by Myke Cole
‘Are Swift and the rest throwing in their lot with her?’
‘He’s no fan of Scylla,’ Britton said, ‘but he’s no fan of yours, either.’
‘What have we got to lose?’ Bookbinder asked. ‘Besides the city, I mean.’
Harlequin sighed. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘let’s check in at the barricades, then we can bring it to Gatanas.’
‘Gatanas?’ Britton’s eyebrows rose. ‘He’s not going to give you permission . . .’
‘I won’t ask for permission. I’ll ask for forgiveness. Let’s grab a helo and head up to Houston.’
‘Helo?’ Britton opened a gate. ‘We don’t need a helo.’
Barricade One was already finished by the time Britton opened the gate from the quiet field in the Source.
They stepped out onto the building’s roof and into the swirling chaos of the defenders’ last gasp. Harlequin could feel the eddying of dozens of magical currents pulsing around him. Most rose from the street below, but a few reached him from above, flitting about the building. The snipers on the roof had scattered, some directing fire down into the street, most taking cover and firing panicked shots into the air.
He glanced skyward long enough to see two figures streak past, lightning blazing from their hands. They were moving too quickly, but he caught streaming long hair, jeans, and thick jackets. Definitely humans.
Below, the rock and gravel that packed the shipping containers flowed out of them, swirling and rising until a huge automaton stood, a hulking mass of asphalt, trash, and dirt. It lifted one of the now-empty shipping containers, tossing it aside like a toy. It smashed against the steps of the church, crashing through the dug-in positions of sandbags and piled tires, crushing the defenders behind them.
A hoarse cheer rose up from Scylla’s army.
The Gahe surged, making for the gap in the barricade. The Terramancer who’d conjured the automaton appeared behind them, arms raised, two more men at this side, both pouring gouts of flame into the ranks of the defenders, pulling back as the Gahe pushed through.
The flames swept over the remains of the barricade, then suddenly swirled, sputtered, and re-formed as man-shaped things that settled among the Gahe, swinging and tackling. Harlequin spotted Downer, kneeling at the building’s edge, brow furrowed in concentration.
But for every Gahe who stopped to fight the elementals, another sprinted past it, racing through the gap and up Broadway. Screams reached Harlequin as the civilians behind the police lines splintered and fled, too slow by far. Horns sounded from the goblin ranks, and they followed the mountain gods through.
One of Downer’s air elementals had carried her to the church’s steeple, where she directed the flame-men below. The mortar positions went silent as the defenders mixed with the attackers and the hand-to-hand fighting began. Downer’s elementals leapt among them, reducing them to howling smoke at the touch of their flaming fists, but they were extinguished by the Gahe’s freezing death throes, and more of them pushed past and into the city beyond.
The Terramancer’s automaton reared above them, pounding with huge rock fists. It gripped a police mobile command center, lifted it two-handed, slammed it down into a knot of policemen and soldiers.
It was enough. The defenders turned and fled along Houston Street, firing blindly over their shoulders, leaving the way open.
‘Jesus,’ Britton said. ‘I’ll be back.’ He flashed open a gate and disappeared through it. A moment later, it reopened, and beaten police and soldiers came stumbling through, following as Britton pointed them to positions at the building’s edge.
The defense coiled in upon itself, retracted, suddenly exposed at the flanks. Harlequin heard screams as the NYPD cops and National Guard soldiers suddenly found the enemy at their rear, in among them.
The rest went quickly. Harlequin watched in slack-jawed horror as the line of defense retracted east and west, a rubber band severed down the middle. Scylla’s army pursued them, taking them down with spears and arrows in their backs, shouting insults and shaking fists.
In moments, Harlequin couldn’t see a single uniform in the midst of the seething mass of enemy below.
To the last bullet and the last man, sir, the captain at Barricade Three had said, they won’t get through while we draw breath.
True enough. There were precious few left breathing down there now.
Scylla’s army took a moment to survey the field of victory, then followed the Gahe north, where New York lay before them like a sacrificial offering, defenseless.
