Tales of Alterra Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

August saw black. Everything smelled like dank weed and putrid meat. His side throbbed with pain. The wurm’s gut pulsated around him.

A single bright piece of red fire poked through the wall of flesh. Elyse’s mind merged with August’s and he saw her tear through the wurm’s body. He slopped out onto the ground in a pool of acid and blood. Coughing, he stood up.

“We good?” Elyse flicked her fire lash. “Nomostros Unkin are notoriously quick eaters.”

“Can you stop it with the terminology?” August stood back to back with Elyse.

“What?” Elyse winked. “It’s my thing.” She whipped her lash around and severed the head of a gangler. “Do you know of anyone else who can name monsters off the top of their head?”

A wurm jumped out of the ground. August slashed it clean through with his blade. The skysteel shimmered with glee. “A couple of the higher ups in my guild can.”

“You mean the greenbloods’ guild?” said Elyse. She surveyed the battlefield.

All the monsters were dead, their blood coating the dirt.

“We need to get into the village.” August held his sword in front of his chest, creeping towards the village gate. “And yes. The greenbloods.”

“You’re a rare breed.” Elyse followed close behind August. “Immortal, too, if I recall correctly.”

“At the very least I’m much older than you, missy.”

“What, how old do you think I am?”

August eyed Elyse. “Not more than twenty.”

“Nineteen, actually!” Elyse did a curtsy.

August reached the village gate. It had been battered down by some large monster. The footprints told August it was a troll.

“Nimbus Marlicans.” Elyse knelt down to the prints.

“You can read the footprints?” August leaned around the corner of the palisade and took in what he could see of the village.

“Troll, right?” Elyse stood up, brushing off her skirt. She walked straight into the village.

August held her back. “Wait.” He pulled her back out. “Do you know the first rule of dungeon crawling?”

Elyse tilted her head. “What, there are rules for that?”

“Look, you don’t live for as long as I do without caution. The first rule states that if it’s too quiet, something’s wrong.”

“Quite the specific first rule, then.” Elyse snapped her whip idly.

“You understand its importance quickly when dungeon crawling.” August knelt down and untied his boot.

“What are you doing?” Elyse frowned.

August cranked back his arm and threw the boot into the middle of the town square.

Five arrows flew out of buildings and impaled the boot.

Elyse raised an eyebrow. “Waste of a good boot.”

“Better than us dying.” August took his bow off his back and knocked it. Creeping forward, he entered the village.

Elyse strolled past him with confidence. “What are you waiting for?”

“Stop!” August held out his hand.

It was too late. A troll’s club appeared out of thin air and swept towards Elyse. She ducked, dodging the club by half an inch. The club made a shrieking sound as it whipped through the air.

“Oh, I was wrong! This isn’t a Nimbus Malicans! It’s a Nimbus Invisialis!” Elyse did a cartwheel backwards.

“Hold on!” August sprinted towards the troll. He stabbed it in the stomach.

The troll laughed, grabbing the sword by the blade. Its blue blood seeped out from between its fingers.

“I got you!” Elyse’s whip flew over August’s head and wrapped around the troll’s neck. The troll gripped the lash with its free hand and then disappeared into thin air. August twisted his blade, but it was stuck fast.

The ground a foot from August cratered, sending dust flying up.

August managed to free his blade. “Camouflage.”

“No kidding.” Elyse stationed herself behind August. “The beast could be anywhere.”

August reached into his green sense and expanded his monster vision. He caught the troll’s signature down the street. Apparently whatever damage they had dealt was enough to send it packing.

“Oh no.” August sensed at least thirty ganglers and ten alzoths coming their way. “Quick, into a building.” He pushed Elyse into he nearest doorway, which happened to be the Village Elder’s home. He closed the door and locked it.

Elyse slid down the wall and sighed. “This is not what I was expecting.”

August shook his head. He crept to the nearest window and looked out.

The thirty ganglers were dragging ten or so villagers towards the town square. A portal opened in its center, sending rays of colorful light through the atmosphere.

A chilling exercise in the uncanny valley effect walked out of the portal. The figure was almost human, but enough different to send alarm bells through August’s head.

“False person.” Elyse had crept up near August.

“Not going to call it by its technical name?” August whispered.

“Not now.” Elyse pulled away from the window. “That’s not something to take lightly.” She peeked again through the window. “What are they doing with the villagers?”

The villagers were pressed onto a cart that was pulled through the portal. The false person walked alongside the cart as it disappeared into the portal.

“What are they doing with those people?” Elyse pulled away from the window. “We have to save them.”

August held her back. “And die doing so. False people are not to be trifled with.” August caught sight of a small figure hiding in an alleyway. Penny? He thought.

“Who’s Penny?” Elyse frowned. “Oh, uh, sorry. Not used to this whole mind meld thing.”

“Neither am I.” August stood up. “It should be safe now.”

They both left the house and stepped out onto the street.

“August!” Penny darted out from the alleyway. “You came for me!”

Something about Penny was different, though. She had a certain glow to her that August could not place. It was subtle, but definite.

“We need to get—” August twisted around.

Twenty ganglers walked out of an adjacent house and caught sight of the trio.

Elyse readied her whip.

“Twenty is too many.” August backed away.

“We can take them!” Elyse flicked her lash.

Penny flicked her finger and a bolt of energy flew out of her palm, striking two ganglers and disintegrating them.

“Woah,” said Elyse.

Penny stared at her finger as if transfixed. “It was true.”

“What was true?” August continued backing away from the ganglers.

Penny shook her head.

“Is that power of yours capable of getting us out of here?”

Penny frowned, and then nodded. She flicked her palm and a blinding light appeared.

“Run!”

The three of them ran. They found the town garrison and entered, barricading themselves.

The number of ganglers had increased to forty. Plus, the invisible troll had recovered.

They began beating on the door.

“Do you know what happened to your mom?” August braced the door with his back.

Penny shook her head. “That terrifying man took her.”

“What about your powers?” Elyse crept closer to Penny. “Where did those come from? That was a lot of energy you just casually threw around.”

Penny shook her head. “I can’t tell you. I promised.”

Elyse grabbed Penny by the shoulder. “We need a way out of here.”

The door reverberated as the troll beat it with its club.

“Onto the roof.” August stood up. “If we make it there we may be saved.”

“I sense it too.” Elyse stood up and grabbed Penny, picking her up. “Let’s go!”

August’s green sense had picked up a savior, in the form of a skyship. It was heading straight for the village.

August reached the second floor and pulled open the path to the attic. Just as he did, the door burst open and ganglers flooded into the building.

August hoisted Elyse and Penny upwards, following them a second later. When they were all in the attic he pulled up the stairs and closed the hatch.

“We need a way to get onto the roof.” August looked around the room. It was dusty and filled with old weapons and armor.

Elyse kicked out the only window. She squeezed through the hole and onto the wall, where she had just enough room to reach the roof.

August leaned out and tossed Penny up to Elyse. Elyse caught Penny and pulled her onto the roof. The August followed.

Three flying alzoths targeted the trio on the roof.

Elyse tried bringing one down with her whip, but failed. They moved too fast.

August took his bow and aimed. The arrow flew straight and true, but the alzoth’s thick skin reflected the arrow. It bounced and clattered to the ground.

August and Elyse went back to back.

Penny clapped her hands together and drew a flintlock gun from out of a portal. The gun floated up towards her head and sat above her shoulder. She pulled out five more guns, which formed a circle around her torso. The guns were ornate, formed with gold filigree and ivory-white stocks.

The guns fired all at once and knocked two alzoths out of the sky. The third twirled, dodging.

A single shot from a crossbow went through its head. The skyship had arrived. Its shadow floated over the burning town. It was moving at a tremendous speed, until it tacked and sidled up to the roof of the guard house, stopping right in position.  

A ladder rolled down to the roof from the skyship’s side.

Penny grabbed the ladder first, followed by August and then Elyse. The three of them scaled the ladder until they made it onto the deck of the skyship.

Elyse collapsed against the railing. “Close. Too close.”

“Let’s get out of here!” yelled August.

“No need to tell me,” said the captain. He cupped his hand around his mouth. “Get to! Full power to the engines!”

“Heh.” Elyse looked dead tired. “Never thought my own invention would save my life quite like this.”

“Your invention—” August’s mind was interrupted by thoughts from Elyse. Prototypes. Explosions. Magic and engineering. He cradled his head and knelt onto the deck.

Sorry about that, Elyse said, in his head. A little too quick.

The skyship was now fully on its way.

