An Age Without A Name

by Randall Farmer

  My major problem was Haggerty. Her group had created decent enough metasense shielding to cover her entire army, so I didn’t know the specifics on her force structure. At some point I needed to hunt her down, get a read on her army, and order them to move their asses down here. Which wouldn’t take long. Her group appeared to spend most of its time in motion, and they could move quickly when needed. They were healthy and strong, but also shadowed by enough of the Hunters’ army that adding them to the pot wouldn’t help much. According to my dreams, wherever they went, a Hunter army followed.

  There were just too many Hunters.

  I worked on evacuation procedures in my head as we brainstormed.

  “How much would it take for you to arrange to evacuate all the Bay Area Focuses?” Mizar asked, about a half hour later. “I mean, real transport. Busses and semi-trucks, the same way the Hunters move people around.”

  “Not much. Why?” I asked.

  “You’re going to stage the fight somewhere, but no matter where, we’re going to be outnumbered,” Mizar said. “Have a fleet of semi-trucks and busses nearby and ready to roll.”

  That was already part of my contingency planning. It was, though, the first true contribution Mizar made to our discussion. I was willing to cut him a lot of slack on this, given how little time he had spent back in civilization. Besides, the image in his head, of a shopping center filled with semis ready to rumble, wasn’t something I had thought of. Mostly, in these messes, each Focus household organized their own transport. If we lost, a group mass evacuation would help a lot. “Good idea,” I said. I got up and looked around the rental, actively trying to make it mine. Nice place, if you liked bare wood and an ocean overlook, and could ignore the impersonal decorations. The kitchen was a tad smaller than I preferred, though.

  We talked some more. Running the numbers in my head, I decided the fight needed to be in the urban area on the west and south side of San Francisco Bay. Somewhere between Palo Alto and San Jose. Anything north of that on the peninsula put us too much at risk of getting trapped by Enkidu’s army, despite the urban density. Anything to the south would put us in rugged rural terrain perfect for the Hunters. Los Angeles would be a better place for a fight, and I created contingencies to move all the Bay Area Focuses to LA if Enkidu allowed me to slap his people in the nose, hard, before his main attack.

  “We’ve never used Lori’s illusion tricks in a battle,” Sky said, ten minutes later. “We talked about this during the Quad Cities fight, but it got vetoed because it would reveal too much to the first Focuses. That’s not a problem anymore.”

  “Right, right,” I said, remembering the discussion and her revelations about what she could do with her illusions. I turned to Lori, who shrugged. “How much can you cover, these days?”

  “How much juice can you get me?”

  I snorted. “How disgusting are you going to let me be?” Los Angeles, for some unknown reason, always produced more Transforms per Focus, percentagewise, than any other place us Arms knew of. Only the Cairo to Vicksburg strip, along the Mississippi, came close. It was why us Arms salivated over LA as a territory, and why Keaton could run an Arm school there and never run short of prey.

  Lori wrinkled her nose. “We don’t have to kill them to take their juice, you know.”

  “I didn’t think you did the temporary tag trick.”

  “I don’t, unless forced,” Lori said. “However, I’m far enough along as a witch Focus to be able to take a woman Transform’s juice without tagging her. The trick’s got heavy moral implications, of course, but I’m willing to ignore them for now.”

  “In that case, how about ten square miles,” I said, smiling. “That is, as much as Mizar here can cover, in an urban area, with his metasense and anti-dream shields.”

  “You have an idea, don’t you,” Lori said, a wry smile suddenly on her face.

  I nodded. I had several, in fact. “This isn’t enough to ensure a victory, or even sway the odds that much. But it might allow us to hit Enkidu hard enough and fast enough to get him to back off, even in a winning situation for him. It might also get us some extra troops.”

  “You’re thinking of recruiting from Enkidu’s army?” Mizar asked. “By Law removal?”

  I nodded again. “Crow Master Sinclair’s with Haggerty’s army, and he can strip the Law off a Hunter or Gal in a minute. Once they’re captured. He can convert the enemy wholesale.”

