by Garon Whited
I really do need to ask Diogenes how he does it. What are the limits of my detectability? If I do get spotted by a sentry, what sorts of detection problems is the attack helicopter going to have? Can I keep running without becoming a missile target? Or should I hold very still and hope it doesn’t notice me? It’s more than an academic interest!
I sprinted away from the ongoing psychomagical bombardment. Next, get transport, get into town, and figure out what to do.
Once I made it a couple of miles and found a road, I followed it. At a roadside charging station, hopped in the first Google Cab I came to, and it took me down I-70 into Effingham. It didn’t have any trouble noticing my weight on the seat or hearing my voice, oddly enough. Maybe it’s a radar thing? I’ll have to experiment with it, I guess.
I switched vehicles—parking one, walking for a while, and finally getting another one once separated by time and distance. It helped that I still had my credsticks. I switched sticks to pay for the new cab and it took me on to Saint Louis. Once in Saint Louis, I found a thrift store—closed, but I’m not a total novice at breaking and entering—a public washroom, and dinner, in that order.
With my sword wrapped in a sleeping bag and tied it into a backpack, I’m just another hitchhiker.
Now, how to get from Saint Louis to various points inside a military-restricted zone? Without using magic, of course. Helicopter? Swing wide out over the ocean and hope nobody shoots it down? Get a plane to fly over the area and bail out with a cargo parachute? Load up a motorcycle with a couple of extra gas cans and go in on the ground? Maybe drop the motorcycle and myself on one target point and drive to the other?
Tough choices. Mary would almost certainly have a better idea. I called her on my skinphone.
“Hi, honey!” I greeted her. “It’s your demon lover.”
“You! I’m fiendishly glad to hear from you. How was your trip to Hell?”
“Painful.”
“Same here. My eyes weren’t bleeding, but they felt like they might. Did you have to make it so intense?”
“Probably not, but better safe than sorry.”
“I suppose.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to meet to discuss this further. Are you still up north?” I asked.
“Yes. It was a quick in and out. Time constraints, you know.”
“I know, and I feel time constraining me, too. I’m more southwest.”
“Would you like to visit Milwaukee?”
“Never been there.”
“You’ll love it. Lots of suburbs and rural areas within a short ride of a major urban center. Meet me at Heartbreak Ridge Paintball.”
“Got it. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Understood. Kisses.”
We signed off and I called another cab. Technically, Heartbreak Ridge Paintball was in Caledonia, not Milwaukee; Google is fussy about little details like that.
Monday, February 22nd
Aside from a trip to the store for makeup and food, I spent most of the day in a motel, minding my own business, microwaving sandwiches, and watching video. I didn’t feel like showing my face during the day. There was probably no one actively looking for me, but why add anything to my level of risk? I doubt the local vampires are interested in what I’m doing. They just want me even more dead. For all I know, some magi families are also interested in speaking to me in a manner similar to the Mendozas.
At least the news was interesting. People were weighing in on the fall of the domes and What It All Meant. Natural phenomenon? Solar flares? Aliens? I didn’t hear one theory that didn’t have a jumbo-sized hole in it, but I had to respect the imagination involved. As usual, the people in charge were saying they didn’t know what was going on and didn’t have a plan. Naturally, they said it in such a way as to hope you didn’t notice.
Maybe this is part of the reason I despise being a king. I don’t want to be lumped in with a bunch of mealy-mouthed weasels. Then again, as a king I can give orders, make things happen, carry out plans, and not have to answer to a bunch of mealy-mouthed weasels who scream about their constituents.
The trouble with a democracy is it presumes everyone who votes is qualified to make decisions on behalf of the nation. The trouble with a monarchy is it presumes the monarch is qualified to make decisions on behalf of the nation. While it’s unlikely the monarch really is qualified, it’s possible. Making every citizen in the nation qualified to run the place, on the other hand…
I’m starting to think humans aren’t too good at the getting-along-in-large-groups thing.
