Coast on Fire

by Tao Wong

  The Saddledome is huge, a multi-hall complex that hosted the Calgary Stampede and other giant conventions. It’s not a single building, though the largest one has multiple halls that are joined together, allowing access internally. Even so, when we get through the entrance and spend ten minutes jogging, I’m pretty sure it’s never been this big.

  “What the hell? This place wasn’t this big at FanExpo!” Chetan mutters.

  “FanExpo?”

  “Stan Lee signing.”

  “Nerd,” Ali crows before he waves. “It’s a City Center building that’s been modified with a minor pocket dimension.”

  “A pocket dimension?” Daniel squeaks.

  “A minor one. Relax,” Ali says nonchalantly. “Come on, you think my team wouldn’t be able to blast our way through your tiny building by now?”

  Chetan grunts, saving his breath while Jess and Wride wave us onward. Our passage through the empty, gaping hallways is only marked by the appearance of corpses, combat damage, and the occasional unexploded trap.

  Oh yeah, traps. There are a lot of them. Everything from the classic pitfall to chaos mines, walls filled with high-explosives and ball-bearings and automated laser turrets. Most of them are destroyed, but a few have reset by now, which we either avoid or just destroy again. It’s annoying and occasionally painful, but it doesn’t take too long before we catch up with the vanguard.

  The army boys make up the majority of the fighters here, most of them split up into groups of four and hanging together in a squad of two teams. Or in some cases, what’s left of two teams. The non-military personnel are more loosely organized, but even then, they mostly hang out in their parties.

  “Miss me?” I say, sliding into the space next to a familiar redhead resting against a wall around the corner from the fight.

  She cracks open an eye then grins weakly. Next to her, Anna lies, fur singed and missing two legs. I frown, eyeing the fox with mild concern. Anna was pretty old when she was first picked up by Lana, and the last year has added streaks of white to her light red fur.

  “John.” Lana’s voice is filled with relief and exhaustion at the same time. She hands me a thermos filled with coffee, which I swig quickly after dropping my helmet, the Skill-produced nectar of the gods automatically adding a small Stamina and Mana buff.

  “Thanks.”

  “About time,” Sam grumbles from his spot a short distance away. He’s leaning up against the wall, fiddling with a drone in his hands as he attempts to fix it. He seems completely oblivious to the fact that they’ve been stuck in the same spot for the last twenty minutes.

  “Mikito?” I say as I search for the diminutive Japanese woman. On the other hand, I do spot Laila with her afro and her team.

  “Down the other hallway with Carlos,” Lana says. “They’ve got this menagerie there which has a never-ending supply of monsters, it seems. They’re desperate for healers.”

  “Oh, I don’t get an inquiry?” Ingrid says.

  I jump slightly, adrenaline from hours of fighting leaving my nerves slightly overstrung. It’s only a small portion of my lizard brain that remembers she’s a friend, allowing me not to put my fist through her smirking face.

  “Gotcha,” Ingrid adds.

  “Funny. And that’s why I didn’t ask,” I say. “So I hear you need me?”

  “I do. If you’re done with catching up with your friends,” Captain Angus Tyrell says sarcastically from a few feet down, hunched over clear air with his aides. Of course, I know they’re actually staring at a shared display, one I’m not privy to.

  I flash the captain a smile as I walk over, eyeing soldier-boy and noting the damage on his suit. Good, not someone who leads from the back. “What can I do for you?”

  “There’s a chasm in the other room. There used to be a bridge, but they destroyed it when we arrived. Attempts at fording the bridge have met stiff resistance. We need you to cause a disruption while opening a Portal for our men,” Captain Tyrell says while indicating exactly where he’d like that Portal on the 3D map he’s shared with me. “We’ll be supporting you the best we can, but you’ll need to handle most of the fighting yourself to begin with.”

  I grimace, eyeing the thirty or so dots. A quick thought and Ali highlights the Advanced Class fighters in the group, flashing me their details. I’m a bit grateful he’s removed their names for now, those details not something I require.

