All That We Are (The Commander Book 7)

by Randall Farmer

  I suspected I would find out soon enough what she had kept hidden in her back pocket.

  Earl Robert Sellers

  “They’re out there, creeping closer, under powerful metasense protections,” the Earl said. Ready for battle, he crouched in silence along with Duke Hoskins, Count Knox, and their leading combat-ready Commoners Gwen, Pam and Suzie, and Crow Sky, who had just arrived to tell them to switch to deployment seven. Each of the Nobles wore his combat form today. Their small group had commandeered a tiny section of the reception hall rooftop, on the far right, next to the two-story passageway connecting the hotel to the reception hall. Well over two hundred well-armed normals and household Transforms readied themselves for battle on the rooftop, some armed with heavy weaponry fit for a military battlefield.

  Few of them knew the Noble’s strike force was present, as Crow Sky’s protections covered them. Those who could see, saw more normal humans. Mostly, they cursed the sudden rainstorm.

  “Wandering Shade’s covering a huge area with his metasense protections, more than I ever imagined possible, dammit,” Sky said, his voice low and almost panicky. “This is both a good and bad thing.”

  “Good and bad?” Duke Hoskins said. “Sounds all bad to me. What’s he covering that we haven’t anticipated? Armored personnel carriers? Tanks?”

  Sky shook his head. “I would be able to hear either,” he said. “No vehicles. They’re coming in on foot. As to what might be good about this? That’s easy. Wandering Shade’s depleting himself before the fight, a crazy thing for a Crow to be doing.”

  “How depleted?” Duke Hoskins said. “Will he still be able to do Crow tricks?”

  Sky nodded. “Trust me, you don’t want to imagine how crazy a fight like this could get if Wandering Shade horded his dross for a few minutes of battle. He’s carrying beaucoup dross, but every Crow has his maxcap, even the senior Crows. He’ll be down to just deadly, not fatal, by the time he reaches here.”

  Sellers continued to reach out with his special metasense, degraded by the rain and the distant lightning. The feeling of illness continued to grow, which he interpreted as the enemy, slowly creeping in, likely less than three miles away. The Commander had set up a network of Crows for metasense coverage, but had told them all to stay close to the reception hall. All of her people, including her reserves, the ones on the ground hidden behind the reception hall, were in close. The enemy didn’t know that, and crept in slowly, alert for patrols.

  He also metasensed an Arm, coming closer, leaping toward them from the banquet hall, the much smaller piece of the hotel that stuck out at a funny angle behind them, giving cover to the Commander’s reserve force. Arm Haggerty bothered Earl Sellers, too young a Major Transform to be involved in such a fight as this. He didn’t understand the Arms strengths and weaknesses enough to know how big a problem she would be. Could she hold her mind together in a combat and keep from attacking her allies? Or didn’t Arms have that problem?

  The Arm stopped thirty feet from them, bowed, and walked slowly toward their group. “Nothing,” she said. “I’ve got nothing.”

  “They’re within three miles, coming in from the west, on foot, ma’am,” Sellers said. The Duke and Count Knox startled their attention toward Haggerty and Sellers, and he realized that neither of them had metasensed Haggerty’s approach. Interesting.

  “So, Duke Hoskins, does that thing work when you’re in your Beast form?” Haggerty asked, a smile on her face. She was a long leggy woman, beautiful for an Arm, at least in comparison to the other two. As she spoke, she bent over slightly and eyed the Duke’s incongruous manhood, hanging down below his crab shell, between his legs.

  “Ma’am, it works just fine in all situations,” the Duke said. “Would you like a demonstration?”

  Arm Haggerty walked up to the Duke, to stand shoulder to, well, crab shell with him. “Perhaps later, if we live through this crazy battle,” she said. She looked him up and down, and smiled a suggestive smile.

  Yes, she was nothing like the other two Arms. Sellers hoped she did, indeed, live through the coming battle. If what he and his peers had seen in the clouds was correct, he worried about any of them living through the battle. Lightning flashed to their north, a few miles distant, illuminating a massive inky ground cloud, about two miles distant, to their west. A dross illusion, it had to be, covering up the enemy army from normal eyeballs. It looked strange to him, and he gave it some thought, and focused his metasense on the illusion.

