In this Night We Own (The Commander Book 6)

by Randall Farmer

  “The people in Inferno decided I needed to be here for the presentation,” Racshke said. “Real life evidence, and, well, I’m far easier to read than you beef hunks.” Nancy still looked like something death had chewed up and then shat out the other end, but she could walk, talk and think again. As far as her womanliness was concerned, well, he hoped for her sake that her ugliness was from her ordeal, and not something permanent. Right now, she made the ugliest of their Monstrous women Commoners look beautiful. The worst, in his opinion, were the half-dozen bald spots on her head, but the fact she had lost three quarters of her teeth while trying to live off of snowshoe hares, lost all her toes and four fingers to early season frostbite, and lost the skin and muscles off the front of her left knee, to half way up her thigh, from some form of fungal rot didn’t help either.

  She liked the Nobles, though, and that helped a bit.

  “You do know we’re going to be presenting to an Arm?”

  “Uh huh, things could go bad, sure,” Nancy said, an actual twinkle in her eye. “But, hell, my entire life as a Transform has been things going bad.” She was a little bit of a defeatist, but he would be, too, if he had experienced what she had gone through. “Besides, I trust you guys.”

  Nancy’s Focus-Sport trick was to be able to take juice from a woman Transform and turn it into dross. She currently couldn’t move said created dross off the woman Transform, a very bad thing for the woman Transform, but Focus Rizzari believed she could teach Nancy how. After that, Nancy would be a Focus for real, able to keep a household of women Transforms alive, and with a little bit of correct politics, a whole bunch of Crows insanely happy.

  They drove the entire household over to the old abandoned camera shop, as part of their presentation to the Commander was the state of their Commoners, currently in their best shape ever. Even better, since their return from the quest, they had acquired Gwen, a woman Transform who had escaped some horrible dictator Focus, gone to Inferno, and got told she could either go back, die or join the Nobles. She had chosen them, survived her first élan draw, and again showed them the benefits of getting older women Transforms into their household instead of the newly transformed. She had barely decayed at all during the élan draw. Even better, Gwen and Pam had finished their first several days of Inferno Transform physical training, and they both were on their way to being as stout as the former Monster, Suzie.

  Two cars of Inferno’s fleet pulled up outside the camera shop, and disgorged a motley crew of Inferno bodyguards, ringing the Good Doctor as if he was the Pope or President. No Commander. Sellers pasted a smile on his face and welded it there, hoping Occum knew what he was doing. Duke Hoskins was going to go on a beastly rampage if the Commander didn’t show.

  The Good Doctor shook all their hands. “The three of you are looking quite fit, and human,” he said, radiating pleasure. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and looked different. Plastic surgery? Perhaps. Utterly professional, though. “Simply amazing. I’d like to introduce you to Arm Carol Hancock.” He waved his right hand and with his left edged forward a paranoid looking Inferno woman bodyguard. Who did not look the least bit like an Arm. She wore a pants suit and business jacket, had long dark hair half way down her back, and heavy makeup, applied Southern style. She even wore high-heeled cowboy boots, making her nearly six feet tall. She carried two shoulder holsters under her jacket, backup pieces in the top of her pants, in the back, and knives in both boots, a standard over-armed Inferno woman bodyguard.

  The young woman smiled, and suddenly, her entire glow changed, from Transform to Arm, and her presence transformed from paranoid bodyguard to, well, holy-shit-dangerous.

  “That’s me,” she said, her accent placing her from Missouri or Tennessee, her commanding tones reminding him of Master Occum, when he got most annoyed. “I’ve heard you boys have something to talk to me about.” Predator radiated off her, worse than even from Arm Keaton, those few times they had met. Now, Sellers noticed Hancock’s fierce steel grey eyes, how she moved like an expert hand-to-hand combatant, and the fact she wore a wig.

  Master Occum skittered behind the four of them, radiating utter and total panic. This wasn’t what he had arranged. Sellers gave the situation a moment of thought, and recognized the will of another predator in action – you never did what your enemies, or your potential allies, expected. Not if you wanted to live and fight another day.

