by Ramy Vance
After an hour, Kravis took a break and handed the gnome over to Sarah. Torture wasn’t something she brought much passion to, but it had been part of her schooling, and Sarah had excelled in every aspect of her studies. She took her lead from Kravis, happy to not have to take charge of the situation. Similar questions were asked. Previously created wounds were nurtured with poison and open blades.
Bim-bop’s tears came and did not stop. That was when Kravis took over. He needled the gnome with questions, sometimes asking things there was no way the gnome would know. Over the next hour, Sarah watched as Bim-bop’s sanity slowly unraveled. Begging came first, then threats. It always went back to begging, yet the gnome gave up no information.
Kravis changed tactics. He unbound the gnome and threw Bim-bop onto his stomach. Then he cut down the length of gnome’s shirt and continued cutting until the cave was filled with Bim-bop’s shrieks. When Kravis finally stood, his face covered in blood and sweat, he motioned for Sarah to come over to his side. “You ever see anything like this before?” he asked, pointing at a small protrusion on the back of Bim-bop’s neck.
Sarah inspected the protrusion carefully. She had seen something similar in the necks of orcs she had decapitated. Other than that, nothing. She explained her prior findings to Kravis. They tied Bim-bop back to the rock and made themselves some tea from the leaves they found around the cave.
Kravis was oddly silent, brooding more than usual. “What are you thinking?” Sarah asked.
He jerked his thumb at the wheezing pile of flesh tied to the boulder. “I would have cracked by now,” he admitted. “I think you might have as well.”
Sarah nodded. She’d been thinking the same thing. Kravis had pulled out all the stops. It was surprising that Bim-bop was still alive. “Yeah, I might have said something by now. Maybe not all the juice, but at least something to make you back off.”
“You know, I’ve heard rumors about the Dark One’s forces. That they might not be in complete control of themselves.”
Sarah had heard similar things. Nothing conclusive. Myrddin had a lot of information concerning speculation that the Dark One was using some kind of mind control, but Sarah was uncertain. The soldiers of the Dark One were too zealous to be mind-controlled. They were almost like cultists. It was the kind adoration that required you to be of sound mind.
Kravis pulled out his dagger. “Before we lost communication with the other realms, we picked up a report that a group of Myrddin’s lapdogs had found that a group of orcs was being controlled by some kind of tech. We haven’t been able to get our hands on a corpse long enough to dissect it since we heard about that, let alone a fresh one.”
“You think it might be that thing in the back of his neck?”
“Only one way to find out. It might just be my pride, but I can’t think of any gnome who would switch sides. It’s even harder to imagine the entire orcish race swallowing their pride and serving under anyone who wasn’t an orc.”
Sarah nodded as she thought it over. It would explain a lot. “Might as well check while we have the chance.”
The pair went over to Bim-bop, who didn’t bother raising his head at their approach. Sarah undid the bindings, and the gnome fell face-first onto the ground. Kravis climbed onto his back and pressed his dagger to the base of Bim-bop’s neck.
At the feel of the blade against the small bulge in the back of his neck, Bim-bop came back to life. He began to thrash as if he’d lost control of his body, emitting high-pitched squeaks that Sarah had never before heard a gnome make. She pulled Kravis off Bim-bop, who then returned to his catatonic state. “Now that was interesting,” Sarah said.
Kravis walked around Bim-bop and said, “Interesting isn’t the word,” as he lifted Bim-bop’s head up to look him in the eye. “What the fuck was that about?” Kravis asked.
The other gnome didn’t look capable of answering. Kravis handed Sarah the dagger and she pressed it to Bim-bop’s neck again. Once the blade was near the protrusion, Bim-bop started thrashing again. Sarah removed the blade, and the gnome went limp. “Let’s find out what it is,” she said.
Kravis nodded, and Sarah bent to the task of cutting out whatever was beneath Bim-bop’s skin. The gnome struggled, showing an amount of strength unnatural to a gnomish body, but Sarah wasn’t deterred. She slid the knife under the gnome’s skin, traced the outline of the square bulge, cut four lines across the top of the protrusion, forced the blade back in, and popped out a microchip.