  “I believe they may be splitting up,” Sellers said, worried. Was he metasensing reality, or was Wandering Shade messing with his metasense?

  “That’s not Crow tactics,” Sky said. “That’s utter idiocy. Well, from a Crow’s perspective, at least. I think our Commander is correct, and a Hunter is in charge of the battle strategy and tactics.”

  Enkidu. The one the Commander called the General. Something had changed among the Hunters, if Wandering Shade was allowing a Hunter to lead them into battle.

  Sellers didn’t think this was a good thing. Not at all.

  Tonya Biggioni

  “Tell me what you see.”

  “Ma’am?” Delia said, confused by Tonya’s question. The reception had settled into the Dearborn Hyatt’s main ballroom, probably one of the few places big enough to hold them all. Tonya didn’t want to think about how much money this reception cost Gail’s father, but Gail said he could afford it. He stood over by where the band set up after their break, looking like he was about to burst the buttons of his suit with pride. Tonya had been teaching Delia about other Focuses and households all evening.

  “There,” Tonya said. Delia followed Tonya’s eyes.

  “That’s interesting,” Delia said. “Gail has female bodyguards.” The best man had bodyguard written all over him and watched over everything with an attitude of cold suspicion. It took a good eye to see that his wife, Gail’s maid of honor, had the bodyguard training as well.

  “I hear they got their initial training from Beth’s people, but that Wini made them take a month of training with her people, too, and Wendy leaned on them to follow Stacy’s suggestion and train up their able women as bodyguards,” Tonya said.

  Delia nodded thoughtfully. “So what do you think of Gail’s household, ma’am? I know you’ve been watching over her for the last nine months.”

  Tonya leaned back in her chair and sighed. “They’re a lot better than they were when I first contacted Gail. I would rate it about mid-level, promising for a Focus of Gail’s age.”

  “Not better than mid-level, for a Focus of her promise?” Delia said. Over at the bandstand, the band, some of Grace Johnson’s people, started to tune up. The room became even louder as everyone raised their voices over the band.

  “Gail’s taking her household down an entirely new path,” Tonya said. “Like Inferno, her household has tremendous potential, but also like Inferno, it’s going to take years to come together properly.”

  “So no bigger things for Gail and her household for now,” Delia said. “I hope they can afford the years.”

  “I hope so, too.” Tonya watched Gail thoughtfully, over by the punch bowl and so happy she bubbled. Bigger things, Tonya thought, and wondered what Delia meant. Gail had made a decent start, especially given her initial troubles, and she had a good heart to keep her honest. Her leadership style was ‘barely controlled chaos’, which meant weak central leadership and a lot of household power invested in her Transforms and normals. She read household authority on quite a few of Gail’s people, especially in Van, the best man, and Gail’s maid of honor.

  “The big test will come when Gail’s charisma fully comes in,” Tonya said, flickering her eyes over at Linda Cooley, trying to hide the fact she snorted down some expensive noxious drug as if it was play money. Tonya strongly suspected Linda used her potent yet motherly charisma to score herself ‘product samples’. “Quite a few Focuses fall by the wayside due to the temptations inherent in strong charisma. If she can handle her ch
arisma, and her household matures, she’ll be Council quality.” The Council could use another strong competent Focus. Esther Weiczokowski, the Midwest region rep, wasn’t truly Council quality, in Tonya’s opinion.

  “Council quality?” Delia made a face. “What a hell of a thing to curse some young Focus with. Couldn’t you steer her toward something less destructive, like Focus Rizzari’s Cause?”

  “You think it might be better to let her grow into her power and not be forced into it out of necessity?” Tonya said. Delia nodded. “That might be for the best. If we can afford it.”

  Delia smiled. Tonya took another sip of punch and picked at the wedding cake on her plate. Over at the bandstand, the band, all Transforms, segued into ‘Octopus’s Garden’ at a volume that shook the rafters. Tonya appreciated the jazz they had started with, but the young folks wanted to dance. Gail’s father went charging up and the notes faded off as he hollered at them to play something more suitable for a first dance. Tonya smiled and shook her head. The band must be either new at weddings, or flustered by their audience.

