by Myke Cole
‘One’s in Tribeca. The other in Chinatown. They’re just a few square blocks each, and separated by a couple of blocks that are completely overrun with . . . these snake things with two heads. Whatever they are, they are steering clear of both those patches. There are corpses around the edges. Mostly goblins, but others, too. Some of that . . . You know, the way stuff is frozen to hell and filthy when a mountain god bleeds on it? We saw some of that, too.’
Harlequin swallowed. ‘Are there SOC units operating anywhere out there? I don’t have any report of . . .’
‘Neither do we, sir. We tried every frequency on the radio. No comms. If the SOC is working there, they’re not answering.’
‘Selfers,’ Harlequin said. He struggled not to let the shock show. He’d been running to keep up since he’d arrived in New York, knocked left and right by the speed with which the battle evolved. And here a pack of Selfers had managed to do at least as well as a professional army. They have magic. You don’t. Not enough, anyway.
‘That’s our guess, too, sir,’ Sharp agreed. ‘We figured maybe a gang. We were hoping you could check it out with the NYPD. They might have some answers.’
Harlequin put his head in his hands. ‘Damn it. I’ve been trying to get an NYPD LNO in here. It’s a little hard to get ahold of them just now.’
Sharp nodded silently, but the message in his hard eyes was clear. Stop whining and figure out a way to get it done.
‘All right, thanks, guys. Why don’t you grab some water and some rack time and . . .’
Sharp and Archer were already standing, tightening the straps on their carbine slings, gathering up their helmets and packs. ‘If it’s all right with you, sir, we’re going to get back out there. Got a couple more items on the to-do list.’
He tapped a thumb drive on the table. ‘Saved all our recon notes here. It’s all in a map overlay you can load into your GIS software. Has the MGRS coordinates of the bad guys in all the locations we talked about.’
Harlequin blinked. ‘That’s outstanding.’
Sharp gave the faintest trace of a smile. ‘Archer’s something of a comms geek, sir. Computer stuff, too.’
‘Just my luck.’
‘Yeah, well. It hasn’t improved his aim.’
Archer shook his head, headed for the door with a final nod to Harlequin. ‘Tell General Bookbinder that we asked after him, sir. If you wouldn’t mind.’
‘Of course.’
Sharp nodded. ‘A little tough to get in touch with us in the field now, sir. Comms are weird in spots. We’ll be checking in every so often though. We’ve got a ton of tasking from MacDill we need to take care of, but if you had anything hot . . .’
‘After I talk with the NYPD, I know I will.’
‘We’ll be ready, sir.’
‘Thanks, both of you.’
‘It’s our job, sir. Hope you can get some sleep.’ And with that, Sharp and Archer departed, leaving Harlequin with a thumb drive, a thousand questions, and a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Harlequin’s contacts in the NYPD were stale, and in the chaos around the Breach, he wasn’t sure of his ability to get through to them anyhow.
He radioed Cormack. ‘What’s the ETA on our NYPD LNO?’
Cormack sounded harried. ‘No idea, sir. They were supposed to be here yesterday. I got a call this morning telling us to go through Fort Hamilton. I told them we needed our own.’
‘Good. I do not want to be slave to Hewitt’s good graces. We need our own rep, and we need him now. I understand the NYPD is busy. We’re all busy.’
He always thought better in the air. He Drew his magic and lifted himself above the modular concrete perimeter.
Harlequin had no choice but to convey Scylla’s offer of parley, and Gatanas had threatened to call in airstrikes from McGuire. Harlequin kept scanning the skies. Every scream and whistle was the sound of an approaching airplane engine.
But he had more pressing concerns. The enemy had finally pushed all the way south. The fighting raged from the barricades to the water now. The streets of lower Manhattan seethed with goblins dashing in and out of buildings, setting fire to storefronts. Here and there, rooftops blazed as the Army fought back, struggling to clear a safe zone where refugees could gather long enough for a helo flight to lift them out. Harlequin had given up trying to count the enemy after sunset on the first day. There were enough that he could never get them out with the force he had to hand. That was all he needed to know.
Goblins practically boiled around the T-walls surrounding the park, giants dotting the mass.