  Gale Mage (Level 17)

  HP: 303/320

  MP: 2103/2480

  Conditions: Shield of Air, Wind Blades, Mana Drip

  Medjay Warrior (Level 29)

  HP: 2868/3110

  MP: 983/1080

  Conditions: Body of Stone, Millicent’s Ever Healing Remedy, Sense of Shifting Sands

  Tagma Rider (Level 7)

  HP: 1455/1480

  MP: 988/1070

  Conditions: Linked Mount, Health of the Many

  3rd Bone Ranger (Level 6)

  HP: 1577/1680

  MP: 781/990

  Conditions: Dimensional Sight, Air Sense, Mana Drip, Wqq’s Blessing

  Four Advanced Fighters. None of their Conditions are particularly surprising, mostly buffs for their abilities, regeneration or defensive spells or Skills. Nothing extraordinary, but there are four of them. Three of which are melee fighters. I exhale then blink as first green, then purple light washes over me, my own conditions updating as the nearby spellcasters throw buffs on me too.

  Haste

  Mana Drip

  Yeller’s Patented Kinetic to Blood Regeneration

  Plot Armor

  …

  The buffs keep coming, but after a while, I stop looking at them and focus on the way the changes make me feel while keeping an eye on my Mana. I’m nearly topped up and my health has never been better. Other than a quick swap of armor, I’m about as ready as I can be. I could spend the time assessing if the spellcasters are coordinating properly or just trust that they aren’t clashing their buffs, canceling each other out. After all, certain types of Skills and spells actually clash in their properties and it isn’t always the “better” Skill that stays in effect.

  As I exhale and pop my head around the corner again, the conversation with Ali pops back into mind.

  “No such thing as infinite buffs, boy-o. On average, you can get about three buffs for each of your secondary attributes, like Mana or Health. The first ups the related attribute, the second the regeneration, and the last the actual value. Spells or castable Skills that try to affect the same thing will often conflict unless the spellcaster is good. Or the Skill’s particularly unique.

  “That doesn’t include passives of course. So your skill Body’s Resolve won’t clash with another regeneration spell, but a second spell of the same kind could if it was an active type. Of course, if you tried to get a second passive Skill, chances are you’d definitely clash. If you want, there’s a bunch of research on it, including the specific combinable Spells and Skills. But you ain’t a real spellcaster and…”

  A hand slips into mine, pulling me back from my memories. I turn to see Lana holding it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Worried?” she asks.

  “Nope.” A single raised eyebrow and I chuckle softly. “Fine. Just a bit. It’s been a while since…”

  “Yeah.” Lana nods. She understands. It’s been a while since I did something this stupid. But there’s no one else, is there? And so, what is is. She kisses my helmet on the side before she drops down again. “You’re wasting your buffs. Boy-o.”

  I chuckle softly and take the gentle ribbing as the encouragement it is before nodding to the captain to indicate I’m ready. A second later, my backup opens up. Sam’s drones sweep out first, laying down smoke and beam weapon fire. A few seconds later, the rifle squads who have been hunkering down and trading potshots open up, tearing into their opponents, soon joined by the spellcasters who have been conserving Mana. We stream into the cavern, taking cover under the portable shields and mobile armor that litte
r our side of the chasm. For a moment, I take it all in, the metallic floor and walls, the cavernous drop-off with its ill-lit bottom, and the defenders on the opposite side, a bare two hundred meters away. Then I act.

  Blink Step. Maximum range, five hundred meters. An easy flicker, especially as Ali has swung high to give me an even better vantage point, one not obscured by the growing wall of smoke. My first target would be the Mage, but an anti-teleport formation that Ali spots makes that impossible. So I pop into being right behind the Bone Ranger crouched over a metallic wall and firing his repeating beam rifle. It’s a simple thing to extend a foot into his bottom and let physics take over. The Ranger’s yelp of surprise makes me grin even as he flails and falls into the cavern. I doubt he’ll die, but out of the fight is just as good a result for now.