  “Yes, Arm Hancock,” Duke Hoskins said, not displeased with her. He, too, understood the necessary ways of the predator. “A presentation.” He paused. “So, is that you, Sky, in that absurd costume?” This the Duke said to another of the Inferno women bodyguards.

  The indicated woman nodded. “I’m just here to make sure things don’t go to hell in a handbasket.” Sky’s comment, and his saucy projected emotion of ‘only I can take down the lot of you’, earned him a glare from five hot predatory sets of eyes. “Perhaps it might be better if I keep my mouth shut right now, though.” Sellers almost felt bad for Sky, who often spoke before he thought, and often got himself into this sort of trouble.

  “This way, Arm Hancock, if you are ready.” The Duke, still on his best behavior, motioned to the Arm; she nodded, and walked along with him, neither ahead nor behind, anticipating his every move. Sellers realized Hancock was damned talented at all the Arm tricks. He had been thinking that she, as the number two Arm, would be easier to deal with than the touchy and demanding Arm Keaton, but he had a bad feeling that Arm Keaton had been holding back on them more than they had realized. If the Duke didn’t watch himself, they would end up with an Arm as their boss, not their ally.

  They had the presentation set up in the old warehouse behind the camera shop, complete with maps, trophies and some photos taken by Master Occum. The Duke offered the Arm refreshments and a chair, and then the same to the rest of her entourage. Once all the guests sat down, he started in with the presentation, from Boston to Montreal to Labrador City, to the Beast dream, to the dragon Monster, to the actual trap, the rescue, and home. As he went through the story, the Duke introduced each of them at the appropriate moment, including Sir Dowling, Suzie, Pam, and Nancy. He left out the second meeting with the Madonna of Montreal, a meeting that also involved the Canadian Transform authorities, who wanted to lock Nancy in prison for life for ‘running away’. They had reached a deal – Nancy was officially dead, as far as their records were concerned, and she was now an official American Transform. Dead Major Transforms cost no money, an important consideration for the cash-strapped Canadian authorities.

  “In our own ways, as Noble Chimeras, we can see signs and portents,” the Duke said, starting the closing piece specially written up for Arm Hancock. “Like many others, we call you the Commander. We can also sense a war coming, a fight we take personally, as the mind behind it is the Master who has ruined far too many potential Noble peers of ours, turning them into Hunters, Patriarchs and Mountain Men with his mind-ruining Law tricks. We would like to volunteer our services for this coming fight, as combatants. As a token of our successful quest, as a simple gift, we would like to present to you this.” The Duke reached down, picked up a small jewelry gift box, and gave it to the Arm. “This ivory carving of a Monster once did something with dross and élan, but is now dead to the metasenses of all we have shown it to. This is Predecessor made, hundreds, if not thousands of years old. It’s a symbol of the dangers we all face, the danger of the unknown associated with the products of Transform Sickness. A symbol of why we wish to, as a part of the Cause, make the word ‘Chimera’ mean something more than ‘enemy’.”

  The Arm opened the box, took out the Monster carving, and examined it with her eyes and metasense. “Nice,” she said, and turned to Sky, waving her arm across the room. “How real is any of this?”

  Sellers’ hackles raised, and he fought anger over being called an illusion. Yet, her rudeness fit what he knew of her, as both Arm Keaton and Arm Hancock had the reputation for being paranoid. For them, the world was a dangerous place
, more dangerous for them, as women in a society where women were weak, and should know their place.

  “Ma’am, Carol, this is real,” Sky said. “This is evidence for and proof of…”

  The Arm cut him off. “The fact we don’t know shit about shit. Got that part. I mean, how real was their quest?”

  “Ask Nancy.”

  The Arm’s hot gaze flew by the Nobles; Sellers put his hand on the Duke’s shoulder and squeezed, as he felt the Duke ready to explode. Hoskins took a deep breath, and then another. They did bring the Arm here to judge them, and she did so in a manner as harsh as one Noble to another.

  “You,” Hancock said. “Come here.”

  Nancy stood and walked over to Hancock, a puppet on her charismatic strings, as if the Arm was a high-end Focus Bitch.

