Friday 1/10/2060, Location:39.39222, -120.30863, Time 19:45

The team slowly relaxed in Trogdor's company as he busied himself cooking the juicy steak and idly chatting with them, giving them a little run-down on the area. He was pretty much the only person in the valley, using spirits to generally try and persuade others to stay away – nothing too violent if he could help it, just enough to make it feel uncomfortable. That left him with a few thousand acres of steep mountain-side and a small amount of land on the valley floor that was out of the way enough that he and his 'guests' were not disturbed. The peaks to the north and south rose up over fifteen hundred metres and formed a barrier that was very effective against sensors, while the land rose towards a lake to the west, and a ridgeline beyond that, while to the east the valley turned sharply to the south and the town of Tahoe. Even so, the eastern ridge was only five kilometres away, giving him a remarkably sheltered area to work in, ideal for those passing through with less than legal status.

Though the last few kilometres were rough roads, they were good enough to get the tankers up to give him a fuel supply, and most of the land-based smugglers had trucks decent enough that the road didn't bother them much either. His position thirty kilometres south of the Tir and fifteen east of the Ute nations put him in a good spot to catch passing trade, and he seemed content to live a pretty natural and quiet life in his little oak forest.

While Trogdor was describing things, Kai studied Shimazu. To the casual observer, he sat remarkably still, leaning back casually against the stones making up the extended fire pit, seemingly relaxed and calm. Kai knew better though – his training and familiarity with the Japanese bodyguard let him spot the tiny little tremors that occasionally made his hand twitch, the faster than usual breathing and the signs of agitation that were being ruthlessly supressed. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on him, and see what he could do in the way of keeping him busy and occupied to try and take his mind off of things.

"So Mr. Trogdor…"

"Just Trogdor will do."

"Very well. So – do you have an issue with us stopping off here on our way back? We've only got a small task to carry out down here, then we're probably heading back to Seattle. At least I think we are."

"Sure, ain't got no gripe with you folks. I ain't lending you ma toothbrush, least not yet. But you're chill."

"Great stuff. As I said we're only down here for one small task, and hopefully that won't take more than a few hours. Then we need to head back – but we were thinking of looking for some goods to purchase and take back with us. No point flying with an empty cargo bay after all! Do you know where we can buy some… what were they called, Hunter?"

"Cal-Hots."

"Yes, those."

"Well, today's ya lucky day." Trogdor smiled. Then pulled the steak towards him and took a huge bite of the sizzling meat, savouring the taste as juices squirted out into his mouth. "Aww man, that's good. Real good." His voice was a little indistinct as he masticated the magical meat, but his rumbling voice was clear enough to be understood. "I can hook you up with some chips, null sheen. I got standard sim-sense recordings, vanilla stuff, all the latest stars. But I've also got some hots. Think I got 'Blue Passion', 'Red Meanie' and some new stuff, they're calling 'em 'Cool Whites'. Signals ramped right up on all of 'em. Keep your average chiphead happy for a while, let me tell you."

"Well, I'm not sure about that, but it sounds good." Kai glanced over at Hunter and got a nod, then turned back to Trogdor. "I'm a little surprised though. I wouldn't have thought a powerful mage like yourself would be into chips?"

"Hah. Gotta know a little bit about what you sell, otherwise you get fleeced. I don't use 'em, don't much like 'em – but other folks do, and that's good enough for me. If they want to buy 'em and rot their brains, I ain't going to stand in their way."

"May we see what they look like?" Aswon asked. Trogdor stuffed the rest of the steak into his mouth and nodded at Aswon, a tiny dribble of meat fat escaping from the corner of his mouth and slowly running down the cracked and rough skin on the troll's face. He moved back from the fire pit a little, then lifted up one of the large stones that formed the top ring, exposing a small hollow space underneath. Lifting out a plastic crate his movements caused the contents to shift, a gentle 'shusshing' sound as small plastic objects swirled around in a pile inside. The troll popped the top off the crate as he sat down, then reached in and started to sort through the chips, coming up with small piles of similar-coloured and illustrated cases each containing a small optical wafer that held the simsense content. He spent a few minutes sorting through them all, and Aswon moved over to sit near him, peering into the box and carefully examining the contents.

Aswon dropped a quick message to Hunter, asking him to check the finances and to get a fuel status on the bird, to see if they could work out how much cash they had. The journey down from Seattle had covered just under seventeen hundred kilometres, and Hunter did some quick maths, working out how much it was likely to cost if the fuel here was as expensive as it had been anywhere else – figuring that was the safest way to do it, before feeding back to Aswon that they had about thirty thousand left in total, on all of their credsticks.

"And how much can you sell these for?" Aswon asked, pointing at the stacks.

"The standard short recordings I sell at twenty a pop if you want a handful or more. The full sense stuff goes for a grand each – but apparently, they're mind-blowing. If you're into that kind of thing." Aswon blinked, then did a quick bit of maths.

