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Authors: Wayne Thomas Batson

The War for the Waking World (29 page)

BOOK: The War for the Waking World
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“Where do we have to go?” Kaylie asked. “What are the positions for us to anchor in?”

Doc Scoville went over all the calculations and had Kaylie and Rigby check them on the screen. Once confirmed, Doc Scoville said, “As you can see, we've got to push the EM field the same direction, but from opposite sides. Archer and Kaylie, Rigby and I . . . well . . . we'll be paired up on opposite sides of the world from each other.”

“Snot buckets!” Archer exclaimed. “How are we going to coordinate? You said we had to be positioned perfectly and build something
just big enough and no more. How are we going to get all that figured out?”

Doc Scoville rubbed his palms together and got a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, since NORAD isn't exactly paying attention right now, I took the liberty of retasking all their satellites. I've created earphones, vest mics, sensors—the works. The EM's going to distort our signal a little, but since we'll have all the sats working for us, we'll be able to keep everything tight.”

“We'd better,” Rigby muttered.

“What about the Harlequin Veil?” Archer asked. “How do we shut that down?”

“That's the easiest part,” Rigby said. “We just 'ave to blow up the Dream Tower.”

“The whole thing?” Kaylie asked.

“We don't need to reduce it to dust,” Rigby said, “if that's what you're thinking. No, we just need to take out her communication center. It uses the whole tower as a broadcast antenna.”

“Okay, Doctor Scoville,” Archer said. “What's our best order of operations here?”

“Well, the way I see it, Kara's the first priority,” he said. “If the spy report from Nick is accurate, she'll attack come dawn. We don't need to beat her, not right off, anyway. We just need to repel her attack, knock her sideways, make her retreat to lick her wounds a little. That will give us time to get into position to repair the Rift. Once the Rift is fixed, we rendezvous at the Dream Tower and take out the Harlequin Veil.”

Rigby nodded. “With the Veil down and the Rift reversed, we should 'ave no problem defeating Kara.”

“Wait,” said Amy. “I'm one of the team now. What do I get to do?”

Doc Scoville frowned. “I had no idea you'd be joining us,” he muttered. Then, he smiled. “I know! I'll rig up a master command center here . . . as a backup, just in case something goes wrong with our communication out there.”

“You sure you don't need me to go out there and fight stuff?” Amy said.

Kaylie frowned. “Amy, are you still happified?”

“No, I think . . . I think I'm okay now. I can fight. I'm ready.”

“I hope it doesn't come to this,” Archer said, “but if Kara's forces overrun this fortress, it'll be all of us fighting. Until then, Amy, I'd rather keep you safe. After all, you've only had a few days of experience.”

“Close to a week,” she mumbled.

“Still, not enough,” Rigby said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Amy smiled bravely, adjusted her glasses, and said, “Okay. I'll be the master command center, uh . . . person.”

“What about Kara?” Kaylie asked. “What if Kara catches wind of what we're doing? Couldn't she just push back with EM pulses of her own? I mean, she's so strong right now.”

“You're right, of course,” Doc Scoville replied. “We just have to hope Kara doesn't figure it out.”

Archer pinched the bridge of his nose, and then rubbed his eyes. “That's risky,” he whispered.

Rigby muttered, “I don't know what choice we 'ave.”

“And we won't get a second chance,” Archer said.

Rigby looked at the nearest monitor. “You're right. Just two days left.”

“We've got our plan, then?” Doc Scoville asked.

“I like it, mostly,” Archer said. “But something's bugging me. I need to take a break and see if I can un-fry my brain. Let's meet back here in ten minutes.”

“Anything I can help with?” Amy asked.

“No, no,” he said. “I just feel like I need to think things through.” They exchanged nods and glances, and then departed the Ready Room. Archer ended up two floors down with a beautiful barn owl perched on his forearm. It was Doctor Who, Archer's favorite zoo
resident. Somehow, having her with him again helped him think. The Dreamtreaders had their plan in place, but variables were way outside of his control: Kara and Bezeal chief among them. As he continued to pet Doctor Who, he had a few new ideas. Not fully realized, but seeds. That would have to do.

