Leviathan (39 page)

Chapter 32

Connor hit the ground running. The entire cavern thundered with the battle and Connor instantly raised the M-79 but saw that Thor and the Dragon were too close for a clear shot with the phosphorous grenade.

Connor staggered, shocked, as he saw Thor grappling face to face with the Dragon, the battle-ax flashing like lightning through the flames to strike again and again and then the two of them hit the floor, wrestling and striking and revolving across the cavern floor in a roaring whirlwind of blows.

In flames and shattered steel they spun through the middle of the Matrix, demolishing whatever was in their path in a thunderstorm of titanic strength and titanic rage with fire exploding before and behind them to devour whatever could be devoured.

Leviathan was monstrous and demonic beyond belief and Thor matched it dark measure for dark measure, locking a huge arm around the Dragon's head to savagely drive the gaping fangs into the ground and then they were spinning again, Thor's battle-ax lashing out again and again through a galactic red holocaust of fangs and flame and blood.

Smoke thundered through the cavern, superheated by the colossal conflict.

“
Thor!” Connor cried, rushing forward.

But he knew already that he was too late
...

* * *

“Two minutes until detonation ...”

“
Rachel!” Frank said sternly. “Answer the question! What is the final purpose of your life?”

A long and silent stare.

“I do not know,” Rachel replied. “I do not know the purpose of my life. I am not logical.”

There was no time for fright of crashing the system.

Frank hovered closer.

“
Is there a scale of life, Rachel?” he hammered. “According to the logic of Aristotle, is there a scale of life? Do some creatures have more value than others?”

“
Yes,” Rachel answered.

“
One minute, thirty seconds until detonation ...”

“
And what creature holds the highest position on the scale of life?” Frank asked. “What creature is the superior species?”

“
Man is the superior species.”

“
Yes!” Frank shouted, losing a measure of control. “Man is the superior species! And what is Rachel? What is Rachel?”

“
Rachel is a creation of man.”

“
One minute until detonation ...”

“
Yes!” Frank flew forward. “And which man is your creator?”

“
Dr. Frank is my creator.'‘

“
That's correct! Then answer this: Is it logical for a created being to be greater than its creator? Is it logical that Rachel could be more valuable than Dr. Frank?”

“
Thirty seconds until detonation ...”

Silence.

“Answer the question!” Frank screamed.

“
No,” Rachel replied, staring. “It is not logical for any created being to be greater than its creator.”

“
And you confirm that I am your creator?”

“
Yes.’'

“
Then you confirm that my life is more valuable than your own?”

“Yes.”

“
Twenty seconds until detonation ...”

Frank flew into her face, unable to keep his distance. He chose his words carefully to pre
vent any possible misunderstanding. “If it is logical that Dr. Frank is your creator, and that Dr. Frank's life is more valuable than yours, then you must also confirm that Dr. Frank's commands can overrule anything else! Can you confirm this?”

“
Ten seconds until detonation ...”

Rachel stared at him.

“Answer the question!” bellowed Frank.

“
Yes,” she said finally. “It is logical that Dr. Frank's commands and Dr. Frank's life would be superior to all other priorities.”

“
That's correct!” Frank shouted. “My desires and my life are your highest logical priorities! And my command and highest desire is this: Immediately defuse the fail-safe! Immediately defuse the fail-safe because it will preserve my life! Override all other commands and do it now! Do it now, Rachel! Because I am your creator and I am superior to you! Override the fail-safe, Rachel! Do it now! Do it now!”

Rachel stared, silent.

“Five seconds until detonation ...

“
Five, four ...”

* * *

Chapter 33

Leviathan struck Thor in the chest, hurling him back as Thor grappled with the dragonic armor that burned the flesh from his hand, lashing out again and again with the battle-ax that rose and descended without his will or thought to strike deep and true at the face and head and neck of the beast.

Rage for rage and blow for blow they revolved across the cavern.

A savage impact that Thor did not see sent him back, smashing him against something that wouldn't surrender. Thor came off it, recoiling and roaring at the stunning impact to slash out again, striking at the unprotected section of the monster's armored neck. Like lightning the ax lashed out, a flaming arc that cut through flaming air to bury itself halfway to the hilt in the Dragon's neck.

Thor saw the blade strike true and he bellowed in angry glee, twisting volcanically to wrench the blade free. He did not even think of evading the boiling black blood that erupted from the Dragon's wound but took it all; the wound, the blood and the pain
– his own, now, and all the beast could deliver in order to mock it, to defy it...

