Chapter 28: Another Monday Morning

I missed Cindy’s breath in my ear. I can understand why she is reluctant to make this a habit. No desire to be a distraction in my ear. No desire to feel the things I am feeling when I am with other people. If it takes a hundred years to grow a body that will support her, what will her mind be at that time?

Why am I having these thoughts. Did something really happen to me when I was in that pool with Carrie that first time? Or was it before then? What makes my mind run this way?

Careful there, Hank. If you look too long into the abyss, it looks back. Everyone you know says you are the amazing sane person. Accept that.

UGH. Coffee first. Then food. Then live Life.

The desk in Delores’s office can wait. Time to eat.

I was a lazy dog at breakfast. It was almost ten o’clock before I got to Natalie’s office after seeing the note on the desk. “Come to see me”.

After knocking and hearing “Come in” I looked inside and saw Natalie sitting at her desk, on the phone and looking at me with a glare that was almost hostile.

“What did I do now?”

“The county wants to know what we intend to do with the property. If we are going to develop it, they want to have a hearing on the environmental impact. If we are going to just use it for the Sanctuary, they want us to be responsible for the clean-up to comply with any EPA issues.” She said with exasperation in her voice.

“And the current owners?”

“It was abandoned after the former owners died. Basically, it’s just an open pit with no drainage.”

“So, how much to conventionally fill it and restore it to its natural state?” I asked.

“To buy it, outright, probably three hundred thousand. Restoration? Know any good Earth mages?” Paula asked.

“Basically, fill in the pit and give water someplace to go.” I said.

“And then just have it listed as a real estate asset?” Natalie said with a smile.

“Right.” I said.

“And in the meantime, we have income sheltered and we are doing a public service.” Natalie said. “I like it.”

“Now. Are you comfortable to talk with me about any repercussions from yesterday?”

“Hank, there isn’t much to talk with you about. Paula, Jeffery, Jerry and I were up almost all night talking about a lot of things. Especially Abigail Anders and her breeding program. The boys were talking about that for a long time. The whole “Slave Mindset” thing bothered Jerry more than the Magic. And he cannot believe that there isn’t a good legal structure to go after Abigail. Except he can see why that would get in the way of our lives and cause a lot of unnecessary stress. Justice has costs on the victims in America.”

“Does he know about some of the assaults we have suffered, and what we did to eliminate the attackers?” I asked.

“He thinks that the law has let us down. That we should not have to do what we did. He thinks that the blind lady with the scales is real. I know better. With respect to Magic and the Fae, we are outside of the human condition. What was it, the Ninety-nine percent rule?”

“Ninety-nine percent of all conflicts fall within the reach and scope of the law.” I said. “And outside of that, you must make up your own justice for the other one percent. So, we are the Hell’s Angles one percenters.”

“It’s a little unsettling for a prosecutor to see himself with those limitations. But I think he will be Ok. Besides, who would he tell about this weekend? And would they lock him up?” Natalie said with a grin. “Now, about moving me. You are repainting my apartment?”

“Yes. Pick some colors, I’ll have Riska and his crew do a move for you. And then make sure your Birth Control is working.” I said as I ran for the door.

I stopped and looked at Natalie, and saw her face was bright red. It’s good to be irreverent sometimes.

Culture Shocks at work

Every business that has people working an office has a water cooler. Or Coffee machine island. It’s usually next to the refrigerator that everyone puts their lunch in. and people always gather around that for gossip, and stories and discussions. Like today’s headline on USA Today where they were talking about the crimes committed by illegal aliens.

“Illegal aliens preying on taxpaying citizens. And the prey fighting back, and the newspaper wants to comment on “Where is the Law?”. One of the prosecutors said.

“Look. Laws are written for the norm. People who consider themselves citizens and taxpayers expect protection. If there is no protection needed, why is the law involved? If the citizens clean up their own mess and no damage is to the public or its property, we don’t need to be involved.”

“So you are saying that citizens who pay taxes should be the ones protected if they need it, and if they don’t, leave them alone.”

