Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

  An unusually dark, drunk hyena painted like a skeleton stumbled into Tomek with a gourd sloshing in his paws. He looked the wide-eyed wolf up and down, said something Tomek didn’t understand, then slapping his cloaked shoulders staggered away again.

  “What did he say?” Tomek asked Casimir, craning his neck to follow the stumbling hyena visually.

  “It was complimentary,” the rabbit assured, tugging the wolf along. “Sort of.”

  As Casimir led him through the camp towards lines of trucks and bikes – some monos but mostly ordinary two-wheelers – Tomek passed many more hyenas drinking and laughing, drowning their sorrows and fears. Some sat quietly twiddling their thumbs or sharpening weapons, others cried whilst looking at photos or fondling trinkets. They weren’t monsters or idiots, but beasts, each as complex and whole as Madou or Noss. Even Nurka was no mad beast, he was as erudite and measured as Rufus. What has Lupa done to drive Nurka to this desperate act? Were the Reservations and re-education camps so bad? Maybe, but poisoning thousands and starting another war is no way to solve anything.

  Tomek remembered that day, not long after Rufus had passed through the Lupan Wall on his way to Gelb, being called into the Elder Watcher’s office to meet ALPHA Prefect Janoah Valerio, leaving his loyal ant Scuttle outside.

  “What do you think of hyenas?” Janoah had asked him, looking out the window at the passing trains.

  “I… think they… well… uh….” Tomek had stumbled, standing to attention.

  “Pity they can’t just fall into line, isn’t it?” Janoah had urged mischievously.

  Relieved to be directed, Tomek had agreed, “It better for them to do so, Prefect.”

  “Better than being wiped out?” Janoah had suggested further. “Because that’s what’ll happen if THORN succeeds, you know. If hyenas are ever to be tolerated, as my husband desires, we must first save them from themselves, and from Amael.” She had turned to Tomek, looked him up and down with her marvellous green eyes. “You’re quite a wolf… for a cub. You’ve been of great assistance to me and my husband, but you could do more. You could be a wolfen hero and save our great Republic. Does that interest you, Usenko?”

  “Lad!”

  Tomek came back to the present, to the truck that Casimir was climbing inside.

  “Stop daydreaming and crank the engine!” the gruff rabbit commanded, wiggling an S-shaped crank-shaft down at him from the cabin. “Hurry before we’re seen.”

  “Right,” Tomek nodded, dashing round front and inserting the dirty old truck’s manual crank into the hole just beneath the grille – there weren’t many vehicles like this anymore, it was an antique! Nonetheless, with a few vigorous rotations the engine rumbled into tremulous life, spluttering clouds of choking ash into the once-pristine undergrowth.

  A tent nearby parted and an ash-stained hyena with goggles on his head dashed over to Tomek. He waved his oily paws and spluttered hyena syllables that were nonsensical to Tomek’s pricked ears.

  The young wolf shrugged and spread his paws as the hyena berated him. “Sorry, I not speak hyena.”

  Rapping on the truck window to gain the goggled hyena’s attention, Casimir beckoned him round to the open door. The hyena stormed over and had it out with the rabbit, exchanging heated words for a good minute, wasting precious time.

  This won’t do.

  Tomek came up behind the hyena and, with a glance about, tapped the crankshaft to his goggled head.

  Pfzzzt!

  Channelling a blast of plasma down the shaft, Tomek sent the fellow down, catching him before he hit the ground – the rumbling truck and rowdy party veiled the violent action.

  “What’ve you done?” Casimir yelped, tugging on his ears.

  “Is fine,” Tomek excused, dragging the unconscious fellow away and dumping him in the damp ferns. He climbed inside the trembling truck and slammed its rusty door, “Let’s go.”

  “I had everything under control.”

  “Go! Come on!”

  Adrenaline pumping, Casimir revved the engine and directed the gurgling, ash-billowing, open-backed truck through the camp and onto the anonymous Everdor road. Nobody stopped them.

  “We’re on our way, lad.”

  Tomek watched the THORN camp’s entrance retreat rapidly in the mirror.

  As the road bent and obscured the camp from view, Tomek thought he caught a glimpse a familiarly hefty, stocky hyena standing at the gate.

  Madou?

