Cavalry

by Thorby Rudbek

  “Understood.” Hawk took the Navigation Sphere in his other hand, thinking the disguise into operation as he moved towards the corner. Twisting the chequered sphere to cause the Aircar to rotate, he found a half dozen armed thugs conferring, one directing with angry hand gestures that it was time to advance. A gust of snow swirled around the Aircar and for a moment the shape was clearly revealed. Spooked, the weapons swung up in unison and began to ‘speak’. Brad squeezed the blue sphere and twisted it, slicing the group from left to right, silencing them forever.

  Back at the crumpled and crumbled entrance, several laser beams and Eric’s older but very effective weapon found targets as the enemy completed what they optimistically thought of as a pincer movement from the other direction. The pincer parts perished.

  Karen stood up, her mind stretching out. Chelsea pulled off a glove and put a hand on the back of her heroine’s neck, feeling the energy streaming down her arm and glad to be able to help in this intimate way. The other Buchanan stood up too, glancing at the battleship grey of Kirrina’s eyes.

  “Any more?” He found he had blurted out the words.

  “Yes. A few more. Ah!” Karen shuddered in time with the sound of automatic weapons fire. “That will fix that.” She glanced from Todd to his wife and on to Ruth, her bleak face showing how she had solved the problem, though Mrs Hardy did not understand until later. “Thanks.” She dropped her head. I wish Richard were here.

  Chelsea caught this thought and pulled her hand away, ashamed that she had inadvertently eavesdropped, seared by the intensely private nature of this thought.

  “Oh, Taxi, my dear. Don’t feel bad.” Karen turned her transiently blue eyes on her, tears freezing on her pale cheeks. “I am sooo glad you are here!”

  The hand returned to her neck, restoring the power transfer, and the confirmation of this spoken message then mentally transferred through the physical contact brought Chelsea to tears, too.

  Brad dropped Magic Wagon down beside them, the ‘hidden mode’ disabling as he settled the Aircar onto the pavement. The doors opened.

  “Everyone! Back inside,” Karen called out, augmenting her vocal efforts with a mental broadcast. “The rubble needs to be cleared. We’ll use the laser in Magic Wagon, but let’s stay warm and avoid getting hit by any dislodged rubble during the process.”

  Eric and Sophie ran back across the avenue, piling into the vehicle, where they fell into a happy, back-slapping embrace, until Sophie surprised him with a kiss on both cheeks.

  I could get used to this! Kirouac grinned his response, his eyes softened from the battle-hardness of a moment before.

  Brad swung the vehicle around, pointing the ‘business end’ at the rubble-blocked entrance. He watched as Karen adjusted the laser to produce the effect she needed.

  A moment later and the beam panned across the rubble, turning it to vapours and dust. She shut it down after panning left and right twice; this was followed by a prudent waiting minute for the view to clear, and then a ragged cheer from the dusty, half frozen, half sweaty, universally blood-soaked team burst forth as the way to the back of the building, where the basement entrance was situated, appeared.

  “Sophie, I want you to stay here with Brad, in Magic Wagon.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks for the coat, young man!” The lovely, once elderly Mrs. Trathad winked at Eric, passing him back his blood-splattered winter coverings. “Wait ‘til I get a decent dress – you can take me dancing!”

  Eric chuckled, his memory of the hug she had given him and the litheness of the body which he had briefly felt making him excited at that prospect, though his dancing skills were limited to modern ‘steps’. I’d learn the waltz and whatever else you do, just to get another chance to help my ‘old’ friend!

  The door to the basement swung open as Kirrina led her now battle tried-and-tested troop towards it.

  “Love the re-design – open plan… so futuristic!” Terry Stadt, dressed in a classy overcoat, stood in the doorway, viewing the destruction of his apartment building foyer.

  Ruth ran past her pale leader, the laser weapon in one hand, crashing into him with such force that he staggered back a step. “Oh, Terry! Thank God you are safe!” She kissed him forcefully but fleetingly, breaking into a grin as she saw his eyes light up. “I came. Isaac is fine. You have soooo much to learn!” She grabbed his one living hand, intending to lead him to meet the others, but Stadt pulled back, turning to the stairwell beyond the open door.

