She gave us one hour to study what we saw in the paperwork. All of us shared our thoughts and feelings about how to combat this nemesis. Then the hour was up, and everyone left, well everyone except yours truly. Queen Mother said she'd listened to everyone, including her newest old friend, Drayden, and in her opinion the Machinists were the only ones who stood a chance against one hundred hardcore soldiers with backup on the way. I disagreed, but not because I doubted myself. I didn't want to use the new recruits because they had never been in the line of fire wearing the suits. It was just as simple as that. Too many what if's, nowhere near enough training, and we can't under any set of circumstances lose the technology behind the armored suits. Not just a preference, a basic fact that won't change for Greg and Matthew because they’re new or it's unfair.
The fact that I'd disagreed, and seventy-five cents wouldn't collectively buy coffee, let alone change her mind, so I told her we'd be suited up and gone within the hour. She thanked me, and Demi and I left.
You know all those push pins I'd been talking about? Well, once the Machinists became the issue, I forgot about even bringing them up until I was suiting up to go to Hades.
Greg crossed himself when I gave the news and explained where we were going. Matthew said, "Dude, that's radical" and attempted to high-five me like I had just given him the best news ever. I think there might be a screw loose in there somewhere.
Neither of these two boys had been cleared for the use of rockets, so it was darts and disruptors, and that meant hand to hand combat. They also had flight capabilities, but neither of them had been rated for any type of real airborne work. They had each hovered once, and I don't actually have enough nerve to call that flight. Each suit has a human, remote Screener which monitors and to some degree controls them during their missions though, and most of the features have an automatic override function which we're going to use liberally today and hope for the best.
Thirty-five minutes later, we're standing on the Northern Terrace, Greg and Matthew suited up, I'm giving Demi a hug. For once she's not truly worried about me; this time her concern is all about the two boys. They look about as ready as Napoleon did right before Waterloo. The three outriders contacted Queen Mother and confirmed what we had already surmised. There should be nothing to stop us from leaving.
I had waited as long as I thought I could. We had to go. Queen Mother was waiting, and if we waited too long, the bad guys would beat us there and our fight would be infinitely worse. Seconds later, I stood suited, and tested the intercom between the suits.
"You guys ready to fly?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," said Greg.
"Dude, let's R.I.P. some demon butt!"
I cringed at Matthew’s statement; however, I couldn't knock his enthusiasm. Contacting their Screeners was but a moment’s work, and all of us listened to the countdown to liftoff.
The sound of three suits activating at the same time was awesome, and we lifted to a foot and a half off the floor. Our arms were adjusted by the auto systems, and we leaned forward, boot rockets firing to the same degree of declination as the boosters pushing from our palms. There was a moment of hesitation, and then we were shooting like stars toward our next reckoned point of fifty thousand feet. We broke the sound barrier at twenty thousand and kept accelerating until the desired altitude had been achieved. Once there, I saw their arms adjusting to level their bodies for the jump to the River Styx. So far so good, and Matthew either didn't get the urge to holler or he swallowed his gum again. During his only other flight/hover, he got so excited that his bubble gum became an impromptu snack, and he hasn’t lived it down yet. I have to say, it was pretty funny.
The screens in my helmet snapped into place, letting me know the Ley Gates were coming up fast.
"Greg, Matthew . . . single file. Greg, you take anchor."
Greg answered first.
"Acknowledged."
"Me too, Dude," Matthew replied. He really needs to work on his radio etiquette.
Once again, my helmet screens showed in stark relief, only this time from the rear, and showed how the two were lining up behind me at intervals of about thirty feet.
We held speed and hit the Ley Gate at Mach two. The turbulence was tolerable, but I'm sure the recruits were clinching by the time we punched through to the Larger World.
Seconds later, we had broken out over the River Styx and although our cameras could make out Cheron, I doubt that he could see us at this altitude. We were twenty yards to his right, and in the time it took me to register his presence we were miles beyond his Ferry, about to increase our speed again.