Bim-bop collapsed.
Sarah came around to Kravis and held out her hand. The microchip in her palm blinked once, twice before cutting off. “What in the nine realms is this?” Kravis asked.
Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Bim-bop. “Check and see if he’s still alive.”
Kravis rolled Bim-bop over and listened for a heartbeat. “Yeah, he’s still kicking.”
Sarah pulled her discus from her belt and opened it. She withdrew a small pouch of healing salve and a potion, then went over to Bim-bop and began dressing his wounds. Once she was done, she helped the gnome sit up and drink the potion.
They waited in silence, contemplating their new knowledge of the Dark One’s tactics. This changed everything. When Sarah had first heard about the possibility of mind control, she assumed it was magic. Now she wondered if this was something Myrddin had always known about. At first, Sarah was angry about not being informed about this detail, but the more she thought about it, the less she cared. It wouldn’t have made a difference either way. She couldn’t manually remove the microchips from all of her enemies.
It did leave a sour taste in Sarah’s mouth. That didn’t last long, though. She’d done things for the sake of the realms that most people would consider evil. The torture of Bim-bop hardly fazed her. Someone had to do these things, and both Sarah and Kravis were good at them.
Finally, Bim-bop opened his eyes. He instantly jumped up, away from Kravis and Sarah. For a second, it looked like he was going to run, but instead, he stopped, one foot hanging in the air as if another mind had just stepped into his head and taken control. “How…how did you do that?” he asked.
Sarah stood and handed Bim-bop another potion. “We’ll tell you our story if you tell us yours.”
For the next hour or so, Bim-bop explained that he had been abducted by an orc raiding party months ago. Long before Sarah and Kravis had joined the resistance. He had been taken to a laboratory someplace on the planet; he didn’t know where. There he had been experimented on. The scientists there were trying to crack the gnomes’ DNA sequence. He hadn’t understood much of what had been discussed but had grasped it had something to do with mind control.
That was when he was introduced to the microchip. It was implanted into the back of his head and caused the most bizarre of experiences. When Bim-bop had been affected by magical mind control, it was as if someone were forcing his body to do something he knew he shouldn’t be. He had watched himself behave as if he were a passenger in a car.
The microchip was nothing like that. Bim-bop felt in control the entire time. Further, Bim-bop knew that his values, morals, and allegiances had changed. He just thought the change was the right one.
Sarah and Kravis didn’t have to explain much at that point. Bim-bop remembered everything. He had been there, yet not been there. The concept was a little much to grasp, but Sarah heard something she believed was intensely valuable. “So, you remember everything from your time in the defense ring. When you were there being given missions and briefings. All of that?”
Bim-bop nodded as he said, “Yeah, everything. Just like if I hadn’t been under the Dark One’s control.”
“And the Dark Gates. Could you operate one?”
Bim-bop smiled. “I can do you one better. I can get you into the interior of the ring without all the sneaking. We could be at the gates in an hour, and I can send you anywhere you want.”
Sarah and Kravis exchanged glances. She wasn’t certain she could trust Bim-bop. This could
all be an elaborate con. But that was part of the fun.
Kravis wrapped his hand around Sarah’s and squeezed tightly. He must have thought the same thing.
Bim-bop hadn’t lied. He’d brought Sarah and Kravis to the heart of the Dark One’s defense center in less than an hour. They didn’t come across any guards or sentries the entire way. Once they were in the main center, Sarah’s body tensed, but they still didn’t see any guards.
Something about this was too perfect, but she wasn’t in a position to ask. She wasn’t sure of the tech and information that was meant to be passed on to Myrddin that she had teleported before the attack on the camp. There was no way she was going to leave the mission unfinished. Even if that meant taking a risk and being led into an ambush.
Silence and stealth were Sarah’s natural gifts. That didn’t mean she couldn’t fight her way out of a fix. And Kravis was with her. Even if he was quiet and kind, Sarah still hadn’t met anyone with as much bloodlust as he had. They’d be able to handle themselves if something went bad.
