The Crane War

by Graeme Rodaughan

  A distant thrum came out of the sky. The sound grew louder, a pair of turbines ripping apart the night air over the warehouse. The drone appeared, descending straight down through the open roof into the warehouse. It sported a turbine on the end of each wing. The roaring engines were facing straight up, allowing the machine to land vertically like a helicopter. Once in the air, the turbines could turn ninety degrees to face forward allowing jet airliner performance. The tail of the drone rode high, a wide ramp opening beneath it allowing access to a cargo bay that could carry twenty troopers and all their gear, or easily hide three camouflaged chameleons.

  Movement caught the edge of James’ eye. Chloe appeared at the entrance to the alleyway carrying a black duffel bag. She’d changed out of her corporate suit into combat fatigues. Her sword was strapped to her hip and she shouted over the descending whine of the turbines. “James, are they here? Did they come?”

  James nodded. “Yes, but they vanished once the drone showed up.”

  She pursed her lips. “Stay here, I’ll find them.”

  “They -” James shouted.

  Chloe dropped her bag and vanished, her extraordinary speed eclipsing his ability to track her movement.

  “- didn’t like the recording,” he finished quietly. James sighed; he was completely outclassed by everyone around him. He glowered at the cooling drone and fingered the two-yard rip in the side panels of his SUV - something would have to change.

  He would have to change.

  * * *

  Chloe ascended to the roof of the warehouse and opened her senses up to their vampiric maximums.

  The early-autumn night filled her awareness. Five miles to the east, a commercial jet rumbled to its landing at JFK airport. Above her the clouds were a rumpled blanket of silvery grays, and satin blacks lit from beneath by the glowing effulgence of the surrounding metropolis. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair with the faint tang of approaching rain. Her nostrils flared, there was nothing of interest upwind of her position. She whirled to her left, staring down the length of the warehouse. Forty yards away, the three chameleons stood with casual insolence beyond the open roof-hanger doors.

  The female Shemina, glared avidly down at James and croaked once, a sound filled with ravenous inquiry. To her right, the leader Gullette, tilted his head and stared at Chloe, a slow grin arching across his reptilian face.

  The city behind Chloe was reflected in the dark orbs of his eyes, a pair of arteries rippling warm trails along the underside of his pale throat. His heart rate was slow and steady, a single beat every three seconds. All visible details that would disappear from view the moment he activated the chameleon power of his skin.

  Chloe suspected they were watching her as carefully as she was watching them. Deception would be difficult to hide from a predator with senses at least as good as her own. But deceive them she must, promises of shared power would never be fulfilled. She expected they knew she would betray them in the end and they would plan to betray her first. If a lion and a crocodile were stuck in a lifeboat, they could agree to row to shore for mutual benefit, but all bets were off once the shore had been reached. The chameleons would be useful before she accessed the Metaframe with the Key of Ahknaton safely in hand, but afterwards there would be no place for their species in her world.

  An apex predator is by definition singular - it was the last truth they would ever know.

  Chloe’s eyes tightened and she snapped, “He is protected!”

  Gullette urged, “Replace him. He is rich in flesh; strong, wet bones!”

  The other large male Kavanne, barked once, his head bobbing forward and back in agreement. Shemina edged toward the entrance into the warehouse her tail lashing, her mouth gaping open to drool.

  The Red Dragon appeared within Chloe’s grip, the tip of the blade pointing like Death’s own finger at a spot in the middle of Gullette’s forehead.

  The chameleon merely lowered his head slightly. His grin deepened, his eyes gleaming with reflected city light. “No armor?” he asked quizzically, his gaze locked on Chloe’s eyes. He waved his hand at the interior of the warehouse beneath them. “Yet you take such risk … he your mate?”

  Chloe smiled without mirth and stated with glacial hardness, “He is not for eating. Do not test me on this or at least one of you will die tonight.”

  The other chameleons stared at their leader, their bodies still as statues but poised for action. Gullette’s eyes narrowed momentarily, and he said, “The thin one. He stinks of poison. We not like.”

