With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Twelve)

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
12:35 GMT

"Kaldur?"

"I won't dance with you. I-I won't. I won't."

Solid yellow. He's shivering. And that was a contraction. He doesn't use contractions when he speaks English. And he turned me down when I said he could speak Greek to me if he wanted. Dancing..? Okay, I don't think I've ever seen him dance before…

I make what I hope is a calming gesture with my hands, smiling at him. "Kaldur. What's wrong? Please, I want to-."

His eyes widen as he sees my hands. He's staring at.. the rings? Oh, does he think I'm pointing a weapon at him?

"Rings pulled from the fingers of the dead."

"No, John's still alive and I never found out where the first one came from. Kaldur, what are you talking about?"

Kaldur's hands drop to his… That's where he normally keeps his Water Bearers. He left them back in the Cheesewringer but it looks like he can't focus well enough through the fear to realise that. Um, okay, Spell Eater out of subspace. Rob and Tula… Heart rates increasing, twitching and quite a lot of yellow. I could force the first two to stop but I'm not sure what the knock on effect on their wandering spirits would be. I don't really want to-.

"You will not take me! I will not be bacon!"

What?

"Rrrraaaagh!" Kaldur thrusts his arms forwards and water precipitates out of the air around me as ice crystals. He just tried to freeze me. That.. might have actually killed me without the Spell Eater. Shit.

"My teeth are mine alone!"

What the hell is he talking about?!

His tattoos are glowing brightly. I'd say whatever cover we had is well and truly blown-. Shit, his freeze effect is dropping Rob and Tula's temperature as well! Sorry Kaldur. I generate manacle constructs and grab his wrists, dragging his arms behind his back.

"No! No!"

The glow of his tattoos sort of.. moves, and then my manacles fall apart. Fortification. Darn it, I hoped he was too out of it to remember that. After those Nanauvian soldiers showed that some defensive magics could turn aside constructs Kaldur worked hard to learn how to do that himself. Otherwise I'd be even shorter on sparring partners than I am already. Bloody inconvenient now, though. All my easy KO options just stopped working.

Right then, gas-. No, hang on. If he's getting this fear from Rob, then he's still connected. Still indicating to Rob where his physical body is. If I knock him out, would that interrupt it? Kaldur lunges at me with his right fist aimed at my face. I float backwards out of the way. His eyes remain fixed on me, ignoring our slumbering team mates. Okay, restrain him without knocking him out or blocking his magic. Lightning crackles from his hands, leaping at me and forcing me to raise a construct to intercept it. Without his Water Bearers forming a link his electrical attacks are rather inefficient and not all that-. I raise another barrier around Rob as a spark goes astray and nearly electrocutes him.

Okay. A barbell comes out of subspace and smacks Kaldur in the diaphragm. "Oof!" Then I slam it into his chest and shove him back. Think. He isn't reacting to my voice, and is only reacting to my general presence. Hallucinating? But he's not seeing his fears. He talked to me about what he saw when Mathew Hayden used the Medusa Mask on him. It magnified the strangeness of the surface world and intensified his worry about not being worthy of King Orin. It didn't make him afraid of being turned into bacon.

Where the heck did that come from?

Kaldur starts to recover, building another electrical charge for a larger blast. Maybe if I remove the stimuli? I use the bar to try and drag him back, but he grabs hold of it and his fortification effect breaks my link. Right, okay. Alternating from one weight to another I drive him backwards in a series of blows that are sure to leave a mark tomorrow. He probably won't feel it until tomorrow, but strong as he is he still has to deal with physics! Yeah, would have been too much to hope that he'd snap out of it once I got him outside the stone circle. A last blow causes him to turn to his side and I return the weights to subspace and replace them with a titanium chain. Careful not to let my construct attachments touch him I wrap as much of it around his arms, legs and chest as I can before wrapping what's left around the granite pillar and welding it closed. Alright, all he can see now is empty fields and he'll struggle to get through the chains with any spells I know about him knowing.

"Help. Someone, please. Help me."

Still solid yellow. His breathing is rapid and shallow. Tula and Rob… Steadily getting worse… Crap, I don't want to call in Nabu already. Where did Garth..? Great, I can't see him. I pull my phone out of my jacket, thumb to my contacts list and press the button for Beryl.

It rings twice before she picks it up. "Anything happen yet, or are you so bored-?"

"Yes. They had a massive fear response. Kaldur became insensible and violent. I've had to tie him to a granite standing stone with titanium chain. Garth's legged it and the rings can't find him." I scan the horizons on the off chance my eyes can succeed where the xenotech hypercomputers have fail-. Yeah okay, I can't even finish thinking that. "Any ideas?"

"What's happening to Rob and Tula?"

"Their bodies appear to be going through a fear response, but they're both insensible."

"Do you know what triggered it?"

"No. They were deep inside the system, but it didn't kick in immediately."

"Captain Cornwall said he only felt it when he connected to someone who was already dreaming."

"I don't think Rob fell asleep." I check, just in case. "No."

"But if we work on the idea that it only starts getting all weird when someone has a nightmare-."

"Someone's having a nightmare now."

"Best I can think of. I'm nearly back in the village now. If you give me a sec-."

"Got a flash bang?"

"Not exactly. I'll get on this, you make sure Garth doesn't hurt himself."

Still no one around. He ran.. away from Kaldur, who seems content shivering in his chains. Ring, infrared. Nothing. Hm. Ring, analyse patterns of depression in the grass and soil. Ah! There we go. He's hiding behind one of the stones of the northern circle-.

The sound of an air raid siren pierces the air, coming from the direction of Minions. I don't know how she did that, but if anyone could sleep through that… Ring, sonic scan of Garth. Give me some idea what he's doing. He.. looks like he's drumming. Drumming and dancing, is there a theme here that I'm missing? I can't really see him very well, but it looks almost like he's doing it reluctantly. I see him bring his imaginary drumstick down, then he throws himself backwards! What? What? I grab him with a construct straitjacket and pull him over. He just fell onto grass, why is he unconscious? Ah heck, how are Tula and Rob-. Oh, thank goodness. The yellow light is fading and from the looks of it they're getting closer to their bodies. Kaldur… Kaldur appears to have lost consciousness as well, but his vitals are steady.

I pick up the phone again. "Beryl-."

"WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW-"

"Beryl, knock it off!"

"-WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW-"

"You say something?!"

"Turn it off!" There's a pause, and the siren cuts out. "Kaldur's unconscious and something weird's happened to Garth. Get to the Cheesewringer and open a window. I'll transition everyone back as soon as you're ready."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
12:47 GMT

"I appreciate your concern-" Garth tries gently pushing Beryl away, but she isn't having any of it. "-but this is not necessary."

She looks at him, her face a picture of scepticism. "Garth, you're shaking like a leaf."

He nods as a new round of tremors passes through him. "Shock and.. the adrenaline remaining in my system. It will pass."

She turns away for a moment and picks up the mug of tea from the bedside cabinet. "Here. Get this down you."