  *

  The sunny platforms of Hummelton Station darkened under rolling clouds of ash as the magnificent Greystone Elder Train eased into dock, huffing and puffing to a controlled halt between the polished blue Eisbrand and black Bloodfang engines parked either side. The enormous Greystone contrivance dwarfed them, with its twelve gigantic sets of driving wheels as oppose to the eight and six of the Eisbrand and Bloodfang machines respectively, and sporting an imperium tender as large as a normal carriage to boot. Its sooty flanks were slashed by great gills that spurted ribbons of ash like an industrial shark choking on embers, and so tangled with pipes, valves and rivets was it that the engine appeared naked, as if the outer hull had been stripped away to reveal its secret inner workings. The Greystones were a practical pack, less concerned by the beauty of their trains and cars than being able to quickly access and fix problems. The Bloodfang train, no sleek beauty itself, looked fancy by comparison, whilst the contoured Eisbrand engine looked a positive dandy.

  Linus made such comparisons as he stood at the Bloodfang dining car windows, watching the Greystones disembarking and being greeted by the same Hummel Eldress that had escorted Amael that very morning. Den Father Flaid, recently elected, stepped down from his carriage in a dour dark Grey cloak and light grey armour with yellow-imperium highlights. A tall, very powerful brown wolf whose muscular arms were flecked with scars, Flaid cut an imposing and vigorous figure indeed. He and Eldress Brynn shook paws and hugged – it was nothing personal, the Greystones were a tactile lot, a family pack, and Hummel simply accommodated. Thorvald had been welcomed by Cora with stiff Eisbrand protocol and ALPHA their simple salutes, before driving to the Den together. Linus had noted everything whilst helping cheerful Hummel little beasts sort the Bloodfang luggage and load it onto cars for the short drive to Hummelton’s Den.

  It wasn’t so much the Elders Linus was interested in, but Sara. He looked up and down the station platforms, searching, always searching. If ALPHA were here then Sara should be too, somewhere.

  Perhaps she’s slipped back to Hummel, to her mother, and taken Olivia with her. Perhaps Den Mother Cora would sort everything out now, for Sara’s sake.

  Maybe they’d be safe.

  “Gelb’s been raided,” huffed Vladimir, entering the dining car and shutting the door.

  Linus peeled his eyes from the goings-on outside, “Sir?”

  His superior walked over and ducked to peer through the windows at the Greystones himself. “THORN has attacked the prison for some reason, perhaps to rescue dissidents. The Warden was found in a river with his head caved in and half the hog guards are missing, and those they did find have been horrifically dismembered, torn into pieces they say.”

  Linus scoffed, “By hyenas?”

  “Unlikely,” Vladimir dismissed. “Most likely it was the ants that live around Gelb scavenging their bodies, but the papers won’t let facts like that get in the way of blackening hyenas further. As I’ve said, every action THORN takes backfires against their own people. The worst is yet to come.”

  Vladimir heaved a sigh. He continued.

  “Cora, Thorvald and Amael have agreed there’s to be a curfew tonight – I’m sure Flaid will agree to it as well.”

  “Curfew, sir?”

  “Yes, Mills. We’re to pack our bags and head back to our assigned rooms at the Den; only Hummel Howlers and beasts with the correct papers will be allowed to roam about after dark, no outsiders.” Vladimir pondered further, “I’m surprised Amael didn’t protest the idea. Perhaps that m
eans his fellow conspirators have already planted a bomb.”

  “Or they’re crooked Hummel Howlers, sir, or just beasts with the correct papers.”

  A considered Vladimir nod.

  Linus dipped his chin, “I… I feel so out of my depth.”

  “Oh?” Vladimir said, taking his leave. “That’s how I’ve felt every day for months.”

  Linus worked his way through the dining saloon and many a specialised carriage; a lounge car with plush sofas, a library car with bureaus for writing, even a bathing car which, Linus was ashamed to say, he hadn’t utilised; the water was rationed anyway, a minute of hot water, thirty seconds to soap, thirty to rinse, it was better to just use Glimmer and a comb.

  Arriving in the sleeper car Linus ducked into his cabin. The door closed rapidly behind him.

  The wind?

  Linus turned in time to see an all-black Howler slap him in the side of the head with a rapier and a spark of imperious plasma.

  Bzz-tack!

  Chapter 48

  “Noss?”

