by Chris Fox
Her meaning was clear, but Blair avoided it, shifting the discussion. “You’re the Lord of San Francisco?”
“That’s my title, yes,” Melissa replied, giving a self-deprecating eye roll. It was well-practiced, clearly honed in whatever life she’d had before becoming deathless. Marketing, probably. “Melodramatic, but I’m part of a larger council. There are Lords throughout Northern California, most of them loosely allied with each other. It’s a bit like feudal Europe—a bunch of tyrants bickering over power. That bit, you get for free. If you want more information, you need to share. Who are you, and what’s your connection to the Great Ark?”
“I’m Blair and this is Liz. The surge of power was the activation of the light bridge in my Ark.”
That got her attention. Melissa licked her lips, blinking twice. Then she rose gracefully. She had no heartbeat to read, but her nervousness was clear enough. “Your Ark? I see. Will you follow me? I can give you a brief tour, and show you where your friends are. I’m willing to do that in good faith, provided you agree to extend me the same courtesy.”
“That all depends on what happened to the people on Angel Island,” Liz said. She rose slowly, dangerously. She took a half-step closer to Melissa, looming over the shorter woman.
“Please, I don’t want to this end in bloodshed. So far as I know, your people are alive and well,” Melissa said, raising a hand to forestall Liz’s advance. “It’s much easier if I show you. I can explain everything.”
Blair caught Liz’s gaze, and raised a questioning eyebrow. Liz glowered, but fell into step with Melissa. Melissa relaxed visibly, then led them deeper into the ferry build, into a hub of activity. Most of it centered around a huge diorama that had been constructed in the center of the plaza. It was set out on sixteen tables, each showing a section of San Francisco. Suit-clad deathless with tablets moved hurriedly between the tables, tapping away at their screens without looking up.
“This is our logistical headquarters. We organize salvage missions throughout the city, stripping everything from old cars to medical equipment. Those are brought back here for processing and distribution,” Melissa explained. She led them among the tables, into what Blair guessed must be the processing area.
Half a dozen booths had been set up around the doors leading out to the docks. The doors opened, and a beefy deathless set two big boxes at one of the booths. The clerk scurried over and began unpacking a variety of cell phones and tablets.
Deathless at other booths were processing books, clothing, and jewelry. Blair noted the conspicuous absence of food. There were no canned goods, no boxes of Twinkies.
This wasn’t a group of humans recovering from the apocalypse. These people were deathless. He couldn’t afford to forget that.
“We’re nearly there.” Melissa strode past the last pair of booths, pausing at a makeshift office in what had once been the information desk. A sixty-inch monitor hung from the rear wall, displaying a Windows desktop. Melissa gestured at a pair of chairs, then sat. “Please, join me. Being in charge affords me a few perks, and my ginormous monitor is one of them.”
“How do you have working computers? You shouldn’t even have power, after the CME,” Blair blurted.
Melissa eyed him curiously, and Blair had the sense he’d given something away. Then he realized he’d forgotten about the time gap. San Francisco might have already had power for years. “The CME damaged a lot of the power grid, and it fried most unprotected electronics. When I say most, I’m talking upwards of ninety-five percent. But that meant that five percent still worked. We started processing material within months of the CME, and have been restoring services ever since. We’ve had help.”
She faced the monitor, so Blair did the same. The screen now showed something he’d never expected to see again: Google Earth. The map zoomed in over the Americas.
“About two years ago a ship arrived with gifts,” Melissa explained. She zoomed in further on Brazil. “Apparently, electronics closer to the equator were much less impacted than the rest of the world. Brazil sent us ham radios. They were dropping them off in every city, from San Francisco to Tokyo.”
“You have the internet. Why do you need ham radios?” Liz asked. She was goggling at the screen, and Blair imagined he wore the same expression. These people had internet.
“Our internet is much more limited than you might think.” Melissa’s disappointment was clear. “Google, Facebook, and Apple were all headquartered here. We were able to restore the internet in the Bay Area, but not much further. It’s a pale shadow of what you remember from before. The maps you’re seeing are all from archived data. There are no more satellites, so if the world has changed we’re unaware of it.”