A red flashing light appeared on my helmet screens indicating an incoming call. That limits who it could be, as very few people have this number. My on-board phone is actually a two-way radio and is powered by the same source as the suit. It's the only way we could get a radio signal to work in an area that prohibits any kind of technology from being utilizable. Except ours, of course. I had Walter open the line, and Abercrombie's face slid into my helmet from the right.
"I take it you've heard what's going on?"
Abercrombie chuckled, and it was the amused sort of laugh I've come to expect from him.
"Oh yeah, Queen Mother was adamant about not helping you but after she stressed it a couple of times, even I got the message. We're in position but not taking any action as per her request. I guess me and the boys aren't supposed to do anything unless you get your butt in a crack. Then we have to save the day and keep her main squeeze from getting dead. I kinda got the idea that she is concerned cause you're running with a couple of newbies."
"Yup, lucky me. I think they'll be okay as long as nothing goes wrong. I'll keep you informed as we go along. Thanks for being there."
"No sweat, man. This is important stuff so we can't have you guys overheating or anything . . . just saying. You can't do much if you power down and turn into a T.V. Dinner."
"You're right, and thanks for reminding me so eloquently. Just remember, this is armor not tin foil. We'll try not to be a liability to you real Warriors. Maybe you guys will learn this time how it's really done in the big city."
Abercrombie gave me a much better chuckle than the one before, but without getting too serious; what I had said was that we were going to be fine.
"Well then, Emerald Warrior, we'll just watch and take notes."
The reference Abercrombie alluded to was a known glitch in the system. Push an A.E.S. too hard and it tends to overheat. If it does get too hot it shuts down, and you're stranded until it cools. It's a scary thought for all of us who wear the mobile armor, but hey . . . do you want to live forever?
One hour later, we were approaching the township in question. This place made a run-down slum look like a palace, and whoever chose the spot to build this dump should have been shot. The township is stuck out in the middle of nowhere with virtually no way to defend it if you had to. The last structure on each side of town is just placed helter-skelter with no reason for being there, it just is. The upside is that you can see all the way to the horizon on every side of town. At least no one will sneak up on them. Most of the buildings are leaning to one side, and some are held up by poles sunk into the ground and stuffed under the edge of the roof. It reminds me a little of some old western towns that you see in the movies, only drier and a lot more run down. The population turned out to be fifty-seven Denizen adults and thirty-one children of varying ages. We know this for a fact because the demons had killed them all and stuck them on poles in the center of town. It had been a slaughter and would go down in history quietly with no witnesses. The demons were all over the main street, going in and out of buildings and had set fire to the only house with any size. Probably the Denizen's version of the town Mayor had lived there.
I slowed us down to below mach and showed Greg and Matthew the coordinates we would be stopping over. The screens inside their helmets would give the exact aerial spot the suits would hover at, while I did a quick reconnaissance of the area below us. At this altitude we weren't even a good dot in the sky; and until I convinced myself this wasn't a trap that's exactly where we were going to stay.
The long-range cameras gave me everything I needed to know geographically, and an exact count on the number of demons present in the Township. There were two Class Nines and ninety-eight Class Fours. Nines were bad, that's not to say the Fours were easy, but they don't have the strength that the higher Classes possess. Put a hundred of anything together in one place and the situation could easily get out of hand. The only thing we were expecting but didn't find was Diana. I didn't know whether that was a good thing or not, but the ding-ding noise in my head wouldn't go away. The ding-ding was suspicion and paranoia.
The next, and most important thing of all, is where they have the Crystal Key. It wouldn't do any good to just attack the town randomly. Somebody would ferret the key away before we knew where to look.
We already have one of the three keys and we've spent an inordinate amount of effort scanning it for energy signatures. The theory was, the more we knew about the keys, the easier it would be to find the others. At the very least, we would know what we're looking for.
