by Andy Boot
Breaking through a defence force that could not see you, that was taken by surprise and did not know where to direct their fire was one thing....
This was another.
"Oh..." Jenna mouthed simply. A syllable that said more than any curse.
The walls of the Institute were manned by battalions of warrior security, with a fair sprinkling of troops. The latter were distinguishable from those who served in the capital by the scars they bore and the battered condition of weapons that were no longer deployed for war, but had been kept as favoured tools.
On the one wall that they could see, a head-count elicited thirty-four warriors forming a security cordon. Could it be assumed that there would be a roughly equal number on the other walls?
So, about seventy-to-one, then.
Simeon had to hand it to Varn, that was a quick and efficient deployment. His confidence sank even more. Jenna noticed his discomfort.
"Sim, we've come this far. We can't stop now. Look, we're invisible, we can find a way past them, just like we did back there," she gestured in what she assumed to be the direction from which they had originated. "All we have to do is think it through. I could get us over there with a holoship, and..."
Simeon stayed her with a gesture. "Not that easy, Jen. This is the Institute. You think that they won't be able to see through our simple charms? You think they won't be able to see a holoship? Even the lowest adepts have more power than we do."
As soon as he said it, he realised what the answer must be. He could only hope that Avathon was as good as his word.
Vixel was less than happy when he heard what had happened. In fact, the words incandescent rage would not even suffice. His bodyguard had delivered the news to him, something he was less than happy to be doing.
"You people are morons!" the Mage shouted. "Two people, one of them the escapee from Bethel, manage to penetrate our capital and break through the supposed cream of our warrior forces? Are you people even worth my time?" The bodyguard wisely said nothing, allowing his charge to calm down. Finally, Vixel spoke again.
"Very well. Gather the wizards and adepts. I shall address them." He held up his hand as the bodyguard made to speak. "Don't tell me that your fellows are massed outside and can deal with this. In the first place, I know they are there. In the second, I would not even trust them with the care of a dog!" His voice rose again, and he caught himself. "Go. Do it. Then bring Bey to me."
Vixel calmed himself while his bodyguard rushed to complete his tasks. He knew the wizards and adepts would be waiting, but first he must deal with his rival Mage. It did not improve his temper when Ramus-Bey was brought to him with a sly grin painting his wizened features.
"So," the Varn Mage began, keeping his tone even, "you have either been told, or have guessed."
"It isn't difficult. Varnians running about like headless chickens, a whiff of magic in the air. There is an attempt afoot to rescue me. Surely you must have expected this?"
Vixel was taken aback. "No. Of course not. Did you not listen to anything I said to you?"
"I had faith in the goodness of one man," Ramus replied.
Vixel sighed. "Anyone else, and I wouldn't credit such a statement. But from you... very well, you old fool, you were right. Somehow your idiot bodyguard has escaped his own people, reached Ilvarn and is most likely on his way here. It says little for our conventional forces that they have so far failed to halt him. However, I feel this is a good opportunity to demonstrate to the Chief Minister that the time has come to put magic over conventional weapons. Where the might of the warriors have failed, a few adepts shall triumph. We shall have sport with this man before we kill him."
Ramus-Bey's eyes blazed. "You shall do no such thing! I shall..."
"You shall do nothing!" Vixel barked. "If you seek to use your powers, then I shall counter them with mine. And," he added with a mocking grin, "we really don't want that, do we?"
The old man was returned to his cell and Vixel went to counsel his wizards and adepts.
"This fool Simeon 7 believes that we have Ramus-Bey here. Such a charge is ludicrous, and as fine an example of delusion as I have ever heard. He will stop at nothing to attain the inner sanctum of the Institute. He must not pass."
He continued to outline his strategy.
Like the rest of the population of Varn, those at the Institute had no knowledge that Ramus-Bey was in their midst.
As Vixel briefed his wizards and adepts so, on another continent, a similar conference was taking place. Avathon and his senior staff wizards had been monitoring the progress of Simeon and Jenna. They had seen, as if through Simeon's eyes, the situation around the Varn Institute. They had felt his sinking confidence, and had echoed it with their own empathic despair.
They knew it was time for them to act. Their powers would be greatly reduced at this distance, but if they could strike first they could pre-empt the Varn magic.
Avathon delivered a rallying call to his people. It was simple in essence: their magic would form a bridgehead, allowing Simeon and Jenna to strike with a more physical means.
Vixel believed solely in magic. He was an arrogant Mage.
Avathon believed in the realm of the magical and that of the physical co-existing. He was of a more humble mien.
Although neither was aware of the other's stance, their actions would be about more than the fight for one man.
Simeon's plan was simple. It was a reasonable working assumption that only the bodyguard for the Varn Mage, or anyone who was in charge of day-to-day security and surveillance at the Institute, would know the regular security checks and routines. Any warrior security drafted in without prior briefing would be at a disadvantage. Certainly, for the purposes of this mission he would assume that the warrior security stationed around the walls of the Institute would not have a similar knowledge. They would have no idea who was, or was not, a regular caller at the Institute. Routine deliveries, the everyday: these would be unknown to them, and they would, hopefully, be too distracted to stop and check.