"Ok, I'll take fifty of the standard types then, and two of the hot ones. I'm not fussed which…" Trogdor smiled and nodded in understanding, and then started to sort through the piles to find fifty non-matching titles, stacking them up in one area, then grabbing two from the much smaller box in one corner."

"No worries. I'll stick it on your fuel bill in the morning?" Aswon looked over at Kai and Hunter and saw them both nod, then confirmed that was good to Trogdor, before carefully picking up the stacks of chips and placing them into a bag, making sure the two full-sense chips were carefully segregated – he didn't want to let them go for the price of one of the basic films by accident! "Anything else you want?"

"Not for me, I don't think. Unless you have some magical supplies for sale, spell formulas and such like, which our Shaman might be interested in, we're all done."

"I've got some stuff – plenty of telesma gathered locally, mostly herbal. But I've got some mojo too, mix of hermetic and shamanic." Tads perked up at this and moved around the bonfire so she could address Trogdor directly.

"Yes, please? What have you got? In fact, let me tell you what I'm after, and you can tell me if you have any of them…" She reeled off a list of magical effects that she was interested in being able to create or conjure up – from being able to alter the temperature of an area around her to more powerful healing spells, the ability to summon elemental power to blast her foes or magic that would quieten the engines on the tilt-wing to a point where they couldn't be heard.

Trogdor replaced the plastic box in the small opening and hefted the stone back over the top, sealing the chamber off. It was probably a fairly effective deterrent to most people, though it was likely that Hunter or Shimazu could have shifted the stone with some effort, and working together it would have been relatively easy. He moved over a metre around the firepit and asked Tads to move back a little, then lifted another stone, pulling out a variety of spell formulas inscribed on all manner of materials. A dream-catcher with intricate bindings in differing coloured thread was adorned with feathers from a dozen different birds, all shimmering and twisting in the firelight, a powerful spell described in the geometric shapes that would remove diseases from a body. A large hide, more than a metre square was covered in intricate charcoal drawings of a storm raging over a forest, a huge lightning bolt striking down from the clouds to strike the land below. Another was painted onto a thin piece of slate, sharp scrape marks describing a spell that would quieten noise made by an object, the spell powerful enough it seems to cover a large ship, let alone something the size of their tilt-wing.

Tads carefully examined them, ignoring the handful of chips and optical disks that contained hermetic formulas and looking at only those of a shamanic nature. A lot of the spells were powerful – very powerful, and she wondered just who had inscribed the formulas. She had enough knowledge and experience to identify them, but she doubted she could have made more than half of them – and she had been taught very well by her mentors back in the tribe. It sobered her for a moment. She knew the past year had opened her eyes and taught her as much about magic as her years of apprenticeship had – but experiences like this reminded her that she still had much to learn. She spotted a manabolt spell, a means to channel pure destructive magic into the mind of a specific individual, seeking to kill them – and by her estimation it was over half as strong again as her own stun spell, which she knew would drop a room full of Mafia goons in an instant.

She asked about the price and winced as she received a quote for each of them. They were cheaper than she had expected, cheaper than she'd find spells being sold at elsewhere – but due to the sheer power and intricate nature of the formula they were still very expensive, more than they could really afford at the moment. The lightning bolt spell alone was priced at over fifteen thousand Nuyen. It would potentially drop an aircraft like their own out of the sky with a single blast… but the potential headache from the backblast of casting such a powerful spell was likely to be equally ruinous.

"Thank you. Really – I wish I could buy most of these. But I can't justify spending that kind of money at the moment. I would like to return though after we've completed our job, when funds are available. Many of these spells are… desirable."

"Sure, little lady. I can't promise they'll still be here like, but ya welcome to come and buy."

"Thank you. Did you enjoy your steak by the way? And would you like another?"

"Yeah, you can come back whenever you like. Can you do mushrooms?"

"I'll give it a try…"

Tads conjured up some more food, slowly working her way through her repertoire and crafting a banquet for the team and Trogdor to cook over the open fire. They chatted, talking about business in general and world events, things they'd heard on the news and discussions about the weather, just relaxing and enjoying their meal in the quiet of the oak forest. Other than the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional call of birds, it was peaceful and serene. Trogdor seemed relaxed with them, and as he moved around to top up their cups with more of the chilled and pure water from his jug, they got to examine him more closely. He did look fairly typical for a troll if you discounted his overall height – he was barely taller than Aswon, which though still tall was nothing compared to the average height of most trolls, let alone some of the more extreme variants they'd met in Seattle. One thing that they did notice was that both of the major horns rising from his forehead were cracked and broken – but had been inlaid with some kind of metal. They didn't pry magically, but even a casual glance showed that the metal was Orichalcum wire, the same alchemical material used to create Shimazu's magical sword or reinforce Tad's staff. It also carried some kind of health spell, the magical material sustaining the power needed to keep the spell operating and covering its host. Tads was curious, and she suspected the rest of the team were, too – but she held off asking about it, not wanting to appear rude or too inquisitive to their host or making him wonder if they had ulterior motives for asking.

