by S. K. Benton
“Jennie, Johnson’s on you!” he screamed, as his vampire opponent attacked him yet again.
Jennie leaped back, and pointing her katana at Johnson, loudly shouted, “Undaincantatio ultravita!” which was the cantus that created a massive blast of ultraviolet light, aimed directly at Johnson’s face. Ladros shielded his eyes, even though he was not the focus of the blast, while Johnson screamed, his face smoking from the totally unexpected magical attack.
“You bitch! I’ll kill you!” he groaned, as Ladros backed off and yelled at his injured cohort.
“Ryder Johnson, you are blind! Retreat immediately to heal and I will finish these two off.”
With his eyesight almost completely eliminated, Johnson bumbled over to their fallen comrade, the vampire to whom Jennie had most effectively given a quite violent form of maxillofacial surgery, and scooped him up, tearing through the woods as he howled in pain.
Now it was Jennie and Max against Ladros, who had pulled a hood with UV-protective facial netting over his head, knowing that he could be attacked with the same cantus at any moment.
“Lycan woman, how are you able to perform magic? Are you also a mage?” demanded the Ladros, who had settled into a defensive position outside of the previous battle area.
“Naw,” she quipped, “I’m just good with gadgets, and I got some more too. You wanna see them?”
She made a silly grin at Max, and batted her long eyelashes at him, obviously enjoying the fight more than he had previously realized. In any case, Max needed to end it, and quickly, no matter how much fun they were having. If he could terminate the fight quickly, he would be able to go after Johnson, who had fled while practically crying like a little girl.
Jennie sniffed the area, just to make sure no one was hiding about, and then, satisfied that they were alone, sat down. Leaning up against a tree, she started clapping her hands enthusiastically and cheering Max on.
“Gunnarsson! The butt thing! Smack him on the butt!”
“Ladros, why do you attack us? I know Johnson is a tool, and you hate lycans, and you’re evil and smell really bad – no, wait. That’s why you attacked us. You want to end the lycan monopoly on mouthwash and deodorant. Ok, ready to die?”
Max looked at Jennie, who was giggling and flush in the face from all the excitement, giving her a wide grin. Then, he instantly leaped four meters into the air, but to Ladros’ - and Jennie’s mutual surprise, he remained airborne. He had called a levitation cantus without verbalizing it, and just stood up there as Ladros wildly and haphazardly swung his blade at him.
“Come down here and fight, you coward! My father ordered us to kill you, and that is what I intend to do. And once I finish with you, I will strip the flesh from your bitch while she still breathes!”
That was enough for Max, as he had little respect, if any at all, for men who said discourteous things about lovely women. He floated back and downwards, staying out of the reach of Ladros’ flailing sword, and as soon as his feet touched the ground he flashed forward, his katana a blur, as he hit nearly every point of lethality on the unfortunately clueless vampire’s body.
Finished, with Ladros standing frozen in place, and having suffered far too much damage to his constantly-rotting and self-repairing system for the salubots to have any beneficial effect, Max turned to Jennie and said, “My dear…. head’s up!”
Max spun around 360 degrees with his sword out, and, dropping to a kneeling position while facing towards Jennie with his arms out wide and head bowed down, Max posed dramatically, as Ladros’ detruncated head fell to the ground with a soft thud.
They both sat there for a minute – Max with his head bowed, and Jennie sitting cutely up against the tree. Then, out of the blue, they looked at each other and started cheering as if they were watching sports team.
“Woohooo! Yeah!” yelled the clapping Jennie, as Max did a silly little celebratory dance.
“Let’s do that again!” Jennie shouted, but both then looked around, and already knowing there were no more opponents, started laughing furiously, with Jennie running up to Max and mock-fighting with him, slapping him in the chest. Max made little effort to avoid her hits (rather enjoying the attention), and playfully grabbed her, the end result being the two of them rolling on the ground.
