Vampire Hunter D Volume 13: Twin-Shadowed Knight Parts 1 and 2 (19 page)

Was that the reason for his success?

But in return, D's face was horribly melted, and his coat and traveler's hat still had smoke and white flames coming from them. The blade of his sword was ruined.

“Even if I didn't do anything to help you, your own regenerative abilities could handle burns like these. But you'll have to replace your clothes and your sword, you know. So, what do you wanna do?”

“Don't worry about that,” another D called up from the ground. Needless to say, it was the fake one. “Have you forgotten who this facility was built for? Come with me. No parent would want to leave his newborn child to lead a deprived existence, after all.”

A few minutes later, the fake D had guided them through a door, and beyond it lay thousands or even tens of thousands of splendid garments—a gorgeous palette that filled the vast hall completely. In the next room, D chose a longsword from the weapons that covered all the walls. Its elegant curve, the sturdy workmanship of its hilt and sheath—everything was exactly the same as his accustomed blade.

-

II

-

The next thing they had to do was to pay a call on the medical center—the two Ds weren't the only ones who'd taken a direct hit from those high-energy waves. Mia and Neer both lay on beds with treatment systems that were barely operational. Though Mia had taken cover behind the throne, sticking her face out had given it a thorough exposure to the light energy, which left it with a condition resembling a sunburn.

“Looks like the system's not fully operational,” the fake D said, giving the sputtering treatment equipment a kick. Its alloy body dented.

“So it won't be possible to treat them for the light energy. They'll need to be hospitalized in the Capital. To make matters worse,” he continued, throwing a look that could be described as both cold and sympathetic to the groaning Neer on the distant bed, “he's too far gone. I looked at his scans, and both his organs and his brain are lousy with tumors. You know, if we'd put him down earlier, he might've been spared all this pain.”

His remarks were directed at D.

In reply to that, D said merely, “It's Muma.”

That silenced the fake D. Then he asked, “Does he know about it?”

“Back in the light, he mentioned it.”

The eyes of the two Ds met. Astonishingly enough, the melted flesh on their faces had almost been fully repaired, and their hair was back to normal. The metabolic functions of these two must've had an almost infinite amount of energy to draw upon.

Putting his hands together, the fake D cried, “Yahoo! In that case, we'd better do this while he's still among the living. Let's hurry up and ask him.”

But he knew that was impossible. Neer was rocked by spasms, and the words that came from his mouth were the senseless gibbering of a madman.

“His mental stabilizers are shot. This is hopeless.”

As the fake D folded his arms, D extended his left hand in front of him. He put the palm of that hand against Neer's forehead. Five seconds passed . . . Ten . . . And then Neer's tightly shut lids opened wide. Seeing that a light of unmistakable sanity shone in them, the fake D groaned, “Well, I'll be damned.”

“This . . . is the medical center . . . isn't it?” Neer inquired after looking all around.

“That's right,” said D. He'd already taken his hand away.

“Come to mention it, I have this feeling . . . like I had a long dream . . . or something. Are you . . . treating me?”

“No, but listen to me. You're going to die soon.”

“Hey!” the fake D exclaimed, his eyes bulging.

Mia sat up at that, too.

“Is that so? I suppose I am . . . I have lived . . . too long.”

“Where is Muma?” D asked, cutting him off.

“Muma?” Neer said, something murky spreading through his eyes.

“Yes, Muma.”

“Muma . . . Muma . . . What in the world . . .”

Suddenly an intense hue of terror took possession of the aged cyborg's face.

“Muma—ah, yes! Muma!” the old man exclaimed.

From the vicinity of his chest there came a little sound, like a motor spinning out of control.

“His artificial heart just went haywire,” D's left hand muttered.

“What is Muma?” D continued.

“It's . . . It's . . . something I built.”

“What?” the fake D cried, staring at the old man.

“The great one . . . had the initial idea . . . and I studied the feasibility of it. And then . . . I had complete authority . . . until it was built.”

“What is it? Is it some kind of machine?” the fake D interrupted.

“No . . .”

“Is it a place, then?”

Neer shook his head from side to side. At the same time, spasms rattled through every inch of his body.

“This ain't good. He's almost in his death throes.”

As the Hunter's left hand said, certain death was catching up with the cyborg after five thousand long years. His eyes lost their sparkle, and his expression became that of a puppet.

The two Ds turned around.

Mia stood there. Walking over to the aged cyborg as if she didn't even see the other two, she squatted down by the old man's head and took his half-melted hand between both of hers.

“Hey!” the fake D called to her, but his tone wasn't especially forceful.

“In addition to fortunetelling, my mother served as a priestess at funerals. Her job was to see the dying off,” Mia said quietly. “She taught me how to do the same. I couldn't help but hate the idea of watching people die for a living, but then I found this person who'd collapsed out in the woods and there wasn't time for me to go get anyone else. The person died in my arms. At that point, I finally got the feeling I understood what the job was all about. No one wants to die alone. I realized that being with someone when their time comes isn't a job, it's my duty as a human being.”

White beads had formed on the brow of the aged cyborg. Circulatory fluid was probably seeping through his skin due to mechanical failures. Mia wiped them away.