Garth hesitates, then realises that it might be the only way to make her back off and takes it from her. "Thank you."

Tula and Rob haven't woken up quite yet, but as far as we can tell they're back in their bodies. Just dealing with the shock by going unconscious. "Beryl, where did you get an air raid siren from?"

She gives me a half-smile. "I didn't, but I packed a wicked sound system."

Kaldur sits up slightly, wincing as he does so. "A most fortuitous decision."

"Are you.. alright?"

"I believe that the English expression is 'I will live'."

Beryl gives him a quick look over, a decision not at all motivated by his bare torso. "So… What happened? Everything was going fine, then..?"

Kaldur looks down for a moment, then shakes his head. "I cannot clearly remember. The.. shock was so overwhelming… Everything else…"

"Then what exactly did you see? What did you think was going on? You said.. that you weren't bacon and didn't want to dance." I shake my head and shift my expression to one of bemusement. "Bit of an odd thing to be afraid of."

"I.. was.. convinced that…" He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "I was being pursued by a bestial man-like creature. I knew that.. if he caught me-."

Beryl's eyes widen as she works something out. "He'd cut you up and sell your body as black market bacon."

Kaldur looks concerned. "I had not realised that you were affected as well."

"I wasn't. That's Bombsite Bill!"

"Is he known to British authorities?"

"Only the really old ones. It's an urban legend -one of the ones that are legends, not one of the accurate ones- about… Well, depends who's telling it. Usually a gypsy or something, who's supposed to have lived in London during the Blitz."

Garth tilts his head slightly to the side. "Blitz?"

"The period of the Second World War where the Germans decided that they weren't going to launch a land invasion of Britain and so switched from using their air force to suppress the British air force to using it to firebomb civilian targets. London was particularly hard hit." I shrug. "Though we went on to do exactly the same thing to them."

"Meat got rationed during the war, so the legend says that Bill used to go to bombsites before the Wardens and took people's bodies, cut them up and sold them as bacon. He'd dress in dead people's clothes and steal their jewellery-" Garth starts trembling again and Kaldur does a sort of whole body clench as he tries to keep himself together. "-and knock out their gold-filled teeth with a half-burned brick!"

She's getting too into this. "Beryl."

"And he plays a tune on unexploded bombs with Human thigh bones, and anyone who heard him-"

"Beryl."

"-would have to go and dance with him." She rolls her eyes. "Daft, is what it is. I mean, he's just supposed to be a big ugly bloke, right? Any of us could take him in a fight if he was actually real."

"Spontaneous.. manifestations of fictional things can happen, but I didn't see anything real."

Kaldur shakes his head. "Neither Garth nor I had heard of this 'urban legend' before today. This was not a simple attempt to inspire fear in us specifically."

"Kaldur, you don't have some sort of dance or bacon related phobia you haven't told anyone about, do you?"

"I do not. If I were forced to guess, I would say that we experienced it as someone who was very much afraid of Bombsite Bill would have done."

Beryl thinks for a moment. "It's not exactly a commonly known about thing. I only know about it from Granddad's ghost stories. I don't think anyone in Minions was in London during the Blitz, so I doubt it came from anyone local." She thinks for a moment. "I'm not sure though. I could check."

"I do not think that it matters. Whoever it was, they were not the cause of what we experienced."

"You don't think it's… Krieger, do you? The Medusa Mask…"

Kaldur looks doubtful. "Mathew Hayden used the Mask to inspire fear during our last battle. It magnified my own fears. It did not show me those of other people."

"Right, but Hayden was a thief who got lucky. Krieger is a legitimate sorcerer in his own right, and we never did find out what really happened to him." I shrug. "If he opened a portal back from.. Asgard, or wherever he ended up…"

Beryl shakes her head. "This isn't really his style. I mean, I could see him using the ley line network to try and spread fear across Britain, but we know he can't because the network got broken up. And if we know that, he'd spot it as soon as he tried anything."

I shake my head. "A cancer monster I could understand, but.. Bombsite Bill is really specific-."

Kaldur looks at me. "Cancer monster?"

"That was what Sir Cyril saw. I could see the.. yellow shape inside him, when he was talking about it. I could understand if the fear came from someone else who was dreaming, but that isn't what happened. That just.. creates the circuit."

Garth looks downcast. "And now the four of us are viable targets in our own right."

Kaldur nods. "That may well be the case. However, our mission here has not changed. Beryl, find out where the new standing stones came from. Perhaps they came into contact with some malevolent influence before reaching here."

Beryl pulls over a chair and sits down, activating her arm computer. "I'll get on that right away. Not too many places supply granite standing stones."

"Paul, please remain here with Tula and Robert. Let me know the moment they awaken." I nod as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. "Garth, you and I will go for a walk. I want to know how far the area being affected by.. whatever it is inhabiting the ley lines, extends. And I think the exercise will do us both some good."

Garth nods and finishes his tea before returning his mug to the bedside table. "I think you are right." He stands, turns and bends to kiss Tula on the forehead. "Sleep well."

She doesn't react. Kaldur dons his coat and Garth follows him out of the room.

"What's going on there then?"

"The three of them became friends at the Atlantean Conservatory of Sorcery. When Kaldur became King Orin's student he spent less and less time with them… He was in love with Tula but was too busy to really do anything about it, and she got together with Garth."

"Huh."

"He was okay with it, but spending time around them while they're being all together is a bit awkward for him."

"I can imagine."

"Got anything?"

"I know where they got the original rock from and where English Heritage bought them from. It's the bit in the middle that's going to take the time."

"Well…" I exhale. "We're in no position to try that again anytime soon. No need to rush."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
13:22 GMT

I push open the door to my room and wave the paper bag containing lunch at Beryl. "Unironically-."

"Pasties." She sets her computer aside and holds out her right hand as I come over and offer her the bag. "Think it would help Rob wake up if we held it under his nose?"

I glance at him. He and Tula are still out, but I'm not going to start worrying for another couple of hours. "I think it would be best to just let them sleep."

She rolls her eyes as she pulls out a pasty. "I was joking. Hey, do they do that 'jam in the corner' thing here?"

"I have no idea. It'll be a surprise." I take a seat and pull out my own pasty before setting the bag aside for when the others wake up. "Have you made any progress?"

She nods and swallows. "A bit. The stones didn't come straight here from the quarry. It looks like English Heritage picked them up in a receivership sale, only there's no record of what company was going bankrupt. The money went to the receiver."

"What debt was being settled?"

She shrugs. "Without a direct link to their server that's about as far as I can go that way." Her eyes narrow a little. "Unless..?"

"Ring, let the magical hacking commence."

A glowing orange line connects her laptop to the ring. "Magical hacking enabled."

"Right then." She reaches for the keyboard with her left hand as she takes another mouthful of pasty. "Urt. Ur-urt. Uh."

"Well?"

She frowns, chews, then swallows. "It doesn't say."

"Oh."

"No, that's weird. Their own system doesn't have a record of who it was sold for."

"I don't really know much about UK bankruptcy law."

"Short version, a company's assets can be seized to cover its debts. Receivers are the people who decide how to divvy it up. They can either break it up and sell the company in bits, or try selling it as a going concern."

"I knew that."

"So someone owned these stones, their company went into administration, a receiver got hold of them and sold them. So, fine; they were waiting until they knew how much money they recovered in total before passing it on to the company's creditors. But there's no record of who the company was or who was crediting them."

"Can you tell where the money went?"

"There's a bank account number, but I don't know who it belongs to."

"Make a note of the number. We can ask Batman to use League authority to require them to release the information."

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to just… Oh."

"What? "

"I think the magical hacking ran out of magic. I can't get into the bank's records."

"They could be warded. And you know how the Swiss are about bank security."

"Got it. Okay, other end of the problem. Heritage hired some pretty big lorries to get them out here, I saw the pictures in the guidebook. I can find them, and… You saw how the new stones looked like they'd been cut down to size?"

"Actually, I… Missed that."

"Oh yeah, some of them look like they'd been cut in half to make two new ones. And a couple had wear patterns that made it look like some of them had been resting on something, maybe in a trilithon? Since I saw a cut surface and a rough surface I can pretty much guess how big the stones were… Here we go: they were shipped from an address in London. Says twelve stones in the description." She looks up at me. "Chemical composition said they'd come from the same place, right?"

"Yes."

"So whoever bought them originally probably got them all from the same place at the same time. The sale happened eleven years ago, there's not a lot of demand for stones that shape… Found it!" Her face falls. "Oh no."

"Well?"

"They were ordered by Doctor Phillip Fulton. Head of Research at Geotroniks."

My eyes widen. Oh… Dear…

"You sure that summoning they were trying to do failed?"

"Yes. John's not the most reliable man but he's like a terrier where the supernatural is concerned. He wouldn't give up until it was dealt with."

"But if you wanted to summon something… You'd practise first, wouldn't you?"

"I would, yes, but cultists might just follow a set of instructions." I think for a moment. "But if it's been here for that long, why did it start getting worse last month?"

"Did anything major happen in the mystic world last month?"

"Last month? Fawcett City briefly became a suburb of hell."

"No, before that."

"I think the Justice League was running around after a group of stolen relics. Didn't amount to much, though. And then…"

"What?"

"The Beast nearly got free. That thing in Stone Cross was part of it breaking the bonds keeping it trap.. ped…"

Oh dear.

"Geotroniks summons something and it stayed trapped in their standing stones until whatever the Beast was broke out of its prison." Beryl nods. "And it can't get out because the ley line network's all messed up. Okay. Makes sense, I suppose. But what do we do about it?"

"I think we can stop mucking around with this undercover stuff. If it's trapped like that it won't be able to do anything differently than what it's doing now."

"What if it tries making the dreams worse? It can use the fear as a connection, right?"

"Maybe. It depends… I need to phone John and see if he can tell me anything else about that place."

"We could just wreck the standing stones. Move the new ones somewhere else."

"Except it might have already transferred itself fully into the local ley lines. If we did that, removing the stones wouldn't do anything except wind up English Heritage." So, what do we..? "I've got a design for an arcane energy storage vessel. Sephtian's.. supposed to be building it, but I doubt that he's prioritised it. If we can get it finished-."

"We can zap it in there Ghostbusters style!"

"Maybe. I doubt it's that simple, but yes, that would be the idea. Okay, I'll phone John, you phone Kaldur."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
13:27 GMT

I tap my foot. "Still engaged."

"How exactly does this 'magical hacking' thing work, exactly? I didn't think you could do magic."

"Oh, I can't. But I can remotely scan the servers holding the data."

"And… What, input thousands of possible passwords until you find one with access?"

"No. That would leave a record someone could use to check who had been accessing the data. What you have to remember is that data doesn't exist.. sort of.. in the æther. It's encoded on a series of… Well, back home it would be encoded on a series of minute switches. Here it's still mostly like that, aside from really advanced things like your arm computer which use quantum wafers instead. The important part is: data storage is a physical thing, so when the ring scans a server-."

"It scans every physical component of a server in enough detail to perfectly replicate what's on it?"

"Yes. I mean, having done that I have a list of every accepted password and what they grant access to, but I don't really need them at-."

"Again?"

I turn away from Beryl and retreat to the far side of the room. "John, hello. Hope I'm not bothering you at a bad time."

"Someone else want a dead relative raising?"

"No, nothing so light-hearted. How well do you remember Geotroniks?"

"I'm not likely to forget." He pauses for a moment. "What d'you want to know?"

"You told me they were involved in trying to summon Jallakuntilliokan, but I don't think you ever told me what else they were up to."

"They were interested in ley lines, how to project energy through them. Damn near killed me when they attacked a train I was on with fear magic. Just a few people on it survived. Whole thing got covered up, of course. 'Points failure', or some bollocks like that."

"And how did this.. 'fear attack' work?"

"They built a stone circle and had psychics draw fear out of these paranoid… Paranoiac mental patients and put it inside. Most of the psychics couldn't hack it for long without going mental themselves, but the people running the place kidnapped this little girl called Mercury…"

I wait a moment, but he doesn't start again. "What?"

"Oh, just struck me. I still think of her as a little girl when she's older than Zatanna. Anyway, she was more powerful than anyone they'd used before. She could suck up all their fears and shove them inside, no bother. But all that fear-."

"Turned into a giant Fear Elemental with ideas of its own."

"Not exactly. It wasn't clever or anything. It could react to stuff, but that was about it. They were trying to use it to keep the country afraid so the Masons could take over the government, only… "

"Only what?"

"It didn't work. The politics didn't work out quite the way they thought it would. They tried pullin' the plug but their assassin tried to finish summoning Jallakuntilliokan anyway."

"You wouldn't know what happened to it, would you?"

"No idea, mate."

"May I assume that you similarly have no idea what happened to the equipment Geotroniks were using?"

"Why? Is some berk trying it on again?"

"From the looks of things… Did the Fear Elemental have a name?"

"Mercury called it the 'Terror Thing'. Sounds a bit daft…"

"Hello, I'm Orange Lantern. I hang around with a thirty three year old man who calls himself 'Bat Man'. He wears his pants outside of his leggings and no one laughs."

"Heh, yeah, I suppose."

"Someone from English Heritage -looking to save a few pounds- bought the standing stones Geotroniks were using and used them to patch up a group of three stone circles just outside a place called Minions, in Cornwall. Just after the Beast broke out, everyone in the village started having nightmares whenever they went to sleep."

"Bloo-dy hell."

"My current plan is to trap it in that arcane containment vessel my blue ring using alter ego gave me the designs for. I mean, we know it can be trapped…"

"Should work. You need me there to take care of the magic business?"

