Shadowrun: Burning Bright

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Shadowrun: Burning Bright Page 26

by Tom Dowd


  "You're right, but a nuclear blast, despite the way it's achieved, is one of the most primal effects you can get. If they're immune to that, we'd be better off at ground zero ourselves."

  She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so." She looked around the space quickly and then back at Kyle. "You sure this is a good idea? One or two of the little bastards is bad enough, but close to a dozen . . ."

  He laughed. "Why do I suspect you'll never have chil­dren?"

  Ravenheart mocked a flinch. "Ugh. Fraggin' right. I just don't have the tolerance for them."

  “Then let me do all the talking. You just echo it to your brood.”

  "Deal," she said. "I'll guard you first."

  Kyle nodded and took a few steps away from her, turning as he did. With that slow spin, he shifted his senses into as­tral space. It was warm and cool at the same time, and he felt the careful radiance that flowed from Anne Ravenheart's aura as well as his own. The rest of the loft space was peace­ful and quiet. That would soon change.

  He reached out a hand, and focusing his power, swept it through the ambient energy of astral space. It scooped into his palm and condensed as he swept it again, building more energy into his cupped hand. The energy of astral space pulled together. It was the energy given off by all living things, the power of the planet's biosphere, and as he com­pressed it, formed it, shaped it, it began to take on a life of its own.

  He wouldn't need it long, just an hour or two, so he al­lowed it to form some degree of loose structure. Its weave didn't need to be tight enough to last for any real length of time. He folded the energy in on itself as a piece of astral origami sculpture. Then, barely a few heartbeats after he'd begun, the molded energy gained and retained its own form (not unlike yogurt floating weightless in space). A pair of impossibly big eyes opened in the form and blinked at him. Then it grinned, big wide, ragged, and dumb.

  "Hoi," it said, almost shyly. "Are you gonna play with me?"

  Behind him, Anne Ravenheart groaned. Kyle had created a watcher spirit—incredibly fast in both astral space and in the physical world, with the fighting spirit of a pit bull, and the brains to match. It was one of nearly a dozen he and Ravenheart would create before they attacked the nest.

  * * * *

  "The plan," Ravenheart told the group who'd be participating in the raid to capture the buses, "is straightforward, and not without its risks."

  The Knight Errant troopers were all garbed in assembled pieces of hard combat armor and softer body armor. All carried helmets equipped with some sort of vision-enhancing system and a tactical communication system strong enough to punch through the UCAS government jamming for a short distance at least. And they were all armed, most with Ares Alpha combat guns, a few with the newer HVAR high-velocity assault rifles, and two with Mossberg SM-CMDT combat shotguns equipped with under-barrel mini-grenade launchers.

  They all also carried—trained to use it or not— the biggest knife, combat, survival, or kitchen, they could find. Kyle had suggested it, and Ravenheart quickly ordered it, both knowing that if an insect spirit got in close enough to the trooper to strike with its claws or mandibles, assault weapons would be of little use. Even in untrained hands, a physical, direct attack with a knife, or even an unarmed one, carried more emotional, mystical power than a firearm did. A firearm, though, tore into the bugs before they got too close. An undeniable advantage.

  With them sat a dour Seeks-the-Moon who stared off un­blinking in the direction of the power plant. Whatever magic was working in the power plant was affecting him, though he refused to admit if. Near him, and possibly a contributor to his mood, was what one of the Knight Errant troopers had dubbed "the crib"—a low-power mana barrier that kept the ten watcher spirits Kyle and Ravenheart had summoned con­tained and hopefully protected from the unknown capabili­ties of the insect spirits' senses. Inside the hemisphere of dull blue energy, the ten globs of protoplasm chased each other gleefully, more than occasionally plastering themselves flat against the barrier, only to rebound in the other direction with even more force. At Seeks-the-Moon's request, Kyle had placed a silence spell over the area to cut off the ca­cophony of squeals.

  "Our main goal," continued Ravenheart, "is to get those buses, with the people inside them, out of that plant. There's enough room to turn them around, and even if the gates are closed, as I expect them to be, the first bus will be able to get up enough speed to tear through it.

