THE DARK LORD’S KINGDOM
Atalanta appeared over the Atlantic Ocean, approaching Nueva York. The flooded skyscrapers of the Quasi-Police Citadel rose over the horizon, then several kilometers of ocean water followed by the island of Midtown.
“What shall I wear?” the ship asked.
“Go formal,” Inger laughed.
The rust-red and gray Martian camouflage pattern of her hull vanished to be replaced by jet black. “I have an identity to go with this face,” Atty said, and it appeared on Karil’s screen for Inger to see. She banked past the Statue of Liberty rising out of the waters and hovered over Central Spaceport, surrounded by trees and towers.
“Freetrader Persephone,” Inger announced, tapping out the serial number, “requesting permission to land.”
“Permission granted, Persephone,” the control tower replied, and Atty settled to earth. Karil and Inger climbed out of the lock and headed south through the teeming streets, the towers draped with rope-bridges and sunshades above them, the streets crowded with tents and food-kiosks. The din was deafening in a dozen languages.
Karil followed Inger into a hotel lobby, and she confirmed a reservation in a fake name created by a Galilean Security dummy corporation. Conceivably, Karil thought as they rose in the elevator, all the room registrations in this hotel were in fake names. In the room, he peered out of the window at the street below—rickshaws and donkey-carts weaving their way through the colorful crowds, hawkers calling out their wares, Krishnas and Lennonites dancing in the street.
He turned and saw Inger stripping down to her underwear. He never tired of looking at her lush body.
“We’ve got a party to go to,” she said. “We’d better shower.”
“How long a shower are you thinking of?”
“Just a quickie,” she laughed. “You are insatiable.”
“I get that a lot,” he replied.
“I’m sure you do get a lot,” she said, peeling down to nothing. “But are you sure some of what you get isn’t primarily there for Loris?”
“I don’t really care,” he said as he stripped.
They had a very refreshing shower, and Inger padded to the closet and flung it open to reveal racks of clothing. “Galilean Security thinks of everything,” she said. “They have this room on retainer.” She pulled out a formal jacket and held it up to Karil.
“I’ll look ridiculous in this,” he protested.
“Are you kidding?” Inger laughed. “You’re an Arabian aristocrat with your mother’s Mulatto beauty. This will suit you to a T. Have you ever thought of growing a trim little beard to emphasize that jawline? Anyway, you need to be a proper accessory for me.” She took out a powder-blue ball gown and held it up before her, to show how it matched her eyes and made her decolletage glow. It took his breath away.
“Wow!” was all he could say. It was slit up to here and cut down to there.
“Won’t that attract attention? I thought we were supposed to be under cover.”
“No-one will be looking at my face, Dear. Oh, and you have to accessorize too.” She pulled out a massive semi-automatic pistol with a silencer and a laser-sight, tucked into a shoulder holster. “This crowd will notice the bulge under your jacket and think you’re my bodyguard. You will attract no attention after that, except from the ladies.”
When they were dressed, Karil realized she was right. Nobody would be looking at his face, or Inger’s either, especially after she took out a gold necklace holding a perfect blue sapphire and showed him how it nestled comfortably in her cleavage. Everyone not mesmerized by the latter will be looking at the former. She turned her back and he fastened it on her neck.
“You both look lovely,” Atty said out of the jewel.
Inger stretched, to show him how the slit in her skirt freed up the movement of her legs. “All the better to kick you with, My Dear,” she said.
They descended in the elevator and entered the party room. Karil wanted to gape at everything and everyone, but he had a role to play, and he remained scowling and eagle-eyed, like a proper protector. What was he protecting, he wondered, Inger or her necklace? Of course, he could not drink while he played this role. Particularly with his face, it would have attracted attention.
“Look at the man over there,” Inger said.
Karil looked casually around the room, as if scanning for danger, and immediately noticed the man she had pointed out. He was a Chinese man with gray temples, wearing a finely tailored suit over a massive body. No amount of wealth or tailoring could hide the coarseness and crudity of his features.
“That,” Karil said, “must be Mister Zhang.”
“I thought you might like to take a look at him.”
“It only takes one look to size him up, doesn’t it? Now matter how rich and powerful, he’s still a thug.” Karil understood the reason for this whole charade. Now he knew precisely what he was up against.