  “I’ll source a replacement.”

  Gullette spread his hands wide, talons uncurling in the gloom. His dark mirror eyes flicked over Kavanne and Shemina.

  “One each?”

  Gullette nodded once.

  Chloe sheathed her sword and said, “Then let’s descend and begin practicing for the first mission.”

  Gullette stared at Chloe, his eyes flat and hard. He barked once; a low sound filled with menace. “Kavanne’s call, it speaks of the dead, use it not.”

  Chloe blinked, then nodded once. From this moment on, the chameleons would be managed by James and transported in the drone. She shouldn’t need to call them again. She indicated the warehouse floor below with a flick of her head, and then leaped the sixty feet down to the polished concrete.

  The chameleons followed.

  Chloe landed in a crouch, stood up, and strode over to where James waited next to the SUV. She indicated the homeless man with a hand gesture, and ordered, “Get rid of this one, we need three more, and no sleeper darts. Be back here in an hour.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” James replied. He turned away, hoisting the homeless man like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and throwing him into the back of the SUV. A dozen seconds later, the SUV’s tires screeched over the concrete as he drove the vehicle into the rear alleyway.

  Chloe turned back to the chameleons and said, “I need you to catch me without harming me.”

  Gullette snorted, the others barked and coughed, then Gullette nodded once.

  Chloe fell into silence, stopped short of initiating a supreme Ramp, and blurred away.

  The chameleons vanished.

  Without her supreme Ramp, she couldn’t detect them, but then neither would her target. She had to ensure the chameleon’s capability to capture someone as fast as her maximum vampiric ability, absent the supreme ramp, without harming them. After all, it was imperative her target was kept alive and unharmed at all costs.

  No plan survives contact with the enemy, and victory goes to those who can adapt to advantage when circumstances change. Chloe was willing to bet her life on being the most adaptable player in the game against Crane.

  A game for the future of reality.

  * * *

  Chloe watched the New York City streets rolling past the car’s window, her mind a million miles away.

  The chameleons had performed well. There had been moments during the training that’d made her gasp. They had not taken advantage of her vulnerability and killed her while they had the chance. They still believed in the lure of power she’d dangled in front of them, at least enough to forestall casual violence.

  She closed her eyes, replaying the captures within her perfect memory. Had she been lucky to kill the first chameleon nine nights ago? The question was an uneasy one but necessary to ask. No, her supreme ramp was still a key advantage, but even with her extraordinary speed she hadn’t been able to both kill one chameleon and defend against Kavanne’s attack. The big chameleon’s strike had penetrated her defenses and kicked her across a street.

  The chameleons were diabolically fast and dangerous. Her normal vampiric speed, at the top of the upper range for vampires had enabled escape times that ranged from twenty-three seconds at best to twelve seconds at worst. Every vampire in the world was vulnerable to these near invisible creatures, and even a Ramp master with a speed talent would only last a handful of seconds longer.

  As dangerous as they were to handle, the
y were perfect for the mission she had in mind for them.

  The black SUV started to slow, Crane’s citadel looming over the street in front of them. Chloe glanced across at James. He’d been quiet since the training finished. Withdrawn, wary, he’d need a few words of encouragement. She tilted her head slightly and opened her mouth to speak to him.

  A ping resounded though the car, a Panopticon message appearing in a heads-up display on the interior of the SUV’s windscreen. It read, ‘Timestamp: 02:57:14. Target Hana Tanaka observation warning. Search duration post initiation 4:45:32. 15:00 minutes elapsed since last contact. Recapture protocol initiated.’

  “Damn!” James swore.

  Chloe watched him closely. Hana Tanaka was the technical specialist who was her best hope of getting rid of the killer implant next to her brain stem linked to Crane’s heartbeat.

  “I set the surveillance systems running on Tanaka nearly five hours ago. She’s bolted.”

  Chloe frowned. “Did your search tip her off?”

  James shook his head. “Not a chance. But she’s gone to ground. We need resources in Japan as soon as possible to find her.”

