[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Genesis - A side story of Sic Semper
Morituri
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these stories.
C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments@worldnet.att.net
Stories are available in Rich Text Format and HTML at:
http://home.att.net/~danjess.gibson
(these are the most updated versions)
Stories are available in Plain ASCII at:
http://archives.eyrie.org/anime/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
ftp://ftp.cs.ubc.ca/pub/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
http://www.cs.ubc.ca/cgi-bin/ftp/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/type/Sic-Semp
er-Morituri
(these are the original versions)
Author's Note: this is the story Adam Smith, Maj. Alfred ggreg and Joma
told Nabiki aboard the U.S.S. Bennington in Chapter 38 (July 14, 1947)
Wer nie sein Brod mit Tra:nen ass
Wer nie die kummervollen Na:chte
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass,
Der kennt euch nicht,
ihr himmlischen Ma:chte
[Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate,
Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours
Weeping upon his bed has sate,
He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, book II, chpt. 13 - Johann Wolfgang von
Goethe
Longfellow's translation
Seeking with Soul the Land of the Greeks
Adam looked around the table aboard the U.S.S. Bennington, and began
his tale, "It was a beautiful late fall day in 1944. ggreg and I were
pursuing another case in the Boston area. Harvard had many books we needed,
but a horse race on the grounds would have attracted attention anyway."
----------------------------------------
"Five dollars on . . . "
"I'm sorry," Jeff interrupted the student, "The race has begun, the
book is closed. Better luck next time." Jeff took a moment to enjoy the
scene. Jenny and Lightning had made an early lead, now only one horse and
rider were even close. Jenny had brought Lightning back east to stud a few
Kentucky mares, and to see Jeff. She was on holiday from Northwestern and
was making next year's tuition. The 'Cliffie Girls' had been so cute in
their riding ensembles, Jenny had taken their challenges at face value and
had demanded a steeplechase course. Jeff and his allies had one laid out,
he'd led Lightning over the course while Jenny had narrowed the field to
eight contenders. Now the best was nearing the first turn, a huge oak tree.
Lightning lived up to his rodeo and barrel riding ribbons and crowded the
'Cliffie Girl's' gelding off course, then he ducked his head, taking the
blindfolded Jenny close to his neck and through a turn tight enough to draw
the envy of any fighter pilot in the world. Once clear, he thundered to the
next obstacle. The girl sawed her horse around and drove him, it actually,
around the tree as the pack thundered by.
"Boss, didn't we specify 'Around the outside'?" Lou Castilogni, one of
Jeff's `assistants` asked.
"We did, that fit of pique put her out of the running," Jeff answered.
Over a fence like the champion jumper he was, and enough warning to
Jenny she kept her seat easily throughout, slaloming through a stand of
trees, left, right, left and across the homestretch. Jeff now approached
the finish line. He held up a hand. Lightning obediently slowed to a
canter, and while the others lathered their mounts to catch up, Lightning
crossed the finish line. Jeff noted who finished where and jogged over to
the chalkboard where another of his assistants was recording the finish and
the odds to be paid. Almost nobody had bet on Jenny to win, once she'd
announced she'd beat these amateurs blindfolded.
Jeff stood on a chair so the others could see and hear him, "Ladies and
Gentlemen! I can't thank you enough for your generous contributions today.
For those of you who lost, console yourselves that the Red Cross and the
U.S.O. won. For the few of you who won," Jeff let the laughter build, then
subside, "Please pick up your War Bonds from the person to whom you gave
your money. I apologize that my estimate is sketchy, but I believe this
puts Harvard over the top again this month for contributions to the Red
Cross, the U.S.O. and the War Bond fund." Polite applause and a few cheers.
"I think you didn't hear. WE BEAT YALE AGAIN!" Vigorous hurrahs this time.
"For those of you who couldn't give green today, there's a blood drive
on Saturday near Administration, give them a pint of Crimson. If you can do
both, God Bless." Jeff climbed down, he saw the groundskeeper heading
towards him. Normally, after the damage the horses did to the manicured
lawns, he'd expect the man to have a hatchet or a pruning hook, but the man
played the ponies. Instead he'd get his pound of flesh a different way.
"Stuart, $10 on Jenny, to win."
"Thank you, Mr. Stuart." Jeff counted out $200 in War Bonds. "And."
He pulled ten from his own pocket, "Libation for you and your crew, after
the hard work we put you to. I will be checking on that."
"Ya donna trrust a fella Scot?"
"Aye, ah trust a fella Scot w'money. If the Brits really wanted to end
the war however possible, they'd tell the Scots the Hun would take all their
money. Germany would rapidly become a vast, empty hole."
"Aye," the groundskeeper said, looking at Jenny currying Lightning.
While the 'Cliffie Girls' were ignoring her, some of their more `horsy`
parents were talking to Jenny. "'Tis almost worthy the work tae see sic a
race."
"And its snobs get whirled aboot their noses?" Jeff asked.
The man left laughing.
One of the 'Cliffie Girls', still on her horse, approached. "The race
is invalid, she crowded me off course."
"Jenny was blindfolded," Jeff replied, You don't intimidate someone
with your horse if they can just reach up and grab the bridle. "The horse
cut you off himself." Jeff shrugged. "Take it as a compliment, you were
the only opponent worthy of the name."
She snorted and wheeled her horse away.
Not my fault you ride dumb horses, Jeff thought, then looked up,
Professor Samuels, it never rains, but it pours.
Jeff put a smile on, "Professor Samuels, Mr. Rivetti, how can I help
you?"
"I have two dollars coming."
"I'm sure Mr. Rivetti has two dollars in War Bonds, unless he was very
unwise."
"I want it in cash," Professor Samuels, Jeff's main nemesis on campus
told him.
Jeff knew it was a trap, and he'd long ago prepared a counterattack.
"You mean you want winnings in cash and not in War Bonds, Professor
Samuels?" Jeff used his `parade ground` voice which the assembled students
and faculty could clearly hear over the entire field.
"Keep your voice down!" Samuels hissed.
"Since you must be hard up for cash to make a request like that, I'll
pay you half-again what you're owed." Jeff handed him a small coin purse.
The professor triumphantly scuttled away. Angry looks and murmurs followed
the professor, already overly mindful of his position and public opinion,
words would hit him where it really hurt. Jeff spotted MacMurphy, the huge
man slowly bulling his way through the crowd, "Excuse me."
"But, Boss . . . ," Tony Rivetti protested.
Jeff caught MacMurphy's arm, "Just where are you going, Mister
MacMurphy?"
"I heard what you said, Mister Davis. Everybody on campus probably
did. He can't get away with that."
"Mister MacMurphy, you still owe $30 from last week's poker game," Jeff
said quietly, "That sum came due, yesterday."
"Yeah, well, I'm kind of, short, not enough liquidity."
Too much, considering where the man's money had gone, Jeff considered,
"I would be willing to extend the note to say, next Wednesday, when your
allowance comes in. In return, I want you to take no action against the
good Professor, you and your circle will see to it no one else does either."
"But Jeff," the huge man protested.
"Mister MACMURPHY. I have already settled accounts. Thirty pieces of
silver is the traditional payment for such behavior, the account is paid in
full."
The big man's face cracked a huge smile, "Pleasure doing business,
_Mister_ Davis."
----------------------------------------
Jeff was tallying up the accounts and closing out his `assistants'`
cash boxes and account books. Rivetti, normally among the first, was
waiting in the rear, fidgeting. "Mister Rivetti, if you are standing on a
hot plate, you should desist," Jeff commented, "You'll ruin your shoes."
"Boss, I'd like an advance."
Jeff glanced over the top of his glasses, and kept counting,
"Continue."
"Well, I met a girl, there's a really good Italian seafood restaurant,
but it's expensive."
Jeff began counting the cash in Rivetti's box, "Jenny Davis, correct,
Mister Rivetti?"
"How'd you know?"
Jeff made a stack of bills, and a notation in his account book. "You
and I are much alike, sir. We prefer women who appear to be more trouble
than they're worth, but are actually of greater worth." He began counting
the coins. "My cousin is that kind of girl. And Mister Rivetti?"
"Yes, Boss."
"Do you remember Mister Sullivan's unfortunate encounter with me as a
sophomore?"
"I don't think I'll ever forget it."
"Jenny is one of the people who taught me how to fight."
"Boss!" the implication offended Rivetti, "I will be a complete
gentleman at all times!"
Jeff checked his ledger against his count, letting Rivetti sweat a few
moments. "I know you are, she may not want you to be at all times a
gentleman. Jenny is an intoxicating and very independent woman. She is not
just Family as you understand it, that isn't meant as a slur, but a point of
reference. She is also Clan, I have no desire to have a reason to explain
the difference to you." He opened his wallet, extracted two fifties,
"Advance denied." He offered the bills to Rivetti, "Standard rates. Are we
hearing one another?"
"Yes, sir." Rivetti gingerly took the loan, "Carriage ride then?"
"No, she'll want to drive. The carnival, games of skill, roller
coasters, and such."
"Yes Boss . . . Mister Davis?"
"Mister Rivetti," Jeff said in a lighter tone.
"There are times, I'm glad you're not Italian."
"Thank you, Mister Rivetti, have an enjoyable time."
----------------------------------------
"Looking after my purity?" Jenny teased Jeff as they headed for his
room with the ledgers and the day's `take`.
"Your purity is your concern. I intend it to stay that way."
"Thanks for the race, it let me blow the cobwebs out of my head and
show off Lightning."
"Worried about graduating early?" Jeff teased back, "Without your
M.R.S. degree?"
That earned him a poke, "You should learn to respect your elders."
"Even maiden cousins? No, Rivetti is a good man. His family is as
shady as they come, I think he'd jump at the chance _not_ to go into the
family business."
"Is that why you arranged the guards? That somebody might steal
Lightning?" Jenny asked.
"No, the privileged may not take being beaten by a commoner, and they
may take it out on the horse. Lightning's already killed one fool who tried
that back in Wyoming, I'd rather it not happen here. Besides, I like the
money that he brings in also."
"Well, if Lightning keeps bringing in those fees, I'll be able to
afford a ranch of my own." Her head came up, "Uncle."
Jeff looked at his uncle's stern face and realized he'd have some
explaining to do.
"Jenny, good to see you, you have a date, so we'll talk later. Mister
Davis."
"Yes, Dean Davis, should I bring the ledgers?"
"I think you might."
"In trouble again," Jenny teased.
"My natural condition."
----------------------------------------
In the Dean's office, a British and a Chinese gentleman in suits were
awaiting him. The Dean indicated for Jeff to surrender the ledgers to the
Chinese man, who began going over them with an abacus.
"Professor Samuels was - _quite_ - embarrassed by your performance this
afternoon."
"I reasoned that being publicly ridiculed was better than being
privately pummeled. A number of persons seemed eager to express their
displeasure in a way that would evade misinterpretation."
"Thirty dimes, three dollars," the British man spoke, Jeff couldn't
place the exact accent, "I don't get the reference."
"Thirty pieces of silver. Thirty silver dimes," the Dean supplied.
"A wicked sharp barb," the British man nodded.
"You might interest, Captain Grey was it?" the Dean said.
"ggreg, three lowercase gees total, two in front."
"In your excuse for your `activities,`" the Dean said with distaste.
Jeff respected his uncle too much to blurt out 'To make money,' so he
launched into his practical answer, "The forbidden is always attractive,
what only seems forbidden holds its attraction as well. At sporting events,
at hard-fought debates, there are those wishing to test their acumen against
others in predicting the outcome, friendly wagers are made. As it
contravenes laws, such a thing would never be done at Harvard."
Both the Captain and the Dean nodded solemnly.
Jeff continued, "But the human impulse remains. The system I devised:
a `bettor`, let's use the word for convenience at the cost of accuracy,
makes the wager with the booking agent. If the bet pays off, the `bettor`
is paid, in War Bonds. Guaranteed pay by the U.S. Government. Therefore,
allowing an enjoyable activity and encouraged by the faint whiff of
immorality, the `bettors` who place their money with me . . . "
"Ninety-seven thousand dollars for this month! You took in $97,000,"
the Chinese man shouted excitedly.
"That's throughput," Jeff countered, "Total input, total output. Take
a look at the previous end of month disbursements. Besides, Yale _and_
Cornell were going all out to beat us, I _had_ to step up my `activities.`
This month was not typical."
"Salary, U.S.O., Red Cross, and there is almost nothing left."
"True, as I was saying, those that lose, know their money is going to
the Red Cross and the U.S.O., to support our boys, and girls, overseas.
I'll freely admit, it is a cynical way to shake people down for donations,
but it's all done with the best intentions on all sides."
"How much do you keep?" the Captain asked.
"Half of what a registered bond seller would get for his efforts. I
need food, to pay rent, and tuition. If the government is willing to let
others make money, I'll take half that and consider the good I'm doing."
"A somewhat Machiavellian scheme. I take it Professor Samuels takes
offense?" the Captain asked.
"Indeed, he is a typical fraud, decrying the flaws of others while
secretly indulging his own. He has had Dean Davis, the Dean of the Business
School, and several government officials go over my books, certain I am
enriching myself at the expense of Harvard's good name. I don't need to, I
live modestly, I am two and a half years from graduating, I've already
published works and the Alumni are well aware who has been masterminding our
efforts to keep ahead of Yale in student donations to the war effort. War
or no war, some rivalries are eternal."
"Cambridge and Oxford," the Captain admitted. "We came here to do some
research and frankly we think you can help us on that end. Since you are a
patriot, which is what we needed to know, I can tell you the work is for the
OSS and it is top secret."
"I'm ready and able to serve," Jeff said.
"Some of your, `colleagues'` connections may also be necessary."
"Considering that, disreputable, is the politest thing I've heard said
about my associates, I find that curious and a little disquieting."
"You don't trust them?" the Chinese man asked.
"I trust them with the collection and not to steal from the monies we
collect, but that's patriotism on their part. I doubt I'd fully trust them
to manage my personal assets or my stock portfolio."
"What we'll need is definitely help of the patriotic variety, and
someone said, 'Troubled spirits are the ones you want when trouble comes.'"
The Chinese man said.
----------------------------------------
A Useless Life Is An Early Death
"You said it," Jeff interrupted Adam's story, as he put aside the bowl
of rice and gave Adam an appraising look, "Are you going to tell her
everything that happened that week? Is that wise?"
"She is your wife, she needs to know these things."
"We are not married," Jeff said again, with fading patience.