Walter took out the time to run a complete energy analysis, starting at one end of town and working his way toward the other.
When he was finished, we knew for a fact the key was not in any place anywhere, with the exception of one spot where we couldn't tell what was there at all. It was being shielded by a large concentration of low-grade iron. Could be where the key was, or it could just be the local blacksmith, but we knew it couldn't be anywhere else.
Decision time - and we were also developing yet another problem. I could see dust on the horizon made by a large contingency of people, probably in wagons being pulled by their strange version of oxen. If that turns out to be accurate then we've almost run out of time. It's now, or we would have to fight a larger group of demons.
The building in question had three major outside walls and one joined onto another part of a larger structure. Both of them were dilapidated and should have been condemned. Without my suit, I'd be afraid to enter either one of them. I transmitted the coordinates to my companions and gave them a countdown to landing in the spots on their screens. We cut the booster rockets and began to fall. By using the hand boosters, we oriented ourselves until we were facing the building from all three sides. The countdown continued on our screens, and twice the boot rockets fired to keep us at the same altitude during our descent. The Screeners were doing a bang-up job, and quite frankly, without them none of this would even be possible.
The boot rockets fired again at two hundred and fifty feet above the ground and continued firing until we reached one hundred feet. Then we dropped and hit the ground in a three-point stance. I stood immediately and set off my disruptors at the three nearest targets visible to me.
The disruptors were designed to do exactly what is implied, to disrupt living tissue. At lower settings it will give you the worst day of your life, complete with headache, nausea and a feeling that you've just had a heart attack. At higher settings it will blow the molecules of a living body apart, without the annoying need to reassemble them. I was using the highest setting I had. I couldn't for the life of me convince myself to show them mercy. Just wasn't on the menu.
Every time you fire the disruptors there is a discernible whine that rises in pitch just before it fires. It also serves as a wakeup call to all those around you in battle. Once you hear it whine and then see the carnage it causes, there is an instant fear factor that runs through most rational creatures. The first part of said factor says you can't win, and the last part says . . . you're dead.
The first three I opened fire on were now an integral part of the building they were standing next to. I could hear similar whines coming from the other sides of this ramshackle structure, and that told me the boys had their hands full but were still standing. The door to my side of the building opened and a demon took a step towards me; I fired and blew him back into the room. I could hear boot steps to his left, but they were receding from me. Cowards.
Whoever it was that ran, was trapped on that end of the room. Walter added two new screens in my helmet showing the cornered demon, and another on the far end of the room. I stepped into the darkened area and fired in both directions.
Standing alone in the carnage I had created, was an illusion. Another energy signal, faint but definitely there, told me it had to be under my feet. Nothing was visible in the room but the dirt floor, blown out windows, and a large pot belly stove made out of iron.
I could hear a disruptor going off in the distance, but only one. There should be two of them. I had not heard from either of the boys since I entered this building.
"Check in guys, talk to me."
"Dude, there's a lot of uglies out here. Tell me you found the Key so we can fly outta here."
I could hear the beginnings of desperation in Matthew's voice.
"We're holding our own Tanis, but I don't know for how long. Matt's disruptor malfunctioned and the Screeners tell him it'll be a minute or two before they're back online, and the darts only keep them down temporarily."
Greg was a bit more pragmatic about danger and reacted accordingly, but I also heard the crack forming in his nerve. I agreed with them both; we need to leave.
I moved over to the stove and ripped it loose from the pipe connecting it to the roof. Just for a second, I thought I smelled patchouli through the filtration system, but the sensation passed.Tossing the body of the stove to one side, revealed a trap door. These were fairly common in the Denizen world. They could hide anything that would fit in the underground area, from their children to food stuffs and valuables. This one had obviously not worked today. Two holes were drilled through the wood for semi easy access, and I ripped it from the hinges and tossed the useless door to one side.
