Dodge took the growing consternation evident in the President’s expression as a good sign. “We’re in some kind of… I don’t know what to call it. It’s like an illusion, and every time you turn a corner you forget why you’re here. You have to concentrate on what you remember about last Sunday. Remember the garden party?”
“Advanced technology, you say. Yes, I… Something about lightning and men flying through the air.” He stiffened in his chair. “Good God, I remember now. We were on that airplane for hours. We landed in the sea and then he brought me here. Mr. Dodge, you’ve got to tell me, who is the devil behind all this?”
“That’s a long story sir. The important thing is that we’re here to rescue you. I just have to figure out how to get back to the door.”
“You just said ‘we.’ Where are your confederates?”
“Outside in the ice cave. I know it’s a lot to swallow, sir, but you have to concentrate. Keep thinking about what happened.” Dodge followed his own advice, trying to picture the steps that had led him to this place so he could retrace them, but when he opened the door, there was only an unfamiliar hallway lined with other doors. “One of these doors must lead out.”
The President rose from behind his desk, and something about that image seemed odd to Dodge. Something about the Chief Executive’s gait… “Sir, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you walking.”
“Eh?” The President glanced down involuntarily. “Why that’s because I… My goodness, that’s curious.”
He turned a few circles experimentally then flexed his knees as if preparing to jump. “Extraordinary. I haven’t had this much strength in my legs in years.”
Dodge was about to ask for clarification when it occurred to him that he too felt better than he had in a long time. He glanced at his hands and was mildly pleased to see only unmarked pink flesh. There was no pain from… I hurt my hands, didn’t I? Why does this look strange?
“Say, Dodge. Are you a tennis player?”
“Tennis? Mr. President we…” Dodge scratched his head, trying to remember what he had been doing a moment before. He curled his fingers, thinking about the heft of a tennis racquet. Tennis with the President; what an amazing story that would make. “Well, baseball’s more my game, but I’ll bat a few over the net with you.”
“Outstanding.”
But the President contracted poliomyelitis a few years ago, Dodge recalled, slowly putting the pieces together. The news reports said he had recovered, but… I’ve never seen him walk. Yet he must have recovered, because he appears perfectly healthy now. Something’s not right.
“This isn’t real,” Dodge blurted. “We’re part of an illusion; this is all in our heads Mr. President.”
The other man just stared back as if Dodge was speaking a foreign language.
“You know I’m right, sir. There’s no cure for polio.” He felt a pang of guilt as he said it, but maybe the harsh observation would be the slap needed to wake them both from this dream state.
“But it feels so real, just like when I was young….” The Chief Executive sagged back onto his desk, a look of pained bewilderment twisting his face. “Is this heaven or hell?”
“A bit of both, sir. As near as we can tell, it was a prison built by a forgotten antediluvian civilization, to banish some ancient evil.” Dodge rapidly rattled off the fact as he remembered them from Hobbs’ discourse. It didn’t matter if he was wrong about some of the details; the important thing was to keep talking. “What better way to keep someone from trying to break out of prison than to give them everything they want, to make them believe they aren’t really in prison.
“We aren’t physically here, Mr. President. It’s like that trick the yogis of India can do; sending their spirit traveling while their body is in a trance. We just need to figure out how to get back to our bodies.” He looked at the door again and laid his land on the ornate lever. “Padre! Hurricane! We’re coming out.”
He lowered his voice, speaking more to himself than anyone. “When I open this door, we will be back in the ice cave, back in our bodies… now.”
The door swung open and for a moment, Dodge thought he had failed. Instead of the blackness of the abyss, there was merely a featureless white wall. But then he heard the sound of someone speaking and his curiosity drew him through the portal.
“It’s ice! Mr. President, we’ve made it.”
His elation was short lived. As he crossed the threshold and once more entered the half-domed chamber, he saw Hurley and Hobbs waiting below. Then he saw that they were not alone; a group of mercenaries in exoskeletons stood in a ring around them, holding them at bay.
Then he saw Molly with the hands of the dark god tight around her throat.
CHAPTER 18
GAZING INTO THE ABYSS
The hooded face turned up to greet him. “Ah, the Chronicler. I can only surmise that you destroyed Krieger. You might have made a worthy foe.”
Dodge felt impotent rage boiling up in his chest. “I’m just getting started.”
“I think not. I will kill her before you can raise a finger. Send your leader out.”
“Leader?”
“The President,” hissed the cloaked figure.
Dodge sucked in a breath to hide his fear. “No.”
For just a moment, every pair of eyes swerved to gaze in disbelief — the mercenaries could not believe that anyone would defy the dark god, while Hurricane and the Padre were astounded that Dodge would risk Molly’s safety so cavalierly. The hand at Molly’s throat tightened and even from his distant vantage, Dodge could see her face turn beet red as the circulation was abruptly cut off. “You will.”
“No.” Dodge’s voice was adamant — far more so than he felt. “I’m not God; I don’t trade in human souls. I have no more power to order someone to his death than you do.”
“Then you have signed her death sentence.”
“Stop!”
Dodge’s heart sunk at the stentorian command, which had issued not from any of the participants in the drama below, but from behind. “Mr. President, you can’t —”
“As an American citizen, Mr. Dodge, you are duty bound to follow my orders.” The President edged out of the doorway. “I will go with you if you release the girl.”
“You dictate nothing to me.” The cloaked figure gestured to his men, then pointed up the elevated threshold.
Two of the mercenaries complied, rising under the power of their exoskeletons to bodily seize the American leader. Dodge knew that once their foe had the President, the rest of them were as good as dead. He stared helplessly down at his friends, at Molly almost unconscious from the stranglehold… saw her flesh go pink as the deadly grip relaxed imperceptibly.
He was moving before he knew why, rocketing downward like an arrow aimed at the dark god. He blasted through the two mercenaries and the impact of force fields sent a shower of sparks onto the group directly below. The sizzling discharge of energy was like the sounding of a starter pistol and in an instant, chaos was unleashed.
Molly’s captor reacted as Dodge had hoped, throwing her aside in order to fully meet the new gambit. It was the only thing about his attack that went according to plan. Faster than the eye could follow, the hooded man whipped out his metal staff and unleashed a bolt of violet fire that struck Dodge head on. His energy field screeched in protest as the opposing currents waged a battle of attrition and Dodge was thrown back into the wall with such force that the bas-relief figures shattered into a blizzard of shards which were instantly vaporized in the sizzling electrical conflagration.
Hurricane and Hobbs had not been idle, but their captors held a distinct advantage: the first thing that their foe had directed upon their capture, using Molly as leverage, was for them to disengage their exoskeletons. When the fighting began, the split second required for them to buckle the belt clasps and activate the protective field was a measure of time they could not afford. Instead, they took their chances with old-fashioned fisticuffs.