"What makes you think you should? By the way, I was with him when he died."

"How? How did he die? The Enemy?"

Was that why his father had stopped coming around? Hank had guessed that but never known for sure. He'd paid regular visits as Hank was growing up, telling him about the Plan, about his destiny, and then when Hank was around seven he stopped coming around altogether. The question of why had plagued him ever since.

"Jonah was crushed in an elevator shaft. A slow, painful death. Took him hours to die."

"You were there? Didn't you help him?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "Help? Why would I do that? I'm the one who put him in there. I stayed to sup."

Hank let out a roar of rage and struggled to break free of whatever was holding him back, but couldn't budge a muscle. What kind of power did this b.a.s.t.a.r.d have? Had he hypnotized them into thinking they couldn't move? Had he drugged them?

"What's he talking about, Hank?" Darryl said.

"Just shut up for a minute, okay?" He turned to Rafe or whoever he was. "Why? Why'd you kill him? What he ever do to you?"

"He forgot his place. He began to think he could supplant me."

" 'Supplant' you? Why would he want to do that? I mean, who the f.u.c.k are you you?"

"I am the One. Jonah forgot that. He conspired against me. You were part of that conspiracy." He pointed to Dawn. "As was she, but most especially the child she carries. That was the ultimate goal-to concentrate his bloodline in a child he could use to replace me." He smiled as he shook his head. "It never would have worked, but the very fact that he was thinking along those lines made him an unfit guardian. He was supposed to be my protector, but instead he plotted against me. I could not allow that."

An awful thought plowed into Hank like a runaway train.

"You're not going to hurt the baby, are you?"

The man shook his head as he stared down at Dawn. "No. I sensed the child's existence upon its conception, and I must say my first impulse was to eradicate it. But as I became aware of other things, I decided the child might prove useful."

Hank's panic throttled down to cold unease. "Useful how?"

"I can foresee a circ.u.mstance where the child might indeed act as the Key to the Future, though not quite in the way your father intended."

The Key to the Future...

"You know about that? You were listening?"

Another laugh, colder than the first. "You mean did I eavesdrop on his paternal maunderings? I didn't have to. He told me. He told me everything before he died. Everything."

Hank wanted to rip his throat out but still couldn't budge.

The man added, "I also see that I might have use for you and your followers in the near future."

"In your dreams, a.s.shole."

"Don't be too hasty. Our ends coincide. I might prove as useful to you as you to me."

"Like how?"

"Dissimilation... I believe that's what you call it, correct?"

Hank nodded, though he didn't like his words thrown back at him. "Yeah. What about it?"

"Wouldn't you like to see everyone on the planet dissimilated-every man, woman, and child an island?"

"That's the idea," he said slowly. "Break from the crowd."

Where was this going?

"That works into my plans as well. I may be able to a.s.sist you toward that end. But not tonight."

Hank felt his gut twist as he watched the man step over to the bed and lift Dawn into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

"Where are you taking her?"

"Someplace safe-safer than here. A place she will not escape from again."

That shocked Hank. "She's been with you? And she got away?"

"An unfortunate lapse by one of my employees. It will not happen again." He looked up, as if watching the sky through all the floors and ceilings overhead. "I suggest that if you want to be present for any future ma.s.s dissimilation, you leave the city at once. An ill wind is about to blow."

"Wind?"

He smiled. "An ill wind that blows n.o.body good-except me. You'd best leave now."

Hank had no idea what this loon was talking about, so he shook his head. "No way."

Like he was letting this wimpy-looking dude or anyone else-no matter what his eyes looked like-tell him to get out of town.

"As you wish."

And then the man carried Dawn out the door and up the steps to the first floor. Hank waited to hear some sort of commotion from above but all stayed quiet. Was everyone else in the building frozen too?

Suddenly he was stumbling forward, able to move again. Free. He grabbed the.38 from Darryl's hand and ran up to the first floor where he found the foyer deserted.

"Hey, boss."

Hank started and turned to see Ansari strolling in. "Where the h.e.l.l is everybody?"

"Stayer thought he heard something on the roof so we went up. We found out how they got in: Scaled down ropes from next door. We never thought to keep watch on the roof."

"We will now."

"d.a.m.n right. Stayer's up there doing the first shift. We'll rotate till we can find a way to alarm that door."

Hank looked around. "You see anyone come through here who didn't belong?"

"Like who?"

"Never mind."

The guy had slipped out with Dawn. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. He'd told them he'd take good care of her. He seemed as interested in the baby as Hank.

I can foresee a circ.u.mstance where the child might indeed act as the Keyto the Future, though not quite in the way your father intended.

Hank wasn't sure what that meant, but it sounded good. And the guy had been holding all the high cards when he'd said it, so no need to lie.

Hank couldn't help feeling an odd sense of relief. Keeping Dawn and her baby locked away and healthy had looked to be an almost impossible task. Now it was out of his hands.