I jumped into the room beneath, just as the building disintegrated around me. The noise was horrendous. Chunks of rotten wood rained down on me like I was standing in a hurricane. I know of only one thing capable of doing that . . .a Projector Bolt, and it had to have been a whopper. I hate those things. The oncoming train of wagons was about to catch us with our hands in the cookie jar.
On the floor in front of me was a crudely built crate with burn marks on the lid. A piece of hemp rope was sticking out of the side, allowing a person to drag it along behind them should they wish. The wood was ancient and pulling on it produced chunks and bit pieces. Inside was a small box made out of a metal that defied classification. Scratched on one side of it was the letter "D". It looked solid, as in "no way" to open it up, so I jammed it into the emergency pack located across my back plate. We'll work on it later. With my luck it's probably radioactive and will cause my future children to be born bald, with an intense urge to play the banjo.
The opening to the first floor was packed with debris, although I doubt any of it was dense enough to stop my progress.
"Tanis, Dude . . . there's like an army on the front porch. We reeeally gotta go."
Matthew was beginning to sound frantic. I could also hear explosions, and some of them were close. The wood standing in my way of freedom flew straight up, and light suddenly flooded into the dugout hole I was standing in. Greg's Helmet peered into the dust.
"Need help?" Greg inquired.
"Is Matthew, okay?"
"Yeah, I think he freaked when the building you were supposed to be in disappeared. We couldn't see if you went in or moved away before the blast."
Glancing around, I gathered Greg was right. The building was gone, nothing left but rubble and twisted metal stove parts. Let's hear it for iron.
More Projector Bolts were whistling in the air, and that meant there was going to be a large boom at the end. Some of the troops that were stationed waiting for the Dark Lord were retreating from the Township. Projector Bolts were indiscriminate about who they landed on, and it was evident the Dark Lord didn't care either. I could hear the oncoming enemy force and it was a sound I recognized immediately. They had horses. I had never seen horses on the Provinces before, and made a mental note to find out how they got here. That made their forces a great deal more mobile, and I needed that like I needed another hole in my head.
I couldn't let them get any closer, and we needed to leave. Walter loaded one bank of four rockets at my request, and they fired from the two shoulder launchers on the suit. I could feel the push against my chest plate, and a small trail was created behind each of them as they flew.
All four of the rockets impacted with the ground about twenty yards out in front of the lead horse. Huge gouts of rocks and earth flew up in a whirlwind that forced the horse to stop and rear up. One of the mounted demons fell off the back, and all of the horses suddenly wanted to run the other way. I thought it was a good idea too.
"Matthew, Greg . . . have the Screeners get you in the air now! Head for the river and go to twenty thousand feet as quickly as possible; they've got the ability to hit you at lower altitudes. Go!"
I wanted to make sure the two of them got off the ground safely before I left. Seconds later, I saw the boosters ignite and the two newbies launched skyward, arms down and picking up speed quickly.
I flipped the radio switch to off and turned toward the center of town.
"Walter, play back the scan that showed the total body count please."
There was a slight pause before Walter spoke.
"Although it was not mentioned at the time, there were eighty-seven bodies on the main street and one in the burning structure, the larger home."
There's that ding-ding feeling again, it just won't go away. Even worse, I could see the extra blip on the screen, but it just didn't register at the time.
"Walter, get me up to five hundred feet and re-scan that building, please."
The rocket boosters on my boots activated immediately and we rose quickly to the desired altitude. Seconds later, Walter broke the silence.
"There are three entities in the building, Tanis, two Class Nines and one Denizen. The Denizen, however, registers as deceased but is moving independently from the two demons. That cannot be right."
Diana. We learned only a short time ago that the Royal Family has the ability to register on our scans as dead people. Gross, but good to know. They can also register as demons. Now there's a real shocker, huh. The Royal children were all spawned from Denizen blood as well, hence the term Half-breed or Halfling.
