torg 02 - The Dark Realm (31 page)

"Your mission, whatever it is, is over," Quartermain said hurriedly. "As President, I'm calling you back to the farm. I have another mission for you to perform."

"I was working for Wells ..." Quin started, but Quartermain cut him short.

"Wells is dead, and I'm going to give you an opportunity to bring in his killer. Is that enough incentive?"

Quin was quiet for a moment, letting Quartermain brew in the silence. Then he spoke. "I'll be back."

"Good. I'll give you more details when you get to Houston. But you might be interested in knowing who your target is."

There was silence on both ends. When it became evident that Quin wasn't going to ask, Quartermain cleared his throat.

"Your target is Andrew Decker."

131

Colonel McCall was in his office when the Delphi Council arrived at Twentynine Palms. Ellen Conners, the director of the agency herself, barged into his room without so much as a knock or a by-your-leave. With her were half-a-dozen dark-glasses types with heavy weaponry at their sides.

"What the hell...?" McCall said, rising out of his seat.

"Sit down, Colonel," the woman said. She tossed a bunch of official documents at him. "Those state that the Delphi Council has permission to investigate the assassination of President John Wells in the most expedient fashion it deems fit. I have two dozen agents going over the base with a fine-tooth comb even as we speak."

"By whose authority are you sweeping through my facility?" McCall asked, enraged by her attitude and her

lack of protocol.

"By Executive Order, Colonel," she said with a cold smile. "Where is Congressman Andrew Decker?"

"Decker?" McCall asked, puzzled. "He's on his way to the battle zone around the Sequoia National Forest. He's serving as an advisor to the troops. Why?"

"Because evidence that my people have turned up suggests that it was Decker who killed the President."

"What!" McCall shouted, leaping to his feet. "That's patently ridiculous! I was there, damn it! I saw the whole thing!"

"And what did you see, Colonel?"

The way she asked that question made McCall's blood run cold. He had heard of the Delphi Council, but he had no idea what kind of power games they were capable of. He also had no idea why they were handling the investigation of Wells' assassination and not some older, more reputable agency. He swallowed hard.

"Yes," Conners said, her eyes boring into him like hot daggers, "I think we need to have a long talk, Colonel."

"A very long talk."

132

Thratchen raced from room to room, frantically searching every inch of Illmound Keep that he could get into. The illusion of normalcy returned, and the walls were no longer dripping vile fluids — at least to casual observers. Thratchen went along with the sensory games, allowing the house to be as real as it wished. He had other concerns. He rifled through kitchens and pantries. He overturned bookshelves in libraries, tore open mattresses in bedrooms. In the Gaunt Man's tower, he even ripped up parts of the floor. He ran from uppermost floor to lowest basement, and then he did it again.

And again.

But the Darkness Device was nowhere to be found. It had disappeared. Thratchen, so close to his goal, wailed in utter rage, his voice rocking the very foundation of the manor house. Then, wild-eyed, he raced into the lower levels.

In the center of the Gaunt Man's vast workshop, a Maelstrom hung in the air. It was an amazing sight, all destruction and creation in a single instant. In the midst of the storm, Thratchen saw the Gaunt Man.

As he watched, the Gaunt Man was ripped apart by the waves of destructive force, coming apart in a blue- red burst of energy. Then, as Thratchen observed, the Gaunt Man pulled himself back together. It was a truly amazing display of personal power.

Thratchen applauded.

"Well done, High Lord," he complimented. "Well done."

The Gaunt Man seemed to glare out of the storm, but Thratchen wasn't really certain.

"They were resourceful, weren't they?" Thratchen asked. "The stormers I mean. You really should have worried about them a little more. There's something about this world that makes them bolder, more daring. If I might be blunt, that was your undoing."

Yes, Thratchen decided, theGaunt Man was definitely glaring at him now.

"How long do you think this Maelstrom will last?" Thratchen continued. "I guess until either the eternity shard runs out of energy — or you do. Could take quite a while, I would imagine."

Thratchen walked across the room. Lying on the stone floor was the Gaunt Man's walking cane, complete with its Carredon-shaped head and the little eternity

shard clutched in its mouth. He picked up the cane.

"In the meantime, I will run your realm and cosm for you," Thratchen said. "After all, it's the least I can do. But I need you to tell me something."

He moved as close to the Maelstrom as he dared.

"Where is Heketon? Where is your Darkness Device?"

The Gaunt Man didn't answer. Thratchen wasn't even sure if he could. But he seemed to be smiling at the techno-demon, laughing at him.

"I will find it myself!" Thratchen screamed angrily. "I do not needy our help! I shall become the Torg despite whatever hardships you have placed in my way!"

Then he left the Gaunt Man to his endless cycle of destruction and creation.

302

Here ends
The Dark Realm, Book Two of The Possibility Wars.

The story of Tolwyn, Bryce and the Storm Knights continues in

The Nightmare Dream, Book Three of The Possibility Wars.