Mysterious Cairo (22 page)

"In other words, you'd find trouble and then shoot it," Havoc interjected.

"Yes. However, I came to realize that Kanawa has no honor, and that his way is not the true way of Japan, of Nippon. I left my
ryu,
my clan school, and now work against my former associates."

"Can you give me a straight answer?" Corey spoke up. "Ever since I've known you, I thought you were a ninja. You have never come out and called yourself that. Are you? C'mon, Daremo, level with us."

Daremo smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Why, Corey. Don't you know? Ninjas are a myth. They do not exist."

Corey let out a huff of frustration. "Even those guys in the shadows?" Daremo shrugged innocently. "Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. 'We can neither confirm nor deny.' Gimme a break!"

"I am Kayla, of the clan of the White Wolf, born on an Apportation Day, with Metal as my knowledge," the barbarian woman announced in a loud voice. "I am from the island of Bar'aan in the Living Sea. I, too, started as an invader of this world. I, too, saw that there was no honor in what we did. So I left."

"Well, that leaves me," Corey piped up. "I'm Corey Jones, news reporter for
International Cable News,
New York bureau. When the war broke out, I discovered that I could usually make my mini-cam work in transformed areas of Earth. Heck, I still have it here in my knapsack. Soon, though, I realized that I could be helping to prevent deaths and disasters, instead of just reporting them.

"By the way, Major," Corey continued, pulling out a pen and notepad, "what can you tell us about this Mobius guy?"

"Doctor Mobius is a criminal genius, and quite insane," Havoc began. "He is what you would call a super-villain, as well as a High Lord. Sometimes he can be smooth and polite, other times rather silly, and still other times, cruel and maniacal. I would say he's probably the most dangerous of the High Lords. And this latest scheme of his . something about it bothers me. Mobius usually has several irons in the fire, sometimes on a related theme. I'm wondering how many plots of his we'll find, and whether or not we can stop them all."

Kayla noticed Marcel staring off to the side. "Marcel, what is wrong? What are you looking at?"

The Hospitaller was staring at the cyberpapal trio. "My former associates stare at me with unpleasant countenances. I wish they would cease. They make me sorely vexed."

At the cyberpapal table, the three men looked at Marcel and his group. "Another pack of heretics," one Hospitaller sneered, "disgusting!"

"Aye, Paul," the cyberpriest responded, clicking his tongue. "Verily, we are in a den of iniquity. Is that not correct, Pierre?"

The second Hospitaller continued staring at Marcel. "Aye, Father Mouton. But the countenance of that man ... 'tis familiar to me. Perhaps we can have the Holy Eucharist?"

The cyberpriest pulled out two bread wafers that resembled computer chips, and placed one on each of the Hospitallers' tongues. "Receive the symbolic gift of God, communion of metal and flesh," he intoned.

At once, the cybernetic systems of the two Hospitallers flared to life as their realities manifested themselves. Paul produced a hand-held computer, and, keeping it out of obvious sight, began pushing some buttons.

"What does the HeretiComp III say?" Pierre asked, his gaze never leaving Marcel.

A chip popped out of the computer, which Paul removed and placed in the chipholder on his right temple. The information flowed into his mind, and he recited aloud. "Marcel Berge, Hospitaller of the Order of St. Michael. Renounced faith eleven months to this day. Enhanced and dangerous. Official status: Fallen. Ordered procedure upon contact: Excommunication and Ordeal."

Pierre grinned in triumph. "I knew it!" A small but lethal-looking pistol emerged from the base of his wrist. "I ask for the honor of serving the Holy Church," he addressed the cyberpriest.

Father Mouton lifted a hand. "Stay your hand, pilgrim. Not here. There are far too many people here, and some may attack us if we break the truce. Besides, the spirit of our blessed realm dwells in us for a time. Our weapons and armor are strong again. We can claim the victory easily enough. For now, heed the eyes of others who stare at us."

Indeed, the group of Victorian soldiers at the bar were scrutinizing the cybernetic trio. "Poor, deluded bastards," one soldier said at last. "They think they know the path to salvation."

"Hah! Those poor blighters are blind," another chimed in. "The Sacellum is the true way to God."

