torg 05 - City of Pain Read online

  Torg

  The Possibility Wars

  They have come from other cosms, other realities, raiders joined together to

  accomplish one goal — to steal the awesome energy of Earth's possibilities!

  This spectacular epic of adventure, magic, and high technology is set on a reality-torn Earth — an Earth warped into someplace else. Don't miss any of the volumes in the Possibility Wars saga

  Other books in this series: Storm Knights The Dark Realm The Nightmare Dream Strange Tales From the Nile Empire Dragons Over England Mysterious Cairo Out of Nippon Interview With Evil

  The Possibility Wars™

  created by Greg Gordon and Bill Slavicsek

  City of Pain

  by John Terra

  KEY

  Humboldt University

  Unter den Linden Thoroughfare

  Chakeum

  The Barrens

  Berlin Cathedral

  Mehring Platz

  The State Library

  The State Library

  Fransoschise Dom

  Altes Museum

  Museum at Checkpoint Charlie

  The Final Exit Nightclub

  Palast der Republik

  Sulfur Pits

  OCCUPATION — !OF2

  Former SS Command Center

  THARKOLD OCCUPATION ZONE —2 OF 2

  KEY

  Yesterday's Gone Club

  The Palace of Tears

  Discos

  Deutches Theatre

  Friederichstadt Palast

  Charite Skyscraper

  Charite Hospital

  Dorotheenstaadische Cemetery

  Polizei Haltestelle 64

  Kneipen Margraf's

  Introduction

  If only there were evil people somewhere, insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us'and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?

  — Alexander Solzhenitsyn

  Brother Jacques Deveaux crawled painfully through the underbrush, doing his best not to be seen, taking cover in the gloom of approaching twilight. He was in Germany, the territory of the Enemy, and even in his panicked state, he knew enough to stay out of sight.

  He cursed as his left eye, the one made of metal, shut down again. But there was no time to worry about the damage Church Police bullets had done — he had to reach Berlin, from which he could get a plane to Thebes and freedom.

  He opened his palm — the one still made of flesh and blood — and looked at the chipholder and its precious contents. The Fourth Seal ... incomplete, imperfect, true, but doom for the Cyberpapacy was encoded on that

  DatChip. The blood of his brothers in the Order had bought freedom for him and the only extant copy of his masterpiece of programming.

  "Yes, Herod slaughtered the innocents, but Mary and Joseph fled to Egypt with the child," he crooned to the chip in his hand. "And when it was time ..."

  Suddenly, he sensed a shift in the air around him. Every wrong step brought pain, which in turn taught him a new lesson, and Deveaux grew stronger if he heeded the lessons.

  He cast his eyes heavenward and saw a trio of winged beings, and felt his soul take flight beside them.

  "Angels," he breathed.

  V ♦

  Vutark Gez-Four, Demon Prince and lord of all Tharkoldu in Berlin, gave its powerful wings a flex as, accompanied by two Great Alpha escorts, it glided effortlessly across the darkening sky.

  The demon let itself enjoy the feel on the wind on its grey, scaled flesh, and flexed its grey claws, the smile of a predator on its lips. Then it opened its fanged mouth in a roar of dominance over all below. Vutark's cybernetic enhancements flickered in the gathering gloom.

  The Great Alpha who flew at Vutark's exalted left side pointed down toward a pasture. "Prince, look below! Meat!"

  Vutark's SharpSight cybernetic eye focused on the robed form crawling through the brush. "Frocked meat," it added, using the Tharkoldu slang for cyberpriest. It looked again. "Damaged frock meat," it said with a contemptuous snarl. "Not much of a hunt."

  With the Tharkoldu equivalent of a shrug, it banked to the left and began to dive. Vutark's escorts followed dutifully behind.

  The three techno-demons landed in a triangular pattern, with Deveaux in the middle. Vutark stood, wings unfurled

  11 > I heir full three meter span, in the wounded priest's path.

  "Angels!" Deveaux exclaimed on his hands and knees, I lis face beaming madly at Vutark.

  The Demon Prince had read much of Earth's literature, .ind restrained a harsh laugh. No, not angels, priest.,. far, far from it. When it spoke, it was in the softest voice possible. "Why are you here?"

  The Great Alphas exchanged silent looks of alarm. Hunters didn't talk to meat. This was highly unusual. Still, since The Nile Ones came and contaminated the area with their reality, the Prince had changed somewhat, though none dared to question his actions.

  Deveaux held out a hand, revealing the DatChip he carried. "I bring the Fourth Seal! It is incomplete, but soon —"

  Vutark narrowed its eyes skeptically, and picked up the chip, staring hard, as if that would enable the techno- demon to read the information stored therein. "What is on it?" it demanded.

