I am sending this for Miashara as his e-mail is messed up and can recieve
mail, but can not send it. Please send any comments or C&C to
s2mlmill@titan.vcu.edu.
~Nika
Chapter 6
In a small, well furnished suite in downtown Seattle, two women sat in an
empty room. They were neither speaking, nor reading, just waiting.
The decor lent itself to quiet introspective waiting, everything being
muted shades of blue or green with an admirable dash of white thrown in. The
thick carpet, white, muted any noise, and the couches were perfect for
reclining.
If one was to pay very close attention to the furniture, and one knew
what to look for, the construction of it would be quite surprising.
Underneath the silk was reinforced leather, of utilitarian variety. It was
durable but in and of itself none too sightly, this the reason it was
covered. The frames were made of reinforced steel
and the stuffing, which was copious, was flame retardant. In fact, one would
almost assume the furniture was designed to be makeshift bulwarks and
fortifications, should violence erupt inside
the room.
This assumption would not be too far from the truth.
More important to the matters at hand, though, were the two women
themselves, not the sofas upon which they reclined. They wore remarkably
similar expressions of concern and worry, and scarcely five minutes would
pass without each checking either her watch or the single hanging wall clock
several times.
The wall clock was not particularly ornate, though it was made in the
fashion of a line of chronological instruments by a quite famous designer. He
was well known in the world of such things as having excellent taste and
creativity, but even he would
doubt the clock itself was worthy of the amount of attention heaped on it by
these two women.
The clock itself was not the subject of such obsessive attention. It was
merely the chosen representative of an aspect of the world which held the
room's occupant's minds so tightly in its grip.
Time is like that when one is waiting for something or someone. The fact
that those present were unsure whether the ones tey were waiting for would
actually return made it even worse.
After what seemed like an eternity, which was in actuality only two
hours, twenty three minutes, and seven seconds, the primary door to the room
opened and admitted a figure.
Stepping lightly across the room, silently due to the thick and auditory
impeding aforementioned carpet, the figure walked forward until it was in
front of a large "Laz-E-Bum" recliner. The figure lowered itself into the
chair and crossed its gloved hands.
No one spoke but two faces held a question that was silent only in
technicality. If one was in the room, it would almost be possible to hear the
women thinking.
Their answer was a shrug and an attempt at a reassuring smile. The smile
failed.
===
In a different room almost twelve thousand miles away, silence was quite
the antithesis. Like the previous room, its occupants were two women and one
man. Unlike the previous room, they were being anything but quite.
"God Damn!" one swore. She was actually speaking a
language few men alive would understand. It was technically a dead language
and unlike Latin, not even written records or pronunciation guides were
believed to exist.
This did not prevent these three individuals from speaking it fast and
fluently.
"Containment Circle 3 just broke! Analysis spells are reading a Blue
level fluctuation!" The second woman screamed. She was clinging desperately
to the steel grounding pillars imbedded around the room in a pentagonal
pattern.
"Angel, get Blade out of here! Her power signature is going to make the
fourth line rupture!" The single man in the room was standing about three
feet above the floor, bathed in light. The light
itself flickered through the colors of the rainbow almost faster than the eye
could distinguish. The man's hands were spread wide and he was beginning a
fast, low spoken chant.
The exact object of their anxiety was easy to discern. In fact, the forty
foot maelstrom of energy, its corona of green and blue lightning, and the
screaming noise of what could almost be damned souls rather dominated the
room, even one as large as this.
The tempest of wild magic, which seemed so intent of shattering all the
carefully placed wards and ruling lines, was flaring like a solar eruption.
To Shin, it was better than an I-Max movie.
His personal protection circle, circumscribed by a floating pentagram of
white ice, was only a few inches from the fourth line, the second to last
remaining shell of protection. If number four broke, it would be his life to
pay. Of course, the fifth line might be capable of restraining the growing
vortex, but it was most unlikely. It made him want to flee for the hills.