  The kneeling hyena Prince looked up from his prayers to see a Howler peer into his tent. For a second Noss thought it was Tomek. Had he failed to get away? Had Casimir? Am I rumbled?

  “Red-mist,” Noss realised, chuckling, “You’re walking!”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Rufus slipped inside the prince’s tent. His cloak and helm obscured any sign of wounds and bandages, but his limp and slight sideways stoop gave the pain away.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Where’s Tomek?”

  Noss smiled a little and dipped his chin; he was rumbled, albeit in a different way. “Gone, I hope,” he whispered.

  “Gone?”

  “I sent him and the rabbit to warn the Howlers of THORN’s intentions whilst I try and talk Nurka down. I know what he’s going to do; he’s told me… everything.”

  Noss didn’t get any further before Rufus dived on him, grabbing his cloak and pulling the massive hyena to his feet in defiance of his injuries.

  “You had no right to put Tomek in danger!” Rufus seethed furiously. “You’re not even a Howler; you’re nothing but a criminal!”

  Noss weathered the storm, then replied calmly, “Tomek wants to help protect your precious Republic. He’s not a boy, he’s an ALPHA agent. Janoah got to him, or didn’t you know-”

  “She had no right either; he’s sixteen for Ulf’s sake!”

  “So? Will you sacrifice thousands of innocent lives just to keep one of your handsome betas safe? Are you that self-indulgent? Tomek for one would rather fight than cower. I admire his bravery as much as I do Nurka’s.”

  Rufus frowned beneath his helm.

  “Yes, Red-mist,” Noss grunted, “Nurka, Themba and Madou are as dear to me as your betas, and every bit the warriors I hoped they would be. Yet I must save my people from them. If we are seen to kill thousands of innocents it’s not just wolfkind that will never forgive us, but every other race too. The cats of Felicia will not be seen to deal with such a degenerate regime, save to cross the sea with half their Valours to destroy it! And no little beast will ever turn a wheel or sew a field for us, not if we stoop so low. Amael; he knows this. He’ll blame my people for everything, pin it all on Nurka, and make himself out to be Lupa’s saviour. When all other Den Fathers died, he alone survived and brought Lupa back together – that’s his sick dream. There is no other way for him to commit genocide and yet remain in power.”

  Rufus slowly removed his paws from Noss, “Yes… I know,” and nursing his wounds grunted, “What is Nurka’s plan?”

  Tidying his duotone cloak about his great chest, Noss glanced at the tent flaps and growled as soberly as Rufus had ever heard a hyena, “He’s going to drop black-imperium on Hummelton, tomorrow, during the opening ceremony.”

  Silence reigned.

  “Drop?”

  “From the sky,” Noss said, eyes looking up, “from an… airship.”

  Rufus scoffed in amazement, then clapped a paw to his helmeted head with a metallic ding. “By Ulf that’s it! Why didn’t I see it? Not a bomb, but a chemical rain!” He turned away, ashamed of his own dim-wittedness, “Heath and I once discussed using dirigibles to spray farmland with white-imperium to increase crop yield. Heath pointed out that all you’d need do is swap out white for black and you could kill thousands and desolate hundreds of square miles of land for centuries. How did it not occur to me that someone else would think of the very same thing?”

  “Because you’re a benign fool, Red-mist. What matters is what we do about it, you and I.”

  “You know what to do!” Red-mist asserted. “You have to face Nurka down. Use your position as the prince to pull rank on him. That’s why I helped him get you out, because you can end this without a shot being fired. You and only you, Noss.”

  Noss turned away, “A sound theory, but… I’m nothing to them now.”

  “Don’t be absurd!” Rufus woofed. “Nurka got you out of Gelb because you’re the most important hyena alive. He thinks you’ll help provide him with authority, but you’ll do the exact opposite. Even if he doesn’t obey you, the others will. They have to.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you blind? They all bow to you as you pass; Madou scrapes his nose in the mud for you and he’s no pushover. You have to try, Noss.”

  Noss paced to and fro, “I fully intend to, but… I also know where the black-imperium is hidden.”

  “Nurka showed you,” Rufus said; it wasn’t so much a question as a statement.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is it?”

  Noss ceased pacing. “In a small cave north of here, hidden behind some thorn bushes; I broke fern fronds and scuffed my feet in the mud to leave tracks.”