Zhang was engaged in conversation, but barely paying attention to what anybody else was saying. He never smiled or sipped at the drink in his hand, but his gaze wandered everywhere as if he was surveying his kingdom. Karil stepped in front of Inger and turned his broad back to hide her. Looking over Karil’s shoulder, Inger thought she saw Mister Zhang pause a second on seeing them. Of course, he could not miss Inger’s exposed leg, but somehow he didn’t seem like a connoisseur of female beauty. It was barely a glance, and yet she felt exposed.
“Perhaps we should go,” she said. “You’ve seen him and sized him up.”
“It’s like looking at a lion,” Karil told her. It was almost as if he could feel Zhang’s eyes on his back. “I’m glad to get a look at him, but I can’t help thinking this was a bad idea.”
They left the party and returned to their room. As soon as they stepped inside, they knew something was wrong. They had left the lights on, and now they were off. Karil’s right hand flew into his jacket and came out with his pistol. He saw various human-shaped shadows heading in his direction and was aware of two more converging on Inger. She whirled, her dress opening to reveal her leg, and kicked one in the chest, knocking him back. Karil turned and plugged him, then shot down one of those attacking him. She had continued her turn, seized her other attacker, and threw him over her into the wall. Karil shot that one too, and quickly shot two more.
“Let’s go,” he said. They burst through the door into the hallway and saw the indicator over the elevator door light up. A car was coming. Inger kicked off her shoes.
“That hurt,” she said. “Do you know how much they cost?”
“As long as they don’t cost your life,” Karil snapped. They pounded down the stairway, crossed the lobby, and were out on the sidewalk in a trice. They turned the corner and headed west, and soon found the river lapping at their feet. Karil dared to glance behind them and saw several black-clad figures trailing them. They waded out into the flooded street and saw several boats tied up at a dock.
“This one,” Inger said, and they climbed into one powerful-looking speedboat. Not wanting to put her face close to the engine, she took off her necklace and touched the jewel to the starter on the control panel. The vessel roared into life, and she put on her necklace again. Karil spun the helm, and the boat nosed out into the flooded street. Bullets flew over their heads and the boat raced down the long avenue. Abandoned buildings flew by, washed by their wake. They could hear the roar of pursuing vessels.
“That’s a handy little device,” Karil said.
“Yes, it can contact Atty anywhere, and it has a tracer so you can find each other when you’re separated. Constantly changes the frequency, so it’s hard to detect.”
Inger spoke into the gem. “Atty, we need a pickup. We’re headed down Seventh Avenue. There is pursuit.”
“Coming, Inger,” said Atalanta’s calm voice.
They sped faster down the avenue, into deeper water. The buildings were more ruinous now, and only the upper stories towered over them. There were piles of bricks beneath them, sometimes poking up out of the water, and they had to swerve to avoid them. Speedboats hove into view behind them. Inger reached into Karil’s jacket and pulled out his automatic. He tried to keep the boat steady as she lined up her shot. There was a bang followed by a crash behind them. Flames leaped up the side of a building. She took another shot and the other boats seemed to hang back a bit. Seventh Avenue plunged into the ruins of the Village. The streets headed off in all directions and Karil darted here and there down tiny streets and alleys between dark and ruined buildings.
“Atty needs room,” he said, and steered out onto the Hudson River. A huge tug was coming toward them. He darted across its bow as the men in the wheelhouse shook their fists and shouted, probably something about drunken partygoers. But the pursuing craft had to turn aside to avoid the tug and the long barge it was towing. One speedboat did not turn sharply enough and collided with the barge, bursting into flame. The others quickly picked up the chase.
The waves in the river threatened to swamp their boat, but there came a huge black shadow out of the sky. It passed over them and descended upon the pursuing craft. Black-clad men abandoned their boats and dove into the water. Atty turned away, passed over Karil and Inger, and descended to just above the waves in front of them. The cargo ramp dropped to the water with a splash, and the boat sped up the ramp into the hold and crashed into the cargo-webbing. The ramp slammed shut and Atalanta reached for the sky.
“Just once,” Karil said, “I’d like to walk into this ship.”