  Deveaux prostrated himself again. "It contains the judgment and punishment of Malraux, and all who follow his way. None on Earth who drink from his cup will be spared!"

  Vutark's feral eyes widened at the implications of Deveaux's words. Should they be true ... The techno- demon needed to know more! If there was something on it that could harm the Cyberpapists, might it not pose a threat to the Tharkoldu as well? Used judiciously, such a weapon could even lead to ultimate power.

  A slow cruel smile spread across its craggy face as it looked down at the still kneeling cleric. It lay a muscular, clawed hand upon the cyberpriest's shoulder. "Well done, my son. You have returned to me."

  Deveaux's eyes lit up. "S-son?"

  Vutark scanned his DatChip for the proper reference, then nodded. "You are my son, in whom I am well pleased. You have survived your ordeal in the wilderness. Now it is time to finish your mission. As the Lamb, you must open the Fourth Seal and bring judgment to the world."

  If Deveaux noticed that Vutark's knowledge of the Bible was imperfect, he gave no sign. Instead, he muttered, "I... I am the Lamb. I have come to cleanse the world of its sin. I have survived the temptation in the wilderness."

  Vutark nodded, then turned to the Great Alphas, its voice dripping irony. "Attend him, my angels. Fly him back to my city, make him whole, and give him what he needs to finish his ... great work."

  The Great Alphas knew it would be worth their lives to look stunned that their Prince was not simply slaying this meat. They touched their foreheads in submission and each took one of Deveaux's arms, then bore him skyward. Then they turned east, toward Berlin.

  "And the angels ministered unto him," the cyberpriest said, lost in his dreams.

  Vutark laughed aloud, a harsh, grating sound. If things were what they seemed, there would come a great upheaval. And in the end, only the Demon Prince would still be standing, now lord over all.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Gathering

  Corey Jones sat at the briefing table at NATO headquarters in Brussels, Belgium, tapping her pen nervously on the notepad in front of her. In her years as a reporter, she had been to many a high-level meeting — but never before as an invited guest and topic of conversation.

  That's what I get for keeping the company I do, she thought with a smile. In the past three years, she had been tra
veling with, and fighting alongside, Storm Knights from four of the invading realities. They'd had their share of victories, enough, apparently, to draw the attention of the US government. Only the next few hours would tell whether that was a good thing or a bad.

  Her reverie was interrupted by the entrance into the room of those who had called the meeting. She recognized some of them right off: Brigadier Sir Arthur Charles Pevensey, commander of NATO forces in Europe; Hutal Jared, one of the leaders of the Ayslish Home Guard, his chain mail looking out of place in a room crowded with full-dress uniforms; Derek Geer, formerly of the Delphi Council, now working for NATO as a special operations coordinator.

  The others were less familiar as individuals, but their roles were clear: representatives of the German military, the Vatican, Congress, and even Japanese industry. As they took their seats, Pevensey looked over Corey and her companions:

  Major Havoc, Nile Mystery Man and nominal leader of the group;

  Kayla, Ayslish barbarian who had turned against clan and kin to aid in the war against the High Lords;

  Marcel Berge, renegade Cyberpapal Hospitaller;

  And Daremo, perhaps the deadliest of them all, a ninja warrior from Nippon Tech who looked ill at ease outside of his customary shadows.

  Pevensey cleared his throat and began to speak, "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I appreciate your gathering here on such short notice. Major, I have summoned your group here because I require you to undertake a task of the utmost importance."

  Havoc nodded. He had not spoken a word since they had arrived, but Corey knew him well enough to know that inaction was grating on his nerves. In the Nile Empire, the action found you — there was no need to seek it out.

  "Several days ago, our people in France informed us of an incident in Alsace-Lorraine. A most interesting occurrence, indeed," Pevensey continued. "A squadron of Church Police raided a Cyberpapal facility, slaughtered the clerics who operated it and destroyed their work."

  Berge grunted. "Verily, the Cyberpope is a madman. I pray thee, what manner of enterprise were these priests involved in that demanded such measures?"

  Pevensey frowned. "That is the question of the hour, it seems. All we do know is that their project was not authorized by Cyberpope Malraux; may, in fact, have been directed toward bringing the blighter down."

  "Let me guess: his boys were sloppy," Havoc interjected, sounding more than a little bored. "One of the priests escaped, right?"

  "Yes. Exactly. And our sources say he's in Berlin. And as wo know, Berlin is in the grip of —"

  "Tharkold and the Nile Empire," Havoc finished, sitting up in his chair as if his interest had at last been piqued. "And you want us to get him out?"

  Pevensey nodded again, then called out to no one, "Commence the slides."

  From a small panel, a projector beamed an image of a young man in his 20's, with a bright orange mohawk and .) defiant sneer. "This is John Paul 'Jape' George. Though born in Britain, he currently he is one of our contacts within Cyber France."