This is what you get when you're in a hurry or too tired. Today we're just going to go with . . . too stupid. I'm willing to bet my radioactive future kids that Diana has the Key and is being protected by the Nines.
"Walter, angle us over and enter the building through the roof. As quickly as you can get us there."
We immediately changed trajectory, taking us directly over her energy signature, and then just plowed feet first through the roof. The front of the building was still burning, but at the rate of progress would take awhile to get where the three were stationed in the structure. That too was a tad convenient, but not obvious when we first entered this township. Like so many other things.
A large beam, once a load bearing part of the ceiling, broke loose as I crashed through to the floor. It also struck Diana on the shoulder, forcing her backwards and over a chair. The chair was cheap, like the rest of this town, and quickly turned to kindling. The two Class Nines spun around and the look on their faces told me I wasn't supposed to be there. I immediately fired my disruptors, and they became this house's new wallpaper. The whine the disruptors made had barely ceased when Diana was up and moving. I turned to compensate for her movement and fired again. Just as the whine started, she turned ever so slightly and winked out. No fanfare, no noise, it was like she turned an invisible corner and was gone. The disruptor beamed out, found nothing, and was gone. A fraction of a second later, she was back from out of nowhere and bounced off my suit. This wasn't the first time I had fought this petulant, arrogant, and self entitled child of the Dark Lord. Things have a tendency to fall on or run into you when you deal with her. I had been increasing my suit's weight on the way in. It weighed in excess of five thousand pounds, seconds after I landed. I'm pretty sure her plan had been to bowl me over and run out the back of the house.
This time, however, she didn't have that split second to move. I fired, and as she attempted to turn that corner again, the blast caught her full on the side of her body. Diana's head cocked over to one side and her face distorted. Both arms flailed wildly as she was blown back into one of the walls. The impact cracked the wood slats and dust puffed out like a set of bellows. That should have killed her; it would have killed anyone lesser. But in that instant of impact, I got lucky. She hit so hard that it jarred a small square green cube from the pouch hanging at her side straight back in my direction.
"NO!" she moaned.
I reached down and picked it up. The second Crystal Key. I would have given a lot to know how she hid it from my scans. I wanted to stay and pelt her with disruptor blasts and rockets, but the explosions outside were getting dangerously close. No sense in getting greedy and doing something stupid, like getting killed or worse. An explosion rocked the house and I hit the switch for boot rockets. Time to leave. I blasted up through the existing hole made on my entry and was screaming skyward a heartbeat later.
I reached over my shoulder and stuffed the key into the emergency pack, sealed it, and glanced back at the house. I could see a Projector Bolt heading for what was left of the roof, and a split second after the strike, the structure was gone.
I kept rising until the screens in my helmet said twenty thousand feet and then started to angle in the direction of the River Styx.
That was when movement caught my eye. Two men were running fast toward the oncoming group headed by the Dark Lord. Walter zoomed in on the two, and I didn't need to be told who they were. One was red and the other was running faster than any human ever has. Hence, it was Sergei and Drayden. I had no idea what they thought they were doing, but I also knew they wouldn't slow down. A small dot in the sky receding in the distance would then have to be Volansa, their ride to get to the festivities. I found it difficult to believe Queen Mother would have approved of the two of them here on the Provinces. Especially carried here on one of her dragons. Which means . . . yup, a female on a huge Black Wyvern suddenly dropped down out of the clouds right above where Walter and I were hovering. Queen Mother and Basiliskos shot down in front of us like a lumbering mountain of scales and death. It didn't take rocket science to know she was madder than a wet hen, and on a fast track to the ground approximately where the two demons were running. I'm not sure who represented the larger threat, the Dark Lord or Queen Mother, but I for one wasn't going to miss this for the world. Don't get me wrong, I don't want her in harm's way, but once she latches on to an idea it's difficult to dissuade her from the path.
