Again sorry for lateness. I got so caught up in finishing this novel (Eternity's Reach), that I spaced off posting again.
Recap: Going back to the main characters, of which we haven't read about for some time, they had just gotten Adara back into their group after leaving the German field camp.
This chapter is probably going to be hit pretty heavily when I come through it on the revision-warpath, but any input is still greatly accepted.
Chapter 7
Zhanna didn’t know why the supply lines had shut down the night before. Whatever the reason was, they had resumed running early in their trek. More trucks rattled off towards the front lines, carrying everything from troops, to guns and ammo, to food, to who knows what else. Several walking artillery pieces tramped past, and their footfalls echoed even through the sounds of their big hyper-diesel engine’s rumblings. Smoke shot into the sky, leaving a thick haze over the area that didn’t dissipate and instead lingered like some unnatural fog.
Still wary about taking Adara along with them her temper had cooled considerably since the day before, and she was even slightly beginning to warm up to her. There were still parts of her story that didn’t make sense to her, and the entire idea of selective memory loss that she seemed to be suffering from seemed too coincidental to be an accident of some kind. However she found herself in the minority and so she remained quiet, keeping her thoughts and opinions to herself.
Her face now covered with a full mask to keep the sun from burning her skin, she watched the supply lines through a shaded pair of goggles, giving her the appearance of some evil assassin or a bug-eyed monstrosity. She gestured Seamus up to her. He was dressed much in the same manner, his face covered and his eyes hidden behind shaded goggles.
She gestured towards the line, “Supply lines picked up. We’re going to need to pass through them at some point if we intent on finding that other portal.”
Seamus examined the area. The supply line itself was set in the middle of a wide open valley at the base of the mountains. Vegetation of any signifigant kind beyond grasses was sparse, and there was very few areas for them to find shelter and to hide from prying eyes. The city itself, Barossastad was set up against the mountains meaning that if they intended to continue past it, they would need to find a way around it.
“I don’t care for the situation. Any attempt of crossing it could get us caught. And it is too early in the day for us to wait until a night time crossing. The whole area is far too open,” he said. As if to further emphasize his words, an enemy airship drifted overhead. It wasn’t as large as the gunships they had seen earlier, but it was still a fairly sizable craft. It wasn’t drifting towards the front lines. Instead this one seemed to be engaging in a turn. A patrol craft watching for enemy infiltrators.
“We may need to head further up the road and see if we can find a better place to cross. The road has to come near the mountains somewhere,” Zhanna commented.
“We’ll have to see. And unless some other opportunity presents itself, we may not have a choice,” Seamus said.
“How did Adara get across? She had to have come from the same direction we’re going,” Zhanna asked.
“I think that crossing was nothing more but shear luck. I doubt she went through the city, and she had to have crossed it at some point. I think she simply crossed it at a time when there was very little traffic going across,” Seamus admitted.
Zhanna’s shoulders slumped. Damn, and here I was hoping she could provide us with some sort of useful information. She glanced up into the sky as the airship passed by. It was still earlier in the morning, and the sun was only ten or twenty degrees above the horizon. They were still several miles out from the city, and had some distance to continue bushwhacking before they arrived.
“Let’s go see what the others have to say about it,” Seamus said, and he moved back towards where the rest of the group was hiding out.
Zhanna lingered for a moment longer watching the airship glide off in the distance and then followed him back. She carefully picked her way over fallen branches and dangerous deadwood, all the while creeping along like some predatory cat, making very little sound as she moved. Her father had trained her in the arts of hunting and woodsmanship and it pleased her to no end that her current path of employment took advantage of these skills.
Seamus was already explaining to the others the current issue of the crossing. Amellia and Broussard nodded while he informed them, and Adara almost seemed to be hanging off of every word that Seamus said. Zhanna looked again and then wasn’t quite so sure about that one. There was something odd about Adara. Besides the obvious. She seemed very supernatural almost. Even if her story wasn’t true, there was still something strange about her, but Zhanna couldn’t place what it was. It’s almost as if she is hiding something, but I’m not sure even she’s aware of what it is.
