Authors: Stuart Slade
At
the sound of Rahab's entrance, the man glanced over his shoulder, then smiled
broadly, standing up and stretching. “Rahab! Come in! It has been too long!”
Rahab
smiled wanly back and embraced him. “Gaius Julius Caesar, it has indeed been
too long.”
He
returned the hug warmly, then held her at arm's length. “What brings you here,
my friend? The changes shaking up this prison we live in?”
The
surprise must have been evident on her face, because he burst into laughter
even before she could ask, “You know about it?”
“Rahab,
how long have you known what I've been doing here? I have contacts all over
Hell, and I have information constantly coming in.” Caesar smiled. “I know that
there are rumors flying all throughout Mekatrig's domain about an invasion of
Earth, about Abigor and his expeditionary force, and about a part of the Fifth
Ring, along the Styx, where they dare not go. And most of all, of the
assassination of Asmodeus. That news made all of hell ring with its chimes.
Have you come to give me a rumor?”
“No,”
Rahab said firmly. “I have something far better than a rumor. I have seen it
all firsthand.”
Caesar's
smile was gone in a flash, and he pulled a chair away from the hearth. “Sit,”
he said, gesturing. She sat, he sat, and then she started talking. She told
about her first encounter with the four strange escapees, how she'd led them to
the holding room, and how they'd disappeared. She told about the explosions
that had started echoing across the swamps, how the bridge across the Styx had
been destroyed as though it were built of children's blocks, how the demonic
patrols had started disappearing. She told how their shattered, lifeless bodies
had started appearing, with the letters “PFLH” scrawled in the greenish blood.
After
a little bit, Caesar held up his hand. “Forgive me; I was so happy to see you,
I did not offer you refreshments. Pullo, please get our guest some water.”
His
companion nodded and moved into an adjoining chamber. Caesar nodded at Rahab.
“Please. Continue.”
And
she did, stopping only to take the cup of water from Titus Pullo. Now, she told
of her encounter with the forces, of the assault on the castle she had
witnessed. She told of the lightning speed with which the insurgents had moved,
of their ability to kill from a distance and to call explosions. As she did so,
Lucius Vorenus moved slightly and listened to her words. Always the eternal
soldier she thought. And she told of the strange man she had been tasked to
hide, the man who was so fascinated with ants. Then she was done, and Caesar
stared at the wall, his face hard and unmoving in the firelight. The only clue
to his thoughts was the drumming of his heel on the ground, which continued
incessantly.
At
last, he spoke. “Rahab, I need you to contact the leader of this PFLH. I need
to talk to her as soon as possible. Tell her that we will meet on neutral
ground of her choosing. She will know that this means I am approaching her in
good faith. I will send Pullo and Vorenus with you; they are to collect the man
you brought with you and bring him back here. Now go; go now, and may the
powerful gods that caused me to be spared down here guard you also.”
Chapter
Fifty Four
Tapton
Hall, Western Sheffield, United Kingdom
"Come
on now, clear out, we can't take you after all."
The
older man was furious. "Are you insane? Two of us can barely walk and that
guy is completely out of it." His mask was still on and his voice was
slightly muffled.
"I'm
sorry sir, we have priority orders. There's another unit in the next road over
there." Special Constable Amstead gestured towards a row of houses
half-hidden by the drifting smoke. "I have to ask you to move, now."
He put his hand very deliberately on his holstered Smith & Wesson pistol,
but it was more the blank uncaring look in his eyes that convinced the evacuees
not to argue.
John
watched the civvies limp away, the cursing man trying to support the two girls
and the younger man trailing listlessly behind. It was a sad sight but this a
was top priority mission. He ducked back into the building, where Constable
Hillier was escorting the demoness down the central corridor. He'd managed to
splint and bandage her leg and even her damaged wing with creative application
of duct tape, but it was obvious that every step was still a minor agony for
the creature.
"Affirmative,
the weapons discharge was accidental. Piece of falling debris caught me on the
arm, no injuries. My partner's radio was out, no cause for alarm. 523
out."
Constable
Hillier clicked the radio off. It was lucky they'd found the demon defector
first. She'd already been wounded by a unit that obviously shot first and
interrogated any survivors later, and if those trigger happy Home Guard
amateurs had gotten to her first they'd have likely finished the job.
"Civvies
are clear, we can move her into the van now." John reported.
"My
apologies for what happened to you. You did a brave thing coming here."
Matthew looked at the demon uncertainly, not sure if he was improving the
situation. "I'm sure with your help we can prevent this happening
again."
The
gorgon spoke in a silky yet slightly rasping voice. "Yess, of course, but
you have to get me to that meeting with your king's advisors. I was told to
speak only to them."
"Right,
you were flying there when you were shot down."
'Probably
the SIS Matthew thought. 'Odd, but if that's what she says...' The idea that
the demon might be lying was somehow unthinkable. They'd arrived at the van;
the sounds of the fire teams and circling aircraft louder than ever but the thick
ashen haze rendered them invisible.
"Where
did you say the rendezvous was?"
"A
small village, a dozen miles to the north of here. I cannot remember the
name..." Lakheenahuknaasi tried her best to look sympathetic.
'Poor
thing, probably scared out of its wits.' "Barnsley perhaps? No, that's a
decent size town..."
"Grimethorpe?"
Special Constable Amstead volunteered. He had an aunt who still lived in that
run-down sink-hole.
"Yes,
that's it, Grim-thorpe!" Lakheenahuknaasi was desperate to escape this
awful place, anywhere would do. She climbed into the yawning interior of the
iron chariot, shuddering at the feeling of the cursed metal all around her.
“Huh,
lucky guess John.”