  "Six of you will actually participate in the assault. Three of you, Douglas, Quess, and Keith, will drive the buses, tagged alpha, beta, and delta, respectively, from first in line to last." Once the consensus had been reached that Ravenheart and her team would back Kyle in his attempt to rescue the bus passengers, it was quickly agreed that his best use, as a mage, would be to accompany and provide magical support for the assault. Kyle had readily agreed; he really didn't know how to drive anything bigger than a commuter car.

  "We're going to come in from the south, through the boat yard that abuts it off the river." She recapped for them. "There's nothing special about the fence, just aluminum alloy; Vathoss and Douglas will use the acid strips on them. No sparks, little noise.

  "By that time, I suspect," she said, "we'll have trouble."

  "Excuse the interruption," Seeks-the-Moon said unexpectedly, "but I am suddenly afraid I know what they're doing." He stood up from the crate on which he'd been sitting.

  "What?" Kyle asked.

  Seeks-the-Moon started walking toward one of the room's few exits. They'd gathered and commenced the briefing in a small extension to the rear of the building that sat across from the power plant. It was old and derelict, probably abandoned years before, but it served. Kyle and Ravenheart followed as Moon said, "We must look."

  "Vathoss!" Ravenheart gestured at the sergeant. "Begin a weapons check, and let Conner know to prep the drone." Vathoss nodded as his only reply.

  The spirit led the two mages on a fairly involved path through the building they'd mapped out earlier. Squatters, at some point in the building's history, had punched holes in the walls connecting originally isolated sections. They climbed to the fourth floor, second from the top, via a rusty ladder in an elevator shaft. Reaching the warehouse space there, they crept forward, keeping to the inner wall. Half­way, Seeks-the-Moon held up his hand and the other two stopped.

  "We can see from here," he said.

  Kyle could clearly see the power plant's enormous, dor­mant tower and the top of what he took to be the generator building. Much of it, however, was dark and barely high­lighted by the silver of moon in the sky.

  "Do you see it?" the spirit asked quietly.

  Kyle couldn't see anything with his eyes, and a quick glance at Ravenheart confirmed that she didn't either. Shift­ing his senses into astral space, he immediately gasped.

  The power plant grounds, including all of the main facility and most of the outlying ones, were covered in a slowly building dome of green energy. The forming power drifted down over the gradually defining sides like fingers of smoke, pale and nauseating. The energy flowed from the center of the building, from deep in its bowels, Kyle felt, as it fed the burgeoning ward.

  "What the . . . ?” whispered Ravenheart.

  "Do not look too long," Seeks-the-Moon said even more softly. "We don't wish to be noticed."

  Kyle looked at the growing lattice of power one last time before he let his senses return exclusively to the physical world. "How long have we got?" he asked Seeks-the-Moon.

  The free spirit shrugged. "Less than an hour, maybe min­utes. I do not know the strength of the magic."

  "Are they erecting a ward?" Ravenheart asked, almost stunned.

  Kyle nodded. "A fraggin' powerful one—based on the waves coming off it. The bastards have to be using a ritual; that thing's too powerful for one magician to cast."

  "Even for a queen of the insect spirits?" Seeks-me-Moon asked.

  "I don't know, but I fraggin' well hope not," Kyle said. "The point is, thou
gh, that it's almost done. The ward is forming—that's the Sending we're seeing—and it's directed against the casting place itself. It'll come together in no time."

  "What do we do?" Ravenheart asked, her gaze snapping back and forth between both Kyle and the spirit

  "Ready or not," Kyle replied, "we attack now."

  32

  The light-amplification system in the goggles Kyle held over his eyes lit up the grounds of the power plant like daylight. The others hidden with him in the shadows near the boatyard were using low-light and thermographic systems integrated into their own helmets.

  Kyle, being a mage, couldn't cast magic through those systems since they translated what few photons of light they gathered and amplified into an­other form, that of a viewable electronic display. The gog­gles impeded him too, as he needed a direct, untranslated view of any potential target, but those he could flip up or toss aside if needed.