August gripped the side of his head as a splitting headache ran through it. He understood that Elyse had invented a way to power up the skysteel engines of a skyship, and that this vessel was equipped with such a modification, which was the only reason why they were able to save them.

The headache faded.

Elyse sighed. “Look. I don’t know what happened, but I think I know a guy who can help us.” She did not look happy about it. Her eyes were filled with conflict.

August sat down beside Elyse. “Sure. I’ve never experienced anything like this either.”

“My guy knows everything there is to know about spirits and minds. I think he can help us. “

Penny walked up to August and Elyse. “Thank you. It’s because of you that I’m still alive.”

“What happened to your parents?” asked August.

“They were taken into the portal.” Penny turned away. “And they’re gone.”

“We don’t know that yet.” Elyse stood up. “In the meantime, I can promise you that I’ll get to the bottom of whatever is happening here.”

August remained sitting. “What about your lab, and your research?”

Elyse slapped her forehead with her palm. “No, oh no. Six months of work wasted. That lab will probably never be found.”

“I don’t think we can go back.”

“And I don’t expect to. It’s just, I thought that I was going to make a difference with my invention.”

August, through their soul bond, understood a lot of what Elyse was feeling at that moment. Sadness, frustration, and disappointment. A lot of mixed feelings.

August looked across the horizon. “So where is this guy you know?”

“In the Capitol.”

“Ah, well. That’s not too bad.”

“For me it isn’t.” Elyse frowned. “And I suppose I can tell you why, since we have the time.”

Tales of Alterra Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

August sat down on a rock. “You’re an alchemist, aren’t you?”

Elyse scoffed, walking to her clothes and grabbing them off the tree branch. “You’re one to talk. You managed to deactivate my invisibility field with a single spell.”

August shook his head. “That’s not the problem. Have you been dumping waste chemicals into this river?”

Elyse shrugged. “Yeah, I have. What, is that a problem?”

August sighed, standing up. “Yes, it is. The people in the village downriver have been having a, well, a fungal problem.”

Elyse’s eyes opened. “Wait, what do you mean, downriver?”

Is this girl just incredibly unaware? Thought August. He rubbed his eyes. “There’s a village downriver. They’ve been drinking whatever you’ve been putting in this water.”

“Oh, well, I, uh.” Elyse snapped her fingers and her wardrobe wrapped around her. First came her undershirt and then the black cloak that covered her entire body, from wrists to ankles. She rolled her arms and turned to her cave. Then she turned back to August.

“Is that a skysteel sword?” she said.

August reflexively grasped his sword’s hilt. “Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

August read Elyse’s gaze and felt no malice. So he handed her his sword.

Elyse giggled and held her finger to the blade. A small ball of purple light formed underneath the finger. She ran the ball up and down the blade and then twirled the blade with surprising dexterity. “Wow.” She handed the blade back to August. “I happen to be an expert in skysteel.”

“Back to the topic at hand.” August sheathed his sword. “You. You’ve been dumping dangerous chemicals into the water.”

Elyse waved her hand. “Come with me.” She walked into the small cave between the rocks at the edge of the river. There was a ripple and then her form was gone.

August took a deep breath and then plunged in after her. The world switched instantly and he stood at the entrance of a large cave that was filled to the brim with alchemical equipment.

“I’ve been working on a serum to increase crop yields through splicing grain with mushrooms.” Elyse did a twirl in the middle of the equipment. “If it’s successful it could triple crop yields around the disk.”

“I don’t think you understand.” August walked, with caution, to the center of the laboratory.

Elyse picked up a bottle with blue liquid in it. “But it could change the world.” She put the bottle back down. “What’s a few people with mushrooms sprouting from their arms compared to millions of people who will have food on their tables where there wasn’t before?”

“Are you one to make that judgement?”

“Dunno. I’ve never thought about it like that.”

“Please, move your lab or stop dumping stuff in the river.”

Elyse picked up a pink vial. “I did, of course, come up with a cure for mycomanifestia.” She tossed it to August. “It’s right there. Rub a bit of it on the affected limb and the mushrooms will be gone. Probably. Side effects may include …” She mumbled. “And there you have it! All better.”

“I think you better come with me to help administer this stuff.” August examined the small pink vial.

Elyse sighed. “Yeah, I guess it is my responsibility.” She sighed again. “Really? Do I have to go into town?”

“You have to.”

Elyse looked nervous. “Really?”

“Is there a reason why you shouldn’t?”

“Um …” Elyse scratched her chin. “No. No there isn’t.” Her voice cracked.

August frowned. “Then let’s get going.” He paused. “You going to wear that even though it’s the middle of the day in summer?”

Elyse twirled. “It’s precisely because it’s the middle of the day in summer that I have to wear this. You see, I have very little melanin in my skin. I am an albino.”

“Melanin? Albino?” August shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s get going.”

“Ah, melanin is, you see—”

August cut Elyse off. “Later. For now we have to make haste.”

Elyse raised her shoulders and rolled her eyes. Then she followed August out of the cave and into the river clearing.

The two of them followed the riverbank down towards Dunhollow.

August’s greenblood sense picked up something he did not want to see. A slight fog covered the ground, and the temperature suddenly dropped ten degrees. Elyse pulled her cloak to herself.

“It’s the middle of the day in summer, right?”

“It’s supposed to be.” August took out his skysteel sword. It hummed, the sure presence of a monster. “Dangermuff.”

Elyse froze, her eyes widening. “No way!” She seemed to be much more excited then scared. “Anfalus Hypnogogus! In the flesh! A real—” Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed to the ground.

August knelt down beside her. The fog deepened. The dangermuff was on the hunt. Elyse’s eyes opened huge. They were glazed over, showing that she was not in control of her body. She stood up like a zombie coming to life and stumbled towards the brush.

“Ah, not good, not good.” August grabbed her by the arms.

Elyse fought like a mad rabbit, scratching him with her nails and trying to bite him.

August anchored himself to a tree root and gripped Elyse. She continued to fight his embrace.

August expanded his greenblood sense and located the mind of the dangermuff.

Okay, here we go, showdown time. August leaped into the mind of the dangermuff and started smashing things. The dangermuff screamed with a psychic attack, piercing August’s ears. August couldn’t cover them because of Elyse. He fainted after a couple of seconds and everything went black.

When he woke up Elyse was still in his arms. The evening was setting in and the sun held the world in a warm orange embrace. August tapped Elyse. “Wake up.” He pushed her off his lap ad stood up, shakily.

Elyse’s eyes opened. Then she jumped up with excitement. “Holy cow! That was the first time I’ve ever been seized by Anfalus Hypnogogus!”

“You almost died.”

“It was so cool! A hallucinatory experience that rivals muskwort!”

August gripped Elyse’s arm. “You are far, far too naive to be alone in the woods.” He looked at the setting sun. “In any case, I’m taking you to apologize to the villagers and fix whatever you caused.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Wait, dangermuffs don’t hunt during the daytime unless …” He gritted his teeth. “I have a bad feeling about this.” He started jogging towards the town, scrambling through the bush and onto the main road.

“Come on! Let’s go! We don’t have much time!”

“But I want to examine the Anfalus Hypnogogus’s body!”

“You do realize they disintegrate into thought matter when they die, right?”

Elyse caught up to August, surprising him with her speed. “Yeah! But I wanted to see it anyways!”

“Not the time.” August strapped his shield to his off hand. “The village is in trouble.”

A pillar of smoke rose in the distance, right in the direction of Dunhollow.

Elyse grimaced. “This means I don’t have to fix anything anymore, doesn’t it?”

August bit his lip. “Let’s hope you’re wrong.”

A spear whistled out of the woods. August caught it with his shield hand. He glanced at the spear, stunned.

Elyse whistled in admiration.

“That was a fluke.” August tossed the spear aside.

A monster known as a gangler emerged from the shadows. Then another, then two more. They were monkey-ish creatures, walking with their arms dangling low, wearing nothing but loincloths. They also smelled.

Elyse took something out of her cloak. “Ooh, Sarus Indictus.”

“Can you shut up about that?” August held his sword in a guarding position.

“But this is exciting!” Elyse whipped her wrist through the air and a fire began in her palm.

The fire stretched out until it formed a devilish whip. She cracked it, sending sparks through the air.

It was August’s turn to whistle. “Where’d you get a demonic artifact from?”

“Not the time, sweetie.” Elyse flicked the whip through the air menacingly.

August turned to face the ganglers. “Well, I’m glad to have you on my side.”

