They were small as missiles went, the size of a child’s coffin, but were as lethal as the giant traveller-sized monsters. Each missile was stamped with the symbol that meant only one thing - nuclear. Anti-matter.
Every man and woman wore a special suit and their movements were slow and methodical. To them this was work and nothing else. Either they did not know better or they did not care. Perhaps they had no choice.
“Tian is not here,” Torrullin stated. “This is too frenetic.”
“Thank the gods,” Teroux whispered. “And I hope to all those gods that what we see here is not just for Beacon,” he added.
“Not even Beacon has this kind of money - not yet anyway. Seems Excelsior is stockpiling.” Torrullin said. “They do so before other nations come to enforce the ban. The cat will be out of the bag the moment Beacon announces its intentions. That down there is Excelsior’s future money. They know no other way.”
“There is enough to keep warmongers supplied for a thousand years.”
Elianas shook his head. “That will be sold within ten. They buy themselves a decade only.”
Teroux whistled. “My god.”
Torrullin said, “We must get those people out. This place needs to be permanently locked down and sealed into eternity. We cannot disarm everything and there is nowhere safe enough to store dangerous material and waste.” He glanced at Elianas. “We create a void and we close it over with rock.”
Teroux’s mouth fell open.
Elianas angled his body so that Teroux could not see his face. “Torrullin, it will take all our reserves to achieve such a feat.”
“We have done so before and for lesser reasons.”
The dark man closed his eyes. “We shall be vulnerable after. If Beacon has a sorcerer in employ, they will know it would be the perfect opportunity to strike at us.”
“We have four of our own sorcerers to keep them at bay. We have to do this.”
Elianas gazed into the space. “Yes.”
“Not yet.” Teroux stepped forward. “No one knows what we have seen, so we can delay this part of the operation. They will not run into the woods quite yet. First we need know what exactly Beacon has in armaments. We need know what we can expect from them.” He pointed down. “Have they taken delivery and how much? Or are they still waiting?”
Torrullin nodded. “Agreed.”
Elianas gave a grin. “Very practical, Teroux.”
“Bugger off. It makes sense.”
“General Rorkis would know,” Torrullin mused. “I think we need arrange a little ‘holiday’ for him in the next few minutes.”
“He could also evacuate the employees from the entire facility,” Elianas murmured. “Fine, let us find our General.”
THEY BROKE INTO HIS office by frying the electronic gear on the door. If alarms sounded, they were the silent type.
They worked quickly.
A giant photograph on the wall revealed the man’s likeness and a personal diary on his desk revealed his place of residence. A swift search of the filing cabinets behind his desk revealed Top Secret documents; Excelsior was selling at a rate and General Rorkis lined his back pocket for retirement.
There was nothing in those documents on Beacon, not even a hand-written sales slip. It could mean Beacon still awaited stock or Rorkis had been paid off to keep the documentation elsewhere. Somewhere private. If documentation even existed.
They transferred the entire contents of those cabinets to Max Dalrish, Peacekeeper of Xen III, for his perusal. Max would get quite a surprise when he next entered his office, but surprise would soon give way to hard and unstinting labour. It was guaranteed that every nation and individual that was a recipient of Excelsior’s weaponry would be taken to task.
Max had a horror of technological weapons.
They left the General’s office after ten minutes. No guards waited with guns cocked outside. Security was lax at night, or these folk never entertained the thought of a break-in of this nature. Warmongers generally wore blinkers.
A search of the other offices revealed a few not so secret sales and these too were sent to Xen’s Peacekeeper.
“Tristan must have pulled out by now,” Elianas murmured as they walked back up the spiral corridor.
“Teroux, you join them and tell them to meet us in the warehouse we picked earlier. We will retrieve the General from sleep and bring him there.”
Teroux was not happy, but did not argue.
They stood before the doors that led into the sterile room filled with monitors. If the guards of earlier had opted to remain suspicious, they waited on the other side. It could even be their every action had been viewed on those monitors.
Unfortunately they could not transport direct to the ridge; the insulating material allowed hops of a number of paces at a time. They looked at each other and then took the risk.
The sterile chamber was again deserted.
“How stupid are these people?” Teroux muttered.
“Luck is on our side tonight,” Torrullin murmured. “Go, Teroux.”
The young man vanished.
Torrullin and Elianas smiled at each other in anticipation and transported out into the garden of General Rorkis’ palatial home.
The ridge
QUILLA WAS ALONE.
Teroux hunkered beside the birdman, eyes everywhere. “Tristan should be back by now.”
The birdman pointed. “They come.”
Down the slope not too far away two shadows moved stealthily, their business done. And what a business. Fires raged in one sector of the compound and guards were frantic in fighting the blaze and searching for an enemy. Dogs barked continually and the sound of gunfire went on unabated.
The two men collapsed beside them and lay there.
Teroux said, “We have to meet Torrullin and Elianas at the warehouse.”
Teighlar sat up. “What did you find?”
“I will explain there. Let’s go.”
He muttered co-ordinates for Tristan’s benefit and they left the area immediately.
