Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle

by Lackey, Mercedes

  Bella nodded slowly. “There you go, Commissar Red Saviour. There’s the hard truth you wanted.”

  Bella felt a flash of anger from Natalya, even though she didn’t react outwardly except to puff on her cigarette. Just as quickly as it had bubbled up, Nat clamped down on the emotion. “Da, fine. If it will being satisfying for delicate sensibilities, we will go…‘by the book,’ as you are saying. Will not give order to deliver justice to fascista.”

  “You can deliver all the justice you want, Commissar,” Bella replied, her voice hard. “Just make sure it’s justice, and not revenge. You know the old Chinese saying, I presume? If you walk the road to vengeance, be prepared to dig two graves.”

  Natalya barked a harsh laugh. “You are mistaken to think that justice and revenge are being mutually exclusive, sestra. And you are foolish to think that any of us should go to this evil place without being ready to die.” She flicked the cigarette away from the group, and turned to leave. “You will have your rules of war followed. I must go and find way to make sure war is ended at same time, now,” she called over her shoulder.

  Bella grimaced. “I tried,” she said to no one in particular, then looked at Murdock. “Come on. We’ve got a sub to catch.”

  “Y’know, in another life, that would just be you askin’ if I wanted to catch some lunch. But you’re right. Let’s get a move on.”

  * * *

  “We should look into the Futures,” Sera said abruptly. She was crammed into what looked like the uncomfortably tiny space of someone’s bunk, wings and all, because there had been no other place to put her where her wings weren’t in the way.

  The couple was alone on the submarine for the moment except for the skeleton crew needed to keep the life support going. After the discussion with Bella, Natalya, and nominally Victrix, John had finished packing his gear and made a beeline for the vessel. If nothing else, he didn’t want to leave Sera cooped up by herself in the cramped sub. More than that, though, he didn’t want to be alone. The comrades of the CCCP had done their best to make John feel like he was still just another tovarisch, and the same could be said of some of the ECHO personnel that he was more familiar with. Even so, there were more than a few people who just…stared at him. Like they were examining a particularly dangerous animal, without the benefit of a cage between them. He had become used to being seen as the most lethal person in the room—or at least one of them—a long time ago. This was different. He was apart from everyone now, in more ways than he had ever been before. For the umpteenth time, he longed for the days when he was anonymous, just another on-the-run metahuman.

  “You are troubled, love,” Sera said softly, when he didn’t answer. “How can I help you?”

  John grinned lopsidedly, shaking his head. “Just caught up in the little things, darlin’. Life used to be a lot simpler ’fore aliens an’ Nazis decided to blow up the world.” He shifted in his seat a bit, turning to face her. “Anyways, you’re right. We oughta try an’ do what we can with the Futures. We’re goin’ into the meat grinder, an’ a lotta people are dependin’ on us.”

  Her deep blue eyes regarded him steadily from the shadows of the bunk. “Yet you are uneasy. Are you in need of comfort, or knowledge more?”

  “That’s a fair question, love,” he said, sighing. Can’t get anythin’ past a wife who can literally read your emotions. “Guess I’m not done adjustin’ to how things have changed. For us, I mean.” He regarded her, trying to clear his mind and take in everything about her. Her eyes, her hair, and even her wings. She was beautiful…but in such a more personal way than she had been when he had first met her. There was still a bit of the alien grandeur to her; the way she moved, the way that she looked at things and people. But that was replaced more and more each day with a sort of human ease; she was more comfortable in her body now, with the limitations, the pains…and the joys. They had never been closer than they were right then. “They’re all afraid of us. Even Bella. Maybe especially her.” He took another moment, gathering his thoughts. “It’s comin’ off of ’em all in waves. They think we’re unpredictable, an’ that scares ’em. I just don’t know how we square that when everythin’ is all said an’ done. Are we goin’ to be fightin’ just to be us, from now on?”

  She reached out to where he sat on the bunk opposite hers, and put one hand on his wrist. “We cannot change what we are. But we can change how they see us, merely by being ourselves as much as we can. That will take time, and there is none to spare now. What is it you have always said? Fix the first problem you have in front of you, and don’t worry about the ones behind it? That is what we must do, and you know what that problem is.”