"You live in the same house, you do the chores, you wash _all_ of each
others clothing, she wants to give you babies - "
"Adam!" Jeff snapped, "One more _word_ down that road, and the 'Garden
where I'll help the flowers grow,' you'll get it, only you'll be helping
them from underneath. Am I making myself clear?"
"Adam, desist," ggreg urged.
"She needs to . . . "
"Are. We. Clear?" Jeff was stroking his thumbs across the tips of his
fingers.
Adam paled as he stared. "Very clear."
"Good." Jeff sat back, after pouring everyone more tea.
"The girl needs to know what happened, especially in reference to what
happened in San Francisco," Joma added reasonably, "She tried to follow you
into danger. That speaks highly of her feelings."
"All I did was take some pictures." Nabiki blushed.
"Very well," Jeff relented. Deciding not to risk Jeff's reaction to
Adam's embellishments, ggreg took up the story.
----------------------------------------
"I'm surprised they allowed you down here." Jeff scanned the page of
the ancient tome in the glove box, he turned a page with the padded forceps.
"I've only managed to slip down here twice. And did I get in trouble.
There is a college in Rhode Island that may have more of what you are
looking for." (1)
"They wouldn't have you." the Chinese man said from the book he was
reading.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jeff wished he were carrying his
pistol.
"Your training with Black Eagle is known to us. Also your delvings
into the Field Museum in Chicago," ggreg told him, while going through a
series of pamphlets from the last century.
How'd they find out about that? Jeff wondered, _Very_ few people knew
both stories, and all can keep a secret. Jeff's eye caught the notations on
the page, "I've got something." He automatically translated the Latin of
the Necronomicon into the Chinese symbols the Chinese man had showed him.
"Useless. They mistranslated it along the way, maybe even from the original
Arabic."
"But these almost correspond to the inscriptions," the Chinese man said
excitedly, peering over Jeff's shoulder.
"However, the relevant commentary is gibberish, or at least a fanciful
interpolation. I wouldn't stick my neck out over what is written here."
"Does that other place have a better copy?" ggreg asked.
"Yes and no. They probably do, they probably won't let you see it."
Jeff paused, weighing how far he could trust them. "There is another copy
on campus, much older and probably accurate."
"Let's go see it," Adam said.
"You know any magic words to toss a marine out of his own dorm at 23:00
hours? I don't," Jeff admitted.
"Does he know about your father?" ggreg asked.
Jeff grimaced. "Yes. He was there when I got the telegram."
"Leave it to us," ggreg said.
"Just so I don't have to be in the room," Jeff said.
----------------------------------------
Malkowitz patted Jeff on the head as he went out and Jeff went in. The
look of grim determination and the white knuckle grip on the baseball bat
were in stark contrast to the man's disheveled clothes. The ex-marine
pulled the door closed behind him and rolled his wheelchair to his station
in front of the door. No one was going to get past him.
"Do I want to know what you told him?"
"Not until you're ready," ggreg said. Jeff pulled a stereo microscope
and a box of film strips from his closet. He paged through them, until he
found the one he was looking for, it went on the microscope stage. Careful
focusing.
"There, does that look like what you were describing? It looks like
the Kabbalah or the Tree of Life, but the 400 odd symbols are different and
the connections have there own notations." Jeff told ggreg while the
Chinese man stared through the microscope.
"Exactly," the Chinese man squinted through the eyepiece, he reached
for a stronger lens, Jeff slapped his hand away, "My scope, my copy, my
rules. Besides, it's not out of focus, you can't read the descriptions."
"Why not?" the Chinese man said irritatedly. Jeff said something in a
language neither of the newcomers understood.
"You don't understand the language. I do." Jeff displaced the man and
changed lenses to read the sections of the page, making notes. "'Forty
runes and twenty-two elements bringing the whole. Balance within, balance
between, balance without.' And all the runes and elements are named, their
powers delineated, I'm not going through all of them unless you need me to."
"No, does it describe how the runes and elements came to this world?"
the Chinese man asked.
Jeff went back to scanning the page, moving the microscope stage as
necessary. Minutes then an hour crawled by, Jeff changing film strips as
necessary. "Dragon Kings? Beings from beyond the stars are 'coupled', it
could mean bred with or possessed, dragons to form something new. They drew
their strength and sustenance from the runes and the balance among the
elements. There's more."
"Does it give any clue what could defeat one of them?"
Jeff stared through the eyepieces, occasionally changing filmstrips,
until the lightening of the sky could be seen, occasionally making notes on
what he read. "One of their own, an imbalance in the runes and elements.
What I keep coming up with is a keystone. One rune or element typifies each
Dragon King, and an attacker can remove the rune or supercharge it to defeat
him. Immortal, but trapped. Caught in the maelstrom of its own strength
and opposing natures."
"Very useful, all we need do is discern which rune or element and
duplicate it," ggreg said.
Jeff stretched in the chair, "Twenty-two elements, most not
corresponding directly to the five elements of Greek philosophy or the five
eastern elements." Jeff yawned, it had been grueling.
"Five?" the Chinese man asked.
"Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Quintessence, the highest and purest of
all, these elements have the basic Greek form and combinations of them, and
manifestations of Newtonian Forces, but they also have Elements I've never
heard of and the runes are all over the board. Some even duplicate the
elements. Trying to keep the whole in balance would give the best power,
knock out the right prop and you should weaken the whole. Let me get some
sleep and go over my notes, and I should be able to find a universal weak
spot. It won't be kryptonite, holy water, or kill'em dead, but it should
weaken it to allow someone to go for the kill."
----------------------------------------
Jeff walked through the camp in the Dreamlands, it was laid out like a
Roman camp, so it wasn't difficult to find the Meliorist's tent. The
sentries had recognized him and passed him along, after verifying he was who
he appeared to be.
"Knock, knock?" he said before entering. Langley the Meliorist sat
behind a camp desk, mired by the paperwork that always seemed to keep him
out of the field, except when he and his staff could make strenuous efforts.
Which they rarely seemed willing to, for a host of reasons. He suspected
that they didn't like him risking himself.
She looked up. "Well, Jeffery Kevin Davis, the Scholarly Dragon, as I
live and breathe. To what do I owe this honor?"
"Langley, what is this?" he asked, "You said you'd be gone two months,
it's been almost four. I need my cavalry commander and my chief of scouts
back."
"Are you sure of that?" Langley sighed and turned away. "You have to
know what's going on in the Waking World. For your side the war's going
great, but I've become a liability."
"Why don't you leave the political end to me?" Jeff replied, "That's
always worked out. I bet you can't name one Red Dragon who wouldn't back
you up or follow your orders. A few loud mouths don't make policy."
"That isn't it either."
"Fine, I'm an idiot, you've always said so. Explain it to me in words
of one syllable."
Langley sighed, walked over to her camp bed and sat down. Jeff sat
next to her, she settled into his arms, holding him so tightly he feared he
might not be able to breathe. He knew she wouldn't cry, but he knew she
desperately wanted to. They'd done this before, and he'd been the one who
needed Langley solidity on a few occasions as well, most notably when Samuel
had died. That they hadn't taken 'the next step', after several decades of
this kind of intimacy, frustrated a number of matchmakers they had known.
But it wouldn't feel right to either of them. She broke away a few minutes
later, sniffled as she looked at him. He hated seeing her like this.
"I can take care of myself in the council chambers," he told her,
"Besides, you remember what happened to the last knight who underestimated
my swordsmanship."
Langley guffawed once, both remembered the `mere mage` chasing a
howling knight around and beating him silly when the man finally collapsed.
He wasn't able to sit a horse for months, and no healer would cure him.
"Okay, but I just want this war over before the Waking World's."
"All right, now the truth is out. You know full well, I'll get you out
if things go badly. I'm well aware of what the Soviets were doing to the
Russians, the Ukrainians and the Cossacks even before the German Invasion."
"You don't have those kinds of contacts," Langley said as she stood,
"Not in the Waking World."
"Oh, you'd be surprised. It's getting Unit 02 away from the Soviets
that worries me."
"That's easy, you'll be able to _buy_ it from them. Very greedy, your
dedicated Socialist," Langley scoffed, "Our best intelligence tells us what
we've been searching for is here somewhere."
"I think I can help with that," Jeff said as he extracted a map tube
from his pack, "On the condition that you agree to return once you have the
weapon, those aren't just my conditions, but the archivist, Alwyk and
Altara's too."
"That's not fair."
"Your word." He paused with his hand on the cap of the map tube,
staring at her.
"Anna! Quit eavesdropping and get in here!" Langley yelled.
Anna walked in sheepishly. "I'd hardly be a good scout if I didn't
stay close to the real action."
"Your word," Jeff repeated.
"Witness," Langley commanded, "I, Asuka Soryu Langley, the Knight of
Celephais called the Meliorist, vow that once we have recovered the weapon,
I and my command will return to the duties as deputy commander of the Red
Dragons," she swore in German. "Good enough?"
"Yes." Jeff removed and unrolled the map. "Here, just two miles away.
In these hills, that's where you should find the target. It's called the
Daimorigon. The literal translation is Fear of Dragon, interesting it isn't
Fear of the Dragon. Here are some notes on the guardian beast. I don't
think a couple hundred knights, lancers and horsebowmen will be enough. I
can have a dozen dragons - "
"No!" Langley said quietly, "Old friend, _I_ have to do this. I have
to end this on my terms. While I appreciate your desire to help, and your
impatience, I have to do this my way."
"Very well," Jeff said, "I take it you don't object to one itinerant
wizard assisting you."
Langley smiled, "Well, you'll have to prove you can use a sword, but I
think we can find a place at the mess for you."
"I suspect they could get above the cave, draw the guardian out, and
catch it with a rockfall. The archers and lancers can finish it off," he
suggested.
"Any wonder why we keep him around?" Anna asked.
"I'll let you read over the material, I'm going to walk around."
"The sawbones are in the usual place," Langley said as she studied the
map and the papers, "I know you, you ole' S-Dragon."
----------------------------------------
Outside, Anna followed the ole' S-Dragon. "I'm glad you came. She's
been . . . she's taking what's happening in the Waking World very
personally. You know her."
"Yes I do. I can understand her frustration. Of more immediate
concern, that monster's latest attacks have been weaker, that either means
he's building up to something, or we're finally winning. The Dragon Council
has agreed to add more combat dragons. We might actually be able to take
the offensive, if this weapon is half as effective as the legends put it, we
_may_ actually be seeing the end."
"You know she'll never get credit for it." Anna scuffed the ground.
"You really think she cares about that?" Jeff asked in reply, "Besides,
if the war does end, with her help, she'll have written herself into the
history books. And we both know how she feels about that. The King knows
she's no Nazi, despite anything anyone in Germany says."
"I guess." Anna walked alongside him in silence.
----------------------------------------
Without Haste, But Without Rest
The gentle shake awoke Jeff. He pulled on his wire-rimmed glasses and
looked at the concerned face that seemed to fill his dorm room. Right,
Harvard, October 1944, he thought quickly.
"They took her," Rivetti said without preamble, "Snatched her right out
of her crib, the bastards."
"Language, Mister Rivetti." Jeff struggled to wake up. "And some
details, you know enough to use pronouns, I don't."
"My little cousin, Lucia, not even 18 months old, the Castilogni's
practically left their signatures."
"The police?" Jeff knew it was a dumb question.
"Of course not, this is familia." The brief lapse into Italian said it
all.
Captain ggreg and the Chinese man entered with tea and some fried egg
sandwiches, Jeff could smell both.
"Interesting development, the Rivetti's young daughter has been
kidnaped. Evidence points to the Castilogni family. For some tea and one
of those sandwiches, I'll tell you _why_ it's so interesting."
ggreg quickly handed them over.
"The patriarchs of the Rivetti and Castilogni families are great
collectors, competitors, for oriental objects d' art," Jeff told them
between bites, "The elder Mister Rivetti likes jade and puzzles, the elder
Mister Castilogni likes dragons. Guess what they nearly came to blows over,
about eight months ago?"
"They kidnaped Lucia to trade her for the dragon statue?" Rivetti
couldn't believe what he'd just said.
"No lad. Someone else kidnaped the girl," ggreg said in a faraway
voice, "Someone who wants your two families to fight, while they steal the
dragon in the confusion."
"Who'd do that?" Malkowitz asked.
"Do you really want to know?" Jeff asked.
"How come the hair on the back of my neck stands up every time he says
that?" Malkowitz asked, "No, I don't want to know if you're using that
tome."
"Good man," Jeff gulped down the tea, "Captain, sir, Mister Rivetti, I
think -"
"He does, that's his worst feature," Sharon stuck her head in the room,
there was little room for anyone else. Jason was behind her. Jeff decided
if he were going to hold staff meetings, he was going to need a bigger dorm
room. "We heard your sister was in town, we thought - we'd hoped we'd
interrogate her and discover all your darkest secrets." Sharon grinned.
The grin worked on everyone except Jeff, which seemed to intrigue her no
end. Jeff could never get over that he and only he either noticed or was
bothered that the girl cast no shadow. He'd seen weirder things, but that
one bothered him, as both a scientist and a mage.
"I'm a wizard in the service of dragons," Jeff supplied.
Everyone laughed at that, although Jeff frowned. "I need a shower in
any case. Mister Rivetti was with Jenny, he knows where he dropped her off.
Sharon Lauren and Jason Bornston, my nemesis and Sisyphus rock,
respectively."
"He's so kind," Jason said, then whispered loudly, "Did he just insult
us?"
"Yes, I believe he did insult _you_," Sharon commented.
"Captain Alfred ggreg of His Majesty's forces, and . . . "
"Adam Smith," the Chinese man said.
Jeff just rolled his eyes at that. "I'm going to get a shower and then
to work, Mister Rivetti can tell you where Jenny is. I'll let her deal with
you two. You do know how they make haggis, don't you?" He left the room.
----------------------------------------
The quartet of Jeff, Rivetti, ggreg and Adam walked toward the Rivetti
home. The streets were wide, well kept.
How unlike London, ggreg thought as he admired the manicured lawns and
gardens. He didn't begrudge that the war hadn't touched here yet, but he
did resent that England was bearing the brunt of the German's fury on the
Western Front. The V-weapons seemed to be killing more civilians than they
were killing soldiers in the field.
"I don't know how you came to that conclusion," Adam said.
"I'm guessing," Jeff admitted, "But I finally remembered where I'd seen
some of those symbols, it's on the base the dragon rests on. There were
other characters and I didn't recognize all of them, now I recognize them."
"Oh boy," ggreg commented.
