by GM Gambrell
Thirty Four
They had to pass through another angry forest to get to the clearing where the plane had crashed and all the trees talked. These trees, however, were farther from the city and not as worried about burning to a crisp. They were still adamant about the non-magical humans trespassing and screamed for the Magistrates to no avail. The group had to crawl through, once more, and on the other side Simon had to conjure them new clothing.
“The Source is coming back online. I can feel it,” Simon told them.
Duncan didn’t try to do any more magic and was content with letting Simon help them with their immediate needs. He wasn’t sure what the motivation of the former prisoner was or why he was helping them, but he was happy having a bit of help. It reminded him of all the times Marissa had helped him so long ago.
“It doesn’t matter, right now. We have to get to that plane and then figure out a way to get out of here,” Duncan insisted.
“If the Source is not destroyed here and now, while it is in a weakened state, you might not get the opportunity again.”
“Well, do you have an idea on how to do that?”
“No.”
“Then we go on to the plane.”
They saw the smoke drifting into the air several miles before they neared the plane. Then they heard the gunfire and explosions coming from the same direction. The sounds lifted Duncan’s spirits. Thought it meant that the crew of the plane, and quite likely his father, were under fire and engaged in some sort of battle, it also meant that they were still alive. The trio passed through another small forest, though this time it was composed of non-sentient trees and they snaked through the vegetation easily. At the tree line’s edge, they could see the Betty, mostly in one piece but smoking badly at the end of a trough it had carved in the ground as it crashed. Its wings were crumpled and the fuselage was littered with hundreds of lightning bolt and fireball scorches. The plane would never fly again in its current state, and Duncan found himself sad over the fact. The glorious old war bird had not only survived the second World War, but the Last War. If they ever won this battle, he promised himself, he’d come back here and build some sort of monument to the Betty.
The Betty was far from alone in the clearing. An entire herd of unicorns, hundreds of white and black horses, surrounded it and were trying to gain entry. Their bloodied bodies littered the ground around the crash site as the occupants of the plane fought back. The gunfire, not just from hand weapons but also from the plane’s still functioning heavy machine guns, filled the day.
“How are we ever going to get in there?” Jessica asked. “And is it worth it?”
“Jim is in there. They need our help.” To Duncan it was as clear-cut as anything else in life, and he didn’t quite understand why Jessica was balking at the idea of a rescue. That he had no idea how they’d affect a rescue didn’t even play into the situation.
“Say we somehow manage to get in there, Duncan. What then? Even if we could fight our way through that herd, eventually they’re going to run out of bullets inside. Then what? We might be better off waiting until they’re captured and then trying to rescue them from the Pit.”
“No,” Simon began, “there will be no capture. There will only be execution. If we are to save them, we do it now.”
Simon stepped from the tree line and whistled, “Hello, unicorns. My name is…well, I don’t quite remember my name. They call me Simon, but I don’t think that’s it.” His voice boomed, amplified by magic, and the unicorns paused in their assault of the stricken aircraft. Even the gunfire paused as the crew watched the strange, wild-haired man step out of the woods. “That’s sad, don’t you think? Everyone calls me Simon but I know deep down that isn’t my name. I do, however, remember you, glorious unicorns. I remember when I created you, when I pulled you from the far reaches of my mind, no more than a boy’s fantasy, and wished you into existence. You see, I don’t remember my name, but I do remember that I am your father. And as your father, I ask you to let these humans be.”
The unicorns, apparently created without speech like many of the other magical variety of animals, stared at him, and Duncan saw a burning hatred in their eyes.
“Step aside, good unicorns, and let us tend to the men in that plane,” Simon said as he stepped forward. The horses parted and a small path to the plane opened up. Simon strode forward like a king walking down the red carpet. As soon as he passed the first ‘corns, though, the gap closed and they surrounded him.
“Oh, no,” Jessica whispered as the unicorns rushed toward the Magician prisoner, the snorts of their anger filling the air. Duncan started to dash forward to help him when the first unicorn, a large black male, was flung into the air, landing behind them in the trees.
