by Alma Boykin
“Will they ask for my removal or arrest me for espionage, Major?” Joschka knew that twist of her mouth all too well, and glanced at her hands, which had started to tighten. Commander Ni Drako balanced on the edge of a verbal eruption that would make a nuclear test look tame.
Before she could explode or Peters could make good on his threat, the colonel cleared his throat. “Major, you are right to be so concerned. In fact, if it is possible I would like you to come with the security party that investigates the valley. During our visit Miss Na Gael and I found some evidence of unauthorized excavations on the hillside overlooking where the bodies were found,” he explained.
“Then we go as soon as the autopsy reports are done,” Peters announced, eyeing Rachel with deep suspicion.
There was more bad news waiting for them. “Colonel, could you check my translation please?”
Joschka read over what the Commander’d assembled from both Austrian and Czech papers and news reports. “That’s a large number of missing people, Miss Na Gael.” She nodded unhappily as he looked at the list she’d drawn up. He tapped beside two of the names. «House names,» he sent. Her hand went to her signet.
“Ah, Colonel, that curse. Doesn’t it mention something about possession?”
He recited, “Spirits taken, bodies bound. It could well be, Miss Na Gael.”
“Imagine this, Colonel.” She leaned back in her chair, looking up at him as she counted off on her fingers. “A person wants power of some form, and after doing considerable research realizes that there is a point and place when it could have been accessed relatively easily, using certain forms of currently, to them, available technology, which are then taken to that location. Whoever has brought the technology back needs local allies, ones that will not ask too many questions about the materials being used or the reasons why. He, she, or it learns of a local religious group that believes in esoteric materials, that has a long history in the region, and that is familiar with local residents and vice versa, so,” and Rachel’s eye narrowed as she tipped the chair onto two legs.
He took the next logical step. “So the person contacts the religions group, posing as something or someone they recognize or want to see. Like the coven that suddenly became more open this past summer. If one of their gods appeared and was able to do wondrous things, they’d be very inclined to support him.” Joschka did not like the way this was going.
“And if that person is expending so many resources, going back farther and planting an invokable curse would be a small extra expense.” The Wanderer gave Joschka a mildly guilty glance. “And just to add to your entertainment, Peters has a latent Gift of some kind. I read it when he was inspecting my face,” Rachel admitted.
The autopsy report arrived that afternoon, but without the American. Rachel skimmed through it, expression grim. “They’re almost there,” she whispered, pointing to some of the detailed findings. “He lasted several hours longer than the previous two victims.”
They were studying the report when Captain Eschenbach looked in. “Colonel, have you seen Major Peters?”
“Not since 0815, Captain. Is someone looking for him?”
Eschenbach frowned, “General Esthergorm. Apparently Peters hasn’t been seen since he checked out to go out for the midday meal.”
Joschka and Rachel swore in chorus, in three different languages. The colonel pushed past Eschenbach, Rachel hard on his heels. “Whatever’s going on, I’m coming along,” she announced.
“Yes, you are. You have your paramedic’s certification with you?”
“Affirmative, Colonel.”
Twenty minutes later the HalfDragon, a black-clad Wanderer, and ten Army soldiers were on their way to the valley. Joschka’d managed to grab their weapons from the car and realized why his friend wanted the heavy coat after her sword and blaster vanished under it. «Cute, fluffy, and harmless,» she reminded him as he looked a bit askance at how quickly she’d armed.
They left the vehicles roughly half a kilometer from the place where the latest body had been found. “How unusual,” Rachel observed, leaning against the front of the command car and pointing to the ground. The previous night’s snow stopped as if someone had drawn a line just ahead of their bumper. In front of them the valley remained green, although the ground was damp.
“This makes no sense,” Eschenbach complained.
“It does if there was a large energy discharge in this valley last night or early in the morning,” the Wanderer corrected him. “There was a report of strange lights here a few weeks ago,” and she let her voice trail off. Joschka alone heard her add, «And just to warn you, a time ship arrived late last night, just after midnight.»