'How
can she be cold in this heat?' Matthew thought. "There's some space blankets
and a thermos of tea in the back there." The gorgon blinked at him.
"Shout if you need anything else. We'd best be off then." The two
police officers shut the rear doors and climbed into the cab. Moments later,
the van pulled away and headed north.
DIMO(N)
Special Devices Assembly Facility (formerly Payne Whitney Gymnasium Complex),
Yale, Connecticut
The
raised track formed a convenient balcony for viewing the main assembly area,
one which Dr Kuroneko had taken to spending his breaks in. The repurposed space
was packed with tools, workbenches, stacked components and half-finished
subassemblies. Many would not be out of place in any light engineering shop,
but some were thoroughly exotic and quite a few had been requisitioned directly
from high-energy physics labs. The place was crowded with engineers and
technicians of diverse specialties; DIMO(N) drafted whoever they needed (not
that coercion was required often) and left no stone unturned in building their
tiger team. The work went on 24/7, watched by the heavily armed guards that
stood at every entrance.
“Quite
a sight, isn’t it.”
The
flat voice again. Kuroneko tried not to look startled as he turned to face the
newcomer.
“You’ve
been approved for deployment over Sheffield.” the man continued “Your project
plan implies that you’ll be ready to ship the first device in five more days,
correct?”
“If
everyone continues to work day and night and there are no more component problems,
then yes. But remember that this is just a prototype…”
“Yes,
you’ve made that clear, we won’t string you up if it’s a dud. Not the first
time anway.” The man smiled. Kuroneko tried to smile back.
“You’ve
got a third prototype under production now?” he continued.
“Yes,
but we’re holding further components for the weaponised version. The engineers
tell me those HT superconductors are hell to work with, we’ve trimmed another
three hundred kilos off but I’m not sure how much more we can take out.”
“These
aviation types don’t look hard enough. I’ll see if I can get you some ICBM RV
designers. There’s no one better at shaving ounces.”
Kuroneko
didn’t know how this mysterious civilian was going to rustle up nuclear missile
builders and wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Both men stared out at the work in
progress.
“In
any case, you’ve been assigned a designation. EBU-5(V)1, prototypes will be mod
0, first production run will be mod 1. McAlester is turning out the casings for
you now, based on the GBU-43 supersize design study. C-17s will be providing
emergency capability until we can dedicate B-1s for the role, crews are about
to start training in Nevada. Just as soon as we can spray paint some weather
balloons black to serve as the targets.”
Kuroneko
wished he could tell when this guy was joking. Best to change the subject, the
thought.
“What
about early warning? Would you believe, the cellphone companies told us to quit
bothering them! Told us to go through the FCC, and they’re a bunch of…”
He
was cut off again. “Not a problem. I have it on good authority that they’ll be
a presidential order going out in the morning. You’ll have full access to
network diagnostics and freedom to reprogram the base stations as needed.”
“Right.
Well, that’s great. Thank you.” Kuroneko stammered. “Of course that’s just,
ahh, how do you say, ‘emergency capability’, until the production line for the
dedicated sensors is running.”
“Of
course.” The man looked at his watch. “Keep up the good work, Doctor.” He
walked briskly away, leaving Kuroneko alone.
‘Damn’,
the scientist thought, ‘now my coffee’s gone cold’.
Lady
Wood, near Grimthorpe, United Kingdom
The
big police Transit rolled to a halt on the loose gravel, stopping under the
canopy of trees at the end of the disused lane. Two police officers got out and
opened the rear doors. An unearthly humanoid form emerged, trailing oversized
bat-wings and gleaming bronze and silver in the fading afternoon light. The
silver came from the mylar blanket that the creature had wrapped around itself
like a shroud.
"Are
you ok?" Constable Matthew Hillier looked at the demon dubiously.
"Well
enough, human." She flashed a fanged grin. “Your assistance is
appreciated.”
"You're
sure this is it? There's no sign of anyone else here."
"I
was to meet them at a farmhouse, in that direction I believe." The demon
pointed into the trees, seemingly at random. "You will escort me of
course."
"Of
course." Matthew echoed. He was feeling increasingly uneasy about this.
There was something wrong here... had someone tricked the demon perhaps? To
what end? In any case they couldn't abandon her. He unslung his MP5 and moved
forward.
"That
was a close call back at the checkpoint." his partner remarked, after a
few minutes walking. “If those yobs hadn't been making a scene, they probably
would've searched us.”
“Yeah,
then we'd have had some fast talking to do.” Matthew couldn't shake the feeling
something was horribly wrong here. The more he thought about it – and for some
reason he hadn't until now – this scenario made no sense. Why where they here?
Why had they taken that creature at its word? Suddenly he realized that the
demon was no longer beside them. Clarity came a moment too late. The spray of
paralyzing darts pierced his back and for the second time his limbs went rigid
before he could draw a bead on the demon. For a moment he stood like a statue,
before falling to the ground stiffly. As he fell he saw that John had suffered
the same fate.
Lakheenahuknaasi
limped up to the paralyzed humans. They always looked so pitiful, frozen in
horror like that. And to think that they'd been trying to show her pity.
“It's
almost a shame, after you've been so helpful.” Clinically, she reached down
with a clawed hand and ripped out the first man's throat. “But I'm afraid
you've become more trouble than you're worth”. The second man was staring at
her in terror; he mumbled something, but it was too slurred for the gorgon to
tell whether it was begging or defiance. No matter. She grabbed his throat and
squeezed the life out of him. Finally giving in to her instincts,
Lakheenahuknaasi dropped to her knees and began to feast.
After
half an hour she'd had her fill. The demoness dragged what was left of the
bodies into a nearby ditch, concealed them as best she could and slipped away
into the woods.