The cost, basically. At least you didn't expect the freaking swimming pool to be full of holy water. I had people disappointed about that during previous postings of this.
Xandificer. Xander as an Artificer.
- Thread starter Datatroll
- Start date
- Mature Novel Fantasy
Non holy swimming pool is fine, even if he could recycle said pool back into the tank. Purify food and drink explicitly don't destroy holy/unholy water. Still, you have that device that converts fluids into holy water, so thought about putting in one of those to gradually make the water holy. Then again, the real world rules for creating holy water is to never dilute it past 50% so it might not work for that reason to do it gradually.
and a Preistess of Janus eh... well, low level, but hey,that is pretty darn good. to bad turn undead need line of effect...
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Every City Has Its Dark Side.
Chapter 84
Every City Has Its Dark Side.
>>>>
>> July sixth, 7 PM. Pike's Place Market, Seattle WA.
"Did that guy just throw a fish at that other guy?" Willow asks a little confused as the men working behind the counter at the fish market start throwing their goods to the one boxing up a bunch of it for a customer.
Kendra points to a sign on the wall that says:
WATCH FOR FLYING FISH!
"I think it's normal for them. Are we done here yet? As markets go, this is a very interesting one. But aside from the food and a couple of stores that sell music and stuff, there isn't a lot here that Alex can't make us better versions of if we want it. Besides, we've been wandering around this place for five hours. If we haven't seen everything, we've gotten close enough to it that I'm willing to miss whatever we didn't see."
Buffy shrugs her shoulders while she pays the lady behind the counter at another booth for some kind of seasoned meat on a stick. She isn't sure what it is, but it smells delicious enough to drown out the fish market from only fifteen feet away. She figures it can't be too bad. "Sure. I didn't see much in the way of clothing or shoes here anyway, and what there was didn't thrill me."
Alex glances toward Buffy as she lays down her money for her own meat stick thingy. "You know I can make shoes too, right? Not just combat boots? If you want something specific, let me know."
Buffy nods as she nibbles on her meat stick. "Yeah, I know. But it's fun to go shopping for ideas. Besides, we have these cameras for a reason. I figured if I found something I couldn't live without I could take a few photos and maybe you could make it later."
Willow giggles. "I'm not sure that was the reason we picked up the cameras, but okay." Having decided that the meat stick wasn't for her, she is off to the side a bit at another booth getting a pastry of some sort with Kendra, who is getting one herself having already finished her meat stick.
As the four girls are walking along the street level of the multiple-level market that sprawls along the side of the hill, Buffy finds that she is having trouble holding back anymore and pops the question.
"So, Kendra, rumor has it that you have a date with Levinson when we get back. Is something actually happening there? I mean, I know he took you to prom, but I thought you weren't looking."
Kendra smiles as the four of them wait at a street light. Unfortunately, it is going to be a good fifteen blocks to get back to where they needed to park the truck. Inner city friendly it isn't. "We're just going to dinner before classes start so we can talk and compare schedules and such. I don't know that it is going anywhere, but to be honest I wouldn't be upset if it did. He is a really nice, smart, and thoughtful guy."
She shakes her head ruefully. "Though I'll admit I could hope for maybe not quite so many pop culture references. He is some kind of guru of all things science fiction or fantasy. It gets a little out of hand, especially when he is around those two friends of his."
Alexis and Willow snicker, then Willow swallows the last of her pastry and responds. "Good luck with that. He's always been obsessed with that stuff. He's memorized so many books and stat sheets of entirely worthless knowledge it's amazing. Maybe if he sticks around long enough we can bring him in and he can use that beautiful brain you like so much to memorize some of Giles' books."
The four of them end up walking single-file for a minute to get around other people who are smoking on the sidewalk. To the right, they can hear the thumping of some powerful speakers beating out a simple but relentless rhythm. Once they are past it, Buffy glances back irritably.
"I kinda can't wait until you have those neckpieces done that clean the air for us. I feel like I just went wading through a full ashtray."
At Alex's questioning look, Kendra nods. "It's true. An enhanced sense of smell is only sometimes a blessing. Most of the time it just makes mild annoyances into major ones."
Without even realizing it, the four have adopted a patrol pattern in their walking as the light begins to dim. Not because the sun is down, but rather because the buildings around them are tall enough that direct light can't reach anywhere. Buffy takes the lead, bouncing on the balls of her feet with barely restrained energy from the sheer volume of sugar and caffeine that she has consumed today. Alex and Willow are side by side behind them, practically walking in step with each other and holding hands. Kendra follows along a few paces behind them, keeping an eye on everyone and occasionally glancing behind herself as they go.
Alexis smirks. "Yeah, I can see that. Well, they'll be done in about another five days. But remember that you probably won't want to use them all the time. They stop the bad smells, but they also stop the good ones. And the warning ones. That's why I am building them with an on and off feature. Mental command. Besides, if I remember my health class you wouldn't want to not be able to smell food. Apparently, your senses of smell and taste are kinda in cahoots and without smell, food starts to suck or something."
Willow giggles. "Or something?"
Alex grins. "Or something. It was like three years ago, I'm amazed I remember it at all."
As they walk along they can see that many of the outlets are shutting down for the night, and the streets and sidewalks are getting more and more clear of people as they wander along taking in the sights. On the next street up, Buffy turns around and walks backward for a few steps. "So, three in three days is a bit much. Just for the sake of my sanity, can you tell me why we are hitting every zoo and aquarium on the trip?" As she asks, she jerks her thumb down the hill and back the way they came, where the Seattle aquarium sits nestled against the waterfront.
Alexis just smiles. "Looking for inspiration. The shark effigies I'm using to guard the rig are great, but I can make all kinds of stuff. I was just looking into what else I could do. Specifically, I am considering building something we could use to start cleaning out all these tunnels under Sunnydale. Did you see the footage from Daryl's helmet camera? I mean, it was a nasty smokey mess and I am sure that made it worse. But it was absolutely horrifying. I know that Henry isn't excited about sending his men down there and honestly, I'm not real thrilled about you Slayers going down there either. I mean, if there is a place in town that is specifically not conducive to a long and happy life, it's those damn tunnels."
The four walk in silence for a few seconds. Then Kendra asks the question. "Did you see anything?"
Alex offers a slight grimace. "Yes and no? I have a couple of ideas, but I was hoping to come up with something local or at least not ridiculous. Unfortunately there just isn't much around that will do the job. I mean, there are lots of animals at the zoo that would be great. I'm actually debating a crocodile or something. But if any normal people saw them it would cause a panic. Locally, about the best we've got are coyotes and the occasional cougar. Frankly, considering how stupid effigies are and the fact that the iron defenders would be tougher than an effigy that size anyway, that would be the way to go. But if I decide I don't care so much about what the regular folks see, then I have lots of options. Both from here and from, well, the game world."
Willow gives her an excited look. "You mean the monsters?"
Alex nods. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure I could make mechanical copies of a bunch of stuff from the monster manuals, and since a lot of that stuff was designed with dungeons in mind, it'd be pretty effective as a way to clean out the underground. The problem is that whatever I make, I'd need to go down there with it unless I can figure out how to pass control over to somebody else. It's a bit of an issue since I'm gonna be honest, I don't really wanna go down there." She kicks at the ground once as she walks, obviously annoyed. Then she brightens.
>>>>
The chatting and random waiting on streetlights continue as the four make their way down the road until finally they reach the truck and get in. Now they are sitting around the living room trying to decide what to do with the remainder of the day since none of them are hungry after all the snacking. Plus, they discovered the second day of their vacation that since they aren't twenty-one yet, most casual entertainment options end about eight in the evening. After spending an hour deciding what they are planning to do tomorrow, and then taking the time to watch a movie, they are all about to turn in for the evening when they hear a scream outside. Buffy and Kendra immediately turn in the direction of the sound and are on their way to the door when they hear Alex call out to them.
"Be careful. This isn't Sunnydale. Guns are a lot more likely here."
The two nod in response, hitting the back door seconds later. Willow, having turned on her microphone, is tapping away on her keyboard. Alex gives her a raised eyebrow while mentally directing the green hat pixie to open the roof hatch and release Skite and DW. Willow doesn't even look up.
"Red here. I am listening to the police radio on my other earpiece and poking around local news outlet options. Let me know when you have any information so I can refine my searches."
A few seconds later, there is a response. "Slayer here. Guys, find out what you can about, and I can't believe I am even having to say this, but dig up what you can concerning underground tunnels. We found access to one under the street in the alley around the block and based on the clanging sound we heard on approach, I'm betting they went down here.
Alex hangs her head. She knows the answer, but she has to ask. "You're going to follow them, aren't you?"
The snort in response is pure Buffy. "Already did. Left the hatch open so you can send DW down if you want. We have two ways to go and we need to find them fast before whatever it is can lose us, so we are gonna have to split up. Wish us luck."
Alex is almost crying in frustration as she sends DW after Kendra, and Skite after Buffy.
Wasn't this supposed to be a vacation?
>>>>
>> The House. Same time.
"You know, some of the stuff in the book is starting to make sense to me. And honestly, that is a little freaky." Melinda says as she strips down to go to bed.
Dawn looks up from her notes from where she is laying in her nightclothes on her bed. "How so?"
The black-haired girl shrugs as she slips into an oversized t-shirt she plans to sleep in. "Well, like the praying when you wake up, so you can get spells for the day. And a lot of the positive and negative energy bits, and how positive energy is good for life and bad for the undead, while with negative energy the reverse is true. The idea of using a strong pulse of good energy to get undead to back off, or even wipe them out if it's strong enough. I mean, I'm not saying I am an expert or anything. But it does all kinda make sense now, and it really didn't when I read it before."
Dawn shakes her head. Melinda has been 'worshiping' Janus faithfully for three days. Devouring any and all knowledge that the internet and Giles' library can produce on the subject of the god, the Roman pantheon of gods on the whole, and of course everything related to undead and vampires. But the strangest thing by far is the 'holy symbol' she created that is one of Mayor Wilkins' old campaign buttons that she has painted yellow and drawn a pair of faces on in such a way that they are both sideways and sharing the same set of eyebrows. After that, she removed the old pin from it, threaded a ribbon through the holes, and has been wearing it around her neck all the time except when they are playing in the pool. Dawn smiles.
"Do you think you are being divinely inspired, or are you just learning something from Giles' books?"
Melinda frowns. "Maybe a little of both?" She looks at Dawn and grins. "Remember, I did look him up. You were right, if there is any god out there that would want me to transition to a new beginning, and would get enough of a kick out of it to give me a hand doing it, it'd be Janus. He is a big fan of change, any kind of change. The trick seems to be making the change you want more interesting than some other possibility that you don't want." She frowns slightly. "Letting Janus get bored is a good way to get him to go a little crazy." Then she smiles. "Did you hear? If I can get this to work, Jeffery wants to try being a Chaos Paladin for Janus."
Dawn's eyes open wide. "A what Paladin?"
Melinda rolls her eyes. "He found it in one of the oddball extra books. It's an alternate class option or something. Technically it's supposed to be a 'Paladin of Freedom' but that's just a fancy way of saying that it's a really nice guy that beats evil ass, is willing to break the law to do it, and is partially powered by a god. Considering the number of laws that your sister breaks on a nightly basis I am thinking that if we ever want to be useful, having somebody trying to help that will lose his powers if he has to enter a private residence without a warrant could be a bad thing."
Dawn is shaking her head at this point. "Isn't he twelve? I could have sworn he was twelve."
Melinda shrugs. "Nope. He's thirteen. Legitimately he's almost a year younger than me, but thanks to the wonderfulness that is the school year cut of dates being really in his favor, he's in the same grade we are. The difference just seems bigger than it could be because he's kinda small for his age."
Dawn sighs, places the notebook she was sketching designs in on her bedside table and flops backward onto her pillow. "You do realize that if we try to get involved in anything before we're like thirty, my mom is going to kill us right? We'll only get away with it then if she's gotten too slow to catch us."
Melinda nods, turning out the light and laying back on her own bed. "Yeah." She smiles into the darkness. "It feels pretty good to have somebody care again."
Her smile then slowly fades into a look of determination. "But it seems like the only choices I'm being offered in this life are learning to defend myself or resigning myself to being a victim, and I am so not down with option two. Been there, done that, it sucked."
Dawn can't help but be a little moved by this, as even with her Slayer sister being involved these two new additions have been through so much more than she has.
Kidnapped by Spike and watching their friends die in a sacrifice.
Almost killed by Der Kindestod after suffering from a fever that almost cooked her alive.
Then the demons invaded the orphanage again during the Mayor's ascension and them being nearly murdered before being dropped in a room full of inquisitive clay pixies wearing hard hats.
And that's ignoring that both of them lost their parents to mysterious circumstances before they were three.
Dawn sighs a little, then rolls over to her side and curls up slightly. Yeah, they both have paid their dues and it sounds like they need to feel like they are learning how to be stronger. She gets it. Really. And in the end, she can't really blame anybody but herself, after all, she made the suggestion to learn more for self-defense-type reasons.
But did they have to go full bore the route of power by chaos god?
>>>>
Author's note.
For anyone that doesn't know, Pikes Place Market in Seattle is a real thing and possibly one of the most entertaining ways to spend a lazy Sunday that I know. Just make sure you bring money because while it is a fun time, there is nothing there that is free and it's become something of a tourist spot. So the prices are a tad inflated. Not horrible, but don't be poor when you visit.
I want to also mention for anybody growing concerned that the little player group of Dawn, Jeffery, and Melinda will not be taking over the story. They may get the odd chapter here or there, but primarily they exist because in a couple of years' storytime? I needed a way for Dawn to act out her teenage rebellion years that wasn't shoplifting. Both because it's lame and because her mother will still be alive and would have shut that down instantly. So they will have little adventures and occasionally help behind the scenes. But I have no plans to make them central to the story or write an offshoot starring them or anything.
Thanks for reading!
Every City Has Its Dark Side.
>>>>
>> July sixth, 7 PM. Pike's Place Market, Seattle WA.
"Did that guy just throw a fish at that other guy?" Willow asks a little confused as the men working behind the counter at the fish market start throwing their goods to the one boxing up a bunch of it for a customer.
Kendra points to a sign on the wall that says:
WATCH FOR FLYING FISH!
"I think it's normal for them. Are we done here yet? As markets go, this is a very interesting one. But aside from the food and a couple of stores that sell music and stuff, there isn't a lot here that Alex can't make us better versions of if we want it. Besides, we've been wandering around this place for five hours. If we haven't seen everything, we've gotten close enough to it that I'm willing to miss whatever we didn't see."
Buffy shrugs her shoulders while she pays the lady behind the counter at another booth for some kind of seasoned meat on a stick. She isn't sure what it is, but it smells delicious enough to drown out the fish market from only fifteen feet away. She figures it can't be too bad. "Sure. I didn't see much in the way of clothing or shoes here anyway, and what there was didn't thrill me."
Alex glances toward Buffy as she lays down her money for her own meat stick thingy. "You know I can make shoes too, right? Not just combat boots? If you want something specific, let me know."
Buffy nods as she nibbles on her meat stick. "Yeah, I know. But it's fun to go shopping for ideas. Besides, we have these cameras for a reason. I figured if I found something I couldn't live without I could take a few photos and maybe you could make it later."
Willow giggles. "I'm not sure that was the reason we picked up the cameras, but okay." Having decided that the meat stick wasn't for her, she is off to the side a bit at another booth getting a pastry of some sort with Kendra, who is getting one herself having already finished her meat stick.
As the four girls are walking along the street level of the multiple-level market that sprawls along the side of the hill, Buffy finds that she is having trouble holding back anymore and pops the question.
"So, Kendra, rumor has it that you have a date with Levinson when we get back. Is something actually happening there? I mean, I know he took you to prom, but I thought you weren't looking."
Kendra smiles as the four of them wait at a street light. Unfortunately, it is going to be a good fifteen blocks to get back to where they needed to park the truck. Inner city friendly it isn't. "We're just going to dinner before classes start so we can talk and compare schedules and such. I don't know that it is going anywhere, but to be honest I wouldn't be upset if it did. He is a really nice, smart, and thoughtful guy."
She shakes her head ruefully. "Though I'll admit I could hope for maybe not quite so many pop culture references. He is some kind of guru of all things science fiction or fantasy. It gets a little out of hand, especially when he is around those two friends of his."
Alexis and Willow snicker, then Willow swallows the last of her pastry and responds. "Good luck with that. He's always been obsessed with that stuff. He's memorized so many books and stat sheets of entirely worthless knowledge it's amazing. Maybe if he sticks around long enough we can bring him in and he can use that beautiful brain you like so much to memorize some of Giles' books."
The four of them end up walking single-file for a minute to get around other people who are smoking on the sidewalk. To the right, they can hear the thumping of some powerful speakers beating out a simple but relentless rhythm. Once they are past it, Buffy glances back irritably.
"I kinda can't wait until you have those neckpieces done that clean the air for us. I feel like I just went wading through a full ashtray."
At Alex's questioning look, Kendra nods. "It's true. An enhanced sense of smell is only sometimes a blessing. Most of the time it just makes mild annoyances into major ones."
Without even realizing it, the four have adopted a patrol pattern in their walking as the light begins to dim. Not because the sun is down, but rather because the buildings around them are tall enough that direct light can't reach anywhere. Buffy takes the lead, bouncing on the balls of her feet with barely restrained energy from the sheer volume of sugar and caffeine that she has consumed today. Alex and Willow are side by side behind them, practically walking in step with each other and holding hands. Kendra follows along a few paces behind them, keeping an eye on everyone and occasionally glancing behind herself as they go.
Alexis smirks. "Yeah, I can see that. Well, they'll be done in about another five days. But remember that you probably won't want to use them all the time. They stop the bad smells, but they also stop the good ones. And the warning ones. That's why I am building them with an on and off feature. Mental command. Besides, if I remember my health class you wouldn't want to not be able to smell food. Apparently, your senses of smell and taste are kinda in cahoots and without smell, food starts to suck or something."
Willow giggles. "Or something?"
Alex grins. "Or something. It was like three years ago, I'm amazed I remember it at all."
As they walk along they can see that many of the outlets are shutting down for the night, and the streets and sidewalks are getting more and more clear of people as they wander along taking in the sights. On the next street up, Buffy turns around and walks backward for a few steps. "So, three in three days is a bit much. Just for the sake of my sanity, can you tell me why we are hitting every zoo and aquarium on the trip?" As she asks, she jerks her thumb down the hill and back the way they came, where the Seattle aquarium sits nestled against the waterfront.
Alexis just smiles. "Looking for inspiration. The shark effigies I'm using to guard the rig are great, but I can make all kinds of stuff. I was just looking into what else I could do. Specifically, I am considering building something we could use to start cleaning out all these tunnels under Sunnydale. Did you see the footage from Daryl's helmet camera? I mean, it was a nasty smokey mess and I am sure that made it worse. But it was absolutely horrifying. I know that Henry isn't excited about sending his men down there and honestly, I'm not real thrilled about you Slayers going down there either. I mean, if there is a place in town that is specifically not conducive to a long and happy life, it's those damn tunnels."
The four walk in silence for a few seconds. Then Kendra asks the question. "Did you see anything?"
Alex offers a slight grimace. "Yes and no? I have a couple of ideas, but I was hoping to come up with something local or at least not ridiculous. Unfortunately there just isn't much around that will do the job. I mean, there are lots of animals at the zoo that would be great. I'm actually debating a crocodile or something. But if any normal people saw them it would cause a panic. Locally, about the best we've got are coyotes and the occasional cougar. Frankly, considering how stupid effigies are and the fact that the iron defenders would be tougher than an effigy that size anyway, that would be the way to go. But if I decide I don't care so much about what the regular folks see, then I have lots of options. Both from here and from, well, the game world."
Willow gives her an excited look. "You mean the monsters?"
Alex nods. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure I could make mechanical copies of a bunch of stuff from the monster manuals, and since a lot of that stuff was designed with dungeons in mind, it'd be pretty effective as a way to clean out the underground. The problem is that whatever I make, I'd need to go down there with it unless I can figure out how to pass control over to somebody else. It's a bit of an issue since I'm gonna be honest, I don't really wanna go down there." She kicks at the ground once as she walks, obviously annoyed. Then she brightens.
>>>>
The chatting and random waiting on streetlights continue as the four make their way down the road until finally they reach the truck and get in. Now they are sitting around the living room trying to decide what to do with the remainder of the day since none of them are hungry after all the snacking. Plus, they discovered the second day of their vacation that since they aren't twenty-one yet, most casual entertainment options end about eight in the evening. After spending an hour deciding what they are planning to do tomorrow, and then taking the time to watch a movie, they are all about to turn in for the evening when they hear a scream outside. Buffy and Kendra immediately turn in the direction of the sound and are on their way to the door when they hear Alex call out to them.
"Be careful. This isn't Sunnydale. Guns are a lot more likely here."
The two nod in response, hitting the back door seconds later. Willow, having turned on her microphone, is tapping away on her keyboard. Alex gives her a raised eyebrow while mentally directing the green hat pixie to open the roof hatch and release Skite and DW. Willow doesn't even look up.
"Red here. I am listening to the police radio on my other earpiece and poking around local news outlet options. Let me know when you have any information so I can refine my searches."
A few seconds later, there is a response. "Slayer here. Guys, find out what you can about, and I can't believe I am even having to say this, but dig up what you can concerning underground tunnels. We found access to one under the street in the alley around the block and based on the clanging sound we heard on approach, I'm betting they went down here.
Alex hangs her head. She knows the answer, but she has to ask. "You're going to follow them, aren't you?"
The snort in response is pure Buffy. "Already did. Left the hatch open so you can send DW down if you want. We have two ways to go and we need to find them fast before whatever it is can lose us, so we are gonna have to split up. Wish us luck."
Alex is almost crying in frustration as she sends DW after Kendra, and Skite after Buffy.
Wasn't this supposed to be a vacation?
>>>>
>> The House. Same time.
"You know, some of the stuff in the book is starting to make sense to me. And honestly, that is a little freaky." Melinda says as she strips down to go to bed.
Dawn looks up from her notes from where she is laying in her nightclothes on her bed. "How so?"
The black-haired girl shrugs as she slips into an oversized t-shirt she plans to sleep in. "Well, like the praying when you wake up, so you can get spells for the day. And a lot of the positive and negative energy bits, and how positive energy is good for life and bad for the undead, while with negative energy the reverse is true. The idea of using a strong pulse of good energy to get undead to back off, or even wipe them out if it's strong enough. I mean, I'm not saying I am an expert or anything. But it does all kinda make sense now, and it really didn't when I read it before."
Dawn shakes her head. Melinda has been 'worshiping' Janus faithfully for three days. Devouring any and all knowledge that the internet and Giles' library can produce on the subject of the god, the Roman pantheon of gods on the whole, and of course everything related to undead and vampires. But the strangest thing by far is the 'holy symbol' she created that is one of Mayor Wilkins' old campaign buttons that she has painted yellow and drawn a pair of faces on in such a way that they are both sideways and sharing the same set of eyebrows. After that, she removed the old pin from it, threaded a ribbon through the holes, and has been wearing it around her neck all the time except when they are playing in the pool. Dawn smiles.
"Do you think you are being divinely inspired, or are you just learning something from Giles' books?"
Melinda frowns. "Maybe a little of both?" She looks at Dawn and grins. "Remember, I did look him up. You were right, if there is any god out there that would want me to transition to a new beginning, and would get enough of a kick out of it to give me a hand doing it, it'd be Janus. He is a big fan of change, any kind of change. The trick seems to be making the change you want more interesting than some other possibility that you don't want." She frowns slightly. "Letting Janus get bored is a good way to get him to go a little crazy." Then she smiles. "Did you hear? If I can get this to work, Jeffery wants to try being a Chaos Paladin for Janus."
Dawn's eyes open wide. "A what Paladin?"
Melinda rolls her eyes. "He found it in one of the oddball extra books. It's an alternate class option or something. Technically it's supposed to be a 'Paladin of Freedom' but that's just a fancy way of saying that it's a really nice guy that beats evil ass, is willing to break the law to do it, and is partially powered by a god. Considering the number of laws that your sister breaks on a nightly basis I am thinking that if we ever want to be useful, having somebody trying to help that will lose his powers if he has to enter a private residence without a warrant could be a bad thing."
Dawn is shaking her head at this point. "Isn't he twelve? I could have sworn he was twelve."
Melinda shrugs. "Nope. He's thirteen. Legitimately he's almost a year younger than me, but thanks to the wonderfulness that is the school year cut of dates being really in his favor, he's in the same grade we are. The difference just seems bigger than it could be because he's kinda small for his age."
Dawn sighs, places the notebook she was sketching designs in on her bedside table and flops backward onto her pillow. "You do realize that if we try to get involved in anything before we're like thirty, my mom is going to kill us right? We'll only get away with it then if she's gotten too slow to catch us."
Melinda nods, turning out the light and laying back on her own bed. "Yeah." She smiles into the darkness. "It feels pretty good to have somebody care again."
Her smile then slowly fades into a look of determination. "But it seems like the only choices I'm being offered in this life are learning to defend myself or resigning myself to being a victim, and I am so not down with option two. Been there, done that, it sucked."
Dawn can't help but be a little moved by this, as even with her Slayer sister being involved these two new additions have been through so much more than she has.
Kidnapped by Spike and watching their friends die in a sacrifice.
Almost killed by Der Kindestod after suffering from a fever that almost cooked her alive.
Then the demons invaded the orphanage again during the Mayor's ascension and them being nearly murdered before being dropped in a room full of inquisitive clay pixies wearing hard hats.
And that's ignoring that both of them lost their parents to mysterious circumstances before they were three.
Dawn sighs a little, then rolls over to her side and curls up slightly. Yeah, they both have paid their dues and it sounds like they need to feel like they are learning how to be stronger. She gets it. Really. And in the end, she can't really blame anybody but herself, after all, she made the suggestion to learn more for self-defense-type reasons.
But did they have to go full bore the route of power by chaos god?
>>>>
Author's note.
For anyone that doesn't know, Pikes Place Market in Seattle is a real thing and possibly one of the most entertaining ways to spend a lazy Sunday that I know. Just make sure you bring money because while it is a fun time, there is nothing there that is free and it's become something of a tourist spot. So the prices are a tad inflated. Not horrible, but don't be poor when you visit.
I want to also mention for anybody growing concerned that the little player group of Dawn, Jeffery, and Melinda will not be taking over the story. They may get the odd chapter here or there, but primarily they exist because in a couple of years' storytime? I needed a way for Dawn to act out her teenage rebellion years that wasn't shoplifting. Both because it's lame and because her mother will still be alive and would have shut that down instantly. So they will have little adventures and occasionally help behind the scenes. But I have no plans to make them central to the story or write an offshoot starring them or anything.
Thanks for reading!
....yeah, Janus would be down for DMing an adventuring party of tweens on a hellmouth...
The First Amendment. Right?
Chapter 85
The First Amendment. Right?
>>>>
"Wow." Comes the voice of Willow over the headsets. "Um, I mean, Red here. Yeah, Seattle has its own wacky underground issues. It looks like there was a fire here that wiped out a bunch of the town back in 1889 and when the city planners were dealing with the cleanup they made it mandatory to raise street level like sixteen feet or something across the entire area because it was originally built too close to sea level and they had trouble with high tides and such."
There is a slight pause, and those that have worked with her know that she is quickly speed reading something and will be giving the condensed version in a moment. "So anyway, there is this network of old tunnels, basements, and such all through this part of town. Unlike Sunnydale though, all the locals know about this. They've had trouble with squatters and the criminal element setting up shop in them pretty much as long as it's been a thing. I have a special report here detailing how they got used during prohibition. There's even a little cottage industry that offers tours of cleaned-up and reinforced portions of it as a tourist attraction. But most of it is unknown and forgotten, perfect for all kinds of nastiness."
She gets cut off as Kendra breaks into the line.
"Smalls here. Slayer, I think I found the screamer, and whether I did or not I think I need a hand. This woman is in rough shape. She's out cold with a knot on her head the size of a billiard ball and her breathing is erratic."
"Slayer here, can you get her back to the trapdoor?"
There is a slight pause. "Yeah. Hurry though, I'm not sure how long she's going to make it. There is something seriously wrong with her."
Alex is at the back door to the truck when they arrive back three minutes later, and it doesn't take long under the lights of the back of the truck to see that Kendra was right. The woman, a brunette of probably thirty-five years of age, is shaking in some kind of seizure and sweating as though God himself was trying to wring all the moisture from her body. Alex panics and starts digging out wands.
"Hold her still, damn it. I don't have time I don't think to make a temp replacement if she thrashes around and snaps one of these."
The first wand has no appreciable effect. The second one seems to help a little, but then her condition deteriorates again rapidly. The third, however, seems to bring her back to a comfortable and healthy, if still a little creepy, sleep. Kendra sits down cross-legged and pulls the woman's head carefully onto her lap so it isn't against the stainless steel floor.
"What was that?"
Alex shrugs. "Something poisoned her but good. I tried to deal with a sickness first, and that did nothing. Then I tried to restore her directly to health and whatever the poison was it was still strong enough to drag her back down into dying almost instantly." Alex is still poking around her body and eventually finds a wallet in a fanny pack that was hidden under the rain slicker she was wearing. Opening it up, she immediately groans. "Okay. This is bad."
Willow nervously looks over at her. "How so? What did you find?" Alex tosses it over to her, and when she opens it she as well begins looking more than a little nervous.
Buffy decides that she has waited plenty long enough. "Well, what is it?"
Willow flips the large wallet open so they can all see it. "She's a reporter. Works for the Seattle Times. Press pass and everything."
Kendra looks down at the woman using her lap as a pillow. "Well, who is she?"
Willow flips the wallet back around and peers at it. "Margo Steinson.' Give me a few minutes and I'll see what I can dig up on her." With that, Willow disappears back into the living space on the truck.
Alex looks to Kendra and Buffy. "Can one of you close the door? I can have the wrights put together a fairly comfortable folding cot we can leave in here for her and let her recover on her own. But we are going to have to be halflings around her. We can't afford to have to try to explain the door to the interior. She's just gonna have to think we're all midgets or something."
Kendra nods as the idea makes perfect sense, and then moves Margo and herself all the way to one side of the room, allowing a portable hole to be laid out on the other. By the time Willow returns a half-hour later, the hole is put away and the poor woman is asleep comfortably on a folding wooden cot, snapped into a woolen sleeping bag of Alex's own design that helps with healing, and resting her head on a downy pillow. The rest of them at that point move back into the living area to let her sleep off whatever the affliction was and Willow tells them what she found out.
"Well, our luck holds true, that's for sure."
Seeing the look of annoyance cross her friend's faces as they are all getting tired themselves at this point, she elaborates. "Remember that Jack Burton guy that Giles was all excited about?" At her friend's nods, she continues. "Well, when all that went down in San Francisco, Margo was the reporter that broke the story. But at the same time, she was earmarked by the SFPD as a person of interest in the whole thing along with Mr. Burton, some lady named Gracie Law, and a couple of Chinese immigrants, one named Egg Shen and the other was Wang Chi. Actually, there were dozens of 'persons of interest' but those five were considered to be important. Either good or bad, depending on who wrote the individual reports, but there's one thing for sure. She wrote the stories for the paper, but she never gave up her sources or her friends."
Willow glances back at the screen on her laptop, which, in here and at her current size feels huge beyond belief. Though typing on it is a bit of a chore. "As for what this is about tonight? I think I can make a guess. She's been working the police beat for the last two years here after the San Francisco papers finally let her go for being too close to the action. Basically for being news instead of reporting it. Anyway, I took a quick peek at her columns for the last six months and she has been coming down extremely hard on a local gang of meth dealers that are suspected to be operating out of these tunnels."
Buffy sounds a little annoyed. "So this is normal crime? Giles says I'm not supposed to do anything about normal crime. Only woogy stuff, remember? He made some pretty good points about it."
Willow nods. "Yeah, I remember. I was about to come out and tell you all that and then on a lark I looked into why the Seattle Police Department hasn't done more to stop these guys."
She brings up a gallery of morgue photos on the screen for them all to see that flips between corpse after corpse of men that have been shredded, obviously with teeth and claws. All told there are twelve of them. "It turns out they have been trying. But it hasn't been going well. I don't know if it's attached to the meth dealers or not, but there's something down there that doesn't like to be disturbed. And for the record, these are only the bodies they were able to recover. There's another thirty-seven that just disappeared after saying they were following a suspect into the underground over the radio. All this over the last four years. The policy for the last six months has been to just not go down there unless the department is allowed to get serious about it, and the Mayor hasn't been willing to admit the problem is that serious because whatever it is seems to leave everybody alone if they leave it alone. As far as they know, anyway."
Alex can't help the look of disgust that graces her features. "What have they decided is chewing up their officers?"
Willow shrugs. "It depends on who files the reports, but right now the most common two theories are a pack of wild dogs or drugged-out teens, with a third possibility being both working together. I haven't found anything on an official document that would suggest a supernatural origin. So either they don't know about it, or they are doing the head in the sand hidey thing."
Alex looks around the room. "So I guess the million-dollar question is, do we stick around long enough to make sure the lady is okay and then skip town to enjoy our vacation, or do we look into this?"
There is silence for a moment. Then Buffy groans. "I think we need to look into it. If it was just actual gang members, then yeah. I could walk away. It would still suck, but we could maybe let Henry know and he could step on the local's necks until they got serious about this and shut them down. But those bodies didn't get that way from tweakers and dogs, I don't care what the reports say. There's something else down there and whatever it is..." She shares a look with Kendra, who then finishes the statement for her.
"It needs slaying."
Alex gives a weary nod. "Do you ever get the impression that we're just cursed? I mean, people go on vacations all the time. How many of them do you think end up having to deal with stuff like this?"
She pauses for a second and then continues, the rhetorical question hanging in the air to be thought about later. "I'll contact Henry in the morning and let him know what we found, and I'll talk to the guy that runs the lot about a weekly rate for the two parking slots we're taking up. Beyond that, I think I'll lock the back door up and leave the interior door open so when she wakes up I can hear her from the couch. I'll crash here. Everybody try to get some sleep, maybe? The next couple of days are going to be long I'm guessing."
>>>>
The next morning starts early for Alex as she hears a tentative "Hello? Is anybody there?" from the back of the truck. Standing and blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she checks the clock on the wall in the kitchen area. Seven in the morning. Shrugging, she moves toward the back of the truck. Early, but it could have been far worse. As soon as she clears the high-backed, overstuffed couch she can see that Margo is kneeling in front of the doorway to the truck housing area with a look of wonder on her face as she takes in all of the tiny furniture, countertops, cupboards, and implements. When she sees Alex, her jaw drops in astonishment.
Alex gives her a smile. "Hi! I'm Alex. Are you feeling any better? We heard a scream last night and when we went to investigate we found you having some kind of fit. We almost took you to the doctor, but you seemed to come down pretty fast and we didn't want to cause you problems, so we just made you comfortable and kept an eye on you for a while. Want some breakfast?"
The poor woman is looking completely out of her depth, but her eyes narrow when she happens to notice her wallet sitting on the counter. Following her eyes, Alex winces. "Sorry about that. We needed to know who you were." She pads over on her bare feet to the wallet, collects it from the counter, and hands it off to her. "Actually, that press pass was a good part of the reason that we didn't take you to the hospital last night."
Looking somewhat affronted, Margo glares at this tiny person. "And why is that?"
Alex shrugs. "Whatever was wrong with you, it was behaving a lot like an overdose. Since you seemed to be recovering alright, we didn't want to see you lose your job or get your name dragged through the mud over what looked like some kind of assault meant to discredit you."
Leaning against the counter, Ales scratches the side of her head a bit. Bedhead is always worse when it comes from a couch. "We looked into your name after we got you back here. Killing you would make you a martyr. But setting you up to die in a gutter, foaming at the mouth while an overdose of something destroys your innards would keep the layman from caring about what you had said, and stop anybody else from being willing to follow up on your work." Alex smiles again, and she can hear somebody coming down the stairs from the second floor as she does. "So, did you want some breakfast?"
Margo gives her a look and then glances through her wallet as if verifying that everything is still there. "Am I allowed to leave?"
Alex gives her a confused look, and then an apologetic one. "Oh, yes, sorry. Yeah, we locked up the truck after we brought you on. Didn't want to deal with any crazy we didn't have to. Let me grab the keys."
Alex makes her way back to the living room, where the jacket she was wearing the day before is laying across the arm of a chair. Grabbing the keys, she heads towards the back again. Margo stands abruptly when she realizes that the small woman is going to be coming through the doorway, and as she does she can see more tiny people appearing in the background. Alex walks over to the back door and reaches up just above head height to the keyhole. Undoing the lock and then twisting the lever that allows the door to open. The stairs are still down, so Margo looks out the back and recognizes instantly where she is. It's less than a hundred feet from where she got nabbed last night. Alex looks at her again with an apologetic frown.
"So, yeah. We never meant to make you feel like you were trapped. Sorry about that. Anyway, we are probably going to be doing breakfast and stuff. And I imagine that you have things to do as well. Good luck with your stories and such!"
Margo looks at the door. The little munchkin person isn't wrong. She really does have a lot to get done today. But three... No, four. There's a redheaded one hiding in the back. Four perfectly proportioned tiny people hanging out in a hugely modified truck of some kind and rescuing people in downtown Seattle is a story that doesn't come along every day.
"You're right, of course. I do have things I need to do. But I have to ask, are you going to be in the area for a while? I'd love to do an interview with the four of you. Even just a peek into the living quarters of your vehicle here with a camera could be quite the public interest piece, never mind saving my life. Which, thank you, by the way."
Buffy and Kendra both offer back big, bright smiles. It's a sad truth in a slayer's life that the situations they deal with are so crazy that the gratitude that someone might feel towards them tends to take place after. When the Slayer isn't around to hear it. Being told thank you, therefore, doesn't happen too often and feels particularly awesome when it does.
Alex, however, grimaces a little. "Actually, we're a little camera shy. And interview shy. And people shy."
When she sees the look of determination flutter across the reporter's face, she decides to up the ante and prays that Margo is still willing to be a decent human being.
"Margo, we're shy for a lot of the same reasons that Jack Burton isn't a fan of talking to the press or cops about San Francisco. Can you just let us be maybe?"
The overwhelmed woman backs up to a wall and then slides to the floor. "Is that kind of thing happening here? Is that what it is?"
Buffy steps forward. "We don't know yet. But we're going to find out. And you're going to stay out of it."
Less than ten seconds later, Margo is placed gently on the blacktop at the bottom of the stairs outside the truck, her head spinning as she tries to decide how she is going to spin this in her brain.
After all, it isn't every day that a two-and-a-half-foot-tall midget person picks her up and carries her down some steps.
>>>>
>> Initiative Headquarters. Henry Ackers office. 10 AM.
The old man sighs as he reads the email. He can't decide if he'd rather get something like this over the phone or not, at least the email doesn't require him to ask people to repeat the more absurd portions of it. What in the hell were his agents up there doing? This situation was ongoing since long before he took his new assignment. If something has been butchering law enforcement officers in that area for the last five or more years, he should have damn well been told about it.
And now the girls were preparing to go underground. Into another tight little tunnel system with an unknown critter that likes keeping the undertakers busy. And the worst part is that he can't spare anybody. He'd like to send Daryl up there at the least, but with their manpower decimated like it is, he can't afford to send anybody away from the Hellmouth for long enough to be of any use. In particular, he can't afford to send any of his few trained combat-ready personnel. As he sits there considering his options, one thing does occur to him. One thing he can offer if they'll let him. He calls Gerard into his office.
Ten minutes later a rather annoyed Sam Gerard walks into the room carrying a clipboard and a frown. "What do you need, Ackers. I need to monitor these new trainers you hired every second. They're good at what they do, but they are so used to working on the wrong side of the law that almost everything they do breaks it. More than even our remit allows."
Ackers nods in acceptance of the man's problems with an apologetic smile. "But they can teach our boys how to stay alive?"
Sam nods, a wisp of a smile creasing his weathered face for just a second. "I'd say that's likely, yeah. Their approach to every confrontation is to stack the deck so much in their favor that all they can draw is aces. A lot of little tricks of the trade."
Then he glowers. "But they are teaching our boys things like breaking into private residences if they are being chased to take advantage of the threshold and burning down locations you know to be used by demons regardless of the possible danger, trusting the fire department to clean up their mess. I've heard the phrase: 'If it really matters to them, they'll have it insured and they won't care. And if it doesn't mean that much to them, then your life is worth more.' About three hundred times in the last four days. The infuriating part is most of it I agree with in principle. But training the men to go that route as a first option is going to be a disaster."
Ackers nods, though he has a slight frown on his face as well. "I won't keep you long then." he swivels his computer screen around. "The girls found another problem on their trip. Take a look at it and tell me what you think." He passes the mouse over as well. "Don't forget to look at the attachments. They're memorable."
Five minutes later, Gerard is looking up at Ackers, his face pale after having seen the autopsy pictures of the recovered officers. "Do they know what it is?"
Ackers shrugs. "You officially know as much as I do now. I've been wracking my brain for the last twenty minutes trying to think of how to help them and I've come up almost dry."
Sam quirks an eyebrow. "Almost?"
Henry nods. "Maybe nothing. No idea if they would even go for it. But how would you feel about offering them a temporary spot in the Federal Marshals under your command? At least for the duration of their trip. Maybe we can't help them directly, but we can give them the authority to help themselves now that they're eighteen, and it will also mean that if something manages to go spectacularly wrong, we can shield them from the worst of it."
Sam scowls. "It's not that I think they don't deserve it, but they don't have the training. They don't even know enough to know what authority the badge would actually grant them. We would need to have at least one real Marshal along for the ride if we go that route, so they don't let their lips overload their asses."
Ackers looks down. "Well, you make a good point. It was only an idea. And I'll admit to some hypocrisy here because I was leaning away from a bureau badge for pretty much the same reason."
Sam drums his fingers on the desk. "How would you feel about reading in my old team? Since I was pulled away to do this most of them are kind of at loose ends anyway, shuffling paperwork in one place or another. They won't be combat personnel. Not in Sunnydale. But they are good at running things down and they worked with me for years. They don't take shit from the local LEO's or anybody else."
Ackers considers for a minute. "You think they would be interested in an assignment like this?"
Gerard smirks a the man. "I think that for a chance to actually work again instead of having to read other people's reports for the last ten years until retirement, Poole would gladly sign on just about any dotted line you put in front of her. Last I heard the woman was losing her mind as a paper pusher in DC. The rest I'm not sure of, but at the least I can promise you they know how to keep their mouths shut."
Henry nods. "Okay then. Call them in. We'll need them here within a couple of days if they are going to be of any use in Seattle I'm guessing. So don't waste any time."
>>>>
Author's note.
Just for the record, I am only using the team he had from "The fugitive." Nothing against 'US Marshals' as a movie, but the team he had with him didn't make as much of an impression the one time I saw it for whatever reason. So for my purposes, it didn't happen.
The First Amendment. Right?