"Harrumph. Quite agreed, quite agreed," the other soldiers chorused. "To the Sacellum! To King and Country! Rule Victoria!" they toasted.

"Just the same, lads," a sergeant major added quietly, "we'd best keep an eye on this lot. I think they mean mischief." One soldier began reaching for his revolver. "Wait for it ." the sergeant major ordered.

Minutes passed, and the cyberpapists continued staring at Marcel in open hostility. The renegade Hospitaller began fidgeting under their glare.

"I cannot have a friend of mine feeling bad in such a fine tavern," Kayla got up abruptly and, before anyone could make a move to stop her, walked determinedly to the cyberpapists' table.

The cyberpriest merely looked up languidly at the barbarian while his two Hospitallers tensed, their hands at the hilts of their now energized electroswords.

Kayla placed her fists on the table and looked the priest square in the eye. "My friend does not like your staring. Stop it at once!" she snarled.

"And what if I don't, you unwashed, dispensation-ally deficient Visigoth?" the priest yawned.

"I do not know what you just said, but I did understand the word 'unwashed,'" Kayla snarled. Rearing back, she swung her fist. Suddenly, the spirit of the Cyberpapacy faded from the trio. They had lingered too long, and now their weapons, their armor, all of their enhancements, were inert. Father Mouton came to this horrible realization just as Kayla hit the cyberpriest squarely in the nose, which broke with a loud crack.

At that point, all hell broke loose as every patron, unable to abide by the truce, rose up and began throwing things. The jukebox continued playing insipid Terran swing music merrily through the destruction.

"I have not time for brawls," Havoc muttered as he left his table and made his way over to the now vacant bar area. "The rest of you try to stay out of trouble!"

Unfortunately, several dwarves and Victorians crashed into the Knights' table, dragging Marcel, Corey, and Daremo into the fight. Havoc, unaware of this, reached the bar and leaned over it, finding Big Looie, the proprietor, ducking for cover.

"Hi, Looie. Nice crowd today," Havoc greeted the bald fat man sarcastically. "Still running numbers and making bootleg for the Ramses Mob?"

The fat man wiped the sweat from his brow with a grimy apron. "Hey, Major, I'm a honest businessman!"

"Yeah, and Mobius is a philanthropist. What do you know about the following: the Scarlet Asp, Mobius doing something with the Sphinx, and a scheduled hit by Bedouinsky's mob against a rival gang's watering hole?"

"Asp is supposed to be in on Mobius' latest project, involving something to do with the Sphinx. That's all I know ... honest," the barkeep winced as he heard glasses break.

"Say, aren't Bedouinsky's boys and Ramses' boys rivals?" Havoc asked, half to himself. Right at that moment, the front door of the bar blew off its hinges as a half dozen Tommy gun-wielding men in pin-striped suits burst in. The gangsters fanned out, spraying hot lead all over the club. Two of them noticed Havoc, and grinned evilly.

Before they could take action, ten more men came spilling in, this time Nile shocktroopers, armed with KK08 submachineguns. "We have orders to arrest one Major Havoc!" the lead trooper bellowed above the din.

The air was now filled with flying bullets from the troopers, gangsters, Victorians, and Spartans. Magical spells lit up the air. Patrons hurled chairs, tables, and glass mugs at each other.

Remembering that his martial arts were useless, Daremo instead took out a .45 and began shooting the shocktroopers. Kayla was still busy in swordplay against the Hospitallers when Marcel came up to join her and help. Corey was busy braining Spartans with a whiskey bottle.

Suddenly, Destructo Don jumped onto the bar and struck a heroic pose above the fray. "It is always darkest before the dawn ...
Destructo Doooonnnn!!"
he bellowed as he flew off the bar, his outrageously big helmet glowing with power. Don crashed, helmet first, into the knot of shocktroopers, knocking them all to the ground. Daremo noticed that Don looked rather dazed, and the ninja wondered if that condition happened each time the pulp hero used his powers. "He has the spirit of a true Kamikaze," the ninja noted sarcastically as he easily dodged a dwarf wrestling with a stalenger. The stalenger was shifting shades and the dwarf was cursing nearly as colorfully.