Guided by the barest illumination near their feet, Karil and Inger made their way to the bridge. Karil’s panels winked on in low illumination. Inger slid into the pilot’s couch and only the helm was illuminated. Atalanta sped through the sky like a black demon, headed south.
“Thanks for the lift, Atty,” Inger said.
“You’re quite welcome. You are both soaking wet. I’ll make some hot coffee.”
“What can I say, Atty? You’re a lifesaver.”
“Do you have any idea who was pursuing you?”
“No idea at all,” Karil said. “Were we spotted as Galilean Security? Zhang seemed barely to notice us. Could he have been alerted somehow and called his goons?”
“Old Stone Face?” Inger said. “How could we tell what he knew about us? Probably, he could call his friends in the Quasi-Police with that jewel on his crooked finger.”
“You would notice that,” Karil chuckled.
“Or did they recognize you, Atty. Your flying wing design is pretty common for space-freighters, and you certainly didn’t look the same as before.”
“I believe you are right. My credentials were impeccable. In any event, I have been studying the data that Karil and Li collected, and I think I can find the spot in the forest that Zhang has been visiting.”
It was nearly dawn when Atalanta sped over the Southern Forest. She settled into a meadow just slightly bigger than she was. Her upper planes turned from black to a field of green foliage.
Karil and Inger stripped off their wet clothing and showered. Even Karil was too tired for dalliance, but Inger was pretty sure his interest in her would revive after a few hours’ sleep. Atty heard the dawn chorus of birds, the quiet passing of woodland animals through the undergrowth, and she listened for the distant sound of machinery.
***
When they awoke, Karil found Inger’s head on his chest. He kissed her hair. She stirred and pretended not to notice his awakening attention, though it was right in front of her.
“Good morning, Atty,” she said. “Do we have coffee?”
“We most certainly do.”
Inger slipped of out the bag and padded off to the mess. Karil watched her go, paying particular attention to her sacral dimples.
“Atty,” Inger said, “you’re letting in the sound of the jungle and it’s having an effect on Tarzan here.”
“I beg to differ, Inger. It is your impeccable bottom which is causing the effect.”
Karil entered the mess, drawn by the scent of coffee as Inger poured two cups. “Inger’s right, though,” he said. “I love the forest. It beats hell out of corridors in the ice.”
“You’re the Dark Lord,” Inger said, “and it’s your kingdom.”
“Are you reading that? It’s not finished. I’ve only got about half the poems I need."
"So," she laughed, "when are going to write one for me?"
"I don't know. I need inspiration."
She kissed him. "I think I've given you plenty of inspiration on this voyage. Atty, can you tell exactly where Zhang’s pied-a-terre might be?”
“I can detect the sound of heavy machinery about twenty kilometers north-east of here. It’s worth a look.”
Inger went off to the hold. "Karil," Atty said, "I know you've started Inger's...."
"Shhh! It's not finished yet. He joined Inger in the hold, where he opened up a box full of goodies from Galilean Security and pulled out a compact two-wheeled vehicle.
“What’s that?” Inger asked.
“It’s called a Dirt Bike. It’s perfect for forest trails, fast over rough ground. The only thing better is a horse, but this scares away predators, and a horse attracts them.”
After an affectionate shower, they dressed in jungle wear, with snake-proof boots and bramble-proof trousers and shirts, plus wide-brimmed hats to keep the sun off them. Karil was amazed at how good Inger looked in this decidedly un-sophisticated outfit. The dirt-bike was equipped with a rifle-carrier and Karil slid Chi-Chi Li’s shotgun into it. He wrapped the bandolero around the handlebars.
Karil mounted the little bike and Inger sat behind him, wrapping her arms around him. Switched on as Atalanta lowered the ramp, the noisy little machine sped down the ramp and turned off up the game-trail, sounding like a giant mosquito. The breeze it created was welcome, and however rough the ride, it was clearly better than hacking their way through the undergrowth with machetes. They encountered no animal life of any kind, all frightened into cover by the machine’s approach. Even the birds ceased their raucous calling until it was gone. A small screen between the handlebars revealed Atty’s map of the area, and as they approached what she believed was the Zhang Industries installation, Karil slowed down, and the bike’s buzz was reduced. Finally, he stopped and hid the device in the undergrowth beside the trail. They set off across country with their machetes.
