Shadow Ops: Fortress Frontier-ARC (pdf conv.)

by Myke Cole

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Next, we need to get used to the idea of supplying ourselves via magic. We might not like it as much as cold cereal and whole-wheat toast, but it’ll do in a pinch. I want Hydromancers detailed to set up a freshwater pond in the plaza. Get it walled off and guarded twenty-four/ seven. Feed it with summoned rainfall or an underground spring. Just make sure it’s full and fresh.”

  “Respectfully, sir?” Roche said.

  “Speak freely.”

  “One pond isn’t going to cover everyone. You’re going to need at least ten.”

  “Outstanding. Make it happen. Just make sure of this: that there’s enough magically produced freshwater under guard at all times. Make damn sure that the cash and the DFAC are adequately supplied. Since you’re the idea man on this one, Roche, if you can figure out a way to get it piped or transported to where it needs to be, I’ll write you up for a commendation. Ditto if you can get it bottled and distributed.”

  Roche smiled. “I’ve got some ideas, sir.”

  “Outstanding. The bottom line is that nobody on this post should want for clean, potable water at any time. Run a river through here if you have to, just make sure it’s clean and safe. How can we handle heating it? Is that a Hydromancy or Pyromancy issue?”

  “Both, sir. But fortunately, it’s fairly easy. Same thing for climate control. We’ve got Aeromancers who can make sure nobody freezes or overheats if the AC goes out.”

  “Great. Sanitation is another issue. I’m assuming Terramancers can have the latrine pits mulch the waste we put in them?”

  Woon nodded. “I’m a Terramancer, sir. We can do that.”

  Bookbinder smiled. I already knew that, young lady. “Okay. That’s on you, then. Make it happen. No sanitation issues and no odors. Quality of life is a concern if we’re going to keep morale up. You can also handle chow. I need Terramancers detailed to gardening. I need space cleared for that immediately. Make sure it keeps everyone here in fresh fruits and vegetables.”

  Woon pursed her lips as she wrote. “Seed stock might be a problem.”

  “Requisition whatever you need from the DFAC. I assume a Terramancer can turn one rotten cucumber into a field of them?”

  Woon nodded. “Got it, sir. There are some native species I know are safe to consume, too. We’ll take care of it.”

  Bookbinder leaned back in his chair. “Okay, now here’s the part you’re not going to like. I need you to pick out a handful of promising Terramancers and order them to learn to Whisper.”

  Crucible alone showed no reaction. The supply officers sucked in their breath as one. Woon frowned. “Sir, I’m not sure . . .”

  “I wasn’t asking for your opinion, Major. I was giving you an order.”

  “Sir, respectfully, that’s an illegal order. Whispering is prohibited under the . . .”

  Okay. Time to play the part.

  Bookbinder tried to project some of Taylor’s angry authority into his own voice. He stood, putting his knuckles on the desk and raised his voice. Easy, don’t overdo it. Nobody liked Taylor very much.

  “Don’t presume to lecture me on the law, Major. I’m well familiar with what I’m asking. This is my call, and I’ll take whatever flak comes when we finally make it back to the Home Plane. For now, we’re cut off and under fire, and we need every advantage we can take to stay alive. Our troops are going to need meat, and we’re going to need animal scouts to reconnoiter enemy positions without risking valuable fuel, equipment, and personnel.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll write a damned memo saying it was my idea, and you can give it to the Office of Special Investigations when you get home. But, for now, I need you with me on this. Are we clear?”

  Woon straightened. “Crystal, sir.”

  “And you’re going to carry out this order? I can’t have you fucking around on this, Woon. I need you with me.”

  “I’m with you, sir. I’ll see to it, and I’ll make sure my people understand the gravity of the situation.”

  Bookbinder relaxed, letting some of this relief show.

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “Respectfully, sir. I don’t know that my people can figure out how to Whisper.”

  Bookbinder rolled his eyes. “That’s horseshit, Major. Plenty of Terramancers learn how to Whisper on their own. We wouldn’t have had to outlaw it if it was difficult to do.”