But Bim-bop didn’t give them any reason to worry. He seemed as on edge with Sarah and Kravis as they were with him. The last two hours of torture probably hadn’t done much to encourage a trusting relationship. At least Sarah had given him healing potions. She didn’t feel bad about the situation. She could have left him with broken bones.
Finally, they arrived at the Gate room. All the gates were still active. Sarah walked around each of them, inspecting them. “And if we use these, they won’t alert anyone?” Sarah asked.
Bim-bop nodded. “Nope. They’re already expecting more troops to go through. That was the plan after attacking the camp. It’s one of the larger invasions that has been planned for Earth.”
“Which one goes where?”
Bim-bop pointed at each of the Dark Gates and explained the cities they were heading to. “How do I know you aren’t going to double-cross us?” Sarah asked.
“The chip is gone. I don’t feel anything about the Dark One. Anything good, at least. But I know I won’t be able to convince you of that, so here’s a practical answer. Once you go through the portal, there’s nothing I can do. The most would be to close the portal. But by then, you’ll be on Earth. It’s a win-win for you.”
Sarah could see Bim-bop’s point, but getting to Earth wasn’t going to be enough. She pulled out a flash drive and redownloaded the information she had stolen last time. “Here’s the plan. I want you to put this room on lockdown. Leave the portals open. These portals go to three different places. I want to use them to go back and forth and help Myrddin’s people.”
Bim-bop turned to the control panel behind him. Before Sarah or Kravis could react, he placed his hand on the palm reader.
The doors of the room slammed shut. Then two more metal doors fell over the first, and a forcefield covered the exit. “I’ll do you one better,” Bim-bop said. “I’ll stay here for you two. Make sure no one comes through and shuts it down. It’s the least I can do to make up for…for what I’ve done.”
Sarah could see the remorse in Bim-bop’s eyes even if he tried to hide it. He had watched himself do terrible things outside of his will, outside of what he knew he was. That was enough to break anyone. If this was how he wanted to begin atoning, Sarah would let him.
Sarah knelt to be eye to eye with Kravis. “Where to first, love? You’ve never been to Earth.”
Kravis thought for a moment. “The young lass…we should go to her first,” he answered.
Sarah tried to remember the briefing she’d received had mentioned where Abby was going to be. She faintly remembered something about New York. “Which one of these goes to New York?”
Bim-bop pointed at three of the portals. “These three all go to New York.”
“Gotcha. After we go through, close the other two. And close all the excess portals to the other places as well. It’ll make it easier for everyone else.”
“Will do.”
Sarah saluted Bim-bop. It was the only thing she could think to do to let him know she trusted him. The gnome returned the salute, a sad smile across his face.
On that note, Sarah stepped through the Dark Gate to New York. Things were about to get interesting.
Chapter Eight
The Lincoln Memorial was the definition of chaos. People were running around, uncertain of where to go as orcs stepped through the Dark Gate. The steps of the Memorial had yet to run red with blood, but the sheer number of orcs alluded to the future possibilities.
The bark of the orcs’ chieftain commanding her forces was enough to send the few humans who hadn’t fled into instant terror. Some were kneeling, begging to be spared. Others merely stared, mouths hanging open. None took up arms. Anabelle noticed that as she sprinted toward the scene.
There were more orcs than she had initially assumed. This wasn’t a small party like the one she’d come across at the amusement park. The size of the force implied that these orcs were intending to do heavy damage. lt made sense. A full-on attack of DC would deliver a massive blow to humanity’s morale.
The Dark One was no longer trying to hide his intentions. If this Gate was opening in the middle of DC, it was likely he was trying to draw attention. Maybe even seeing it as a challenge to humanity. Anabelle thought it felt like a challenge. No more sneaking around. This was straight-up in her face.
Anabelle commed Naota. “How goes your Gate?”
