Tads arose at dawn to perform her rituals, as she normally did. The morning was still a little brisk this early in the year, but the smell of the ocean bare metres away reminded her how far from home she was, and how far out of her normal type of land. Still – Elk was nothing if not adaptable, and as she opened herself up to the magical plane she felt her connection to her totem just as strongly here with her shoes making indentations into the sandy beach as she did when her steps crunched over a layer of icy permafrost.
With her dawn rituals complete, she stretched and rose, catching sight of Hunter grabbing a cup of soy-caf from the end of the room and coming out of the hut to look around him, stretching the kinks out of his back. She wandered over to chat to him about something that had been nagging at her.
"Morning, Hunter!" He grunted in response, sipping at the scalding hot black liquid and waiting for the stimulants to finish waking him up. "Say, I've been having a think. You used to work for a corporation right, this Zeta-Imp-Chem?"
"S'right. What about it?"
"Well, did they ever take blood samples or medical samples from you, during examinations? Or anything like that?"
"Yeah, chemical monitoring at times, and routine physicals and stuff, and before major surgery and afterwards to make sure things were working."
"Hmm. I'd guessed so. Well, you may want to think about keeping yourself inside the chopper at nights then. Or certainly whenever we're sleeping, given our schedules. If any of those samples were preserved correctly, they could be magical links to you, or used for tracking the rest of your body."
Hunter sighed heavily, and sipped at his caf. Tads was about to continue, but then thought better of it. He was probably processing the news – he wasn't daft after all, but it was a situation he clearly couldn't do anything about personally, and she suspected that particular kind of helplessness didn't sit well with him. Well, it didn't sit well with most people – but as someone normally well skilled at keeping himself safe and secure and in charge of what was going on around himself, that probably grated more than most. The situation wasn't helped by Marius strolling out of the hut with his own mug of soy-caf a moment later, clearly having heard some of the conversation.
"It's only going to be an issue if they really want him isn't it? Magical tracking is expensive. Well, not expensive actually, but using up a rare resource, which makes it expensive in corporate terms."
"But we know they are looking for him, and they're willing to pay thousands for information about him, not even for him! Surely that makes it worth it?"
"Ja ja, but that's not necessarily the same part of the corp that authorises magical expenditure. Corporations have departments and bureaucracies, and sometimes a corp can throw your plans further under the bus than your rivals would. Tads shuddered a little, trying to work out how corps had become the dominant power on the planet when they acted like that – comparing them to the close-knit structure of her tribe and not understanding how they worked at all.
Aswon ambled down the rear ramp of the chopper, stretching his hands high above him to work out the kinks in his back from the warding ritual. It was an impressive sight – while trolls routinely hit 2.5-3m, they were in proportion, and just looked huge generally. Seeing a "regular" human that tall just seemed more odd…
"Good morning everyone. The enclosure is magically secured, and that should last a couple of weeks at least. If we need it to last longer than that – well, something has gone wrong, I think. Hopefully though, if the creatures are awakened or magically active, they will see the barrier and recognise it, and it may stop them attacking the pen."
"There you go Hunter – you can sleep in there until we put the scorpions in. Extra magical protection to stop them tracking you."
"Ha ha, very funny." Hunter pulled a face, showing what he thought of that idea. They quickly caught Aswon up on what they'd been discussing.
"Well, I would suggest that you let Tads take a clipping of your hair or some skin or something, then embark on a ritual of obscurement, to confuse and confound your pursuers. That will teach them." Aswon nodded sagely. "Tads is the only one with access to the metaplanes of magic, where she must go with your spirit pattern, and weave it into the manasphere, hiding and concealing it."
"How the hell does that work?"
"Oh, I don't know – I'm just a huntsman. But Tads knows – she's our spirit talker." Aswon sounded very matter of fact, and eyes turned to Tads who was just as confused as Hunter had been – this was something she'd never done or even thought about before – why would you want to hide from your tribe? She settled for nodding sagely and hoping the conversation would change soon to let her have a think on it, and maybe dream to see if Elk had any inspiration to offer her.
"I'm sure if we get her the right materials she could make some kind of foci or talisman for it. Of course that means we have to stop moving for a month and give her chance to work – so not something that's going to happen until we get this job done. And we're not going to get the job done, until I've had some coffee. Or caf. Or a mug of brown disappointment. I suspect I know which of the three I'm getting. Oh well." With that Aswon headed into the flop house to investigate the supplies.
Tads headed into the chopper and looked around astrally, to see if she could spot Grandfather. The spirit was nowhere to be seen, even when she called his name a few times. She stood in the middle of the cargo area, and cleared her throat.
