He sat until the sun had finished setting and the only light in the tent came from the flickering of the campfires outside. His muscles ached and his bones creaked as he finally forced himself to stand up and stagger toward the tent’s entrance. Outside, a group of pilgrims had assembled at the foot of a pathway that led up the steep slope of the wooded hill that led to Klein’s temple, which flickered in dim light at the summit. He estimated it was nearly two kilometers away, though the grade of the hill and the thickly forested terrain would make it seem much farther.
One of the pilgrims, a man with long, stringy curls and an unkempt beard, approached him. He was holding a shoulder bag, which he removed and offered to Clay. “Alex, we weren’t sure you were going to go. They started without you about fifteen minutes ago. You might need this.”
Clay said nothing, not even checking the contents of the bag as he took it. He nodded once, acknowledging the man, and started up the path that led into the dark woods ahead. So, Prudence had chosen him. He didn’t believe for a minute she found him worthy, simply because he had told her the uncomfortable truth about his daughter. He was also certain she didn’t believe she’d cured 20 years of pain with a few kind words. There was something else at work here.
The woods gradually grew thicker around him as he ascended, and the path became thinner. Fortunately, there was just enough snow to make the fresh footprints of his fellow pilgrims easy to follow in the dim moonlight. He was no expert tracker but had received enough wilderness training that he could follow five men through what was mostly fresh snow. Wait, make that three men and two women, he decided.
He encountered his first challenge about two hundred meters further into the woods when the trail everyone had been following suddenly ended, and the footprints seemed to scatter. Three sets of tracks led in what appeared to be the easier direction; the other two, including the more delicate of the women, had gone the opposite direction up a steep embankment marked by a large, overturned tree. Seeing no advantage in either but dreading the more difficult climb as he could be no more than 20% of the way through his trek and needed what strength he could conserve, Clay chose the easy path.
After a couple of dozen meters, the tracks split into three directions. Clay could just barely make out the lights of the temple, still more than two-thirds of the way up the hill. He was already winded, and his ears and nose had long since grown numb from the stinging wind. His legs protested as he forced them to continue climbing on the uneven terrain, and for the first time, he stumbled over a loose branch that rolled out from under his feet, sending him toppling to the ground. He was instantly thankful he had obtained decent hiking boots, anticipating the evening’s activities.
There was a sudden shriek of terror from up ahead, probably no more than a few dozen meters. Clay scurried on his hands and knees to the next rise and took cover behind a wide tree. There was a strange, crackling sound and a familiar, yet unidentifiable, smell in the air, which he instinctively recognized as sinister. Convinced after a few moments that he was not being pursued or stalked as some predator’s potential dinner, he risked crouching low and moving towards the source of the sound.
He winced as he saw the smoldering form of one of the pilgrims lying face down in a pile of charred leaves, the smell of burning flesh and ozone easily identifiable now. Through more shock and exhaustion than revulsion, Clay took several deep breaths to calm his stomach before examining the scene more closely. Next to the body, he saw a black box, half-buried in snow and leaves, the pressure pad on its top containing the sharp outline of a boot print. It was a plasma mine in all its cheap, lethal crudeness. The son of a bitch, Klein, had mined the forest.
Clay immediately activated the scanner in his optical implant and scanned the area for additional power signatures, identifying more than a dozen in seconds. He didn’t like navigating hostile terrain with the constant distraction of telemetry but conceded that stumbling and falling every few meters was preferable to letting the mines cook him instantly with a blast of superheated ionized gas.
He switched the implant’s sensor to thermal. As expected, it wasn’t sensitive enough to pick up the party through thick terrain in this climate. He did, however, detect a faint glow off to his right. It was approximately the size and shape of a human body, though far warmer than it should have been. He stayed low to the ground as he crept in the general direction of the heat source, trying to remember what the mission briefing had said about indigenous fauna on Notosia. Could there be a warm-blooded predator that large on Notosia that still hunted and didn’t hibernate during the winter months?