A gangler charged August. August stepped aside and lopped its head off. His skysteel blade shimmered, lightened by the blood. The headless gangler collapsed to the ground.

The five other ganglers formed a circle around August and Elyse.

At that moment August lost control of his own body. Or, rather, switched control of his body with the person next to him.

He was now inside Elyse’s body. The fire whip was coming towards him. Having no experience with whips, especially ones made of demonic fire, all he could do was dodge the thing and dive to the ground.

What the hell? It was Elyse’s voice, inside August’s head.

Whoah this cloak is heavy, though August. He tried standing up and caught his feet on the fabric.

A gangler’s spear came for him and he rolled, just in time to avoid it.

Elyse—in August’s body—was swinging his sword wildly and without control. She managed to clip a gangler in the arm.

You think the cloak is heavy now? Said Elyse’s voice in August’s head. Try wearing it while traveling in the middle of summer.

Now is not the time, thought August.

Yeah, no beans, said Elyse. She tripped and collided with a gangler, tangling with it.

“What happened?” said August, in Elyse’s voice.

Then their bodies switched again. August was on the ground, staring at a gangler’s face just an inch from his.

“Hya!” he stabbed the gangler and twisted away from it. The other ganglers were rushing for Elyse.

Elyse performed a twisting, twirling kick and knocked out three ganglers at one.

“A spectral tie.” She whipped the head off of the last gangler. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one for myself.”

“What do you know of them?” August flicked his sword clean of blood.  

“Not much. Now’s not the time!”

“Ahh!” yelled August and Elyse at the same time. Their minds melded again, though this time they did not switch bodies.

Not cool, said Elyse, in August’s head. It must have been the Hypnogogus.

You mean dangermuff?

Yeah, that.

August gripped his head as a splitting headache pounded a nail into his head. He staggered. “I can’t fight like this.”

“Neither can I.”

“But the village.” August pushed the pain away. The pillar of smoke in the distance was getting larger.

Both Elyse and August looked at each other. “Not good.”

Elyse and August sprinted towards the village. They burst out of the forest and into the fields surrounding the village. The entire place was on fire. Flying alligator-like creatures called alzoths dove through the smoke. The ground rumbled. A mound of dirt popped up and started heading for them.

“A wurm,” said Elyse, flicking her demon whip.

“Yeah, no kidding.” August got into a position with his sword.

August felt a memory float into his mind. An explosion. Sadness. Lots of important people watching.

“Not now!” he said, out loud, as he waited for the wurm to arrive.

The wurm erupted from the soil and aimed its massive maw at August. August twisted, jumped, and severed the lower portion of its head. Blue blood sprayed everywhere.

Elyse leaped on top of it and wrapped her demon whip around it, the flames burning into its skin.

The wurm trembled and then came to a rest.

Three more mounds of dirt appeared and started towards August and Elyse.

“How many of these things are there?” said August. He readied for a fight.

One of the wurms disappeared, presumably to go deeper underground.

A maw opened beneath August and wet flesh surrounded him. Teeth wrenched into his armor, piercing his skin.

The wurm had got him. He was too constricted to do anything about it.

He felt the presence of Elyse, her mind’s panic, everything running through her head.

I’ll save you.

Tales of Alterra Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

August the monster hunter knelt down to check the tracks of the monster he was hunting. It was a pigglewig, a slightly higher-grade monster than your average wild boar. Still dangerous, it was powerful enough to kill an untrained man.

The tracks told him that the pigglewig had switched trails right in front of him abut twenty minutes ago. August’s green-sense told him about which direction the monster had gone in.

August crept through the underbrush. He was about to enter a forest clearing, but then stopped. The moonlight came out of the clouds above and illuminated a sleeping figure, wrapped in a deep black coat. The forest was silent. August stayed in the shadows, surveying the landscape before him.

The sleeping figure did not move. It had not sensed August’s presence, as far as he could tell.

August picked up a stone and tossed it out into the clearing. The figure did not respond. This gave August the courage to creep out of the brush and into the opening.

August approached the body. Upon closer inspection, the body was that of a girl, underneath a thick black cloak. August knelt down next to the girl and reached, gingerly, towards her.

The girl’s hand snapped out and gripped August’s arm.

“Food.”

August was baffled. “Food?”

The girl looked up and her eyes became visible, shining bright red under the moonlight. Her hair flowed down past her shoulders and was shock white, containing stars in its fibers. Her skin was whiter than the stars. August had never seen anything like it before.

“Food.”

August took off his rucksack and pulled some jerky out of it. He held it out to the girl.

The girl snatched it out of August’s hands and devoured it. She swallowed and then looked up. Her eyes opened as if she had just noticed August’s face.

“Ooh, a greenblood.” She pulled herself up onto her knees and sat down cross-legged. “Water.”

August took out his canteen and handed it to her, hesitantly.

The girl took it with a bit more grace than the food and took a long swig. “Much thanks.” She shoved the canteen back at August. She stood up and wiped down her black cloak. The cloak covered everything except her face.

The girl took out a pair of sunglasses and applied them to the bridge of her nose. “I’ll remember this.” She turned around and began walking away.

“Wait,” said August. “I never got your name.”

“Name?” the girl turned to look back at August. “Elyse.”

“My name is August.”

“Hello, August.” Elyse turned back around and disappeared into the brush.

August took a deep breath. The encounter had been strange, but it wasn’t too strange. Finding a girl collapsed due to exhaustion at this time of night was a bit out of the ordinary, but August had seen worse. He shrugged. The girl was probably just another fellow traveler. Her being alive out here at all meant that she had enough wherewithal to kill a pigglewig or two. Those who traveled these roads alone had to be able to do at least that. She had just miscalculated her provisions or something and needed a pick me up. That was what August decided to think about the affair.

August continued tracking the pigglewig. It went in the opposite direction from where Elyse had gone. Without expecting to, August stumbled onto a fried corpse where there had once been a pigglewig. It lay in a small depression, charred black all around.

What had caused this? August knelt down next to the corpse.

Someone had tried to eat it. August thought it was common knowledge that pigglewig flesh tasted like, well, rotten fish. There was no palatable way to eat it.

And yet someone had tried. The person who had tried had teeth like a human and obviously either extreme ignorance of local fauna or a dash of recklessness—or both. August sighed, turning away from the beast. Pigglewig flesh was good for one thing—making candles. The candles made with pigglewig fat burned bright, clean, and long. Now that the body was in this state there was no use for it. August began the trek back to the main road. The nearest town was Dunhollow, which was a bit of luck, since August had a good relationship with its people. Greenbloods were a rare sight here in the southern wedge and the people needed someone to deal with monsters for them.

August checked the road before making his presence known. He stepped out of the forest and onto the path. The road was an ancient construct that was formed of a strange solid rock, through which wide cracks ran, and over which a wheel passed easily. It had been there since before recorded time. Roads like these crisscrossed the world disk and, in this part of the world, were well-traveled.

August began the trek back towards Dunhollow. The moon occasionally peeked out from between the clouds and illuminated the road ahead. The nighttime ambience was calming and gave August a feeling of safety. Owls dd not call when monsters were nearby.

Finally August made it to Dunhollow. It was early in the morning, maybe three hours to sunrise. The single guard at the gate caught sight of August.

“Who goes—Oh, August. I’ll open the gates for you.” He began winching open the palisade gate. As August passed inside, the guard whispered to him:

“There’s a witch around here. Better be careful who you talk to on the roads this late at night.”

Witch? Thought August. It could be that girl I saw earlier. August shrugged. It wasn’t in his contract to hunt down humans. As a greenblood, he was worn to protect all humanity, and that meant only killing humans when absolutely necessary. This did not seem like a case of that, but August decided to visit the town elder anyways. He knew where to go, and started down the main street towards the inn. It was early, but the town drunkards were probably still nursing beers there.

The town had a single street on which sat finer houses, but most of the outlying domiciles between the center and the palisade were small hovels. The village was a small one and dealt mostly in the fur trade.

August found the inn and pushed his way inside. The place was lit by a crackling fire and the innkeeper’s daughter stood behind the counter, polishing the table.

“August,” said the innkeeper’s daughter, whose name was Freyalie. “It’s been a while.”

August sat down at an empty table. “How have things been around here?”

“No too well, actually.”

“Oh?”

“There’s been a rash of curses.”

“How so?” August made the signal for a beer.

Freyalie took a mug to the tap. “Two of our village mothers have had mushrooms sprout from their arms. Several cattle have died, and their internals were filled with the same kind of mushroom.”

“Is Penny okay?”

