One of them was older, lined with authority and experience.
“Dick?” the man said. “What the bloody hell are you doing here, and what have you done to my ship?”
“Technically, it was him,” Richard replied, pointing at Christopher. “If you’re going to shoot anybody, start with him.”
Christopher didn’t get a chance to speak.
“We thought you were dead. Why the bloody hell aren’t you dead?” the captain demanded, his outrage now personal.
“Not for lack of trying,” Richard quipped. “It’s a long story, and it’s hard to tell over the sound of gunfire.”
The gun barrels lowered. The captain staggered out onto the tilted deck and gaped in awe at the countryside. “I thought our instruments had gone screwy. But they’re right. Where in the bloody hell are we?”
“Not Hel, actually, for which you should be grateful. I’ve been there, and I have to say it was not at all pleasant.” Richard grinned and carefully worked his way forward. “It’s good to see you, Robert. It’s damn good.” He held out his hand.
Captain Robert looked at the extended palm in wonder. “You look bloody good for a dead man.” He clasped hands and shook, and then he pulled Richard into an embrace that threatened to dislodge them both. “Bloody good.”
“Hi,” Christopher waved to the other faces. One of them was the woman with the submachine gun. “It’s not your fault you missed,” he explained to her. “Magic.”
He realized it was the wrong thing to say when she raised her gun and carefully squeezed off a shot at him.
“Belay that,” the captain ordered.
“He’s right, sir,” she replied. “Our weapons don’t work on him.”
“Oh, they work,” Richard said. “They work just fine. That’s why you’re here, in fact. An enemy of the Crown is in need of killing. I have MI6 clearance at the highest levels, Captain, and I’m invoking that authority to commandeer your ship for the good of the Commonwealth.”
“Still talking rubbish, I see,” Captain Robert said. “But come on in and explain. Lieutenant, put on some coffee. I imagine this explanation is going to take a while.”
The crew were trained professionals. They continued to operate through the shock. Their captain asserted that everything was in hand, and they chose to believe him through force of habit. The captain was just as disoriented, but he knew he had to put on a strong face for his crew. Therefore, through sheer willpower, he walked without flinching under the alien sky and issued commands as if nothing had changed. Both layers, commander and commanded, pretended the situation was comprehensible and manageable, and because they did so, it was. The ballet impressed Christopher. His men had relied on him for courage in the face of monsters, but they had grown up with monsters. All they feared was death. These people were terrified for their sanity.
After several hours, they had gotten most of the crew out of the ship, about a hundred men and half a dozen women. An unknown number remained on board, guarding engineering and the arsenal. The rest were engaged in the problem of bringing their ship onto an even keel. Christopher watched Krellyan greeting the captain and trying to put him at ease while Richard squired his lady friend to his brother’s disapproving glare. The disapproval seemed pro forma; the man could not help but appreciate the woman’s beauty or her obvious affection for Richard. Christopher could see all of this reflected in their auras, in case it wasn’t obvious enough on their faces.
He could also see that absent Richard’s personal connection, Lalania’s charm, and Krellyan’s gentle authority, the entire affair would have ended as it begun: in gunfire, eventually deadly. The ship looked like a great beached whale, its conning tower the only thing breaking the illusion above the fins, and he could not see any obvious weapons or deck guns, but he knew the ship must carry awe-inspiring firepower. Richard wouldn’t have asked for it otherwise.
Karl was another point of contact. He snapped a salute at the captain, who instantly recognized a kindred soul. The captain spoke to the young man with wary trust, knowing that he represented both honor and the focal point of any military threat. The captain apparently had decided to ignore the existence of the flying bullet-proof caped crusader. Christopher was happy to be out of the spotlight for once.
There was only one hiccup, when the Saint had to cast the translation spell on Karl so he could speak directly to the captain. Christopher could see the suspicion in the captain’s bearing. He understood; it felt like being tricked, that a man could suddenly speak fluent English when a moment ago he pretended to be dumb as a post. The captain did not let his concern rise to his face, which again impressed Christopher. Marcius should have got himself a Royal Navy officer in the first place, and everything would have gone much more smoothly.
Karl summoned an army of draft horses from the city. The submarine crew noticeably relaxed at the sight. Horses they understood. Horses were the same in every world. Again Christopher could relate. He went to take his own out for some exercise. The beast needed it and so did his young body.
He rode alone. No one thought he needed an escort anymore.
By the time he returned, night was falling. The engineering operation had been put off until daylight. Christopher saw army tents in the field next to the river, set up for their guests to use. It was a clever compromise; it kept the navy men off the ship, allowing them to acclimatize to the new world, while not dragging them into the unfamiliarity of a foreign city. It also meant the entire crew would get to see the starry sky for themselves, silencing any doubters.
The captain agreed to come up to the castle for dinner. His crew lined up and saluted as he climbed into a carriage. They set their own guard on their camp, armed with submachine guns. Christopher rode over on his lathered, happy warhorse to where Karl was mounting up.
“You want to know why I didn’t make any of those submachine guns for you, I suppose,” he said.