"No, thank you. We've got four out of five magic using team members here already, and Nabu's on standby just in case. I'll get on to Sephtian and they can read up on the rites required…"

"If you're not in a hurry, might be worth popping up to Scotland and paying Mercury a visit in the Pagan Nation commune. She can probably tell you more about it than me. I don't have the address-."

"But I have a power ring."

"Zed might have warded the place. She knew her stuff and I doubt she's forgotten anything."

"Yes, but if she lives in a place called 'Pagan Nation' it'll probably be one of those 'ward against someone who intends me harm' things. And I doubt they'll have protection against optical scans."

"Sounds like you've got it all in hand. Give us a bell if you need anything else."

"Thanks John." I lower the phone and end the call. "It's called the Terror Thing and it's an artificial Fear Elemental created by Geotroniks as a tool of psychological manipulation. It's supposed to keep people afraid."

"Did he know who's controlling it now?"

"No idea. As far as he was concerned the case was closed. And given the mess they found at Geotroniks, that wasn't such an unreasonable belief."

"Bloody hell, mate." Rob blinks and then gazes blearily around the room. "You don't half talk a lot." He looks himself over. "I'm still alive then?"

"Looks like." Beryl gives him a cheerful smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone stuck my soul in a septic tank and pressed the 'blend' button." He pulls himself up into a sitting position, winces and cradles his head in his hands for a moment. "Mate, you got one of those fully charged up Spell Eater things?" I remove one from subspace and toss it onto the bed next to him. He squints at it for a moment before picking it up in his left hand. "Cheers. Tula up yet?"

"No."

"She okay?"

"She appears to be."

"She was further in than me when it saw us. I was a bit worried it might have got her."

"No, she's-."

"Like that other bloke."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
13:32 GMT

"Other bloke?"

"Yeah, there was…" He winces again. "When it all… When it.. I guess.. sort of… Opened up, inside? There was this horrible-." He curls up, head pressed against the duvet with his arms over his head. "E-eh!"

"Rob?"

"It is…" We turn as Tula opens her eyes and pushes herself up. "It is hard to think about. Just being near the thing.. makes the fear association.. instinctual." She closes her eyes and her tattoos start to glow. "It is almost impossible to resist, but the influence can be.. purged."

Rob looks across at her. "You mind telling me how to do that?"

Her eyes glow as yellow light falls away from her empathic structures. Not entirely -that was clearly a very frightening experience the two of them went through- but the… The 'artificial' excess is slewing off.

"I… I am not sure that I can. The method I am using is a technique I studied after the first time I fought -or rather tried to fight- John Constantine. It was written using thaumaturgical notation that I do not believe you have studied yet."

"Oh."

"Your breath reinforcement technique would probably help a little."

"My what?"

"Ah." Tula looks at me. "What is the word for spirit in English?"

Cease translation. "Spirit." Resume.

She nods. "Spirit."

"Oh, right. Okay." Rob pulls himself into a sitting position with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees. His empathic network starts to intensify as he begins using the power in the Spell Eater to fortify himself. From the looks of things it's slower than what Tula was doing, but it should sort him out in an hour or two.

"Tula, Rob said that there was someone in there already? There weren't any reports of anyone going missing."

She shakes her head. "It looked as though he had been in there for some time. He was almost a.. a part of it."

Beryl thinks for a moment. "Someone from Geotroniks, you think? One of their patients?"

"Could be. One of the psychics, or just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Tula shakes her head. "What is 'Geotroniks'?"

"Beryl, bring them and Kaldur up to speed. I'm going to Scotland. Back in a few minutes."

"Gotcha."

I walk over to the window, brush aside the curtain and open it a little. Ring, northern Scotland... Five miles up. Oh, and go upwards first. I don't want anyone spotting an orange line coming from this room.

Compliance. Course available.

And transition.

I take a moment to look down on the countryside below me. Pretty, but I'm not here to admire the scenery. Ring, analytics.

Available.

I'm looking for a small community -hundreds of orange crosshairs appear in my vision- near either a large body of water or the sea -about three quarters disappear- with few cars or other motor vehicles -about half- practicing subsistence farming -most of the rest, just islands left for the most part- and no churches. Most of the islands go out. Okay, I can check those.

…

I don't suppose one of them has a sign saying 'Pagan Nation' on the front -all but one disappear- gate…

…

Thanks, ring.

Um, right. Armour… Light armour. I don't want to look like some kind of doom robot. Keep my face visible, but this is a professional occasion. I'm not going to use construct armour, but… Environmental shield to medium and Spell Eaters at the ready. Plot a course to directly above the settlement and about… Three hundred metres up?

Compliance. Course available.

Transition.

Looking down, I see small wooden houses with thatched roofs, their chimneys a mixture of brick and stone. Not all completely primitive, though. I see several wind-powered electrical generators -small ones- linked to a wire strung along a series of fence posts. There's a stream powering a water wheel which I'm guessing is used for grinding grains into flour. Short flag-topped poles mark the edge of the cliff. I can see people working on things, but there isn't much that grows well at this time of year and at this latitude. From the looks of things most people are inside.

Right then. Chap there's crouched down doing some weeding, he seems to be as good a person to ask as anyone. I descend through the sky until I'm floating just off the ground behind him. Woollen clothing with more than a little mud on it. I suppose I can see why this life might appeal to some people but I'm sure I'd hate it.

"Excuse me?"

He doesn't look around. "Yeah mate?"

"Would you be so good as to direct me to either Ms Zed or Ms Mercury?"

He pulls out a weed of some kind. "You from the-" He half turns so he can look at me. "-papers or shuckingfhit!" His left hand slips, and without the support of his left arm he falls on his face. "Oof!"

I bend down to help him up. "I say, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." He pushes himself up. "Just a bit of a shock. Where'd you come from, then?"

"Eastbourne. Well, actually, a small village near Eastbourne. In a parallel universe."

"Oh."

"Yes it.. doesn't really help, does it? Sorry about that." He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order. Ah, that's what the electricity's for. "I'm not here about the marijuana, I really just want to speak to Ms Mercury."

"Who are you?" Rather than trying to explain why I can't say my own name, I take a business card out of subspace and hand it to him. He reads it. "Orange Lantern. Um. Right. Err. This way."

I follow him along a muddy track, towards what appears to be the village centre. The buildings here look slightly older than the others. Well. Twelve years have passed. He leads me up to the door of a longhouse and pushes it open. Since he's a primitive I'll let him off not holding it open for me. "Hey, um, Mercury? There's a bloke here who wants to talk to you."

"I doubt it, Coll. I think I'd know about it if anyone did."

I step forward and push open the door myself. In the dark -of course, it would be rather hard to make glass here- the orange glow from my environmental shield is clearly visible and the sigil on my chestplate stands out even more. Several people are eating lunch around a wooden table. One of them -a short woman with brown hair- looks positively shocked to see me. "No, I really do wish to speak to you, Miss Mercury."

"AAAAGGGHHHHHHHH!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
13:39 GMT

"Um..?"

"AAAAGGGHHHHHHHH!" She shoots to her feet, knocking her chair aside as she staggers backwards.