“She’s fine.” Freyalie brought the mug to August’s table. “As good as any teenaged daughter could be.”

August took the mug. “I heard there was a witch.”

“You don’t do those things, do you?” Freyalie returned to the bar counter and leaned on it. “You’ve always said no to killing bandits around here.”

“I only kill humans when absolutely necessary. A witch poisoning a well or two with mushroom sickness doesn’t count for that.”

Freyalie sighed. “Well, I’d feel better if you at least investigated.”

“I also don’t do these things without pay.”

“Well, we’ll wake Village Elder when the sun comes up, see what he has to say about these things.” Freyalie picked up a rag and began wiping, even though the bar was exceedingly clean.

August nursed his beer until the sun came up. Being a geenblood meant that he only had to sleep once every three or so days. When the sun was light enough to see by, he paid his tab, left the inn, and went to Village Elder’s house.

Edwin, known around town as Village Elder, was the man appointed by the local baron to handle Dunhollow. He was a respected man because of his character, but that respect came with a distance. He was, after all, the one in charge of punishment and taxation.

August knocked on the fine wood-framed door. The butler opened the door and nodded.

Two minutes later August was in the sitting room watching a fire burn in the magnificent fireplace.

Edwin came into the room in his nightclothes.

“You’re early.”

“I am.”

“I can never get used to you greenbloods.” Edwin took a cigar out of a humidor and cut it.

“It’s not my problem.”

Edwin examined the cigar before lighting it. He puffed. “Well, I wasn’t saying it was. In any case, I know why you’re here. The witch?”

“I appreciate you understanding.”

“And you won’t kill her.” Edwin puffed, blowing a smoke ring.

“No. But was hoping that you’d let me deal with her, for a price, of course.”

“How would you deal with a witch without killing it?” Edwin examined the ash at the end of the cigar.

“Perhaps she can be persuaded to leave.”

“And you think you can do that?”

August frowned. “You doubt me?”

“I’ve always been impressed with your results.” Edwin paused. “Go ahead. I’ll pay you when she’s gone and the curse is reversed.”

“Two gold.”

Edwin sighed. “Always a stickler, you are. One gold.”

“One gold one silver.”

Edwin stretched out his arm for a handshake. “Deal.”

August shook his hand. “Deal. I’ll have her dealt with by sunset.”

Edwin stood up and walked to the window. “In the meantime, I have village stuff to attend to.” He looked at his nightgown as if he were surprised to be wearing it. “Well, first I must change. Go on, do your thing.” He waved his hand.

August stood up and left the sitting room. He passed the butler as he left the house and exited onto the street. He caught sight of Freyalie, carrying water, accompanied by Penny.

Penny was a red-haired girl of about fifteen who August had known for quite some time.

“August!” said Penny, waving.

August waved back. “Heyo. How have you been?”

“My mother has been teaching me spinning recently.” Penny frowned. “But I hate it. It’s so boring, I don’t like it.”

Freyalie pinched Penny’s arm. “Not in front of everyone.”

Penny made a face. “Well, it’s the truth.”

August made the best face he could given the situation.

Freyalie sighed, pulling Penny with her. She turned to look back at August. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ll be there,” said August. He turned and walked towards the village entrance.

Once outside the village he turned on his greenblood sense and searched for magic residue. He noticed a faint spell aura to the west and, for lack of a better target, headed that way. It happened to be upriver, and he traveled alongside its edge. On a whim, he knelt down and touched the water.

The water was not pure. It had the distinct note of magical contamination. This was probably what had been turning the cows into mushroom farms. Someone was up the river, polluting it with chemicals of some sort.

August stood up, wiping his hand carefully on his handkerchief. He folded it and returned it to his pouch before continuing up the river.

He reached a small waterfall rapids where the flow was considerably increased. There were a pile of stones next to the riverbank.

He had a hunch. Holding up his hand, he created an antimagic field and expanded it.

Right in front of him, hanging on a branch, were a woman’s underwear. And standing in the water, with one arm covering herself, was a girl August recognized. Her other hand was pointed at him and contained a deadly ball of fire.

“Oh,” said Elyse. She lowered her hand. “It’s you.”

Spacetrail Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

Serth sat atop his god throne. One hand upon his scepter, he had a full view of the naval engagement spread out between Ulius IV and VI. Thousands of capital-class ships hacked it out against each other, catching orbits and flying at significant portions of the speed of light. The panorama was much like watching a piece of radioactive material boiling off in a cloud chamber.

Serth’s chief strategist, Morion, turned to him.

Morio bowed. “My lord. The field is ready for your Geiss.”

Serth stood up. His god-power, granted to him by the chief deity of the human pantheon, was a powerful fate-altering weapon that could change the speed of light in a localized bubble about the size of a solar system. If the change happened fast enough, relative speeds would change and confuse anyone doing spatial calculations without prior knowledge of the Geiss’s effect. This would cause a serious advantage for the side of humanity.

Serth swept his hand in front of his chest. “Those triptifilexians will meet my wrath.” He closed his eyes and altered reality.

Light speed distortions that normally only occurred during warp travel sprung into being everywhere throughout the battlefield. A good portion of the triptifilexians’ ships were immediately disabled. The human forces combed through the remainders and began mopping up.

At once every third human in the command room fell to the ground in agonizing pain. Serth was not affected—being of god flesh—but Morion was.

Morion clutched his neck. “Master,” he babbled. “It hurts.”

Serth knew exactly who had done this. The triptifilexians had a god on their side as well. Someone from the pantheon of pain. Serth prepared for a showdown in metaspace. He flicked his fingers and entered the warp realm. This realm was, first and foremost, the playground of the gods. He saw, on the other end of the distorted space, a monstrous being that had to be the triptifilexians’ deity. Serth addressed the monstrous creature in god-speech.

“You.” Serth flew towards the being. He could tell nothing from looking at the thing. It was a mix between a beetle and a lizard. No distinguishing characteristics at all that a human could understand.

The beast-god spoke with a tongue that clicked and clacked with menacing undertones. However, due to god-speech, Serth understood him.

“My friend.” The trip’ clacked its mandibles together. “Do you not wish to spread your religion?”

“I am a god, so of course I do.” Serth flew closer to the enemy god. He began circling the trip’.

The trip’ opened an orifice and a blue gas escaped. “Then why do you begrudge me my religion?” It clacked its foot claws against the warp space.

“All you do is cause pain.” Serth landed on the platform the trip’ was standing on. “Your species are a menace. You torture your prisoners—our civilians—with methods that would cause our worst serial killer to vomit at the sight.”

“And so what of it?” The trip’ watched Serth with all of its eyes. “Your species is soft, like the underbelly of a groxian.”

“Your slaves?”

“We would not call them such.”

Serth sat down in lotus position. The rule of god to god interaction was ironclad, even between species that were diametrically opposed. Serth would not be hurt. “You co-evolved with them. And yet you treat them horribly.”

“They are a species that needs hardening.” The trip’ sat down across from Serth. “Our species, who you call triptifilexians, are a species who grew up with six sentient co-evolved competitors. Do you know why we ended up on top? When a dianod has carbon fiber armor and a crax has claws with ten tons of force? What did we, the triptifilexians have? We had pain. Pain is to us a loving mother. It takes care of its children and we are its evangelists.”

“But we don’t like pain,” said Serth. “We have tried to tell you that over and over.”

“Did you know that, as we have found, the triptifilexian nervous system is ten times more sensitive than that of a human’s?”

Serth blanched. He knew what kind of tortures the trips’ inflicted on every sentient being they encountered.

“We have tried to negotiate.” The trip shifted its weight. “We have tried to be peaceful.”

Serth stood up. “And your peace is our hell.” He turned away. “In any case, the UN space force seems to have won this battle.”

“Farewell.” The trip’ left first.

Serth stared at an empty warp zone. He sighed, and then returned to his ship’s bride. Less than a second had passed for the people down there—relativity did that kind of thing.

“Are your pnumann okay?” Serth stood up from his god throne.

Next to his throne was another seat, reserved for the ambassador of the pnumann race. It was, for lack of a better descriptor, a very well decorated fish tank. The pnumann were a species about the size of a sea monkey but with full sentient-level intelligence. Their brains were hydraulic instead of organic. They also worked really well together with humans, whose blood vessels were a cozy crawl space for these little tykes. They formed a perfect symbiotic relationship with humans and most other humanoid races allied with the UN, though humans were their favorite because their blood ph was closest to the pnumann homeland. It helped having a trained doctor plus EMT crew inside every important human officer, ready to act at a moment’s notice. A typical human could host over ten thousand pnumann without suffering ill effects.