Coming to a stop at the bottom of a small embankment, with Jennie on top, she looked at him and smiled softly, while he grinned.
“Jennie, that was an awesome cantus. You toasted Johnson’s face pretty good.”
“Yeah, who would’ve thought, ultravita, or ultra life, was the word for UV rays?”
“Well,” said Max, “if you think about it, UV rays provide life, but vamps are basically denied by life, so it’s the antithesis to everything they are.”
Jennie displayed a kind, affectionate smile while still laying upon Max’s chest, hers pressing into his. She could easily feel his racing heartbeat, even as he struggled to control his systems.
“You know Gunnarsson, when we first met, well, I wanted to kill you. Now, not so much.”
She looked at him with her overly large brown eyes penetrating into his soul. He actually had her touching him, lying up against him; something he would have never imagined when they first met (and she tried to blow his face off with her Stinger). Butterflies tickled his stomach, as he felt a surge of energy course through his spine. Then, without thinking, he slowly lifted his face up to kiss her, and it actually seemed like she was going to reciprocate the act, their noses nearly touching and their eyes closed, but then her face suddenly changed to an expression of confusion and apprehension, as she rolled off of him and stood up, adjusting her armor.
Nervously fidgeting with her hair she blurted out, “Oh, my sword,” and walked over to pick it up where it lay by the tree.
“Jennie, are you ok?”
“Oh yeah, why wouldn’t I be? We should get back, really. It’s late.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, as he turned to leave, but then suddenly stopped, looking at the now completely dead, headless body. Giving Jennie a mischievous grin, Max ran over to a clearing and found an adequately fat and straight tree branch, about two meters in length. Quickly trimming it with his katana, and sharpening both ends, he strolled over to Ladros’ head, picked it up and slammed it onto the branch with a sickening crunch. He then gave Jennie a matter-of-fact look, walked out to an open area, and stuck the branch into the ground.
“What’s that?” asked Jennie, with a grimace to her face.
“A trophy, of course!” exclaimed the victorious lycan.
“Um, Gunnarsson, you bring trophies home, don’t you?”
Max looked at Jennie, then at the impaled head, and then back at the beautiful dega.
“Only if they don’t smell like ass.”
“True, true. Well, let’s get going, Gunnarsson.”
He really wished she would start calling him by his given name.
Chapter 18 – Aftermath
Noting that they both still had adequate energy reserves, they decided to run back to the castle at a fairly quick gait. Jennie was concerned that Draagh would be worried about them, and she certainly didn’t want to hear that a search and rescue team had been sent out on their behalf. When she verbalized this to Max, he laughed out loud.
“Jennie, Draagh knows exactly where we are… doesn’t he, Socrates?”
She almost tripped when she noticed the mask-like apparition, effortlessly whizzing through the air, particles streaming behind it, as it perfectly matched their velocity.
“Master Max, Lord Draagh is aware of your good fortunes and victory in battle. In fact, he has already shared the good tidings with all in the castle, and it instantly turned into an excuse for nearly half the regiment to break open casks of their finest mead. There is only one concern they have at this time.”
“…and what would that be, Socrates?”
“You just succeeded in killing the only son of Vladros, the vampire king. To make it worse, you impaled
the youth’s head on a stake. Only the brashest lycan warrior ever does this, as it is meant as a challenge to fight, yet again.”
In the dark, putrid throne room of Vladros’ dank castle far to the north, the news of Max’s victory was not so well received.
“Dead? My son is dead?” Lord Vladros bellowed, tearing at the dying skin on his face. His rage-filled visage terrified all of the lower-caste soldiers and attendants in his presence, as he stormed about the expansive chamber, ranting on about how he was going to find the criminals and use them as barely-living blood bags, while his hellcats, which were a perverse, magical cross breed of the jaguar and the hyena, would tear at their flesh.
Ryder Johnson stood off to the side, and cockily stated, “Hey, I told him to watch out for that guy.”
