Revisionary

by Jim C. Hines

  For me, it summoned the despair I’d struggled with a year ago. I felt like my chest had been hollowed out, rotted from the inside by everything I’d lost: friends who had died in the fighting back home; my brother’s trust; my dreams for New Millennium; even Gutenberg, though that one was tempered by relief that he no longer ruled the Porters.

  Lena kissed me, supplanting the sirens’ magic with her own. I slipped my arms inside her jacket and pulled her tight. I don’t know how long we stood there, frantically kissing and grasping at one another, until another explosion interrupted the sirens and our own desire.

  I broke away and looked around for Deb. She’d moved to the bow and was staring out at the waves, but she hadn’t flung herself into the ocean, which was the normal response to an unfiltered siren’s song.

  If the sirens had hit us that hard, I couldn’t imagine what they’d done to the crews of those Coast Guard ships. Only they weren’t leaping overboard or collapsing in despair.

  Another round of explosions went off. In the flickering light, I saw that the crew were wearing hearing protection similar to our own. They’d known exactly what they were up against, and had come prepared.

  I swore long and loud over the implications, but I’d have time to sort that out later. I clapped Lena twice on the shoulder to let her know I was moving out, then swapped books and reached deep into Rick Riordan’s The Lightning Thief.

  I was starting to push my limits. Characters cried out in my head, and my vision flickered with the imagination of countless readers. I seized one particular image, pulled it free, and donned its power. Wings peeled open from the sides of my sneakers.

  I leaned over the rail long enough for the waves to spray my face. The cold water helped me focus on this world.

  I tapped Deb’s shoulder twice in the signal we’d agreed on. She caught my arm and stepped around behind me. I gripped the rail as she climbed onto my back and clung like a child. I was shocked to realize she weighed little more than my niece. Renfields tended toward the slender side, but Deb was a scarecrow.

  She pounded my chest with one hand. I nodded and spread my arms for balance as my winged sneakers lifted us aloft. It was like walking on marshmallows. I leaned forward and tried not to think too hard about the physics.

  I failed. With an unstable source of lift anchored to my feet, we were far too top-heavy. We should have toppled head over heels within seconds of leaving the deck, but the wings and their magic seemed determined to keep us upright. Even if they strained my ankles to the breaking point in the process.

  I crouched until my knees touched my chest, which eased the stress somewhat, and gave me one more reason to be grateful for invisibility magic. We would have looked completely ridiculous flying over the waves in a deep squat.

  We were a good thirty feet up now, high enough for a painful belly flop should things go wrong. Halfway to the nearest ship, I saw a group of men using some kind of rescue net to haul a siren on board. Another siren was sprawled on the deck. A group of people huddled over her body, securing her while a man knelt and did something to her mouth and throat, no doubt to mute her power.

  Wind wasn’t enough to stop this. I paused in our flight and grabbed Control Point again. Instead of aeromancy, I switched to portamancy, the magic Cole’s protagonist used to open doorways to an alternate dimension. Cole’s soldiers had found other uses for a two-dimensional rift in reality.

  I didn’t bother trying to anchor my gate to a real-world location. I simply sent the gate hurling through the air like a Frisbee.

  It sliced the tip of the bow from the first cutter as neatly as a light saber through a vampire.

  It was like throwing a lit firecracker into a wasp nest. Dozens of guardsmen swarmed over the deck. Some checked the damage while others searched the water for the source of the attack. I’d dissolved the gate, so there was nothing to find, but that didn’t stop one of them from shooting into the waves.

  I hovered in place and waited for the mental afterimages to fade. Those gates were particularly challenging to work with, especially since I was trying not to hurt anyone. I simply needed to turn the ships away, or to distract the crew long enough for the sirens to escape and for us to find out exactly who had issued these ships’ orders.

  I started forward, then hurled myself to the side as three figures burst up from the water in front of us. Deb’s grip tightened into a noose around my neck. The shift in weight dragged my body into a backward arch. I windmilled my arms, but I couldn’t right myself with Deb dangling from my neck. My head was pounding, and I struggled to breathe.

  She began to swing back and forth, which increased the pressure on my throat. My vision clouded, and my spine popped like I’d gotten an adjustment from the world’s most sadistic chiropractor.

  With one last swing, Deb hurled a leg up around my waist. The momentum helped me to roll over in midair, allowing her to resettle herself on my back. I carefully bent my knees and re-centered our weight, hissing in pain as strained back muscles made their unhappiness known.

  Once we’d stabilized, I looked around to try to get a read on the new arrivals. Vampires, most likely. They could fly, and they didn’t seem to have any trouble with water, which narrowed down the potential species. No wonder we hadn’t spotted any Vanguard boats: they hadn’t bothered to bring any.

  Two more vampires rose up behind another ship. They touched down on deck, seized the closest crewman, and hauled him into the air before anyone could react.

  If the vamps were of the bulletproof variety, this would turn into another slaughter, far worse than what I’d seen in Lansing. I couldn’t let that happen. I reached for another book, but before I could use it, a floodlight on the farthest ship swiveled around to focus on one of the vampires.

  In less than a second, the light burned him to nothingness.

  Another vampire dove into the water, dragging a struggling guardsman down with him, but the light followed them. Moments later, the guardsman surfaced and began swimming back to his ship.

  More floodlights chased the other vampires through the air. The Coast Guard had to be using ultraviolet bulbs, powerful enough to simulate the sun’s rays. Not only had they been ready for the sirens’ magic, they’d prepared for vampires as well. They’d known what Vanguard was sending to intercept them . . .

  This was a test. A fucking research project. That was why every previous Vanguard attack had involved only a single species. Too many variables weakened your results.

  Send werewolves to assassinate the governor and attorney general, and make sure the FBI is en route. Time how long it takes the werewolves to complete their mission, then measure their effectiveness against law enforcement. Anyone who got their hands on the surveillance footage would have a trove of data on speed and strength, as well as the effect of the mundane bullets that killed one of the werewolves.

  Now they’d moved on to more advanced weapons, designed specifically to work against inhuman species.

  Had the Porters helped them develop those weapons? UV was a known vampire weakness. It was possible the Coast Guard had developed those spotlights on their own. But they’d also known roughly where to search for the sirens.

  Deb couldn’t have known. She wouldn’t have sent those werewolves out to die as lab rats. She and the rest of Vanguard were pawns.

  Deb was pounding me on the hip, trying to get my attention. How long had I been floating here, seething? I nodded hard and knocked her fist away. Hands trembling, I grabbed Butcher’s Small Favor, a book I’d brought along as a last resort. I ripped open the book’s magic, focusing on a scene with Queen Mab. I channeled Mab’s power into the water closest to the ships and drained the heat from the ocean.

  Waves froze with a sound like giant bones snapping again and again. Frost spread over the hulls. The ice cracked and reformed as the Kagan came to a halt. The cold spread to touch the other two ships, locking them together in an expanding iceberg.

  I closed the book. That much power had
charred the pages enough to render it useless for at least a decade, but it had done the job. None of these ships were going anywhere until they freed themselves.

  Already men were firing their weapons into the ice, trying to crack it away. I had to give them credit for professionalism. This couldn’t have been a threat they’d trained for, but they hadn’t hesitated to improvise, splitting their forces between vampires, sirens, and my own magic.

  I flew toward the Kagan, keeping my distance from the disturbingly large front cannon. We landed on the aft deck behind a pair of men who were securing an unconscious siren to a rescue stretcher. Everyone wore ear protection, so I didn’t worry about being quiet.

  Deb hopped off my back, but gripped my hand in hers so we wouldn’t get separated. Her skin was cool and damp, with a texture that reminded me of flaking paint.

  I had no way of freeing the siren without being discovered, but I was able to place a tracking dot on her leg with the same book and magic I’d used on Deb a few days before. I clenched my fist as I watched the men quickly and efficiently pass their prisoner down a narrow set of stairs into the body of the ship.

