A THOUSAND CRANES
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: The "Mountains of Madness," the Old Ones, and Abdul al- Hazred were created by H. P. Lovecraft

The Hounds of Tindalos were created by Frank Belknap Long.

The world was very old, older than even scientists knew, older than even Aku had known, very old with elder secrets in its depths, secrets that moved and muttered in those places where sunlight had never shone. Samurai Jack, the namesake of thousands of hospitals and schools, parks and buildings, had been to great heights and depths in his wanderings, but still there were things and places that even he had never beheld. In one of those places, deep beneath the Mountains of Madness, there dwelled Zankoku.

Aku had known Zankoku, and so, not wanting a challenge, he had always stayed well away from the dreaded Mountains, though he need not have worried. Zankoku was one of the Old Ones, and the Old Ones were patient. They were also wise. If Zankoku had challenged Aku, Aku and Samurai Jack would have dropped their own quarrel to unite against him, for Zankoku was Outside, and all things of Earth were opposed to his kind. So he had waited patiently for the Earth's two equally matched great powers, Aku and Samurai Jack, to kill each other.

The Old Ones were wise, but not omnipotent; Zankoku had slightly miscalculated. The two Earthly powers had not been quite equal after all; one had been a little stronger than the other, and so Aku had died at what Zankoku thought of as the four hands of Samurai Jack. The Old Ones had no concept of individuality. Had Zankoku devoted sufficient thought to the matter, his considerable intelligence might have come to grasp, in a hazy way, that Samurai Jack and Mad Jack were two separate humans, but he had never bothered to consider that, so to him, they were a bipartite creature, identical in bone and blood, DNA and soul.

Zankoku knew something of souls.

Deep in his lair, he worked his spell.

******************************************

The ceremonies for the sixth annual World Freedom Day were marked by an undertone of genuine joy, for finally the world was truly free, the last holdouts of the old, wicked regime having signed a treaty which Mad Jack had cheerfully presented to the assembled regents six days before World Freedom Day. His cheer had been genuine, too. Granted, he wouldn't get to fight much more, if ever, but on the other hand, now that countries were re- forming and once again managing their own affairs, his wife no longer had to try to manage the entire world, so all in all he felt he was still coming out ahead. Now Queen Kiku had only to manage that small portion of the world that was once again called Japan, and not even all of that; the mountainous areas fell under the sway of the various Highland clans. Hundreds of years ago, the Highlanders, who originally hailed from some place called "Scotland," had angered Aku, who had dumped them down into a country where they were utterly foreign, in the assumption they would wither there. The tough Highlanders had not obliged him; they had simply made themselves at home in their new mountains, eventually co-existing with their Japanese neighbors in a sort of mutual bemusement, each side believing the other to be as strange as they come. Mad Jack liked the Highlanders, himself. They had been a great help in the re-conquest of Aku's world. Mad Jack could fight like no one else in his time, but the myriad logistical details of running an army had been quite beyond him. It would have gone hard for him, and for the cause, if not for the brilliant organizational mind of Agatha MacNeal, the wife of Samurai Jack's great friend Colin. Mad Jack readily granted credit where it was due, and he made sure the Highlanders got their share of recognition at the ceremonies.

What with all the rejoicing, the ceremonies had been lively indeed. Queen Kiku gave up and went to bed early, since she had two-week-old Daisuke to take care of, but Mad Jack stayed up and partied with the other dignitaries until dawn. By the time he finally walked (not quite steadily) into his bedroom, the shadowy figures of Kiku and the nursing baby were clearly visible even without turning on the lamp. He glanced at the clock: it said 04:55.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Kiku asked as he set his swords on the rack. He burped, and she said, "I will take that as a Yes."

He went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, tossed his good kimono across the towel hamper. Then he got into bed. Kiku was burping the baby, whose wide red eyes regarded his father with the solemnity of the newborn.

"You've been here two weeks, it's time you earned your keep," Mad Jack said, stroking the tiny fist. "Tomorrow I will begin to teach you all my skills." Daisuke burped loudly. "Ah, you show promise."

"Now that we have peace, you'll have little to do but teach. Why don't you start up a training program for samurai that we can put into the schools?" Kiku suggested.

