The Crane War

by Graeme Rodaughan

  With his head on a swivel, movement behind his left shoulder caught Jay’s eye. He glanced around to the nemesis tower. At least forty missiles had emerged from the near side of the tower, blue vapors tinging the air around them. Whatever Peter was up to was beyond Jay’s comprehension. He trusted the big guy must have a plan in mind. He glanced at Francis, who nodded, and then dashed down the stairs, weapons drawn. Jay followed on his heels, holding his H&K 416 assault rifle at shoulder level ready to fire. His combat webbing was light on his shoulders. Only two full magazines were left, including the fresh one in his rifle. He had a pair of fragmentation grenades on his webbing and a 40mm HEAP grenade in the launcher beneath his rifle’s barrel, but they would be of limited use in the tight and dangerous confines of the underground hanger. The last thing he needed was to set off a chain reaction of exploding fuel bowsers. Francis’ ammunition was also running low. They couldn’t afford a long fire fight.

  The stairwell was lit with thin strips of flickering light. Their only hope was that at least one nightfalcon was still operational and the hanger doors could be opened to allow it to fly. Anything else would leave them at the mercy of the titanic forces erupting from the bowels of the Earth.

  They hit the lower level, running out of the stairwell into the massive underground hanger. The chamber was easily six hundred yards long by two hundred yards wide. There were four nightfalcons lined up in a square three hundred yards away in the middle of the underground hanger. A dozen gray-clad technicians were swarming over them. Their turbines were idling in a low rumble. They were ready to fly.

  Long rows of crates, spare parts, mobile fuel bowsers and other racks of equipment lay between the helicopters and the two Ramp masters. They ran to the nearest pallet holding a shrink-wrapped turbine and stood up flat against it.

  “‘Ware the choppers,” Francis warned. They’d have to be careful with their shots. The last thing they needed was to destroy the means of their escape.

  Jay glanced around the end of the turbine. A dozen day guards were fanning out from the nearest row of nightfalcons. They spread out in pairs; their smart rifles held high. They raced across the pale concrete floor with more than human speed. “We’ve been made.”

  “It’s a maze fight,” Francis advised. “Draw them into these rows of equipment. Don’t give them time to take a shot. It’s do or die!”

  Jay nodded, keeping his assault rifle ready, his katana jutting over his shoulder.

  Francis whispered, “I’ll take the south side.”

  “I’m north.”

  “Expect no quarter.”

  “I’ll give none.”

  “We’ll meet in the middle at the helicopters.”

  “Got it,” Jay said, blurring away from the turbine. Assault rifle fire cracked through the hanger, rounds sparking off a pallet of locked military boxes behind him. The guards were closing the distance. They were quick to fire, but lacked the deadly Panopticon accuracy they’d demonstrated at the conclave. They had to be dealt with. Capturing at least one nightfalcon helicopter was a must do. The Mirovar force team would end without it and there was no way Jay would let that happen.

  Jay fired a quick three-round burst at the nearest pair of guards, they dived aside, the rounds cracking away into the depths of the hanger. He crouched, darting forward deeper into the stacks of equipment.

  It was game on.

  * * *

  Li stared at Arthur Slayne, who studied her quietly. She looked hard into his eyes and asked firmly, “How long have you known?”

  “Since the design phase of this fortress.”

  “You built it didn’t you?”

  “Pretty much all of it.”

  “Do you realize what the existence of the Panopticon has cost us?”

  Slayne smiled. “Do you realize what it’s about to cost Crane and Armitage?”

  Li paused for a second, suddenly feeling out of her depth. She changed tack. “Your grandson is becoming a killing machine. Is that by your design too?”

  “It’s good he’s on our side then, isn’t it? But no, it wasn’t my intent.” Slayne looked past her to the main server room and the P-Case unit. “Come, walk with me.”

  Li fell in beside him, smiling sardonically. “Is this where you impart some time-honored wisdom to allay my concerns and convert me to a devoted follower?”