  If I only knew how prophetic my words were, and how wrong…

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Mizar said. “Your plan sounds fabulous. I don’t see a single logical hole or loose end.” I did, but I wasn’t talking. For instance, we could easily get sunk by even the tiniest Arm dominance issue among the senior Arms. “I just wish I didn’t have this, well, mystical juice feeling that we’re missing far too much. That something else – somethings else – are going on. Things that may be bad enough to destroy us.” I gave him a sideways glance, and he wasn’t being horsey or petulant or difficult. He was being scared. Well, I knew that feeling, as I got it before all of these fights. Being ‘the Commander’ was a terrifying thing just before a battle. We nodded to each other. He understood. He steadied my nerves, and I steadied his, both of us using our tags on each other.

  I went over to the dining room table, everything now decided in my head. I pulled out the maps and found the one covering the south end of San Francisco bay. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to move everyone we can dragoon to San Jose. Including the Chicago people, the Memphis Arm pack, Lupe Rodriquez’ Los Angeles Focuses, and the Canadians.” Getting Armenigar and the Madonna of Montreal here was an absolute necessity, at least for the symbology, if not their personal capabilities. I circled the location of the current Inferno household. “This is our staging area. Enkidu wants to trap us with our backs against the mountains and ocean with nowhere to flee. To stage a Yorktown, according to Van. Well, I’m going to use Enkidu’s desire to trap us as bait, giving us an opening to whap him, hard, when he rushes in. I’ll get Webberly to find us a battleground near the east side of San Jose, some place with enough buildings to constrain the Hunters but not too many people to cause a public relations disaster. A freight yard or warehouse district would be perfect, but if I can trust what I remember from hunting the area as ‘magical Carol’, there aren’t any nearby. When Enkidu appears, we’ll attack him and smack his army hard enough to make them fall back. This will give us time to set up something better than this disaster.” I paused, thinking of Keaton’s fallback Los Angeles armory, a warehouse brimming with guns, ammo, trucks, explosives and miscellaneous heavy ordnance. I got her to cough this up in my last meeting with her in Chicago. “And, if he makes enough mistakes, we’re going to take him down permanently.” I took a deep breath. “Now, we need to go out and do a little recruiting, subtle-style.”

  Count Frederick Dowling (3/20/73)

  “I tell you, something’s up,” Fred said.

  “If you have a concrete observation, tell me, your grace,” Rose answered. She refused to let him drive any vehicle she occupied. The two of them were returning to Stone Point by car, after making the rounds of all the cooperative Focuses as well as a couple of short visits with two Focuses who were extremely hostile. A long trip, over a day, but worth it. Crow Master Zero’s guess had been right, that a presentation by both predators was necessary to convince the Focuses to work together and take orders. Not that Fred was going to be giving them orders, he realized. That was Rose’s responsibility. The only group that really pulled at him to add to his list of responsibilities was Inferno.

  “Political agitation.”

  She sighed. “Local or otherwise?”

  “Local, but not our people. Two things going on at once, and I can’t separate them, but I don’t believe they’re connected. First, I really didn’t like Focus Wilson or her people.” Focus Pansy Wilson actually said she wouldn’t help them defend the San Francisco area even if the Hunters were camped out on her front lawn an
d threatening to eat her people. “The thing with her attendants in white cloaks with the flaming hill badges really gave me the creeps. Her place was practically drowning in dross – they really need a Crow there, they don’t have one, and I can’t believe they still live in that cesspool. Second, it’s like there’s a new Arm or another Crow VIP in the vicinity. Or higher ranking Noble, but that’s impossible, unless…”

  “Unless what?” Rose paid the toll at the Carquinez Bridge and pulled the car forward into Vallejo. It was a beautiful day, cool, a little cloudy, with a light breeze in from the sea. Fred still smelled the gathering storm to the east, a storm threatening to break at any moment.

  “Unless Haggerty’s army’s showed up.”

  “Well, that would be problematical, your grace.”

  “You don’t get along with Arm Haggerty?”

  “No. I don’t,” Rose said. Fred repressed a sigh; this must be Arm politics of some totally obscure variety. He waited while Rose ground her teeth, and he subtly supported her, and leeched away her stress. Traffic was lighter here in Vallejo, and they made it through quickly. Just a few minutes more, and they would be home.