“Exactly. And those who don’t’ need protection should not be bothered”

“Kind of a hard line, boss.” I said. Barging into the conversation.

“Jerry, listen. If you want to tilt at windmills, go ahead. Like this B.S. from DC. Wanting to beat a dead case to see if it has some life. The fact is that taxpayers expect a return on the money they send in taxes. Money spent on them. Laws are to protect the taxpayers. If there’s no complaints, and no obvious violations of persons or property, leave them alone.”

“Is that your official policy, Greg?”

“It is while I am here in Augusta. Now how are you going on that case I dumped on you last week.”

“Drug transport to Atlanta from Savannah is still coming up through here. DEA is looking for any new leads, and we are following up on the container that was used in the last shipment. No luck on either source or destination.”

Unlike Lambert and associates. Who had paper and real bills of lading everywhere we looked. The source and destinations all matched up. We didn’t pay attention to the Transport in the middle. Natalie had that buried very well. I guess that means “No Harm, no Foul.”

New intelligence from an old friend

I had been busting my buns this week, doing the gold flour harvesting and powering artifacts. Doing a lot of rune studies as well. The spells that did the “Ownership” exercises were absolute gold. The biggest challenge was trying to keep up with Paula and Jeffery. I doubt I will ever be the artist that they were. Then again, I did have the power thing. Despite the runes and artifacts and the other accessories that our Fae friends and my budding Power mages used, I was able to channel more power and shields naked then any two of them (Including the Dragon) combined. That affinity I had was the real deal. But doing things with it kept me busy all week. Until I got an Emergency message Thursday morning from an old friend. Emily LaFontaine.

Emily was a not a starving artist. Her studio was the smallest office, located furthest form the front door, next to the warehouse and the furnishings store. It was open by appointment only. We handled billing for her to the tune of ten million dollars so far this year. We kept thirty percent. Taxes took fifteen. She got the rest. And food and drinks for her were free at the Lounge.

She was a true seer. Saw a lot of things that were on the horizon, often in detail, and she told Natalie about them. This added a significant piece of business intelligence to any of our planning on investments and prospecting. Add to that the fact that she looked almost like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz, only not green, and she was impressive. And everyone took her forecasts as biblical prophecies. And she needed to talk to Peter and me. We caught up with her late Thursday night.

“Hank, this artifact is a godsend. I have not had an attack of malaise since I got it from you, and I have had several sightings that would have put me abed for days. I can only thank you again for it.”

“Emily, you are truly blessed and if I can do anything to ease your pains, I will do it. Is the stone large enough? I know you get it charged whenever you go to the bar, and I insist that you have long paid for anything you want from Hank Lambert Ltd. But why is this call for us?”

“Hank, I have had a premonition. One that was as bad and as vivid as the one from New York. And it is in the Arch Park. I see invaders coming.”

“You don’t happen to have a day and time, do you?” Peter asked. Peter had been in New York, seen the attempted invasion and me stopping it. He also had seen the painting in my living room wall. It was imbued with Emily’s magic, and you clearly saw me, the Dwarf, and the Ogre trying to get into NYC. It was impressive. Emily seldom made public announcements. When she did, we all paid attention.

“I see them coming from between the Azalea trees. The large pink ones. I remember them because they bloomed in early summer and were so very beautiful.”

Peter immediately straightened up. “Hank, we found sign of last group coming in through there. I think that was the route they took the last time. There were signs of a camp in the woods just outside of the Thorn brushes. Emily, can you project the memory to a stone for us to work with?”

“Sure. You have one?”

Peter smiled. I laughed. Emily blushed. And we moved that memory to a stone Peter carried so we could relive her vision and plan for a reply. And the date we saw was Halloween. Early in the morning before everyone was going to go into costume to do Trick or Treat. While a cool mist was along the field next to the Azaleas. And it was six days away.

Trick or Treat, Nagy. Trick or Treat. And we have time to prepare a welcoming party for you.

Preparation Pains.

So. How do you circulate information of a possible invasion among a population that is always at peace? First off, you must remember that we are Clan Lambert. And my arguments with Jeffery, Peter, and everyone else had to be stated repeatedly, and loudly, and with great emphasis several times. This was an invasion aimed at Clan Lambert. It was Clan intelligence, and we had to depend on the people within to help us to defend against those who attacked us from without. Signature members were always able to know all information. We were going to have two kinds of information. “Sensitive” which meant for Clan membership only. “Non-Sensitive” information which was for everyone else. I didn’t intend to have the various compartments that the government had because it usually showed the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing. Which worked for Government. But not for me. RACI. Responsible, Accountable, Consulted, Informed. Sensitive was RAC. Informed got everything else.

Friday morning, everyone who was a signatory got a look at the crystal. Everyone who was a signatory got an opportunity to contribute to defense planning. Everyone had an opinion. Even me.

Riska, Jeffery, Paula and Peter all formulated an overall plan, and we took it to each of the membership to read and review. Including our newest member of the Clan. Even if he was confined to the field. And we got feedback. Good Feedback. Which triggered some new ideas within our plans. In the end, we were able to assemble people, places, fire control, and communications. We knew they were coming. Where and when. We had our Midway.

Reconnaissance intelligence

“Nagy, the trail goes into the woods from the road. We found the campsite near the thorn bushes. There is a small trail that goes in from there, a game trail almost. Not easily detected but it’s clear. I went as far as the edge of the field through the barriers and past an arch that the Cossacks left that went under the shield. Evgney did a scouting and there is a force dome that goes all over the area. It has avoidance geas and diversion geas just outside of the force dome so unless you are deliberately focused on getting into the area, you would not bother.”

“So, could you sense energy from within?”

“Yes. Enormous energy. I think this is where they moved. Once you are inside of the shield, the geas disappears, and you can see some sort of building near the center of the field. I saw elves, and dwarves and even a few gnomes there, crowding around the structure in the center.”

“No sign of our scouts?” Nagy said.

“Nothing. Some visible traces of foot traffic around the perimeter of the area, but I don’t know where they went. There is an arch at the end of a path that leads to the structure, but I don’t know where it goes.”

“But no sign of the Cossacks, either.” Nagy said.

“Nagy, they were experienced veterans. No collection of fae is going to take them down without leaving a lot of torn up grass and trees. We don’t know where they went, but we do know this time we take enough force to cause them to have to come to us.”

“Ok. We work on teamwork and strike on October 30. Their “Halloween”. We will get them by surprise and our clothes won’t disturb anyone who accidently sees us.”

“You are coming?”

“Absolutely. I want to see this child’s face when Real Mages come calling.”

Talking with a Dragon

“Hello, Aine, how are you today?” I asked when approaching his pavilion. It was a late Friday afternoon, and I had not had a chance to talk with Aine alone. When he first settled here, we looked about for some sort of mattress or carpet. We got Yana Marenko to build a carpet that was large enough to cover the entire inside base of his Pavilion. And strong enough to resist Dragon claws. We also got him a Sharpening post to work with. Dragons are like cats in that respect. Keeping the claws to a reasonable length improves their balance.

“I am well. And I am thinking about the plans for defense. Are we certain that Emily has the details right?”

“She has been right far more often then wrong. And it does not cause any major issue to be prepared. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I will say that it’s a good idea to have some advance warning. Sensing the edge of the forest from here will be a great deal easier to detect and isolate location.” Aine said

“That’s what I wanted to talk with you about. Should we do some run throughs of Human interaction around the edge and see how well you track them?”

“Practice? I thought you would never ask, Hank. Who is the guinea pig?”

“I was thinking of using several. Both known and new to you. And to have them group and separate themselves to see if we can detect the different placements.”

“Hank, do you understand what my relationship with this place is? Aine asked me.

“Not totally. Would you mind telling me?” I asked.

“It’s like with your own emergence. When this chest piece was placed in me, the energy of it reached into my soul. It also reached out to the creek and the fumeral. Which reacted to me, and which is permeated through the entire property. We became linked. And you calling me a Groundskeeper attached me to it, and it to me. In some feelings we are one and the same.”