  Slayne sighed as he walked. “What have I done to earn such cynicism from someone so young?”

  Li snorted. “For a start, lying about placing shaped charges to fake a rockfall. Blocking off any form of retreat and ensuring that we would go forward with you.”

  Slayne turned, his eyes sparkling. “Well done, I knew you were not a fool, but what principle am I following? As a student of your father you know of what I speak.”

  Li answered without hesitation, “Sun Tzu. He wrote, ‘At the critical moment, the leader of an army acts like one who has climbed up a height and then kicks away the ladder behind him. He carries his men deep into hostile territory before he shows his hand. He burns his boats and breaks his cooking-pots; like a shepherd driving a flock of sheep, he drives his men this way and that, and none knows whither he is going. To muster his host and bring it into danger - this may be termed the business of the general.’ You kicked away the ladder, burned the boats and broke the cooking pots forcing us to this course and none other.”

  “So, you understand why, and yet you harbor resentment.”

  “We’re not sheep to be driven.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time around Francis, he’s a good man, but -”

  “But, what? I happen to think he’s right - you don’t share enough of what you know. You play your cards too close to your chest and you do it all the time.” She wagged her finger at him. “You don’t let anyone in. You don’t trust anyone.”

  “Geez, Li - you’re so insightful.”

  Li tilted her head and frowned. “And then you deride us. Do you have any idea why no one trusts you?”

  Slayne paused for a moment, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “What makes you think I need to be trusted?”

  Li opened her mouth for a second.

  “I don’t care if you trust me or not,” Slayne continued. “I don’t need your trust and I never have. Why on Earth do you value it so much? … Wait, don’t try and answer that question.” Slayne spread his hands, his lips curling into a derisive grin. “It’s because you’re completely fucking naive, which is a dangerous combination when allied with a native genius level intelligence.”

  Li’s eyes flattened and she stated, “If you’re trying to win friends and influence people you’re failing badly.”

  “Li, you’re the daughter of my best friend and in my honest opinion the brightest hope for the future of the Order, but you have so much to learn about how the world really works.”

  “Brightest hope, huh? What about Anton?”

  “I think we both know that Anton could rise to the job, but he’d have to ditch a lot of baggage first.”

  “You’re not backing him?”

  “I know my own grandson.”

  Li’s eyes flashed. “Then share with me. Tell me what I need to know.”

  Slayne looked down the short corridor to the main server room and strode forward. “I could tell you. Simple things like the Mirovar and Blake force teams are ‘deliberately,’ the best the Order of Thoth has to offer. Along with some of the independents you are the foundation of the future of the Order. I’m sure with your newly acquired powers you’re already thinking about it, so you tell me - who are the real talents within the Mirovar team.”

  Newly acquired powers? Just how much does he know? Striding next to Slayne, Li looked up at him. “Peter for strength,” she paused momentarily. “Anton for more than speed. He has a whole new way of ramping.”

  Slayne tilted his head and arched a quizzical eyebrow. “Or a very old way of ramping. One forgotten due to rarity. But there are more talents than Peter and Anton, how ma
ny people do you think could insert a loremaster implant in their arm and integrate with a quantum network less than two days later.”

  She glanced up at him, her eyes widening.

  “Yes, Li. It was a theoretical possibility in the implant design but it took you to prove it a reality. You have a talent for what you’re doing, but,” Slayne’s eyes tightened, a coldness creeping into them, “talent alone will not save you.”

  Li hesitated, then asked, “You know of the Shadow?”

  Slayne nodded. “Our final enemy. The one behind the existence of vampires. He can appear in visions and dreams. Loremasters are particularly vulnerable.” He hesitated for a moment as if distracted and shook his head once. “That feature wasn’t anticipated during development of the implants.”

  Slayne stepped over the threshold into the main server room. Li followed after him. Once she came abreast of him, she asked, “He’s real, isn’t he? Who is he?”