Of course, he knew that leaving now would be his death
anyway. If this terminal shattered, Interpacific Line Four would be free to
vent itself into the world.
'More importantly, I'd be at ground zero.' Shin finished his incantation
and mind dove into the aura level.
His vision abruptly went skew in that way only aura riding could make it.
Red, blue, and yellow left, replaced by swuan, clour, and sut. Meager things
such as walls and the sky faded out, replaced by the far more colorful flow
of energy and night-tides.
Of course, viewed this way, the geyser of raw occult power made fluid
looked a whole lot scarier.
As the fourth line was retraced with bloodpower, a little of his soul was
used to seal any cracks that might have appeared. Then he ripped aside the
wards on the dome, letting the protection from scrying fade.
Now that they were no longer reinforced with magic, the shingles that
made up the roof were barely able to contain the tornado emanating from the
first circle. The room became open to the air within an instant and a column
of light roared nearly half a
mile up. The containments worked however, and it only went up, not to either
side at all..
That vanguard of the coming eruption dispersed, the belabored individual
prepared to redraw the third line. Unfortunately, as his efforts began to
bend themselves to that purpose, the sheer magnitude of even this comparative
trickle of energy defeated him. There was no way he could block that much
energy. He needed the siphon wires, and he needed them immediately.
He had no sooner come to this conclusion then a call of
"Catch!" rang forth, and he felt the bundled end of the wires land on his
outstretched palm. Without looking to see who had provided the lifeline he
needed in such a timely manner, he planted them at the five apex points of
his circle.
The wires worked perfectly. The twenty million dollars
spent on them alone during the building of the station was instantly made
worthwhile. The might of the arcane swirl leapt immediately to the conductors
and flowed straight into the massive cold iron grounding pillars.
The third and second lines were reworked in moments and Shin was able to
step from his ward of protection to move towards the first circle.
Every step was like fighting against a current. His feet clung to the
floor and lifting them was almost impossible. The force pushing him backwards
was so great he leaned forward until he was almost walking parallel to the
ground. He used his hands now and crawled, though it seemed like he was
climbing a
mountain, not walking across the floor of a basement. When, after nearly ten
minutes, he crossed the ten foot space to the first line, he was almost
exhausted. Fortunately, the first line was only some five feet in diameter
and would no be too difficult to reseal.
Forsaking his ceremonial knife, he drew his left palm across the blade
built into his belt for just that purpose. Reaching up slowly, fighting the
pressure, he finally managed to grasp his goal, a white chalk line on the
floor. He curled his fingers around it in a flagrant denial of the three
spatial dimensions and clenched his fist tight.
The resulting blast of force ripped his feet from the floor, and he
dangled, sideways, a few inches into the air. His hand was still clenched
around the white ring, and in his skewed perception, it seemed he was hanging
from the edge of a wall, dangling over
the abyss.
In a way he was. The force acting on his body would easily accelerate him
to terminal velocity within the thirty feet between him and the stone walls.
If he survived that pressure, the sudden deceleration at impact would be
quite sufficient to finish the job.
But his grip held, and as the blood slowly pumped from his body,
replenishment of the inner circle of containment began. Renewed, the circle
was again closed, though slowly, and the magic was again checked and
restrained.
Rising, exhausted to his feet, the watcher and trouble shooter for the
massive jump line staggered away from the center of the mandala that confined
and bound the jump line. His hand hurt from the cut, even though it was
healed, and the difficulty of holding onto the line. Still, he was alive. A
little pain was certainly better than the alternative.
Slow, steady applause greeted his ears as he stepped away from the final
series of lines and runes. He looked up wearily.
A man dressed in the long white robes of the Pale Circle greeted him. His
eyes were pale green, no white or pupil. That alone made Shin attempt a quick
salute. If someone had enough aptitude to undergo the first sign, they must
be high in the Pale Circle indeed.