First thing to do was to take a delivery vehicle. The first one to hand would do. All the better if it was a laundry vehicle, as then they would be spared the second task, which would be to find some Varnian clothes with which to blend in.
Of course, they weren't that lucky. They found a deserted grocery vehicle, left by its driver for some unknown reason in a side street. That was luck enough to begin with, Simeon supposed. It would be simple to by-pass the ignition codes and start the electron-drive that powered the vehicle. In such functional vehicles as these, codes were simple, as was the circuitry that powered them. If he didn't get it one way, then he could another.
That was the theory. As Simeon sweated over the codes, he wondered if it had been such a great idea. The doors of the vehicle had been left unlocked, which suggested that the owner did not plan to be long absent. Also there was every chance that the vehicle had an alarm, and a wrongly entered code - or an attempt to by-pass the system - would court disaster.
"Hurry up," Jenna murmured as she watched yet another passer-by crossing the end of the street. Each time someone came into view her heart leapt into her throat. She knew that the vehicle's driver would not know they were there until he tried to enter the vehicle, and so would be easy to overpower. But if there was even a chance that he or she could, in their surprise, raise an alarm...
Her tension was getting to Simeon. He abandoned any attempt to crack the coding, and went straight for the heart of the matter.
Getting the cover from the tech unit under the steering column should have been easy, but under her gaze he was fumbling. Beneath were the strands of fibre-optic that linked the drive to the entry-code pad. Pull the wrong one, and any alarm fitted would blare out. Pull the wrong one and the entire system could die, leaving them without the transport necessary for his plan to succeed.
Jenna grabbed his arm as he was about to separate the fibre-optic strands. He cursed to himself as he only just managed to cont
rol the muscle twitch that would have rendered the strands asunder all too soon.
He followed her gaze. Another passer-by: this one turned down the side street, paused, then entered a dwelling at the top of the road.
"Don't do that again," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Let me concentrate... just a second more."
He held his breath as he snapped the fibre-optic, waiting for the deafening blare of an alarm that did not sound. Instead, the engine purred into life.
He breathed out and wiped his brow. "Now stay here and don't let anyone else come along and steal this bastard... even its rightful owner," he whispered before slipping out to complete the next stage of his plan.
So Jenna stayed watch, to ensure that the driver did not return and take their transport. It would be simple to disable him.
It took Simeon longer to procure clothes for them than it had to crack the ignition code. Any other time, and the use of an invisibility charm to revisit childhood days of stealing washing as a prank would have had a certain sentimental allure. Now, it was just another nerve-wracking inconvenience.
On his return they dressed quickly in the brightly coloured Varnian clothes. Loose and flowing, they were able to put them on over their own, tighter, clothes, and were thus spared the problem of concealment. The last thing they would want to give them away were discarded uniforms.
It was not until they were within sight of the Institute that Jenna voiced her qualms, spurred to speech by the sight of the cordon of warriors.
"Are you sure this will work?" she asked.
"If you want the truth, I think it may be one of the worst ideas I've ever had. But it's the only one I can come up with right now. How's your Varnian dialect?"
"Poor. What about you?"
"Not bad. One good thing about being captured on a raid, you get to learn the native tongue."
They approached the gates of the Institute. One of the warriors ringing the perimeter detached himself and approached them.
Simeon stuck his head out of the vehicle window.
"What's this crap about, then?"
"Classified, citizen, can't tell you that. Can only tell you to turn back. No-one is allowed through."
"You're joking with me, right?" Simeon asked affably. "You got any idea how much shit I'm gonna be in if I don't deliver? Those weird guys in there start to moan 'cause they don't get their goodies - and I don't just mean the victuals, right?" He added in an undertone, nudging the warrior and indicating Jenna. "Like a little sweetmeat for the eyes right?"
The warrior eyed Jenna and grinned salaciously. "I get your meaning."
"C'mon, friend, I'm delivering wines, meats and dried fruits. Do I look like a danger to you? Ask the main man in there, he knows I'm due," he added. It was a massive risk but Simeon could only assume, based on his own experiences, that the bodyguard would be too preoccupied to be bothered.
The warrior screwed up his face. Thinking clearly didn't come easy.
"Okay... but only because she's so sweet," he added, winking at Jenna. She simpered, feeling like she wanted to throw up.
They passed through into the grounds, the warrior now behind them and explaining to another warrior, who had arrived late on the scene. Simeon accelerated towards the castle as much as he dare without drawing attention, hoping to put as much ground as possible between the vehicle and the cordon. It wasn't going to be long before the guard's ardour broke and he would remember that he was supposed to be on the lookout for a male and female stranger.
The vehicle shuddered as the rear end was ripped apart by blaster fire. The pulse of energy knocked out the vehicle's drive. Simeon yelled at Jenna to follow, and jumped from the vehicle before it had stopped moving. They were off like a Tallus at the gambling meets, searching for cover before the first shots reached them.