"If it still sounds like a good idea when I sober up, I will. If I can persuade Agatha to handle the administrative matters."

"She loves the idea."

"You asked her already? How could you be so sure that I would agree?"

Kiku smiled in the dawn.

"Hmmph!" Mad Jack said, and rolled over and went to sleep...

"Father! Mother! Wake up!"

Mad Jack squinted at the clock: 07:25. He had a confused impression that someone had been walking on his eyeballs.

"Wake up!"

"Ask your father," mumbled the queen of Japan.

"No! Wake up!" Five-year-old Kozuke climbed astride his father and began bouncing up and down on Mad Jack's hips. "Wake-up-wake-up-wake-up!"

Mad Jack squinted out the window, and the fuzzy thought crossed his fuzzy mind that the clock must be wrong, the sky didn't look like morning, even cloudy morning... He was distracted from considering the sky by Kozuke's small wooden katana whapping rhythmically against his leg. Kozuke had received his first set of little training swords last month, on his birthday, and, of course, he was wearing them, along with a "Samurai Jack" sweatshirt and his underwear. He had forgotten his pants, but he would never forget to put on the swords; he would have slept with them on if he could have come up with a way to do so.

Whap-whap-whap. The insistent demands to wake up continued, as did the bouncing. Mad Jack's stomach lurched. "Kozu-chan, stop that!"

Kozuke stopped bouncing. "Wake up! Father, wake up! Something's wrong!"

Blinking, Mad Jack sat up; the cat scampered off the futon. "What?"

"Something's wrong with the sky!" Kozuke pointed to the window. "What's wrong with the sky?"

Mad Jack looked, and roused immediately. Kozuke was right. Something was wrong with the sky. It was a sickly pus-yellow color with hints of green. He'd never seen anything like that in all his ten years of life, nor was there any such phenomenon in the Samurai Jack memories he still held.

"What's wrong?" Kozuke asked. "Why does the sky look like that?"

"I don't know, Kozu-chan," Mad Jack said, dialing the guard center as he spoke.

The screen popped on, showing a nervous-looking three-eyed alien. "General, have you noticed--"

"Yes, we have. What is it, a tornado?"

"No, sir, there's no bad weather for hundreds of miles. The Colonel's trying to decide whether to call a weather alert, and, if so, what kind."

"Tell her to go ahead and call a tornado alert; that'll get everyone underground without frightening them unduly. Report on the whatever-it-is every five minutes." Mad Jack rang off and shook Kiku's shoulder. "Kozu- chan, go get your shoes and come right back. And your pants. Hurry!" Kozuke ran out. "Kiku-chan, wake up, we're going to the basement now!" He got up and began putting on the clothes he'd worn yesterday before changing to formal wear.

Kiku was getting dressed. "I don't think that's a tornado."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. Evil-looking, though."

There were four sword racks in the room. Mad Jack grabbed the nearest set of swords to hand, which happened to include the katana he'd been born with, the one forged magically in the Pit of Hate. Later, he would wonder if his choice had been guided by the gods to whom Kiku prayed every day. Kozuke ran back in, and Mad Jack picked him up.

"Everybody says it's a tornado," Kozuke said. "What's a tornado?"

"Big wind. Tears up buildings and trees. That's why we're going to the basement to wait it out." Kiku had finished filling the diaper bag, and Mad Jack gave her a hand up--

--and there was a loud pop, and the three of them vanished. The noise startled the baby awake, and he cried alone for a few minutes until the guard, alarmed when the general didn't reply to the first five-minute status report, sent a detail to check on the royal quarters.
*********************************

The king of Portugal had sent across the sea a huge painting of himself, in which, for some odd gaijin reason, he had included his family. He had also sent a famous Portuguese artist, which seemed a strong hint that he expected a reciprocal gesture from the new shogun, Tokugawa Toshiro, who had taken over last month for his retiring father. After discussion between himself, his family, and his advisors, Toshiro had concluded that the return gesture ought to be exactly equal to what had been sent, and so he, his heavily pregnant wife Hiroko, and their five-year- old daughter Tetsuko were here in the Chrysanthemum Room today to sit for the famous artist, with samurai and court ladies lining the periphery of the room, watching the preparations with interest. Father Jesus, the Jesuit, was helping to interpret, since the artist spoke no Japanese and Toshiro was the only court member who understood any Portuguese.