He reached a thicket of trees and was shocked to see Prudence, still wearing nothing but her loose-fitting surplice, her expression showed she was completely oblivious to the icy wind that should be ripping at her skin. Yet, something was disturbing her. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Snot and tears had frozen on her face, and she seemed on the verge of breaking down. According to the sensor readings, her body temperature was just over 41 degrees. She regarded him without surprise and slowly raised a finger to her lips. He forced himself to his feet and regarded her with a puzzled look on his face. She then pointed to her left and began walking silently in that direction. He followed suit.
Before he caught up to her, there was a faint buzzing and the slightest yelp of surprise from behind him. He whirled and saw a short young woman with intense blue hair staring up at the temple to his right. Her face was a mixture of mild surprise and confusion. He wanted to call out to her to join them when his implant detected and highlighted the wire-thin security laser placed waist high that she had just walked through. Seconds later, she fell forward, still expressionless, as her body split just above the hips into two distinct pieces.
Clay whirled toward Prudence, who continued to walk away on a path perpendicular to the temple. “What the hell is this?!” he hissed. “Why?!”
“Marnie?” A voice called quietly from the darkness behind her. The noise of the fall had attracted one of the other pilgrims. Clay turned and was about to start back to warn the man of the trip laser, but it was too late. The laser was powered down, and the man was already kneeling next to the remains of the girl. Half in shock, he was still attempting to wake her when he finally realized what had happened. He sprang to his feet, stumbled backward four steps, and wretched his guts into the snow. Then, with a cry that would no doubt be heard back at the encampment, he took off, half-running, half-stumbling down the hill back to the cove.
Prudence had not broken her stride, and Clay struggled to catch up to her, finally grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around until they were face to face. “What the hell is going on?! You didn’t have to kill those people!”
Through frozen tears, the girl appeared genuinely shocked. “I didn’t. He did. Do you really think I’m capable of that?!”
“Please,” Clay pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on. What is all this? Some kind of sick game Klein is playing?”
“Only the chosen, Alex.” She pulled away from him and continued on the path she had been walking. She was leading them somewhere. Clay struggled to keep up.
They walked a thin, barely noticeable trail in silence for over half a kilometer, Prudence occasionally pointing out mines or other traps just off the trail, posing no real danger as long as he stayed in her footsteps. As they rounded a thicket of low trees, her hand flew up, motioning him to stop as she closed her eyes and listened to something in the distance. Clay’s implant picked up the faintest heat source between the trees about thirty meters down the hill.
Prudence motioned for him to wait as she tiptoed off the trail and down the hill toward the arriving pilgrim. Two minutes later, she returned with a pretty blonde girl following closely behind, a look of confusion and terror on her face that Clay was certain must have matched his earlier.
“We’re the last two,” the girl confirmed. “You must be Alex. We were dying to meet you back at the camp, wanting to know how a newcomer was chosen almost immediately after arriving, but you seemed content to stay in your tent.” She bowed slightly. “I’m Annah.”
Clay barely acknowledged the girl but gently moved her into position between himself and Prudence. “Stay close, Annah. Try to step where she’s stepping. This place is littered with all kinds of nasty traps and snares.”
“I know,” she nodded, voice trembling. “I’ve seen them.”
Seemingly oblivious to the conversation, Prudence continued to lead them along the path. Clay was certain he would never have spotted it or at least would have lost it long ago if not for her guidance. She’d walked this many times before, possibly every time there was a pilgrimage.
After approximately fifteen minutes of what appeared to be going in circles, never seeming to get any closer to the lights of the temple residence above, Clay decided he had been through enough. As inconspicuously as he could, he reached into his jacket and retrieved the plaser from its shoulder holster. Then, gently tapping Annah on the arm, motioned for her to let him in front of her. She stared at him, confused for a moment, then went ghost white upon seeing the readied weapon in his hand and stopped in her tracks.
Undeterred and focused on what had to be done, Clay raised the plaser and slowed his pace, allowing the sudden silence to stop Prudence when she was ten paces away and dead in his sights.
“Alex, no,” she protested, holding her hands up to protest her innocence. “I promise, it’s not what you think.”
“What I think,” Clay said calmly, “is that you’re running us in circles in front of that temple. That leads to a few very unpleasant conclusions. You’re not trying to get us to inadvertently set off one of these traps, are you?”