  “You’re right,” he said, sighing. “And what a helluva problem we got in front of us. So, shall we, ’fore the others get here?”

  She nodded, and closed her hand down around his wrist. “This is not the ideal place, but needs must. Let us look to the Futures and find the best, if we can.”

  The couple had been through the process enough times that, now, it was as easy as breathing for John. None of the anxiety or trepidation. One moment, they were both sitting in the submarine, facing each other with their eyes closed and their hands clasped. The next…they were in an endless stream of light, with countless tributaries spreading out as far as either of them could see. John focused on what he wanted to see, and Sera joined her intention with his: a glimpse at the next few hours for themselves, and the rest of the assault force. Immediately, John felt that something was different about this viewing. Instead of a narrowing of the different paths and directions that the light was flowing, they multiplied. The intensity of the light was nearly blinding, culminating in a bright horizon, almost like a wall that began when they entered the World Ship.

  There were a few things that John and Sera were able to glean from the vision. There would be much suffering inside of the World Ship: death, loss, sacrifice, anguish. And, no matter what else happened, both of them had to be there. Any path that began with either or both of them not going to the World Ship terminated abruptly. It was unlike anything that John had ever seen when trying to view the Futures.

  Before the viewing could drain them too much, John signaled to Sera that they needed to end the trance. As one, they came back to the real world, in real time.

  Sera blinked at him owlishly. “There is no clear path,” she said, finally.

  “Just one, darlin’. We’ve gotta be on the World Ship. But we already knew that.” The sounds of feet on the metal ladder leading down from the hatch echoed through the sub. Most of the sounds went forward; one set of feet came aft, in their direction.

  Vickie, dressed oddly in chainmail, and with a sword and dagger sheathed at her side, appeared in the doorway of the bunkroom and regarded them both solemnly.

  “Any word from Delphi?” she asked, a little too casually.

  John glanced over at Sera, and realized that the barest flecks of gold were still in both of their eyes. “Gear up for a rough day, an’ keep your powder dry,” he said, turning back to Vickie. “No matter what, Sera an’ I are goin’ to see this through.”

  “Of all the things in the world that are a certainty, that you and Sera are in this till the end is at the top of the list,” she replied.

  “Fair enough.” He eyed her outfit, particularly the sword. “Packin’ a little bit of an old-school kit, aren’t ya?”

  “Under most circumstances, you’d be right.” She put one hand carefully on the hilt of the sword. “But after that run-in you guys had with Barron…and knowing what I know about Doppelgaenger…I’ve been spending every spare minute I have to make sure Tire Iron and Can Opener are a bit more than they seem.” She raised an eyebrow. “They’ve both got magically created nanoedges. I don’t care how tough Barron’s armor is, or how fast Doppelgaenger can heal. I don’t think either of them can take being sliced to ribbons by something with an edge only one nanometer wide.” She patted the hilt. “The sheathes are special containment fields for them, s
o I can keep from slicing up everything in sight until I’m ready. The only fly in the oatmeal is that once they’re drawn, the spell only lasts about twenty minutes, give or take.”

  “Best make it count then, comrade.” He shrugged, glancing at Sera. “This is why I like guns, explosives, and Celestial fire: simple, to the point, and effective.”

  Sera raised an eyebrow. “There is nothing much simpler than a blade that can cut the wind itself, my love.”

  “Tell that to the wielder,” he said, nodding to Vickie. “I’m guessin’ our little mage has trainin’ to use those bits. Only ever had trainin’ with knives, myself, an’ it’s not the easiest thing to master. Even with a sword made outta fire an’ our…gifts to help, it’s a helluva thing to learn to use right. Still, I’m happy she’s bringin’ her blades along. Every trick we can get, y’know?”

  “Thanks. Yeah, training since I was six. I’m actually counting on the idea they’ll look at me and laugh. I hope they’re still laughing when their heads hit the floor.” Her flat tone made that not so much a threat as a promise. John felt a twinge deep inside of himself. Her words sound awfully familiar, don’t they, Murdock? He reached out carefully, brushing her mind with his telempathy.