“And the runes in your chest protector did that?” I asked.

“Yes. It feeds me, it comforts me, and it wakes me when someone approaches. And even more of the land cries out to me. What is the story on the pit behind us?”

“Natalie is working on the purchase. We are going to raise the earth to fill in the pit and make it a sanctuary for birds and other animals. There may even be room for more Fae.”

“Hank, the earth hears you. Like an earth mage, but different. Have you ever listened?”

“Aine, I have been so very busy that I have not learned to listen, I guess. Can you help me?”

Aine sketched the runes that he thought were the opening of his channel so I could look at them and assimilate them. And I had to suddenly sit down. TMI. Too Much Information. The sensations overwhelmed me. I could see everything that was in the surround of the Fumeral. I sensed Auger, mixing his drinks for preparation for the day. I felt him and his movement. I felt a squirrel at the edge of the property. I felt a quail bird running across the field. Everything was there and here and right now. I heard the gentle hum, almost subsonic, of the fumeral and the water in the creek. I felt the sunlight on the grass. I felt it all.

“Hank. Hank are you all right?” Jeffery’s voice was in my ear. He had walked from the pavilion to see me. And I was so involved that I didn’t hear him. But I knew he was here and coming. I just disregarded it.

“I’m fine, Jeffery. I was just getting to know my land. Like my Groundskeeper.” I said in reply. “And he showed me how I can really get to know it. It’s pretty awesome. I think we have another magic ace in the hole.”

Aine and I spread the large sheet of the map of the park across the floor. We had ordinates and coordinates down to a single meter square across the entire acreage. I could look at the map and see in my mind where each and every person was. The Dwarves playing with Frisbees and the dragonets flying after them. I could see the motion and see the image of the creatures flying there. I could almost touch them. Somehow, the park passed the scent of each and every creature and its location to me. I was the field.

“Aine, this is amazing. I feel like I have the eyes of God looking down on here.” I said.

“In this small area, beneath and around the dome, you are a god, looking down. See that squirrel over next to the path that leads out of the woods? And the deer sitting and lying next to the Arch to 1030?”

“This is incredible. You actually have total visibility here.”

“Hank, there is more. Watch this”.

Aine shared with me the image of a scarecrow set up near the entrance of the field. And he then breathed dragon fire toward the shield beyond it, which reflected the energy back onto the head of the scarecrow. The head that burst into flame. But just the head.

“If they project their shields to the front, they may have no protection behind.” Aine said. “I used this trick long ago in Germany, with a stone arch as the reflector. I have been playing with this since last night. Jeffery says that this indirect fire is one of the most dangerous weapons we can have. And since no one outside of Clan Lambert knows of your trick to have incoming force energy transformed into support for the shields, If I hit them with multiple hits, or have them being hit by multiple sources, their shields will quickly fall. And then we have to bring catsup.” Aine said with a smile.

“Or dip the remains in Salsa.” I said in reply.

Have you ever seen a dragon look shocked? And then amused.

He and I spent the next of the early evening looking at and bouncing energy and dragon flames off the inside of the dome and down onto targets. It was a total blast. For us.

That evening at 1030 I reached out to Jeffery and asked him about any other ideas we had for our new “Welcome Wagon”.

“The indirect fire trick loses some effect in the ricochet. But it makes a good addition to our inventory. I wonder what kind of area denial devices we can place as well.”

“Magic Landmines?”

“Exactly. If we know where they are coming from, we can channel their movement into areas we want them to be in. And then trip them up with something.”

“Jeffery, do you recall when Peter had the bracelets and collar projected around Karudorich’s neck in the foyer?”

“When Peter took him prisoner. Yea, he talks about that enough. Especially when he has two drinks or more. Braggart.”

“How much trouble and effort would it take to set a few dozen of these around the funnel of the route of engagement we have from the Vision?”

“We need to be able to project them. That takes an energized being. We would have to move a couple of Gargoyles to do the collar management. And the range would be limited to how far they could fly when triggered.”