It was the second thing Shin noticed though which made him try to refine
the salute. Small, white shapes moved under the man's skin, slowly crawling
or swimming behind the veil of tissue. Shin realized he must be in the
presence of one of the directors, perhaps even a Judge.
"Relax, Shin. You're too tired to salute properly anyway." The voice was
soft and smooth, no doubt carefully trained. Shin happily dropped the
formality and staggered towards a chair. He hoped his rudeness would be
forgiven, but it was either the chair or collapse at his visitor's feet.
"Yes, be seated. I would like to talk to you, and I doubt you'll be able
to listen to me any other way." The white robed man smiled as the younger one
dropped to the seat. He barely moved, and though he stood straight backed, he
seemed to be resting as
well.
"What can I do for you?" Shin gasped out.
"When Blade and Angel came through the gate, what caused the accident?"
"It was Blade. She was badly injured and as a result was barely able to
make the jump." Shin stopped for a moment pant. "She was clutching a box with
her when she emerged. It looked like she had made the jump without
preparation."
"She made the whole dive without being properly ready? She is a powerful
woman."
"I guess. Whatever it was, though, she exited sloppily and clipped one of
the lines. The tide was exceptionally high anyway and that was all the lines
needed." Shin regretted the last sentence the moment it left his mouth. Of
course this man would know the tides were high.
The tides were the comparative levels of magic running through the jump
lines at any given moment. Different things affected whether or not the tides
rose and fell, the most common being the number of people who had died
recently. Since Russia had just launched a major offensive against the Mill
forces, one of the armies which was currently trying to carve an empire out
for itself, the lines were running at the brink. Of course, the fact that
Russia was none too concerned with accidentally bombing one of China's major
arms stations didn't hurt. It looked like another big one was brewing.
"Yes, they are high, aren't they." It wasn't a question. "Well,
congratulations, Shin. You've done well." The gentleman turned to go.
"Thank you, sir."
"Oh, how silly of me, I forgot to tell you my name. I'm Judge Phiros."
With that the man left.
"Oh my God," Were Shin's last words spoken aloud before the strain caught
up with him. The realization of who he had just spoken with overwhelmed him.
He slipt blissfully into unconsciousness.
===
In the silent room, the taller brunette checked her watch for the tenth
time in half as many minutes. This finally managed to make the other woman
speak.
"Carin, I'm sure they'll be fine. They're just somewhat delayed," Nadia
spoke with the intent to pacify. Unfortunately, the fact that she was just as
nervous gave lie to her words.
Carin just looked at her for a second and resumed her agonizing waiting.
The silence descended like a blanket again.
It was several hours later that the door finally opened to allow two more
figures access. Damion came in first, walked to the single open couch, and
sat. Kyle followed.
Carin looked at Kyle with a near panicked expression. He smiled and
squeezed her hand, mouthing, 'I'm fine. Hold on.'
The fivesome sat, everyone scrutinizing someone else. Nadia and Carin
were each looking the new arrivals over, reassuring themselves by noticing
there were no visible wounds. Kyle and Damion were each staring straight at
Sagawa with hard, flat gazes. Sagawa was looking anywhere but at the others.
After some few moments of this, Damion finally spoke, "What was that?"
Sagawa opened his mouth and shut it several times before answering. "All
right, so that might have been just a bit of an overkill."
"My dear friend, that was not overkill. When you brought the Uzi to the
knife fight, that was overkill."
Sagawa didn't respond.
"The portable rocket launcher at the pistol duel, that was overkill."
Silence greeted him again.
"Hunting that Buick with an F-14, that was overkill."
Sagawa looked abashed.
"Fifty thousand gallons of gasoline was more than just overkill!"
"It wasn't that bad."
"You used a half dozen sticks of dynamite as a detonator!"
"I wanted a mid-sized explosion."
"You destroyed two and a half city blocks!"
"It was a park. There was no one there."