The pnumann ambassador spoke through his amplification device.

“I’m okay. It looks like the psychic wave only affected you terrans.”

Serth knelt beside Morion. “Do you think your people can handle it?”

The pnumann ambassador was silent. “We do not do well with the human nervous system. It appears that the attack made against us has disrupted that on a fundamental level.”

“Are your people okay?”

“They are intact, yes.” The pnumann ambassador stepped out of his fishtank and into his mech suit, about the size of a Guinea pig. The mech strutted over to where Serth was kneeling beside Morion.

Morion groaned. “My lord,” he said.

Serth pulled out his best healing magic. “It appears that their psychic wave attack only affected a quarter of our men.”

Morion coughed. “My lord, save your magic for someone else.

The pnumann ambassador walked up to Morion’s shoulder. “You are the lynchpin of the chain of command.”

“Right, Sir Bloop.” Morion looked at Serth. “If you have to heal me, do it now.”

Serth healed Morion with god magic. “And you have a lot of work to do. The battle still rages.”

The healing aura surrounded Morion and every other person on the bridge. The light exploded with intensity and, when it was gone, the effects of the psychic blast were nullified.

“I’m getting feedback from the other vessels,” said Maki, the helmsman, who had not been affected by the blast. “We’re making a pursuit. Soon we’ll be able to begin land based operations.”

“Even with orbital superiority it’s going to be difficult,” said Morion, climbing back up and returning to his post.

Serth returned to his god throne. “That’s it. We have them now and are on the path to victory.”

The cleanup lasted two local hours, though it was vastly different for those on the clipper vessels that routinely traveled close to light speed.

Serth called his counsel together to prepare to make the next step.

“The arch-god Demonis has scheduled a visit with our fleet,” said Morion, holding a tablet device. “While we conduct cleanup operations we will need to prepare for his arrival.”

“Wills, take care of that.”

Wills saluted and left the room.

Serth put his chin into his hand. “We need something special for this land operation. The planet is mostly jungle and it’s going to be difficult going. Do you think we should bring in the Ionians?”

“You’re our god,” said Morion. “You make the decisions.”

Serth thought for a minute. “We’ll call them in,” he said.

“It will take two medium cycles for them to arrive,” said Morion, checking his tablet.

“Then we have time,” said Serth. “I want to have a foothold on the planet before they arrive. We need to make our best welcome.”

“And Demonis?” said Morion.

“Give him the full treatment,” said Serth. “I’m a minor god, after all. He outranks me by several levels, and even then I wonder why he’s bothering to come and inspect a small fleet like ours.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Morion. “We’ve been having pretty good results so far.”

“And that’s just because of luck. We are lucky we keep getting paired with trip’ gods that are not specialized for combat. I have a feeling that our fleet is very low on the trips’ priority list.” Serth took a tablet from a slot on his chair.

“Is that a problem?” Morion began pacing back and forth.

“No, no.”

A man entered the bridge. “It looks like they’re routed.” He saluted.

Serth pursed his lips. “As we expected. But there’s one problem. Why was it so easy?”

Morion clasped his hands behind his back. “Perhaps because this planet is not of much strategic import.”

“Is that it?” Serth rested his chin on his fist. “I think there’s something else going on here. Something I don’t know about. They must be giving us this planet for a reason.”

“They lost.” Morion did an about face. “That’s all we have to worry about, yes?”

Serth leaned to the side. “It makes sense.” He looked out the window at the blackness beyond. “And yet it doesn’t. Our track record is clean. Too clean, if you ask me.”

“Then we keep it that way.” Morion stopped in his tracks. “Let’s interrogate a prisoner or two.”

“We don’t play by their rules.” Serth frowned. “We do not torture prisoners.”

“I was not suggesting that.” Morion lifted his chin. “Those trips’ are notoriously hard to torture anyways. They always act like they enjoy it, and never spill the beans.”

“In any case, no.” Serth stood up. “I’ll begin the inspection.”

He walked up to the bridge’s communications table. “I want a report.”

Admiral Kong replied. “Your magic really did the trick, my lord,” he said. “They were so confused by the miscalculations that they practically exploded their own ships.”

“We don’t be able to use that trick again.” Serth leaned closer to the mic. “Those trips’ are nightmarishly adaptable.” He paused. “By the way, do you know anything about the triptifilexians co-evolving with six other sentient species?”

“Well, didn’t we also do that? Neandertals and all that?”

“No, I’m talking about a predator-prey relationship. I got the feeling from talking with their god leader that they are so tough because they fought sentient hunters that were constantly after their flesh.”

“And why are you discussing this with me?”

“I need input.”

The comm clicked off. Another god, Brim, teleported into the bridge, freezing time as he did. He made the symbol of the gods. “Serth. Heaven has requested you return immediately. There are things we need to discuss.”

Serth surveyed the frozen interior of the spaceship. Only high level gods could freeze time like so.

“I’ll come with you.” Serth surrendered himself, ready to be restrained. Except, he wasn’t.

“There are many things you need to know.” Brim turned away. “Come.”

The portal opened with a rip and Brim stepped through. Serth hesitated for a moment and then followed suit. He was teleported back to beautiful terra heaven, the home of the human pantheon. The place was teeming with life, both deity and not. Shops selling all manner of goods lined the streets of the welcome entrance.

Brim ignored everything and brough Serth to the hall of the angels, the home of heaven’s bureaucracy.

Brim stepped in. “Wait here.”

Serth waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he waited.

Zed Space Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

“I cannot morally allow my men out there,” I said, to the woman whose son was missing. “It’s suicide. We barely made it as it is.”

The woman got onto her knees. “Please, please,” she said. “I know he’s still alive. I know it.”

I looked to the civilians. “Does anyone want to volunteer for a possibly suicidal rescue mission?” I said.

No one stepped forward. I turned to the woman. “I apologize,” I said. “We can’t go back out there.”

The woman broke down into tears. I turned away, unsure of how to console her. To keep my mind from that I began the integration process. We had just acquired two hundred more civilians who needed to be tested for the virus. Alice and Jacob took care of that while I surveyed the fifty or so civvies who had been chosen to be part of our militia while we were gone.

“You lot are not soldiers,” I said, “And I do not expect you to perform like you are. But I do expect a certain level of competence from all of you. If you fail, you die. Do you understand?”

The militia members attempted a salute. It was crude, but I wasn’t going to push that, as all we needed were bodies with guns.

I could hear the woman who lost her son wailing in the background. I tuned it out.

“We are going to have to defend against major attacks,” I said. “This planet is level one infected,” I said. “There are five levels. If we get to three before rescue arrives, we’re toast no matter how many guns we have.” I walked up to my pod and tapped it. “In here, spatially stored, is everything we need to survive for the next month. It’s possible that we may get a resupply. But until then this is what we got.”

I turned to Garret. “Find everyone who is a mechanic or has mechanical expertise.” I turned back to the civilians. “If everything goes well, we may be able to retake some of the city. There are doubtless hundreds of pockets of survivors who are awaiting rescue by us. This particular city has been seeded with fifteen drop trooper squads.”

Orange, the leader of Salamander squad, approached me. He saluted. “Salamander squad is all accounted for. We are beginning rescue of Ms. Liber’s son.”

I paused. “You’re doing it?” I said.

Orange nodded. “We have a duty to save as many people as possible.”

“He’s most likely already dead,” I said.

“We don’t know that,” said Orange. “But it’s beside the point. This current situation is bad for morale.”

“I’m not your commander,” I said, “So you go ahead. I’ll be supporting you. I’ll get my sniper on point to keep overwatch.” I waved at Jacob. “Hey, private,” I said.

Jacob saluted. “Need me, Lieutenant?”

“I need you to provide overwatch for Salamander squad’s rescue attempt.”

“Sure thing,” said Jacob. He shouldered his high power sniper rifle.

“Your priority is mutants,” I said. “Salamander squad can handle any regular dorks that come their way.”

“Yes sir,” said Jacob. He turned. “I think I see the best vantage point.” He pointed towards the VIP lounges. “They have a good line of sight over the surrounding city.”

“Get to it,” I said.

Jacob saluted and started walking towards the suites. Salamander squad, with Orange at the front, went towards an entrance on the other side of the stadium. Since the truck entrance we had used before was surrounded by the zombies we attracted with our rescue mission, this was the most logical way to proceed.

“Good luck,” I said. “You’ll need it.”

