World of Darkness - [Time of Judgment 03] - Judgment Day

by Bruce Baugh (epub)

  “You see, ” she says.

  "I see it, but I don’t understand it, Maria. What is this? "

  “It was part of something like a fan. There were these silver pieces, and silk or something stretched between them. It shouldn’t have been any good as a weapon, but the beast with it sliced through everything it swung at. ”

  I want to press her for more, but I’m sure it would be a bad idea to do so. “I see. Is it safe to come out, do you think? ”

  She shrugs. “No idea. Give it a try, please. ”

  So I do, washing ray hands in a little pool of standing water and praying for protection for the task. At first it seems like the shaft won’t budge at all, then it moves out smoothly. She leans forward to press another old shirt against the exit wound.

  There are five or six inches of bloody silver wire here, humming with a remarkable power. I touch it... and then I realize what’s happened, even as she struggles to explain some more.

  “It was morning, ” she tells me. “We were getting set up for a family picnic, over there. ” She waves somewhere off to the east. I don’t need to know the details. “The sky turned icy silver, and these things tumbled out of thin air. They were... they were... "

  “Werewolves, ” I suggest.

  Now her shock clears some more, and she gives me a startled look. “Yes. But how? ”

  “I’ll tell you later, ” I promise. “Tell me the rest now. Draw out the story like the nail, and we can close up all the wound at once. "

  I see that she doesn’t trust me so much any more, but she does continue. “These... werewolves. One of them had the fan thing. They laid into us, I don’t know why. I saw all of my family killed just like that. They would have killed me, too. I was leaning back, and slipped, and so the thing hit my foot rather than my chest. I felt the spike break off, as I slid down into a culvert. They let me be while they tossed the bodies around. Then they were gone, and the sky was back, and I don’t know why. ”

  It’s a hard lesson for modern people to learn. In addition to the purely disembodied spirits I deal with (and that most shamans do), there are hybrid creatures, part animal, part human, part spirit, who can move through the realms more or less as they wish. They’re as dangerous and different as the meanest spirits out there, predators on the fringes of human society and awareness. Did one of Maria’s relatives give them offense? Could the picnic ground be turf they claim as holy? The werewolves have immensely complicated taboo systems, and it might take me quite a while to learn anything useful even if I had one of them right here and willing to talk. “Maria, listen to me. ” I don’t intrude too closely on her grief, but I do hand her one of my hankies for her tears. “You’ve run into one of the secret sides of the world, and it’s a terrible thing, but your life can continue. ”

  “It... ” Sobs rack her in sharp waves. “They..

  “Yes, ” I agree. “It’s like a nightmare let loose in daylight. Do you have a faith, a creed? ”

  The question disorients her. “What? I... no, I suppose. My parents are... were... ” She can’t finish the thought just now, and I don’t push that one at all.

  “If they had bothered talking to you, the werewolves would say that they guard the earth against its enemies, and have a story about your family’s sins. But they’d be right only in the light of your own taboos. The first thing you need to know is that this is not a judgment on you for anything that a wise or good human being should consider wrong. ” That’s a bit of a gamble, admittedly, but her soul seems clean enough to me that I’m willing to take the risk. “This was a tragedy, a terrible tragedy, and as unrelated to you as a person as a car accident would be. ”

  “But how can such things be? ” A sensible enough question. “What the hell kind of world is this? ”

  I think about how to proceed. “A strange and sick one, ” I tell her. “Strange enough to include werewolves, sick enough to be unable to keep them from slaughtering innocents. And full of many more sorrows and mysteries, along with all the things you already knew about. ”

  “What can I do about it? ”

  “Quite a lot, it turns out. ” I smile again. “There are spirits willing to serve and ways to use their power to serve you rather than prey on you. ”

  She frowns. “That sounds like shamanism bullshit. ”

  “Half right. ”

  “Huh? ”

  “It is shamanism. It’s just not bullshit. ” Time to take another gamble. I look away from her to see where my totem is. “Rubbish, show yourself to her. ” “Um, I’ve seen trash, ” she objects.

  “Yes, but in this case Rubbish is a name rather than a description. Look there, ” I point. The Rubbish pulls itself into the outline of a human being lying on the ground, with a more detailed face. The face smiles.

  Damn, I’ve pushed too far. Maria shrieks and falls back. “No, no, no, ” she repeats while shaking her head vigorously.

  I take her hand. “Yes, Maria. Yes. You have it within you to become a living weapon against those who’d attack people like your relatives. It takes time and practice, but if you’re willing to travel with me, I can teach you as I go. ”

  She looks east for a long time, while the spirits swirl around us. “All right. I don’t believe a word of it, but then it’s a strange time, isn’t it? ” I nod but don’t speak, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts right now. “I can certainly listen, and I don’t have anywhere else to go. ”

  “We’ll let you rest a little while longer and be on our way, then, ” I say. “But first let’s get your foot bandaged more properly. ”

  * * *

  WILLIAM

  The car we hear approaching crests the last hill and proves to be something less than an entirely reassuring sight, because there’s nobody driving it. It’s a jeep with an automatic-navigation system and the all-weather housing for a limited AI strapped into the driver’s seat. We sometimes use such things on guard duties when manpower is sufficiently scarce. That someone was around to set it up is, as far as it goes, a good sign, but it’d be nice to see a driver in it now.