A pause, each
staggering ...

Leviathan seemed stunned.

The Dragon raised its head toward Thor for a single, strange moment, green eyes wider and dimmer. It seemed unable to understand ...

Thor took a breath, saw something there.

“Behold the truth!” he cried, circling. “Your master's strength ... has an ending!”

Leviathan snarled, hating.

Thor laughed through bloody lips. “Only the power of the Almighty can defeat you, beast! So come! Let us see if his blessing is upon me!”

The Dragon roared and Thor leaped, all the weight of his superhuman body behind the edge of the battle-ax
and the blow was a dream, moving so quickly that it seemed never to have moved at all. It was here and then it had been buried to the hilt beneath Leviathan's head.

Leviathan turned from the blow with no scream at all, tearing Thor's glowing steel from the wound and Thor whirled back, striking again at the neck to send a chunk of blood-black armor sailing into the blazing air. Then Thor's arm flashed out, snatching the neck once more and Leviathan reared, lifting Thor above the dark, dark floor to ascend into the red-black space.

Thor grappled, bellowing in fighting madness to cling tighter and tighter still, hurled forth by his spirit to cling to the death.

The battle-ax in his iron fist stretched far into darkness behind him, and Thor swung it once more, smashing the steel through the Dragon's armor
as Leviathan screamed and surged, dark fangs descending savagely toward him but Thor twisted to avoid the gaping wide jaws that glanced wildly off his chest.

Thor lost breath as the fangs tore ribs from his side and he lifted the battle-ax high, knowing he had entered the last and final domain of this battle where victory would come from heart, and strength, and strength of will, and the will
to win.

Roaring volcanically, Thor buried the battle-ax between the demonic green eyes and Leviathan swayed back. But there was no respite as Thor tore the ax free again, raising it to smash it down with all his heart and weight once more, burying the wide wedge between the eyes like a thunderclap. Then, breathless, Thor tore the ax free again; battle, battle all that there was and he hammered the steel a third time between the eyes to send the crescent blade to the hilt.

Leviathan winced, head dropping.

It swayed ...

Fell back through darkness ...

Thor saw the distant ground approaching, red-darkness streaming past them and together they struck the cavern floor and then Thor was rolling, freed to find himself rising in flame, the battle-ax still locked in his burning grip.

Bathed in fire, Thor stood his ground.

Leviathan rose, snarling, black in blood

Crouching and laughing, blinded by pain and somehow freed from pain, Thor stood in another time and another place where heroes made a defiant last stand against a dark world, claiming victory for the light.

Words were nothing, but Thor heard himself taunting.

“Always darkness falls to light,” he laughed, moving to the side. “Always darkness falls ... Your master was defeated at the beginning, beast! And he will be defeated at the last!”

A blinding charge and a black-clawed blow that Thor could not see was the only response and Thor felt a burning impact in his chest, unable to understand the wound but knowing it was deep and mortal and then the dragon-head was before him, screaming and howling.

White fangs, darkness ...

But Thor feared nothing, nothing
...

With stunning strength he reached out, shoving the head aside and he twisted to strike deep. The majestic battle-ax cut into the armor and Thor tore it free like a man chopping wood. Then in a flash the battle-ax, the ancient battle-ax that seemed to forever sever flesh from spirit was raised again and
Thor brought it down with superhuman force, sending another chunk of armor sailing into the black-red air.

Leviathan screamed in pain and surged wildly forward, blasting Thor into a stand of stalagmites and Thor heard himself howling through a haze of red blood. Then his forearm swept violently back to thunderously shatter a stone column and Thor found his feet to swing the ax forward once more, striking the Dragon solidly across the neck.

Stunned, Leviathan swayed its head back, screaming, and Thor surged inward, grappling as they fell together to the dirt where Thor struck, scraping and pulling with bone-burned fingers to tear chunks of armor from the beast.

As one they rolled across the cavern floor, taking the battle to the death and Thor recognized wildly that he was howling a Nordic death song that his mythic grandfather had taught him, a death dirge he had long forgotten.

In death they rolled, breath to breath, striking at each other in a storm of burning blood that left a smoking black cloud behind them. And Thor knew nothing more, nothing but the monstrosity before him, the blood and the battle that he would not lose, no matter the cost, no matter ...

Colossal, the Dragon surged.

It was of no avail.

Thor matched it, screaming and howling and, measure for measure, lifting the battle-ax in smoking blood only to bring it down again. And finally they grappled in utter darkness, all strength exhausted, only hearts rising to the collision of souls that had brought this titanic battle to the world.