Downer alighted on the roof beside Britton, stared frankly. She jerked her chin at Harlequin. ‘He promise you a pardon, too? I’m getting one once this is over.’
She looked out over the ruin of the barricades. ‘Which I’m thinking might be sooner rather than later. Guess maybe he’ll go back on his word now.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Britton said. ‘If there’s any problem, I’ll get us out of here.’
‘Enough,’ Harlequin said. ‘Let’s get back to Battery Park.’
‘For what?’ Bookbinder said. ‘They’re through.’
‘Which means we have to find another way to stop them. It’s time for us to get our own message out.’
The reporter looked about twenty years old, with a scrubby beard and oversized eyeglasses. He bustled about, setting up a tiny camera on a tripod, hands trembling. He probably thought this scoop would make his career. Hell, it probably would.
There was no shortage of journalists risking their lives to document the story. Harlequin had plucked this guy off a tiny boat bobbing off the ferry terminal, taking advantage of the fact that all of the NYPD harbor and Coast Guard units had long since gone ashore to lend their guns at the barricades, or had their boats in either the Hudson or East River to harass the enemy from the water.
‘So . . .’ Harlequin said.
‘Ben,’ the reporter said to Britton. ‘It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir. I’m so incredibly psyched for this. I did a lot of the production for the second Gate-Gate coverage. Been a big fan of yours for a while.’
‘You said major networks,’ Harlequin said.
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘You’re living in the Dark Ages. Nobody watches that crap anymore.’
Harlequin felt his fists bunch. ‘The whole reason I gave you this story was because I need distribution. Now if you can’t . . .’
The kid wasn’t interested. ‘You want to reach the largest possible audience as quickly as possible? Or did you want to have the cachet of a major network and only be seen by a handful of geriatrics who are watching with one eye as they run off to work or put the kids to bed?’
Harlequin considered that.
‘Have you ever heard of viral media?’ Ben asked. ‘I just tweeted a link to my live feed,’ Ben went on. ‘I have over fifty thousand followers . . . no, wait. Make that over one hundred and fifty thousand. Go figure, folks like to see shots of your headquarters here. That link has been retweeted to a total of . . . uh . . . looks like almost two million nodes so far. That doesn’t count online shares on other social-media sites. You’ve got to trust me on this. People are getting it. This is too big not to draw attention.’
Harlequin and Bookbinder had donned fresh uniforms, cleaned themselves up as best they could. Clean-shaven, hair combed, they looked bizarre amid the bedraggled, filthy soldiers outside the ready room. Harlequin had stationed two guards to keep the room clear. The troops under his command would see the broadcast soon enough, and there would be a reckoning when they did. Therese had remained at the barricade with Downer. Her magic was needed everywhere, but there most of all.
‘You ready?’ he asked Bookbinder. ‘Once we do this, there’s no turning back.’
‘We’ve already done it,’ Bookbinder said. Gatanas had cradled his head in his hands and nodded when Har
lequin had given him the news. You’re relieved of command, Lieutenant Colonel. General Bookbinder has the ICP now.
Very well, sir, Bookbinder had said. My first command is to put Oscar Britton on the air. We’re going to lose if we don’t turn this tide. Barricade One broke less than an hour ago. There are enemy in the city north of the line. The Breach Zone is . . . breached. We need something, or it all comes apart.
Gatanas had watched them for a long time, eyes tired. At last he shook his head. Sounds like you’ve made your call. He’d severed the connection.
Harlequin guessed that, secretly, Gatanas hoped they’d do it. He knew circumstances were desperate in New York and that this move had as much of a chance as any to halt Scylla’s momentum. If it worked, Gatanas would take full credit for it. If it didn’t, his hands were clean.
Harlequin looked over at Britton, dressed in a clean casual shirt and jeans. Clean was good, but the informality bothered him. ‘I can’t convince you to put on a tie?’ Harlequin asked. ‘We’re surrounded by every store in the world. I’m sure we could . . . borrow you something Scylla’s army hasn’t managed to burn or shred yet.’