Hunter had been quiet through most of the meal, barely speaking as he picked at his food without consideration, just shovelling morsels into his mouth. He was equally quiet while they chatted and drank, seemingly day-dreaming and being unresponsive to events going on around him. Only when he gave a mighty stretch nearly three hours later did they spot the translucent fibre optic cable running from his data-jack down to his deck, tucked away down the side of his jacket. The lights flickered on the deck as it disconnected from the sat-link, cutting off his matrix feed and they saw him become much more alert and cognisant of the area around him.

"Got some info on the last drop. Big wall of text coming at ya. You're gonna love some of it, Aswon." Hunter gave a sly grin at the big tribesman, then dropped the text file onto the local network, shunting it out to their communicators or pocket secretaries.

[Mount Diablo is a mountain of the Diablo Range, in Contra Costa County of the eastern San Francisco Bay Area in Northern California. It is south of Clayton and northeast of Danville.

It is an isolated upthrust peak of 1,173 meters, visible from most of the San Francisco Bay Area. Mount Diablo appears from many angles to be a double pyramid and has many subsidiary peaks, the largest and closest of which is the other half of the double pyramid, North Peak, nearly as high in elevation at 1,084 m and about a mile northeast of the main summit.

Mount Diablo is sacred to many California Native American peoples; according to Miwok mythology and Ohlone mythology, it was the point of creation. Prior to European entry, the creation narrative varied among surrounding local groups. In one surviving narrative fragment, Mount Diablo and Reed's Peak (Mount Tamalpais) were surrounded by water; from these two islands the creator Coyote and his assistant Eagle-man made Native American people and the world. In another, Molok the Condor brought forth his grandson Wek-Wek the Falcon Hero, from within the mountain.

Mount Diablo is a geologic anomaly about fifty kilometres east of San Francisco. The mountain is the result of geologic compression and uplift caused by the movements of the Earth's plates. The mountain lies between converging earthquake faults and continues to grow slowly. While the principal faults in the region are of the strike-slip type, a significant thrust fault (with no surface trace) is found on the mountain's southwest flank. The uplift and subsequent weathering and erosion have exposed ancient oceanic Jurassic and Cretaceous age rocks that now form the summit. The mountain grows from three to five millimetres each year.

The upper portion of the mountain is made up of volcanic and sedimentary deposits of what once was one or more island arcs of the Farallon Plate dating back to the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods, between 90 and 190 million years ago. During this time, the Farallon Plate was subducting beneath the North American continent. These deposits were scraped off the top and accreted onto the North American Plate. This resulted in the highly distorted and fractured basalt and serpentine of the Mount Diablo Ophiolite and metasediments of the Franciscan complex around the summit. East of the subduction zone, a basin was filling with sediment from the ancestral Sierra further to the east. Up to 18,000 m2 of sandstone, mudstone, and limestone of the Great Valley Sequence were deposited from 66 to 150 million years ago. These deposits are now found faulted against the Ophiolite and Franciscan deposits.

Each Fall, the male tarantulas of Mt. Diablo emerge from their burrows to seek mates. The "March of the Tarantulas" can begin as early as August and last through October.

The mountain's vegetation is mixed oak woodland and savannah and open grassland with extensive areas of chaparral and a number of endemic plant species, such as the Mount Diablo manzanita (Arctostaphylos auriculata), Mount Diablo fairy-lantern (Calochortus pulchellus), chaparral bellflower (Campanula exigua), Mount Diablo bird's beak (Cordylanthus nidularius), and Mount Diablo sunflower (Helianthella castanea). The volcano includes substantial thickets, isolated examples, and mixed ground cover of western poison oak. (It is best to learn the characteristics of this shrub and its toxin before hiking on narrow trails through brush and to be aware that it can be bare of leaves (but toxic to contact) in the winter.)

At higher altitudes and on north slopes is the widely distributed foothill pine (Pinus sabiniana). Knobcone pine (Pinus attenuata) may be found along Knobcone Pine Road in the southern part of the area. The mountain and nearby Black Diamond Mines Regional Preserve mark the northern extreme of the range of Coulter pine (Pinus coulteri). This species may be seen along the Coulter Pine Trail near the north (Mitchell Canyon) entrance.

In 2005 the endangered species Mount Diablo buckwheat (Eriogonum truncatum), thought to be extinct since last seen in 1936, was rediscovered in a remote area of the mountain.]

"Oh great. Critters. Want to bet they're poisonous?" Aswon grumbled.

