by Ryan McCall
Zuri nodded, accepting her commander’s advice and went to take her place at the tables while Arnette addressed them and outlined the battle plans.
The deputy-chief stood in the center of the room, the tables in a circle around her. “All of you are experienced mages,” said Arnette. “But let me assure you that no matter what you may think, none of you have taken part in a battle like this before. Even I have no idea what the Pale Brothers are capable of, we must be careful. Examine the maps and you will find your assigned positions.”
They all took a glance at the maps in front of them. Zuri could see that her initial position was with the main reserve group commanded by Arnette. She wouldn’t be there long if she was to take to the air.
“You need to have the entire layout memorized so you can accurately aim your spells, whether they be defensive or offensive. All of you are well-trained and talented, but trusting in your fellow Scepters will get us through this.” The Scepter commanders all took a moment to look around at each other, taking stock of the comrades.
Before Arnette could say anything else, there was a loud sound of ringing bells. Arnette turned towards the balcony and looked out. Zuri followed her gaze. At the top of the city walls, the signal fires were lit and she could make out the soldiers on the top, running about and getting into position. Her wings fluttered in nervousness. The armies of Galria were outside the city walls.
Chapter 64
The sound of his armaments factory running at full capacity was music to Luthais’ ears. His entire work force capacity was present and along with the machinery could produce up to three hundred cannon balls per day. Tegan’s lobbying and pushing for the Alkos Imperial Army to purchase Typhon cannons several years ago was finally paying off.
His manager’s office was situated on the fourth floor, well above the steam, smoke and heat generated by the plant. Standing at the large wall-sized window gave him a fish-bowl view of the factory layout; from the incoming raw materials and smelting operations to the finished shells being loaded with powder and packed into tight holding crates.
Tara Gordon, the manager of the plant sat at the large oak desk that dominated the office. Luthais turned away from the plant to address her. “Excellent work Tara. You have everything running smoothly.”
“Thank you Mr. Mordain,” she replied. She was dressed in a conservative black dress, a white blouse and a dark green jacket with patches of dirt in places. Tara was a manager that liked to get right into the plant to inspect production for herself, so she dressed in clothes that she didn’t mind getting dirty. Her light brown hair was tied back from her face and she wore a set of thick glasses with yellow frames. They dominated her face and contrasted with the large metal earrings she wore. Tara didn’t have much of a sense for style, not that he cared. She was brilliant as a manager and that was all he needed her to be.
When he had first taken over the armaments division five years ago, the plant had been run by a craggy old northman named Gray. The plant was inefficient and half of the equipment was rusting. It had barely been able to keep up with the demand from the armed forces operating in Naikos.
Luthais had attended several public lectures of Tara’s during his time at the University of Alkos. She was a part-time professor in finance, while simultaneously working a job running a bakery operation in the Industrial district. She had innovative ideas about management and operations that the university elite had frowned upon. It had seen her relegated to the bottom of the pile for research grants and promotions.
Luthais had liked her ideas. He had taken one look at the wreck of the plant and after firing the idiotic Gray, offered her the position of manager. She had enthusiastically accepted. Her bakery business was successful, but not lucrative enough to keep her living beyond a tiny apartment. Between that and her academic role she had been mentally exhausted.
In less than six months after taking the position, she turned the entire plant around. With excellent organizational skills, new equipment, checklists and a far more stream-lined production, she had been able to match and then overtake the demand.
Not to mention that she had let go of twenty percent of the workforce, which had been able to save him on labor costs and she had implemented new safety policies that had reduced injuries and accidents by sixty percent. And now she had the plant up to capacity with the demands of a full-scale war.
“I don’t know how you do it Tara. I’m damn glad to have you here,” he said.
“It’s what I do,” she replied. “I’ve been ready for this day since you appointed me. I’m hoping we can expand even further. Every day I’m getting calls from the ministries of industry and war to check that I’ll be able to give them what they need.”
“How much more can we expand?” he asked.
She chewed her lip while she thought. They were cracked slightly. The air in the factory would do that if you spent long enough in here. “I think if we hire another hundred more workers; over the next few weeks we could double our output. That would allow us to go to twenty-four operation using rotating shifts. The equipment will be working overtime, but as long as we keep up with the cool down and quality checks it should be able to handle it.”
Luthais grinned. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. Tegan would be pleased, he was going to prove his value to her. Something he desperately needed to do. She had not been pleased to hear about his recent dalliances with a certain CEO. She hadn’t ordered him to stop, but it was clear she would make life difficult for him if he refused.
He could care less. Alyssa Huntington was an attractive woman, even with their age difference, and the sex with her had been delightfully energetic, but he had never thought of it as anything more. Half of the thrill for him had been the fact that she was married and he was getting away with fucking her behind her husband’s back.
There were plenty more fish in the ocean though, so he would stop seeing her, if only to calm Tegan down. She was under a lot of pressure since father had died and Luthais did not want to add to that. Not to mention he had to make up for that assassination business. It had worked out in the company’s favor, but his sister was still angry.