Grigori continued to look on, standing almost motionless. For as long as Zhanna knew him, which had been almost four years, he had been that way. The most he had ever spoken about his past was that he had lived in Saint Petersburg, and had been imprisoned for some time for a crime that either he wasn’t guilty of, or if he was guilty, he had been justified in doing it. She had made a point of asking him several times, and each time the story changed. He killed a man, he robbed a bank, tried to kill the Tsar, and all of them were plausible possibilities.
He rarely spoke to the others. Some might thought he couldn’t speak, but she had shared many long conversations with him. He just didn’t care to speak. Perhaps he thinks his judgment is no longer trustworthy, she thought. Landing yourself in prison might do that to a person. Instead, as he had said before, he trusted her to make the right decisions, and simply followed along most of the time. If he disagreed with her, he was not ashamed to say as much.
Zhanna turned back toward the discussion at hand. Seamus was explaining the extent of the line, mostly to Broussard. Broussard nodded and listened, occasionally asking questions, but the discussion was fairly brief.
“I think that we need a better picture of what we’re looking at. Let’s move down the line and see what we can find closer to the city,” Broussard said.
They moved out, and started heading towards the city again. Zhanna took point, not too far ahead of the group. The travel was slow going, consisting of lots of bushwhacking, but occasionally finding a game trail created by one of the planet’s predators. Zhanna occasionally stopped to monitor the tracks on the ground, to check and see if this area was simply frequented by native fauna, or if he was used by any people. Her observations came back in the negative. There were plenty of signs of life along the trail, but none of the telling signs of a person’s passage.
She listened back, and Seamus was in a discussion with Adara about the conflict that they were embroiled in. Adara had asked a question about the various machines of war, and it suddenly occurred to Zhanna that if Adara was from another place, another world, then this entire conflict would seem like such a strange and alien place to her.
“The walking artillery pieces, the big ones you saw out there, were created first by the Yanks back during their Revolution several centuries back. Chap named Franklin was the person who first made them. Back then they were really nothing more but big mobile platforms that soldiers stood on and shot at people, hoping to hit things,” Seamus was saying
Adara nodded, confusion evident on her face as Seamus casually dropped words and names of people that she was completely unfamiliar with. She quickly changed the subject while Seamus was in the middle of discussing Watt’s contributions to the engines of walking artillery.
“Back on Earth, how many of these emperors and kings are there?” she asked.
“Well, it really depends on what you’d qualify as a king or an emperor. Some of them hold more power than others, and some countries don’t have them at all. Queen Victoria, bless her, is still on the throne of the British Empire after what… It’s been how long, Amellia?” Seamus asked.
“Somewhere near on a century,” she said.
“And a century was how long?” Adara interjected.
Oh, the joys of telling time on different planets, Zhanna thought. It was true. Not all colony planets orbited their suns as the same rate as Earth, nor did they even rotate as fast, as it was here on Charleswelt. They generally used the standard year schedule as it was back on Earth, but a local time system, generally divided into a metric set of time for any given world.
“Let me explain it this way. One century is one hundred years. I’m a little over a quarter that. Queen Victoria’s been on the throne for something like three times my age. It’s a fairly long time. Then you’ve got the Kaiser. He’s in charge of the German Empire, and there is also the Tsar of Russia. By the way, Tsar and Kaiser mean the same word, just in different languages,” Seamus explained.
Zhanna still didn’t understand how Tsar and Kaiser weren’t translated automatically to their respective meanings of “Caesar” through the tongues aura that Adara had kept up. A lot of magic like that made her head hurt when she started thinking about it too much. Her trade was relatively simple and easy, and she preferred it that way.
“And the Americans, you Yanks don’t even have a King,” Seamus said, smiling at Broussard.
“Damn straight, we don’t. Don’t need us the yoke of royal oppression. A representative republic. That’s what we are,” Broussard retorted.
“What’s that?” Adara asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“In laymans terms in means that the people in the country pick representatives whose opinions and morals align with theirs to represent and govern them. The idea is that the people govern themselves,” Seamus explained.