  He found one thought that was the focus of everything. Assuming no one else had beaten her to it, Vickie was going to find Doppelgaenger and kill her. But the reason was not what John would have expected—revenge. Oh, revenge was part of it, certainly. But the main reason? It was clear as if it had been written for him. Even if the Thulians go down, if Doppelgaenger escapes, no one in ECHO will ever be safe.

  She’d had a personal lesson in that. Her parents had left her uncle alive. And years later, he had come back to kidnap, torture, and kill her. Doppelgaenger had been Bela Nagy’s ally and pupil. There was every reason to believe she had taken that lesson in along with everything else.

  John was going to ask her why she hadn’t supported Bella during the little “meeting” with the Commissar. Now he knew. She had other priorities, the all-consuming kind. And she was psyching herself up to do what needed to be done. He had seen it before, of course. His men, before a mission, or elite athletes before a big game. Total focus. Still…he was concerned. Getting that invested takes a lot out of a person. Especially if that’s the only thing they expect to get done.

  As if she had read his mind, Vickie looked straight into his eyes. “Johnny, the bottom line here is that if we don’t win here, Zach Marlowe notwithstanding, it’s The End. Not just humanity, not just the planet, it will go beyond this planet. Ask Sera. She saw it. So we have to forget about ourselves, and concentrate on ending this now.”

  “I know what’s on the line here, Vic. Trust me on that, if nothin’ else.” He stretched his arms over his head, trying to stay casual. She’s on the ragged edge. “I just don’t buy the ‘forget about ourselves’ bit. Don’t get me wrong, if it comes to buyin’ the farm so that the world can keep on spinnin’, I’m all in. But I’d also like to win and live in that world. So, I figure we aim high.” He leaned forward, matching her stare. “So take care of yourself when we get on site. Otherwise, I’ll sic Sera, Bella, an’ the Bull on ya. In no particular order, mind.”

  She shrugged. “It is what it is,” she said. “I’ll be up in the captain’s cabin if you need me.” Then she turned and went back the way she had come.

  She has a powerful will, my love. One of the most powerful I have ever seen in a mortal. She will not be moved. He turned to see Sera gazing at him solemnly. She is even more stubborn than you, and I did not think that possible.

  To do what she does, she’s gotta have a strong will, an’ be stubborn as all hell. He looked after the way Vickie had gone, frowning. I just hope it doesn’t get her killed.

  * * *

  This wasn’t her first submarine—if it could be called that, considering all of the bells and whistles added to make it fit for the coming battle—but Mel felt the familiar twinge of panic rise as she eyed the metal baguette floating in the water. Experience and training chased it away as quickly as it came, and she let out a long controlled breath.

  “How long are we gonna be in there?” Penny reached for Mel’s hand. Her thin fingers trembled and she swallowed hard. “All the way underwater, I mean?”

  Mel glanced down at her charge. After all that the girl had been through, she hadn’t considered that claustrophobia would be a problem. She adjusted her grip to hold Penny’s sweaty hand in her comparatively cool palm and squeezed. “Not all that long. Just think of it like an inside room where they don’t get windows. If you close your eyes, you can imagine it just how big or how small you want.”

  “It ain’t that,” Penny corrected, clutching Mel’s hand with both of hers. “I cain’t swim.”

  “You can’t…oh. Oh,” Mel realized, glancing at the blue-green water surrounding them. “And you’re worried about something happening to the sub? ’Cause I ain’t gonna let you fall in when we’re getting on or off. And even if you did,” she added, patting the girl’s shoulder, “I’d haul you out so fast you wouldn’t have time to get your undershirt wet.”

  Penny’s eyes only widened, her pupils so big they drowned out the dark brown irises. “You’d be that fast?”

  “Yup. Me and Riley and the rest of our squad, we had to go through all kinds of training for rescue operations. Land, air, water. Burning buildings, underwater cars, even livestock stampedes.” She winked. “Sweetie, I will swim for both of us. Promise.”

