Fiddleback Trilogy 2 - Evil Ascending Read online

  Sin picked her left hand up and kissed her palm. "Ah, but smoking is bad for you. You'll have to get plenty of exercise to counteract those evil effects."

  Erika smiled at him and laughed lightly. "That could become a deliriously wonderful cycle, you know." She yawned.

  "My thoughts exactly." Sin suppressed his own yawn. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

  Erika nodded and stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. "Tired but very, very happy." She slid down beside him and pulled the sheet up to her waist. Doubling the pillow over, she lay on her left side and smiled at him. "An hour or two of shut-eye, then see what we can do to raise the price of Phillip Morris stock, shall we?"

  Sin reached down and pulled the sheet up to her shoulder. He kissed her on the tip of her pert nose, then slowly slipped out of bed. "I'm going to hit the shower for a second here, to cool off. Be back before you know it."

  As he stood up she said, "Wait."

  "What?"

  She held her right hand out, thumb erect, as if she were an artist trying to judge relative sizes of objects in a painting. "Just wanted to memorize you so I get you right in this dream I'm planning."

  "Oh?"

  "It will be wonderful." She yawned and stretched. "Wake me when you get back, and I'll show you all about it." She closed her eyes and feigned sleep, then winked at him and snuggled beneath the sheet.

  Weaving slightly unsteadily for his first step, Sin stumbled to the bathroom and shut the door before he flicked the light on. Its brightness stung his eyes, but he shielded them with his left hand, then leaned heavily against the sink. Lowering his hand, he looked up at his reflection and shook his head.

  I'm sure Coyote is going to love your spending this much time cloistered with Erika. He smiled as he remembered what she looked like in the electric-blue dress currently decorating his living-room floor. If he saw her in that dress, he'd understand. He might not like it, but he'd understand.

  He opened the shower stall's smoky-glass door and stepped in. He set the water on medium and pointed the nozzle toward the wall. As the door snapped shut behind him, he yanked up on the water control handle and started a stinging spray from the shower head. He let it warm up and swung the nozzle in line with his head.

  Washing down over him, the water felt as wonderful as his time at the Kimpunshima party did. With Erika on his arm, no one paid too much attention to him. This gave him the freedom to listen a lot, and he realized that Kimpunshima had not changed too much since he had lived in Japan. It was still the bastion of ethnocentric fools who gloried in the high salaries their companies paid them to live in Japan, without realizing that, contrary to their self-images, they were not at the top of the food chain.

  What had surprised him was the number, and relative importance, of the Japanese at the party. Most had been identified to him as middle- to upper-level employees with different Japanese corporations. It struck him that the majority of them were American- or European-born or raised and had been selected for ease of interface with the Kimpunshima residents. Still, Sin had been told one person, a handsome young man, was Ryuhito, the emperor's grandson, which would have been a great departure from the sort of interaction he had seen in the past.

  The other odd thing he noticed was a recurring topic of conversation. He had been used to fads of all types traveling like diseases through the Kimpunshima population when he had lived in Japan. At one point, for a month he preferred to forget entirely, it seemed like every European had a Hula Hoop grafted to his middle. Paleo-retro parties built on the 1950s theme predominated the social schedule at the time. He remembered one costume party in which people were required to come as their favorite old television character—and they had to dress in shades of black and white with gray makeup to keep the look genuine. He recalled a nasty fight when Ethel Mertz found Fred with Rowdy Yates and Dale Evans, but in general, it had been harmless.

  The difference he found at the party was that people almost seemed to be proselytizing about Arrigo and Michelle El-Leichter and the Galbro training center they had. At first he thought they ran some sort of business-skill improvement center, but the sense he got from folks was that it was something more. They kept hinting at hidden knowledge, which means they're being conned. One of the things old Horatio might not have dreamt of is that there are folks who are out to separate anyone and everyone from their money.

  Sin heard the bathroom door open and close. "Decide to join me?"

  The shower-stall door swung open. Sin found himself staring down the bore of his own Beretta 9mm pistol. The small, dark-haired Japanese man holding the gun eased the hammer back, then leaned against the wash stand. "It is illegal to possess one of these in Japan, Mr. MacNeal."

  "Then I'd hide it while you have the chance, Nagashita." Sin shut the water off. "I won't tell."

  The Internal Defense Cadre colonel shook his head. "I could shoot you now, you know. I could tell my superiors that you jumped me and that I had to defend myself."

  "They'd never believe you. They know you'd kill me with your bare hands just for the pleasure of it." Sin glanced at the towel on the rack near the shower. "May I?"

  Nagashita nodded and dropped the gun's aiming point to his legs. "I do want you alive, but walking is optional."