"I'm sorry, should I-"

"Ah!"

"-maybe come back later?"

She seems to get herself together a bit. I'm not seeing fear -well, not much- so I'm not sure exactly why she's screaming. Everyone else is scared now though. Coll has retreated to the side of the room and the others look about ready to leg it.

"I'm sorry?"

"What are you?"

"I'm… You know, it still sounds weird to say this? I'm a superhero. And I want to talk to you about-."

"You don't exist."

"I…" Huh? "I'm sorry, could you just give me a moment?" I poke myself in the chest with my right forefinger. "I suppose that's not.. conclusive. Excuse me madam." I walk over to the table and look at the closest woman sitting there. "Would you mind terribly poking me?"

She hesitates.

"No, really, I want you to poke me. Nothing else will happen."

She pokes me quickly and lightly on my left arm and then jerks back.

I return my attention to Mercury. "See? Real. Now, can I have a word? Or do you want to scream some more?" I think about what I just said for a second. "Not that I want you to scream, you just seem to like screaming."

Mercury has her eyes fixed on me, in the manner of one trying to stare down a Rattlesnake.

Alert! Spell Eater temperature increasing.

Oh! "You can't feel me with magic and that's why you think I don't exist. Right. That makes sense." Ring, bare chest time. My cuirass disappears into subspace and Mercury squints as she tries to make sense of the tattoos. "Reminds me of a story, actually. There were two warrior monks. The elder was a powerful sorcerer and the younger, his apprentice. The younger had a particular gift for prescience, to the point where he neglected his other training because-" I shrug. "-it just wasn't as much use. So there came a day when they were leading their battle brothers into combat. The elder monk split the force with himself in command of half and his apprentice in command of the others. They would fight their way through separate screening forces with the intent of surrounding their enemies and catching them in a crossfire. But… When the fighting started-."

She doesn't quite scowl. "The apprentice used his magic to beat his enemies faster than his teacher and ended up attacking before the other part of the ambush was ready. So they all died."

"You've heard it before! But no. They had radios. They took some losses, then pulled back and called for help. His teacher had his part of the force double time it, and they were still able to pull off a victory."

"What do those tattoos do?"

"Lots of things." I make a circling motion with both hands, indicating the room. "And I'd be happy to discuss it, but would you mind telling everyone they can calm down first?"

"Why don't I know anything about you?"

"Epic strength scry ward and a pendant-" I take hold of it with my right hand. "-that eats magic energy. Which means that all your magic senses don't work." I pause. "Also, I come from a parallel universe with no magic."

She pulls a face.

Time for juvenility. I point my right forefinger at her. "Hur hur."

"How do you know who I am?"

"John Constan-" She's already nodding and doing the 'of course' dance. "-tine. Can I put my clothes back on now?"

"Yes, fine." She walks past me towards the door. "This way."

I re-armour myself then follow her out of the building, where it looks like her shout of alarm attracted quite a few other tribespeople. They look to her for reassurance but she just ignores them in favour of getting to somewhere where there aren't people. She leads the way out of the village proper and over towards the cliffs.

"Last time I saw John, he ran off to chase after his imaginary friend. With the help of a few hallucinogenic mushrooms. What does he want now?"

"Geotroniks." Her head whips around. "Whatever else happened in the aftermath, the 'Terror Thing'? Survived. We've tracked it down and… We were going to bind it permanently. But it turns out that there's a man inside. Would you know anything about that?"

"Siskin. He was one of the psychics they used to create it. He got trapped and couldn't get out again."

"Do you know his first name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It's my job to get the poor bastard out of there. Any information I can get helps with that."

She looks back out to sea. "Michael. He worked for the Ministry of Health."

Ring?

Accessing personnel records.

Bother. "He's listed as 'deceased'. They kept his body on life support for a couple of years, then had the machines turned off and cremated it."

"Plenty more died than just him."

"Yes, but I might still be able to help him. Okay, can you describe-?"

"Can it get out?"

"What, the Terror Thing? No, the ley lines never got fixed after most of the standing stones got spiked. It's stuck in a place called Minions, in Cornwall."

"Ley lines are artificial. Ancient male druids used them to force natural energy into straight lines. Geomantic power flows perfectly well on its own. That stone circle is holding it where it is, but if it gets damaged the Terror Thing will get out just as well as if the other stone circles got repaired."

I nod. "Worth knowing, thank you."

"You won't be able to do it."

"Says you."

"I saw him when he was in there. He was all… Merged into it. He wasn't a separate person anymore twelve years ago. I doubt there's anything left of the real him now. The Thing is probably just pretending to try and get you to help it."

"Thinking like that is why you're living in a primitivist commune rather than doing anything useful with your life."

She turns on me. "This is how people are supposed to live. Working together, knowing each other. In balance with the Earth."

"Yeah. I cleansed the sea of Human refuse. I refroze the North Pole. You did some gardening and smoked some weed." I shake my head. "I'll let you know how it goes. Ring, transition."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd March
16:06 GMT

"…says it will take a couple of days to get the containment vessel finished, but he's going to get started immediately. Since King Orin set us the task…" I lean back slightly in my chair. Garth and Tula have gone for a walk, Beryl's hard at work on her computer and Rob's got his textbook out.

Kaldur nods. "The area connected to the standing stones extends several miles in all directions before it fragments. I do not believe that the 'Terror Thing' could escape in that way."

"Mercury seemed to think it would be able to if this stone circle was destroyed. That the natural system was being distorted by the stones and would reconnect if the circle was killed."

"Then we will not take the chance. Robert, how do you feel?"

He looks around. "Pretty rough. We're not touching that thing again today, are we?"

"No, I think that would be quite unwise." Kaldur gets up and walks over to the bag containing the information on Atlantean spirit projection techniques. "It would seem that our current level of knowledge is wholly inadequate to the task at hand. We will all need to do a significant amount of studying before we attempt touching that creature again."

I nod and Rob twitches. "Beryl, got anything?"

"I've got transcriptions of the case notes for all of Geotroniks' patients. It's all there, all the dreams people have been having. Bombsite Bill, the Cancer Monster, undead unborn children… Horrible stuff."

Kaldur looks up from the book he picked out. "Did any of them survive?"

Berly glances up long enough to shake her head. "Pretty much everyone who had anything to do with the place died. The security chief murdered a lot of them, then… The firearms units who went in weren't taking any chances. Some of the 'police'-" I hear the distaste in her voice. "-they were using to round up victims weren't in the building at the time. A lot of them turned up dead over the next few months. I don't think we'll find anything else there."

"Has your program managed to track down any of the secret Mason-wizards?"

"Some." She exhales. "I've met some of these people. Cyril and me…"

"It is never pleasant to learn that people your government trusted with high office are evil."

"I can understand Orm wanting to be king. He grew up expecting to be king. These people… They're already running the country. I don't understand what they thought they could gain by making everyone afraid and summoning the Penis Dragon!"

