THE VROL TRILOGY

by SK Benton

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  Standing in the middle of his expansive quarters, Draagh analyzed data on a floating infoscreen, whisking his hand side-to-side and top to bottom over the seemingly intangible, semi-transparent interface. Knowing he had exhausted nearly every option available, he had come to one final idea. As the old mage formulated his plan, his faithful computerized servant floated off to the side, each of his movements causing a gentle stream of beautiful, bronze-colored particles to waver and dissipate in thin air.

  "Query: What else can we do? My Lord, we have analyzed every three and four-dimensional travel stream executed via your ghanlo within the past millennia, which is the entirety of the data that exists since the last purge."

  Socrates would not lie. He could not - it was a mathematical impossibility, as he was basically a sentient computer program. He and Draagh (and Jennie on many occasions) had diligently traveled to every single location recorded on his staff, which was really known as a ghanlo - the staff merely being the conductor for the power that the old mage carried with him, and was connected to his DNA. It was this very connection that allowed Max to 3D slip around Krynos' castle, but at the same time reject the young man when a 4D slip was attempted. Draagh's ghanlo was his, not Max's. The young man's genetic similarity to his grandfather permitted local teleportation, but not advanced navigation via The Hub, resulting in Max's disappearance.

  "I believe I will need to try something on the border of desperation. Yes, desperation," the immortal plainly said. "There is one thing we have not yet attempted, and although it sounds totally implausible we must try."

  "Query: What would that be, my Lord?"

  "In order to put my plan to the test we must find Max's father."

  "He could be in eternal purgatory for all we know, my Lord, you even stated yourself that he is nowhere to be found at present."

  "Perhaps, yes perhaps, but I believe there is someone who does know where Mija-El resides. He will be loath to share this information with us, but we may yet convince him to assist."

  "Query: Who would this individual be, my Lord?"

  "Max's uncle, Gabriel."

  "Oh my… Query: Will that really be necessary?"

  Elsewhere in the castle, Luigi Bagatelle travelled down multiple corridors to a stairwell that led to a basement armory in the bowels of the massive stone complex. It was from there that the recon team would depart after meeting, planning and gathering armaments. It was to be a unitary mission; corral a nest of cannibals into a predefined network of caves that only had one entrance and exit. Then, simply leave them to expire from reduced levels.

  "G! Welcome!" blurted out the very excited Lieutenant Gunnarsson, the former Lieutenant Jennifer Escalante.

  "Good morning, Lieutenant. I assume you slept well…"

  "I did, yes I did, thank you."

  Jennie smirked at her brother's formal response in mixed company. Even though he had previously commanded an entire fleet of highly advanced, interstellar spacecraft, he was, at that moment, a mere ensign in a lycan army that enjoyed the technological power of 5th century Vikings, which was like comparing the power of a bumblebee to a nuclear bomb.

  "So Mr. Bagatelle, I am confident you read the parchment of our mission objectives."

  Bagatelle had indeed read the parchment. In fact, he went over the orders three times. Not so much because he felt it necessary, but more because he found it oddly quaint and very cool that he was reading orders on parchment, and not on transpaper or a personal console. He had already accustomed himself to taking orders from his former subordinate officer and younger sister, Jennie. That wasn't a big deal in any sense of the word. He just felt it necessary to work harder than everyone in order to master his skills. As soon as he mastered his skills he would be able to supersede all of the competition - and it truly was competition. It was mathematical and to the point. But the next response was a phrase he thought he would never emit from his mouth.

  "Yes, ma'am. I have read and studied our mission, and am ready to fulfill my duties."

  "Excellent, then! Troops, let's hit the road!"

  Jennie led the group of a dozen lycan males out of the armory, up the stairs and out into the main courtyard, where Krynos was standing and waiting to see them off.

  "Lieutenant - I trust your judgment in all you do. Best of luck in your mission and please, if you encounter any danger at all, do not hesitate to slaughter the brainless ones. I know that Draagh insists on a more, how does he say, humane solution, but your safety is paramount in any case."

