Cults of the Dragon Gods

by Brian McGoldrick

  For a few moments, I do nothing but perceive my Trinity in shock. I was using it as I would Ki, but its circulation is not confined to my Body. If feels like, that strand of Trinity exists in my Body, Mind, and Soul at the same instant. When I used my Power before, even when it was braided, I could circulate it through my Body, Mind, and Soul sequentially, but even though the length of the braid could be spread though all three, each bit of it was in only one part of me at a time. Now, it is moving though the exact same flow pattern in all three at the same time.

  I can see and feel is happening, but I do not understand why it is happening. Every time I make a breakthrough or learn something new, it just seems to shed light on more things that I do not know. Even Life said She was not omniscient, so that means she is still learning, right? Will there ever be end to the quest for Power and knowledge?

  To cast pattern sight on my left eye, I only have to bring the pattern to mind and focus on my eye. The casting is barely of what it was before evolving into a Triune. I do know the reason, but from my subjective perspective, I think that my speed of thought and detail of visualization have improved. That might improve the speed of casting for spells that do not require and external spell weave.

  I can see the changes and myself and at the moment, speculating on the whys is pointless. I focus my attention on Elan's focusing formation, that was my purpose in using Making to cast pattern sight in the first place.

  The focusing formation is not condensing the ambient Mana as I expected it to, but it is condensing something. There is an ephemeral something being gathered into a glowing dark blue mist over the bowl that is only visible with pattern sight. Is it the essence of the water?

  The expression on Angelique's face draws my attention to her. She is intently watching Elan's every move and decided if she is surprised or enlightened. Unlike myself, Angelique is a pure Caster, and she seems to have a solid understanding of how to use to Power to obtain the results she want with spells, but whatever Elan is doing seems to something Angelique has never considered before.

  Angelique, do you understand what Elan is doing?

  As she looks at me, Angelique has a radiant grin on her face. Yes, Master. She is gathering the essence of light from the water. Her scrying spell uses the water is a lens to see through, but it is intended to look out from the water. The deeper you go the darker the water gets, and she is gathering the light from a very large area to create an image of the sub.

  Isn't a focusing formation used to condense Power?

  Angelique nods. That's one use for a focusing formation, but they can be used to focus almost anything. If I wanted to, I know a way to use a focusing formation to condense the nitrogen in the air to the exclusion of other gases.

  Interesting.

  Angelique beams at me.

  It takes several minutes for Elan to complete her spell and display an image of the sub. The image that forms over the bowl is nine or ten feet long and three dimensional.

  Dacbold closely approaches the image of the sub and intently stares at it for a minute or so. He gives the impression of a geek absorbed in his favorite hobby.

  "Do you think those hatches on the fore and aft decks are missile tubes?"

  Dacbold grins. "There's no doubt about it. Those the hatch doors for missile tubes. This thing is huge for a sub. Look at the conning tower. See the size of this personnel hatch in relation to the conning tower. This monster has to be more than thirteen hundred feet long with both a beam and height of almost two hundred feet. The shape of the hull looks like it was based off the Typhoon class from the twentieth century. I can't believe the fucking Chinese have six of these monsters."

  "We don't that the other six are the same as this one. There are no visuals in the US tracking data, only sonar returns and a suspected nation of origin."

  Dacbold frowns. "Maybe, but my gut tells me they're all the same class of vessel."

  I shrug but do not bother arguing. This techno-geek side of Dacbold is something I never suspected existed.

  After wiping the frown off his face, Dacbold points at barrel like piece behind the conning tower. "And look at this. It even has a dry deck shelter."

  "What's a dry deck shelter?"

  Dacbold gives me an are you really this ignorant or are you just fucking with me look. "Divers use it to enter and exit the sub while it submerged."

  I stare at the dry deck shelter. "Can one of those be open from the outside or do they have to let you in?"