A small helo had dropped off a few of the Fornax Novices ahead of the rest of their class. One of them crouched on top of the barricade. She looked all of twenty years old, scrawny in her uniform. The training-Coven patch showed a belching furnace with the words FORNAX above it, and HELL HATH NO FURY! below. The Novice’s name tape read BEAMER, and she didn’t look furious at all.
A javelin burst out of the goblin horde below, and she skittered back onto the painter’s ladder she’d used to climb up.
‘You okay?’ Harlequin called over to her.
Her eyes were frightened, but determined. ‘I’ve got it, sir.’
‘Okay. Just remember, you’re here for the Gahe. Don’t waste your efforts on anything else.’
He felt for her current, pulsing and flaring with anxiety despite the Limbic Dampener running through her veins. She should be in a schoolhouse, not on a battlefield.
‘Like right there,’ he pointed.
A Gahe swept through the throng, pushing a raging giant aside. The huge creature yelped and pulled back from its freezing touch. It flailed petulantly, but the mountain god was already gone, stutter-flashing toward the wall. It fetched up short, moving along the barricades laterally, looking for openings.
Harlequin sighed relief. Their short teleporting could move them quickly over open ground but not through solid objects. Otherwise, his tenuous hold on Battery Park would have fallen already.
‘Novice Beamer,’ he said, ‘clear that scout off my perimeter.’
Practice would make perfect. Might as well get her used to it.
She nodded, scrambling back up the ladder to the top of the barricade, in such a hurry that she overbalanced and Harlequin Drew his magic, ready to fly out to catch her if she pitched over the edge. She steadied herself, concentrated. He felt goose bumps rise as she Drew and Bound her current into a fireball that streaked out from her extended hands. Her aim was off, the ball lopsided and weak, but it slammed into the ground beside the Gahe, singeing it and sending several goblins shrieking, beating at their burning clothing. The Gahe shrieked as well, stutter-flashing backward, giving the barricade wall a more respectful distance.
We can hurt them, Harlequin reminded himself. We can hurt them and that means we can hold.
He smiled at Beamer, willing courage into her. ‘Well done. We’ll make a Sorcerer of you yet.’ She smiled back, then craned her head skyward as churning rotors announced the arrival of two Chinook heavy helicopters.
Harlequin met the helos on the ground, where Hewitt and Knut were already talking to the crew chiefs. The first helo discharged a group just like the Novice up on the barricade wall; children in uniform. The rest of Gatanas’s arcane complement, the training Covens Carina and Cephalus, scurried out, duffels on their shoulders, jostling one another as they tried to form up by squad in front of Colonel Hewitt, equally terrified of his scowl and his rank.
‘At ease!’ Harlequin shouted. ‘We don’t have time for a muster. Once we take roll, I need everyone back in the air.’
A chorus of salutes began, and Harlequin waved his arms. ‘I said “at ease”. This is a no-cover, no-salute area.’
Hewitt looked like he would argue, but he only stood with arms folded trying to look as if it were all
his idea.
Harlequin turned to Knut. ‘Sergeant Major, could I ask you to take accountability, please?’
Knut reddened, gritted her teeth, and began calling out names, checking them off on a clipboard as the Novices responded.
‘Everyone listen up!’ Harlequin shouted. ‘You are going to turn around, get back on these helos, and from there on in, Colonel Hewitt has the ball.’ He gestured to Hewitt, hoping the allocation of some authority would mollify him. ‘He’s going to distribute you across the barricades that hold the northern edge of the enemy line. They are currently manned by a mix of National Guard, NYPD, and SOC LE support units. They have almost no arcane support and are in danger of being overrun. This is because we are facing the largest complement of Gahe we’ve ever seen. Everybody know what one of those is?’
The heads bobbed. Harlequin could see terror in many of the faces, passion and determination in a few. They’re eager at least.
‘You are going to make sure those barricades hold. There are millions of people in New York City. They are counting on you to give them the time they need to leave. The conventional forces can handle the goblins, rocs, and giants, but the Gahe are your problem. I know you haven’t had a chance to complete your training, but you joined the SOC to help, and now is when that help is needed. Huah?’