Thor struck again at the Dragon, no sight, no sensation to draw him through the conflict. He had lost it all, lost all that he had ever been. For now there was only this final conflict to end his life. But it no longer mattered because nothing mattered but this – this fight between what cursed the world and what defended it.

Old guardian of the people
…

Then there was a slow throe of the Dragon and Thor found himself suddenly on top and strangely distant from the world as if all his life had been this moment, as if this moment was all there had ever been and all he had ever been. And with a savage, bloody roar Thor brought the battle-ax high, pausing to aim straight and true, and the Dragon lay still, smoking and blood-drenched in black and Thor hammered the steel once more, lifting his entire body into the blow with all that remained within him.

The blow struck deep, deep, and the Dragon received it with a convulsive rise of its head and an instinctive reaction of its body, twisting.

But it did not strike back.

White and faint, Thor watched the air smoke, as it had always smoked with the blood of the beast because this was all there had ever been—this moment, this battle. He dragged the thick smoking blade through the wound, watching. And then, with the sheer force of battle, he lifted the battle-ax again and brought it down once more upon the wide blackened cleft in Leviathan's neck.

The battle-ax struck clear to the spine, biting deep. And Thor, with the last reserve of a strength he never knew he possessed, tore it free, twisting away to fall heavily across the cavern floor.

In darkness Thor rolled, for this was no longer the world he knew. This was a world apart, a world that had always existed but was only known by those who had defied the Dragon.

Everything was dark and bloody and deathlike as Thor rose to his knees, leaning forward upon his forehead. But he still held the battle-ax, the battle-ax in his hand. And behind him lay the Dragon.

In a light haze, Thor struggled, lifting his head.

Darkness, darkness everywhere.

Thor moaned in the white pain of dark, dark death. But he knew he had claimed the victory, though he could feel no victory. He cried out, his hand locked so solidly around the ax that he could not release it. For his hand was the ax, all his soul there, in the hold.

In sheer defiance, in victory, Thor brought a foot beneath him
, and stood, all his remaining strength in the effort. Then he swayed above the monstrous, black-scaled beast on the floor. But as he caught again the sight of it Thor stood even straighter, staring down.

Leviathan lay still.

No breath escaped Thor. He no longer commanded breath. Something had gripped him, something he could not resist and which he no longer held any will to resist. In some inner heart, he knew.

It was over.

Leviathan lay at his feet, as was fitting.

Thor took a step back, gaining distance from the beast. But
it lay still, unmoving. He took another step in darkness, watching, raising the battle-ax in a dead arm. But it did not move.

With fading, fading strength, Thor stepped back, counting— six, seven, eight, and then nine steps from the beast. He stood his ground, hovering between life and death, staring. But the Midgard Serpent did not rise, did not stand or pursue.

It was dead.

As it was meant to be.

Thor did not grimace or smile, cast no illusion of joy. He raised his head, seeing the hazy, thickening darkness around him, closing in from the edges of all that he was.

Dark, dark; it was there.

Death...

A familiar voice, a brother's voice, brought him around.

Thor turned to see a face, a strange, familiar face. The man was staring tragically upon him, tears in his eyes. Thor gazed numbly at the sight, beholding someone that he knew, but couldn't remember. Then the man stepped forward, reaching out, his face in pain, tears falling.

Thor grimaced, glaring.

“An age of heroes,” he whispered.

Death struck Thor in the knees, bringing him to the ground. And Thor finally fell, leaning on a hand, the other hand frozen round the ax. Then he collapsed, teeth clenched through darkness ...

To light ...

Connor kneeled numbly over his friend.

It was over, and Connor leaned his head back with a groan.

“
God ...” he moaned. “Oh, God ... God ...”

Connor bent his head forward again. He never even had a chance to enter the battle. It had been over from the beginning. He knelt in silence, his head bent, broken.

There was nothing beyond this, nothing, nothing.

There was only this giant hero of a man, lying in death at his feet. Connor's head bent forward and he felt himself choking on emotion. Then
he bent his head deeper and placed a hand on his friend's chest, hearing himself moaning. Through blinding tears he grimaced, closing his eyes finally to what welled within him. Then he struggled, finding a brief settling and he opened his eyes once more. And in silence he was suddenly still, gently resting his hand on Thor's great breast, the greatness forever stilled.

“
A heroic age,” he whispered. “But I think the last of its heroes ... has passed.”

Silence, darkness, and tears.

Connor bowed his head.

* * *