  Woon looked chastened, but not humiliated. “Sir.”

  “Okay. That’s a start. Any bright ideas, you run them to Crucible. We’ve got a lot of hard work ahead of us, but I have total confidence that we can sustain ourselves here indefinitely if we’re smart about conserving resources and using magic efficiently. You all have the premier role in making that happen. It’s an important job, maybe the most important job on this FOB.

  Can you handle this?”

  They smiled at him, young, eager, inspired. “No sweat, sir.”

  “All right. Get out of here and make me proud.”

  Once they were gone, Bookbinder slumped in his chair, rubbing his temples. He felt weak from the tension of having to act the boss he just couldn’t bring himself to feel like. “How’d I do, Rick?”

  “Convinced the hell out of me.” Crucible said. “They’ll follow you into hell if you ask them.”

  “I only hope that’s not what I’m asking them.”

  “Time will tell. You’re off to a good start.” Crucible looked uncomfortable.

  “What?” Bookbinder asked. “What did I fuck up?”

  “Nothing, sir. It’s just . . . I just thought of something.”

  “Well? Out with it.”

  “Our foreign partners, sir. You didn’t invite them to the address. The FOB’s a combined op.”

  Bookbinder sighed. “Don’t we have a protocol officer, or someone who handles that crap?”

  Crucible slapped his forehead. “Yes, we do. Damn it. It’s Major Constance, and she’s something of a prima donna. Damn it. I’m sorry, sir. I could have anticipated that. I should have been covering your six.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. We’ve both been under a ton of pressure since this whole thing . . . went south.”

  “Ugh. Still. Damn it.”

  “Well, shit. Who’s on the FOB?”

  Crucible looked at the ceiling as he thought. “Before we got cut off, I know we had the Swedish Trollkarl Kar, the Indian Sahir Corps, and the Russian Spetznaz Vedma. Oh, and I think there was one of those Saudi Djinn wranglers.”

  “Saudi? I thought Muslims outlawed magic.”

  “They do in public, sir. But we supposedly outlawed Probes, too, didn’t we?”

  “Fair point. Okay, can you put your nose to the ground and find out why the hell this Major Constance is asleep at the switch? Get her unfucked and fast, Rick. Things are tight right now. We can’t afford mistakes like that.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  “And once we get Constance online, maybe we can reach out to these foreign partners. Might be there’s something they can do to help?”

  Crucible, about to answer, was cut off by the light rapping of knuckles at the door. A moment later, Carmela poked her head in. “Sir, sorry to disturb you, but the Indian attaché is here to see you, he says it’s urgent.”

  Bookbinder and Crucible exchanged glances, arching their eyebrows. “That’s good timing. Send him in.”

  Carmela paused. “Would you be willing to meet him out by my desk, sir? He’s got his . . . partner with him.”

  Bookbinder nodded. The naga was enormous. It had barely fit through the door of the ready room. His office door was even smaller. He stood, brushed himself off, and motioned Crucible to go ahead of him.

  The sight of Vasuki-Kai still made him nervous. The huge creature looked impatient, its many heads darting back and forth, multiple pairs of arms crossed over its broad chest. Dhatri stood beside it, smiling and relaxed as ever. His formal uniform was replaced by creamed-spinach-looking camouflage under body ar
mor decorated with the subdued Indian flag and what Bookbinder assumed was an indicator of his rank, a black national emblem with a stripe. A carbine was slung across his chest, and a pistol nestled in a holster on his thigh.

  Once Vasuki-Kai noticed their entrance, he began to gesture angrily with several sets of hands while his heads darted toward Bookbinder, setting up a chorus of vaguely Hindi-sounding hissing.

  Dhatri placed a comforting hand on one of the creature’s elbows, and it quieted, shooting a glare his way from several sets of serpentine eyes. “His Highness wishes to express his condolences for the loss of Colonel Taylor and to congratulate you on your assumption of command. He also demands to know why he wasn’t informed of this immediately and invited to the change–of–command ceremony.”

  Crucible’s jaw tightened, and Bookbinder swallowed.