Queen Mother, astride her Black Wyvern Basiliskos, landed directly in front of Drayden and Sergei. The dragon’s feet had hardly touched the ground when naked and angry, Queen Mother ran over to the two demons and, although I couldn't hear what was being said, it was obvious it tended toward the incensed side of her demeanor. Both of them stood quietly but kept glancing over to the approaching horde. Occasionally Projector Bolts would crater into the ground around them, but Queen Mother seemed not to notice.
I'd had enough of the Projector Station, so I launched a rocket into it as I made my way to the ground. The Station had been manned by three of the Hordes Class Fours but had two others that would drag it forward every few minutes. All of them disappeared when the Station became part of the landscape. The Dark Lord turned and looked, after the explosion pushed a sonic wave forward to where he was standing. He shook his head and looked disgusted.
I landed to the left of Queen Mother, and as I stood, she made one of those both hands in the air moves that says, why are you here? I don't need your help. So, I pointed to the approaching soldiers and then gave her a two-handed move that said, Bad guys, duh!
I saw the same look on her face that I had just seen on her father’s after I had blown up his Projector Station. I just wasn't pleasing anybody today. If all the fiasco so far hadn't stacked up a high enough pile of crap, what happened next did. Abercrombie and his diminutive private army began running toward the Horde with their usual intent, somebody's going to die, and it won't be them. The look on Queen Mother’s face was a genuine Kodak moment, and it matched the look again on her father’s.
The Horde stopped. No one yelled, well except Queen Mother, and nobody waved their weapons . . . they just stared at the silently approaching army that hadn't been there a moment before. They stared at Queen Mother who was hollering at her errant demons, and they stared at me staring at her.
The closest demon to us raised his handheld Projector and fired at me. It almost looked like an afterthought; a nonchalant gesture done half heartedly. It also bounced off my armor, ineffectual at best. He acted embarrassed by the event, and it made me laugh.
That was when The Dark Lord lifted a hand, palm forward in the direction of the approaching Abercrombie. My friend pulled up short, glanced over at Queen Mother, and then barked an unintelligible command which stopped everyone else. Even our Queen stopped yelling and gazed around at the suddenly passive array of combatants.
The Dark Lord held up an index finger like he had an idea and began walking over to our Queen. He paused next to one of his troops that had a burning torch, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it on the flame as the soldier leaned the handle down. I don't think they sell those over here, and the package looked strangely familiar. Satisfied that it was lit properly, he once again headed for the Queen. Everyone collectively held their breath but made no hostile move toward him. He slowed and took up a “hands on the hips” stance that reeked of superiority before he spoke.
"Ari, here's what I think we ought to do. You give me the Key and I'll let you and all your little friends live. That also includes the Thaumaturgist too, of course."
Little friends? That was definitely not the right thing to say to an angry, naked lady with an army at her back.
Not too many people get to meet this arrogant turd, and of the ones who do, even less live to tell anyone about it.
He stands about six feet tall, dark brown hair, and piercing green eyes. He doesn't look old enough to be anybody's Father let alone The Ariella’s, unless she was an infant perhaps, and that reminds me. This is Ari's Dad, and I don't think she's cool with him calling her that. When he speaks it's like invisible velvet, and you find yourself believing whatever he says.
From the look on Queen Mother's face, I'd say she's not susceptible to his charms like the rest of us. Most of his verbal abilities are thankfully being filtered out by the transducers on my suit. That's interesting to know too. I don't see how this could possibly work out well. Queen Mother was so angry that we could see her vibrating, and there seemed to be a glow around her, barely visible, but there none the less.
"Right now, Daddy . . . I'm actually angrier with some of my little friends than I am with you, and I didn't think that was possible. As far as you letting us live, that's a joke. You're outnumbered, out gunned, and if you don't turn around and slink back home you might not live long enough to brag about it."
The Dark Lord considered, changed posture, and considered some more, finally deciding how to go about talking her into relenting. It was written in neon-colored runes all over him, and not in a good way.