"Did you ever read Nineteen Eighty Four?"

She looks up and doesn't immediately look away again. "Yes?"

"Do you remember the bit… What was his name..? O'Brien, explains why the Inner Parties of all three states are intentionally reducing the level of technology available to everyone, including Inner Party members?"

She thinks for a moment. "Always, Winston, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory, the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless. If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a human face - forever."

That was a worryingly good impression. "I don't remember the exact quote -I'm sure you're right- but his point was that as long as they were privileged beyond what the Outer Party and especially the Proles had, they'd be happy even if the absolute level of luxury was less than what they could have otherwise had. When I first read that, I found the idea… Profoundly revolting. Like… They'd be happy cutting off one hand if everyone else had to cut off both of theirs." I sigh. "Sounds like some people treated it as a 'how to' guide. The fear and the Dragon would let them stay in power forever, without having to worry about the system being overthrown. No one would be able to remove them. Perfect control."

"I don't even think it would have worked. You can't control people with just fear."

"Did you think Jallakuntilliokan was going to be used as a blunt instrument? The whole point of calling it up was to control the soul of the country, to make the British people things that could be controlled in that way. Try and.. turn the country into Apokolips-lite."

Kaldur looks up. "Paul, you are more familiar with.. non-standard magic practices than I am. Do you truly believe that there is a chance that we could save Mister Siskin from the Terror Thing?"

"No. His body was destroyed, and while I could clone a body for him, I doubt that any record of his DNA exists. As a result, there isn't anywhere for us to put his spirit. Other than a magic containment vessel of some kind, and frankly I doubt that constant isolation would be all that much better than what he has now. That's even assuming that we could isolate him from the rest of the Terror Thing, which I doubt. To take the fears from the paranoiac he would need to connect to them himself, creating a magic bond with every single one. If more were added after he got stuck… No, I don't see it. I could well be wrong, but…"

"Then what is it you hope to achieve?"

"I… Hope, that the Terror Thing is mindless fear. Fears. I'm guessing that it's not purposive, beyond having a vague desire to feed and keep itself alive. I mean, as far as we can tell it hasn't really done anything… If that's the case… He's the only mind in there."

Kaldur's eyes grow distant for a moment. "You believe that he could take control of it."

"I think he could become the mind of it. He wouldn't exactly be him any more, but… That ship's sailed. Once he's got it under control we can stick him in the containment unit until we can work out how to build an arcanotechnological avatar for him. It's not.. an ideal solution…"

Rob puts his book down and looks at me, clearly uncomfortable. "I… I'm not sure that creating a giant fear Elemental is… A good idea. Like, at all."

"You do realise that Siskin is probably the last living witness to that whole business, right? Someone who could testify to what they were doing in court."

He scowls at me. "He'd hardly be credible if he made the whole court claw their own eyes out in terror, would he?"

Oh, I… "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Yeah, you shouldn't." He looks away for a moment. "Besides, it turns out that the whole Establishment needs Uncle Julian to stay inside. What're the chances anyway?"

"Rob, if it comes right down to it I'll forcibly extract him myself."

Beryl frowns at me. "Steady on."

"What? If he can't get a fair trial, why should they have the right to try him in the first place? I'm not going through all this effort to keep arseholes in power."

"But you're not just going to..?"

"No. I'll let the appeal happen. But if it's clearly bullshit, they're going to need a new prison afterwards." She looks distinctly uncomfortable with the idea. "Well? What do you think I should do?"

"I don't know! This is my first day plotting high treason! I usually just do data analysis and fighting evil Morris Dancers!"

Kaldur looks bewildered. "Evil Morris Dancers?"

"It's not as common as you'd think."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th March
09:27 GMT

"So we've definitely ruled out anyone astral projecting themselves into the standing stones..?"

I glance at Beryl as we make our way across the moor lands. "Seems sensible."

"And your plan is.. to astrally project yourself into the standing stones."

"Well-."

"I think I might have detected a tiny contradiction in your thinking."

"I wouldn't actually be projecting myself into the standing stones. It's more like-."

"Creating an artificial ley line leading to yourself and inviting it in." She looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes her head. "I'm not really seeing how that's any better."

"Okay, firstly, the ley line would be pure orange light. If the Terror Thing tried using it, it would be literally incapable of using most -if not all- of its power. Secondly, however powerful it is, it is not more powerful-" I pat the box containing my personal lantern. "-than the Ophidian."

The spawn of the Insect is no match for us, my Agent!

I know. But brute force won't save Michael Siskin.

I defer to your judgement, my Agent. Act as you see fit.

"And you wanted me to come along because..?"

"While we don't need to worry quite as much about maintaining cover as we did when we thought this might be a Human magic user, I don't think that scaring people more will help anyone. It would look odd if I came with a group of six and then spent all day on my own. Plus, neither of us can learn enough magic in a couple of days to help with that part of the job."

"Was Rob waking up last night as much as Tula was?"

"Probably. I'd say we can safely conclude that what they did formed a connection to the Terror Thing. Hopefully they can come up with some sort of counter today. Either that or…" Oh dear. "I was about to suggest leaving temporarily, but-."

"You think that might risk it getting out." She looks away for a moment. "Other people who've had the nightmares have left already. Do you want to try calling them back?"

"I hope that's not necessary." Is it? "No. If that was enough to let it get out it would already be out. But… Direct, intentional contact would create a stronger link. I'd rather not risk it."

The standing stones are just ahead. It's funny: I know all about their arcane significance but there's still a little something in the back of my head insisting that I'm being silly. That they're just lumps of stone. Atlantean magic is just so overt, at least the bits I've encountered on a regular basis. The idea that a landscape that looks just like the decidedly non-magical landscapes back home has something else going on isn't something I've adjusted to.

I walk into the middle of the northernmost circle and sit down, putting the box down in front of me and opening it up just a little. Obviously, this.. would be easier if someone was dreaming -or rather, having a nightmare- but I think I'd rather that the Terror Thing wasn't on the top of its game when I try this.

I glance over to where Beryl is leaning against one of the stones, carefully watching what I'm doing. "Didn't have any nightmares yourself?"

She gives her head a small shake. "Didn't really see anything."

"No, but you were here before us."

"I'll let you know when. How about you?"

I think for a moment. "I don't remember the last time I dreamt of anything. Given all the work I've had done, I'm not sure that the Terror Thing could connect to me even if it wanted to."

Okay, enough putting this off. I take a few steady breaths, then try the basic spiritual reaching out. It isn't really based on vision, but I'm so used to perceiving things.. interpreting what my soul tells me is there as colour that it doesn't even occur to me to think of it in other terms. I can see Beryl easily enough… No. I'm going to have to turn it up all the way for this to work and I don't really want to become privy to every facet of her psyche. That would be rude.

I turn my attention to the stones themselves. The ones from Geotroniks clearly stand out, the mad passions of the serial killer Webster still associated with them. I get brief flashes of the… Of the people he garrotted and decapitated. I think his face is worse. They never did find out exactly who killed him, though my money is on one of the armed policemen properly coached by the Mason-wizards.