"What are you three talking about?" Rivetti asked desperately.
"The person who may have stolen your little cousin thinks he's a
wizard. So the ancient device will be useful."
"So she was kidnaped by a nut," Rivetti commented.
"Very likely," ggreg said as Rivetti opened the door for them, "Better
to hurry and get her back."
"Just what are you playing at?" ggreg asked in Chinese.
"We'll need gunners if we're going to attack that thing, they have
followers, that means we'll need soldiers or the equivalent."
----------------------------------------
The Rivetti patriarch stared at the odd collection of people entering
his study. The women in the house were going crazy at the loss, many were
demanding he do various things. He'd retreated to the dark-paneled, private
and quiet room to think. That little Antonio would bring people in, to
invade his study, the boy would be seriously punished. Brother's son or
not.
"Uncle, I hate to bother you."
"If it's about the girl, I don't want to hear it," the elder Rivetti
growled.
"Sir, we'd like to see the jade dragon, the one on the movable
concentric rings," the tall British gent said, then introduced himself and
his friend, "Captain ggreg and Adam Smith, in service to the Crown."
The man frowned and stood up, leading them to the cabinet, opening the
wooden shutters. He remembered the stories of how eccentric his nephew's
young friend was. "There it is."
The newcomers looked into the locked glass cabinet at the rampant
dragon carved out of a single piece of Imperial jade. He stepped away and
motioned his nephew over. "What is this?" he asked in Italian.
"They think someone is trying to steal the dragon, not the
Castilognis."
"Nonsense," the man roared, "We have old man Castilogni's lighter, the
fool dropped it." Then he realized he'd been shouting in Italian.
"Even _I_ know what the man's lighter looks like, making a duplicate
would be simplicity itself," Davis commented in surprisingly good Italian,
"I believe this is a case of 'Let's you and him fight.'"
There was something wrong with the boy's eyes as he stared. They were
old and hard, like the eyes that stared at the older man in the mirror every
morning. "Explain," the old man coldly demanded.
"Captain ggreg and Mister `Smith` came here to investigate the theft of
something, your dragon qualifies as that something. Someone means to steal
it from you."
"THOSE - !" he remembered his manners, switched to English, "Those . .
. gentlemen . . . you were investigating, they'd steal my little one, to get
this thing?" he asked in a barely controlled voice.
"Yes," the tall Brit said, "And pit you against Castilogni to further
the deception."
"I'll go meet with my colleague in the Castilogni household. I somehow
doubt that Mister Castilogni will appreciate being cast in the role of
kidnapper, especially of a child."
The man nodded, you could do a lot to adults, but you didn't touch the
kids. It was bad for business, made things too personal.
"When I find these . . . well, you can guess."
"I believe I'd be willing to hold him down," Davis offered, "And
provide the blowtorch and pliers."
The man shuddered at that. "My nephew is right, you're a nasty piece
of work."
"I'm a patriot, sir," Davis replied coolly, "I understand you are the
same. What we are facing, well, some of your more recent emigres know from
first hand experience."
The man nodded and dismissed them, glad he could be alone with his
thoughts. Castilogni's and his, he smiled at that. Davis at least
understood sometime, you had to go back to the Old Ways. "Pliers _and_ a
blowtorch." He shuddered at that.
----------------------------------------
"Do you really believe you can enlist Castilogni as well?" ggreg asked.
He found Davis's control over Rivetti the elder a little too 'Deus ex
Machina' for his piece of mind.
"Shaman," Adam said, "You know what drives and pushes the family, then
what manipulates the man."
"Very good," Davis said, "Although I'm not a typical shaman."
"How different?" Adam switched to Chinese.
"I have an affinity for dragons, their minds, their spirits. Messrs.
Rivetti and Castilogni are like them, a veneer of manners and sophistication
over the brute power, cunning, greed and viciousness of an animal."
"Any luck in summoning a dragon?" ggreg joked.
"Only if you have a squadron of fighter-bombers or a battalion of tanks
handy. They're notoriously hard to get rid of. Also due to the current,
outright ban on private gold ownership, I doubt anywhere short of Fort Knox
would be a suitable nesting site."
ggreg kept silent as they walked to the next house, he noticed the few
guards that watched, mostly they watched other guards. He was sure he could
have penetrated the pitiful defenses and taken anything he wished, from
flowers to silver, he felt slightly unclean dealing with these people.
He smirked, At least I'm not having to deal with the Irish gangsters,
he thought of the rumrunner who'd briefly been the American Ambassador to
the Court of St. James. He wondered who he'd bribed with his money to buy
that kind of respectability, Not that it did him any good, ggreg reminded
himself that the man and his pro-Nazi comments had probably mortified his
patron.
The Castilogni's were also a camp preparing for war, as the Rivetti's
had been. He was shocked that Davis also knew someone here, and was able to
talk his way, without complaint, into an escort into the presence and a look
at the holy of holies.
Dragon indeed, ggreg thought it was a good analogy, the man had the
superior attitude and the serpentine charm. In the magpie's collection of
Chinese artifacts were two small tablets, each with a very familiar carving.
"Is this what I think it is?" ggreg asked quietly.
Adam nodded slightly. ggreg hadn't memorized the pattern , but the
pair of tablets displayed the same runes facing each other on one, and
opposed on the other, like p and q or E and 3 for one, and 9 and 6 for the
other. He didn't know exactly what they signified, but reminded him of
twins, identical and fraternal. He suspected that the enemy would strike
here as well, once the defenders had been thinned a bit. Accomplishing this
by deploying for combat or by casualties, depending on how patient their
enemy was. If the cultists were running the show, they could be extremely
impatient, the beasties could be terribly patient.
The trio took their leave in the early evening.
"Why didn't the creature just walk in and take them?" Davis asked, the
very question that had been bothering ggreg, "The security was not adequate
to protect something so dangerous."
Adam shook his head. "There is no answer, they might not know, it may
not be the correct rune, there may be some barrier we aren't aware of."
"You're guessing, old man," ggreg commented dryly.
"Also important," Adam said, "Where can we get an early supper, it's
past tea time, but the Crown will forgive me."
----------------------------------------
With the sunlight fading into twilight, they hadn't gotten any closer
to the answers. Jeff was eager to get back, he was tired and wanted to get
some sleep before he delved into the Dreamlands. He hadn't worked out what
was really bothering Langley. He had some guesses, but the hypotheses were
almost too complicated for his conscious mind to solve. His subconscious
would probably give him the answers to both questions, if he could give it
some time to work on it.
The sudden disappearance of the other evening revelers alerted Jeff.
The autumn evenings were a favorite of the people after the long, hot
summer. He carried a walking stick, to disguise what it represented and
after a horse kicked him. As well as because it was the weapon of a
savateur.
The shadowy figures appeared out of the darkness around them. One,
much larger than the others, pushed to the front. The huge man had a
demonic mask over his face.
Or it's not a mask, Jeff thought as he peered more closely, Or is it a
man? Jeff realized the `man` wasn't human, and might not even be alive.
Its presence wasn't human.
Adam raised his hand while chanting. A brilliant burst of light
flared, erasing the shadows, and leaving them with only the largest `man`.
Captain ggreg drew a pistol and fired several shots into the man, who
weathered them without a sound or reaction.
Then he charged.
Jeff took careful aim with his cane, as ggreg dodged out of the way.
Jeff fired. The weapon looked like the death ray of the movie serials, a
bar of blinding white light, striking the man full in the face. The man
staggered back, seemingly with no ill effects, then looked around and ran
off.
"A dragon's breath round," ggreg said as he looked up, "Damned
unsporting."
"There was no magic, and no hint of a dragon," Adam commented, "You
have dragons on the brain."
"Thermite and white phosphorus," Jeff explained, "It bursts into flame
on contact with air, a poor man's flamethrower."
"Shouldn't it have done more than blinded him?" ggreg asked.
"If he were flesh of any kind, he should have burned. Thermite can be
used for welding, that's nearly 3000 degrees," Jeff replied.
"If we go up against that . . . creature," ggreg said, "What would make
my day is a more powerful handgun. One for hunting rogue Packards."
"Might as well wish for a bazooka, or a tank," Jeff replied, "I think
that's enough fun for one day, I'm heading back to Harvard, can I escort
your two to your lodgings?"
"No, thank you," Adam said, "We've still got some work to do."
----------------------------------------
Jeff walked alone through the campus, he didn't like to think about why
the enemy was getting so bold, but they hadn't broken the wards around the
dorm, so he continued on up. The sergeant was out, Jeff could get to work.
The trance came almost as soon as he sat down. The spirit realm looked
as it always did, gray clouds and nothing that even an experienced shaman
could really clearly discern. The drumming he did, drew two spirits who
regularly served him. One was an urchin who froze to death in early
Victorian London, but still enjoyed spying on the living, it was little
different from the life lived of peering in on places she couldn't go. The
other was something vastly older, a piece of something much greater. It
retained no set form, moving between complex geometric shapes, it easily
matched the urchin in enthusiasm, although its reports required some
knowledge of cultural anthropology, to translate what it saw into human
concepts. It often saw things humans would edit out.
"Guv'ner," she, the urchin, said, he strongly suspected she was a she,
but no force would make her admit it, the fate of a pretty, young, girl
street urchin on the streets of Victorian London was obvious to her. And
still scarred her afterlife.
The Monolith, it responded to that name, although it claimed not to
need one, rumbled an English greeting. Jeff gestured, bringing the seeming
of Lucia to them. The pair drew near.
"She was stolen from her family," he said quietly, "I want her found,
so we can return her to them."
The intensity of the gazes frightened him for a moment, he was still
glad these two in particular had answered his call.
"How old?" the urchin stared, as if trying to absorb the essence of the
lost girl through her eyes.
"Less than two years," Jeff said, "The ones that took her want to steal
something from the parents." That got the urchin's back up, she scowled
with affronted professional pride, he inflamed it. "A burglar with his wits
could walk in and walk out with it." He left out he saw no need for the
kidnaping, the clumsy tactics and the illogic of the action would incense
the urchin and Monolith respectively. He knew that helplessness, an
inability to do anything meaningful, haunted and motivated both.
"They blamed another family, if you can find them, you can save many
lives from being needlessly wasted."
That got them, Jeff thought as he saw the intensity of the gazes
directed at him increase.
"Why aren't we free to go?" the urchin asked angrily.
"There is some danger, I want you two to scout, not fight. I have
attackers."
"But Guv'ner -!"
"Can you carry the child out?" Jeff asked coldly. The urchin frowned.
He leaned close, he'd learned not to touch her, or try. "Your word."
"Guv'ner!" the aggrieved innocence would have drowned them in the
'Real' World.
"All right, I'll accept that." Jeff gave up, aware of the important
thing, you had to abandon points to make the urchin feel she'd forced
something on you. All the mind games and negotiation were part of being a
shaman. Learning where to stand, where to give up, phrasing things in a
particular way to bring about a certain set of behaviors, sometimes from
creatures much more powerful than he. He'd found he could apply those
lessons to the 'Real' World. He released them to their mission, content
that the mission itself would be adequate `payment` and both would be
offended if he offered more. He still had sleep, and his mission in the
Dreamlands tonight.
----------------------------------------
If I Love You, What Business Is It Of Yours?
The crunch of scree under their boots made sneaking impossible, they
led the horses forward. Jeff considered Langley's worry.
"We might not have enough resources if the creature is more powerful
than we expected."
"Langley, we've got enough resources to swamp anything except El
Nureenen himself."
The pair crested the hill and looked down on the entrance.
"We could have searched for years and not seen it," Langley commented.
"That's what maps are for."
"Has anyone told you how arrogant and self-satisfied you are?" Langley
asked, frowning.
"This week, I don't believe so," he replied, "You're just mad I bailed
you out."
"I keep wondering when I'll get to return the favor," Langley said.
"I don't like sticking my neck out like you do. But that's not what's
bothering you, come on, give."
"Are you _that_ naive? The Poles of Warsaw rose up. Well the Russians
halted their advance and the British and Americans didn't fly in support,
not troops or food or ammunition, so we defeated them and then we leveled
the city. Any of the Allies could have helped them. But the Russians
wanted the Poles crushed, and you don't want to offend _them_. You probably
won't want to offend them when they annihilate every German, knock down our
towns and cathedrals, and erase Germany from the face of the map. The
western border of Russia will be the Bay of Biscay and whatever little
enclaves the other Allied armies are able to hold, and you still have the
Japanese to deal with. I know what a fanatical defense means. Stalingrad
consumed armies, each Japanese city will consume how many American armies?
Then there'll be nobody left to stop the Communists. Stalin was massacring
Ukrainians and no one cared, do you think anyone will care if he slaughters
Poles or Germans? The civilized nations should have banded together to
fight the Bolsheviks. Patton saw it."
"Patton is also a political waif. There are a lot of sympathizers in
the Allied governments. I like Karl Marx, his humor's more sophisticated
than Groucho's, too bad people take him seriously. I never have figured out
how anyone assumes that you can get coherent ideology out of a man
half-crazed by his boils. Besides - "
"I don't need a lecture!" Langley said crossly, "I've read the original
myself. I may not be a History Major, but I know what it says. Fighting
the Russians will chew up too many troops you'll need to put down Japan.
Unless you've got some magic wand to wave that will convince them to
surrender."
"Not that I know of," Jeff admitted, "The invasion of each island will
be worse than D-Day. The Russians will take Korea and Manchuria as well,
giving them the warm water ports they've been after for so long. Manila
will be bad enough, Saipan was a nightmare. I don't want to think about
reducing each island, if not each city. You may be right, there may be
nothing to stop them, or at least no one will do it by war."
"Now you see why I'm worried? The only place to escape will be in
dreams. Churchill talked about a science-supported Dark Age, that's what
we're looking at."
"I promised I'd get you out, and I will."
"It's a nice sentiment, but not even you could pull that off," Langley
said quietly.
----------------------------------------
The Meliorist couched her lance and checked that her saber-halberd was
secure, then looked over the knights with their long lances. The snort of
the horses and the jingle of the tack was the only sound, but it seemed loud
enough. The dismounted horse archers had moved into position with far less
noise.
The irritating chemical smoke from the canisters was drawn into the
cave opening. One of the ole' S-Dragon's nasty tricks. The Meliorist had
smelled it, nothing with a nose would not want to escape. The roar from
within the cavern announced that the guardian had a nose, and a bad
attitude. The long, almost wolflike snout came first. Then the two limbs
dragging the creature rapidly forward on its belly, not raising up much of
the long sinuous body that crawled out of the noxious smoke.
