Armageddon?? (64 page)

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Authors: Stuart Slade

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“Roger,
wilco. For your information, its not just gunpowder they Russkies have got back
there. Any sight of Dis?”

“Ahead
of us now. High stone walls, as far as the eye can see which isn’t far in this
clag. Looks like an old medieval castle, not the Hollywood version, the real
thing. Like they have in Wales. We’re going to try and break some glass now.”

Mackay
dipped his aircraft and headed for the walls of Dis. The terrain following
radar was working perfectly as he skimmed the wall, barely a hundred feet over
the crenellations. Inside was a town that looked something straight out the
middle ages, a tight mass of buildings separated by narrow alley-like streets.
There were baldricks down there, ones that looked up in stunned shock at the
monsters that had suddenly crossed the wall and were screaming defiance at all
around them as they passed low over the roofs. The demons stood and watched
long after the Pigs had gone, awed by the sight and realizing that things were
never going to be the same in Hell again.

Unconscious
of having caused a spiritual crisis in Dis, Koala Flight arced over the great
pit that formed the center of Hell. Mackay looked at the sight below, a
supercaldera that would be a vulcanologists dream but represented all of
humanities worst nightmares. His thumb itched to pick a target and release his
bombs on to it but his orders were strict, fire on ground targets only in
self-defense or to protect the reconnaissance aircraft. Still, he could think
of the humanity that had to be suffering in the nightmarish scene below and he
could promise to come back with every pound of ordnance his faithful Pig could
carry. “You got all that Koala-Three?”

“Affirmative.”
Koala-Three’s voice was subdued.

“Lets
get out of here then.” The four F-111s made a gentle turn, trying to cover as
much of Hell as possible. Mackay hoped that, down below, the souls trapped
there would see them, some would know what they were and they would spread the
word. Humanity was coming with every weapon it could muster and what stood now
would not be allowed to stand again.

Banks
of the River Styx, Fifth Circle of Hell

“My
leader wants to talk, very urgently. Anywhere you wish. It is most important.”
Rahab spoke earnestly, Gaius Julius Caesar had been most explicit with his
instructions. These humans, living and dead, were what he had spent two
millennia waiting for. A way to fight back against the monsters that ran this
place.

“Important
for him? Or us?”

“For
us both I think. He….” Rahab stopped speaking her voice drowned out by a
terrible screaming howl.

Lieutenant
(deceased) Jade Kim recognized the sky-ripping sound instantly, the sound of
jet fighter engines. Even as she looked up, four F-111s emerged from the
overcast, their wings stretched out and loaded with bombs, lazily making a turn
over Hell. Then, they were gone, on their way back home, just leaving their
sound behind. Around her, the living and deceased members of the PFLH were
jumping up and down, cheering and smacking each other on the back. Rahab looked
at them in amazement.

“What
is that terrible noise?”

Kim
looked at her, her eyes dancing with joy. “That isn’t noise Rahab. That’s the
sound of Freedom.”

High
Peak Youth Hostel, Peak District, British Isles

As
Lakheenahuknaasi emerged from the portal the first thing that hit her was the
overpowering scent of a great deal of blood spilled in a confined space. The
second thing was that this part of earth was unpleasantly cold. She found
herself in a rather small room packed with demon infantry, whose cloven hooves
continued to crunch the smashed remains of wooden furniture. This chamber and
the others she could see leading off from it were littered with human corpses,
most of them obviously torn apart by demon claws. She stepped lightly around
them for now and addressed the squad leader.

“I
see that you have not so much secured the area as painted it with human blood.
Did they give you any trouble?”

“Very
little.” The demon seemed unsure whether he should treat the gorgon was his
superior or inferior. “One of them managed to grab a fire-spear and wounded one
of my warriors before perishing.”