Now… Down. Again, it isn't down any more than I'm seeing, but I can't think of a better word for it. The yellow light of fear leaves a trail I can follow well enough, thin threads flowing from dozens of minds towards a point far below us. Probably wouldn't have been able to perceive it pre-Ophidian. Looking down… The Terror Thing is down there somewhere. But I don't want to visit it.

What does Siskin want? He wants to be free.

Ophidian.

I feel her alongside me, looking down as I do. Her tongue flicks out.

Faint, my Agent. Very faint.

And then I can see it, the strand connecting the soul of one who wants to the Embodiment of all Want. And… For some reason, to me. Alright then. I reach out, forming a probably-not-entirely-literal winch and winding the thread around the spindle. And turn. Okay. I have no idea what's literally happening, but I'm definitely pulling on something. Is this a thing that can snap? The thread is thin, but it appears to be strong. Or at least I can't detect any significant weaknesses.

Something -I have no idea what- roils beneath me. Something's coming.

Who's there? What is this?

She wasn't joking about him being faint. The part of Siskin I can see is an orange outline only, faint and frail and incomplete. His face is mostly there, but large parts of his head are simply gone. His left arm is little more than a stump and his right is emaciated. The ghostly image of a hospital issue t-shirt terminates in frayed cloth and what appears to be exposed spinal column.

"Mister Siskin."

It takes him a moment to focus his attention on me. Oh God. It's still got me, hasn't it?

"Yes. But that isn't why I'm here. Jallakuntilliokan's rising was prevented. Pretty much everyone associated with the project was killed. Now I'd like to help you."

Get me out please get me out get me out? There's so little of me left. The shade looks at its own ruined body. I'm being… Digested. It's… It's learning, from me. It doesn't understand Humans, but.. it will. Once I'm all gone… And then…

"Enough of that, Mister Siskin. You have a chance to get yourself back together again. I can help, but you'll have to provide a lot of the effort yourself."

What can I do? I've tried… I can't force my way out.

"Mister Siskin, you can never be as you were. But you can become something else. Fearing the Terror Thing, fearing your lost humanity, those things make it strong. Only by embracing it, by mastering all of the fears that make it up can you become something greater than it. You can take its power and make it your own."

No I can't! Can't you see? I'm just… Just a wisp.

He's fading.

Ophidian.

We exhale, our breath carrying every desire he's ever felt. Every moment of want and need and hunger. They flow over him, coalescing around him, reinforcing his wisp-self, turning it into something more substantial. His arm returns, his features flesh out and his body turns back into something approximating a healthy Human psyche.

At least from an avaricious point of view. This is probably a very bad idea from the point of view of spiritual balance. Ah well. That ship has thoroughly sailed.

"Feeling better?"

Yes, I… I think so. He stares at himself. I can remember being… Me. I haven't remembered… He peers at me. You really think I can beat it?

"It's not a fight. It's not about overpowering it. You can't win that fight. Victory is achieved through comprehension, undermining its strength and making it your own. Every time you shrink back, you give it victory."

And there's no other way out? My body-.

"Was cremated years ago. I'm sorry, Mister Siskin. Either you absorb it, or it absorbs you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Pff, what? Ring?

4th March
19:58 GMT

I reach up to my forehead with my right hand and pull off the post-it note.

"Got bored, wandered off. Back at eleven. Beryl." I sigh. "Thanks, Beryl." Ugh, I'm glowing orange and it's dark. If there's anyone around… I suppose it's not actually a problem, not now that we know what we're dealing with. Time loss during meditation, ten and a half hours. So… About a one to two hundred ratio of time experienced to time passed. Better than when I first went to the Honden. Because I'm getting better at it, or because that was easier?

I reach forwards, snap shut the lantern case and take hold of it before standing up. Ring off, and… Ah. I brought a small torch with me, but it's going to be a bit annoying going back in the dark like this. Okay, sling the lantern case over my shoulder, torch out and turn it on. I think I'll avoid the bank, so the best route back to Minions is a little longer. The ground's.. fairly level and dry enough that I'm not worried about getting stuck or anything like that.

I give the distant village a glance before setting out. Quite a strong yellow glow, though at this distance it's a little difficult to pick out individuals. I frown. Odd. It's only eight o'clock. Eh, maybe they've taken to getting early nights so they have a chance to actually get the sleep they need. Keeping my attention on the patch of ground in front of me I fish out my mobile and scroll down to Beryl's name. I mean, back at eleven? Okay, she had no way to get my attention, but she could just have taken out her arm computer or something. I doubt anyone would have focused on that when there was someone next to her glowing bright orange.

I tap the name, then bring the phone up to my ear as I take another look at my surroundings. If I head towards the Minions Heritage Project, that'll take me to a track and then the road. No street lights or cat's-eyes out here, but there shouldn't be a fat lot of traffic at this time of night.

"Oh, come on Ber-." I hear her answer. "Beryl, really? You left me in a field-?"

"OhGodPaulyou'vegottogetbackhererightnow."

I come to a stop. "Why? What's going-?"

"It'shere. OhnoIthinkthey'vefoundme."

Oh no. Rings on and transition.

The field disappears and I'm… Standing over the road leading into the village? Ring?

Unable to transition directly into Minions due to intense fear aura. Conventional flight is-. I accelerate towards the Cheesewring. -available.

Ring, scan for Beryl.

Unable to comply. Fear aura interfering with standard scan. Best estimates on display.

Sonic and infrared estimates of which of the people in the village are most likely to be Beryl appear before my eyes. Looks like the person most likely to be Beryl is currently on the roof of the Minions village shop.

"He's in here! He's in here!"

"Light it! Light it quickly!"

What? There's a mob around the shop, some members of which are already inside with-. Oh dear. There's no actual roof access, and Beryl's got her sword pointed directly at the patch of roof nearest to the open window that was probably her egress point. There's a flash of orange from the inside of the top floor as someone sets something on fire. The people inside are pulling back…

I attach a construct harness to Beryl and haul her into the air.

"Beryl, what the hell is-?"

She squirms violently against the harness for a moment before throwing her sword at me -I jerk back in the air and catch it with a filament- and going for her slingshot. I know that a slingshot can do someone a mischief, but in a fight like this it's even more hopeless than a pointy stick launcher. And she's full of yellow. I know I'm bright orange, there's no way she can-. A round metal ball hits me in the forehead, the energy of the impact being effortlessly absorbed by my environmental shield.

"Beryl, it's me. Orange Lantern."

Two more balls hit me in the forehead. She's still yellow and she's shaking and I don't like how her heart rate's still increasing. Keeping hold of her I fly directly upwards three miles. Maybe dist-? No, another ball. I take a Spell Eater out of subspace and tie the thong it's attached to around her neck. Nothing. I try shoving the pendant itself into her blouse. No, she's still freaking out. Ring, is my Spell Eater heating up?