I went to the paintball course after sundown. They were open year-round, come rain, snow, sleet, or sun, twenty-four hours a day, every day. They held team events for the truly gung-ho and ran indoor obstacle and target courses for the less militant. I did okay, but I’m only so-so with guns. I can alert someone to the fact he’s being shot at pretty much every time. Hitting him? Well… sometimes. Where I excelled was reaction time. I don’t think I can actually dodge a bullet, but paintballs are much slower. If I see it coming, I usually avoid it. Other than that, I kept my tendrils to myself and pretended my goggles were night vision equipment.
Getting hit by a paintball isn’t as painful as a bullet. I know this because a half-dozen of them walked along my spine in a single burst.
Grumbling, I turned around. Mary grinned at me from behind her goggles. Figures.
“Am I dead?” I asked.
“I’d say so.”
“Shucks.”
“Best two out of three?”
“I’m more concerned about getting two out of four.”
“Oh, those. Then we should definitely go.”
After a quick trip through the locker rooms and a brief cab ride, Mary invited me into her car. It was an older hybrid, a gas-burner and electric. She kept it on manual, revved it, and whipped it into traffic like gears meshing together.
“Now that we’re unlikely to be traced, tracked, or followed, how did it go?”
“I killed Johann.” I left it at that. I wasn’t ready to discuss it.
“Anyone else?”
“One of the other men. I don’t know which. I didn’t stop to chat, either.”
“I got a man, as well, up in New York.”
“That leaves Juliet, unless they’ve been monkeying around with transforming themselves. Any sign of my ball?”
“No.”
“That thing is going to be trouble,” I muttered. “I know it.”
“So we finish with Juliet, shut down your magic-crushing spells, and find your Evil Orb. One thing at a time.”
“I’m all for it,” I agreed, as she swung off the highway and into a run-down looking suburb. She shot me a dazzling smile. “You’re in a good mood,” I noted.
“Yes. I’ve done my part and I’m being included in your plans, you secretive jerk.”
“I apologized for that already.”
“And you still owe me a bank job.”
“Holdup or vault?”
“I haven’t decided, yet.”
“Let me know. But we’re not doing it here. I don’t think I want to live in this world.”
“Seems fair. It is a bit on the screwed-up side. But we can’t leave while your orb is here, right?”
“Not for good,” I agreed.
“Good thing I found us a place to stay, then.”
“Yes. Is that where we’re going?”
“Not exactly.”
We took some secondary roads, weaving our way around, before we reached a chain-link gate. Mary rolled down the window and punched numbers on the keypad. A chain drive rolled the gate aside. We rolled in and it closed behind us automatically.
“Back door,” she said.
“To what?”
“An airport.”
“Aha! I was wondering how we were going to get to Juliet.”
“Aha! Now it’s we?”
“Of course it’s we. Johann was my unique problem. Ev
eryone else I’ll share.”
“I guess I can understand that. It works both ways, right?”
“If you’ve got someone you need to kill personally, I’ll happily gut his guards.”
“See, that’s one reason I love you. You get me.”
The airport wasn’t large, having only six hangars and a number of small, private planes. Mary pulled us into the open hangar and climbed out. I followed her. An elderly gentleman shuffled over toward us. He wore an old-fashioned bomber jacket and had an impressive scar. It ran down his forehead, through one eyebrow, leaped his eye and landed on his cheek before running off his jawline. It looked old, but, given the gentleman’s age, not as old as one might expect.
“Miss LeBlanc,” he said, greeting Mary. Mary smiled at him and allowed him to kiss her hand. “I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to your gentleman friend?”
“Mister Black,” she said, indicating me. “Mister Black, this is our pilot, Martin.”
“A pleasure.”
“Likewise.”
“You indicated you were in something of a hurry?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” Mary agreed. “Are we ready to go?”
“I am. Baby is. Are you?”