“I assumed it was because you were cheap,” Karl answered. “They consume ammunition like a soldier drinks beer.”
It took him a minute to realize Karl was telling a joke. It took him longer to work out why.
“You like these guys?” he finally asked.
Karl nodded. “They are as mortal as I. And yet Master Richard, the most puissant mage this realm has ever known, looks at their vessel as if it could destroy the world. He speaks to his brother with sibling familiarity, but he addresses the ship’s captain with respect.”
Christopher looked over his shoulder and finally drew the conclusion he should have drawn hours ago.
The damn thing was nuclear.
29
SCANDALOUS
This world had a litany of evils that defied description. It had imported monsters from other planets to round out the list. Even so, Christopher was chagrined to have added nuclear warfare to the rolls.
He sat quietly at dinner while Richard and Lalania charmed Captain Robert. It was strange watching them work as a pair. It was stranger watching them employ Karl and Krellyan in their performance.
“But why steal my ship?” Robert asked. He had heard the tale of the trip to Hel and had suggested that a fleet of tanks would be more useful for a planetary invasion. Christopher agreed with that assessment, so he leaned in to hear Richard’s answer.
“First and foremost, I need a nuclear reactor. And you have one of the very few portable ones in the world.” Richard waved his hands in excitement. “There are certain experiments I am desperate to perform.”
“You can’t just crack open our reactor and mess around,” Robert said. “It’s not like dad’s car. You won’t be able to put it back together afterward.”
“Restoring machinery is the least of my problems now. I have a spell that temporarily reverses causality—”
Lalania elbowed the wizard.
“The technical details are unimportant,” he continued without missing a beat. “I can put stuff back together. What I could not do was refine an irradiation source, at least in
any reasonable time frame.”
“Richard,” the captain said, trying to interject reason into the conversation, “they’ll know. They’ll see the core has been tampered with.”
“Oh,” Richard said. “The sub’s never going back. At least, not in one piece.”
The captain put down his fork and knife. His face went hard. So did his aura, its blue deepening.
Richard continued on, oblivious. “I have a list of extensive modifications I need to make. I don’t think the Royal Navy will want it back afterward. Or will be able to afford it, for that matter. But first I have to do those experiments.”
“You’re talking piracy.” Robert was not amused.
“I’m sorry, brother. But the fate of the world quite literally hangs in the balance. There are creatures here that would consume Earth, if they could find someone foolish or wicked enough to open the door. They now have over a hundred candidates. Even if we killed every man and woman in your crew and burned their bodies, those creatures could still make use of them.”
The captain’s mood was not softened by such talk. “Then send us back.”
“It’s too late.” Richard seemed genuinely grieved. “They know. They’re watching. Sooner or later someone else from Earth will cross over, and they’ll pounce. Sooner or later they’ll find a path. And then Earth will be doomed. All the guns in the world cannot withstand magic.” The wizard turned to Christopher. “Show him.”
The captain stared at Christopher, suspicious and skeptical.
“Bark,” Christopher commanded, in Celestial.
The captain yipped like a dog. Then threw his hand over his mouth in astonishment.
“You see?” Richard said. “We have the advantage in the first encounter because they do not understand technology. But once they reach around it to the man behind, we are defenseless. Right now they are just noticing something has happened. They are slow to react; they are used to a long game indeed. Eventually, they will come for us in all their hideous glory, and we will lose. We could send you back to Earth; I could go with you. Perhaps with all of the force we have here in the castle, we could drag Christopher back. But that would only delay the inevitable.”
“Perhaps delay is good.” The captain was a trained strategic thinker. “Technology will progress. We’ll be stronger. We might even learn this magic you talk about.”
“Earth will never discover magic,” Richard said with finality. “It only comes from here. And honestly, I am not entirely certain Earth has time to wait. There are a number of threats that could credibly destroy terrestrial civilization. Your submarine’s arsenal represents only one of them.”
“How will this help?” Robert asked the same question Christopher wanted to.
“There are untapped resources here. There is space, open and unclaimed wilderness. There are foes to scare the Communists into the embrace of the Monarchists and have them all singing kumbaya. The differences between the races of men will melt away when they see a troll.”
“Not for long,” Lalania said. “Men in other kingdoms employ trolls and worse.” She was pretending to take Robert’s side, the better to be convincing when Richard countered the point. Christopher thought it was a pretty good objection anyway.
“Sure,” Richard conceded. “Eventually it will all go back to normal. But there will be an escape hatch, a way into another world. Even if we lose Earth, the human race will survive. And not as slaves for some monster. The monsters have magic; fine, we can learn it. Let them try and learn physics. I’ll gamble our whole species on us winning that race.”
Hearing his own arguments in the mouth of another made Christopher question himself. Did he sound so reckless? Had his position always been merely the precursor of invasion and conquest? Was he risking the fate of his world just for the sake of his wife? Or perhaps the fate of the entire cosmos; if humans lost this fight, the hjerne-spica would be empowered. They would not hesitate to make use of the worst aspects of technology. It might soon be elves and dragons facing nuclear weapons.