  Slayne’s face froze into a mask of dreadful certainty. “Oh yes, Li. He’s very real. The ancient Egyptians worshiped him as the god Set.” He strode forward and stood beside the P-Case. It was a burnished silvery box the size of a large solid briefcase, sheathed in dark nano-ceramic armor and resting in a solid metal cradle jutting a yard above the floor. An indicator strip on the outer side of the case was nearly filled by a flashing green line. The Panopticon would complete evacuation in a matter of seconds.

  Li’s heart jumped. “A god?”

  “Might as well be a god.”

  Li sighed. She was full of questions. Slayne was telling her the truth. He wasn’t holding back or being evasive. She’d so many more questions to ask. Information gleaned from her integration with the quantum processors told her much but hinted at far more. They had barely scratched the surface of what she wanted to ask. He stood next to the P-Case with his hand on the handle. Ready to pick it up as soon as the download process was complete. It was infuriating, why didn’t he understand the urgency and just tell her what she needed to know? Weren’t they on the same side? Her shoulders slumped and she asked, “How do I resist a god?”

  Slayne looked at her, his face an inscrutable mask for a moment. Then he reached over with his free hand, grasped her shoulder, and smiled warmly. He offered, “There always comes a time in life where you can either give up or step up.” He paused for a brief moment. “Your time is coming soon.” His gaze dropped back to the green strip. It flashed once more and became a solid glowing line. He glanced back at her, and ordered, “Follow me!” he lifted the P-Case from the cradle and blurred away.

  Li looked back at the shining golden light of the hexagon lattice. The quantum processors were doomed. The pressure building beneath the floor would soon destroy the entire facility. At best they had fifteen minutes to make good their escape. At worst, they were already beyond saving themselves. She found it hard to tear herself away from the golden glow illuminating the center of the chamber. It felt like she was leaving a part of herself behind.

  She blinked, whirling away from the gleaming web, striding forward to the vault doors. The light behind her casting a long silhouette of her body across the tiles beneath the flickering strip lighting. Where was Slayne leading the team? Where was he leading her? She had no idea. No quantum processor enhancement could shed light on the deepest secrets buried in Slayne’s mind. She would have to wait for them to be revealed.

  It was time to open some doors. She sent silent commands traversing the core networks. Hundreds of yards away, the underground hanger doors responded, massive localized fuel cells and dedicated engines engaging for effect. Two hundred slats moved, dropping and sliding aside. In less than two minutes the hanger doors would be fully open, allowing the helicopters to launch into the safety of the sky.

  Regretfully, it was time to leave the quantum processors behind. She whispered to herself, “Too many questions and all unanswered.”

  Li stepped over the dismembered corpse of an armored praetorian and exited the guardhouse. The corridor was a slaughter house of dead day guards, overwhelmed by Anton and his grandfather while she dreamed her lucid loremaster dreams. Their names came to her unbidden, information sent along the core networks fed by the quantum processors. They were all young men; men who were heroes in other times and places. Betrayed by lies to a battle they couldn’t win for a cause that wasn’t theirs. Images flooded her of their personal lives. Photos of family members, girlfriends, partners, and soldiers in arms on distant battlefields. One after another image flashed through her mind and left her soul in tatters. She sank to her knees. A pair of tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. One of the men lying dead in this corridor had been holding his newborn daughter only three months earlier.

  I have tarried here too long.

  A dreadful urgency lifted her to her feet. She ran, rapidly picking up speed. She needed to leave this doomed place which was already haunted by ghosts. She blurred, heading for the underground hanger. The slaughter in the corridor was but a foretaste of what may come. One thought pushed the ghosts away, Would Arthur Slayne reach the hanger soon enough to stop Anton?

  For Anton would need to be stopped and his grandfather was the only one who could do it.

  * * *

  Peter pointed the MGL down the stairwell and squeezed the trigger.

  He’d already ramped hard, dropping deep into silence. The propellant ignited, sending the grenade out of the barrel with a drawn out ‘chuff.’

  Peter moved hard right, out of the landing and back into the nemesis tower’s command and control center.