"Grandfather, it's very important that I speak with you. I apologise and I mean no disrespect." She paused for a moment and there was still no answer, no presence near her. Taking a deep breath, she focussed her mana and started to call forth a spirit – expecting a crotchety and very annoyed old man. Instead, what she got was a faint shimmer in the air, a zephyr, like a heat haze on a hot day. The air spirit was wild, carrying a faint feeling of sand blowing through the air, delicate grasses waving back and forth. She examined it carefully, and it appeared to be an entirely normal air spirit – elements of the beach, the ocean, the scrub covered hills and the clear blue skies all wrapped up into a normal ethereal package. She asked the spirit to guard the chopper from harm, and stood there for a few more moments, thinking about what that signified.
Aswon came up the ramp quietly, his cup of brown disappointment barely touched. As he looked around he spied the remains of the dinner he had made last night and laid out for grandfather, cold and congealed. He quietly picked it up and threw it in the bin, then started to tidy up the chalks and supplies he'd used for his warding rites as Tads stood in place, looking around astrally and tasting the aura of the chopper.
The others rose and they had breakfast – deciding not to try the ration packs in the flop house based on their experience with the soy-caf, and using their own supplies. As they were finishing up their food, they discussed the plans for the day. Marius wanted Hunter to try and get on the matrix and check out the maps to see what had survived of the area they were heading for, and what hadn't so they could make their plans. As usual, it was Tads who looked confusedly at them, wondering what they meant – her tribal life and primitive background meant that she missed out on a lot of the background culture and knowledge the rest took for granted. Kai filled in some of the blanks for her.
"Back fifty or so years ago, there was a thing called the 'ten minute war'. Turns out some leader in Libya decided to launch an aggressive strike against Israel and they set off a chemical attack. Israel took that as an attack with a weapon of mass destruction, and responded in kind. Within a few minutes, they had fighter-bombers loaded up with ballistic nuclear strikes and launched a series of attacks against the major cities. It rocked the world at the time – lots of the Arab nations threatened to gang up on Israel and take them out, Israel spat in their faces and said whoever moved first was going to get turned into the next car park."
Tads looked appalled, and the others were quiet. Even the normally irreverent Hunter had nothing humorous to say about 80% of a country's civilian population being decimated within a ten minute window.
"That was pretty much it for the country. Most of the people lived in the cities on the coast – the ones that got nuked. It killed the heart of the people, leaving only some tribes who lived far inland – but they didn't amount to much. Most of the rest were evacuated by something called the 'unn', which was like the corporate court – some kind of police force and legal body at the time. Egypt technically annexed the land, but a lot of it was radiated nastiness and wasteland, with no infrastructure and just a really bad and creepy feeling. Then of course, much much later, it turned into the corps' shooting range when Desert Wars started, and now really almost no-one lives there at all – not with air strikes and tank battles going on."
"And we're heading into this? Into the graves of millions of people wiped out in a nuclear apocalypse?" Tads didn't sound like she wanted to hear the answer, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.
"No, no – we're staying well clear of the cities. We're heading into the deeper desert, the interior regions, I think. That's probably where the creatures live. I think. That's right isn't it, guys?"
That started another debate, where they discussed what little they knew of scorpions and that type of creature, their likely habitats and predator/prey cycles. It at least changed the subject from the death of a couple of million people, and the horrified expression on Tads' face slowly faded.
"I was thinking we could head for El Sallem, and use that as our entry point," opined Marius, "It's in Egypt – just – so should still be there and functioning as far as I know, but I can't see the border as being too strong if it's there at all." Hunter keyed up the matrix link and tried to get some decent maps, fighting with the adverts, spam links and corporate paywalls that prevented access to high-resolution digital imagery.
"It's there, but I've got no data, no street imagery, nothing with a decent resolution. But panning around, I can't see anything beyond a petrol station and some offices in terms of infrastructure. Lots of houses, but no sign of anything relating to an airbase, local airport or any facilities we can use."
They worked out the distance from their current location, plotting fuel radius and travel directions, and it became clear that going via El Sallem would cause more problems than it solved. While they were pouring over the maps, Shimazu grabbed his phone and dialled the number that Aslick had given him – if they were going to Egypt, it seemed like an ideal time to touch base with this professor!
Unfortunately, after thirty seconds of waiting, the call diverted to voice mail, where a cultured sounding voice informed him he was unable to take his call, but to leave a message. Shimazu did so, briefly explaining how he'd obtained the number and that he wished to engage his services for teaching, advising that he would call back later. When he tuned back into the conversation, he found that Hunter was talking to Kai.
"That's why you should go. You go talk to her, you're far more likely to get something out of her than we are. She's likely going to be able to tell us if there's somewhere we can refuel or find berthing. Come on, Kai – this is your area of specialty."