  Jennie nodded and bowed to her king. Then turning back, motioned for her soldiers to follow. Bagatelle brought up the rear - not because he was a lesser soldier, but due to the fact that Jennie had assigned him to sweep behind - his years of military experience would be put to great use even though he was merely a lycan ensign.

  As they moved out through the massive front gate, Bagatelle looked down to see Krynos' pet sharks playfully swimming in the expansive moat that surrounded the castle. One of his typical chores was to feed the sharks, which usually consisted of tipping a cow or two into the water. When first told to do that he was mortified, as he could not imagine torturing a poor, dumb animal in such a manner. However, his distaste for the task waned significantly when he found that the sharks' lunches were magically stupefied, and that they were basically standing unconscious and would not feel a thing when they met their demise. His niece Liliana, however, was a completely different story - she would frequently go and toss living creatures into the water for her pets, as she called them. Bagatelle took it all in stride, realizing that the young girl was raised in a different world.

  Marching in formation in a northerly direction, the team moved on for roughly two hours through various landscapes - wooded areas, plateaus, rolling fields of grass, etc. Finally they came up to the foothills of some minor mountains that seemed to be constructed of granite. There were a number of caves at the base of the nearest slope, and using her spyglass, Jennie saw disheveled, heavily breathing people running about in all directions. The team had arrived at the nest of the cannibals - poor, unfortunate humans infected by a virus that stripped away all logic and reason, the aforementioned replaced by an insatiable hunger for brains… human brains. Those who were bitten, but managed to not have their skulls cracked open and their gray matter snacked upon, ended up being cannibals themselves. Those who were eaten simply died, as would anyone who suffered such injury.

  After Jennie had effectively placed the majority of her troops at key positions on the perimeter, Bagatelle moved up to confer with his sister. This in itself was not really necessary, as the team had magically-enabled comm badges. Small, metal emblems pinned to their leather jackets, they enabled group communications, with each lycan hearing the others' thoughts.

  "Jennie, how can we get those poor souls into the caves without them attacking us?"

  She just looked at her older brother with a slight grin and nodded her head out into the open area. Looking out to where she had pointed, he was startled by a number of staged explosions that caused even more chaos than already existed, but had the desired effect - most of the Cannibals immediately took refuge in a large cave. Recon team members ran up and clubbed escaping cannibals over their heads, knocking them unconscious and leaving them on the ground. When it appeared that nearly all of the infected were either trapped in the cave (as once in they were unable to leave, thanks to a one-way barrier cantus that Draagh had embedded into small stones they had brought along and placed near the caves) team members picked up the unconscious afflicted and tossed them into the cave.

  Jennie looked on from her perch on a small hill, and on her comm called everyone back in. Bagatelle was assisting with the leftover afflicted, and had just tossed the last poor soul in his prison when he looked back at his little sister in horror. She failed to notice an escaped cannibal as it dropped down onto her from a tree, knocking her to the ground. It took a savage bite out of her shoulder, effectively injecting blood
and saliva into a vein, which was all that was needed in order to transfer the proper viral dose.

  Jennie immediately decapitated the mindless machine with her katana, as she screamed out in pain. Bagatelle ran to her side, reaching her in a matter of three seconds.

  "Jennie! What… what do I do? Are you affected?"

  Jennie looked up at her older brother with an expression of resignation. Breathing heavily, she quickly face downwards, not wanting him to see her eyes go bloodshot.

  Her head started to pound, and she started to feel angry - extremely angry.

  "G, tie me up in the tree - now."

  Chapter 10 - Welcome to Lykanrol

  Max awoke in a heavily wooded area to a small ray of sunshine on his face, and even though he had completed the transition back to his day form, he could still taste deer blood in his mouth. Sitting up slowly, he carefully scanned the horizon to make sure that nothing was watching him. He smelled nothing close, aside from some wildlife and refuse - which in itself was an indicator of the existence of hominid life forms, he had no idea where he was in relation to Club Seven Sins, but he seemed to be getting used to becoming lost. One thing was for sure - he needed to find some clothes, as his change to death form shredded his previous outfit.

