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Authors: Darren Shan,Darren Shan

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BOOK: Procession of the Dead
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At that point the vision ended. My final sight was of the boy, skulking through the menacing alleys of the city he would one day conquer. He was filthy, badly dressed, hair long and unkempt, lips bared in a perpetual snarl. The ceremony had terrified him, but he was resilient and hungry, and now that he was free again, his hunger took precedence. Already forgetting the blind men and their arcane rites, he made his way through the city, the only world he had ever known, and looked for a place to feast.

My arm was being tugged. Blinking dumbly, I realized The Cardinal was hauling me away from the blind men. He was saying something but I couldn’t hear. I glanced one last time at the makers of the puppets, then shook my head and made myself focus on the real world.

“… Hell happened to you?” The Cardinal barked.

“They… it… how long was I out?” I gasped.

“A few seconds. They clasped your shoulders and began murmuring. You went stiff. I grabbed you but you didn’t respond. What happened? They’ve never done anything like that before.” He was shaken. He hadn’t expected to lose control like this, not on his own turf.

“I want to get out of here,” I muttered.

Silently he led the way to the short flight of stairs and soon we were back in the deserted basement of Party Central. “Well?” he snapped impatiently.

I thought about how he’d react if he learned he was a tool, a manipulated pawn of the blind priests—the
villacs
—a servant whose only function was to help them preserve their hold on the city. Figuring he wouldn’t take the news kindly, I opted not to enlighten him—I didn’t want him exploding into a rage.

“I saw nothing,” I said. “Just lights. A small electric shock coursed through me. I think they were checking me over, examining me.”

He squinted and scratched his chin. I don’t think he believed me but he didn’t push for more information. I think he was frightened of what he might discover. “Well,” he grunted, “do you believe me now? Were they proof that I’m telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“You believe?”

“Yes.” I hesitated. “But I still want to know what my role in this is. You’ve talked a lot about yourself but there hasn’t been much about me. Why am I different from the other Ayuamarcans? Why did my cuts heal? Why—”

“Soon, Mr. Raimi,” he interrupted. “This isn’t the place for revelations. Let’s return to the heights, shall we?”

We got back in the elevator and said nothing as we ascended. We hit the fifteenth floor and didn’t slow. I glanced at the buttons and frowned. The Cardinal caught my glance and smiled. “I fancy some fresh air.”

We came to the top floor and stopped. The Cardinal stepped out and led the way to a small flight of stairs leading up. Within minutes we were on the roof of Party Central, gazing down on the city. The wind was sharp as it whistled past my ears. I moved to the edge and peered down. It was a long drop into nothingness. The Cardinal clapped my back and I nearly toppled over. He laughed and shied away before I could hit him.

“Over here,” he said, walking to a large steel outcropping which housed the machinery for the elevators. There were a couple of chairs set in the snug shelter of the steel. “I put everything I had into building this empire,” The Cardinal said as he sat down. “I sacrificed all other desires in my quest for control. The only time I sought company was with Conchita.” He smiled sadly. “I really fucked that up. I wanted somebody who’d love me, who could teach
me
to love. When I was making her, I gave her some extra-special qualities. I can do that. For instance, when I made Paucar Wami, I decided he should be stronger and faster than any ordinary human. I said he should never lose his strength or agility. He’s almost as old as I am, yet he doesn’t even look forty. My creations become what I describe. I can give them superhuman powers if I wish.

“Wami’s one of my most fascinating creations,” he said. “Ayuamarcans can only survive a week outside the city. After that they come apart. Except Paucar Wami. When I created him, I invested him with the ability to survive in the outside world. He’s also the only fertile Ayuamarcan. The rest of you are barren. Wami’s the only one who can procreate. I wanted to test my powers, to probe my limits. Wami seemed like the best one to experiment with.”

I wondered what the eavesdropping serial killer was making of this. Would he be incredulous? Dismayed? Tickled pink?

“We can only survive outside the city for a week,” I muttered. “So, if I’d stayed away a few days longer…”

“No more Capac Raimi,” he smiled.

“What about Conchita?” I asked.