Kai grumbled, but got to his feet, heading down towards the shore and the makeshift marina cum workshop that was laid out. He could hear the sound of someone moving around, and carefully worked his way around the scattered equipment and materials, looking for the source. The beach was shallow here, and he could see the marks where boats had been dragged up onto the shore or pushed back to the water after repairs and refit, the huge plastic blocks that were used to secure the hulls and stop the boats tipping, and a wide variety of crates, containers and packing materials scattered about.
On the eastern side of the beach were a number of huts and lean-to's that provided shelter from the sun and weather, holding more supplies and a variety of frames, forms and workbenches. He followed the noises towards one of the larger sheds, and then peered into the relative darkness, letting his eyes adjust until he spotted Ibretta working at a bench, disassembling some kind of small pump or engine. He cleared his throat.
"Good morning, I wonder if I can ask for some help and advice?"
"Well, get some better clothes and stop flying in that shit-show for starters." Kai blinked at her hostile tone of voice, and thought back – wondering if he'd done something to upset her. Nope – he couldn't think of anything. Maybe she'd just not had her morning coffee. He moved closer, then turned on the charm, adjusting his body language and slowly and subtly tensing and relaxing muscles to reshape his face a little, trying to echo her features.
"Haha, very droll. Well, we're looking at flying over the sea towards what was Libya – and we need to find somewhere over there to refuel. I wonder if you might know of anywhere?"
"Oh, you just expect me to arrange this for you, do you? Just bend over backwards to make your arrangements? Want me to wipe your arse for you, too? You're all the same, you lot! Makes me sick!" The hostile stream continued, and Kai realised for all his skills and abilities, his charm was having no effect whatsoever, like waves smashing into flood defences, being redirected off and cast aside.
He continued to talk to her, trying to get her help, and cracking a few jokes to try and lighten the mood – but if anything this seemed to enrage her, and she became more and more spiteful. He changed tack, and went for a no-nonsense business approach instead. He wasn't sure he was making much progress in 'cracking the ice' but he did finally get some useful information.
"There's a place you can refuel at. On the coast, near an old airbase. You listening? Co-ordinates 32.417 by 23.123. Run by some dirty stinking Arabs so you should fit right in. Now have you done wasting my time?" A phone rang in her pocket, and she threw her tools down on the workbench in disgust. "See! Now look what you've done!" She clawed at the phone and answered with a snarl, moving back from Kai to get a little privacy. Kai decided to take a few steps closer to the door, unsure how her phone ringing was his fault, but not wanting to press the issue.
"Right, we've got a boat coming in later this morning. When are you and that pile of shit you call a chopper leaving, we want some space to move."
"Ahh, you're all done. Well, you'll be glad to know we'll be on our way soon enough, now that we have the location of a fuel stop. Thank you. Now, just one more question – any idea where we can buy a rad-suit or anything like that?"
"What am I, your personal fracking shopping assistant? Go find Zoe and bother her!"
"Aww, come on. Don't be like that." Kai tried a different approach…there must be some way to deal with her! "Wouldn't you want to try fitting me in a rad suit? Feeling the material slide up over my body?" He started to trace his hands up his body, sensually stroking his legs and midriff, while fixing her with a stare. He stopped abruptly as Ibretta picked up a rivet gun and slapped in a fresh magazine, then turned and quickly left as he heard the air pump kick into action as she started to charge up the pressure.
He didn't run. Definitely not – but he did walk very swiftly back to the chopper, striding up the back ramp and hitting the close button as he passed it.
"Ok folks – we've wasted enough of the day, let's get in the air and get going!" The rest of the team seemed a little startled, but after a moment, clambered to their feet and headed for their stations. Two minutes later the engines started, spluttering and coughing for a moment as they gasped for fuel – it appeared they had been down to their last couple of litres in the lines when they'd set the bird down the night before. With one final cough, the fuel pumps managed to push fresh supplies into the engines and they kicked into gear, building up to a roar and Marius watched as all the pressure gauges settled into the green areas.
Moments later the view outside was obscured as the rotors started to generate enough downdraft to send sand and gravel flying in all directions. With his vision obscured, Marius watched the gauges intently, getting an ultrasound and radar fix on the buildings and the moment he had enough power for takeoff, springing into the air. The rigger interface translated his mental actions to physical, and the chopper lifted off, gaining height as rapidly as he could and clearing the dust-storm he was kicking up.