  “Sky, scoot and give Nancy your chair.” Sky did as told, though in his case, he moved not because of the Arm’s charisma, but because of his Crow good sense.

  The Arm took Nancy’s face in her hands and began to question her. Sellers had never seen anything like it; the questioning was closer to a mind rape than a mind reading. The poor abused Focus-Sport didn’t have a chance, or, given her condition, the will to even mildly resist.

  “There’s something more out there,” Nancy said, about ten minutes in. “I think it’s half alive, and it’s got memories in it, memories of the old ones that the Lost Tribe calls the Predecessors.”

  “There’s a lot more out there than that,” Sky said. The Arm shushed down his mutter.

  “No, this is important,” Nancy said. “It’s the center of whatever strange juice network the old ones had set up. It’s what awakened when Arm put her blood in the Madonna’s baby walrus skull. It’s important, because it knows how these old ones lived and survived.”

  “I see,” Hancock said, boring into Nancy’s eyes. “That’s important, something someone’s going to have to look into in the future. Make sure Focus Rizzari learns of this.” She turned from Nancy, who barely caught herself from falling out of her chair. “The rest of this is pointless academic bullshit I’ll let Hank handle…” Now Sellers started to lose it. Goddamned Arms! “but, wait, I accept your quest as proof of your prowess. Jeez, you’re as touchy as us Arms, aren’t you?” She smiled a happy smile. “Look, I’m like you three. Give me a fight and I’m happy. The dragon Monster fight proved your worth to me. The rest of this insanity is frosting on the cake.” She paused and looked them over, and, like the Duke, ignored Sir Dowling as if he didn’t exist. “Now, which of you poor suckers is going to get stuck answering Hank’s hours of questions, and which of you is going to get lucky and get to spar with me?”

  They stuck Occum with the Good Doctor, without even discussing it.

  Tonya Biggioni: December 6, 1968

  “Tonya, I’ve heard,” the angelic voice said.

  Tonya smiled to hear Focus Patterson’s voice again. It always filled her with wonder.

  “That I’m surrendering? I must,” Tonya said.

  “I agree, on one condition,” Focus Patterson said. “Use your guile and charisma to take over Hancock and those around her. Hit them from surprise, when they’re least expecting it. Rizzari will be there too, so be warned. Nevertheless, bring them to me. I want to talk them into becoming part of my household. It’s time to make an end of Rizzari’s rebellion and Hancock’s independence. It’s time they started working for me.”

  “I may not be able to succeed,” Tonya said.

  “You will if I give you a little help,” Patterson said. “Shut your eyes and listen close.”

  Tonya did.

  “Tonya?”

  She opened her eyes and blinked. “Lunch time already? Sorry, Delia. I haven’t been getting enough sleep recently. I must have fallen asleep.” She couldn’t even remember what she had been doing before she dozed off.

  Carol Hancock: December 10, 1968

  “Wow,” I said, after Gilgamesh returned to Houston with a van-full of Lori and her bodyguards. I had been home for days, the benefit of being willing to take an airplane. “You weren’t kidding about pregnant Focuses being different, were you?” I was still high from the Nobles’ presentation, and in a far more tolerant mood, at least to people who were currently or had once been my friends.

  Lori’s cold eyes glanced at me, and my heart fluttered. We locked eyes and metasenses in my entryway, as we had in the bloody park in Wisconsin, and her ice melted, and my annoyance over the games she had been playing with me since she cut off contact with me vanished as well.

  Her baby had dropped, and the late stage pregnancy on her slight frame had altered her balance and her poise. The bigger change was to her metapresence and to her aspect, Gilgamesh’s term for someone’s background charisma. I found myself ready for a fight, against any enemies who might threaten her; I don’t think I could have avoided giving up my life to protect her. Even Lori’s Inferno bodyguard crew radiated love and protection, which had to be a first for them.