It immediately started sprouting arrows and crossbow bolts, attacks
alternated between both sides. It roared at one side, then the other.
The Meliorist couldn't admire the brute, the slug-like belly and the
stupidity prevented any respect. This was just something to be killed. She
nodded to the bugler who sounded 'Charge', the ole' S-Dragon might favor
bagpipes, Asuka thought the Geneva Convention should ban them.
The creature was too occupied by the arrows, still volley firing,
alternating between sides, so it ignored the horsemen. While most of them
failed to bite in its flesh, bouncing instead off it's scaled back, a few
stuck in the softer underbelly, and some stuck in gaps in the scaly armor.
The Meliorist aimed for one such point where the arrows had found a gap in
the border between the scales and the softer skin. The creature became
aware of the real danger and lunged at the knights, the Meliorist rode in
front and was the creature's intended target. She accepted that, adjusted
her approach so her lance would pierce the thing's vitals and splinter
within. She felt the shock of impact and drove the lance in deep, before it
sheared off from the force. She rode past, unclipping the sabre-halberd and
wheeled her horse to close with the creature again. She saw that the other
lancers had gone in with mixed success. Nevertheless, the creature writhed
and shuddered as its blood poured out and sizzled on the stone. Asuka
ordered the horseman to fall back, the writhing of a wounded wyrm was not a
safe place for knight or horse.
The creature continued to roar and scream at the gnats that still stung
at it. Only aimed fire now, making the attacks with precision, striking at
the creature's belly and other weak points. She knew that many of the
knights would want to 'prove their worth' by charging it again with couched
lances. They had lost one knight and four horses, there were wounded, but
none seriously. They had filled the thing's belly with wood splinters from
their lances, this methodical, grinding method of fighting and killing saved
lives, although it wasn't `honorable`. She agreed that the most honorable
thing was to go home with as many people to celebrate the victory as
possible.
----------------------------------------
With the creature finally stilled, the Meliorist had finally had
enough, and ordered another charge, the arrow fire had stopped. This too
wasn't war, it was mercy, she herself put the thing out of its misery.
"You expected I couldn't wait," the Meliorist accused her friends as
they walked across the field of stone. The other knights and lancers
dismounted to follow them.
"I suspected," the Scholarly Dragon replied, his attitude and
expression clearly indicating how he'd gotten his nickname. He adjusted the
long spear pole on his shoulder, it was about 3-meters long, the
'ten-foot-pole I wouldn't touch you with'. The Meliorist wasn't going to
fall for that joke, again.
"Has anyone told you that you are insufferable?" the Meliorist asked.
"Someone did, actually, right before I sent her off on a wild goose
chase." He signaled a halt and tapped the entryway of the dragon's hall
with the pole. Something growled and tore the pole from his hands. For
several moments they heard the sounds of many things consuming the pole, and
possibly a few of each other.
"I always was afraid of vegetarians," Anna commented as she approached.
"Are you really sure you want what's in there?" the ole' S-Dragon
asked.
Asuka frowned and waited while the S-Dragon consulted with the other
mages they had brought with them.
"You want to just charge in there?" Anna asked, her smile faded as
Asuka glared. Asuka was not happy about the delay, she didn't want to
appear _too_ impatient. The S-Dragon returned with a small wicker basket of
mice.
"Do I even want to know?" Anna asked.
"Probably not," the Scholarly Dragon tossed the basket into the cavern.
There was the sound of chopping/grinding, then shrieks, then silence.
"Wait!" Asuka told the others as they got up to march in. They waited
in silence a little while longer, then the Scholarly Dragon tossed in a
rock, once the echoes of rock on stone died away, only silence answered
them.
"I think now it's safe to go in," he said.
"Are you sure?" Asuka asked in a quavering voice, eliciting a laugh
from the other two.
"Stay behind me," the ole' S-Dragon warned, "There are a lot of other
traps, or should be. And you, Honorable Knight of Celephais, haven't been
listening to the thieves and criminals I have provided for broadening your
education."
"I know about traps."
"You know about grifters' tricks, not tomb builder traps," the ole'
S-Dragon replied sternly.
"Okay, fine, okay," Anna soothed, "Message received and understood.
You're the expert on deadly architecture."
"What are they going to do?" Asuka muttered, "Fill the walls with
poison dart throwers, have great big balls of rock to roll down on us?"
"Exactly, you _have_ been studying, I take it back," he replied as he
entered carefully, stepping painstakingly across the floor.
"Why do we put up with him?" Asuka asked, "Why do _I_ put up with him?"
Asuka glared at him as she waited for the okay to enter.
"I haven't figured out why you haven't married him," Anna commented.
Asuka turned back to her friend, considered a double homicide
"He'd be worse if he were a real dragon," Anna offered as she began
walking in his footsteps.
Asuka grumbled as she began picking her way across the floor after her
`friends`, she waved for the knights not to follow.
----------------------------------------
A tightly cowled figure watched the proceedings with interest. The red
eyes caught the sunlight for a moment. The taciturn young woman had been
accepted around the camp because she arrived with fresh game at lunch and
dinner, and seemed only to want her weapons looked after, three meals and a
bed within the perimeter.
The Red Dragons were full of eccentrics, having a source of fresh meat
who only wanted to eat vegetables wasn't that far from the standard. They
also knew her from the siege of El Nureenen's Fortress, and the pattern was
the same, basic support for fresh meat.
The death of the guardian wyrm was unexpected. She'd wanted to follow
them inside, except it was too dangerous. The knights would never allow it,
nor would she want to gain the attention of the higher-ups. They'd notice
the hair-dye, and discover her true hair color, and _that_ would raise too
many questions.
She wasn't sure what they'd find within, there were rumors she'd
overheard about the papers the Scholarly Dragon had brought with him. None
of the rumors seemed creditable, or even reasonable. But if they were true,
even partially, the war against El Nureenen would be over, and the Commander
would have to be informed. Such a creature would be a powerful asset.
Personally, she did not want to see the Meliorist hurt. She believed she
could protect her better close than at the distance she had to maintain to
avoid detection as a spy.
----------------------------------------
"All we need are snakes and spooky music," Anna commented as she looked
around the room inside the mountain, "That would make a terrific movie about
archeology! From Hollywood: Brave Americans fighting the Nazis; or a brave
German team facing the decadent, unholy alliance of plutocrats and
bolsheviks."
"Who'd pay to see people digging with trowels and brushes for months on
end for bits of pottery?" the ole' S-Dragon asked.
"You have no romance," Anna replied, then shouted, "That's why the
Meliorist won't marry you." She smiled at the reaction from both of them,
the revulsion mirrored on the two faces.
They'd laid bridges over the minefield floor, jammed the swinging
spiked logs, and done a few mystical things here and there. Anna could see
how pleased Asuka was with the progress, engineering overcoming ancient
sorcery. The advanced groups had discovered the 'holy of holies'. The
Scholarly Dragon was sitting in front of the chamber, the man was garbed as
a full wizard of the Camilenn Order, the staff of a Council member in his
hands. There was something alien about him when he was in full wizard
uniform. She, and Asuka, the Meliorist, were much more comfortable when he
was wearing armor and a sword, or standing back as a general of his army.
But every so often something brought it back to her. That her friend
dabbled in things that for all their knowledge, the few spells she and Asuka
had mastered, was completely beyond their understanding, either how or why.
'Cold Iron was master of them all' the S-Dragon's favorite poet wrote. Yet
in full regalia with the dignity of his office, he changed into something
else, not just someone else.
Most wizards tended to go mad or at least become eccentric, even the
most benign spells seemed to run this risk, healing being the least
dangerous. The Camilenn's seemed the most immune, but even they had the
occasional spectacular failure. However, they and the Theodregi generally
put down such aberrations, unlike the rest of the orders.
So he sat before the door, dabbler in odd, mind-ripping powers, ready
to act against threats to humanity, even himself. It gave Anna some chills
that wizards and their dragon allies could be so like the questing knights,
yet so unlike them.
The door to the chamber rumbled back into its slot. The grinding of
stone on stone brought everyone's attention back to the moment. The tension
began building among those who waited, would something come leaping out, was
some dread curse to visit itself on the defilers?
The ole' S-Dragon sneezed, loudly, making everyone jump, but the
tension was broken. "There are no further traps or spells here," he told
those who waited, "That really worries me, all the rest of the complex
seemed aimed at keeping people out of here. This section looks more like it
was aimed at keeping people _in_." That didn't sit well with any of the
others.
----------------------------------------
The Spirits That I Summoned Up, I Now Can't Rid Myself Of
Jeff woke suddenly, he was _not_ back at Harvard. He glanced at the
spirits who had returned and awakened him, the urchin and the Monolith.
Their mission had seriously agitated both, they had enough force to wake him
and draw him into the Spirit World.
"We found her!" the urchin exclaimed.
"There are protective walls, wards, many things," the Monolith added,
to the urchin's irritation.
"We can't get in, but we coulds hear and feel her."
"I'll need to assemble the forces," Jeff told them, "I'll check back
for details when I have an idea of the force I can field. Good work." They
preened and released him back to sleep, despite their desperate need to move
and move _now_.
Jeff opened his eyes and looked around. Now he was in his dorm room.
Sergeant Malkowitz was asleep. It was early, and he had a lot of work to
do. Breakfast and a shower would let him plan. Soldiers from the
Castilogni and Rivetti families weren't the same as combat soldiers or
police, perhaps they could arrange for _real_ soldiers, combat troops.
Maybe Captain ggreg has some, he thought as he considered the options
available to him. Shower, he reminded himself as he finished waking up.
----------------------------------------
"You have got to be kidding!"
It's too early for this, Jeff thought as he sat in the cafeteria with
his two factors, Rivetti and Castilogni.
"Mister Rivetti," Jeff explained for the third time, "Whoever did this
wanted your two families to fight, if we can hit them quickly, we can get
your cousin back and teach them a lesson."
"You want me to tell my uncle that he's to weaken the guards around the
house while he teams up with his enemy -?" Rivetti turned to Castilogni.
"No offense."
"None taken, I would have said the same," Castilogni said, "The
question is to you, Boss."
"You have it exactly, both of you."
The two young men, glanced at the boy, at each other, all the while
their mouths hanging open.
"You, sir - " Rivetti began.
"Are out of your mind!" Castilogni finished.
"Gentlemen," Jeff asked, "Is that a yes or a no?"
Rivetti shook his head. "I'll ask, and I'll get tossed out of the
family."
"You're tough enough." Jenny arrived at the table, the three Harvard
men stood, she waved them back down as she took a seat between Jeff and
Rivetti. "There could be a spot on the ranch for you."
"Horses and cattle," Castilogni said, "I'll stay in Boston."
"Plotting and planning to venture into the darkness?" Jenny asked in
Gaelic, "Black Eagle would be proud." She switched back to English.
"Sorry, gentlemen, Clan business."
"You're going to commit a hundred Highlanders?" Rivetti asked.
"We're from the Lowlands," Jenny replied.
"So, the Clans will march?" Castilogni joked.
"I'm afraid I can't go," Jenny said, patted Rivetti's hand, "I'm afraid
he worries so."
"About the opposition, I pity them," Jeff retorted.
Jenny's reply was interrupted by Captain ggreg's arrival. "I
understand you're laying on a rescue," Captain ggreg said quietly.
"I located the young lady," Jeff said as Jenny excused herself and
left. "Can you add much to our forces?" Jeff asked.
"British soldiers on American soil?" ggreg considered, "Quite an
incident."
"Training?" Jeff offered, "Youthful high spirits. I can't exactly
whistle up a regiment of American troops."
"Where would we be heading?" ggreg asked.
We, Jeff noted.
"Into the sewers," Jeff told them. He noted the grimace on Rivetti and
Castilogni, the look of determination on ggreg.
----------------------------------------
The helmets had lights, they were electrical rather than the old-style,
carbide lights. The men were clearly not comfortable with each other. He
hadn't known how Sharon and Jason had found out, or how they'd arranged for
the U.S. Army troops or the equipment for the others. In total, nearly two
complete rifle companies were descending into the storm sewers. The chance
of a methane explosion was less than in the sanitary sewers, but it still
worried Jeff, as well as Sharon and Jason attaching themselves to his
`group`.
All I am is the navigator. I was hoping for a small commando force,
not the Normandy invasion, he thought as they walked along. The noise of
all the feet and whispered conversations echoing and reechoing. None of it
helped his disquiet about being packed into tight tunnels with people
jostling his elbows. He wanted to scream and run away, just do the job
himself.
"So what happens when we get there?"
Jeff stared at the Major's oak leaves on the soldier's collar. Why are
you asking me? he silently asked the Major and the two senior `soldiers` of
the Castilogni and Rivetti contingents, the British sergeant and his men
were with the rearguard along with Captain ggreg. Jeff didn't know where
Adam was.
"Get the kid, kill everybody else," he replied.
And that satisfies you? he wondered about that, A twelve-year-old,
you're letting a 12-year-old give you orders? he wondered how badly the
world had spun off its axes. Maybe someone else would think 'Hey neat I'm
in charge!' But I know from dreams that such commands mean casualties and
this one looks like it might prove to be a disaster if it isn't handled
properly. He didn't want the responsibility.
The change from concrete beneath them didn't bode well. Jeff hoped it
was a minor problem, but the chamber widened out, this chamber wasn't on the
map and Jeff had suspicions that this wasn't part of the original design.
"Hey," someone commented, and it echoed around the chamber, "We're
walking on bones." Having stated the obvious and drawn attention to their
presence, the individual fell silent. Jeff kept walking, hoping, praying
they'd pass through quickly.
The murmurs grew more worried and distracting. "Yes, we're walking
across bone," he said quietly, "The concrete is about 50 feet beneath us."
It was like dropping a stone in a pond, the ripples of silence fanned
out as the others considered the implication, how many people it would take
to fill a pit like this, how long, why no one noticed the losses. Jeff was
just glad of the silence and that they were taking things more seriously.
He already knew the answers, and he didn't want the people speculating about
what might do this, let them think it was humans or some slavering monster.
But do it silently. What they were facing was as vulnerable to bullets as
humans. The urchin and the Monolith had given him a very thorough force
rundown and deployment.
