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Authors: William R. Forstchen

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BOOK: The Crystal Sorcerers
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"If we abandon all our outposts, Gorgon will have won a great victory. Dozens of pathways would have to be shut down and guarded, and we would be totally on the defensive. He chose the location well: a main outpost that in turn has portals to most of our other worlds."

Jartan nodded towards the display. Suddenly a filigree of gold threads knitted the various worlds together. The greatest bundle came up from the surface of Haven, with a half dozen or more lines going straight to the world under attack. Yet from that planet, thirty or more lines arced out further, striking nearly every other world in the display.

"Take
Yuvin,
and he can push his way through to everything else. Eventually he would find some unguarded point and reach us here."

"That is why we must meet him there." So saying, Jartan seemed almost to reach out and cup the world in his hands.

"Once defeated, we must pursue him, through dimension after dimension if necessary, shutting down his portals, sealing him back into the hell which he came from. Perhaps then he will leave us alone."

"Let's just kill the bastard," Macha growled.

"A tall wish indeed," Jartan replied, "and a task which even I might find to be a challenge."

"How do we know it
is
Gorgon?" Cinta, one of Jartan's court sorcerers, asked. "What evidence do we have?"

As the sorcerer spoke, Mark glanced at Ikawa. The Japanese officer had met Cinta in combat for the possession of Leti's
Crystal of the Sun, and had barely defeated him. The slightest of contemptuous smiles crossed Ikawa's features, and he gave a merry wink to Mark.

"I was getting to that," Jartan replied.

There was no reproach in the god's voice, but the sorcerer cringed slightly.

"There are a number of reports regarding actions here on Haven. Allic, would you please begin."

The lord of Landra stood and strode to the open end of the horseshoe.

Bowing to his father, he began, describing the incident at Sarnak's portal and mentioning as well the threat both to Mark and himself.

As Allic spoke, Mark fixed his gaze straight ahead, closing his mind to keep the memory away. Several in the group turned back to look at him with open concern. Fortunately Storm kept her eyes straight ahead as well, an action which Mark was grateful for, else he would seem her protected and worried-over lover, not a powerful sorcerer in his own right. He did notice, though, the sharp look from Macha--an almost smiling gaze that seemed to say it served him right.

Allic then went back into events covering a period long before the arrival of the outlanders: Dealings with Sarnak and vague comments from that direction which might have new meaning in light of the discovered portal. He ended with the review of evidence discovered only recently of a small village in the mountains that had been hit hard, with all inhabitants either slain or kidnapped. They had been attacked by demons, but not demons of Haven from all appearances.

After Allic, Storm spoke, and then Leti, relating events on the outpost worlds they had patrolled in the last several years. Macha followed, speaking as a representative of the god Minar.

For there had been several unexplained occurrences in his distant realm as well.

"So that is the past record of evidence," Jartan finally declared. "Now to the recent events:"

"Word came via a messenger ten days ago that an outpost had detected a disturbance indicating that a portal of some significance had been opened."

"I sent a messenger to bring me a standard report. He did not return."

"Three days later I sent out a triad, led by one of my best sorcerers, Suda Codi."

There was a murmur in the room. Mark remembered the woman from his first visit to the city. She was a vivacious character, full of life, and with a reputation as a voracious lover--an experience he had never sampled, though
Walker had strutted about for days with a grin of delight after an alleged meeting.

"There was no report from them as well. Finally I sent three more. One came back and died within minutes of his arrival."

Mark could see
Walker leaning forward anxiously.

"Four of the six outposts had been overwhelmed and destroyed. A vast and impenetrable energy field had been erected about the fifth and sixth, through which nothing could pass. The fifth outpost was already in flames and aswarm with demons."

"The messenger told me that he had personally recognized one of the leaders of the attack. It was Jujatag, third demon lord of Gorgon's realm."

An angry stir swept the hall.

"And Suda Codi?"
Walker asked nervously, coming to his feet.

"I'm sorry, but there is nothing to report on her."

Walker
sat back down, his countenance grim. Sergeant Saito leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder, while Shigeru, the wrestler and staunch follower of
Walker's, growled darkly at his friend's pain.