"Probably. And if anyone's going to get bitten, it's gonna be you. But that's good – it keeps the rest of us safe!" A ripple of laughter spread around the team while Aswon made a face.

"Well, good work, Hunter – at least we have an idea of what we're heading into. I'd suggest we get some rest though, and try and make a good start in the morning." Kai stretched and then smiled at their host. "Thanks for sharing your fire with us. I'm going to turn in now, though."

"Am I permitted to put my hammock up between some of these trees?" Aswon asked. Trogdor nodded, pointing at a couple that were spaced a few metres apart at the top of the firepit area.

"Try those – they're nice and sturdy. The fire will be tended all night, and you're welcome to sleep around the fire if you wish, or return to your craft."

The team split, a few choosing to grab their gear and stretch out on the warm rocks around the firepit, while others returned aboard to bed down there, and one by one they settled down for the night, gently snoring and recuperating apart from the unfortunate team member who was currently on watch, waiting for their two-hour stint to be up.

They slept well, nothing interrupting their rest and the watch being spectacularly dull. The grove felt quiet and safe, isolated from the outside world, almost as if it operated on a different tempo. Though primitive and lacking any modern conveniences, it was restful and they all imagined it would be easy to while away the days sitting on the soft grass with their feet dangling into the river, listening to the wind rustle the leaves and the birdsong echo through the valley.

Unfortunately, they had places to go, so after their morning run and breakfast the team busied themselves with repacking their gear and supervising the fuel transfer. Trogdor dragged over a hose from one of the fuel tankers, filling them up with standard aviation fuel and then topping off the charge with the fee for the chips Aswon had selected the night before.

A little after eight, Marius started the engines up, running through the full pre-flight checklist and giving his systems plenty of time to warm up. He kept a careful eye out over each wing as the rotors built up speed, wary of debris being thrown up from the ground – but it seemed remarkably empty, almost as if he was taking off from a standard landing pad. Once the engines were up to speed, he gently lifted off and mentally twisted his body, feeling the rudders kick in as he swung around to face the river and began to slide out from under the trees and into the valley beyond, then slowly gaining altitude while he slipped sideways through the air to clear the canopy with plenty of space.

Hunter had already plotted a course, taking them south over the hills and mounts of the old national parks, giving them about a hundred and twenty kilometres of concealed flying with plenty of cover, before they broke out into the Sacramento valley for a dash of the same distance to get to Mount Diablo. The sun was still low in the sky to the east, shining across the landscape from under the grey clouds, lighting the peaks with a warm orange glow. The land was a dull brown, parched and dusty, the trees looking withered and decayed. Huge areas had been clear cut at some point leaving a sea of stumps in an irregular pattern for kilometres in all directions, allowing the weather to erode the soil and leaving vast swathes of damaged land stripped almost to the rocks. Scraggly bushes and new growth trees were trying to spread back across the land, but it was an uphill challenge, and the area looked desolate and uninviting. Still, the valleys gave excellent concealment and Marius worked his way south-west, proceeding at speed towards their turning point.

They crossed just north of the small town of San Andreas and then rocketed across New Hogan Lake, sending a few moored boats rocking in the wake as Marius buzzed over them, before he climbed into the last set of small foothills before entering the valley proper. As they crested the ridge they could see the valley laid out before them, sparkling in the morning light. Greenhouses and hydroponic facilities stretched out before them, north and south, stretching as far as they could see, thousands of acres being used to grow soy and other food crops on an industrial level. Here and there they could spot a plot of land that stuck out, the greenhouses collapsed or burnt down, the legacy of gang violence or corporate conflict. Drones moved under the canopies, applying measured and rationed water to the roots of each plant, the parched earth greedily sucking down the life-giving fluid and quickly resuming its former colour.

They were half-way across the valley, north of the town of Stockton when both Marius and Shimazu spotted something on the horizon, closing fast. Each called out the alarm, their voices overlapping on the radio.

"Alarm! Inbound air target, bearing 275, high speed. One target. Correction, four targets!"

"Strong magical ward, flying in the air. Powerful ward, around the outside of a vehicle, coming quickly!"

Marius looked around quickly, trying to spot for some cover – the best he could see was a small plot of land that was covered in trees rather than the almost omnipresent greenhouses, and he started to steer that way.

The targets ahead grew quickly, very quickly, taking on the form of sleek jet-fighters. One was ahead of the others by nearly ten kilometres, the chasing flight of three tightly grouped together into a chevron. Powerful air-search radar and other sensors filled the air with strobes of energy, while jamming systems made Marius's display wobble and fill with static. He felt the sensors probe at him, fingers of energy stroking across his skin, lightly caressing him but sliding off his own deceptions systems. Then a pulse caught him, a definite probe – they knew he was here, though probably not what he was.