He managed to hide his reaction. «Oh shit.»
«Indeed. Think of it as an opportunity, Colonel. One of our perpetrators is here, available for removal.» Gone was the eccentric researcher, replaced by Commander Rada Ni Drako at her most intense.
At Joschka’s command, the men began moving toward the “cave,” Miss Na Gael in the middle of the group and now also carrying his blade under her coat. They met no resistance until they reached the edge of the woods and began walking across the clearing toward the hillside, when a commotion behind them sent the men reaching for their weapons. Soon they were under attack and taking blaster fire from enemies within the stand of trees.
Rachel was at the side of the first Austrian hit as soon as he fell, and examined him. “They’re using stun at the moment,” she called to Joschka. “They want as many of us alive and uninjured as possible, I wager.”
In the heat of the moment, Joschka forgot his friend’s cover. “I hope you’ve bet right, Commander.” He turned to Eschenbach. “Take command of the men and keep whoever is in the woods from entering the cave.”
“Yes, sir,” the captain replied, obviously confused, but not questioning the order.
“Commander, with me,” Joschka called, starting toward the cave mouth.
“Yes, sir,” and she trotted toward him, crouched low.
By now, almost nothing about the Commander surprised her friend and he barely blinked an eye when she shed her skirt to reveal breeches and knee-boots. She ran beside him with his sword in hand, and they darted into the freshly cut hole in the hillside. Without a word she changed into her true form, then drew her own weapon.
Before they could get very far, a shadow appeared behind them while a figure blocked their path ahead. “Let us pass,” Joschka growled to the person standing in front of him. The figure said nothing as he attacked. Huh? Joschka hesitated for an instant in surprise at seeing a blade and not a gun or blaster in his enemy’s hand, then centuries of training came to the fore. Behind him, Rachel bared her fangs then raised a battle cry. “Azdhagia!” rang out as she lunged at her opponent and Joschka echoed with “Drachenburg!” as he raised his own blade and parried.
Metal rang on metal, and Joschka ducked another blow, countering and parrying as the Commander guarded his back. “This is the 20th century! What the hell?”
She didn’t bother trying to answer, too busy with her own opponent, a humanoid who had a much longer reach than the Wanderer and held two blades to her one. Rachel started humming quietly, trying to find the rhythm of the attacks and work it into her “spell.” She could sense Joschka losing himself in battle rage and tapped his anger and fury, weaving it into her own blade work and giving her strokes an extra bite of emotion. It had been so long since they had fought as partners and yet it came back so easily! The confines of the “cave” worked to their advantage, allowing the fighters to concentrate on one challenger at a time.
Gifts boosted by her proximity to Joschka, Rachel could sense the Army soldiers outside, fighting against the witches’ possessed minions. The small part of her brain not wrapped up in the fighting wondered if now the American major would believe them that this wasn’t a Soviet attack. Probably not, and she saw her opening. She blocked her attacker’s down-stroke “wrong” and allowed him to bring his knife hand in
. At the last second she grabbed his knife hand and twisted, coming into a clench. Rachel felt him exalting, certain that he had the smaller, half-blind woman where he wanted her. Then she fed all the anger and battle-rage that she’d collected into him and as he staggered, she shoved hard, knocking him backwards. He reached behind to catch himself and Rachel swung, slashing him across the gut with her blade. The result was most satisfactory, from her point of view, and she finished the job with a twisting stab between his ribs.
Joschka had already defeated his opponent, clearing the way into the inner chamber of the cave. The two entered carefully, guards up. Joschka squinted a bit against the brighter light and Rachel whistled. “Very nice, very compact, and very illegal.” To his left Joschka noted an operating table and medical equipment that included items from his mercenary days, several thousand years in Earth’s future. Rachel gestured to a far corner and he averted his eyes from the strange, shifting, nausea-inducing edge of a time ship parked there.