“Go gently,” she said as if addressing the old man. Or D. Or the fake D. Or something that wasn't here now, but which intently watched over everything. “No one is going to ask you anything. You needn't speak. Go gently.”

Neer's closed eyelids twitched a little. Tears spilled from them.

“Muma . . . When you leave here . . . go north. My niece Menda . . . should be there . . .”

And having said that, he started to take a breath and stopped in the middle of it. The air caught in his throat, and he wheezed. He clutched at Mia's fingers. A hint of pain passed across the girl's face. But that was it. The ancient hand let go of Mia's fingers, and then rolled off the edge of the bed.

Mia slowly lowered her head.

After a short time, D asked, “Have you seen him off?”

“Yes.”

“That old-timer was a lucky man,” the fake D said enviously. “The way things were going, his rusted old body would've dropped somewhere in this underworld and been a meal for the monsters, but instead he got sent off to the next life by a sweet young thing.”

“Don't put it that way!” Mia cried, glaring at him. Something glittered in her eyes.

“Oh, my apologies.”

“You needn't apologize to me. I'd appreciate it if you'd show some respect for the feelings of the departed, however.”

The fake D was at a loss for words.

“How are you feeling?” D asked.

“Huh?”

“How's your condition? Your face was burned.”

“I'm okay, really. I took medicine that helps wards off energy, too.”

“Isn't your finger broken?”

“It's—” Mia began, lightly taking hold of her right index finger. That alone made her groan. It seemed to be broken from the third joint up.

D took her finger gently in his left hand.

“Oh!” she gasped in surprise, but that soon gave way to fresh bewilderment. The pain had left her completely.

“Consider yourself lucky,” the left hand said boastfully.

“Well, time to get down to the main event,” the fake D said somewhat awkwardly. “Thanks to babycakes here—”

“The name is Mia.”

“Thanks to Mia baby, it looks like the location of the treasure will finally be learned. North it is, my other self!” he called to D. He was positively buoyant. If that was his true character, D would have to be a huge liar putting on a great show.

“Menda to the north,” D muttered.

“Is that enough for you to go on?” Mia asked.

“No problem. While you're headed there, you'll run into people coming this way. You can ask them. After all, we're talking about this old-timer's niece. Anyone would know about someone like that.”

D turned around without saying a word.

“Hey! Wait a second. That was all my idea. I'm going with you!”

As the fake D started after the Hunter, he changed direction.

“No, you're not. I'm going with him,” the girl said.

“Come with me back to the surface,” D said, having halted but still facing forward. “Then you should go back to the village. And forget about everything else.”

“Yeah, you do that,” the fake chimed in. In this regard, the two Ds were in complete agreement.

“I don't want to.”

“There's nothing more you can do. You'd only get in the way.”

“I can divine things.”

“This is no job for some penny-ante bone tosser from the sticks. Stay out of it. I don't know why your mother didn't teach you—”

Surely D had let this play out intentionally.

A sharp slap rang out, and Mia stared dazedly at the right hand she'd used to land the blow while the fake D held his cheek and grinned wryly.

“Sorry. But I won't have anyone insulting my mother,” the girl declared flatly.

As the fake D looked at her, his eyes had a chillingly malevolent glow, but it swiftly faded and he said, “No, I was at fault. Well, you just leave the rest to me. You're a lot more likely to get results that way. But I'll tell you one thing, baby.”

“It's Mia.”

“Okay, Mia baby. As you can see, he and I are one and the same. Never forget that.”

Mia turned to face D, looking head on at his handsome features. “Please take me with you.”

“I told you to go back to the village.”

“In that case, promise me something. That you'll avert the crisis the world faces even if I'm not there. Swear that the two of you won't go off and just fight for your own cause.”

“I'm under no obligation to promise you anything.”

“Then I'm going with you.”

“You'll be going as a complete stranger.”

Mia's breath was taken away—he'd accepted her instantly. It was the rule of the Frontier that everyone lived on their own.

“Understood. I won't be a nuisance to you at all. No matter what happens, just leave me be.”

“No talking to me, either.”

A stunned silence from the girl. Mia's blood froze and she wondered if the words hadn't come from an entirely different person.

“What did I tell you? I'm a hell of a lot kinder, aren't I?” the fake D said, his voice skimming vainly through her mind.

“Very well. But at least escort me as far as the exit.”

“There's nothing stopping you from following along if you like.”

“Okay,” she replied, but how she had to muster the energy to say that one word! Mia desperately fought back what was rising within her.

When the three of them reached the surface, it was evening. A fourth person—Kuentz—was draped across the back of D's cyborg steed. Mia was stupefied that the pair's horses had been tethered outside the entrance at some point, but the apparent culprit—the fake D—didn't say anything to her.

Mia got on the horse behind the fake D.

“Put your arms tight around my waist,” he told her.

“Okay.”

The begrudging manner in which the girl complied was hardly in character for her, where a spiteful remark would've been more in order. But she knew it wouldn't do any good.

“Tighter,” the fake D said, watching D out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay.”

“Let's go,” D said.

“Oh!” the fake D exclaimed as something went flying into the air from behind D and landed right in his lap. The slumbering Kuentz.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Entrusting him to the one who gets results,” D said without even turning to look.