  “Gotta pee, gotta pee,” Lori said, breaking the spell, as she rushed off on her tiptoes to the nearest bathroom without having to be told where to go. Tim Egins, bodyguard, Inferno executive, and mine, shook my hand warily. I had tagged him back in June. Terry Bishop, the bodyguard group’s only non-Transform, followed Tim’s lead. I noticed on her the results of Inferno’s most recent advancement, advanced training techniques for normals, using juice tricks to sense how best to train an individual instead of the Transform ‘juice amplification of training itself’ trick. Tina Williams nodded to me and didn’t shake my hand, burying her hostility behind as blank a face as she could manage. She had changed the most since our last meeting, physical training piled upon more physical training. As a tall woman she had always been a bruiser; now I was sure she could have plastered me as an Arm at any time before Keaton started training me in Philly and likely for a good while after.

  “So, is my name ‘mud’ in Inferno for dragging the Focus to Houston for this?” I said, asking Tim. Not too long ago, according to Gilgamesh, they had been furious at me because of the rape.

  He shook his head. “Not if you and the Focus make up.” They wanted their Arm back, badly. Quite a change from a few months ago. Amazing what the passage of time and an inundation of other problems will do for one’s perspective.

  “Well, we’ll need to see about that,” I said. “First, a treat. Dinner. My cooking.”

  My ersatz apology even got Tina to smile.

  ---

  “Of everything you’ve encountered, your various captivities, all the fights you’ve been in, you’ve never faced danger like this,” Lori said. “If Tonya comes in thinking betrayal, we’re all doomed.”

  I looked across the dining room table at Lori. I had already outlined what I was going to do to Tonya to reduce the danger. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She sighed. “Physically, I’m twice the woman I once was,” she said, patting her belly. “I’m about half the Focus I once was as well. From what I learned this time, I won’t have any trouble next time, but I’ve got to put together a whole new bag of tricks for the changes caused by a Focus pregnancy. The worst is that my old tricks to prevent low juice problems aren’t working as well.” She tapped the side of her head, indicating memory problems and perhaps IQ problems. “And big emotional problems,” she said, reading my mind. “Some of my anger at you over what you and Sky did to each other comes from this.”

  Did to each other? I smelled a mental compromise in action. “Rape is something I normally reserve for my enemies. But I’m not ruling it out for other situations.”

  Lori frowned. She expected me to cave, filled with Focus love. “What sort of situations?”

  “First, interactions with other Major Transforms,” I said. “That’s a case of not knowing what might be needed. Lori, from the way I see things, Major Transforms have grabbed more rights of action as individuals than other people. By grabbing this right, we also forfeit the right to complain about how other Major Transform
s treat us. Look at Focus politics.” Which I was more than tired of doing, thank you very much. “You Focuses respect no limitations about how you behave toward each other, other than ‘might makes right’ and the perils of social ostracism by other Focuses.”

  Lori nodded. “Day to day Focus politics is illegal and disgustingly immoral, and what we do when we get nasty with each other is always unconscionable. Other situations?”

  “Training, lessons, punishment,” I said. “If someone gives themselves to me to be trained, I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to do the job. Including rape. Hell, including killing them, which I’ve learned for Focuses can be, um, recovered from.”

  “I’m beginning to understand the formalisms needed for this,” Lori said, shifting awkwardly in her chair with a sigh. “The boundary is this: if you’re a guest in my household, physical or implied, rape and other extreme forms of violence are off the table, as far as Inferno members are concerned, unless prior arrangements have been made. Even if you’re training them or disciplining them.”

  “I can agree to your restrictions.”

  Our eyes met with a small war of wills. None of the others at the table, including Gilgamesh, bothered to breathe. “I reserve the right to react badly to violence of any form, though,” Lori said.

  I snorted.

  “This isn’t personal,” Terry said, the lone normal at my table, and not in the least bit intimidated by the rest of us. “The Focus reacts badly to violence even when she does it.”

  “Ah,” I said. Now I relaxed. She wasn’t being a hypocritical bitch, she was holding to her own ethical core. Even if I thought her reactions were misguided. “Your real problem is what I did to Rogue Focus, isn’t it? You were right there on my shoulders.”

  Lori froze, and then nodded. “Was it really necessary for you to do what you did?” She had never asked before. From the way she asked, I knew she was well off her game, despite Gilgamesh’s insistence she had received some recent Crow help in that area. I took mental notes, just in case, heaven forbid, I ever got pregnant.