Ragnarock (8 page)
Everyone settled into their seats, and Talon was sure that Boom and Hammer were pleased to be traveling first class. The seats were large enough to accommodate even Boom's broad, bulky frame—a pleasant change, since public transportation wasn't always designed with larger or smaller metahumans in mind. The flight attendants advised the passengers on the suborbital's safety features, including a warning to Awakened passengers not to use magic during the flight, since it was prohibited by international aviation regulations. Then they proceeded to serve beverages and bland packages of snack foods as the spaceplane prepared for takeoff.
In short order, they were underway. Talon watched on the side viewscreen as the ground dropped away sharply, the Boston sprawl shrinking to become a toy model as the vast blue expanse of the Atlantic stretched before them. When the spaceplane achieved sufficient altitude, the pilot kicked in the SCRAMjets, and Talon recalled just what "steep" and "fast" meant.
The public address system beeped, and the captain's voice filled the cabin. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached our cruising altitude of 23,000 meters, proceeding at 29,000 kilometers per hour. At present speed we should reach our destination in the German Alliance at approximately 14:15, local time. Have a pleasant flight."
Talon called up the chronometer function of his headware, and the time appeared in cool blue numbers on the edge of his field of vision: 07:04:12. He sent a mental command to the chronometer to adjust to the European time zone, which changed the hour to 13:04:15. That left a flight time of just over an hour from Boston to Germany. Not bad.
Settling back into his seat, Talon turned to Trouble. "Do you have the datafiles on Germany?" he asked. "I'll check them over on the way."
"You could have read them last night, like everyone else." Trouble said with a smile. She took a datachip from one of the pockets in her briefcase and handed it to him. Talon slipped it into the slot next to the display screen on the back of the chair in front of him, then pulled out a length of cable from under the dataport and snapped one end into the jack behind his ear. Full hypertext data unfolded in front of him, allowing Talon to review the files Trouble had compiled on the German Alliance and the Rhine-Ruhr Megaplex. Talon had never been to Germany before, and it paid to be prepared. He downloaded the basic German language files into his headware memory, as the program recommended, then began scanning through the history files. As he expected, they were very complete.
The German Alliance was formed in 2045, out of the dozen or so nation-states left over from the breakup of the
A military junta briefly seized control of the German government, before the first wave of Virally Induced Toxic Allergy Syndrome swept across Europe. The government clamped down on the riots that followed, and millions of people died from the deadly disease. It was followed closely by the coming of the Awakening in late 2011, when the power of magic returned to the world. Creatures out of myth and legend appeared in the wilderness and in desolate areas of the cities. Changeling children were born to human parents, the births initially blamed on the toxic contamination of soil and water. Most importantly, some individuals began to display "paranormal" abilities, the ability to use magic.
These events helped accelerate the decay of German society. The government, echoing an earlier era, was forced to build a wall around the city of Berlin and the surrounding area to contain the violence and increasing terrorist attacks on the nation's capitol. Eventually, the government was forced to abandon
In 2031, the Russians attacked Europe, desperate for the resources necessary to shore up their failing economy. The EuroWars lasted for years, with the various German states managing to unite to fight off the Russian army, with aid from their few European allies. Eventually, the conflict drew in most of the nations of Europe, until the Russian advance was broken in 2033.
The EuroWars were the culmination of all the disasters Germany had suffered over the past three decades. The nation fragmented into numerous small nation-states, each with its own interests and agenda. Some of these states were dominated by new races of metahumans who emerged during the Awakening; elves in the Duchy of Pomorya, trolls in the Kingdom of the Black Forest.
One of the driving forces of the reunification was Saeder-Krupp, the world's largest megacorporation, which grew from an alliance of powerful corporations in the early twenty-first century. Saeder-Krupp's headquarters was in the Northrhine-Ruhr region of Germany, in the city-sprawl of Essen. Saeder-Krupp was run by Lofwyr, the great dragon who first appeared shortly after the Awakening to stake a claim to power in Europe. Through a series of brilliant stock manipulations, aided by an astounding store of gold and silver, the dragon leveraged a buyout of several major European corporations, bringing them together to form the Saeder-Krupp corporate empire.
One of the corporation's stated goals was the restoration of a shattered Europe, particularly Germany. Aided by Saeder-Krupp's economic clout, the German states managed to pull together and form the Allianz Deutscher Lander, the Alliance of German States, to replace the old Federal Republic of Germany. Since then, the Alliance remained reasonably stable and devoted to Lofwyr's goal of European Restoration.