Orange saluted and started towards the exit. I watched them go and then turned to the civvies who had been selected for militia duty.

“You’re going to have to become fit,” I said. “It takes a lot of speed and endurance to outrun a sprinter.” I began walking back and forth along the line of militia members. “There are three mutants we will have to worry about in the near future,” I said. “Jumpers are the least dangerous. If you spot them first it’s usually easy to take them down. However, if they catch you unprepared, you’ll surely get bit. Jumpers hold you down while the ordinary folk bite you to pieces. They are rather stupid and not nearly as scary as hunters. But we won’t have to worry about those boys until we hit level three infection.” I continued walking. “Sprinters. These zed heads can move fast, like their name suggests. They also have a lot of stamina and endurance. The best thing to do when you see a sprinter is to run and gun. That means you run while simultaneously firing your weapon. Eventually they will go down. Aim not for their head but for their limbs. Sprinters are too fast moving for you to reliably get a head shot, and the best bet is to disable them instead.” I stopped, and performed an about face. “And then we have fats. A fat is a zombie that has secreted a special tissue that absorbs kinetic energy. They are almost impossible to take down with small arms fire, but are very slow. The best way to deal with these is an anti-tank weapon. Thankfully for you, we have a couple. And by a couple I mean over a thousand rounds.” I tapped my feet together. “Any questions?”

A militia member raised his hand. “What about armor?” he said.

“Meaning?” I said. “Vehicles or personal?”

“Personal,” said the man.

“We’ve brought enough,” I said. “Even spatial packing has a limit, however, so we have to be sparing about it. I will issue armor to every second member of this militia. If you want to be one of those people, work hard during training.” I clapped my hands. “All of you. We’re doing a hundred laps around the stadium.”

There was less resistance than I had expected for that. I suppose everyone realized that their lives were on the line. We needed to be fit to fight this war.

I led the jog. This first one would be without equipment, but eventually we would do twice this distance with a backpack full of equipment.

Alice joined me along the run.

“You don’t have to be here,” I said. “Don’t you have other things to do?”

“It’s been a day since my last good run,” said Alice. “There’s not much running space on a ship.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. Alice and I continued to run in silence.

After fifty laps I could tell that the militia was having a hard time. This was nothing for me, of course, but I decided to cut it short.

“You lot have no endurance,” I said, as I ended the run. “You’re zed bait, all of you.”

The militia looked as if it had been pushed to its limit. I had probably set the bar too high with a hundred laps to start.

But it was time for me to be evil. “Two hundred pushups, all of you! Then two hundred squats and two hundred crunches!”

I watched as the militia strove to do what I had told them to do. When they were done, they were exhausted down to the man. I strutted around in front of them. “In an hour we are going to practice our shooting. Don’t worry about ammunition usage. We have brought plenty.”

The hour passed without much fanfare. When my stopwatch beeped I ushered the militia onto the less inhabited side of the grass field. During the break hour my squad had assembled.

Just before the practice began, Salamander squad returned.

Orange jogged up to me. When I tilted my head he shook his.

“He didn’t make it?” I said.

Orange frowned. “We couldn’t save him. He had already turned by the time we found him.”

The mother’s wailing echoed in my mind. I sighed. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Orange saluted and so did I. I returned to my militia members. “If you want to be able to save people like that,” I said, “Then you had better become good marksmen. I expect all of you to become experts before the month is up.”

“Sir!” shouted the militia.

The shooting practice began. The guns were loud, and would probably attract many zed heads to our position, but there was no substitute for live fire training. I walked along the line of men and women, correcting the posture of the people who were doing it wrong. When half an hour had passed I stopped the practice.

“You’re done for today,” I said. “Go home and be with your families.” I chuckled. “Well, there’s not much home here anymore.”

There was a huge rumbling and the ground began to shake. I stabilized myself, but a lot of the militia members stumbled and fell.

“That was probably the West Tarthing fusion plant,” I said, shielding my vision against the sudden flash of bright light that enveloped the city.

When the light receded, a pillar of black smoke rose from across the city.

“Who knows how many people died in that explosion,” I said.

I turned away. “It’s dinner time.”

The line for the evening meal had already formed. We were rationed a small amount of real food, but most of our nutrition for the next month or so would be Soylent, a super-rich energy paste. Thankfully the designers of the stuff had come up with over a hundred flavors, but even so it was tough to subsist on mush.

The real food today was a bowl of rice and a small piece of dried meat. For my Soylent flavor I chose Red Cherry Surprise, ™. It was one of my favorites.

The Soylent machine resembled a self-service soda fountain that you would find in a civilian fast food restaurant. You chose a flavor from the digital panel up top and placed your cup beneath it. It took thirty seconds to fill and then you had a fully balanced nutritional food substitute to keep you going for the next twelve hours.

I savored my rice and meat before sucking up the tube of Soylent.

It looked like the civvies did not like the idea of Soylent. Since I was a soldier, I was conditioned to eat this stuff, but to a civilian used to McFanks and such, it was a huge step down.

But food is food, and over a Hundred Wonderful Flavors ™ was not something to snuff at.

I sucked down my Red Cherry Surprise ™ and placed the cup inside my personal cube storage for reuse next meal time.

Alice came by me and sat down with her food. She took a small bite of rice and then a large swig of Chocolate Moon ™. Sighing, she leaned back on the astroturf.

“Another mission, another city lost,” she said. “I know this mission is worth something but I can’t help remembering Anelise.”

“Yeah, that was a disaster,” I said. I ate my last grain of rice. “But I think we’re going to do well this time around. The militia is looking good and we have the speedmakers.”

“It’s experimental equipment,” said Alice. “We’re the navy’s guinea pigs.”

“And I couldn’t be happier,” I said. “We have the good stuff and because of that we may be able to survive until the navy comes.”

“Hey, I have something to tell you,” said Alice. She looked around to make sure we were far enough separated from the others. “I think this planet may be progressing in infection level a lot faster than normal.”

I looked up at the smoke from the fusion power plant. “May be,” I said. “But our job is to survive despite that.” I stood up. “And that’s what we’re going to do.”

Zed Space Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

I shivered. The drop zone was hot. My suit suctioned onto my skin and inserted simultaneously the catheter and the adrenal stimulant probe. The ship’s engines droned behind the bulkhead. My five squad mates donned their drop trooper helmets. I was the last to put mine on.

I stepped into my pod. The door slid shut with a pneumonic hiss and the air pressure equalized. My ears popped. The floor dropped out beneath me and I began my freefall descent into the city.

The city was burning. Fires consumed skyscrapers and explosions were up everywhere.

The civilian population had been holding on for three months without support from outside. We were fighting a war, after all.

I could now see the swarm of zombies that had been detected around the drop zone. We were tasked to land in the middle of Hyatt Stadium, a refugee crisis zone that was still, somehow, holding out against the onslaught. At least a thousand civilians were hunkered down in the green field, barricaded against the zombies.

The planet was at level one. That meant that there were few mutations and the hivemind had yet to insert itself. It wasn’t the worst place I had been inserted in the last year.

My pod streaked through the atmosphere and came closer to the drop zone. I was able to make out individual civilians. They looked up at us as we came down and spread away from the marked landing spots.

My pod smashed into the astro turf and I kicked out the door. I was the second to land. Jacob had been the first and was already unloading supplies.

The other four pods fell in quick succession. Dirt spattered the tents the civilians had been using for shelter.

About two dozen civilians approached me.

“Alice!” I said, turning to my squad mate. “Help me distribute the rations!”

“Yes, sir,” said Alice.

I was the squad’s lieutenant. That meant I was in charge. We had two months worth of rations space-packed in our pods. With the press of a button they returned to full size.

The civilians looked like they hadn’t eaten in days. We prepared meals and handed out the food with little incident.

“Who is in charge here?” I asked, surveying the eating people.

An old man stood up and approached me. “My name is Mick,” he said. “Is the army coming?”

“We are the army,” I said. “This city has been deemed low priority. Our only mission is to protect you until other objectives have been taken and some evacuation vessels can be spared.”

“How much longer until then?” said Mick.

“A week?” I said. “A month? Who knows?”

“Are we going to survive?” said a man in a tattered suit.

“As long as you don’t let any infected in here,” I said. “Before we go any further, we’re going to have to inspect everyone for bites.”

“There’s no one bitten in here!” said Mick. “We made sure of that.”

“We can never be too certain,” I said. I motioned to Ryce, my machine-gunner. “Set up the examination table.” I turned to Alice. “You’re the only girl in this squad. Check up on all the female civilians.”