  It doesn’t display any obvious big weaponry. The somewhat alarming-looking package resting in the passenger seat is a sensor array. I’ve installed units like it myself, and Nicolas has actually designed some for the exotic environments his unit studies. Used to study. Dammit, whenever I get used to the reality of the losses we’re facing, something comes along to make it fresh. Anyway, we know what’s going on. It’s checking us for Union identification and performing basic biometric evaluation to see if we’re the people our ID describes. We are, so as soon as the scan finishes, the jeep pulls up along aside us and parks, its engine still running.

  The speech synthesizer on board is basic, by our standards, which is to say that it has full dynamics and inflection but sounds like someones speaking through a cold. Years ahead of anything that anyone outside the Union has, of course, but years behind for us. Its presence in this rig is one more sign of how jury-rigged the whole contraption is. “Agents, you are not authorized for operations in this area, but the chain of command for violation review is inactive. Please state the nature of your business. ”

  I start to say something, but Nicolas is much faster on his feet with this sort of thing. “We came here because of the inactivity in our chains of command. We assumed, apparently wrongly, that higher-priority facilities like this one would escape the petty problems afflicting our units. Is there anyone of independent volition here to whom we can report?

  We program units like this with a delay slightly longer than an average human being requires to respond to an unexpected request, for psychological reasons. The actual computation happens far faster than a human could process anything, of course. But we found that when the AI answers too quickly, the humans who have to work with it feel consistently intimidated. The slowdown lets users feel like they’re the equal of or slightly superior to the AI when it comes to authority to act on whatever matter’s being discussed. Even though I kno
w all this, it works on me just as well as it does on anyone else. I gain a bit of confidence simply because the AI waits for a noticeable fraction of a second before saying, “No, there are no human beings left in this facility. ”

  Nicolas continues in his best command manner. “Brief us. "

  The AI makes another of its submissive pauses before calling up a hologram of the facility and environs. This obviously incorporates stock stored details with images culled out of real-time observations from the recent past—yesterday, I think, judging from the clouds. I remember those looming thunderheads that dissolved before delivering any rain. Men and women go about their business around the various buildings. An overlay shows power consumption. “For full access, verify Ragnarok status. ”

  I motion with one hand to Nicolas to keep quiet, and reel off a pair of passwords and code phrases. The Al asks, “Why does the other visitor not identify himself? ”

  Fortunately, we have protocols for that. “My colleague is under temporary authorization and stored in the files only at specific facilities. I am using my command rights to cover him. Review the Temporary Authorization Protocols Addendum. ”

  The Al does just that. “Verified. Building B, marked here in red, was dedicated to research into fundamental force manipulation. Its staff had best results in gravity wave generation and focus, relying in part on devices captured during the 1984 and 1986 Lunar raids. Please indicate if you need clarification at this time. ” It pauses. We keep quiet. Neither of us wants to follow the endless network of cross-references possible for this kind of thing. “Proceeding. The gravity wave sheet was scheduled to replace a variety of independently developed small-scale anti-gravity systems, pending the outcome of a large-scale trial scheduled to begin yesterday. ”

  The image flickers briefly, and a time marker shows that we’re watching data from yesterday playing out at four times actual speed. “Something went wrong. ” Most AIs have limited rhetorical capability, and I’m sure that this one means to report in a straightforward manner. It certainly reeks of sarcasm, though. The power diagram shows a whole cascade of sudden surges, originating deep inside the building rather than coming in from outside. I guess, silently for the moment, that it was just one of those bits of quantum-mechanical chaos that I’ve seen so much of lately. Unfortunately, the net effect is to power up the gravity wave generators while under-powering the regulator and focus mechanisms. So...

  “Here, ” the AI says while adding some more overlays, “you may see the emergence of multiple layers of polarized gravity operating more or less in parallel. ” Indeed we can: it’s like watching a building-sized sandwich blow up. Alternating strata become too heavy and too light, the light ones exploding out sideways while the heavy ones collapse as if they were suddenly on Jupiter. “Notice the particular problems with organic material in this environment. ” It magnifies the area right around a doorway. “The subjects’ major proteins all unfolded and rapid dissolution into inorganic components followed. ” That’s one way of putting it, yes. The process looks uncomfortably similar to what I saw on Mars.

  “Thank you, ” Nicolas remarks as we walk around the hologram, studying replays with various combinations of overlay added and subtracted.

  “Certainly, ” the AI replies. “I am glad that there are human agents on hand to observe phase two. ” What the hell? “Please explain phase two, ” I direct as calmly as I can.

  “One of the goals of this experiment was the measurement of effects on human physiology of this sort of gravity manipulation. The destruction of the facility made this goal unattainable. The directing AIs have therefore settled on a new test site and are in the process of relocating the necessary equipment. ”

  “What test site did you settle on? *’

  “Roswell, central district. ” The Al can’t sound agitated or gloating, of course. That must be me projecting.

