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Demonhome Page 9

by Michael G. Manning


  She hadn’t understood his words, but clearly the dragon had, He can understand you? Is he trained?

  The young man laughed, No, he isn’t trained. He’s intelligent, as smart as you or me. He can talk too, but you don’t understand our language, so there’s not much point.

  “I was only trying to be friendly,” rumbled the dragon.

  “You were trying to scare her,” corrected Matthew.

  “Not my fault if she misunderstood,” said Desacus.

  You really are talking to it, thought Karen with some amazement.

  “He’s just like a human,” said Matthew before realizing he should switch his mode of communication. Think of him as a person, just like you or me, but with a different body—and a really weird sense of humor.

  The dragon coughed indignantly, “I take exception to that. I am nothing like your inferior breed of soft-skinned monkeys.”

  What did he say? asked Karen.

  Matthew glanced back at her, He was apologizing for frightening you. Then his eyes took in her bare chest. He had already been aware of her nudity, of course, and he had been trying to avoid embarrassing her by staring, but under the light of his spell he saw her breasts properly with his eyes for the first time.

  Her breasts were blue.

  For that matter, so were her stomach, shoulders, upper arms—she was blue everywhere except her face, neck, and hands.

  Karen saw his expression change, and she shrank away from him, her arms covering her chest. A mixture of emotions ran through her, and she wasn’t sure whether she was more embarrassed about her lack of a shirt, or whether she was more chagrined by his discovery of her freakish secret.

  Matthew looked away and raised his hand. The blanket she had so recently escaped from floated up and crossed the room to enfold her. Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, he told her mentally.

  Karen’s eyes widened in surprise, You can communicate telepathically even when we aren’t touching?

  It costs me more effort, he replied. In my own world, that isn’t usually a problem, but here I have been conserving my strength.

  As the thoughts sank in, she focused on one portion of what he had said, You’re from another world. You’re a demon. She should have realized sooner, but he had seemed so normal, if one discounted his strange attire. The dragon would have probably tipped her off, but she was still in shock from meeting it.

  The word she had used, ‘demon’ had been new to him, but Matthew had felt the meaning of it in her mind. It referred to the fact that he had come from another dimension, which meant she was familiar with the concept of interdimensional travel. Of course, her blue skin and pointed ears made it plain that she was no ordinary human. She was She’Har, more specifically, she was a child of the Mordan Grove.

  It all made sense now. In this world, the She’Har were fighting for control, and the strange metal monsters he had fought were their enemies, probably defenders of the native population.

  So are you, he responded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  ***

  “How did the target escape?” asked SDC Aiseman.

  “Uncertain, Director,” reported Commander Leighton. “There was a second person with her.”

  “Show me the video,” ordered the SDC.

  Twin video feeds were presented in the air in front of them, one showing the scene in infrared and the other using low-light sensors. As the scene played out numbers beneath them gave an accounting of the exact time.

  “Freeze,” ordered Tanya Miller. “This matches the time of the latest event we measured with the ANSIS network.”

  Commander Leighton frowned, “For something that would produce ripples, it seems very subtle.”

  “Do you think this may indicate that your daughter is perhaps just a bystander caught up in this?” asked Director Aiseman.

  Tanya scowled at him, irritated that he had revealed her relationship with the target in front of Commander Leighton. “There is zero chance of that, Director, and now that your men have failed to eliminate them, the threat level has risen significantly, as shown by their near miraculous escape.”

  Leighton ground his teeth, “We lost forty-three men in that skirmish, Dr. Miller. I would appreciate it if you showed a little more resp…”

  “Next time you will use appropriate measures, Commander. It was your own timidity that cost those men their lives,” said Tanya, cutting him off. “You should have carpet bombed the area once you had her location.”

  “Let’s not get into a pissing match,” ordered Director Aiseman. “We have their current location, and it doesn’t appear they will be going anywhere. They’ve blockaded themselves into a cave with some sort of powerful energy screen.”

  “Which means absolutely nothing,” countered Dr. Miller. “They can leave at any time, in just the same fashion that they escaped your first confrontation.”

  “Sensors indicate they are still within the cave, though the readings are odd. We show three bodies inside, one of them very large,” observed Commander Leighton.

  Dr. Miller spoke dispassionately, “The entire area must be sterilized.”

  Aiseman was surprised, “What?”

  “You heard me. If an infection is already underway we need to make certain it is cut out immediately. I want everything within a two-mile radius sprayed, with defoliant and nerve toxins. Use a tactical nuke on the cave,” she added.

  Leighton spoke up, “A tac-nuke isn’t the best option. The geological surveys indicate the cave may be exceptionally stable. We have conventional weapons that are better designed for penetrating hard targets.”

  Director Aiseman watched their exchange quietly, How can she coldly order the execution of her only child? He knew almost nothing about the details of Project Blue-star, but Tanya Miller’s hard demeanor spoke volumes.

  “I’ll start withdrawing our assets from the area,” continued the Commander.

  Tanya held up her hand, “No. The chemical agents won’t affect them. I want sensors to remain in place. We need to know for certain if their biosignatures are still present when the final strike hits, otherwise we won’t know if it has been successful.”