“Yes sir,” said Alice.

Alice helped me set up our examination device, which had been spatially packed along with the rations. It was a scanner that took a blood biopsy and instantly told us whether or not the tested person was infected. All it required was a small prick on the finger.

Alice set up a large tent that had been spatially packed alongside everything else and had the women line up outside of it. She did their checkups, which required her to remove all their clothing. This wasn’t so much to discover infected people but to make sure that everyone was healthy.

One man refused to get his blood tested by the machine.

“Hey, you can’t do this to us,” he said, as a number of other civilians wrestled with him. “You can’t force us to give up our genetic information!”

I walked towards him. “I’m just a soldier,” I said. “I don’t know anything about the law. But right now I’m in charge. If you think we’ve wronged you, you can bring it up in court when we’ve gotten out of this mess.”

“But we won’t!” said the man. He continued to struggle. “We’re not going to make it!”

I grabbed his arm. “You have to get tested. If you’re not, we’re going to have to expel you.”

“You can’t!” said the man. “My family is here.”

I dragged him towards the testing machine. It took a bit of effort, but I got his blood sample.

It came back positive.

“I’m sorry,” I said, turning away from the console. “You’ve been infected. We’re going to have to quarantine you.” I turned to Ryce. “Bring me an isolation bunker.”

Ryce called forth the isolation bunker from spatial storage. It was about the size of a port-a-potty and heavily armored with superplastic. Garret, our engineer, grabbed the man and pushed him into the isolation bunker.

The man was crying. He didn’t fight. Ryce pushed him into the chamber and sealed it. The chamber was designed so that people could communicate with the person inside, but he was locked in there until he turned.

Two girls and a lady approached the isolation bunker, all crying. The one I presumed was the mother broke down in front of the view window and cried.

“It’s okay, honey,” said the man. “I was stupid and got bit while foraging. There’s no coming back from this.”

Indeed, the zombie virus was impossible to cure and had a one hundred percent fatality rate. There was no escaping it. Planet after planet was lost to the zombie invasion. The only thing we could do was slow it down.

We tested the rest of the two hundred and eleven people in the stadium. They all came back clear.

While I was testing the people, James and Jacob, two private first class squad members, were checking up on the barricades. The stadium had metal doors that locked shut on every entrance. They wouldn’t stop a bull but they were good enough against level one infected.

Jacob returned from his patrol. “Everything is in place,” he said, saluting. “There are no breaches. The civilians did a good job of securing the stadium.”

“Are we going to save more people?” asked a woman, who approached me from behind.

I turned instinctively and pointed my service pistol at her.

“Oh,” I said, returning my pistol to its holster. “Ahem, yes. We are going to try and save as many people as we can, before the infection level increases and we start seeing mutants. After that it will be too dangerous to be out there without armored support.”

“But the army is coming for us, right?” said the woman.

“I can’t say I know when they’ll come,” I said. “Like I mentioned before. We could be here for weeks or even months. We have prepared for that and have plenty of food and tools in spatial storage.”

“So we’ll be here for a bit,” said Alice. She saluted to me. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“Good,” I said. “It’s time to start training.”

“Already?” said Jacob.

“We don’t have any time to spare,” I said. “We need these civilians to become soldiers.” I turned to Mick. “With your permission, we’re going to start arming and training you and your people to fight.”

“We will do everything you say,” said Mick. “We had lost all hope. Now we have it.”

A transmission came though my suit communicator. “This is Salamander squad. We’re in need of immediate assistance. Two hundred civvies are about to be lost along with this squad. Our location is—” The caller noted out a place not too far from our drop zone.

“Looks like it’s time for our first mission,” I said. I turned the Mick. “I need twenty strong individuals who can handle guns.”

Mick looked around at the civilians gathered in front of us. “I can do that.”

He took five minutes to single out twenty people, mostly men.

I took twenty guns from spatial storage and handed them out. “We’re going to rescue another squad and about two hundred people,” I said. “Without our resources we can handle twice that for a month.”

“What about after?” said a woman.

“We’ll figure that out,” I said. “If the army or navy can spare resources, we may get a supply drop. Just wait and do what you’re told.”

“Okay,” said the woman.

“Alice, Ryce,” I said, turning to my squad. “You stay here and protect the base. Also, set up the comm tower and start the selection process for training.”

I took Jacob, Garret, and James with me. We walked to the unloading bay. I poked a camera out of a small barred window. There were about a dozen zombies behind the metal screen, but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. I motioned to the two strongest-looking civvies.

“Open that door when I tell you to,” I said. “When they come, we shoot. Then we make haste to the rescue point.”

“What about vehicles?” said Jacob.

“We can’t be driving around out there,” I said. “The roads are clogged and we don’t have any that would fit two hundred plus people. We’re going to have to do this on foot.”

The twenty civvies prepared, aiming their guns at the door. Jacob and I knelt next to the chain and unlocked it.

“One,” I said. “Two, three.” We lifted the truck door and backed away as the civvies started shooting. Two minutes later all twenty dead heads were on the ground.

I looked both ways. There were only a couple zombies here and there, attracted by the gunshots. No herds, no hoards, no mutants.  A good day to be rescuing a squad and two hundred civvies.

I led the group through the streets, with Jacob holding down the back and James and Garret in the middle. We walked for ten minutes until we came to a nondescript high rise. I held up my hand and used my camera to look behind the corner. There were at least a thousand of them, including two first level mutants. I could take them, perhaps, but with all those dead heads clogging up my line of fire I didn’t know if I could make the shots.

These mutants were of the jump/grab phenotype. They had powerful frog-like legs and long arms for grabbing a tearing into their victims. I was, of course, lucky to be encountering only these and at these low numbers.

I signaled to my squad. James took a number of civvies out another way and I called up Jacob to set up a sniper position.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said. “We’re going to lure the bulk of the dead away from the building. While they’re distracted, we take out the mutants and save the people in the building. We good?”

The civvies nodded. At that moment the distraction began. Fireworks exploded from across the street, taking the attention of the zombies with it. Jacob fired his sniper rifle and took out the first mutant. The second mutant locked onto me and I took it out with a headshot before it could jump.

We rushed past the gap made by the distracted zombies and knocked on the door. The leader of Salamander squad jumped out and surveyed the scene.

“Textbook,” he said, as he began waving. Civilians streamed out of the opening.

“Go, go,” I said, also waving the civilians along. Two members of Salamander squad brought their spatial storage cubes with them. We retreated through the streets leading the civvies like a herd of cattle.

When we returned to the safe zone we got behind the truck gate, waited until everyone was through, and then locked it shut.

Tess, the leader of Salamander squad, began a head count.

A woman approached me. “I can’t find my son,” she said. “I think he’s still out there.”

“Oh boy,” I said, looking through a peephole at the crowd of zombies approaching the gate. “This is going to be difficult.”

War of the Portal Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

It was Simon’s day off. All he wanted to do was buy a couple packs of his favorite card game at the game store, maybe draft a few games and hang out with his friends. Sure, it was weird for a tenured professor in the field of medieval linguistics and culture to be playing a trading card game, but he enjoyed it and did his best to connect with the twenty-somethings in his local game store. He had built the ultimate blue-green ramp deck the other day and wanted to try it.

Before heading to the shop, he decided to check out Times Square. Christmas 2015 was in full swing. The Rockefeller tree had been put up. Snow drifted peacefully to the streets. The place was as crowded with tourists as it always was.

Hands in pocket, Simon began reciting a lay in middle English. It was a pastime he had a habit of playing around with. After all, he had written his thesis on Beowulf.

The crowd flowed around him. Watching the advertising screens above him, he wondered if he was going to have the time to return to his family back in Wisconsin. Flights weren’t cheap this time of year and he didn’t know if he would make it through a ten hour drive.

Something felt wrong. The energy of the crowded tourist landmark changed. The air suddenly became crisp. It was as if the whole world had held its breath.

Four columns in the classic Greek style appeared out of shimmering light. A roof, comparable to the Parthenon, materialized on top. Something monstrous roared. Dragons—real dragons—spilled out of the opening, ridden by warriors in medieval armor.

A column of calvary marched out from beneath thew dragons.

“His elf sumti!” yelled the man wearing the most ornate hat. He held forth a sword of incredible craftsmanship.

The square panicked. Hundreds of people turned away from the invaders and fled. The horsemen galloped across the street, striking down the fleeing citizens and tourists.

There were hundreds of horsemen and at least two dozen dragons. The dragons set fire to the advertising boards and raked their claws through the windows of the skyscrapers.