"This, therefore, is the plan," Jartan continued. "I will send another recon team in."

"But two have been annihilated already," Storm interjected. "What hope will a third have unless it is a significant part of our strength? If that's the case, then we should send everything in an all-out sweep."

"We still aren't sure of what we face. It could be a mere strike by one of the minor demonlords either as harassment or as an outright bid. If that is the case, then several of our demigods can handle it. If it is Gorgon, I want to know before we go in."

"And if it is Gorgon?" Storm asked.

"Then we must strip our defenses dangerously thin. I myself shall go, leaving my realm in the hands of the gods
Chosen, and Minar. Macha will act as liaison to Minar through this crisis."

There were nervous mutterings in the room. Jartan's leaving would leave his realm underprotected in case of attack from another quarter. Though he was not yet sure of all the implications of power, Mark nevertheless grasped the fact that if Jartan had been away when Tor and Sarnak had struck, the end result of the last war might have gone differently.

"To go myself if there is merely a diversion would leave us vulnerable here. To send my sons, daughters, and sorcerers without my support could result in a disaster if Gorgon himself has passed through. We must know more first."

"That is why I have gathered all of you together: to be ready at an instant's notice. I am now declaring a full state of emergency. Know that my security teams have already gone to operational status."

"I know this might be rough on some of you, being called in without any explanation to your families. I'm sorry for that, but the situation demands it. All of you will be required to stay within the confines of my palace, and I have made every effort to see to each of your needs."

He paused for a moment, the pulsing glow of his form now tinged with blue.

"Though I loathe
to say
this, I must. Any attempt to communicate with anyone outside of this palace or to leave the grounds shall be punished severely. I know we are all comrades here, but the wiles of Gorgon are legend. If you detect the slightest oddity in behavior, even of your closest friend, I regret to say you must report it immediately. I would rather have my security people track down a thousand false leads, than to discover too late that one of you revealed what has been said here this morning."

The room was silent, with many sorcerers looking nervously at each other.

"We understand each other. All of you are dismissed; clear this room at once. If we mobilize, you must be ready with full fighting gear in a quarter turning's time."

"I want Allic, Storm, Leti, Macha, and the offworlders to stay here."

"Uh-oh," Goldberg exhaled softly, "I think we've drawn the shit detail."

Mark looked over at his old flight engineer and smiled. He hadn't seen Goldberg since after the battle of Landra. Once he'd recovered from his wounds, Goldberg had been sent out on an embassy and reparations team to help settle the costs of damages and injuries during the brief war between Macha and Allic.

Mark came up to Goldberg's side and shook his hand with obvious delight.

"I think you're right," Mark said quietly as they walked through the stream of sorcerers leaving the room. "How was the assignment?"

"Great," Goldberg grinned. "Macha sure can throw one mean party when he sets a mind to it. I was living better than Errol Flynn and Gary Grant rolled up in one. I'll tell you about Macha's granddaughter when I've got the time--in fact I might even be an in-law before long."

Mark grinned in return. He'd always had a special fondness for Goldberg.

"But let me tell you something, boss," Goldberg went on, "Whenever your name comes up around Macha, boy does his blood boil. He heard a couple of his guys cracking a joke about what you did to him. Why, he tore off his crystals and fought both of them bare-knuckled, not a lick of magic or crystals in the fight--and beat them to a pulp."

Mark looked over at Macha, who was moving up to the half circle within the horseshoe.

"What a fight! It was better than Louis and Dempsey--and I was at that fight. Macha could put Joe Louis on his back and out for the count with a single punch."

"Great, glad to hear it," Mark replied dryly.

"But what the hell," Goldberg continued, "from the sound of things I've got a gut feeling we're in the barrel again and no mistake.
So why worry about him? Anyhow, let's go hear the bad news."

Falling silent, they joined the rest of the group.

 

Jartan drifted over to the table, and his pulsing image dropped to almost human height.

"This I wanted to share only with you alone," he said quietly. "There has been some concern about security here. In fact, some of this is a test. The information I gave out was important, to be sure, but if Gorgon should hear of it, it will not be devastating. This part of the briefing, however, could only be shared with the team that will have to take direct part in it."