"Ari . . . be reasonable. You can't win here, and I forbid you to act this way."
Now there's some superlative parenting skills if I ever saw them. This conceited jerk was trying to bully her into giving him the key.
I'm not sure what I would've done next, but Basiliskos took the selection process out of my hands. He attacked the Dark Lord. Man, that's a lot of dragon, and the Dark Lord stumbled backwards tripping over his own feet. A burst of flame engulfed him, and for a few seconds it was impossible to see anything but the bonfire where he had stood.
Sergei and Drayden were moving, and that in itself was worth the price of submission. It didn't seem possible for anything to move that fast. When they reached the first of the soldiers, Sergei began his circular moves, the dance of death which he was dispensing to any who got too close. Drayden was like a whirlwind, almost transparent or like a piece of film with most of the frames missing. In a matter of moments, almost all of the soldiers were dead, and the rest were in full retreat. Only the Dark Lord was left, and he was sticking out of Basiliskos' mouth.
Queen Mother rushed over to stand in front of the Black Dragon.
"Bazzie, NO!"
With some degree of reluctance, the Black Dragon spit the Dark Lord out onto the ground. With some force too, I might add. The Lord pulled himself up onto all fours, crouching on the ground and slowly raised up to his knees.
"All right, all right . . . you can keep your precious key for all I care. We've found all your agents here on the Provinces and executed them. You won't be receiving any more reports on the whereabouts of these stupid pieces of crystal. There's still one key left and that's all I need. Leave, before I change my mind."
I kept thinking, don't react, don't react. I wasn't sure if The Ariella would hold her tongue or regret her initial decision and go for the kill. Can you even kill this guy? Basiliskos hosed him down with fire and then was munching on him, and he lived through that. As an afterthought, her White Dragon landed directly behind the Dark Lord and smoke began trailing out of his nostrils. No one heard Invectum coming, and he landed so hard you could feel the ground shake. Wow, what an entrance!
It must have been the straw that broke the Dark Lord's back. He waved us off and stumbled to his feet. Without so much as a word, he limped off in the direction they originally came from. Good riddance to bad company. Walter activated my boot rockets and we shot up, putting distance between me and a very pissed off Queen. I'll have to face the music later, but it will give her time to cool off. I will admit that if it had been my parent, I would have let Basiliskos eat him. I can't help but wonder if we just made a mistake by letting him live.
Walter turned the radio back on, and the number of previous incoming calls was astounding. I'm not crazy about answering to anyone until after the fact, and this is the reason why. I was busy, and quite frankly, the onboard transceiver system isn't a cell phone. No Facebook, and we don't Tweet. I had Walter send a standard message to everyone who tried to contact me. It said . . . Crystal Key secured, Diana, daughter of darkness, possible casualty. Full report when I get home.
As I finally approached the river, the two wayward Machinists in training came into view. They were both standing on the Ferry Dock talking with Cheron. Just from their posture, it was evident they were being humble. Thank God for small favors. I wasn't worried so much about Greg because he's naturally a humble person. Matthew, on the other hand, was more of a loose cannon, and was prone to outbursts of self centeredness that were inevitably misunderstood by most. At least that's how I interpreted them. I have also observed previously, the change in his language when in certain situations. His recovery is quick, however, and then in the ensuing sentences he inserts as many” Dudes,” as he possibly can.
I told them to get airborne and saluted Cheron as I passed. We needed to get back to the mountain as soon as possible before something stupid happened, and I personally didn't want to be the one to explain anything like that to Queen Mother. Both of them shot up into the sky and angled toward home. Walter sent Greg and Matthew coordinates re-confirming the Northern Terrace as our landing site, you know just in case. I mean we are talking about Matthew back there.
The two picked up speed when they saw I wasn't going to slow down. We were almost home, and nothing was trying to kill us at the moment. I was in a hurry to keep it that way.