The maps showed the T-junction, both led to the secured area. The
various leaders were called together and they reviewed the maps Jeff had
handed out at the beginning. The maps labeled the guard posts and the
various cross points and possible ambush points, and the location of the
girl. The odd sensing system he'd learned from his `tutors` easily verified
that they had not moved her, it also filled him with the impression of
having immersed himself in the muck of a sanitary sewer. What waited for
them was incredibly foul. The runes he'd carved would hopefully put paid to
that monster, or at least allow them to escape. A second try with heavier
weapons and more troops could be mounted later.
"Okay, here we split up," the Major ordered. One set of maps had a
route marked in red, the other had a route marked in blue. Those 'Blues'
charging straight in would act as a diversion for the 'Red' rescue force.
Both would retreat after their primary objective had been achieved. The
noisome stench of the many ghouls was becoming noticeable over the other
fragrances that permeated the place.
The soldiers didn't need any orders, they had effectively cut him out
of the last minute planning, which was fine with Jeff, he had other fish to
fry in the caverns, and a two pronged assault would allow him enough
distractions to carry them out.
The teams broke off. Jeff, to his disgust, had Sharon and Jason
tagging along with him. He knew he couldn't protect them if things became
difficult, he hoped they had the good sense to run if it came to that.
The screams and gunfire from the 'rescue' group reminded him that no
plan survived contact with reality. The diversion group charged. The
screams took on an increasingly inhuman note as the ghouls came under direct
fire from the second group of light-wearing attackers. Fighting in the
sewers was a nightmare, muzzle flashes marked the scene in sharp lines, the
sound echoed madly, deafeningly. Shouts and cries could be heard in all
directions and in all tones from orders to pleas to cries of fear, rage and
panic. The ghouls, hideous as they were, saved themselves by being cowards.
The places they fled through were not ones a human would fit, nor would be
willing to go.
One thing that worried him during all the planning, the figures he'd
seen on the platter that supported Rivetti's jade dragon statue, he, the
Meliorist, and Anna had encountered runes that appeared just the same in the
crypt they had entered in the Dreamlands. Coincidence was all too often
enemy action. Jeff had the awful feeling they were luring him in, but in
the Dreamlands or here in the Waking World, he didn't know.
A huge ghoul leapt out of the darkness. Jeff fired. Again, a bar of
brilliant light connected the tip of his cane with his target. The creature
ran off shrieking. Jeff ignored Sharon's horrified reaction as he broke
open the action and replaced the shell.
"What in God's Name was that?!" Sharon demanded.
"A guard." Jeff closed the weapon and restarted his advance.
"No, what you used," she stammered.
"Something I made, you think they'd sell shotgun shells to a
12-year-old?" What he was seeking seemed to be calling him. He noticed the
odd expression on both Sharon's and Jason's faces. He found it hard to
believe that they could sense it. Maybe there is something to that
organization they're trying to get me to join, he thought. He wasn't much
of a joiner, he found himself manipulating people to get them to do what he
wanted. So far no one really objected, he didn't know if they'd noticed and
let it pass, or if they knew and didn't mind. His lack of self-control in
that area irritated him. His musings nearly caused him to miss the approach
of the man. It looked like a distorted version of Janus the Roman god, a
man with two faces, in this case one on the right and the left of his head.
The left face was twisted into a parody of the mask of comedy, the right
into a parody of the mask of tragedy. Parody because they were rotted and
diseased, like wax beginning to run and flesh decomposing and reforming,
giving the faces a crawling appearance as the flesh parted and slithered
back together.
Jeff vaguely heard someone close to him scream, and someone, possibly
the same person, tugging at his sleeve. The two runes he had made riveted
his attention, one in each pocket as he reached for them. With them firmly
clamped in his hands, he advanced. The creature hadn't regarded him
directly, now that changed, somehow it sensed its peril, it raised its voice
in a spell as it drew back.
Jeff knew he was sprinting towards the creature, even though the
distance seemed to be shrinking so slowly. But the creature was not
withdrawing fast enough, even as he slowed.
Suddenly, it was in reach, his hands approached the creature with
glacial deliberateness, he silently urged them on, trying to target the
creature as it flowed away. Jeff slapped one rune on each of its rotting
foreheads. Both mouths screamed as time snapped back to normal.
He heard Sharon yelling to him, "Okay you got him, let's get out of
here!"
He stumbled alongside her, the best he could manage was a shambling
run, his limbs didn't seem to be working. Sharon would stop and urge him
forward, but his body was moving slower and slower, he knew this was no
spell, or he could have countered it. It was the nature of the place, the
'Twins' had somehow influenced it. Now he'd wounded it, so the laws of
physics were different, constantly changing.
Jeff caught a glimpse of the demon-faced man charging towards him, he
couldn't twist or jump out of the way, he could only go limp as the mass
piled into him. A brief flight and blackness claimed him.
----------------------------------------
"I recognize this," the Scholarly Dragon told Asuka, indicating the
disc that surrounded the black opaque gem that sat in the middle of the
circular altar. There was nothing else in the entire huge chamber, the
stone work looked as if it was all of one piece. "It's a pattern, I was
researching runes for controlling Dragon Kings. These were the runes."
"So it's a Dragon King?" Asuka asked, a faint worm of uncertainty began
undercutting her resolve. "But the weapon is here, isn't it?"
"Your records and ours say the weapon is here, but what kind of
description do you have? There were no descriptions in the mages'
archives," the Scholarly Dragon admitted.
The chagrined look on her friend's face did not reassure Asuka. "We
can stop or we can go," Asuka offered.
"No we can't," Anna gasped, "The gem is sinking." She glanced around.
"And we're rotating, very slowly, but we're moving."
"Run?" the S-Dragon asked.
Asuka answered by grabbing Anna's arm and sprinting towards the exit.
She made no comment about self-confessed `experts`, she saved her breath for
running. She kept expecting the door to grind shut, trapping them inside,
when it didn't, she began worrying. If they had released something rather
than triggering a trap then -
"_FREE_!_" a cry of rage and joy, rather than a word, rang through the
chamber as she and Anna reached the door. A glowing bar in the bottom slot
braced the door open. She could hear the stone straining to close. The
knights had assembled at the doorway. As soon as Anna and she were through,
the glowing bar vanished and the door slammed shut, even the muscles of her
faithful werewolves couldn't slow that inexorable slide. Her last glimpse
of her friend was the huge black cloud coiling around him like a python, and
that fool standing there gesturing in the middle of it, as if his magics
gave him a chance against that huge monster.
Maybe with Unit 02, Asuka thought as she scratched idly at the heavy
stone.
"We need to get ready," Asuka said remotely, "He won't be able to hold
that thing forever."
"Asuka, he might win," Anna said hopefully.
Asuka didn't know how she knew how powerful that thing was. The old
texts had told of all the power of the Daimorigon, she knew that cloud was
the creature, the weapon they sought, that _she_ had sought.
"Let's go." She submerged all her feelings. If he survived, she would
rejoice, but he'd made his decision to sacrifice himself to save them, to
waste his final gift would be a final betrayal.
They scrambled back over the bridges towards the entrance. Asuka only
felt empty. If the reports were accurate, they hadn't even a fraction of
the power necessary to combat it. She only hoped she could lead it - to El
Nureenen - and hope the two would destroy each other.
----------------------------------------
Rei noted the scramble to break camp and get everything packed. The
knights were quick to send out a heavy patrol towards the cavern while the
others, the unmounted troops, broke camp. She had seen the red-auburn hair,
heard the sharp, confident commands, but not the graying brown and the more
fatherly tones. She couldn't imagine they'd had a falling out, and she
doubted that they had succeeded so quickly.
If they had, shouldn't they be celebrating? she wondered. Then the
earthquake struck. The earth seemed to be shaking itself apart. Stones
tumbled from the heights and dust rose from the ground. Rei merely held on,
she had the oddest feeling that someone or something was screaming with rage
within the earthquake.
She knew that was ridiculous, but the impression remained. Then it was
over. She peered down at the camp, the senior sergeants and officers
commanded that the troops should continue working. The work began
immediately only to be interrupted by another earthquake, stronger than the
last. The impression that something was screaming now was inescapable, the
tone was too low to differentiate it from the sound of tortured stone. The
shaking went on much longer, heavy stone now blocked the cavern entrance.
Rei was at the top of the ridge, she didn't have to worry about rocks
from above. But the rising dust choked her, she covered her mouth and nose
with her cloak. She wondered why the world had suddenly gone mad.
----------------------------------------
The Daimorigon raged around the chamber that again held it, still held
it. It could batter its way out, eventually. What it raged about was the
gnat buzzing about in its head. It had consumed the body as the gnat
deigned to hold it and prevent its escape. Instead of dying, now the gnat
raged through its mind and spirit like a virulent poison, stinging it in a
dozen, in a hundred places.
"I will get you!" it raged, lashing around with the force of its mind
even as its body smashed against the stone meant to hold it. Even then the
gnat dodged and buzzed and stung. The gnat's words of defeat and insult
stung almost as much as the poisons themselves.
The Daimorigon brought its full mind and spirit into play, closing in
from all directions. If felt the spirit of the gnat crushed, smashed into
thousands of shreds. "NO!" the Daimorigon screamed, it had not crushed the
gnat, it had forced the tiny slivers of the gnat deep into itself. "This is
impossible! No creature can survive being consumed!" it bellowed in rage,
"They gibber in fear and disintegrate." It had done this hundreds of times,
it was automatic, but not now. The whisper 'You are what you eat,' echoed
through its mind, the gnat seemed impervious to that fear. The Daimorigon
began to fear, a gnawing, little thing but growing. It had tried to shape
its bipedal form, and this thing had stung it so, it made the effort
impossible. Impossible, the sting of a gnat at the exactly wrong place at
exactly the wrong time had made it disembodied again. Now it drew away from
the gnat, it could feel the venom coursing through itself, it could feel the
thousands of trivial wounds the gnat delivered still bleeding. It saw with
satisfaction that the gnat was bloodied as well, not immune to the battering
it had delivered.
"You're dying," it said with satisfaction.
"I'm dead," the gnat replied, "In the Waking World, a foe has stabbed
me to the heart, my life's-blood flows as a sacrifice to a Dragon King."
The Daimorigon's eyes narrowed at that, but it kept silent, Let it talk
while I heal and cleanse myself.
"Then you'd kill me here. I choose not to die alone."
"I will change your mind," it insisted, "Slowly, painfully."
"As you too bleed out your life's-blood?" the gnat asked with feigned
courtesy, "As the joke goes, I don't need to outrun Death, I just have to
outrun you."
"Aren't you _AFRAID_ of me?" It lunged to punctuate its question.
The gnat merely rolled out of the way, sat at the new spot, smiling
that same enigmatic smile.
"What is your name, gnat?"
"Mortis Invictus."
It narrowed its eyes. "You name yourself Invincible Death?"
The gnat chuckled at it in the same infuriatingly certain tone. "Smith
is a common enough name. But I am for killing things like you. My tricks
are within you. Can you not hear Death's footsteps approaching?"
"Do you know what I am?!" The Daimorigon raised itself up, draining
all the faint light from this place, making the darkness and every shadow
its own.
----------------------------------------
Jeff looked up at the creature as it reared up. As terrible as it
thought itself, he knew the wounds he'd inflicted, felt the cobwebs he'd
spun as they grew stronger by the moment. Soon he would have it. It would
never escape this place, this place within its own mind. Not now, not in a
thousand lifetimes.
"I AM THE DAIMORIGON!!" it thundered, "All that you worms of humans
fear about dragons, I AM! Your qualms are a prayer, your terror a psalm,
all in worship to me." The creature's voice shook the walls of its spirit
realm where they dueled.
"If you're of humans, then I'll take you to bits, keep what I need and
cast the rest away."
Idiot, he thought, I'm dying, and you're trying to frighten me?
The creature struck, but halted before the blow fell. "No, you tricked
me once." It drew back, snakelike. "You shan't fool me again." It settled
back into a pile. "Your venoms are sharp, but not enough, I've been
poisoned before"
"Not by a servant of Yig I'd wager."
"You lie!" the Daimorigon hissed, as Jeff wove more of the spell
potential into filaments. As it sought time to heal, the trap grew
stronger, the nets he wove would soon be unbreakable. Its spirit, the
spirit of dragon fear and hatred, and he had long experience in dealing with
spirits: negotiating, ego-stroking, threats, whatever was necessary. He
knew it was fragmenting, and it didn't realize it's impending doom.
He'd used its own aggression against it. Already he was summoning a
spirit of Anger. He didn't think a calm riddling game would tire the
creature out. He had a plan, it was risky, but it would result in the
creature never being a threat to Langley and her troopers, maybe to no one
ever again. Failing that, he would trap it here forever.
He released the spirit of Anger he'd summoned and sent it into the
thousands of tiny fissures he'd already bored into the Daimorigon with its
own help. He watched its eyes widen and blaze as he ran to a more secure
place. The infuriated roaring shook the seeming cavern, returning it to the
stuff of the spirit realm, and Jeff prepared for the next part of the
battle.
----------------------------------------
I Love Those Who Yearn For The Impossible
Asuka was in the rearguard, Anna was with the vanguard, both were
urging the others forward. Asuka kept hoping the Scholarly Dragon would
somehow escape, or if he could hold that inky black cloud until they could
get onto the flats. There they might have a chance. The knights had
already unshipped their long lances, 5.5 to 6 meters, and the last
decimeters would shatter and splinter after impact like a grenade inside the
target, the same weapons they'd killed the wyrm with. She had doubts about
the effectiveness against a cloud. Her sabre-halberd would provide a more
effective weapon, she could feel the odd eagerness for the battle that
seemed to emanate from the weapon. She dismissed the thought. There were
many superstitions about the 'Meliorist's blade', that trapped within was an
angel, or a demon, or a long-dead dragon. She hadn't the faintest idea how
the Scholarly Dragon had made it, but it served.
The shaking had ceased, making travel down the winding hill trails
easier, but the speed was not sufficient.
Nothing will ever be enough, she thought as she ruthlessly crushed the
image in her mind, the spells flashing from his hands as the door rumbled
shut, and the flower of knighthood just standing there - helpless. What
good is Chivalry and a sword if it cannot save a friend? She was having a
harder time forcing those thoughts back. She remembered the death of
Samuel, Jeff's brother, and the hurt she'd felt seeing a friend in that kind
of pain. The death of her mother had hurt too, the death of her mother's
mind and spirit hurt worse than the subsequent death of her body, that had
been a release. Mommy was gone, now everyone knew, now everyone could see.
She suspected this would be the same, there would be endless speculation, he
would escape a thousand different ways, but she knew no human could best
that thing, no one would be walking out of that crypt. She'd lured him to
his death out of friendship, and out of friendship he'd accepted it.