The offworlders looked at each other nervously and Goldberg nodded at the correctness of his prediction.

"Kochanski, would you step forward please."

Feeling a little shy, Kochanski came up to stand by Jartan's side.

"Your friend has mastered some rather unique skills in the time he has spent with me. He can tell you about the Godchair later and what he has learned and can do. He is the best I have seen with it in many a century. Though I am loath to send him into peril, there is no other way."

The note of concern in Jartan's voice was obvious to everyone. Kochanski looked over at Jartan with open affection.

"I am sending Kochanski and Leti in as a team using the Godchair. Kochanski will guide it; Leti will reconnoiter, and if need be, defend against any assault. First I want confirmation of Gorgon's whereabouts. Beyond that I need to know the size of his forces and what we shall need for an effective counterstrike."

"Though it was not revealed during the briefing, I have a secret outpost on the moon orbiting the world under attack."

As he spoke, the planet drifted before him. A green light appeared on the surface of the icy moon.

"I am sending the rest of you in under Allic's command as a support team for Kochanski and Leti in case of trouble. You are to establish your base there in secret, and then the two of them will venture down to where the attacks are taking place. Macha, you will stay here as a direct liaison to your father. Storm, you will serve as a liaison from the team to me. Position yourself in the hills beyond their outpost in case they are suddenly cut off."

Kochanski stood before the group, proud of the trust placed in him, yet obviously nervous as well.

"My tactical officers will brief you on the details. There are other issues I must attend to now. Good luck to all of you."

Without waiting for a response, Jartan simply disappeared.

"The shit's gonna hit the fan," Goldberg whispered.

Chapter 6

"Allic will be leading what is believed to be a reinforced reconnaisance team out before daylight tomorrow. Jartan has brought his people to the highest state of readiness; his sorcerers and allies are standing by to leave within a quarter turning's notice. Jartan further stated that they will either be facing Gorgon or his lieutenants."

"Are you sure this report is accurate?" Patrice inquired sharply.

"Yes, my lady," the sorcerer said evenly, her eyes lowered. "The proper security combination code was included."

"Excellent! Have the team pick up Imada and meet me here."

She dismissed the messenger and walked back into her private suite.

Drawing close to the raised dais in the center of the room, she paused a moment to admire her creation.

Ulinda no longer existed. She had indeed become Vena in body and soul. The innocent-looking girl was still in the magically induced slumber that was required for the final mental implanting. After awaking, and until such time as the proper code words were spoken to her, she would appear to the world as a twenty-year-old girl, daughter of a dead border guard. Once the hidden Ulinda had been activated, she would already have passed through the rigid security checks, and from there the slipping into Jartan's crystal vault would not be too difficult, especially when the majority of his forces had been diverted elsewhere.

Patrice felt a ripple of pride. Not many others could work such a transformation, both inwardly and outwardly. And there were not many who could have conceived of a plan so simple and yet so cunningly elaborate. Even that fool Gorgon was playing his part and could be controlled.

A gentle sigh escaped Vena, as if she was lost in a pleasant dream.

Almost lovingly, Patrice brushed the hair out of her eyes. She had been drawn to the real Vena. There was a combative defiance to the girl that she had found all too appealing. The draining away of her memory and spirit had been in many ways a painful task. She had been glad in the end to slip the poison into the girl's drink and end the ordeal.

She leaned over, brushing her lips against Vena, and lingered for a moment. The girl sighed, a smile lighting her features. Patrice felt a rising temptation to continue, but finally drew away.

A moment later there was a knock on the door: the four sorcerers who would escort Patrice's spy. One of them carried Imada, who was still in a drugged sleep. She felt a slight wave of revulsion at the sight of the outlander dressed in Allic's livery.

"Pick up the girl," she commanded. "It's time to move." Then she waved the team of sorcerers into her private bedroom balcony.

"Send the security team up," Patrice whispered into her communications crystal.

A moment later she saw a dozen shadows rise from a lower battlement and spiral upward through the darkness.

"All clear," a voice whispered back.

"Let's go then," Patrice commanded.

Four sorcerers, two to each sleeping burden, lifted into the sky, with Patrice in the middle.