Once at a steady one hundred metres he leant to one side, the massive helicopter dutifully pirouetting and turning to face south, before gently dropping the nose and transitioning to forward flight, rapidly leaving the island behind. As they flew onwards, steadily gaining in height, the team relaxed, looking out of the windows into the clear April morning. The water below them was a deep and lustrous blue, and this far from the mainland wasn't covered with the sludge and oil slicks that normally cast rainbow hues over the coastal waters. Whitecaps marched across their view, indicating that a stiff breeze was blowing from east to west, possibly the tail end of the cold fronts pushed down from Russia into the warmer lands nearby.
Hunter was still hard at work on the computer, trying to find better maps and intelligence data on the area of north Africa they were heading into, so Marius kept the speed down – making sure the satellite uplink had an easy job remaining locked on and didn't disrupt the signal. In the back of the chopper, the magic team got ready to start warding the UAZ, wanting to make sure that it was astrally protected as well as the massive habitat. As they were starting, Shimazu felt his phone ringing, and excused himself from the team.
"Hello?"
"Is this Mister Shimazu? It is Dr Mohammed, from the University."
"Ahh, thank you for calling Dr, and it's just Shimazu."
"I see. Your message was a little unclear – how may I help you?"
"Well, I've a mutual friend in the Trans Caucus League, Mr Aslick,"
"Oh yes, poor man. A most unfortunate name I believe in some languages. Do go on."
"Yes, well I was chatting with him about training, and he was most complimentary about your skills, abilities and the qualities of your program. So I thought I would reach out to you, as we're in the area, so to speak."
"You're in Alexandria?"
"Um... no. We're in the Mediterranean though. We were in Russia, so we're a lot closer than we were…"
"I see. Well, I suppose all things are relative."
"Yes, and I 'm hoping I could stop by for some personal training and coaching, on a one to one basis."
"Well now, that can be considered. I'm afraid my time is rather precious though, and such training does come with a premium."
"That's fine – if you want the best, you have to pay the best. Though I would like to know how much we are talking about so I can clear it with my…. Supervisor. It shouldn't be a problem, though."
They chatted on for a few minutes, and Dr Mohammed agreed to send over some course materials and a price guide, to give some outline costs on the personal training that Shimazu sought. With business concluded, Shimazu returned to the rest of the magical team and they started their warding again – concentrating hard as they were buffeted and bounced around in the back of the cavernous helicopter.
Up front, Marius frowned as he felt a tiny little tingle at the tip of his nose, which vanished a moment later. He scanned around with his sensors, and saw nothing visually, then 'listened' with his radar. A very faint trace appeared, in the distance down on the water, before it vanished a moment later. He watched and waited, splitting his attention between piloting the craft and observing the area ahead. A few moments later, it returned only to fade out once more.
"Crap. Achtung! We might have a contact, hang on." The helicopter lifted higher, clawing for altitude and a better angle to look down on the ghost-like contact. When Marius plotted the tentative fixes he had, the source appeared to be coming straight towards them. He wondered if it was a mercenary craft, or perhaps a corporate anti-smuggler patrol, pirates or some other ship. A horrible thought occurred to him – if it was a military ship, then it was likely to be built with stealth in mind, possibly with EDs even. Electronic Deception systems used advanced systems to send out false or confusing sensor echoes – what appeared to be a small sailing boat may well be a twin turbine five thousand ton destroyer armed with missiles and attack choppers. Marius concentrated harder on the target, trying to lock it up and get a good read on what he was facing.
The target suddenly turned, veering nearly thirty degrees to port. Marius felt a chill down his spine – there was normally only one reason for a craft to do a manoeuver like that. By slewing hard to the side and changing the aspect ratio of the ship, they could unmask additional sensors or weapon systems that were otherwise obscured by the superstructure of a warship. He called out in alarm, activating the speakers and quickly filling in the rest of the crew while he continued to climb. Though it made him a slightly easier target to spot, the chopper was not stealthy by any stretch of the imagination and he'd rather have the height to play with and the greater ability to dictate the terms of any battle coming.
In the back Tads looked around at the rest of the team inscribing warding marks on the UAZ, and they looked back at her. Each in turn nodded at her, and she carefully laid down her chalk, easing back from the magical ward, trying to extricate herself and her spirit from the gathering power without disrupting or destroying it. She moved away carefully and strapped herself into one of the bench seats then projected out of her body. She took a deep imaginary breath, and then pushed through the outer skin of the aircraft, feeling the ward part obediently before her touch as the magical energy recognised her pattern. A moment later she was free, floating in the air and watching the chopper rapidly surge ahead of her.
Flick.