Suddenly the forest was gone, and a clear space appeared before them. Trees had been felled and undergrowth cut down for several meters, up to a steel fence. They dare not step out into the open, for no doubt there were motion sensors, and perhaps even landmines. Karil picked a tall tree—a great forest giant draped with vines—and began to climb swiftly. Then he slowed down as Inger came gamely up behind him. Eventually, they were high enough to see clearly over the fence. There was a collection of structures—buildings, hangars, a spaceport, helicopter landing pads, and residences. Karil took out his binoculars and studied the details, first checking the angle of sunlight so the lenses would not reflect the light.
“Look,” said Inger after a while. He lowered his glass and followed her pointing finger with his eyes. A shuttle was descending from the sky and in a moment settled to earth in the compound before them. It said Zhang Industries on the side in Chinese, Spanish, and English. A lock irised open and Mister Zhang stepped out onto the tarmac, surrounded by flunkies. A door opened in the next building and a few figures came out to greet him. One was a Japanese woman whose picture Karil had seen, thanks to Galilean Security. Close behind her was Loris, dressed in a Zhang Industries security uniform. Karil’s heart leaped at the sight of her.
Karil and Inger had been sitting so quietly in the tree that the birds had begun to call again. Karil dared to voice the call of the Loris—a clicking sound, followed by a crow’s caw and a whistle. Loris’s head moved just slightly, and she looked about like a security guard routinely checking the area, and there was just the hint of a smile on her lips. In a moment, the entire party went inside.
“What was that?” Inger asked.
“Just letting her know I’m here.”
The shuttle took off shortly after that, without passengers, and vanished into the sky.
“Looks like Zhang will be here for a while,” Karil said. “Let’s go back to Atty and see what we can do.”
They climbed down the tree and made their way back to the trail and dug the dirt-bike out from under the bushes. They were not more than a kilometer down the trail when they heard the beat of helicopter blades above. Karil sped up, but in a moment, they saw the copter overhead. Bullets rained down about them and they heard a sizzle as laser-fire struck the trees. The dirt-bike roared down the trail, Karil swerving from side to side on the uneven ground. Inger was amazed that he could keep the machine upright. Glancing up at the copter, she saw a device hanging beneath it. She took out her sapphire comm and spoke into it. “Atalanta. Protocol Three. Lockdown now.”
Unseen in the jungle, Atalanta’s cargo hatch slammed shut. Steel Faraday cages came down over the bridge viewports. Inside, lights winked out and the various sounds of the ship—relays and air-ducts and computer hums—dopplered down into silence. Every light was out but one tiny indicator on her higher functions module. She was shut down and locked up tight.
The helicopter released its cargo and it fell to earth on the trail. The copter rose quickly into the sky. A wave of static electricity washed over them, making their hair stand on end, but the low-tech dirt-bike kept rolling. In the forest, the wave washed over Atty, and the camouflage vanished from her outer hull, returning to the titanium-gray she was born with. The glow in Inger’s jewel faded and died.
“That’s an EMP Bomb,” Inger said into Karil’s ear. “I put her on EMP Lockdown. Nobody can open her up now but Loris and me.”
“Not even me?”
“No. Sorry. Maybe they should have attended to that. It’s a Captain’s Protocol.”
Surprised, perhaps, that the EMP blast had not worked on the fleeing dirt-bike, the helicopter crew swung about as the bike passed beneath it, then turned and roared over it again. Machine-gun fire raked the forest-trail. A tire exploded and the dirt-bike flipped. It, Karil, and Inger careened into the trees. Karil connected with a tree-trunk and slid to the ground. Pain arced through his body, but he scrambled to his feet and grabbed Inger’s hand.
“Come on. We have to get away from the trail.”
There was no response. He grabbed her by the shoulders and picked her up. Her head hung motionless. He placed his ear to her breast and there was no sound. Then he saw her blood on the tree. And on her body.
Inger was dead.
For a moment, Karil was motionless, stung into immobility as the helicopter hovered overhead, bending the trees with the wash of its rotors. Slowly, Karil came to himself. He kissed Inger on the forehead and laid her down on the mossy forest floor, struggled to his feet, and stumbled to the wreck of the dirt-bike, its wheels still spinning. The helicopter could not land, so he expected to see gunmen rappelling down to the road at any time. And he could hear motorcycles coming on the trail.
