Authors: Stuart Slade
“Tomovoninkranfat
Sire.”
“I
need you to take these messages to the legion commanders. It must be done
tonight.” Abigor was about to issue the usual blood-curdling threats when he
stopped himself. This one had flown in with the messages although terribly
wounded. Hell ran on fear and terror but surely nothing could be worse than
what this flier had already faced. “Tomovoninkranfat, you have already served
me well and I thank you for everything you have already done. I see your wounds
and know how much this must cost you but these messages must get through.”
To
Abigor’s astonishment, Tomovoninkranfat drew himself up. “Your wish is my will
Sire.” And he left clutching the parchments in his unburned hand.
Behind
him, Abigor felt another wave of surprise. Could it be that it wasn’t necessary
to terrorize everybody in sight in order to get things done? That praise and
trust could sometimes work as well?
Headquarters,
Multi-National Force Iraq, Green Zone, Baghdad.
“They’re
moving.”
The
great screen in General Petraeus’s command center was showing a sudden surge of
activity in the baldrick Army that lay along the Wadi al Gudrhat. Formations
were beginning to move shifting sideways, the deployment changing. Far over
their heads, the Global Hawk was faithfully recording everything they did but
what it could not do was tell General Petraeus why they were doing it. That, he
had to work out for himself.
“A
night attack Sir?” An aide spoke with unease. It was hard to make a guess based
on intentions with so little to go on.
“Could
be. They’re moving sideways though, not forward. Extending their line. I’d
guess this move started when word of what happened on their flanks started to
trickle in.”
“Perhaps
they’re trying to replace the flank cover we destroyed yesterday?” Captain
David Tall was jumping in with both feet as usual.
“Could
be.” Petraeus repeated the same words absent-mindedly. “Any other suggestions?”
This
was his “school for Captains”, the time when his aides were invited to give
their opinions on what the situation on the display actually meant and what
should be done about it. Later they would compare their opinions with what had
really happened and learn.
“I
think they’re scared.” Captain Ellen Yarborough flushed slightly as the General
looked straight at her.
“Why
do you say that Ellen?”
“Because
they don’t know what hit them yesterday. They’re still trying to piece it all
together. Look what hit us over the last 24 hours. Cavalry, phalanxes of
infantry, I mean real phalanxes General, only those harpies were anything even
remotely modern. Now look what hit them. Tanks, Mick-vees, artillery, MLRS. Its
completely outside their terms of reference. So they don’t know what hit them.
“What
they do know, Sir, is what we did to them. I bet the commander over there has
reports coming in and he’s trying to make sense of them. He’s noted we kill
wholesale, not retail. So, he’s thinning his troops out, trying to reduce his
casualties by giving us less to shoot at. He’s also extending his front and
might hope to outflank us but that’s a secondary thing.”
“Anybody
any comments on that?” Petraeus looked around.
“It
means he’s pretty smart. They didn’t fight smart yesterday.” Tall looked around
at the group gathered around the screen.
“Oh
yes they did.” Another officer, Captain Keith Renshaw cut in. “They fought very
smart in their own terms. Can you imagine trying to stop that attack with
spears and bows? They’d have stomped straight through us. And they kept going
even while we slaughtered them. Can you imagine a human army taking a battering
like that and keeping up the advance? I can’t.”
“Important
point that Keith.” Petraeus spoke approvingly. “They showed a lot of guts. They
didn’t change plans though, that tells us something about how fast their
command structure can handle changes. Ellen, you make a good point as well. The
commander over there is responding to what happened, doing so pretty fast.” He paused
and looked at the display again, it had updated to show the baldrick positions
moving further sideways. “Whether he’s simply reducing the richness of the
target environment or has thoughts about outflanking us doesn’t matter. What
he’s doing gives him the option and we have to allow for it. Any suggestions.
Ellen?”
