Shay eyed James from her side of the bed. “You did what?”
“I told Father McCartney the truth. It's not a big deal. He took it well.”
Shay scrubbed a hand over her face. “That could have backfired in a big way.”
“Maybe.” James slipped the amulet off his neck and set it on the nightstand next to him. “But the less I have to lie, the better. The government knowing all that shit made a lot of what had to go down easier. It’s not like I’m planning to go on some news show and have them broadcast that I’m a Vax Forerunner, but if I can tell people I trust, why not?”
Shay sighed. “I suppose. Maybe someday you will be able to tell everyone. Are you going to tell Alison?”
“Yeah. She needs to know, and anyway, she might already have figured it out. Saw it in my soul or some shit. I’ll give her a call soon. I just want to make sure all this vimana and Fortis shit isn’t as fresh. I don’t want her asking the right questions and figuring out what went down. Somehow she always seems to be able to tell if I’m holding back, even over the phone.”
Shay snickered. “The truth is, James, you’re just a terrible liar.”
James chuckled. “CIA Boy said something like that.”
“It’s not a bad thing. You’re a straightforward guy, and even if you hide the amulet, it’s not like you’re much for bullshit misdirection. It’s one of the reasons you drove me nuts when I first met you. Every man like you I’ve met before has been into bullshit misdirection, so when you dealt with me honestly and openly, it confused the hell out of me. I kept trying to understand your angle.”
James grunted. “Yeah, and kept assuming I was gay.”
Shay gave him a sheepish smile. “You’re not the only one who needed to learn how to deal with people better, you know.” She leaned back and rested her head on her pillow. “I wonder if the Professor and a bunch of wizards are out in the desert somewhere raising a vimana. I always assumed he already had it, but now that I know he didn’t, it’s… Shit. It’s a little cool. I still doubt they’ll be able to do much with something that was made during an age of high magic, but if they dump enough magic into it, maybe they can accomplish at least a little with it. But that’s the kind of thing that—I don’t know—really makes you think about how things were back on Earth then. It’s almost as if they were more impressive than on Oriceran.”
“What? You saying all this getting shot at by Fortis shit is inspiring?”
Shay laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“And what is it inspiring you to do?”
“Epic wedding venues.”
James shot up, his heart pounding. “Meaning what?”
“I’m just saying that a wedding on the ground would be kind of boring. Everyone does that shit.”
James stared at her, uncomprehending.
“I’m not saying that I want a vimana wedding,” Shay clarified. “But maybe something in the air. There has to be some way to manage it. We’ve both got plenty of money and magical contacts.”
James shook his head. “If God wanted man to fl—”
“He would have given them wings. Blah, blah.” Shay rolled her eyes. “I wonder what stupid shit arpaks say that sound like that. What about a plane?”
“You know I hate them, too.”
Shay’s breath caught. “Underwater wedding. I bet that’s easier. I’m sure you get a few elves and wizards together, they cast a spell and make a little air bubble or some shit.”
James grunted, unsure if Shay was being serious or teasing him.
Underwater wedding? I guess it’s better than a gnome bounce castle on the moon.
24
Sentry 8224 tapped his AllBand a few times to verify that the long-range comm link was stable before clearing his throat.
“Reporting, Sentry 8224, Senior Shepherd Corayailaxi Jakimalitta, in response to the last inquiry sent by Command. I am confident that my time on Earth has given me sufficient information to place the actions of Sentry 7921 in proper context, while also providing recommendations for future Alliance interactions with Earth.” He waited until a telltale beep indicated the words had been processed. “Let me first note that I agree with earlier conclusions that Shepherd 7921’s actions were excessive, and on multiple occasions, she clearly harmed innocent natives outside the scope of her operational mission. With that duly noted, the Vax threat represented by James Brownstone is even more extreme than was perceived by the junior Shepherd. In a recent series of encounters with rogue intelligence agents of the US government, the Vax, operating in armored mode, was able to survive attacks by a molecular rearrangement weapon associated with an unknown advanced species. I’ll be looking into them further to determine their influence and threat to Earth.”
He tapped his AllBand a few more times to send along some images he had intercepted of James battling Fortis agents outside the Leanan Sidhe.
“In addition, there is little evidence that any tactical-scale magic or technology available on Earth presents a serious threat to Brownstone any longer, including most of the tactical-scale weapons available to the Alliance. Therefore, it is imperative that the humans agree that we take possession of Brownstone. Without the support of his government and with surprise, it might be possible to capture Brownstone. Since the humans obviously don’t trust the Alliance, it is my recommendation that we provide them with a technology sample that proves our good intentions. Altering the course of their technological development wouldn’t violate general policies, given that the course of their history has already been heavily manipulated by the open use of magic.”
Sentry 8224 took a deep breath, unsure of his next statement, but also understanding it was where the evidence led him.