An inarticulate snarl caught their ears and Joschka spun in time to see Rachel drop to the floor, clutching her left shoulder. Just beyond her, some sort of defense automaton walked forward, aiming a blaster at the small woman. She cursed and rolled to her feet, trying to get out of the way as the robot tracked her. The robot turned sideways to Joschka and he took a chance, ducking forward while drawing and firing his service pistol at close range. He got very lucky, because what ever he hit was not armored. Sparks flew and the matte silver figure hesitated, rocking back and forth. The man saw what he thought was the central processor through the exit hole in the automaton and he fired again. The robot froze, then toppled over. “Commander, are you all right?” he signed after holstering his weapon.
The small woman nodded and picked up her weapon. «Caught the edge of a stun shot. Arm’s a little numb, but otherwise serviceable.» The two soldiers looked around and realized that they had company.
Ahead of the fighters waited three people in dark red hooded robes almost the color of dried blood. One of figures, one of the witches perhaps, uttered an incantation and Joschka heard a hum. He lunged to the right as a beam flashed down from the ceiling of the cavern. The incantation grew louder, interrupted by a whine and a pop. Chips of stone and electronics showered down from a small explosion. On the other side of the entry, Rachel held her blast pistol muzzle up and grinned smugly. “Nice voice-activated stunner, but round one to the attackers.”
A second witch spoke. “You seem familiar with our tools.”
Rachel didn’t say anything, so Joschka replied for them. “We are.”
“Then you understand what we are doing and what can be gained by helping us. We’ve been watching you for quite a while, Colonel. You want power, more than you can achieve on your own. We can grant you that.” The man’s tone and words were incredibly seductive and Joschka shook his head to clear it. “Power in your own name, wealth in your own name, and proper recognition for your talents and status,” the voice continued. “Your family can take its rightful place, controlling and guiding the lesser peoples of this world.”
It was very tempting. Joschka’s mind drifted back to his younger self’s dreams of wealth and glory. Wealth he had some of now, through Magda, but glory? None, and never would have in his chosen career and location. The HalfDragon’s imagination roamed for a moment, and he saw himself with crown and conquest, leading the Houses on this world and others. He could bring back the luxuries that he barely remembered from his home world and truly live in comfort and ease, respected and honored as befitted a man like him!
As Joschka dreamed, the speaker turned to Rachel. “And for you? No one will dare pursue you without your consent. You will be beautiful again and men will beg to be in your presence and to protect you from any possible threat or harm.”
Rachel’s blade lowered while she holstered the blaster. The Wanderer took a deep breath. Her bitter, black laughter tugged Joschka out of his reverie. “Try something that doesn’t come from a fluffy novel if you want to truly temp me.”
The witch held out a hand, a new seduction in his voice. “I can give you a life of contentment and ease, with all the companionship you wish for and just rewards for all your efforts and talents. No longer in others’ shadows, no longer so alone...” At these words Rachel closed her eye and sagged as the fight left her. But something in Joschka slowly began waking and stirring.
“What do you wish, in exchange for all that you offer?” Joschka asked, only half-feigning eager interest.
“Only your cooperation, Colonel. Grant us access to the Drachenburg and help us find others like you. Not to share your power,” the hooded form assured him, “but to better serve and support you. We will teach you how to use the servants we will create for you; servants who never resist or disobey. What say you, Colonel, Miss Na Gael?”
“You offer nothing real, nothing of lasting value,” the Wanderer answered quietly. “I refuse.”
“Then you will become the next of our servants,” the third figure threatened.
She shrugged. “My body is no longer mine, my heart is already given, and my spirit died at the equinox. Do as you will.” Rachel sheathed her blade and spread her hands.
Joschka’s heart sank lower with each word her declaration. Oh Rada, what happened? His sorrow for her severed the last thread of his desire for the strangers’ offer. “I also refuse. All you describe is emptiness and false promise.”
“Then see what you will suffer!” The first speaker hissed, pointing to the cave wall. A holo projector showed armies of controlled humans, led by the hooded figures. Fighting spread across the planet and the witches fed and channeled the fear and hatred, the bloodlust and rage, to power their own desires. Fear for his wife and children surged through the HalfDragon.
