Out of the Black (36 page)

"All of them, Savants, grunts, government moles, families, friends, the producers of their favorite television shows... gone."

"Like 'on vacation' gone?"

"Like 'haven't found all the pieces yet' gone." Issak didn't look up.

"Last I heard they had fifteen Savants, maybe seventy grunts and a handful of demons..."

"Now you've heard more."

"How long ago?"

"When isn't the question... what you want to ask is
why
."

"You really parcel out the info in small chunks when you're drinking, Issak."

"New alliances." Issak said as if providing the clue that linked it all together.

Dek waited again, got bored. "See? Come on, spill the beans."

Isaac closed his eyes, then blew out a long breath. "Berlioz, Gamma, Valenza, Nikko... gone."

That was a lot of beans. It had been so long since Dek had been afraid that he wasn't sure this was it. Cold static fled in waves across his skin. He seemed to shift slightly away from the world. Six clans couldn't be gone, that was over a hundred Savants, maybe thousands of grunts, and three or four Replicants like Dek and Roy. This was not possible. If this was indeed the end of the world, it had gotten off to a great start. Dek did the quick math. Almost a quarter of the clans were gone. How could he not have known? Ivo and Roy were only a small part of a larger catastrophe.

"All of it..." Issak gestured expansively with his glass, "All my fault."

The chill continued to build around Dek. His vision blurred. Fear maybe, but this was something more. This was the working of the LoomIssak... what?"

Dek heard rustling from the other rooms of the house. He struggled to move but failed.

***

"I can't say how much I think you're right on this one, chief!" Roy shouted brightly from the other room. Heightened senses- he'd leave them out next time he remade someone. Ivo reinforced the room's sound damper with a little spice from the Loom, finally achieving real privacy.

He was about to apologize for the interruption when he heard Dek's voice through the commlink. "Yeah, me too! You guys are definitely on the right..." His voice was cut off as Issak waived a hand, reinforcing his own damper.

Though their conversation had been grave only a few moments ago, they now regarded each other with airy consternation. Issak shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. Issak rubbed his temples, covering his eyes with his hand. "Replicants." He said. They both laughed.

"Connectivity drugs?" Issak brought the conversation back on track.

"Harmony," Ivo replied, "according to the amount in their blood, each of the things had used it no more than eight hours before the attack."

"Demon junkies?" Issak asked, traces of his smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.

"Not demons." Ivo said, "Humans. I think the Harmony's an enabler- a catalyst."

Issak didn't respond. He gave Ivo his full attention.

"There are cracks in the fabric of reality still running through their flesh, down through the Underworld, out to... to somewhere else. The flesh has been changed, but not by the Loom... by whatever outside power is forcing its way into our world. Issak, it's getting stronger."

Issak immediately suspected. Cracks through the Underworld, leading somewhere else. He'd been somewhere else recently, met something sinister there. He didn't believe in coincidence. His mind returned to the feeling of the Outsider pressing in on him, trying to get under his skin, trying to get behind his eyes. He imagined what might have happened to him if the doors to his mind had been wedged open with connectivity drugs.

"Maybe we do need to come to Chicago." Issak said.

***

Issak's voice dropped to a whisper. He leaned forward. "I broke it Dek. And now it's here. It's going to flood the earth and no one can touch it..."

Kaspari was looking at his hands resting on the table. "It might be weeks or months, but this is the end of the world we know."

As Issak spoke, Dek's limbs seemed to move away from him, as if he were stepping back away from his body along some fourth dimensional axis. Yep, this was fear. Not for his life, not of whatever was happening to him now- it was fear of a final loss. His parents, Ivo, Roy, and now Kaspari- it was fear of having nothing left.

"What have you done, Issak?" Despair was a black sea on which he floated. But curling through the depths of fear, like a dark serpent felt rather than seen, was a terrible rage. It didn't have to be this way. If they'd all stuck together, they could have solved this.

Issak raised his voice again, as if speaking to the lurkers shuffling about the house. "Do you feel it leaving?" He said like a drunkenvillain in a melodrama. "I'm extracting your alignment, your tether to the Loom. The gift Ivo gave you."