  Her charge’s lip wrinkled and her grip tightened. “But that’s if I fall in. A submarine’s gotta go underwater and stay underwater, right? And if they go deep enough, something could make it pop, and the water could come in, and…” Penny took in more rapid breaths, squeezing Mel’s hand hard enough to make her wince.

  Mel pulled the girl to the side and used her free hand to grip her chin. She locked her eyes with Penny’s and dropped her voice to a low, warm whisper. “Cherie, you and I will be in a submarine guided by two, huge, water gods and filled with ECHO folks who got all sorts of powers to keep everybody safe. One of my former commanding officers is here, and you know what he can do?” Penny’s head wiggled from left to right, yet she didn’t break eye contact. “Big ol’ Bulwark makes these big ol’ bubbles around anything he wants to keep safe, and he does it as easy as you talk to folks on the other side. If anything happens on that sub, he’s gonna bubble it up and nobody’ll get a drop of water on ’em.”

  She let go of Penny, who lessened her hold on her fingers, and glanced back at the others waiting to board the sub. Others had to manage their own fears, but few would fault a preteen for a moment of crisis before beginning an operation of this magnitude. The girl let out a shaky breath and bobbed her head. “You think there’s somebody else who don’t know how to swim? So it ain’t just me?”

  “It ain’t just you,” Mel reassured her.

  The idea that she might not be alone in her fear seemed to calm the girl. She released Mel’s cramped fingers and wiped her palms on her pint-sized version of ECHO nanoweave. “Will it be a long trip? Once we start going, I mean?”

  The details of the briefing were fresh in her mind, coordinates and estimates memorized with little effort. “After we get settled, we can count on about four hours of travel time.”

  “Four?”

  “Yup. Plenty of time for a nap, or some ice cream if you’re not feeling like a rest. On these longer rides out, the best thing to do is let your brain relax and not think about a whole bunch of anything.” Their group started to move forward to board the sub. Atlas stood sentry not more than twenty feet away, with a huge piece of what must have been the fabric used for big sails wrapped decorously around his hips in a sort of loincloth arrangement. From her viewpoint, the draping left little to the imagination, and she hoped that for Penny’s sake, the mechanisms holding up said loincloth would not fail.

  For herself, she wouldn’t mind a slight wardrobe malfunction. Any morale boost would be a welcome one. />
  “He’s awful big.” Penny craned her neck to take in the sight of Atlas next to them. “Like some kind of jolly blue giant.”

  “More water, less veggies,” Mel agreed. They shuffled on with the group, the girl ahead of her in the line to climb down the ladder into the main compartment. One foot in front of the other, with the promise of ice cream somewhere before the battle.

  * * *

  Vickie settled herself in with her laptop. “Eight? How are you coming on the story compilation?”

  “Splendidly, Vickie. In fact, done, except for what is about to occur.”

  “Well, if I’m not around to edit it afterwards, it probably won’t matter if it’s been edited or not.” The captain had graciously given her the use of his cabin—why, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if anything he did or did not do would matter to this sardine can right now, and he could just relax back here and watch videos if he wanted. “Overwatch: Open Atlas. Hey, big guy, we ready to pull out?”

  “The hatch just closed, and I’m taking charge now. You might hear my hands on the hull, but after that, I doubt you’ll even know you’re moving. ’Te is about to move out as well.”

  Vickie hadn’t been sure what to expect, but Atlas must have been very gentle as his big hands closed around the hull and he tucked them under his arm. Just some slight scrapes and a little jolt.

  Now came the worst part of the trip. Trying to find something to occupy her for four hours.

  Might as well go over the document. Reading it couldn’t possibly hurt worse than living through it had. And if I do nothing, I’m just going to relive it anyway.

  * * *

  Georgi stood at the edge of what amounted to the prow for one of the “vessels” that the main assault forces were using. Water had been lapping over the edge since they began their journey, and enough of it had collected on the deck to ensure that everyone’s boots were soaked, if they didn’t have the benefit of waterproofing. Truth be told, Georgi didn’t mind; he was used to his feet being cold from snow, soaked in water, and worse. His healing factor took care of most of his ills; for what it could not insulate him from, his Russian constitution guarded against, or so he liked to think. Better than Stalingrad…but then again, almost anything is.