“You were going to tell us about our friends,” Blair said. He badly wanted the intel she had, but right now the most important thing was finding their people.
“Indulge me for just a minute more,” Melissa said. The screen zoomed in again, this time over northern California. She wiggled the mouse over each area as she spoke. “This is the most organized power block in Northern California. We’re called the Lords of Silicon Valley. Don’t blame me; I didn’t get a vote on the name. Our territory extends to the Altamont Pass, and stops at the Sierras in the east—and not because they’re big mountains, either.”
“Then why?” Liz asked.
“Because people who go into the mountains don’t come back. They get mauled by giant bears. We’ve had entire scouting parties disappear; after a couple years of trying we finally gave up. And that’s hardly the only anomaly. A lot of old things have woken up, and we’re only just beginning to understand them.” Melissa’s tone shifted, colored by the first real bit of fear Blair had seen her exhibit. She shook her head, seizing control of the conversation once more. “You asked about your friends. When I first rose to power in San Francisco, they were still on Angel Island. After a rather unfortunate misunderstanding, they moved north. They’ve settled here.” She wiggled the mouse pointer over a town about forty miles north of San Francisco.
“Santa Rosa. Didn’t you use to be a teacher there?” Liz asked Blair.
“Yeah, and I know the area really well.” He turned to Melissa. “Thank you so much for your time, Melissa. We need to go find our people. I hope you don’t consider us rude if we leave.”
“I—see,” Melissa said. She eyed him calculatingly. “Would you be open to a meeting in the future? I am sure the other Lords would like to meet you, as we’re now neighbors.”
“Liz?” Blair asked.
“We’re willing to meet,” Liz allowed, “provided everything you’ve told us is true.” She leaned over the table, staring hard at Melissa. “Otherwise, Blair and I will be back to talk about it.”
Chapter 6- Santa Rosa
“Do you trust her?” Liz asked, her disembodied voice originating from the shadows to his right. Blair looked out over the valley below, the place where he’d lived for over a decade. Sonoma County, the heart of wine country. So many memories.
“I trust her to look after her own interests,” Blair replied, “and right now I don’t see what she’d gain from making us enemies. I didn’t probe her mind, but she let us go without asking anything.” He focused his attention on Petaluma, the closest of the towns below. The moon hung low over the horizon, but it gave plenty of light to see, even without his enhanced vision. “It looks like she was telling the truth—or part of it at least. Do you see that row of cars? It looks like they’ve moved them into a wall from 101 to Highway 16. Those are defensive fortifications.”
“Clever. Reminds me of what Roberts did in Panama,” Liz said, her voice closer. She was standing right next to him, yet Blair could detect nothing, of course. Not without pinging. “I see a few lights down there, but nothing like San Francisco. I’m guessing they’re lanterns.”
“Whatever Melissa is doing to restore technology, I doubt she’s willing to share.” Blair continued to study the wall of cars, and after a moment spotted movement. The lo
nger he looked, the more he saw. Instead of men with guns, though, the shapes were four-legged. A few trotted atop the wall of cars, but most prowled the darkness just south of the wall.
“I wouldn’t expect her to,” Liz said. “However nice she played, it seemed pretty clear that the deathless and champions are enemies. She may not actively be at war with our people, but she sure as hell chased them out of the Bay Area.”
“Liz, I’m pretty positive we’re in the right place,” Blair said, unable to suppress his sudden enthusiasm. “Do you smell them? Those are dogs. Someone’s made a pack, or multiple packs.”
“Like Adolpho?” Liz asked.
Blair hadn’t thought of the diminutive Peruvian since they’d first woken the Mother. Adolpho had been killed getting them inside, along with the ever-present pack of dogs always trailing after him. “Just like Adolpho. Do you think we should approach?”