  Detecting no nearby presence, he leaped up and took off in a northerly direction. He seemed to be drawn to the north ever since he had accidentally arrived in the Los Angeles area, although he had no idea why. He ran over the remnants of a broken freeway for what amounted to be ten kilometers when he finally picked up the scent of a group of lycans, along with a small settlement of humans to the east. Curious but cautious, he went to the settlement first, looking for clothing, which he easily found outside on a clothesline drying in the sunshine. It took him a bit more snooping before he found a pair of boots in a barn that fit him sufficiently. Not finding anything that could be used as a weapon in the poorly built structure, he ran up into a wooded area and selected a tree branch that would function as a spear. Amping himself to his battle form, he used his elongated, sharp fingernails to carve a point on the end. Then, grabbing his spear, he jumped up and headed off to where the lycans resided.

  After capturing and consuming two rabbits (and peaking his levels), Max approached a clearing, taking care to stay downwind to decrease his chances of being detected. He saw a main structure, surrounded by numerous huts, tents and sheds. Focusing his vision he found that he could see heat signatures inside the small buildings - something he had not previously been able to do in the Rhönen Dominion. He made a mental note to test that particular skill when and if he ever got home.

  Smelling 3 male and 2 female lycans, Max paused as he determined his next move - he needed allies. He needed to find a way home, and he still had that odd urge to go north. So, he decided to approach from a neutral position, making plenty of noise so as to not startle the encampment. He had nothing but bad luck with lycans since accidentally arriving in Los Angeles, so he really had no reason to believe that this clan would behave differently. However, as he had learned how the locals behaved he was relatively sure he could pull off a little acting job and be more like them.

  Trotting down an exposed hillside, he made sure he kicked a couple of rocks and started to whistle a tune (which happened to be his national anthem, el himno nacional de Nueva Argentina). This was enough to bring two males and a female out of the main structure. The largest male, looking around 50 years of age, stood in between what appeared to be his two subordinates, arms folded as he watched Max approach.

  "Who are you, ass-hat?" asked the large lycan in the middle.

  "Heya! I'm Max."

  "Oh yeah? That's nice. Hey, do you know what state you're in?"

  "Umm…… California?"

  The apparent leader gave Max an incredulous stare, and then, believing he was incredibly humorous said, "No, you dick. You're in a state of mass confusion. Leave or die."

  Of course this prompted his cohorts to snicker and guffaw. Max held his ground and kept approaching while still holding his homemade spear.

  "Hey, I'm not here for trouble. Actually, I am lost. I got dropped off by some demons and managed to escape the boundary where I..."

  "You escaped the Vrol and the boundary? Huh? How did you do that?" the leader interrupted immediately.

  "Well, I am not sure how I did it, but I did. I'm not here for anything. I'm just trying to find my way back… hey… you know what they are called?"

  The leader nodded, looked at his companions and finally gave Max a look that was more representative of what one could consider respect.

  "Yeah. I'm originally from Canada. Name's Miles. This here's Sally and that's Indie. My mate, Sheeva, is still sleeping. She's carrying my pup so she needs rest. Jason's sleeping too - he had night watch. What's your name again?"

  "Max. Max Gunnarsson. I'm from… umm… Argentina… originally."

  "Argentina?" asked Sally, speaking for the first time, "isn't that in the southern part of the planet?"

  Max had obviously encountered people with more than superstitious knowledge that consisted of half-truths and rumors. They knew of the Vrol and of the southern hemisphere. He knew he would have to make something up quickly, and then play dumb while he tried to get some answers out of them.

  "Yeah," responded Max, "I sure am glad I encountered some smart people. No one in Hollywood knows anything."

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes, showing a bit of feigned disdain for the inhabitants of his new home.

  Sally sniffed around, and then whispered something in Miles' ear.