When the ten minutes were up, Archer and the rest reassembled in the Ready Room. The others sat, but Archer remained standing. “Okay,” he said. “The bones of the plan are there. Doctor Scoville, your calculations might just save the world.”

“Well,” Doc Scoville said, holding up a hand. “It's not just me. It's a team effort.”

“It is,” Archer agreed. “But while we took that break, I was thinking . . . wondering if there might be a better way to utilize our team . . . and the time. We've so little time. We've got to use every minute or we're all done. I think I know how.”

“Great, Archer,” Rigby muttered. “You 'ad to go tinker.”

“Hush, nephew,” Doc Scoville warned. “What's your plan then?”

Archer took the next thirty minutes to explain his “tweak” to the plan. When he was finished talking, a lot of nervous looks were around the table.

“I don't know,” Kaylie whispered.

Doc Scoville said, “It'll require twice as much coordination.”

“It's incredibly risky,” Rigby said. “But . . . it's a risk no matter what we do. I like it.”

Archer nodded. “The only complication is Amy,” he said. “This will likely expose her to greater danger, and I don't like it. But I've thought of something else we can do with Amy, especially if I can find Razz in time.”

“I'm game for whatever,” Amy said, “as long as I don't have to ride on one of Rigby's giant, clown spider things.”

Rigby laughed. Everyone joined in. Afterward, Archer said, “No
spiders for you. But . . . uh, you might get your wish, the one you mentioned earlier.”

Amy's eyes widened in recognition. “Rock on. Tell me more.”

Archer did. He outlined the rest of his plan concerning Amy, and in the end they agreed. They separated to get their gear ready and make other preparations.

In the hall, Kaylie raced over to Archer and almost made him trip. “Whoa, Kaylie,” Archer said. “What's wrong?”

“Oh, it's awful, Archer.”

“What is?”

“When we were on break,” she began, “well, I didn't mean to, but I kinda eavesdropped on Uncle Scovy and Rigby.”

Archer looked quickly up and down both sides of the hall. “They better not be planning to backstab—”

“No, no,” Kaylie said, her lower lip trembling. “They were talking about the EM bursts we need to generate to reverse the Rift. They aren't Dreamtreaders, Archer. For them to make something big enough to generate a strong enough EM pulse, it could be dangerous.”

“It'll weaken all of us,” Archer said. “We know that.”

“No, not weaken,” Kaylie said. “It won't just weaken Uncle Scovy and Rigby; it could kill them.”

Three hours later, long after all the gear had been packed, Archer stood on the high balcony in Scoville Manor's newly built main tower.

Amy wandered out of the inner stairwell. “Archer?” she called.

“Out here,” his voice carried back from the balcony.

Amy appeared at his left shoulder. “You should be getting some sleep,” she said, her voice oddly flat. “Four hours until dawn. The attack is supposed to happen then.”

“I don't need sleep,” Archer replied. He stared out into the gloomy night. Light snow had begun to fall, but the thickening clouds threatened more.

“What
is
that?” Amy asked, pointing out into the snow-flecked darkness.

“I see nothing of note,” Archer said. “Range?”

“Four thousand meters,” she replied.

Archer stared out, squinting to get to the proper distance. Then, he saw it: a distorted horizontal line in the night, and it was growing more distorted. Tendrils of white and violet lightning streaked around the line.

Suddenly, the line tore open, and glistening black figures began to pour out. They came by the hundreds and began to charge toward Scoville Manor. Their strides were superhuman, eating up great spans in each leap. Other things escaped the portal, flying things.

Archer turned and said, “Sound the alarm. Kara is here. And she is early.”