Simon backed up slowly, unsure if he should take his eyes off the invaders.

A young woman stumbled and fell, crashing to the ground. A horseman headed straight for her, ready to trample her into the concrete.

Simon dashed for the woman and picked her up with the power of adrenaline. He sprinted away, carrying her, and turned into an alleyway where a dozen people were hiding.

“Move, move,” he shouted.

He let go of the girl. She was in hysterics, and couldn’t communicate.

Simon turned back towards the melee behind him. It was chaos. The dragons brought their fire breath weapons against the people who were unlucky or stupid enough to still be out in the open. Blood coated the square.

Simon decided that something needed to be done. He rushed out of the alleyway and into the center of the square. Two dozen horsemen turned to watch him.

Simon held out his hands. “Stop!” he yelled. “Please stop!”

The horsemen laughed in a way that felt foreign. They pointed their swords at Simon and began trotting towards him.

Simon held his ground. The horsemen began to circle him. They pointed their swords and continued to laugh. “Wis come it ta cursis?” said the one who appeared to be the leader.

Where is the military? Thought Simon, still holding out his hands.

A deep root took shelter in his mind. His knowledge of middle English history, his many thesis on the government of feudal France, his knowledge of the Hundred Years War.

He understood their language in a flash of inspiration.

“The otherworlder is a dunce,” said the captain. “He does not believe we shall kill him. For sure, he is merely a servant of the giants who built these glass towers.”

“I’m an American,” said Simon. “I don’t want trouble. If you go back peacefully to where you came from we will not have to kill you.”

Simon thought he heard helicopters. He just needed to hold them off for another minute. This understanding of their language was a godsend and he was not about to let it go to waste.

The captain pointed his sword at Simon. “Where are the giants?” he said. “We have come to defeat them, not their slaves.”

“There are no giants!” said Simon. “These are …” He recognized a hole in their language. “Skyscrapers,” he said, in English.

“Skyfrater?” said the captain. “What kind of childish babble is that?”

The helicopters were definitely coming. Their drone was now audible.

A dozen patrol cars swerved into the square. Cops got out and pointed their weapons.

One of the cops waved to Simon.

Simon gave them a thumbs-up sign.

“We have you surrounded,” said Simon. “Just give up. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Please return to where you came from.”

“Hah!” said the captain. “The coward is trying to negotiate. We shall not stand to be lectured by a mere slave.”

The helicopters arrived. All at once six dragons ate the full brunt of a helicopter-mounted chaingun. The policemen also opened fire.

The hail of bullets chewed through the horsemen and dragon riders like through cheese. Their iron and steel armor were nothing against a fifty caliber machine gun and rockets.

The battle was over in five minutes. For the entire time Simon was rooted to the ground.

More police cars and fire trucks arrived. Police surrounded Simon.

Simon collapsed to the ground, fainting.

He woke up in a hospital bed. A nurse was standing in the corner of the room, holding a clipboard.

“What happened?” said Simon.

“Hum?” said the nurse. “I don’t understand you.”

Simon realized he was still speaking the language of the invaders. “I’m sorry. I was asking what happened.”

“You’re a hero,” said the nurse. “You stopped the invasion and saved countless lives.”

“Me? A hero?” said Simon. “How is that possible?”

“Who knows?” said the nurse. “Somehow you were able to communicate with them, and you managed to keep them from spreading out of Times Square.”

Simon’s colleague, Dr. Mason Jonson, entered the room followed by two military men and a doctor.

The military man extended his hand. “Major Dennis Elmore,” he said.

Simon shook his hand and was startled by the strength of the man’s grip.

“You’re a hero,” said Dennis. “We have footage of you singlehandedly stalling the invasion until the military could arrive.”

“It was only five minutes,” said Simon.

“We looked into your background. You are one of the premier researchers into medieval cultures in America.”

“Why does that matter?” said Simon.

“The world behind the portal, through which the invaders came, is medieval. We’ve sent scouts through the portal and they’ve brought back enough information for us to understand what we’re dealing with.” Dennis cleared his throat. “This is a portal to a real life fantasy world. And, for some reason, you are the only one who knows their language.”

“Well, I’ve studied a number of medieval languages, and they all just came together in my head when I was faced with those horsemen.”

“And that’s why we need you,” said Dennis. “We’ve sealed the gate with an emergency lockdown module. In two weeks we will be commencing a full-scale incursion into this place. You understand their language. We have interviewed every other person who came into contact with them and you’re the only one who can speak their language.”

“It just came to me,” said Simon. “I don’t know what I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, it will be of huge service to us during our eventual incursion.” Dennis’s phone rang. He sighed. “Looks like there are already protestors around the portal.” He took the call and left the room.

Mason looked a bit awkward. “They say you’re a hero,” he said.

“I heard,” Simon said.

“And I believe them,” said Mason. “You’ve always been brave. You had to have been to advance your theories on France’s golden period.”

“Well, I suppose so,” said Simon. He stood up from his bed. “I think I’m fine. I need to get home.”

“You live alone, right?” said Mason.

“I just need to lay my head somewhere that isn’t a hospital.”

Dennis came back into the room. “Looks like we’re in need of you already,” he said. “We’ve captured a living invader and we need a translator.”

Simon sighed. No sleep for him. “Okay,” he said. “I can’t refuse, can I?”

“You’ve been designated a beneficial asset by the military. You have no choice in this matter. You could protest, but the amount of effort that would take wouldn’t be worth it.”

Simon shrugged. “I suppose I’ll take this opportunity to spread knowledge about the usefulness of medieval scholarship.”

“Good attitude,” said Dennis. “We have a jeep waiting outside.”

Simon left the room with Dennis and Mason.

Mason had his hands in his pockets as he followed Simon and Dennis.

“Why are you here?” said Simon. “Did they rope you into this as well?”

“Yep,” said Mason.

Mason’s specialty was medieval metallurgy. He had advanced several prominent theories on the formation of bloom iron into implements.

The three of them left the hospital. Dennis saluted the jeep driver and got in. Simon and Mason climbed into the back.

Dennis looked into the backseat from his position beside the driver. “Dr. Jonson,” he said, “I want you to transcribe everything Dr. Bell translates during the interrogation.”

Bell was Simon’s last name. Dr. Simon Bell.

Simon was just glad that his degree was finally being recognized as useful.

They left Manhattan and headed to Fort Hamilton. Once they got there, they unloaded and were led into a nondescript concrete building.

In one of the rooms, a bloodied and bound soldier from beyond the portal was tied up.

“You bastards,” he said. “Where are the giants?”

“There are no giants,” Simon said.

Both Dennis and Mason turned their heads in surprise.

“I was doubtful,” said Mason, “But you really seem to understand him.”

Simon rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know how it works. Language acquisition isn’t supposed to happen like this. It’s like magic.”

“You understand me, heathen?” said the soldier.

“What is your name?” Simon said.

“Brith,” said the soldier.

Simon was at a loss about what to say. Thankfully, Major Dennis stepped in.

“Translate this,” he said. “We do not want to harm you. Cooperate and you shall be taken home.”

Simon translated.

Brith spat. “You are heathens. I shall not believe you. Take me to the giants.”

“Again, there are no giants,” said Simon.

“What is he saying?” said Dennis.

“He keeps asking about giants,” said Simon. “He appears to think that they built all the tall buildings.”

“Tell him that it’s all human engineering.”

Simon translated.

Brith looked shocked. “It cannot be,” he said.

“Now ask him about his political affiliation,” said Dennis.

Simon translated.

“I am a vassal of Lord Gywimire,” said Brith. “And I am proud of it. You are nothing more than a peasant beneath his stride.”

Simon noticed that Brith used an euphemism that was untranslatable, something about goats and their milk. He shook his head.

“We do not want to harm you,” he said.

Brith spat again.

“Tell him that we are losing patience,” said Dennis. “And ask him why they attacked us.”

Brith sighed as Simon translated.

“We are conquerors,” said Brith. “We conquer. That is what we do. No less a world beyond the sacred hill.”

Simon translated.

Dennis rubbed his chin. “Ask him if his king or lord is friendly.”

Simon translated.

“Our lord will crush you,” said Brith. “You shall all be put beneath his foot.”

Simon translated, leaving out another strange aphorism.

Dennis shook his head. “Okay,” he said. He turned around. “That is all I have to say.”

He looked at me. “Try and figure him out while I call our analysts.”

He left the room, leaving me and Mason inside with the otherworlder.