Winterfall

by John Conroe

  “I can’t make those weapons at all. They require machines and supplies that don’t exist here. But the predecessors to those weapons are something I might be able to make. Plus this compound, which we call black powder or gunpowder, has many, many uses. What I am doing is making enough of it to show you some of those uses, mostly as weapons.”

  Clacher thought about it, brow furrowed. “Your sister stays here.”

  “That’s fine, Milord. Jetta will begin refining one of the components while I’m gone.”

  “I will go and keep an eye on him too, Father,” Lady Iona announced.

  Mack expected Clacher to refuse her but he just grunted and then nodded his approval.

  The trip to the springs was made on horseback, but this time Mack got to sit upright. Since he had practically grown up on horseback, this was much more comfortable compared to his last ride.

  Iona rode as close to him as she could, glancing his way every few minutes. He waited for the inevitable questions, nodding to himself when the first finally came.

  “You can make a weapon from goat dung, burnt wood, and smelly hot water?” she finally asked.

  “You can make thousands of things from the materials that make up our world. You just need knowledge to break them down to their rawest form and knowledge how to put them back together,” he said.

  Kellan, who wore a frown anytime Iona paid too much attention to Mack, moved closer on Mack’s other side. It seemed clear to Mack that Kellan wanted to be Mr. Lady Iona and therefore the next lord of Forpost. While Iona, whose raw ambition shone on her face, wanted to move her family’s keep up in standing against the richer holds. Mack’s knowledge was the obvious key, although Kellan was acting like he was seeing Mack as competition.

  Mack turned to Kellan. “Do you have any siege engines? Catapults?”

  The big sergeant just looked at him blankly. Iona spoke from his other side.

  “Oh, you mean rock throwers. We have a couple of small ones, but nothing like Demyne has,” she said, looking to Kellan. “Right?”

  Kellan frowned, but it was a thinking kind of frown. He slowly nodded, holding up his hands together like he was gripping a grapefruit-sized object.

  “Oh. How far can you throw a rock that size?” Mack asked.

  “Mayhaps three hundred cubits,” the big sergeant said, looking slightly defensive. “Aim is poor at that range.”

  “That translates to about roughly six hundred feet,” Omega said, which saved Mack from asking the AI for a conversion.

  “That’s actually pretty good. Aim isn’t as important when you’re working with that minute of a bomb,” Mack said. “Horseshoes and hand grenades.”

  Both Iona and Kellan looked at him, perhaps waiting for an explanation. Mack just smiled.

  Chapter 22

  Chris

  Rome, Italy

  “Hey,” said a voice inside the small chapel of Senka’s Roman castle. My senses had just told me that room was empty as I passed it by, but the voice was instantly familiar. I stopped, backed up, and stepped inside.

  Barbiel stood looking at an ancient mural that had been there for perhaps hundreds of years. It was too faded to make out, but Senka had left all the original artwork in place when she bought the joint.

  “I remember when they painted this,” Barbiel said.

  “What’s up?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. I don’t need much sleep but what little I did had been taken by greedy babies who only slept when I couldn’t.

  “The God Hammer as a dad,” my angel case officer said, smiling. “Not something any other angel can say.”

  “Except Tanya,” I protested.

  “As a dad? Wow, you do need sleep,” he said. “Listen, I wanted to catch you.”

  “And?” I asked.

  He smiled in a pained way. He looked… frustrated.

  “Shit. I have to guess, don’t I? You can’t just tell me outright, can you?” I asked.

  His smile turned sheepish as he nodded.

  “That sun is blazing hot today, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Okay, so he wasn’t making small talk. Sun—blaze—hot. “Fire? We need to talk about fire?” I asked.

  “Now that you mention it, fire does do a good job on the infected, doesn’t it? Some fires are better than others,” he said.

  Better fire? My head started to hurt. I needed another breakfast and more coffee.

  “Let’s see. Flame throwers work but are too splashy. Omega’s drones have those particle weapons now, which seem better than the first iteration’s lasers. But the witches are the best. They burn that shit right up,” I said. “Nothing is better… well, except maybe that thing I do sometimes… oh. You want to talk about my… what? Angel fire?”

  He touched his finger to his nose.

  “What about it? I can’t even do it on command,” I said. “It just happens.”