It could have been zoom. Or perhaps whoosh. But for Tads it felt more like a 'flick', like the difference in position of a switch. I was there… flick… now I'm here, five kilometres ahead. Moving as fast as she could, the world went past her like watching a simple animation, the pages flipping past one after another giving an illusion of motion, but with vast distances between them. Flick flick flick, now the chopper was behind her, twenty kilometres back and a speck in the distance, slowly rising in size. She looked around her, trying to spot the target that had spooked Marius. At least here on the astral realm there was no stealth system to worry about.
The sea below her was alive, a bright white that rolled and undulated below her. Trillions of bacteria, untold billions of microscopic creatures, a mountain of krill, more fish and aquatic mammals than she knew how to name. Their combined life essence made the sea glow before her, and even with all the damage that meta-humanity had done to the planet, still it teemed with astral energy. And there, amidst all the brightness of life, was a blank, grey, dead form, cutting through the waves, travelling fast. A wide wake churned up astral turbulence behind it as it moved to flank the chopper.
Suddenly she saw two astral forms rising up from the boat, one was a mage of some kind, just like her, projecting their mental form from their body. Next to them was a powerful spirit, equally as powerful as the mage, flying towards her in formation. With no desire to enter combat at 2:1 odds, she turned and fled.
Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, glance, still chasing her, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, glance, still there, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, flick, glance.
They'd gone, turned at some point, leaving her floating in mid-air. She had a vague sense of where she was, somewhere near the eastern end of the Med. She thought she could spot the coast of Israel on the horizon, which meant she'd travelled a good eight hundred kilometres or so before she'd lost her tail.
She sped back, angling a little to the south, keeping a watchful eye out for the other astral forms, and searched for the chopper. Here at least, the size of the Mi-6 was helpful, and it only took her a few minutes of quartering the skies to locate them. Now for the tricky part…
She knew that her body was on the left hand side of the craft, about halfway down the cargo area. She spotted the grey hulk of dead material hurtling towards her, part of her mind flinching at the oncoming mass even though astrally it was like gossamer. With a deep breath she timed it, breathing rapidly as the helicopter flew through her form, still travelling at over two hundred kilometres per hour.
Lurch
She grabbed at her body, locking her astral fingers onto her form, and moving her point of astral reference, translating her vector in less than a blink of an eye. Synchronising your astral form to your physical was always tricky at speed, and the greater the disparity between speeds, the harder it was – but this time she'd caught it just right.
Her eyes opened, and she reached up to her microphone, keying up and speaking quietly and calmly, belying the rapid beating of her heart.
"It was a large motorboat, I think. Perhaps ten metres long, with two big engines at the back. I didn't get chance to see any weapons or other systems as they had a mage and a spirit on standby who pursued me astrally. It didn't look like an attack though – the boat I mean. I think they were trying to avoid us, but were prepared to fight."
The chopper banked to port suddenly, as Marius swung around to a reciprocal course of the target. He hoped the pilot on the other side would see the course change and understand the unspoken message 'we don't want to fight you'.
He kept the course for ten minutes, allowing the craft to pass them far to the west, then swung back, heading to his original location. He still had a hard time keeping the sensors lock on the boat, but it appeared to be resuming its course to the north as well.
"What kind of spirit was it, Tads?" called Aswon, his face crumpled as he concentrated on scribing the ward onto the vehicle.
"Air spirit, I think. I didn't want to let them get too close. But that meant a shaman rather than a hermetic, and probably more likely an independent rather than a corporate mage. At least I think so."
Hunter sat up and yawned, then disconnected the cable from his datajack and looked around, returning to the real world from his jaunt into the matrix. He was no decker, but with his cybernetic implants and the basic deck they had stolen from the shop in the TCL, he was able to submerge himself into the matrix world as thoroughly as Marius did into his vehicle rig, swapping his physical body for one made of electrons.
"Right, got some basic information. The coastline on our side of Libya is used by approximately half the mega-corps, and a handful of minors. The rest of them use facilities further to the west. Wait, have I missed something?" The others assured him it was all under control and he continued. "Well, Ares, Sader-Krupp, Renraku, Yamatetsu and Fuchi all have various ports or marinas under their control down our end, along with a couple of the smaller corps such as Proteus. It seems there's not that many decent deep-water ports, so they have to share, but that means that shadow biz is rife. It also means they're on alert a lot of the time…"
"What about our area?"
"Well, near where we're heading is the remains of Bombah airport. Two long runways, used to be military. Got bombed with conventional weapons, but after the destruction of the rest of the country there wasn't anyone to rebuild. We're about five klicks to the south of that, and what looks like a much smaller civilian facility, on a spur of land sticking out around a bay. I've looked all over, but don't really have any information on the area at all, so we're going in pretty blind. But that means there's not people putting warnings out about it either – there's just no information out there. At least not that I can get access to.