  Chloe hissed, a terrible frustration rising within her. Her fangs descended into attack position. James blanched, recoiling against the door. She blinked, sighing. Her fangs retracted, and she put her hand gently on his shoulder. “Don’t worry … setbacks happen. We can’t use Shadowstone in Japan without tipping off Crane. What other resources can we use?”

  “I’ll have to go myself.”

  Chloe shook her head. “No, you’re needed here with the chameleons. Keep the Panopticon searching for her. She’ll have to leave a trace sooner or later. We’re talking Japan, there are more cameras in Japan than people. Monitor the situation, she’ll turn up.”

  James assented, pulling the SUV to a halt in front of the towering skyscraper Crane used as the seat of his dominion.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Chloe advised. “But, assume you’re on a war footing at a battle front. Things are coming to a head, be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

  James nodded. “Yes, Chloe.”

  Chloe exited the car and walked through the main entrance into Crane’s citadel. After all the recent events, Crane would call a meeting before dawn. It was easier to be on site when the inevitable order came, and she could avail herself of a warm meal in the feeding halls while she waited. After all, she mused with a hard glint in her eyes, live food was always preferable to the plastic bags of re-heated blood in her penthouse.

  The solution to Crane’s implant would have to wait while events rushed forward to their conclusions. Events she planned on being able to shape. Crane had attempted to trap her with his implant technology, but there was always more than one way to deal with a problem.

  Chloe expected to exploit something Crane had missed. As clever as he was, it was impossible to anticipate everything.

  * * *

  Late afternoon sunlight slashed through high set windows and skylights into a deserted Tokyo warehouse.

  The building had been established post-war and had survived multiple attempts to rebuild it in the decades since. Winches and industrial-sized gray-steel hooks hung by dark chains from overhead gantries. Ancient shipping containers marked with faded kanji characters stood in orderly rows. They were flanked by lines of obsolete five and nine ton trucks, many draped with military style camouflage tarpaulins.

  Hana Tanaka moved down an open aisle between a row of steel containers and dusty vehicles. Her movements were barely audible beyond the soft tap of her sneakers, but stood out amongst the stillness of the warehouse. She strode confidently but her mind squirmed with doubt. She was relying on a brother and a sister she hadn’t seen or spoken to for more than five years. Fumio and Sakura were three years her senior and had been with the Yakuza for at least five years, and now she was seeking their protection.

  They’d not joined an ordinary Yakuza clan. The Akai Kage no Ichizoku, or Clan of Red Shadows, was secretive beyond anything she’d ever encountered. The last time she’d spoken to Fumio he’d warned her to stay away. That his world was not her world. That vampires were real and ruled in secret, and that only the Clan of Red Shadows could protect anyone from them, but she wouldn’t need protection if she kept a low profile. He had however, given her an address, this warehouse, and impressed upon her that she was only to come if her life was threatened by vampires. Sakura had simply warned her emphatically to never come to this place.

  She’d almost obeyed her older sister, but she had no one else to turn to, and nowhere else to go.

  The head of research of the Medical Control Systems unit had initiated the development of implants with a powdered silver payload and exotic sheaths that were rejected by human flesh. With her specialist knowledge, and her family’s awareness of the existence of vampires, it hadn’t been hard to join the dots. The implants were intended for vampires, and only their ruler would commission such a technology. It was an obvious conclusion that Control Systems Incorporated was owned by the king of the vampires.

  Then her manager had been murdered two and a half weeks ago, and she’d been promoted as his replacement. She’d been horrified by what had happened, not so much by the deaths of the previous head of research or the CEO, but by the fact that a similar fate was certainly waiting for her too.

  She’d been interviewed at length by a pair of government operatives from the Tokyo branch of the Bureau of State Security. They’d been polished performers, but they seemed more interested in understanding how much she knew rather than in solving the murders. She’d played her part with a straight face, revealing nothing of her suspicions. When the operatives departed the building and closed the investigation with a verdict of murder/suicide she’d made her decision.