  I’d studied the ship’s layout in Vegas. The bridge was near the front of the upper deck, directly below the radar. Windows provided a hundred-and-eighty-degree view. According to Charles’ instructions, we needed to reach the Command Information Center.

  He hadn’t been optimistic about our chances.

  “Good luck with that. The CIC is one of the most secure rooms on the whole damn ship. Invisibility won’t get you through those doors or let you hack into the computers.”

  We approached the bridge and waited. The sirens’ song would make radio communication difficult, meaning someone would have to relay orders directly. It wasn’t long until one of the deck crew came running. He pounded three times on the door.

  Through the window, I could see the bridge crew donning ear protection. Twenty seconds later, the door swung inward. I used aeromancy to summon a gust of wind strong enough to wrench it open and hold it while Deb slipped inside.

  This bridge was far more cramped than anything I’d seen on Star Trek. I counted nine people crowded together, most of them working over somewhat outdated-looking control panels. Thick cables were strung along the ceiling.

  Heavy foam panels had been added to every surface, presumably for increased soundproofing. Additional panes of glass were welded into place over the windows.

  I’d have recognized the commanding officer even if he hadn’t been sitting in the captain’s chair. The thick-shouldered, balding man made me think of a gargoyle, calm as stone as he observed everything happening around him. According to the reports Talulah had dug up, this was Commander Jeffrey Hill. He’d taken command of the Kagan two months ago.

  Deb homed in on Commander Hill. I relaxed the wind and allowed the struggling crewman to drag the door shut.

  Within three minutes, it opened again. Commander Hill stepped out, followed closely by Deb. Her magic tangled his thoughts, guiding him toward the CIC. Several people watched him leave, their expressions ranging from concern to confusion, but none tried to intervene.

  Why struggle to hack locks and computers when you could hack the man in charge? Hill led us deeper into the ship, down another flight of steps, and through a heavy, narrow doorway. I barely noticed whatever it was he did to gain access through the next door. My attention had been caught by the sidearm secured to his hip.

  That was no standard-issue military weapon. It was a JG-367 handgun, invented by Johannes Gutenberg shortly before his death. The titanium “barrel” was a solid wand. In addition to firing blasts of deadly energy, it could put targets to sleep, transform them, petrify them either temporarily or permanently, and more. The grip used a built-in telepathic interface, allowing the owner to switch modes at will.

  We had field agents around the globe working to keep weapons like this out of mundane hands. How the hell had the Coast Guard gotten hold of one? The only place you could get a JG-367 was from the pages of a book by Stuart Pan. Gutenberg and the Porters had slipped several paragraphs into the final manuscript of his last bestseller, meaning any libriomancer—and nobody but a libriomancer—could use the book to create the gun.

  It was possible Commander Hill had gotten it through the magical black market. I’d gone that route once or twice myself in the past. But given their knowledge of siren migration routes and their preparation against the vampires, it was more and more likely they were working with someone from the Porters.

  I was going to find that someone. From there, I would work my way outward until I’d found everyone who’d orchestrated these killings, everyone who’d signed off on using magic to spread terror and hate and death. And I would show them that magic could also bring justice.

  Caught up in that thought, I almost got left outside when Deb and Commander Hill squeezed through the doorway into the CIC. I hurried after them, yanking my jacket behind me so it didn’t get caught in the door.

  Once inside, Hill tugged off his hearing protection and looked around. I followed suit. This was even more cramped than the bridge, with rows of computers and radar screens showing the status of various parts of the Kagan.

  “Report,” barked Hill. “Where’d that ice come from?”

  “Nothing on radar, sir,” said one of the crewmen.

  A woman wearing a headset and microphone added, “The reports I’m getting suggest the ice hit us first, then spread to the Czerneda and the Independence. Tracing the path of the spread backward puts the source off our port bow.”

  “Order one of the gunners to rake that area. Probably too late, but we might get lucky and startle up whoever’s hiding out there.”