"And what does that make me?" she asked the cloudless sky, wondered if
even the clouds had fled the coming battle. She was not the stereotypical
warrior, who believed that glory was an excuse for stupidity. She knew they
should withdraw, run away, but someone needed to engage whatever came out.
If only to be able to report what it was, to the next line of defense. The
forces surrounding El Nureenen's fortress would take days to return, there
were other warriors, wizards and dragons in the Dreamlands, but would they
be enough?
----------------------------------------
The Daimorigon twisted and bit and spun against the walls of the
prison. Jeff stood outside looking in, the power of his death in the Waking
World gave him the force necessary to construct this web that held it, he
only needed to take the last step into oblivion, to abandon himself into the
weaving and the creature would not escape its own mind for a million years.
So few understood the interrelationship of life, death and magic.
"Hardly the best answer," the voice beside him said.
Jeff turned and saw the elaborately robed man, a serpent man, maybe one
of the atavisms, the throwbacks to their ancient power, or maybe one of the
sleepers, those who saw the imminent collapse of their civilization and
hibernated, for hundreds of millions of years.
Jeff couldn't conceive of allowing dinosaurs to overthrow a thriving
civilization, but had learned that it was a particularly sore point. 'You
vicious hotbloods would have been very useful,' was about the politest
response.
"Losing such a creature, such FORCE . . . is a shame, you _are_ seeking
a weapon."
"I'm afraid this one is uncontrollable," Jeff answered, it was obvious
the creature was closely watching the Daimorigon batter itself into
unconsciousness, while it wasn't enjoying the sight, it was amused by it.
"A more appropriate control could be arranged, for a price."
"What price?"
Here's the hook, the bait isn't very attractive, Jeff thought.
"Your allies lose eggs, young, and their lives to the depredations of
the Elder Gods. Their Utopia rests entirely on the backs of dragons. I
want them freed."
"They will not serve you," Jeff reminded him, or her, "They're too much
like their creators: willful, stubborn, ready to argue or fight over the
most trivial details."
"You act as if those are bad characteristics, respect is all I demand
of my servants, acknowledgment."
A chill stole over Jeff, he would theoretically meet up with such
creatures, some of the spirits he worked for approached such things in
power, but Black Eagle had been explicit about the difference between those
spirits who _thought_ they were gods, and those who really were, and it
often came down to a certain prickliness, the former needed to prove it, the
latter didn't want you to forget it. He hadn't realized he'd summoned this
Great Old One when he'd invoked its name aloud. It was a careless mistake.
"I intended no affront."
A hissing chuckle. "Proof I deceive even you, when I choose."
Gods and their little games. But this changes everything, Jeff's mind
was racing, He really does have the power to do it.
"There's a trick to it of course," Jeff said warily.
"A test," Yig corrected, "You will have to be stronger, cleverer . . .
better. The battle will decide. Since two spirits cannot coexist in one
body in harmony, there will be an amalgamation, as well as a revivification
of your body in the Waking World."
Jeff felt his throat dry up, Victory against El Nureenen, and return to
life?
"I sense a very big 'if', sir."
More hissing chuckling. "Propose an oath, I will determine if it is
sufficient."
"I will not worship you. My apologies."
"'No other gods before me', I have read the book, I am aware of a great
deal more than you. I desire a servant, not a worshiper," Yig said testily.
Jeff watched the monster trapped within his web, and considered that he
was preparing to walk into a similar trap, with open eyes, and hopefully
different results. But only if he picked the weave and the framework of the
net very carefully.
----------------------------------------
Rei watched the soldiers form their squadrons, ready their weapons.
She remained on foot with the baggage trains, she had no skill with horses.
A crossbow rested in her hands as she scanned the skies, a quiver of bolts
at her waist, and a box of them at her feet. A simple clawfoot mechanism
for a crossbow that normally required a windlass. She was an excellent
shot, and she could easily hide herself in a spider hole, giving her good
cover from the monster, whatever it was, when it appeared.
She also waited to run if necessary. If something came out that could
threaten the Commander's vision, someone would have to watch events and
report what had happened. The loss of either or both of the German pilots
would also be of concern, and she would have to report that as well.
----------------------------------------
Adam caught up with ggreg on the retreat, "What happened?"
"We were winning until that bloody man and the Twins showed up!" ggreg
shouted over the sound of gunfire that echoed and reechoed through the
sewers. "The ghouls tried to rally, but we cut them to pieces. I think the
man we faced is pursuing our group, so the ones with the child are getting
away."
"You aren't carrying explosives," Adam asked.
"I don't fancy setting off a charge down here," ggreg replied. They'd
reached the ladder exit, there was little pushing or crowding, but no one
wanted to remain below.
"What of our young friend?" Adam asked as the rearguard began
withdrawing.
"He slapped two tiles on that two-headed thing when that monster
slammed into him, then the two-headed man stabbed him in the heart," Sharon
told them as she passed them to get to the ladder. The pair went up last to
forestall any pursuit, there wasn't any.
"What do you mean, young lady?" ggreg caught up with Sharon and Jason.
"I mean I was standing there when it happened, I emptied a pistol into
that thing. A .38 revolver isn't the ultimate hand weapon, but people tend
to go down when you shoot them six times in the head."
"I'm afraid neither of our friend's `heavies` were vulnerable to
gunfire," Adam explained, he turned to his friend, "Do we go back?"
"With a tank?" ggreg asked, as he took deep breaths of cleaner air,
"Unless we can take down his bodyguard, we can't attack him."
"Antitank weapons?" Adam suggested.
"In a sewer, not recommended," ggreg considered the problem of how to
kill something immune to gunfire without extensive use of explosives. The
sewers of Boston simply weren't big enough for combat troops and vehicles in
sufficient numbers to engage such a target. He did suspect after the
reports they made, someone would drop a fair amount of poison gas into those
sewers, as if hydrogen sulfide and methane weren't enough.
----------------------------------------
Jeff had never considered a spirit battle in this manner, it was like a
duel between sea urchins or porcupines. The cut and thrust of showers of
spines versus the close in battle with their spines. The spines were
abstracts of the mind behind them. A stronger mind made stronger spines,
but the length, sharpness and 'throwability' of the spikes depended on other
aspects he hadn't discovered yet. He still took full advantage of it.
Distances were irrelevant here, separation depended solely on the minds
involved. The quicker controlled the separations, the relative speeds of
closure and separation.
The challenge was to use your abilities to your best advantage. The
Daimorigon was stronger at body to body, Jeff retained better missile use,
so he dove and raced in to shower his opponent with missiles, before racing
out. The creature's near-limitless rage gave it tremendous endurance,
keeping at the hit-and-run attacks only fueled that rage, prolonging the
contest, but closing to administer a coup de grace might be suicide at this
point, playing to the enemy's strength. The problem was he was tiring and
his opponent only needed him to make one mistake. The slow, steady wearing
down he'd applied had almost equalized their strengths.
So now is the time, give it the mistake its looking for while I can
take advantage of its reaction, he thought as he dove in, spiraling in to
confuse his opponent who fired a few barbs out of sheer impotent anger, Jeff
was shocked that it wasn't even considering that Jeff might be launching a
close-in attack, that perverse certainly reduced as the 'distance' closed.
Jeff drove his spines deep into the Daimorigon, while accepting a few
strikes in return. He felt the hot rage of the Daimorigon as it drove its
attack in, to hurt. Jeff countered with his attacks to kill, using the
creature's own force against it. He could feel the rage flowing into his
mind, fragmenting as it came, every bit of the rage for everything that ever
happened, from its early rampages to its first imprisonment to its
escape/reimprisonment over and over throughout time, rage at its dependency
on its prey, on humans, for its very genesis. As it wounded him, it
disintegrated, the `dust` of its existence, its memories, emotions,
reflections, everything that it was, all weighed Jeff down, crushing him to
death, under the load, but he had a place to shunt that mass, two places.
He poured himself equally into each. He held himself together but he
couldn't keep elements of his victim from mixing with him.
----------------------------------------
The darkness surrounded him as he opened his eyes, and he smiled, the
body was sound, solid and healthy, as he stood, tested his limbs, all
worked. Hands opened and closed, the size and shape were unexpected, even
as they were correct.
This will take some getting used to, he thought, then he remembered
what had been done to him and what he would do to his enemy.
The body lay on the ground, he could feel the life had already fled
from it, the transformation had destroyed what `being eaten` hadn't managed.
A blast of the breath weapon removed the remains before they further
putrefied. It was an important step, a break with the past, an embrace of
the new reality. The hands opened and closed again, claws as long as a
man's arm scratched at the hard stone. The room that held it was a trivial
barrier, breaking out would be child's play. It had the power, a power such
as it hadn't had before, a clarity of thought, analysis of previous mistakes
came easily, and not with the cloud of all-consuming rage that had always
accompanied such introspection. The emotion was there, a deep running
river, but dammed and channeled to become the servant, rather than the
master. In the darkness immense teeth flashed, visible, or perhaps sensed,
by anyone in the vicinity for their darkness, that something more than the
total absence of light had been exposed however briefly.
Moments of concentration let him feel the structure of the stone works,
the spells that held it together and restrained what was within. Then the
calm, almost impersonal nature took over, probing deeper, seeing what spells
were really part of the defense and which were traps for the unwary and
impatient, then he probed and examined a third and a fourth layer. He would
target keystones within each web. Enchantments were a specialty: assembling
them, disassembling them, there were also the spells he'd already used to
open the door. If he could reactivate them, he would escape. Although his
current form would never fit through a human-sized door, even one as large
as that, brute force would allow him to tear a hole large enough to climb
through.
The Daimorigon would never have the patience for such subtle tricks, he
thought. The huge yellow eyes, the only source of light in the room,
blinked, flashing their light on and off.
Perhaps things haven't changed as much as I thought, he considered as
he settled into a coiled heap and lost himself in the analysis of the
spells.
----------------------------------------
The darkness surrounded him as he opened his eyes, and he smiled, the
body was sound, solid and healthy, as he stood, tested his limbs, all
worked. Hands opened and closed, the size and shape were unexpected, even
as they were correct.
This will take some getting used to, he thought, then he remembered
what had been done to him and what he would do to his enemy.
The Twins lay panting on the ground from his earlier attack, the runes
laying illuminated in the fallen helmet light's beam. Lay in the mud of the
floor of the ghoul's pit. From it's look of surprise, it could see the
sudden movement of the helmet light as Jeff replaced on his head, it didn't
have to turn its head to look around, to see it was alone. Jeff smiled as
it reacted, as it saw it's doom approaching again, picked from the mud where
it had cast all three.
The enruned tiles in his hand, Jeff approached again, it cast the same
time-altering spell, doubling the `friction` of every second, then
quadrupling it, octupling it. Again they played the same scene, it hadn't
saved it before, now it would be a disaster.
The seconds did not cloy and cling as they should have, the
counterspell was ancient, half-remembered, and powerful. The spell
shattered and the runes again made contact, a slightly different place, a
precise placement, the Daimorigon had fought Dragon Kings before, and won.
The Twins's mouths screamed in horror as the runes turned its stolen power
on it with full fury, its power stolen from dragons. That power turned the
creature to stone. Jeff watched the petrifaction with no more change of
expression than a statue, he was already considering where he could get a
sledge hammer and some bags.
----------------------------------------
Meine Ruh'ist Hin, Mein Herz Ist Schwer [My Peace Is Gone, My Heart Is
Heavy]
Asuka, for the moment not the bold and confident Meliorist, waited.
The horses danced nervously under their riders, catching their uncertainty.
Asuka schooled herself to give nothing away, fear was contagious. She sat
her horse, back straight, weapon at the ready. Inside she felt nothing, she
let herself feel none of the despair seeping from the abyss to claim her.
Not the guilt nor the self-loathing, if she wanted to begin her redemption,
she would have to begin by killing this thing, then taking her place in the
line against El Nureenen. She would not throw her life away, but if she
sacrificed herself for victory that wasn't throwing her life away.
"It appears to be holding," Anna said.
"Check with our mages," Asuka said sharply. She couldn't keep the
forces in line forever. They would have to fight, or run away.
The roar of shattered stone and animal exaltation answered her
question. Jet black, absorbing all the light around it so it appeared to
shine darkness, it was the epitome of dragons. Asuka thought the body was
of an immensely powerful and greatly lengthened horse, untold thousands of
opalescent black scales covered every part of the body instead of hair. The
row of heavy spines running down its neck furthered the resemblance. The
spines grew together like webbing between the fingers, partially filling the
gaps between them, making it look like a horse's mane.
The head was more elephantine, smooth and hairless, except the long
trunk-like muzzle opened to reveal row upon row of teeth like a shark's
array. If a tooth was lost, another would replace it. The long toothy maw
was more like the gavial crocodilian.
The interior of the mouth was blackish red. Darkness and dried blood,
Asuka thought. She kept cataloging, as if concentrating on the pieces could
deny the entirety.
The tail was long and sinuous, like you'd see on a brachiosaur or a
diplodocus, except the tip split, and Asuka would have bet money the three
subtips were prehensile. The two great rows of spines running down its back
reminded Asuka of a picket fence, so uniform in height, so evenly spaced, so
monochrome, but these were blacker than coal.
Asuka felt her courage fleeing. It spread its immense wings and thrust
itself into the sky. Asuka wished she had more bowmen, she wished she had a
squadron of FW190's with the MG108 cannon pods. The thing was _huge_!_
It circled slowly upward, catching a thermal updraft.
"Bowmen at the ready, lancers stand by!" she ordered. She couldn't
imagine that the forces available would be enough. It climbed well out of
range of any missile weapon except a FLAK 18 or similar weapon. It seemed
to be surveying their formations, seeking weakness or strengths.
Then it dove on them.
"Stand by!" Asuka shouted, she searched for any weak points, features
or flaws in the color, indicating weaknesses in the black scales. She saw
none as it came into range, diving like a silent Stuka. The utter hush was
unnerving to anyone who knew dragons, dragons screamed and roared during a
dive. This one was silent, it made no attempt at noise or showy displays,
completely unlike every dragon these veterans had ever seen. By _not_
trying to unnerve them, it had succeeded in disordering them.
"Loose!" she ordered. The horsebows and crossbows twanged and the
arrows and bolts rattled off the armor, even the wings were armored. It
didn't counterattack, climbing back into the heights like a raptor playing
in the air currents. All the lancers tracked it while their comrades
reloaded. All expected a counterattack, the creature didn't launch one. It
returned to altitude and circled, enclosing the entire force, including the
baggage trains, in its orbit.