‘Huah, sir!’ The response was uneven. A few voices broke.
‘Everybody shot up with Dampener? There won’t be any Suppression out there unless you’re lucky enough to find one of the SOC operators. I can’t have folks going nova on me now. Remember that skill beats will. Stay safe and controlled, but above all, hold your positions.’
‘Huah, sir!’ Better, but still not what he’d like.
‘All right.’ He turned back to Hewitt. ‘All yours, Colonel.’ Hewitt nodded and began barking at them to get back in the helo. Harlequin accepted the clipboard from Knut. ‘All present and accounted for, sir.’
‘Thank you, Sergeant Major.’ Harlequin tried to let his tone reflect his gratitude. He couldn’t afford another enemy. ‘I really appreciate you covering my six here.’
If Knut was mollified, she gave no sign. She started to salute, stopped halfway, and jogged off to help Hewitt.
Harlequin turned to the other helo. The Chinook’s cavernous interior was easily big enough to hold fifty men. Instead, it held three. The first was a soldier kitted for war, carbine at the low ready. The second was a SOC Suppressor, arms folded, magical current steady and disciplined.
The third was Sarah Downer.
The young Elementalist’s hair had grown long enough to be tied into a nub of a ponytail. The extra weight she’d carried when Harlequin had first brought her in was long gone. Her body was lean, taught, tensed. An operator’s musculature. She was younger than Beamer, but she looked years older, already blossoming into a fierce beauty visible in spite of her evident exhaustion. She wore a one-piece orange prisoner’s jumpsuit, her wrists zip-cuffed behind her, her head fitted with an antispitting hood, complete with collar and ball gag. Her eyes were icy slits.
‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!’ Harlequin shouted.
He stormed up the Chinook’s ramp, easing the hood off her head. ‘Seriously? A hood? How’s she supposed to spit on you when you’ve got her gagged? And why the hell is she gagged in the first place?’
The Suppressor shrugged. ‘SOP, sir. High-value detainee transfer.’ He produced a folded piece of paper from his cargo pant pocket. ‘I’ll need you to sign the hand receipt for her, sir.’
Harlequin yanked the paper out of the man’s hand and stuffed it in his own pocket while he drew out his pocket knife and began to cut through her zip cuffs. ‘She’s not property. She’s a person.’
‘Still need that signed, sir,’ the Suppressor said.
‘Nope,’ Harlequin said, ‘and if you don’t like it, you can stay here. I can sure as hell use you.’
The Suppressor paused, then shrugged again. ‘Suit yourself, sir,’ he said, then signaled to the crew chief as soon as Harlequin cleared the ramp with Downer. Harlequin felt her magical current spike briefly as the Suppression fell away. The rotors spun up, and the helo began to rise. Harlequin left Downer and flew up in front of the cockpit, blocking the helo’s ascent. ‘Get the fuck back down! Land this thing right now!’
The pilot gestured to him to wave off. Harlequin didn’t move. At last, the helo settled back down onto its landing gear, and Harlequin flew around to the open cargo bay where the soldier and Suppressor gaped at him. ‘Respectfully, sir,’ the Suppressor said, ‘don’t make me Suppress y . . .’
‘Shut the fuck up,’ Harlequin said. ‘You try to take off without loading this bird full of refugees, and I will have you shot down. Do you fucking understand me?’
The Suppressor gaped. ‘Sir, we’re headed back to Virginia. We don’t have anywhere to house and care for refugees!’
‘Put ’em up on your damn couch! I don’t give a fuck. Anywhere is safer than here!’
‘Sir, I . . .’
‘I’m giving you an order. Now, you hold position while my people load you up. I swear to God, I will not let you depart without a full hold.’
The Suppressor threw up his hands and walked back toward the cockpit. Harlequin motioned to the soldiers tending the refugees, who began getting them up and over to the helo.
He returned to Downer, standing beside her while he watched the first refugees load into the helo and take seats on the Chinook’s long benches. The rotors spun back up and blasted them with dust, but the helo stayed grounded.