Ordinarily, I would have let the two youngsters land first, but today was not the usual day. I wanted to unload the key, but there was also the second item. Apparently, a puzzle box, but how did we know what was in it? I doubt it would go boom, but you can't be too careful when you're dealing with the Royal Family. They're not nice people and they don't fight fair. They're bad guys, and bad blood runs in their blood. So the "D" marked sealed container will be ferreted away and placed in a lead lined box until Queen Mother understands what's in it. The key will be tested too, if for no other reason than to verify its authenticity. How embarrassing would that be to find out it's just a very good fake?
Greg and Matthew stood over to one side and watched as the Mt. Drago version of a bomb squad harnessed the sealed container by stuffing it into the big lead box. It would then be transferred to a cavern where even if it went boom, there would be no loss of life.
As I have said before, there is no technology on the Provinces. There are no explosive substances, and no electricity, and there hasn't been since the areas surrounding Hell were first established. The Provinces are a prison, albeit not altogether successful at keeping the prisoners from escaping from time to time.
To this day the inhabitants still make fire the old fashion way, two sticks and a butt load of work. They have learned that the River Styx is the best way to keep the fires burning because it makes most of the known substances there burn slow.
The point to this rant is the unlikely possibility of anyone on the other side of the river producing a compound that would explode, and if they did it couldn't do much in a package as small as the sealed "D" box. Now having said that, it is possible for them to use an existing disease. More than once has a plague ravaged the Provinces before being stopped. The Royal Family has used some of those diseases to their advantage, oh yes, but to the best of my knowledge has never actually created one.
The box appears to be made out of a low-grade iron and if I had to guess, well let's just say it's probably a little rich girl’s jewelry box. It might even have a rudimentary clockwork interior. Perhaps Diana was about to go and put the Crystal Key inside the heavy little box. It looks like it might fit, assuming you knew how to open it, that is. The box does prove that with enough time and effort, an amazing amount of ingenuity can be achieved with little or no real materials with which to work.
They have had sufficient time to develop a battery of weapons that can do more damage than I'd like to admit. Their field Projector Stations are proof of their level of genius when they put their minds to the task at hand.
There aren't that many trees on the Provinces, but somehow the inhabitants have managed to build an unbelievable number of weapons based on timber. Seems there used to be vast forests across the seven Provinces that were ultimately destroyed during their many wars. Some enterprising individual figured out the destruction stopped at ground level, and the root system of most was actually bigger below ground than the trees had been above.
Neither Greg nor Matthew lowered their helmets, let alone took their suits down, so I can only assume they believed the sealed box to be at the very least, toxic.
The big lead lined box was carefully placed onto one of Nata's floating sleds and slowly taken in the direction of Commons. That means a dragon pulling it across several miles of ramps winding inexorably down, until the main part of Drago is reached. No easy feat.
Once the cargo was safely on the ramps and moving away, Greg and Matthew appeared behind me. They wanted to know if they could take the rest of the day off. I couldn't help it once you start laughing after a crisis; it's really hard to stop. The two of them eventually took my laughter as a yes, and conveniently disappeared.
I needed to see Demi, and she touched my mind long enough to tell me she was in the Nursery with Bubo. Yay! Let's hear it for normal. The only things Bubo thinks about at his age are eating, sleeping, playing, and pooping, all of which strike me as heartwarming and sedate. Those are the things that mean the most to a man like me after experiencing what I did in the last few hours. Our enemies would take all that away from us, but I can tell you for a fact, it won't be today.
Since I was already in the suit and had been for hours, and since the Nursery was so far away from where I presently stood, it seemed a good idea to close the helmet and jump over the side of the ramp. I felt the boot rockets fire and made my way to the Green Grotto.
The techs up in the Castle were gearing up for a battery of tests to be performed on the second Crystal Key, and in a few hours, we would know if it was time to celebrate our latest victory. Maybe that would help Queen Mother in the face of so much disobedience. Mine included.