Freedom TM

people reacted to it. It was
their
quest. You’re just carrying the flag.”
    Sebeck stopped. The truth of it hit him. It was the effect his quest had on others that was the purpose. He was just an icon. It made his burden suddenly easier to bear.
    Just then the wood chipper’s deafening engine roared to life, and the birds lifted off in panic, fleeting shadows against the sun. Two soldiers walked up to Sebeck. One pointed first to Sebeck, then the wood chipper. They both nodded and slung their weapons. They grabbed Sebeck by the elbows and started carrying himto the bloodstained maw of the roaring machine. Sebeck felt primordial fear grip him as he struggled and dug his bare heels into the dirt. “No!”
    They dragged him, twisting and shouting.
    But then it suddenly became much easier, and he fell to the ground. Oddly, he was also sopping wet. He turned up toward the man carrying him on his right, but saw that the soldier was missing from the waist up. The man’s severed arm still tightly gripped Sebeck. He stared at it in disbelief. It was not the sort of thing a civilized mind readily computed.
    Sebeck then realized no one was holding him to his left anymore either, and when he turned he saw his other executioner’s torso had emptied its contents across the dirt. The rest of the man lay farther on.
    And now Sebeck noticed that the roar of the wood chipper was punctuated with crackling gunfire and the roar of more powerful engines. He turned to see several unmanned, blade-covered motorcycles wielding twin swords, slashing at the soldiers as they raced past. Already, one of the mercenaries lay on the ground, screaming and legless. Several of the soldiers were in prone positions, firing on the motorcycles to little effect, but then clutching their eyes as green laser light played across their faces. Blinded, they tried to grope their way back to the troop carrier, but got cut down.
    One of the guards managed to make it through the open armored car door, but a motorcycle followed him up the ramp and chopped him into sections with a couple swift sword slashes.
    Soon their captors lay in pieces on the ground, blood everywhere, and a score of automated motorcycles slammed down hydraulic kickstands and started preening themselves like praying mantises—spinning their sword blades to clean the blood off.
    Sebeck looked to Price, who sat in stunned silence, spattered in blood, but otherwise apparently okay. The only sound was thepiercing drone of the wood chipper engine. Sebeck glanced around but could see only fallen bodies and pieces of bodies. He crawled on his belly toward Price, who was trying to sit up.
    Price shouted. “Are you hit?”
    Sebeck shook his head. “No! This is someone else’s blood!”
    Just then the pack of unmanned bikes parted to make way for a lone rider in a black helmet and riding suit. He drove directly up to Price and Sebeck and looked down at them. He dismounted his bike, and suddenly all the engines turned off. A gesture of his hand sent a bolt-straight arc of electricity into the wood chipper, killing its engine as well.
    As the chipper wound down, the rider removed his helmet and riding gloves revealing an unnerving sight. It was a young man, early twenties, but his eyes had been replaced with black lenses with flat black rims. Wires ran from drill holes in his bruised temples to an enclosure at the base of his neck. All of his fingers appeared to have been replaced with titanium or silver prosthetics, topped by gleaming claws. He moved stiffly, as if in pain.
    The rider knelt down in front of them, staring right into Sebeck’s face with his lidless, metallic eyes. An artificial voice, deep and menacing, spoke an inch or so in front of the man’s mouth—without his lips moving. It was apparently hypersonic sound. “Where is The Major?”
    Sebeck shook his head. “I don’t know, but I just left him. They took us out here.”
    The rider’s expression was unreadable with his metal eyes. He stood and stared at the horizon.
    “Thanks for rescuing us. Who are you?”
    Price answered. “He’s Loki Stormbringer, Sergeant.” Price leaned close and whispered. “You remember—Jon Ross mentioned him.…”
    Sebeck did remember. The most powerful sorcerer on thedarknet. And almost as ruthless as the Major himself. Sebeck couldn’t help but think they deserved each other. He twisted to reveal his tied hands. “Can you please untie us, Loki?”
    Loki gazed at the horizon with his