  “A high yield explosion could be dangerous for the men,” argued Aiseman, “even if it’s non-nuclear.”

  Dr. Miller shook her head, “Keep them in place, a conventional weapon won’t kill your men. If the demons try to emerge before the final strike, have your men use artillery. We need to make sure they don’t get out using more mundane methods.”

  Commander Leighton protested, “You mean it probably won’t kill them. I cannot approve of this, Dr. Miller. Your plan will damage or destroy UN assets and equipment while simultaneously endangering the lives of hundreds of military personnel.”

  Tanya glanced at SDC Aiseman and raised one brow.

  With a sigh, Donald bowed to the inevitable, “Your objections are noted Commander Leighton. Do as Dr. Miller suggests.”

  Leighton was furious, “Exactly why do we have a civilian involved in this matter, Director? As far as I am aware she isn’t in the chain of command.”

  Aiseman, started to reply, but Dr. Miller held up her hand to forestall him. The look she gave Commander Leighton was one of undisguised malice, “If you don’t like your orders Commander, feel free to take your concerns to President Kruger. If that doesn’t satisfy you, I will be happy to have you removed, and we will install someone who will carry out this mission.”

  The Cybernetic Division Commander blinked and then vanished.

  Donald let out a deep breath, “You didn’t need to be quite so brutal, Doctor.”

  Tanya Miller sneered back, “I had my fill of dealing with fools in the first Demon war, Director. If they had listened to me then, Australia wouldn’t be a radioactive wasteland. I will brook no delays this time.” She disappeared then, leaving the Senior Defense Director alone in the Command Center.

  Donald Aiseman lowered his head to cradle it in his hands. This was going to be a long week, and
he didn’t see any way that he would be getting out of it without losing a significant amount of skin, assuming he was able to keep his job at all.

  Chapter 11

  Matthew could see the denial in her face.

  Karen lifted her chin, refusing to let shame hold her back. The truth was out already. She put her hand on her companion’s face, to make certain he would hear her thoughts, You are mistaken. I was born here. Both of my parents were born here. I have a condition known as methemoglobinemia. My blood doesn’t handle oxygen properly. That’s why my skin is blue.

  More came across in the link than just her words. He also felt her shame. She seemed to think she had some sort of disease, or perhaps there was a social stigma associated with her condition. He also knew it was a lie. He had never seen one of the Mordan She’Har with his own eyes, but he had lots of memories of them. Her skin, ears, even her curly black hair were all indicative of that heritage. Not to mention the fact that he had just felt her project her own thoughts without his assistance.

  She was already beginning to use aythar without even realizing it.

  He brushed away her hand, then tested out a phrase in her language that he thought was correct, “Close your eyes.”

  Karen glared at him but eventually decided to trust him and did as he asked.

  Matthew channeled his power along his right arm, making sure it was brilliant with aythar, but not allowing it to glow visibly. With a word he canceled the spell sustaining his light sphere above them, plunging the cavern into darkness.

  Then he drew back his arm and swung at her head, as if he were about to deliver a stinging slap.

  Karen reacted instinctively. Turning, she deflected his arm and then caught it.

  Matthew had intended to stop his swing before reaching her cheek, but he found himself flying through the air instead. The air burst from his lungs as he landed on his back; and pain exploded through his body, blotting out everything else as his back arched. The bruises on his back were screaming at him as he twisted into a knot on the floor.

  She knelt over him, “Oh god! I’m sorry. What were you thinking?”

  He got the gist of her words, but he the agony in his back was too much for him to reply. He waited for the pain to pass, and after a few minutes it faded slightly. Restoring the light sphere, he frowned up at her before trying to sit up again. His back had other ideas, however.

  “You’re hurt,” she exclaimed.

  No shit, thought Matthew.

  She began trying to remove his armor unsuccessfully. He struggled with her briefly, but it hurt too much to maintain his resistance. Surrendering, he showed her where the buckles were, so she could remove his coif and detach the hauberk from his mail leggings. Several painful minutes filled with swearing went by before she finally had the chain shirt and his padded gambeson off.

  Desacus had been watching the entire time, but now he broke his silence, “If she kills you can I eat her?”

  Matthew sent a silent response, We already talked about this, no. Secretly though, he thought it might be a good idea. Besides, wouldn’t you prefer to eat the one already dead.

  “She looks tender,” replied the dragon before adding, “smells better too.”

  Karen ignored their conversation as she helped him to roll onto his side. A whistle escaped her lips as she saw the state of his back. Black and purple splotches covered his skin. In places, there were dark spots that indicated blood had pooled just under the surface, hematomas. She had felt bad about throwing him before, but now she wondered how he had even managed to stay on his feet. He had to have been in a lot of pain.

  “You need a hospital,” she said at last. “There could be a lot more damage than we can see.”

  He only understood part of what she said, but he replied anyway, again using her language, “I’m fine.”

  She sat back, “You’re learning English very quickly.”

  That line went over his head so she put her hand on his forehead and repeated the phrase mentally. Once he understood he replied, pointing at himself, “Good memory.”