  Hana had spent the next two weeks planning her escape. Her final act at Control Systems Inc was to wipe all the technical data for the ‘vampire,’ implants from the company’s networks, as well as destroying the off-site data backups. She’d downloaded a copy of the relevant engineering files to a portable data stick now resting in the front pocket of her tight-fitting blue jeans. It was best to have an insurance policy if she ever had to bargain for her life.

  Hana reached the end of the line of containers and trucks. A steel trapdoor stood open in the corner farthest from the entrance. There was no sign of her brother or anyone else. She paused for a long moment, then advanced to the edge of the opening in the floor.

  The trapdoor opened up onto a flight of concrete stairs. A single ancient fluorescent light lit the bottom of the stairwell.

  Hana descended; it was the only place she had left to go.

  Chapter Two

  “That the vast majority of humanity prefers a comforting illusion to a harsh reality has long aided my cause.” - Cornelius Crane

  * * *

  New York City, Cornelius Crane’s Citadel, September 11th, 03:01

  Cornelius Crane plumbed the depths of his precognitive powers.

  As the risk of death increased and the moment of final confrontation approached, Cornelius’ vision of the future solidified into ever greater detail. The normal array of options lit with varying amounts of probability had coalesced into a single bright line of near term events that approached certainty.

  Three threats had matured with terrifying swiftness. The most distant was the Red Empire fist team approaching from the east. Their slow speed indicated they were traveling by ship, most likely hidden within a cargo carrier. He would allow them to advance to landfall in early October; their fates would be determined by a trap he would lay within the island of Manhattan.

  Next was the looming confrontation with Mekra. Potentially, the most dangerous opponent he faced amongst the three. The Obsidian Claw ninja vampire sired from her tainted blood continued to elude his forces in China and make its way toward her donjon in the Carpathian Mountains. He dared not make a preemptive move against Mekra, as she appeared to be drawing her offspring toward her.
It was imperative the new vampire strain be extinguished before it spread and overtook the world. Waiting for the ninja vampire to either be caught on the way or trapped at Mekra’s donjon, was the best strategy. Three of his generals, Franz, Zhen and Mosule and their personal praetorians were scouring the Eurasian continent with the aid of the Panopticon. It would have to be enough; he had no further resources to commit to the search for the Mekrarian vampire.

  Then there was Anton Slayne, now shadowed by a second figure. Someone else with a tantalizing familiarity was moving into the frame and a final confrontation was imminent. The events of the last twenty-four hours had accelerated the timeline immensely. Somehow, Anton Slayne had become the most immediate threat to his life and without careful intervention that peril would be actualized with his own death.

  Whatever hostility Anton Slayne represented, it would manifest within the next twelve to twenty-four hours. Due to the closeness of the death cusp event, the young Slayne was resolved with mystic clarity revealing to some extent his location and intent. He was moving west from Minneapolis on an almost straight line toward the Panopticon.

  A fact that could not be an accident.

  As for the second shadow behind Anton Slayne, he’d never witnessed its like before. It stalked just beyond the boundaries of his supernatural perception. He pressed at it. Attempting to drag the identity of the shadow figure into the light through sheer force of will, a bead of perspiration appearing on his smooth forehead. The shadow slipped away, elusive, his efforts to capture it like clutching at fog.

  He pressed again for no result.

  Cornelius dropped out of his visionary state. He sat alone on an elegant seventeenth-century French divan in his library, as still as one of the statues in his personal quarters. Was the Panopticon the younger Slayne’s next target? If he succeeded in destroying it, what then? The Vampire Dominion would be blinded until the new Panopticon was commissioned at the East Coast Hub, deeply compromising his efforts to capture the Mekrarian vampire in the East. In addition, what knowledge would be gleaned from the Panopticon before it was destroyed? It was essential the defenses of the Panopticon were reinforced with what remained of his best troops. The citadel in Manhattan would be stripped back to a skeleton staff to support the defense of the Panopticon. The remaining staff would continue its basic function as a command center and draw the approaching Red Empire fist team into a trap with the illusion of a fully functional citadel.