  The grenade snicked against the outer wall of the stairwell, ricocheting deeper into the tower.

  Peter turned one hundred and eighty degrees, leaping upward.

  The grenade passed through the surface of a roiling cloud of blue mist, striking a stair and detonating -

  The cockpit sitting on top of the central cylinder passed beneath Peter’s feet. He sailed above it, pulling himself into a tight defensive ball. In front of him, Chiara was crouched down against the far wall of the dome as far from the entrance of the stairwell as she could get.

  - The fuel cell vapor ignited - explosively. A wave front of flaming gas traveling down to the base of the tower in a fraction of a second. Super-heated gas expanded, seeking every possible path of least resistance, shooting out through the open missile launch cells in massive thirty-yard jets of blue tinged flame.

  Above the detonation point of the grenade, the ignition wave front traveled upward, seeking any point of egress. The top of the stairwell became a funnel, super-heated gas roaring through the doorway into the tower’s command and control center opposite where Chiara hid.

  Peter flew through the air, holding his hands over his eyes, plugging his ears with his thumbs, his little fingers squeezing his nose shut. He held his breath, clenching his jaw as hard as he could, threatening to smash his own teeth with the forces at play.

  A giant fist thundered into his back, accelerating him into the curve of the dome. Heavy bones, toughened far beyond any human norm by ramp epigenetics, shivered and flexed to their maximum extent but didn’t break. Heat washed over him in a wave, igniting spot fires on his clothes, flames haloing his hood.

  Peter slid down the wall in a smoking, smoldering mess, landing next to Chiara. She was huddled in a ball, a low moan of pain escaping her lips.

  The tower rocked, the remaining intact fuel cells detonating in rapid succession. Secondary explosions reverberating throughout the tower. Flashes of blue light cut through the lower edge of the dome like the knives of an angry god. Metal squealed like a tormented demon. The floor canted, Peter and Chiara sliding and rolling across the polished floor to the other side of the dome. The wrecked rail gun phalanx rising up into the air like a bizarrely indignant metal finger.

  The dome was coming apart from the tower supporting it.

  Peter scooped Chiara up, and with her tucked under his left arm he bolted across the slanting floor for the stairwell. The phala
nx continued to rise, accelerating as the dome separated from the rest of the tower.

  He dived, sliding into the stairwell, pushing off the outer wall, rattling and diving down a dozen feet of stairs.

  Metal roared and ripped with an unearthly screech. Bright sunlight spearing through a giant horizontal tear in the base of the dome. The dome split apart, peeling away from the neck of the tower and spinning away to oblivion.

  Peter looked up at bright blue sky, a fresh breeze washing across his face. He batted at a stray tongue of flame licking at the tatters of his clothing.

  Chiara muttered dryly beside him, “We should do this again some time.”

  Thin trails of blood were seeping from her ears and her eyes were horribly bloodshot. He could barely hear her, his tactical earbuds were dead - overwhelmed by the explosions, but they were both still alive. He plucked the ruined earbuds out of his ears and his hearing instantly improved. The low reverberating rumble from the north and south now unremitting in its titanic intensity.

  Peter stood up. A mile to the north and a mile to the south of the tower, dark smoke formed two funnels reaching like cyclopean fingers into the vault of the sky. Of the power stations, there was no sign they’d ever existed. In their place fire raged, lightning sheeting through the hellish conditions beneath the gigantic, towering columns of gray-and-black-shot smoke.

  He looked down, within the remains of the fortress perimeter. The doors to the underground hanger were sliding back, revealing four nightfalcon helicopters.

  Lightning crackled across the blue sky, stretching a bright whip from north to south. Thunder bellowed in its wake, a warning shout to the world.

  Peter lifted his gaze, frozen in sudden awe by the raging firestorms hanging like hell drawn stains against the cobalt sky. He looked back down at the underground hanger and the men scurrying like ants around the helicopters. Their efforts rendered puny and futile by the forces arrayed against them.