Once clear of the city, they would follow her plan, which had been rehearsed half a dozen times. The party would skim low over the hills and mountains as they skirted what had once been Sarnak's realm, and reach their destination--the charred remains of Vena's village--before dawn.

Once there, Patrice would lift the sleeping spell and withdraw before the two woke up. She would have a long day of hiding in the hills, to avoid the chance of being spotted. Strict communications silence would have to be maintained throughout the day, but once darkness settled again she could return home.

The plan was now begun. She felt a swelling of confidence for what would be an almost inevitable victory.

* * *

Kochanski was waiting when Allic and the others came out of Jartan's briefing room. The moment the Americans saw him there was a round of good-natured greetings and back slaps.

"Must be tough to be permanently stationed here in the lap of luxury," teased Goldberg.

"Hell, Kochanski. Who was it who gave that assistant of Colonel Guest's back in
China a hard time for being such an asskisser?" added
Walker.

Kochanski's face started to flush and Mark interrupted smoothly, "In case you clowns don't remember, it was Kochanski who discovered the existence of Sarnak's tunnels and saved our collective butts."

Walker
winked at Mark and continued, "Sure, Captain. But what's he done since then except lay around here, chase women, and pull soft duty?"

There was a roar of laughter which even Kochanski joined.

"Damn, I missed you guys," Kochanski choked. "How about we go get a drink?"

Then all eyes were on Sara as she entered the room, earning an appreciative whistle from
Walker.

Sara gave the others a casual nod, but all her attention was on Kochanski.

Eyes filling with tears, she burst out, "Jartan won't let me go with you. I've told him that I was the best one to mindmesh with you during the recon, but he says I'm too young and he's going to give the job to Leti."

Kochanski was horrified at the mere thought of Sara going into danger. Thank heavens Jartan felt the same way. He looked at her appreciatively. There was only a six-year age difference between them, but that was a hell of a gulf when it was the difference between seventeen and twenty-three. Still, in another year or two... He pushed the thought aside. In another day or two he might not even be alive, let alone a year or so. Their eyes held for a second, and then he resumed his gruff attitude towards her.

"Good. Because no way would I risk your life like that."

At this Sara burst into tears. "Kochanski, what if I never see you again?"

He patted her shoulder clumsily.

"Hell, don't worry about me. Didn't you once say that the gods seem to protect the
ignorant,
or something like that?"

Tears still flowed over her cheeks, but Sara regained her composure somewhat.

"Jartan had agreed to let me have part of my dowry early. And I am giving this to you." Handing Kochanski the large portal crystal they had been working with, she continued, "This crystal is already attuned to both our Essences, and I have lowered the detection ratio to as small as possible. Wearing this, you should be almost impossible to be found and...
and
..."

Breaking into tears again, she gave Kochanski a hug that damn near broke some ribs,
then
ran from the hall.

Kochanski stared after her a moment, glanced down at the crystal in his hand, shook his head, and turned around.

Facing him was a sea of broad grins. His face immediately turned bright scarlet, and the grins widened even more.

"I'm going to beat the shit out of the first one of you filthy minded idiots that says something," he grated.

"Hell, Kochanski, none of us here would dream of saying a word.
Would we, guys?" responded
Walker.

The overdone chorus of
Noooooos
frustrated him even more.

 

The old druid had never relaxed his vigilance. He who had opposed Caius Julius Caesar for so many years was aware of the almost superhuman competence of the man. When the druid had talked the various nations of Gaul into supporting Vercingetorix's revolt against
Rome, he had assured them of Caesar's defeat. That Caesar had won after being outnumbered by over ten to one was beyond belief.

With the price that Caesar had put on his head, he had fled to the western isle to try and stir up support for their Celtic brothers in
Gaul.

While there he had heard reports that Caesar was preparing an army and an invasion fleet to folow him.

It was while performing a ritual at the ancient, sacred temple of the old ones called
Stonehenge that he had been transported here.

The old sorcerer who had brought him to Haven had been delighted at his catch, since he had been merely fishing, as he called it, in his exploration of the various universes.