Dek was almost sure Issak's next act would be the patented Evil Sneer preferred by black-clad villains and those named 'Snively' the world over.

"It needs it to complete its transition to this world," he said with another theatrical wink.

"Your mamma." Dek's grin was the cold twist of a man with nothing to lose.

Issak laughed. Not an evil cackle, but not the generous reward for a joke well told, either.

Though Dek's hearing was diminished by whatever Issak was doing to him, he could still hear the shuffling that was coming slowly down the hallway behind Issak.

"There's someone you need to meet." Issak said: evil grin and sad eyes. The shuffling was all around them now. The darkness in the hall behind Issak seemed to open into a distant and much lower world; a world where bats and wolves competed for the affections of their dark masters. Sheesh.

Shapes coalesced from the darkness, first as outlines of men and women, then dark eyes, sharp and moving in unison, then faces and limbs disfigured by new and more lethal purpose.

"Metal band roadies? This is your new crew? Not impressed." Dek said. The fear was gone. The sorrow was covered. The rage was gonna come out and play.

He could move his hands somewhat, his feet below the ankle, and his head and neck. He put on a big show of struggling against whatever force Issak was using to hold him. The small movements he made were sluggish, perhaps as slow as he had moved before Ivo had breathed the power into him. Still, he had work to do before the end. "You killed Ivo... killed Roy." Dek bored a hole into Issak with his stare.

"I" All nine of the things at both entrances to the kitchen said in unison, "Killed them." Issak still sat across the table, eyes lowered. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again.

Dek looked around at the all-chant chorus. "You guys do rounds, too?"

"Ivo discovered them... what they were doing. After Gamma went down, after Asado made their play to kill Ivo." Issak paused for another swallow from his glass. "Some of the things that attacked Ivo actually fouled his interface with the Loom. Later, he found out why."

"After digging Roy's sword out of them, right?"

Issak nodded. "That's when he found the cracks." another swallow, "Through the disfigured corpses were ragged cracks into the underworld, through the Loom itself. My cracks."

Behind Issak, the lurkers shifted their heads in unison, rolled their eyes. Dek laughed, "If you're done talking about your crack, I think your new pals would like to get to the killing me part."

After an evil stare that lasted a few seconds, Issak continued. "Their goal tonight is not murder, but larceny. Tonight they need what now hovers around you... they need what you're now ready to give... you see? You are the key."

"To the executive washroom?"

"To the world... to the Loom." Issak said with a more agitated wink- what was up with that? Dek didn't really care, "Just a little blood linkage to forge the connection and it's theirs to use."

One of the corcrowd stepped forward, humorless smile stretched taut. Nice teeth.

Issak was still talking. Blah blah ghosts from below, yadda yadda cover the world. He really could bang out the verbiage sometimes. Dek was listening now as always. He'd parse through the info later with perfect recall, assuming he lived. If he didn't live, he really didn't care what Issak's plans and motivations were.

Dek was looking down at the table. Teak wood. Unusual in this day and age, but then the table didn't come from this day and age. Roy had built it long ago. He'd given it to Ivo, but not before he'd worked perfection into every centimeter. At first glance, the table seemed simple, utilitarian. But upon closer inspection it was full of subtle beauty- the lines were carved freeform so there were no straight edges anywhere. Gentle curves drew the eye around the edges. The sparse, but intricate carvings enticed the eye to linger. The table suited Roy, suited Ivo.

Tears filled his eyes. This grief could only be distracted by massive quantities of violence. Of course, it could only be conquered through forgiveness. He felt that as certainly as he felt the power leaching out of him, as sure as he felt disgust as Issak dragged his tumbler across Roy and Ivo's table- would it kill him to use a coaster? The demon was rounding the table as Issak blabbered on like he had all the time in the brink-of-destruction world. What was it with overconfidence and the evil? He used to be so careful.

"...save them, but I can save you now..." Issak was saying.