FORTY-THREE

T
HREADS OF
B
ATTLE

N
ICK AND
B
EZEAL HUNG BACK BY THEIR PORTAL WITH
Kara as the last of her soldiers spilled over onto the road and raced away. The portal closed behind them with an electric snap.

“That is a sight to behold,” Kara said, watching her soldiers loping up the street. Half invisible in the darkness and falling snow, her army looked like a sea of black glass shards, rippling away toward

the fortress of Scoville Manor. “Bezeal, you outdid yourself on the armor and weapons. The Dreamtreaders won't know what hit them.”

Bezeal bowed slightly. “There are very few subjects I know so well . . . as weapons, destruction, and all things fell. Eagerly, I await

our foes' death knell.”

“How long till we get in on the action?” Nick asked, his demeanor enflamed by Bezeal's treatments. “I'm fair raring to go.”

Kara smiled at Nick's new enthusiasm. “We will let the ground troops break through the Dreamtreaders' defenses first. Then, we attack. And, remember, our main targets are Archer, Rigby, and Doc Scoville.”

“What about Kaylie?” Nick asked.

“She is a target as well,” Kara replied. “But I do not want her killed. I have plans for her.”

Bezeal's pinprick eyes tripled in size. “What is this? You want the girl to survive? Nay, you cannot allow any enemy to thrive. We agreed there would be no Dreamtreader left alive.”

“I changed my mind, Bezeal,” Kara replied. “You did say your
treatments would work on anyone. Kaylie's strength is too valuable to squander.”

Bezeal's only reply was a quiet hiss.

“Dooley, look at that fortress,” Nick said. “A fair bet they're expecting us.”

“If they are, it's your doing,” Kara hissed. “I don't know how you did it, but it could only have been you. Now keep your mouth shut unless I speak to you first.”

Nick's expression didn't turn combative or angry. He nodded and said, “Yes, Mistress Kara.”

She looked far ahead. Her soldiers were nearing the fortress' outer walls, their movement like a shadow tide approaching a shoreline.
And your castle,
Kara thought,
will fall like a sand castle. This, I promise you.

With them in place, Kara closed her eyes and activated all fifteen hundred strings, the invisible mental tethers she'd established with each individual soldier. Through them, she could issue commands at the speed of thought, she could see through any one warrior's eyes, and she could even enter the consciousness of a soldier and take possession of it. It felt a lot like some of the more advanced virtual reality games, not that Kara really knew what that was like. She despised all video games.

For the moment, Kara took full control of a warrior about six rows back from the very front line. She gasped at the rush of adrenaline. It was exhilarating to flat out sprint into battle with so many allies running along with her. Kara leaped over a fire hydrant and a hedge, pausing just long enough to look up at the fortress. “Pretty good, Archer,” she whispered. “Those walls look pretty solid. Pretty tall too. It's a shame the walls won't be good enough.”

Eyes locked on the base of the forward wall, Kara watched as the rows of soldiers ahead of her didn't stop at the formidable walls. Like hundreds of frenzied ants, they found traction in even the slightest crevices between stones, and then clambered up. They didn't even break stride.

Kara willed her warrior to do the same and exulted as she ran up the side of the castle. It was Kara's last smile for quite some time.

Trumpets rang out overhead. Swarms of combatants issued forth from the high parapets. Kara skidded to a halt as a gigantic scarecrow simply dropped over the side and plummeted toward her. She yanked a laser-revolver from her breastplate and fired. For a breathless moment, the gun hummed and glowed with a rapidly increasing phosphorescent blue. Then it discharged a zigzagging bolt of destruction that instantly shredded half of the scarecrow's body.

The rest of it slammed into Kara's soldier body, dislodging her from the wall. She and the ruined scarecrow careened together and landed in a heap of other warriors. Somewhat disoriented, Kara shoved the broken scarecrow off and stood. It was just in time to see a strange, shriveled little man wearing a red cap. He grinned wickedly, revealing a set of crooked, yellow teeth.

BOOK: The War for the Waking World
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