  “Hang on. Hey, Alex, Shannon, come on up! I was right to trust the thoughts – Ruth is here, we are safe at last.” And I’m not going insane! He turned back and saw the blood on Ruth’s coat for the first time, becoming instantly concerned. “Are you hurt?” His jovial manner disintegrated as he held her gently with his artificial hand as well as his original one, attempting to ensure that his servos did not apply undue pressure to her upper arms.

  “No, that’s not my blood.” Ruth shuddered as she recalled the intense battle.

  Terry looked up from her as the others drew near. Again, he was alarmed by the ragged clothing and copious blood which seemed to have been thrown over his rescuers.

  “We have all been Restored,” Kirrina explained, being unintentionally cryptic as she hurried to catch up with the suddenly fearless Ruth. She shook his right hand, feeling his reluctance to use this appendage but insisting on the formality. “I’m Karen Fletcher – I think you’ve heard of me. We don’t normally look like this, but one of the thugs that had you inadvertently trapped down there was a rare type – one that I can’t detect.”

  “Unlike me.” Terry’s gaze shifted to Ruth and back to this dazzling dispenser of destruction, suddenly realising that his love for his best friend’s wife was known to the strange stranger. “What kind of…”

  Karen put a hand up, placing her forefinger against his lips. Give me a moment. You can trust me. She watched as his eyes found this new level of communication to be a revelation. No one else knows, and, once you’ve listened for a moment, you’ll see it is best that it stays that way. She slid her hand around his face, settling the connection on his cheek and neck where the striped business shirt showed. Now, this won’t hurt a bit…

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Like no other girl in the world

  A middle-aged female face appeared, peering uncertainly around the door, seeing the still communicating, statuesque Terrance and Karen and then spotting the familiar – to her – Mrs. Hardy.

  “Ruth!”

  Isaac’s wife pulled her attention away from her first, now forbidden love and looked towards the sound of the timid voice. “Oh, Shannon… It’s okay; we’re here to rescue you.”

  The somewhat matronly Ms. Kurg, her rather inadequate cream overcoat wrapped tightly around her bland figure, seemed to find this far-fetched.

  Ruth grinned to herself at this and stepped over to Stadt’s older assistant. “Lots of unbelievable things are happening these days.” She glanced back at the two immobile ones, wondering what Karen was providing via her mind merge with Terry. “Where’s Alex?”

  Shannon turned back to the open door and called out. “Come on up, Alex, Ruth is here, and a bunch of other people.”

  After much more than a moment of anticipation, Ms. Montgomery puffed into the foyer, her very ample form clearly having found the ascent from the basement, via stairs, to be a significant challenge, her down-filled maroon coat wide open, showing a contour-hugging white tee-shirt which hung over a knee-length greyish denim skirt.

  Ruth hugged the younger of Terry’s assistants, finding more to embrace than she had remembered from her last meeting with the then significantly impressively overweight Alexandra. Whoa, she hasn’t gotten any slimmer since last summer! “Oh, Alex, how are you?” Immediately she felt her words seemed banal and wished she had said something else, but Alex smiled at her warmly.

  “I think I’ve had better weeks!” She looked around the lobby, taking in the rubble and the blood-stained people,
wondering for a moment if she had stepped into a zombie movie set, though the actors seemed an incredibly healthy bunch, with no hint or trace of deathly pallor among them – except perhaps for the one with the platinum blonde hair.

  Karen stepped away from Terry, turning to face the new arrivals and breaking the waxwork illusion. “Ladies! I’m Kirrina Fletcher.” Her eyes flickered with a hint of blue for a moment before returning to their deepest grey. “We are living on borrowed time here, so I’ll dispense with any other, conventional greetings. I have a unique talent to share information very quickly.” She grabbed Stadt’s fake right arm and pulled him over. “Isn’t that true, Terry?”

  “Oh yes…” Stadt still looked a little shell-shocked, but managed to get out an intelligible reply. “Everything to gain, nothing to fear from this lovely angel!”

