by Ramy Vance
There were some families of gnomes at the camp as well. Most of the resistance groups had had no choice but to accept refugees. The gnomes displaced by the war didn’t have anywhere else to go. There had been rumors about trying to go back underground, to abandon the surface world as the dark gnomes had done years ago.
But that was a foolish hope; the dark gnomes had also been run out of their homes. If anyone was honest with themselves, they would assume the Dark One was already busy converting the ancient underground gnome cities into another machination of his war.
Sarah took a seat at one of the many fires throughout the camp. A pair of orphans sat across from her, sharing a meal. They smiled at her, and she forced a believable grin for the kids. The sight of these children tore her up more than anything else. Children weren’t supposed to ever experience life like this. They should have been running and playing, not squatting in squalor and starving.
Kravis came to sit beside Sarah. “We’re in the process of hunting down another convoy. And the spy who gave us the bad intel should be joining us soon.”
Sarah watched the flames and sighed. “Do you think we can talk about something else for a little bit?”
Kravis handed Sarah a piece of salty dried meat. “Does it have to be child-appropriate?”
Sarah glanced at the kids, who had finished eating and were now playing with a stick, drawing figures in the dirt. “Preferably not something that we have to shoo them away from.”
Kravis leaned back and looked up at the stars. “What did we ever used to talk about? Feels like this has been life for so long. How about this…tell me about the first time you ever went to the beach.”
“The beach? God, it’s been forever since I was at a beach.” Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. Anytime Kravis had to think of something to talk about, he ended up getting sentimental. A very noticeable change for the gnome who, for the most part, projected an image of an insufferable grouch. “The first time…I think I might have been ten or eleven. We didn’t really have beaches where I grew up.”
“I thought humans went to the beach all the time.”
“Only if you live near one. My home was pretty landlocked. I actually learned how to swim at the beach. It was terrifying. My dad and mom took me out to the water, and I looked out at all that ocean. I started crying and wanted to go home. My parents had to sit down in the water with me for an hour or something like that.”
Kravis took a bit of meat and chuckled. “You being afraid is very hard for me to wrap my head around. Granted, you were only a kid. Still, you being afraid of anything sounds downright false.”
Sarah nodded as she began to lose herself in thought. “Yeah, I used to be scared of everything, especially of dying. That’s what I was thinking at the ocean. Everyone thinks the ocean is beautiful but for me, for a long time, all I could see when I looked out at the waves was something that could drag me to death. But I love the ocean now. First place I want to go once we get some time off. What about you?”
“First place I want to go?”
“No, first time you went to the ocean.”
Kravis screwed up his face while he thought. “I think I was twenty or so. There’s a lot of lakes all over the place where I grew up, and the ocean wasn’t too far off. But I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. There was so much water. We took a boat out and spent the day sailing and fishing. It was a really good day. I wouldn’t mind taking a trip out again once we can take a break from—” Kravis stopped talking abruptly. He was staring at the children, who were watching him and Sarah with wide eyes. “From what we do,” he finally finished.
Behind them, a gnomish spy walked to the fire, the same spy responsible for the faulty intel. He sat beside Sarah.
One thing Sarah loved about gnomish culture was the lack of formality on all occasions. Gnomes spoke to you as though they knew you, and rank meant nothing. If this gnome was in trouble, there wouldn’t be some huge meeting. They would simply sit and talk. The most formal Sarah had seen any gnomes was during briefings, and even that was usually done over a beer.
The spy handed Sarah a jug of wine. “You wanted to see me. There were problems with the intel I provided?”
Sarah nodded as she took the wine. “Yeah, there were problems. The truck we found was empty. No supplies. Only some weird black goo.”
The spy raised his eyebrow. “Black goo? I didn’t find out anything about that.”
“I don’t know if you got duped or not, but you’re gonna have to keep that from happening again. Good intel is all that’s keeping any of us alive right now. That falls through, we’re dead.”
The spy sipped the wine and nodded. “Understood. On that note, I have some more information. This time it’s not good news.”
Sarah sighed and shook her head. “When is it ever just good news? What do you have for me?”
“There are reports of the Dark One making moves on the Northern Front. We’ve been anticipating that for a while, but it looks like it’s actually happening. But that’s not the real news. We’ve been getting reports from different camps. They’re being wiped out. The Dark One is pushing to break the resistance. There’ve been over ten attacks over the last twenty-four hours.”
“Any idea how he’s finding the camps? They’re pretty secluded, and we have security measures in place.”
“We think he’s hacking our communications. There’s also always the chance there’s a spy. Not likely that each of these camps was infiltrated, though. Most likely, it’s someone who works with communication between camps.”
Sarah took a deep swig of the wine and passed it to Kravis. “Any word on how that’s going to be handled yet?”
“We’ve put in a request with Myrddin to help us improve our communication encryption. And the remaining camps are looking into all of their soldiers. We haven’t found anything on our side yet.”
Sarah stood, still staring into the flames. “Okay. I’ll touch base with Myrddin and make sure you get what you need soon. Send me a copy of the details for the next truck you’re planning to hit.”