As he watched the images, the Commander limped across the cavern to stand at his left hand. She said nothing, did nothing, simply waiting for his decision. He held the key, here on this world, on his world, his home, home of the family and country he’d promised to protect. Joschka steadied, banishing the last of the dream fog from his mind. No. What you promise you can withdraw, murderers. I am Joschka von Hohen-Drachenburg da Trobak and I fight for my own. I’ll die if I have to.
Rachel stood motionless, still waiting. Despite her earlier words he could sense her determined strength and the inner fire that burned despite her sorrow. Without thought or hesitation Joschka reached with his Gifts and felt her linking to him, boosting his shields as he brought them up.
“No! Neither temptation nor fear, trespasser and murderer. Leave here, take your technology with you, now, and release the humans you hold, or we will destroy you,” he warned.
“You cannot. Our minions have defeated your soldiers,” and Joschka heard, far behind him, a man’s voice calling “fall back! Fall back to those rocks!”
The witch continued, “And we notified the Traders of our discovery a time ship not far from here, for them to come collect. Our pilot was most interested in the find, I assure you.”
Rachel paled but said nothing. The second speaker, all seduction gone from his voice, warned them, “You will suffer for your defiance as has he,” and he pointed to a blond man lying on the floor, half-hidden behind some electronics equipment. “While we strip your minds, you will see the worst you can imagine come true. All that you dread will come to pass before your eyes.” Joschka shuddered at the pictures that sprang from his imagination even as he braced himself to defy the witches.
Beside him, Rachel listened, apparently unmoved by the witches’ threats and curses. Then she smiled, if such a bitter, pain-twisted expression could be called a smile. “Don’t bother. The ‘worst you can imagine’ has already happened.” As Joschka watched, she walked toward the hooded figures and began to sing. Joschka slammed his shields up as Rachel turned emotion into a weapon.
Joschka could never remember what song she had used, but he never forgot how much it hurt, twisting his heart even through his shields, and he could only imag
ine what it had been like for her and for those she focused her anguish on. He caught fragments of images—a pretty little girl with curly, dark brown hair and an infectious smile, the girl as a young woman, confident and eager to take on the world, and a glimpse of Rachel’s own face in a small mirror, wounds new and raw. Even with all his defenses up Joschka sensed her emotions: sorrow, anguish at loss, a parent’s love for a child, hideous guilt, and longing for oblivion that all poured through Rachel’s song as she forced the three robed figures to feel what she had suffered.
The “witches” had no defense against true, raw experience and all the love and pain of a full life. They staggered and collapsed, leaving Rachel, Joschka, and an unconscious Major Peters alone in the torch-lit cave. The song ended quietly and the small woman at the heart of the emotional storm looked down at her handiwork, backed a few steps, and hid her face in her hands. Joschka approached her, guard up and wary for other possible attacks, but none came.
“Commander?” he asked gently.
She shook her head and turned from him. “Forgive me, Joschka. I, what I did, so wrong. I should have died too.” He could barely hear her whispered words and without thinking he reached to take her into his arms. “No.” She pulled away. Joschka let her go and after a moment she regained control of herself. “Let’s see what sort of nastiness we have to clean up, Colonel.” Joschka didn’t care for the new darkness and emptiness he saw in her but they did, indeed, have work to do.
Rachel found the time ship’s pilot, slumped in a corner. He’d gone catatonic and a quick peek into the timeship revealed the ship’s creature floating dead in its tank. “Emotional overload of the symbiote,” she explained tersely. As Joschka unplugged all the electronics he could find, Rachel dragged the Trader into the vessel and did something inside. Then the Wanderer shut the door and the vessel’s shape warped and twisted before it vanished without a sound, making their ears pop. “Break the Laws, pay the price,” Rachel stated coldly. Joschka started to ask what she’d done to the ship, but saw the sorrow on her face and changed his mind. “We’re tied to each other and when one dies, it often hurts or kills the other,” she told him later.