The wise course would be to open a gate and chuck them all back. Take the sub and submachine guns away. Leave the black powder for Alaine to clean up. Pack it in and go while there was still a chance to quit. Give up on his wife, who now lay dead because of his decisions, because of his obligations. Because he had not run home at the first opportunity. Because he had chosen power and glory over her. Because he had played at someone else’s game.
He looked across the table to where Karl sat, rapturously absorbing Richard’s talk.
He could flee thousands of light-years in a single step and still never outrun that face. Leaving was not an option.
Richard issued orders. Christopher followed them. The man was a certified genius, and he had a plan in mind that he was too wise to write down or fully reveal. Christopher, who had so long demanded blind trust from others, found himself on the receiving end.
The submarine was fully conquered. The squad of Royal Marines that held the arsenal never had a chance. Richard flew inside while invisible and put them to sleep with a spell. Christopher knew how they felt, from when it had been done to him. The Marines woke up in the same dungeon he had woken up in, although under considerably different conditions. The only torture was the local beer, which the Marines assured him was only fit for bathing in, not drinking.
In the middle of the night, they murdered a guard and snuck back into the submarine to set the reactor to overload. Richard knocked them out again, and Christopher revived the man they had killed. When the same guard served them breakfast in the morning, the fight went out of the Marines. They sat in the dungeon and drank his lousy beer.
Richard had Christopher open another gate to Earth. He took over Lalania, Karl, and a squad of cavalrymen he’d taught how to drive. They came back with a dozen jeeps and an armored personnel carrier.
Captain Robert objected to the proceedings. “You’re obviously hellbent on a career of robbery, but don’t compound it with kidnapping. Let my people go home.”
Richard shook his head in denial. “If they walk through that gate, MI6 will pick them up within hours. And how will they explain the loss of their ship? A lie will get them imprisoned; the truth will get them committed. I’m sorry, but they’re stuck here for a while. Once we’re done with our little mission, we’ll figure out how to establish trade and travel with Earth on a regular basis. Until then they’re better off here.”
“Prisoners of war have rights,” the captain said stiffly.
Christopher intervened. “They’re not prisoners. Okay, they are, but not of war. There’s no state of war here. We’ll pay for all this equipment eventually.”
“Are you mad, boy?” Robert spluttered. Christopher didn’t take offense; these days he was younger than Karl. It was disconcerting for them both. “Do you have any idea how much a Vanguard-class ship costs?”
“How much does a full course of cancer treatment cost?” Christopher responded. “I can cure twenty people a day.”
“Then why aren’t you?” The captain’s challenge hit home, and Christopher grimaced.
Richard answered for him. “Because he must husband his power. Until we finish our task, none of us is safe.”
“You have been less than specific as to the nature of your task,” the captain noted.
The wizard shrugged. “You understand operational security. It’s a need-to-know basis. I will tell you this much: I need your boat in operational order. I need your crew.”
Robert squared his shoulders, his face set like a mule. “You cannot command them.”
“You know we can,” Richard said. “You saw, at dinner.”
“No, we can’t,” Christopher said. “We will never be able to do that. Your people have to train my soldiers. That much has to happen. But no one will compel them to commit treason or suicide.”
The captain raised his eyebrows at the last word.
Richard objected. “We have at least a thirty percent chance of success. I wouldn’t
call that suicide.”
That did not comfort either the captain or Christopher. He tried to make the captain feel better anyway. “We’ll pay your people for the training. I’ll settle accounts with your government later.”
“But why?” Robert asked his brother. “She’s a beautiful ship, but her only armaments are torpedoes, which probably can’t even target anything you have here, assuming you have an ocean to fight in. And forget the missiles—I only have half the codes. You’ll never launch one.”
“A problem, yes. I have some ideas, but I’ll need to go offmainstream again to implement them. I hope I can convince Ell to come this time. The elves are shockingly poor company. The women don’t flirt and the men don’t drink.” Richard turned to Christopher. “I’ll need tael, too. Staggering quantities of it. We need to go back to Hel and do a little hunting.”
There were many things wrong with that plan. Christopher brought up none of them. “I’ll call Alaine and let her know,” he said.
Alaine did not come alone. She brought her boyfriend, who was not at all happy about recent developments. Lucien stared at him like a landlord at a particularly destructive tenant. In elven form, he was still gangly but now a full six inches taller. Sheer height made him intimidating.
“What is that thing lying in the river?”
Christopher considered several answers, including technical ones, and settled on the most truthful. “A mechanical dragon.”
Lucien rocked back on heels. “Do you challenge me for the domain, then?”
It was a thorny question. “I don’t,” Christopher finally answered. “I’m not sure I can speak for others.”
“I know you have ascended.” The dragon was trying not to sound threatening. “I can smell it on you if nothing else. But understand I am also elevated. In terms of raw power, I still outrank you.”
Christopher shook his head. “It’s not me you need to worry about. I warned you that change would come. Richard is just the leading edge of that change.”
World of Prime 05: Black Harvest Page 30