The effect was immediate – the lead fighter broke hard, pulling up and starboard in a turn that saw the pilot pulling seven or eight gees, rising up into the air on a pillar of fire as his afterburner dumped raw fuel into the exhaust. The sharp manoeuvre let his pursuers close on him rapidly, but gained several thousands of metres of altitude in only a few seconds. Marius felt more probes touching him, as the trailing fighters also picked him up on their sensors – much like the first, his deception systems were sending all kinds of false signals back so they almost certainly only had a faint blob on their screens, a ghost-like possible contact and nothing more.

They too broke, pulling hard up and port. Marius looked at the situation, trying to imagine what was going through their heads – maybe they thought he was with the first aircraft, and that if they pursued it, he would be in a position to come in on their tail, ambushing them neatly. He had no idea who they were, or the first plane that they'd been intent on following, but clearly they were not friendly.

"All four of these aircraft are warded, pretty powerfully," Shimazu called out, one hand steadying the headset to keep everything in focus while the other was wrapped around the grip of his sword. "I can see through it, just – they're jet fighters, but I don't know what kind. Pretty big, with swept wings. The front one has a twin tail, but the three behind had single tails, and a big mouth under the front. And I think they've got missiles under their wings."

No sooner had he managed to get the words out where they confirmed as the lead plane of the second group loosed a pair of missiles, streaking from under port and starboard wing and twisting sharply once clear of the launching plane to go after the first contact. Their powerful rocket motors accelerated them to beyond Mach 3 and they shot through the sky leaving a trail of white smoke behind them. The fighter they had shot at had twisted in the air sharply, rolling down on one wing and dove towards the ground, launching both chaff and flares behind him. One missile sailed into the cloud of metallic ribbons in mid-air and detonated, but the second managed a turn and followed him, the plane and missile hammering down towards the deck. And the tilt-wing.

Marius arced backwards, spinning his engines into the upright position and killing his forward motion as fast as he could, then lowered himself down until he was only a few metres from the ground. He saw the fighter pull up as it neared the ground, pumping out more chaff behind it as it streaked across the valley floor on full afterburner, the sonic shockwave shattering windows and ripping open hydroponic facilities in its wake. The missile lost lock and sailed through the chaff cloud, not finding a valid target to arm its warhead, and popped out the other side. The rocket motor had burnt out, and the speed dropped quickly, but it was still travelling better than Mach 2, the tiny seeker head looking for its prey and adjusting the control surfaces to stay airborne and carry out its programming.

With no speed, he had no chance of avoiding the missile through acrobatics – but he had little chance anyway against a full spec military missile – helicopters were feared by most land vehicles in armed warfare for their ability to suddenly appear, deliver death and then drop down behind cover again – but they in turn feared jet fighters, the apex predators of the sky. The tilt-wing was fast, blindingly fast compared to most choppers, but it was still far short of the sound barrier, and most jets would chase it down with embarrassing ease. Though he was a large metallic target, Marius was counting on two things – his electronic deception gear would mask his signature and send out confusing returns, disguising what he was for one, and secondly the attack profile that was loaded into the missile. No doubt it had been configured for a 'fast' target, a jet fighter, and the base parameters were set for a target that could perform certain manoeuvres and react in a certain way. And one thing that nearly all jet fights did badly was travel slowly, with very few having VTOL capacity. So as long as he sat still, close to the ground, there was a good chance he'd be classified as a truck, a barn, a house – anything but a hostile vehicle.

The missile streaked past them, getting lower and lower to the ground before it unfortunately slammed into a building a few kilometres to the east, the warhead detonating and the explosion ripping apart one corner of the house, sending a fireball up into the air. Marius eased back up into the air, mostly so his sensors could see what was going on and work out if there was likely to be any more missiles being thrown around.

He spotted the first plane, low and fast, heading north towards Sacremento, having reefed into another tight and high-gee turn, and heading in the opposite direction to where Marius had expected to see him. The group of three planes had clearly reached the same equally wrong conclusion, as they were flying south, swinging around now but having lost precious time and distance as they turned the wrong way in pursuit of their target. All three of them hammered past the tilt-wing on full afterburner too, trying to catch up with the lead plane, who was now more than twenty kilometres clear. A few seconds later, they were gone, disappearing over the horizon, leaving nothing behind except thousands of shattered plastic panes and ripped plastic, torn vegetation and one house burning merrily, sending a cloud of black smoke into the air.

"Resuming course. Hunter, please check back through the footage and see if you can make sense of those readings, find out what was going on."

"Roger that!" Hunter pulled the footage from the tilt-wing, importing it onto his deck and firing up his tools, then checking back through the visual feeds to isolate the clearest frames he could find. He ran the images through his photo editing application, trying to sharpen the image and mask out the details, generating a rough size by scaling from the cockpit. With some base data and a silhouette of the fighter, he could then run a quick data search on the matrix, trying to find some matches.