The spy agreed and Sarah left, heading back to her tent. She closed the tarp behind her and sat on her bed as she sent in a comm request to Myrddin.
The wizard picked up quickly. He appeared stressed out. “Looks like you’re in a great mood for some shit news,” Sarah joked.
Myrddin put on his glasses and cleared his throat. From the looks of it, he had probably only recently woken up. “I’m always ready for bad news. What do you have?”
“We hit a truck for supplies today. The whole thing was empty. We either have a mole in our communication squad, or someone’s hacking us. Either way, we put in a request for someone to strengthen our lines. I wanted to emphasize the need for this.”
“I’ll have someone on it immediately.”
“Second thing, we also found something really weird on the truck. It was a vial of some kind of black goo. The stuff reacted when it saw me. Tried to break out of the glass and attack me. I have it stored now, but it reminded me of something I read in one of the recent briefings. About the shard that alien Vardis on Middang3ard left behind when he died. There was a reactive liquid in that too, right?”
Myrddin stroked his beard. “Yes, there was. And the shard is a weapon. The substance might be more important to the weapon than we previously thought. We’re still running tests on it. Before Vardis died, he said the weapon would have had the potential to destroy the Dark One. If this is tech that the Dark One has as well, we’re in a lot of trouble. I believe the endgame is finally upon us.”
“Are we ready?”
Myrddin reset his glasses, his eyes distant. “I believe we will find out soon enough.”
Chapter Eighteen
Terra and Roy were on an elevator heading to the thirteenth floor of the Ciacom television studios. The company was a media beast, owning nearly seventeen cable channels and a handful of newspaper outlets. They were known for their hard-hitting, confrontational styl
e. Terra had been bummed to hear that the show she was appearing on was their most openly conflictual.
The last talk show was still fresh in Terra’s mind. It had been such a clusterfuck. And there had been no downtime between both interviews. This wasn’t Terra’s strong suit. She didn’t think she could handle another bout of questions, especially knowing she would have to answer ones that dealt with what had happened on the Steve Campbell show.
This was beyond stage fright. Terra’s stomach had been bundled up in knots since Myrddin had informed her of the second interview. She tried not to let anyone know, though. To be fair, this wasn’t any more dangerous than her time in the arena. She knew how to handle herself in a fight. The civilians made her feel uncomfortable. Hopefully the producers had the common sense not to be filming in front of a live audience.
The elevator stopped, and Terra and Roy walked out. It seemed like something was on Roy’s mind as well. Terra wondered what it was. She had been told at the last minute that Roy would be accompanying her on the show, so maybe he was also nervous. “You ever do the tv thing?” Terra asked.
Roy, who was looking around the corner as if he was watching for shooters, distractedly looked back at Terra. “Huh? Television? No, never done this talk show crap. Don’t know why Myrddin would send me on something like this. There are a lot more important things that I could be doing.”
“Yeah, he’s putting a lot of effort into getting a media presence. Never would have thought this was the place for our resources.”
The two walked down the hallway, looking for someone to direct them, but the studio was bare. “Necessary evil. Honestly, if you don’t have a viral twitter, no one is going to be listening to you. You wouldn’t know it, but we have an entire social media department. Myrddin’s only being this hands-on because of you.”
“What do you mean, because of me?”
“You’re green. That’s probably why I’m here. You and Abby are two of our newest recruits. I mean for special-agent situations. Myrddin probably knows this is going to be stressful. But he’s right. We do need you front and center. Anabelle hasn’t really polled well with humans because…you know, she can be kind of a dick. But you, people been watching you for a minute. If humans were going to pay attention to anyone, it would probably be you.”
Two young women dressed in suits were waiting at the end of the hall. One of them waved Terra and Roy over. “Hi! Sorry about the lack of a welcoming party, but we’re running a skeleton crew today. Everyone was pretty spooked about working today in case there was an attack.”
The two women looked at each other hesitantly. “Do you think there’s going to be one?” the other one asked.
Roy looked sincerely at the two women. “We’ve doubled our security already. In all likelihood, there probably will be. If you guys wanted a day to call in sick, I’d suggest this one.”
One of the women laughed. “Yeah, sick days? In this industry? Come on, let’s get you to makeup.”
The two women led Terra and Roy down the hall to the makeup department. Terra prepared herself for the irritation of having someone playing with her face for the next hour. She had no idea why makeup had to take so long.
Terra was not disappointed about the length of time it took to do wardrobe and makeup. What was a welcome surprise was how much Roy enjoyed all of this. His gruff demeanor vanished once he got in front of the mirror and had two artists grooming his beard.
Roy was all jokes as he was worked over. It was the most Terra had ever seen Roy talk, let alone to strangers. He seemed to be in a great mood. “So, this is kinda your thing?” Terra asked.
“Not the television part, but I love being pampered. Do you know when the last time was that I was able to just lie back and let someone pamper me?”
One of the assistants lathered Roy’s beard and started shaving it. “I’ve been wanting to get a shave forever now, but I hate doing it myself. Years ago, I used to go to this barber a couple blocks away from my house. Friend of my dad. He only used a straight razor, and every time you came in, he made you feel like a goddamn god. You guys are doing a pretty great job too, just so you know.”