  I’ll go with the younger one first, I think. Karen stepped closer to Alex. “Please watch the boundaries for me, everyone. I can’t keep this sort of thing up indefinitely.” She glanced at Taxi and then Todd and finally at Ruth, checking that her message was understood. Eric and Brad know the score. “Now, Alex, may I just touch your cheek?”

  Alex looked at Terry, got his confirmation and gulped as she stiffened in anticipation.

  As the hand made a gentle contact the connection was made and the broad, triple-chinned face went from fear to surprise to relief in less than a second.

  “I’m not going to give you much info,” Karen sighed, pulling her hand away after a few seconds and turning to Shannon. “It takes such a lot of energy and I’ve had a busy day already.”

  Chelsea, Todd and Eric returned to the perimeter of the rubble-strewn entrance, checking out the snowy street as they considered the possibility, previously unknown to them, of enemies that Kirrina could not find.

  “We’ve made a lot of noise,” Eric remarked as he surveyed the area directly ahead and then looked left along First Avenue towards the corner, wondering if the view around that near point was a motionless as the one down Fifty-Seven Street seemed to be.

  “Yeah, and New Yorkers can be a curious bunch, even when it’s cold,” Chelsea observed, looking at Brad in the Aircar and getting a nod, which she took to mean ‘all is quiet’. She noted that Sophie was sitting beside him, up front, and wondered if the fierce French girl had taken over manning the impressive laser.

  “Taxi, you have a good point there! And the kind of New Yorkers that would come to investigate a fire fight in the middle of an arctic freeze are probably not the kind we’d want to meet.” Todd completed her thought process, looking at Eric for guidance.

  “We’ve got a few minutes at least, unless they’ve managed to get any ground transportation moving.”

  “Yeah – that’s unlikely.” Todd walked over to Magic Wagon and opened one door slightly. “Brad, could you fly back to the corner and check down the way we came – Karen is busy updating Terry’s assistants and I don’t think we should expect her to be able to do boundary control at the same time!”

  “I’ll see what I can see.” Brad nodded his agreement. “You’re right; I think we’ve been leaning on her pretty heavily.”

  Todd closed the door and the Aircar rose moments later, melting into near-invisibility as the holographic system came into force.

  Eric stepped out into the road, though the kerb was buried under a couple of feet of packed snow, so the exact location of this boundary was lost to him. “I’ll take a look at the buildings from the other side of the avenue. You two do the same – look at the windows – look for any broken or open ones.”

  Todd and Chelsea nodded in unison.

  The Buchanans gripped their Narlav weapons grimly as they watched the soldier cross through and over the variable hard snow banks and soft drifts. Todd pulled his gaze away and scanned the unpretentious building opposite, checking out the air conditioning units poking out from windows and confirming the sense of emptiness visually.

  His wife checked to the right, beyond the abandoned vehicles to a point almost a half block past Fifty-Six Street, where the visibility became so poor that she found only uncertainty. I feel like we should be safe, but I sure don’t feel like hanging around until it gets dark!

  Something made her look back the other way – perhaps a desire to see that Magic Wagon had not deserted them, though this desire was of course impossible while the Aircar was hidden from all view. Instead she saw that Karen had walked out of the ruins and was waving to her. She looks exhausted, even from here!

  A flurry of snow wavered and Magic Wagon reappeared as it settled back into place, close to the young Mrs. Fletcher.

  Hawk popped the forward door and stepped out, closing it behind him to keep Sophie warm. “Karen!” He put out a hand, hastily pulling off the glove he had just put on, and reached for her neck with this appendage as he used his other hand to grab her under her left arm to stop her from falling. Energy flowed rapidly into her and she brightened a little. “You can’t go on like this!”