  “Something is coming,” Desacus notified them, lifting his head and turning it slowly.

  “I don’t hear anything,” said Matthew.

  The dragon snorted, “I have better hearing.”

  With Karen’s help he got back to his feet and made his way to the entrance. Outside he could see more flying machines hovering, and he thought there might be soldiers on the mountainside, but he couldn’t be certain using only his eyes. Again, he was frustrated by how limited the range of his magesight was in this strange world.

  Karen stood next to him, squinting against the morning sunlight. “Jets.”

  “What’s that?” asked Matthew.

  She put her hand on his shoulder, Military aircraft, they have missiles that can destroy all sorts of things, and they can fire from miles away.

  The concepts were strange to him, but the meanings carried through. How soon will they fire?

  They could have fired before ever getting this close, she replied. They’re doing something else, though that doesn’t mean they won’t.

  He was still coming to grips with the amazing things these people seemed able to do with dead metal and absolutely no aythar, but he got the feeling they had little time. They needed to leave. But then, he was standing next to a Mordan She’Har.

  Karen, you have to understand something. You aren’t from this world. You are She’Har. Your blue skin is a feature of theirs, well one of them anyway. The same goes for your ears.

  For some reason, she wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t let go of her past for a wild fantasy. She had had parents, a childhood. She knew better.

  When it was dark back there, you saw my hand coming. Only a mage could do that, he added, refusing to relent. You are a Mordan. You’ve just never been exposed to magic before.

  And what does that mean? she asked. Why is it so important to you?

  The Mordan can teleport. It’s a special ability that only they possess. You can get us out of here.

  She had definitely experienced some odd sensations over the past few days, but at the moment the world seemed entirely normal, if one discounted the fact that she was standing in a cave with a dragon and a self-avowed wizard. She couldn’t help but laugh, So I’m a wizard and my special spell is teleport? There’s no way I’m high enough level to cast that.

  The words were accompanied by some strange mental images, and he got the feeling she was referring to a game of some sort. She wasn’t taking him seriously, and if what she had told him was true, they might not have much time.

  He walked back to the interior chamber and weighed their options. He could try to construct a better defense. With Desacus he had access to enough aythar to create something truly spectacular, but he didn’t think that would be the best option. He couldn’t be certain how powerful the weapons of this world might be, and if they dug in they were bound to eventually be overwhelmed.

  Escaping on dragonback was a slightly more attractive option, but he had seen the night before how effective the flying machines were. He doubted they could escape pursuit, and once in the open they would be much more vulnerable.

  He tried to bend down and retrieve his armor, but his back made that nearly impossible. Putting it on would be even worse. Matthew sighed. Using his aythar he gathered it, along with all his other gear, into a small pile. He left out the iron pot. It was too bulky and since Karen was using the blanket he had nothing large enough to wrap everything up with. He used his armor instead, piling the other items on it and wrapping it around them before tying it together with the rope.

  Karen had been observing quietly, “What are you going to do?”

  It took him a few seconds, but he was able to slowly parse the meaning of her words. Then he replied, “I’m leaving.”

  “You can teleport?” she asked.

  The answer was too much for his limited language skills, so he put his hand on her shoulder, No. I don’t hav
e that gift, but I can move between worlds. I’ll return to my own world for a while.

  What about me?

  You’re welcome to come. I wouldn’t recommend staying here.

  The thought of traveling to another world both frightened and intrigued her. She didn’t have much to keep her anyway, other than her parents, and her current situation didn’t offer any good alternatives. Karen nodded, “I’ll come.”

  Matthew pointed to Desacus, “Climb up there.” He didn’t have the vocabulary to be more descriptive, but he thought the idea should be fairly clear.

  The thought of climbing up on the massive beast was a fairly daunting one, but the dragon crouched low and extended one forelimb, obviously offering her an easy route up to his back.

  It turned out to be more difficult than she had expected, mainly because she was limited to using one hand. The other had to keep a good grip on her blanket or it would slip off. It’s a little late to be worrying about your modesty now, Karen, she thought. You’ve already given them quite a show.

  Don’t worry. I’m only interested in your body as a gustatory experiment.

  The voice in her head wasn’t Matthew’s and she knew instantly it came from the dragon. It startled her so badly she almost slipped and fell.

  Matthew watched from below with some concern, ready to catch her if she lost her grip entirely.

  “I didn’t realize he could talk the same way you do,” she announced.

  Imagine my shock, said the dragon. How would you feel if you suddenly discovered your food could talk?

  “That’s enough, Desacus,” cautioned Matthew. “This is unsettling enough for her without your bad jokes.”

  Karen kept her attention on what she was doing until she had firmly seated herself. Matthew clambered up next to her and sat in front of her, just behind the dragon’s neck.

  “He doesn’t really eat people, does he?” she asked, hoping the dragon wouldn’t be able to understand her language.

  Matthew laughed, “No.”

  Not yet, added Desacus, guessing at their conversation.

  Matthew laughed, and Karen forced herself to relax. The creature was obviously trying to be funny—she hoped.

 

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