>>>>
"Wow." Comes the voice of Willow over the headsets. "Um, I mean, Red here. Yeah, Seattle has its own wacky underground issues. It looks like there was a fire here that wiped out a bunch of the town back in 1889 and when the city planners were dealing with the cleanup they made it mandatory to raise street level like sixteen feet or something across the entire area because it was originally built too close to sea level and they had trouble with high tides and such."
There is a slight pause, and those that have worked with her know that she is quickly speed reading something and will be giving the condensed version in a moment. "So anyway, there is this network of old tunnels, basements, and such all through this part of town. Unlike Sunnydale though, all the locals know about this. They've had trouble with squatters and the criminal element setting up shop in them pretty much as long as it's been a thing. I have a special report here detailing how they got used during prohibition. There's even a little cottage industry that offers tours of cleaned-up and reinforced portions of it as a tourist attraction. But most of it is unknown and forgotten, perfect for all kinds of nastiness."
She gets cut off as Kendra breaks into the line.
"Smalls here. Slayer, I think I found the screamer, and whether I did or not I think I need a hand. This woman is in rough shape. She's out cold with a knot on her head the size of a billiard ball and her breathing is erratic."
"Slayer here, can you get her back to the trapdoor?"
There is a slight pause. "Yeah. Hurry though, I'm not sure how long she's going to make it. There is something seriously wrong with her."
Alex is at the back door to the truck when they arrive back three minutes later, and it doesn't take long under the lights of the back of the truck to see that Kendra was right. The woman, a brunette of probably thirty-five years of age, is shaking in some kind of seizure and sweating as though God himself was trying to wring all the moisture from her body. Alex panics and starts digging out wands.
"Hold her still, damn it. I don't have time I don't think to make a temp replacement if she thrashes around and snaps one of these."
The first wand has no appreciable effect. The second one seems to help a little, but then her condition deteriorates again rapidly. The third, however, seems to bring her back to a comfortable and healthy, if still a little creepy, sleep. Kendra sits down cross-legged and pulls the woman's head carefully onto her lap so it isn't against the stainless steel floor.
"What was that?"
Alex shrugs. "Something poisoned her but good. I tried to deal with a sickness first, and that did nothing. Then I tried to restore her directly to health and whatever the poison was it was still strong enough to drag her back down into dying almost instantly." Alex is still poking around her body and eventually finds a wallet in a fanny pack that was hidden under the rain slicker she was wearing. Opening it up, she immediately groans. "Okay. This is bad."
Willow nervously looks over at her. "How so? What did you find?" Alex tosses it over to her, and when she opens it she as well begins looking more than a little nervous.
Buffy decides that she has waited plenty long enough. "Well, what is it?"
Willow flips the large wallet open so they can all see it. "She's a reporter. Works for the Seattle Times. Press pass and everything."
Kendra looks down at the woman using her lap as a pillow. "Well, who is she?"
Willow flips the wallet back around and peers at it. "Margo Steinson.' Give me a few minutes and I'll see what I can dig up on her." With that, Willow disappears back into the living space on the truck.
Alex looks to Kendra and Buffy. "Can one of you close the door? I can have the wrights put together a fairly comfortable folding cot we can leave in here for her and let her recover on her own. But we are going to have to be halflings around her. We can't afford to have to try to explain the door to the interior. She's just gonna have to think we're all midgets or something."
Kendra nods as the idea makes perfect sense, and then moves Margo and herself all the way to one side of the room, allowing a portable hole to be laid out on the other. By the time Willow returns a half-hour later, the hole is put away and the poor woman is asleep comfortably on a folding wooden cot, snapped into a woolen sleeping bag of Alex's own design that helps with healing, and resting her head on a downy pillow. The rest of them at that point move back into the living area to let her sleep off whatever the affliction was and Willow tells them what she found out.
"Well, our luck holds true, that's for sure."
Seeing the look of annoyance cross her friend's faces as they are all getting tired themselves at this point, she elaborates. "Remember that Jack Burton guy that Giles was all excited about?" At her friend's nods, she continues. "Well, when all that went down in San Francisco, Margo was the reporter that broke the story. But at the same time, she was earmarked by the SFPD as a person of interest in the whole thing along with Mr. Burton, some lady named Gracie Law, and a couple of Chinese immigrants, one named Egg Shen and the other was Wang Chi. Actually, there were dozens of 'persons of interest' but those five were considered to be important. Either good or bad, depending on who wrote the individual reports, but there's one thing for sure. She wrote the stories for the paper, but she never gave up her sources or her friends."
Willow glances back at the screen on her laptop, which, in here and at her current size feels huge beyond belief. Though typing on it is a bit of a chore. "As for what this is about tonight? I think I can make a guess. She's been working the police beat for the last two years here after the San Francisco papers finally let her go for being too close to the action. Basically for being news instead of reporting it. Anyway, I took a quick peek at her columns for the last six months and she has been coming down extremely hard on a local gang of meth dealers that are suspected to be operating out of these tunnels."
Buffy sounds a little annoyed. "So this is normal crime? Giles says I'm not supposed to do anything about normal crime. Only woogy stuff, remember? He made some pretty good points about it."
Willow nods. "Yeah, I remember. I was about to come out and tell you all that and then on a lark I looked into why the Seattle Police Department hasn't done more to stop these guys."
She brings up a gallery of morgue photos on the screen for them all to see that flips between corpse after corpse of men that have been shredded, obviously with teeth and claws. All told there are twelve of them. "It turns out they have been trying. But it hasn't been going well. I don't know if it's attached to the meth dealers or not, but there's something down there that doesn't like to be disturbed. And for the record, these are only the bodies they were able to recover. There's another thirty-seven that just disappeared after saying they were following a suspect into the underground over the radio. All this over the last four years. The policy for the last six months has been to just not go down there unless the department is allowed to get serious about it, and the Mayor hasn't been willing to admit the problem is that serious because whatever it is seems to leave everybody alone if they leave it alone. As far as they know, anyway."
Alex can't help the look of disgust that graces her features. "What have they decided is chewing up their officers?"
Willow shrugs. "It depends on who files the reports, but right now the most common two theories are a pack of wild dogs or drugged-out teens, with a third possibility being both working together. I haven't found anything on an official document that would suggest a supernatural origin. So either they don't know about it, or they are doing the head in the sand hidey thing."
Alex looks around the room. "So I guess the million-dollar question is, do we stick around long enough to make sure the lady is okay and then skip town to enjoy our vacation, or do we look into this?"
There is silence for a moment. Then Buffy groans. "I think we need to look into it. If it was just actual gang members, then yeah. I could walk away. It would still suck, but we could maybe let Henry know and he could step on the local's necks until they got serious about this and shut them down. But those bodies didn't get that way from tweakers and dogs, I don't care what the reports say. There's something else down there and whatever it is..." She shares a look with Kendra, who then finishes the statement for her.
"It needs slaying."
Alex gives a weary nod. "Do you ever get the impression that we're just cursed? I mean, people go on vacations all the time. How many of them do you think end up having to deal with stuff like this?"
She pauses for a second and then continues, the rhetorical question hanging in the air to be thought about later. "I'll contact Henry in the morning and let him know what we found, and I'll talk to the guy that runs the lot about a weekly rate for the two parking slots we're taking up. Beyond that, I think I'll lock the back door up and leave the interior door open so when she wakes up I can hear her from the couch. I'll crash here. Everybody try to get some sleep, maybe? The next couple of days are going to be long I'm guessing."
>>>>
The next morning starts early for Alex as she hears a tentative "Hello? Is anybody there?" from the back of the truck. Standing and blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she checks the clock on the wall in the kitchen area. Seven in the morning. Shrugging, she moves toward the back of the truck. Early, but it could have been far worse. As soon as she clears the high-backed, overstuffed couch she can see that Margo is kneeling in front of the doorway to the truck housing area with a look of wonder on her face as she takes in all of the tiny furniture, countertops, cupboards, and implements. When she sees Alex, her jaw drops in astonishment.
Alex gives her a smile. "Hi! I'm Alex. Are you feeling any better? We heard a scream last night and when we went to investigate we found you having some kind of fit. We almost took you to the doctor, but you seemed to come down pretty fast and we didn't want to cause you problems, so we just made you comfortable and kept an eye on you for a while. Want some breakfast?"
The poor woman is looking completely out of her depth, but her eyes narrow when she happens to notice her wallet sitting on the counter. Following her eyes, Alex winces. "Sorry about that. We needed to know who you were." She pads over on her bare feet to the wallet, collects it from the counter, and hands it off to her. "Actually, that press pass was a good part of the reason that we didn't take you to the hospital last night."
Looking somewhat affronted, Margo glares at this tiny person. "And why is that?"
Alex shrugs. "Whatever was wrong with you, it was behaving a lot like an overdose. Since you seemed to be recovering alright, we didn't want to see you lose your job or get your name dragged through the mud over what looked like some kind of assault meant to discredit you."
Leaning against the counter, Ales scratches the side of her head a bit. Bedhead is always worse when it comes from a couch. "We looked into your name after we got you back here. Killing you would make you a martyr. But setting you up to die in a gutter, foaming at the mouth while an overdose of something destroys your innards would keep the layman from caring about what you had said, and stop anybody else from being willing to follow up on your work." Alex smiles again, and she can hear somebody coming down the stairs from the second floor as she does. "So, did you want some breakfast?"
Margo gives her a look and then glances through her wallet as if verifying that everything is still there. "Am I allowed to leave?"
Alex gives her a confused look, and then an apologetic one. "Oh, yes, sorry. Yeah, we locked up the truck after we brought you on. Didn't want to deal with any crazy we didn't have to. Let me grab the keys."
Alex makes her way back to the living room, where the jacket she was wearing the day before is laying across the arm of a chair. Grabbing the keys, she heads towards the back again. Margo stands abruptly when she realizes that the small woman is going to be coming through the doorway, and as she does she can see more tiny people appearing in the background. Alex walks over to the back door and reaches up just above head height to the keyhole. Undoing the lock and then twisting the lever that allows the door to open. The stairs are still down, so Margo looks out the back and recognizes instantly where she is. It's less than a hundred feet from where she got nabbed last night. Alex looks at her again with an apologetic frown.
"So, yeah. We never meant to make you feel like you were trapped. Sorry about that. Anyway, we are probably going to be doing breakfast and stuff. And I imagine that you have things to do as well. Good luck with your stories and such!"
Margo looks at the door. The little munchkin person isn't wrong. She really does have a lot to get done today. But three... No, four. There's a redheaded one hiding in the back. Four perfectly proportioned tiny people hanging out in a hugely modified truck of some kind and rescuing people in downtown Seattle is a story that doesn't come along every day.
"You're right, of course. I do have things I need to do. But I have to ask, are you going to be in the area for a while? I'd love to do an interview with the four of you. Even just a peek into the living quarters of your vehicle here with a camera could be quite the public interest piece, never mind saving my life. Which, thank you, by the way."
Buffy and Kendra both offer back big, bright smiles. It's a sad truth in a slayer's life that the situations they deal with are so crazy that the gratitude that someone might feel towards them tends to take place after. When the Slayer isn't around to hear it. Being told thank you, therefore, doesn't happen too often and feels particularly awesome when it does.
Alex, however, grimaces a little. "Actually, we're a little camera shy. And interview shy. And people shy."
When she sees the look of determination flutter across the reporter's face, she decides to up the ante and prays that Margo is still willing to be a decent human being.
"Margo, we're shy for a lot of the same reasons that Jack Burton isn't a fan of talking to the press or cops about San Francisco. Can you just let us be maybe?"
The overwhelmed woman backs up to a wall and then slides to the floor. "Is that kind of thing happening here? Is that what it is?"
Buffy steps forward. "We don't know yet. But we're going to find out. And you're going to stay out of it."
Less than ten seconds later, Margo is placed gently on the blacktop at the bottom of the stairs outside the truck, her head spinning as she tries to decide how she is going to spin this in her brain.
After all, it isn't every day that a two-and-a-half-foot-tall midget person picks her up and carries her down some steps.
>>>>
>> Initiative Headquarters. Henry Ackers office. 10 AM.
The old man sighs as he reads the email. He can't decide if he'd rather get something like this over the phone or not, at least the email doesn't require him to ask people to repeat the more absurd portions of it. What in the hell were his agents up there doing? This situation was ongoing since long before he took his new assignment. If something has been butchering law enforcement officers in that area for the last five or more years, he should have damn well been told about it.
And now the girls were preparing to go underground. Into another tight little tunnel system with an unknown critter that likes keeping the undertakers busy. And the worst part is that he can't spare anybody. He'd like to send Daryl up there at the least, but with their manpower decimated like it is, he can't afford to send anybody away from the Hellmouth for long enough to be of any use. In particular, he can't afford to send any of his few trained combat-ready personnel. As he sits there considering his options, one thing does occur to him. One thing he can offer if they'll let him. He calls Gerard into his office.
Ten minutes later a rather annoyed Sam Gerard walks into the room carrying a clipboard and a frown. "What do you need, Ackers. I need to monitor these new trainers you hired every second. They're good at what they do, but they are so used to working on the wrong side of the law that almost everything they do breaks it. More than even our remit allows."
Ackers nods in acceptance of the man's problems with an apologetic smile. "But they can teach our boys how to stay alive?"
Sam nods, a wisp of a smile creasing his weathered face for just a second. "I'd say that's likely, yeah. Their approach to every confrontation is to stack the deck so much in their favor that all they can draw is aces. A lot of little tricks of the trade."
Then he glowers. "But they are teaching our boys things like breaking into private residences if they are being chased to take advantage of the threshold and burning down locations you know to be used by demons regardless of the possible danger, trusting the fire department to clean up their mess. I've heard the phrase: 'If it really matters to them, they'll have it insured and they won't care. And if it doesn't mean that much to them, then your life is worth more.' About three hundred times in the last four days. The infuriating part is most of it I agree with in principle. But training the men to go that route as a first option is going to be a disaster."
Ackers nods, though he has a slight frown on his face as well. "I won't keep you long then." he swivels his computer screen around. "The girls found another problem on their trip. Take a look at it and tell me what you think." He passes the mouse over as well. "Don't forget to look at the attachments. They're memorable."
Five minutes later, Gerard is looking up at Ackers, his face pale after having seen the autopsy pictures of the recovered officers. "Do they know what it is?"
Ackers shrugs. "You officially know as much as I do now. I've been wracking my brain for the last twenty minutes trying to think of how to help them and I've come up almost dry."
Sam quirks an eyebrow. "Almost?"
Henry nods. "Maybe nothing. No idea if they would even go for it. But how would you feel about offering them a temporary spot in the Federal Marshals under your command? At least for the duration of their trip. Maybe we can't help them directly, but we can give them the authority to help themselves now that they're eighteen, and it will also mean that if something manages to go spectacularly wrong, we can shield them from the worst of it."
Sam scowls. "It's not that I think they don't deserve it, but they don't have the training. They don't even know enough to know what authority the badge would actually grant them. We would need to have at least one real Marshal along for the ride if we go that route, so they don't let their lips overload their asses."
Ackers looks down. "Well, you make a good point. It was only an idea. And I'll admit to some hypocrisy here because I was leaning away from a bureau badge for pretty much the same reason."
Sam drums his fingers on the desk. "How would you feel about reading in my old team? Since I was pulled away to do this most of them are kind of at loose ends anyway, shuffling paperwork in one place or another. They won't be combat personnel. Not in Sunnydale. But they are good at running things down and they worked with me for years. They don't take shit from the local LEO's or anybody else."
Ackers considers for a minute. "You think they would be interested in an assignment like this?"
Gerard smirks a the man. "I think that for a chance to actually work again instead of having to read other people's reports for the last ten years until retirement, Poole would gladly sign on just about any dotted line you put in front of her. Last I heard the woman was losing her mind as a paper pusher in DC. The rest I'm not sure of, but at the least I can promise you they know how to keep their mouths shut."
Henry nods. "Okay then. Call them in. We'll need them here within a couple of days if they are going to be of any use in Seattle I'm guessing. So don't waste any time."
>>>>
Author's note.
Just for the record, I am only using the team he had from "The fugitive." Nothing against 'US Marshals' as a movie, but the team he had with him didn't make as much of an impression the one time I saw it for whatever reason. So for my purposes, it didn't happen.
Delay Tactics.
Chapter 86
Delay Tactics.
>>>>
"Okay Giles, what do you got for us?" Buffy says in the direction of the microphone set up on the coffee table when they are all getting back together at three in the afternoon.
Giles' voice comes back across the line sounding somewhat vexed. "Nothing you couldn't have figured out for yourself, unfortunately. Whatever killed these men was fond of using teeth and claws. Furthermore, we have managed to acquire some basic idea of the size and possible strength we are dealing with based on the wounds received. But sadly, nothing about these cadavers makes them stand out. If I had access to a fresh victim, perhaps Diana or I could be of more use. But going by photographs and coroner reports there are simply too many options. What I can tell you is that the creature is strong, but I don't believe it to be significantly stronger than a fledgling vampire. It does appear to be fast, however. And the claws and teeth it uses quite sharp, and come to points."
Diana speaks up at this point. "From what little I have managed to learn from the autopsy reports, the teeth are atypical for something we would normally expect to be hunting in a tunnel. They are backward-curved, and as Giles says, come to a sharp point though there is evidence of some serration towards the ends. There are lizards that have such teeth, but by far it is found most often in aquatic species where keeping grip on a prey item is of utmost importance, lest something else steal your kill. Given the nature of the tunnels that these bodies are found in and the likely access to saltwater, I would be very careful. As Giles says there are too many options to narrow it much further, but opening up the possibilities to things that may try to drag you underwater is unpleasant at best."
Jenny is the next to speak up. "Between Willow and myself we've managed to put together a partial map of the underground. It isn't complete by any stretch of the imagination, and a lot of what we have here could have been filled in, blocked-off, or collapsed at some point since the records we got into were made. A lot of these we had to dig out of the city planners and police department files, and they're based largely on documents that are fifty years old or better. So don't count on anything, but it should give you a starting point. Other than that, the only other thing I have found of particular note is that there is a lot more than drugs and monsters going on underground there. Based on the missing persons, death statistics, and police reports, things have actually been going downhill in that area since somewhere around October of 1992. Whether or not there is anything significant about that time I really couldn't say, since I'm not able to lock the time frame down any better than that. I have some feelers out in the community though, I'll let you know if I hear anything."
Alex sighs. "So we have a map we can't count on. A monster we don't know what it is. An area that has been going to hell for something like seven years and is another underground tunnel that also happens to be right next to the water. A really good chance the area we will be dealing with will have armed drug dealers crawling around in it that are probably a delightful combination of paranoid and hyper-aggressive. I'm still down an Iron Defender from the ascension. A member of the press is taking an entirely unwholesome interest in us. And for the bonus, we're too far from Sunnydale to realistically get any backup. Is there any good news?"
There is silence for nearly ten seconds. Then Giles speaks. "Not as such, no."
After the silence stretches for nearly a minute, Buffy smirks. "So, same as usual then. Wish us luck, we'll keep you in the loop."
Giles's voice comes back, this time somewhat exasperated. "Please be careful, all of you. I've grown rather fond. I shall be most upset if you come back broken, or not at all."
And with that, the Willow ends the call. "So, what are we going to do?"
Alex, who has been going over the map that Willow printed off in sections and taped together earlier, points at a point near the middle, but slightly to the north side of the affected area. "That is where we are now. With a mile range on the headsets, that gives us two miles across and we lucked into a pretty good spot here. It doesn't look like the truck needs to move at all for Willow and me to support you with the homunculi and information. But without going down there with you, that's really all we can do. If I start trying to pace your underground patrol with this truck it is going to look like the most suspicious thing ever and all it's going to do is call attention to us."
Willow nods. "Also, remember that a lot of these areas have been sealed for a really long time. There have been reports of gasses of one sort or another building up in some places. I get the impression that if you are close to an exit you are probably okay, but if you start opening doors or hatches or anything you could run into a situation where a lit match could cause serious explodeyness. And if you start feeling dizzy or sick at all, even if you can't smell anything, get out of there. Some of the gasses that displace oxygen don't necessarily have much of a scent. So you could be somewhere that you seem to be breathing just fine, but your body is running out of oxygen anyway."
Kendra frowns at that. "How long until the necklaces are done again?"
Alex offers her an apologetic look. "About four more days. But if you want to wait until they're finished I am pretty okay with that. Between possible gas and water hazards, it makes sense to me to hold off."
Buffy looks at the floor for a few seconds then sighs, blowing her breath out hard enough to push her bangs out of the way. "How about we spend the four days just verifying the map we have, staying close to exits, and poking around for more clues? I don't like the idea of doing nothing for four days, but I can see the need to wait before we get too crazy."
Alex nods. "If you like, I can make some more of those stones spelled up for permanent flame. It wouldn't take much to kludge together some kind of shoulder mount for you two so you have a light source down there. One for each shoulder for each of you should give you enough light to get by with. Honestly, we got lucky you found the reporter fast last night. Those little L.E.D. lights that the initiative supplied us for the helmets are kinda cute, but they cut your peripheral vision even more than the helms do. At some point, I'll have to see if I can get you set up with Darkvision."
Willow grins. "You think it'll work?"
Buffy glances between the two curiously. "What is it?"
Willow offers a big smirk. "It's how the homunculus see in total darkness like the portable shops unless they have one of the lights out for whatever reason. You can't see color, only shapes. And generally, the range isn't great. Most things that have it can only use it out to thirty or sixty feet. But you can see with it in absolute darkness. Only magical darkness can stop it. If you had that, you could skulk in tunnels and actually be stealthy at the same time."
Kendra nods. "Yes. Yes, I want this thing. Why do we not already have it? The ability sounds most impressive."
Alex shrugs and looks again at the map. "Because they take three weeks to make for each set of goggles and each pair costs like thirty-six thousand dollars in our money. Since we didn't have any plans to go into the tunnels, it's been a low priority. Especially with the night vision you Slayer types come with standard. It's on the list, but it just hasn't been important enough yet. Remember, you are all still wearing armor that is now two steps under what I can make, and your weapons can get a serious upgrade too." She glances back up at them, her face a combination of weariness and frustration. "It's all time and money. I do the best I can."
Kendra stammers out an apology, and silence engulfs the room for a moment as the two Slayers and Willow, for the first time in a long while, get a chance to see just how tired Alexis really is. It's a side of herself she doesn't allow to show very often, but having the woes of the entire group more or less her responsibility, self-inflicted or not, has taken its toll. After a moment, Alex offers a tentative grin. "How about we just take it easy today? Go shopping. We need to restock the cupboards anyway. It'll get us one day closer to the neckpieces being done, and I think we deserve a little vacation in our vacation."
Buffy opens her mouth as if to protest as Alex looks back down to the maps, but shuts her mouth when Willow nudges her from the side. Taking a closer look at Alexis and suddenly realizing just how badly everybody, even the Slayers, have been leaning on her and how long they have been doing it... She gives Willow the slightest of nods and instead says: "Yeah, that sounds good. We'll hit the market and then chill for the night."
Alex's look of gratitude is heart-rending.
>>>>
>> Initiative Headquarters, Coms room. 4 PM.
Henry stares at the satellite connection equipment with what can only be called a look of dread. He'll be in a conference call within the next few minutes with the President and Admiral Linmeyer.
And they weren't willing to tell him what it was about, so it's a given that he isn't going to like it.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the light flashes green. Out of habit, Ackers makes it a point to make sure he is alone in the room. Then he flicks the switch.
"Director Henry Ackers speaking."
The voice on the line isn't the President, but he does recognize it. The man is one of the President's many handlers.
"Director, can I ask you to hold for just a moment while I connect you to the President?"
Ackers takes the two seconds to make sure on the screen that the proper codes were punched in and then answers.
"That will be fine."
There is a click, followed by ten seconds of dead air, and then the President comes on the line.
"Henry. Thanks for making it, we have a lot to go over. For the record, I have Admiral Linmeyer and the Vice in here with me. He won't be participating directly, but I made him my running mate for a reason and frankly, if something does happen to me we need him to know what is going on. So he'll be sitting in on these meetings from now on."
There is some kind of half snort, half chuckle from somebody on the line at being referred to as 'The Vice' but otherwise, the conversation continues unabated.
"Henry, I have reports here that you have condemned the old high school on grounds of some kind of explosive chemical spill and are planning to level the building and throw a wall around it? With a small outpost stationed on a new structure that you are building out on what was the football field. Is that right?"
Ackers puts down his cup of coffee. "Yes, Mr. President. That is correct."
There is a moment's pause on the line. Then the president comes back on. "And why exactly is that the plan again? I read your report, but I got lost in the explanation. Something about a planer convergence or something?"
Ackers drums his fingers on the desk twice trying to figure out how to say this. "Mr. President, the school itself sits over what our expert has called 'A place where the walls between dimensions are thin.' It's the Hellmouth, Sir. It's the reason the mayor's ascension had to happen there. It's the reason that demons have tried to open us up to hell dimensions and wipe us off the earth at least twice in the last three years on that spot. The plan is an orderly removal of the structure and then a six-foot-deep reinforced concrete slab that covers the spot for at least a hundred feet in all directions with plenty of surveillance on it, then a significant wall around that. Something in the ten to fifteen-foot range with a footpath on top. We plan to call it a monument to the people that died in the chemical spill and the riot that followed it. The citizenry might think it's stupid, but I have faith they'll buy it."
Linmeyer's voice comes over the line. "So that's it then? You are going to plug the hole? Solve the problem?"
Ackers laughs. "Sorry. No, that would be nice, but no. We can make it difficult for demons to get to it, and easier for us to deal with if they do. But in the end, we can't actually close the Hellmouth. It will still give off the energies that draw demons here. I am given to understand that these Hellmouths are a lot like a volcano, Admiral. You can learn about them, you can take precautions against getting caught out by one. But in the end, they erupt where they want, when they want, for as long as they want and all we can really do is try to mitigate the damage."
The Admiral breaks in at this point. "I agree, Ackers. I've read every scrap of paper that you or that Giles fellow was willing to give me." Then there is a pause for a few seconds. Long enough to get Henry worried. He is about to say something when Linmeyer continues.
"Henry, I realize I maybe didn't make the best impression with you people. I suppose I earned that and I apologize. But at the end of the day, I didn't earn my rank by being a fool. Once I had the information, I broke it down into symptoms that a normal, run-of-the-mill, Naval intelligence unit could use and I turned 'em loose on it."
There is another pause, and Ackers could swear that he hears something mumbled on the other end but can't make it out.
"What they brought back to me was pretty horrifying. I had them run the records back more than ninety years. Until the turn of the century. In that time we've lost at least four thousand five hundred seamen under circumstances that given this knowledge are strange enough to warrant a closer look. And Henry? The Navy came in third. Both the Army and the Marines have been hit far, far worse by this phenomenon. The only branch of the big four that is relatively untouched is the Air Force."
There is silence for a few seconds as Linmeyer lets that information wash over them.
"I'm not asking to take over your operation. Hell, I don't think I want it. But we need people trained up enough to at least be able to find trouble spots and get our people clear of them when they appear. If we can deal with the issue, great. But we need to at least be able to know."
Henry is about to speak when the President comes back on the line.
"Henry, I know that you feel you have a responsibility to protect your contractors. But ask them, at least, if they'd be willing to pass along the cliffs notes version for the specialists we are trying to put together. And Henry, if they won't do it, that's fine. This is the United States. Not some dictatorial third-world pit. But that being said, You've already signed on the dotted line. So if you can't talk them into it, then training the people Linmeyer sends will be your job. So think about that while he makes his pitch."
Linmeyer sounds almost apologetic when he comes back on the line. "I'd like to put your mind at ease, to start with. I am not expecting you to take my men on patrol with you. My men are members of the United States Navy in good standing, and I won't drum them out of the service even temporarily so they can go die on your Hellmouth. What I am asking for is the kind of training that can be done at a desk. Maybe an armory and firing range. The people I am going to be sending you already know how to fight, and from what I understand of the enemy getting better at beating on things with their fists is going to be of limited use here anyway. But I need people that have the knowledge. My hope was that I could give you two weeks to hash out a beginners course and then I could send you ten men that would live, eat, and work in whatever non-combat capacity you need while they are learning what they need to know. I'm hoping that the basic training for this kind of thing can be condensed down to four to six weeks at the outside. I'd like to be able to cycle through the fifty men I have my eye on before the new year if I can."
The president comes back on again.
"And Henry? Please remember that while I have no intention of assigning military personnel to you on a permanent basis, if we have fifty fighting men that know what's going on and another situation like this ascension crops up, then we'll potentially have fifty more highly trained men we can drop on it."
Ackers sighs. He still thinks this is all going to end in the biggest, saltiest tears ever. But his time to stall, complain, and deflect is over. He's been given orders now, and so there's only really one thing to say.
"Yes Sir. I'll get back to you as soon as I've worked out a basic training program."
Delay Tactics.
>>>>
"Okay Giles, what do you got for us?" Buffy says in the direction of the microphone set up on the coffee table when they are all getting back together at three in the afternoon.
Giles' voice comes back across the line sounding somewhat vexed. "Nothing you couldn't have figured out for yourself, unfortunately. Whatever killed these men was fond of using teeth and claws. Furthermore, we have managed to acquire some basic idea of the size and possible strength we are dealing with based on the wounds received. But sadly, nothing about these cadavers makes them stand out. If I had access to a fresh victim, perhaps Diana or I could be of more use. But going by photographs and coroner reports there are simply too many options. What I can tell you is that the creature is strong, but I don't believe it to be significantly stronger than a fledgling vampire. It does appear to be fast, however. And the claws and teeth it uses quite sharp, and come to points."
Diana speaks up at this point. "From what little I have managed to learn from the autopsy reports, the teeth are atypical for something we would normally expect to be hunting in a tunnel. They are backward-curved, and as Giles says, come to a sharp point though there is evidence of some serration towards the ends. There are lizards that have such teeth, but by far it is found most often in aquatic species where keeping grip on a prey item is of utmost importance, lest something else steal your kill. Given the nature of the tunnels that these bodies are found in and the likely access to saltwater, I would be very careful. As Giles says there are too many options to narrow it much further, but opening up the possibilities to things that may try to drag you underwater is unpleasant at best."
Jenny is the next to speak up. "Between Willow and myself we've managed to put together a partial map of the underground. It isn't complete by any stretch of the imagination, and a lot of what we have here could have been filled in, blocked-off, or collapsed at some point since the records we got into were made. A lot of these we had to dig out of the city planners and police department files, and they're based largely on documents that are fifty years old or better. So don't count on anything, but it should give you a starting point. Other than that, the only other thing I have found of particular note is that there is a lot more than drugs and monsters going on underground there. Based on the missing persons, death statistics, and police reports, things have actually been going downhill in that area since somewhere around October of 1992. Whether or not there is anything significant about that time I really couldn't say, since I'm not able to lock the time frame down any better than that. I have some feelers out in the community though, I'll let you know if I hear anything."
Alex sighs. "So we have a map we can't count on. A monster we don't know what it is. An area that has been going to hell for something like seven years and is another underground tunnel that also happens to be right next to the water. A really good chance the area we will be dealing with will have armed drug dealers crawling around in it that are probably a delightful combination of paranoid and hyper-aggressive. I'm still down an Iron Defender from the ascension. A member of the press is taking an entirely unwholesome interest in us. And for the bonus, we're too far from Sunnydale to realistically get any backup. Is there any good news?"
There is silence for nearly ten seconds. Then Giles speaks. "Not as such, no."
After the silence stretches for nearly a minute, Buffy smirks. "So, same as usual then. Wish us luck, we'll keep you in the loop."
Giles's voice comes back, this time somewhat exasperated. "Please be careful, all of you. I've grown rather fond. I shall be most upset if you come back broken, or not at all."
And with that, the Willow ends the call. "So, what are we going to do?"
Alex, who has been going over the map that Willow printed off in sections and taped together earlier, points at a point near the middle, but slightly to the north side of the affected area. "That is where we are now. With a mile range on the headsets, that gives us two miles across and we lucked into a pretty good spot here. It doesn't look like the truck needs to move at all for Willow and me to support you with the homunculi and information. But without going down there with you, that's really all we can do. If I start trying to pace your underground patrol with this truck it is going to look like the most suspicious thing ever and all it's going to do is call attention to us."
Willow nods. "Also, remember that a lot of these areas have been sealed for a really long time. There have been reports of gasses of one sort or another building up in some places. I get the impression that if you are close to an exit you are probably okay, but if you start opening doors or hatches or anything you could run into a situation where a lit match could cause serious explodeyness. And if you start feeling dizzy or sick at all, even if you can't smell anything, get out of there. Some of the gasses that displace oxygen don't necessarily have much of a scent. So you could be somewhere that you seem to be breathing just fine, but your body is running out of oxygen anyway."
Kendra frowns at that. "How long until the necklaces are done again?"
Alex offers her an apologetic look. "About four more days. But if you want to wait until they're finished I am pretty okay with that. Between possible gas and water hazards, it makes sense to me to hold off."
Buffy looks at the floor for a few seconds then sighs, blowing her breath out hard enough to push her bangs out of the way. "How about we spend the four days just verifying the map we have, staying close to exits, and poking around for more clues? I don't like the idea of doing nothing for four days, but I can see the need to wait before we get too crazy."
Alex nods. "If you like, I can make some more of those stones spelled up for permanent flame. It wouldn't take much to kludge together some kind of shoulder mount for you two so you have a light source down there. One for each shoulder for each of you should give you enough light to get by with. Honestly, we got lucky you found the reporter fast last night. Those little L.E.D. lights that the initiative supplied us for the helmets are kinda cute, but they cut your peripheral vision even more than the helms do. At some point, I'll have to see if I can get you set up with Darkvision."
Willow grins. "You think it'll work?"
Buffy glances between the two curiously. "What is it?"
Willow offers a big smirk. "It's how the homunculus see in total darkness like the portable shops unless they have one of the lights out for whatever reason. You can't see color, only shapes. And generally, the range isn't great. Most things that have it can only use it out to thirty or sixty feet. But you can see with it in absolute darkness. Only magical darkness can stop it. If you had that, you could skulk in tunnels and actually be stealthy at the same time."
Kendra nods. "Yes. Yes, I want this thing. Why do we not already have it? The ability sounds most impressive."
Alex shrugs and looks again at the map. "Because they take three weeks to make for each set of goggles and each pair costs like thirty-six thousand dollars in our money. Since we didn't have any plans to go into the tunnels, it's been a low priority. Especially with the night vision you Slayer types come with standard. It's on the list, but it just hasn't been important enough yet. Remember, you are all still wearing armor that is now two steps under what I can make, and your weapons can get a serious upgrade too." She glances back up at them, her face a combination of weariness and frustration. "It's all time and money. I do the best I can."
Kendra stammers out an apology, and silence engulfs the room for a moment as the two Slayers and Willow, for the first time in a long while, get a chance to see just how tired Alexis really is. It's a side of herself she doesn't allow to show very often, but having the woes of the entire group more or less her responsibility, self-inflicted or not, has taken its toll. After a moment, Alex offers a tentative grin. "How about we just take it easy today? Go shopping. We need to restock the cupboards anyway. It'll get us one day closer to the neckpieces being done, and I think we deserve a little vacation in our vacation."
Buffy opens her mouth as if to protest as Alex looks back down to the maps, but shuts her mouth when Willow nudges her from the side. Taking a closer look at Alexis and suddenly realizing just how badly everybody, even the Slayers, have been leaning on her and how long they have been doing it... She gives Willow the slightest of nods and instead says: "Yeah, that sounds good. We'll hit the market and then chill for the night."
Alex's look of gratitude is heart-rending.
>>>>
>> Initiative Headquarters, Coms room. 4 PM.
Henry stares at the satellite connection equipment with what can only be called a look of dread. He'll be in a conference call within the next few minutes with the President and Admiral Linmeyer.
And they weren't willing to tell him what it was about, so it's a given that he isn't going to like it.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the light flashes green. Out of habit, Ackers makes it a point to make sure he is alone in the room. Then he flicks the switch.
"Director Henry Ackers speaking."
The voice on the line isn't the President, but he does recognize it. The man is one of the President's many handlers.
"Director, can I ask you to hold for just a moment while I connect you to the President?"
Ackers takes the two seconds to make sure on the screen that the proper codes were punched in and then answers.
"That will be fine."
There is a click, followed by ten seconds of dead air, and then the President comes on the line.
"Henry. Thanks for making it, we have a lot to go over. For the record, I have Admiral Linmeyer and the Vice in here with me. He won't be participating directly, but I made him my running mate for a reason and frankly, if something does happen to me we need him to know what is going on. So he'll be sitting in on these meetings from now on."
There is some kind of half snort, half chuckle from somebody on the line at being referred to as 'The Vice' but otherwise, the conversation continues unabated.
"Henry, I have reports here that you have condemned the old high school on grounds of some kind of explosive chemical spill and are planning to level the building and throw a wall around it? With a small outpost stationed on a new structure that you are building out on what was the football field. Is that right?"
Ackers puts down his cup of coffee. "Yes, Mr. President. That is correct."
There is a moment's pause on the line. Then the president comes back on. "And why exactly is that the plan again? I read your report, but I got lost in the explanation. Something about a planer convergence or something?"
Ackers drums his fingers on the desk twice trying to figure out how to say this. "Mr. President, the school itself sits over what our expert has called 'A place where the walls between dimensions are thin.' It's the Hellmouth, Sir. It's the reason the mayor's ascension had to happen there. It's the reason that demons have tried to open us up to hell dimensions and wipe us off the earth at least twice in the last three years on that spot. The plan is an orderly removal of the structure and then a six-foot-deep reinforced concrete slab that covers the spot for at least a hundred feet in all directions with plenty of surveillance on it, then a significant wall around that. Something in the ten to fifteen-foot range with a footpath on top. We plan to call it a monument to the people that died in the chemical spill and the riot that followed it. The citizenry might think it's stupid, but I have faith they'll buy it."
Linmeyer's voice comes over the line. "So that's it then? You are going to plug the hole? Solve the problem?"
Ackers laughs. "Sorry. No, that would be nice, but no. We can make it difficult for demons to get to it, and easier for us to deal with if they do. But in the end, we can't actually close the Hellmouth. It will still give off the energies that draw demons here. I am given to understand that these Hellmouths are a lot like a volcano, Admiral. You can learn about them, you can take precautions against getting caught out by one. But in the end, they erupt where they want, when they want, for as long as they want and all we can really do is try to mitigate the damage."
The Admiral breaks in at this point. "I agree, Ackers. I've read every scrap of paper that you or that Giles fellow was willing to give me." Then there is a pause for a few seconds. Long enough to get Henry worried. He is about to say something when Linmeyer continues.
"Henry, I realize I maybe didn't make the best impression with you people. I suppose I earned that and I apologize. But at the end of the day, I didn't earn my rank by being a fool. Once I had the information, I broke it down into symptoms that a normal, run-of-the-mill, Naval intelligence unit could use and I turned 'em loose on it."
There is another pause, and Ackers could swear that he hears something mumbled on the other end but can't make it out.
"What they brought back to me was pretty horrifying. I had them run the records back more than ninety years. Until the turn of the century. In that time we've lost at least four thousand five hundred seamen under circumstances that given this knowledge are strange enough to warrant a closer look. And Henry? The Navy came in third. Both the Army and the Marines have been hit far, far worse by this phenomenon. The only branch of the big four that is relatively untouched is the Air Force."
There is silence for a few seconds as Linmeyer lets that information wash over them.
"I'm not asking to take over your operation. Hell, I don't think I want it. But we need people trained up enough to at least be able to find trouble spots and get our people clear of them when they appear. If we can deal with the issue, great. But we need to at least be able to know."
Henry is about to speak when the President comes back on the line.
"Henry, I know that you feel you have a responsibility to protect your contractors. But ask them, at least, if they'd be willing to pass along the cliffs notes version for the specialists we are trying to put together. And Henry, if they won't do it, that's fine. This is the United States. Not some dictatorial third-world pit. But that being said, You've already signed on the dotted line. So if you can't talk them into it, then training the people Linmeyer sends will be your job. So think about that while he makes his pitch."
Linmeyer sounds almost apologetic when he comes back on the line. "I'd like to put your mind at ease, to start with. I am not expecting you to take my men on patrol with you. My men are members of the United States Navy in good standing, and I won't drum them out of the service even temporarily so they can go die on your Hellmouth. What I am asking for is the kind of training that can be done at a desk. Maybe an armory and firing range. The people I am going to be sending you already know how to fight, and from what I understand of the enemy getting better at beating on things with their fists is going to be of limited use here anyway. But I need people that have the knowledge. My hope was that I could give you two weeks to hash out a beginners course and then I could send you ten men that would live, eat, and work in whatever non-combat capacity you need while they are learning what they need to know. I'm hoping that the basic training for this kind of thing can be condensed down to four to six weeks at the outside. I'd like to be able to cycle through the fifty men I have my eye on before the new year if I can."
The president comes back on again.
"And Henry? Please remember that while I have no intention of assigning military personnel to you on a permanent basis, if we have fifty fighting men that know what's going on and another situation like this ascension crops up, then we'll potentially have fifty more highly trained men we can drop on it."
Ackers sighs. He still thinks this is all going to end in the biggest, saltiest tears ever. But his time to stall, complain, and deflect is over. He's been given orders now, and so there's only really one thing to say.
"Yes Sir. I'll get back to you as soon as I've worked out a basic training program."
and really, the only guys he has that can put up said basic training program is of... questionable legal mind when it comes to how you should do it.
and whatever lore Gilles can be convinced to share.
and whatever lore Gilles can be convinced to share.
A Deep Hatred.
Chapter 87
A Deep Hatred.
>>>>
>> The Truck, July 12th, 2 PM
Alexis passes around the new chokers to the rest of the Truck's occupants after she has rolled up the portable hole and made room for them in the back shower bay. It's been a somewhat lame few days. For two days they did almost nothing. Sat around the truck, relaxing. Alex took a little time with her Wrights to build a system of anchor-able folding cot bunk beds, three high on either side, that can be brought out of storage and deployed if needed in the back bay in the event they ever needed to use the Truck as a living space for people that couldn't shrink. Having a day to tinker around with a project that wasn't going to kill anyone if it failed or wasn't done in time was pretty cathartic for her.
Then the next two days were mostly annoying. Not only did they find that their maps were even worse than they thought, not quite useless but edging up on it, but that Margo the irritating reporter has most definitely not given up on her interview. As evidenced by the note they find stuck on the back door with a refrigerator magnet. It asks when would be a good time for a follow-up interview and includes her business card.
When exactly it was left there they have no idea, which means that she didn't bother to knock for whatever reason.
But as Alex hands out the chokers, she can feel her gut tying itself into knots again. Really, was a vacation too much to ask for?
"Okay peeps, here's the deal. The actual magical part of this is the metal buckle bit on the front with the symbol on it. The rest of it can be swapped out if you don't like the way it's presented, but I thought chokers would be best. Keep it tight against your skin, harder for something to grab on to. Also, I can pretty easily embroider something on the band if you like, to personalize it a little. Just let me know what you want."