  Remember, the naga think they rule over all humans, and this particular naga is a prince among his own kind. You have to treat him like royalty. He bowed deeply from the waist, motioning Crucible to do the same.

  “Please extend my sincere apologies to His Highness. Colonel Taylor’s death was sudden, and I’m not used to the protocol required in combined operations like this one. I trust that His Highness will understand that I meant no offense.”

  Dhatri translated in real time. Vasuki-Kai’s arms crossed again, but much of the anger clearly subsided. Some of the heads drew upward into a regal pose. Others nodded.

  There was a brief silence, then the naga issued another burst of hissing, this time more moderate in tone. “His Highness wishes me to inform you that he is concerned about the increased pace of attacks on the perimeter of this installation. He also notes that you gave a speech earlier—”

  Bookbinder cut him off, patting the air with his palms. “Yes, I know. I apologize for not inviting you, it wasn’t intentional. Like I said, I’m still finding my feet here.”

  Dhatri nodded. “His Highness says he is aware that this installation is cut off from the Home Plane and without resupply. He theorizes that you cannot hold out against the heightened pace of attacks. He notes that, without resupply, you will eventually be overrun.”

  Bookbinder’s stomach fell. Don’t fall for it. Who knows what his agenda is.

  He took a deep breath, trying not to show how the naga’s words affected him. “Tell His Highness that I am in the process of implementing security and austerity measures that will ensure our ability to hold this position indefinitely. I know I speak for my government when I say that we value His Highness’s counsel and respectfully request any inputs he may have to boost our sustenance and force protection efforts.” Dear God, do all foreign exchanges sound this pompous?

  But while the corner of Crucible’s mouth rose slightly, Dhatri grunted as if he’d expected that response. He translated in real time back to Vasuki-Kai, who issued another burst of hissing.

  “His Highness says you misunderstand. The weather grows cold, ending the campaign season for the tribes. The intensity of the attacks you are experiencing now is nothing compared to what will come with the spring thaw. Any measures you implement will only buy you time. When the flowers begin to bloom in the pasturelands outside your gates, you will surely be overrun. His Highness says the Defender tribes are as numerous as plague insects. There are a hundred of them for each one of you.

  Even if they had no magic and no guns, if you are not properly resupplied, they will wash over this place like the sea.”

  Bookbinder traded looks with Crucible. “He’s got a point, sir. They are a lot more active in the spring. We never had to worry about it before because of artillery and air support, but they’re not exactly plentiful right now.”

  Bookbinder hung his head. “Well . . . shit.”

  He knew he shouldn’t let the Indian liaisons see him like this, but he couldn’t help himself. Every time he tackled one problem, a new one confronted him. He couldn’t catch a break.

  “His Highness asks what your plan to obtain relief personnel and resupply is.”

  Bookbinder sighed. “Well, I hadn’t exactly gotten to that part yet.”

  Vasuki-Kai made a chorus of choking hisses that Bookbinder was fairly certain was laughter. One of his huge hands clapped Bookbinder on the shoulder. “His Highness says that he may be able to be of some assistance.”

  “Tell His Highness that I am deeply grateful for any assistance he may be able to offer.”

  Dhatri turned to Vasuki-Kai and chattered for a long moment in Hindi punctuated by hissing. At times, their conversation grew animated. After a moment, the naga thrust a finger into the Subedar Major’s chest and hissed with some finality. Dhatri nodded, swallowed, and turned back to Bookbinder.

  “Sir, His Highness directs me to inform you that the Naga Raajya has its own Portamancer.”

  Hope flooded through Bookbinder’s chest, weakening his knees. He paused for a moment before he trusted himself to speak. “And they can help us reestablish contact with the Home Plane?”

  Dhatri and several of Vasuki-Kai’s heads nodded simultaneously.

  Bookbinder clapped his hands together and allowed himself a broad smile. “Please extend my profuse and sincere gratitude to His Highness. This is wonderful news. How do we make this happen?”

  “My government has its own FOB in the Naga Raajya, this is the naga’s own domain. The Naga Raja, their king, has permitted us to establish a base around his palace. It is some distance away.”