Kyle spoke up. "I was." He looked down at the tattered remains of his
clothing, sticking to his skin with sweat and blood. "And while I admit, the
ride through the Macy's Super Store was quite entertaining, did you have to
break my fall with a cement mixer?"
"That wasn't my fault. I didn't know you were going to be there," Sagawa
defended himself weakly.
Kyle began to develop a sudden twitch in his right eye.
"Very well, what's done is done." Damion held up a hand
and stopped what appeared to be an argument in the budding. It had taken him
a moment to regain control, but now he was calm again. "We shall let that
rest. While the situation did not call for the measures taken, the end result
was the desired. Page was eliminated. However, the other courier was still
able to make a jump. Since in all probability she succeeded in getting to the
ley line, we must assume she arrived in Nepal.
"We're going after her. To Nepal."
Dead silence greeted this statement.
In the late double ohs and early teens of the third millennia, Russia had
sank so low into poverty and depression that its economy reverted to barter
in many places. The NATO allied nations had banded together and had bought,
stolen, or destroyed every nuclear missile of Russian origin they could. The
money
from these transactions had stopped the slide into desolate poverty.
The Chinese were in an equally bad situation. With the fall of their
communist government, the Sang Kin Revolution, and the devastating drought
which struck in 2013-2015, China was in shambles. From them America also
bought, stole, or acquired every nuclear weapon they could get their hands
on.
Thus the two major powers in eastern Asia were brought low and their
military might was a fraction of what it had previously been. There was a
power vacuum in Asia, and nature abhors a vacuum.
A series of indeterminate border conflicts, minor wars, and genocidal
attempts erupted in Asia, rapidly bringing most of the continent down. Most
of the foreign nations, including Japan, the United Kingdom, and the U.S.
pulled as much of their investments out of Asia as they could and waited to
see who would turn out on top. The only two local powers who were not also in
a state of horrible poverty and desolation, India and Pakistan, were too busy
staring each other down and hating each other to take an active
part.
Finally, in the very early twenties, all the little wars began to die
down and taper off. They were replaced by one big war. Mongolia had somehow
managed to make itself the region's most advanced nation and decided that the
empire of Ghengis Kahn needed a sequel. Attacking everyone within reach, that
previously unimportant nation had managed to set a wild blaze of conflict
going.
By the year 2032, Asia was one big red zone. Any travel
there was not recommended, and most nations were remaining as neutral as they
could. Since nuclear weapons were not being used and in most cases, not even
available, the general agreement of those not already involved was to contain
the conflict but not to
actually get drawn into it.
Into this mess Damion was planning to dive, no doubt bringing his
erstwhile companions with him. The reaction he received was not as erstwhile
as he could have hoped.
"I'll go make coffee." Carin rose and left.
"I'll go reload." Sagawa rose himself and departed as well.
"I'll go take a shower." Kyle dragged his ash covered frame from the
chair, leaving some of what had once been his clothing there. He walked out,
each step leaving a light sprinkling of soot on the floor. "I'll ask if
you are completely insane," Nadia said. She did.
===
In the kitchen several minutes later Carin had just finished
making her drink. She was also almost talking to herself. It had taken all of
her mental energy not to pounce on Kyle when he had come through the door,
looking like he had been blown up. When
she had found out he had been exploded, it had taken even more of her mental
power to stay in control. Now, alone, she was seriously considering having a
small fit.
With some noise, the door to the kitchen was opened and Kyle, slightly
damp but clean, entered. He stepped forward until he was next to her and
opened his mouth to speak.
That did not get very far though as she turned and almost desperately
clung to him. He was slightly taken aback by this, and initially his return
hug was almost tentative. A moment later though, when he had got his bearings
back, he returned the embrace fully. The two of them stood like that for
several minutes.
"I'm okay. There's nothing to worry about." Kyle took a guess at what was
the cause of her distress.
There was no reply but several seconds later Carin eased back a little
and looked up at him. "Are you? Isn't there?"