  “There’s no one else…” Kirrina smiled wanly, her eyes blue against the light off the snow. “Thanks, Brad. …you saved me again!”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Hawk looked behind her at Ruth and Terry, coming out of the rubble-strewn foyer with the two assistants close behind. “I checked down Fifty Seven Street, nothing happening there.” I can’t be certain…

  “There’s no one – that I can detect – close enough to be a risk.” Karen instantly picked up on his concern of course and her eyes greyed again as she reconfirmed this. “The people upstairs are another problem, though. We’ve trashed the power links in the building, wrecked the heating and the lobby staircase entrances are piled with rubble, trapping the people up there in a building that will rapidly get too cold to survive in.”

  “How many?” Brad immediately regretted this question, as he saw that she had to dig even deeper to find the energy to determine this.

  “About fifty… maybe more.” She smiled as she leaned against him, sighing. No, we can’t get that many in Magic Wagon, not and still breathe!

  “I’ll stay here with them. Take the others back. I’ll keep them safe in one of these other towers.” He saw her reach out to find another safe one and felt his own energy level starting to sink as her need continued to drain him.

  “Yes. No. Not here.” Kirrina reached up and laid her own hand over his where it rested on her neck. “Hang on!”

  Hawk staggered, finding that his vision of the figure so close in front of him was blurred but seemed almost to glow.

  “Bloomingdale’s!” Karen’s dimples showed briefly as the rush of power from him to her calmed slightly. “Take Sophie over there – no, take me, too… we’ll leave these ones here, in the basement – it’s not too cold here yet, and then I can make sure it is a good idea.”

  It took only a couple of minutes to explain the plan to the others and then Brad was flying his two passengers the few blocks to the famous department store, snow swirling around their craft as they stayed low between the tall buildings. On the way he stopped at a vaguely warm convenience store and with Sophie’s help, took all the non-perishable foods he could carry into the Aircar, reasoning with his fellow-travellers that they would need some food – or something akin to it – to keep the refugees going until the next day.

  As he landed Magic Wagon in front of the main entrance of the massive store, he was pleased to see that the place was locked.

  “There’re a few employees inside.”

  Brad looked at Karen with amazement, realising that she had determined this from the Morrison.

  “It was Sophie’s idea!”

  Mrs. Trathad was confused at this.

  Kirrina pulled the lovely young woman close to her, inadvertently starting an energy transfer as she did so. “You wanted to go here. I ‘heard’ you and – somehow, I know that, if I get an idea, no matter how crazy it seems, I should listen to it.”

  Sophie’s eyes glistened as she realised the full significance of this. That
is why I’m here and not fading in ultra-slow motion into oblivion in my anonymous apartment.

  “But, you contacted them from way back there?” Brad persisted.

  “No. Yes, that is – just one of them. An older guy with the greatest natural open- broadcasting mind I’ve seen. He’s called Brad, too!”

  Hawk chuckled as he shook his head, amazed at the power and kindness of the one he had chosen to protect, his initial decision based on her innocent face, intriguing aura and Richard’s impossible, idealistic hopes. And soon after, the demonstration of a shoe-box-like laser engraver-come air-to-air missile and aircraft interception system had convinced him he was not being taken for a fool. Only that doesn’t really begin to do it justice!

  A few minutes later, introductions made through the door and entry gained, thanks to Kirrina’s influential ‘touch’, Sophie Trathad was escorted to the women’s clothing department by a younger female Bloomingdale’s employee who kept looking at her ancient clothing with amazement and encouraged Sophie – though she needed very little of this – to begin her transformation from ‘old fogie’ to ‘chic’.

  “I think you’ve got it right,” the assistant murmured, still uncertain why these strangers had descended (quite literally, though she did not know this yet) on her lovely store and saved her from what would eventually have been slow starvation in splendid isolation. “Anyway, you can’t go on wearing that old stuff.”

  Initially the elderly and long-time widow tried on underwear, finding that her first guess at sizes was far too generous, but, once she had installed herself in a changing room and spent a long moment looking at the apparently perfect reflection of femininity in the full-length mirror, she soon determined what she needed.

  Valerie (the shop assistant) got her sorted out, finding the experience a refreshing one after days of monotony. She found herself folding up the ‘rejects’ and putting them neatly back on the shelves, though she wondered if she would ever come back to work there again. When the cold spell is over…