“What if we put them on a artifact, or added an artifact to them to give them additional range? Then all we need is to do the trigger and provide co-ordinates.”

“Shit. Remote controlled and directional landmines with capture bracelets. Magic Claymores. Hank, remind me that If I am ever tasked to go after you to pass it on to someone else. You are almost a sick MOFO.”

“That is Ok. What I was thinking of is this. If we can capture one or two of these alive, and French fry the rest, we can have a proof to give back to the Over Council. And maybe be able to force them to do some something to prevent the next engagement. Or to let us know where the next attack is coming from”

“Probably a lost hope. But as Natalie has proven, getting intelligence from these guys is not all that difficult. Getting the Europeans to act on it may be impossible.”

“In any event, look into what we need to do to set a few of these capture collars as land mines.” I said.

Trick. And a Treat.

It was before real dawn, when the world is that funny coloration called “The Golden Hour”. Lasts for about that long. The cool mists were beginning to rise from the earth and obscure the grass. The grey overtones would soon settle into brilliant colors of fall and green of the fields and the grey of the forest that surrounded the fields. The brief chills that gently flowed across the fields with waving the were few and created occasional waves in the tall grass. The scene was idyllic.

And then they came in.

“Master Hank, I sense thirteen of them. One is the person Nagy. The others are mages or half breed of humans and elves. All of them have minor artifacts. The earth tells me that they are shielded against fire and normal magic. The travel in groups of three, with one group being four.” Aine said to me.

“Shit. This kind of intelligence scares me. Hank, the military would kill to have ground sensing intelligence like this” Jeffery said.

“Hank do you sense the first group, breaking right? They are skirting twenty yards and then shifting toward us here ... That puts them almost in front of the position Brimstone and Pae’le have taken up. They are within the discharge distance of the first of the collar mines.”

“Let them come closer, the three elves that Riska placed there should act first to see if they can get them in a kill zone.” I said.

“Second group emerging and breaking left. Taking up twenty yards then pivoting and moving forward. I think they intend to converge on the Pavilion. Hank, they are coming straight at us on a deflected course. Both of them.” Aine said.” They think to have to come to the Pavilion from three different directions and that will give them superiority.”

“Are Brynstan, Par’ma and Paula ready for them?” I asked. I had lost the argument with Paula to stay behind. She countered that 1, she had more experience in frying mages, 2, her husband would be out there and she needed to cover his flank and 3, unless I ordered her to stay behind, she would be there. And she MIGHT not obey the order if she could find a way around it.

I was not going to take that chance.

“The group with Paula, the Gargoyle and my niece are to the right of the second group. They are on the flank, and undetected. I now sense four forming and coming up in the middle. Three in front and one slightly behind. The one behind in Nagy.” Aine said.

“I know. And do you want to know what is scary? I can feel this myself.” I said. “Thank you, Aine. For teaching me so much about my own home.”

“I sense there are three more, but they are staying just inside of the opening.” Aine said.

“You are right. They’re acting as a rear guard.”

“So we follow the plan.” I said to my three companions

“We follow the plan.” Everyone repeated.

There had been some discussion about how and when to commence action. Did we want to give a formal warning or a challenge to the invaders? Did we want to simply ambush them and pick up their pieces? Or some combination of both. And when did we introduce the simple fact that we had four gargoyles, two dragonets, a dragon, six elven warriors, six dwarven warriors (in full armor and pissed at this transgression) and over three thousand ergs of energy charged to respond to them. We would be slandered if we slaughtered them before warning them. But they were the ones who came charging into OUR home. Not my fault that they had the same situation that George Armstrong Custer had.

Just then, as they were approaching, one of my clansmen goblins walked through the gate to bring breakfast to the pavilion. The invaders froze for a moment and then all of them fired a volley of energy toward him. If he had not been shielded, he would have died from ten different energy bolts fired at the same time. And it was a simple issue of him not realizing that the people out here were ready to repel invaders. He was simply bringing food and coffee from the Lounge to the pavilion to feed and nurture the guests he had been told would be there. But no one told him it was a combat zone. I hadn’t explained what was going on, and he simply wanted to serve us. Big mistake on my part.