“The
critical point is here, at Hit. If Hit falls, and its right on our front line
our extreme right flank, he can cross the Euphrates and come down between the
river and the Buhayrat ath Thatthar. Cut us off from our supply lines. We have
two brigades from the Fourth Infantry Division in reserve, I suggest we order
one of them to move to cover that area, position them east of Aqabah. With the
divisional M270s in support. That way they can either block the baldrick
advance or, if they don’t cross the river, swing and hit their left flank.”
“Comments?”
Petraeus looked around.
“Sounds
good to me.” There was a mutter of agreement.
“That’s
because it is good. Gives us plenty of options. One change, the MLRS launchers
stay where they are. They have the range to support the 4th from their present
positions and we might need that firepower. 25th Mech and 10th Mountain can
provide most of what we need but I want to keep one battalion of M270s on a
ready-to-shoot basis in case of unexpected developments. Thank you.”
Petraeus
turned back to his display. The baldrick line was definitely extending and
thinning. Yarborough had been right, they were learning fast. Not fast enough
though.
DIMO(N)
Conference Room, The Pentagon, Arlington, VA
“Doughnuts
and Coffee ladies and gentlemen and, errr, other lady.”
There
was a quick stir as people descended on the refreshments trying not to be seen
as too keen to grab the iced donuts. Lugasharmanaska looked at the plates with
a distaste and a certain element of despair. It had been a week since she had
eaten and her body was screaming for raw meat. These balls of fried plants were
of no use to her.
“You
don’t like donuts Luga?”
“I
eat meat. Fresh meat. Not vegetables.”
“Donuts
aren’t vegetables.” One of the women present, a dedicated vegan didn’t like the
way this conversation was going.
“Donuts
are made of flour yes? Flour is from plants. Plants are vegetables so donuts
are vegetables.”
“I
must try that on my doctor.” One of the men spoke quietly but the vegan lady
still glared at him.
Robert
O’Shea was speaking to the Pentagon kitchens on the telephone. They had some
standing ribs down there and he asked for the largest to be sent up. “Beef all
right Luga?”
“Human
is better but any meat will be good.” She noted the expression on the faces of
the rest of the people in the room. “You do not eat your dead?”
“No.”
It was a short, clipped phrase.
“How
strange. So you just waste them.” Lugasharmanaska shrugged and then her eyes
lit up as the raw meat arrived. She grabbed the joint and ripped at it with her
teeth, tearing off large lumps and swallowing them. The vegan lady nearly
fainted. There was a general agreement that they’d learned a first important
thing about the baldricks. Their table manners were appalling.
“If
we might get started.” O’Shea looked at Lugasharmanaska who was still grunting,
snorting and tearing at her meat. He couldn’t help thinking it was a charming
sight to see somebody enjoying their food so much. “First item, communications.
We can communicate back up to Hell on a one-to-one basis but that’s all. Luga,
how do we open a portal.”
“You
can talk to people back home? Then you can open a portal. Just add more power.
Get more of your mages to add their power to the message. First you can get
messages through then with more power the message opens a gate. It’s easy. As
long as you use a Nephilim to contact.”
“What’s
a Nephilim?” The vegan lady wanted to keep Lugasharmanaska talking in case she
decided she wanted some more meat and created another display like the previous
one. The stripped bones were still on the table to remind her of what that
sight had been like. Idly, Lugasharmanaska picked one of the ribs up, cracked
it open with her teeth and sucked out some marrow.
“Nephilim
are humans with demon ancestry. Long time ago, when we were here before, we
mated with humans. We succubi still do. Sometimes there are offspring from such
matings that are both human and demon. Now, the demon ancestry in a Nephilim is
mostly very small but enough remains. We can contact them even from our
dimension.” Lugasharmanaska thought carefully, how could her information be
valuable without giving away too much? “We can make you see what we want you to
see but we must be able to see you for that. But with Nephilim we can contact
make messages without seeing.”
“Is
that how you come to Earth.”
“Yes.
We contact a Nephilim and use our mind-mask to establish a message link. Then
our leaders add more power and form a gate we can step through.”