  Right now, Kyle could see the three buses, none of which had moved, and the four guards standing casually around them.

  "I have two more, plus your four, to make six," came Ravenheart's slightly garbled voice over his helmet headset. He keyed the response pad built into his left glove twice to signal a positive response. Ravenheart and all the troopers except those commanding the drone were positioned in the five-story building from which she, Kyle, and Seeks-the-Moon had observed the coalescing magical ward some min­utes before. The location was closer than they'd have liked, but time was against them and the placement at least gave a clear view of the grounds.

  Kyle nodded to Vathoss, and the sergeant, barely visible though only a few steps away, nodded in reply. A quick series of clicks came in through his headset, the coded com­munication used by the Knight Errant troopers. There'd been no time for Kyle to learn the code, but he knew from the timing of the message that Vathoss was signaling Ravenheart to begin the second phase of the operation. The first phase had brought them within striking distance of the building, and now it was time for the fireworks to begin.

  Somewhere, maybe high overhead, maybe a few blocks away, the fateful drone circled nearly silently, waiting for either a cue from Conner on the ground or the programming in its computer brain to tell it to begin its descent.

  Ravenheart responded by click-code instead of voice, two chirps. Two seconds later came the blast. It happened a few blocks away, a line-of-sight, laser-beam-detonated charge that had been placed in the derelict restaurant. The blast was only big enough to blow out the remaining windows and storefront bracings, but the noise carried for blocks and sounded like a war breaking out.

  It also immediately produced the desired effect as the four guards visible to Kyle quickly moved to the far side of the bus to get a glimpse of what remained of the blast cloud, or more likely, the glow from any after-blast fires. If all went well, the guards would stand gaping, perhaps even wondering if it was one of the increasingly common gas explosions, while the Knight Errant team began their assault.

  On Ravenheart's signal, troopers Quess and Douglas sprinted forward under cover of Vathoss and Keith's guns and Kyle's readiness to unravel any spells that might be directed at them. At the same time, Kyle quickly began activating his powerful foci, and masking as much of their aura as he could. No use in tipping the bugs off early or making himself an especially inviting target.

  Quess and Douglas reached the fence and quickly strung a sticky gray rope that resembled primer cord across the fence, forming roughly the shape of a large door. One end terminated in a set of wires and a small plug. As Quess severed the end that curled outward from the small roll he held, Douglas attached the wires to a small box. Without a word spoken between them, Quess stepped back and Douglas pressed a button on the box.

  There was no spark or light, but smoke suddenly sprang up along the length of the rope where it adhered to the fence. Kyle knew that the electrical charge provided by the box disrupted the barrier between two substances in the rope. When they merged, there was acid, and as Kyle watched, it quickly ate through the thin metal of the fence. Both Quess and Douglas, wearing bulky, oversized gloves, held on to the section of the fence so it wouldn't fall. It didn't, and as it bowed and pulled away, they yanked it clear, carefully laying it down on the grass.

  The stench off the fence was terrible, and there were still wisps of smoke rising from the edge of the hole. But it was there and the troopers around him were quickly moving to­ward it.

  Suddenly, three muffled shots rang out. Kyle knew the sounds from experience, but wondered how many others would know what they were—high powered sniper fire. If he and the others were lucky as they passed through the fence, three of the six guards would already dead. The sec­ond volley would come quickly, though probably only fast enough to catch two of the three remaining. Odds were the third would dash around the bus for cover, and straight into the sights of Sergeant Vathoss.

  As they moved quickly and quietly, the second volley rang out, but Kyle saw no guard dart around the bus.

  "Six on the ground," said Ravenheart in his ear. Vathoss, down on one knee, gun braced and ready, stood quickly and moved to cover the rear of the line.

  They were just under one hundred meters from the buses and there was little doubt that the queens and nest-mothers now knew they were under attack—six of their own were dead or dying.

  "Brood released!" Ravenheart said suddenly, and Kyle shifted his attention into astral space, slowing his pace, his perceptions of the physical world becoming blurred. The "brood" was the gaggle of watcher spirits, and the plan was to release them when Seeks-the-Moon, temporarily posi­tioned next to Ravenheart, saw signs of bug spirits responding from the depths of the building.