  “Time to circulate,” she said to her people.

  “Oh, Tonya, I’m so glad you could come!” Gail said, giddy and laughing, and then gave her a huge hug. Tonya hugged her back, a little more restrained, and ignored the way Danny’s jaw clenched. Gail’s best man, following after, didn’t look any too happy either.

  “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you,” Tonya said, and smiled. Gail was a beautiful Focus whose transformation did well by her. Her best feature was her gorgeous chestnut hair, just beginning to grow out. Tonya hoped Gail would let it grow long. It would be magnificent.

  “Hello again, Focus Biggioni,” Van said. He was a tall gangly man with a ponytail and observant eyes, and he wasn’t the sort of person Tonya thought appealing. He was, as he had showed in their one earlier meeting, as nervy as Gail, and likely more intelligent. He had gotten along better with Stacy, who appreciated the big-ego brainy types.

  “Congratulations to you also,” Tonya said.

  “Thank you, Focus,” Van said, looking both happily overwhelmed and awkward. A social butterfly he wasn’t.

  “And this is Kurt,” Gail said, pulling the best man forward. “I’ve told you about him.”

  Oh, Gail, Tonya thought, your drug dealer is your best man and a household leader. When you give Wini a handle on you, you don’t think small.

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said. “I hear good things about how well you’ve been taking care of your Focus.”

  “Thanks,” he said, startled.

  “I wanted to tell you,” Gail said, “thank you so much for the silverware. Eighty place settings! That’s enough for everyone in the household.”

  “My pleasure. So will you have some sort of honeymoon?”

  “Yes, Van’s parents gave it to us. We’re not really going anywhere, but we’ve got three nights in the honeymoon suite upstairs.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “And Tonya,” Gail said, coming closer and speaking more quietly. Van came with her but Kurt pulled politely back. Tonya raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ve decided I’m tired of sitting around. It’s time for me to do something more useful than the YFL newsletter,” Gail said, her voice dropping a half octave.

  “Useful? What sort of useful did you have in mind?”

  “Transform rights,” Gail said. “It’s a crime how Transforms are treated. Somebody needs to do something about it. I was thinking Transform rights would make a much better use for the Young Focus League than being the whining and complaining chorus.” Gail flickered her eyes at Linda Cooley, the young and often drug-addled Focus who headed the League. Tonya had caught Gail bending Linda’s ear several times already this evening. Tonya suspected Gail’s leaning was the only reason Linda wasn’t completely wasted and making a scene. “I also know a bunch of people that would help, from college, from the anti-war movement, and I think we can make some noise on the subject.”

  Tonya nodded thoughtfully, flickering her eyes at Van to make sure this wasn’t wedding-induced babble of Gail’s. It wasn’t.

  Transform rights would be an excellent place for this young Focus, and the currently useless Young Focus League was well within Gail’s abilities to steer, given the job she already did with Linda Cooley.

  “I can help you with this, if you’re willing to lend me a hand with one of my projects,” Tonya said. To Gail’s sudden frown at the obvious Focus bargaining, Tonya said “I’m half surprised you haven’t suggested this yourself, given your success locally.”

  Gail blinked in confusion, her mind exhausted by the events of the day. Van gently put his right hand on her left arm. “Mentoring and household model tuning,” he said.

  “Oh, right,” Gail said. They had obviously talked about this beforehand. Tonya nodded, and made a mental note to tell Gail, later, to keep the politically tricky ‘household model tuning’ aspects of the mentoring job quiet. “What’s involved in this? If you can tell me.”

  “I’d start you off slowly, but I do need someone local I can trust to help with the mentoring,” Tonya said.

  “I’ll do it,” Gail said, relaxing into Van’s arms. “So, about Transform rights?”

  “Let me give you some names,” Tonya said, smiling inside at Gail’s inexpert but forceful bargaining style. “The Council sponsors Transform rights in a pretty big way. There’s some Focuses you’ll want to talk to, starting with Cathy Elspeth, one of the at-large reps who sits on the Council.”

  Tonya continued to circulate. Every Focus there had something to say to her. They couldn’t pass up the chance. She was too politically important.