“You mewling wimp!” roared the vampire king, while staring at the off-world vampire who seemed unaffected by the leader’s rage. “You should have assisted him! Now he is dead! My son is dead!”
Falling back onto his throne, he put his head in his hands, and if he were anything but a half-dead vampire king one would think that he was crying, but as vampires were unable to cry this was just not the case.
“He was with the female, you say?” he brusquely asked Johnson, who had cautiously moved closer to the stage upon which the throne sat.
“Yeah, a real teasing dega-bitch by the name of Jennie Escalante. Apparently she learned a few tricks too, ‘cause she was just an ordinary junior officer on our ship before we got dragged to this shit-hole.”
Vladros shot Johnson a glare of utter contempt and said, “I know what a dega is, alien troll, but take care with the words with which you use to describe my kingdom. You only continue breathing by my good graces.”
Johnson backed off; bowing slightly, and putting the manipulations his father had taught him to good use.
“My Lord, if you desire, I believe there is a way we can exact revenge for the unjust murder of your son.”
“And what would that be, puddle-slime?”
“Let’s kidnap him and torture him for a while,” Johnson suggested sneeringly.
Vladros looked like he was considering it for a moment. “Did you not say that he was performing magic? And did that young minor-mage in the normals’ village not proclaim the same thing?”
“Well, yeah, he was. So what?”
“You ignorant fool! As soon as we got him here he could simply escape, using his infernal tricks. If Draagh has been training him, then there is no doubt that he has already acquired a great deal of skill. As much as I hate mages - especially Draagh, who has been a constant thorn in my side - he is possibly the most powerful mage in existence, so all must be taken into consideration.”
Johnson looked up in the air, thinking for a moment, his now-rotting brain ticking away with ideas meant only to create pain and suffering.
“Well, then let’s get the girl. She is obviously important to him, so we’ll just grab her, and then he’ll wake up in the morning with her severed head on his windowsill.”
Vladros looked over to his left, motioning for someone to approach. The figure neared the king, but remained in the shadows while awaiting orders from its liege.
“Make plans to get the female lycan. Now.”
Johnson backed away with an evil, insidious grin upon his face. He had no intention of letting them kill Jennie so quickly. He wanted to have his way with her first - but he was two steps behind the vampire king, and didn’t even realize it.
Approaching the castle, the two young lycans virtually flew through the open gate, the guards having been made aware of their impending arrival via Socrates’ instant notifications. They went directly to the main hall, where the celebration had already begun, and the two tore into plates of food set before them; they had only consumed a scrawny rabbit each. They were quite pleased with the celebration, but Jennie showed a bit of hesitation around her compatriot, due to Max’s attempted kiss after defeating the vampire son of Vladros. Still, even though she wasn’t sitting as close to him as she had been recently, he enjoyed being in her presence, as well as that of all of Krynos’ forces. The young man had shown true mettle in the fight, and had emerged victorious against a young, but powerful enemy, as Ladros was of the highest vampire caste and bloodline, making him much more powerful than most other vampires.
Revelers slapped Max on the back, and used the young man’s good fortunes to try and cop a feel on Jennie, which she lithely avoided at every attempt. As they opened yet another cask of mead, the crowd again demanded that Max recount the tale of how he called a levitation cantus without uttering a word, and then hit every known lethal point on the vampire, before touching the ground and decapitating the wretched creature in most spectacular fashion. Max tried to brush this all off, instead telling them how Jennie permanently disfigured a vampire goon’s face with her gauntlet, causing the entire hall to roar with laughter. He even goaded Jennie to get up on their table and recreate a scene of the deft use of her new skills. So, there she was, a golden cup full of mead in her hand, swinging it around and splashing the liquid all over the table and various lycans’ heads, while making adorably cute expressions for each and every one of her simulated crushing blows and swings of her sword. Krynos and Draagh sat at the high table, roaring with laughter and delight, as through their antics and animated behavior the two visitors truly made it a night worth remembering.