The other assistant leaned over Roy and said, “You know, we could use a straight razor.”
Roy beamed, the biggest smile Terra had ever seen across his face. “Hook that shit up, friend.”
While Roy had his face shaved, Terra tried to relax and enjoy the experience. She’d never gotten pampered much either. Maybe she could enjoy someone taking care of her for a bit.
That feeling vanished once one of her makeup artists asked if she wanted her eyebrows plucked. “Stick to the makeup, please. I happen to like my bushy brows.”
The artist smiled at Terra. “Glad you do. They are pretty fierce.”
Terra and Roy continued to be prepped. As the makeup artists took care of their work, Roy prepped Terra on a couple of talking points. He encouraged her to defer questions about policy to him. Anything relating to human efforts would be her job. “Also, I want you to know that the bit you said about orcs went over really well back at the base,” Roy said. “Not a thing that gets talked about nearly enough. Glad you spearheaded that one. Which brings me to my next point. Wanted to know if you were interested in a little surprise? Some shit-stirring.”
Terra’s interest was piqued. “What did you have in mind?”
“I hate the idea of orcs not being able to speak for themselves, you know? Who are we to talk for them? So, Cire’s here. We talked about this a little bit. If you don’t mind sharing the spotlight, we could bring Cire on too.”
“Wouldn’t Myrddin be pissed?”
Roy laughed as he stood to inspect the suits being brought to him. “Of course he’s going to be pissed. But he still enjoys the initiative. And if you’re going to be the face of the human resistance, you should have a bigger role than just reading off a script. These are calls you can make.”
Terra hadn’t spent much time with Roy since she’d come to HQ. She was glad to see that he was such an individual. Her first impression of him was someone who followed Myrddin’s rules blindly. Maybe Roy was someone she could talk to about what was on her mind. “Hey, you know Anabelle pretty well, right?”
Roy slipped on a bright pink suit jacket, casting a glance over his shoulder at Terra. “Uh, you could say that. Why are you asking?”
“She seems pretty angry with me. Or, maybe not angry. She…she just doesn’t seem like when I first met her. I don’t know what I did wrong, and it’s kinda irritating me. But I don’t know if it’s just in my head. Figured you may be able to give me a little perspective.”
Roy turned and took his pants off to try another fit. “Yeah, she can be a little tough to read. But she’s got a good heart. When did she start acting weird?”
“A day or two before the Campbell show.”
Roy laughed before checking to see if Terra was looking away before changing again. “Oh, that. I can’t believe she’s still being weird about that. You know she used to be a model, right?”
“Yeah, if you could even call it that. She’s a fucking icon. I used to watch everything she ever made.”
“Does she know that?”
The makeup artists had ducked away.
“Why would I have told her that? You think I want her to know I’m fangirling over her?” Terra asked.
“She’d be flattered. But anyway, she never got a slot on the Campbell show. And to say she’s having a hard time reconciling all of her time being in the public eye versus now would be an understatement. She’s having a weird-ass time. That’s all.”
Terra checked herself out in the mirror, content with how she looked. “Okay. I wanted to talk to her about it but didn’t know where to start. Glad to hear it’s not only me she’s pissed with.”
“No, this is about Anabelle, not you. But let me give you a little bit of advice. If you wanna get this out in the open, you’re gonna have to talk to her. She’s not gonna say anything.”
&n
bsp; A production assistant entered the room. “Hey, we’re ready for you guys.”
Roy held up two suit jackets, one pink and the other bright green. “Okay, which one do you think?”
“Are you serious?”
“What do you mean?”
“The pink would look great on you.”
Roy looked at the pink suit jacket. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
The tone of the show was evident from the moment Terra and Roy entered the studio stage. Larry Omans and John Ashmore were waiting for them, already seated. There was no music to play either of the agents out.
The audience was absent as well, replaced by HQ soldiers. Naota and Blackwell were sitting front row, the former eating popcorn. Where he had managed to find the popcorn eluded Terra.
Terra took a seat across from Larry and John, and Roy sat beside her.
Larry and John extended their hands to Terra and Roy. “I’m glad you were able to make it here with such little warning,” Larry said. “We’ve been dying to have you on the show since we began to see what was happening on the…what was it, orcish world? We actually have a couple of questions to ask you about just that.”
Terra leaned forward, grinning into the camera. “You know, I have someone who would be great for answering any orc related questions. Cire, do you think you could come out here?”
Cire emerged from the audience, the only orc amidst them all. He went to the desk, one of the production assistants running from offscreen to provide the orc with a chair.
Larry and John looked at each other uncertainly. “Oh, we didn’t realize you were bringing a guest. Uh…”
The hosts softly spoke to each other before turning to Terra and the others. “Excuse me if I’m blunt,” John said, “but how are we humans supposed to trust you, given what orcs have been doing? Launching attacks. Abducting people such as Terra. I know we’ve been told that orcs are not all following the Dark One but there has been little to any evidence of that. Honestly, I believe you are the first orc that myself and our viewers have seen who isn’t actively trying to kill every human in sight.”