They flew onwards, heading south across the Med, only detouring from their course to give the Herkalion a wide berth. All told they flew for about three and a half hours, but finally the shore of North Africa appeared on the horizon, swiftly gaining in size and detail as they closed. Marius eased down, paying close attention to the sensors and slowly dropping down out of radar coverage from any shore-based installations. Unless there were passive observers, there was nothing tracking him from the water or air, so they should be covert on their entry.
In the front turret Tads looked out, all the humour leeched from her. The area they were heading to looked ok, but on either flank were black pyres in astral space, huge twisting vortexes of malevolence and evil. She guessed that they were sites where once cities stood, until they had been wiped from the face of the earth by thermonuclear fire. The immolation of hundreds of thousands of people, the psychic scream of a nation ravaged by the ultimate form of annihilation that man could visit on himself had torn astral space almost to breaking point. Even from here, just looking at them, she could feel the sense of loss, despair and hatred. Certainly she didn't want to get any closer, and casting magic in there would be almost impossible. She blocked out the view to the left and right with her hands, physically blocking the sight of the devastation, and concentrated on the view ahead, silent tears rolling down her face.
As they closed on the shoreline, the deep azure blue of the sea turned into a slightly sickly-looking green, tendrils of pollution grasping the land and caught in the eddies of the shore. Even without a local population to create more waste, there was also nobody to monitor or maintain anything, and all up and down the coastline old infrastructure rusted and leaked into the sea, spreading a slow and constant stream of filth into the environment.
Once on shore it wasn't much better – the area was barren and wild, sand and bare rock as far as the eye could see. Even next to the shore the area was dry and cracked, bereft of rainfall and with precious little vegetation to prevent erosion. They flew on over the wasteland until they were a few kilometres short of their destination, where they called ahead on the provided frequency. A couple of grunts came back, then they were told in heavily accented English to land at the south end of the runway and taxi over towards the hut.
Their destination appeared to be an old civilian airport, the kind of place that people could learn to fly in basic propeller planes rather than go to for commercial travel. The runway was short, not much more than five hundred metres long, with a large taxi pad and storage area to the west. Further over to the west looked to be the remains of more buildings and hangers, but this appeared to be outside the fence now, and was half buried in sand and rubble. A four metre high fence surrounded the airport, topped with a single line of barbed wire, and one main double gate near the one large remaining aircraft hangar that looked to still be functional. Following instructions, they set down at the end of the runway, then gently taxied the bird close to the hangar and started to shut down. In the back the warding team continued their activities, less than halfway through their work. Tads was curled up in a ball in the front turret, refusing to move or talk while she processed what she had seen. That left Marius and Hunter 'free' and responsible for meeting with the staff – whoever they were.
With no sign of any hostiles, Marius let the engines cool and the systems shut down properly before they popped the side door and climbed down the fold out steps onto the tarmac. There was a slight breeze from the sea which took the edge off the heat, but already it was hot and they both broke out into a faint sweat, their bodies slightly shocked after spending several weeks in the much colder and icier backwoods of Russia.
As they stood at the bottom of the steps, acclimatising to the heat they saw a solitary figure ambling towards them from the hanger, dressed in flowing robes. His dark complexion contrasted with the white fabric, and they had plenty of time to examine him as he ambled towards them. He had a neutral expression on his face, half of which was covered with a large but neatly trimmed beard.
"I am Abbuman, peace be unto you."
"And unto you, peace. Thank you for allowing us to land," Hunter responded. As their host extended a hand, he met it and shook it politely, relieved that this man didn't seem too fussed about being greeted by a devil or tainted human – or was part of a sect or group that didn't think that all metahumans were abominations in the eyes of Allah.
"Do you require fuel?"
"Yes, we do actually, just standard aviation fuel, but we could do with topping off our tanks." Marius responded quickly. Abbuman's English was understandable but clearly accented and not his primary language. He led them towards the hanger and then pointed towards a large container against the wall, which contained a large diameter corrugated hose, complete with heavy duty locking rings. Clearly he didn't want to be involved in the manual task of fueling himself, and with a grimace Marius and Hunter grabbed the lengths of hoses and hauled them back to the chopper.
The setup here was similar to several of the other airports they'd encountered – a plate embedded into the plas-crete pad could be opened and revealed the underground nozzle linked to a fuel bunker somewhere. When the hoses were connected up, fuel could be pumped from the main tank into their chopper, without requiring a fuel bowser or leaving any equipment lying around. It certainly implied that there was a decent logistics chain for this place – a mobile bowser was far cheaper and easier to manage than an underground grid.