Prudence shook her head. “If it wasn’t for me, you would have set off a dozen traps by now. There are far easier ways to dispose of you.”
“Then that means you’re waiting for something, or should I say, someone?”
“That would be my fault, Mr. Girard,” a voice boomed through the darkness from somewhere up the hill. There was a flicker of lights, and Markus Klein, accompanied by three armed guards, appeared in silhouette on a narrow ledge above them. “I’m afraid I was detained and unable to welcome you properly until now. Prudence was merely following my instructions, so there is no need to blame her. Now, why not be a decent fellow and put the gun down before you injure someone, or yourself?”
Clay thought for a moment. He was outgunned, outpositioned, and, against his better judgment, would endanger both Prudence and the civilian, Annah, should a firefight break out here and now. Though he had hoped to enter Klein’s compound unseen and alone, this confrontation was inevitable at some point, he was sure. The only difference was that he would have to face it unarmed. He powered down the plaser and tossed it to Prudence, who caught it and vanished it into the folds of her outfit somehow. He still had the stuncaps in the holster that formerly held the plaser until they properly searched and disarmed him at least, and he was reasonably sure he could use one to get his gun back from Prudence before the guards got hold of him.
Annah appeared frightened but somehow seemed to regain her composure with a friendly word and smile from Prudence, who motioned for the two of them to follow her up a different path toward the temple entrance. Clay noted that two of the guards had already moved out of sight, and the third, who stood at Klein’s side, kept his rifle pointed down. When the three of them finally reached the summit, they stepped onto a wide pathway that led up to a large, wooden archway marking the entrance to the compound. There, lit from behind in an almost divine effect, Klein stood, arms outstretched, a welcoming smile on his face.
“Annah, my child, I am delighted that you have made it to us at last. I have heard a great deal about you from Prudence here. I can’t wait to learn more.”
The girl, still trembling, lost herself somewhere between a bow and a kneel and finally stopped, watching Klein for a clue on how to proceed. He responded by putting a paternal arm around her. “I’ll have none of that,” he said. “Now, you must be freezing. Go with Prudence. She’ll find you quarters and some food. Get a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk at breakfast tomorrow.”
Annah smiled for the first time and giggled in relieved innocence. Prudence handed Klein Clay’s plaser and gently led the girl towards a door on one side of the courtyard.
Klein regarded the firearm for a moment, offhandedly showed it to his guard, who merely smiled, still not raising his rifle to a ready position. Finally, Klein pocketed the weapon and turned back to Clay. “Bonai Saigo seems overly determined to find their partner, Mr. Girard. There are easier ways to get an appointment with me if your interest is truly legitimate.” He gestured Clay toward a different entrance to the central building, which, from the limited structural plans Ness had obtained, appeared to be his personal residence. “Do they always arm their corporate officers for negotiations?”
They entered through the doors into a large foyer adorned with plants, fountains, and impressive works of art, all of which centered on a green-gemmed statue of a robed woman at the entryway, her arms palm up in a gesture of welcome. Aside from the composition, which was, without a doubt, pure jade, Clay found the detail work itself to be unremarkable and not particularly valuable. “It’s standard practice, yes,” he offered. “I hope you aren’t offended.”
“Not at all, sir.”
The foyer led to a large living room. Three levels of balconies above, all living apartments, were capped with a domed skylight through which moonlight illuminated the entire house. In some of the darker corners, small globes glowed a dim amber, complementing the ambiance without distracting from it. The wall opposite the balconies was entirely transplas and offered access to the back garden and its clifftop view of the ocean, with Nakano City shimmering on the horizon kilometers away in the distance.
“Breathtaking view, isn’t it?” Klein offered, then motioned Clay through a large set of wooden double doors and into a study. He gestured for Clay to take a seat on an overstuffed couch while he himself sat behind a huge wooden desk that was easily worth more than the rest of the furnishings in the room. Klein dismissed the guard, retrieved Clay’s plaser from his pocket and pretended to study it closely.
“You’re very trusting, Mr. Klein.”
Klein waved a hand, dismissing the conversation. “Bonai Saigo doesn’t want me dead. They want a deal,” he said, then his face turned sinister. “And Division 5 can’t kill me until they have secured Keraunos.”
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