arbarossa stared at the crystal in front of him. An invention of the Central Intelligence, it had a distinct advantage over air-modulators in being able not only to transfer messages but pictures as well. The jossers had many such things on their phones and gadgets, but phones and gadgets could be hacked – his crystal could not. The spidery torso of the Central Intelligence filled the frame and its soulless eyes loomed closer.
“Faisal – tsk-brrdzt – lives!” it howled.
“You never told me of this Faisal before.”
“He should be long – brrt-ching – dead.”
“My clowns assure me that he is quite dead now.”
“He is not – crdtz – flesh, but ones and zeros.”
“He is a pile of parts, nothing more.”
The crystal seemed to shudder as the Central Intelligence jerked its head left and right, spidery and crablike, with gushes of oil bubbling at its maw.
“Grddzt – ones and zeros DO NOT DIE!” raged the machine.
Even as they spoke, Barbarossa could feel the Darkening King beneath him. His words came more frequently now. And only the Darkening King’s words mattered any more.
The butcher turned away from the crystal and looked through his window over the canopy of the taiga, down towards his fleet.
“Faisal, the Armstrongs and my brother – none of them matter. Not to you and I. You want a soul, do you not? And I the world. Stay the course and when the Darkness rises we shall both have what we want.”
The image in the crystal quietened.
“Tsk – yes.”
“My brother is raising an army. Do you know what a general is without soldiers, without pawns to send into battle?”
Hot steam blew from the Central Intelligence’s head, its many-pistoned mind clattering for the answer.
Barbarossa turned and stared deep into the crystal.
“Nothing. Prepare your metal men and we will rout his army before they stand.”