Chapter 21
Be prepared, generals of every persuasion, to include neutral territory in the field of confrontation. For negotiation without fear, for gatherings under a white flag, to bring the dead and wounded, and to breathe in. Ensure all parties agree and respect it.
~ Ancient Drinic War Manual ~
Excelsior
A warehouse
IT WAS A RUN-DOWN structure on the outskirts of a factory sector that would not again see renewal, whether of industry or an urban fashion statement. Many enjoyed an industrial feel to their lodgings, but not here. Not even the desperate had moved in. Rats skittered away twittering over the intrusion and an owl hooted displeasure up in the rafters. Old oil had patterned into glue across the littered floor. It stank of rat droppings.
The silence outside was unbroken. It was unnerving.
Teroux filled them in on what they discovered and then mentioned the basic plan.
“A void?” Teighlar repeated. “Are they mad?”
Tristan ran his hand through his hair in a gesture reminiscent of Torrullin. “Voids are unstable.”
“Not when covered with rock,” Quilla murmured. “Grinwallin’s void went unharmed and quiescent for eras and only reacted when we stood at that lip. If no one can ever reach this void, it will remain in stasis into eternity.”
Teighlar leaned forward. “Have we any clue what it would take to create such a thing?” Then he straightened. “Hell, it bloody stinks in here!”
Tristan muttered and went off in search of a likely place to sit and wait. He found a fair-sized recessed square and waved the debris aside. He sat in silence with his thoughts and the others soon joined him.
They waited.
General Rorkis’ home
THE MAN WAS IN his sixties and lived in the massive house with his wife of thirty-six years. Four children had moved on into their own lives; photographs adorned the walls.
“The general
lives like a king on others’ misery,” Elianas whispered. They had by-passed security by transporting in.
“He is not alone in that,” Torrullin said.
They climbed a spiralling staircase to the next level of the house and moved quietly down the broad passage that led into the bedroom wing. The unmistakable sound of snoring could be heard. They stood at a set of carved double doors and Elianas placed his hand on a silver handle. He turned it and slipped inside with Torrullin on his heels.
Mrs Rorkis lay on her side breathing quietly, a white-haired woman who may have been pretty in her youth and probably did not know the real truth about her husband’s career. Men like the General always kept secrets.
The General himself lay on his back sawing great logs in his sleep. He was a big brawny man and no doubt tough as railway sidings, and clever as well.
Torrullin gestured, and Elianas moved to the head of the bed and prepared to put his hand over the man’s mouth. Torrullin placed his hands carefully on the man’s abdomen - the General swallowed a snore - and then he pressed down. The snoring ceased and the man’s eyes opened. He wanted to shout alarm, but the General found he was wholly incapacitated in speech and movement. Elianas grinned down and placed his hands under the man’s head. Torrullin took up the weight of the man’s legs.
A moment later General Rorkis transported through the spaces.
Mrs Rorkis entered deeper sleep; her husband’s snoring had disappeared.
Warehouse
THEY DUMPED HIM unceremoniously on the filthy floor and Torrullin released the paralysis. The man vaulted to his feet, searching for a weapon he obviously wore at his side when awake.
“What is the meaning of this?” he roared out. “Who are you? How dare you come into my home?” When he found no weapon, he straightened and drew himself up to his considerable height. “Do you know who you are dealing with?”
“Scum,” Teroux said.
“Now, Teroux, do not upset our guest,” Torrullin said.
“Who are you?” Rorkis roared again.
Elianas placed himself squarely before the man. “You are in the presence of your judges and have been found wanting.”
“What is this? Vigilante nonsense?”
Tristan swore. “Do not play games with the man. Get on with it.”
Rorkis swung his head in that direction. “Who are you?”
Elianas made an eloquent gesture and Tristan stepped forward. “I am Tristan of the Kaval; this is Quilla, also Kaval, and this is Teroux of Sanctuary. Over there you have Emperor Teighlar of Grinwallin and the man before you is Elianas. His true title I dare not mention here, for it will bring your world to the brink of extinction.”
Rorkis had steadily paled as Tristan spoke; he knew the names.
“And to your side, General, stands Torrullin.”
Rorkis jerked that way. “Elixir?”
Torrullin inclined his head.
The General deflated like an old balloon. “You are awake once more. We were not swift enough. What must I do?”
As easy as that. Mention Elixir and even the strongest man crumbled.
Torrullin said, “Evacuate the facility; it will soon vanish from sight permanently. And answer this question. How many nuclear weapons have you delivered to Beacon?”
Rorkis was not a coward, but he understood he would pay if he did not do as asked. “It will take days to evacuate.”
“How long?”
“Four, five maybe. And what do I tell them?”
“You operate on nuclear power, General. Tell them the reactor is faulty,” Elianas offered.
Rorkis drew a shuddering breath and nodded.
“Tristan will remain at your side until you have completed this duty,” Torrullin said. The warning was implicit; attempt anything and life will end as you know it. “Talk to me about Beacon.”
Rorkis sighed. “They placed an order for seven hundred small nukes. We have delivered two hundred, and fifty more should go out in the morning.”