"Ok – got some info. I think the lead fighter craft was an Ares Penetrator fifteen, or something that looks very similar. Twin autocannon and advanced nap-of-the-earth flight computer, can carry up to seven external missiles. Very competent sensor package, and top end military counter-measures."

"Ja. I think we can safely say their counter-measures are more than competent. That pilot managed to spoof a pair of radar guided missiles with what looks like relative ease. What about the other fighters?"

"Mitsubishi Fx-4 general purpose fighters. Single engine, multi-role aircraft, also missile-armed and with good sensors and counter-measure suites. High thrust to weight ratio, but not quite as fast by the looks of this data. Yeah, they've all that that big air-intake under the cockpit area."

"So, likely to be used by one of the Japanese mega-corps – Renraku, Mitsuhama, Shiawaise. Maybe Yamatetsu, though I think we have to consider them Russian now, though they are likely to retain their old equipment and assets. But who is going to be using an Ares jet?"

"Given where we are, it's a good bet that's its Ares themselves – they've got a pretty massive presence in Silicon Valley, and that's only about a hundred klicks from us. So it might be a corporate security jet rather than UCAS or Cal-Free government or something. Or just a response to the Jap-corps having jets of their own in their security forces."

"Whatever the reason, we should be careful and minimise the time we spend in the area. If corporate tensions are high enough for them to be shooting at each other, we do not want to get caught in the crossfire."

"Not going to argue with you there, Marius. Fifty six point four klicks to the mountain, ETA six minutes twenty seconds. At least this one is low enough we can fly to the top, then we just need to dangle Aswon out of the door as bait for the spiders while we find somewhere to stash the thingy."

"HEY!"

The bickering that followed filled the six minutes to the mountain, and they approached the top of Mount Diablo, Marius swinging wide of his course so they could orbit a little and get some sensor readings and a visual on the situation.

"Well, at least we have somewhere we could land – that car-park looks more than big enough, and there's only two cars there. No sign of magical activity or presence." Shimazu called out, checking through the viewing prism carefully. "Looks to be about two hundred metres below the summit, and if that's where the centre of the drop zone is, we can land in the car park and just drop it out the door. Or hide it under a rock or something."

"But there's cars there – that means people near by?" Tads asked.

"Might be the best place then – if the cars are here, it's possible the people are up on the mountain somewhere hiking. Or talismongering. Or hiding the bodies… who knows." Hunter added the last comment with a smirk, knowing that Tads' imagination would immediately latch onto that as a possibility.

"We could put it down here, but with it being a car-park, I'm a little worried about other traffic. Maybe something we should have considered in Japan as well, though at least we had the priestess on side there. How about we fly up towards the peak a little, and look for somewhere off the path, where it's less likely to be disturbed?" Aswon gestured towards the peak and Marius swung around the car-park and visitor centre and headed up the mountain a little more. It took less than a minute to find a shallow ravine leading down from the peak with a withered tree jutting out from it, the branches forked and providing a suitable place to wedge the token. Dropping into a hover, it took less than thirty seconds for Tads to cast her levitate spell and send Shimazu floating serenely over to the tree to plant the last of the tokens, then recover him back into the chopper. As the door slid shut, Marius banked over and started to head back east, retracing their steps.

Eight forty-seven, on Saturday the second of October, and finally their mission for the two 'old men' was done – and with nearly a week in hand until the deadline. They were not in any measurable sense in a 'safe place', but still it was a relief to be done with the task that had seen them travel over fifteen thousand kilometres, sending them to parts of the world none of them had ever visited before.

They flew back roughly the same way they had come, although Marius swung wider around Stockton on the way back, staying well away from the area where the missile had come down. The cloud of black smoke rose up still from the house, though he could just make out the blue and red flashing lights of emergency vehicles nearby, presumably trying to bring the blaze under control.

Once they were back into the mountains and sliding through the valleys, Kai got his phone hooked into the aircraft systems and linked up to the sat-phone, then dialled the number he'd been given all those weeks before. As it started to ring he suddenly gulped and remembered that there was likely to be a time difference… if it was nine in the morning here, that made it about… he blanked for a moment wondering if the date line made much difference, before realising that it wouldn't matter for the time, only the day, then tensed as he realised it was about two in the morning, remembering how grumpy his contact had been when he'd forgotten previously. It was too late now though – the call was already made and ringing at the far end.

"Hello?" The voice was speaking English but with a Japanese accent, the woman's voice soft but sounding cultured and welcoming.

"Good evening. Or rather morning. I apologise for calling so late. My name is Kai, and I'm just calling to confirm successful completion of a mission. We are awaiting further instructions."