  Dacbold scratches his chin for a moment. "I'm sure there a locks on it, but I'm a Smith. I can think of a few ways that I could probably get around them."

  "Elan, do you have any spells that would allow us to operate underwater?"

  Elan looks at Angelique. "You'd be better off asking this one. She has a stronger affinity for the Four Prime Elements than I do."

  Angelique takes on a timid expression. "My best underwater action spell is only good to about five thousand feet."

  Dacbold laughs. "The best subs in the world can even reach half that depth."

  Perking up, Angelique, maybe consciously or maybe unconsciously, thrusts out her chest and grins at me. The girl knows I like her tits. "I can get you to the sub, Master!"

  Narrowing his eyes, Dacbold looks at me quizzically. "Why do you want to get on that sub?"

  My smile is purely malicious. "I think there might be nukes there."

  Dacbold looks at the image of the sub with a raised eyebrow. "Considering the size of the sub and those hatches, those tubes should be meant for launching midrange cruise missiles. With the way they shielded that thing against Delphi, nukes are a real possibility. What's your plan?"

  "You get us in. We kill anyone that doesn't surrender. We take over the computers."

  Dacbold laughs. "Have you ever made a plan that doesn't involve killing people?"

  I think for a moment. "On Earth, when I would people outside the social camera coverage, I was planning to beat the fuck out of them so that I wouldn't lose it and kill someone at random."

  Dacbold shrugs and tilts his head a little to the side. "Makes sense."

  I keep a bland expression on my face. "Right before we assault Santa Rosa Island, we launch the nukes to stir up some chaos. Since there are people I wanted to kill here, we make Fresno a primary target. If we're lucky, we won't even have to bother with South Dakota, but I don't believe in luck. So after we're done at Santa Rosa, we go to South Dakota again and start nuclear war. Everyone I didn't kill growing up dies, and I get to feel good about myself."

  "I've always thought Murphy had a pussy and was a real bitch."

  With my what the fuck face on, I stare at Dacbold. "Who the fuck is Murphy?"

  "Modern education is a fucking joke." Dacbold turns around and walks away.

  *

  Standing at the gunwale, I stare at the dark blue water of the ocean below. According to the information ferreted out by Delphi, the Chinese submarine should be just underneath us, but I do not even see its shadow.

  Standing near me, Dacbold and Valcrit, like myself, are wearing nothing but breechclouts. They both have a number of scars to give testament to their lives on the battlefield, but their scars are nothing when compared with the burn scars that cover half my body.

  I look at Elan. She is again sitting in front of the focusing pattern and the scrying bow. Above the holograph of the submarine is still being displayed.

  Even though she is not looking in my direction, Elan is aware of my eyes on her. Meeting my gaze, she smiles and nods. "The submarine is down there. This image is current."

  The submarine has eight torpedo tubes for and aft , and as I watch, their outer doors open. Sixteen objects exit the torpedo tubes.

  *It looks like they know we are here, Master.* Angelique's voice is surprisingly calm, but when I look at her, she smiles nervously.

  Those aren't torpedoes. Dacbold's words are delivered in a flat emotionless tone.

  I see that. They look basically humanoid
.

  While the objects resemble plate armor, their forms are too long and thin to be humans, and there is no sense of emotion that I can detect. They are most likely some kind of an automaton, but I cannot yet tell if they are based on Earth science or Taereun artifice. Like the submarine, these automatons are flat black in color. The constructs have legs and feet that should allow them stand and walk upright outside the water, but they were not using their legs to propel themselves in the water. I cannot see any physical method of propulsion, and while there is a field of Mana is surrounding each one, that does not seem to how they were moving through the water either.

  A caterpillar drive? Dacbold's interrogatory comment is softly voiced in the raid channel.

  The term sounds vaguely familiar, but I cannot remember why. What's that?

  Still keeping the automatons in his line of sight, Dacbold turns toward me. It's a slang term for a magnetohydrodynamic drive. It uses magnetic and electric fields to propel a vessel through the water, but I never heard of one that could move anywhere near the speed of those drones.