In the Varn Institute, the wizards and adepts prepared to flex their magic. Conventional forces had already fallen down because of their stupidity. It was time for the real power to take over and squash this bug of a problem.
On another continent, Avathon knew it was time. His people could feel the pounding adrenaline and fear of Simeon 7, could see the conventional forces flounder in his wake. It had not been a good plan, but it had bought just enough time to get them in. If Avathon was in the Varn Institute, he knew that he would choose this as the time to start a magical attack. Therefore, it was time begin the counter attack.
"Sim, what..." Jenna was unable to complete the question, already short of breath as she followed Simeon on his winding path through the fortress.
Around them, bizarre things were occurring. Thought creatures were forming and then dissipating in whorls of light shot through with black. Energy fields flickered and died before springing up again to meet counter-fields that crackled with hissing, spitting opposition. The ground beneath them moved as it was churned up by the rumbling forces of magical warfare. The turf beneath their feet became a moving carpet of wildlife, fleeing in blind panic and finding new threat with each direction.
But if their progress had been slowed, at least they were within the circle formed by the magical attack and counter-attack. Inadvertently, this had done little more than form a barrier that prevented the warrior forces from following the intruders.
"It's Avathon and the others I knew they were as good as their word," Simeon yelled. "You precious jewel," he screamed at the air, knowing that the wizard would feel the meaning.
They were within sight of the main doors of the keep. Imposing, thick wooden constructions that would require more than blaster fire to penetrate them. Thought creatures guarded them and, as they drew near, the amorphous creatures drifted from the doors, forming into huge scaled beasts with sharp talons and razor teeth in horned beaks.
There was no way that the energy from a blaster could overload them, even presuming that they would be able to get close enough without being ripped to shreds.
If ever I needed you, Avathon, its now, Simeon screamed mentally.
The wizard and his team did not let him down. Smaller thought creatures, of similar type, formed behind Simeon and Jenna, and moved to engage the Varn defences. These Bethelian magic forms were weaker because of the distance from which they were cast, but they were not designed to defeat their foe. They were there to create a distraction and allow time for Simeon and Jenna to slip through.
Simeon could not believe their luck as the castle doors began to swing open. However, as he saw the opponent waiting for him within, he figured that it was just what he should have expected. It was his opposite number, the bodyguard of Vixel.
"So you're the one who's causing all the trouble," the bodyguard said. His voice was soft and low, yet seemed to cut through the noise around them. "Wouldn't think it to look at you, but you've been resourceful so far. Pity it has to end." He looked Simeon up and down. "I believe in fair combat. I have weaponry, you have nothing. Will you come hand-to-hand?"
It crossed Simeon's mind that the bodyguard - armed as he was with a blaster and mini-cannon strapped across his shoulders - had not seen Simeon's own weapon. For one moment, he considered it... but duplicity was not his style, and when all was said and done the bodyguard was approaching him as a fellow warrior, regardless of allegiance.
Simeon assented, and gestured for Jenna to stay back. He unholstered his blaster and put it on the floor as the bodyguard did likewise. He waited while Simeon divested himself of the Varn garments he had stolen, until he was down to his battlesuit.
The two men stood opposite each other, a few lengths apart. They nodded to each other - a courtesy - and then crouched, circling and waiting for the first move.
For Jenna, it was a bizarre moment. In the midst of the chaos, the two men exuded an aura of complete calm. They were completely within the moment, focused on their imminent combat. The crackling, charged energy of the magical atmosphere did not penetrate their consciousness. Neither did the baying of the warriors beyond the wall of charms, desperate to gain access.
; Whatever happened next, Jenna reasoned that it had better happen soon. The long-distance magic of the Bethel Institute was starting to wane, and the Varn magic was beginning to win by sheer strength.
Oblivious, the two warriors circled each other.
Simeon feinted, drawing a retort from his opponent. It opened up the left side of the warrior's body. A swift kick, high on the ribs, scored first blood as the heavy combat boot ripped at muscle and tendon. The bodyguard grunted, twisted away to lessen the impact. Simeon followed up, but was too slow. The bodyguard countered with a roundhouse punch that caught Simeon on the side of the head, stunning him. His balance wavered, and his opponent followed the advantage by driving Simeon to the ground, bringing his weight down on Simeon's chest.
Lights exploded before Simeon's eyes as he felt his lungs constrict. Through them he could see his opponent lift his hands above his head, doubled as a club.
The bodyguard sat high on Simeon's body, leaving his legs free. As the man leaned back to gain the optimum swing so Simeon, with what little energy he had left, brought his knees up sharply. They caught the bodyguard on the small of the back. It was enough to break his momentum and unbalance him.
Simeon scrambled to his feet fractionally ahead of his opponent. He took a wild kick, unable to balance and aim at the same time as air still raced into his aching lungs. The kick was either a good or a lucky one. It caught the bodyguard on the right temple. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he folded like a card player with a bad hand.
Simeon had proved himself, finally, in combat, yet was still too dazed to appreciate it. He tried to shake his head to clear it, but only succeeded in making everything spin.