"Please hold one moment, sir." The call wasn't put on hold, and Kai could just make out the sounds in the background over the engine noise coming into his other ear. It reminded him of ledger books, massive tomes with hundreds of huge pages used for historical accounting. Pages turned and then the voice came back on the line. "Thank you for waiting, sir. If your task is complete, I am authorised to release payment. How would you like to receive this?"

"Well, err…. We're going to be in Seattle in a couple of days. Would we be able to get paid there?"

"That will be no issue sir. We have factors in that city who can meet with you to arrange payment. Where would you like to arrange for the transfer?"

"I'm not sure – we don't know the city well. Can I call back once we have found somewhere?"

"Certainly, that will be most acceptable."

"Is there a reference or anything I need to quote when I call?"

"No sir. Please just let the operator know that it is Mr. Kai calling."

"Thank you then. Have a good night."

"And a very pleasant night to you, sir." Kai disconnected and then called forward to Hunter.

"Can we make it to Seattle in one hop?"

"Realistically, no. We need to stop at Bust, and take on about five hundred litres of fuel to top the tanks off, then we can just make it back in one go. That's still a bit dicey mind, as we've got almost no reserve."

"Ok, I'll call ahead to Bust then, but that's my plan – fuel stop, then get back up north and get our pay sorted out."

"We may want to consider staying at the smuggler stop for the day, Kai, and travelling north at night – it will make our border crossings easier."

"Ahh, ok – good call. We'll do that then."

Kai called ahead, telling Trogdor they were on the way back and would be landing in a few minutes, then sat back and stared into space, replaying the conversation with the operator in his head. He didn't think he'd detected any kind of duplicity or hesitation in their voice, and there didn't seem to be anything to worry about…

The landing at Bust was uneventful, Marius sliding them in under the canopy of towering oaks with ease in the light, setting down in the same spot. They fuelled up first, paying another two thousand eight hundred Nuyen to fill the tanks and then headed over to the fire pit again to sit with their host. The fire was much smaller, just a few logs slowly burning away over a bed of coals, with a blackened kettle hanging over the flames slowly heating some water.

Having paid for the fuel, and with the knowledge that pay awaited them back in Seattle, Tads asked to see the range of spell formula again and appraise them. Trogdor was happy to dig out the shamanic formula, carefully laying them out on the stones around the firepit for Tads to examine, and both Aswon and Shimazu looked on with curiosity to see the wide variety of forms and materials used in the different formulas.

After much contemplation, Tads had sorted the spells into three piles. In the first were three formula – a small painting on a rabbit hide that contained a spell that would dampen sound on an item, a large piece of slate upon which was scratched a picture of a tree growing with deep roots that would allow her to remove a disease from someone's system, and a woven shawl that when studied and learnt would allow her to refresh and revitalise how a person looked.

The second pile contained much larger pieces, one that would allow her to alter the temperature of an area – which having seen demonstrated now seemed much more useful given how often they spent time out in the wilds – while the second was a variation on her healing spell. It was more powerful, but time limited, working only on fresh wounds rather than older injuries as well. But, as a consequence of being time-limited, it drew on the mana in a less harsh manner, and should be easier for her to cope with the backlash and draining effects of spellcasting.

Lastly there was a single piece, a complex and intricately designed Dreamcatcher with tens of thousands of knots between the brightly coloured threads forming a small scene depicting a bolt of power arcing through the sky. The mana-bolt spell was powerful, more powerful than anything she currently knew, but would be a good tool against any living target or spirit, and completely useless against anything inert or dead, like a vehicle or building. It would require a serious investment of time and effort to learn, but would give her a powerful weapon to use against magical attackers – and of course could always be sold on to other people if she decided she didn't need the formula any more. And unlike Aslick, she couldn't see a problem with 'second-hand' formula and was pretty sure she could find a buyer.

The first pile of formulas would cost less than four-thousand Nuyen, while the second were just over five thousand – but it was the last that was the issue, with the single mana-bolt spell adding over nine thousand Nuyen to the price. It was the most powerful of them all though – though not as high as some that Trogdor had for sale. The Lightning Bolt spell in particular was the most intricate, demanding and honestly a little frightening she'd ever seen. While she let the decision percolate in her mind, she decided to ask him about them.

"I think I've got a selection there. I'm curious, though. Did you design all these yourself?"

"Oh no, not at all. Some of them I did, made them here using the materials I could find." He gestured towards some of the spells that featured inscribed chunks of bark or interwoven leaves, vines and twigs. "But the rest have been purchased from other passing mages, or…other sources."

"I thought so – there's just such a wide variety of designs and mediums. Back in my tribe, most spells are designed using what we have to hand from the forest – so much like you and your designs, but with things like antlers and teeth added to the mix. But the stones and weaving and other things… some of them I don't recognise at all."

"I'd be surprised if you did, some of the people that pass through here have such wildly different view on magic. But it all seems to work. And look what can be achieved with a little dedication." He smiled at her and waved around – and Tads wasn't sure if he was gesturing at the spell formula, or the forest around her.