  I remember reading about them. I thought that research had been abandoned.

  Dacbold smiles grimly. We gave up on it here on Earth, but who's to say that those are built with Earth technology?

  As they gather above the submarine, the automatons slow their speed to remain in a group near the conning tower. From each of their forearms, and a two foot long blade unfolds locks into place.

  About forty-five seconds after the first group, another group of sixteen automatons exit and gather together above the submarine.

  "Captain, man the Mana-cannons and have the crew prepare to repel boarders!"

  "Aye, Master."

  "Angelique, prepare wards for the quarterdeck!"

  "Yes, Master!"

  Duncrik turns away from the holograph of the submarine and moves to the rail of the quarter deck. "Canon crews to your stations! Open the canon ports and prepare for action! First, get the marines into their squads and prepare to repel the enemy war machines!"

  "Aye, Captain!" The acknowledgment of their order is repeated by over dozens of throats.

  I start strapping on my armor, and the other three, who were stripped down for a dive, follow suit.

  Duncrik is confused by why you are having the ship prepared for combat. He does not think that underwater automatons are a threat. Valcrit uses a private whisper channel.

  I refrain from showing a grim smile. He may be a dickhead, but at least, he can learn from his mistakes.

  Yes, Master.

  As the fourth group of automatons gathers with group hovering over the submarine, the cannon ports ratchet open, and the muzzles of twenty-six Mana-cannons stick out from the sides of the Night Raven.

  I put on my endless quiver and string Stone Feather Death.

  When eighty-eight of the automatons are gathered, they streak toward the surface and disappear from the hologram.

  "Get ready! They're coming!" With Trinity enhancing my voice, my words boom across the decks of the Night Raven.

  The ships marines are divided into six squads. Kanchek and Valcrit are commanding two, and the Night Raven's officers are commanding four. Other than Kanchek and Valcrit, none of the other Blood Rose gladiators and guards have experience with airship combat.

  Far below, the automatons break the surface of the water and take to the air.

  To my left, Duncrik stares at the rises automatons with a look of disbelief. "So, they can fly as well as swim."

  "Cannoneers, shoot them down!" Again, Trinity causes my voice to boom like thunder.

  The thunderous reverberations of the Night Raven's Mana-cannons fills the air. She has a mix of fire, lightning, and force Mana-cannons, and they are arranged in staggered upper and lower banks of six Mana-cannons each on either side of the ship. With an extra force Mana-cannon mounted at both the bow and stern.

  Mana-cannons are designed to target large objects like airships and surface structures. A war chariot and its team would be considered a small target. In battle against individual troops, they are used for suppressive fire on an area to prevent or repel an assault.

  Swerving and looping wildly as they rise into the sky, the automatons are ridiculously difficult targets for the Mana-cannons, but their Mana-cannons' fields of fire limit the airspace the automatons can maneuver in. Only a couple of the automatons are hit, more by accident than quality of the cannoneer's aim, but one hit form a Mana-cannon is all it takes to destroy an automaton.

  Among the marines are the former gladiators who acquired assault weapons on Earth, and as the automatons come into range, they open fire. The spray of bullets appear as discolored streams in the air that intersect with some of the automatons. Despite the automatons attempts to dodge the gunfire, the former gladiators have fast enough reactions to keep up with their movement, but if it was not for the Mana-cannons limiting the automatons' range of movement, the gladiators would probably not be able to do more than hit them occasionally.

  The bullets are bouncing off the automatons armor, but they are still going to great lengths to avoid them. There must be enough weight and force in the steel covered lead to break through the automatons' armor with enough hits to a single location.

  As I speed up my perception and metabolism, I split my awareness. So that I can process any shouts or conversations around me, I keep a small part of my brain, the part of controlling my ears and mouth, operating at around only twice the regular human operational speed. Now, I can clearly see the details of the automatons' armor, and the individual bullets are no longer blurred in my vision.