That action tripped the Dragonet’s and the Gargoyles. The gargoyles froze the opposition, and the Dragonets fried them. (Paula never even got a shot. Brynstan beat her to it)

Pao’le and Pao’ma (who were with me in the Pavilion) triggered the collar mines which threw themselves at Nagy. The three fae/mages in front of him repelled the mines sent toward them, but not the follow up from energy blast from Aine, who reduced them to ash in about ten seconds.

I slammed the gateway shut behind the three rear guard mages. Two of them were standing in the doorway when it closed and so were cut in half.

Time of conflict? Under thirty seconds. Casualties? One of my Clan, a gnome who was shocked, but ok. He wore a military amulet, as was everyone ordered to do whenever going to the Playground. Rugby is a rough sport, and his energy shields deflected the energy sent toward him from across the field.

For the invaders, we had: Georg Nagy, collared and dropped to the earth. And one stunned and petrified mage, trapped against the door and facing two Dragonets, two Gargoyles, six Elves in armor and no way out. He pissed himself. And cried for mercy. We kept him. We needed a witness as to who shot first.

End result. First step, secure the two prisoners. Second step, salvage heads and hands from the remains (if possible) and bag them to send back to Europe with our regards. Third step, feel out through the tunnel in the forest to see if there were any others. Last, take the trash out of the fields and back to 1030 for disposal. And of course, we had to tell everyone at 1030 that this situation was resolved. Which set up a round of drinks at the Lounge. “It’s after five o’clock somewhere. Europe, I think” was Ogernauts’ excuse. All in all, not a bad morning. Better then many we have had. Thank you, Emily. Thank you again.

After the Action

”Hank, there is a line between Vengeance and Justice.” Peter said. “And you want to think about what side of that line you want to be on for the rest of your life. Plugging this guy into any kind of crystal and having him live in the dark along with Karudorich is probably satisfying in the short run, but what does it say about you in the long run?” Peter asked.

“That you get a long term in perpetual hell if you hurt those I care about. That satisfies me.” I said

“I can see that. What he did to your folks and the girls is ugly. But he didn’t put Cindy in the crystal. Karudorich did.”

“But Nagy was the main guy. He was the one who selected the targets and the the people. If this was a combat force, you would say the operators were following orders, the enablers were serving the operators. But the Administrators are the guys who own what the decisions are.”

“Damn, Kid. I keep forgetting you have a fifty-year-old mind in a teen-age body.” Peter said with exasperation. “Ok. Let’s spin this around. If we put him in a crystal, where are we going to park him? Are we going to do more than once and flush? What sort of ongoing maintenance are we doing? And worse yet, three hundred years down the road, what if someone finds a way to un-can this SOB? I say justice needs be, but Vengeance is not always the best solution.”

I had to admit, that the risks of escape or someone else unearthing him did strike a cord. After all, I did unearth the thirty-nine. And it would be hubris to think I was the only smart one out here.

”Hank, I know you want vengeance, but Jeffery and I agree that there is no substitute for honest intelligence of the enemy and his allies. Knowing who else is out, who has sided with Nagy in the past, and who feels they would be best served by following his lead is the best way to prepare against this sort of thing in the future.” Peter said.

“So you want to just neuter him and throw him in the street?” I said.

“Not at all. What I propose is to strip all his memories. Strip away all his ability to perform any magic. Then populate documents with those memories and use that as a reference. Do a mind rip like the American Council has used already for far lesser offenses. We were going to do that to Abigail initially, remember?”

“So, we strip the memories, remove his ability to do magic, and then what?”

“How about we “parole” him to his buddy, Jacque, along with a copy of all his memories in the form of a written bill of complaint. Sort of a “Why we did this”. We give Jacque a drooling idiot, and twelve bags of heads and hands and one sobbing whining mage who was scared shitless when he saw what we did to the invasion. That should make an impact.” Natalie said. “We could do that at the next council meeting.”