‘You’re appealing to people who have been hounded by politicians for years,’ Britton said. ‘You want me to dress up like one?’
‘Everyone is going to see this,’ Harlequin said. ‘Not just Selfers. We have to convince the whole country. The whole world.’
Britton shook his head. ‘You’re still trying to play their game. That’s done.’ He nodded to Ben. ‘Let’s go.’
Ben nodded back, his voice trembling with excitement. ‘Live in five, four . . .’ He mouthed the remaining countdown, flashing fingers until he reached zero. A red light shone from the camera’s top as he started recording.
Harlequin’s TV instincts kicked in and he straightened, put on the face he’d used on dozens of news shows since he’d been appointed Special Advisor to the Reawakening Commission: authoritative, serious. He was used to working in a professional studio, and the dirty, cluttered digs left much to be desired, but he knew from experience it would come across as authentic, and that would curry favor with the audience. As Britton began to speak, there was an explosion outside, and the building shook. He restrained the urge to rush out and see what had happened. This was too important. He had good people out there. They would hold.
‘Most of you know who I am,’ Britton began, ‘but in case you don’t, I’m Oscar Britton. I am the so-called Selfer fugitive who helped save FOB Frontier. There’s a lot of people out there who have staunchly supported me, and I’m deeply humbled by that.
‘And now I want to call on that support. Most of you also know that this country is experiencing the biggest threat to its existence since its founding. A powerful army of monsters is in our midst, and I won’t lie to you, it’s got a real shot of doing some serious damage.
‘The leader of this army has put out a call to all Latent people to help her. From what I can see here in New York, some of you have already answered that call. That’s a mistake.
‘She talks a lot about freedom and being part of some master race of magical beings that rules over humanity. She’s brought up the fact that she’s Latent as if it gives her some kind of moral authority. She throws in some gripes about the government’s treating her badly. Well, I’m Latent, too, and I’ve got as much of a beef with the government as anyone.
‘Scylla has talked a lot about Latent people “no longer being dogs for weaker beings”. I don’t see non-Latent people as weaker than me. I don’t even see them as being all that different. Science is just beginning to wrap its head around magic and how it works, but I already understand it well enough to know that there’s something about my limbic system that allows me to channel it. That makes me powerful, but it doesn’t mean I’m not human, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean that this isn’t my home.
‘I know Scylla. I’ve watched her butcher hundreds of people. She’s only interested in replacing the tyranny she rails against with one of her own. You’ll see if you answer her call. You won’t be fighting alongside other human Selfers. You’ll form less than one percent of an army of monsters straight out of your worst nightmares. I’ve fought these so-called Mountain Gods, and they’re not pretty, or nice, and they sure as hell don’t care about the future of humanity. If they win this fight, do you think they’ll simply say, “Hey! Thanks for the help, we’ll just go back to where we came from now!” They’ll stay, and I don’t want to find out what the world they’d build here looks like.
‘Scylla’s partially right. The government has done Latent people wrong, and it needs to change the laws. But we have to do it right. Blowing up the biggest city in the country isn’t the way.
‘It’s slower and it’s more complicated and it’s frustrating as hell, but there’s a right way to fix this. We need to amend the McGauer-Linden Act. I am standing here with Lieutenant Colonel Jan Thorsson and Brigadier General Alan Bookbinder of the Supernatural Operations Corps. Most of you know who they are, and that they were willing to defy their government rather than allow it to do wrong by you.
‘Scylla has promised you a kingdom apart from humanity. That’s bullshit. She is human, as are we all, and we don’t need to live apart from anyone.
‘Here’s my counteroffer. Help us to beat her. The SOC promises to convene a special committee to review the McGauer-Linden Act with a mind toward allowing Latent persons who prove control over their abilities to live as free citizens: not in the SOC, not in the NIH monitoring program, not in the Marine Corps Suppression program. Their own magic at their own disposal. Private citizens, equal under the law.’