“So yours must be a very educated people, for if they govern themselves, they would have to remain very well informed on their political issues,” Adara asked.
“Erm, not quite,” Broussard said,” It’s true that there may be some unqualified for the prospect of voting, but that is the beauty of the system. Everyone is still allowed to express their own opinion regardless of their social class.”
“Except women. Their votes are worthless. And you’re not very keen on the negros voting either,” Amellia said, with a slight smile.
‘Well that’s beside the point!” Broussard said, acting very indignant. “And for another thing…” He was cut off by Seamus before he could continue.
“I think that you’ve dug that hole quite far enough,” he said.
“I’m not sure I understand the expression, but I can’t help but wonder why you think that a representative government that doesn’t represent both men and women can be fairer than any other,” Adara observed.
“I don’t think you want to hear the rest of what he has to say,” Seamus said.
Broussard glared at him, but remained silent even though he was visibly upset. Normally Broussard would have shouted Seamus down for daring to argue with him, but for some reason or another, he temper was lessened and he remained silent, instead crossing through the rough terrain, snapping branches and twigs out of his way.
“Who exactly is the man that you are seeking?” Adara asked.
She certainly is a fountain of curiosity, Zhanna thought. It almost felt like she was interrogating them, trying to find our every aspect of their lives. The majority of the conversation was working out more like some sort of political question and answer session than any sort of meaningful dialogue.
“The man that we are after is a man named Aleister Crowley. He is an astromancer who has gone rogue, and we’ve been ordered to find him at virtually any cost,” Broussard said.
“What did he do? Just one man to elicit the need for so many to hunt him down,” Adara asked.
“You need to understand first. Astromancers in our world are the elite of the elite. They can open portals to other worlds, teleport themselves and surrounding objects at will, rain fiery death from the heavens, and cause destruction on a very massive scale. They are generally kept on a tight leash, but Crowley was always a fringe worker. The Crown found out that Crowley had been creating numerous mystical groups that experimented in incredibly dangerous and sometimes forbidden magics, using his power and prestige to scam and trick people out of resources for his own goals,” Amellia explained.
“That doesn’t sound too much like someone who needs five spellcasters to hunt down,” Adara said.
“Wait, it gets better. When I say dangerous magics, I mean dangerous stuff. He used rituals in some of his retreats in Scotland and Egypt as well as numerous other places to try to summon demons, devils, and other dark powers. He didn’t succeed, but he used blood sacrifices in some of these rituals. He was exiled from Great Britain, the Americas, France and Russia, and the Germans followed suit, eventually all of them trying to hunt him down, and he fled here, supposedly with a large faction of followers,” Amellia continued.
“The followers consist of both colleagues he had when he once belonged to a society called the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, as well as a large faction of followers in a society he himself created called the Silver Star. Many of these were also incredibly powerful astromancers from all over Europe. This was a large loss on the part of the numerous empires and governments and they weren’t too keen on letting him run off with so many valuable assets. We’re supposed to find him and bring him back,” Seamus said, taking over where Amellia had left off.
“And now he has opened a portal to another world. One would have to wonder what he is up to. What is he planning?” Zhanna mused out loud.
“Maybe he thinks he can find demons in the places I came from,” Adara said.
Everyone paused, letting the comment sink in. Zhanna hadn’t considered that possibility. There were certainly strange things that she had encountered over the years that she couldn’t explain. She didn’t want to be the first one to automatically assume a supernatural cause for it, and she certainly wasn’t one who actually thought that one could summon demons or otherworldy forces. Such things certainly were at the very worst fabrications, and at best impossible to do. But even now, she wasn’t so sure about that anymore.
“Are there… demons in the place you came from?” Seamus asked, nervousness creeping into his voice.
Adara shook her head. “All I remember was that feeling of peace and contentment, and then confusion and fear, and then coming here. Something happened in the world that I passed through. It was not a natural place; it was definitely nothing like this one. I wish I could tell you more, and I’m sure you think me awfully useless for not being able to explain it further.”