  “Happens when?” he asked, egging me on.

  “I don’t know, Barbiel. I guess when I get really—concerned?” I guessed.

  “Concerned? For others? Which might be called protective?” he asked, clearly leading me on.

  “Okay, so you’re telling me I can burn these things if I’m what? Scared for one of my own?”

  He touched his nose again. “It’s interesting that you bring up Angel fire. Did you know that an active angel like me can only use it if I’m preauthorized by the, eh, Big Guy? But it’s unlimited when it’s cleared. Now if, say, an angel fell to Earth and gained free will, they would be able to use it on their own. But, of course, it would be limited.”

  “Limited how?” I asked.

  “In quantity. Lifetime quantity. It can be used up,” he said.

  “So I can run out? I’ve already used some up?” I asked.

  “Like over half,” he said. “You went a bit nuts with it back under Atlantic Avenue a few years back. You might want to use it sparingly.”

  “What about my sword? Will that run out too?” I asked.

  “No, never. As long as there are demons, your sword is there. But it’s only good for demons. You can’t use it against other children of God.”

  “I used it with the fire elemental so it wouldn’t burn up Vegas,” I said.

  He held one hand palm down and waggled it. “Eh, you blocked yourself from lava directed at you by an elemental that fits many of the criteria for celestial being. These others are not remotely like that and so your sword won’t activate for you.”

  “Barbiel, I’m really tired. Let’s see if I can summarize. My Angel fire is not only exhaustible, but already more than half gone and my sword won’t work.”

  “Correct, and don’t forget that you now know that your trigger for your Holy Flame is your own need to protect others,” he said, beaming. I don’t think he was happy at actual restraints and conditions, but more that he had conveyed everything he felt he needed to without getting in trouble over his Angelic rules.

  “Is there any good news in all of this?” I asked.

  He frowned, taken a little aback. “Well, you still have your aural weapons. But I’m afraid you’ll need to be like your fellows and develop whatever other tools and weapons you think will help. Your primary mission here has always been demons. This enemy is not for you alone. Use others; let others fight. This one is a battle between the natives of earth, in all their forms, and invaders who want either eradication or enslavement.”

  “Chris!” Lydia called from down the hall. I turned toward her voice, then back. He was gone. “Oh there you are,” Lydia said, poking her head into the chapel. “Communing with God?”

  “Just getting my facts straight,” I said. “What’s up?”

  She frowned at my words but delivered her message. “Your much better half wants you at the command center. Something’s up with China.”

  We both Moved, speeding to the big open room that was lately festooned with cables, monitors, computer towers, tables, chairs, and the other furnishings of the modern war room.

  Tanya gla
nced at me as we came in, but she was talking via satellite with the same group of world leaders as before, General Liu being the one on the central monitor. Nika, Senka, Chet Aikens, Arkady, Deckert, and various young witches stood or sat in the background.

  My personal link to her told me Tanya was stewing about something.

  “What’s your best estimate, General?” she asked, a twitch of her fingers beckoning me to her side.

  “Our most recent census figures, which are admittedly out of date, place the first village’s population at a little over one thousand, fifty people. Add to that the missing squad of nine soldiers. The second village, in the north, was smaller, somewhere in the vicinity of nine hundred inhabitants, plus a second mechanized squad,” Liu said.

  Tanya turned to me. “They’ve been sending military units to check some of the sites Omega listed. In two of those areas, the squads reported infected before command lost contact with them. We’re presuming total infection. One village is in the southeast and the other in the northern part of the country.”

  “Any satellite coverage?” I asked.

  “I have re-tasked a Jilin Low Earth Orbit imaging satellite which is due to fly over the southern village in eight minutes and seventeen seconds,” Omega said.

  Liu looked pained. “It takes our space assets at will,” he said.

  “It is much more efficient for me to control the satellites than you, General,” Omega replied.

  “In the meantime, the general sent Air Force fighters over both villages to take some recon photos,” my vampire said in her let’s-get-back-on-track voice.

  On cue, a screen opened showing side-by-side, high-altitude videos of two very small, very remote clusters of buildings. There wasn’t any real activity to see, although a few large vehicles were visible. “Are those military trucks?” I asked.