Willow is the first to get hers on. "So how does it work?"
Alexis shrugs. "Mental command. But you likely won't notice it's working unless there's a reason you needed it. Once we all have them on we'll make some bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches, and you can all practice flipping them on and off while the bacon is frying. If you can smell it, it's off."
>>>>
An hour later as they enjoy their late lunch the consensus is that Alex was right the other day. Having these on while you're eating makes food pretty bland, so they all have them shut off while they eat. Buffy sets her sandwich down when she is about halfway done with it, takes a sip of water, and turns to Alex.
"So what do you have them working on now?"
Alex sets her own sandwich down and leans back. Holding a finger up to stall while she finishes the current bite, she takes a sip of her own water to wash it down. "A few things, actually. A replacement Iron Defender and another Dedicated Wright are the two big ones though. I leveled on that Mayor fiasco and when I tested, all six Wrights were able to build magic items now. So I need another one so I can know where my limits are again. Honestly, it seems like the limit is half my level of projects in progress at any time." She offers a shrug. "Still, it's better to know for sure. She picks up her sandwich but doesn't take a bite yet. "Other than that, my plan is to get a collection of Schema put together so I have something to fall back on a little higher level than these wands."
Kendra looks up from her sandwich. "What's a Schema?"
Willow giggles. "A reusable scroll, pretty much. Once a day, I think?"
Alex nods. "Yeah. I'm having the Wrights carve the runes into metal strips about as thick as a house key and one by five inches. The plan is to put them on rings to keep them handy."
Buffy speaks up again, having wolfed down the rest of her sandwich. "So, we are going to go on a serious patrol tonight, right? How do we want to do this?"
Alex shakes her head slightly and glares at the map on the table.
"Carefully."
>>>>
>> The Underground. 10:35 PM
Buffy and Kendra have now been skulking around old tunnels, storm drains, sewers, forgotten basements, and such for over an hour and a half. With the Furtive Filcher, 10-76 sneaking along ahead of them, and Howlback, the remaining Iron Defender, bringing up the rear. Buffy takes a moment to turn off the microphone as they walk along the dank, musty tunnels while breathing fresh, crisp, clean air.
"Hey, what do you think of Riley?"
Kendra smirks as she looks into a side tunnel that leads to a partially collapsed old basement. She's managed to reduce it to a soft smile before she flips off her own mic and then turns back around.
"He seems like a nice enough guy. Prideful though, given how he treats Daryl. It could eventually be a problem for one such as we, were there to be a romance. I would suspect, anyway. Why do you ask?"
Buffy scuffs her foot once as she walks, obviously in irritation. She doesn't seem to like Kendra's response.
"Well, you said Scott Hope was a bad choice for a long-term relationship because he'd never deal well with the nightlife. And I hate it, but I think you were right. So, after prom I've been thinking about other options and Riley seems like he might be a good one. He knows what's going on, signed up for it even. Volunteered. Heck, in some ways he's more of a hero than I am. He's at least doing this by choice. If I wasn't the..." She grins. "I mean, 'A' Slayer, I wouldn't be crawling around nasty tunnels dealing with this crap."
Kendra shrugs. "Even were all that true, that does not make him a good choice for a lifelong mate." She turns back down the tunnel and continues walking. "But really, I couldn't say one way or another. I can only give you opinions, for I have few facts. The facts are that he is a nice, brave, intelligent man. He is also prideful, beholden to his own chain of command, and honestly involved in a fight that is likely to be over his head at some point. My opinion that these facts might make it difficult to have a relationship with him is based on my own experience with relationships. Which, really Buffy. You should know better than to come to me with this. My experience is negligible."
Buffy frowns at her friend. "If you don't think your advice is worth anything, why offer it?"
Kendra shrugs. "Because you asked. For what it is worth, Buffy, I would not date him. I would not date any of the Initiative soldiers for pretty much the same reasons."
Buffy stops. Stares at Kendra for a moment. "And why's that, exactly? I mean, Miller is the exact opposite of prideful."
Kendra turns around and she considers for a few seconds how to answer the question.
"Because I was once a person who had dedicated my life to following the will of another. To be the tool of this person, until death claimed me. I know that at that point in my life I would have been a horrible, unreliable mate to anyone I tried to bond with. The relationship would likely have failed spectacularly, and it would have been myself that caused it. I see in them a lot of the same rigid doctrine that I once lived under. The same dedication to someone else's purpose. And because I have been in their shoes, I can imagine what being with them would be like." She narrows her eyes at Buffy. Not in anger or suspicion. But in a form of resolve that causes Buffy to swallow once in seeing it.
"I can imagine it, and I am worth more than to be someone's second or third priority. As I would give myself to them, they would be required to give themselves to me. And no disrespect to the nice guys and champions against the dark that they truly are, but none of them are in a position to do so. I will wait until I find someone that will."
Then she shrugs. "But my needs may not be yours, and I do not wish to take away your chance of happiness if such a thing would make you so. I can only tell you what I think. My opinion."
With that, Kendra turns back around and continues their patrol. A rather confused Buffy padding along behind her, deep in her thoughts.
Nearly an hour later, both the girls are suddenly startled as a voice comes over their earpieces.
"Q here. Slayer, Smalls, do me a favor and cover your lights for a minute. I am sending 10-76 ahead a bit. There's something up there."
>>>>
>> In the Truck.
Willow glances up from her laptop, looking at where Alex has a finger placed on the map. "Is that where they are?"
Alexis nods, her eyes closed. "I think so. I have 10-76 scouting ahead a little. He heard something up there. Sounded like voices."
Willow punches in the cross streets. "Red here. You're under the Smith Tower. It's from after the fire, but not by a lot. Opened for business in 1914. I'd need to spend some time digging to find much more, but just so you know, the foundation for this thing will be deep. The tower is pretty big. My guess is that you are actually up against the side of it rather than directly under it."
Alexis, peering through the eyes of her stealthy little friend, starts to speak.
"Q here. Okay, ladies. Up ahead a bit there's an alcove, a little side tunnel against the wall. In that alcove, I can see a pair of people that have a hanging light bulb over them with an electrical socket hanging off the same wire. They are armed, I can see pistols and it looks like one of them has something bigger, but it's laying behind some stuff on the table that's between them and I can't make it out. Not sure what these two are doing aside from playing cards and looking bored, but there's a door behind them. Looks heavy. Steel, with a view slit in it."
Buffy whispers back. "Slayer here. So, suggestions?"
"Q here. Well, theoretically your bulletproofing should be good against the pistols unless you let them plug you for a while. My worry is the other gun. It's too big to be a pistol, but like I said I can't make it out. If you take them down fast enough it shouldn't matter unless it's a monster of a gun, whatever it is. But the problem is that I don't know. In the end, it's your guys' call. I can send in Howlback first if you like, but honestly, he doesn't have your bulletproofing. He would probably get pretty screwed up. I'm willing though if you think you need me too. He's repairable unless they get pretty damn lucky."
There is a moment of murmured whispers between the two slayers, then Kendra speaks.
"Smalls here. Q, we are going to move up slowly until we can see the light you are talking about. Let us know if they move."
A minute later, the two Slayers have come to a corner and sure enough, poking their heads around it they can see the little alcove with light pouring out of it. With their night vision and that light source, the tunnel here snaps into focus easily, and the alcove is about forty feet away. Buffy's whisper is barely audible on the earpiece.
"Slayer here. We see the spot. We're gonna get as close as we can before we charge. Let us know if they do anything, and when we do rush them, send in Howlback to back us up."
At that, the two slayers begin the process of slowly, painstakingly, creeping down the hall. Buffy at two and a half feet tall and Kendra at around eight inches. Making it a point to move when the men are talking, they make it without incident to the edge of the opening.
Then they both pop up a size level and come around the corner like avenging angels. The two men are caught completely off guard, and while neither will be bragging about getting their tails kicked by women, the one that got choked out by what was at the time a midget will forevermore look back on this day as the time that his street cred was permanently hashed to pieces. All told, there were three shots fired, and none of them penetrated. But as the fight is ending, and the second goon is losing his fight against unconsciousness, the viewport in the door quickly slides open and then slams shut again. There is the sound of another door being slammed, and then somewhere beyond the wall is a loud ratcheting of metal on metal for a few seconds.
"Slayer here. We're fine, but we might be screwed getting through this door."
Kendra walks over and checks the handle. "Smalls here. There's no lock, it must be barred on the other..."
She stops talking when the act of pushing down the lever and pulling causes the door to open.
"Okay. I did not expect that to work."
Alexis panics. "Stop! Don't go in. Let me check it out with 10-76 a little. It won't be nearly as effective as if I were there myself, but at least if something horrible happens it won't be to you two. This whole scenario is making my butt seriously pucker. Do me a favor and hold the door open for me."
Slowly, painstakingly, she has her little prowler go over the contents of the room on the other side. It isn't a large room. There are three doors aside from the one she came through. One on either side of the eight-foot by twelve-foot space, and one on the end. The one on the end looks much like the one they just came through. The ones on the side are odd. The doors open into the room and look quite robust. There is no give in them at all. After checking out the entire room, the little homunculus comes back out.
"Q here. Okay, I don't know for sure what's going on. I would need to be there to check it myself I think. But there are a couple of things that you should know. First, the door that Buffy is holding open can be remotely engaged somehow. You can see the holes in the door that line up with deadbolts in the frame. The fact that they left it unlocked makes me think that it isn't for keeping people out, it's for a trap. Also, the doors on the side have some pretty decent soundproofing on them. I thought I heard something scratching at one of the doors, but it was really faint. Lastly, there's a peephole in the wall on the far side. It's hidden in the rough-cut stone, but it's there. Nothing in nature is that round, and the fact that it is at head height gives the game away. Like I said, I don't know for sure. But my guess is that there is some pull on that door to make it close on you, and there is some asshole peeping through the hole. Once you're in here with the door shut, he engages the lock and either gasses you or lets out something in those other rooms. That's what I got. What you do with it is up to you."
The two slayers converse for a few seconds, and then Kendra takes the time to strip the two men and tie them up using their own clothes. Once that is done, she holds the door open while Buffy spikes it to stay that way. Hammering a hardened metal spike into concrete isn't exactly subtle, but for a Slayer, it's pretty doable. Then the two enter the room with swords drawn.
Just as expected, the side doors make a clicking sound and then fly open with extreme force. What is inside either of them immediately charges out to attack.
They are men. Well, in the sense that they have two arms and two legs, and walk upright. They seem to have the correct number of fingers and toes. But that is where the similarities end. These black and dark green monstrosities have webbed hands and feet. They are covered in slimy scales, and their fingers are tipped with dangerous, curved claws. But most telling to Buffy and Kendra is the mouth full of sharply pointed, slightly serrated, backward curving teeth. The chains that the two fish monsters have hanging from the collars at their necks rattle disturbingly as they attack.
Buffy spins and takes the one on her side on the arm, cutting it cleanly away and causing the creature to scream in some kind of gurgling voice that speaks of pain and hate.
Kendra, unfortunately, was standing too close to her door when it got flung open and is thrown against the wall, with her fish-man dashing past to attack Buffy from behind. Moving in, Howlback is able to trip the creature up with a nip to the back of what passes for the thing's ankle and in the time it takes the creature to recover, Kendra has launched herself across the room swords first, attaching herself to the back of it like a bloodthirsty Sticklebrick. In moments the fight is over, and the two women are staring at the remains in shock.
"What the hell are these things?!" Is the comment from Buffy, having forgotten radio protocols in her panic.
"Q here. No idea. Take a picture while I have 10-76 check the rooms they were in."
The camera flash goes off a dozen times while Q checks the room. Her heart sinks as she does.
"Umm. Q here. Well, I think I know what happened to the cops that they couldn't find. They're either fish food or were-fish or something. There's some clothes in here. Really damn nasty. Can't even tell what they are. But I found a badge in here too. And a water trough under an open pipe. The chain around their neck goes into a hole in the wall."
Kendra looks in the room and sees the bones scattered around, the blood smears, and the large water trough that is overflowing as water from the pipe trickles into it and then into a drain in the floor. The scene makes her a little sick.
"The other one is the same thing. Cop clothes and one badge. I think we technically maybe kinda just killed two ex-cops? Possibly?"
With a growl and a pair of snaps, Buffy puts her sword away and then hammers the edge of the new door with the hook of her industrial-strength, enchanted club/crowbar. In the end, it takes nearly three minutes and both Slayers, but they manage to pry it open with a scream of twisting metal and a loud popping sound as the frame that was securing the deadbolts gives way under the strain.
The fight on the other side against a bespectacled chemist, surrounded by bags and tubs of drugs and chemicals, takes less than five seconds.
>>>>
>> Initiative Headquarters. Henry's Private Quarters. 1:30 AM
"Fish demons from fish steroids. This is real? Not a joke?"
Alex's voice comes over the line sounding both apologetic and desperate. "Henry, we need help. The only way we can deal with this is to kill all three of them and flush enough drugs down the sewer to make half the fish in Puget Sound spend a year in rehab. Plus, there's no way for us to know if this is the only setup like this, or if they have free-range fish-men around or what. We don't even know where the steroids came from. We were barely able to translate enough to get an idea of what it was. The container is in Russian. Thankfully this jackass chemist keeps an up-to-date journal of his experiments and whatnot."
Henry closes his eyes. "And the officers that were killed and went missing?"
There is a pause and a whispered conversation on the other side. He recognizes Willow's voice but isn't able to make out what they are saying.
"Sorry, Sir. Willow is going over the journal now. We don't know on all of them, but it looks like a few of the missing officers got clamped into chains and then dosed with enough of this stuff to turn them, and the rest ended up fed to them. The ones that got found all ripped up were specifically hauled to where they were found and placed as a warning to get the police to back off and throw them off the trail, have them looking in the wrong spots."
Henry nods. "I need you to collect the fish-men corpses and any drugs or substances that seem unusual to you. You'll only have to store them until tomorrow morning sometime. Gerard is sending up a couple of his old team that we've brought in. They should be able to deal with this mostly through official channels once you've cleared the area of anything particularly strange. One thing I cannot stress enough is that once you have gotten the area sorted, you are not to enter those tunnels again unless Gerard's people tell you that you can. It's going to be a zoo down there for a while."
Alex's voice comes over the phone a little shaky. "What if they run into more fish men?"
Henry offers as calm a tone as he can. "Then we'll call you. But you four are far too important to this effort for some idiot to keep you locked up awaiting trial for the next six months for cop-killing, even if proving it would be impossible. I was planning on making you temporary Marshals and having Gerard's duo shadow you for the rest of your vacation as a safety net, but that might not cut it if the locals get wind of this and decide to tag you with killing local law enforcement. Since we can sidestep that bullet completely, that's what we're going to do. Tomorrow, in the AM. They'll be arriving at your truck by way of a rental van. They go by Poole and Cosmo. I'll be able to give better advice once they have sent me their reports."
He laughs. "No disrespect, but your reports tend to leave out a lot of things those of us in law enforcement consider important."
Alex pulls the phone away and stares at it for a second. "So, bag the bodies, keep the perps tied up and leave them on the site, collect anything that looks ooky, and let your people handle the rest?"
"Exactly."
Alex smiles for the first time in three hours. "Alright then. Yeah. We can do that."
>>>>
>> Author's Note.
I didn't forget the gill-man episode. Honest. I just couldn't justify wasting magic mutagenic fish steroids on something as lame as an overachieving swim team coach.
I just couldn't. So, the batch that he would have gotten a few years later instead disappeared off a dock here in Seattle during a heist of other drugs by some bad people.
As an aside, folks: Kendra's opinions on dating soldiers do not represent my own. I thought for a while about what her response would be to Buffy when she brought it up, and given her background, this is what I came up with. I'm not anti-military or anti-soldier. Truthfully, she isn't either. In my view though, she wouldn't date somebody that could be ordered away from her for an extended period and would have to or even be willing to obey that order, given her background.
A Deep Hatred.
>>>>
>> The Truck, July 12th, 2 PM
Alexis passes around the new chokers to the rest of the Truck's occupants after she has rolled up the portable hole and made room for them in the back shower bay. It's been a somewhat lame few days. For two days they did almost nothing. Sat around the truck, relaxing. Alex took a little time with her Wrights to build a system of anchor-able folding cot bunk beds, three high on either side, that can be brought out of storage and deployed if needed in the back bay in the event they ever needed to use the Truck as a living space for people that couldn't shrink. Having a day to tinker around with a project that wasn't going to kill anyone if it failed or wasn't done in time was pretty cathartic for her.
Then the next two days were mostly annoying. Not only did they find that their maps were even worse than they thought, not quite useless but edging up on it, but that Margo the irritating reporter has most definitely not given up on her interview. As evidenced by the note they find stuck on the back door with a refrigerator magnet. It asks when would be a good time for a follow-up interview and includes her business card.
When exactly it was left there they have no idea, which means that she didn't bother to knock for whatever reason.
But as Alex hands out the chokers, she can feel her gut tying itself into knots again. Really, was a vacation too much to ask for?
"Okay peeps, here's the deal. The actual magical part of this is the metal buckle bit on the front with the symbol on it. The rest of it can be swapped out if you don't like the way it's presented, but I thought chokers would be best. Keep it tight against your skin, harder for something to grab on to. Also, I can pretty easily embroider something on the band if you like, to personalize it a little. Just let me know what you want."
Willow is the first to get hers on. "So how does it work?"
Alexis shrugs. "Mental command. But you likely won't notice it's working unless there's a reason you needed it. Once we all have them on we'll make some bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches, and you can all practice flipping them on and off while the bacon is frying. If you can smell it, it's off."
>>>>
An hour later as they enjoy their late lunch the consensus is that Alex was right the other day. Having these on while you're eating makes food pretty bland, so they all have them shut off while they eat. Buffy sets her sandwich down when she is about halfway done with it, takes a sip of water, and turns to Alex.
"So what do you have them working on now?"
Alex sets her own sandwich down and leans back. Holding a finger up to stall while she finishes the current bite, she takes a sip of her own water to wash it down. "A few things, actually. A replacement Iron Defender and another Dedicated Wright are the two big ones though. I leveled on that Mayor fiasco and when I tested, all six Wrights were able to build magic items now. So I need another one so I can know where my limits are again. Honestly, it seems like the limit is half my level of projects in progress at any time." She offers a shrug. "Still, it's better to know for sure. She picks up her sandwich but doesn't take a bite yet. "Other than that, my plan is to get a collection of Schema put together so I have something to fall back on a little higher level than these wands."
Kendra looks up from her sandwich. "What's a Schema?"
Willow giggles. "A reusable scroll, pretty much. Once a day, I think?"
Alex nods. "Yeah. I'm having the Wrights carve the runes into metal strips about as thick as a house key and one by five inches. The plan is to put them on rings to keep them handy."
Buffy speaks up again, having wolfed down the rest of her sandwich. "So, we are going to go on a serious patrol tonight, right? How do we want to do this?"
Alex shakes her head slightly and glares at the map on the table.
"Carefully."
>>>>
>> The Underground. 10:35 PM
Buffy and Kendra have now been skulking around old tunnels, storm drains, sewers, forgotten basements, and such for over an hour and a half. With the Furtive Filcher, 10-76 sneaking along ahead of them, and Howlback, the remaining Iron Defender, bringing up the rear. Buffy takes a moment to turn off the microphone as they walk along the dank, musty tunnels while breathing fresh, crisp, clean air.
"Hey, what do you think of Riley?"
Kendra smirks as she looks into a side tunnel that leads to a partially collapsed old basement. She's managed to reduce it to a soft smile before she flips off her own mic and then turns back around.
"He seems like a nice enough guy. Prideful though, given how he treats Daryl. It could eventually be a problem for one such as we, were there to be a romance. I would suspect, anyway. Why do you ask?"
Buffy scuffs her foot once as she walks, obviously in irritation. She doesn't seem to like Kendra's response.
"Well, you said Scott Hope was a bad choice for a long-term relationship because he'd never deal well with the nightlife. And I hate it, but I think you were right. So, after prom I've been thinking about other options and Riley seems like he might be a good one. He knows what's going on, signed up for it even. Volunteered. Heck, in some ways he's more of a hero than I am. He's at least doing this by choice. If I wasn't the..." She grins. "I mean, 'A' Slayer, I wouldn't be crawling around nasty tunnels dealing with this crap."
Kendra shrugs. "Even were all that true, that does not make him a good choice for a lifelong mate." She turns back down the tunnel and continues walking. "But really, I couldn't say one way or another. I can only give you opinions, for I have few facts. The facts are that he is a nice, brave, intelligent man. He is also prideful, beholden to his own chain of command, and honestly involved in a fight that is likely to be over his head at some point. My opinion that these facts might make it difficult to have a relationship with him is based on my own experience with relationships. Which, really Buffy. You should know better than to come to me with this. My experience is negligible."
Buffy frowns at her friend. "If you don't think your advice is worth anything, why offer it?"
Kendra shrugs. "Because you asked. For what it is worth, Buffy, I would not date him. I would not date any of the Initiative soldiers for pretty much the same reasons."
Buffy stops. Stares at Kendra for a moment. "And why's that, exactly? I mean, Miller is the exact opposite of prideful."
Kendra turns around and she considers for a few seconds how to answer the question.
"Because I was once a person who had dedicated my life to following the will of another. To be the tool of this person, until death claimed me. I know that at that point in my life I would have been a horrible, unreliable mate to anyone I tried to bond with. The relationship would likely have failed spectacularly, and it would have been myself that caused it. I see in them a lot of the same rigid doctrine that I once lived under. The same dedication to someone else's purpose. And because I have been in their shoes, I can imagine what being with them would be like." She narrows her eyes at Buffy. Not in anger or suspicion. But in a form of resolve that causes Buffy to swallow once in seeing it.
"I can imagine it, and I am worth more than to be someone's second or third priority. As I would give myself to them, they would be required to give themselves to me. And no disrespect to the nice guys and champions against the dark that they truly are, but none of them are in a position to do so. I will wait until I find someone that will."
Then she shrugs. "But my needs may not be yours, and I do not wish to take away your chance of happiness if such a thing would make you so. I can only tell you what I think. My opinion."
With that, Kendra turns back around and continues their patrol. A rather confused Buffy padding along behind her, deep in her thoughts.
Nearly an hour later, both the girls are suddenly startled as a voice comes over their earpieces.
"Q here. Slayer, Smalls, do me a favor and cover your lights for a minute. I am sending 10-76 ahead a bit. There's something up there."
>>>>
>> In the Truck.
Willow glances up from her laptop, looking at where Alex has a finger placed on the map. "Is that where they are?"
Alexis nods, her eyes closed. "I think so. I have 10-76 scouting ahead a little. He heard something up there. Sounded like voices."
Willow punches in the cross streets. "Red here. You're under the Smith Tower. It's from after the fire, but not by a lot. Opened for business in 1914. I'd need to spend some time digging to find much more, but just so you know, the foundation for this thing will be deep. The tower is pretty big. My guess is that you are actually up against the side of it rather than directly under it."
Alexis, peering through the eyes of her stealthy little friend, starts to speak.
"Q here. Okay, ladies. Up ahead a bit there's an alcove, a little side tunnel against the wall. In that alcove, I can see a pair of people that have a hanging light bulb over them with an electrical socket hanging off the same wire. They are armed, I can see pistols and it looks like one of them has something bigger, but it's laying behind some stuff on the table that's between them and I can't make it out. Not sure what these two are doing aside from playing cards and looking bored, but there's a door behind them. Looks heavy. Steel, with a view slit in it."
Buffy whispers back. "Slayer here. So, suggestions?"
"Q here. Well, theoretically your bulletproofing should be good against the pistols unless you let them plug you for a while. My worry is the other gun. It's too big to be a pistol, but like I said I can't make it out. If you take them down fast enough it shouldn't matter unless it's a monster of a gun, whatever it is. But the problem is that I don't know. In the end, it's your guys' call. I can send in Howlback first if you like, but honestly, he doesn't have your bulletproofing. He would probably get pretty screwed up. I'm willing though if you think you need me too. He's repairable unless they get pretty damn lucky."
There is a moment of murmured whispers between the two slayers, then Kendra speaks.
"Smalls here. Q, we are going to move up slowly until we can see the light you are talking about. Let us know if they move."
A minute later, the two Slayers have come to a corner and sure enough, poking their heads around it they can see the little alcove with light pouring out of it. With their night vision and that light source, the tunnel here snaps into focus easily, and the alcove is about forty feet away. Buffy's whisper is barely audible on the earpiece.
"Slayer here. We see the spot. We're gonna get as close as we can before we charge. Let us know if they do anything, and when we do rush them, send in Howlback to back us up."
At that, the two slayers begin the process of slowly, painstakingly, creeping down the hall. Buffy at two and a half feet tall and Kendra at around eight inches. Making it a point to move when the men are talking, they make it without incident to the edge of the opening.
Then they both pop up a size level and come around the corner like avenging angels. The two men are caught completely off guard, and while neither will be bragging about getting their tails kicked by women, the one that got choked out by what was at the time a midget will forevermore look back on this day as the time that his street cred was permanently hashed to pieces. All told, there were three shots fired, and none of them penetrated. But as the fight is ending, and the second goon is losing his fight against unconsciousness, the viewport in the door quickly slides open and then slams shut again. There is the sound of another door being slammed, and then somewhere beyond the wall is a loud ratcheting of metal on metal for a few seconds.
"Slayer here. We're fine, but we might be screwed getting through this door."
Kendra walks over and checks the handle. "Smalls here. There's no lock, it must be barred on the other..."
She stops talking when the act of pushing down the lever and pulling causes the door to open.
"Okay. I did not expect that to work."
Alexis panics. "Stop! Don't go in. Let me check it out with 10-76 a little. It won't be nearly as effective as if I were there myself, but at least if something horrible happens it won't be to you two. This whole scenario is making my butt seriously pucker. Do me a favor and hold the door open for me."
Slowly, painstakingly, she has her little prowler go over the contents of the room on the other side. It isn't a large room. There are three doors aside from the one she came through. One on either side of the eight-foot by twelve-foot space, and one on the end. The one on the end looks much like the one they just came through. The ones on the side are odd. The doors open into the room and look quite robust. There is no give in them at all. After checking out the entire room, the little homunculus comes back out.
"Q here. Okay, I don't know for sure what's going on. I would need to be there to check it myself I think. But there are a couple of things that you should know. First, the door that Buffy is holding open can be remotely engaged somehow. You can see the holes in the door that line up with deadbolts in the frame. The fact that they left it unlocked makes me think that it isn't for keeping people out, it's for a trap. Also, the doors on the side have some pretty decent soundproofing on them. I thought I heard something scratching at one of the doors, but it was really faint. Lastly, there's a peephole in the wall on the far side. It's hidden in the rough-cut stone, but it's there. Nothing in nature is that round, and the fact that it is at head height gives the game away. Like I said, I don't know for sure. But my guess is that there is some pull on that door to make it close on you, and there is some asshole peeping through the hole. Once you're in here with the door shut, he engages the lock and either gasses you or lets out something in those other rooms. That's what I got. What you do with it is up to you."
The two slayers converse for a few seconds, and then Kendra takes the time to strip the two men and tie them up using their own clothes. Once that is done, she holds the door open while Buffy spikes it to stay that way. Hammering a hardened metal spike into concrete isn't exactly subtle, but for a Slayer, it's pretty doable. Then the two enter the room with swords drawn.
Just as expected, the side doors make a clicking sound and then fly open with extreme force. What is inside either of them immediately charges out to attack.
They are men. Well, in the sense that they have two arms and two legs, and walk upright. They seem to have the correct number of fingers and toes. But that is where the similarities end. These black and dark green monstrosities have webbed hands and feet. They are covered in slimy scales, and their fingers are tipped with dangerous, curved claws. But most telling to Buffy and Kendra is the mouth full of sharply pointed, slightly serrated, backward curving teeth. The chains that the two fish monsters have hanging from the collars at their necks rattle disturbingly as they attack.
Buffy spins and takes the one on her side on the arm, cutting it cleanly away and causing the creature to scream in some kind of gurgling voice that speaks of pain and hate.
Kendra, unfortunately, was standing too close to her door when it got flung open and is thrown against the wall, with her fish-man dashing past to attack Buffy from behind. Moving in, Howlback is able to trip the creature up with a nip to the back of what passes for the thing's ankle and in the time it takes the creature to recover, Kendra has launched herself across the room swords first, attaching herself to the back of it like a bloodthirsty Sticklebrick. In moments the fight is over, and the two women are staring at the remains in shock.
"What the hell are these things?!" Is the comment from Buffy, having forgotten radio protocols in her panic.
"Q here. No idea. Take a picture while I have 10-76 check the rooms they were in."
The camera flash goes off a dozen times while Q checks the room. Her heart sinks as she does.
"Umm. Q here. Well, I think I know what happened to the cops that they couldn't find. They're either fish food or were-fish or something. There's some clothes in here. Really damn nasty. Can't even tell what they are. But I found a badge in here too. And a water trough under an open pipe. The chain around their neck goes into a hole in the wall."
Kendra looks in the room and sees the bones scattered around, the blood smears, and the large water trough that is overflowing as water from the pipe trickles into it and then into a drain in the floor. The scene makes her a little sick.
"The other one is the same thing. Cop clothes and one badge. I think we technically maybe kinda just killed two ex-cops? Possibly?"
With a growl and a pair of snaps, Buffy puts her sword away and then hammers the edge of the new door with the hook of her industrial-strength, enchanted club/crowbar. In the end, it takes nearly three minutes and both Slayers, but they manage to pry it open with a scream of twisting metal and a loud popping sound as the frame that was securing the deadbolts gives way under the strain.
The fight on the other side against a bespectacled chemist, surrounded by bags and tubs of drugs and chemicals, takes less than five seconds.
>>>>
>> Initiative Headquarters. Henry's Private Quarters. 1:30 AM
"Fish demons from fish steroids. This is real? Not a joke?"
Alex's voice comes over the line sounding both apologetic and desperate. "Henry, we need help. The only way we can deal with this is to kill all three of them and flush enough drugs down the sewer to make half the fish in Puget Sound spend a year in rehab. Plus, there's no way for us to know if this is the only setup like this, or if they have free-range fish-men around or what. We don't even know where the steroids came from. We were barely able to translate enough to get an idea of what it was. The container is in Russian. Thankfully this jackass chemist keeps an up-to-date journal of his experiments and whatnot."
Henry closes his eyes. "And the officers that were killed and went missing?"
There is a pause and a whispered conversation on the other side. He recognizes Willow's voice but isn't able to make out what they are saying.
"Sorry, Sir. Willow is going over the journal now. We don't know on all of them, but it looks like a few of the missing officers got clamped into chains and then dosed with enough of this stuff to turn them, and the rest ended up fed to them. The ones that got found all ripped up were specifically hauled to where they were found and placed as a warning to get the police to back off and throw them off the trail, have them looking in the wrong spots."
Henry nods. "I need you to collect the fish-men corpses and any drugs or substances that seem unusual to you. You'll only have to store them until tomorrow morning sometime. Gerard is sending up a couple of his old team that we've brought in. They should be able to deal with this mostly through official channels once you've cleared the area of anything particularly strange. One thing I cannot stress enough is that once you have gotten the area sorted, you are not to enter those tunnels again unless Gerard's people tell you that you can. It's going to be a zoo down there for a while."
Alex's voice comes over the phone a little shaky. "What if they run into more fish men?"
Henry offers as calm a tone as he can. "Then we'll call you. But you four are far too important to this effort for some idiot to keep you locked up awaiting trial for the next six months for cop-killing, even if proving it would be impossible. I was planning on making you temporary Marshals and having Gerard's duo shadow you for the rest of your vacation as a safety net, but that might not cut it if the locals get wind of this and decide to tag you with killing local law enforcement. Since we can sidestep that bullet completely, that's what we're going to do. Tomorrow, in the AM. They'll be arriving at your truck by way of a rental van. They go by Poole and Cosmo. I'll be able to give better advice once they have sent me their reports."
He laughs. "No disrespect, but your reports tend to leave out a lot of things those of us in law enforcement consider important."
Alex pulls the phone away and stares at it for a second. "So, bag the bodies, keep the perps tied up and leave them on the site, collect anything that looks ooky, and let your people handle the rest?"
"Exactly."
Alex smiles for the first time in three hours. "Alright then. Yeah. We can do that."
>>>>
>> Author's Note.
I didn't forget the gill-man episode. Honest. I just couldn't justify wasting magic mutagenic fish steroids on something as lame as an overachieving swim team coach.
I just couldn't. So, the batch that he would have gotten a few years later instead disappeared off a dock here in Seattle during a heist of other drugs by some bad people.
As an aside, folks: Kendra's opinions on dating soldiers do not represent my own. I thought for a while about what her response would be to Buffy when she brought it up, and given her background, this is what I came up with. I'm not anti-military or anti-soldier. Truthfully, she isn't either. In my view though, she wouldn't date somebody that could be ordered away from her for an extended period and would have to or even be willing to obey that order, given her background.
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Fears.
Chapter 88
Fears.
>>>>
Buffy wakes up late but decides that since they were stuck dealing with the meth lab until four in the morning before they had cleared everything that screamed ookiness, she was entitled. She glances at the small clock on the wall in the dim light of the tiny bulletproof window. Well, small as wall clocks go at only five inches or so across the face of it. But at her current size and in this room it is plenty big enough.
It being ten thirty, she decides that there isn't much purpose in getting too crazy. The morning is pretty much shot, and chances are they won't be doing anything until after lunch. Standing, she once again glances around the tiny living quarters. The ceilings being three and a half feet tall and the room only being three feet by four feet, you'd think it would be stiflingly small. But at her current size, it really isn't too bad. All it contains is a bed, a small cupboard with a lock on it, and two doors. One leads to a tiny little bathroom with a metal homemade sink and toilette combo, where the sink is somehow sitting on the back of the toilette and drains into the tank for flushing. Relieving herself takes a moment, and then the handwashing a moment more.
She's still in her sleep clothes. Unfortunately, after a few hours of experiments at the start of the trip, they had to admit that Alexis was right. There really is no comfortable way to be a normal size human in these rooms and get dressed in your regular-sized clothes. So the locker/shower room in the back is required.
Well, for everybody but Kendra anyway. The first thing she did is move her clothing into the lockbox in her bedroom and buy a tiny rubber stopper for the sink so she could use it as a small bathtub when she's eight inches tall. If you had asked Buffy three weeks ago if she would ever envy somebody half her size, she'd have told you that you had lost your mind. But it is what it is. Exiting the room brings her into a short hallway with a steep and narrow staircase on one end and the four doors to enter the rooms in the middle. The other end of the hall which stretches the width of the truck is the usual storage place for Howlback. There is actually room enough for two cassette-styled Iron defenders to cozy up to each other on the far side and set themselves into a little half-height box so if they hit rough roads they won't get jostled around too much.
She slowly goes down the stairs and enters the living area as she hears the conversation and doesn't want to intrude, rather just ease herself into the room. At the bottom she can see that aside from Kendra the rest of the truck's occupants are in the same shape she is in the sense of still wearing pajamas, and while they appear to be done eating the cereal bowls they used are still decorating the coffee table. The three of them are watching television, some kind of morning edition news broadcast that is making wild speculation on what happened in the underground last night with the volume turned way down as they discuss the scrolling information that constantly marches across the bottom of the screen. Buffy groans and everybody else looks over at her.
Willow smiles at her irritated face. "It's no problem. None of it should affect us."
Buffy jerks a thumb back to the shower area, which they packed full of illicit chemicals and a pair of dead fish-men that used to be police officers. "Are you sure? Because it doesn't seem like it would be a good idea to open the back door. Ever."
Alexis shrugs with a slight smirk on her face. "Already handled. Gerard's people showed up about eight this morning with a van and took possession. The guy said they were going to ship the whole thing to Henry via F.B.I. Express. I've already cleaned it all out, we're good."
She gets a look on her face that is somewhere between annoyed and mournful. "What I need to know now is where everybody wants to go? So far I'm three for three disasters, I think somebody else gets to pick the next place."
Kendra's eyes light up. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think I know what we should do. We keep having trouble in cities, maybe we should try being out in the woods? I always wanted to see the forest when I wasn't tasked with hunting or killing something, and one of the most famous national parks in the world is only a couple of days' drive from here. It was even in a cartoon about bears."
She stops talking suddenly and looks a little bashful. "I have seen it once when I was supposed to be practicing my martial arts in the hotel room we were staying in at the time. I think I was eleven. My watcher was not pleased when he walked in."
Alex, Willow, and Buffy all look confused for a moment, and then Willow giggles. "Was the bear named Yogi?"
Kendra grins. "Yes! Though it took me some time later to find the park on a map, they used the wrong name in the cartoon. They called it Jellystone."
Alex nods. "Does anybody have a problem with a few days to a week camping at Yellowstone park? We'll show up as tiny people, throw up the hot tub, and just chill for a while. No worries about anything. We'll have air conditioning if we get hot, heaters if we get cold, running water, electricity, we can stock up on the way there. It'll be just like being home except there will be new things to do and better scenery."
Buffy feels herself die a little on the inside. "There isn't going to be any shopping there. No shoes, no anything." She brightens. "I'll tell you what, I'll spend a week in cartoon bear land if the next stop is Las Vegas. We can go shopping, take in some shows, it'll be fun!"
Alex turns to Willow. "Are you okay with that?"
Willow grins. "Sure, that sounds fun. My only request was a stop in L.A. At some point. I know it really isn't far from home, but in some ways, that's almost better. We actually know a little about it, but we've never experienced it with each other. Five-star restaurants and a chance to wander around Hollywood and point at the famous people's homes might be a little ridiculous, but it sounds like fun to me. Besides, I think it would be a hoot to see if we can find some of your art pieces that Joyce sold through the auction house that I know are now in expensive hotel lobbies and upscale restaurants. Just for giggles."
Buffy looks pleased. "Not to mention some of the best shopping ever."
Willow nods. "Well yeah, that too I suppose."
Alexis nods. "Okay then, if that's the plan, let me call our shadows and let them know what we are up to, then we can get out of here before Margo shows up again. You know she will, what with the news being crazy today. My bet is the only reason she isn't here already is she's trying to get into the underground lab at the moment."
Buffy scowls. "Our shadows? You mean Henry was serious? We are going to have some Marshals following us around?"
Willow nods as Kendra collects the cereal bowls from the coffee table and Alexis is heading towards the back to get showered. "Yuppers. When Alex talked to him last night he made noises about how we always got into trouble no matter what we did and he wanted to assign a couple of people to be there and run interference if we ran into more issues. I guess they won't be with us, really, but they'll be within ten to fifteen miles of us for the rest of the trip so if we run into trouble there's somebody around that can help with the legal and paperwork end of things." Then Willow smirks and continues. "Oh, and we put your paperwork and badge on the kitchen counter. You might want to move it to your locker upstairs and try to keep the badge on you, just in case."
Buffy giggles. "They actually gave us badges?"
Kendra nods from where she is washing the dishes. "Yes. I gather it is more of an honorary position than anything else, but we have them."
Buffy collects hers from the counter and after opening the little fold of leather finds herself laughing hysterically. Willow and Kendra walk up to her, with Willow asking: "What's so funny?"
Buffy wipes the back of her hand across her forehead as she lays the badge on the counter, open so they can see it. "Somewhere, in some little industrial shop where these things get engraved, some guy that's probably been doing this for thirty years just got a rush order from the big-cheese-reports-to-the-President director to chisel "Buffy" onto a Federal Marshal's badge. The mental image of the look on that man's face hit me all of a sudden."
After a few moments, the laughter in the room picks up again, louder than before.
>>>>
>> The Truck, July 15. 3 PM.
The drive to the park is uneventful, and after stopping for supplies on the way they find themselves slipping into a campground deep into the park. As they are comfortable being in an area that is as far from modern conveniences as it is possible to get and their truck has no problem with getting places that a more typical motor home would shy away from, they end up mostly alone. There are only a few camper vans even in sight from where they are and while it isn't visible from the ground, from the roof of the truck the view of Yellowstone lake is gorgeous.
It takes Alexis and Kendra only a few minutes to set up the hot tub on the roof, the metal frame coming together easily and the waterproof liner slipping into it without trouble. Strapped down to the frame tightly, and given the light weight of the occupants, the liner does an admirable job with only a few tiny leaks that are easily replaced by the truck's infinite water supply. The first night they are there is a simple soup and sandwiches meal and then some time in the hot tub looking at the stars.
Willow can't help but gaze into the night sky, and Alexis finds herself doing the same thing, along with Buffy. The only one that seems somewhat immune to the siren's call of it is Kendra, and even she is taken by a beauty that she hasn't seen in a good long while. They are silent for a time, sipping their iced-down drinks and staring at the night sky while soaking in the hot water until Willow speaks barely loud enough to be heard over the legion of crickets that seem to be surrounding them.
"So many stars. You can never see this many at home."
Kendra nods. "Light pollution. Well, that and the smog. But out here in the wilds, it is like this every night. One of the nice parts about being the Slayer that was sent to the ends of the earth was that there were more nights like this in my year after being called than I can even remember." She smiles in the darkness. "Though the hot tub is a nice change, and the company is better."
Buffy is lost looking at the heavens. "It's beautiful. Makes me wish I knew something about the constellations, so we could point to them and stuff. All I see is a mess of white specks against the black."
Alex sighs. "If we were in the game world, I could help you there. Knowing the stars is required for navigation and stuff, so I learned it all. But these are all different. There's nothing the same." A tired chuckle escapes her. "I have memories of spending hundreds of hours learning a skill that has been rendered completely useless. What a wonderful thing to suddenly realize."
Willow nods. "I feel the same way about every other year or so when half of my computer skills become obsolete. It's pretty much the suck."
The silence falls across the group again as the first sliver of the moon becomes visible. It's a crescent in the night sky of what seems to be pure silver shining down on them.
Buffy looks speculative as she stares at the sky. "Do you really suppose it's worth it? What we do? In the face of how big everything really is, that our little mudball has an identity crisis and isn't sure if it wants to be hell or not, do you think it really matters? I mean, not that I want to stop or anything. It may be a mud ball, but I live here. But in a million years, will there be anyone here to care about what we did do you think? Will they even know? In a hundred thousand? In a hundred?"
She doesn't really realize it at first and the moisture from the tub and the darkness hides it pretty well, but she is starting to tear up as she continues.
"We're doing better than anybody has ever done before, according to Giles. But I've read those Watcher's journals too, some of them. And so many people have fought so hard and died so young and nobody even knows except a few stodgy tweed-wearing jerks."
She blinks as the first of her tears rolls down her face. "I know it's supposed to be this big secret. I understand why it has to be. But I don't want to die, and it seems to me that the only thing worse than dying young for the world is for the world to not even know we did it."
Kendra slides over on the bench at this point and wraps an arm around her as they all continue to stare at the sky. The silence drags on for over a minute, and Alexis finds herself answering without really thinking.