“I thought you’d be pleased to hear that,” said Tara. “With production like that we should keep Typhon cannons as the main artillery piece for the imperial army. We have stiff competition, with that new mechanized gun from Huntington.”
Luthais waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s impressive to see in operation I’ll say that much. But it hasn’t been tested in the real world by actual soldiers yet. For all we know, the barrel could overheat or jam after firing off a few hundred rounds. The artillery units have trained with our cannons and are familiar with them. People stick to what they know.”
Tara took a sip of coffee from the steaming mug sitting in her desk. “If you say so. You would know better than me, sir.” He noticed a hint of a snide smile on the corners of her mouth.
He scowled, tapping his hand against the smooth glass behind him. He wasn’t aware that knowledge of his affair with Alyssa had been so widespread. It was definitely for the best to put an end to it. Tara would never say anything, regardless of what she had heard. She was loyal to him, she had proven that many times over.
He turned back to look over the plant again. He bumped his forehead against the warm glass and he noticed something odd. There was a woman where she should not be; where no worker should be. She was tightly positioned between two sets of powder grinders and bent over. She was busy doing something with her hands on the ground.
“Tara, should that worker be there?” he asked his manager and pointed down, his finger pressed to the glass.
“Hmm?” Tara looked over at his questioning glare. She stood up and walked around her desk to see.
As she looked down, he asked “Isn’t that against safety policy to be between the powder grinders while the plant is running?”
“Yes, you’re right,” replied Tara, confirming his suspicions. “She shouldn’t be i
n there at all. Even if something had gone wrong, there’s no equipment or controls between those parts of the plant. What in the hells is she doing there?” She sounded as annoyed as he was now. He was glad he still remembered how the plant operated. He had worked there briefly during his twenties, and he liked to think he could still remember exactly how everything worked.
Tara threw the folder in her hands onto her desk and marched out of the room. Luthais hoped she would give the worker a piece of her mind. It was no good for employees to start wandering anywhere they felt, especially if they ended up intruding on the production or Creator forbid, damage the equipment.
Luthais kept watching. The woman stood up and slowly crept out from between the grinders. She furtively glanced from side to side, as if to check that no one had seen her, before stepping onto the main part of the floor that ran along the grinders and towards the ball filling zone.
It wouldn’t help her, both the factory manager and the division head had seen her. He was glad he had decided to install the window here. The fact that she was being so cautious and trying not to be seen suggested that she was doing something she should not have. If she had been a new employee who had simply become turned around, Luthais would have been content to let her away with a warning, but it looked as if she had a more sinister motive.
He saw Tara walk up to the woman and start yelling at her. He couldn’t hear anything, but he could tell from Tara’s gestures that she was angry. The other woman was trying to defend herself, giving off a vague half-baked excuse.
He took another glance over to where she had been. The area she had been bent over was an empty spot of floor between the grinders. He could see a black rectangular edge sticking out from below one of them. It did not like any piece of equipment he recognized.
What if the woman was corporate saboteur? Typhon had no shortage of competition and the other armaments companies would not hesitate to try something like this.
Tara was getting nowhere. She was still arguing with the woman on the factory floor. This was insane, the woman had been up to something sinister, he was certain. He stormed out of the room, the humid heat of the plant air sticking to his skin. He made his way down the stairs and could faintly hear Tara and the woman arguing.
“You cannot go anywhere you feel like,” said Tara. “We have health and safety protocols that protect the plant and everyone working here. If one person decides to break them, they could endanger themselves or others.”
“Look, how many times do I have to apologize. I was only-”
“I’ll handle this now Tara,” Luthais said as he came up behind his manager, stopping the woman from finishing her excuse.
He stared at her, anger on his face. She looked like a typical factory worker, messy, brown hair, a sooty face and soiled, grey, work clothes. But looks could be deceiving.
“Tell us right now what exactly it was you put under the powder grinders and I promise that the only charges you’ll face will be financial rather than criminal,” ordered Luthais.
“What?” asked Tara.
“She’s a fucking spy and she put something under the equipment. Tell us now, or you’ll be sorry you ever heard the name Luthais Mordain,” he warned her.
The woman’s demeanor changed. She was not pretending to be a know-nothing worker anymore. Her eyes darted between the two of them and she licked her lips nervously. He had her now and she knew it. She was trying to think how she could offer to sell out to his side. Corporate espionage stooges often did that when caught.
She gave them both a hardened look and screamed, “For the revolution!” at the top of her lungs. Fire and light exploded from the plant. Luthais senses were overloaded with white light and deafening noise for a few seconds. Then he felt something heavy hit him, knocking him to the ground, before everything went black.
Chapter 65
The first Victor knew of the bombing was when one of his members, Oliver, came running into his meeting with Eileen MacCuinn. Eileen was the leader of the Women’s Rights Alliance, a feminist socialist group that had many connections to his own. He had set up the meeting to convince her to lend him support in his campaign.