“Yeah, but I want to be cautious. Let’s find out what we’re getting ourselves into before we let them know we’re here. We have no idea what changed while we were gone, and the last thing I want is to be attacked by people that should be our friends.” Liz’s voice moved farther away as she moved down the hillside.
“All right,” Blair said. He closed his eyes, willing energy to surge through him. It was just a bit, a tiny amount compared to the vast ocean of power offered by the Ark.
Blair shifted, this time into the body of a true wolf. His senses sharpened, and he reveled in his speed as he loped down the hillside. Having four legs was handy. He extended the energy, offering it in Liz’s direction, and felt her accept; she too shifted into a full wolf.
It might not have been the fastest way to approach, but it gave them the best chance of seeing the patrols before they were spotted. Plus, if these packs did detect them, they’d react more favorably to wolves.
They loped silently through the night, eating up the few miles to the wall of cars. An owl screeched above. Several dogs barked in the distance. The wind carried the scent of rusted metal and gunpowder, overlaying canine scents—dozens of them, crisscrossed all around them. This place was well traveled.
They slipped across the final field, stepping cautiously onto the cracked asphalt. 101 had not fared well, and was now more potholes than freeway. Weeds grew everywhere, tall enough to provide at least some cover.
Blair crept along the wall of cars, prowling toward a narrow gap wide enough for a person to peer through. He could hear the heartbeats just beyond, dozens of them. They were too fast to be human, and even were that not the case, he could smell that they were dogs. Blair leapt silently to the top of the line of cars, creeping to the edge.
The moonlight showed dogs of all shapes and sizes, with just about every major breed represented. Most lounged around the asphalt in groups of two or three, huddling together for warmth. Then a tiny black-and-white Shih Tzu shot to its feet and began barking furiously, rushing in Blair’s direction. Dogs rushed forward by the dozens, barking at Blair.
Liz was gone, probably vanished into his shadow. She could pop out if he got into real trouble, but right now the dogs didn’t seem to be much of a threat.
“They recognize you,” a strong voice called from the shadows of a toppled freeway sign. The figure took several steps forward, until it was standing in a pool of moonlight. “They call you the whelp. That’s a strange name, don’t you think?”
The man was old, his voice like sandpaper. He had a long, grey ponytail tied with a simple piece of leather. His skin was mottled with age, weatherbeaten by years of backbreaking labor in the sun. Sharp brown eyes lurked under thick white eyebrows, like snowcapped peaks along his craggy face. Blair could sense something in him. The dogs quieted when he spoke and stared as he approached.
“It’s not strange,” Blair said, “if you ever met the Mother. I’m Blair, and my Ka-Ken is Liz.” Blair felt an instant kinship with the man. He wasn’t just a champion, but a strong shaper.
“I am John Rivers, of Petaluma. I’ve heard your name, Blair. All of us have. They say you left on a bridge of light to battle gods from the ancient world. There any truth to that?” The old man was calm, and if the mention of a Ka-Ken put him off at all he didn’t show it.
“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” he replied. “We helped Isis deal with Set, and now we’re back.” Liz still hadn’t appeared, which suggested she didn’t share Blair’s trust.
“You’ll want to speak with Alicia, then.” John reached into his pocket, then fished out a hand-rolled cigarette. He put it between his lips, then went still. Blair felt something stir in the man, and the cigarette’s end flared to life. A tiny tendril of pungent smoke floated skyward. “She’s our war chief. She leads the Great Pack.”
“Alicia?” Liz asked, finally stepping from the shadows. She’d shifted to warform, nine-and-a-half feet of muscle and fangs. She had gained at least six inches of height after absorbing Wepwawet. “She’d be what, fifteen now?”
“Near enough,” John said, eyeing Liz like she’d sprouted a third eye. “I can already smell trouble. You and Alicia are going to be like oil and water, especially since she’s been spoiling for a fight since Windigo started picking off our people.”
“Excuse me?” Liz demanded. She straightened, looming over John. John seemed unimpressed.
“John,” Blair said, “we’d appreciate anything you can tell us about Alicia while we travel there. We should speak with her as soon as possible.” Blair placed a hand on Liz’s side, and she relaxed.