When the tanks had been filled, their host pulled out a cred-reader from under his robes, linked up to his systems in the hanger presumably. He confirmed the transfer of fuel then handed the unit over to Hunter to pay. The ork raised his eyebrow a little when he saw the 14K price tag, but it wasn't like they had a lot of choice, so he slapped in his certified cred-stick and watched the money drain out, leaving him with just a few hundred Nuyen left.
Once they'd put away the hoses, they returned to the chopper, noticing that the inside was already uncomfortably warm. The team doing the ward were dripping with sweat as they crawled over the UAZ, but couldn't really stop to take a break without disrupting the ritual. Marius opened the back ramp, while Hunter opened both the side doors and then cracked open the windows in the cockpit and the roof access hatch, trying to create a through breeze to prevent the chopper from turning into an oven.
After that, there seemed to be nothing to do but wait. They grabbed some handy tarps and slung them with cargo straps over the tail boom and secured the other end with a crate of parts, fashioning a sun shelter and creating twenty square metres of shade, before grabbing something to drink, a couple of folding chairs and settling down at the end of the ramp, looking out over the savage wasteland and the clear skies that stretched to the horizon.
After a few minutes of silence, Hunter dragged his chair round to be next to Marius, and pulled up his tablet, showing him the low res and pixelated images of the terrain nearby. As much from boredom as anything else, they started to discuss what little they knew of the critters they were hunting, and trying to work out what kind of terrain they were most likely to find them in. They found an area about fifty kilometres to the west, inland from a town marked as "Derna" on the map, that looked rocky, craggy, and accessible – assuming the roads marked on the map were still actually there. The map they had was decades old, and it was likely the settlement was a ghost town, and any population long since moved on – but it was close to their current location, and might be an easy place to start the search.
Abbuman returned about an hour later, ambling towards them at the same relaxed speed, greeting them warmly once again in a courteous tone, which Hunter reciprocated.
"Are you staying a while, my friends? Do you require assistance?"
"We'd like to stay a while if we may – the rest of our team in the back are just…finishing some things off." Hunter caught himself just before he mentioned magic, not wanting to risk upsetting the man. He wasn't big on religion himself, but he knew that the awakening had come as a big surprise to organised religion, and some of them didn't think it was a good thing. "We were thinking of going into the desert though to drive around, maybe just go looking for some things. Could we leave the chopper here? Would it be safe?"
Marius watched his reactions carefully, wondering how he would react.
"Of course, my friend. I would be glad to arrange berthing here for you at a very modest price, and to keep your vehicle safe for you while you explore our lands. I should warn you though that the desert is an unforgiving environment, and you should be careful!"
Marius thought he was on the level, and certainly didn't seem to give off any "strip your chopper and sell it for parts" vibes, so they quickly haggled out a deal, agreeing to pay two hundred Nuyen for 'berthing rights' at the airport. Hunter resignedly pulled out his certified cred stick once more, draining over half the remaining funds. Once more he wandered off towards the hanger, leaving them to their thoughts.
The chatted absently, watching over the landscape and occasionally moving around to check on the folks inside or around the sides and front of the chopper. Nothing moved, and the heat was unrelenting, making them glad they'd slung up the tarp to generate some extra shade.
A half hour later, they saw Abbuman wandering over towards them again, pulling a small cart behind him. He headed over towards them and then pulled off the cover of his cart, and started to arrange the contents. First of all was a large Hookah, with several pipes running from the fluted bulbous body. Next was a large and comfy-looking cushion, which was a faded red marked with several stains and a number of missing tassels. Last of all was a large insulated container, from which he pulled out a small carafe of coffee and several bottles of water, covered in condensation. He offered them drinks, then attended to the Hookah, offering them each a pipe and letting them smoke some of the rich black tobacco fed into the burner. After pulling through the water a lot of the harshness was removed, and they sat back on their seats and cushions, sipping at drinks.
"So… which of you gentlemen will tell me a tale of foreign lands?" He gummed on his pipe and took a deep hit from the burning tobacco, the water gently burbling away in the bowl.
The chatted, with Hunter and Marius telling tales, suitably vague in places of things they had done and seen in various places around the world, drinking and smoking, and just watching the world go by. It was strangely serene, and from where they sat there was little to look at or see – indeed beyond the fence, there was nothing man-made within line of sight, a condition that was surreal to both of them. The hours slipped by, and the heat of the day finally started to abate somewhat, and finally they heard the buzz of conversation from inside as the rest of the team finished their warding. Someone had gone and fetched Tads, it seemed, though she was still quiet and withdrawn.
Marius and Hunter introduced their host to the rest of the crew, and they each grabbed a drink and some food, laying out an impromptu picnic on the loading ramp of the chopper, working out the aches and pains from the last eight hours of intense concentration. During the introductions Kai mentioned that they'd gained the location of the airfield from Ibretta.