  “If she comes here, even though she’s senior to me, I have rank on her because it’s my territory, and because that’s the way we set up the tags,” Rose said, as they drove through the quieter countryside that was Napa. Someone, somewhere, seemed to have decided that Napa was wine country, and that wine was good for making money. Fred wondered if maybe it might be a wise idea for Stone Point to pick up some of the nearby land for vineyards, before other people bought up all the good land. He decided to mention the idea to Ellen. “She’s not going to come here unless it’s an emergency, though.”

  “Hrrr.” Having worn a standard Arm tag for a while, he understood Rose’s problem. No, he didn’t think the second problem was Haggerty. There was something else, definitely something else. Dowling metasensed around as best he could. Nothing. Nothing preylike, panicked and moving. No enemies stalked him. Transforms near, of course, but Transforms were everywhere these days. Someday he would need to do something about the ratty Crow who lived in the hills above Stone Point, a poor ol’ sneak-Crow who would swoop down, grab dross at night from the winery area, then flee as fast as his little feet would carry him. Since his barony arrived, the ratty Crow hadn’t even needed to get close to the Transforms. Instead, he fed from the Monsters’ patrol stations on the edge of the property. Likely the ratty Crow was afraid of Master Zero, a reasonable fear for a normal Crow. However, Mouse, the Crow who followed Rose around, was rather on the meek and mild end of the Crow personality spectrum. Perhaps he could help. The ratty Crow was there, as usual. Poor thing.

  Strange, though. The barony did have the feel of a senior Noble at home, which couldn’t be right, because he wasn’t home yet. Perhaps Page Green, the former Hunter, finally graduated to Squire. No, that couldn’t be it. Or perhaps Duke Hoskins came by to chat. That could be the issue. Perhaps he came by to clear the way for Arm Haggerty…

  Fred shook his head until his half-beast mane waved free. Perhaps his day had just been too long. The Good Doctor’s new trick had him thinking for days; with a little work he should be able to teach Warden Sharon how to use the superorganism to emulate the part of Focus allowing healing. Would that work, or did the fact they would be borrowing Ellen’s Focus-ness break the ‘it takes two’ requirement?

  Five minutes later, Fred still in thought, they pulled up the winery driveway, past the guards. Fred smiled at the construction underway behind the main house, where some of his commoners and some of Ellen’s household worked on framing out the new living quarters for their combined households. He owed them a few hours of work tonight, and he looked forward to it with gladness in his heart. Nothing seemed amiss, nothing at all – hey!

  Rose’s knives were out before she left the car, and Dowling himself readied to fight. An unknown Chimera, a very impressive Chimera in man form, stood in the doorway of the winery. Ellen appeared behind him, and Fred sensed her worry.

  “Yaah!” Rose said, and charged, full Arm speed, burning. The Chimera batted her away with a swipe faster than Dowling could see, doing something to her with élan on the way by. Fred shook his head. Simply unbelievable. The Arm lay on the ground and didn’t get up. Fred didn’t recognize the élan move or like its taste, and found himself more than a little afraid.

  He had never heard of any Chimera, Noble or Hunter, who could use élan in such a fashion. Or move so quickly. If this was a Hunter, they were in big trouble. The odd Chimera didn’t feel like a Hunter, though. To Fred, creatures under the Law smelled like carrion. This Chimera smelled like pine trees, something new and different.

  “My name is Count Frederick Dowling,” he said. “You’re in my Barony. Could you please explain what’s going on?”

  There was no point in attacking when one was going to lose, no matter what one did. Especially since the Chimera didn’t have an enemy feel. Swatting Arms didn’t make one an enemy, as he had swatted Rose several times, himself.

  “My name is Mizar. Let’s talk. Come sit down beside me, Dowling. This is a wonderful place you have here.”

  ‘…thanks, I’ll take it’, Dowling mentally continued on for this Mizar Chimera. He walked up and sat beside the Chimera in one of the little café-style chairs set up around the tables on the winery patio. He noticed, of all things, that Mizar looked old. Streaks of gray hair ran back from his temples, and his beard was shot through with ample gray hairs as well. Dowling repressed another shiver, feeling like he had somehow stumbled into the deep end of a pool.