Although Toshiro readily admitted that his Portuguese could most charitably be described as "basic," and although he respected honest, sincere Father Jesus, still the new shogun could have wished for another interpreter. The black-robed priest reminded him too much of the residents of a monastery he had met in a distant time, a time when he had been known as Samurai Jack, and he never liked to have anything remind him of those days. For the most part, his four years in the future had been a miserable, lonely, terrifying experience that he wished to forget.

The artist was saying something.

"Senhor da Cunha," Father Jesus said, "says his majesty will want to know if my lord is wearing his sword with which he saved the world?"

"No, I'm not. That sword--that sword is of--it--" Toshiro's limited Portugese failed him; he switched to Japanese. "That katana doesn't truly belong to me. It belongs to the people. Not only the people of this country, but all good people everywhere. I was entrusted to carry it for a certain purpose, and when with the help of the gods and my ancestors that purpose was accomplished, the katana went back to its place of honor; in fact, I have not so much as drawn it since Aku died." He considered. "I suppose if our friend the king wants to see it, I could put it on for the picture. He's a good and just king; I don't think it would mind sitting for him."

The artist looked pleased.

"Kazuo-san, please go get the magic katana," Toshiro said, and the samurai to whom he spoke bowed and left. Toshiro took off his own katana and set it on a table at the side of the room, out of the way. "Father, please ask the sensei where he'd like us to sit."

"He would like to know if my lord would be willing to go outside and pose under the maple."

That was fine with Toshiro. It was a nice September day, overcast but not too hot nor too cold. So they all put on their shoes and trooped outside, with Isao, one of the younger samurai, carrying the camp chair on which Hiroko would sit. When Kazuo returned with the sword, Toshiro put it on, and, following the artist's interpreted instructions, he sat on the ground slightly in front of Hiroko and to her right. While the artist pondered where to place little Tetsuko, the clouds thickened noticeably.

"If it were earlier in the year," Lady Akiko observed, "I'd fear that those were tornado clouds."

"It's getting quite dark," Hiroko agreed. "If the sensei doesn't make up his mind quickly, we may have to pose with umbrellas."

Tetsuko scampered around, the artist pondered, the sky darkened. The clouds were taking on an odd, almost yellowish cast. Had there been any wind Toshiro would have erred on the side of caution and ended the session, but since the air was absolutely still he decided it would be safe to wait until the rain began. The birds were still singing and the insects were still flying, including those annoying autumn yellow jackets. From four hard years out in the weather, he knew that people didn't need to become seriously alarmed until the animals gave warning. So he sat patiently and waited.

The artist spoke. Father Jesus said, "He'd like Tetsu-chan to stand right in front of her mother." She did. "Now to your right a little--"

"Which way is right?" Tetsuko asked.

"Towards Father," Hiroko said. Tetsuko stepped over.

"A little more," Father Jesus said, interpreting. "A little more--a little more--back the other way a little--no, too much--"

Tetsuko began to giggle, and Toshiro bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin.

"Tetsu-chan, don't laugh in front of the sensei!" Hiroko sounded as if she were suppressing chuckles. There was something about the bearded artist, frowning intently over the placement of a five-year-old, that made Toshiro wonder if he could manage to hold back his own chuckling much longer.

"More to the right, Tetsu-chan," Father Jesus said, and she moved over, pressing against Toshiro's left arm. "Good! Stop right there!"

Tetsuko giggled. A wasp buzzed. The sky darkened. The buzzing stopped.

"Don't move, my lord, there's a wasp on your head," Hiroko said, and he felt the light blow of her folded fan atop his head. "There, it's dead," she said, and brushed it off...

...and, as her fingers skimmed over his hair, the family vanished.
*********************************************

The light in the cavern, what little there was of it, was bilious green, giving an evil glare to the whites of the eyes of four of the six bewildered people who found themselves standing on a rock floor covered with loose shale. The other two people's eyes didn't have whites. The sclera of their eyes, normally glowing red, now shone an oddly menacing purple.