  A polearm flashes, a blade cleaving through my Soul Shield to be stopped an inch into my shoulder. My eyes wide, I jerk aside even as my attacker rips the weapon away, his hands burning from a damage reflection buff. I keep dodging, my Soul Shield forming around the torn hole even as the pair of Advanced Fighters close in on me. The Medjay is tall, nearly our size, with a pair of javelins in hand and long, sweeping hair. The Tagma is a stocky halfling female wielding a beam-pistol-and-sabre combo.

  A hand twists as my eyes lock on the empty point of space the captain requested. A moment later, a tear in space appears, a black hole that offers nothing. Before I can rejoice, I’m grabbed by invisible hands and thrown into the sky. A moment later, a javelin is thrown at me, smashing into my Soul Shield, then it defies common sense as it hangs suspended in air, spinning and drilling into my Soul Shield.

  “Lightning Strike, boy-o!” Ali cries as he swoops forward in front of my hands.

  Hands slammed together, I call forth my spell, electricity playing along the crowd, attacking the Kingdom’s men even as Ali channels his own Affinity through it, upgrading the damage. We sweep the attack across the ground before finding our angle of attack changing abruptly. A moment later, vertigo.

  “What the…?” I snarl then realize that the air grip has thrown me over the chasm before releasing me. Before I lose sight of the Portal, I trigger Blink Step to pop back into the air and get ready to re-engage.

  Left alone by himself, Ali floats, exposed. Already, spells arc toward the Spirit, who is dodging into the chasm while attempting to fade out of existence.

  As gravity takes me back down, I land in a crouch, feet flexing as I soak up my initial momentum, knees aching from the impact. The Soul Shield lasts for a fraction of a second longer before another beam rips into it. A javelin pierces my chest a moment later. I fall backward even as the javelin tears through my body and exits, flying back into the Medjay Warrior’s hand. Before he can attack me again, a pair of halflings dogpile my crouching form, blocking his attack.

  Since I lost sight of my Portal, it snaps closed to the accompaniment of a loud scream. Even as I roll and buck off my little assailants as they stab me with poison- and frost-coated weapons, I’m calling forth the Mana needed to open a second Portal. A twist and flip gets me to my feet, one of the halflings behind my back.

  A bone-shuddering thud from behind is accompanied by a flash of orange and black. Roland at least made it through, and the halfling’s body crunches under his massive teeth. A second later, the second Portal snaps open, just to the side of where a Marine crouches, firing his repeating beam rifle as he bleeds from the stumps of his feet.

  “Chain Fireball!”

  The screamed warning has me throwing myself forward, ending up behind the Portal as the flaming sphere traverses the chasm. Insane or not, more of our people throw themselves through the Portal into the middle of the exploding flames. Entire rifle teams exit and take station, the few healers—or designated healers—doing their best to buff the front-line fighters. Ingrid appears from the shadows, wreathed in fire, to tackle the Medjay Warrior while Jess and Miners bully the Tagma Rider. I take a moment to recover from getting cooked. Again.

  “Keep the Portal up. We’re nearly done,” the captain’s voice cackles over the communicator.

  I grit my teeth and nod, layering a newly generated Soul Shield over my form while taking potshots with my beam rifle. I can’t afford to take my eyes off the Portal again, so I keep my help to the minimum. But the team doesn’t need it. Lana and puppies charge out of the Portal to smash apart the last resistance at the hallway exit. With our people inside their lines, the tide of battle turns. More and more of our men stream in, the Kingdom personnel unable to slow us down. And just like that, the fight is pretty much over, support personnel streaming in seconds later through the Portal.

  “So, magic school bus, how you doing?” Ali says over our mental connection.

  “Magic school bus?”

  “What? You’re yellow and transport children around.”

  I pause, considering if I should be insulted or proud to be compared to a classic children’s book. Wait. No. Insulted. Very much so. “Go roll in some Goblin shit.”

  “That’s my boy-o.” Ali chuckles, floating up from the chasm. He’s literally smoking, damage from spells having pulled his Mana-imbued form apart.

  “Why all the racist shit lately?” I say, stretching.