  “Yes. They are not parked according to doctrine,” Liu said.

  “What’s our plan?” I asked.

  Silence greeted my question, the tight expressions on several faces, including Tanya’s, indicating some tension.

  “We will handle it,” General Liu said. He didn’t elaborate.

  “The Chinese government has decided to bomb both villages before sending in special forces for cleanup,” Omega said.

  “Not going to search for survivors?” I asked. “How about witch support to make sure you track down all infectious entities?”

  “As you all pointed out, we have our own resources. This is an internal matter,” Liu said.

  “Let’s see—over one billion Chinese citizens vulnerable for infection. Sounds like something the whole world has an interest in,” I said.

  “We will handle it ourselves, Mr. Gordon. Your input is nether required nor wanted,” Liu said stiffly.

  “I will be monitoring, Chris. Should they fail due to a stubborn and ill-advised nationalistic pride, I will intercede,” Omega said.

  “And do what?” the Russian president asked.

  “Whatever is necessary, Mr. President, to sterilize the biological hazards,” Omega said.

  No one said a word, but the exchanged glances were telling. Our own group shot looks around Senka’s command room.

  “That sounds ominous,” I said.

  “Ominous is allowing a biological weapon of this caliber to gain a foothold on this planet and not using every available resource to track, neutralize, and sterilize it. My drones on the TRAPPIST planet have resumed searching after a requisite recharge period. The planet is almost devoid of animal life and very low in plant life. It is likely that most of that world’s biological matter has been appropriated for either conversion to weaponized forms or as fuel for said weapons. I will not allow that to happen here,” Omega said with a clear note of finality.

  “Are you speaking of the nuclear weapons you control?” President Polner asked from the White House feed.

  “Would that not be an option for any of you to consider under these circumstances?” Omega said. “Although I will use all of my resources to combat this danger. Your stockpiles of weapons are just one resource.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Secretary General Bakshi asked.

  “It likely means that Omega solves problems by looking at all answers at the same time. We tend to focus on specific pieces or parts of the puzzle, but he doesn’t. Right now, we’re all focused on nukes. He might decide crashing a small asteroid into the region is better, or redirecting your own troops in more efficient patterns are better solutions,” I said.

  “Always with the asteroids,” Tanya muttered to my left. “Chris is right. We need to listen to Omega’s solutions.”

  “Or is it the computer’s chance to wipe us all out?’ Liu said.

  “It already would have happened,” I said.

  “Chris is correct. My decision-making process is very, very fast and not burdened by emotional constraints. There is an argument that removing the human species would remove the enemy’s ability to make you into weapons. I rejected that one immediately. You are part of this world and while I might choose to intervene when you all are bent on self-destruction, I do not see any value in removing you myself.”

  “Plus your dad would be mad,” I said, mouth running out of control.

  “That is very likely, Chris.”

  “How is your father, Omega?” Tanya asked.

  “Is this necessary,” General Liu asked. “We are discussing bigger things.”

  “My father is almost ready, in both my opinion and his, to attempt a gate to the missing members of his party. Once they are safe, he intends to return the entire group back to Earth. The addition of his abilities, which have changed during his sojourn, have a definite positive effect on our probability of success in this struggle.”

  “Keep us informed, would you?” I asked.

  “Of course. Now, General, I have some suggestions that will increase the likelihood of your military actions achieving complete annihilation of the infection. Will you listen?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Liu asked, his aloof reserve broken.

  “No!” chorused from all our throats.

  Chapter 23

  Forpost, Fairie

  The next morning found them again just outside the gate, although this time Mack was standing alone in a broad open space—just him, a scarecrow made of two sticks, a rotten piece of old cloth, and a broken squash-like vegetable stuck on top of the upright stick. And a small, tightly bound cylinder—with a fuse.

  The bundle was lashed to the squash or gourd or whatever it was, with some twine—he wanted the demonstration to be dramatic. Carefully, he used a disposable lighter from his kit to light the twine fuse that he had soaked in potassium nitrate and dried overnight.

  Then he turned and moved with haste, getting back forty feet till he was just in front of the others. Turning, he was in time to see the glow of the fuse disappear into the body of the bomb.

  The resulting boom was satisfying, and a pelting rain of squash parts sprayed down among his group of watchers.