"Kuro-Jack-san? Kiku-san?" Toshiro said, squinting in the poor light.

"Jack-san? Is that you?" Mad Jack said. "Who are they?"

"My unworthy wife, Hiroko, and my useless child, Tetsuko," Toshiro said, and there were automatic little bows all around.

"That's my worthless son, Kozuke," Mad Jack said.

Toshiro couldn't see much of the little boy clinging to his mother's legs, except for his glowing eyes, but there was a very faint gleam that might have been teeth showing in a smile, so Toshiro smiled too and inclined his head. "Does anyone know where we are? Or when we are?"

No one did. The adults took stock of the situation. It was grim. They did not know where or when they were, nor how they had come here. The three adult samurai were but lightly armed, and one of them might go into labor at any time. They had no food, water, or first-aid supplies. Their children were in danger. Mad Jack's family was slightly better off in the matter of clothing, all three of them wearing jeans, sweatshirts, and sneakers, but nobody was really dressed to traverse rough terrain, and certainly not to go into combat, should combat occur. Toshiro and his family were all dressed up for their portrait, all of them wearing light shoes and beautifully stitched silk kimono, Hiroko's and Tetsuko's being elaborately embroidered for autumn. He estimated that the three of them together probably had at least four thousand koku on their backs. He would have gladly paid at least that much for three pairs of hiking boots, and paid everything he had to send his family home safely. The only remotely good thing about their predicament seemed to be that, as Kiku said, "Thank the gods I hadn't picked up the baby yet!"

The little boy with the glowing red eyes edged halfway out from behind his mother, looking at Toshiro in wonder. "You're Samurai Jack!"

"He's your greatest admirer," Kiku said.

Toshiro bowed, a little lower this time.

"Father," Tetsuko said nervously, "let's go home! It's dark here and it stinks!"

She was right. The place did stink, smelling of must and damp, with a troubling undertone of carrion.

"What is this place?" Tetsuko continued.

"I don't know, but you're right, we need to leave. You stay with Mother and Kuro-Jack-san and I will look for a door."

"I'll go that way," Mad Jack said, with a slight inclination of his head, and Toshiro walked over to the cave wall and started around the other way, going slowly and carefully, searching for a draft or a glimmer of outside light that would indicate a passageway. Behind him he heard mechanical clicks. Kiku was trying a phone, and explaining in a low voice to Hiroko what she was about.

"Any luck?" Toshiro said.

"Nothing," Kiku said. "And it's a field phone. We must be quite far underground."

"Or there's nobody left aboveground to hear you," Toshiro said. "Whatever it is, this disaster may have affected everyone, not only us." He continued on with his search. The longer he was in this cavern, the less he liked it. The walls were dry, no water rolling down; it was unnatural. Even more unnatural was the gray mold growing on the walls in this dry atmosphere, the mold giving off that eldritch light. Usually Toshiro enjoyed looking at cavern formations, but the ones here were singularly lacking in grace or beauty. Even the ones not covered with the mold were ugly. If, he thought, you could catch a group of demons by surprise and suddenly turn them into cavern formations, they'd end up looking like these.

And, he thought with growing unease, for all he knew, that was exactly what had happened here.

"This magical thing Kiku-san has," Hiroko said suddenly. "The phone. Can other people summon us with it?"

"They can if we get to where it'll work," Kiku said. "I'll leave it on."

Mad Jack said suddenly, "Take a look at this. Watch out for the loose shale." Walking carefully, the others joined him. He was crouching beside a slime-covered boulder, and as Hiroko approached he glanced up at her, smiling wryly. "Hell of a way to meet the in-laws, isn't it?"

"My lord has mentioned you once or twice." She regarded Mad Jack with interest. "You do look very much like him. He says that, in a sense, you are him."

"I think I'm an improvement on the original." Mad Jack stood up. "There's a draft here, and I think I see a passageway, but the smell seems to originate there. Do we try to move this rock, or do we leave well enough alone?"