His smile faded. “She hasn’t left yet,” he sighed. “When she does, her days are numbered.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it does,” he snapped. “But I’d rather she die happy than suffer here for the rest of her life. I forgot about the temporal limit when you were last here. If I’d remembered, I wouldn’t have been so taken aback by your threat. I’d probably have eliminated you. Be thankful that I’m prone to the occasional error, Mr. Raimi, or your life would have ended then.

“As I was saying, I made Conchita warm, loving and sensitive, beautiful, kind, compassionate. The last thing I thought before falling asleep was that she should grow old gracefully. My exact phrase was, ‘I want her to look younger with every passing year.’ ”

He shook his head, eyes downcast. “That disastrous quest for love aside, I used all of my other creations to further my position. Whenever standard tactics failed—when bribery, blackmail and violence weren’t enough—I sent one of my dream people in. They’ve served me well, as loyal, smart and self-sacrificing as I’ve needed them to be. They never get out of control and turn on me because I program them not to.”


I
turned on you,” I growled.

“But it all meant nothing without a successor,” he said, ignoring me. “I knew I couldn’t do all that I wanted in the time allotted. Even if I’d been able to create more Ayuamarcans, it wouldn’t have been enough. I want my empire to last. I want my descendant to rule all, forever. I want what the Egyptians, Romans and Greeks had, only Inever want my empire to crumble and fall. That’s my dream, Mr.Raimi.

“It was clear that no
real
person could succeed me. No matter how strong a person is, they’ll always die, and weak men have a habit of following in the footsteps of the strong. It had to be one of my creations, a man with the power to control and sustain the fires of my dream. So I made the first Inti Maimi. He was powerful, strong and intelligent, no scruples or feelings. A robot who’d follow my plans to the last dot, who’d destroy and conquer all.”

The Cardinal sneered. “The trouble was, a robot can only follow orders, not scheme by himself. My heir will need to change with the times, react to the new world he helps create. The first Inti Maimi couldn’t do that. He would have sunk like a stone without my hand to guide him. When I realized that, I sent him back to his grave and plotted again.

“The second Inti Maimi—the one you knew as Y Tse Lapotaire—was also a failure, though his flaws were slower in coming to the surface. He was smarter than the first, less robotic. The first knew about my Ayuamarcan project and his role in my plans. The second didn’t. I wanted him to have a degree of freedom, a sense of individuality. That’s where I made my mistake. I made him
too
free-spirited. When he realized I had his future mapped out, and he wasn’t as free as he thought, he rebelled and thwarted my plans by turning himself into a fool.

“I kept him on for a long time, in the hope that one day he’d come to his senses and return to the fold. I liked the second Inti Maimi—of all my creations, he was the closest I ever had to a son. But he never repented and, when I created you and saw how fine you were, I decided it was time to let him go.”

“Tell me about myself,” I said coldly. It was sickening to find out I was no more than a puppet, controlled by strings, manipulated at every turn. Even if I was meant to be The Cardinal’s successor, I wasn’t sure I wanted it now. Why carry on in a role not of my own making?

“You’re different from the Inti Maimis,” he said. “I brought them in at the top, as natural heirs. That was a mistake. I introduced them to the intricacies of my world too soon. That’s why the second one rebelled—he saw that he was no more than the sum of my desires, that he acted on my say-so, in line with my wishes. He felt like he had no say in his future, that he wasn’t truly real. I realized there was no point handing the world to my heir, as nobody can appreciate a prize that comes too easily. I needed someone who had to work for it.

“This time I made a man who started with nothing. I made you younger than the Inti Maimis, brash, imaginative and unpredictable. I gave you the desire to be a gangster, but also the freedom to deny that desire. That’s why I granted you the ability to gradually recall your past, so that you had a sense of history, so that you knew you were not tied to your destiny. When you understood that you started life as a different person, you could have returned to that life. You didn’t have to come back here. You had a choice—Capac Raimi or Martin Robinson.”

“It wasn’t much of a choice,” I scowled. “I’d have died if I stayed in Sonas.”

“But you didn’t know that then,” The Cardinal said. “As far as you were aware, you were free to choose. And you chose to return. You chose Capac Raimi. You chose
me
.” He pointed a finger at me. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re my slave, my puppet. You’re not. I gave you life, yes, but you came here today of your own accord. I didn’t summon you. I have no more influence over you than a parent has over a child.”