  "The bullets from those assault weapons are chipping and cracking the automatons' armor, but they are not penetrating. If they want to do real damage they will need to focus around thirty to forty bullets in an area about six inches by six inches."

  Dacbold gives me a disgusted look, but I do not what would cause that reaction. "The SCAR-Hs are battle rifles firing 7.62mm rounds. Those 7.62 rounds aren't heavy enough to take out those automatons. Their armor is probably on par with an APC. All the SCARs are is a temporary deterrent. If we had some .50s, they would wreck those tin cans."

  Five of the automatons dive down at the Night Raven from above, and its head moves so that a barred grill where a mouth would be on a human faces this airship. As they near the rigging, blasts of compressed air bombard the deck, and the automatons break away from the airship. A number of the crew and gladiators are staggered by the attacks, but no one is killed or debilitated.

  The gladiators with the SCAR-Hs, as Dacbold like to call them, start focusing on the dive-bombers. While the automatons are in the middle of their attack runs, the only maneuvering they do is jigging from side to side. After the first few attack runs, the gladiators start taking down the automatons.

  Elan and Angelique put up wards specifically to defend the ship against force, and they seem to dissipate that compressed air turning it into nothing more than a bit more wind.

  After she is done with her casting, Angelique glares at the two cowards that were her only friends for years. The both of them are huddled in the lee of the wheelhouse with their arms wrapped around each other.

  "Julious. Clavis. What are you doing? Why are you cowering like faggot bitches? Do you want Master to throw you over the side like useless homosexuals? Help Mistress and I protect the ship! Put up force wards to defend as many of the crew as you can!"

  The two cowards pasty white faces turn so pale that it looks like all the blood has been drained from their bodies. After looking at each other like they are going to share a long deep kiss, a little bitches rise shakily to their feet and begin drawing spell patterns.

  For a moment, Angelique watches them with a mixture of pity and discussed before returning her attention to her own spells, but her emotional state feels off. She is trying too hard to be a cold and brutal toward the two faggots, but her heart is not really in it.

  As the automatons circle around the Night Raven
and make dive-bombing runs, I watch their movements. There are a bit over a hundred movement patterns that they are using to avoid our fire, and each time a pattern finishes, there is a limited selection of patterns that follows it. The new maneuver sets look to be based on their current momentum and direction of travel.

  With the wards put up by the Casters in my raid force, the automatons are not really a danger with the way they are operating.

  "If we were in the water, those attacks would probably be lethal." Dacbold watches the automatons with a speculative look.

  Knocking an arrow to Stone Feather Death, I wait for one of the circling automatons to enter the pattern I want. I release my arrow just before the automaton finishes its pattern. There is a pause of a fraction of a second at the end of each maneuver before an automaton enters the next one where the automatons are vulnerable to being sniped.

  CRACK! BOOM!

  The volume of the sonic boom and the explosive impact of the arrow surprise me a bit. Most of the automaton's torso turns into an expanding cloud of shrapnel. Stone Feather Death's draw weight has again increased to match my increased strength.

  CRACK! BOOM! CRACK! BOOM!

  I take out two more of the automatons. Their movement patterns are too mechanical. As long as nothing changes, I can hit them at will.

  Beside me, Dacbold takes out a huge crossbow. Looking at the structure of its limbs and the string made from braided steel wire, the thing probably has a draw weight in excess of 2000 lbs., but with the stock braced against his hip, Dacbold Cox it without appearing to exert any strength at all.

  CRACK! BOOM!

  Raising the crossbow to his shoulder, Dacbold casually shoots one of the automatons in the middle of its maneuvering. His bolt hits the automaton in the head, and its head explodes into twenty or so chunks of metal. As the automaton continues flying without any obvious loss and maneuverability, Dacbold frowns.