Dagger Magic

Closing his eyes, he concentrated for a moment, the blade of the Phurba pressed flat against his cheek; then the hand with the Phurba lashed out to strike the mummified skull of its previous owner. A bright flash left Raeburn blinded for a few seconds, only able to see in afterimage the outline of the bowed body engulfed in a white-hot flame that consumed all. When he could see properly again, only a fine powdering of white ash remained where the body had rested, and Kurkar was tucking the Phurba into the belt of his robe beside the other one.

"Now for the rest," the Phurba priest declared, as he turned back to the forward section of the control room.

There were four of the wooden crates shoved against the grey-painted bulkhead, each about a cubic foot in size, all with German eagles and SS markings boldly stencilled across them in red and black. With the boxes was a somewhat larger chest of brass-bound teakwood, its lid and sides intricately decorated with grotesque and fanciful carvings.

Smiling slightly, Kurkar approached the chest and lifted the lid. Though kept from Nagpo from approaching too close, Raeburn could see that the chest was full of Tibetan texts, each one swaddled in a band of green brocade. As Nagpo shone his light upon them, Kurkar lifted out the topmost one and deftly removed the wrapping. He let his fingers linger briefly over the pattern carved on the wooden cover, then turned to the first page inside.

The script was not unfamiliar. Raeburn had seen other examples of its type amongst the collection of manuscripts jealously guarded by a former superior, self-styled the Head-Master. Kurkar read out a phrase that Raeburn took to be a title. The dialect was one he had heard the Head-Master use in the pronouncement of certain arcane magical formulae.

Even this brief utterance had the effect of generating unsettling resonances throughout the long-dead air of the control room. The two Tibetans traded inscrutable smiles. Still smiling, Kurkar lowered the cover and replaced the wrapping before turning back to Raeburn.

"This chest and its contents do not concern you," he said in German. "Your present duty is to examine this vessel and ascertain to what extent it is operational."

The arrogance in the order was no less offensive for being delivered in a tone of cool indifference, but Raeburn made himself bite back his anger.

"It isn't operational at all," he said stiffly. "I told Dorje - ''

"Just do as you are told," Nagpo interrupted. "Or do you wish to dispute the matter?"

With a snort and a gesture of resigned disbelief, Raeburn gave up the argument and set about performing a survey of the boat's mechanicals. With the sub's vast running batteries as dead as her crew, none of the automatic gauges were registering, so he had to activate them manually to get a status reading. It was a time-consuming operation, but eventually he was able to determine, in theory, that the compressors and the diesels were still in working order.

"She has fuel enough left in the saddle tanks to get her moving, if she weren't sitting on the bottom," he reported to his Tibetan supervisors. "That aside, I must remind you that I can't initiate a first-start arrangement by myself - I told Dorje that. There are too many systems involved."

"How many crewmen will you require?" Kurkar asked, as if determining catering arrangements.

"Pretty much all of your 'skeleton crew,' " Raeburn said with some acerbity, still unconvinced that Dorje's boast had been legitimate. "The captain and exec, the chief engineer and his second, a couple of junior mechanics - I told Dorje what was needed. I still think it would be just as easy to take the crates to the dinghy and - "

Nagpo calmly held up a hand. "Rinpoche informed you correctly," he said. "This necessity has been anticipated. You will now leave us and wait outside. Remain well clear of the hatch. Our work will require no little concentration."

Much as he might resent such a cavalier dismissal, Raeburn knew there was nothing to be gained by questioning it. Biting back an acid remark that would be wasted, he turned on his heel and made for the ladder.

Back out on the conning tower, he wondered what it was that the Phurba priests were going to do. It was just possible that they might, indeed, be able to reanimate the crew - though doing it on such a scale was beyond Raeburn's ability. But reanimating a submarine was a different matter entirely. Dagger magic dealt with primitive animistic forces that were sometimes difficult to direct or contain. This being the case, Raeburn could not imagine how forces of this kind could be induced to interact harmoniously with such a complex product of technology as a submarine. By his reckoning, the very incongruity could be potentially very dangerous.