  Easy, Sin. This is no time to fool around. He reached for the towel slowly as he looked at the IDC officer. The man wore clothing associated by countless movies with ninja warriors. While his uniform looked traditional, Sin could tell from the tightness of the fabric across Nagashita's chest that he wore body armor beneath it. His bracers and greaves appeared to be formed from Kevlar, and Sin did not doubt that the shuriken on the weapon harness were ceramic instead of metal. A mini-Uzi filled the holster on Nagashita's right thigh, while the more traditional katana had been slung on his back with its hilt protruding just above his left shoulder.

  "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Sin finished drying himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist. "You can't still be angry about missing me three years ago, can you? I thought you a much better loser than that."

  Nagashita's dark eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He gently let the hammer on the Beretta fall, then dangled the gun from his index finger and extended it to Sin. "That has not been forgotten, but I am merely an instrument of my master's will. My own satisfaction means nothing in the face of his wishes."

  Sin took the gun and popped the clip out. Pulling the slide back, he popped the single-chambered round out and caught it before it hit the floor. He replaced it in the clip, but did not return the clip to the gun. "What do you want, Nagashita?"

  The IDC man opened the bathroom door. "Your living room, now."

  Sin walked out of the bathroom and in the light of the bedside lamp saw that wet, rumpled sheets and cigarette ash were the only evidence that Erika had ever been there. He tossed the gun and clip on the bed, then reached for the pants he had draped over a chair.

  Nagashita shoved him from behind. "He just asked me to deliver you, nendo. He said nothing about having you dress."

  Snarling soundlessly, Sin walked to the bedroom doorway and saw six IDC ninja stationed around the room. Two stood at the doorway through which he passed and another two stood beside the main door. The last two bracketed the chair that had been pulled into the middle of the living-room floor.

  The only light came from the bedroom and filtered out and around Sin's shadow. Moving forward and to the side let a tantalizingly brief flash of light wash over the old man sitting in the chair, then Nagashita's black outline covered him. No, it's not possible.

  The voice coming from the chair sounded to Sin to be far too strong for the frail body he had seen. "Forgive me, Mr. MacNeal, but the logistics of having you visit me are more fraught with danger than the reverse. Also, please excuse the fact that you will never see Ms. Conklin again in Japan. Her visitation and work permits have been revoked. It is for her safety."

  Sin shook his head, scatte
ring droplets of water around the room. "I don't understand."

  The little man's silhouette held up its right hand and rubbed thumb against forefingers until a droplet of water evaporated. "This evening you attended a party that included among its number my grandson. Your presence was brought to Colonel Nagashita's attention, and he immediately requested the honor of killing you. You caused him much embarrassment three years ago and, at that time, he requested leave of me to kill himself."

  Sin glanced back over his shoulder at Nagashita. "He always was a traditionalist."

  "As am I, Mr. MacNeal, yet I am a pragmatist as well. Colonel Nagashita was too valuable to me then to let him die, and you are too valuable to me now to let him kill you." His hand returned to his lap. "I need your services."

  "I am flattered, but I already have an employer."

  "I know. I believe he would find my mission and whatever he has charged you with coincide in most important areas. After all, Michael Loring appeared to head up Lorica Industries after the former CEO, Nerys Loring, died amid a strange atmospheric disturbance. I know you are here in connection with that, and I know that storm has been linked with the appearance of a monstrous creature in Phoenix itself."

  The American laughed. "I am afraid I find it easier to believe Godzilla will rampage through Tokyo tonight than I do to believe a monster threatened Phoenix."

  "But if you thought Godzilla or something like it did threaten Phoenix or Tokyo or your family, you would do what you could to prevent it, would you not?"

  Sin slowly nodded. "I would."

  "And thus I am doing." The old man's head came up. "You have heard of Arrigo and Michelle El-Leichter?"

  Sin nodded again. "Yes. They live in Kimpunshima and appear to have some sort of training institute set up there."

  "I believe they exercise an undue influence on my grandson."

  "Exile them, just like you did Erika." Sin's response came a bit hot, and Nagashita hissed behind him. "Forgive my rudeness, but it seems like a viable solution."

  The old man remained silent for a moment, then spoke again in a lower voice. "I cannot. They have powerful friends who protect them. Exiling my grandson will do no good. He must be shown that they are frauds and stupid so that he can make up his own mind to abandon them. To do that I need someone inside their organization who can reach him and sow doubt in his mind. You are an American, and Colonel Nagashita's disgust with you is well known. I could not manufacture a better agent to be inserted into their school."

  "I understand your reasoning, but why do you need your grandson turned away from them? Can't you just explain things to him?"

  "There are two facts of life in Japan for the Imperial family, Mr. MacNeal. The first is that an industrial shogunate has imposed itself and has, realistically, stripped away the last of the power the emperor ever had. This is especially frustrating for a virile young man who wants to shape the future of his nation. Because of his blood, he cannot enter industry and exercise power, yet because of his blood, he is the best choice to lead his nation."

  The little man's voice picked up new power as he continued. "The second fact, and it is a fact, is one of history. My father renounced his divinity as part of the settlement of the Great Pacific War. He paid that price to preserve his nation and its identity. Christians note their Jesus gave his life for his people. In the same way, my father made a supreme sacrifice. However, his renunciation of divinity does not change the fact that blood of gods runs in our veins.