“I think he’s just fine.”
More unicorns were flung away like children’s toys, screaming through the air. They landed with wet thumps in the woods behind them and Duncan watched the fray. Simon moved like a madman through the herd, using magic to propel the creatures out of the way and to sling them into the air. They tried stabbing him with their single horns, sharp as swords, but the blows were deflected by some sort of field that surrounded the magician. Duncan knew he was looking at the most powerful Magician he’d ever seen. The man was able to manipulate matter with barely a thought, and even with the entire herd arrayed against him, he’d barely broke a sweat. He disappeared inside the plane and the gunfire resumed, directed at the unicorns. The ancient airplane began drifting slowly in the air, no doubt powered by Simon, and the unicorns retreated.
“Great,” Duncan said. “He rescued them but forgot us.”
“I don’t think he would,” Jessica said as the old familiar feeling of being teleported wrapped over them and they blinked away.
Duncan blinked his eyes and saw he was on the inside of the Betty. Simon floated cross-legged in the center of the bomb bay, his arms folded across his chest. His eyes were closed and his brow furrowed in concentration. The inside of the airplane was a mess. There were empty ammunition containers strewn everywhere and sunlight poured in through multiple holes in the fuselage. The crew was grimy and dirty from gun smoke and sweat, and when his father lifted his goggles from his eyes, it revealed the only two clean places on his body were the areas just around his eyes. He smiled at Duncan and came to him, hugging him fiercely.
“I almost canceled this operation when NAME told me you’d been captured.”
“He’s all right?”
“And then some,” Jim said. “He’s around here somewhere.”
“I’m glad you didn’t cancel the operation.”
“We’ve hurt them pretty well. They, at the very least, remember who we are.”
Duncan turned to where Simon floated.
“Who is he, Duncan? He came in, told us to hold on, and then we lifted into the air. He said you’d be along shortly and here you are.”
“They call him Simon but he says he doesn’t remember his name. He knows a lot about the Source, though, and seems to be very powerful. I can’t remember seeing anyone as powerful as he is.”
Simon didn’t blink. “I am the most powerful Magician.”
“So why is he helping us?” Jim asked, the suspicion evident in his voice.
“I don’t know. He helped us in the dungeon when we went to see the Source, and then he helped us again to escape the city.” He turned to Simon, hoping the man would open up and offer some input into the question from his father, the same question he had. The Magician was deep in concentration keeping the plane aloft. “He has, however, proven himself trustworthy to me. I may not have any idea of his intentions, but I don’t doubt his honesty.”
Jim looked back and forth from Duncan to the floating magician several times before nodding in agreement. “If you trust him, I trust him. You’re an amazing judge of character, as far as I can see. So…tell me about the Source.”
Duncan told him everything he knew and everything he suspected. He told him of the Source’s la
rge, shapeless form, and the thousands of eyeballs staring up in the deep cavern. He told him of the intense heat the creature generated and the Pit, the waste treatment facility that had something to do with dissipating that heat. He told him what Simon had said, that the creature was from the stars and how it returned to earth every time mankind began to make advances, knocking them back down into the stone age. He also told him of the Golems and Center, Texas.
“NAME told us about that town, and we already have a team on the way to save that library.”
“It’s dangerous, Jim.” He still couldn’t bring himself to call someone besides Albert Cade Father. “There are ancient weapons there that are operating on thousand-year-old orders. We just barely escaped from them, and if it hadn’t been for the Golems…”
“The Golems?” his father interrupted. “Like the creatures the Magicians conjure as slaves?”
“They aren’t conjured. Whether the Magicians know it or not, those are real people. They’re the people of Center, Texas. After the war, they entered something called Stasis Level Three and survived the long dark years. I don’t know how, but somehow, when the Creeping Death hit there, it separated their minds from their bodies.”
“You are sure of this?”