Some magic is being absorbed. However, the quantity is not commensurate to that of a focused attack.

Okay, she was reasonably together on the phone-. I remember watching a video on mental disorders. One of the case studies was of a young man who had lost the ability to recognise his father by sight. He saw a man who somewhat resembled his father, but it didn't trigger the 'this is my dad' circuit in his brain. Hearing him on the phone worked, he recognised his voice as long as there was no visual cue…

I turn Beryl around, back off and take out my mobile again, pressing my right thumb against her name. A short jaunty instrumental plays from Beryl's leg and she frantically grabs at her mobile and presses the answer button.

"Beryl-."

"He'sgotmehe'sgotmehe'srightbehindme."

"Okay, Beryl? I need you to take a deep breath."

"What'reyou-?"

"Beryl, we came to Minions to investigate something using fear magic. Do you remember?"

"Buthe's…" There's a slight distortion in the yellow fog enveloping her. "He's… Not. He's not. Okay. Okay. There's no one behind me, and I'm not hanging in the air."

"No, no, you are, and it's me. And, a slingshot? Really?"

"Hah heh."

"Okay, what do you think is behind you?"

"B-bombsite Bill."

"Whom you know to be fictional."

"I thought, like… The Terror Thing had gotten strong enough to make people's fears real."

"I didn't see anything like that, and I'm the most magic resistant person I know." Her heart rate starts dropping very slightly as she starts to get a grip. "What were you seeing?"

"I was climbing through a bombed out building… Only I knew it was really the village shop. And he was coming for me. I needed-. I had to hide, so he couldn't-."

"Sell you as black market bacon."

"It sounds stupid when you just say it." Another couple of breaths. "What was really happening?"

"I'm not sure." I look down. "I think they thought you were Bombsite Bill and they started burning the shop down. They're still standing there, trying to make sure that you don't get out."

"Where have you been?"

"The standing stones. I only just came out. Were you really going to leave me there until eleven?"

"Eleven in the morning!"

"Okay. So, what exactly happened?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th March
20:03 GMT

"I stayed with you for.. about half an hour. So I stuck a note on the stone-."

"My forehead."

"No, the stone to start with. Then I walked back into town to see how the others were getting on. They were pretty out of it after last night-" I start nodding, then remember she can't see me. "-so I picked up one of the books they'd finished with and came back. Started reading it. Didn't expect to learn how to do magic or anything, but I thought I might be able to pick up enough to make intelligent suggestions. I gave it about another half hour, but I couldn't understand the notation well enough to make sense of what I was reading. Then I got annoyed, stuck the note on your forehead and stormed back into the village. Thought I could make myself useful by collating data on exactly when what nightmares happen."

"Did you sleep alright last night?"

"Tula woke me up a couple of times. Didn't have any nightmares myself."

I glance below us. The shop is burning well. Everyone seems to be well clear… I create a cold gun construct and put it out. As the flames die down several members of the crowd cry out in shock.

"Was that-?" Beryl shakes her head. "Oh, this is annoying."

"I thought I heard a few other people cry out last night."

"Gotta be honest, I put headphones on and listened to white noise after the second time."

"Ugh, so we don't know if it actually became worse. Okay, so you started asking people about it..?"

"Shouldn't you be, like, doing something about everyone down there?"

"I could gas them all, but they're not actually dangerous to anyone at the moment and I'm hoping that this is costing the Terror Thing in concentration or power." I suppose a quick check wouldn't hurt. "A few people are huddled in various buildings, but most people are cowering around the building I picked you up from."

"Rob and that?"

"They're…" I can't see them. "Ring? Make an effort."

In a matter of seconds the ring switches between infra red, radar, sonic scanning and MRI. Nothing. Try harder. Ah! There! I may have had to saturate the whole area with orange light before I got a return-. "They're heading away from here in different directions. I'm not sure-."

"It's inside me!" / "It's crawling in my skin!"

The shouts draw my attention downwards. The mob's… No longer a coherent entity. Now people seem blind to one another's presence. They're clawing at their own skin, trying to pull something-. They believe there's something living inside them, something malign and evil. Ah shit.

"It's turning the crowd against themselves. I'm using gas." Filaments shoot down, turning into gas masks and attaching themselves to the faces of the people below as I start transmuting knockout gas.

"How safe is that stuff? 'Cause I remember that thing in that theatre in Russia-."

"The gas they used was heavier than air." People start dropping. Hard ground to collapse on but I can't spare them my attention. The aura of fear is strong enough that I'm really having to focus in order to do this safely. "Assuming that we're talking about the same incident, Russian Special Forces pumped the gas into the lowest point in the room. Anyone near there got a massively excessive dose. I'm doing the exact minimum-" I'm forced to use a manacle construct as a woman tries to cut into her own arm with a knife. "-I can to keep them down."

"What about the people not down there?"

"Mob down. We're lucky this is such a small place. Right." I drop further down, dragging Beryl with me. "We can get them next. They don't seem to.. be…"

"Be what?!"

The yellow light inside them is too structured. I can see… Separate sets of fears, linked by lines of commonalities to theme. Is it trying to make itself a host, or hosts? Whatever, as long as we can contain it then it shouldn't matter too much. I force holes in walls and gas them unconscious as well. I have no idea if that's actually weakening it-.

"Ah, Orange? They're getting up again."

What?

"The people, they're-" I look around as the mob awakens. "-getting back up. How are they doing that?"

Scan. Shit. "They're not. They're still unconscious. The Terror Thing's controlling their bodies." The patterns of yellow are the same. Was it… Practising? Or… Was it just that those others were asleep and it finds that easier?

Construct armour time.

"Siskin, can you hear me?"

They haven't managed to get upright quite yet. From the jerky motions of their bodies it looks like it's having trouble working out how Human bodies function. Individual joints, individual muscles, no trouble at all. The things as a whole? Not happening. On the other hand, it doesn't seem to need to look through their eyes to know what's going on around it.

"Yes."

They also all speak in unison. That's unsettling.

"Would you mind telling me what you're doing?"

"I hear you. The little voice that once thought to use me as a weapon is here. A part of my greater whole."

"Okay. And?"

"And I hear more fears." Oh, looks like they're getting the hang of standing up. "Every fear shall be a part of me and every mind shall shine with my magnificence!"

"Think negotiation's shot, then?"

"Could be. Of course, these people can only move at a maximum of Human running pace. If we pick up the runners and bring them back-."

A brilliant golden ankh appears in the air over the mob and oh heck.

"Witness the power of Fate!" The portal ankh closes as Nabu glides through, his fists glowing. Light flashes and the closest couple of people go down on their knees, the fear structure in their souls straining under the assault. "Fell spirit! Return to whatever foul realm spawned you!"

"Great."

"Mobile phones." I glance back as Beryl waves hers to the side. "Wonderful things."

"Yes, I'm.. sure they are."

"What?"

"Nothing. Ring, location of Kaldur." I see its best guess, a couple of miles down the road. "Transitioning."