"For what it's worth, I don't do this to save the world. That... That's too much for me. I don't want to think about the world. I do this for you. And Willow. Kendra. Joyce and Dawn, Jenny, Cordy, Faith, and Desia. The crew. If I think about the world then I have to think about diseases running rampant in Africa, and dictatorships that cause more human misery and death on a daily basis than all the demons on the planet combined. The overfishing of the oceans, the destruction of the rainforest, global warming, all that crap. I don't want to think about that, so I don't. I think about me and mine. My family, my friends. We need a planet to live on. We need to be as safe as possible while we do it."
She falls silent for a moment as she considers what she means to say. "If it wasn't for the stupid Hellmouth, I'd move us all somewhere really boring and build an amusement park town for us to enjoy. But if they take out the planet, then they've killed my family and friends. So I stay on the Hellmouth and try to see to it that doesn't happen. By doing that I have the unique opportunity to help a few women that were called upon to save the world. By fate, choice, and circumstance. To arm and armor the finest this mudball has to offer against the darkness, and you're right. It sucks that the world doesn't know. But Diana knows. Joyce and Jenny know. Giles knows. We know. Your sister knows. And that just has to be good enough for me."
After that, they sit silently while the crickets chirp on undaunted by these thoughts. Each in their own mind, taking a moment to decompress a bit after years of stress that had been such a part of their lives they had forgotten it was even there.
>>>>
>> The House. July 16, 8 AM.
Dawn has gotten up early today and was sketching out possibilities in a spiral notebook while she waited for Lauren to drop her off on her way to the dry cleaners at the summer crafts day camp that was set up at the city park. For a daily fee, college art students were willing to teach the basics of a dizzying number of arts and crafts for two weeks during the summer, everything from painting and sculpting to tailoring and leatherworking. Nothing with metal, unfortunately, but her mom explained that the kids were too young to be playing with things like that at the park anyway.
As she doodles possibilities and thinks about what she actually wants to make when Alex is back to supervise, since she had made promises along those lines before they left, there is a knocking on her door.
"It's open."
The door opens and Melinda walks into the room with a somewhat manic smile on her face. "Hey, Dawn. Look, I need you to see something. I need someone to verify this so I know I'm not losing my mind."
She waits a moment as if expecting a response. As soon as Dawn nods, she dashes over to the window and closes the blackout curtains, plunging the room into darkness. Then she reaches into her pocket for a marble, holds it out in front of her cupped in her palm, and speaks words that wash over Dawn's mind and leave no memory in their wake.
In response the marble glows brightly in her hand, giving off a soft light that penetrates the darkest corners of the room with ease, yet is not unpleasant to stare at.
"Please, Dawn. Tell me you're seeing this. Tell me I'm not just losing my mind."
Dawn smiles and then flashes a wide smirk. "Well, you might be losing your mind. But if you are, it has nothing to do with this."
Melinda sits heavily onto the bed and looks again at Dawn where she sits at the desk. The marble rolls out of her hand onto the bedspread, still cheerfully lighting the room.
"I did it. And you did it. And Jeffery is working really hard at it, so I bet he'll do it." The manic smile reappears. "We're almost there."
Dawn shakes her head confusedly. "Almost where?"
Melinda just nods happily. "Almost to not having to be dependent on everybody else to keep us safe. You have no idea how much it sucks to never know day to day if anybody that had any real power was going to care about you one way or another. Jeff and I have only had each other since Christmas. But with a little power of our own, we can be the ones to protect everybody else for a change. We can be the ones to see to it people are safe."
Her eyes fall a bit and her expression becomes a little downcast.
"There is nothing in this world more horrible than to be in a bad, dangerous spot and have absolutely no power to change it. And now?"
She smiles again. "That won't be us anymore."
>>>>
>> Author's note.
Yogi Bear, to the best of my knowledge, is owned by Hanna-Barbera. Though I wouldn't be shocked if some other studio bought the rights, I can assure you that at the least, I know that I don't own them.
Fears.
>>>>
Buffy wakes up late but decides that since they were stuck dealing with the meth lab until four in the morning before they had cleared everything that screamed ookiness, she was entitled. She glances at the small clock on the wall in the dim light of the tiny bulletproof window. Well, small as wall clocks go at only five inches or so across the face of it. But at her current size and in this room it is plenty big enough.
It being ten thirty, she decides that there isn't much purpose in getting too crazy. The morning is pretty much shot, and chances are they won't be doing anything until after lunch. Standing, she once again glances around the tiny living quarters. The ceilings being three and a half feet tall and the room only being three feet by four feet, you'd think it would be stiflingly small. But at her current size, it really isn't too bad. All it contains is a bed, a small cupboard with a lock on it, and two doors. One leads to a tiny little bathroom with a metal homemade sink and toilette combo, where the sink is somehow sitting on the back of the toilette and drains into the tank for flushing. Relieving herself takes a moment, and then the handwashing a moment more.
She's still in her sleep clothes. Unfortunately, after a few hours of experiments at the start of the trip, they had to admit that Alexis was right. There really is no comfortable way to be a normal size human in these rooms and get dressed in your regular-sized clothes. So the locker/shower room in the back is required.
Well, for everybody but Kendra anyway. The first thing she did is move her clothing into the lockbox in her bedroom and buy a tiny rubber stopper for the sink so she could use it as a small bathtub when she's eight inches tall. If you had asked Buffy three weeks ago if she would ever envy somebody half her size, she'd have told you that you had lost your mind. But it is what it is. Exiting the room brings her into a short hallway with a steep and narrow staircase on one end and the four doors to enter the rooms in the middle. The other end of the hall which stretches the width of the truck is the usual storage place for Howlback. There is actually room enough for two cassette-styled Iron defenders to cozy up to each other on the far side and set themselves into a little half-height box so if they hit rough roads they won't get jostled around too much.
She slowly goes down the stairs and enters the living area as she hears the conversation and doesn't want to intrude, rather just ease herself into the room. At the bottom she can see that aside from Kendra the rest of the truck's occupants are in the same shape she is in the sense of still wearing pajamas, and while they appear to be done eating the cereal bowls they used are still decorating the coffee table. The three of them are watching television, some kind of morning edition news broadcast that is making wild speculation on what happened in the underground last night with the volume turned way down as they discuss the scrolling information that constantly marches across the bottom of the screen. Buffy groans and everybody else looks over at her.
Willow smiles at her irritated face. "It's no problem. None of it should affect us."
Buffy jerks a thumb back to the shower area, which they packed full of illicit chemicals and a pair of dead fish-men that used to be police officers. "Are you sure? Because it doesn't seem like it would be a good idea to open the back door. Ever."
Alexis shrugs with a slight smirk on her face. "Already handled. Gerard's people showed up about eight this morning with a van and took possession. The guy said they were going to ship the whole thing to Henry via F.B.I. Express. I've already cleaned it all out, we're good."
She gets a look on her face that is somewhere between annoyed and mournful. "What I need to know now is where everybody wants to go? So far I'm three for three disasters, I think somebody else gets to pick the next place."
Kendra's eyes light up. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think I know what we should do. We keep having trouble in cities, maybe we should try being out in the woods? I always wanted to see the forest when I wasn't tasked with hunting or killing something, and one of the most famous national parks in the world is only a couple of days' drive from here. It was even in a cartoon about bears."
She stops talking suddenly and looks a little bashful. "I have seen it once when I was supposed to be practicing my martial arts in the hotel room we were staying in at the time. I think I was eleven. My watcher was not pleased when he walked in."
Alex, Willow, and Buffy all look confused for a moment, and then Willow giggles. "Was the bear named Yogi?"
Kendra grins. "Yes! Though it took me some time later to find the park on a map, they used the wrong name in the cartoon. They called it Jellystone."
Alex nods. "Does anybody have a problem with a few days to a week camping at Yellowstone park? We'll show up as tiny people, throw up the hot tub, and just chill for a while. No worries about anything. We'll have air conditioning if we get hot, heaters if we get cold, running water, electricity, we can stock up on the way there. It'll be just like being home except there will be new things to do and better scenery."
Buffy feels herself die a little on the inside. "There isn't going to be any shopping there. No shoes, no anything." She brightens. "I'll tell you what, I'll spend a week in cartoon bear land if the next stop is Las Vegas. We can go shopping, take in some shows, it'll be fun!"
Alex turns to Willow. "Are you okay with that?"
Willow grins. "Sure, that sounds fun. My only request was a stop in L.A. At some point. I know it really isn't far from home, but in some ways, that's almost better. We actually know a little about it, but we've never experienced it with each other. Five-star restaurants and a chance to wander around Hollywood and point at the famous people's homes might be a little ridiculous, but it sounds like fun to me. Besides, I think it would be a hoot to see if we can find some of your art pieces that Joyce sold through the auction house that I know are now in expensive hotel lobbies and upscale restaurants. Just for giggles."
Buffy looks pleased. "Not to mention some of the best shopping ever."
Willow nods. "Well yeah, that too I suppose."
Alexis nods. "Okay then, if that's the plan, let me call our shadows and let them know what we are up to, then we can get out of here before Margo shows up again. You know she will, what with the news being crazy today. My bet is the only reason she isn't here already is she's trying to get into the underground lab at the moment."
Buffy scowls. "Our shadows? You mean Henry was serious? We are going to have some Marshals following us around?"
Willow nods as Kendra collects the cereal bowls from the coffee table and Alexis is heading towards the back to get showered. "Yuppers. When Alex talked to him last night he made noises about how we always got into trouble no matter what we did and he wanted to assign a couple of people to be there and run interference if we ran into more issues. I guess they won't be with us, really, but they'll be within ten to fifteen miles of us for the rest of the trip so if we run into trouble there's somebody around that can help with the legal and paperwork end of things." Then Willow smirks and continues. "Oh, and we put your paperwork and badge on the kitchen counter. You might want to move it to your locker upstairs and try to keep the badge on you, just in case."
Buffy giggles. "They actually gave us badges?"
Kendra nods from where she is washing the dishes. "Yes. I gather it is more of an honorary position than anything else, but we have them."
Buffy collects hers from the counter and after opening the little fold of leather finds herself laughing hysterically. Willow and Kendra walk up to her, with Willow asking: "What's so funny?"
Buffy wipes the back of her hand across her forehead as she lays the badge on the counter, open so they can see it. "Somewhere, in some little industrial shop where these things get engraved, some guy that's probably been doing this for thirty years just got a rush order from the big-cheese-reports-to-the-President director to chisel "Buffy" onto a Federal Marshal's badge. The mental image of the look on that man's face hit me all of a sudden."
After a few moments, the laughter in the room picks up again, louder than before.
>>>>
>> The Truck, July 15. 3 PM.
The drive to the park is uneventful, and after stopping for supplies on the way they find themselves slipping into a campground deep into the park. As they are comfortable being in an area that is as far from modern conveniences as it is possible to get and their truck has no problem with getting places that a more typical motor home would shy away from, they end up mostly alone. There are only a few camper vans even in sight from where they are and while it isn't visible from the ground, from the roof of the truck the view of Yellowstone lake is gorgeous.
It takes Alexis and Kendra only a few minutes to set up the hot tub on the roof, the metal frame coming together easily and the waterproof liner slipping into it without trouble. Strapped down to the frame tightly, and given the light weight of the occupants, the liner does an admirable job with only a few tiny leaks that are easily replaced by the truck's infinite water supply. The first night they are there is a simple soup and sandwiches meal and then some time in the hot tub looking at the stars.
Willow can't help but gaze into the night sky, and Alexis finds herself doing the same thing, along with Buffy. The only one that seems somewhat immune to the siren's call of it is Kendra, and even she is taken by a beauty that she hasn't seen in a good long while. They are silent for a time, sipping their iced-down drinks and staring at the night sky while soaking in the hot water until Willow speaks barely loud enough to be heard over the legion of crickets that seem to be surrounding them.
"So many stars. You can never see this many at home."
Kendra nods. "Light pollution. Well, that and the smog. But out here in the wilds, it is like this every night. One of the nice parts about being the Slayer that was sent to the ends of the earth was that there were more nights like this in my year after being called than I can even remember." She smiles in the darkness. "Though the hot tub is a nice change, and the company is better."
Buffy is lost looking at the heavens. "It's beautiful. Makes me wish I knew something about the constellations, so we could point to them and stuff. All I see is a mess of white specks against the black."
Alex sighs. "If we were in the game world, I could help you there. Knowing the stars is required for navigation and stuff, so I learned it all. But these are all different. There's nothing the same." A tired chuckle escapes her. "I have memories of spending hundreds of hours learning a skill that has been rendered completely useless. What a wonderful thing to suddenly realize."
Willow nods. "I feel the same way about every other year or so when half of my computer skills become obsolete. It's pretty much the suck."
The silence falls across the group again as the first sliver of the moon becomes visible. It's a crescent in the night sky of what seems to be pure silver shining down on them.
Buffy looks speculative as she stares at the sky. "Do you really suppose it's worth it? What we do? In the face of how big everything really is, that our little mudball has an identity crisis and isn't sure if it wants to be hell or not, do you think it really matters? I mean, not that I want to stop or anything. It may be a mud ball, but I live here. But in a million years, will there be anyone here to care about what we did do you think? Will they even know? In a hundred thousand? In a hundred?"
She doesn't really realize it at first and the moisture from the tub and the darkness hides it pretty well, but she is starting to tear up as she continues.
"We're doing better than anybody has ever done before, according to Giles. But I've read those Watcher's journals too, some of them. And so many people have fought so hard and died so young and nobody even knows except a few stodgy tweed-wearing jerks."
She blinks as the first of her tears rolls down her face. "I know it's supposed to be this big secret. I understand why it has to be. But I don't want to die, and it seems to me that the only thing worse than dying young for the world is for the world to not even know we did it."
Kendra slides over on the bench at this point and wraps an arm around her as they all continue to stare at the sky. The silence drags on for over a minute, and Alexis finds herself answering without really thinking.
"For what it's worth, I don't do this to save the world. That... That's too much for me. I don't want to think about the world. I do this for you. And Willow. Kendra. Joyce and Dawn, Jenny, Cordy, Faith, and Desia. The crew. If I think about the world then I have to think about diseases running rampant in Africa, and dictatorships that cause more human misery and death on a daily basis than all the demons on the planet combined. The overfishing of the oceans, the destruction of the rainforest, global warming, all that crap. I don't want to think about that, so I don't. I think about me and mine. My family, my friends. We need a planet to live on. We need to be as safe as possible while we do it."
She falls silent for a moment as she considers what she means to say. "If it wasn't for the stupid Hellmouth, I'd move us all somewhere really boring and build an amusement park town for us to enjoy. But if they take out the planet, then they've killed my family and friends. So I stay on the Hellmouth and try to see to it that doesn't happen. By doing that I have the unique opportunity to help a few women that were called upon to save the world. By fate, choice, and circumstance. To arm and armor the finest this mudball has to offer against the darkness, and you're right. It sucks that the world doesn't know. But Diana knows. Joyce and Jenny know. Giles knows. We know. Your sister knows. And that just has to be good enough for me."
After that, they sit silently while the crickets chirp on undaunted by these thoughts. Each in their own mind, taking a moment to decompress a bit after years of stress that had been such a part of their lives they had forgotten it was even there.
>>>>
>> The House. July 16, 8 AM.
Dawn has gotten up early today and was sketching out possibilities in a spiral notebook while she waited for Lauren to drop her off on her way to the dry cleaners at the summer crafts day camp that was set up at the city park. For a daily fee, college art students were willing to teach the basics of a dizzying number of arts and crafts for two weeks during the summer, everything from painting and sculpting to tailoring and leatherworking. Nothing with metal, unfortunately, but her mom explained that the kids were too young to be playing with things like that at the park anyway.
As she doodles possibilities and thinks about what she actually wants to make when Alex is back to supervise, since she had made promises along those lines before they left, there is a knocking on her door.
"It's open."
The door opens and Melinda walks into the room with a somewhat manic smile on her face. "Hey, Dawn. Look, I need you to see something. I need someone to verify this so I know I'm not losing my mind."
She waits a moment as if expecting a response. As soon as Dawn nods, she dashes over to the window and closes the blackout curtains, plunging the room into darkness. Then she reaches into her pocket for a marble, holds it out in front of her cupped in her palm, and speaks words that wash over Dawn's mind and leave no memory in their wake.
In response the marble glows brightly in her hand, giving off a soft light that penetrates the darkest corners of the room with ease, yet is not unpleasant to stare at.
"Please, Dawn. Tell me you're seeing this. Tell me I'm not just losing my mind."
Dawn smiles and then flashes a wide smirk. "Well, you might be losing your mind. But if you are, it has nothing to do with this."
Melinda sits heavily onto the bed and looks again at Dawn where she sits at the desk. The marble rolls out of her hand onto the bedspread, still cheerfully lighting the room.
"I did it. And you did it. And Jeffery is working really hard at it, so I bet he'll do it." The manic smile reappears. "We're almost there."
Dawn shakes her head confusedly. "Almost where?"
Melinda just nods happily. "Almost to not having to be dependent on everybody else to keep us safe. You have no idea how much it sucks to never know day to day if anybody that had any real power was going to care about you one way or another. Jeff and I have only had each other since Christmas. But with a little power of our own, we can be the ones to protect everybody else for a change. We can be the ones to see to it people are safe."
Her eyes fall a bit and her expression becomes a little downcast.
"There is nothing in this world more horrible than to be in a bad, dangerous spot and have absolutely no power to change it. And now?"
She smiles again. "That won't be us anymore."
>>>>
>> Author's note.
Yogi Bear, to the best of my knowledge, is owned by Hanna-Barbera. Though I wouldn't be shocked if some other studio bought the rights, I can assure you that at the least, I know that I don't own them.
Yeah, watchers where pretty much cultists. No, you can't destress with cartoons little child, you must train the art of murder.... Don't want you to be able to connect with anyone but us after all, you might get ideas
Sparks.
Chapter 89
Sparks.
>>>>
>> The House. July 16. 12:30 PM.
Faith wakes up slowly as the pounding on the door grows more and more annoying.
"Oh my God, what is it!?"
Diana's voice comes through the oak veneer paneling loud and clear. "Faith dear, you need to get up. We've made promises that we need to follow through on if you'll recall."
Sitting up, Faith groans in irritation. Make no mistake, she understands that Alexis, Buffy, Willow, and Kendra deserved the break. Most of them have been at it for three years, and Kendra had done nothing but patrol or train for slaying her whole life. Nobody will deny that they need a chance to get away for a while. But even still, getting stuck on patrols every night wasn't a lot of fun, even with Desia to chat with as they go.
Of course, as Diana has been quick to remind her, between the equipment she's supplied and now the salary she pays the duo, Alexis is pretty much their boss. Which makes Faith's irritation something less than valid. As a pair, Alexis is paying a hundred grand a year to the two of them to use as they see fit. Which would possibly be pretty cheap except she also provides luxury accommodations, free equipment upgrades constantly, free food, and is willing to make for nothing any oddball clothes or tools they want up to and including an armored vehicle that doesn't use gas for them to use when they need to travel. The plans are already on the books, for sometime after the Rig is finished and their Boat is squared away.
So basically, for their services they are provided a beautiful life and fifty thousand a year each towards their eventual retirement. Diana wasn't paid nearly so well by the council, and Faith knows she couldn't do any better anywhere else.
Plus, it's the same deal that Alex is offering all the people that put their time in night after night. All told it comes to something like half a million dollars a year in salaries that are just getting put into bank accounts for the crew. She made the announcement just before they left town. Something about Henry's check clearing for the poison cures and the grand total being enough to offer people compensation for at least twelve consecutive years. And that's not even counting the salary that Henry is paying them as contractors. Alexis gets the lion's share as it was negotiated by Giles to help defray the operating costs of their little enterprise, but everybody that lives in the house still gets thirty thousand a year in a bank account straight from the government. Even Dawn and the two new kids, though they won't have access to it until they're at least sixteen by Joyce's decree.
So given all of that when she was asked politely if she could volunteer her time three days a week to work with Giles, Diana, Henry, Gerard, and Dr. Walsh in trying to set up a definitive training program for Linmeyer's sacrificial lambs... Well, she didn't really have a tactful way to decline.
As she sits there musing over this irritation, the door is knocked on again. "Faith, I don't hear the shower going. I let you sleep as long as I could, we are due to be there in half an hour, and be mindful that you've not yet eaten. Please hurry."
"Alright already! Damn." And with a huff of annoyance, she ceases her musing and heads toward the bathroom.
Twenty-eight minutes later, the two of them are walking into the back doors of Lowell House and to the elevator in the building that will take them into the facility proper. Walking into the initiative meeting room just a few seconds after the specified time, the first thing Faith notices is that there are two additional men in the briefing. The first is Admiral Linmeyer, who is sitting next to Henry. But the second is new to her. He isn't young anymore but certainly wouldn't qualify as old either. Faith guesses his age at about thirty-five or forty. There is just the slightest bit of graying hair at his temples, and he is in a uniform that, if anything, is even more colorful than the Admiral's in the sense of having entirely too much in the way of medals and ribbons hanging off of it.
He narrows his eyes just slightly when he sees her enter the room, but offers a genuine smile as he does so. Henry makes all the introductions, and at the end, he introduces the new man as Commander James Curran, who will be leading whichever group of SEALs was currently on rotation to deal with demonic incursions when the United States gets wind of one outside of Sunnydale.
Faith tries not to fall asleep during Giles' speech to the new guy, and they start going over the material covered the last time they did this, with the Initiative soldiers. She manages to hide her irritation for a good twenty minutes, but when they start trying to decide how to outfit their men she can't hold back the eye roll and sigh any longer. Admiral Linmeyer it would appear was not quite as unaware of her annoyance as he was showing previously, because when he catches that he drops the folder that he is looking at and gives her a rather pointed look over his bifocals.
"Miss Lehane, is there a problem?"
Henry looks annoyed and Giles perturbed.
Diana just winces slightly and puts on a rather stoic front.
Faith looks across the table and offers the Admiral back a smirk. "Not at all. I get paid whether we are wasting our fuck'n time or not. Please, waste away."
Henry looks at her confused while Linmeyer is turning red and obviously getting ready to bark out some kind of order. Henry puts a hand up to forestall the breakdown of the polite fiction and turns to look Faith in the eye.
"Suppose for a moment that you are correct. Can you tell us why this is a waste of time?"
She shrugs. "Because you people are making some pretty damn basic mistakes here. First, the two people that are going to be most directly involved in keeping these SEALs guys alive haven't really got a clue what they're facing yet. You're trying to decide the appropriate tools for a job and that's great, but you're figuring out how to fly an airplane and you're using your skills as a garbage man to do it. Just because you know how to drive a big thing does not make the jobs similar."
She snaps her gum with a grin and continues when Linmeyer is opening his mouth to say something.
"Second, we already know what happens when you listen too hard to what we consider to be a good set of tools. It didn't work out so well last time. Learn from your mistakes. But really, those two are chump change compared to the big two. When we do our thing, we have to be able to do it quiet. There's civilians around. Now, I'm not a fuck'n expert but I'm betting that if you're sending in a damn SEAL team the options of 'blow it to hell' and 'burn it to the ground,' are probably still on the table. So if you really wanted this meeting to do any good, the first thing you needed to have done is talk to Giles and Diana about the tools you already have and figure out which ones will work just fine or even better than what we have."
She passes her eyes over the room with an insolent smirk that would be begging any drill instructor to run her until she pukes.
"And lastly, having this meeting at all without Alex in the room is just dumb as shit. Any specialized gear you end up needing, there's a fair bet she'll be making it and she'll probably have some good ideas no matter what. She is the best there is at what you people are trying to do right now bar none. I can't believe you'd even bother when you could just wait a few weeks and she'll be back from vacation."
Then she smiles. "But like I said, I get paid no matter what. Never mind me."
When she gets done talking, Linmeyer looks like he might explode, but Commander Curran surprises everybody by breaking out into a laugh. After a few seconds, he manages to cut it off and turns to Linmeyer. "Begging your pardon Sir. But if what she's said is true I should probably start learning the ins and outs of what makes these 'Hostile Sub-Terrestrials tick."
Linmeyer looks around the room and sees that the general consensus is that Faith was right. "Fine. But remember Henry, we have a Presidential deadline here. You'll be receiving the first recruits for this instruction, whatever it ends up being, in less than three weeks. We'd better have something ready for them when they get here."
As Faith leans back in her chair she crosses her arm and silently curses in the back corners of her mind Alex and Buffy for leaving her here to deal with this. Yeah, they needed the vacation. But after this crap, she'll need one even more.
>>>>
>> The Ship. Same time.
Jenny looks again at the plans that Alexis left her and then redirects the engineer they had hired to start the refit while she was out of town to the next important bit to get done. So many things that can change on this boat. So many that have to if they are going to do the modifications that Alexis intends to on time for this trip they need to take in October to assess the new Hellmouth on the Galapagos. The plan as she understands it is to get the teleport pads functional, take the ship down there, and then leave it anchored on station so they can have a presence in the area.
But there is so much to do first. Fuel tanks can be removed, and the huge water and sewage tanks intended to service a crew for long voyages as well. The standard engine housing needs to be emptied and rebuilt so the new system she devised can be installed. The crew quarters are going to be completely rebuilt and expanded for the comfort of the crew, and the workshop, armory, and training areas in the hold redefined as well. So many changes, and she'll have only two months to get it done when she gets back around the seventeenth of August before the ship will need to be heading south. Jenny is hoping to have all the major structural work done and most or all of the wiring and basic plumbing of this beast sorted out before she gets back to work the magic and put the finishing touches on the various areas of the ship. So far, so good.
As the latest welder walks away with his marching orders, she considers again whether or not she wants to go back to teaching in the fall. The new Mayor has formally made it a point to tell every teacher at Sunnydale High that they have a job come fall if they want it. But does she? Between Alexis and Henry, she makes more now than she did when she was teaching. And cutting herself down to a single job would mean actually getting real sleep again.
She frowns as she considers everything. It would also give her the time she needs to set the Kalderash and their legacy of supposed justice to bed finally. She hasn't made much progress on that yet because full-time teaching and the Hellmouth didn't leave room for anything else.
She sighs as she glares at the ship's plans again. In the end, she's stalling because she doesn't want to give up on the teaching degree she earned, but she is going to quit. There is just no margin in staying on as a teacher. Between running Ted as patrol backup, being one of two go-to hackers for the Scoobies and the Initiative, acting as unofficial tech support for the group as well as a part-time mad scientist in combination with Alexis, and trying to teach her Techno-Pagan ways to Willow... She's booked. The only way she was able to do all of that and teach was to let various things she was trying to do suffer for it.
Looking around, she allows a small smile of satisfaction. Even at her worst projections, this little project will be off her plate a week before Alex gets back. A week that she can spend with Giles and nothing else getting in the way is long overdue.
>>>>
>> The Gallery. Same time.
Joyce smiles pleasantly at the cream of the Sunnydale cesspool as they wander around her shop. It says something about how locally famous Alexis is that the month of no art deliveries between the ascension prep and now her vacation has seen anything with her makers mark stripped from the walls. She has it on good authority that a lot of it is actually being taken to LA to be auctioned in the same houses she used to take things to. With three children at the thirteen to fourteen-year range under her care now, she has stopped the overnights out of town for business-related reasons. Honestly, what little extra she might have made personally by using the auction house has been more than made up for by the money from Henry, and so selling in the Gallery only has worked out well.
Let someone else deal with LA art snobs trying to price gouge with auction fees for a change.
Three kids now. Four, if you count Buffy. Which she does, just because she is eighteen doesn't make her any less Joyce's baby girl. It has been an interesting ride, the last few years.
She finds herself scowling at the piece of mail hidden under the counter. Hank. Buffy's father. He finally got around to sending back an apology for not being able to make it to Buffy's graduation.
It had arrived July eighth. Almost a month after school would have been out, even if the school hadn't been blown up on the day the graduation was supposed to take place. Something else that he had apparently not known.
Oh, she knows about the supposed spell and how it stops information from getting out. But if he had bothered to look into it, if he'd contacted anybody. If he could have stopped screwing that idiot secretary of his long enough to make a damn phone call, he'd have known. But no. Instead, he sent an apology with a fifty in it, a month late. How she could have ever loved the man she'll never know, and now that he has supplied the sperm for her baby girls if he had any decency at all given what he hasn't done for the last few years... He'd crawl in a hole and die. She then makes an effort to perk up as a couple makes their way to the counter, talking excitedly about some piece they found.
>>>>
>> The Truck, Yellowstone National Park. July 22. 10 AM
Buffy again walks down the stairs a little slowly. They had gotten to sleep about eleven the night before. Pretty early for them, but even if the odds were really highly against, none of them were interested in finding out if the lightning storm that started about then was going to find them in a pool of water on top of a giant slab of rolling metal.
At this point, they have spent nearly a week here. They've gone swimming, hiked out to the various geysers and bubbling mud holes and all the other smelly things that Willow was interested in. And they have spent time every night in the hot tub. Just talking, and laughing. Looking at the stars. Being there for each other.
Also, she's been under three feet tall for a week. Having slayer strength and being that small at the same time takes some getting used to. Lots and lots of power, moving about twenty pounds. It seems strange that she would sleep this late having gotten to bed so early, but she guesses she needed the sleep. The others, apparently having heard her moving around, start filtering their way downstairs and all goes well until Alexis throws open the curtains on the small window off the living room.
Fog? No. It can't be fog. Not at ten in the morning in the middle of July. Then she hears Kendra gasp and turns to see her fellow Slayer pointing, her placement in front of the window giving her a different viewpoint. "Fire!"
For a few seconds, everyone freezes. Thoughts realign. For now, at least temporarily, the vacation is officially over.
Alexis looks down at herself and mumbles something under her breath, causing her armor to appear on her as she is running back up the stairs. "Armor up, don't forget your breathing protection. Willow, get on the radio and find out what's going on. Buffy, Kendra, get yourselves on the roof and set up the two hoses. Dump the hot tub while you're at it and put away the liner. Shouldn't take long. I would leave the hot tub rails up, you can tie yourselves off to them. Make it easier to manage the hoses. I need to grab something. Don't forget your earpieces."
By the time she is done talking she is coming back downstairs and everyone is moving. Alexis goes to the armory and collects the magic gun she used on the mayor, then sets it to freezing. She hands it to Buffy as the two walk into the armory. "It's set to cold. Fifteen-foot cone, it should do a number on any normal fire you aim it at. Be careful though, you'll probably kill any normal person you hit with it."
Alexis is just getting into the driver's seat when Willow's voice comes over the earpieces. "Umm, Red here. There is a lot of radio chatter people, and none of it is good. It sounds like there were twelve lightning strikes that hit the ground last night and started fires. Four of them were in and around campgrounds and a bunch of them all over got whipped into firestorms by the wind. To make it worse, they only have two engines and crews here. All the other wilderness firefighters in the region got pulled for another wildfire almost two hundred miles away. I guess they're trying to get some crews from the local towns out here but from what I am hearing the fire is jumping the roads and downing trees onto them in a lot of places, so it's going to be a while before the city trucks can get close. The big problem right now is the roads are impassible between the fire and the downed trees. Everybody that doesn't have a boat is stuck in the fire."
"Slayer here. Smalls and I are on the roof. She tied off to the hot tub frame in the rear, I'm attached to the spare tire you have locked down over the cab. You were right about the pressure though. If we're only using one hose it's pretty good. I'm glad we're tied off, it'd throw a halfling right off the truck. But if we try to kick on both of them it isn't nearly so impressive."
Alexis hops on the party line. "Q here. Red, get busy on the radio. Let them know we have a wildfire capable engine here and we need to know where to go."
Willow apparently wasn't expecting this, because she stammers a bit as she responds. "Oh, uh... Okay."
She is silent for a few seconds and Alexis gets back on the earpieces. "Q here again. Look, you two on the roof? Your suits are built to keep you comfortable in extreme temperatures, but this might be a little too extreme. They'll raise or lower your personal bubble by up to fifty degrees trying to get it closer to seventy. But that also means that if you are starting to get hotter than is comfortable, remember we're from California. The temperature is probably in access of a hundred and fifty degrees up there. If that happens you need to let me know. There are other steps I can take if it comes to that, but they're temporary and a little expensive, so I'd rather not if we don't have to."
Willow comes back on the line. "Red here. They aren't happy and I'm not sure they believed me, but they must be desperate because they said if we really had a rig that can make it there are three campsite turnarounds a bit north of us that are cut off by the fire having screwed up the road with fallen trees, and they're trapped in the path of a lot of pain. They have a few helicopters on the way and they are going to try an evacuation but they aren't sure the airlift is going to make it in time."
"Q to Red. Is the GPS Cyberwitch installed working?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Then there's buckles in the living space. Dig one out of the couch and use that big screen to direct me. We're rolling out. Slayer and Smalls? You two are going to have way better visibility than I will. If you see anybody that needs help, let me know."
With that, the vehicle is put into drive and begins moving forward at around thirty miles per hour. It takes only eight minutes to reach the campground they were talking about, but the problem the people are having is obvious when they get there. The fire and a pair of falling trees have caused a minor rock slide that has obliterated the only road into the campground. The truck might make it over that. But if it didn't, it would be bad. When she stops the truck, she doesn't even have time to say anything before Buffy is jumping down in front of the truck. But this isn't little Buffy, This isn't even standard Buffy. The Buffy that hops down in front of the truck is almost twelve feet tall, wearing the combat boots that she is. Rather than cut up the trees blocking the road, she uses the freeze gun to put out the raging fire and then bodily hauls them off the road while a powerful stream of water from the roof is keeping the rest of the fire at bay.
"Slayer here. Smalls, go ahead and unhook my hose and take a second to secure it." She drops to tiny Buffy size. "Somebody is going to have to be the people person, might as well be me. I'll use the gun if I have any fire problems."
Then she starts moving forward into the campsite. With the trees out of the way, the old 6X6 beast easily clambers over the rock slide and into the campground, where they find that most of the campsites have been abandoned, and the majority of the people are hiding in their cars which have been moved to the only good-sized open area in the campground, the spot in front of the outhouses.
"Q here. Slayer, talk to these people. We need to clear the area they're in before they manage to screw up their cars with all this smoke and we can't get them to turn over. So the damn helicopters have a place to land. I need to put a PA system on this thing. Smalls, what do you see up there?"
"Smalls here. Mostly smoke, honestly. But the fire looks to be mostly coming from the North East. It's between us and the lake for sure. Where are the other two campgrounds?"
"Red here. We drive around this one to get to them. It's like a big chain."
"Slayer here. You guys go clear the way for the other two camps to get here. They're close, right?"
"Red here. Yeah, they are both within a few hundred yards."
"So yeah, I'll get the cars out of the way and you can lead all those people here. We can protect them easier if they're all in one spot."
>>>>
In the end, the helicopters arrived to evacuate people three hours later, and sounded surprised there was anybody there to rescue when they did. By the time the evac arrives, Kendra and Buffy are using the water hose combined with the freeze gun to create large patches of artificial tundra all around the campsite, and Alexis was hosting five people that had managed to get hurt or were suffering from severe smoke inhalation in the beds on the truck, while another twenty people crowded in for standing room only and marveled at the efficiency of the air filters on the vehicle. As the helicopters were taking out the last of the displaced campers, Red comes back on the earpieces. "That's the last of the civilians. At this point, they are just trying to contain it and let it burn itself out. Are we still firefighters? Or are we getting out of here?"
There is a general feeling in the pause that follows that by and large, they'd like to leave. But Kendra is the one to ask the question.
"Did they ever get any more help, or is it still just two trucks?"
There is an audible sigh over the line. "Best case I am hearing they can get a few more crews in three days. There are apparently four major forest fires in the region not counting this one, and two of them are headed for towns. This is a bit lower priority."
"Slayer here. I still get my week in Vegas. I don't care if we are late getting home."
Alexis smiles as Buffy clambers back up to the roof and gets her hose ready again.
I'll tell you what, peeps. We got food for four days. After that, we leave. Come hell or high water, we be gone. Fair? Red, ask'em where they need engine... What did you tell them we were called?"
There is a giggle on the line. "I told them we were Engine Short Stack. They didn't seem to think it was as funny as I did."
The groans on the line from the other three make counterpoint to the crackling fire and gravel under the tires as they move out.
>>>>
>> Author's note.
To the best of my knowledge, there is no Commander James Curran in fiction. There is, however, a Lieutenant James Curran in the movie "NAVY SEALS" which came out in 1990, and in which the actor that played him looked about thirty years old, maybe thirty-five. Running the clock up ten years, if the man was still in I would imagine he would have seen at least a couple of promotions. And of course, I own neither the character nor the movie it is based on.
As an aside, this is one of those instances where the problem they just experienced? It'll likely never happen again. But if it did, it wouldn't matter. Because you can bet that Alexis will have a half dozen scrolls of Weather Control on the Truck within a couple of months, and whistling up a torrential downpour that covers a two-mile radius per casting and lasts for a day or so solves a lot of these issues.
She might even get a Weather Control device built into the truck that can be used a few times a day. It's spendy. Crazy spendy. But it's doable.
Sparks.
>>>>
>> The House. July 16. 12:30 PM.
Faith wakes up slowly as the pounding on the door grows more and more annoying.
"Oh my God, what is it!?"
Diana's voice comes through the oak veneer paneling loud and clear. "Faith dear, you need to get up. We've made promises that we need to follow through on if you'll recall."
Sitting up, Faith groans in irritation. Make no mistake, she understands that Alexis, Buffy, Willow, and Kendra deserved the break. Most of them have been at it for three years, and Kendra had done nothing but patrol or train for slaying her whole life. Nobody will deny that they need a chance to get away for a while. But even still, getting stuck on patrols every night wasn't a lot of fun, even with Desia to chat with as they go.
Of course, as Diana has been quick to remind her, between the equipment she's supplied and now the salary she pays the duo, Alexis is pretty much their boss. Which makes Faith's irritation something less than valid. As a pair, Alexis is paying a hundred grand a year to the two of them to use as they see fit. Which would possibly be pretty cheap except she also provides luxury accommodations, free equipment upgrades constantly, free food, and is willing to make for nothing any oddball clothes or tools they want up to and including an armored vehicle that doesn't use gas for them to use when they need to travel. The plans are already on the books, for sometime after the Rig is finished and their Boat is squared away.
So basically, for their services they are provided a beautiful life and fifty thousand a year each towards their eventual retirement. Diana wasn't paid nearly so well by the council, and Faith knows she couldn't do any better anywhere else.
Plus, it's the same deal that Alex is offering all the people that put their time in night after night. All told it comes to something like half a million dollars a year in salaries that are just getting put into bank accounts for the crew. She made the announcement just before they left town. Something about Henry's check clearing for the poison cures and the grand total being enough to offer people compensation for at least twelve consecutive years. And that's not even counting the salary that Henry is paying them as contractors. Alexis gets the lion's share as it was negotiated by Giles to help defray the operating costs of their little enterprise, but everybody that lives in the house still gets thirty thousand a year in a bank account straight from the government. Even Dawn and the two new kids, though they won't have access to it until they're at least sixteen by Joyce's decree.
So given all of that when she was asked politely if she could volunteer her time three days a week to work with Giles, Diana, Henry, Gerard, and Dr. Walsh in trying to set up a definitive training program for Linmeyer's sacrificial lambs... Well, she didn't really have a tactful way to decline.
As she sits there musing over this irritation, the door is knocked on again. "Faith, I don't hear the shower going. I let you sleep as long as I could, we are due to be there in half an hour, and be mindful that you've not yet eaten. Please hurry."
"Alright already! Damn." And with a huff of annoyance, she ceases her musing and heads toward the bathroom.
Twenty-eight minutes later, the two of them are walking into the back doors of Lowell House and to the elevator in the building that will take them into the facility proper. Walking into the initiative meeting room just a few seconds after the specified time, the first thing Faith notices is that there are two additional men in the briefing. The first is Admiral Linmeyer, who is sitting next to Henry. But the second is new to her. He isn't young anymore but certainly wouldn't qualify as old either. Faith guesses his age at about thirty-five or forty. There is just the slightest bit of graying hair at his temples, and he is in a uniform that, if anything, is even more colorful than the Admiral's in the sense of having entirely too much in the way of medals and ribbons hanging off of it.
He narrows his eyes just slightly when he sees her enter the room, but offers a genuine smile as he does so. Henry makes all the introductions, and at the end, he introduces the new man as Commander James Curran, who will be leading whichever group of SEALs was currently on rotation to deal with demonic incursions when the United States gets wind of one outside of Sunnydale.
Faith tries not to fall asleep during Giles' speech to the new guy, and they start going over the material covered the last time they did this, with the Initiative soldiers. She manages to hide her irritation for a good twenty minutes, but when they start trying to decide how to outfit their men she can't hold back the eye roll and sigh any longer. Admiral Linmeyer it would appear was not quite as unaware of her annoyance as he was showing previously, because when he catches that he drops the folder that he is looking at and gives her a rather pointed look over his bifocals.
"Miss Lehane, is there a problem?"
Henry looks annoyed and Giles perturbed.
Diana just winces slightly and puts on a rather stoic front.
Faith looks across the table and offers the Admiral back a smirk. "Not at all. I get paid whether we are wasting our fuck'n time or not. Please, waste away."
Henry looks at her confused while Linmeyer is turning red and obviously getting ready to bark out some kind of order. Henry puts a hand up to forestall the breakdown of the polite fiction and turns to look Faith in the eye.
"Suppose for a moment that you are correct. Can you tell us why this is a waste of time?"
She shrugs. "Because you people are making some pretty damn basic mistakes here. First, the two people that are going to be most directly involved in keeping these SEALs guys alive haven't really got a clue what they're facing yet. You're trying to decide the appropriate tools for a job and that's great, but you're figuring out how to fly an airplane and you're using your skills as a garbage man to do it. Just because you know how to drive a big thing does not make the jobs similar."
She snaps her gum with a grin and continues when Linmeyer is opening his mouth to say something.
"Second, we already know what happens when you listen too hard to what we consider to be a good set of tools. It didn't work out so well last time. Learn from your mistakes. But really, those two are chump change compared to the big two. When we do our thing, we have to be able to do it quiet. There's civilians around. Now, I'm not a fuck'n expert but I'm betting that if you're sending in a damn SEAL team the options of 'blow it to hell' and 'burn it to the ground,' are probably still on the table. So if you really wanted this meeting to do any good, the first thing you needed to have done is talk to Giles and Diana about the tools you already have and figure out which ones will work just fine or even better than what we have."
She passes her eyes over the room with an insolent smirk that would be begging any drill instructor to run her until she pukes.
"And lastly, having this meeting at all without Alex in the room is just dumb as shit. Any specialized gear you end up needing, there's a fair bet she'll be making it and she'll probably have some good ideas no matter what. She is the best there is at what you people are trying to do right now bar none. I can't believe you'd even bother when you could just wait a few weeks and she'll be back from vacation."
Then she smiles. "But like I said, I get paid no matter what. Never mind me."
When she gets done talking, Linmeyer looks like he might explode, but Commander Curran surprises everybody by breaking out into a laugh. After a few seconds, he manages to cut it off and turns to Linmeyer. "Begging your pardon Sir. But if what she's said is true I should probably start learning the ins and outs of what makes these 'Hostile Sub-Terrestrials tick."