Naota answered instantly. “Closed down, boss. Methinks it was a decoy. There were hardly any orcs, and it looked like the Gate had been open for a while.”
“If that’s the case, I want you at my position as soon as possible.”
Anabelle hadn’t thought the Dark One was trying to split up the group, outside of having different gates open across the US. That implied a few things to Anabelle. Even if the Dark One was ready to move out of the shadows with his attacks, he wasn’t ready for a full-on assault. The second implication was that the Dark One had a general understanding of HQ’s tactics. Whoever had planned this assault had been paying attention to the last few skirmishes.
“Be there in a few,” Naota responded, catching Anabelle off-guard.
Naota’s response shouldn’t have been a surprise. That meant Anabelle was distracted, and she was only a few minutes from engaging the enemy. She’d have to concentrate. That was the way of a Traveler.
Each fight had brought Anabelle closer to the Path. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t ecstatic to feel that connection again. Over the course of the battle, she’d come to realize her desire to get into the field and fight wasn’t born from some insecure desire to prove herself or any other nonsense. She was a Traveler. It was ingrained in her, even if she’d forgotten the extent. Each battle was a reaffirmation of just that.
Anabelle calmed herself and pulled her thoughts together, orienting them in the right direction. She felt her body, her limbs, moving without conscious thought. Allowed the manna to flow through her without restriction.
Anabelle left the Reflecting Pool behind and leapt onto the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, ignoring the humans who were cowering like spineless children. Even if it disgusted her, she could see why they were terrified. They weren’t warriors. They were the ones who needed to be protected.
The Dark Gate was still open, but no more orcs were coming out. There were at least forty of them. The orc who seemed to be in charge was a slim female. She wore thin, loose leather garb and was neither adorned with markings of a chieftain nor a shaman. Her build was unlike that of any orc Anabelle had ever seen. This orc was lean, knotted muscle.
Grok the Unspoken. Anabelle recognized the orc from her file readings with Roy. There had been little information in Grok’s dossier other than that she was of high rank in the Dark One’s army. Anabelle knew nothing more.
The orcs hadn’t seen Anabelle yet, and she aimed to use this to her advantage. She turned to the Reflecting Pool, drawing her manna into her hands, pulling the water from the pool, raising it in
to the air, swirling it into a massive ball, and then throwing it into the horde of orcs who approached the kneeling humans menacingly.
As the water descended on the orcs, who looked up with surprise and horror, Anabelle ran up the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial. She concentrated on the water turning to icicles, focusing the volley of sharpened ice on the orcs farthest from the humans.
Anabelle lunged straight for Grok.
The orc turned, and Anabelle almost forgot her attack. Something about Grok’s eyes frightened Anabelle and made her want to turn and run.
Pure, undiluted hatred shone through Grok’s eyes. It was as if the orc had been emptied of everything and filled with malice.
Grok assumed a fighting stance, her body slumping almost as if she were going to drop, and leapt toward Anabelle, her fingers held in a monk’s gesture that Anabelle had never seen before.
Anabelle felt the attack before she saw anything. A force struck her in the chest and sent her flying backward. She hit the ground and rolled down the stairs. When she got to her feet, she spat up blood.
Grok descended the stairs toward Anabelle. She casually grabbed a human in her path by the throat, lifted him, and threw him. The human landed fifteen feet away and did not move.
Anabelle focused and drew her manna to her hands, heating them, flames leaping from her hands. She sped toward Grok, throwing a series of fast jabs at the orc, who leaned back, deflecting each of the attacks with a measure of concentration and intention Anabelle had only seen in her masters. The combination of skill and the dead look in Grok’s eyes was disturbing.
Anabelle’s squad descended from the buildings around the memorial, along with Naota and the team. The orcs near the Gate quickly lost interest in the civilians and turned their attention to HQ’s soldiers.
Grok stepped back from Anabelle, delivering a jump kick that rippled the air with concussive force.
Anabelle was ready for it this time. She’d figured out Grok was dispelling manna as force. Almost like telekinesis, but connected to the orc’s physical movements.
