing from the hotel store, he did it with genuine thanks in mind instead of a desire to impress the other people in the room.

“Hey, kid, you going to be up to this tonight?”

She spun around and brushed strands of gold hair back from her face. “Sin! I didn’t hear you.”

He nodded. “You seemed pretty far away.” He held out a blue windbreaker. “I thought you might need this.

Thinking about your father?”

Rajani nodded, then turned back toward the palace.

”Him, and a lot of things. And, to answer your question, yes, I’m up to going into GBI. Why do you ask?”

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“You’re going to be our early-warning system.” Sin joined her at the railing and leaned on it with his elbows.

”If Fiddleback was able to summon up that devil-worm just to nail us, imagine what he’ll do to hang on to Ryuhito.

We’ll need to know what and where to react to it.”

He turned toward her, and she read the concern from his face even before she felt it. “I know you can find the fighting tough to take—proving once again you’re an intelligent person.”

Rajani shook her head. “Not the violence, but the emotions it engenders. There are some emotions no one should ever have.”

“Yeah, I imagine being around Bat in the
bosozoku
fight was like being forced to read that old piece of trash,
American Psycho.
I’m having a hard time here because I’ll be keeping an eye out for El-Leichter, Nagashita and Bat to see which one shoots me first.”

“Sin, you don’t have to worry about Bat.”

Sin raised an eyebrow. “Oh? He hates me as much as most of Tokyo hates this heat wave.”

“That may be so, but he also respects you.” Rajani half-smiled, “It started when you told him about how you got away from Mr. Handy, then it stayed alive when you talked about the devil-worm. What guaranteed it was how you formulated a plan and were able to work around the objections advanced by Hal, Kazuo and Nagashita. I think Bat finds you borderline dangerous now, which is quite an accomplishment.”

“Forgive me if that doesn’t make me sleep any easier tonight—if I sleep at all.” He smiled at her. “So, can your psychic powers let you see into the future?”

“No, but they could let me see into you.” She shrugged.

”I don’t think I need to, though, because I watched you in there. You know your plan is good, and you’ve done everything you can to make sure it works. Fiddleback is your only random element, and you even have him partially covered.It will be dangerous, but it is also necessary.”

“The only way we can guarantee failure tonight is to not do anything.” Sin turned around and leaned his back into

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the railing. “Everything else is a toss of the cosmic dice.”

She nodded and hugged the windbreaker tight around her body. “If only we knew the odds.”

He winked at her. “Naw, if we knew the odds, we’d be smart enough not to go.” He looped his left arm around her shoulders and steered her back toward the suite. “Come on back inside, Rajani. I have to call room service and I can add some hot tea to take care of that shiver, it’s warm inside.”

“No, Sin, I think I’ll stay out here for a bit.”

“Rajani, stay out here and you’ll catch your death.” He gave her a brief hug. “And that is not something I want to happen.”

An unseasonably cold wind cut at Coyote as he met Mong and the Yidam at the heart of a crowd of monks. He was glad he’d chosen to wear a black turtleneck sweater over his Kevlar vest instead of the T-shirt he’d used during training. His Wildey Wolf rode in the Bianchi shoulder holster, and the two Colt Kraits occupied positions on his hips.

in addition to the small arms, he carried a short carbine that, at first glance, looked almost identical to the carbine version of the M16 automatic rifle. What differentiated the Armalite AR-12 Stormcloud from the generation of weapons that spawned it was the boxier magazine and larger bore. The combat shotgun fed shells in from a 12-round box, and Coyote had specifically loaded his with sets of three buckshot shells and one Dragonfire incendiary round. He had three clips and, while he had picked the weapon up out of professional curiosity after a conversation with Crowley, the lark struck him as being a fortunate bit of luck.

His black combat fatigue pants and combat boots, along with the turtleneck, almost looked like street clothes.

He assumed he might have to pass for normal when he reached Japan, which is why he also had a nylon satchel folded into a tight little package and stuffed in his back
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pocket. The guns and spare clips could go into it when they arrived.

The Yidam, Coyote realized, would present a problem even in the weirder districts of Japan. Four Vietnam-vintage flak jackets had been cut apart and sewn together to provide the four-armed alien with body protection. He wore yak-skin boots that had been specially crafted to fit his clawed feet, and the talons poked through the ends of them like decorations. His arms, legs and head remained bare, but their dark color would help conceal him.

Concealing the long rifle the Yidam carried on his upper right arm—as if he were a country squire ready for a day of quail hunting—would be something else entirely.
I
could break that down with a hacksaw, and I’d still not
be able to conceal it.
Taller than Coyote by a clean foot, it had a bore he could have plugged with his thumb. From the shells distributed in the bandolier slung across the Yidam’s torso, Coyote knew the weapon wasn’t a shotgun, despite the large barrel diameter.