The flash that came next surprised everyone. No one noticed the lock tone or the ringing blade- the snap of the hammer drowned by the roar of the gun- but the demons that surrounded the table staggered as the shockwave burst outward from Issak's destroyed hand. Dek was surprised that the disruption his blade had caused in Issak's Cast should affect them. They must be more sensitive than they appeared... you really can't judge even demonic books by their covers.

Of course, no one was more surprised than Issak, as he gaped down at the tip of the Forged blade that protruded from the back of his left hand as it rested on the table. Or perhaps he saw only the starburst of erupting energy as the blade that parted his flesh and severed the skeins of the Cast that flowed outward through him.

Nobody was probably listening, but Dek shouted "Bullseye!" anyway. That's just the kind of guy he was.

Issak was carried backward on the crest of the expelled power, hand tearing from the blade. The Cast that held Dek prisoner unraveled and he was free. He surged out of the chair, tearing the sword out of his brother's perfect table.

Well, perhaps 'surged' was the wrong word. The chair flew back, but Dek came up at the wrong angle. His body didn't work the way he told it to. By the time he was supposed to be really getting into the slaughter, he was still trying to keep from falling over. The spark-chill from Issak's Cast still crawled across his skin. The demons rushed in. Monkey crap!

His mind flew along as quick as ever, only now he was using all his faculties to compensate for his new physical limitations. By the time the first demon was in range, he had figured that he was now moving perhaps only as fast as the legendary Bruce Lee, which was to say 'Wayyyy slower'. One of his pressing problems was that the nine demons surrounding him were moving with the speed of the also-legendary Jet Li- which was just a bit faster.

Well, you gotta make do. His mind still worked at thespeed of modern supercomputers, so choreography wasn't a problem... and he did have a really boss sword.

"It is mine!" A dry whisper-scream filled the air. No one's lips had moved... or at least not to make words. Great. Now he was faced with an enemy subtle enough for ventriloquism. All hope was lost.

His lips hadn't completed the smile by the time the sword passed through the forearms of the first rushing attacker. As the blade bit through the attacker's modified flesh, sparks and ripples erupted from the wounds. Forged flesh?

Without pause, the newly armless demon altered his trajectory, bringing his knee up for a low kick. Dek saw it, but didn't have the speed to get his leg into position to deflect it and still be able to deal with the next attacker.

His groin took one for the team as his blade cut through the demon to his left, then riposted across the neck of the armless demon. Two down, seven to go. Ouch... that was going to hurt later.

His back was to the refrigerator; the other seven were giving him the same toothy grimace just outside the range of his blade.

"You hear me." The whisper voice said from everywhere. Still, he couldn't see anyone's lips move.

"You know, that devil's ventriloquist thing would really be scarier with a little evil dummy." Dek said, eyes shifting from enemy to enemy.

"You hear, Meat." The last word was derogatory.

"I here meet?" Dek asked innocently, "Perhaps you should have said 'we met here', or maybe 'meet me here', and the whole thing was barely more than a fragment... care to clarify?"

"Let us in, Meat. We will not prolong it. You are the key." The nowhere voice hissed.

"Listen, it's nice to 'meet' you, but I tell you what, you have your little puppies here hop on the elevator right quick and I won't have to introduce them to Judaism. Ok?" He gave the blade a small shake for emphasis.

"You are the puppy, Meat." The voice seethed hatred.

"You are the puppy?" Dek parroted with theatric nonchalance, "You know, attempting insult by induction isn't as straightforward as it might seem. Look, you're obviously new in town, so I'm gonna let you off easy..."

"You will die slowly!"

"Don't we all?" Dek's jaw set. This was it.

Issak groaned. Dek had to move fast now. If Issak regained consciousness before Dek either killed him or was long gone, it would all be over. Hobbled nearly down to human speed, there wouldn't be much Dek could do to defend himself against one of the most powerful Savants left in the world. Issak's overconfidence, distraction and intoxication had left Dek the opportunity to 'hand' him a little surprise, but nothing would save him if Issak woke up now.

Around Dek's thoughts swirled loaded memories: Ivo and Roy eating breakfast at the table now covered with Issak's blood. Roy gripping the severed steering wheel, Ivo in the back seat on the floor. Nine monsters saying, 'I killed them' in perfect lockstep.