"The Harpy? The evil witch?" He made a gesture with his fingers, perhaps to ward off spirits. "Alas upon you and your line, that you had to deal with her. My sincere apologies." There was an edge of bitterness to his voice, indicating that he had some dealings with her in the past, perhaps. Thinking back to his conversation that morning, Kai couldn't help but agree with him.
"So my friends, you are going to explore our lands? Like I said to your fine pilot earlier, the land can be an unforgiving place, and I bid you to be cautious."
"Well yes, and thank you. We've got some supplies especially for the trip, and lots of survival gear of various types. But we're mainly here to find some interesting wildlife while we're out exploring."
"Wildlife? Ahh, hunting. You are going to deal with some of the strange filth plaguing the land? These magical creatures that twist nature and defile things? Good!" Several of the team exchanged glances – clearly this wasn't a lover of magical critters, and possibly magic in general.
"Indeed," said Kai smoothly. "We're going to try and remove some of these strange creatures from the land. Of course, we're not sure if we should be hunting by day or night. Shimazu – any thoughts?"
"Over unfamiliar ground, I'd prefer to travel by day, rather than by night. Recent events have taught me that for sure." Abbuman nodded along with him, pointing his pipe at Shimazu when he had finished speaking.
"Most wise, my friend, most wise. Sometimes the desert will shift suddenly, with loose rocks, shifting sands, drops into wadis and so forth. Although at night, with a moon the desert can look particularly beautiful and serene."
"If we were to head out and look for wildlife, what kinds of things would we find do you think?" asked Aswon.
"Oh, many creatures. Afancs, Flame Jackals, rock striders and jumpers. Spiders, scorpions and many other creatures that feast on the insects. Lizards and geckos of many types, all gathered around waterways, wells or oasis. If you enter the desert itself, then sand worms and rock worms become more common, vultures and other birds, more snakes and spiders. There are many ways to die in the desert."
They chatted for a while, quizzing him about the animals, but it became clear that he didn't actually know very much about them – other than they were all incredibly dangerous and likely to kill with a single bite or lick, apparently.
Likewise they were warned about the few nomadic tribes that still wandered the desert, looking for tech and lost hardware, or guarding ancient tribal locations. According to Abbuman, these tribes were almost as dangerous as the animals. Several of the team wondered what would happen if an animal met a tribesman – would it perhaps cause a nuclear meltdown? Wry smiles flowed through the team as the thought hit them one moment after another, before being slowly displaced with the knowledge that not a hundred kilometres away lay two major cities that had been eradicated in just such an explosion, and that perhaps it wasn't quite appropriate, to be thinking of things like that.
Fortunately they were saved from their despondence when Abbuman made some comment about how they could always sell Tads to any tribe they ran into, though they shouldn't expect more than a single camel for one like her. The mood changed instantly, with Tads fixing him with a steely stare, wondering if he'd go any further. Sitting two places around, Aswon calmly put down his tray of food and plastic cutlery.
"I beg your pardon?" His body language shifted, and he leant forward towards Abbuman, also staring at him. Two sets of dark eyes met, and stared at each other, unblinking. Shimazu wondered if things were going to get tricky – and if they did, what he should do. He knew he could react before either of them got a chance, but if Aswon decided to go for a swift impale through the face with his spear… did he really want to stop him?
"I meant you might only get one camel for her, because of course they do not value true worth, being desert nomads. They do not appreciate the worth of things truly." His words sounded hollow, and it didn't require any skills or experience in psychology to watch him back-peddle furiously, having realised that perhaps his approach to a woman's place was not shared with is visitors.
Not long afterwards, Abbuman made his excuses, loaded his things back into his little trolley and then sauntered off towards the hanger. They waited until he was out of site before discussing their plans.
"What say we leave here, and fly south for a bit, looking for some good terrain to set down in? Then we're in place first thing, and we can go for a drive around at dawn, and go hunting for these critters." Aswon looked around and got nods of assent from most of the others. Hunter thought about mentioning the two hundred Nuyen for the overnight stay, then shrugged his shoulders. It really wasn't worth it, and it's not like the chain link fence was really going to save them from any kind of assault after all.
Shortly afterwards the team closed up the chopper and got everything ready for takeoff, getting into the air a little after 23:00. They flew south, heading into the desert and looking for a section of rocky outcroppings or a plateau that fitted the limited information they had on their quarry. Once more the magical members of the team got together and started with a ward on the plastic dog crates they had found – but this time they concentrated on completing the ritual quickly, rather than trying to ensure it would last as long as possible.
The massive chopper flew south at a hundred metres from the undulating dunes, looking for a good place to land and spend the remainder of the night.