Lakheenahuknaasi's
gaze followed his gesture. The injured demon was sitting on a broken table, in
a white room that reeked of stewed vegetables. His left flank looked like a
piece of wood riddled by termites, oozing green blood from numerous tiny holes.
As she watched the demon yanked the heart out of a human corpse and stuffed it
into his mouth. The dead man still held a fire spear in his hands; a chunk of
carved wood with two short black metal rods sticking out of it.

“If
you require nothing further?” Some of the demons had slung human corpses over
their shoulders, undoubtedly as rations for their victory feast.

“Go.
But take that fire spear with you. Baron Trajakrithoth may want to examine its
enchantments.”

The
demon warriors squeezed back through the portal, which promptly closed up
behind them, leaving Lakheenahuknaasi alone in the human building. It seemed to
be some sort of inn. with a central common area, what was presumably a kitchen
(though she could see no cooking fire), indoor latrines (which appeared to have
just been emptied) and several rooms full of (mostly smashed) bunks. It could
have been a barracks but for the lack of weapons. A large triangular window
showed a sunset obscured by clouds, painting the landscape of rolling grassy
hills and forested valleys in a mix of oranges and grays. Here and there beams
of golden light broke through and highlighted an outcropping or a stream. It
almost looked welcoming save for the sparse flakes of snow melting on the
window.

Lakheenahuknaasi
could see no other buildings, but if this was an inn travelers could arrive at
any moment. She made her way down the stairs, taking care not to slip on the
blood still dripping from step to step. The door barring the main entrance was
broken and warped; the triple indentations and the dead human woman seemingly
still trying to grasp its handle bore witness to a last desperate attempt to
escape. Stepping over the body, the gorgon yanked the protesting door open and
slipped out onto the moors.

Sure
enough, half an hour later Tom Sullivan crested the last ridge and sighted the
hostel. “Ah, there it is dear.”

Trailing
behind him, his fiancée Jennifer was not in the best of moods. “You said we'd
be there two hours ago. This is the last time I let you plan the route.” She
paused, out of breath. ”I'm never voting Labor again. If Gordon hadn't
commandeered all the planes we could be in Italy right now. Tony was so much
nicer.” Tom shook his head. He was beginning to have second thoughts about this
relationship.

The
couple made their way down the track to the building. What they saw there left
both retching for a good five minutes. As soon as he'd regained his senses,
Thomas reached for his mobile. He'd entered the number of the national demon
sighting hotline just before they set off, almost as a joke, never expecting
horror like this to come to sleepy Yorkshire. Five minutes later the first
police units were dispatched to set up a perimeter and ten minutes after that
the first territorial army trucks began to roll out of Worsley Barracks.

Lakheenahuknaasi
had long since found a convenient cliff and launched herself into the air.
There seemed to be no convenient thermals in this freezing place and she was
forced to hook her arm spurs into her wings and flap strenuously for altitude.
She became acutely conscious of how conspicuous her metallic bronze scales made
her after the first time she flew through a shaft of sunlight and lit up like a
disco ball.

Lakheenahuknaasi
muttered a satanic curse and wished she'd had the foresight to cover herself in
mud. She would've endured the mocking of the other gorgons if she'd known how
much safer it would make her feel now. She considered trying to gain the
relative safety of the clouds, but her wing and arm muscles were already tiring
and she didn't want to risk accidentally over-flying the target. Instead she
flew low, weaving through the valleys and trying to stay in the lengthening
shadows. Though she did not know it, the decision saved her life; air defense
control at RAF Boulmer began enforcing a no-fly zone over the area shortly
after she descended to an area its radar could not cover. The inclement weather
had kept most walkers at home and left the rest disinclined to watch the skies.

The
gorgon flew an erratic course through the twisting valleys for the better part
of an hour, with only her perception of the planet's strong magnetic field
keeping her heading towards the target. Even using that was hard due to the
sheer density of psychic emanations in this part of earth. Clearly the humans
had not only learned the art of telepathy, they were using it to constantly
gossip with each other. As she flew she saw several isolated farms and the
occasional village visible in the distance. Not enough to concern her, but
hardly the 'uninhabited wilderness' Baron Guruktarqor had described. Most
puzzling were the lights that speed along the black strips, some constant
yellow, some flickering white and blue. They could have been chariots bearing
torches, but for their impossible speed and brightness, matching or even
outpacing her own aerial progress.