“Loaded for bear, aren’t we?”

The Yidam smiled, and Mong patted the gun the alien carried affectionately. “This is an old surplus weapon we thought to use against tanks if they ever worked through our shielding.”

Coyote took another look at the weapon, then nodded.

” 14.5mm Protivotankovoe Ruzh’yo obr 1941 g PTRS. The Soviets manufactured those to stop German tanks. Shoots a 14.5mm tungsten-cored, armor-piercing incendiary round that it gets from a five-round clip. Semiautomatic fire, hellish recoil.” He pointed to a polished wooden grip halfway up the barrel. “You’re supposed to have a bipod there, but I guess you don’t need it.”

The Yidam shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

Coyote chuckled lightly, then frowned. “The 14.5mm round was good in its day, but any armor we’re likely to run into has benefited from 60 years of technological development.”

“I am not concerned about armor, just whatever sort of creature your former master can dredge up.”

“Besides,” added Mong, “these shells are new. They have even been modified to work better.” When Coyote
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gave him a quizzical look, he offered one word. “Teflon.”

That moment of levity faded as Coyote looked along the torchlit causeway leading to the east gate. He could see people in all of the alcoves as usual, but fluid stains rendered in black by the torchlight caught his attention.

Mong said he’d lost people and would lose more.
Staring at the silent evidence of the evil Fiddleback could do with a stray thought, Coyote set himself.

“Mong, thank you for what you have given me in the way of wisdom and training.”

“Kyi-can, we who know of the Dark Ones have a responsibility to fulfill. You repay me by fighting for the future.”

Coyote reached out and squeezed the monk’s shoulder. “My predecessor asked those he helped to ‘pay forward,’ not back. We will pay forward, with interest.”

The Yidam brandished his tank-killing rifle, “It is time to return to the Dark Ones that which they have sown.”

Mong nodded. “Our prayers are with you.”

The Yidam led Coyote off along the causeway. “When I probed your mind, I sawthat Crowley had shown you one of the transportational devices available for travel between the dimensions. We will walk to a place where one of these is located and move from there, because the 3500-mile hiketo Japan would still take a while, even with shortcuts through other dimensions. This particular site is little used because it is located in a pastoral dimension with little or no value to the Dark Lords.”

“I trust your judgment.”

The two of them came to the massive stone gate and stopped before it. Coyote closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled a deep breath to the count of five. He forced his heart to slow and he cleared his mind. Around him, he heard the pitch and tenor of the chanting shift, then felt an unseen pressure on his back.

He stepped forward and reached out with his mind. He sensed the Yidam’s passage and slipped in behind him to speed his transit to their target destination. Things went smoothly for a dozen steps, then the ground seemed to lurch upward, driving his knees toward his chest. Coyote found himself racing forward with the exaggerated steps
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of someone running on a trampoline, then the terrain stiffened beneath his feet and he fell to the ground.

He felt grasses and opened his eyes to a bizarre nightscape. He felt hands on his shoulders lifting him up and thought it was the Yidam, but he came into view off toCoyote’s right. Coyote turned his head and sawCrowley’s silhouette, then nodded to his friend and was released.

”What are you doing here?” he whispered.

Crowley crouched between him and the Yidam. “I assumed, after the display an hour ago, that you would be coming out.”

“Display?” Coyote likewise crouched and let the long summer grasses in the meadow hide him.

“The net Fiddleback used to locate you shocked me out of one of the more pleasant social situations I’ve been in recently. There I was, reading Janine Fonda’s palm and suddenly I’m hit with a piece of Fiddleback’s brainblast. I started babbling uncontrollably for the time it took for him to shred Kanggenpo’s defenses, then I stopped when he focused on you.” Crowley laughed wryly, the sound seeming odd coming from a shadow. “Turned out for the best, though, because Ms. Fonda recognized the drivel I started spouting about Grays and how they’ve taken over the planet. Speaking of which, who is Gunga Din and what is that peashooter he’s carrying?”

“Meet Kanggenpo’s Yidam. He’s on ourside.”

The Yidam offered Crowley his lower right hand, and the man took it. “I am the Yidam. I also used to crew with the so-called Grays.”

“Lovely.” Crowley shook his head. “Janine asked if I was a disciple of Arrigo El-Leichter, too, and mentioned she’d gone to some seminars he gave at the Galactic Brotherhood Institute in Kimpunshima. I did a quick check and realized that Arrigo must be another of Fiddleback’s pets, and he runs a training facility. It also seems he has a working dimensional transport device in his facility there. Assuming you’d come out here, I arrived ahead of you, and that’s when I found
that.”