  Looking ghostly in the physical world, the ten spirits exploded into the area, screaming and shouting at the top of their lungs. They darted into view from between the smaller buildings to the east and the power array beyond them. They were, even to Kyle at about a hundred and fifty meters away, quite loud.

  A dozen insect spirits, a mix of buzzing wasps and flies and skittering ants and roaches, darted through the big metal doors that led deep into the building. Immediately, the watcher spirits banked, continuing to scream, and in at least one case, sing as loud as they could. The bugs darted apart, unsure of the strength of their attackers. The watchers were small, and deadly fast, and would ultimately be no match for the more powerful insect creatures. But they didn't need to win, only delay.

  As Kyle's group rushed toward the buses, Kyle saw the faint glow of a spell in front of the building. If things were still proceeding according to plan, Ravenheart had just cast a wall of energy against the metal power plant doors. The bugs would be able to batter it aside, but it was another way of gaining an additional few seconds.

  Visible only in astral space, three wasp spirits burst out of the building through an upper window. Kyle watched for an instant as the first two turned quickly, angling for the front of the plant. The third, however, jerked itself in mid-flight and dove down toward the assault group.

  If it saw them, then it also saw clearly that Kyle was a mage and astrally active and vulnerable to attack there. He stopped himself suddenly. Quess, running immediately behind him, twisted to avoid Kyle as he ran past.

  The bug shot toward him at blinding speed while Kyle pushed the formula for the spell through his mind and then cast it, the blur of the spirit's form barely meters away. The energy, backed by the full power of Kyle's foci, flashed be­tween the two in astral space, striking the bug as it tried to turn aside. The flash, red and brilliant white in the astral, was so powerful it even flared slightly in the physical world. The spirit, not as large or powerful as the others Kyle had faced, disintegrated, clouds of its dissipating energy engulfing Kyle.

  His spell had been powerful, he and Ravenheart having decided that the personal risk of throwing high-powered spells was worth the strain. If a bug got through or close enough to either one of them or Seeks-the-Moon, the whole plan could fail. On the downside, the spell's
power also mean that nearby insect spirits had probably perceived it and would be swarming his way within moments.

  But there was little he could do. Almost immediately Kyle saw a pair of ant spirits clamber around the lead bus, half running across its side. He could now also hear screams and shrieks of fear from within the bus. He hoped, and prayed, the people would stay where they were. But that was Seeks-the-Moon's job.

  * * * *

  Two of the troopers paused and opened fire on the onrushing ants, while Kyle and the others rushed forward, shifting their run slightly to avoid the ants and the hail of gunfire. The ants jerked to one side as the hypersonic bursts struck them. The shots were precise and deadly, but the two ants were tough.

  A flash of fire erupted between them suddenly, pitching them both to one side. The spell could have come from either Ravenheart or Seeks-the-Moon, depending on whether or not the latter had begun moving toward the buses. One of the ants was torn to pieces; the other stumbled, two of its legs sheared off or broken. It screeched terribly, probably calling to its hive-mates.

  Kyle and Quess reached the side of the second bus and immediately began calling out to the occupants to stay inside. Kyle could hear screaming, a smashing noise as if someone was trying to pound a window, and terrified shouts. Quess suddenly shoved Kyle's shoulder, spinning him and pointing him toward the river. Beetles, tens of them, black and shiny but barely visible in the shadows of the building, were pouring into view. He didn't dare count, but there had to be dozens, maybe even scores.

  He keyed the voice circuit in his headset radio. "Barrier! Now!" he said on Ravenheart's channel.

  The horde of beetles rushed forward at an impossible speed, their huge claws tearing up the turf as they ran.

  Traces of light glinted off their hard-shelled bodies, and Kyle prepared the heaviest area-effect spell he could muster.

  Suddenly, a wall of gray and blue energy sprung up between the swarm of beetles and the bus. It arced quickly over Kyle and dropped down the other side, encasing the buses in a hemisphere of energy.

 

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