Asuka had an odd feeling it wasn't hostile, at least not at the moment.
What kind of deal did you make? Asuka thought, despairing for her friend.
What kind of deal had he made so this monster would help them?
"Get packed up and ready to move!" she ordered. One of her captains
stared at her. "I gave an order, we are going to pursue that thing."
"What about . . . " He looked away.
"There's nothing we can do for him," she said looking at the monster
circling in the sky.
"Form up," the commanders ordered.
Anna rode towards her, her horse was still wild-eyed after the close
pass of the dragon. Asuka's warhorse was steadier. "What is that thing?"
"I think we have our weapon," Asuka said listlessly, "What happens
after is the big question."
----------------------------------------
Rei had watched the approach. Noted the immense wingspan, greater than
the span of an H8K1 flying boat, perhaps twice as great. Wings of deepest
black, more an absence of light than a color. A complete hand set in the
mid wing. Rei had never seen anything with a wing structure like that, not
like a bird's not like a bat's.
The teeth also drew her attention, from the sharply pointed incisors,
to the 3 meter long canines, to the carnassial shearing teeth. The teeth of
a pure carnivore. All were dull black and sharp, as if unaffected by wear,
or new. Rei didn't know which.
Rei fired as it passed, she knew she'd hit the creature in the eye, and
the quarrel had not pierced. She'd never heard of a dragon with armored
eyes. This was definitely something she needed to report, after she
followed them to discover what they were doing. The orders to get the
baggage train assembled was curious, surely they couldn't pursue this
creature with all the mules and wagons and pack animals. She also had to
keep from being seen by the Meliorist or the Chief of scouts, who would
recognize her if they saw her.
She returned the box of bolts to the armorers and moved out to where
she could see the preparation, but wouldn't be seen. Rei considered all the
features, she could only come to one conclusion, this was like no other
creature in nature, even the odd nature of the Dreamlands, but assembled
from various bits. This monster had been carefully assembled, as a war
machine.
This creature was for fighting and killing, and it would win against
anything she'd seen in the Dreamlands. Even Unit 00 would be hard-pressed,
if it had a breath weapon then the EVA would be at an even more serious
disadvantage.
She did not relish the thought of facing it in battle. The Meliorist
and her Unit 02 might relish such a contest, Rei would be willing to
concede. As long as such a concession did not weaken the Commander's plan.
----------------------------------------
Jeff slid the manhole cover off. He looked out of the alley at the
city through different eyes. The petrifaction of the Dragon King was an
unusual experience. The faint, crescent-shaped, bite-like scar on his chest
was new, Yig's mark, a small price for surviving having someone stab you in
the heart. The smells were stronger, overwhelming the stench of the sewer,
the light seemed brighter and the darkness less obscuring, the sounds more
distinct and more of them. He wondered how much was due to his deal and its
aftermath, and how much was simply being alive and aboveground.
He hauled up the bags of shattered stone, one by one, all that remained
of the Twins. The odd man with the demonic face hadn't reappeared, for
which Jeff was extremely grateful. He replaced the manhole cover and
glanced around, he knew a man who lived near here who owed him a favor, a
ride back to the dorms with the bags of rocks would more than pay for it.
"Mister Davis, what are you doing?"
I really can't catch a break, Jeff thought as he turned to face
Professor Samuels.
"What's the meaning of this? What is that smell? Why aren't you at
the dorms? Don't you know there's a curfew?"
"Returning to Harvard, the avoidance of war, storm sewer, because I'm
here, I hadn't heard," Jeff replied.
The professor tried to work out the answers to the questions for a
moment. "I should call the police," Samuels threatened.
"I would very much appreciate that, sir, I believe the British Museum
will want their rocks back."
Samuels wasn't expecting an agreement, or that Davis would invoke the
British Museum. He simply turned and marched away.
"Good Evening to you professor!" Jeff called after him, and meant it.
The man didn't turn around. Jeff did think the professor's idea of calling
the police was a good idea, they might have a more appropriate vehicle for
carrying a stinking human and several hundred pounds of rocks.
----------------------------------------
The collection of people waiting at his dorm was curious. Mr. Rivetti,
Jeff's uncle the Dean, Captain ggreg and his friend Adam, as well as both
Sharon and Jason, along with a few people from the incursion.
His uncle advanced, then wrinkled his nose, "You really were crawling
around in the sewers."
"I'm pleased the police allowed me to use their facilities," Jeff
replied as he climbed out of the paddy wagon.
"They hosed you off, eh Boss?" Mister Rivetti asked, Jeff shrugged.
"Captain ggreg, I believe this is what you were looking for." Jeff
showed him the crude bags of fragments.
"What about the kidnapper," Mister Rivetti asked.
"You shouldn't have to worry about him," Jeff replied.
"Sorry boss, if we'd known you needed help, we would have sent some men
back."
"I'm just fatigued, and the blood is mostly not my own."
"I saw you stabbed in the heart," Sharon stammered.
"I have no doubt, but I am here, my opponent isn't. I suspect what you
saw only appeared to happen. I am extremely fatigued, and would beg your
indulgence, I would really like a bath and some sleep."
"Don't assume that anything excuses your behavior," the Dean intoned.
"No, sir. I had no intention of avoiding the consequences of my
actions," Jeff replied, "What time in the morning should I be in your
office, sir?"
"Seven A.M.," the Dean told him as Jeff left Captain ggreg and Adam to
the remains of the Twins. He showered quickly and crawled into the top
bunk.
For the first time in his life, he slept without dreaming.
----------------------------------------
"Asuka? Asuka?" Asuka heard the voice and woke slowly, opened one eye
to peer at Anna's concerned face. Anna reminded her of a mouse or a
hamster. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown clothes, brown manners, but those
bright, inquisitive eyes. It was the only thing Asuka really envied about
her friend, Asuka was pretty, so everyone assumed she was stupid. Plain
Anna they assumed was the brains of the pair.
They also didn't keep introducing their incredibly _BORING_ sons to
Anna, so she was free to talk to whatever family member interested her, and
she had an enviable talent for finding the aunt or uncle who would tell the
embarrassing stories about Asuka's would-be date, getting Asuka off the
hook. Then Anna would draw out their really fascinating and insightful
stories, and Asuka would listen raptly, absorbing the lesson eagerly.
"I just remembered why I tolerate you, you - you - you - morning
person, you!" Asuka threatened.
"'The early bird gets the worm.'" Anna smiled happily.
"Go eat some worms and return at a decent hour, like when the sun's up.
Quantum mechanics isn't until 10, and I finished the proofs for the Laplace
Transforms before I turned in." She grabbed the covers and pulled them over
her head.
"Then what about the Dreamlands?" Anna asked.
That brought Asuka to full wakefulness, she pushed the covers down
enough to look at the clock. God! People shouldn't be awake, dressed and
happy at 05:30 in the morning, she thought, she was awake, not dressed or
happy, as it should be.
"What? That we still follow that thing. What else are we supposed to
do? It's going where we would be heading anyway, El Nureenen's place, his
fortress."
"But we're moving so fast!" Anna countered, "It took the cloudships
four days at best speed through the void to arrive there, I don't know what
we're galloping across, but we couldn't walk there before."
"And that we've been moving so fast, all the horses, Hell, all the oxen
and mules should have died from the pace we're setting. Anna, I know that."
"What's it going to do when it gets there?" Anna asked, "Whose side is
it going to be on? Ours, that thing's, its own? We don't know."
"I do," Asuka told her friend as she sat up, "Somebody made a deal, I
think you know who. It'll kill El Nureenen, then, that's anybody's guess."
"The cure might be worse than the current disease."
"That's two pithy quotations, one more and I'll remind you why I prefer
football."
"All I want to know is what are we going to do if it _is_ hostile?"
"Do you remember all our arrows rattling off it? If it won't sit still
for the siege artillery, if the other mages and dragons can't stop it . . .
then we die."
"That isn't very hopeful."
"I am hopeful, if the Scholar - if Jeffery made the usual good deal he
usually does, then we've got nothing . . . nothing . . . " Asuka sighed,
she wouldn't cry, not for him, not for herself, not for anyone, not anymore.
"Then we have nothing to worry about." The words were just tumbling out she
couldn't stop them. "It could be he simply put the thing under some kind of
control, it could be he's waiting in the lair while it goes out, it could
be - "
"It could be that he's dead, and you should mourn him."
"There's no proof!" Asuka said sharply.
"Then we have to check his dreamscape," Anna said calmly, but Asuka
could see the symptoms of the incipient waterfall, "If it's gone then . . .
" It started with one tear, then another, then another. Anna just covered
her face and folded at the knees.
Asuka held the sobbing girl. Inside, she felt cold, wondering when
Anna too would be lost to her, when Anna would betray or abandon her.
----------------------------------------
"Jeffery! Of all the stupid, arrogant self-righteous - " Jenny was
shouting at him, even the Dean, sitting behind his desk, was intimidated
into silence. "What were you thinking? Were you thinking? How could
anybody be so arrogant and so careless? Even you Jeff?"
She took a breath, Jeff dove in, "Rescue, yes, I wasn't either."
She paused long enough to process the reply. "Fine, I doubt that, and
yes you were."
"Null, doubt isn't fact, I had a plan that plan worked. Dealing with
the unexpected is not the same as ignoring it, not knowing the unknown isn't
overconfidence."
Jenny subsided. "You took too big a risk."
"In retrospect, I agree. I should have assumed heavier opposition and
prepared accordingly."
Jenny turned to the Dean, "Your witness."
"You covered all the bases except one, how did the translation job
change into rescuing some Mafioso's young daughter from a pack of ghouls?"
"They lied, they were after more than a translation, they were after an
enchanter to craft a weapon. I don't think they were expecting me to tag
along, but little Miss Rivetti's kidnaping accelerated things. I _was_ the
only one who could bring the factions together."
"That it succeeded doesn't make it a success, you made changes on the
fly and didn't bother telling anyone who could have helped you, and
understood the opposition, that you were not only rescuing, but
assassinating," the Dean said, "_That_ is a serious failure in your
operation."
"I understand that," he replied. Not dreaming and waking refreshed
after five hours worried him more than he cared to admit. He knew the other
that was once `him` in an odd way, but if it was cut off, how would it
diverge? How would it deal with the powers? The Daimorigon knew spells but
not the patience to use them. He had always envied the dragons their flight
and physical prowess, the possibility he'd lose himself to the power and
freedom, and the limitless possibilities of being a dragon. He didn't know
if he could simply accept that and go on.
He knew he would go after El Nureenen in preference to any other
immediate goal, what happened after that was what worried him, for once he
had no real answers and no way to verify what he needed to know. He was a
good enough actor that he might be able to hide what was genuinely going on
in his mind. He knew the other would be as skilled.
Langley might see through it, he thought, And just how am I supposed to
get her a message?
"What do you think they were after?" the Dean asked, his tone indicated
that he already had an answer, this question was a test.
"Something that was a threat to the Empire, or Commonwealth, this was
intended as an assassination. Somehow I'd provide them an equalizer, then
they'd do the deed. I don't think they wanted to make a deal or negotiate
or interrogate it. I don't believe they expected someone else would
terminate their target."
"Good reason for caution in the future," Jenny added, "Twelve-year-old
little boys aren't supposed to be soldiers."
"Good point," Jeff agreed, "They might have been investigating my
capabilities, the British have several potential 'specials'. Sharon and
Jason have been encouraging me to join their organization, for 'specials'.
Captain ggreg and Adam may have also been investigating them."
"I think you should agree to join, simply to investigate," the Dean
said.
"I don't think they will be unwilling to give information if I remain
on the periphery, they're too eager to get me to join. I don't trust any
organization that would want me as a member."
"True," Jenny said thoughtfully, "They followed you into a sewer, into
what promised to be a gunfight. Why?"
"Until I learn that, I'm not willing to get too close," Jeff said.
"No objection," the Dean said.
----------------------------------------
More Light
Asuka looked around as they `landed`. She'd seen the area around El
Nureenen's fortress approaching for the last hour. She'd shaken out the
formation, gotten ready for combat once they landed. It looked like there
was a major assault on the humans and their allies, by the creatures of El
Nureenen.
A day-and-a-half of galloping across the void should have left the
horses and knights exhausted, or dead. Instead Asuka felt as if she'd slept
soundly and had a good meal, all the mental cobwebs and doubts that had
driven her on her quest had blown away on the ride. Too often replaced by
much more concrete and immediate worries.
They'd landed near the Red Dragons, her and Jeff's unit. The soldiers
were forming up, moving into reserve to back up the larger, less capable
formations. Asuka located the acting commander and relieved him, sending
him back to distribute the returning knights and lancers to their squadrons.
The huge dragon had landed, then launched itself up into the cloud-filled
sky. The great beasts, monsters El Nureenen had constructed, soared
clumsily over the fields, filling the hearts of the defenders with dread.
It had taken some time, but the humans and dragons had finally realized
where El Nureenen had assembled the huge armies and immense war creatures.
His fortress wasn't anything of the kind. It was a mausoleum, a crypt where
some force had interred the dead of an entire race. The odd, inwardly
sloping pentagon was the top of an immense dodecahedron some 40 kilometers
deep. Inside could be literally trillions of bodies of whatever had once
lived here and had left only a single building to mark their passing.
She gave orders for the mobile forces to be ready, she ordered the
artillerists and engineers to prepare to move the catapults, ballistae and
other, smaller siege engines, the trebuchets could remain behind to rain
stone and fire on the enemy. There was the usual grumbling, but they set to
their work.
That at least is normal, she thought as she glanced skyward again, a
streak of black slammed into one of El Nureenen's flying monsters. The
force of the blow snapped its back and the claws and fangs that passed by
moments later shredded its wings, leaving the semi-living thing to thrash
helplessly all the way down to the ground and the forces beneath it, then it
spread more carnage to those it landed on and near as it thrashed around in
its death agonies. The black dragon had already climbed to disappear in the
clouds. It was classic Scholarly Dragon, cause as much havoc among the
enemy as possible, but she knew it wouldn't last. She could feel El
Nureenen's spell that would break the cloud cover he had probably summoned.
Yet the spell twisted, bent and crumbled up, as if it had met a barrier it
could not penetrate. The clouds remained where they were. Asuka wished she
could have seen the demigod's pretty face when for once he was balked.