Most everyone had gone off to sleep, while Max, Jennie, Draagh and Donus were sitting at a large table in the center of the hall, chatting about past experiences. Donus found the world of Azul to be quite interesting, especially after they had explained the concept of technology and space travel to him. Draagh told them stories about strange societies long extinct, and of a sapient species that wrote the most amazing five-dimensional poetry. Jennie told tales of her youth, but her childhood was not exciting at all, so the stories fell rather flat. The best stories of all came from Max, who told everyone how he had invented the hook drive, and then how he had taken it for his own use, as corrupt politicians had prohibited its further implementation.
Once he had completely detailed his story, Jennie felt more compassion for the man; she had previously believed him to be a thief and a traitor, but finding now that he was a man trying to save his world, with no ill will towards anyone. As Draagh had told her before, there was certainly more to him than one could see at first glance.
Max went to leave the great hall, and bid everyone a good night. Jennie stood up with him, preferring to be escorted to her room, as they housed next to each other, and also desired to avoid any lycan soldiers who might be lurking around the dark hallways of the castle.
Walking up to the stairs to their level, Jennie asked him, “Gunnarsson, when first we met, why didn’t you tell me your version of the whole story – you know, about the hook drive and the Artusians – errr - the Vrol?”
Max gave her an odd gaze, and then stopped at his door. “Well Jennie, to start off, you unloaded a few hundred rounds into Draagh’s chest and then tried to shoot me in the face. I was in what you could call an extremely hostile situation. Besides that, I left Azul for Earth because I didn’t believe that the Security Council was acting in the best interest of our world, and the military was taking orders from those ass-clowns. Plus, I am more than certain that Draagh had something to do with prompting me along. Besides that, he told you everything you needed to know while you gave me the stink-eye.”
Max then finished by calmly saying, “Good night, Jennie,” and walked into his room, shut the door without even looking back.
Jennie stood there, slack-jawed and stunned, with a door shut in her face; that had never happened to her before in her entire adult life.
The following morning, after having eaten breakfast alone, Max went to train in the great hall, but noticed that Jennie wasn’t there. Draagh entered, looking rather fit, with a broad smile on his face, greeting Max in his typical fashion.
“Good morning, my son! Are we ready to
conquer more of the mysteries of magic and the space/time continuum today?”
Max’s face lit up as he asked, “You mean slips? Yeah gramps, let's do it. I'm more than ready to take on this stuff.”
There were basically two types of slips - a slip being a type of teleportation via what resembled a fractional wormhole. The first type, the three-dimensional, or 3D slip involved moving about on the same world, utilizing precise X, Y and Z coordinates – latitude, longitude and elevation. One could certainly not slip into the inside of a mountain, so the elevation portion was critical. A complex movericantus was used for these types of slips locally, but greater distances required some advanced calculations.
The other type, the 4D slip, was required for more advanced travel, such as through space/time. It mattered not if it was on the same world, or to a different planet, or even to a parallel world (of which existed an infinite number) – the fourth-dimensional coordinate was required. Socrates was usually necessary to compile the data for these slips the first time around, as these calculations (based on what was called the Kamiliak Equation) were beyond the understanding of most mages save for the most powerful ones such as Draagh, and especially not within the realm of knowledge nor capabilities of minor-mages. Even then, Draagh utilized Socrates’ vast knowledge base and amazing computational power to hasten the process. The aged wizard had become a bit lazy throughout his eons of existence, and his beloved herb only helped to exacerbate his distaste for complex math.
High-level mages (the Prīmulī, as well as archangels and, in limited cases, their offspring) carried a physical object that was genetically encoded to their systems, via the living, non-sentient ghanlo contained within. These ghanlos had massive amounts of memory, and could save 3D and 4D slip data, enabling the mage to return to points in space/time where he had previously been without having to go through the process of recalculating coordinates. Lower-level mages had no such devices, and merely recited cantuses.