They had taught each other much over the years, and the druid had quickly become a master sorcerer. When his friend eventually died, the
druid used his talents, knowledge, and love
to create a realm of forest and water. Within a few years he had built the kind of enchanted kingdom that was his version of the Blessed Isle.

But, always aware of Caesar's undying enmity, he had suspected that Caesar would petition the very gods themselves to follow him. Apparently the bastard had finally found him.

Calling in his descendants and the tribes of his nation, he informed them that Caesar had come at last. War was coming, and all those who were prepared as spies and informers knew their assignments. The moment any strangers arrived on the Isle, he was to be informed.

"I believe they will not come openly as assassins, so do not be taken in by any stories they might tell. All know what a deathtrap our forests are to those who fly above, so look for them to infiltrate by land."

"I have promised that they shall die the sacred wicker death, so great care must be taken to capture them alive. Their blackened skulls will serve as a token of the greatness of the true faith!"

And the assembled nation rose to cheer their Messiah.

 

"All right, let's take this from the top of the list."

Jen Valenta, Jartan's master armorer, stood before the reconnaisance team. Though a sorcerer of less than fifty years of age, she had a remarkable skill with weapons and phenomena!
memory
for detail, combined with a beautiful physique, wavy dark hair, catlike eyes, and a stunning ivory complexion.

"Let's start with defensive crystals." So saying, she lifted her left hand.

The group followed suit and snapped their shields up to full intensity. A half dozen of Jen's assistants walked down the double line of offworlders. One fired a quick shot at Kraut's shield, intently studying the flash of light and its dissipation.

Motioning for Kraut to shut his shielding off, he reached into a pouch and quickly replaced Kraut's gem. Stepping back he motioned for him to power up again. There was another shot, the assistant nodded with satisfaction, then continued down the line.

"Next, offensive crystals."

One by one, the group stepped up to a firing line to one side of the vast armaments hall and fired off a rapid series of shots, ending with Allic and Leti disintegrating the stone target which the offworlders had merely chipped.

"Now check that your communications crystals are properly linked."

One by one the group patched into Allic, who had stepped to the far end of the room while Jen watched intently.

"All your primary weapons check out satisfactory. Next, check that your emergency backup crystals, offensive, defensive, and communication, are securely hidden and tied."

Ikawa bent over, and slipped his hand inside his right boot. Pressed up against either side of his Achilles tendon he felt the small learner pouches which held the precious reserves.

"Your medical emergency kit, locator beacon crystal, emergency rations, and survival blanket should all be secured to your backpack harness. Please check your combat partner."

Ikawa turned to Mark, who gave him a grim smile.

"It's almost like the old days, just before a raid," Mark said, as Ikawa opened the backpack and checked to make sure all items were in place and secured. Mark in turn reviewed Ikawa's equipment.

"Team leaders and section leaders should have destination maps secured to their belts. All members should have escape rendezvous maps, wrapped around an acid vial. If you fear capture, be sure to strike the vial. Remember the vial will also shatter if
your
shielding goes down and you are hit by an energy bolt."

Ikawa reached into the pouch about his waist, drew out and checked the small leather bundles, and gently resecured it.

"Finally, all of you have a poison pellet attached to a left upper molar."

Nervously, Ikawa let his tongue run against the projection.

"I know it must make all of you nervous to have it there. Believe me, it is
secure
--no amount of chewing, or any type of normal mouth movement, will disturb it."

"If you're wrong, lady, I'm coming back and filing a complaint,"
Walker retorted, but his humor fell flat, so tense was the group at the prospect of what was ahead.

Jen smiled at
Walker's bravado. "To activate the pellet you must stick a finger into your mouth and scratch it as hard as you can with your fingernail. Two seconds after you do that, a highly potent poison gas will be released. If an enemy is close by, you can take him with you by simply exhaling. The poison is quick and painless. Ten seconds after you activate it, you will be gone."

The group looked nervously at each other.

"This is not normal procedure. Quarter is usually given and sorcerer prisoners accorded some rights, since guild laws are so strong, and not even a demigod would want a guild to blacklist him. But believe
me,
you do not want to be taken alive by the demon lords."

BOOK: The Crystal Sorcerers
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