  Bookbinder frowned. “I thought we were the only country with a presence here . . .”

  Dhatri blushed. “Yes, well . . . Sir, it wasn’t a widely distributed piece of information. But it’s true. His Highness has ordered me to share this information with you. He will not suffer this place to be destroyed with everyone in it simply so my government can keep a secret.”

  “Okay. How do we get in touch with them?”

  Dhatri’s British-and Hindi-accented English sounded embarrassed.

  “This is problematic. There are no satellites in the Source, and we have relied on SINCGARS communications with our FOB. Unfortunately, the Source’s electromagnetic sphere is not well understood. There is frequent interference, and communications are not consistent.”

  “So, how do you keep in touch?”

  “By envoy, sir. The trip is long and dangerous for a human. But nagas can do it with some difficulty.”

  “You send . . . runners?” I almost said “slitherers.”

  Dhatri nodded, “I’m afraid so, sir. It’s not efficient. Lately, we’ve been having a devil of a time getting in touch.”

  Bookbinder turned to Crucible. “Is this that ‘Tiger Smile’ thing that Taylor was going on about?” He doubted Taylor would have wanted the Indians to know that code word, but it seemed that secrets were becoming awfully inconvenient given the current crisis.

  Crucible shrugged.

  Bookbinder turned back to Dhatri. “So, Subedar Major, what you’re telling me is that there’s a way out of this, but we’re going to have to walk there. Through hostile country.”

  “Very hostile, sir, I’m afraid.”

  “And how far is it?”

  “About twenty-one hundred kilometers, sir. Maybe a little less.” Dhatri paused. “I’m sorry, I’m know you go by miles, but I’m not sure that . . .”

  Bookbinder stopped him with a wave. Twenty-one hundred kilometers was around thirteen hundred miles. Over hostile terrain, with no roads and no ability to resupply.

  Help was out there, and so far away that it might as well be in another world.

  Chapter XVI

  Boots on the Ground

  When you look at the Etymologiae and Physiologus of Pliny the Elder and Isidore of Seville, you get a bestiary of fabulous creatures from manticores and goblins to the fish and birds we see every day. Before the Great Reawakening, these writers were dismissed as primitive fantasists. But they wrote roughly a millennium before our own time, which fits with planar orbital theory and the notion of a “Source” plane where magi
c exists as an elemental force. If that force could bleed into the Home Plane, then it stands to reason that the fauna of that place could find ways to cross over as well.

  —Avery Whiting

  Modern Arcana: Theory and Practice

  “You’re not going.” There was an edge of emotion to Crucible’s voice that weakened Bookbinder’s resolve. Crucible was competent, careful, kind. He trusted the man implicitly. Maybe he was right? No. This is your task. You have to do this.

  “I don’t recall asking you for your opinion,” Bookbinder said, trying to sound authoritative and failing utterly.

  “You can’t have it both ways, Alan,” Crucible said. “You can’t be all buddy-buddy with me one second, then try to order me around the next. You wanted a friend and confidant. Well, you’ve got one. And I say you’re not going.”

  Bookbinder rolled his eyes. “I don’t suppose we can go back to me being the stern and imposing CO for this part, can we?”

  Crucible snorted.

  “Rick, I’m serious here. I have to do this. Me.”

  “No, you don’t. You are in command here. You can send a team.”

  “To go out into that wilderness? It’s practically a suicide mission, and you know it.”

  Crucible spread his hands. “I do know it. And since when is it a good idea to send the post CO out to die?”

  Bookbinder pounded the desk. “Since that CO has been a CO for all of fifteen minutes. Hell, Rick, we both know you can run this base a hundred times better than I can. The troops know and respect you. Rank isn’t the issue. Fuck, I’ll brevet you to full bird if that makes a difference.”

  “Now is not the time to have a crisis of confidence, sir! You should have seen their faces when you gave that speech. You’ve made a good impression, and they’re coming around. Those austerity measures were smart. You trust your people, you delegate. You’re firm without being overbearing. You’re a natural.”