  “No reason.” Ali flashes me a smile. There’s something in it that I don’t understand but nags at my intuition. For all that he’s an annoyance, his sense of humor tends toward the bizarre and perverted, not racist and hurtful. Which makes his recent actions weird.

  “Mr. Lee,” Angus speaks a moment later, making me look up. “Colonel Wier says you may continue to work with us or proceed with the additional deployment of our troops.”

  “He’s giving me a choice?” I say.

  Lana snorts, walking over to me as she stares at the hole in my chest armor, the skin beneath already patched up. “The colonel knows you need to Level too.”

  “Ah.” I consider the offer. “I’ll stay with you guys. If there’s nothing else, I’ll join the vanguard.”

  “That—” Angus shuts up, deciding not to protest further.

  Dangerous or not, the vanguard is where the experience is. Flashing him a grin, I trot forward, Lana following me, flanked by the puppies.

  Time to finish this then.

  Chapter 9

  “Where to next?” Lana asks a day later.

  We’re curled up on a couch in a newly purchased building in Calgary, one that we picked up from our earnings in the fight. Down the hallway, Ingrid and Mikito each have their own apartments while Sam’s taken over the caretaker’s place and the parking lot beneath for his drones. Last I saw, the older man was muttering something about upgrading Mikito’s PAV further.

  “Mmmm… I’m not sure,” I say softly. “Things have cooled down for the Americans in Washington. Or heated up. There’s a new entrant and it’s messing up everyone. So Wier’s been ordered to take things a bit slower.” I let that topic die before I continue. “How’re our settlements?”

  “Your settlements,” Lana says, prodding me in the short ribs.

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ve got a rough outline for a government. I’ll get Ali to send it to you. Basically, a constitutional monarchy, with a steward, captain of guard, generals, and the rest. The administration of cities will be left to the self-elected city councils, with those under me as a check against them. There’ll be a series of individuals, roaming judges if you will, who can override decisions and mete justice out too. But we’ll mostly let the cities do their thing. And once all this is done…”

  “You’ll give it up?”

  “Yup.” My lips twist in a half-smile. “Any other form is much harder to dissolve.”

  “You’re asking people to trust you to give it back,” Lana says softly, eyes fixed on me.

  “And you know what they say about power…” Ali cackles from his corner where he’s watching his latest binge TV show. As far as I know, he’s currently on a Dr. Who binge—including the lost seasons. I’m a bit confused about what those are, b
ut really, that confusion is the least of my problems.

  “I know,” I say. “We’re working on options to give you people a way around this. But I don’t think it’ll matter in time.”

  “Oh…?” Lana arches an eyebrow.

  I kiss her, just because she looks so damn good that way.

  When I pull away, she murmurs, “Stop changing the subject.”

  “Just a premonition about the future.”

  When I refuse to elaborate, Lana drops the topic and answers my original question. “Vancouver’s doing well. We’re well on the way to meeting the Large Town requirements. The land purchase requirement is the problem. We’re trying to balance it with development in Burnaby to get it up to a Town level, but it’s still only at eighty-three percent right now. The parks are a tough nut to crack, but we’re getting there. New West, Richmond, and Surrey are next up, though Surrey seems like they’re going to get there by themselves.

  “As for Kamloops and Kelowna, they’re both Towns, as you know. No real chance of them becoming Large Towns, not without a larger population…” Lana sighs and I nod. That isn’t possible until we can direct more people to them. With a minimum of twenty thousand population and a ninety-eight percent land purchase requirement, the Large Town status isn’t even worth considering.

  “Sounds like things are in hand,” I say softly. “And the scattered other settlements?”

  “We’ve pulled everyone who is willing to come out. There are still holdouts but…” Lana shrugs, and I have to agree with her. There’s not much we can do about those.

  “What are we doing with the production spot for Vancouver?”

  “Who knows? The damn Artisans keep arguing among themselves, so nothing’s happening. If I hear how ‘innovation is the only way forward’ one more time,” Lana growls softly. “Why do you think I made my way out here?”

  I chuckle, giving the woman a squeeze. “Thank you.”