"Nope. I'll admit, getting blown up wasn't the single most pleasant
experience of my life, but I'm fine. I was a little bit away from the blast."
"But you said you went through the Macy's? Wasn't that walls and stairs
and knives?"
"It was the clothing section. Actually, it hurt a lot less than when I
fell off the roof with Rose. That was no fun at all." Kyle looked down and
smiled wryly. "Worried about my eventual demise?"
"Kyle, you were blown up. Detonated. The news had a special breaking
story about the explosion you were in."
"I was on TV? Wow."
"That's not what I meant! After those two sisters surprised you and we
lost contact, then Sagawa tells us you two came out the back wall, then there
was the car chase and the crash, the explosion, then Sagawa loosing contact,
then central-" Realizing she was beginning to babble, Kyle reembraced her,
and she
stopped after a moment. She clung to him again, scared.
After many more minutes, Kyle pulled far enough away to see her face. He
was startled to note tears.
"Carin, it's-"
"No it's not! You're going out and nearly dying! And you're going to keep
doing it! And even if you stopped, Damion says the Dynasty would still never
leave us alone. And it's just going to keep happening, again and again and
again. We're never going to be fine again. And I get to sit in the back with
Nadia, scared out of my mind, looking through your eyes at fighting and
violence moving so fast I can't even imagine it. People are trying to kill
you! And I'm totally helpless and I can't do anything. I'm just-"
"Carin, stop."
"But I-"
"No. Stop. Listen to me. Calm down. Come on, calm."
There was several seconds of silence.
"It's just I feel so worthless while you're out almost getting killed.
You're Gifted, and I'm just me. Even Nadia has some special abilities,
besides the fact that she graduated at some ridiculous rate."
"And Sagawa could shoot the wings off a fly at five hundred yards?"
"Yeah. And Damion's, well, death gift-wrapped."
Kyle laughed. "He is, at that, isn't he? Watching him move and fight is
amazing. I'm faster and stronger, but he's not even fighting. He dances."
"You're changing the subject."
"You're right. I admit it. I am. Are you okay now, though?"
"Not really but I won't break down ."
Kyle closed the embrace for a few seconds before continuing. "You're not
just dead weight."
"But what can I do? I'm not good at anything except managing a business
and deciphering high level economics trends. How can I help when our lives
now seem to be one big secret?"
Kyle was silent for a second before responding. "I'll admit, I don't
know. But, before you go that way again, wait. I may not know, but I'm not
the brains of this particular secret service movie
that dipped a bit too far into the Twilight Zone. I very much doubt Damion
brought you along if he didn't think there was something you could do and
needed you for."
Carin grunted. "There's that again. I always used to be in
control of my life. Then one thing after another keeps happening to me. I
never seem to be more than either excess baggage or a fifth wheel."
"Well, I can't help you much on that one. I do have a fairly strong
feeling though that you're not going to let that keep going for too long."
"We shall see."
After a moment she leaned forward again and rested against Kyle's chest,
enjoying the feel of him. Her head fit neatly against the side of his neck,
and she stood there, warm in his arms.
"Your coffee's getting cold."
"Let it."
===
"You know, I'm always surprised when we do something simple like take a
plane. I keep expecting dimensional teleportation and instantaneous movement
like the Dynasty. Even after all these years, I still expect to be living in
one of the stories." Sagawa
leaned against a bulkhead, idly assembling and disassembling a small pistol.
His only answer was a kick which stopped a hair's breath from his face. He
did not even blink.
In the center of the small clear space in the cargo bay of the jet, clad
in loose fitting white robes, the eldritch warrior was practicing a kata.
Alternately blinding fast and so slow he scarcely
moved, his entire body went through a complex and elegant dance. He had been
practicing the entire flight, and currently only the oriental gunman remained
in the hold with him. The others had all decided to wait either in the cabin
or the cockpit.
"Three weeks."