Linmeyer looks around the room and sees that the general consensus is that Faith was right. "Fine. But remember Henry, we have a Presidential deadline here. You'll be receiving the first recruits for this instruction, whatever it ends up being, in less than three weeks. We'd better have something ready for them when they get here."
As Faith leans back in her chair she crosses her arm and silently curses in the back corners of her mind Alex and Buffy for leaving her here to deal with this. Yeah, they needed the vacation. But after this crap, she'll need one even more.
>>>>
>> The Ship. Same time.
Jenny looks again at the plans that Alexis left her and then redirects the engineer they had hired to start the refit while she was out of town to the next important bit to get done. So many things that can change on this boat. So many that have to if they are going to do the modifications that Alexis intends to on time for this trip they need to take in October to assess the new Hellmouth on the Galapagos. The plan as she understands it is to get the teleport pads functional, take the ship down there, and then leave it anchored on station so they can have a presence in the area.
But there is so much to do first. Fuel tanks can be removed, and the huge water and sewage tanks intended to service a crew for long voyages as well. The standard engine housing needs to be emptied and rebuilt so the new system she devised can be installed. The crew quarters are going to be completely rebuilt and expanded for the comfort of the crew, and the workshop, armory, and training areas in the hold redefined as well. So many changes, and she'll have only two months to get it done when she gets back around the seventeenth of August before the ship will need to be heading south. Jenny is hoping to have all the major structural work done and most or all of the wiring and basic plumbing of this beast sorted out before she gets back to work the magic and put the finishing touches on the various areas of the ship. So far, so good.
As the latest welder walks away with his marching orders, she considers again whether or not she wants to go back to teaching in the fall. The new Mayor has formally made it a point to tell every teacher at Sunnydale High that they have a job come fall if they want it. But does she? Between Alexis and Henry, she makes more now than she did when she was teaching. And cutting herself down to a single job would mean actually getting real sleep again.
She frowns as she considers everything. It would also give her the time she needs to set the Kalderash and their legacy of supposed justice to bed finally. She hasn't made much progress on that yet because full-time teaching and the Hellmouth didn't leave room for anything else.
She sighs as she glares at the ship's plans again. In the end, she's stalling because she doesn't want to give up on the teaching degree she earned, but she is going to quit. There is just no margin in staying on as a teacher. Between running Ted as patrol backup, being one of two go-to hackers for the Scoobies and the Initiative, acting as unofficial tech support for the group as well as a part-time mad scientist in combination with Alexis, and trying to teach her Techno-Pagan ways to Willow... She's booked. The only way she was able to do all of that and teach was to let various things she was trying to do suffer for it.
Looking around, she allows a small smile of satisfaction. Even at her worst projections, this little project will be off her plate a week before Alex gets back. A week that she can spend with Giles and nothing else getting in the way is long overdue.
>>>>
>> The Gallery. Same time.
Joyce smiles pleasantly at the cream of the Sunnydale cesspool as they wander around her shop. It says something about how locally famous Alexis is that the month of no art deliveries between the ascension prep and now her vacation has seen anything with her makers mark stripped from the walls. She has it on good authority that a lot of it is actually being taken to LA to be auctioned in the same houses she used to take things to. With three children at the thirteen to fourteen-year range under her care now, she has stopped the overnights out of town for business-related reasons. Honestly, what little extra she might have made personally by using the auction house has been more than made up for by the money from Henry, and so selling in the Gallery only has worked out well.
Let someone else deal with LA art snobs trying to price gouge with auction fees for a change.
Three kids now. Four, if you count Buffy. Which she does, just because she is eighteen doesn't make her any less Joyce's baby girl. It has been an interesting ride, the last few years.
She finds herself scowling at the piece of mail hidden under the counter. Hank. Buffy's father. He finally got around to sending back an apology for not being able to make it to Buffy's graduation.
It had arrived July eighth. Almost a month after school would have been out, even if the school hadn't been blown up on the day the graduation was supposed to take place. Something else that he had apparently not known.
Oh, she knows about the supposed spell and how it stops information from getting out. But if he had bothered to look into it, if he'd contacted anybody. If he could have stopped screwing that idiot secretary of his long enough to make a damn phone call, he'd have known. But no. Instead, he sent an apology with a fifty in it, a month late. How she could have ever loved the man she'll never know, and now that he has supplied the sperm for her baby girls if he had any decency at all given what he hasn't done for the last few years... He'd crawl in a hole and die. She then makes an effort to perk up as a couple makes their way to the counter, talking excitedly about some piece they found.
>>>>
>> The Truck, Yellowstone National Park. July 22. 10 AM
Buffy again walks down the stairs a little slowly. They had gotten to sleep about eleven the night before. Pretty early for them, but even if the odds were really highly against, none of them were interested in finding out if the lightning storm that started about then was going to find them in a pool of water on top of a giant slab of rolling metal.
At this point, they have spent nearly a week here. They've gone swimming, hiked out to the various geysers and bubbling mud holes and all the other smelly things that Willow was interested in. And they have spent time every night in the hot tub. Just talking, and laughing. Looking at the stars. Being there for each other.
Also, she's been under three feet tall for a week. Having slayer strength and being that small at the same time takes some getting used to. Lots and lots of power, moving about twenty pounds. It seems strange that she would sleep this late having gotten to bed so early, but she guesses she needed the sleep. The others, apparently having heard her moving around, start filtering their way downstairs and all goes well until Alexis throws open the curtains on the small window off the living room.
Fog? No. It can't be fog. Not at ten in the morning in the middle of July. Then she hears Kendra gasp and turns to see her fellow Slayer pointing, her placement in front of the window giving her a different viewpoint. "Fire!"
For a few seconds, everyone freezes. Thoughts realign. For now, at least temporarily, the vacation is officially over.
Alexis looks down at herself and mumbles something under her breath, causing her armor to appear on her as she is running back up the stairs. "Armor up, don't forget your breathing protection. Willow, get on the radio and find out what's going on. Buffy, Kendra, get yourselves on the roof and set up the two hoses. Dump the hot tub while you're at it and put away the liner. Shouldn't take long. I would leave the hot tub rails up, you can tie yourselves off to them. Make it easier to manage the hoses. I need to grab something. Don't forget your earpieces."
By the time she is done talking she is coming back downstairs and everyone is moving. Alexis goes to the armory and collects the magic gun she used on the mayor, then sets it to freezing. She hands it to Buffy as the two walk into the armory. "It's set to cold. Fifteen-foot cone, it should do a number on any normal fire you aim it at. Be careful though, you'll probably kill any normal person you hit with it."
Alexis is just getting into the driver's seat when Willow's voice comes over the earpieces. "Umm, Red here. There is a lot of radio chatter people, and none of it is good. It sounds like there were twelve lightning strikes that hit the ground last night and started fires. Four of them were in and around campgrounds and a bunch of them all over got whipped into firestorms by the wind. To make it worse, they only have two engines and crews here. All the other wilderness firefighters in the region got pulled for another wildfire almost two hundred miles away. I guess they're trying to get some crews from the local towns out here but from what I am hearing the fire is jumping the roads and downing trees onto them in a lot of places, so it's going to be a while before the city trucks can get close. The big problem right now is the roads are impassible between the fire and the downed trees. Everybody that doesn't have a boat is stuck in the fire."
"Slayer here. Smalls and I are on the roof. She tied off to the hot tub frame in the rear, I'm attached to the spare tire you have locked down over the cab. You were right about the pressure though. If we're only using one hose it's pretty good. I'm glad we're tied off, it'd throw a halfling right off the truck. But if we try to kick on both of them it isn't nearly so impressive."
Alexis hops on the party line. "Q here. Red, get busy on the radio. Let them know we have a wildfire capable engine here and we need to know where to go."
Willow apparently wasn't expecting this, because she stammers a bit as she responds. "Oh, uh... Okay."
She is silent for a few seconds and Alexis gets back on the earpieces. "Q here again. Look, you two on the roof? Your suits are built to keep you comfortable in extreme temperatures, but this might be a little too extreme. They'll raise or lower your personal bubble by up to fifty degrees trying to get it closer to seventy. But that also means that if you are starting to get hotter than is comfortable, remember we're from California. The temperature is probably in access of a hundred and fifty degrees up there. If that happens you need to let me know. There are other steps I can take if it comes to that, but they're temporary and a little expensive, so I'd rather not if we don't have to."
Willow comes back on the line. "Red here. They aren't happy and I'm not sure they believed me, but they must be desperate because they said if we really had a rig that can make it there are three campsite turnarounds a bit north of us that are cut off by the fire having screwed up the road with fallen trees, and they're trapped in the path of a lot of pain. They have a few helicopters on the way and they are going to try an evacuation but they aren't sure the airlift is going to make it in time."
"Q to Red. Is the GPS Cyberwitch installed working?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Then there's buckles in the living space. Dig one out of the couch and use that big screen to direct me. We're rolling out. Slayer and Smalls? You two are going to have way better visibility than I will. If you see anybody that needs help, let me know."
With that, the vehicle is put into drive and begins moving forward at around thirty miles per hour. It takes only eight minutes to reach the campground they were talking about, but the problem the people are having is obvious when they get there. The fire and a pair of falling trees have caused a minor rock slide that has obliterated the only road into the campground. The truck might make it over that. But if it didn't, it would be bad. When she stops the truck, she doesn't even have time to say anything before Buffy is jumping down in front of the truck. But this isn't little Buffy, This isn't even standard Buffy. The Buffy that hops down in front of the truck is almost twelve feet tall, wearing the combat boots that she is. Rather than cut up the trees blocking the road, she uses the freeze gun to put out the raging fire and then bodily hauls them off the road while a powerful stream of water from the roof is keeping the rest of the fire at bay.
"Slayer here. Smalls, go ahead and unhook my hose and take a second to secure it." She drops to tiny Buffy size. "Somebody is going to have to be the people person, might as well be me. I'll use the gun if I have any fire problems."
Then she starts moving forward into the campsite. With the trees out of the way, the old 6X6 beast easily clambers over the rock slide and into the campground, where they find that most of the campsites have been abandoned, and the majority of the people are hiding in their cars which have been moved to the only good-sized open area in the campground, the spot in front of the outhouses.
"Q here. Slayer, talk to these people. We need to clear the area they're in before they manage to screw up their cars with all this smoke and we can't get them to turn over. So the damn helicopters have a place to land. I need to put a PA system on this thing. Smalls, what do you see up there?"
"Smalls here. Mostly smoke, honestly. But the fire looks to be mostly coming from the North East. It's between us and the lake for sure. Where are the other two campgrounds?"
"Red here. We drive around this one to get to them. It's like a big chain."
"Slayer here. You guys go clear the way for the other two camps to get here. They're close, right?"
"Red here. Yeah, they are both within a few hundred yards."
"So yeah, I'll get the cars out of the way and you can lead all those people here. We can protect them easier if they're all in one spot."
>>>>
In the end, the helicopters arrived to evacuate people three hours later, and sounded surprised there was anybody there to rescue when they did. By the time the evac arrives, Kendra and Buffy are using the water hose combined with the freeze gun to create large patches of artificial tundra all around the campsite, and Alexis was hosting five people that had managed to get hurt or were suffering from severe smoke inhalation in the beds on the truck, while another twenty people crowded in for standing room only and marveled at the efficiency of the air filters on the vehicle. As the helicopters were taking out the last of the displaced campers, Red comes back on the earpieces. "That's the last of the civilians. At this point, they are just trying to contain it and let it burn itself out. Are we still firefighters? Or are we getting out of here?"
There is a general feeling in the pause that follows that by and large, they'd like to leave. But Kendra is the one to ask the question.
"Did they ever get any more help, or is it still just two trucks?"
There is an audible sigh over the line. "Best case I am hearing they can get a few more crews in three days. There are apparently four major forest fires in the region not counting this one, and two of them are headed for towns. This is a bit lower priority."
"Slayer here. I still get my week in Vegas. I don't care if we are late getting home."
Alexis smiles as Buffy clambers back up to the roof and gets her hose ready again.
I'll tell you what, peeps. We got food for four days. After that, we leave. Come hell or high water, we be gone. Fair? Red, ask'em where they need engine... What did you tell them we were called?"
There is a giggle on the line. "I told them we were Engine Short Stack. They didn't seem to think it was as funny as I did."
The groans on the line from the other three make counterpoint to the crackling fire and gravel under the tires as they move out.
>>>>
>> Author's note.
To the best of my knowledge, there is no Commander James Curran in fiction. There is, however, a Lieutenant James Curran in the movie "NAVY SEALS" which came out in 1990, and in which the actor that played him looked about thirty years old, maybe thirty-five. Running the clock up ten years, if the man was still in I would imagine he would have seen at least a couple of promotions. And of course, I own neither the character nor the movie it is based on.
As an aside, this is one of those instances where the problem they just experienced? It'll likely never happen again. But if it did, it wouldn't matter. Because you can bet that Alexis will have a half dozen scrolls of Weather Control on the Truck within a couple of months, and whistling up a torrential downpour that covers a two-mile radius per casting and lasts for a day or so solves a lot of these issues.
She might even get a Weather Control device built into the truck that can be used a few times a day. It's spendy. Crazy spendy. But it's doable.
Sin City.
Chapter 90
Sin City.
>>>>
>> The Truck. July 27. 8:40 PM.
After four days solid of wrestling water hoses, clearing roads, and when possible dragging people's vehicles out of the path of the fire using a slapped-together tow assembly that Alex devised on day two, it is fair to say that the occupants of the now legendary 'Engine: Short Stack' were ready for a vacation from their vacation.
They had just about decided to stick it out and spend the rest of their vacation helping here, but they ran into a problem. The more successful they were, the more under control things became, the more time the legitimate fire crews had to speculate as to who they were and where they got their gear. At first, it was flattering. Then it became amusing, these rough and tumble men tripping over their own tongues trying to ask miniature women about their lives and where they bought their toys.
But on day three the press showed up in their numbers, apparently sensing a human interest story after the evacuated campers from the first day had been interviewed and those interviews had leaked. It took the combined efforts of both of Gerard's people to give them a window of opportunity to get out of there without the vultures knowing about it.
Having had an opportunity to truly get clean for the first time in days, Buffy and Kendra are all smiles in the back seat as the truck rolls along the freeway, with Alex driving and Willow futzing around on her laptop in the passenger seat. A green sign off to the right makes the proclamation they have been waiting for. Alexis calls it out for anybody that missed it.
"Vegas coming up in another forty miles. Unless anybody really hates the idea, I say we lot camp at a grocery store for the night, get some shopping done, and relax. We can hit the strip tomorrow. Does anybody have anything specific they wanted to do?" She glances back at Buffy. "Aside from shopping?"
Buffy offers a huge grin from the backseat. Kendra however looks mostly lost. "What all is there? All I know of is drinking and gambling. I am not particularly interested in either."
Willow starts reading aloud some of the things she is perusing on the web via Jenny's mystical modem hookup she installed. "Well, there are magic shows, all kinds of plays, concerts, and such. Pretty much if you can imagine it as being a diversion that a person could charge admission for, it's probably in Vegas somewhere."
Alexis shudders. "No magic shows. It's embarrassing."
Buffy looks at her curiously. "Why is that?
Alex grits her teeth for a moment in annoyance. "Because I know it's all sleight of hand. I know they aren't doing any real magic, or at least the chances that they are is ridiculously tiny. But I watch them on TV sometimes anyway just to see if I can figure out how they are doing it and so far I haven't figured out one. Not one stupid trick. I can do real magic and make real magic things and these sleight of hand twits make me look as dumb as the next rube. It's beyond annoying."
The rest of the truck giggles at her, and while she isn't happy that they laugh at her pain she can also admit that her pain is kinda silly. By the time they make it to the city all's forgiven.
That evening is spent cleaning out the truck and restocking it at the supercenter they end up parking at for the night.
The next morning when Willow wakes up, she's alone. While it's true that the beds are a tad on the small side to accommodate two people, even people halfling sized, it isn't impossible by any stretch. Add in how much they enjoy cuddling in the night and it was almost a bonus that the bed rails kept them close. But this is legitimately the first time in the whole trip that she had woken up and Alex wasn't there. Sometimes she'd gone back to sleep, or gotten the second shower. They didn't always go downstairs at the same time. But she was used to waking up with her, and she finds that not doing so is something she doesn't like very much.
With a slight frown, she takes a moment in the bathroom and puts one of the tiny brushes that Alexis made to her hair. She'll still need to shower and such, but a clip to keep the hair out of her eyes is never a bad plan. Walking down the stairs into the living space, she sees that there is a cereal bowl in the sink, along with a spoon. But aside from that, there's no evidence that anybody has been up yet. Curious about what Alex might be up to, she takes the time to search the truck.
She can't find her anywhere. Putting in the earpiece, she tries to get in touch with her that way and gets nothing. Scared now, she runs back up the stairs and beats on Buffy's door. The answering call is perhaps a little surly.
"Is anybody dying? I'm trying to sleep."
Willow, in full-on panic mode at this point, throws open the door and yells. "Alex is missing! You have to help me find her!"
From somewhere outside the truck and toward the front the answering call of: "No I'm not, I know right where I am!" Is heard in quick response, and Willow offers a stammered apology to Buffy's raised eyebrow and hands that are making 'shoo-shoo' motions.
Putting on her slippers, Willow walks out the back and down the steel steps. As soon as she has made it around the end of the Truck, she can see her. She is full size for a change and standing on a stool even. Which looks a little funky, because she is also crouched slightly as she works. She has an easel, a paintbrush, and appears to be adding something to the door. Willow takes the time to walk away from the truck on her approach so she can get a good look at what is being put there. As soon as she sees it, she starts giggling, and she just can't stop.
There is a dark red shield, shaped though not colored like one of their Marshal's badges. But rather than any words or letters, there is a beautifully rendered, almost photograph quality painting of a bright white plate with two pancakes on it. A pat of butter melting deliciously amidst the tantalizing sweetness of maple syrup. And over the plate, in a manner reminiscent of crossed swords or bones, is a butter knife and a fork.
Eventually, the laughter and random exclamations of glee that Willow is using get the attention of Kendra and Buffy, who both come out to see the new dual masterpieces. Apparently, the passenger side door was already done. Having decided that after seeing this, pancakes were definitely on the menu for this morning, the crew start getting ready for their day. While it was something of a pain in the ass, for security reasons they had taken the time before they left for breakfast to go into the supercenter they were parked next to. They disappeared into the bathrooms for a moment, and come out looking similar to what they did when they were in San Francisco. More in an effort to avoid the press than anything else.
A half-hour later at a restaurant that features eight different ways to order biscuits and gravy, the four of them sit and order. The waitress takes it down after giving them a final curious and amused look. To say that it is unusual to have four attractive eighteen-year-old women come in dressed in what must be designer clothing and ready for a day of putting Sin City through her paces start that day by going into a truck stop grease pit like this one is putting it lightly.
"Okay, well, I am here pretty much for shopping during the day and shows in the evening. After Yellowstone though, I'd be lying if I said I would be happy with us splitting up. So if we're staying together, is there anything special that anybody wanted to do while we're here?"
Kendra shrugs. "I have never been to this city, but in my travels, I have been to many places where gambling was legal and encouraged. It tends to redistribute used goods effectively. I would like to see some second-hand and pawn shops while we are here. They are sometimes more entertaining to shop at than the normal stores."
Willow shrugs. "I already checked. If we'd gotten here three days ago there was a big electronics and computers convention at one of the hotels, I'd have loved to crash that. But there won't be anything else I'm particularly interested in for at least another month."
Alexis tries to look invisible as the three all look at her expectantly. Eventually, Willow gives her a nudge. "What is it?" She giggles. "A burlesque show?"
Alex grimaces. "No, nothing like that. It's just that I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be interested. And even if you were interested, I don't think you are cool with my wanting to research for stuff to build later detouring the trip all the time."
Buffy tries desperately to hide her annoyance, but can't quite manage it. "Not another zoo, is it?"
Alex stammers out a negative. "N-no, not a zoo. There's a monster truck rally in four days. There's the big trucks, which are cool I'll admit, but mostly I was hoping to get some time to talk to the people that build the cars that can skip across the top of a bog. I'm mostly looking into ways to make life a little easier on whoever we have to send mobile to deal with the crazy, and a car that can deal with the everglades seems cool. Just as an example. They also usually have a couple of showpieces that are just crazy, but not really part of the competition. Like a Cadillac with crab arms or something, who knows. I thought it would be fun."
Buffy just stares at her. She forgets, sometimes, that Xander is still in there. She didn't lose him, not really. So it's easier to just not think about it. To not miss him. But he's there, and every once in a while it peeks through. She offers a smile. "I think I can do the truck rally with ya. And you don't even have to pretend it's for research."
"But it is!" She protests vehemently. The looks and giggles she is getting from all three, as Kendra has been read in on this bit of her secret some time ago, are rather infuriating for her. Fortunately for all the food arrives just in the nick of time.
Three days, over a hundred stores, and five shows have passed. They have all been to a spa together, which Alexis thought was boring and icky as hell and is already trying to come up with a potion or enchanted item version of it that is quicker so she never has to lay around on a table with hot cloths draped over her while some guy touches her again. They did talk her into one magic show, and she actually enjoyed the big loud jackass and his little mute buddy. Mostly because they made no pretense that their magic was real and were funny as hell rather than trying to be all mysterious about it.
She desperately wanted to show them some actual magic, but Willow talked her out of it. Probably for the best.
By the time they are done Buffy has filled so much space on Willow's hard drive with image files of things she might want Alexis to make later that it is starting to cause the poor hacker problems enough to buy a second laptop just for the image files.
In the three days, Alex's only purchases were a few old guns she found at swap meets that she knew she could modify successfully, having done so before.
In fact, the only problem they had in the three days is the need to move the Truck on the third night when they got back to it. Apparently, a reporter finally found them and left a business card under the windshield wiper. Because of this they had, reluctantly on Buffy's part, decided to leave Vegas after the Monster Truck Rally the next day. As the rally started officially at two in the afternoon and ran for nearly six hours, they were planning to be there by no later than noon so they could find a place to park.
Never an easy task.
As they approach the stadium, Willow points to the designated entrance nearest them. "That's it there."
Flicking on the turn signal, Alex shakes her head again at the ridiculousness that necessitated the current situation. Because there is footage of tiny women connected with the truck, she actually had to make modifications so she could drive the thing as a halfling. It's ridiculous. She still isn't sure how they're even getting away with this. Halfling people are obviously too small to be humans. Even dwarf humans. There's no way. But people buy it, somehow. It's just weird. Giles was right. The sheep will rationalize freaking anything to not have to think about it.
Turning into the lot, the guy working it directing traffic grabs a radio at his belt and yammers into it. After a minute, he seems to get a response that they can't hear clearly. Then he waves them forward.
"Welcome to the show, Ma'am. Follow my friend here and we'll get you squared away."
With that, he points to another young man who is astride a bicycle with a yellow flag bobbing along cheerfully above him. Buffy sounds a little dubious from the back.
"I'll admit I haven't been to an event like this for a really long time, but is this normal?"
Alex is white-knuckling the wheel at this point.
"How the heck should I know, Buff? Do you really think my dad was the type to trot me off to this kind of thing on the weekend? I got to go to one of these before in my life. I was eight, Jesse's parents took us."
It becomes obvious that something has gone decidedly off-kilter when they follow the cyclist to a cordoned-off section of the parking lot and when they open the twenty-foot cyclone fencing with the privacy strips in it they can see it leads to where the competitors are parked.
Alex doesn't hit the pedal. The vehicle, she does not move. Instead, Alex rolls the window down again. A much harder task than you might think given her current size.
"Hey, no, we aren't part of the event. We have tickets. We just wanted to see the show."
The kid on the bicycle looks a little confused and gets on his own radio. After a minute he looks back at Alex. "The guy running the event wanted to know if you would like to get a backstage pass, I guess. Your truck has been on the news a lot. Anyway, I was told to take you to the head honcho's trailer. You willing to hash it out with him? At the very least he'll comp your tickets and get you VIP seating. That's the way this kind of thing goes."
Alex looks around the cab. She gets shrugs and tentative nods. They all know that the publicity is bad, and it is going to cause problems in the long run. But at the same time...
They did it. They saved people. It wasn't supernatural that nobody can know about. It was just them and a fire, and they did it. Conveniently ignoring in their minds that only one of them is actually that small and none of them are legally this small... It still feels really good to be recognized. Alexis turns back to the guy.
"Sure, we can talk to him. Say, have you seen these newscasts he's talking about?"
The kid nods. "Yeah, some of 'em. That fire up in Yellowstone. You ladies are pretty famous. Saved something like a hundred and seventy people that everybody thought was done for."
The girls all smile. They hadn't really had time to do a headcount, they just knew it was a lot. Alexis nods. "Yeah. Did they just get shots of the truck or did they get us too?"
The kid nods. "They got you, but you were covered at the time. All three of the ones I saw anyway. It was pretty awesome. No faces though, at least none that I could see."
Alexis smiles. "Thanks! Lead us to the trailer, would you?"
As soon as she has the window rolled up, Alexis starts talking.
"This might be better than I thought people. If they have no shots of our faces, we just have to keep it that way. Poole already told me that the license plate on the truck leads to the same legal dead end that the Initiative vehicles do. It's something Henry did as an afterthought right after I got it licensed, he's apparently done the same thing to all of our vehicles. More of that stuff he knows that he wants to teach us I guess. And in the shop right now I have a device getting built that will change the look of this thing to whatever we want. It'll be getting done before we hit Los Angeles. Once it is and I get it installed, when we want to go home we can just get out of sight for a while, become a box truck, and go home. No biggie."
Willow smirks. "So you're saying we meet this guy in full armor, helmets on?"
Alexis nods. "Absofuckinglutely."
About this time the bicycle stops in front of a trailer, waves them over, and heads back out to the gate. The girls take the moment to armor up, and then the four doors open and they hop out.
Everybody in the yard is staring at them. Drivers, grease monkeys, motorheads, they're all just staring at this vehicle and these four... children? That have gotten out.
The quiet at such an event is highly disturbing.
The four of them hit the trailer steps at a bounce and Buffy is the one to knock on the door.
Inside they can hear some conversation that stops dead, and then the door is opened by a middle-aged man in most of a suit, though it appears the jacket itself has been foregone in the heat. He looks down in awe and breathes "Oh my God it's real." so softly that even Buffy and Kendra have a hard time making it out. He immediately backs up.
"Sorry. Please come in. Name's Jerry. Normally I'd be a lot more cagey about this but right now I am less than an hour from final roll call and I can't afford to be. So I'll be blunt. You girls and that truck might be a flash in the pan, but you are bright right now and you're here right now. I'll comp your tickets and pay you each ten grand if you park that big beautiful attention-getter off to the side during the rally and hose down any car we put in front of ya. The crowd will eat it up and the sponsors will appreciate that all of their damn ads aren't covered in the muck. I do need an answer quick though because there isn't time to legally put you in the pit proper. I'm going to have to cheat and put up a concrete barricade. Six-foot blocks. Makes you technically spectators if anyone asks. Just obnoxious ones with a hose."
He grins when he finishes.
Alexis is about to ask if they can have time to discuss it when Buffy chirps out: "Sure. Sounds good."
She then looks around. Noting the silence, she baps Alex on the back of the head and whispers into the earpiece. "You're the one that wanted to be here, and I'm sure the press already saw us drive on the lot. We may as well do this, at least it lets us see the whole thing while we're in armor."
After seeing the nods going around, Alex turns to the man and sticks out her tiny hand. "I guess we're in. Where do you want me to park the 'Short Stack' at?"
The man waves her off and points out the door. "I still need to work that out. Go get in your truck and I'll have somebody lead you there in a few minutes."
Thirty minutes later, the four of them are behind a short wall of concrete blocks on one end of the arena lounging on hastily put together (and yet still sturdy, practical, and beautiful) lawn chairs. They've set up the hose and this time they just ratcheted the nozzle itself to a little swivel mount so whoever is using it doesn't need to strap themselves to the roof somehow. By the time that the show starts at two, everybody knows they're here. All the spectators. All the performers and competitors. The announcer does a little three-minute spiel about who they are and the big projection televisions that they use for instant replays show little clips of the news footage. Just enough for a taste, not enough to get them in trouble.
They take turns spraying down the cars. A lot of them don't have glass, so the drivers are getting soaked in the deal, but the crowd loves it. The cars can handle it, and people that are afraid of getting wet with their clothes on don't work these kinds of jobs. By the end, the girls are all tired and feeling pretty good about the plugs they had stuffed into their ears in preparation for the event. Some of those trucks are crazy loud. But as soon as the man hands them their cash, they are on the road again. When they hit the city limits, it's Buffy that laughs. When they all look at her, she just smiles.
"Santa Carla? Pilot and some kind of demon tunnel thing we need to figure out. San Francisco? Bad mental hospital doing bad things. Seattle? Fish demons used by meth dealers. Yellowstone? A damn forest fire. But Sin City? Even with us participating in a monster truck show? Nothing. And we made forty grand. That just struck me funny."
As if in response to these claims, Willow's computer makes a cheerful little chirping sound. She opens it and checks the message in her email. She pales so badly and fast that they can see it even in the dashboard lights.
Alexis glances her way quickly, not wanting to take her eyes off the road.
"What's wrong?"
Willow slowly closes her laptop. "That was from Jenny. The rally was apparently a nationally televised event. Everybody at home saw it."
Buffy pretty much sums up their opinion of that.
"Well, Fuck."
>>>>
>> Author's Note.
In case you are completely clueless about stage magicians active in the world today, the "Big Loud Jackass" is Penn Jillette and his "Little Mute Buddy" is Raymond Teller. Their show is fantastic, their humor is hysterical, and while I don't always agree with everything they say politically (Mostly Penn, as Teller isn't nearly as vocal. Which could be funny, if I was annoying about it.) I will say that they are willing to put their asses on the line to say what they believe and appear to be generally good, decent human beings. In short, they're awesome and deserve your money. You should treat yourself if they're in town.
Sin City.
>>>>
>> The Truck. July 27. 8:40 PM.
After four days solid of wrestling water hoses, clearing roads, and when possible dragging people's vehicles out of the path of the fire using a slapped-together tow assembly that Alex devised on day two, it is fair to say that the occupants of the now legendary 'Engine: Short Stack' were ready for a vacation from their vacation.
They had just about decided to stick it out and spend the rest of their vacation helping here, but they ran into a problem. The more successful they were, the more under control things became, the more time the legitimate fire crews had to speculate as to who they were and where they got their gear. At first, it was flattering. Then it became amusing, these rough and tumble men tripping over their own tongues trying to ask miniature women about their lives and where they bought their toys.
But on day three the press showed up in their numbers, apparently sensing a human interest story after the evacuated campers from the first day had been interviewed and those interviews had leaked. It took the combined efforts of both of Gerard's people to give them a window of opportunity to get out of there without the vultures knowing about it.
Having had an opportunity to truly get clean for the first time in days, Buffy and Kendra are all smiles in the back seat as the truck rolls along the freeway, with Alex driving and Willow futzing around on her laptop in the passenger seat. A green sign off to the right makes the proclamation they have been waiting for. Alexis calls it out for anybody that missed it.
"Vegas coming up in another forty miles. Unless anybody really hates the idea, I say we lot camp at a grocery store for the night, get some shopping done, and relax. We can hit the strip tomorrow. Does anybody have anything specific they wanted to do?" She glances back at Buffy. "Aside from shopping?"
Buffy offers a huge grin from the backseat. Kendra however looks mostly lost. "What all is there? All I know of is drinking and gambling. I am not particularly interested in either."
Willow starts reading aloud some of the things she is perusing on the web via Jenny's mystical modem hookup she installed. "Well, there are magic shows, all kinds of plays, concerts, and such. Pretty much if you can imagine it as being a diversion that a person could charge admission for, it's probably in Vegas somewhere."
Alexis shudders. "No magic shows. It's embarrassing."
Buffy looks at her curiously. "Why is that?
Alex grits her teeth for a moment in annoyance. "Because I know it's all sleight of hand. I know they aren't doing any real magic, or at least the chances that they are is ridiculously tiny. But I watch them on TV sometimes anyway just to see if I can figure out how they are doing it and so far I haven't figured out one. Not one stupid trick. I can do real magic and make real magic things and these sleight of hand twits make me look as dumb as the next rube. It's beyond annoying."
The rest of the truck giggles at her, and while she isn't happy that they laugh at her pain she can also admit that her pain is kinda silly. By the time they make it to the city all's forgiven.
That evening is spent cleaning out the truck and restocking it at the supercenter they end up parking at for the night.
The next morning when Willow wakes up, she's alone. While it's true that the beds are a tad on the small side to accommodate two people, even people halfling sized, it isn't impossible by any stretch. Add in how much they enjoy cuddling in the night and it was almost a bonus that the bed rails kept them close. But this is legitimately the first time in the whole trip that she had woken up and Alex wasn't there. Sometimes she'd gone back to sleep, or gotten the second shower. They didn't always go downstairs at the same time. But she was used to waking up with her, and she finds that not doing so is something she doesn't like very much.
With a slight frown, she takes a moment in the bathroom and puts one of the tiny brushes that Alexis made to her hair. She'll still need to shower and such, but a clip to keep the hair out of her eyes is never a bad plan. Walking down the stairs into the living space, she sees that there is a cereal bowl in the sink, along with a spoon. But aside from that, there's no evidence that anybody has been up yet. Curious about what Alex might be up to, she takes the time to search the truck.
She can't find her anywhere. Putting in the earpiece, she tries to get in touch with her that way and gets nothing. Scared now, she runs back up the stairs and beats on Buffy's door. The answering call is perhaps a little surly.
"Is anybody dying? I'm trying to sleep."
Willow, in full-on panic mode at this point, throws open the door and yells. "Alex is missing! You have to help me find her!"
From somewhere outside the truck and toward the front the answering call of: "No I'm not, I know right where I am!" Is heard in quick response, and Willow offers a stammered apology to Buffy's raised eyebrow and hands that are making 'shoo-shoo' motions.
Putting on her slippers, Willow walks out the back and down the steel steps. As soon as she has made it around the end of the Truck, she can see her. She is full size for a change and standing on a stool even. Which looks a little funky, because she is also crouched slightly as she works. She has an easel, a paintbrush, and appears to be adding something to the door. Willow takes the time to walk away from the truck on her approach so she can get a good look at what is being put there. As soon as she sees it, she starts giggling, and she just can't stop.
There is a dark red shield, shaped though not colored like one of their Marshal's badges. But rather than any words or letters, there is a beautifully rendered, almost photograph quality painting of a bright white plate with two pancakes on it. A pat of butter melting deliciously amidst the tantalizing sweetness of maple syrup. And over the plate, in a manner reminiscent of crossed swords or bones, is a butter knife and a fork.
Eventually, the laughter and random exclamations of glee that Willow is using get the attention of Kendra and Buffy, who both come out to see the new dual masterpieces. Apparently, the passenger side door was already done. Having decided that after seeing this, pancakes were definitely on the menu for this morning, the crew start getting ready for their day. While it was something of a pain in the ass, for security reasons they had taken the time before they left for breakfast to go into the supercenter they were parked next to. They disappeared into the bathrooms for a moment, and come out looking similar to what they did when they were in San Francisco. More in an effort to avoid the press than anything else.
A half-hour later at a restaurant that features eight different ways to order biscuits and gravy, the four of them sit and order. The waitress takes it down after giving them a final curious and amused look. To say that it is unusual to have four attractive eighteen-year-old women come in dressed in what must be designer clothing and ready for a day of putting Sin City through her paces start that day by going into a truck stop grease pit like this one is putting it lightly.
"Okay, well, I am here pretty much for shopping during the day and shows in the evening. After Yellowstone though, I'd be lying if I said I would be happy with us splitting up. So if we're staying together, is there anything special that anybody wanted to do while we're here?"
Kendra shrugs. "I have never been to this city, but in my travels, I have been to many places where gambling was legal and encouraged. It tends to redistribute used goods effectively. I would like to see some second-hand and pawn shops while we are here. They are sometimes more entertaining to shop at than the normal stores."
Willow shrugs. "I already checked. If we'd gotten here three days ago there was a big electronics and computers convention at one of the hotels, I'd have loved to crash that. But there won't be anything else I'm particularly interested in for at least another month."
Alexis tries to look invisible as the three all look at her expectantly. Eventually, Willow gives her a nudge. "What is it?" She giggles. "A burlesque show?"
Alex grimaces. "No, nothing like that. It's just that I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be interested. And even if you were interested, I don't think you are cool with my wanting to research for stuff to build later detouring the trip all the time."
Buffy tries desperately to hide her annoyance, but can't quite manage it. "Not another zoo, is it?"
Alex stammers out a negative. "N-no, not a zoo. There's a monster truck rally in four days. There's the big trucks, which are cool I'll admit, but mostly I was hoping to get some time to talk to the people that build the cars that can skip across the top of a bog. I'm mostly looking into ways to make life a little easier on whoever we have to send mobile to deal with the crazy, and a car that can deal with the everglades seems cool. Just as an example. They also usually have a couple of showpieces that are just crazy, but not really part of the competition. Like a Cadillac with crab arms or something, who knows. I thought it would be fun."
Buffy just stares at her. She forgets, sometimes, that Xander is still in there. She didn't lose him, not really. So it's easier to just not think about it. To not miss him. But he's there, and every once in a while it peeks through. She offers a smile. "I think I can do the truck rally with ya. And you don't even have to pretend it's for research."
"But it is!" She protests vehemently. The looks and giggles she is getting from all three, as Kendra has been read in on this bit of her secret some time ago, are rather infuriating for her. Fortunately for all the food arrives just in the nick of time.
Three days, over a hundred stores, and five shows have passed. They have all been to a spa together, which Alexis thought was boring and icky as hell and is already trying to come up with a potion or enchanted item version of it that is quicker so she never has to lay around on a table with hot cloths draped over her while some guy touches her again. They did talk her into one magic show, and she actually enjoyed the big loud jackass and his little mute buddy. Mostly because they made no pretense that their magic was real and were funny as hell rather than trying to be all mysterious about it.
She desperately wanted to show them some actual magic, but Willow talked her out of it. Probably for the best.
By the time they are done Buffy has filled so much space on Willow's hard drive with image files of things she might want Alexis to make later that it is starting to cause the poor hacker problems enough to buy a second laptop just for the image files.
In the three days, Alex's only purchases were a few old guns she found at swap meets that she knew she could modify successfully, having done so before.
In fact, the only problem they had in the three days is the need to move the Truck on the third night when they got back to it. Apparently, a reporter finally found them and left a business card under the windshield wiper. Because of this they had, reluctantly on Buffy's part, decided to leave Vegas after the Monster Truck Rally the next day. As the rally started officially at two in the afternoon and ran for nearly six hours, they were planning to be there by no later than noon so they could find a place to park.
Never an easy task.
As they approach the stadium, Willow points to the designated entrance nearest them. "That's it there."
Flicking on the turn signal, Alex shakes her head again at the ridiculousness that necessitated the current situation. Because there is footage of tiny women connected with the truck, she actually had to make modifications so she could drive the thing as a halfling. It's ridiculous. She still isn't sure how they're even getting away with this. Halfling people are obviously too small to be humans. Even dwarf humans. There's no way. But people buy it, somehow. It's just weird. Giles was right. The sheep will rationalize freaking anything to not have to think about it.
Turning into the lot, the guy working it directing traffic grabs a radio at his belt and yammers into it. After a minute, he seems to get a response that they can't hear clearly. Then he waves them forward.
"Welcome to the show, Ma'am. Follow my friend here and we'll get you squared away."
With that, he points to another young man who is astride a bicycle with a yellow flag bobbing along cheerfully above him. Buffy sounds a little dubious from the back.
"I'll admit I haven't been to an event like this for a really long time, but is this normal?"
Alex is white-knuckling the wheel at this point.
"How the heck should I know, Buff? Do you really think my dad was the type to trot me off to this kind of thing on the weekend? I got to go to one of these before in my life. I was eight, Jesse's parents took us."
It becomes obvious that something has gone decidedly off-kilter when they follow the cyclist to a cordoned-off section of the parking lot and when they open the twenty-foot cyclone fencing with the privacy strips in it they can see it leads to where the competitors are parked.
Alex doesn't hit the pedal. The vehicle, she does not move. Instead, Alex rolls the window down again. A much harder task than you might think given her current size.
"Hey, no, we aren't part of the event. We have tickets. We just wanted to see the show."
The kid on the bicycle looks a little confused and gets on his own radio. After a minute he looks back at Alex. "The guy running the event wanted to know if you would like to get a backstage pass, I guess. Your truck has been on the news a lot. Anyway, I was told to take you to the head honcho's trailer. You willing to hash it out with him? At the very least he'll comp your tickets and get you VIP seating. That's the way this kind of thing goes."
Alex looks around the cab. She gets shrugs and tentative nods. They all know that the publicity is bad, and it is going to cause problems in the long run. But at the same time...
They did it. They saved people. It wasn't supernatural that nobody can know about. It was just them and a fire, and they did it. Conveniently ignoring in their minds that only one of them is actually that small and none of them are legally this small... It still feels really good to be recognized. Alexis turns back to the guy.
"Sure, we can talk to him. Say, have you seen these newscasts he's talking about?"
The kid nods. "Yeah, some of 'em. That fire up in Yellowstone. You ladies are pretty famous. Saved something like a hundred and seventy people that everybody thought was done for."
The girls all smile. They hadn't really had time to do a headcount, they just knew it was a lot. Alexis nods. "Yeah. Did they just get shots of the truck or did they get us too?"
The kid nods. "They got you, but you were covered at the time. All three of the ones I saw anyway. It was pretty awesome. No faces though, at least none that I could see."
Alexis smiles. "Thanks! Lead us to the trailer, would you?"
As soon as she has the window rolled up, Alexis starts talking.
"This might be better than I thought people. If they have no shots of our faces, we just have to keep it that way. Poole already told me that the license plate on the truck leads to the same legal dead end that the Initiative vehicles do. It's something Henry did as an afterthought right after I got it licensed, he's apparently done the same thing to all of our vehicles. More of that stuff he knows that he wants to teach us I guess. And in the shop right now I have a device getting built that will change the look of this thing to whatever we want. It'll be getting done before we hit Los Angeles. Once it is and I get it installed, when we want to go home we can just get out of sight for a while, become a box truck, and go home. No biggie."
Willow smirks. "So you're saying we meet this guy in full armor, helmets on?"
Alexis nods. "Absofuckinglutely."
About this time the bicycle stops in front of a trailer, waves them over, and heads back out to the gate. The girls take the moment to armor up, and then the four doors open and they hop out.
Everybody in the yard is staring at them. Drivers, grease monkeys, motorheads, they're all just staring at this vehicle and these four... children? That have gotten out.
The quiet at such an event is highly disturbing.
The four of them hit the trailer steps at a bounce and Buffy is the one to knock on the door.