The door burst open, a panting Oliver entering. The boy’s face was drenched in sweat, his black hair sticking to his forehead. Victor was annoyed at the intrusion, but Oliver wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important. Eileen turned her head as well, her short-cut dark hair bouncing past her shoulders as she did.
“Victor, there’s been an explosion at the Typhon armaments factory,” said Oliver. The boy then put his hands on his knees and bent his head over, taking in deep breaths.
“I’m sorry Eileen,” said Victor and he stood up. “This sounds important.”
“Of course,” she replied. She didn’t bother turning her head when she spoke to him. There would have been little point. Eileen was blind in both eyes. It was the result of an industrial accident and he hadn’t deemed it necessary to probe her about it. She kept a thin strip of white fabric around her head that served to cover them.
He had assumed whatever it was, had left her eyes in an unsightly condition and asking her about it would only be hitting a nerve. It was not how he wanted to start off the relationship he hoped to build with her and her organization.
He walked over to Oliver and pulled him up gently. The boy had recovered from his exertion and Victor looked at him directly in the eyes. “You wore yourself out to tell me that? Why?” he asked.
“Word going around the city is that is the LRC that did it,” the boy replied. He wiped the sweat from his face onto his dirty sleeves.
Robert, was Victor’s first thought. What has he done?
“Word from who?” he snapped. He needed to know exactly what had happened.
Oliver thought for a moment. “People in the street, the city watch. I came here as fast as I could when I overheard two street vendors down at the waterfront talking about it.” He didn’t get a chance to ask the boy anything else.
“The Blackwatch!” came a loud shout from downstairs.
Victor heard a few startled cries and the stomps of feet coming up the stairs. He pulled Oliver back from the door and pushed him to the other side of the room. “Eileen, stay in your seat, don’t say anything,” he said and moved to the door.
Several Imperial Branch uniformed officers marched into the room. They were followed by a man in an expensive looking black and white suit. The man had a face like cold, hard stone. He focused his blue eyes on Victor.
“Victor Shepard?” he asked in a smooth voice. “I’m Inspector John Graves. I need to have ask you some questions.” His tone indicated he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“I’m right here,” replied Victor.
“It would be for the best if you accompanied me to the station,” said the inspector. He looked around the room, but did not care about Eileen or Oliver as he quickly focused back on Victor. “I’m sure a good citizen such as yourself, would be willing to answer my queries.”
Victor crossed his arms. He was a foot taller than the man and could have easily thrown him out if wanted to. He did not trust the Blackwatch in the slightest. They had a reputation for targeting political groups and persecuting them. But he did not want to give them an excuse to charge him or take anyone else into custody.
“Fair enough” he said. “But, I’d like to have a couple of my members come along with me. To be on the safe side.”
The inspector raised an eyebrow. “You’re worried about something?”
“Imperial Branch is known for forcing confessions and planting evidence on political targets.”
John shook his head. “Those days are long over Mr. Shepard. My only interest in your political games is when they become violent as they did last night. Bring whoever you like.”
Later at the Imperial Branch Station, Victor sat in a darkened interrogation room. It was coated in jet black paint and a bright light bulb shone above. He sat opposite to John.
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��Look, I warned Robert that going extreme wasn’t the answer,” said Victor. “He wouldn’t listen to me.”
John leaned forward. “And why is that? The two of you were friends for a long time. Hells, you practically built the LRC together.”
“Until someone tore it apart,” said Victor, his voice full of bitterness. “One of your bosses who we’d pissed off too much decided to take matters into their own hands. And it didn’t help that the watch wasn’t in a rush to solve the crime.”
“One of my bosses?” asked John in mock confusion. “I hope you’re not suggesting the watch had something to do with those murders.”
Victor laughed. ‘You don’t get it do you? Of course I don’t mean the watch directly. In the end though, your bosses answer to the government and who do they answer to?”
“The emperor and the chief minister,” replied John, in a matter of fact manner.
“Please,” said Victor. “They answer to the money, inspector. The ones who give them millions of crowns every year to look the other way, to move people and businesses around, to pass laws that exploit people. When you go high enough, they’re your true bosses.”
“So that justifies blowing up factories and killing innocent people?” asked John.
“Of course not,” replied Victor. “I had nothing to do with that and neither does anyone else I associate with. I advocate a non-violent approach to solving our problems. Robert and I are done with each other. I don’t know where he is, what he’s planning or when he’s planning it.”
The inspector nodded. “Fine. You can go. Be sure to get in touch with us if you do hear anything about him or his people. It’s no good for anyone to have factories being attacked right now.”
Upon returning back to the building, Victor assured all of his senior members that he was fine. “The Blackwatch are nasty pieces of work, but if Robert is behind this bombing, then I can understand why they’re going after him,” he said.