Damion stopped in his movements at this announcement. However, he did not
relax and was moving a second after, so it might just have been part of the
form. After several seconds he released a slight breath. "Is it getting
harder?"
"Not really. And we're almost done anyway. I should make it till then,
though not after."
Damion moved in silence for a short while 'til abruptly his body blurred
into motion with a whirlwind of strikes and blocks. He froze, one leg
extended. Then, after a long moment, placed his foot on the floor and turned.
"Will you be able to finish this?"
"I just said I will. It won't begin to impair me until the very end."
"That wasn't what I meant."
Sagawa did not reply.
"You can't back out now."
"We are in blood steeped so far that should we wade no more, returning
would be as tedious as going forward," Sagawa quoted as he ran a cloth across
the firing mechanism of the small pistol.
"Macbeth was alone."
"As are we."
No one said anything for several minutes. Sagawa finished cleaning his
hand weapon and reholstered it. The other man in the room simply slid neatly
into the next form.
"Still, death follows you like a desperate lover. You lead her on with
teases and winks so that she pursues you ever. And her heart is broken as you
jilt your maiden again and again, thus she is ever dallying with those around
you," Sagawa muttered quietly, his face grim.
"There is blood on everyone. You may kill at a distance, but you are as
drenched as I." Damion snorted as he began another form.
"I know. Fear not for me. I knew what I was getting into when we started
this mad ride of vengeance."
Damion didn't reply. He executed a perfect series of knife hand jabs and
struck twice with his foot.
Sagawa looked at him for a long moment before he grimaced and returned to
his weapons. "I need to start wearing gloves when I use these. I'm getting
powder on my hands."
===
In a different part of the plane, three people were discussing their
situation over several hands of cards.
"We can get to Japan without too much difficulty. I want to know how
we're going to go to Nepal from there. That's a lot of very unfriendly
terrain we're dealing with." Carin looked at her
cards and discarded a six of hearts to the pile.
"Something will turn up. Or, more likely, something has already been put
into place." Kyle took the card, placed it in his hand, and put the whole
thing down. "Canasta."
The two women looked at him for a moment, looked at the cards, and
sighed. He smirked and began to gather the cards.
"We can't go overland, that's just straight out," Nadia speculated as
Kyle began shuffling. "So that means we'll be travelling by air. The
straightest route would put us through the middle of China, which would be a
bad idea. So we'll most likely go south for a while and then turn west."
The door opened with a loud clicking noise and allowed the form of Sagawa
Ohito to make an ingress.
"Take a seat." Nadia indicated the remaining chair next to her. "Damion
still practicing in the back?"
"Yep. Where are we?"
"Over the middle of empty nowhere in the Pacific. There isn't any land
for hundreds of miles."
They played in silence for another few hands.
At that point, Damion stepped into the room. He was still
wearing his loose robes, and they clung to him with sweat. He was also
probably the only man alive who could make white clash with itself.
Nadia looked up and smiled. "Hi! Going to join the game?"
"No. I need to talk to the pilot." Without breaking stride he went
through the small room and passed into the pilot's cabin. The four seated at
the table received their cards and began the game.
They played through several rotations.
"Why do I suddenly have a really bad feeling?" Carin said, almost to
herself.
Those words hung in the air for a moment. Kyle looked at her curiously.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I'm just have this feeling of impending doom."
Damion's head pulled back into their room. "How long?" He demanded,
looking straight at Carin.
"Till what?" Was her response.
"How much time do we have? Till that impending doom?"
Carin leaned back slightly and into Kyle at this abrupt and peculiar
question. "I don't know. What do you mean?"
"Damn." Damion looked at her for a moment, weighing her with his eyes.
"Not long though."
"What are you talking about?" Nadia demanded.
"I hope you won't see."
Then the plane exploded.
===
"Did you hit them?"
"Yep. Blew the holy-"
"That is good enough. Your job is finished. I will be leaving."