Inside they can hear some conversation that stops dead, and then the door is opened by a middle-aged man in most of a suit, though it appears the jacket itself has been foregone in the heat. He looks down in awe and breathes "Oh my God it's real." so softly that even Buffy and Kendra have a hard time making it out. He immediately backs up.
"Sorry. Please come in. Name's Jerry. Normally I'd be a lot more cagey about this but right now I am less than an hour from final roll call and I can't afford to be. So I'll be blunt. You girls and that truck might be a flash in the pan, but you are bright right now and you're here right now. I'll comp your tickets and pay you each ten grand if you park that big beautiful attention-getter off to the side during the rally and hose down any car we put in front of ya. The crowd will eat it up and the sponsors will appreciate that all of their damn ads aren't covered in the muck. I do need an answer quick though because there isn't time to legally put you in the pit proper. I'm going to have to cheat and put up a concrete barricade. Six-foot blocks. Makes you technically spectators if anyone asks. Just obnoxious ones with a hose."
He grins when he finishes.
Alexis is about to ask if they can have time to discuss it when Buffy chirps out: "Sure. Sounds good."
She then looks around. Noting the silence, she baps Alex on the back of the head and whispers into the earpiece. "You're the one that wanted to be here, and I'm sure the press already saw us drive on the lot. We may as well do this, at least it lets us see the whole thing while we're in armor."
After seeing the nods going around, Alex turns to the man and sticks out her tiny hand. "I guess we're in. Where do you want me to park the 'Short Stack' at?"
The man waves her off and points out the door. "I still need to work that out. Go get in your truck and I'll have somebody lead you there in a few minutes."
Thirty minutes later, the four of them are behind a short wall of concrete blocks on one end of the arena lounging on hastily put together (and yet still sturdy, practical, and beautiful) lawn chairs. They've set up the hose and this time they just ratcheted the nozzle itself to a little swivel mount so whoever is using it doesn't need to strap themselves to the roof somehow. By the time that the show starts at two, everybody knows they're here. All the spectators. All the performers and competitors. The announcer does a little three-minute spiel about who they are and the big projection televisions that they use for instant replays show little clips of the news footage. Just enough for a taste, not enough to get them in trouble.
They take turns spraying down the cars. A lot of them don't have glass, so the drivers are getting soaked in the deal, but the crowd loves it. The cars can handle it, and people that are afraid of getting wet with their clothes on don't work these kinds of jobs. By the end, the girls are all tired and feeling pretty good about the plugs they had stuffed into their ears in preparation for the event. Some of those trucks are crazy loud. But as soon as the man hands them their cash, they are on the road again. When they hit the city limits, it's Buffy that laughs. When they all look at her, she just smiles.
"Santa Carla? Pilot and some kind of demon tunnel thing we need to figure out. San Francisco? Bad mental hospital doing bad things. Seattle? Fish demons used by meth dealers. Yellowstone? A damn forest fire. But Sin City? Even with us participating in a monster truck show? Nothing. And we made forty grand. That just struck me funny."
As if in response to these claims, Willow's computer makes a cheerful little chirping sound. She opens it and checks the message in her email. She pales so badly and fast that they can see it even in the dashboard lights.
Alexis glances her way quickly, not wanting to take her eyes off the road.
"What's wrong?"
Willow slowly closes her laptop. "That was from Jenny. The rally was apparently a nationally televised event. Everybody at home saw it."
Buffy pretty much sums up their opinion of that.
"Well, Fuck."
>>>>
>> Author's Note.
In case you are completely clueless about stage magicians active in the world today, the "Big Loud Jackass" is Penn Jillette and his "Little Mute Buddy" is Raymond Teller. Their show is fantastic, their humor is hysterical, and while I don't always agree with everything they say politically (Mostly Penn, as Teller isn't nearly as vocal. Which could be funny, if I was annoying about it.) I will say that they are willing to put their asses on the line to say what they believe and appear to be generally good, decent human beings. In short, they're awesome and deserve your money. You should treat yourself if they're in town.
One-Stop Chop.
Chapter 92
One-Stop Chop.
>>>>
By the time they reach Los Angeles, the unit for the Truck is done and installed. They had even tested it once, turning the beast into a lookalike of one of the larger moving trucks that happened to be about the same size. But for now, they are still on vacation. And while they know there will be a price to pay when they get home, their fifteen minutes of fame is a little too fun to just throw away quite yet.
The first few days are a lot of fun as they poke around the upscale shopping centers and point excitedly at where the movie stars live.
And are pointed at excitedly by a few movie stars, though they don't notice that.
And as she promised, Willow is able to take them to the public displays of two dozen pieces of art that bear the A.H. Maker's mark, and while Alex can admit that it is a little vain to take such pleasure in seeing her efforts on the walls of such expensive and impressive locations it does still feel pretty damn good.
As if the number is cursed, it is day four that things go wrong again. Perhaps more accurately, it's night four.
"Wait, no! This is the wrong exit!" Willow cries out suddenly as the screen updates.
Alexis looks to her left and then shrugs. "Sorry. I can't get back now, we'll have to find the freeway entrance. What time is it again? Freaking tired over here."
Kendra's voice sounds concerned. "It is after midnight, and you were awake before I was at seven this morning. Are you sure you are okay to be driving?"
Alex shakes her head as if to clear it, and sighs. "Honestly, probably not. I don't think I am going to fall asleep at the wheel or anything, but this is a lot of metal to be controlling to not be at a hundred percent when you're doing it. Is there a good-sized lot nearby we can crash in for eight hours?"
Willow starts clicking keys. "Just a minute. Umm... Yes. There's a grocery store a few blocks ahead and on the left. There's no pictures or anything, but it takes up the whole block so some of that has to be parking."
As they head in that direction, they are noticing a few things about the area of the city they are in. It looks, well, dirty. For lack of a better word. There is garbage and graffiti everywhere, and even this late at night there are people on the sidewalks. Some moving around. Others obviously sleeping.
To the Sunnydaler's, the idea of being outside this late is almost suicidal, let alone sleeping. Arriving at the grocery store they see that it is closed for the evening and the doors chained shut. But the lot is open and they park without any problems. They even manage to get a few hours of sleep. It's three-thirty by the clock in their room when the sound of a few gunshots and a scream from outside wakes them up. Alex and Willow make a mad scramble to get up and armored only to find that by the time they have gotten out of their room, Buffy and Kendra are already exiting the rear of the vehicle and running down the source of the commotion. Alex takes a moment to let out Skite and then closes the roof hatch, getting into the driver's seat in the event they end up having to leave quickly. Willow gets herself set up in the living space and starts checking the police bands since she doesn't have any shortcuts into the emergency phone services here. A few minutes later, Buffy's voice comes over the earpieces. She's whispering.
"Slayer here. Guys? We have a problem. There are like eight vampires in this store and they're playing with their dinner. She's already pretty hurt. We don't have a lot of time."
Sending the mental command to DW and the now two Iron Defenders, Alex sprints to the back door to let them out. Then rather than going back to the driver's seat, she meets with Willow in the living space. Laying back on a couch she prepares to direct the minions.
She is able to find the problem fairly easily. It's back by the frozen food section in a fairly open area. Eight vampires surround one young woman. Blond, and limping badly. Leaving a trail of blood as she stumbles. Her clothes have seen better days, having obviously been shredded pretty severely by the demons during their playtime. Alexis waits until Buffy gives the order.
"Q here. I am on standby. Ready when you are."
"Smalls here. Good to go."
"Red here. Still nothing on the police band. No response to the shots even. It's almost like Sunnydale."
Buffy is considering what to do exactly when the decision is made for her. One of the larger vamps has grabbed the woman by the hair and smashed her face with his palm, all one move. Very fast. The woman is dropped to the floor like she'd been tasered only with difficulty breathing through the obvious damage to her nose and face as she lays there unconscious.
"Now!" Buffy all but screams into the headset.
Then all the things happen, very quickly.
Buffy launches herself, still in her smaller size, at the vampire that seems to be in charge. Having never fought like this before, her aim and power are a little off. But if you had asked him, he probably wouldn't have known. Instead of taking off the arm that was reaching down to grab the collar of his latest victim, she instead removes his leg at the thigh. Her speed, strength, and rage make up for the lack of mass as her gladius crunches through bone as if it was butter.
Kendra, much more familiar with fighting at this stature, leaps onto the back of one and uses a sword that is now punched into his body at a downward angle through his collarbone as an anchor. While at the same time she whips the second sword out and cleanly snips the head off of a second. The inhuman scream of her new makeshift pony makes her smile grimly as she prepares her next move.
The two Iron Defenders swiftly make their way to the body of the woman and take up their positions on either side of her, nipping at any vampire that gets too close. While DW launches a glass ball full of alchemist's fire at a grouping of vampires, hitting three directly in the spray and managing to catch two more on fire when they try to pat out the flames consuming their fellow vampires and catch themselves.
Within fifteen seconds, every vampire still capable is trying to run away. In less than thirty seconds, they are no longer capable.
"Q here. Give her a potion and bring her on board. The alchemist's fire will burn out soon and steel, tile, and glass aren't likely to cause problems. But we'd still better get out of here."
>> Twenty minutes of white-knuckled driving later, at another parking lot in the same section of town.
After setting the parking brake and heading to the back, Alexis is met by a tight-faced Willow who tosses her a fold of leather that is eerily familiar to the one that they were given by Cosmo and Poole just a couple of weeks ago. Flipping it open, she takes a look.
"Huh. Kate Lockley. LAPD." She looks up at Buffy and Kendra who have joined them in the living space. "We just can't catch a break, can we?"
Buffy slides the visor up on her helm and sighs. "Yeah, the cop is going to be a problem. But mostly I'm just mad at myself. I knew there were vampires here. I mean, I had to burn down the school gym to get rid of a bunch of them my freshman year for crying out loud! But I let Merrick, and then Giles convince me that they were only here because they were after me. And I bought it. Even when I knew that Kendra, and then Faith, were fighting stuff like vampires everywhere else. And I guess I can see their point, the Hellmouth needs a defender. But this was a straight-up vamp hunting party looking for humans to munch on. The odds we would run into it if there was only one in LA have to be just tiny. And this close to the Hellmouth, it's a given a place with this many people is going to have other demons poking around."
She gets a very tired look on her face and slumps against the wall. Alexis gives her a nod.
"Basically, you're saying that until we have locked down how bad the boogley woogley issue is here, we need to at least maintain a presence of some sort? Maybe weekend patrols or something until we get a feel for things? I mean, on a percentage of deaths basis I have a hard time believing that this place is as bad as Sunnydale. But there are a lot more people here to die, right? Wills? How tough would it be for you and Jenny to dig through the reports and find out?"
Then she stops and gets a concerned look on her face.
"And before we get any further here, how is the cop? She looked pretty rough when we brought her on board."
Kendra calls over from where she is keeping an eye on her from the doorway to the back end.
"We were able to get her to choke down a potion in her sleep, so she is breathing okay and no longer bleeding. Her face is still fairly messed up though, that vampire bashed her pretty well. You may want to fix it before she wakes up if you want to do so without having to answer too many questions."
As Alex makes her way to the armory to get the scroll she needs, the correct schema having not yet been made, Willow answers the previous question.
"We technically could, maybe. But because there are so many coroners and police computers that we would have to dig around in constantly, the odds of getting caught would go way up. Honestly, this might be one to take to Henry. I imagine he could just request the information through normal channels. Save us the trouble."
Alex nods absently as she makes her way back with the scroll she needed and her bag of wands on her hip. "Yeah, I can see that. We'll have to call him anyway. If these vamps are attacking police officers then they must be targeting them, I mean, there were so many people sleeping outside why would you go after someone that could fight back?"
Then she walks over to the bed rack that the cop is on and reads from the scroll. As if her flesh were made of clay and being worked over by a master, the regenerate spell washes over her and puts to right all the damage that had been done earlier in the night. Leaving her desperately needing a shower, and with blood-caked hair. But otherwise the very picture of beauty and health.
It also has the unfortunate side effect of awakening her.
Fortunately, she barely has her eyes open for a second before a wave of the wand in Alex's hand puts her back to sleep.
Buffy smirks. "So... The new plan is to take her somewhere?"
Alex nods. "Yeah. Margo is bad enough, we don't need another mistake like that. We'll ship her a 'Vampires, safety, and YOU!' pamphlet or something with no return address in a week or two when I get one written. For now, where's the nearest police station? I can make you and her invisible and you can drop her off in the lobby. She'll appear a few minutes later when the spell wears off and they can take it from there." She frowns. "First though..."
She gets out her cleaning tool. The special one she made for herself that she keeps in her pouch and has Mr. Yuck stickers on it to scare the other people from the household away from it. The one that actually will remove such things as dead skin cells, hair, and blood, and therefore requires a degree of fine control that most don't possess to use. With it, she takes the time to clean the poor woman up.
Bad enough she has the memories of the night. She shouldn't have to explain them all to a roomful of cops unless she wants to.
An hour later, the officer is dropped off and they are back on the highway. In the words of Alexis as she had gone through an alley in LA and changed the Short Stack to the appearance of a generic moving van: "Since home is on the way a stop by there before we hit Santa Carla seems like a damn fine idea."
>>>>
>> The House. August 5, 8:30 AM.
Cordelia walks back into the kitchen from the garage, more than a little hurt. It isn't that somebody was leaving that shocked her. This is the Hellmouth. If she wasn't getting such a sweet deal between working with Alex and the stipend from Henry, plus the cheap college, she'd be leaving too. But why keep it a secret? Why hide it? She puts her hands on her hips and glares at the rest of the house occupants, who are still eating their breakfast.
"So who's moving out?"
She is getting a lot of blank stares in response. Finally, after a few seconds have passed and nobody has answered, Giles clears his throat.
"Perhaps, Cordelia, you could explain what makes you think that someone is leaving?"
She looks at the man incredulously. "There's a giant moving van in the garage, that's what makes me think somebody is moving! I'm not saying people can't leave but I'd like to think that we're close enough not to keep it a secret from each other!"
Giles looks around the room. "None of us appear to be the ones leaving and while they are still abed, I can vouch that neither Faith nor Desia owns enough material goods to justify the style of truck you are speaking of for moving. Perhaps it is some new project of Alexis' that she had delivered for her return?"
Jenny, from where she is sitting next to Giles, gets a sudden mischievous look on her face, and with a snap of her fingers, she retrieves her laptop from the glove of storing she now keeps it in. It doesn't even have to boot up, as the glove keeps it in stasis, it doesn't use electricity. In fact, the only concession she had to make to get the whole system to work right is to use a teensy bit of magic to get the internal clock on the computer to update itself to the date and time on her watch whenever it first comes off the glove. After that, the system works flawlessly. She spends a few moments punching keys, and then she laughs out loud. At the stinging sensation of Cordelia's mighty glare, she softens it to a giggle.
"Sorry, Cordelia. I don't know how she disguised the Truck, but according to the GPS I put in it, they're home. They must have got in late enough to just sleep in there for the rest of the night. I'm taking the day off to put together a little party for this evening I think. Say about sixish?"
The smiles around the table are good enough for her.
>>>>
Author's note.
Much like I don't think I will do another big "Christmas exchange" chapter, I will probably not do another road trip that is quite this extravagant. They'll exist, but I'll plan on maybe two destinations rather than six.
Thanks for reading!
One-Stop Chop.
>>>>
By the time they reach Los Angeles, the unit for the Truck is done and installed. They had even tested it once, turning the beast into a lookalike of one of the larger moving trucks that happened to be about the same size. But for now, they are still on vacation. And while they know there will be a price to pay when they get home, their fifteen minutes of fame is a little too fun to just throw away quite yet.
The first few days are a lot of fun as they poke around the upscale shopping centers and point excitedly at where the movie stars live.
And are pointed at excitedly by a few movie stars, though they don't notice that.
And as she promised, Willow is able to take them to the public displays of two dozen pieces of art that bear the A.H. Maker's mark, and while Alex can admit that it is a little vain to take such pleasure in seeing her efforts on the walls of such expensive and impressive locations it does still feel pretty damn good.
As if the number is cursed, it is day four that things go wrong again. Perhaps more accurately, it's night four.
"Wait, no! This is the wrong exit!" Willow cries out suddenly as the screen updates.
Alexis looks to her left and then shrugs. "Sorry. I can't get back now, we'll have to find the freeway entrance. What time is it again? Freaking tired over here."
Kendra's voice sounds concerned. "It is after midnight, and you were awake before I was at seven this morning. Are you sure you are okay to be driving?"
Alex shakes her head as if to clear it, and sighs. "Honestly, probably not. I don't think I am going to fall asleep at the wheel or anything, but this is a lot of metal to be controlling to not be at a hundred percent when you're doing it. Is there a good-sized lot nearby we can crash in for eight hours?"
Willow starts clicking keys. "Just a minute. Umm... Yes. There's a grocery store a few blocks ahead and on the left. There's no pictures or anything, but it takes up the whole block so some of that has to be parking."
As they head in that direction, they are noticing a few things about the area of the city they are in. It looks, well, dirty. For lack of a better word. There is garbage and graffiti everywhere, and even this late at night there are people on the sidewalks. Some moving around. Others obviously sleeping.
To the Sunnydaler's, the idea of being outside this late is almost suicidal, let alone sleeping. Arriving at the grocery store they see that it is closed for the evening and the doors chained shut. But the lot is open and they park without any problems. They even manage to get a few hours of sleep. It's three-thirty by the clock in their room when the sound of a few gunshots and a scream from outside wakes them up. Alex and Willow make a mad scramble to get up and armored only to find that by the time they have gotten out of their room, Buffy and Kendra are already exiting the rear of the vehicle and running down the source of the commotion. Alex takes a moment to let out Skite and then closes the roof hatch, getting into the driver's seat in the event they end up having to leave quickly. Willow gets herself set up in the living space and starts checking the police bands since she doesn't have any shortcuts into the emergency phone services here. A few minutes later, Buffy's voice comes over the earpieces. She's whispering.
"Slayer here. Guys? We have a problem. There are like eight vampires in this store and they're playing with their dinner. She's already pretty hurt. We don't have a lot of time."
Sending the mental command to DW and the now two Iron Defenders, Alex sprints to the back door to let them out. Then rather than going back to the driver's seat, she meets with Willow in the living space. Laying back on a couch she prepares to direct the minions.
She is able to find the problem fairly easily. It's back by the frozen food section in a fairly open area. Eight vampires surround one young woman. Blond, and limping badly. Leaving a trail of blood as she stumbles. Her clothes have seen better days, having obviously been shredded pretty severely by the demons during their playtime. Alexis waits until Buffy gives the order.
"Q here. I am on standby. Ready when you are."
"Smalls here. Good to go."
"Red here. Still nothing on the police band. No response to the shots even. It's almost like Sunnydale."
Buffy is considering what to do exactly when the decision is made for her. One of the larger vamps has grabbed the woman by the hair and smashed her face with his palm, all one move. Very fast. The woman is dropped to the floor like she'd been tasered only with difficulty breathing through the obvious damage to her nose and face as she lays there unconscious.
"Now!" Buffy all but screams into the headset.
Then all the things happen, very quickly.
Buffy launches herself, still in her smaller size, at the vampire that seems to be in charge. Having never fought like this before, her aim and power are a little off. But if you had asked him, he probably wouldn't have known. Instead of taking off the arm that was reaching down to grab the collar of his latest victim, she instead removes his leg at the thigh. Her speed, strength, and rage make up for the lack of mass as her gladius crunches through bone as if it was butter.
Kendra, much more familiar with fighting at this stature, leaps onto the back of one and uses a sword that is now punched into his body at a downward angle through his collarbone as an anchor. While at the same time she whips the second sword out and cleanly snips the head off of a second. The inhuman scream of her new makeshift pony makes her smile grimly as she prepares her next move.
The two Iron Defenders swiftly make their way to the body of the woman and take up their positions on either side of her, nipping at any vampire that gets too close. While DW launches a glass ball full of alchemist's fire at a grouping of vampires, hitting three directly in the spray and managing to catch two more on fire when they try to pat out the flames consuming their fellow vampires and catch themselves.
Within fifteen seconds, every vampire still capable is trying to run away. In less than thirty seconds, they are no longer capable.
"Q here. Give her a potion and bring her on board. The alchemist's fire will burn out soon and steel, tile, and glass aren't likely to cause problems. But we'd still better get out of here."
>> Twenty minutes of white-knuckled driving later, at another parking lot in the same section of town.
After setting the parking brake and heading to the back, Alexis is met by a tight-faced Willow who tosses her a fold of leather that is eerily familiar to the one that they were given by Cosmo and Poole just a couple of weeks ago. Flipping it open, she takes a look.
"Huh. Kate Lockley. LAPD." She looks up at Buffy and Kendra who have joined them in the living space. "We just can't catch a break, can we?"
Buffy slides the visor up on her helm and sighs. "Yeah, the cop is going to be a problem. But mostly I'm just mad at myself. I knew there were vampires here. I mean, I had to burn down the school gym to get rid of a bunch of them my freshman year for crying out loud! But I let Merrick, and then Giles convince me that they were only here because they were after me. And I bought it. Even when I knew that Kendra, and then Faith, were fighting stuff like vampires everywhere else. And I guess I can see their point, the Hellmouth needs a defender. But this was a straight-up vamp hunting party looking for humans to munch on. The odds we would run into it if there was only one in LA have to be just tiny. And this close to the Hellmouth, it's a given a place with this many people is going to have other demons poking around."
She gets a very tired look on her face and slumps against the wall. Alexis gives her a nod.
"Basically, you're saying that until we have locked down how bad the boogley woogley issue is here, we need to at least maintain a presence of some sort? Maybe weekend patrols or something until we get a feel for things? I mean, on a percentage of deaths basis I have a hard time believing that this place is as bad as Sunnydale. But there are a lot more people here to die, right? Wills? How tough would it be for you and Jenny to dig through the reports and find out?"
Then she stops and gets a concerned look on her face.
"And before we get any further here, how is the cop? She looked pretty rough when we brought her on board."
Kendra calls over from where she is keeping an eye on her from the doorway to the back end.
"We were able to get her to choke down a potion in her sleep, so she is breathing okay and no longer bleeding. Her face is still fairly messed up though, that vampire bashed her pretty well. You may want to fix it before she wakes up if you want to do so without having to answer too many questions."
As Alex makes her way to the armory to get the scroll she needs, the correct schema having not yet been made, Willow answers the previous question.
"We technically could, maybe. But because there are so many coroners and police computers that we would have to dig around in constantly, the odds of getting caught would go way up. Honestly, this might be one to take to Henry. I imagine he could just request the information through normal channels. Save us the trouble."
Alex nods absently as she makes her way back with the scroll she needed and her bag of wands on her hip. "Yeah, I can see that. We'll have to call him anyway. If these vamps are attacking police officers then they must be targeting them, I mean, there were so many people sleeping outside why would you go after someone that could fight back?"
Then she walks over to the bed rack that the cop is on and reads from the scroll. As if her flesh were made of clay and being worked over by a master, the regenerate spell washes over her and puts to right all the damage that had been done earlier in the night. Leaving her desperately needing a shower, and with blood-caked hair. But otherwise the very picture of beauty and health.
It also has the unfortunate side effect of awakening her.
Fortunately, she barely has her eyes open for a second before a wave of the wand in Alex's hand puts her back to sleep.
Buffy smirks. "So... The new plan is to take her somewhere?"
Alex nods. "Yeah. Margo is bad enough, we don't need another mistake like that. We'll ship her a 'Vampires, safety, and YOU!' pamphlet or something with no return address in a week or two when I get one written. For now, where's the nearest police station? I can make you and her invisible and you can drop her off in the lobby. She'll appear a few minutes later when the spell wears off and they can take it from there." She frowns. "First though..."
She gets out her cleaning tool. The special one she made for herself that she keeps in her pouch and has Mr. Yuck stickers on it to scare the other people from the household away from it. The one that actually will remove such things as dead skin cells, hair, and blood, and therefore requires a degree of fine control that most don't possess to use. With it, she takes the time to clean the poor woman up.
Bad enough she has the memories of the night. She shouldn't have to explain them all to a roomful of cops unless she wants to.
An hour later, the officer is dropped off and they are back on the highway. In the words of Alexis as she had gone through an alley in LA and changed the Short Stack to the appearance of a generic moving van: "Since home is on the way a stop by there before we hit Santa Carla seems like a damn fine idea."
>>>>
>> The House. August 5, 8:30 AM.
Cordelia walks back into the kitchen from the garage, more than a little hurt. It isn't that somebody was leaving that shocked her. This is the Hellmouth. If she wasn't getting such a sweet deal between working with Alex and the stipend from Henry, plus the cheap college, she'd be leaving too. But why keep it a secret? Why hide it? She puts her hands on her hips and glares at the rest of the house occupants, who are still eating their breakfast.
"So who's moving out?"
She is getting a lot of blank stares in response. Finally, after a few seconds have passed and nobody has answered, Giles clears his throat.
"Perhaps, Cordelia, you could explain what makes you think that someone is leaving?"
She looks at the man incredulously. "There's a giant moving van in the garage, that's what makes me think somebody is moving! I'm not saying people can't leave but I'd like to think that we're close enough not to keep it a secret from each other!"
Giles looks around the room. "None of us appear to be the ones leaving and while they are still abed, I can vouch that neither Faith nor Desia owns enough material goods to justify the style of truck you are speaking of for moving. Perhaps it is some new project of Alexis' that she had delivered for her return?"
Jenny, from where she is sitting next to Giles, gets a sudden mischievous look on her face, and with a snap of her fingers, she retrieves her laptop from the glove of storing she now keeps it in. It doesn't even have to boot up, as the glove keeps it in stasis, it doesn't use electricity. In fact, the only concession she had to make to get the whole system to work right is to use a teensy bit of magic to get the internal clock on the computer to update itself to the date and time on her watch whenever it first comes off the glove. After that, the system works flawlessly. She spends a few moments punching keys, and then she laughs out loud. At the stinging sensation of Cordelia's mighty glare, she softens it to a giggle.
"Sorry, Cordelia. I don't know how she disguised the Truck, but according to the GPS I put in it, they're home. They must have got in late enough to just sleep in there for the rest of the night. I'm taking the day off to put together a little party for this evening I think. Say about sixish?"
The smiles around the table are good enough for her.
>>>>
Author's note.
Much like I don't think I will do another big "Christmas exchange" chapter, I will probably not do another road trip that is quite this extravagant. They'll exist, but I'll plan on maybe two destinations rather than six.
Thanks for reading!
Deceit Within Deceit.
Chapter 92
Deceit Within Deceit.
>>>>
Alexis smiles as she awakens. Ah, home again. The ability to shamelessly use a combination of Dedicated Wrights and her Unseen Servant medallion for all manner of menial labor that she doesn't want to deal with herself. Plus access to her real shop again. All her ongoing projects. She almost can't remember why she left at all. She starts the process of having the Truck emptied of all foodstuffs, garbage, and cleaned while still in bed. At some point about twenty minutes after she awakens, she disentangles herself from Willow and heads downstairs.
Glancing at the clock over the stove, she sees it is a bit after noon. As the Truck is safe enough in the garage, she disengages the illusion on it and opens the backdoor, heading into the house proper.
Considering the number of people that live in this house she muses, it is conspicuously quiet here.
Making her way up to her room for a bath and a change of clothes is the first priority, and by the time she is heading back down to the kitchen it is almost three in the afternoon and her Wrights have finished with the truck and begun the process of getting the house cleaned up. Not that it has been left filthy or anything, by and large, her housemates are quite tidy by habit. But the detailed work and dedication that the now seven Wrights can put into getting a place sorted is something to behold.
It doesn't take her long to put together a plate of sandwiches for her fellow traveling companions to share when they come down from their own showers and putting on clothes that are not one of the seven outfits they brought with them. Alexis enjoys the quiet as everybody eats and stretches out at full human size for a change, something that hasn't happened for a while.
"I guess everybody is out for the day. I need to get into the admissions department of the college and sign some stuff, that'll probably take an hour or two. But other than that I'm pretty open today. Tomorrow I need to check on the status of our boat. We got home a little early, but if Jenny's contractors are done I need to get started. The sooner the better."
Buffy looks up from the cup o' noodles she microwaved to go with her sandwiches. "What about Santa Carla? I don't want to keep the Frog brothers hanging too long."
Alexis nods, her mind going a mile a minute. "Yeah, we'll need to see about that within the next couple of weeks. But I need to get a few projects started, and I'm supposed to talk to Henry and Giles within a couple days of us getting back. They've been pretty insistent in their e-mails that I give them a hand with something for Linmeyer. Apparently, they tried to do it without me and Faith told the Admiral he was a moron or something. Didn't go over well. So I need to try and play peacekeeper."
The rest of the table giggles at that, and Kendra sighs.
"Ah, Faith. Lowering the bar so that nothing we do or say can ever be seen as out of bounds. Truly, we owe her so much."
Buffy almost snorts noodles out her nose and gives Kendra a dirty look as she giggles. Not the easiest thing to do. Willow turns to Alex with a notepad and pen.
"What exactly do you need to do at the admissions office? I was planning on handling mine from here. It wouldn't be a problem to do all of yours as well, I'll be in the system anyways."
Alex grins. "Well, we all need to finish getting registered for classes, get our book lists, apply for off-campus housing as a freshman, that kind of thing. You know, all the stuff. At least none of us will need financial aid. That would be a regular nightmare."
Willow gives her a quick smile. "Yeah, I can do this. If we all get together in my room for maybe an hour I can have it done for all of us no problem."
Buffy finishes the last bite of her sandwich and gives Willow a concerned look. "What happens when they look for the paperwork?"
Willow just shrugs. "Then it won't be there. But the data will all be there, we'll be there, the money will be paid for us to be there, and it will all be completely legitimate. What do you think they are going to believe is more likely, that somebody hacked their system for the sake of sheer convenience, doing otherwise no wrong at all, or that some idiot student worker accidentally shredded the wrong file?" Then she smirks. "But then, if any of you really want to go stand in the lines at admissions during August at the cheapest college in California, who am I to stand in your way?"
>>>>
>> Two and a half hours later...
"...And that's done. Do you think I should go ahead and sign up the others while I'm in here? If we got Cordelia, Desia, and Faith all in the system we could probably be our own sorority." Willow turns to face the rest of the girls who are lounging on her bed in obvious excitement.
Alex looks almost excited for a second and then frowns. "Do we know what all goes with that? I mean, do they saddle the house with a minder or inspections? Does the college get to be all 'up in our biz' if we do that? Because if so, I can't see it being worth the hassle. Besides, I always had the impression that the cool part of having a sorority house was having a place to bring people back to for parties, and we've already got that. Just make sure I know ahead of time if anybody is going to be here that isn't in the know so I can get stuff locked up that they can't be seeing."
Buffy shrugs. "Well, supposedly there can be a little more to a sorority than that in the form of contacts and stuff later in life. Job opportunities n' stuff. But since none of that would apply to a sorority that was just us anyway, I'm with Alex. Probably more trouble than it's worth." She glances around. "Particularly for us, I mean, I am all for the education that is as roundy as it can be but there are certain realities to consider in our futures. If we ever decided for whatever reason to just ditch the calling and use what we can do to make money, how tough do you really think it would be?"
Kendra nods. "I considered this myself, once. In a hotel, in Boston. I decided that my soul was worth more than any amount of coin."
Willow blushes. "Well, if keeping your soul is optional, then yeah. I'm pretty sure I could make enough money in the next few hours to never have to work again."
They are all silent for a few seconds. The reality that somebody that could routinely hack the most secure federal databases in existence wouldn't have any problem moving a few hundred million dollars worth of electronic currency and give it a thorough scrubbing in the process somehow never really occurred to them.
As they are considering that revelation, there is a knock on Willow's door.
"Huh?" Is Willow's witty response.
Jenny's voice comes through the old oak door with enough of a lilt to it to betray that she is holding back a giggle. "Is everyone decent?"
Alex laughs. "Yeah, for now."
The door opens and Jenny Calendar walks into the room, grinning ear to ear. "So, how are my little rescue workers doing now that they are back from their vacation?"
Four simultaneous sighs break out across the room as Jenny breaks out into laughter.
>>>>
>> The House. Poolside. 7 PM.
"...and that's pretty much the story of the Yellowstone fiasco, Henry. It isn't like we were trying to be famous, but there were more than a hundred and fifty people there doomed to die in a fire. What were we supposed to do, just abandon them there to barbecued?" Alexis deadpans the question as she picks up her hot dog for another bite.
Starting at six PM, a part welcome home barbecue, part third degree from Henry and Gerard had been going on. The first half-hour or so, Alexis' answers had been fairly cordial. But after a certain point, she kinda felt that he wasn't quite respecting the fact that she was on vacation. And was a contractor, not a subordinate.
And had an escape clause in her god damned contract. If it came to that.
Henry takes a moment to point at her. "You contacted us for help on your vacation, remember? We were going to be hands-off. You called me, three times in three stops. It got to be such a regular happenstance I had to assign people to you and give you rank to keep you out of trouble. Don't even give me that vacation excuse. I was as hands-off as you'd let me be!"
Moments later, Alex's badge slaps his chest, followed closely by three more.
"Yeah. Sorry about that. You know, in the end, we had ways to solve all this stuff before you were here. It wasn't as pretty, maybe. And it was a bit riskier. But we could do it. I mostly contacted you each time because I figured you'd want to know. But if my keeping you in the loop is causing you more ulcers than you think it's worth, then I'm more than happy to be done with our little arrangement. You can go back to wondering and I can go back to taking care of me and mine."
Henry pales and starts to back peddle. "Now wait a minute, that isn't what I was getting at here."
Buffy shrugs. "Well, it's kinda what we were getting at. We about half figured that you'd try to use those little pieces of tin to assume more authority over us than the contractor status allowed. We decided that we'd keep them until the first time you threw it in our faces. I guess the only good part here is that since we were technically home a week early, nobody won the pool."
Kendra then speaks in a tone as dry as a Death Valley summer. "And to think, Willow was only seven days off."
Willow just grumbles. "I said he'd do it the day we got back. You people made me pick a day on the calendar. I say I won and you are a bunch of cheater-faces."
Henry holds his hands up. "Hold on! This isn't necessary!" He looks around at everybody and sighs, wiping his forehead of the sweat that is gathering there.
"Look, I won't deny that your adventures the last month have put me off my sleep. But they have because I've been worried about you ladies. I don't think you really understand just how hard it would be to continue to do the things we do here if you gained any degree of fame. Everything we accomplish has to be done effectively undercover. How is that going to happen if the paparazzi are crawling all over Sunnydale day and night trying to get a shot of you? Hell, in some ways the fact that you spent the second half of your vacation incognito as firefighting midgets actually worked out well, at least it did as I understand that your truck looked decidedly different when it got back."
He blows out a breath and stands. "You're right, I did, and do want to know what's going on. Moreover, I need to know what's going on to do my job and save lives. Because that's what we're all trying to do. Save lives."
He places the badges back on the chair he just vacated. "Look, don't make any decisions tonight. Sleep on it. We do a lot of good here, and we can do more together than we can separately."
With that, he steps back through the door in the fence, followed by an annoyed but somewhat apologetic Gerard and an actively apologizing Riley and Miller.
The silence stretches on for a minute, and then Giles turns to the four about the same time that Faith starts to smile. Giles gives Faith an odd look and then speaks to the lounge chairs nearest the barbecue, which currently contain the vacationers.
"Girls... I'll not claim to know you as a father should. But I'll say I am probably nearer the mark than any other man at this time. And so I have to ask, why did you feel the need to yank Henry's chain that sodding hard?"
All the girls smile, and Alexis laughs out loud. After she is able to pull herself together, she answers.
"Honestly, G, I already answered that. Don't get me wrong. I really like our arrangement. I think he's right, I think we do a lot of good. But I also know that he is getting a lot of pressure from above, and I knew the way I know the sun is gonna rise tomorrow, I knew as soon as he gave us those tin shields he was going to assume that the fact we took them was going to mean that we would line up and put up with his crap like the rest of his minions. He is a nice guy, and he means well. But he is used to being in charge, and he'll take exactly as much authority of your person as you'll let him have."
Diana finds herself nodding. "He did much the same to me upon first meeting if you'll recall Giles. I had to put him in his place quite firmly."
Giles finds his mouth hanging open wide for a second. "You mean you did all of that just to make sure the man continued to treat you with deference?"
Alex shakes her head. "No Giles. We did all of that because whether people want to admit it or not, you don't respect subordinates like you do equals. That's why in our organization, we don't have a system of subordinates. Everybody has a job, everybody does their job. Everybody gets along, and because of all of that, everybody goes home alive. His organization is built in a different way, where you have different ranks, and respect is assumed rather than earned on a personal level."
She waves her hand around to the rest of the people in the pool area.
"We did this because we think it would be swell if this good, upstanding, and genuinely nice guy, that we would all like to continue to work with, doesn't fall into a trap where he thinks he can order around three slayers, two techno-pagans, a half-golem, two ex-watchers, and an artificer. Because at the point at which his 'would you please' becomes 'get it done' he really will lose us, and a lot of people will probably die because of it. I'd rather that didn't happen."
Giles considers this for a few moments, and then a smile crosses his features. "You realize there is a fairly good chance he is either listening to this now or will be perusing the recording of it later?"
Alex just rolls her eyes and lays back in her lounge chair.
"God I hope so. If he's slipped so far that I end up having to explain all of this again and embarrass the both of us when he could have spared us by listening from the other side of the damn fence, I'm gonna be more than a little bit cheesed off."
On the other side of the fence, an old man smiles and silently walks away.
>>>>
>> Alex's Workshop August 6. 10 AM.
Henry was a little surprised to get the call at nine, even having overheard the conversation the night before it seemed likely that it would be a few days before everything would be a hundred percent again. But no, he was given an invitation for a ten o'clock meeting at her workshop with anybody that he wanted along to discuss how to get the SEALs ready to face demons. In response, he grabbed commander Curran, Maggie Walsh, and Sam Gerard. Linmeyer of course no longer being on site.
When they arrive at the workshop, they are met by Alex, of course. Additionally, there is Giles, Diana, Willow, and of all people, Dawn. The blond slayer's younger sister. She doesn't appear to be taking part in the talks specifically and is instead at another table working on something else. But the fact that she is here at all is odd.
Alex starts things off. "Hello there. I'm Alexis Harrison. You must be James Curran. I've heard you have a sense of humor. That's a good trait to have in this business. I'm given to believe that you know Giles and Diana. This cute redhead here is Willow, she is here primarily for her skill with a keyboard today. We can verify the exact specs of any equipment that you would normally carry for mock-up purposes. Now, Giles tells me that he's been giving you the crash course?"
James nods. "I even did a ride-along or three as... Boston and Rockette? Were doing their thing. Impressive young ladies."
Diana offers a proud smile. "Yes, they are."
Alex nods. "What do you think?"
James looks a bit pensive. Henry catches this and offers a smile in his direction. "You can answer honestly, Commander. I won't say they have never laughed at the things my people have said. But they don't take it personally and they always follow it up with the knowledge that we need. And hell, we've even surprised them a few times.
James nods at this and folds his hands in front of him. "What do I think? I think that the people that designed the do's and don'ts of your battle doctrine last checked to see if their ways held water sometime previous to the American civil war. I have paperwork that tells me that most vampires, to the tune of 99.99 percent of them, can be hurt as easily as any other human if you can catch them, and what makes them tough to kill is their speed and their regeneration. We can field automatic weapons that will spit so much lead downrange you can use them to cut down trees. Shotguns that will tear a man apart. Man-portable explosives that will reduce a structure the size of a two-story three-bedroom to a pile of cinders the size of an armchair in less than ten minutes."
He motions t the paperwork in front of him. "Frankly, I think Faith was right on the money. These vampires are scary. Very scary. And we will probably need to change our battle doctrine and load out some to be effective against them. Tracer rounds and dragon's breath, maybe flechettes. We'll need to look into the options and decide what's best. But if we've reached the point of needing to use crossbows and sharpened sticks, we're probably dead meat and thankfully I don't think it needs to come to that."
He flips a few pages in the notes he has. "And frankly, what I see of the things you've faced that weren't vampires I think makes my point. The ascension required military-grade explosives, this 'Judge' character required an explosive of some sort and then being pulled apart by a car? I have after-action reports of burying demons under rock slides and it sounds like with the proper modifications at least one member on Henry's team can just shoot the damn things and kill them with an old Springfield. There may be demon types that crossbows and sticks are best for. Especially as Faith said if you need to keep things quiet and you have the ability to pull it off. But the Watcher's council not wanting to supply their girls with modern munitions looks less to me like a tactical concern than an attempt at controlling their people through the supply chain the more I look at these reports."
By the end, he is obviously getting more than a little irate on the topic and at this point, he stops suddenly. Turns to Henry.
"Sorry, sir. I was getting a bit off-topic."
Giles is grimacing and staring at the table.
Diana looks stricken.
Alexis? She just looks pissed off.
>>>>
>> Author's Note:
We're home for a bit. A few chapters here to get things rolling and then we hit Santa Carla.
Deceit Within Deceit.
>>>>
Alexis smiles as she awakens. Ah, home again. The ability to shamelessly use a combination of Dedicated Wrights and her Unseen Servant medallion for all manner of menial labor that she doesn't want to deal with herself. Plus access to her real shop again. All her ongoing projects. She almost can't remember why she left at all. She starts the process of having the Truck emptied of all foodstuffs, garbage, and cleaned while still in bed. At some point about twenty minutes after she awakens, she disentangles herself from Willow and heads downstairs.
Glancing at the clock over the stove, she sees it is a bit after noon. As the Truck is safe enough in the garage, she disengages the illusion on it and opens the backdoor, heading into the house proper.
Considering the number of people that live in this house she muses, it is conspicuously quiet here.
Making her way up to her room for a bath and a change of clothes is the first priority, and by the time she is heading back down to the kitchen it is almost three in the afternoon and her Wrights have finished with the truck and begun the process of getting the house cleaned up. Not that it has been left filthy or anything, by and large, her housemates are quite tidy by habit. But the detailed work and dedication that the now seven Wrights can put into getting a place sorted is something to behold.
It doesn't take her long to put together a plate of sandwiches for her fellow traveling companions to share when they come down from their own showers and putting on clothes that are not one of the seven outfits they brought with them. Alexis enjoys the quiet as everybody eats and stretches out at full human size for a change, something that hasn't happened for a while.
"I guess everybody is out for the day. I need to get into the admissions department of the college and sign some stuff, that'll probably take an hour or two. But other than that I'm pretty open today. Tomorrow I need to check on the status of our boat. We got home a little early, but if Jenny's contractors are done I need to get started. The sooner the better."
Buffy looks up from the cup o' noodles she microwaved to go with her sandwiches. "What about Santa Carla? I don't want to keep the Frog brothers hanging too long."
Alexis nods, her mind going a mile a minute. "Yeah, we'll need to see about that within the next couple of weeks. But I need to get a few projects started, and I'm supposed to talk to Henry and Giles within a couple days of us getting back. They've been pretty insistent in their e-mails that I give them a hand with something for Linmeyer. Apparently, they tried to do it without me and Faith told the Admiral he was a moron or something. Didn't go over well. So I need to try and play peacekeeper."
