In memory,
much of the next portion of that night smears together. What the
mist-things had said about time was true - on the meters back in my
apartmment, where we sat in our ugly reclining chairs, the registry
read out that we spend just over an hour dreaming. For much of that
time, we shot from one pillar to another, collecting. We stopped
only when Ray had `pulled in` a total of seven heroic types from
various pillars - I don't think I can remember their names, though
remember that there was at least one Firefighter among them, whose
outfit had made me think more "male stripper and less "actual
firefighter". By that point, we had decided to see if we could
do a little damage.
Let me
rephrase that. By that point, we weren't just considering a fight;
we were spoiling for one. We'd come to have some sense of how the
nightkind would slowly consume portions of the pillars they latched
onto, and devour those memories to creat their obscene hives. Ray
wondered aloud what their minds were becoming – if those who had
been preyed upon in this way ever did wake up, what would that mean?
We threw a
few plans of attack around, half-heartedly – we didn't want to just
charge the nearest hive and die. After a little discussion, Gina had
a few thoughts about combat preparation. To test them, we slipped
down off the hillside where the pillars stood were, and Gina started
trying to reshape that area. She found that while she could tear up
the landscape with curses, she couldn't create anything. And
concentration let her call up vehicles or buildings, but she could
only maintain one at a time, with concentration.
So she
created a Navy Destroyer that she'd toured in Boston. The USS Cassin
Young, parked part-buried in the grass as if it were in the water.
Bits of it faded in and out of existence as her concentration
wavered, but we went up the ramp, and she spent some time walking up
and down the length of it, and it slowly came solid. She couldn't
get the guns to traverse, though, never mind to fire - so she waved a
hand at each to erase it off the deck.
As she did
all this, I ran a quick test to see how I could do at summoning up
such stuff. I could create a jetski I'd rented once, it turned out,
as well as a motor scooter I'd considered buying. Nothing else at
that size that I could think of would solidify for me; just flickers
in the air.
You are
not a conjurer, Benjamin. Leave it be.
"Conjurer,
eh? That's her talent, is it now?" I muttered to Ulla.
Conjurer,
yes. And Sorcerer, though that is a matter of study rather than of
talent. Just as your friend Raymond has a talent as a Summoner. It
is because of how they see the world; they have trained these gifts
all their lives, though they did not know it.
"And
I'm a fitting companion for a magical cat."
To bond
with a totem. You were right to call me an Animal Guide before; I
have filled that role many times, over the years. Think to the
legends of your people, for what that might mean.
"All....
Right. So, is there a real cat somewhere, dreaming you?"
Not one.
Many. Or, you might say, I make myself anew each moment and use the
dreams and lives of cats in your waking world to do so. But enough;
your battlefield is near to ready.
I jogged
back up onto the deck, which was now littered with copies of the same
machine gun that had been on the back of the earlier jeep, and of an
antique anti-aircraft gun.
"I
dunno if it'll work, coz, but it's what I got. Now we just need to
get those bastards down here."
And that,
Benjamin, is where we come in.
Echoing that
sentiment "I got that end, Gina. Bait, I can do."
It got me
killed, actually. But one thing I had figured out how to conjure up,
trying to create a boat, was the emergency kit – including flare
guns. I tucked a dozen of them into my belt, slipped up the slope
into the midst of the pillars, and started firing them into nests.
There were some pretty fires blossoming above, and some furious
nightkind swarms boiling into the sky, as I started my run for the
ship.
Much as I
had managed to slide to a halt in spectacular style earlier, I bolted
out fast enough to tear the turf, and just kept accelerating. When
I hit the start of the serious downward slope, I made a wild leap
out. Ulla, beside me, jumped as well. As we flew out, the air
around us exploded; a storm of upward-sheeting weapons fire, the
roaring of guns manned by Ray's phantom squad. Ulla and I hit the
deck, and turned. I had a moment to watch the hail of the dying
nightkind falling behind us, before the stooping force hammered into
me, and I woke.
While I was
still catching my breath, and trying to estimate just how sore I was
going to be all day, Gina spasmed and woke. As she lifted her head,
Ray began to seize; I heard one of his ribs crack as he twisted. He
arched up, dropped back down, and as Gina and I jumped to our feet,
and moved to hold him, he relaxed again and began breathing normally.
I checked
his signs "He's going back into normal sleep; not dreaming
anymore. Give him a minute; he'll be good, except for whatever he
already hurt."
"Jesus.
What the hell do you think that was?" Gina asked, pale,
double-checking his vitals.
"Dunno.
I take it the fight went sour pretty fast?"
"Not
that fast. We got that first wave, that caught you, and were racking
up the death count pretty hard. They caught on, and split up, coming
at us from all over instead of in swarms. They went straight through
the hull to get me."
"Damn."
Ray started
to wake, moaning. We gave him some time. A minute or so later, he
opened one eye, the skin around it already purpling.
"Only a
few of them left, now. They had a leader. Big. Tore me up –
while he was dying. Abe got him; he got me."
He slumped
back into unconsciousness, then, as the bruises darkened on his face.
And he smiled; the twisted smile joy wears when it's wrestling with
pain.
Gina dressed
him for outside, and drove him down to the hospital, and checked him
in. She was sure he'd been mugged, she told them. They'd had a
date, and it had gone on late, you know, and he'd gone out for
something, then stumbled back looking like this. She told me to stay
home; we were going to be stealing the next night, and best if people
didn't immediately think of me when "anything strange" was
asked, as a question.