"Sure you don't want to take me up on that offer, woman? I have a nice
warm bed all ready?" The man was careful not to press his suit too far. When
the three women had initially come aboard, Zu had gone too far. His burial
had been within the hour.
The woman shot him a look that reduced the temperature of the air around
them by thirty degrees. He silenced himself very suddenly.
The woman rose and turned to one of her associates.
"High altitude radar confirms collision, Mistress Cane. The resulting
debris has made further scanning accuracy negligible. Low altitude radar
reports a large amount of detritus from the explosion. Nothing is falling
slowly enough to be a parachute."
Cane nodded slightly and thought for a moment. "Very well, we will join
Star in the ship." The two women left.
After they had gone, the dingy and none too clean control room was silent
for a moment. Green and red lights flickered, bathing the missile firing
console in a rude glow and turning the radar model into a poorly made
simulacrum of a Christmas tree. The three men who remained were silent until
the women were long gone.
"The hell was that?" one asked.
"Shit if I know. Still, after being at sea for three months, don't give a
damn. I'm F'n A they're leaving. Damn creepy bitches," The man behind the
radar console replied. Throughout the whole encounter one of the women had
been standing over his head, watching him read the newly installed radar
screen. It had been put in that same day, within twenty minutes of their
arrival.
"You riding that straight," The other radar operative said. He was stuck
at the regular position, monitoring a long out of date and poorly maintained
short range unit.
"That's not the only thing I'd be riding!" The missile control man
boasted loudly.
"Pft. Neither of them's hot shit."
"Yeah, but they're all we got!"
A few minutes afterwards, in the captain's quarters, Mistress Cane
stepped in for just a moment. "It appears you were successful. We will be
leaving now."
The man behind the desk looked up from his magazine and stared at her.
"That's it?"
"Yes. Remember, any survivors are to be killed instantly. No hostages.
Save the bodies. We'll be back for them."
"Fine then. Go."
Within ten minutes the two women joined their companion on the small
yacht. The ship cast off quickly and was gone.
===
Soft steps echoed across the waiting room. A moment later a faint chime
was heard. The light above the ebon door blinked once, and the door clicked.
It was opened and passed through.
To some, the dim lighting the room on the other side would be
intimidating. To some it was frightening. To yet others it would just be
chafing. To the single person who stepped into it now, it was none of these.
The room itself, as well as the one who waited within, was such a complex
tangle of meanings and import, some
real, some false, that no particular part of it could be separated out to
have its own symbolism.
"Mistress Cane. How did your operation fare?" The man's mild voice came
out of the relative shadows.
The entire room was cool, with a faint breeze emanating from somewhere
unknown. The decorations, had they been visible, were muted and of gentle
hues. The ceiling, some forty feet above the floor, was a solid white.
"Everything went as planned. The target was eliminated. The entire Alpha
series was onboard at the time. Survival is considered very unlikely," The
woman spoke evenly, each word clear and succinct. She looked straight at her
superior the entire time; the darkness, while being encumbering to most, was
bright as day to one such as she.
"Good. Return to your waiting position and monitor both
the pirate ship and the waters. If the pirate vessel does anything to connect
themselves to us, kill them."
"There will be no survivors. Upon my life, sir."
As Cane turned to go, the man spoke from behind her. "There will be other
engagements, Mistress. Do not attack if you can't win. If you are forced to
make a choice, flee. You are infinitely more valuable alive then senselessly
dead."
"Yes, sir." With that she left.
The man sighed. Cane's pride would make it unlikely she would return
defeated.
"What's this? You want her to return without her shield?" The single
attendant stepped from the darkness herself. "Against mere mortals too?"
"Mere mortals with large weapons are not so mere. Should Cane find
herself on the wrong end of a high caliber weapon, she would be dead before
she knew it. Never underestimate mortals. And never die fighting because of
stubborn refusal to face facts. "
The woman smirked as she stood next to the single window. After a moment,
she pulled it open and spread wide the curtains. Sunlight filtered in and
brightened the room. The man behind the desk grimaced.