"Right, I think I've made a decision – I'll take the first two stacks please. I don't think we have enough spare funds that I'm happy using them all up for just one spell. As nice as it is."

"I understand. I've often wondered why the spells that can deal the most deadly damage are so hard to design, as well as to cast – but on the whole I think that's generally a good thing, or we'd probably all be in a much worse position."

Tads collected her spells, grabbing the credstick from Kai and transferring over another 9310 Nuyen to Trogdor's ivory coloured credstick. When the transaction was done, he connected it back to a leather thong, and tucked it down inside his shirt.

"Hey there, Trogdor!" Kai called out as he climbed over the top of the shallow mound and flopped down onto the stones. "I just had a thought… all this natural stuff around. I don't suppose you've got any archery equipment, have you? Long staves for making arrows, or seasoned timber for making bow limbs?"

"No, I don't have anything like that. I mean, I suppose I could look through the deadfall, and find some straight sections maybe. But the limbs tend to grow as they want, bends and crooks and all."

"No problem – I just thought it was worth asking. So Tads – what have you got there?"

The conversation shifted as Tads worked through the formula, explaining what each one did and how it would be used to help the team, or in what circumstances it would be most useful. While they were chatting, Shimazu slipped away from the group, heading back to the tilt-wing. He returned about twenty minutes later, smelling vaguely of soap and looking freshly shaved, and wearing a new top.

The rest of the team found things to do, too – maintenance on their weapons, checking up on the news, reading articles on their PDAs or continuing to teach Vadim more about the casting of spells and the design of formula. The day passed smoothly enough, and not long before dusk they got packed up and ready to head out. Hunter had the course laid in, and it was almost a reverse of the one they had taken down – only the leg around Mount Rainier was different, giving the volcano a wide berth on the return route.

As the sun dropped below the western ridgeline, they started the engines, waving goodbye to Trogdor and sealing the hatches. Marius lifted off and slid out from under the trees, then headed down the valley, smoothly picking up speed and heading for the Ute border, which proved to be just as porous heading east as it was heading west. The seven hundred kilometres of the Ute nation they crossed through was just as quiet heading north as it had been south, but they became more tense as they reached the border with the Salish. This time, though, Marius managed to slide through the border like a hot knife through butter, with nothing picking up their passing.

The clouds broke up as they headed across the Salish tribal lands, the moonlight rippling off the solar farms and rivers alike, painting the ground with silvery threads, but by sticking to the more rural areas they avoided patrols and trouble, heading up towards Spokane and then turning sharply west to approach Seattle through the Cascade Mountains north of Leavenworth. As they crossed the higher passes they saw the occasional four wheel drive vehicle, but nothing came of it – so it was likely it was the Cascade Orks running goods across the border themselves rather than Salish border guards on patrol.

Finally after one thousand, six hundred and fifty kilometres of flying, they crossed into the Metroplex into the Redmond Barrens, watching as the landscape beneath them turned into a ruined hellhole. Fires studded the ground in a thousand places as homeless families gathered around oil drums, burning whatever they could find to keep warm in the night. Packs of feral dogs ran wild, hunting other critters and lone humans, whilst in the darker areas toxic spirits and ghouls lurked, visible only for a moment before they scuttered away into the darkness. The shattered towers of the ruined nuclear reactor dominated the centre of the area, and the space around it seemed to have a malevolent aura all of its own, astral space polluted with a sickly green tinge and a feeling of the very air sapping and tugging at the aura.

They left the desolate walled off zone of the city, crossing into Snohomish and even the mass hydroponic banks and intensively farmed fields were welcome after the polluted wasteland that was the Barrens, but that flashed underneath them quickly too, turning into the sprawling endless kilometres of urban spread, houses and industrial estates, manufacturing plants, businesses and small plots of jealously guarded parks that made up the sprawl.

Kai had called ahead on the journey, and Rad was waiting with a few of the local runners as they touched down, just before one in the morning, helping them roll the bird into the covered area once more.

"So chummers, you weren't gone long! I mean, you can claim to love the big city, sure, but we all know you just wanted to come and hang out with me, right?"

"Of course, Rad, that's right. I mean…what's not to love?"

Rad beamed at Kai, either not picking up on the sarcasm, or just choosing to ignore it, while the team climbed out of the tilt-wing and stretched, getting the blood moving again after the seven hour flight.

"So other than my awesome company – what'dya need?"

"Well, we need to meet up with someone to get paid – and then we need shopping. Lots and lots of shopping."

"And time in the workshop, too!" Marius added, somewhat annoyed with Kai for not having his priorities right.

"Yeah, that too. But we're likely to be around for a week or so, if that's ok? Obviously we'll pay for parking…"

"Null sheen Kai. Null sheen."