“Of course, Ka-Dun.” John nodded graciously. “My pack should remain here to watch for deathless incursions, but I’ll escort you to Santa Rosa. Can you blur?”
Chapter 7- Ark Lord
Jordan’s hand shot to his sidearm as soon as he was aware of his surroundings. As he had expected, he’d landed on the light bridge platform. It was an exact mirror of the one he’d left, with no way to tell which Ark he was in—well, no visual way.
Something massive pulsed at the edge of his vision, a sea of power waiting to be tapped into. Jordan reached experimentally toward it, shocked by the depth of the reservoir. Blair had described the feeling, but this was the first time Jordan had experienced the true power offered by the role of Ark Lord.
He strode up the golden pathway, the diamonds in the wall flaring brilliantly to life as he traced a familiar route back to his quarters. He hadn’t been here since their brief stay in Peru, before Irakesh had fled north with the access key. How long ago was that now? Two months? Three? He genuinely had no clue. Add in the five years they’d somehow missed, and anything could have happened here.
What do you expect to find within your chambers, Ka-Dun? The beast’s tone was respectful, maybe even a little awed. Jordan understood completely. The Ark was that impressive, and the fact that he controlled it refused to take root.
“Those were prime quarters,” Jordan replied. “If someone is living in the Ark right now, they’ll be there. If not, I’d love to grab my second favorite holster. I lost my favorite somewhere in Turkey.”
Ka-Dun, the key within you offers command of this most holy place. You may use it to sense anything within, including anyone dwelling here now.
“Well that’s damned handy.” Jordan stopped in the middle of the corridor, closing his eyes. He reached toward the well of energy again, this time trying to feel the Ark around him.
An entirely new set of senses sprang into his head. It is thirty-seven degrees outside the Ark. The energy reserves are at 4%. The occupants of the Ark are applying a 12% drain to energy accumulation.
“Occupants,” Jordan said, eyes snapping open. “How many and where—show me a map.”
The Ark obligingly supplied a vibrant hologram near Jordan’s head. It showed a three-dimensional cutaway of the Ark. Orange lights were displayed on several levels, some moving slowly up and down corridors. Four of those lights were making their way toward the light bridge, but he’d already made it past the intersection they were taking.
What wi
ll you do, Ka-Dun?
“If I’m understanding how the Ark works,” Jordan mused aloud, “I could probably incinerate them all before they’re even aware of me. They clearly know I’m here, but they’re not necessarily hostile—and even if they are, they’re still the best immediate source of intel. They know more than I do about the last five years.”
Jordan shifted, and coarse blond fur instantly covered his body. His senses sharpened, and he could smell the intruders: three females and a male, all champions. That didn’t cause him to relax, though. Quite the opposite—just because they were werewolves didn’t mean they were friendly.
He blurred, kicking up a fierce wind as he zipped through the tunnels. It came effortlessly, and the universe slowed to a crawl around him. Jordan had never moved this fast. Maybe Blair had, but if so Jordan had never seen it. This bond to the Ark was incredible.
Jordan burst around a corner, kicking off a wall into the light bridge chamber. None of the champions seemed ready for a fight; their faces were more curious than alarmed. The lead figure was kneeling next to the platform, one palm placed against the golden metal. Her eyes were closed, and Jordan could sense some sort of signal flowing from her.
She was shaping.
That shouldn’t be possible, Ka-Dun. Not so far as I know. Shaping is the purview of the Ka-Dun, as battle is the purview of Ka-Ken.
Jordan had essentially all the time in the world to examine the situation, and he decided to use that time. He darted over to the woman, kneeling next to her nearly frozen form. She was tall, with long dark hair—beautiful, but severe. Motes crawled through the air near her face, and her deep blue eyes were fixed with concentration. The signal wasn’t coming from her. It was coming from the golden bracelet on her wrist. It was clearly sunsteel, with a triangular sapphire set in the center. It contrasted oddly with her homespun dress. The white fabric looked handmade.