Lugasharmanaska
looked around and saw the growing affection in the eyes of the people around
her. And gratitude for her assistance. She was doing well, and her stomach was
full at last. Only one person present didn’t like her and that was the woman
who had complained about eating meat. Lugasharmanaska eyed her and wondered,
purely academically and without any intention of actually trying, what she
would taste like.
Observation
Room, DIMO(N), The Pentagon, Arlington, VA
“What
do you think of her Robert?” James Randi looked at O’Shea, his eyes twinkling
slightly.
“Well,
she’s not the sort of girl I’d take home to meet my mother.” O’Shea thought for
a second. “On the other hand, she eats humans so I might take her to meet my
ex-wife. But in her way, I thought she was quite pleasant.”
Randi
smiled and shook his head. This was why the JREF always filmed their tests and
trials, it was amazing what one could see when a situation was played back.
“Watch this Robert.”
It
was a film of Lugasharmanaska eating, her teeth ripping at the meat, blood
spraying around her, running down her chin. She was looking around, half
suspicious that somebody might take her food but it was obvious that her eyes
were also assessing the chance of eating one of the other members of the
meeting.
“Quite
pleasant Robert?”
O’Shea
looked appalled. “I don’t remember it like that. Oh, I noted she was a bit
gross when she was eating but nothing like that.”
“That’s
why we record all of the tests we do. See things that get missed first time
around. We’ve noticed how that succubus seems to get on everybody’s good side
very quickly. Nobody had much bad to say about her. There’s something we need
to look at here.”
“We
all had our foil caps on.” O’Shea sounded defensive.
“I
know, anyway it seems like we need to investigate this a bit more. Robert,
something your people can look at, I need to get go and get more power pumped
into our links to hell.”
Chapter
Eighteen
Headquarters,
Army of Abigor, Western Iraq.
The
Great Beast saw Abigor approaching and clicked its claws in greeting. As
befitted Abigor’s status, his Great Beast towered over the lesser Beasts ridden
by the cavalry brigade and its black skin swirled with iridescent colors that caught
the rising sun and sparkled into a shimmering halo. Abigor returned the
salutation of his Great Beast and swung up on to the animal’s back. Over his
head, he could see the viciously curved tail straighten and then fall back to
its natural position. The Great Beast was ready to move, to attack the humans
that dared to defy its master.
Ahead
of him, Abigor saw his legions start to roll forward, the thinned ranks looking
pitifully slender by the standards of demon warfare. The legion was designed to
fight as a solid mass, its 81 ranks adding mass and weight to the charge that
would strike the enemy with the force of a battering ram. Abigor had knowingly
sacrificed that weight, given up the power of his charge in favor of hitting
the humans along a much broader front. Ahead of him, he could see the humans
had done it again, they had formed up behind the ridgeline where they were
shielded from the trident bolts of the demon infantry. They had to be up there
though for this was the day of the great battle.
Overhead,
Abigor could see the strange white clouds the human Sky Chariots left behind them
as they searched out the remaining fliers. He could hear the sound of their
battle-cry, a strange roaring scream punctuated by thunder-like explosions as
their fire lances tracked their targets and blew them apart. There were more
Sky Chariots here that Abigor had ever seen before, they filled the sky above
the battlefield, dipping down to slash at the fliers who floundered helplessly
below them. Casualties up there must be terrible, Abigor thought. Even as he
watched, three fliers fled westwards back to the hell gate. A Sky Chariot was
in hot pursuit, closing the range on them with terrible speed. Oddly, this one
was silent and if Abigor hadn’t been watching, he wouldn’t have known it was
passing. Only after it had passed did Abigor hear the thundering crash and roar
of its battle-cry. The Sky Chariot swerved after the fliers and it gave forth a
rasping moan that filled the sky with bright lights. One flier exploded, there
was a brief pause, then another rasp and a second flier died. The Sky Chariot zoomed
skywards, rolled over and slashed down at the third. It too died as the lights
engulfed it.