Ice Blue (Ice 3)

“You’re crazy,” Summer said, not bothering to consider that might not be the wisest thing to say to someone who really was insane. “Taka’s not going to trade the urn for me. I’m just part of a job, and that job is protecting the urn. You already pointed out he’s been trying to kill me ever since he met me. Why should he suddenly be willing to risk everything just to save me?”

The Shirosama’s smile made the temperature drop lower still. “Because I know that he will. It goes against his principles, but he will come for you, and he will bring me the urn, and the Ceremony of Ascension can be performed.”

“And you’ll let the two of us walk down the mountain to safety, right?” she scoffed. “You think Taka believes that for a moment?”

“Of course not. But he is willing to take the risk for you.”

“According to you, the man keeps trying to kill me. He’s finally gotten what he’s been after for days, and you think he’d throw it all away for me? You’re even more deluded than I thought you were.”

“Poor child,” he said. “I am almost infallible. After tonight I will be infallible.”

“And what if Taka ignores your message and doesn’t give a shit what you do with me?”

“I am a practical man. You left an excellent forgery behind. We brought the fake with us. On the television no one will be able to tell that it’s not the real Hayashi Urn. And I’ll let Brother Heinrich finish what he started. A fitting climax to his short life.”

“A climax? He’s going to die as well?”

“Miss Hawthorne, we’re all going to die.”

She stared at him. “Yes, eventually.”

“No, tonight. The cleansing will unfold as it was written. People everywhere toil and suffer needlessly, only to die in pain and loss. I am here to free people from that endless wheel of karma and sorrow. And my followers will join me, happily.”

“And what about the people who don’t follow you? Are they going to join you, too?”

“The only way to save the world is to destroy it.”

“You’re as crazy as that nut-job who gassed the Tokyo subways.”

A faint frown tugged at his mouth. “The Aum Shinrikyo were too rushed, though their vision was correct. The time had not yet come. That time is now.”

Summer felt a new chill sweep down her back-bone. She tried to rally. “Are you going to be an evil overlord and tell me your plans?”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s an American joke. The evil overlord, thinking he has the hero at his mercy, tells him his evil plans, and then, when the hero gets free, he’s able to thwart those plans.”

“Ah, Miss Hawthorne. I am no evil overlord, I am the blessed incarnation of hope for mankind. And you are not the hero—you are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Telling you what will happen will make no difference, even if karma decrees that you somehow manage to escape. It’s too late to stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“In less than an hour a cargo plane will arrive, filled with scientists and soldiers, the best of my disciples. They will take the crates of drugs and gases and fly them out of here. They’ll be distributed and shipped to other followers in all corners of the world. Armageddon will commence.”

“And what will happen to us? Do we go with them?”

He shook his head, and the white hair floated gently onto his rounded shoulders. “While the cameras are rolling, I will place the ashes and bones of my ancestor back into his ancestral urn. Then I will commit seppuku, my blood mixing with his ashes, and be reborn.”

“Sounds like a mess to me.”

The Shirosama’s beatific expression faltered for a moment. “Brother Heinrich will serve as my kaishkunin and release my head from my body, then open the gas canisters. In the open air the toxins will take a bit longer to diffuse than I could have wished, but even as the cameraman falls, the camera will keep filming, and the world will see the lengths the divine are willing to go to in order to ensure the salvation of this world.”

“But you’ll be dead. How will you know it worked?”

“Death is just another stage on the road of life.”

“Oh, please. You’ll be dead, the rest of us will be dead, and we’ll look like some pathetic mini-Jonestown. In the meantime Taka and whoever he works for will intercept your nasty little shipment and it won’t even get out of Japan.”

The Shirosama had the most awful smile—the only part about him that wasn’t white were his stained, broken teeth. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “If that is wha