Mary glanced at me. I made no objection. This was her show.
The plane he called “Baby” was a small thing, barely a four-seater. It reminded me of a jet-powered Cessna, but the angular styling put me in mind of a stealth fighter. Inside, Mary took a forward seat, next to Martin. I sat behind Martin so I could see Mary. The interior of the plane was rather sparse and utilitarian, like a cargo craft rather than a personal jet. I could see the ribs, or whatever they’re called, in between some sort of high-density foam or fiberglass.
As the jets cycled up, Mary turned to me.
“There are parachutes behind you. Get one for me, would you? And one for yourself, if you think it’ll do any good.”
“Ha. Ha.” I moved behind my seat and found the parachutes.
“Uh-oh,” Martin said, and started shutting everything down.
“What is it?” Mary asked.
“Advisory channel. Switch over.” She did so and I moved forward.
“What is it?”
“The FAA is repeating a military bulletin,” Martin said. “The Air Force and Navy are engaged in activities against hostile forces present on United States soil. All aircraft are warned away from the combat zones.”
“Where are these combat zones?”
Martin tapped on his navigation display for a moment and four points popped up. They seemed familiar. Nexus points I opened, of course. The centers of the circular domes.
“Any chance we can get there?” Mary asked, touching the point in Virginia. It was the only one we hadn’t killed a magi on.
“Forget it,” Martin advised. “This is a blockade runner, not a combat aircraft. You want to sneak across a border? We can do that. Flying into combat? No way. They’ll have everything under God’s heaven looking into those areas. Baby is stealthy, not invisible.”
“So much for my plan,” Mary grumped, taking off her headset. “Any thoughts, Mister Black?”
“Aside from profanity?”
“I’ll settle for profanity. I have to. It’s all I’ve got.”
“Is the news covering this?” I asked. “Can we get a look at what’s actually going on? If the military is doing a decent job, we may not need to go there after all. At least, not until after they’re done.”
“Not in Baby,” Martin said. “Let’s see what’s on video in the office.”
Martin finished shutting down the aircraft while Mary opened the door. We trooped to the hangar office and Martin fired up an old-fashioned flat-screen television. A little hunting around gave us the live reports.
Drone aircraft were now able to penetrate the area without losing contact. Reconnaissance craft located the center of each dome’s effect, presumably the emitters for the “force fields” that had cut off so much of the country. Drone strikes on these locations proved the force fields were, in fact, no longer protecting their central generators. Cruise missiles and artillery bombardment finished the job. “This brief engagement with the sources of these domes has been brought to a swift and decisive close!” said General Somebody.
If the news was to be believed, I could have simply dropped the domes and waited. All four nexuses would be bombed, shelled, and obliterated, along with Johann, Juliet, and their two relatives.
On the other hand, I’m still glad I went in. If I’d waited, I wouldn’t have gotten to kill Johann with my bare hands.
Still, the fact it was done was a relief. I did feel the slightest bit cheated, though. It was one thing to have Mary helping me, quite another to watch the new report of a missile strike. I decided I could live with it, albeit grumpily. At least there would be no more Fries trying to kill me. Oh, there might be a member of the family still around, somewhere, but I doubted it. I already killed a bunch of them by accident, and these four by design. If I could close down the nexus bombardment, I could start closing nexuses—or, at the very least, cap them off.
I wonder if the Etiennes would like to be custodians? True, members of their family, in youthful exuberance, did break into my house, but they apologized profusely and sincerely. As long as they didn’t let someone step into the nexus and turn into a power-mad demigod, it ought to be all right. I’ll have to consider it after I get the things sealed over.
“So much for that,” Mary said. “What now?”
“Depends on where the yacht went.”
“Walt was supposed to take it to Daytona Beach after you took off. He should be there by now.”
“Martin?”
“Yes, Mister Black?”
“Would it be unreasonable to fly us down to Daytona Beach?”