  “Danny, let’s dance,” Tonya said. She enjoyed politics, but she did need a break.

  “Ma’am,” he said, startled.

  “Just one song’s worth of break, that’s all. Let’s dance.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and smiled.

  They danced.

  Then the lights went out and the glass shattered in the plate glass windows overlooking the parking lot. In the distance, Tonya heard screams, gunfire, and a helicopter coming in low. Danny grabbed her and forced her head down to make her less of a target. He hustled her off the dance floor, back to Pete and Delia. Hancock arrived when Tonya did, hopefully to help defend her.

  Chapter 11

  “The only real failure in life is not to be true to the best one knows.”

  – The Buddha

  Gilgamesh

  Gilgamesh had no interest in dancing, and was for once glad to be a bodyguard. As luck would have it, he was watching Sinclair when, for no discernible reason, Focus Keistermann’s largest bodyguard picked up Sinclair, Zero and the Focus and sprinted back toward the far wall, opposite the bank of glass windows. Errr. Focus Keistermann’s large bodyguard was a Major Transform, either an Arm or a Beast Man. Talented, too, because the unknown and the two Crows still masked themselves, hiding in Focus Keistermann’s “I’m the biggest toughest Focus on the planet” glow.

  With one hand, Gilgamesh batted the back of Carol’s head, one of the physical signals they had worked out ahead of time. Incoming. His other hand reached for his rotten eggs, and he spread his metasense over the crowd and out into the night as he edged away from Tiamat. She sped off, leaving a flummoxed Zielinski stuck guarding nothing. The Good Doctor tried to follow Tiamat, but got tangled up with the entirety of Focus Hargrove’s household.

  Just as Focus Keistermann’s bodyguard flipped a table and dropped Sinclair, Zero and the Focus behind it, the lights went out and the windows blew with a metallic clang, followed by the sound of glass shattering on asphalt thirty feet below. Carol had arranged both events ahead of time, Tom’s demolitions crew assuring everyone they could blow the windows out without dropping anything larger than dust into the ballroom. They had argued over blowing the windows. Occum finally decided the issue, stating that it would be no problem at all for the enemy Beast Men to bash in the windows in such
a way as to turn the shards into deadly shrapnel.

  Even knowing the blast was coming didn’t keep Gilgamesh from flattening to the ground. Too much noise.

  In the distance, Gilgamesh heard a loud whap-whapping sound he couldn’t place. Something approached, coming in fast. He ignored it for now, and concentrated on his job of keeping safe and metasensing the ballroom. The rain picked up, outside, from a mist to a downpour.

  Focuses and their bodyguards leapt to flip tables. Standard defensive procedures, instructions from the flyer about death threats the wedding organizers had distributed. A few civilians ran toward the exits leading back into the hotel, the safest place for the civilians to be. For the rest of them, though, fleeing was not an option, but an invitation for Rogue Crow’s crew to pick off lone Transforms. Safety in numbers was their only choice. Gilgamesh pushed up to a crouch to avoid being stepped on and kept his metasense moving.

  Outside, a large mass of Transforms and normals sprinted across the parking lot toward the ballroom, no longer covered by Rogue Crow’s antisense defenses. To Gilgamesh’s surprise, a group of Law-controlled but non-pack Monsters and juice-addled normals led the charge. Cannon fodder, although someone on the other side had improved the juice-addling techniques; these normals looked far more functional than the ones Gilgamesh metasensed last year. They carried weapons.

  Twelve Hunter packs approached, slowly, at a walk, well behind the charge. The packs contained the normal motley crew of barely-Monster to full-Monster pack women Transforms, berserker pack male Transforms and Hunters. No Law-enslaved Crows or Focuses, though.

  With the crack! of the first gunfire from the Focus bodyguards, Gilgamesh lost himself in momentary panic. He stopped his flight after a half dozen steps and looked around until he spotted some place of relative safety. He ran over to it and ducked down behind a table held by three lone bodyguards without their Focus. Hargrove? Yes, only Hargrove’s people were this careless. This would be a good place to cower, as Hargrove’s bodyguards probably wouldn’t notice he wasn’t one of theirs. He could also use this position to warn anyone if Hargrove and her crew turned traitor.