“Lastly, it is my recommendation that a fleet presence be established in this system until such time as we take custody of James Brownstone or he’s killed. After analyzing human technology and magic in addition to reviewing Sentry 7921’s reports, I believe that it should be easy to conceal a number of ships as long as we keep them in the outer system. Their technological detection methods remain crude, and their experiments suggest that the range and power of magical spells is limited off Earth. Please note; it is important that we conceal the fleet. The humans will not knowingly tolerate the presence of a fleet in their system.”
A few firm confirmatory beeps issued from the AllBand and he transmitted the message. It was up to his superiors now.
The Vax knelt in front of the central spire of the Temple, his eyes closed as he murmured a prayer. As First, it was his solemn duty to lead and protect his people the best way he knew how: by cleansing the galaxy of all threats.
The last few cycles had gone well. Only a few Forerunners had failed. Most had sent out their pulses, and the Vanguard had gone to meet them. Death had followed. The cleansing of worlds that might threaten his people continued. The Culling Path continued to protect them.
Light footsteps sounded behind the First.
He opened his eyes but didn’t turn around. “What is it?”
“I apologize for disrupting your prayers, First, but an unusual signal was detected.”
“A Forerunner calls for the Vanguard?” The First stood and turned to stare at the robed Vax behind him.
“No. The signature was Forerunner energy, but it wasn’t a hyperspace pulse.”
The First narrowed his eyes. Many of the technical details of the Culling Path eluded him, as did those of the bonded. When he was younger, it had bothered him, but now he had faith that every Vax had a part to play. His was to lead, not to understand the minutiae of hyperspace pulses.
“Clarify,” he demanded. “And be efficient about it, servitor.”
The other Vax blinked his yellow eyes a few times. “It’s…you see… We believe a Forerunner used transformation abilities near existing portals, perhaps those generated by other races. Somehow it resonated in a way that we were able to detect it, as if the signal was amplified.”
“Other races with port
al technology?” The First shook his head. “This isn’t acceptable. They must be Culled. They are a threat to our people and our planet. Why hasn’t the Forerunner called for the Vanguard if he’s using his abilities?”
“That’s the other important finding,” the servitor explained. “Given what we detected, we believe this is the Heretic Child.”
The First’s breath caught. He almost fell to his knees to weep at the good fortune bestowed on them. The years might have passed, but the Heretic Child had never left his thoughts. His parents might have paid with their lives, but they’d wasted a Forerunner and sent him off to some unknown place.
“It will be difficult, First, but from what I’ve been told, we can use this resonance to track the Heretic Child,” the servitor continued. “But we need your permission to send the Vanguard.”
“No.” The First shook his head. “The purity of the Heretic Child is questionable.”
“But he’s using transformation abilities. He is a bonded, then, and performing his duty as part of the Culling Path.”
The First turned back toward the spire. “We cannot be sure his symbiont rules him. Send a Purifier. Once he has found the Heretic Child, he will call the Destroyers directly to Cull the world.”
The servitor gasped but didn’t say anything. The First knew what he was thinking. His plan varied from the official Culling Path dogma, but some perversions couldn’t be allowed to exist.
“Conflict comes from impurity,” the First intoned. “Purity breeds strength. And strength will protect the Vax.”
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
March 7, 2019
THANK YOU for not only reading this story but these Author Notes as well.
(I think I’ve been good with always opening with “thank you.” If not, I need to edit the other Author Notes!)
RANDOM (sometimes) THOUGHTS?
I know I mentioned in the last Author Notes (I think) that we are doing a Brownstone-type series with another character in his
I hope you look forward to it!
Another James Brownstone idea we are tossing around is a road trip series. Maybe a book every 3-4 months when James goes on the road for BBQ and busting someone’s ass.
I like to think of it as a kick-ass road trip series.
You know, James gets bored, decides to try some Kansas City BBQ, and then someone does something stupid around him while he is there?
Let us know what you think of that idea on the Facebook Group for Oriceran:
https://www.facebook.com/OriceranUniverse/
In a couple of days, my wife and I are going to have dinner with Mark Dawson and his wife at their home in Salisbury, England. Mark offered to meet us someplace else since their town is where the Russian agents killed someone with horrific poison that sticks around. I explained I wasn’t too concerned if those who lived in the city were dealing with it just fine.
Something new, something old.
For those who have read enough of my author notes, you know I am a Texan by birth and lived there most of my life.
You don’t just drop the attitude.
AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS
One of the interesting (at least to me) aspects of my life is the ability to work from anywhere and at any time. In the future, I hope to re-read my own Author Notes and remember my life as a diary entry.
London, England
I’m looking out the window at Big Ben (most of it is covered up as they work on it, but the clock face is almost staring right at me.) We are here for the London Book Fair, which is starting next week.