Harlequin turned back to her cuffs. He sliced through them, Binding his magic to conjure winds that blew back the rotor wash spilling over them.
‘I’m sorry about the cuffs,’ Harlequin said. Poor kid must be terrified, confused. The Army has kicked her around, detained her. She must not know what to think. ‘We’ll get you cleaned up, some water. Maybe you can grab a . . .’
The cuffs came away, and Downer pivoted on the balls of her feet, slamming her fist into Harlequin’s jaw. His head snapped to the side, the world spinning, his vision graying.When he found his bearings again, he was lying on the ground, Downer standing over him. She didn’t look terrified, or confused. She looked furious.
‘You want your ass-kicking standing up? Because I’m happy to give it to you lying down.’ She didn’t look young at all. She looked ferocious. She looked beautiful.
Harlequin shook his head. Poor kid, indeed. He waved off a soldier who came running to help and slowly got to his feet, rubbing his jaw. ‘Actually, I was hoping you’d save the asskicking for the enemy. I need your help here.’
‘You . . .’ She stuttered over the words. ‘You need. My. Help? Are you fucking serious?’
‘Yes, Sarah. Completely. Utterly.
‘Desperately,’ he finished. Her current spiked, and she hauled it back in, far more disciplined than any of the Novices. He knew better than to use his own magic around her. Downer could turn any magical energy into a sentient elemental bound to her will.
She took a step, and Harlequin raised his hands. ‘Please don’t hit me again.’
‘You deserve worse,’ she spit. ‘Where the hell am I?’
‘New York City,’ Harlequin said. ‘Lower Manhattan specifically. It’s being invaded.’
‘By who?’
‘Remember Scylla?’
‘She’s here? How the hell did she get here?’
‘She’s figured out how to . . . rot through the fabric between the planes. And she’s linked up with the Gahe.’
Harlequin felt her anger spike with her magic. ‘I’ve been rotting in a cell for God knows how long! And for what? I did everything you asked me to! I worked for you! I fucking killed for you! This is how you pay me back?’
Harlequin couldn’t deny the truth of her words.
When Downer had first gone Selfer, he’d been the one who’d taken her down, spiriting her off to FOB Frontier, where her forbidden magic could be put to use in the SOC’s secret Probe Coven. With most Probes, it took some convincing to get them to toe the company line, but Downer’s youth made her impressionable, and her crush on him had been evident from the start.
He looked at the tension in her neck and shoulders. No crush now, that was certain.
A small group of soldiers rallied to him, standing in a wide circle, carbines ready. He waved them back.
They moved back a few more paces, watching warily.
He took a step, readying himself for another punch. ‘Sarah, that wasn’t me. I never wanted that for you.’
‘The fuck you didn’t! You stole my whole life!’
‘That’s bullshit, Sarah. You knew the law. You knew the consequences. Nobody stole your life. You fucking threw it away. If anything, I picked up the pieces and gave you something to work with. You didn’t have to run. You could have turned yourself in.’
‘The fuck I could have! You know what they do to Probes!’
‘Yes, Sarah, and now so do you. Is it really so bad?’
‘Yes,’ she seethed, ‘it is. Living a lie, having your life forfeit to cover up your government’s secrets, that’s really so bad. Being a slave isn’t a whole lot better than being dead.’
She was right, and he knew it. But the system, broken as it was, was still far better than the chaos that was the alternative. He remembered Grace, the bubbling ruin of humanity she’d left behind her as she walked the path to Scylla.
A giant bellowed, as if to accent the point, the refugees huddling together as its howl of rage echoed across the barricade wall.
‘Sarah,’ Harlequin said, ‘it’s a fucked-up system and a fucked-up situation, but it’s all we’ve got. People aren’t frightened for no reason. You were destroying a school. You had to answer for that. You came around, but that doesn’t change the fact that most Selfers out there haven’t.’ Grace hasn’t. ‘The Bloch Incident wasn’t a joke. The Burning Man massacre wasn’t a joke. People died, Sarah. Lots of people. That’s what we’re trying to stop. That’s why we’re so scared. Sometimes . . . sometimes, decent people get caught up in that. I don’t like it, but I understand it.’