“When the magic faded after you did whatever you did to the pipes, I met one. He didn’t know where he was and thought he was in a bad dream. He said he was from Center. We read some of their history in the library from after the Last War when they went into hiding. It makes sense.”
“That will complicate things if there are thousands of people from before the Last War waking up all of a sudden. Can you imagine how valuable those people are to us?” Jim said, musing. “We have to save each and every one of them. They can teach us so much, give us knowledge we thought might be dead. I just fear we’re going to lose a lot of them in this war, Duncan. But we’ll do what we can for them.”
“What happened, Jim? How did you manage to attack New Atlantis?”
“We blew up the pipes on the continent, Duncan, and it was thanks to you.”
“I don’t know what you mean. What did I have to do with it?”
“We always thought the pipes were supplying magic and power to the cities. The idea that it could be the reverse honestly never occurred to us. We’d never made the connection between the Creeping Death and the cities. We always thought the Death was a separate problem, not a symptom of the power required to power magic. That’s where I’ve been…trying to coordinate all the colonies into one attack plan.” Jim paused and wiped the grime from his face. “It was a lot of work. Those magical pipes run all over the world, to every nook and cranny. We were only able to destroy a small number of the main ones along the coast.”
“And how did you get all those old planes here?”
Jim smiled. “I hope you get a chance to see the USS Barrack Obama, Duncan. She’s one of the most interesting things I’ve run across in all my travels.”
“What is a USS Barrack Obama?” Jessica asked.
“She’s an aircraft carrier that fought in the Last War. Afterwards, when the Magicians were destroying or taking every ancient piece of war machinery, she hid and has been at sea a thousand years, fighting the Magicians when she could. There was an entire armada out there. Can you imagine it? If we ever win this war, the tale of the USS Barrack Obama will take up a book of its own. The original crew managed to sneak ashore once they knew the world was lost and rescued thousands. The crew was the most selfless, honorable men I’ve ever read about and their decedents are no different. They carried the old war birds from the mainland and, hopefully, most of them have landed back there now.”
“I think I’d like to see that.”
“I’d like for you to, son, but our crews on the mainlands are still destroying the pipes. The magic is fading fast and I don’t know how long our hero,” he said, pointing to Simon, “can protect us.”
The Magistrate fighters closed in on the stricken but floating Betty and the explosions and machine gun fire rocked the ancient aircraft. Every time a missile struck home, impacting and exploding on Simon’s shield, Duncan could see the reaction in the Magician’s face. It was as if he was physically absorbing each blow, and he didn’t know how long he could last.
“We have to get back to the city,” Duncan said. “If we don’t destroy the Source, our kind will be doing this again in another ten thousand years. We won’t remember, Jim. We won’t remember what it’s done to us, and won’t know how to fight it. We have to strike at it now.”
Jim nodded in agreement. “I know, but I’d rather you not be here.”
“I’d rather not be here, either, but I am, and I’ve been to the Source’s lair. I know how to get there.”
Another explosion rocked the Betty, sending expended ammunition and crewmembers flying. Simon dropped down a foot, losing his concentration, and the Betty dropped with him. He regained his composure and the Betty drifted higher. “We have to do something soon. As Duncan has suggested I can’t maintain this long.”
Jim nodded, his face grim with determination. “Okay, then set her down. Hopefully NAME has already made some progress, and if he hasn’t, we can link up.”
“NAME is down there? In the city?” It seemed the ultimate irony to Duncan. The North American Main Entity, one of the grandest computers ever built, was rolling through the capitol of the Magician empire.
“He is and I think you’ll be surprised when you see him.”
The Betty, at Simon’s direction, floated back over the stricken and burning city of New Atlantis and Duncan stared out the window. Great crowds of people were still panicking in the street even though the bombs had stopped falling. Duncan watched the Magistrates, their bright red armor shining in the sunlight, herding the Magicians through the streets towards the entrance to the Pit. They were really doing it, he thought. They were using their own people to power the Source in the absence of energy from the Mainland. He knew, there and then, that they would do absolutely anything they could to stay in power and vowed to defeat them.