There was, of course, no guarantee that the president would accede to these demands. No promise that a defeat of Scylla wouldn’t instantly devolve into a civil war as Selfers demanded rights the government had never agreed to give them.
‘We’re with Scylla on this much: Limbic Dampener will be subsidized, mass-produced, and distributed. Control over magic will not be held hostage to the profits of the Entertech Corporation. All will have access, especially the newly Manifested.
‘This process will be slow, there will be hurdles. It will be frustrating, but the alternative is what you see here and in Mescalero. I don’t want to live in those ruins. That’s why I’m for the slower road, the longer road, the right road.
‘I’m here to fight against Scylla and what she stands for. I am Latent, and I’m human, like all of you. I am fighting for humanity, and I ask you to join me. After the victory here, we will start on the road toward freedom, equality, and peace for all of us. They called us Selfers because they thought we used magic only for ourselves. In New York, let’s use our magic for others. Join me. Push back this threat. Save this city. Together, we’ll forge a new world of magic with room for all.’
Ben waited another moment before stopping the camera. They waited in silence as he opened a smartphone and began tapping away at the screen. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘You’re live.’
‘How can you be sure that . . .’ Harlequin began, but the news channels on the monitors were already showing him and Bookbinder standing to either side of Oscar Britton with the words BREAKING NEWS scrolling beneath. On the major networks in an instant.
‘Thank you,’ Harlequin said.
Ben shrugged. ‘Thank you. I truly hope you beat this thing, and I truly hope the government does right by its Latent citizens.’
They’d promised Ben he could stay in the park and film, and he headed out of the ready room to start gathering footage. The three men stood in silence, thinking on the gravity of what they’d just done.
‘Think it’ll work?’ Harlequin asked.
‘Probably not,’ Britton answered. ‘I believed every word, and it still sounds like crap to me.’
Harlequin shrugged. ‘They impeached Walsh. Hopefully, that was a step in the right direction.’<
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‘I think seeing you and General Bookbinder in the picture will help,’ Britton said. ‘A star carries a lot of authority.’
Bookbinder snorted. ‘Porter might take to the airwaves any second and deny all of it.’
‘I don’t think he will,’ Harlequin mused. ‘We’re overwhelmed and losing ground here, and he knows it. He doesn’t want a disaster on his hands any more than we do. He can’t truck with Selfers or he publicly goes against his whole line. He’ll wait to see if we’re successful, make his call based on that.’
‘Gatanas didn’t tell us no,’ Bookbinder said.
‘An old mentor of mine once told me “that which is not specifically prohibited is authorized”.’ He wondered where Crucible was in this fight. The SOC was entirely on two fronts now, so if his old friend wasn’t here in New York, then he was neck deep in Mescalero.
‘So,’ Britton said slowly, ‘let’s say this doesn’t work, let’s say that the Selfers stick with Scylla. What happens then?’
‘Then?’ Harlequin sighed. ‘Then they take New York. Then, we lose.’
Interlude Nine
Beyond The Pale
Due to the critical security concerns surrounding the development of Limbic Dampener, the court has elected neither to liquidate Channel Corporation nor to solicit for proposals from the contracting community. As the government lacks the expertise in the federal workforce, we have selected the Entertech Corporation to take over where Channel left off after the unfortunate Manifestation and arrest of their CEO. Entertech has ably served the United States on arcane matters since its founding, and remains the only private entity in the country equipped to handle the unique technical, logistical, and security requirements of this crucial program.
– Cameron Williams Attorney,
Office of the Secretary of Defense
Six Years Earlier
Harlequin came to as Crucible dragged him upright, slapping drywall fragments from his shoulders. He blinked in the settling dust, staring in wonder at the pile of wood, wire, and metal that had formed a natural cave. He blinked again. Sunlight. The dust swirled out of what was now an open porch, spiraling as the breeze took it. The Channel building looked as if a bite had been taken out of its apex, left completely open to the sky.