The rest of the table giggles at that, and Kendra sighs.
"Ah, Faith. Lowering the bar so that nothing we do or say can ever be seen as out of bounds. Truly, we owe her so much."
Buffy almost snorts noodles out her nose and gives Kendra a dirty look as she giggles. Not the easiest thing to do. Willow turns to Alex with a notepad and pen.
"What exactly do you need to do at the admissions office? I was planning on handling mine from here. It wouldn't be a problem to do all of yours as well, I'll be in the system anyways."
Alex grins. "Well, we all need to finish getting registered for classes, get our book lists, apply for off-campus housing as a freshman, that kind of thing. You know, all the stuff. At least none of us will need financial aid. That would be a regular nightmare."
Willow gives her a quick smile. "Yeah, I can do this. If we all get together in my room for maybe an hour I can have it done for all of us no problem."
Buffy finishes the last bite of her sandwich and gives Willow a concerned look. "What happens when they look for the paperwork?"
Willow just shrugs. "Then it won't be there. But the data will all be there, we'll be there, the money will be paid for us to be there, and it will all be completely legitimate. What do you think they are going to believe is more likely, that somebody hacked their system for the sake of sheer convenience, doing otherwise no wrong at all, or that some idiot student worker accidentally shredded the wrong file?" Then she smirks. "But then, if any of you really want to go stand in the lines at admissions during August at the cheapest college in California, who am I to stand in your way?"
>>>>
>> Two and a half hours later...
"...And that's done. Do you think I should go ahead and sign up the others while I'm in here? If we got Cordelia, Desia, and Faith all in the system we could probably be our own sorority." Willow turns to face the rest of the girls who are lounging on her bed in obvious excitement.
Alex looks almost excited for a second and then frowns. "Do we know what all goes with that? I mean, do they saddle the house with a minder or inspections? Does the college get to be all 'up in our biz' if we do that? Because if so, I can't see it being worth the hassle. Besides, I always had the impression that the cool part of having a sorority house was having a place to bring people back to for parties, and we've already got that. Just make sure I know ahead of time if anybody is going to be here that isn't in the know so I can get stuff locked up that they can't be seeing."
Buffy shrugs. "Well, supposedly there can be a little more to a sorority than that in the form of contacts and stuff later in life. Job opportunities n' stuff. But since none of that would apply to a sorority that was just us anyway, I'm with Alex. Probably more trouble than it's worth." She glances around. "Particularly for us, I mean, I am all for the education that is as roundy as it can be but there are certain realities to consider in our futures. If we ever decided for whatever reason to just ditch the calling and use what we can do to make money, how tough do you really think it would be?"
Kendra nods. "I considered this myself, once. In a hotel, in Boston. I decided that my soul was worth more than any amount of coin."
Willow blushes. "Well, if keeping your soul is optional, then yeah. I'm pretty sure I could make enough money in the next few hours to never have to work again."
They are all silent for a few seconds. The reality that somebody that could routinely hack the most secure federal databases in existence wouldn't have any problem moving a few hundred million dollars worth of electronic currency and give it a thorough scrubbing in the process somehow never really occurred to them.
As they are considering that revelation, there is a knock on Willow's door.
"Huh?" Is Willow's witty response.
Jenny's voice comes through the old oak door with enough of a lilt to it to betray that she is holding back a giggle. "Is everyone decent?"
Alex laughs. "Yeah, for now."
The door opens and Jenny Calendar walks into the room, grinning ear to ear. "So, how are my little rescue workers doing now that they are back from their vacation?"
Four simultaneous sighs break out across the room as Jenny breaks out into laughter.
>>>>
>> The House. Poolside. 7 PM.
"...and that's pretty much the story of the Yellowstone fiasco, Henry. It isn't like we were trying to be famous, but there were more than a hundred and fifty people there doomed to die in a fire. What were we supposed to do, just abandon them there to barbecued?" Alexis deadpans the question as she picks up her hot dog for another bite.
Starting at six PM, a part welcome home barbecue, part third degree from Henry and Gerard had been going on. The first half-hour or so, Alexis' answers had been fairly cordial. But after a certain point, she kinda felt that he wasn't quite respecting the fact that she was on vacation. And was a contractor, not a subordinate.
And had an escape clause in her god damned contract. If it came to that.
Henry takes a moment to point at her. "You contacted us for help on your vacation, remember? We were going to be hands-off. You called me, three times in three stops. It got to be such a regular happenstance I had to assign people to you and give you rank to keep you out of trouble. Don't even give me that vacation excuse. I was as hands-off as you'd let me be!"
Moments later, Alex's badge slaps his chest, followed closely by three more.
"Yeah. Sorry about that. You know, in the end, we had ways to solve all this stuff before you were here. It wasn't as pretty, maybe. And it was a bit riskier. But we could do it. I mostly contacted you each time because I figured you'd want to know. But if my keeping you in the loop is causing you more ulcers than you think it's worth, then I'm more than happy to be done with our little arrangement. You can go back to wondering and I can go back to taking care of me and mine."
Henry pales and starts to back peddle. "Now wait a minute, that isn't what I was getting at here."
Buffy shrugs. "Well, it's kinda what we were getting at. We about half figured that you'd try to use those little pieces of tin to assume more authority over us than the contractor status allowed. We decided that we'd keep them until the first time you threw it in our faces. I guess the only good part here is that since we were technically home a week early, nobody won the pool."
Kendra then speaks in a tone as dry as a Death Valley summer. "And to think, Willow was only seven days off."
Willow just grumbles. "I said he'd do it the day we got back. You people made me pick a day on the calendar. I say I won and you are a bunch of cheater-faces."
Henry holds his hands up. "Hold on! This isn't necessary!" He looks around at everybody and sighs, wiping his forehead of the sweat that is gathering there.
"Look, I won't deny that your adventures the last month have put me off my sleep. But they have because I've been worried about you ladies. I don't think you really understand just how hard it would be to continue to do the things we do here if you gained any degree of fame. Everything we accomplish has to be done effectively undercover. How is that going to happen if the paparazzi are crawling all over Sunnydale day and night trying to get a shot of you? Hell, in some ways the fact that you spent the second half of your vacation incognito as firefighting midgets actually worked out well, at least it did as I understand that your truck looked decidedly different when it got back."
He blows out a breath and stands. "You're right, I did, and do want to know what's going on. Moreover, I need to know what's going on to do my job and save lives. Because that's what we're all trying to do. Save lives."
He places the badges back on the chair he just vacated. "Look, don't make any decisions tonight. Sleep on it. We do a lot of good here, and we can do more together than we can separately."
With that, he steps back through the door in the fence, followed by an annoyed but somewhat apologetic Gerard and an actively apologizing Riley and Miller.
The silence stretches on for a minute, and then Giles turns to the four about the same time that Faith starts to smile. Giles gives Faith an odd look and then speaks to the lounge chairs nearest the barbecue, which currently contain the vacationers.
"Girls... I'll not claim to know you as a father should. But I'll say I am probably nearer the mark than any other man at this time. And so I have to ask, why did you feel the need to yank Henry's chain that sodding hard?"
All the girls smile, and Alexis laughs out loud. After she is able to pull herself together, she answers.
"Honestly, G, I already answered that. Don't get me wrong. I really like our arrangement. I think he's right, I think we do a lot of good. But I also know that he is getting a lot of pressure from above, and I knew the way I know the sun is gonna rise tomorrow, I knew as soon as he gave us those tin shields he was going to assume that the fact we took them was going to mean that we would line up and put up with his crap like the rest of his minions. He is a nice guy, and he means well. But he is used to being in charge, and he'll take exactly as much authority of your person as you'll let him have."
Diana finds herself nodding. "He did much the same to me upon first meeting if you'll recall Giles. I had to put him in his place quite firmly."
Giles finds his mouth hanging open wide for a second. "You mean you did all of that just to make sure the man continued to treat you with deference?"
Alex shakes her head. "No Giles. We did all of that because whether people want to admit it or not, you don't respect subordinates like you do equals. That's why in our organization, we don't have a system of subordinates. Everybody has a job, everybody does their job. Everybody gets along, and because of all of that, everybody goes home alive. His organization is built in a different way, where you have different ranks, and respect is assumed rather than earned on a personal level."
She waves her hand around to the rest of the people in the pool area.
"We did this because we think it would be swell if this good, upstanding, and genuinely nice guy, that we would all like to continue to work with, doesn't fall into a trap where he thinks he can order around three slayers, two techno-pagans, a half-golem, two ex-watchers, and an artificer. Because at the point at which his 'would you please' becomes 'get it done' he really will lose us, and a lot of people will probably die because of it. I'd rather that didn't happen."
Giles considers this for a few moments, and then a smile crosses his features. "You realize there is a fairly good chance he is either listening to this now or will be perusing the recording of it later?"
Alex just rolls her eyes and lays back in her lounge chair.
"God I hope so. If he's slipped so far that I end up having to explain all of this again and embarrass the both of us when he could have spared us by listening from the other side of the damn fence, I'm gonna be more than a little bit cheesed off."
On the other side of the fence, an old man smiles and silently walks away.
>>>>
>> Alex's Workshop August 6. 10 AM.
Henry was a little surprised to get the call at nine, even having overheard the conversation the night before it seemed likely that it would be a few days before everything would be a hundred percent again. But no, he was given an invitation for a ten o'clock meeting at her workshop with anybody that he wanted along to discuss how to get the SEALs ready to face demons. In response, he grabbed commander Curran, Maggie Walsh, and Sam Gerard. Linmeyer of course no longer being on site.
When they arrive at the workshop, they are met by Alex, of course. Additionally, there is Giles, Diana, Willow, and of all people, Dawn. The blond slayer's younger sister. She doesn't appear to be taking part in the talks specifically and is instead at another table working on something else. But the fact that she is here at all is odd.
Alex starts things off. "Hello there. I'm Alexis Harrison. You must be James Curran. I've heard you have a sense of humor. That's a good trait to have in this business. I'm given to believe that you know Giles and Diana. This cute redhead here is Willow, she is here primarily for her skill with a keyboard today. We can verify the exact specs of any equipment that you would normally carry for mock-up purposes. Now, Giles tells me that he's been giving you the crash course?"
James nods. "I even did a ride-along or three as... Boston and Rockette? Were doing their thing. Impressive young ladies."
Diana offers a proud smile. "Yes, they are."
Alex nods. "What do you think?"
James looks a bit pensive. Henry catches this and offers a smile in his direction. "You can answer honestly, Commander. I won't say they have never laughed at the things my people have said. But they don't take it personally and they always follow it up with the knowledge that we need. And hell, we've even surprised them a few times.
James nods at this and folds his hands in front of him. "What do I think? I think that the people that designed the do's and don'ts of your battle doctrine last checked to see if their ways held water sometime previous to the American civil war. I have paperwork that tells me that most vampires, to the tune of 99.99 percent of them, can be hurt as easily as any other human if you can catch them, and what makes them tough to kill is their speed and their regeneration. We can field automatic weapons that will spit so much lead downrange you can use them to cut down trees. Shotguns that will tear a man apart. Man-portable explosives that will reduce a structure the size of a two-story three-bedroom to a pile of cinders the size of an armchair in less than ten minutes."
He motions t the paperwork in front of him. "Frankly, I think Faith was right on the money. These vampires are scary. Very scary. And we will probably need to change our battle doctrine and load out some to be effective against them. Tracer rounds and dragon's breath, maybe flechettes. We'll need to look into the options and decide what's best. But if we've reached the point of needing to use crossbows and sharpened sticks, we're probably dead meat and thankfully I don't think it needs to come to that."
He flips a few pages in the notes he has. "And frankly, what I see of the things you've faced that weren't vampires I think makes my point. The ascension required military-grade explosives, this 'Judge' character required an explosive of some sort and then being pulled apart by a car? I have after-action reports of burying demons under rock slides and it sounds like with the proper modifications at least one member on Henry's team can just shoot the damn things and kill them with an old Springfield. There may be demon types that crossbows and sticks are best for. Especially as Faith said if you need to keep things quiet and you have the ability to pull it off. But the Watcher's council not wanting to supply their girls with modern munitions looks less to me like a tactical concern than an attempt at controlling their people through the supply chain the more I look at these reports."
By the end, he is obviously getting more than a little irate on the topic and at this point, he stops suddenly. Turns to Henry.
"Sorry, sir. I was getting a bit off-topic."
Giles is grimacing and staring at the table.
Diana looks stricken.
Alexis? She just looks pissed off.
>>>>
>> Author's Note:
We're home for a bit. A few chapters here to get things rolling and then we hit Santa Carla.
- Location
- Elsewhere
Amusingly, in this conversation, it could be interpreted as "join a Sorority and lose your soul."
...which is only partially true.
And camouflage.
The question is how often you'll be in a position to open fire on a vampire with absolute confidence.
In most cases you're just looking at one or two, often in a crowd of people, and by the time you know they're a vampire, they're in arms reach.
An Unlikely Light Bringer.
Chapter 93
An Unlikely Light Bringer.
>>>>
The rest of the meeting goes as well as can be expected, with the awkward cranked to eleven like it is. In the end, Alexis offers to try to put together some equipment for their teams as well as Henry's men. But she won't make a commitment as to when until her own pressing obligations are caught up, which won't be until after October at the earliest. Before they adjourn for the day, Professor Walsh pulls out what looks to be an old-style doctor's bag from under the table and sets it on the seat next to her, then addresses the table.
"Before we are done for the day I had a few questions concerning the footage I observed of your rescue efforts."
At the panicked look in Henry's eyes and the exasperated look in Alex's, she quickly continues.
"Not in an effort to pass any kind of judgment, you understand, but merely in an effort to understand what it was that I had seen and then heard of later through my inquiries. If you would be amenable?"
Alexis offers a skeptical nod at this point, though Henry still looks like he might strangle the woman.
Walsh smiles. "I haven't had the opportunity to see the inside of that vehicle since a couple of months before the ascension. So I can't say for certain what all you've done with the interior. But I know that you intended for it to be used as a place to stay, a motor home, or mobile base, during your vacation. Given what I've come to know of you I am unwilling to believe it would be overly cramped or uncomfortable. So first, where were you storing all the water? The news cameras on the third day were quite impressed at the volume of the water tanks on your rig, and for a time I assumed that you were using one of your portable holes, but eventually the uncut footage I acquired exceeded even that possibility."
Alexis shrugs. "The water tank on the Truck is just a little over a hundred gallons, but the water generation capability is around four hundred gallons a minute. That's how we handled it. As for the interior, I just built it to half scale and made us fit it. Plenty of room that way."
Walsh's eyes absolutely sparkle. "Four hundred gallons a minute? And obviously, this could be increased I assume."
Alex is looking at her with a bit of trepidation. "Sure. It's just time and money. It isn't even a lot of it, really. It's a low-level spell."
Walsh makes a few checks on her notebook.
"And the frozen ground and other such things that were often found where you had been working? There was talk it was some kind of chemicals, but I am assuming it was in actuality that device you used against the mayor, correct?"
Alex offers another nod. "Umm, yeah?"
"Good, good. Finally, I had our tech people analyze the video footage of Kendra and Buffy quite carefully, and at no point did I find the choker that you customarily use for your size adjusting magic. They were wearing something similar, but not the same ones. Can I assume you have developed a new method?"
At this point, the commander has finally put two and two together.
"Holy shit, you're one of the 'Short Stack' Midgets?!"
Alex and Willow both blush to the roots of their hair. Walsh, however, is the one who answers him.
"Actually, they are two of them. And I will thank you to be silent. You'll note that I did not interrupt your conversation when you were speaking." Her eyes are narrowed to dangerous slits that the Initiative soldiers have all come to fear.
James just stares at the two unblinkingly for a few seconds.
Finally, Alexis and Willow look at each other and shrug. Pulling up their left sleeves slightly they press their fingertips lightly against the down arrow while willing the magic to work and a second later they are once again just under three feet tall. Getting to a standing position on the bench they share at the end of the table takes a moment, and they look across the table at the rest of the people there. When Alexis speaks it is in the same higher pitch that Kendra uses when she is in her natural, halfling form.
"The enlarge and reduce spells are only entry-level. Building them into a tattoo was legitimately a little spendy, but not nearly as bad as you'd think because of how basic the magic is, and this way it can't accidentally come off or cause problems on board the truck. I decided it was worth it. Getting these done was why we were a bit late getting out of town."
She holds up her wrist to display the tattoo. The rest of the table find themselves squinting to make out the details considering the size of the table and the current size of Alexis. Walsh, however, looks ecstatic.
"So does this mean that you have a spare of your old chokers laying around that I could borrow for a while? Partially for a tour of your truck, and also to assist me in my own work?"
Alexis shrugs. "Sure. The ones that Buffy and Kendra had are a bit superfluous now. I'd need to rebind the wrap on the choker for Kendra's, but that doesn't take any time at all. Just be advised that if you start pulling it apart to figure it out, all that'll happen is that you'll break the enchantments on it and ruin it." She frowns. "Your call if you want to test that, but you'll owe me about seven thousand dollars if you do. You break it, then you aren't borrowing it anymore."
Maggie seems shocked. "Really? That inexpensive for such a device?"
Alexis sighs irritably in response. "The truth is, Dr. Walsh, that is my bare-bones cost to make the thing. But it isn't really the cost that kills me, it's the time. It takes me seven days to complete one, I can only juggle so many projects at a time, and I am currently the only person I know of that has the capability to do it. So I can't farm it out. Every minute I am replacing something like this, I'm not modifying a gun for commander Curran or upgrading the armor and weapons of my own people. It's really my time being wasted that would piss me off."
Walsh, for a change, offers a look of such understanding, such concern, such absolute and utter devotion to the principles being discussed that Alexis can't help but feel that at that moment they are kindred spirits when the older women speaks. "I know exactly what you mean, dear child." Under her breath, but audible to the room.
There is a moment when everyone else there gets decidedly nervous as these two powerful, intelligent, and decidedly eccentric women connect on a level no one anticipated. Then Walsh breaks the moment by opening her bag suddenly.
"I'd like to take that tour when we're done here if you've the time, Alexis." She stops for a moment. "Is there a title you feel you've earned? It occurs to me that if you do not possess a Doctorate within your field, you probably should."
Alexis grins. "No, not really. Technically I'm an Artificer, but that isn't really a title as much as it is a job description. Like 'mechanic' or 'short-order cook.' Alexis is fine."
Walsh doesn't seem thrilled by that but doesn't argue the point.
"With the assistance of these Frog brothers of yours, I was finally able after the ascension to get a few specimens on which to test some of my theories. Then I improved on them."
She pulls out what looks to be an electronic lantern, the kind of battery-operated device that has graced yuppie campsites for twenty years. This one has an odd feature to it, however. The glass in its hexagonal shape is a double pane, and between those panes is a clear liquid.
"Mr. Giles, it turns out, was correct. The best I was able to get with modern ultraviolet lighting was an extreme aversion from vampiric sub-terrestrials. If they spend enough time under it, some would experience skin irritation in the form of a rash. Certainly not enough to be effective under combat conditions. However, I had an epiphany when the Frog brothers explained that even casting a shadow of a cross by putting tape on a flashlight lens will drive some lesser demons away. The sun has been worshiped for many millennia, after all. It would stand to reason that it would have religious meaning just by existing. The liquid in this ultraviolet lamp is holy water supplied by a device they claim that you made for them. And the effect on the vampires was extreme."
She smiles.
"They still will not burst into flame as I am told they will if exposed to true direct sunlight, but they will break immediately into lesions and boils on all areas of exposed flesh. It blinds them if they are silly enough to look at it, and they flee before it like cockroaches."
Then she frowns. "Sadly, I can't report that it is going to be particularly useful in actually killing them excepting perhaps as a tool to corral them. Between their predisposition to run from it and their healing abilities, which as they are not burned do not appear to be particularly affected, this seems to be mostly useful as a survival tool."
Then she pulls out a datapad. "We have enough information on file finally for the units in the field to actually be worth something, though I wouldn't count on them being more than an indicator of what might be. There is still far too much that is unknown. However, as our men will be carrying one of these units to interact with the olfactory report stones per team I thought it prudent to offer one to your people as well in case you would like to familiarize yourself with it."
Digging once more into her handbag, she pulls out a slightly oversized grenade, which she sets gently on the table. "These were tested by Daryl during the ascension and seemed to work well. Though they are obviously a situational use item, I felt you should know they are available. I'll allow you access to the file for the specifics. But know that they use a magnesium charge to preheat before they deploy, allowing for burning shrapnel to be spread over a reasonably wide area. Obviously a fire hazard, but they have proven to be remarkably effective against most targets they have thus far been tried against."
Then her face falls into disgruntled irritation. "Finally, Director Ackers, I am officially throwing in the towel on these 'Fish Steroids.' Without testing and being able to witness and take samples during the various stages of whatever exactly it is that it does, the only thing I can tell you about it is that it bears no resemblance whatsoever to any kind of tissue or excretion of any kind of fish that I've been able to uncover. Since I am assuming you still won't let me use the prisoners for their only useful purpose..."
She stops here long enough for Ackers to frown at her, and then she sighs.
"Then I am making a formal request to bring in the contractors for their expertise. Science is failing us, I feel that mysticism may not in this instance."
Ackers taps his pen against the table twice and has a look on his face as though he is sucking on a lemon. "Walsh, this is not the time or the place to make such a request."
Walsh merely shrugs as she starts the process of placing her notes in her bag now that she has removed the items from it. "I do what works, Director. You know that."
Giles is the one to respond to this. "You know, Henry, she is most likely correct. This is in all probability some form of demonic transformation, and probably should be studied. Though I'll admit that our plates stay full enough here on the Hellmouth that you'll not see me arguing for the rights. When you get tired of storing it and want to learn more, do be a good chap and let us know."
After that, the meeting falls apart rather quickly with Ackers excusing himself and making his way back to Initiative headquarters. Walsh, and oddly Commander Curran, both ask if they can tour the 'Short Stack' and after a half-hour to reset Kendra's old magic clasp into a larger black choker, she leads the two people on board for a quick look-see.
Walsh is duly impressed with utility and yet comfort built into the design, along with the seamless use of magic and technology to achieve such a thing. Curran, she is starting to believe, was something of a fan of their exploits in the park and was just thrilled to see the truck and meet the people that had saved so many lives. Which at first seems strange, given the situations that he must have faced in his career. But his response when queried is that it all comes down to experience and training. Policeman and fireman both think the other guy has the more dangerous job, that kind of deal. After thanking her for the tour and returning the choker, he heads back to the Initiative headquarters to continue his studies.
>>>>
>> The Ship 3 PM
Alexis walks up the gangplank and marvels at the changes that have already taken place. Looking around, she can see that so many things have already been managed and most of what is left that can be handled by Jenny's contractors could probably be handled quicker by herself if she was honest about it. But then, while Jenny is finishing up here Alex can be dealing with finishing the Rig.
Finding Jenny isn't hard. There is an area in the largest chunk of the hold that is set aside as an office of sorts during the refit. Basically, a cargo container with a desk and cork board on the walls that they move around to be closer to the bulk of the action. To make the crews more efficient, cut down on travel times. Walking in the office, Alexis snags one of the spare hardhats off a hook and slips it on, then walks up to a grinning Jenny.
"How goes the chaos?"
Jenny laughs. "Well enough. They're almost done, really. A few arguments to get this far because they thought I was just some dumb-ass woman that was wrecking the boat and didn't know what I was doing. But I got it straightened around."
Alexis frowns. "How did you do that?
Jenny shrugs. "After three days of being questioned and having to fight for every damn thing I fired everybody that questioned me. Two days of that, word got around and I only got people hiring on that were willing to work on an experimental piece for a woman. What I have now is a pretty good crew, I'll almost be sad to see them go."
Alexis smiles. "Hang on to their numbers. Pretty fair odds this won't be the last time we'll need major work done."
Jenny offers a grin of her own. "That's true. So what brings you down here?"
Glancing around the room, Alexis takes in all the various plans and bits of paper hanging on tacks all over the place. "Just wanted to get a feel for things before I go out to the Rig. I want to hit that hard for a week. I should be able to get most of the non-magical work done on it pretty fast. Then it will just be furnishings that I can't create myself, like the arcade, and the magic bits. I'll leave access so you can come along behind me and wire it up. I think I have the plumbing figured out now, so I'll handle that. It's all steel anyway, so it isn't like it's a huge tragedy if I screw something up and it gets messy while I learn."
Jenny nods. "Fair enough. Still worth being careful though. Eventually, people will be living there. Can you imagine the look on Giles's face if he walked into his apartment sometime to find his personal library covered in sewage?"
Alexis pales. "Maybe I will wait for you after all."
Jenny winks. "Might be a good idea. I'll even bring out a couple of my boys here when it comes to it. Shouldn't take more than a day or two to put together if all the wire and pipe are laid out for them ahead of time and all they are doing is testing things and checking fits. Oh, and by the way." She gets a somewhat annoyed look on her face. "I need another way on the Rig besides one of your Wrights opening the door if you are going to be wandering off for months at a time occasionally."
Alexis nods. "Yeah, I can see that. Sorry, I'll figure something out. Why did you need to go out?"
Jenny shrugs. "Nothing huge, Joyce remembered that we had four days worth of leftovers for something like ten people sitting in one of the fridges and they'd been sitting in there for about three weeks. I was going to get rid of them before they got too nasty, and thought I'd make a day trip of it a couple of weekends ago. Got out there and felt like an idiot floating around the platform for an hour trying to think of another way on that wasn't going to piss off the sharks."
Alexis can't help but laugh. "Yeah, that would suck. I'll handle that when I go out tonight. I'll probably disappear out there like I said for a week or so. I'm leaving the Iron Defenders and DW at the house, and one of the seven Wrights to deal with pool duties and keep things tidy, but other than that, I'll be gone."
Jenny gets a partly curious, partly trouble-making look on her face.
"Are you taking Willow with you?"
Alexis offers a smile. "Well, I'm definitely giving her the option..."
An Unlikely Light Bringer.
>>>>
The rest of the meeting goes as well as can be expected, with the awkward cranked to eleven like it is. In the end, Alexis offers to try to put together some equipment for their teams as well as Henry's men. But she won't make a commitment as to when until her own pressing obligations are caught up, which won't be until after October at the earliest. Before they adjourn for the day, Professor Walsh pulls out what looks to be an old-style doctor's bag from under the table and sets it on the seat next to her, then addresses the table.
"Before we are done for the day I had a few questions concerning the footage I observed of your rescue efforts."
At the panicked look in Henry's eyes and the exasperated look in Alex's, she quickly continues.
"Not in an effort to pass any kind of judgment, you understand, but merely in an effort to understand what it was that I had seen and then heard of later through my inquiries. If you would be amenable?"
Alexis offers a skeptical nod at this point, though Henry still looks like he might strangle the woman.
Walsh smiles. "I haven't had the opportunity to see the inside of that vehicle since a couple of months before the ascension. So I can't say for certain what all you've done with the interior. But I know that you intended for it to be used as a place to stay, a motor home, or mobile base, during your vacation. Given what I've come to know of you I am unwilling to believe it would be overly cramped or uncomfortable. So first, where were you storing all the water? The news cameras on the third day were quite impressed at the volume of the water tanks on your rig, and for a time I assumed that you were using one of your portable holes, but eventually the uncut footage I acquired exceeded even that possibility."
Alexis shrugs. "The water tank on the Truck is just a little over a hundred gallons, but the water generation capability is around four hundred gallons a minute. That's how we handled it. As for the interior, I just built it to half scale and made us fit it. Plenty of room that way."
Walsh's eyes absolutely sparkle. "Four hundred gallons a minute? And obviously, this could be increased I assume."
Alex is looking at her with a bit of trepidation. "Sure. It's just time and money. It isn't even a lot of it, really. It's a low-level spell."
Walsh makes a few checks on her notebook.
"And the frozen ground and other such things that were often found where you had been working? There was talk it was some kind of chemicals, but I am assuming it was in actuality that device you used against the mayor, correct?"
Alex offers another nod. "Umm, yeah?"
"Good, good. Finally, I had our tech people analyze the video footage of Kendra and Buffy quite carefully, and at no point did I find the choker that you customarily use for your size adjusting magic. They were wearing something similar, but not the same ones. Can I assume you have developed a new method?"
At this point, the commander has finally put two and two together.
"Holy shit, you're one of the 'Short Stack' Midgets?!"
Alex and Willow both blush to the roots of their hair. Walsh, however, is the one who answers him.
"Actually, they are two of them. And I will thank you to be silent. You'll note that I did not interrupt your conversation when you were speaking." Her eyes are narrowed to dangerous slits that the Initiative soldiers have all come to fear.
James just stares at the two unblinkingly for a few seconds.
Finally, Alexis and Willow look at each other and shrug. Pulling up their left sleeves slightly they press their fingertips lightly against the down arrow while willing the magic to work and a second later they are once again just under three feet tall. Getting to a standing position on the bench they share at the end of the table takes a moment, and they look across the table at the rest of the people there. When Alexis speaks it is in the same higher pitch that Kendra uses when she is in her natural, halfling form.
"The enlarge and reduce spells are only entry-level. Building them into a tattoo was legitimately a little spendy, but not nearly as bad as you'd think because of how basic the magic is, and this way it can't accidentally come off or cause problems on board the truck. I decided it was worth it. Getting these done was why we were a bit late getting out of town."
She holds up her wrist to display the tattoo. The rest of the table find themselves squinting to make out the details considering the size of the table and the current size of Alexis. Walsh, however, looks ecstatic.
"So does this mean that you have a spare of your old chokers laying around that I could borrow for a while? Partially for a tour of your truck, and also to assist me in my own work?"
Alexis shrugs. "Sure. The ones that Buffy and Kendra had are a bit superfluous now. I'd need to rebind the wrap on the choker for Kendra's, but that doesn't take any time at all. Just be advised that if you start pulling it apart to figure it out, all that'll happen is that you'll break the enchantments on it and ruin it." She frowns. "Your call if you want to test that, but you'll owe me about seven thousand dollars if you do. You break it, then you aren't borrowing it anymore."
Maggie seems shocked. "Really? That inexpensive for such a device?"
Alexis sighs irritably in response. "The truth is, Dr. Walsh, that is my bare-bones cost to make the thing. But it isn't really the cost that kills me, it's the time. It takes me seven days to complete one, I can only juggle so many projects at a time, and I am currently the only person I know of that has the capability to do it. So I can't farm it out. Every minute I am replacing something like this, I'm not modifying a gun for commander Curran or upgrading the armor and weapons of my own people. It's really my time being wasted that would piss me off."
Walsh, for a change, offers a look of such understanding, such concern, such absolute and utter devotion to the principles being discussed that Alexis can't help but feel that at that moment they are kindred spirits when the older women speaks. "I know exactly what you mean, dear child." Under her breath, but audible to the room.
There is a moment when everyone else there gets decidedly nervous as these two powerful, intelligent, and decidedly eccentric women connect on a level no one anticipated. Then Walsh breaks the moment by opening her bag suddenly.
"I'd like to take that tour when we're done here if you've the time, Alexis." She stops for a moment. "Is there a title you feel you've earned? It occurs to me that if you do not possess a Doctorate within your field, you probably should."
Alexis grins. "No, not really. Technically I'm an Artificer, but that isn't really a title as much as it is a job description. Like 'mechanic' or 'short-order cook.' Alexis is fine."
Walsh doesn't seem thrilled by that but doesn't argue the point.
"With the assistance of these Frog brothers of yours, I was finally able after the ascension to get a few specimens on which to test some of my theories. Then I improved on them."
She pulls out what looks to be an electronic lantern, the kind of battery-operated device that has graced yuppie campsites for twenty years. This one has an odd feature to it, however. The glass in its hexagonal shape is a double pane, and between those panes is a clear liquid.
"Mr. Giles, it turns out, was correct. The best I was able to get with modern ultraviolet lighting was an extreme aversion from vampiric sub-terrestrials. If they spend enough time under it, some would experience skin irritation in the form of a rash. Certainly not enough to be effective under combat conditions. However, I had an epiphany when the Frog brothers explained that even casting a shadow of a cross by putting tape on a flashlight lens will drive some lesser demons away. The sun has been worshiped for many millennia, after all. It would stand to reason that it would have religious meaning just by existing. The liquid in this ultraviolet lamp is holy water supplied by a device they claim that you made for them. And the effect on the vampires was extreme."
She smiles.
"They still will not burst into flame as I am told they will if exposed to true direct sunlight, but they will break immediately into lesions and boils on all areas of exposed flesh. It blinds them if they are silly enough to look at it, and they flee before it like cockroaches."
Then she frowns. "Sadly, I can't report that it is going to be particularly useful in actually killing them excepting perhaps as a tool to corral them. Between their predisposition to run from it and their healing abilities, which as they are not burned do not appear to be particularly affected, this seems to be mostly useful as a survival tool."
Then she pulls out a datapad. "We have enough information on file finally for the units in the field to actually be worth something, though I wouldn't count on them being more than an indicator of what might be. There is still far too much that is unknown. However, as our men will be carrying one of these units to interact with the olfactory report stones per team I thought it prudent to offer one to your people as well in case you would like to familiarize yourself with it."
Digging once more into her handbag, she pulls out a slightly oversized grenade, which she sets gently on the table. "These were tested by Daryl during the ascension and seemed to work well. Though they are obviously a situational use item, I felt you should know they are available. I'll allow you access to the file for the specifics. But know that they use a magnesium charge to preheat before they deploy, allowing for burning shrapnel to be spread over a reasonably wide area. Obviously a fire hazard, but they have proven to be remarkably effective against most targets they have thus far been tried against."
Then her face falls into disgruntled irritation. "Finally, Director Ackers, I am officially throwing in the towel on these 'Fish Steroids.' Without testing and being able to witness and take samples during the various stages of whatever exactly it is that it does, the only thing I can tell you about it is that it bears no resemblance whatsoever to any kind of tissue or excretion of any kind of fish that I've been able to uncover. Since I am assuming you still won't let me use the prisoners for their only useful purpose..."
She stops here long enough for Ackers to frown at her, and then she sighs.
"Then I am making a formal request to bring in the contractors for their expertise. Science is failing us, I feel that mysticism may not in this instance."
Ackers taps his pen against the table twice and has a look on his face as though he is sucking on a lemon. "Walsh, this is not the time or the place to make such a request."
Walsh merely shrugs as she starts the process of placing her notes in her bag now that she has removed the items from it. "I do what works, Director. You know that."
Giles is the one to respond to this. "You know, Henry, she is most likely correct. This is in all probability some form of demonic transformation, and probably should be studied. Though I'll admit that our plates stay full enough here on the Hellmouth that you'll not see me arguing for the rights. When you get tired of storing it and want to learn more, do be a good chap and let us know."
After that, the meeting falls apart rather quickly with Ackers excusing himself and making his way back to Initiative headquarters. Walsh, and oddly Commander Curran, both ask if they can tour the 'Short Stack' and after a half-hour to reset Kendra's old magic clasp into a larger black choker, she leads the two people on board for a quick look-see.
Walsh is duly impressed with utility and yet comfort built into the design, along with the seamless use of magic and technology to achieve such a thing. Curran, she is starting to believe, was something of a fan of their exploits in the park and was just thrilled to see the truck and meet the people that had saved so many lives. Which at first seems strange, given the situations that he must have faced in his career. But his response when queried is that it all comes down to experience and training. Policeman and fireman both think the other guy has the more dangerous job, that kind of deal. After thanking her for the tour and returning the choker, he heads back to the Initiative headquarters to continue his studies.
>>>>
>> The Ship 3 PM
Alexis walks up the gangplank and marvels at the changes that have already taken place. Looking around, she can see that so many things have already been managed and most of what is left that can be handled by Jenny's contractors could probably be handled quicker by herself if she was honest about it. But then, while Jenny is finishing up here Alex can be dealing with finishing the Rig.
Finding Jenny isn't hard. There is an area in the largest chunk of the hold that is set aside as an office of sorts during the refit. Basically, a cargo container with a desk and cork board on the walls that they move around to be closer to the bulk of the action. To make the crews more efficient, cut down on travel times. Walking in the office, Alexis snags one of the spare hardhats off a hook and slips it on, then walks up to a grinning Jenny.
"How goes the chaos?"
Jenny laughs. "Well enough. They're almost done, really. A few arguments to get this far because they thought I was just some dumb-ass woman that was wrecking the boat and didn't know what I was doing. But I got it straightened around."
Alexis frowns. "How did you do that?
Jenny shrugs. "After three days of being questioned and having to fight for every damn thing I fired everybody that questioned me. Two days of that, word got around and I only got people hiring on that were willing to work on an experimental piece for a woman. What I have now is a pretty good crew, I'll almost be sad to see them go."
Alexis smiles. "Hang on to their numbers. Pretty fair odds this won't be the last time we'll need major work done."
Jenny offers a grin of her own. "That's true. So what brings you down here?"
Glancing around the room, Alexis takes in all the various plans and bits of paper hanging on tacks all over the place. "Just wanted to get a feel for things before I go out to the Rig. I want to hit that hard for a week. I should be able to get most of the non-magical work done on it pretty fast. Then it will just be furnishings that I can't create myself, like the arcade, and the magic bits. I'll leave access so you can come along behind me and wire it up. I think I have the plumbing figured out now, so I'll handle that. It's all steel anyway, so it isn't like it's a huge tragedy if I screw something up and it gets messy while I learn."
Jenny nods. "Fair enough. Still worth being careful though. Eventually, people will be living there. Can you imagine the look on Giles's face if he walked into his apartment sometime to find his personal library covered in sewage?"
Alexis pales. "Maybe I will wait for you after all."
Jenny winks. "Might be a good idea. I'll even bring out a couple of my boys here when it comes to it. Shouldn't take more than a day or two to put together if all the wire and pipe are laid out for them ahead of time and all they are doing is testing things and checking fits. Oh, and by the way." She gets a somewhat annoyed look on her face. "I need another way on the Rig besides one of your Wrights opening the door if you are going to be wandering off for months at a time occasionally."
Alexis nods. "Yeah, I can see that. Sorry, I'll figure something out. Why did you need to go out?"
Jenny shrugs. "Nothing huge, Joyce remembered that we had four days worth of leftovers for something like ten people sitting in one of the fridges and they'd been sitting in there for about three weeks. I was going to get rid of them before they got too nasty, and thought I'd make a day trip of it a couple of weekends ago. Got out there and felt like an idiot floating around the platform for an hour trying to think of another way on that wasn't going to piss off the sharks."
Alexis can't help but laugh. "Yeah, that would suck. I'll handle that when I go out tonight. I'll probably disappear out there like I said for a week or so. I'm leaving the Iron Defenders and DW at the house, and one of the seven Wrights to deal with pool duties and keep things tidy, but other than that, I'll be gone."
Jenny gets a partly curious, partly trouble-making look on her face.
"Are you taking Willow with you?"
Alexis offers a smile. "Well, I'm definitely giving her the option..."
True, though it is worth noting that Faith's comments from before are still true. If you are sending in special forces, chances are good that you are no longer particularly concerned about whether or not anybody is in disguise. It's most likely an active war zone, and blowing it up is probably still on the table. Under those circumstances, the vampire's typical camo of simply looking human is decidedly less useful.
Nope, the convention explicitly revokes all protections to anyone who does certain things. Eating a civilian (or, indeed, an enemy combatant) alive is definitely one of them, so it's actually impossible to commit a war crime against a vamp.
Well, most vamps anyway, fledges and anyone who stuck to animal and bagged their whole unlife might scrape by.I know this story is already long-since written and you're just reposting it, but I wanted to point that one out. The re-read has been enjoyable.
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Six To One, Half a Dozen of the Other.
Chapter 94
Six To One, Half a Dozen of the Other.
>>>>
>> The Rig. August 12. 9:44 AM
Alex was right. Six days with six Wrights working sixteen hours a day on it, basically all the time they aren't working on magical stuff, plus herself, her Unseen servant, and Willow helping to crunch the numbers when the two aren't... otherwise occupied. And the apartment areas of the Rig are going up so fast she'd had to ask Jenny to buy a bunch of materials in bulk on day two and have them hauled out behind a tug to get pulled to the upper deck via crane.
It's amazing how many problems go away when you actually have the ability to wave two hundred thousand dollars at them.
The pool area she wants to put together will take time simply because the portable holes she has to use for the base of it will take build time that she doesn't have right now. But other than that, the place is ready for the electrician and the industrial plumber to come through and do their thing. Once they're done she can start the finishing touches, and with any luck, the three teleport pads, one here, one at the House, and one on the Ship, will all be done by October
Knock on wood.
None of which, of course, explains why she is waking up right now. Her alarm isn't even supposed to be considering the possibility of going off for another fifteen minutes. But then, it isn't her alarm that's doing it. It's that damn Satellite phone that Henry supplied her. She lets it go to voicemail the first time. The second time she gets called though, she answers on the third ring.
"This is Alexis."
Henry's voice sounds unbelievably strained on the phone.
"Alex, we have a bit of a problem and I was hoping maybe you could make a trip to town to lend us a hand processing a crime scene. I know you are on vacation and I hate to ask, trust me when I say I understand how annoying calls like this are. But this really can't wait and it involves your group."
Alex finds herself sitting up, suddenly terrified. "Oh god. Who died?"
There is a slight pause, and then Henry's voice comes over the line very apologetic. "No, no, all your people are fine. Sorry, I didn't consider how that would sound until after it was out. But we have a six-man team that my people can confirm have had a history with the Watcher's council in a 'problems disposal' capacity that were found today spread all over the apartment they were renting under assumed names. Frankly, given the paperwork we've found at the scene, I think they probably had it coming. As I understand it they were hired to kill Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles and were only waiting for the checks to clear before they followed through. But I need to know that whatever happened there isn't something that is now loose in the city, because whatever it was, it took six hardened mercenaries and removed them from the playing field without a shot fired."
Alex's lips form a thin line of disgust and hate. The council. It always comes back to the damn council. She'll have to get serious about these idiots sooner rather than later it seems.
"I'll be in town within the hour. Can you have your people meet me at the house and bring me in?"
Henry sounds a little better as he responds. "Absolutely. See you soon."
Getting showered and dressed is quick, though explaining to Willow what is going on does slow things down some. Getting on the stupid boat when she is in a hurry makes her wish there was some way to speed up the teleport pads or even the invisibility and flight-capable items she was considering as an alternate form of quick travel. Arriving at the house requires calling a taxi, so it ends up being a little longer than an hour before she meets Miller at the front steps. Willow decides to stay at the house and hop online to see what she can dig up about things there, not being hugely excited about being around corpses unless she has to be.
Miller then leads Alex back to the apartment in question, which turns out to be a short, four-block walk. Henry meets her at the door.
"Alexis. Thank you for coming. Do you need nose plugs?"
Alexis turns a little green as a familiar odor wafts out of the slightly ajar doorway. "How long have they been dead in there?" As she asks she is digging around in her satchel for a specific choker, and upon snapping it shut on her neck the rancid smell of rotting meat is suddenly cut off.