But once the baby was born-he and Jeremy had figured that would be next January-he'd go looking. His dreams had led him to Dawn, so he was sure they'd lead him to the baby. He didn't want to go one-on-one with that weird dude, but with a bunch of Kickers behind him... different story.

He looked at Ansari. "Jantz ever show up?"

He shook his head. "No sign of him, no call, no nothin."

Not good. He should have been here by now... unless he ran into the hit men.

Oh well, his dreams had also led him to the sword... or rather the sword to him. It would happen again.

The weird guy's parting words came back to him: I suggest that if you want to be present for any future ma.s.s dissimilation, you leave the city at once. I suggest that if you want to be present for any future ma.s.s dissimilation, you leave the city at once.

Get out of Dodge? Fat chance. This was Hank's town now.

11.

Shiro unfolded himself from the tiny s.p.a.ce between three large potted trees.

He'd stumbled as he'd swung onto the roof. Someone below must have heard because in less than a minute four Kickers arrived. They did a quick, cursory search and then spent the rest of the time looking at the ropes Shiro and his now dead brothers had left dangling from the neighboring rooftop.

Finally three of them returned below, leaving the fourth as guard. He immediately set a chair by the door and lit up a cigarette. Shiro watched from his hiding place, waiting for his chance. From the way he was drawing and holding the smoke, Shiro suspected it was cannabis.

Good. It would slow his response time, dull his senses, give him a false sense of well-being.

After a while the sentry's head drooped-just what Shiro had been waiting for. He padded up behind him, wrapped an arm around his head and dragged his tanto across his throat-just as he had done with the Kicker carrying the katana back at the temple.

Leaving the gushing, twitching body in the chair, Shiro walked to the center of the roof and sat. He pulled the vial of ekisu ekisu from his pocket and removed the stopper. He raised it toward his mouth but stopped midway. from his pocket and removed the stopper. He raised it toward his mouth but stopped midway.

He was afraid... afraid of what it would do to him... afraid of seeing the Hidden Face before he was ready.

And yet, what had he to live for? His brother acolytes and the elder monks were dead, his sensei sensei butchered, the sacred Kuroikaze scrolls turned to ash. butchered, the sacred Kuroikaze scrolls turned to ash.

The Order of the Kakureta Kao was, in almost every sense, extinct. Only he survived to exact vengeance. He could go below and slay many of them, but they would overcome him and the Kickers would go on.

But not if their leader died.

He knew Hank Thompson lived below. A Black Wind starting here would kill everyone in the building, and in the buildings for many blocks around. Shiro's head had been injured, but his body remained strong. He would take a long time dying, and the longer he held on, the greater and stronger his Kuroikaze. It might spread for a mile or more.

He realized then that no one in the world would ever forget tonight. The Trade Towers' death toll would pale before Shiro's Black Wind. And all would know it began here, with the Kickers. They would be shunned and reviled and hounded across the land.

An eye for an eye, brothers for brothers.

His fear faded. He t.i.tled the vial to his lips and downed the ekizu ekizu in one bitter gulp. Then he lay back and waited. in one bitter gulp. Then he lay back and waited.

It took effect more quickly than he'd expected. In a matter of seconds he felt his skin begin to tingle as the extract coursed through his capillaries. Then the tingling faded, replaced by no sensation at all. He no longer felt the roof beneath him. He could have been floating a few inches above it-naked, because he could not feel the clothes against his skin, nor the saliva against his tongue. Did he still have saliva?

The carbon monoxide tang of the air faded along with the sight of the stars and the incessant Manhattan rumble.

He spread his arms-or at least tried to. Did he even have arms? Or a body?

Shiro began to tumble through an endless, featureless void with no up or down or left or right. Panicked by the perfect disorientation, he screamed. Or tried to. He had become pure consciousness in a starless cosmos without light or matter, a black, seething chaos without form or substance.

And then something ahead, faintly luminous, coming his way... or was it stationary and he approaching it? Without asking how he could see without eyes, his crumbling mind grasped at it, clung to it as the only reference point in this endless void.

As he neared, it started to take form... slowly he began to make out its shape... and when finally its features became clear... he did not understand what he was seeing... and as his consciousness tried to comprehend the incomprehensible...

... it shattered.

12.

Jack led Glaeken up to the roof across the street from the Lodge. He felt stained by the carnage they'd left behind, and wanted to shower. He knew the residue lay beneath his skin and had no illusions that he could wash it off, but a cleansing ritual couldn't hurt.

He felt bad about Yoshio's brother-didn't even know his name. His death had been so unnecessary. And then again, maybe not. In retrospect it almost seemed as if he were playing a role in a tragedy that could end only one way.

They arrived in time to see four Kickers wandering around their rooftop.

"Wonder what they're looking for?" Jack said. When Veilleur, standing stiffly beside him, didn't answer, he nudged him. "You with us?"

"He's near."

"Who?"

"The Adversary. I thought I sensed him at the Kakureta Kao building, but with all the chaos around us I couldn't be sure. But here, now, in the quiet, I can feel him."