"Maybe someone put the rock there to block the smell and whatever causes it." Hiroko thoughtfully poked her foot into the narrow passage. "It's a strange place for a rock to be by coincidence."

"That's what I was thinking," Mad Jack said. "But then again..."

"Then again," Toshiro said, "if we do nothing, we're likely to get very thirsty before we are found. If ever we are."

Kiku looked up. "We haven't tried the ceiling..."

"Too risky," Toshiro said. "If whoever climbed up there fell, we'd never get him out. I wouldn't try it yet."

Kozuke peeked out from behind Kiku. "I can fit through that crack, I'll go look."

"Oh, no, you won't!" his mother said firmly.

"I'm not afraid!" he said from behind her. "I'm a samurai!"

"I think we should all stay together for now," Toshiro said tactfully.

"That does raise the issue, though," Mad Jack said. "Even if we can move the rock, as far as I can tell that passage will only admit one person at a time, and it may narrow, or drop off, further on. Somebody will have to explore it. We can't all start down blindly."

"I'll go," Toshiro said.

"No, I'll go."

"No, I'll go."

"I said, I'll go!"

"I'll do it, you protect everyone else--"

"I'm going!"

"Toss a coin!" Kiku said impatiently, fishing one out of her pocket. "Here, Jack-san."

He squinted at it in the ugly light as something about it caught his eye. "Is that my face on there?"

"You're on the ten-yen, I'm on the five-yen," Mad Jack said.

"That's an improvement from when Aku was on all of them," Toshiro said. "Call it in the air."

"Tails," Mad Jack said.

"It's heads," Toshiro said, returning the coin. "Let's see if we can get this rock out of the way."

Hiroko kept the children well out of the way as the other three strained at the boulder. With much effort, they finally got the rock moved far enough that the men could squeeze in between the rock and the wall with bent knees and then straighten, pushing with their legs. That did it; the boulder finally rolled, with a surprisingly loud rumble.

"There's a man!" Tetsuko said, clinging tightly to her mother.

He had died prone. Whether the boulder had fallen on him and killed him, or whether he had already been dead, would never be known, but his crushed bones were bent backward in a U-shape. The gun that had been at his side was still holstered. Mad Jack cautiously drew it out and looked it over. "Good solid adamantium. It may work." He held the gun out to the women.

Kiku started to take it, then paused, deferring to the samurai beside her.

"Please, take it," Hiroko said. "I know how to fire a musket, but I've never seen a weapon like that." Kiku took the gun.

Mad Jack resumed searching the dead man. "Almost everything he had was top of the line...ah. Adamantium water bottle. We can use that." There were a few shreds of faded clothing and desiccated flesh still clinging to the rock. He opened a pocketknife, using the blade to carefully peel a scrap of cloth from the stone. He squinted at it in the poor light. "Aku's mon. This man was a minion. A highly placed minion, judging by his expensive gear."

The skeleton turned its head then, and Toshiro and Mad Jack both leaped back with startled yelps and drawn swords. The skeleton's jaws clacked. The children began to cry in fear. The skeleton seemed to be looking right at Toshiro as it clacked its jaws. Mad Jack started to attack, and Toshiro caught his shoulder. "Wait. He's not making any threatening moves."

"He's dead!" Mad Jack indignantly shook Toshiro's hand off. "Any move he makes is a threatening move!"

Clack, clack, clack, and somehow there was a pleading aspect to the hollow eye sockets.

"I want to hear what he has to say," Toshiro said.

Mad Jack glared at him. "And how will you do that, when he has no voice box?"

"Hold up one hand," Toshiro said. Mad Jack glared and didn't move. "Hiroko-san! Help me out."

She looked dubious, but stepped up obediently.

"Did you know he was that stupid when you married him?" Mad Jack asked her.

Toshiro ignored him. "Hold up your hand, Hiroko-san. Facing him." She did. He used his finger to "write" on her palm, pausing between characters. Can--we--help?

Dry cracking noises as the skeleton moved its bony arms to write on its own palm. The children were sobbing. Kiku tried to soothe them. Toshiro strained his eyes to see the characters the skeleton sketched out. It had written Great danger.