  “And you wish us to watch from some designated safe distance. ” Nicolas isn’t asking.

  “That’s correct, ” the Al agrees. “We have prepared a short roster of such locales in the hope that qualified observers would present themselves before the first triggering. ”

  I take over the responses. “What measures have you taken to see that there’s no repetition of the phase one surge problem? ”

  The AI gives me an extremely long answer, which boils down to something not far from “We hope a lot and our hearts are pure so it can’t be a problem. ”

  Nicolas and I don’t even bother exchanging glances. “As the ranking operative of the Technocratic Union, with special authority via Project Ragnarok, ” I address it, “I order the immediate end to phase two preparations and their indefinite suspension pending review by a competent board of examiners constituted under the Protocols for External Validation. Confirm and transmit. ” I add the trio of codes required to back that up.

  “Negative, ” the Al replies, and now the social-reinforcement delay is gone. “You lack standing to order such action, and I am unable to obtain secondary confirmation of your status. You will be treated as an unreliable operative. If you attempt to interfere with phase two, you will be restrained by such force as the affected units deem necessary. That is all. ” With that, the jeep turns around and drives off.

  Now Nicolas and I do stare at each other, and at the ruins, and at the dust cloud of the receding jeep, and back at each other. “I think we’ve got to do something about this, ” I say, and he nods.

  “I can go cross-country, ” he points out. “I’ve got a reading on that unit’s output and can scan as I go. You get your van set up to receive my transmissions. Let’s get these things identified and see about putting a stop to them. ” As soon as he sees me nod, he jumps up and runs off at what must be at least forty kilometers an hour, jumping over barriers with amazingly fluid grace. The silver segments in his feet gleam in the desert sun, reminding me of what this is about. The world deserves its chance to be so beautifully glorious, even if that requires a lot of effort from ugly gimps like me.

  * * *

  Dante As the universe becomes increasingly disordered, I make more of an effort to maintain my own local coherence. The force with which I merged, back when I left my body and entered the realm beyond time, is itself changing unpredictably. It feels less itself and more an integral component of something else, so that any effort to draw specifically on the power of transnormal connection and non-local causality or identity becomes enmeshed with everything else—the soul, matter, the raw essence of magic, and all the rest. I am repeatedly flung out of my precarious union and back into a single self, for seconds or even minutes at a time.

  In these moments of transition, just when I slip into or out of union with the power I served, I’m acutely aware of various figures I’ve encountered in my “time” here where symbols live. Several times (and how strange it is to again have “several times" as an entirely meaningful description), I see visions of that triad I encountered before learning of the impending judgment myself. I remember their gaining extra avatars and how they spent those avatars to retain life, and I wonder what else fate may have in store for them. They are physically separate again, but it feels to me like they have some future together yet to come.

  * * *

  MING XIAN

  The seasons are no longer reliable, but it feels like early autumn when all the factories far away from urban centers bum over the course of four days. Someone or something started the fires, but the local investigators find no leads. Rumor blames orbital weaponry, inhuman arsonists out to take over the world and exterminate humanity, the CIA, and other objects of fetishistic obsession. The day after the last of the fires start, a sudden torrent of warm and reeking rain extinguishes them. The day after that, the shadow creatures begin preying on the people I guard.

  These are, judging from the accounts of the survivors in my clinic, much like the hungry ghost that stalked me through the underworld. Indeed, at first I think it’s just that thing come again. It may be, but there�
�s also more at work. There are at least three of the shadow beasts, and possibly two or three times that many. They do not speak, and they show little sense of strategy. They’re drawn toward living beings, whom they engulf and suck dry. Once they’ve fed, they become sluggish and withdraw into some dark comer, which is the only reason anyone in the vicinity of one of their attacks manages to survive.

  On the second day of the things’ reign of terror, I decide that I must do something about it. My ancestors may no longer answer my prayers and invocations, but there are rites of protection that depend on the very elements, and while the world becomes ever more disordered, it’s not yet that disordered. I can gird myself with the vigor of fire, the purity of metal, the wisdom of water, the endurance of earth, and the resilience of wood, after an afternoon’s meditations. None of it shows, of course, rather to the disappointment of the young medical intern who helps with the rites. He wanted to see me become some sort of cinematic special effect, I think, and lacks the capacity to see the changes in my aura.

  A row of abandoned warehouses runs alongside the oldest of the rail lines in this district, and I decide to begin my search there. There haven’t been Still it fails to realize the threat of my outer ring of force.

  Finally I’m ready. I spin my hands in the opposite direction from the way I’ve been moving them since this battle began. My inner ring shoots outward, pushing the composite creature back, back, back right into the outer ring. The cry of pain this time is far louder in my soul than any of the ones before, and I know that I’m likely to pass out in mere seconds. The creature tries to pull apart for ease in flight, but the elemental powers melt the individual entities back together as fast as they can separate. Finally the thing has but one choice left, and takes it. It folds itself down and out of the living world, back into the yin realm. Before it goes, it manages to form a single word out of the passing gusts: