THE VROL TRILOGY (158 page)

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Authors: SK Benton

Tags: #vampire, #magic, #violence, #lycan, #immortality, #alien invaders, #werewolf adult fantasy

BOOK: THE VROL TRILOGY
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"Yeah, well, I think I'll have a Fernet and
Coke when we get back to Azul. Speaking of that, are we ready to go
once G finishes his breakfast?"

"I'm almost done, little sister."

"Mami, I am so sorry for ingesting Tío's hot
sauce. I feel much better now."

"That’s okay, sweetie. Now you know not to
put strange things on your food."

Liliana nodded her head enthusiastically and
took her seat next to her uncle, watching as some servants cleaned
up her mess, covering their mouths and noses as they did so.

"Sorry!" she yelped, sincerely feeling
regret. She had come to have more respect for the castle servants,
especially as she was fortunate enough to have been adopted by Max
and Jennie. If not for them, servitude would have most probably
been her career path within the confines of the Rhönen
Dominion.

"Jennie, just so you know, I have created a
barrier around the moat and the feeding cages that will prohibit
young Liliana from getting anywhere near the sharks. You may go to
your world in peace," Draagh kindly informed his
granddaughter-in-law.

"Thanks, Pops. That's a real relief. I get so
worried. I mean, if she's trying to chug hot sauce who knows what
else she'd be willing to try?"

Max entered the dining hall, mate gourd in
hand and dressed in his standard blue camouflage naval field
uniform, now sporting quadruple gold stripes on his shoulder,
denoting his new rank of Captain.

"Ooh, baby! Don't you look official now?"
Jennie cooed.

"It's just one more stripe, Love. No big
deal," he responded as he sat down next to her. "Hey Lili! Good
morning!"

"Good morning, Papi. I tried Tío's hot sauce
on my potatoes."

"Oh, really? And did you like it?"

"No. I blew chunks."

The young lycan's colloquial response nearly
caused Max to snort yerba mate out through his nose, but he
maintained his composure, wanting to appear compassionate.

"Hmm, well, that happened to me the first
time I tried some too. I wouldn't worry too much about it. Anyway,
I believe you classes, am I not correct?"

"Yes, Papi. Are you and Mami and Tío and Tía
going to Azul today?"

"We are, sweetie. We'll see you tomorrow.
While we're gone you are to go to classes and then directly to your
abuelita," said Jennie. Clarisa was an excellent caretaker, and had
been working at civilizing the young girl, with some success.

"Of course!" Liliana jumped back up and
kissed each of her relatives on the cheek before bounding off to
her morning lessons.

"Wow, what a handful. But I'm sure she's
totally worth it," said Alicia. "I'd like to have a child one day,
if I ever get married, that is." She gave Bagatelle a look with one
eyebrow cocked up, as if expecting some form of a response. The
Admiral merely grinned and went about finishing his meal.

Chapter 28 - Portlandia

 

The four Azul naval officers were seated at a
round table in Admiral Luigi Bagatelle's office in New Sydney,
going over a digital, tabletop map of Portlandia. It had numerous
dots of light on it, denoting the locations of illegally inhabited
warehouses, long ago abandoned. The city, despite its beauty and
numerous salt-water ports, was an economic mess. It was the one
place in all Azul System where fiscal irresponsibility was not only
tolerated; it was actually encouraged. Johnson had taken a bad
situation and made it worse, virtually drugging the population into
submission. It was something that the new Azul government would
have to address sooner rather than later.

"So I think we should destroy this warehouse
here. There is no one inside, but I can drop infoscreens into the
populated ones and give them a show they'll never forget. That
should cause them to vacate pretty quickly," said Max, pointing to
one of the dots.

"That was my idea, you know," added Jennie.
"Actually, I wanted you to hit one with a few losers in it. Nothing
like a bit of carnage to awaken the sensibilities."

"Jen, I can understand your intentions, but
we really can't go about wantonly slaughtering innocent civilians,"
said Bagatelle, who received an approving nod from his fiancé.

"But what if they were gen-vamps? Or even
activated ones? God help us if that clown we captured had turned
anyone," responded Jennie.

"We have ways of detecting them, Jen," said
Max, adding a bit of finality to his tone.

"Very well, then. How shall we get there? A
shuttle or the Gunnarsson Express?" asked Bagatelle.

 

###

 

Max slipped the group to the stairs leading
up to City Hall in Portlandia. Garbage was gently blowing in the
streets, and it was obvious the city had previously experienced a
complete meltdown. There was no one walking on the streets, and
bringing up an infoscreen, Max showed his group that most everyone
was inside their homes. Even City Hall was empty. Businesses were
closed, which was unfortunate, as Portlandia wasn't an agrarian
town - it was based on government-supported and sponsored commerce.
That meant there was going to be a lot of hungry people. No open
stores equaled no food. None.

"Man, they sure screwed this place up,"
said Max. "It reminds me of Athens after the riots in the early
21
st
century."

Graffiti was everywhere, on nearly
every building. Phrases like
Power to the
People
and
Free Food is a
Human Right
were frequently used, along with archaic
gang writings, nearly indecipherable to the officers.

"Man, they just don't get it, do they?" asked
Alicia.

"This place? They want everything for free
and to sit around making crap art while drinking coffee," Jennie
responded.

"I've seen some pretty good pieces of art
from here before," said Max.

"Yeah Max, but how many artists created those
pieces? Two? Maybe three? Just because art is something anyone can
do doesn't mean it's good. You have to provide a sellable and
marketable product, not just piss in a jar with a crucifix in it
and then demand 5,000 pesos,"

Max was pleasantly surprised at his
wife's response. She was a product of military life, and being
such, had previously lacked market sensibilities or a grasp of
commerce. Plus, he enjoyed her reference to a
20
th
century art display that
had nearly half of the former U.S.A in an uproar.

"Okay, team. Let's get moving. Max, we have
troops coming in at 0900 hours. That's 15 minutes from now. We need
to get everyone out of those warehouses right before they arrive,"
said Bagatelle.

"Which troops are you bringing in,
Admiral?"

"The Samurais. They're quick and efficient.
We can't mess around with these clowns anymore."

 

Max cleared out some space for himself
and waved his hand out, creating a number of infoscreens, all
viewing an empty warehouse. Whipping his hands up into the sky, the
magical displays shot off and went to their individual
destinations, dropping down perfectly in front of groups of people
in inhabited structures. But Max had a trick up his sleeve. He made
it appear that there were people in the displays. Numerous
disheveled vagrants walked up to the screens, looking at them
curiously. As soon as Max knew he had their rapt attention he
dropped a small boulder on the vacant building in the view,
mimicking the effects of a
mass
driver
dropped from outer space.

The building was vaporized. Instantly. In its
place was a crater the size of a city block. It was all he needed
to do.

Hundreds of squatters panicked and ran out
into the streets. Once they were all out, Max performed a complex
barrier cantus that virtually locked them out of the warehouses. It
was at that moment that dozens upon dozens of ground troops, led by
Isamu's Samuari, came pouring out through a portal from Vera. They
were supported by numerous gunships, hovering over the crowds, the
noise from their anti-grav engine creating an ominous roar.

Clean up was easy. In fact, there was no
resistance whatsoever.

"Brave souls when they have spray paint cans
and a police force unwilling to quell rebellion, eh?" mused
Bagatelle.

"Yup, and no chanting stupid slogans either,"
said Max.

 

The troops rounded up all of the vagrants in
an orderly fashion, and led them down Oak Street toward the
temporary housing that had been set up earlier. It was there they
would be processed, tested for extra-genetic qualities, given a
Prīmulī antidote for their drug withdrawals, and then provided with
simple chores in a structured community. It was Max's plan to ease
them back into the fold. He knew they would fail if they simply set
them out into the streets. These people needed to once again find
purpose and leave their excuses and addictions behind.

 

"Now we need to find out who the shop owners
are. We can give them a hand with supplies, as I'm pretty sure
they're all wiped out," said Bagatelle.

"Harder even, we'll need to find out
who the
original
store owners
were," said Max, "as I'm sure they had their properties confiscated
by the local government all in the name of
fairness
and
equity
. They need to be reimbursed and given the
opportunity to run their own shows again."

"Some of the older women of the Haida tribe
volunteered to manage commerce, and to make sure there's no price
gouging by the store owners," added Alicia.

"I think they would be perfect for the job,"
said Jennie.

 

###

 

Back in Bagatelle's office at Blue Mil, the
four naval officers were seated again at the round table in the
middle of the room. However, this time they were joined by Jake
Williams, who had been functioning as chief of police of the
second-largest city on the planet and was slipped over for the
meeting.

"So, we've only experienced the usual - a
couple of looting incidents, mainly on the homes of the gen-vamps
who were incarcerated. And other than a couple of air car crashes,
all is peaceful in the city."

"That's certainly great news, Chief. I knew
you would do a standup job when you volunteered for the position,"
said Bagatelle. "We four have a special spot in our hearts for
Buenos Aires, being the capital city of the country of our birth.
That being said, we now go to phase two. We need to start
reinforcing some public structures and underground shelters. This
won't be your job, per se, but you will need to assign some
officers to make sure building supplies aren't stolen. We've
already created a staging point in Puerto Madero."

"No problem, Admiral."

Bagatelle touched a small panel and the
tabletop became a beautiful, three-dimensional white map of Buenos
Aires. It already had glowing dots in seven locations.

"We've already pushed these locations to your
personal console. The SeaBees are bringing in their construction
gear starting tomorrow morning."

"Who are these SeaBees, Admiral?"

"They're the naval construction battalion,
Chief - a very old and respected segment of the Navy, dating back
to hundreds of years before the Exodus to Azul. They'll reinforce
superstructures and underground housing with hardened quadrinium
and hypercrete."

"Hypercrete?"

"Molecularly-altered concrete, 35 times
stronger than normal. We've been using it for building for the past
50 years. Unfortunately, most of the buildings in the main cities
are much older than that."

Max walked off to the side of the room to
call on his father. Even though it was telepathic, he still felt it
was polite to not look as if he were zoning off or daydreaming in
front of everyone, as that was the typical expression one had when
in the midst of a comm call.

 

"Dad, how goes the hunt for the
Grigori?"

"We determined which planet they were on,
but they fled once we arrived. Anaita also went with them."

"Is that bad? I mean, she's a Primulus and
all, but is she a formidable warrior?"

"It is not that, Max. It is that she is our
sister. It shall pain us to kill her."

"Is the leaky comm still functioning?"

"Yes, but the signal is fading. Your
particles, once absorbed, are eventually dispelled."

"Individuals… hey! Why not just take them
down one by one? Why fight them all at once? How many are there,
anyway?"

"Excellent idea, Son. Samyaza and Gadreel
are merely the leaders, and the sons of the Primulus whom Father
banished to Purgatory."

"What? Marnn is their dad? Aw man!"

"And they currently have 114 in their ranks,
but nearly all are of a lower caste than we."

"Crap. 114. That's a lot."

"Yes indeed."

 

Max returned to his seat at the table,
wearing a despondent look.

"What the matter, Max? Are you okay?" Jennie
asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. It's just that the aunt I
never met is now hooked up with the Grigori and Dad has to kill
her."

"Max," said Bagatelle, "if she has sided with
the enemies of humanity then she needs to be eliminated with
extreme prejudice. Once cannot take a blood relation into account
in such a situation."

"I know. It just kinda sucks. Anyway, I need
to meet with my junior lieutenant in charge of cracking Johnson's
infernal gen-lock on the space vessels."

"I'm with you too, Max," said Jennie. She
didn’t really have anything to do with the science aspect of the
operation - she just wanted to visit with a friend."

" Chief, we'll slip you back to Buenos Aires
now if you like. We'll meet up in the Rhönen tomorrow."

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