  Without a word, Ellen ran by them, out to where Rose lay in the dirt. She helped Rose to a sitting position, and turned to glare at Mizar.

  “Sir, I don’t know what honorific to use for you, if any,” Dowling said. When in doubt, be respectful.

  “Just Mizar, for now.” Mizar smiled, and gave him an appraising look. “Grapes! Wine! Amazing that Transforms can be so mundane and prosperous. And your Focus runs the place like clockwork! Such a fine acquisition. Did she come seek you out, or did you find a way to hunt her down?”

  Say what? “I was part of a barony that came to Chicago to help defend it in early February, and I met Ellen there, and decided to join in a household with her. After the Hunters kidnapped the former Focus who owned the winery, the Director approached Ellen with the idea of taking over the place, and Crow Master Zero and I went along to set up a new barony here and help defend it. Following my dream of the household of the future, we set up a four Major Transform household, along with Rose Webberly, the Arm you so rudely slapped into the dust. She’d already claimed San Francisco as her territory.”

  “Should I have let her knife me? I would think that an Arm with an indirect juice tie to me would be more polite. Or is this, perhaps, typical behavior of the local Arms?”

  “Perhaps,” Dowling said. “Sir, you said ‘juice tie’? May I enquire…”

  “You’re as overly polite as your cute little house Crow, Dowling. I’m here to talk shop, not anything else. There’s no need for you to go snarling and spitting at me like an Arm.”

  This Mizar was strange…and hadn’t answered his question.

  No, Mizar expected him to be able to answer his own question. Dowling lost himself in thought, and then realized what was going on.

  “I take it that you were once named Beast, sir, and that you’re now part of the Commander’s family?”

  “I’d like to think that she and Lori and Sky have joined my family, but in essence, Dowling, you’re correct.”

  Mizar looked up, at Ellen and Rose. “You two, get over here,” Mizar said. The two of them stood and walked over without the slightest hesitation. Damn. The Commander’s goddamned ‘family’ had been bad enough to start with, but now this! Oh, well, back to the minor leagues…

  “You going to behave, Arm Webberly?” Mizar said, quite politely. “Or are you going to fight the subordinated lesser tag I dropped on you? The Com
mander holds you in very high regard, you know. Or did.”

  Arm Webberly dropped to one knee. “I apologize, sir.”

  “That’s better. Now, come drag up a chair or something comfortable. I want you to tell me about all of the fights you’ve been in, and why you persist in holding this appalling piece of real estate north of the Bay Area.”

  “Abandon the winery?”

  “I didn’t suggest it, I just led you to that conclusion,” Mizar said. “As Rose said, the eighty miles that separate you from the Focus conglomeration in the southern Bay Area makes Rose’s job well nigh impossible. The normals who work at this place can run it as a skeleton crew until the emergency is over.”

  Dowling saw that Rose was quite pleased with the idea. She had hinted several times that she would like to see such a move, but the others had politely ignored her.

  “How long do you think it will be before the war is over?” Ellen said.

  “No more than a month. Things are coming to a head, one way or another,” Mizar said, and smiled. “Carol said she was going to leave the organization of the local Transforms up to this, um, quadrature of yours. If you want to pull everyone back in so that they’re on the southern part of the San Francisco peninsula, and no farther south than San Jose, we’ll back you on it.”

  “That’s seven Focuses, not counting the winery, that will have to move,” Rose said, very uncomfortable. “Sir, am I correct in assuming that the Command Quadrature is staying out of the limelight for now?”

  Mizar laughed. “Command Quadrature? Well, that’s certainly better than Sky’s suggestion. He calls us ‘that stinking family’, because we’re all big cheeses. You’re correct. We’re only showing ourselves to a few selected Transforms. We don’t want to tip the Hunters off.”

  “What’s your opinion of the Hunters, sir?” Ellen asked.

  “Worse than you suspect and better than you can hope,” Mizar said. He patted her on her shoulder, quite gently, and winked at Dowling. “The Hunters are an abomination, enslaved to the juice, the antithesis of everything a true Transform society would have to offer. Their sorry illusion of a civilization must be eradicated.” Auroras figuratively danced around his head.