  Rufus chirped, “Good thinking.”

  “Now I don’t know what to do; destroy the imperium or face Nurka. I cannot do both, if I shoot my bolt it can only be one or the other.”

  “Why?”

  A toothy, Noss-brand grin, “Because breaking one of the canisters will not only pollute the cave and the whole cache beyond retrieval, but kill whoever does it. I cannot face Nurka if I’m dead, Red-mist.”

  “That has occurred to me.”

  Noss spread his big paws, “What should I do?”

  Rufus looked into nowhere, into the thinking space between worlds. “The hyenas will need you when this is all over. Forget the cache; face Nurka. The worst he can do is refuse to listen. He can’t harm you – you’re sacrosanct.”

  “I’m no coward,” Noss growled.

  “Talking Nurka down from this madness is a braver thing than betraying him, believe me.”

  After some foot-shuffles and nods, Noss said, “I’ll have to make my move soon, before Tomek and Casimir are missed. My people won’t appreciate a wolf interfering, not even one honoured by our colours. You had best stay out of it. Go whilst you can.”

  Rufus beamed, “I’ll make myself scarce, but I’ll not abandon you.” He held out a paw, “Whatever happens, I’ll be with you, Noss of the Jua-mata.”

  The massive hyena eventually grasped the svelte wolf’s ruddy paw and pulled him into a firm embrace, “Thank you, Red-mist. I do not deserve such trust, not after… I betrayed you-”

  “Oh don’t get all soppy, you big spotty flannel!”

  “Grrfghahahahaaaaa!”

  Rufus winced for his wounds, and the private knowledge that he would never see Noss again whatever happened, nor Janoah, Ivan or anyone else.

  *

  The late afternoon sun glittered sideways through regiments of rapidly-passing trees, painting Casimir’s truck in flickering veins of gold and blue. The fact the setting sun was even visible meant the forest was thinning – the open plains of Everdor were near.

  We’re going to make it, Tomek thought.

  The truck’s engine began to pop and thrum, quietly at first, but with growing strength until Tomek could feel the vibrations in his cloaked chest.

  It wasn’t the truck
at all.

  “That’s a mono engine,” the young wolf realised, his wolfen heart leaping into his fangs.

  “I hear it,” Casimir said shakily, peering in the nearest wing mirror.

  Doing the same, Tomek spied a fluttering cloaked figure coming up fast, the glint of a monobike’s polished shell nestled between his armoured legs. The flicker of sunlight and shadow made the rider’s colour and form hard to discern.

  “Maybe is Hummel Watcher?” Tomek Bloodfang hoped against hope.

  With one eye on the road and another on the mono, Casimir fondled for his pistol, “I don’t think so, lad. That’s one of the Chakaa. Rest of the hyenas won’t be far behind, I bet.”

  Tomek didn’t have a weapon, but was never without the corona of a Howler. He raised a paw and clenched his fingers several times, bracing himself for the necessary pain.

  There came a sudden surge from monobike engine – the rider was attempting to overtake!

  “Block him, Casimir!” Tomek advised.

  “I’ll thumping try, lad!”

  The truck swerved this way and that as Casimir attempted to thwart the rider from getting ahead, but the mono was as the nimble ant to a ponderous beetle and whipped past on the inside of a turn.

  “Sneaky maggot!” Casimir cursed, readying his pistol.

  The now obviously hyena rider manoeuvred in front like a Howler pulling over a speeding vehicle. With a long straight in the road ahead he matched the truck’s speed, twisted his body with a pistol in his paw, and took aim at the cabin.

  “That’s Madou!” Tomek woofed, recognising that stocky build. He wound down the window and shouted, “Madou stop! Please! Hear us out!”

  Casimir pulled Tomek back, “Get down, lad!”

  At the last second Madou changed his mind and lowered his aim to the wheels.

  Crack!

  Its left tyre deflating fast, the truck veered wildly, threatening to tumble into a muddy ditch running parallel to the road. Casimir dropped his pistol in his lap and with both paws on the wheel skilfully wrestled back control, even as the tyre beneath him collapsed hopelessly, churning up mud and pebbles. Teeth clenched, the rabbit changed down a gear or two and returned to the road. Tossing his pistol to Tomek he shouted with conviction and bloodlust no little beast was supposed to possess, “Take him out, lad, I got my paws full!”