  "You betcherass we're smart. None of that inbred Vrol crap here. So, now that we have determined you're a lycan we won't kill you… yet… are you hungry? Would be great to hear your story. Bound to be interesting," replied Miles.

  "I'm willing to share my story - sure. Not really hungry though, I ate a bit earlier, but thanks. Hey, do you have any coffee or tea?"

  Indie spoke for the first time saying, "We have some coffee we got on a raid. Don't usually drink it, but I can whip some up on the fire."

  Max nodded in appreciation and smiled, taking care to not bare his teeth.

  Miles led everyone over to a center area in between the habitations of the encampment. A massive fire pit was in the center, obviously a place where meat was cooked. Sitting down, Max took note of his surroundings, sizing up the buildings, their geographical orientation, and more than anything else, sizing up his new friends. With his prior lycan experiences in this world, for all he knew he would be murdered while taking a leak, so he stayed alert.

  Indie started to prepare something that smelled similar to coffee as Miles just sat, staring at Max. After what seemed like too many uncomfortable minutes Miles spoke.

  "So, tell me your story - and no bullshit. I can smell liars… from miles away - that's why they call me Miles."

  "Well, Miles," started Max, "as I told you before, I'm from very far away. My culture is distinct from any here, and I'm lost. I need to find a way back home… to Argentina."

  He was telling the truth, to a certain extent - he was from an Argentina, just not from that particular planet. He also left out the part where he is from an alternate timeline and that his wife and daughter live centuries in the future.

  "So, how did you end up here from Los Angeles?" asked Sally.

  "The area where I was staying was attacked by Vrol ground troops, so I fled. I started running and didn't stop, ending up here."

  "All the way here? Do you realize how far you are from Hollywood?" asked Miles, while wearing a ridiculous expression.

  "Yeah, I run fast. I used to run… a lot. I'm used to it. Plus I was the hunter in my family, so it's no big deal."

  Max took a deep breath, trying not to show his mild mania. Closing his eyes and acting as if he were tired, he attempted to calm himself with a mini-meditation session right in front of his new acquaintances.

  "So, you're about 30 miles away from Hollywood. Pretty good hike, if you ask me.
That is, unless you found a shortcut tunnel. You didn't find one did you?" asked Miles.

  Max did a bit of rudimentary math in his head. His people had abandoned standard measurements long before he was born. In fact, they were never even used on Azul, but he was aware of the conversion formula, which was roughly the number of miles divided by point six two (0.62). A run of 48 kilometers was a good spread, but he wasn't about to tell his new acquaintances that he turned into a nearly brainless (now not so much) werewolf on the full moon.

  "No, I didn't find any sort of tunnel. What's a shortcut tunnel, anyway?"

  "It's a hole in the rock where you enter, but the exit is way far away," stated Indie.

  Max thought for a moment, and believed they could be talking about a permanent slip point. He had never created one, but knew that they could theoretically exist.

  "Well, I ran. I needed to get away from those nasty creatures. Have you ever fought one, hand-to-hand?"

  "I lit one on fire once. It smelled like shit," responded Sally in a monotone fashion.

  "Sally likes burning stuff up," Miles proudly stated. "She's our resident pyro. But yeah, we can snag an Airvrol every now and then. Then we take its teeth and use ‘em for money."

  Indie handed Max a cup of coffee, which he immediately tasted. He found it rather pleasant, and not as bad as he would have previously thought. Thanking Indie with a nod, he turned to Miles.

  "Thanks for your hospitality. I don't mean to be here long. What I really need to do is to find a mage and…"

  "A mage?" Miles interrupted sarcastically. "Everyone knows they're all full of crap. They only think about themselves. Besides, there hasn't been a real mage around these parts for a long time, son. It's said that they were the first ones to take off when the Vrol arrived. Like the mages knew something was up and the Vrol didn't come to help and be friends like the government told everyone. Hell, the government had been trying to force all mages to register, and most resisted. You can find fakers though. They're idiots lucky enough to have found a mage device."