Seamus grasped her arm, possibly more intimately than he probably intended, Zhanna noticed. “No, not at all like that. You’ve been incredibly valuable. I wish I could help you remember more of what happened. I’m just as interested in finding these things out.”
“Thank you, that means much to me,” Adara said with a smile, looking at Seamus.
Zhanna rolled her eyes. “That’s great and all, but this still doesn’t address the current problem that we’re facing. Namely, do we attempt a crossing of the supply lines now, or what?”
“Why do we have to cross?” Adara asked.
“Because your portal is on the other side of the supply lines. Did you forget that too?” Zhanna snapped.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Adara retorted. “I mean, why are you going to cross the supply line at all? You could just go through the city, and try to blend in there. If we got appropriate clothing for moving through there, then no one would be the wiser to us passing. Anyone attempting to pass through the supply lines would be immediately noticed, but someone passing through the city would be ignored like the next person.”
Once again everyone was stunned to silence by Adara’s observation. They could try to infiltrate through the city, even given their strange looks, as long as they kept up a decent pace, and didn’t do anything stupid, they could theoretically make their way through the urban areas, and pass on beyond that.
“It could work, in theory at least,” Broussard said. He scratched his chin absent mindedly as if he were deep in thought. “It could work,” he repeated again.
“However, let’s first check and make sure there aren’t any decent crossing points as well along the trail. There is no telling whether we might find the supply lines passing through a wooded area or something along those lines further up,” Zhanna observed, trying to offer a counter point to Adara’s suggestion.
Crossing the supply lines was easy enough, but the approach was more difficult than one might think. It was studded with gas lamps providing illumination out to several hundred yards. One could easily observe anyone approaching it without too much difficulty even on the darkest night imaginable. Eventually the lights would be put out as they would be serving no greater purpose as giving a target for the German artillery zeppelins. Vehicles passed by at regular intervals and it was too much to hope for a lull in activity like there had been previously in order to cross.
Zhanna had been tempted first by the thought of just waiting for a large gap in the vehicle line and then making a break for it, trying to cross the road before anyone saw them. However that idea had been shot right out of the sky. This was an infiltration mission and their commands had been crystal clear. Don’t get seen. If they were observed making their way towards the city, no doubt Crowley would get jittery and vanish as he had before. If virtually every major power on Earth wanted him, one did not disappoint them by blowing their cover for the mission.
If only one of the governments had been serious enough about this to give up an astromancer, then they could have simply teleported to the portal, nabbed Crowley and been back in time for lunch. But the powers that be evidently thought otherwise, and instead they had to hoff it across the country and make due with what they had.
Zhanna briefly wondered why it was that the others had decided to join up for this mission in the first place. International covert operations like this were not ones to be given afterthoughts, and the best were generally the ones picked to go. Zhanna had gone because it sounded like a nice change of venue. The majority of her time was spent training for what the Tsar thought was the inevitable invasion by the Germans. The invasion had never come, and so she had spent most of her time wishing something would happen. Grigori claimed that it was his civic duty to take part in the mission, but Zhanna suspected it was something more like an Imperial pardon. If he took part in the mission he would be forgiven for whatever crime it was that he had committed.
Broussard’s motives were obvious. He felt it was not just duty, but that he had no other choice but to accept the mission. Patriotism ran strong in that one, even if on the surface he didn’t show it as readily as some of his fellow countrymen might do. Amellia did so partially because she was ordered to, but also for much of the same reasons that Zhanna did. Interesting that the same motivation could come from such polar opposites.
As for Seamus’ motivations, they never seemed to be incredibly clear. He claimed that it was patriotism, but from what Zhanna had heard, the Irish weren’t exactly being the most patriotic subjects of the queen, especially lately. The Crown had crushed several rebellions that had taken place in Ireland, and a lot of Irish found themselves in immediate dislike of the Crown. Seamus had given no such indications that he was unsatisfied at all. Whatever his true motivations were, he had certainly made no mention of them.