She watched the troops assemble and she examined the skies
occasionally. Then she saw it, the enemy's left flank was in the air, she
could disobey orders to remain in reserve and possibly break the enemy
apart, or stay a good, little solder and fight where the High Command
commanded. She glanced at Anna and several of the battalion leaders.
They'd all seen it.
She raised her voice to the Red Dragons, "Let's go get ourselves some
medals and a court martial." It wasn't a very rousing speech, but it got a
cheer. The Red Dragons believed in winning, not playing war by the rules.
She remembered Jeff's reassurances, she buried the resulting emotions.
They had a ridgeline to screen their movements and the scouts to inform
them of the developing situation. She'd left about a third of the infantry
to form the reserve the rest of the army might need. The creature they'd
released and followed here had continued to clear the skies of all
opposition, as aerial untenability became aerial superiority, then aerial
supremacy as more dragons took to the skies to hunt the crippled or
pack-attack the slower targets.
Many of the dragons in the Red Dragons and their allies in the Camilenn
Order bridled at being mere APCs while Death danced in the skies, but that
was what was needed, the shock effect of their aerial attack would come in
coordination with the ground attack. Those carrying the assembled catapults
and ballistae, needed to get into position _now_, but the artillery had to
stay with the rest of the force.
First time the artillery outruns the cavalry, she thought sardonically,
then glanced at the many non-flying 'cold' drakes. She knew they secretly
loved that they finally had a ranged weapon, albeit human-crewed, but they
could finally match the fire of their more majestic brethren. They broke
into the open area, still screened from the enemy, and formed swiftly,
received word the situation hadn't changed. The cavalry charged, the first
barrage of 'Greek fire' sailing into their enemy from the flanks. As soon
as Asuka crested the rise that hid them, she leveled her lance and for a few
moments was lost to the power of the charge. The enemy hadn't reacted to
their presence, so much noise from everywhere else on the battlefield, the
fliers were supposed to keep them aware, but the fliers were dead or
fighting for their lives. Asuka watched the distance shrink, then their
foes saw and started to react, but it was too late. The lances went home,
spitting the creatures easily, then they broke away, leaving the lances that
couldn't be withdrawn. Archers saturated the area with fire arrows and
artillery added its might before the lighter lancers went in to complete the
slaughter.
Suddenly, everything changed. Every eye on the battlefield was drawn
to the figure on the battlements. Beautiful didn't cover it, this was the
most spectacular sight anyone had ever seen. The natural world held nothing
to compare to his beauty and majesty. Asuka tightened her grip on her lance
as her voice rang out and broke the spell, at least among her troops. That
beautiful face and gentle expression was a fraud. She'd seen that gentle
face smile as some victim was ripped open or torn apart. The smile would
brighten with each scream and each plea for mercy. Asuka pitied any
beautiful, gentle-looking nonhuman she or any of the Red Dragons ever
encountered, their first instinct would be to kill them instantly, on the
spot.
High above, now the province of the creature Asuka and the others had
released, the other dragons traversed the sky out of professional courtesy,
or because it couldn't be bothered. Now it screamed its rage and fury.
Asuka watched in disbelief as El Nureenen, the demigod who slew at will,
blanched and retreated. Asuka almost didn't call for another charge, but
she realized as the creature stooped towards the fortress, that they needed
to get to the roof to support it, and the enemy was in the way. The charge
fell on a demoralized, almost disinterested enemy, as if the spirit that had
animated the Army of El Nureenen had been withdrawn. It wasn't fighting, it
was a slaughter or butchery. Asuka eschewed her lance, even her
sabre-halberd, and used a sword, although she was not as skilled. Riding
among the foe swinging left and right, slicing heads as she rode. It was
more like a training exercise than anything else, although typically in
training it was melons on poles or bundles of straw, not heads. And the
other knights and lancers followed her example, the infantry followed close
behind, finishing off anything the cavalry missed. Other units on the field
developed their own methods, they had the opportunity to slaughter their
enemy easily and entirely. If the black dragon did little more than provide
them this chance, it had already given them an incredible advantage.
They reached the walls, Asuka looked around. The engineers were
rushing forward with scaling ladders. Asuka signaled the dragons forward,
to get the cavalry onto the huge roof. She could hear the angry shouts and
the shattering of stone, she didn't want to think about the duel between
those two monsters. Alwyk, the silver dragon landed beside her, she'd
always thought he was the largest creature she'd ever seen, even his sinuous
bulk was dwarfed by the creature who was flying over the roof. She swung
herself onto Alwyk's back, Anna joined her. She never understood how Jeff
and the wranglers taught the horses to tolerate being lifted by a dragon, or
even stand still around one.
The creature was smashing its fists through the almost unbreakable
stone work of the fortress, it was shouting El Nureenen's name and 'Here I
am!' as it battered through the stone. Her moment of exhilaration ended as
Alwyk landed, setting down the horses and allowing the two women off his
back.
"I hope you brought that," Alwyk shouted as he returned to get more
troops.
Asuka mounted, the dragons were dropping off more troops. Engineers
anchored rope ladders and hurled them down to allow more infantry to climb
to the roof. The immense black dragon had unroofed a whole amphitheatre
once hidden under the roof's stonework. As Asuka and some hundred knights
and lancers galloped up to this opening, they saw it had cornered El
Nureenen. Rubble had clogged all the exits, the dragon had shattered those
gateways as the rest of the force scrambled to get up here. Now the only
escape was into the air, where the huge, black dragon had already proved its
excellence. She'd never seen a dragon fight the way this one did, never, it
looked ridiculous until you watched it. Typically the intelligent ones
turned broadside, to allow them to attack with their teeth or tail, although
few risked their head against a major opponent. This almost looked like a
fan dance as skilled as Sally Rand's. The dragon used his swirling wings
and the dust it raised to confuse the eye. The strike could be from the
tail, or a front or rear clawed leg. Then its head darted out. Rather than
strike to bite, it unleashed its breath weapon at a range of a few meters.
The force drove El Nureenen back a pace, it was clear he was completely on
the defensive physically. El Nureenen spoke his spells, the weapon no one
could stand against, but the dragon chanted and danced his own
counterspells, and kept on striking. The relentless attack pressed the
demigod back, its flowing robes were growing more tattered.
Asuka watched the faces assembling, soldiers, generals, dragons,
others, all watching the battle as if it were a gladiatorial game. The
silence of those who watched made eerie counterpoint to the grunts, shouts,
spoken spells and snarls of the pair fighting. Asuka wished she could toss
the dragon a weapon, instead of claws and tail, it might be able to wield
one in each limb. Asuka relished the look of growing concern that was
infecting El Nureenen's expression. On anyone else, such an expression
would have all but dragged a person forward to offer comfort and sympathy,
surely no one so beautiful should be so troubled. Instead those who watched
and waited enjoyed that the battle was not going as expected. El Nureenen
had also discovered that this dragon's wings were not the fragile things
they were on most dragons.
Asuka recognized the tricks, playing against El Nureenen's assumptions,
playing against his expectations. Despair was the result. The dragon's
claws ripped through the creature's robes, drew its blood, despair turned to
rage, but this was no time to give vent to its rage. The dragon's jaws
closed on the charging demigod, crushing him in half. El Nureenen shrieked
for an instant, laying a curse on its slayer. An entire concept forced into
one brief cry of outrage.
As the shriek died away, everyone glanced at each other, wondering what
was next. So many years, so many losses. Someone cheered, but it wasn't
widely picked up and it died away quickly. Only the sound of the wind on
the banners, so oddly loud, broke the silence after the noise of battle.
The creature raised his head, stared at those surrounding it, then it
launched itself into the air. Every eye tracked it as it headed out and
away from the army, their camps and the huge graveyard where they had interr
ed their lost.
Asuka looked down at the ruined amphitheatre, she just felt empty. No
one seemed eager to celebrate, they turned away in ones and twos, the forces
would reassemble below. If it really was over, they would have to have
transport. That would take weeks, her mind was already turning to
schedules, and units, and other logistical concerns. Tedium as defense.
The dragon hadn't arrowed back towards the cavern she and the others had
released it from. That could mean anything, but it was something she had to
find out.
----------------------------------------
There Is A Strong Shadow Where There Is Much Light
The Meliorist walked alone, she'd sent away her bodyguards, and her
warhorse. The dell was between two hills. The bulk of the creature was
disguised from the camp, but it could see all that was going on.
"Hello?" she called.
Oh what witty repartee, she thought as she advanced, What are you so
nervous about? If he'd wanted to kill anyone, he could have done it by now!
She left out that she doubted anyone could have stopped him. The massive
eyes opened, regarded her neutrally. All she could think of was _BIG_!_
She knew warships were all much larger, but only the E-boats could match
this creature's speed and acceleration. In the air, even the
schnellbombers, even the British Mosquito couldn't approach the power and
maneuverability it displayed, and it was larger than any 4-engined aircraft
she'd ever seen, or heard of. Only the BV238 flying boat even approached
its size, even that monster was dwarfed by this one.
"To what do I owe the pleasure? Virgin sacrifice?"
She blushed at that, she'd taken lovers in the past, that was not
widely known or bandied about, but it would have precluded her from such a
selection, "I - " she squeaked, cleared her throat, "I came up to see you."
"I'm not in the mood for a riddle contest and I have no hoard to
burgle. So you must have another motive."
"I -," she paused, tried to continue, her eyes kept being drawn to his
skin. Other dragons had scales, rectangular or diamond-shaped plates that
overlapped, or leathery smooth skin. This one seemed to have tightly-packed
round scales set in the skin, like water smoothed stones set in cement. The
stones were vaguely opalescent, the thin lines of skin between defined
blackness better than any description. Nothing could be that dark.
Especially not under the sunlight.
Suddenly the dragon struck out. Asuka had no chance to move or dodge,
but the head turned aside and instead she was presented with a long stretch
of exposed neck, right within her reach.
"Satisfy the scientist's curiosity," the creature rumbled, "You always
were more of an engineer than you cared to admit."
She took the barb without comment, what the statement implied worried
her more than the presence of the dragon. Only three people teased her so,
Dr. Schikelgrubber was no dreamer, Anna was back at camp, the third . . .
She touched the skin to help banish that thought, it was warm and her
impression of smooth stones in cement was borne out. The scales were hard,
the skin between more like wood than any leather. She hadn't the faintest
idea how the combination had resisted the barrage they'd fired at it. Some
of the heaviest bows and crossbows could drive a chisel-tipped bolt through
2 cm of cast iron. Even more surprising was the creature's evident
flexibility, the armor couldn't be the single, solid piece it appeared to
be.
"Satisfied?" he asked.
"More curious than ever," she admitted. The rumbling chuckle
frightened her a bit, as if she'd encountered a mirthful locomotive. "I
apologize for shooting you, for ordering the firing."
"If I hadn't wanted to be fired upon, I wouldn't have gotten close," he
admitted.
"One question above all others," she managed, she hadn't quite leapt
back with a frightened squeak when it - he - laughed at that, but it was a
near thing.
"Ah, the most difficult question first. The answer is your friend died
bravely, killing what I was." He said it coldly, matter-of-factly, as if it
didn't matter, maybe it didn't, to him.
Asuka felt her heart sink even as her knees gave way. She covered her
face with her hands as she heard the dragon withdraw, leaving her alone with
her grief.
I killed him, she told herself, He walked into the middle of my stupid
scheme and died, died to rescue me from my own incompetence.
"Why? Why!? WHY!?" she screamed at no one and nothing in particular.
God had long ago quit answering, and she could trust nothing else in the
upper and lower realms.
"Because he loved you. Because he thought he could win. Because his
mortal body in the Waking World had died and he needed to see at least two
people he cared about be able to carry on," the gravelly, deep voice of the
dragon sounded oddly sympathetic, "I know his thoughts, his feelings, they
are not wholly mine, nor are they the rage at the world that created it,
that was the Daimorigon. I am both, each and neither, all at the same
time."
Suddenly Asuka was flat on her back, the massive clawed hands pressing
her down, the rage that boiled in those yellow pupilless eyes terrified her
beyond description. Its breath stank of acid, ozone and charred wood.
"And I will not allow you to destroy yourself out of some misplaced
sense of atonement!" The pressure eased, the massive hand was removed,
giving Asuka a very good look at the size and strength of the talons, the
rock dust showed they'd been driven almost 70 centimeters into solid rock.
"He was a grown adult who made a decision, the same command decision you and
he have had to make hundreds of times before, 'Who lives and who dies'.
Don't dishonor his memory by taking the coward's way out. You have a
responsibility to Germany, and the human race. I've seen bits and pieces of
battles against the things your Unit 02 was built to fight. They are
terrible past any nightmare you could ever dream. And only you can lead the
forces that will rise up."
"There is a Japanese pilot," Asuka said, still unable to fully absorb
all the events.
"Japanese? Oh that's rich. 'Yes Commander-san, No Commander-san, Fall
on my sword? Of course Commander-san, I serve the Emperor.' A
_thinking_German_ soldier nearly made the dreams of Napoleon and the Caesars
a reality, do you really believe that you can rely on anyone else to do the
job?"
Asuka didn't, the rumors she'd heard about the Japanese pilots, the
dragon's prejudices were eerily accurate. Over 20 had been slaughtered in
testing, she and Anna were the only German pilots and they had not
sacrificed them that way. She well knew that a veteran was worth two to
three trainees, talent was no match for thought and experience.
"So are you going to demand an oath?" she asked, almost flippantly.
"I am going to demand you do your best. I'm going to demand Asuka
Soryu Langley prove she is as good as she thinks she is, prove she's better
than that, that no obstacle, not her own ego or any external foe or
stupidity will prevent her from accomplishing this," the dragon said with
all seriousness, "I don't need an oath, or your word, I know you."
Asuka shifted uneasily at that. "So what do I call you? Jeffery or
Mister Davis . . . don't seem appropriate."
"You often called me 'The Scholarly Dragon,' I see no reason to change
that."
"Very well. You're fighting style had a number of flaws," Asuka joked.
"A little Savate, mostly brawling," the Scholarly Dragon said.
"Maybe you need something better," Asuka suggested.
"Dragon Kung Fu?"
"Why not something more modern? Shorinji Kempo was developed in the
1930's."
The dragon snorted, "Right. Someone skilled and stupid enough to train
a dragon some fighting arts, there's nobody like that in this whole
universe," the dragon said.
Asuka grew serious. "I . . . I need to know what happened, all of it,
I want . . . I want to know how he died."
"You won't like much of what I tell you."
"I'll - I'll survive," she said.
I always survive, she thought morosely.
(1) Miskatonic University
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