“Miss LeBlanc already paid for a trip,” he told me. “We’ll have to take something besides my Baby. I don’t take her out during the day. If you’re in a hurry, how about the Wingéd Victory?”
“It beats a cab.”
I was wrong. I would rather have taken a cab. I would rather have walked.
The Wingéd Victory was a jet-propelled box with wings. It was noisy, almost unheated, and I’m dead sure it wasn’t FAA approved. I spent a good part of the trip watching a rivet slowly spin in place from the vibration. We all wore headsets for ear protection and conversation, but the sound of the air outside seemed awfully loud to me. I wanted to rip my way out of the thing and enjoy the peace and quiet of plummeting to the ground before we even made it to cruising altitude.
Mary saw my distress and piped some string quartet music through my headset. It helped. A little. I could have stepped inside and spent the trip in my headspace, but I didn’t want to risk having another conversation with my better-than-thou conscience.
The only good thing about it was the speed. The trip was a little under a thousand miles, not counting course changes for weather and other air traffic. From wheels-up to touchdown was slightly over an hour.
I climbed out of the thing and reflected on the merits of travel by wagon train. Can I find a universe where the most advanced form of vehicle is the horse and buggy? It may not be fast, but I think I like it more than a supersonic rattletrap.
I said nothing of this to Martin. Instead, I thanked him for the speed of the trip and assured him I would never forget it. He took it as a compliment.
Mary hailed us a cab and I sank into the plush, padded seat with a sigh of contentment. It was night, so nothing hurt, but the contrast was well worth a sigh. We took a short ride in the cab while Mary used it to call ahead to the Princess for the launch.
“Now,” she said, once the call ended, “are we going somewhere immediately? Say, driving the Princess through an interdimensional gateway into the oceans of Karvalen?”
“No, of course not. That would be… hmm. If we take down the mast and the fake smokestack, we can probably get away with a forty-foot circle. The ship does fourteen miles per hour—”
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“Sixteen, if we’re using the hydrojet with the paddlewheels.”
“Sixteen, then. That’s a little over twenty-three feet per second. Let’s say the Princess is two hundred feet long, for safety. That means the gate has to be open a minimum of ten seconds from one world to another.” I did a juggling act in my head, comparing other gates and how long they were open.
“No. No, we’re not going to bring the Princess with us.”
“What if we’re on top of a nexus?”
“Yes, we could do it, but we’d be leaving behind an open nexus. I’m not doing it.”
“So, you want to close them all again?”
“Yes. I’m not sure exactly how, yet, but at the very least I can put a magical seal on them and power it from the nexus it seals. From what I’ve seen of the way a nexus behaves when opened, I think there’s a good chance it can re-seal itself over time if it doesn’t keep pouring power out.”
“Am I to assume you don’t want a bunch of magi owning the world and mismanaging it?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ve seen you try to be a good king. I’m not sure you know how to be a terrible ruler.”
“Bite your tongue, woman.”
“I’d rather bite yours. But do we have time, maybe, to do some shopping before we go anywhere?”
“I suppose. Yes, I’m sure we do. The military will be crawling all over the land-based nexus sites for weeks, possibly months, once I stop the anti-magical bombing. I can’t seal a nexus with that going on. Maybe I can use one nexus to cast a repulsion or revulsion spell to drive off everyone near another one…”
“Ahem.”
“Hmm?”
“Shopping?”
“Yes, dear.”
Most of the shopping was for me, oddly enough. We both bought new skinphones, of course; it doesn’t do to have disposable phones if you don’t dispose of them every so often. Then there was the good makeup, as well as a carrying case for my sword, as well as a variety of miscellaneous stuff.
We were aboard the Princess and steaming toward the Bahamas before dawn. The major nexus there would be the first I shut down. I visited Bronze, recovered my cloak—it was a horse-blanket while Bronze wore it; it turned into a jacket when I took it down—and I settled down with Mary in our suite. I told her about my plans to close the nexus points.