  "You might think that curious, Mr. MacNeal, a relic of a past time, a myth. It is not. It is fact and, at once, both wonderful and terrible. The power that blood confers on the Imperial family is incalculable and, were it misused, could be disastrous."

  An uneasy shiver ran down Sin's spine. Blood of the gods? This is as crazy as giant spiders invading Phoenix, yet I find myself believing him. "You think Arrigo El-Leichter is trying to use your grandson and his divine blood in some way that will hurt Japan?"

  "Not just Japan, but the world." The man's hands came together into a black knot. "The El-Leichters are based in your Phoenix and operated out of Hawaii until indicted in an illegal phone credit-card scheme. They have many followers who are influential throughout the world. They claim connection with a brotherhood of space travelers, and we have no way of knowing how much of what they say is true."

  Something told Sin that no matter how bizarre this sounded, the El-Leichters were just as dangerous as the people Coyote had sent him to Japan to find. He distrusted any conclusion based on next to no information, but he'd also learned to trust his hunches. "All right, you want me to infiltrate the El-Leichter institution and dissuade your grandson from following them. I'll do it, but on two conditions."

  "You will not find me ungrateful if you succeed, Mr. MacNeal."

  "I believe you. First, I want Nagashita kept away from me and my friends. I need running room, and I don't need a shadow right now. If I need him, I'll call him."

  The man in shadows nodded. "Done."

  "Second, when this is over, I'll need help finishing off the job my boss gave me to do. I would like your help in that."

  "This you will have, if you save my grandson."

  "I'll do my best." Sin nodded solemnly. "What if that isn't good enough?"

  The little man remained immobile for a second, then his head nodded forward. "Colonel Nagashita informed me you have a gun. I assume you know how to use it."

  "You want me to kill your grandson?"

  "I do not desire his death, but it would be better to mourn at his funeral than to preside over the destruction of the world."

  Lost in his own little world, Mickey pushed a stamped tin car along the sidewalk in front of the box in which his family lived. The rear wheel supports scraped along the ground and left wavy white lines on the concrete. The wheels had long ago vanished, but Mickey didn't mind. In that vehicle, he saw himself and his sister and father and Rajani all driving off to a place where they could be happy.

  He did not hear the man walk up, but that came less because of his hearing loss from repeated ear infections than it did from the man's stealthy nature. Instead, Mickey felt his presence and looked up. The man's bald head eclipsed the sun, giving him a nimbus halo. Despite having to look up at the man and his having such a startling silhouette, Mickey saw he was small. Having met Rajani, though, he did not mistake a tiny physique for powerlessness.

  "Yii."

  "Yes, hello to you, too." The man's voice came softly, barely a whisper, yet Mickey heard it clearly above the roar of the crane piling more apartments onto the building. «How are you today, Mickey?»

  «You can brain-talk!» Mickey smiled openly, for a half-second forgetting how such things had spawned revulsion and ridicule by others.

  «I can indeed.» The man squatted down, and the sun briefly blinded Mickey. Reaching out, the man took Mickey's lower jaw in his hand. Mickey pulled away, but the man caught him again. «I will not harm you, Mickey. I have come to help you.»

  The little boy blinked with surprise. "Hela?"

  "Help, yes." The man's dark eyes seemed to glow with a light blue outline for a moment, and Mickey felt the flesh of his face and lips tingle. That ticklish sensation traced along the crack in his upper palate and on back through his sinuses. It contracted and shot off out of both ears. "How could they have let you go for this long? This should have been repaired before you were out of diapers."

  Mickey stared at him with innocent eyes. "Hela?"

  The little man nodded solemnly and stood. "Yes, I will help you. I will make you whole." He extended his hand to Mickey. "Come with me."

  Mickey shot a glance back over his shoulder at the door of his house. "Orfey."

  "Give your sister not another thought, my child. You know she would do anything she could to see you made well." The man's voice surrounded him like one of his sister's hugs. «This is your chance to become what she wants you to be, and you're giving her back her life.»

  «But, I
should say good-bye.»

  "When you return you can say hello," the man said in a voice so compassionate that Mickey missed the lie in his words. "Come with me."

  Mickey stood and took the man's hand. The fact that his flesh felt cool but dry did not strike Mickey as unusual. Smiling his broken smile, he walked off with the small man and after 10 paces they had left Flagstaff worlds behind.

  Rajani almost refused the ride from the ramshackle pickup truck that slowed and pulled off the road in a dust cloud. Most of the vehicles she'd seen in a similar condition had been burned-out hulks left beside I-17, and some of those had more parts than the truck stopping for her. Big and boxy, it was missing the right front wheel-well panel, and the rusty front bumper hung lopsided like a madman's grin. The grill might once have been a chromed grid, but enough pieces of it had vanished over the years to make it look like a crossword puzzle template.