Finally,
as her wing and arm muscles were ready to give up she crested a hill and saw a
great city laid out before her. It was lit so brightly that at first it seemed
to Lakheenahuknaasi that the city was already aflame. On closer inspection
however it was clear that she was seeing thousands of torches, strung on poles,
shining out of windows and attached to moving carriages. This vast sprawling
metropolis had to be the target. She could not see the smoke or fires of the
forges yet, but that could wait. The immediate priority was avoiding detection
while the portal was summoned. Lakheenahuknaasi glided down to a copse near the
top of the hill, keeping the trees between herself and the city as much as
possible. Once down she crawled into the undergrowth and crouched shivering
under her wings. This world of humans was cold, unbearably cold.

The
humans should be thanking me she thought, a nice lava lake is just what this
place needs to warm it up a bit.' The gorgon began reaching out with her mind,
straining to push through the barrier and contact her superiors. Immediately
she was hit by the overwhelming babble of human telepaths. Most of the
mind-speech was not speech at all, merely indecipherable gibberish. Some of it
was comprehensible though. Curiously the humans seemed to have found a way to
enchant their musical instruments to transmit their notes into the ether.
Lakheenahuknaasi shook her head at the thought of wasting energy on such
frivolous magery. Another particularly powerful human mage seemed to be
chanting the words 'Hallam Eff Em' several times a minute, accompanied by
jangling chimes. She spent a moment pondering the significance of this ritual
before deciding that it must be just another symptom of human insanity.

Pushing
the human transmissions aside, she broke through the barrier to contact
Euryale. The force of greater demon's mind was almost overwhelming. 'This is
Lakheenahuknaasi,' she reported 'the human city lies before me. I am ready to
guide the portal.” Euryale's response was swift. “I am approaching
Jorkastrequar now. Keep the link open and focus your thoughts on the city. They
know it not, but a wave of fire is about to carry those pitiful beings straight
into our domain.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Forty Six

Outer
Ring, Seventh Circle of Hell  Aeanas continued working with the file; he was
nearly through. He'd been worrying it back and forth for some time now, and at
last, the left prong of the trident was free. It clattered to the dirt floor of
the cave where the right prong lay, leaving only the center on the weapon.
Aeanas stood and hefted the weapon. It was heavy, like the doru to which he was
accustomed, and the balance seemed correct on it now. It would make a passable
weapon.

The
warrior called Ori watched him silently. Like Aeanas, he didn't speak very
much, and for this he enjoyed the man's company. He was grateful and loyal to
McElroy and the others, but they prattled on like children! Perhaps Aeanas
didn't want to like his new companions. Sure, they were soldiers, and they
found some common ground in that, but everything about them was alien and
heterodox. As a Spartan, he'd spent his entire life turning his body into a
weapon; turning the doru, the xiphon, and the aspis into extensions of his
body. Just by holding a weapon, his muscles knew how best to move it so that he
might destroy his enemies. There was nothing else to his life but killing his
enemies.

But
these soldiers from the future--no, from the present--were different. They knew
how to read. They spoke of music and art, and of other forms of entertainment
that he could not understand. For their purported superiority to other
soldiers(after all, they managed to escape where he hadn't), the fact remained:
their martial prowess was not their only consideration! In that way, Aeanas
thought them similar to the citizen-soldiers of the other Greek cities. Though,
he mused, there was courage in that kind of man. He recalled those Thespians,
those brave men who refused to abandon the Spartans at Thermopylae. The night
before they all died, Aeanas recalled sharing a meal with a Thespian named
Polyphanes, who was by trade an architect. And the morning before the final
battle, he and Polyphanes traded cloaks, and was proud to have died with that
man's cloak upon his shoulders.

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