"I am the Dark Lord," he said. "And this is my kingdom." He hauled out the shotgun that Chi-Chi Li had given him and grabbed the bandolero. He struggled to his feet, cocked the gun, and stumbled onto the forest trail, oblivious to his pain.
“And I looked and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.”
The helicopter hovered over him, fighters sliding down on ropes. Karil blew the head off of the one closest to the ground, then raised the gun higher. The man on the rope above reached for his weapon and Karil blew his heart out of his body. Up above, a third figure was just coming out of the door. Karil took aim at him but raised his weapon higher and blew a hole in the pilot’s side of the helicopter. Blood spattered on the plastic. The copter began to tilt and swing madly. A rotor slashed over Karil’s head and the machine spun into the forest. A great explosion took place and Karil felt the fire burn the back of his jacket as he turned to face the roar coming down the trail. He reloaded the shotgun.
An all-terrain vehicle came for him and he blew the driver away. The vehicle careened into the forest and burst into flames, taking the driver and gunman with it. Karil strode into a phalanx of oncoming vehicles, firing again and again. Some crashed, some drove off the road into the trees, and finally one crashed into him and sent him flying into the underbrush. He lay unconscious as a final vehicle picked him up and carried him away.
***
When he awoke, astonished to be alive, Karil saw Mister Zhang standing at the foot of his healing-bed. He lunged for him, splashing the liquid in the bed but found that he was tied down, not only by intravenous feeds but by handcuffs and leg-irons.
“Still fighting?” Zhang chuckled. “I have to say I admire your spirit, Ali Karil.”
Karil fell back because there was nothing else he could do. “You know who I am,” he said. His voice was weak and rough.
“Oh yes,” Zhang said. “I’ve seen your picture and I know quite a bit about you. Born on High Africa, son of the Sultan’s favorite concubine. Martian poet and rebel, friend of Progeny Brown. After that, you're a bit of a mystery."
"I'm a Free Trader."
"Yes, but Galilean Security uses Free Traders from time to time."
"You're paranoid."
"Yes, I am. It's kept me alive all these years, and it's keeping you alive too. You are partnered with an agent formerly spying on your father. I’ve seen her in the background of your father’s vids. Not surprising that you would be working together.”
“She’s dead,” Karil said in a voice like steel. “She needs to be buried or sent back to Ganymede.”
“Too late, I’m afraid. You’ve been here for many days. The dogs have got her.”
Karil gasped and did his best to control himself, but his gaze was pure poison. Zhang actually took a step backwards.
The door opened and a uniformed nurse stepped in. Zhang turned on her. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to read the patient’s numbers, Sir.”
“He’s not a patient, he’s a prisoner. You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“I’ve just been transferred from High China, Sir. Because you needed staff for the new hospital unit.”
“Fine. Get out.”
The nurse beat a hasty retreat and Zhang turned calmly to Karil. “We found your ship,” he went on. “Couldn’t break in, more’s the pity. I’m too busy now to drag it away. Let it rust in the woods. I guess you were investigating our acquisition of Kelley’s ship. If you survive your injuries, I might show it to you. It’s had quite a bit of work done. We’re almost ready for the big launch.”
He started to leave, then stopped and turned back. “You know, I’m kind of disappointed in your organization. Did you think I don’t know what goes on in this forest? Every meter of it? I own this place. This is my kingdom. And I recognized both of you in Nueva York the minute I saw you. I have an eidetic memory and I had seen you when I was doing research for the Quasi-Police. You have caused me serious problems, Ali Karil. You destroyed five speedboats, four all-terrain vehicles, one helicopter, and killed twenty-three of my men. You’ll cost me a fortune in restitution for their families. And for what? Nothing.”
“I don’t know,” Karil said, with seeming calm. “I got into your secret headquarters. That’s the first step in killing you.”
Zhang looked at him intently for a moment, as Karil’s gaze bore into him. Then he burst into loud laughter. “You’re a funny guy, Ali Karil. I’m going to miss you.”
Then he left. Karil lay quietly for several minutes, staring at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Inger,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” And the tears came.