“Bullshit,” I spat. “You’ve been there every step of the way. You set me up in the company, gave Adrian to me because you thought I needed a friend, removed him and Y Tse to arouse my suspicions and lead me to question our relationship. You arranged my meetings with Ama and Conchita, planted the Ayuamarca file where Ama could find it, knowing she’d show it to me. You let me escape from the city and made sure I returned to Sonas, knowing I’d have to come back here for answers. That was all your doing, wasn’t it?”

“No,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t. That’s why you are special. You did virtually all of it yourself. I brought you into the company, yes, but
you
made your own way from that point on. I meant for you to meet Ama—I made her for you, and she will be a great help in the years ahead, as Leonora was of help to me—but not here in Party Central, on the stairs. You were never meant to meet Conchita—that was a twist I hadn’t imagined. Adrian had nothing to do with you—I made him for Sonja, who was having personal troubles and needed somebody to love.

“I never intended for Y Tse and Leonora to be your sponsors. Adrian and Y Tse’s disappearances weren’t related to you. I planted the Ayuamarca file, yes, but it was
your
decision to come looking for it and face me.
You
found the words to stay my hand when I fully intended to execute you—I thought you’d spun out of control. I was set to wipe you out and begin again, but you persuaded me not to.

“To be honest, Mr. Raimi, you’re something of a mystery to me. I didn’t mean for this day of reckoning to arrive so soon. I thought I’d have years to prepare for this, that you’d grow into your role slowly, feeling your way along, climbing the rungs one at a time. I hadn’t expected to have this conversation for at least another eight or nine years, when you were experienced and established, ready to meet me on equal, less hysterical terms.”

He scratched his scalp and shivered as a gust of wind swept around a corner. “That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You’re unpredictable. You’ve surprised me since the beginning. You cut corners and make leaps forward. You’re instinctive, original, innovative. I saw your despondency when you learned of your origins but believe me, you’re no pawn of mine. You’ve forged your own path and thrown any carefully laid plans I had for you into disarray. You’re here because you want what I want—the world. But you want it for your own reasons, not mine. You have free will like the second Inti Maimi, but whereas he turned away from my empire, you have embraced it.”

I thought about that. “You really didn’t set me up with Leonora, Y Tse and the others?” I asked. “It was coincidence? You had nothing to do with any of them?”

“Only with Ama Situwa. I programmed you to love her. In that respect you’re helpless. You love her now and always will, even when she’s gone. Apart from that, and the desire to be a gangster with your
uncle
, every other relationship you have formed, every step you’ve taken, every goal you’ve set, every route you’ve followed has been of your own making. I created your body but your mind is wholly your own.”

My body…

“What about my regenerative powers? Are they common to all Ayuamarcans?”

He shook his head. “That quality is yours alone. The others suffer, ache and die like normal humans. They need not—I have the power to spare them—but I like to keep my creations as mortal as possible.

“I told you I want my empire to last. That has always been an impossibility. Strong men die and their legacies unravel. In the end, everything falls apart and only memories are left. Death has been the constant leveler of kingdoms and empires. It has always limited the influence of great men. Until now. I believe I’ve found a way to cheat death. I might be wrong but I think it will work.”

“What are you getting at?” I asked suspiciously.

“When I made you, Mr. Raimi—when I described the type of man I wanted—I wished for a man who couldn’t be destroyed by human hands, who could only be undone by me. I created a man who could recover from any wound, even a fatal one. A man who’d age for a decade, then remain that age forever, who couldn’t be scarred, who’d never sicken, who’d be impervious to the effects of time. A man who’d never die. A man who could live forever.”

He sank back in his chair and smiled, the smile of a master magician revealing his final, deepest secret. “You’re immortal, Mr. Raimi.”

Neither of us uttered a word for about an hour. We sat facing but not looking at each other. My head was spinning, the thought of eternity searing the cells of my brain. I’d never considered this. I’d planned to make as much of myself as possible in the time I was allowed. I’d hoped for long years, several decades if I was lucky. But
eternity

BOOK: Procession of the Dead
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