Teroux swore.
“Send them,” Torrullin muttered. He glanced at Elianas. “We cannot tip them off until we have closed this place down.”
Elianas agreed.
“Quilla, will you follow those devices to their destination?” Torrullin asked.
The birdman stared at him. “You task both me and Tristan with a duty that removes us from your side.”
“And yet both duties need doing.”
Quilla tutted, but he did not argue further. “I shall follow the missiles.”
Torrullin faced Rorkis. “You now have a shadow until this is done. Call him whatever you will, but do as he says. Tristan, take him home.”
Tristan paced forward and stood before his likeness. “Do not start the feat until we are in place.”
A handclasp to the shoulder. “I shall wait, son.”
Tristan smiled. Whatever Torrullin had in his head, it had not altered their bond. “Come, General.” He took the man’s arm and they vanished.
Quilla stared a moment longer at Torrullin and then followed suit. He would be in position by morning.
In the ensuing silence, Teroux said, “That was too easy.”
“Agreed, as if it was well oiled,” Elianas muttered. “I do not like it.”
“This entire mission was too easy. No one saw us? Not even a dog was suspicious,” Teighlar supplied. “It smacks of a set-up. Torrullin, you are now the only one who can enter the Dome. Perhaps it would be wise to speak with the Kaval.”
Torrullin considered their words. They were right. It had been smoother than expected. “Lay low. I will have a word with Belun.” He transported out.
The others moved back into the recess and prepared to wait.
The Dome
BELUN HAD MOVED THE Dome to a place near enough to the Rift to enable swift getaway, while still maintaining view of Sanctuary’s system, if at a greater distance. In his experience even sorcerers were wary of the rent between two universes. The Dome was safe.
Most of the Kaval were grounded on Sanctuary, but Fuma and Jonas were with him, logging in reports. Jonas, in fact, had recently returned and sat with his head in hands as he attempted to put his thoughts in order. Belun watched him; understandably Jonas had concerns over his brother on Lintusillem. He had not found Minos at his home.
When the Dragon ogive chimed they thought it was Tristan entering and did not react, until they heard his unmistakable tread.
Three heads rose.
Belun traversed the space. “Torrullin!”
Torrullin smiled. “Belun, the time apart has not improved your ugly face, I see.”
The Centuar laughed. “Hell, man, it’s good to see you.”
Torrullin clasped his shoulder. “Likewise.” He smiled over at the other two. “Fuma, Jonas, still at it?”
Both got to their feet smiling idiotically.
Torrullin paced nearer to clasp arms with them. He peered into Jonas’ eyes. “Something troubles you.”
“My brother is inside the siege line on Lintusillem. They are being worked into the ground without much to eat and no hope of breaking it.”
“Beacon will have much to pay for soon,” Torrullin said. “Belun, Tristan is occupied at present. Take Jonas and four Kaval and go and break up that damnable siege.”
The Centuar crowed his delight. “Jonas, by morning your brother will be a free man!”
Jonas paced forward. “We will need …”
“Wait,” Torrullin said. “Before you put it into action, tell me why Excelsior is suddenly accommodating.”
Belun’s face creased into a frown. “What do you mean?”
“We were not seen watching them and the diversion we created now seems as staged in their reaction as it was in deployment. No one was waiting inside the facility to prevent us finding the missiles and the general in charge folded almost immediately upon confrontation. In my book, that is too simple. Too many stand to lose when we shut Excelsior down.”
“Unless
you took them by surprise.”
“I would still have expected greater resistance.”
“Damn,” Belun muttered. Then, “Tian?”
Torrullin shook his head.
Belun swung to the console. He placed one hand on the light for knowledge and simultaneously commanded the view-screens to relay data with the key words Excelsior, Nuclear and Beacon in one phrase or sentence dated back a month and into the present.
Words and images began scrolling onto the screens and both Jonas and Fuma moved in to begin deciphering.
Belun lifted his hand. “They will find anomalies if they exist. Um, my Lord,” and the Centuar paused uncertainly.
“Belun?”
“Elixir sees, hears, and all the rest of it. You don’t need the Dome to discover a set-up.”
The Centuar was an old friend and could dare to make that statement and deserved an answer also. “Elixir is frightened of his power right now.”
“Why?”
Torrullin leaned onto the console from the opposite side. “I am so angry, Belun, I want to kill someone. Gods, most of all I wish to throttle the life out of Elianas. I dare not release the holds I managed to restore when my memory returned.”
Belun leaned forward also. He knew Torrullin well. “Elianas? Why is he to bear the brunt?”
“Elianas sees too much and knows too much.”
“He is like a brother to you, Torrullin, your only constant. Why is it so bad he keeps pace with you?”
Torrullin drew breath. “We have different ideals about the line, and thus we are locked in combat. That is the simple reason, but threaded through it is what happened in Lethe, and attraction. I need to keep him close and I want him at a distance - do you see my dilemma?”
Belun pulled a face. “Hell, no.”
Torrullin laughed. “I think I need a woman, Belun.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 149