A soft shuffling noise from the shadows pulled Daremo's attention away from the amusing sight. In a single fluid motion, the ninja faced the darkness and pulled out his katana.

"Your reflexes are still sharp, Daremo-san." a soft voice drifted from the shadows.

"Akara-san?" Daremo asked, his muscles tense.

"Hai.
You left Nippon abruptly, Daremo-san. Most impolite. It is against corporate procedure," the voice admonished quietly. "That is grounds for summary termination."

"If you attempt it now," Daremo threatened, "I shall use every ounce of my energy to cloak myself in the laws of Nippon. Can you do likewise? And will your skills match mine?"

The darkness was quiet for a while. Suddenly, the darkness doubled in size. From the new section of dark came the sound of two pistols being cocked. "If I were you, I wouldn't try anything here," Major Havoc's unmistakable voice drawled from the new darkness. "This is my city."

The original darkness was quiet for a while before it spoke.
"Daremo,
this is not over. Know now that wherever you go, you shall be hunted by Kanawa's best. We leave you now."

The new darkness dissolved to reveal Havoc, his two guns pointed at the shadowy area where Akito's threats had come from. "Friends of yours?" he asked.

Daremo nodded. "Fellow ... martial artists from my ryu. I did not know you could create darkness."

"Yeah, I'm just full of talents," Havoc deadpanned. "Look, I'd love to sit and talk shop, but we have to get out of here, and the place is still a war zone. Front door's blocked by the jumble of Mobius' goons. Of course, there
IS
that picture window just to the left of the front door ."

Daremo smiled and nodded. "Lead on, Major. I shall round up the others."

Wordlessly, Havoc maneuvered his way through the crowd, took a running leap, and smashed through the plate glass window, landing next to a black roadster. The car was guarded by two cheap hoods, and Havoc suddenly realized that he had seen them at the diner. "Well, would you look at that," Havoc marvelled. "The same two
gunsels
that I took the first car from!" Before the two men could react to the insult, Havoc's fists made quick work of them.

Havoc turned as more of the window broke, in time to see Daremo do an acrobatic flip and land on the car's hood. Corey, Marcel, and Kayla stumbled gracelessly through the rest of the window, and all five hustled into the car and roared off.

"I
love
this place!" Daremo announced as he sank back into the front passenger seat.

"Kayla, you have to curb your impulses," Corey warned. "We could have gotten killed back there!"

"Those monstrous man-metal priests were bothering my friend," Kayla declared flatly. "So, I broke their legs."

"They survived, though," Marcel observed. "And they swore to get me."

Daremo stared out the window and sighed. "It seems that many of us are running from someone or something."

"Well, folks, next stop, the Temple of Wadjet, City of the Dead," Havoc announced, flooring the accelerator.

"You have powers," Daremo observed quietly. "I saw you create that globe of darkness next to my ... associates in the shadows."

Havoc's face turned grimmer than usual. In his mind, he debated whether or not he should open up to the ninja. Finally, the need to unburden himself won out. The pulp hero took a deep breath and spoke evenly, but only loud enough for Daremo to hear.

"Several years ago, on Terra, a villain called the Copper Cobra robbed a bank. My wife was an innocent bystander who died in an accident caused by the Cobra's carelessness in using his powers. From that point on, I vowed to fight crime, and to avenge her death. Some monks in the Far East of Terra taught me how to take the darkness that I felt in my heart and manifest it externally. Eventually, I caught up to the Cobra, and he died, ironically, in an accident caused by his own powers. Still, the emptiness and loneliness inside me remains, and my war on crime continues unabated."

Daremo saw the pain in Havoc's face, nodded to him, then kept silent for the rest of the trip. Little did the ninj a know how much Havoc appreciated Daremo's willingness to listen and be silent.

The City of the Dead, an old burial ground, had experienced a stunning transformation during the axiom wash. The vast expanse had become dotted with hills, crags, and valleys, all filled with tombs, caves, and temples. Finding and entering the fledgling temple of Wadjet was simple, and soon the five crouched hidden in a safe vantage point, and took in the spectacle of the main temple worship chamber.