Of course, there were those who didn't agree with the goal of rebuilding Europe according to the designs of politicians, corporations, and the dragon who dominated them. Europe—Germany, in particular—was rife with policlubs that opposed the Restoration and supported a policy of Europa Dividus, which called for maintaining the independence and individual cultures of the various European nationstates. Many groups even opposed the German Alliance, preferring the independent anarchy of its member states. Some of the policlubs used terrorism to make their point, including Alt Welt, the "Old World." That was the policlub to which the man seen talking with Dr. Goronay was believed to belong. The data Trouble dug up on Alt Welt was a good seven years out of date. They were believed to be defunct, or nearly so, but apparently they weren't.
The Rhine-Ruhr Megaplex, home to the world headquarters of Saeder-Krupp, was a microcosm of Germany itself: a collection of independent cities, fused together by mutual need and circumstance. Home to some 25 million people, centering around the cities of Cologne, Diisseldorf, Dortmund, and Essen, the home of the massive Saeder-Krupp arcology. The megaplex dwarfed the sprawling metroplexes of North America, unless you subscribed to the theory that the entire east coast of the UCAS, from DeeCee to Boston, was really nothing more than a single city-sprawl, broken up into neighborhoods. Even the vast Seattle sprawl was tiny by comparison to the Rhine-Ruhr, having slightly more than a tenth its population. Finding one man in a giant city of 25 million wasn't going to be easy. Talon realized that
Brackhaus was definitely going to get his money's
worth.
The captain's voice caught Talon's attention as he finished going through his spiel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are about fifteen minutes from our destination at Dusseldorf's
The view across the Baltic Sea was breathtaking from the balcony of Duke Jaromar's private residence in Konigssthul, but Speren had no time to truly appreciate its beauty. He was on a mission for his Prince, and his duty took precedence over all other considerations. Still, the view was a pleasant one, and made the waiting he was forced to endure more bearable.
He'd made his way to Pomoryan, the small duchy in the northernmost reaches of the German Alliance, solely to speak with Jaromar. Although carefully neutral in political matters, the elven-controlled Duchy of Pomoryan had been known to trade favors with the Princes of Tir Tairngire in the past. Of course, they also forged political alliances with Tír na nÓg, Tir Tairngire's political rival across the Atlantic, in the nearby British Isles. Tír na nÓg was considerably closer to Pomoryan, but to date, the tiny Duchy had not attracted too much attention from either elven power, which seemed to be the duke's preference.
"Herr Silverblade, my apologies for keeping you waiting." came a voice from behind Speren. He turned to see the duke himself standing in the open doorway onto the balcony. Duke Jaromar Grief was tall, like most elves, with a thin, almost emaciated form. His dark hair was neatly combed back from a high forehead that spoke of intellect, and his small beard was neatly trimmed. He was dressed in clothing nearly as archaic as Speren's own: a deep blue frock coat over a blue waistcoat stamped with gold leaf designs. Foamy lace showed at his collar and cuffs. He wore tight-fitting pants tucked into polished black riding boots, which were spattered with mud. From that, and the riding crop he held in his hands, Speren concluded that the duke had been out on a morning ride.
Jaromar touched the fingers of his left hand to his chest and bowed slightly by way of greeting. Speren copied the gesture, bowing a bit deeper, as was fitting when greeting someone of the duke's stature. Jaromar was not as powerful as the Princes of Speren's homeland, but he was still the ruler of his own kingdom, and that made him worthy of respect.
"Please, Your Grace," Speren replied, "it is I who apologize for intruding on your household. However, I have come about a matter of some urgency."
"I am always pleased to assist my noble cousins of the
The manor of Konigssthul was nowhere near as splendid as the
Jaromar led Speren into a dining room dominated by a long hardwood table, easily capable of seating two dozen. Crystal chandeliers hung from the plastered ceiling, and one wall was dominated by a tall tapestry hanging from a brass rod; on it was woven a rampant griffin in gold on a field of deepest blue. The curtains were drawn back from the high windows at the far end of the room, filling the chamber with light. Speren could already see that the table was set for two, with crisp white linens, fine china, and silverware.
A human servant wearing the duke's livery appeared with a bootjack to help remove Jaromar's muddied riding boots, exchanging them for a pair of soft house slippers. Speren had already surrendered his sword upon entering the manor. He now yielded up his cloak to the servant, who disappeared through one of the many doors surrounding the room as the duke settled himself at the head of the table and gestured toward the chair at his right.
"Please, join me." he said, and Speren sat down. Another servant brought covered platters and trays of food to the table and began serving as the duke
leaned back in his chair and regarded Speren.
"So, then, what brings you to my humble home, Herr Silverblade?"
"You may call me Speren, Your Grace."
"Very well, and you may call me Jaromar. We are all brothers here, after all." The duke dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand. "Do try the sausages." he said. "My cook prepares them specially."
Speren looked down at his plate. The slices of sausage, poached eggs covered in creamy sauce, and roasted potatoes were hardly the sort of food he was used to at home. He found it a wonder that Jaromar maintained his emaciated physique if this was his regular fare. Speren took up knife and fork and began neatly cutting up the food while he talked.