"There's an astounding revelation," Mad Jack said. "I am going to put a stop to this--"

"Don't make me fight you now," Toshiro said quietly, and then he said to the skeleton, "Go on."

I was Alric Bloodaxe.

"Really," Mad Jack said, interested despite himself. He shot a quick glance backwards. "Don't be afraid. I know who he is now, and I can take him if he causes any trouble."

"Who is he?" Toshiro asked. "Who was he?"

"I've read about him. He was a famous minion. Hundreds of years before you came he led Aku's forces in the important battle of O'Hare. There was a critical airport there."

"Airport?" Hiroko repeated.

"Flying palanquins," Toshiro explained. "Go on, Alric."

Aku feared me. I was gaining power. He sent me here and dropped this rock on me. I lived for four days. My soul is trapped here still.

Kiku was reading Alric's story to the children, and they were quieting as they listened, interest quelling fear.

He knew I never believed in him. I served him for the safety of my family. I think he was glad to have an excuse to send me to the Mountains of Madness and get rid of me.

Toshiro noticed that Kiku substituted "here" for "Mountains of Madness" as she read to the children, and so he asked carefully, "Is this place well known?"

"It is, and nothing good," Mad Jack said.

Some of the others who were sent here spoke of Samurai Jack before they died, and the great general Kuro-Jack. I know who you are. I thank you for avenging me.

They bowed.

"Is he a good spirit?" Tetsuko asked uncertainly.

"I guess he is, he's a friend of your father's," Hiroko replied.

Samurai Jack was the man I should have been. I should have had the courage to resist Aku regardless of the cost.

Toshiro glanced at his wife. "There are things a man will do for his family that he would never do for himself. I don't think we can criticize you since we have not been in your position."

"Why do you keep calling my father 'Samurai Jack'?" Tetsuko asked. "That's not his name!"

"At one time it was, Tetsu-chan," Toshiro replied.

That name gave hope and courage even to those who died here.

Toshiro bowed.

I will help you get out.

The women brightened.

"Setting aside the question of your sincerity, famous minion," Mad Jack said, "one is constrained to point out that a person in your condition might find it difficult to help anybody do anything."

Read the spell that will clothe me in flesh.

Hiroko looked even more dubious. "So sorry, sir, we know no such spell."

Look above you.

She looked up. "There's writing on the ceiling! It glows! How could we not have noticed it?"

"Strange things happen in the future," Toshiro said. He considered. Not wanting to take his eyes off Alric for very long, he continued, "Read the spell, Hiroko-san, and stay out of the way." He held his sword ready.

Hiroko read the spell, and children and adults alike stared in wonder as white light swirled around the skeleton. Presently the light died away. Before them there stood a blonde, blue-eyed gaijin man wearing gray hakama decorated with Aku's mon. Shale skittered as he bowed to the floor. He held the bow for a long time, then sat back on his heels and spoke in fluent Japanese. "Samurai Jack, you honor me with your presence."

"You speak the language very well, sir," Toshiro said.

"Aku taught it to all his higher minions. Japan was his center of operations, after all."

"A national disgrace that was remedied some years ago," Mad Jack said.

Alric looked from one to the other, smiling faintly. "Meeting you two is like having an an audience with George Washington or William Wallace. You're everything our time had forgotten--until you reminded us."

"Er--your gun--" Kiku began.

"Keep it until you trust me."

There was a slightly awkward pause.

"Well, get up, that loose rock can't be comfortable," Mad Jack said finally. "Now, you said you know the way out?"

"I do," Alric said, brushing off his front as he rose. "And that passage isn't it. It dead-ends not far down. I know because I tried it. And also, it's not as simple as just walking out. People are brought here for a reason. Since Aku is dead, the reason all of you were brought here must involve the Old Ones."

"Who?" Toshiro said.

"There's clean water not far from here. We'll go there and fill my bottle, and I'll explain, if we are given time. And while I'm on the subject of food and water, no matter how hungry you get, do not eat that mold. And make sure those children don't eat it."

Toshiro thought he would have to be very hungry indeed even to consider eating that foul mold.

"And now, follow me," Alric said, and led them across the cavern floor.