  “What kind of vampire freezes the fucking ocean or chops the nose off a ship?” asked the man who’d spoken first.

  “Belay that, Sitterson,” snapped Hill. “Glue your eyes to that radar and find me the rest of those sirens.”

  “Aye-aye, sir!” Sitterson flushed and turned back to his screens.

  “Lynch, any change in our orders?”

  “No, sir,” said the woman in the headset. She glanced at the man beside her, both of them clearly confused as to what their commander was doing here, and both of them just as clearly unwilling to ask.

  “Get me the printout.”

  “Sir?” asked another man, this one squeezed into the far corner of the room.

  “We’re up against creatures who can mess with your thoughts, Lucas. Any one of us could be affected, and I want to be damn sure we complete our mission as ordered.”

  “Aye-aye, sir!” Lucas squeezed past his crewmates and handed over a folder.

  A light flashed at Sitterson’s station. He leaned closer. “Looks like electrical damage, sir.”

  He spun around too quickly for me to get out of the way. His chair struck my knee, making me stumble. Nobody else seemed to notice, but Sitterson scowled and reached out. His hand caught my sleeve. “Shit! We’ve got an intruder!”

  Sitterson lunged out of his chair and crashed into me, knocking us both into the crewman at the next station. His hands found my shirt, then my throat, and he slammed me against the floor. My head struck the metal deck. My vision flashed.

  Deb came up behind Sitterson and peeled him away, tossing him to the floor like he was a dirty outfit ready for the laundry.

  “Secure the door,” Hill shouted. “Whoever you are, you’re not getting out of here. Surrender, or you will be killed.”

  He’d drawn his sidearm. That was a mistake. I knew the JG-367. I’d read the book it came from. Not only could I read its power, I could mess with it.

  “Show yourself, and tell me what the hell you’re doing on my ship.” Hill kept the gun pointed to the floor in front of him, his finger off the trigger. “Lynch, radio the Czerneda and the Independence. Tell ’em they may have invisible vamps sneaking on board.”

  I tugged the JG-367’s telepathic control text into myself, switched firing modes, and triggere
d the weapon. A silver beam of light touched the floor, transforming metal to stone.

  “Fucking magic.” Hill reached for a mundane sidearm on his other hip, while simultaneously trying to holster the JG-367. This was what I’d been waiting for. I fired it again, this time sending a sleep spell directly into his leg. He collapsed.

  Deb snatched the folder from his hand.

  “Right there!” One of the crewmen pointed my way. “There’s two of them!”

  I’d overextended myself. In setting off Hill’s weapon, I’d lost my invisibility spell. I could see the text crumbling around me. I only had a few seconds before Deb and I would be completely visible.

  Two men blocked the door. Deb hurled them aside. I barely had time to jam my earplugs back into place before she wrenched open the door. The song of the surviving sirens outside slammed over me and the crew. I blinked hard, trying to focus. With shaking hands, I pulled my headphones into place, further quieting the sirens’ magic.

  A gunshot cracked behind me, little more than a quiet pop, but fire erupted through my forearm. I climbed up the stairs and out onto the deck. My head was spinning. Men with machine guns were running toward us.

  Deb caught me around the waist, climbed the rail, and jumped. My winged sneakers slowed our fall, but that magic was dissolving as well. I dropped what was left of our invisibility and concentrated on holding on to those tiny wings.

  A spotlight swept past me, but most of the lights were aimed elsewhere.

  I stopped breathing when I realized my mistake. The invisibility spell that had protected the two of us had shielded Lena and the Nemo as well. When that spell failed, our little fishing boat had become visible.

  The Kagan’s deck guns fired, ripping enormous holes through the Nemo. A second ship added its assault to the Kagan’s.

  Between the two of them, they tore the Nemo apart.

  JAPANESE VOTE BRINGS ASIA CLOSER TO WAR

  The Japanese legislature narrowly voted to amend Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution today, in what many see as a serious threat to peace in the region.