  "'John Paul George'?" Corey laughed. "Where's Ringo?"

  Pevensey shrugged. "Yes, well, apparently the lad's parents were fans of the Beatles."

  "Beatles fans?" Kayla asked, puzzled. "What is a fan?"

  "Fans are people who greatly admire someone or something," Corey explained. "These people greatly admired the Beatles, probably even venerated them."

  "These people worship insects?" Kayla pressed, frowning.

  Geer chuckled nastily. He stopped when Kayla started to rise, her hand going for the hilt of her sword. Corey reached out and caught her before she could unsheathe the weapon. After a few moments, Kayla returned to her seat.

  "If we could proceed?" Pevensey said, irritated. "Jape trailed our target into Berlin, but then lost him. Another of our contacts ..." The image changed to another young man, this one with a shaved head and a bright green headband. "Jeff Lambert, also known as 'Doc,' spotted the priest in the city as well, east of the Brandenburg gate, but was unable to make a positive identification.

  "That's the problem in a nutshell: we don't know where our man went in Berlin, or why he's there, other than that he's no longer welcome in CyberFrance. But if he possesses information that can damage Malraux's efforts, we must have it!"

  "What would you have us do?" Daremo asked quietly.

  "You will rendezvous with Jape, who will lead you to Lambert," Pevensey replied crisply. "He will take you to your safehouse. There, you will meet with two agents of the German government." The new slide showed an intense man with a blond crewcut and what seemed to be a single eyebrow spanning the width of his forehead. "This is Gunther Baum, formerly of West Germany's GSG9."

  Corey nodded with satisfaction. GSG9 was a counterterrorist unit, and an extremely effective one at that.

  An aloof-looking woman with long blonde hair starred in the next slide. "And this is Andrea Schloss, once part of the SSD, now working for the united government."

  "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Corey interjected, leaning forward in her seat. "SSD? As in ... Stassi? As in ... the former East Germany's secret police and espionage network?"

  Pevensey looked her straight in the eye. "This is war, Ms. Jones. We take our allies where we can find them."

  "Never recruit a journalist for missions like this," Geer muttered. "They know too much, and they insist on bringing it up at the worst times."

  Before Corey could respond, Kayla reached across the table, brandishing her dagger. Geer was out of his chair and halfway out of the room before Berge and Havoc succeeded in calming her.

  Corey leaned back in her seat, worried. Tharkoldu on one side, Stassi on the other—this mission was going to get bloody in a hurry.

  "Your safehouse is a special underground facility, which was built by the Yanks during the Cold War," the Brigadier explained. "You five, plus Jape, Doc, and the two Germans, will occupy it and use it as your base of operations. It has already been stocked with food, equipment, and weapons. If it turns out to be useful, we'll make it a central coordinating post for all future Storm Knight operations in Berlin."

  "Forgive me, but it seems that a vast host of Storm

  Knights are gathering at yon city," Berge observed. "Is such a massing of warriors in one place wise?"

  Pevensey looked at Berge with approval. The Brigadier was glad to see that someone on the team had a grasp of tactics and grand strategy. "Ordinarily, you would be right, lad. However, we feel that Berlin's location relative to the surrounding realms makes it of great strategic value. Also, since most realms have staked out a neighborhood in the city, we need a vast collection of Storm Knights from those respective realities so that we can operate freely wherever needed."

  The young Hospitaller nodded, apparently satisfied.

  "Once you are settled in," Pevensey continued, "your mission is to find this priest and ascertain the nature of his activity. Should that activity pose a threat to our cause, you are to put a stop to it ... and to him. Your transport is waiting. I'll expect you on your way within the hour."

  "We came here already prepared to travel again," Daremo declared, as the five began to rise from their seats. "We shall depart immediately."

  "Oh, yes, one more thing," Pevensey added. " Our intelligence reports warned that a top agent of Dr. Mobius' — one Scarlet Asp, by name — is at large in Berlin."

  Major Havoc stiffened at the sound of the Asp's name. They had crossed swords on more than one occasion, the Asp motivated by some twisted love for him. Their encounters were never ... pleasant ones.

  "We decided to call in a Nile contingent to combat her, but it seems those Mystery Men chaps are spread rather thin. We were forced to recruit a team calling themselves 'the Vanguard.' You may expect to rendezvous with them at the safehouse as well."

  If Havoc reacted uncomfortably to the mention of the Asp, he went positively ballistic when he heard the name "Vanguard." He shook his head and continued walking out of the room as the Brigadier and the others wished
them godspeed.

  "Do you know of this Vanguard, Havoc?" Daremo asked when they were away from other ears.

  Havoc nodded and sighed. "They're second-stringers, made up of Terran expatriates and transformed Core Earthers. Let's put it this way: remember Destructo Don?"