"You have one of the most beautiful vistas in existence right out your
window, we'll only be able to see it for a few months more, and you never
open the curtains." The woman sighed and moved over to take a chair by the
desk.
"Anything of special interest in your report?"
The woman perused it for a moment, though she already knew everything in
it. Finally she stopped at one part. "Janet Rose was judged fit for active
duty again. Her combat status has not been reimplemented yet. That should
come in a week. Until then, her rating is 'Support Only.' Her request to be
reassigned to a Triad was put in yesterday. She requests work in the Asian
theater."
"Have it lost in the paper shuffle for a few days. Until she's rated fit
for combat, I want her assigned to something in the organization." The
shadowed man sighed deeply. "I do not want her dead, not under any
circumstances."
"She won't be happy at all."
"I need her, and I need her alive."
"Twice in one day? Whatever happened to come back victorious or not at
all? Wasn't that always the old Spartan cry?"
"I lost too many close friends during the Peleponesian Wars because of
that cry. Men who would have been much better and far more useful alive later
than in a pile of human waste on a forgotten battle field."
"You won though."
"Hmpf. We won through sheer power. I was forced to personally lead ten
triads in the war. Ten! Against humans. Mere, mortal, normal, mundane humans!
We won because I threw something against them they had no way of resisting.
"And what happened? How long did our reign last? Less than a century. The
Eldritch came and struck us down without mercy. All that time and effort,
gone. It was centuries before we were a power in the world again. We could
have held our own! We could have resisted if in the final battle, seven of
the ten triads had not died pointlessly, refusing to retreat. We won that
battle yes, but our might was broken."
"And you blame this mentality for your loss all those years ago." The
woman eased herself into a seat and looked at the man.
"I'm a general. If I need to sacrifice troops, I will. If I need patience
and to keep my troops alive, I'll do that just as well. This is not a time
for the former." The man growled as he spit the words from his mouth.
"Peace, sir. I will do as you have asked. I'm sure I can have Rose busy
for quite enough time for her to fully heal."
Behind the desk, the ancient man relaxed a little into his chair. "Carry
on then. What's next in your report?"
===
In the middle of nowhere, in some forgotten back end of emptiness, there
was a rock. This rock, which some considered to be the largest rock in the
world, was vast and red, looking like some titanic scab the earth had thrown
over a giant cut it had received eons ago. It had sat in the same place for
time beyond
counting, from long before mankind had first discovered there were easier
ways to get something from your neighbor than simply bashing him over the
head and stealing.
Thus the fact that it was totally artificial and had been placed exactly
where it rested was something almost no one even considered. Never the less,
it was. It lay where it did, not a scab, but a cork.
For under this towering immensity of inanimate earth was a chasm. It was
roughly circular and only some hundred odd feet in diameter. It had a depth
which even the most sophisticated of instruments refused to measure. Of the
few hundred people who knew of its existence, the guesses of depth varied.
Sonic measurements all reported a total drop of nearly two miles, yet
explorers had gone down three miles on cable pulleys and had seen no end to
the dismal hollow.
It was called the Abyss by those who worked around or in it. Whether it
was natural or the project of some long forgotten race was a question unknown
to anyone.
While only a few handfuls of people knew it existed, there numbered only
three who knew the true nature of the pit. To them it was Jacob's Ladder. It
loomed in their minds, day in and day out. The vast emptiness that comprised
it sat in its absent immensity in their thoughts, choking out the concerns
for lesser problems. Jacob's Ladder was the end and the beginning.
Special thanks to my prereaders, DB Sommer and Phil Berman. Give them thanks
for making these chapters presentable, and pity for what they had to go
through to do so.
--
You know, 200 pounds of trinitro toluene, a couple thousand gallons of liquid
oxygen and hydrogen, and some thermite, just to give it that special friendly
touch. The usual.
Updated at least twice a year:
http://www.execulink.com/~stryker
Miashara