I can’t honestly tell you what else I have to do today since my mind is goop. The trip from Las Vegas to New York and then New York to London went well enough, but I’m wondering if the height the planes fly is causing me breathing issues.
I just find it harder to breath up in the air.
FAN PRICING
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Sign up here: http://lmbpn.com/email/.
HOW TO MARKET FOR BOOKS YOU LOVE
Review them so others have your thoughts, and tell friends and the dogs of your enemies (because who wants to talk to enemies?)… Enough said ;-)
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle
War of the Four Worlds
The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 18
1
James stared at Thomas, his eyes narrowed. The dog stared back. Things would have been easier if the dog were acting more hostile. Even James had his weaknesses, and the dog was one of them.
It didn’t matter. The animal might be stubborn, but there was no creature on Earth or Oriceran more stubborn than James Brownstone, especially when he was trying to protect someone or something he cared about.
Maybe the Vax are more stubborn than me, but God willing, I’ll never meet one. And even if I do, I’ll just kick their ass.
The day’s contest was the latest in a long-lasting battle of wills. It was as if Thomas believed he could wear down James through sheer repetition of his demands. James didn’t know if a dog could truly be so manipulative, but he’d witnessed some clever tricks from his last dog, Leeroy, enough that he wouldn’t put it past this one.
Thomas barked and wagged his tail, a dastardly change in tactics.
James grunted.
That cute shit might work on Shay and Alison, but it won’t work on me.
Sitting on his haunches on the immaculate tile of James’ kitchen, Thomas tilted his head and let out a quiet whine, reading his master’s thoughts as effectively as Whispy Doom. He padded forward and pushed his food bowl with his nose before letting out another whine.
“Dogs shouldn’t have onions, boy,” James rumbled, a slight frown on his face. “And there’s a bunch of onions in the sauce I put in the refrigerator. It can make you sick. Why don’t you understand that shit?”
Thomas barked once, his eyes flicking in the direction of the refrigerator.
James pointed toward the living room. “No barbeque sauce, even if you are a Brownstone. That’s just the way it has to be. Now, get. Don’t make me pick you up and carry you in there. That’s gonna be embarrassing for both of us.”
Thomas offered a final whimper and scampered off, done with his attempted manipulation of his owner and crushed by James’ denial of the obviously tasty treat hidden away.
James could understand. As much as he ate barbeque, his dog must believe it was the ultimate food. And of course it was, if you were human.
A real man protected his dog as much as his dog protected him. James might have failed with Leeroy, but he would never again let a pet suffer at anyone’s hands, including his own. As for others who might think hurting Brownstone’s dog was a good idea, there were only so many international criminal organizations he could annihilate before there were none left.
Things had finally started to calm down, and something approaching simplicity had returned to James’ existence in the last several months. There hadn’t been a single level-five bounty in LA since he had taken out the remnants of the former CIA group Fortis, and Shay was content to continue planning the wedding and leave him out of the annoying process. She’d sent out some Save-The-Dates to their piles of guests with the help of the wedding planner Mary Winters.
Turns out even Shay can’t handle all this complicated planning shit on her own. I’m glad she finally brought the specialist in. For a while, it looked like she was going to make me do shit.
They were still figuring out a venue, but Mary was happy to learn there was no cap on the budget for the wedding. That was one of the reasons they could send out Save-The-Dates without having a venue fully locked down even conceptually. The n
umber of guests was irrelevant. They could always get a bigger venue, given enough money.
Huh. After the wedding and honeymoon are over, I’ll have to start seriously looking into setting up my own restaurant. Probably gonna need to get some help to handle all the annoying shit on that, too. It’s like everything worth doing is complicated now, even if my life has started to get simpler.
James realized after a moment that his life hadn’t gotten simpler. He’d simply pawned off all the complicated shit to other people. Maria, Trey, and Royce were running the agency, and Shay was handling the wedding. Maybe that was how normal rich assholes got so much done in their day? He’d spent most of his life not trusting other people enough to do that, though.
And now he did. Family had changed him, or maybe it was just time.
James grunted and headed toward the living room, shaking his head. Too much self-reflection would lead to brooding, and that would just waste his time. The only things worth thinking deeply about were barbeque and his family.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He frowned at the caller ID.
“Huh? Wonder why Charlyce is calling.” His receptionist was volunteering at the orphanage that day. “Fuck. I hope the pipes didn’t break again. If those assholes did a shitty job after Father McCartney paid them extra for the quick repair, I’m gonna go have a talk with them.” James brought the phone to his ear. “What’s up, Charlyce?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brownstone,” Charlyce replied. Her voice was unsteady and had a hint of panic in it. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t careful enough. At least I think that’s what happened. I’m so sorry.”
James’ mild irritation about the pipes vanished, deep concern replacing it. “What’s going on? Are the kids all right?”
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3 Page 100