Henry opens the door when she shakes her head at the offered nose clip, and then he opens the door.
"We'll need our forensics people to go over it pretty carefully to make sure, but the current estimate is three days. We're guessing it was in the evening as the air conditioning was off when it happened or at least was turned off before the perpetrator left. Three days baking in the heat didn't do much for the ambiance of the locale I'm afraid."
Henry glances at Alexis and gets a slightly sheepish look on his face when he sees the look of horror on hers. "Sorry. After a few decades doing this kind of work you get a little jaded."
Alexis walks past him and into the living room, where she can see the remains of the six men. They don't look like hardened mercenaries. They look like victims. Their eyes are opened and faces stuck forever as they are left lying there in a rictus of terror and pain.
They've been stabbed. Each a single plunging thrust to the chest. Plenty deep enough for the red stain of their entire blood supply to be spread all over the floor.
Alexis walks through this mess with a detached mind. If she tried to concentrate on the here and now, she'd be a gibbering wreck. But by not thinking about it too hard, she is able to let the memories she gained that Halloween come to the front and pick up a few specific details. A few things that don't make sense.
"These men didn't fight back. There are no defensive wounds anywhere. Why didn't they fight back? And the wounds on their bodies were made with a long implement of some kind, not a tooth or claw. This was... This was the result of an execution once they were already immobile. It's like somebody drugged them, dragged them here, and then took them out to make a point. The question is, who would hate them this much? I mean, look at them. They were awake when this happened to them. They felt the blade slip between their ribs."
Henry gives her a crisp nod, impressed at her quick deductions. It might look less goofy if he wasn't wearing the nose clip, Alexis decides.
"Up to that point, you haven't told us anything we didn't already know. The problem comes in figuring out exactly who sent them, verifying for certain why they were here aside from what we have now which is just some notes found in a briefcase, some leading phone records, and some history on four of the men. What the agent was that put them down like they are, and finally, who did it and what weapon was used to make this statement for the council to find out about."
The two spend another ten minutes looking around the apartment for any more clues they can find, when Cosmo, the smaller, bespectacled marshal of Gerard's calls them into the bathroom.
"Hey, Director? I still don't know what the stuff is, but I think I have your poison introduction method here."
When Alexis and Henry come over to where he is, he's crouching next to an electrical socket on the wall. "There's some kind of residue over and around a dozen of these sockets. Like somebody snuck in here while everybody was out and stuck in a bunch of those electrical potpourri things the ex loved so damned much. The problem is the smell. If you get close and get a good whiff, it matches up with one of the problem odors you briefed us on when we took this job."
Alexis shuts off her choker after getting close to the wall and she has to hand it to Cosmo. It's easy to miss, the smell of the corpses nearly drowns it out. But it's definitely there. It's the same stuff the mayor was using during the ascension.
Henry goes gray in the face as he considers the possibilities.
Alexis gets a little nervous. Because she has a pretty fair guess who this might be now. He recognized it by scent before, so he'd been around it. She sighs as she considers.
Chances are he knew how to brew it. Hell, if she understood his late teens and early twenties as well as she thinks she does, he'd probably used the stuff recreationally in small doses. Poof, instant pseudo slave harem fantasy, albeit between consenting adults. Probably right up his skeezy alley back then.
She's seen through the eyes of DW this man put a crossbow bolt in a human assassin that was after Buffy without a second thought already once before. The idea that he might try to muddy the waters a bit now that they have the government working so close to them, and use a magical gas to even the odds for himself? It isn't even approaching the limits of what she suspects he's capable of based on hints she's picked up here and there. The nature of the example he set here is mitigated by the fact that if she understands how the gas works, they really didn't feel much in the way of pain. But the likelihood that other mercenaries would accept the commission once the word got out what happened to the last group was likely to go way, way down.
Ignoring the irritated look of the forensics specialists that are photographing everything in the building, she pulls out one of the kitchen chairs and sits down. How does she spin this to Henry? God, Henry will be a veritable kitten compared to Gerard, how do you spin something that in the end can only be called a mass slaughter to a stickler like Samuel Gerard?
Henry walks up to her and lays a hand on her shoulder. "You know something. What is it?"
Alexis looks up at the man and shakes her head. "I don't know anything for sure, I've been out on the Rig. You know that. But I do know that if I was looking to find out what was going on, I'd start with Giles. Try to get the recipe for this stuff out of him. Use the same tracking methods we did for the hellhounds and the Tucker Wells. Maybe we'll get lucky and there's a paper trail."
Henry frowns at her. "Nothing else?"
Alexis sighs. This is gonna hurt. If nothing else, having to break Giles out of their stupid jail later would burn a lot of bridges if Henry can't see reason.
"I'd make sure you have the exits covered when you approach Giles about it. He takes people going after his Slayers extremely personally, and he is capable of this." She looks Henry in the eyes. "But Henry? If he did it, it was in defense of me and mine. It was completely justified, an act done in a time of war, let's say. And if you fuck with him over it you won't like what happens."
Henry's face breaks into a slight smile and he gets a somewhat faraway look in his eyes, remembering another conversation about not telling him too much he had not too long ago as these things are measured.
"Go ahead and stop there. For the record, I'll agree that if he did it, it would be justified based on what we've found here. I'll also say that if he did it, all of a sudden his nickname and the deference that a lot of the supernatural underworld seems to pay him suddenly makes a lot of sense."
He takes a moment to pull out a chair himself and sit, waving away the agents that are hovering in the area.
"I'll level with you. We already have Giles in custody. He came quietly when we called him in about this two and a half hours ago. And no, we won't be keeping him locked up for this, but we will be having some pretty serious god damned discussions about what is and isn't acceptable and the kinds of things that should be brought to us to handle. There are things we can deal with better than you people, after all. Let us have our fun too."
Henry sighs. Rubs his forehead with his thumb and forefinger.
"As for why you're here now? Partly I wanted to hear your take on it so I could get a feel for how useful you'd be for situations like this in the future. You passed with flying colors. Beyond that, I needed to know. Hate me if you want, but after the last week or so I needed to know if it came to it you would give me good information if the shit was really hitting the fan. Someday the world might depend on it, and I can't deal in maybes."
Alexis stands, her face turning red in fury.
"I have never been anything but honest with you. Until that changes, you keep your bullshit little mind games and all this other crap the hell out of my way or you can do this job without my help. I do not have the time in my life for some drama factory of an over-the-hill bastard that has nothing better to do than be a paranoid asshole that lives to piss me off on my fucking vacation!"
Henry watches her leave. He needed this. He needed to know.
But at the same time, he wishes a better, cleaner, less destructive opportunity had come around to find out. Their working relationship may not ever recover completely.
He sighs one more time into his hands.
Story of his life, right there.
>>>>
>> The House, Giles and Jenny's room, 10 PM, same day.
He walks in the door uncertain if he'll be welcome. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd done. Far from it, the tip-off he'd gotten had indicated that the council had used this same organization to liquidate twelve slayers in the last two hundred years. Something he'd learned when he'd made some polite inquiries after commander Curran made his claims about weaponry and control.
He'd always known that the council would withhold resources. Would cease offering assistance to recalcitrant slayers. Despicable, that they would leave a champion of light out to hang like that, but it isn't quite the same as ordering a hit on them. But to find out from an inconsolable childhood friend that not only were his suspicions true but that the men in question were already in the city and that his neck as well was on the chopping block? He can't really account for what he was feeling. A cold rage probably fits best. That they would do this. That Travers would drive him to this.
That any human being would take money to murder a person that had saved all of humanity as many times as Buffy had.
When Henry called him in to ask him for his opinion on the crime scene, he'd very coldly told the man exactly what the men were there to do, and that unless more were sent there would not be any more scenes like it.
Henry was not particularly a fan of that.
If he could have, Giles suspects that Henry would have him in a cell next to Zabuto. And in the back of his mind, he's willing to concede that the lawman had his reasons. But he'd be committing suicide on too many other fronts to do that, so it won't happen.
As Giles takes off his shirt and watches Jenny set aside the book she was reading as she lays abed, he considers that it will be quite some time before he will be able to so much as pass gas without Henry being able to tell what last night's dinner was, however. To say that some trust has apparently been lost is putting in mildly. He cringes a bit at the look on Jenny's face as he slides into bed. Trust might be an issue on multiple fronts.
"Jenny, I..."
"I just want to hear you say that next time, you will tell us. Next time, you will not take the unilateral action that you get on everyone else's case for. I want to hear you mean it, Giles. I'm not mad you killed them. I'm mad you didn't let anybody know what the hell was going on. You could have fucking died, we could have lost you, and nobody would have known where to even find your body."
As the shame creeps deep into his soul, he wraps the now weeping woman in a hug and holds her tight, promising just that and more.
>>>>
>> Author's Note:
It occurred to me that in the third of a million words that I have written for this thing, I've never really had an opportunity to have Ol' Ripper live up to his name. He's always made out to be this kinda has-been big bad that people are a bit nervous around but rarely is it actually shown in fan-fic why that would be.
In my view, this is why. He is intelligent. He is methodical. He is highly educated in a myriad of arcane arts. And if you piss him off badly enough, he'll use those attributes to remove you. On a good day for you, he'll come at you swinging, and he'll probably win. On a bad day for you, he'll come at you plotting, and he'll almost definitely win.
People doing a re-read of this will note I toned down his response a tad. There were complaints before that, upon reflection, I have to admit were probably justified. 'Just' murder is probably enough in this instance.
Thanks for reading!
Six To One, Half a Dozen of the Other.
>>>>
>> The Rig. August 12. 9:44 AM
Alex was right. Six days with six Wrights working sixteen hours a day on it, basically all the time they aren't working on magical stuff, plus herself, her Unseen servant, and Willow helping to crunch the numbers when the two aren't... otherwise occupied. And the apartment areas of the Rig are going up so fast she'd had to ask Jenny to buy a bunch of materials in bulk on day two and have them hauled out behind a tug to get pulled to the upper deck via crane.
It's amazing how many problems go away when you actually have the ability to wave two hundred thousand dollars at them.
The pool area she wants to put together will take time simply because the portable holes she has to use for the base of it will take build time that she doesn't have right now. But other than that, the place is ready for the electrician and the industrial plumber to come through and do their thing. Once they're done she can start the finishing touches, and with any luck, the three teleport pads, one here, one at the House, and one on the Ship, will all be done by October
Knock on wood.
None of which, of course, explains why she is waking up right now. Her alarm isn't even supposed to be considering the possibility of going off for another fifteen minutes. But then, it isn't her alarm that's doing it. It's that damn Satellite phone that Henry supplied her. She lets it go to voicemail the first time. The second time she gets called though, she answers on the third ring.
"This is Alexis."
Henry's voice sounds unbelievably strained on the phone.
"Alex, we have a bit of a problem and I was hoping maybe you could make a trip to town to lend us a hand processing a crime scene. I know you are on vacation and I hate to ask, trust me when I say I understand how annoying calls like this are. But this really can't wait and it involves your group."
Alex finds herself sitting up, suddenly terrified. "Oh god. Who died?"
There is a slight pause, and then Henry's voice comes over the line very apologetic. "No, no, all your people are fine. Sorry, I didn't consider how that would sound until after it was out. But we have a six-man team that my people can confirm have had a history with the Watcher's council in a 'problems disposal' capacity that were found today spread all over the apartment they were renting under assumed names. Frankly, given the paperwork we've found at the scene, I think they probably had it coming. As I understand it they were hired to kill Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles and were only waiting for the checks to clear before they followed through. But I need to know that whatever happened there isn't something that is now loose in the city, because whatever it was, it took six hardened mercenaries and removed them from the playing field without a shot fired."
Alex's lips form a thin line of disgust and hate. The council. It always comes back to the damn council. She'll have to get serious about these idiots sooner rather than later it seems.
"I'll be in town within the hour. Can you have your people meet me at the house and bring me in?"
Henry sounds a little better as he responds. "Absolutely. See you soon."
Getting showered and dressed is quick, though explaining to Willow what is going on does slow things down some. Getting on the stupid boat when she is in a hurry makes her wish there was some way to speed up the teleport pads or even the invisibility and flight-capable items she was considering as an alternate form of quick travel. Arriving at the house requires calling a taxi, so it ends up being a little longer than an hour before she meets Miller at the front steps. Willow decides to stay at the house and hop online to see what she can dig up about things there, not being hugely excited about being around corpses unless she has to be.
Miller then leads Alex back to the apartment in question, which turns out to be a short, four-block walk. Henry meets her at the door.
"Alexis. Thank you for coming. Do you need nose plugs?"
Alexis turns a little green as a familiar odor wafts out of the slightly ajar doorway. "How long have they been dead in there?" As she asks she is digging around in her satchel for a specific choker, and upon snapping it shut on her neck the rancid smell of rotting meat is suddenly cut off.
Henry opens the door when she shakes her head at the offered nose clip, and then he opens the door.
"We'll need our forensics people to go over it pretty carefully to make sure, but the current estimate is three days. We're guessing it was in the evening as the air conditioning was off when it happened or at least was turned off before the perpetrator left. Three days baking in the heat didn't do much for the ambiance of the locale I'm afraid."
Henry glances at Alexis and gets a slightly sheepish look on his face when he sees the look of horror on hers. "Sorry. After a few decades doing this kind of work you get a little jaded."
Alexis walks past him and into the living room, where she can see the remains of the six men. They don't look like hardened mercenaries. They look like victims. Their eyes are opened and faces stuck forever as they are left lying there in a rictus of terror and pain.
They've been stabbed. Each a single plunging thrust to the chest. Plenty deep enough for the red stain of their entire blood supply to be spread all over the floor.
Alexis walks through this mess with a detached mind. If she tried to concentrate on the here and now, she'd be a gibbering wreck. But by not thinking about it too hard, she is able to let the memories she gained that Halloween come to the front and pick up a few specific details. A few things that don't make sense.
"These men didn't fight back. There are no defensive wounds anywhere. Why didn't they fight back? And the wounds on their bodies were made with a long implement of some kind, not a tooth or claw. This was... This was the result of an execution once they were already immobile. It's like somebody drugged them, dragged them here, and then took them out to make a point. The question is, who would hate them this much? I mean, look at them. They were awake when this happened to them. They felt the blade slip between their ribs."
Henry gives her a crisp nod, impressed at her quick deductions. It might look less goofy if he wasn't wearing the nose clip, Alexis decides.
"Up to that point, you haven't told us anything we didn't already know. The problem comes in figuring out exactly who sent them, verifying for certain why they were here aside from what we have now which is just some notes found in a briefcase, some leading phone records, and some history on four of the men. What the agent was that put them down like they are, and finally, who did it and what weapon was used to make this statement for the council to find out about."
The two spend another ten minutes looking around the apartment for any more clues they can find, when Cosmo, the smaller, bespectacled marshal of Gerard's calls them into the bathroom.
"Hey, Director? I still don't know what the stuff is, but I think I have your poison introduction method here."
When Alexis and Henry come over to where he is, he's crouching next to an electrical socket on the wall. "There's some kind of residue over and around a dozen of these sockets. Like somebody snuck in here while everybody was out and stuck in a bunch of those electrical potpourri things the ex loved so damned much. The problem is the smell. If you get close and get a good whiff, it matches up with one of the problem odors you briefed us on when we took this job."
Alexis shuts off her choker after getting close to the wall and she has to hand it to Cosmo. It's easy to miss, the smell of the corpses nearly drowns it out. But it's definitely there. It's the same stuff the mayor was using during the ascension.
Henry goes gray in the face as he considers the possibilities.
Alexis gets a little nervous. Because she has a pretty fair guess who this might be now. He recognized it by scent before, so he'd been around it. She sighs as she considers.
Chances are he knew how to brew it. Hell, if she understood his late teens and early twenties as well as she thinks she does, he'd probably used the stuff recreationally in small doses. Poof, instant pseudo slave harem fantasy, albeit between consenting adults. Probably right up his skeezy alley back then.
She's seen through the eyes of DW this man put a crossbow bolt in a human assassin that was after Buffy without a second thought already once before. The idea that he might try to muddy the waters a bit now that they have the government working so close to them, and use a magical gas to even the odds for himself? It isn't even approaching the limits of what she suspects he's capable of based on hints she's picked up here and there. The nature of the example he set here is mitigated by the fact that if she understands how the gas works, they really didn't feel much in the way of pain. But the likelihood that other mercenaries would accept the commission once the word got out what happened to the last group was likely to go way, way down.
Ignoring the irritated look of the forensics specialists that are photographing everything in the building, she pulls out one of the kitchen chairs and sits down. How does she spin this to Henry? God, Henry will be a veritable kitten compared to Gerard, how do you spin something that in the end can only be called a mass slaughter to a stickler like Samuel Gerard?
Henry walks up to her and lays a hand on her shoulder. "You know something. What is it?"
Alexis looks up at the man and shakes her head. "I don't know anything for sure, I've been out on the Rig. You know that. But I do know that if I was looking to find out what was going on, I'd start with Giles. Try to get the recipe for this stuff out of him. Use the same tracking methods we did for the hellhounds and the Tucker Wells. Maybe we'll get lucky and there's a paper trail."
Henry frowns at her. "Nothing else?"
Alexis sighs. This is gonna hurt. If nothing else, having to break Giles out of their stupid jail later would burn a lot of bridges if Henry can't see reason.
"I'd make sure you have the exits covered when you approach Giles about it. He takes people going after his Slayers extremely personally, and he is capable of this." She looks Henry in the eyes. "But Henry? If he did it, it was in defense of me and mine. It was completely justified, an act done in a time of war, let's say. And if you fuck with him over it you won't like what happens."
Henry's face breaks into a slight smile and he gets a somewhat faraway look in his eyes, remembering another conversation about not telling him too much he had not too long ago as these things are measured.
"Go ahead and stop there. For the record, I'll agree that if he did it, it would be justified based on what we've found here. I'll also say that if he did it, all of a sudden his nickname and the deference that a lot of the supernatural underworld seems to pay him suddenly makes a lot of sense."
He takes a moment to pull out a chair himself and sit, waving away the agents that are hovering in the area.
"I'll level with you. We already have Giles in custody. He came quietly when we called him in about this two and a half hours ago. And no, we won't be keeping him locked up for this, but we will be having some pretty serious god damned discussions about what is and isn't acceptable and the kinds of things that should be brought to us to handle. There are things we can deal with better than you people, after all. Let us have our fun too."
Henry sighs. Rubs his forehead with his thumb and forefinger.
"As for why you're here now? Partly I wanted to hear your take on it so I could get a feel for how useful you'd be for situations like this in the future. You passed with flying colors. Beyond that, I needed to know. Hate me if you want, but after the last week or so I needed to know if it came to it you would give me good information if the shit was really hitting the fan. Someday the world might depend on it, and I can't deal in maybes."
Alexis stands, her face turning red in fury.
"I have never been anything but honest with you. Until that changes, you keep your bullshit little mind games and all this other crap the hell out of my way or you can do this job without my help. I do not have the time in my life for some drama factory of an over-the-hill bastard that has nothing better to do than be a paranoid asshole that lives to piss me off on my fucking vacation!"
Henry watches her leave. He needed this. He needed to know.
But at the same time, he wishes a better, cleaner, less destructive opportunity had come around to find out. Their working relationship may not ever recover completely.
He sighs one more time into his hands.
Story of his life, right there.
>>>>
>> The House, Giles and Jenny's room, 10 PM, same day.
He walks in the door uncertain if he'll be welcome. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd done. Far from it, the tip-off he'd gotten had indicated that the council had used this same organization to liquidate twelve slayers in the last two hundred years. Something he'd learned when he'd made some polite inquiries after commander Curran made his claims about weaponry and control.
He'd always known that the council would withhold resources. Would cease offering assistance to recalcitrant slayers. Despicable, that they would leave a champion of light out to hang like that, but it isn't quite the same as ordering a hit on them. But to find out from an inconsolable childhood friend that not only were his suspicions true but that the men in question were already in the city and that his neck as well was on the chopping block? He can't really account for what he was feeling. A cold rage probably fits best. That they would do this. That Travers would drive him to this.
That any human being would take money to murder a person that had saved all of humanity as many times as Buffy had.
When Henry called him in to ask him for his opinion on the crime scene, he'd very coldly told the man exactly what the men were there to do, and that unless more were sent there would not be any more scenes like it.
Henry was not particularly a fan of that.
If he could have, Giles suspects that Henry would have him in a cell next to Zabuto. And in the back of his mind, he's willing to concede that the lawman had his reasons. But he'd be committing suicide on too many other fronts to do that, so it won't happen.
As Giles takes off his shirt and watches Jenny set aside the book she was reading as she lays abed, he considers that it will be quite some time before he will be able to so much as pass gas without Henry being able to tell what last night's dinner was, however. To say that some trust has apparently been lost is putting in mildly. He cringes a bit at the look on Jenny's face as he slides into bed. Trust might be an issue on multiple fronts.
"Jenny, I..."
"I just want to hear you say that next time, you will tell us. Next time, you will not take the unilateral action that you get on everyone else's case for. I want to hear you mean it, Giles. I'm not mad you killed them. I'm mad you didn't let anybody know what the hell was going on. You could have fucking died, we could have lost you, and nobody would have known where to even find your body."
As the shame creeps deep into his soul, he wraps the now weeping woman in a hug and holds her tight, promising just that and more.
>>>>
>> Author's Note:
It occurred to me that in the third of a million words that I have written for this thing, I've never really had an opportunity to have Ol' Ripper live up to his name. He's always made out to be this kinda has-been big bad that people are a bit nervous around but rarely is it actually shown in fan-fic why that would be.
In my view, this is why. He is intelligent. He is methodical. He is highly educated in a myriad of arcane arts. And if you piss him off badly enough, he'll use those attributes to remove you. On a good day for you, he'll come at you swinging, and he'll probably win. On a bad day for you, he'll come at you plotting, and he'll almost definitely win.
People doing a re-read of this will note I toned down his response a tad. There were complaints before that, upon reflection, I have to admit were probably justified. 'Just' murder is probably enough in this instance.
Thanks for reading!
Apprentice.
Chapter 95
Apprentice.
>>>>
>> The Ship, August 18. 3:30 PM.
This seemed like such a good idea when she conceived of it, she thinks sourly as she grumbles at how long the final refit is taking. She'd had the Wrights continue the 'construct' engine for the Ship while she was working on the Rig for a week and a half. The same engine they had been painstakingly putting pieces together for in one of the portable holes for over a month already. At least the first half of it, the part that all it does is spin around and connect to pulleys and cranks and such to use all that power effectively. It seemed a good use of time. One working on that eight hours a day.
And if she'd actually done the work on the ship, she's sure it would be fine. But somehow, even though technically the engineers followed the plan everything is still off just enough that getting everything to fit in the space provided and line up correctly is proving to be the unholiest of bitches ever. Especially with Jenny nowhere to be found to assist.
Alex frowns as she absent-mindedly sends out the next batch of mental commands to her workers. Giles fucked up, and Jenny is mothering him a bit while keeping him on a short leash. But unfortunately, after what she and Willow had pulled on Buffy's birthday last year, she really isn't in a position to call him out on it. The slayers and Diana were, if not over the moon, at least pleased that there was somebody willing to kill for them, and Joyce made the man a batch of cookies when she learned what it was all about.
Checking the time, she decides to call it a day for herself at least. The Wrights can keep at it. With luck they can have the engine settled in, the major furnishings of the crew quarters, wheelhouse, and the mess all handled by the weekend. The tiny little bull crap that needs to get put together will take forever, but at that point, the ship will be basically good to go except for electrical appliances and the generator, and she'll definitely need help from Jenny for that one. The engine in this thing turns a screw to move the boat, sure. But it should also have enough power to effectively supply enough juice to power a small town on top of that once a major generator has been hooked up to that same wheel. Electricity shouldn't be an issue onboard, but getting all the breakers and resistors and whatever squared away makes her head hurt at the math.
Joyce was right. College will be good for her. As annoying as that is.
Heading up to the deck of the ship she gets on the one concession she has made for herself in the last four days. She spent an afternoon three days ago buying a moped. Having to get a taxi the other morning was highly annoying, and a moped is light enough that with her belt on she can lift it on and off the cabin cruiser. Strapping her helmet on, she enjoys the five-minute ride home.
>>>>
>> The Shop. 8 PM.
Alexis yawns. She isn't really all that tired, but she has been getting up pretty early the last few days. Dawn asked to meet in her shop after dinner tonight though, and technically she is an apprentice, so it's kind of important to be there for her.
About five after the door opens and Dawn enters. She looks somewhere between excited and annoyed.
Exoyed? Annited?
She'll work on it.
"C'mon in and pull up a bit of bench Dawn. What did you need?"
Dawn walks into the room and sits at the bench, on the long side of the table while Alexis is at the head. But she is quite close and scoots over so she can pull things out of the bag she brought with her to show Alexis. A few items, and a notebook.
"Well, While you were off on vacation I did a bunch of stuff including classes and summer workshop things, and wanted to show you what I did. I also wanted to run some ideas by you to see if you thought they were possible. I mean, I probably won't be able to do them for a while, but I figure if I start trying to figure them out now then by the time I can maybe they won't be so hard."
Alex offers a shrug. "Sure, I can take a look. But I can tell you right now that there are good odds that whatever it is, it's probably possible. It's magic. Most anything is possible. The problem isn't whether or not it's possible, the problem is whether or not it's worth it. If it takes ten years and a billion dollars to build it, or just hiring a crew of mercs to handle it for you? That really isn't much of a choice. Just as an example. To bring it a little closer to home, right now I am about seventy thousand dollars into a magical engine redesign for our ship, between what we had to pay the contractors and the stuff I've put together. I think it will be really cool. I truly believe that. But I have at least another week to go on it probably, and before we are done rewiring everything and getting the big batteries on the boat and everything Jenny tells me it'll be something like another two hundred thousand dollars."
She rolls her shoulders, still stiff from the long hours she's been putting in.
"To put it in perspective, we're putting more money into this refit than we would probably have spent on diesel for the next fifty years, for as much as we're likely to use the thing. Is it really worth it? Probably not. If I had really considered all the angles before we started I wouldn't have bothered. But I was on a high from finishing the Truck and decided to go for it like an idiot. You can find a lot of your decisions as an artificer end up being based on this. Just real basic cost and time analysis. Is it worth it? Is there a better, cheaper, easier, or more long-term cost-effective way to get this done?"
Dawn nods thoughtfully. Then she slides over a small cloth bag full of objects she had made at the workshops. "I made these. I wanted your opinion on if they could be enchanted. You told me once that in order for stuff to be enchanted it had to be "Masterwork."
Alex nods and opens the bag, removing a few of the items.
She sighs. She can see where Dawn tried, she really can. But either she wasn't getting it or whoever was teaching her didn't know enough to be teaching the class. In either case, Dawn's hopeful look starts to sour as she sees the slight frown on Alex's face as she slowly starts pointing out the myriad of flaws. Leather that wasn't cut or punched quite right, and stitching that is just slightly off. When Alex looks up at her and sees the look on Dawn's face is nearing despair she nearly laughs.
"Calm down, Dawn. Yes, you have a lot to learn. But you've also obviously learned a lot. You know a bit about the tools that are used, you've gone out and put those tools to use creatively to make some stuff. No, it isn't great stuff, but it's also your first attempt. And now that you have a little bit of an idea of what you're doing, you can spend some time with me here in the shop and I'll try to teach you the tricks of the trade. We'll probably start with cloth and leather. You won't have much reason to learn to forge for a while anyway, but cloth and leather will be useful relatively soon. It's also the easiest way to make money I've found. If we can get you trained up good so you know for sure what you're doing by the time you can make your first homunculus, we can ask Willow or Jenny to set you up with a website and you can sell belts or hats or something online. Not sure your mom would want you meeting local customers on the Hellmouth, but anything that can be made in generic sizes would be fine. What are these ideas you wanted to know about?"
Dawn points at her notebook. "Well, they're in there. The first one is kinda strange. But you know how you always say that your Wrights know what you do? Well, I got to thinking one night while you were gone how slick it would be if you could reverse that too? I mean, you have what, six of them? Seven, now? So if you wanted to learn new stuff, for example, and you had one learn botany while another was learning astronomy, and another was learning how to fly an airplane, and then you knew all these things because they did?"
Alexis finds her jaw just kinda slowly dropping open as she considers for a moment whether or not that would even be feasible. Technically the mental connection they share is a two-way street. It isn't really designed for that. But...
"Huh. Dawn, I'm gonna be honest with you here. I have no idea if that's possible or not."
She frowns as something occurs to her.
"Let me rephrase. I suspect that it is possible, and the reason that it generally isn't done is that forging that close a mind link with a construct that is ultimately that fragile is probably not a good idea in the long run. I'm not saying it isn't worth looking into, heck, I don't mind saying I'm intrigued myself. Speeding up the learning process like that sounds awesome. But with just the connection I have now if one dies, it's the equivalent pain of having me left hanging upside down in the gym for the heavyweights to use my noggin as a speed bag for a while. Forging a connection like you're talking about might be lethal if something went wrong, never mind if one got destroyed."
Dawn slips her tongue just barely outside her teeth as she thinks, tapping her pencil against the notepad.
"So it would have to be something you could toggle on and off then, probably. Hmm. Well, anyway, the next thought I had was when I was totally not listening to you and Dr. Walsh talking at one point from behind the couch when you might not have known I was there. And if I was I didn't mean to be."
Alex just grins. "You're forgiven. What's the idea?"
Dawn nods. "Well, she was wanting to know if you could put together a 'heat metal' device that would activate and target based on a computer input so she could experiment with it. And I thought that idea was pretty cool, but I thought her application was kind of lame. See, because what I would do with that is strap something to my arm that would let me hit a button or a quick sequence of buttons and have a preset number of effects go off from those 'eternal wands' you build that would be built into a backpack or something. So if I find I am in a fight, I hit a three-button sequence, and all of a sudden I'm stronger, faster, tougher, harder to hit, flying, and invisible until I hit somebody. All at once. Because the computer did the activation and the targeting. If something hits me and I'm feeling hurt bad, I can just hit the big red button and it'll start healing me until I hit the button again or I have no wands with charges left. See what I mean? Same with poison issues. You could even make some of it voice-activated in case you were being held down. And I could have a readout to let me know what I have available and stuff."
Once again Alex is shaking her head and absolutely at a loss for words. Is that possible?
Yes. Probably. The tricky part would be getting the backpack unit capable of using an eternal wand, or some other wondrous, two charge-a-day items that took their place. The pack itself would likely end up being a homunculus in its own right, or at least some level of construct.
"That might be doable. But it'd be tricky. We'll have to get serious with the design work on something like that, how about we don't stress on that one until we can get Jenny in the room. We'd need her on board for that one anyway." She offers Dawn a huge smile. "These are really good, Dawn! Even if we never build 'em, stuff like this is why I figured you'd be a good fit for an artificer! What else have you got?"
She shrugs. "Nothing else defined enough to really run with yet that's new, but I did think of a way I might be able to help with patrols. Maybe. If it works."
Alexis frowns. She isn't a fan of her helping with patrols before she has homunculus of her own to do it for her. "Yeah? And how's that? And what needs to work?"
Dawn flips three pages ahead in her little notebook.
"Well, first I would need to know if a flying carpet can still fly if you sandwich it between a couple of big boards or something, build a little hut over it. And second I need to know if you can make that invisible once it's done. Then all we need is all the slayers able to be invisible, and me of course, and I can fly people in and out. Maybe come down between fights and read a scroll or two."
Alexis shakes her head. "Won't work. They can't carry the kind of weight you're talking about. Even the big ones won't deal well with a full patrol after weapons and armor are included."
Dawn just looks at her like she's mentally deficient. "All three slayers together probably weigh less than ninety pounds even all decked out when they're in small size. I don't see the problem. We make a little invisible aircar out of it and we always have a way out. Heck, if we ever did build one of the big carpets and this actually worked, we could lay out portable holes in it for accessible storage and install immovable rods for when we wanted to stay in one spot for a while for a flying base. Kinda. It'd be a small one, but even still. Base. Flying. My idea."
Alexis hangs her head. She really should have thought of that.
"We'll have to experiment on whether it'll fly bound up like that, I honestly don't know. Anything else?"
Dawn gets an extremely uncomfortable look on her face and as she is putting her stuff back in her bag she mumbles out:
"I might have accidentally convinced Melinda to try to be a Cleric of Janus and she might have actually succeeded and is casting first-level spells now."
Alex looks back up at her like her eyeballs had rubber stretched from her pupils to Dawn's lips.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Dawn sighs and slumps on the bench.
"She read the gamebooks, Alexis. She figured out pretty easy what was going on with you and me, would have I think even if we hadn't basically told her everything. So she took what we told her and read the books and decided that of the base classes, the best chance she had against a relentless assault of undead would be a Cleric."
Alex gives a begrudging nod. "Well, I can't fault her logic so far."
"She brought it to me, and she just seemed so desperate. She has been dumped on so many times by her family, the system, and then the junk that infests this town. She just wants a way to defend herself. They both do. So she asked about gods that would be interested in a Cleric. Like, a real one. I told her that the only god I knew of that I could verify would even touch these books was Janus. So she did her research, made her holy symbol, and then she and Jeffery both started in on it. It's harder to tell with him, but I know she's casting spells. So, I just wanted to warn you before it surprised you. It's my fault. They didn't do it to mess with you."
Seeing her misery, Alexis steps closer and wraps the younger girl in a hug.
"It's okay. If you'd asked me a year and a half ago? I'd have probably said Janus was all about evil and chaos. But these days I'm not so sure anymore. I can't say I am always a huge fan of his methods. But for the most part, his results in my life have been pretty good."
Releasing her and placing her hands on her shoulders, she looks at her with a lopsided grin. "Besides. Everybody knows you have to be nice to the party cleric, doesn't matter what god they worship. Having the primary healer pissed off at you is always a bad plan."
>>>>
Thanks for reading!
Apprentice.
>>>>
>> The Ship, August 18. 3:30 PM.
This seemed like such a good idea when she conceived of it, she thinks sourly as she grumbles at how long the final refit is taking. She'd had the Wrights continue the 'construct' engine for the Ship while she was working on the Rig for a week and a half. The same engine they had been painstakingly putting pieces together for in one of the portable holes for over a month already. At least the first half of it, the part that all it does is spin around and connect to pulleys and cranks and such to use all that power effectively. It seemed a good use of time. One working on that eight hours a day.
And if she'd actually done the work on the ship, she's sure it would be fine. But somehow, even though technically the engineers followed the plan everything is still off just enough that getting everything to fit in the space provided and line up correctly is proving to be the unholiest of bitches ever. Especially with Jenny nowhere to be found to assist.
Alex frowns as she absent-mindedly sends out the next batch of mental commands to her workers. Giles fucked up, and Jenny is mothering him a bit while keeping him on a short leash. But unfortunately, after what she and Willow had pulled on Buffy's birthday last year, she really isn't in a position to call him out on it. The slayers and Diana were, if not over the moon, at least pleased that there was somebody willing to kill for them, and Joyce made the man a batch of cookies when she learned what it was all about.
Checking the time, she decides to call it a day for herself at least. The Wrights can keep at it. With luck they can have the engine settled in, the major furnishings of the crew quarters, wheelhouse, and the mess all handled by the weekend. The tiny little bull crap that needs to get put together will take forever, but at that point, the ship will be basically good to go except for electrical appliances and the generator, and she'll definitely need help from Jenny for that one. The engine in this thing turns a screw to move the boat, sure. But it should also have enough power to effectively supply enough juice to power a small town on top of that once a major generator has been hooked up to that same wheel. Electricity shouldn't be an issue onboard, but getting all the breakers and resistors and whatever squared away makes her head hurt at the math.
Joyce was right. College will be good for her. As annoying as that is.
Heading up to the deck of the ship she gets on the one concession she has made for herself in the last four days. She spent an afternoon three days ago buying a moped. Having to get a taxi the other morning was highly annoying, and a moped is light enough that with her belt on she can lift it on and off the cabin cruiser. Strapping her helmet on, she enjoys the five-minute ride home.
>>>>
>> The Shop. 8 PM.
Alexis yawns. She isn't really all that tired, but she has been getting up pretty early the last few days. Dawn asked to meet in her shop after dinner tonight though, and technically she is an apprentice, so it's kind of important to be there for her.
About five after the door opens and Dawn enters. She looks somewhere between excited and annoyed.
Exoyed? Annited?
She'll work on it.
"C'mon in and pull up a bit of bench Dawn. What did you need?"
Dawn walks into the room and sits at the bench, on the long side of the table while Alexis is at the head. But she is quite close and scoots over so she can pull things out of the bag she brought with her to show Alexis. A few items, and a notebook.
"Well, While you were off on vacation I did a bunch of stuff including classes and summer workshop things, and wanted to show you what I did. I also wanted to run some ideas by you to see if you thought they were possible. I mean, I probably won't be able to do them for a while, but I figure if I start trying to figure them out now then by the time I can maybe they won't be so hard."
Alex offers a shrug. "Sure, I can take a look. But I can tell you right now that there are good odds that whatever it is, it's probably possible. It's magic. Most anything is possible. The problem isn't whether or not it's possible, the problem is whether or not it's worth it. If it takes ten years and a billion dollars to build it, or just hiring a crew of mercs to handle it for you? That really isn't much of a choice. Just as an example. To bring it a little closer to home, right now I am about seventy thousand dollars into a magical engine redesign for our ship, between what we had to pay the contractors and the stuff I've put together. I think it will be really cool. I truly believe that. But I have at least another week to go on it probably, and before we are done rewiring everything and getting the big batteries on the boat and everything Jenny tells me it'll be something like another two hundred thousand dollars."
She rolls her shoulders, still stiff from the long hours she's been putting in.
"To put it in perspective, we're putting more money into this refit than we would probably have spent on diesel for the next fifty years, for as much as we're likely to use the thing. Is it really worth it? Probably not. If I had really considered all the angles before we started I wouldn't have bothered. But I was on a high from finishing the Truck and decided to go for it like an idiot. You can find a lot of your decisions as an artificer end up being based on this. Just real basic cost and time analysis. Is it worth it? Is there a better, cheaper, easier, or more long-term cost-effective way to get this done?"
Dawn nods thoughtfully. Then she slides over a small cloth bag full of objects she had made at the workshops. "I made these. I wanted your opinion on if they could be enchanted. You told me once that in order for stuff to be enchanted it had to be "Masterwork."
Alex nods and opens the bag, removing a few of the items.
She sighs. She can see where Dawn tried, she really can. But either she wasn't getting it or whoever was teaching her didn't know enough to be teaching the class. In either case, Dawn's hopeful look starts to sour as she sees the slight frown on Alex's face as she slowly starts pointing out the myriad of flaws. Leather that wasn't cut or punched quite right, and stitching that is just slightly off. When Alex looks up at her and sees the look on Dawn's face is nearing despair she nearly laughs.
"Calm down, Dawn. Yes, you have a lot to learn. But you've also obviously learned a lot. You know a bit about the tools that are used, you've gone out and put those tools to use creatively to make some stuff. No, it isn't great stuff, but it's also your first attempt. And now that you have a little bit of an idea of what you're doing, you can spend some time with me here in the shop and I'll try to teach you the tricks of the trade. We'll probably start with cloth and leather. You won't have much reason to learn to forge for a while anyway, but cloth and leather will be useful relatively soon. It's also the easiest way to make money I've found. If we can get you trained up good so you know for sure what you're doing by the time you can make your first homunculus, we can ask Willow or Jenny to set you up with a website and you can sell belts or hats or something online. Not sure your mom would want you meeting local customers on the Hellmouth, but anything that can be made in generic sizes would be fine. What are these ideas you wanted to know about?"
Dawn points at her notebook. "Well, they're in there. The first one is kinda strange. But you know how you always say that your Wrights know what you do? Well, I got to thinking one night while you were gone how slick it would be if you could reverse that too? I mean, you have what, six of them? Seven, now? So if you wanted to learn new stuff, for example, and you had one learn botany while another was learning astronomy, and another was learning how to fly an airplane, and then you knew all these things because they did?"
Alexis finds her jaw just kinda slowly dropping open as she considers for a moment whether or not that would even be feasible. Technically the mental connection they share is a two-way street. It isn't really designed for that. But...
"Huh. Dawn, I'm gonna be honest with you here. I have no idea if that's possible or not."
She frowns as something occurs to her.
"Let me rephrase. I suspect that it is possible, and the reason that it generally isn't done is that forging that close a mind link with a construct that is ultimately that fragile is probably not a good idea in the long run. I'm not saying it isn't worth looking into, heck, I don't mind saying I'm intrigued myself. Speeding up the learning process like that sounds awesome. But with just the connection I have now if one dies, it's the equivalent pain of having me left hanging upside down in the gym for the heavyweights to use my noggin as a speed bag for a while. Forging a connection like you're talking about might be lethal if something went wrong, never mind if one got destroyed."
Dawn slips her tongue just barely outside her teeth as she thinks, tapping her pencil against the notepad.
"So it would have to be something you could toggle on and off then, probably. Hmm. Well, anyway, the next thought I had was when I was totally not listening to you and Dr. Walsh talking at one point from behind the couch when you might not have known I was there. And if I was I didn't mean to be."
Alex just grins. "You're forgiven. What's the idea?"
Dawn nods. "Well, she was wanting to know if you could put together a 'heat metal' device that would activate and target based on a computer input so she could experiment with it. And I thought that idea was pretty cool, but I thought her application was kind of lame. See, because what I would do with that is strap something to my arm that would let me hit a button or a quick sequence of buttons and have a preset number of effects go off from those 'eternal wands' you build that would be built into a backpack or something. So if I find I am in a fight, I hit a three-button sequence, and all of a sudden I'm stronger, faster, tougher, harder to hit, flying, and invisible until I hit somebody. All at once. Because the computer did the activation and the targeting. If something hits me and I'm feeling hurt bad, I can just hit the big red button and it'll start healing me until I hit the button again or I have no wands with charges left. See what I mean? Same with poison issues. You could even make some of it voice-activated in case you were being held down. And I could have a readout to let me know what I have available and stuff."
Once again Alex is shaking her head and absolutely at a loss for words. Is that possible?
Yes. Probably. The tricky part would be getting the backpack unit capable of using an eternal wand, or some other wondrous, two charge-a-day items that took their place. The pack itself would likely end up being a homunculus in its own right, or at least some level of construct.
"That might be doable. But it'd be tricky. We'll have to get serious with the design work on something like that, how about we don't stress on that one until we can get Jenny in the room. We'd need her on board for that one anyway." She offers Dawn a huge smile. "These are really good, Dawn! Even if we never build 'em, stuff like this is why I figured you'd be a good fit for an artificer! What else have you got?"
She shrugs. "Nothing else defined enough to really run with yet that's new, but I did think of a way I might be able to help with patrols. Maybe. If it works."
Alexis frowns. She isn't a fan of her helping with patrols before she has homunculus of her own to do it for her. "Yeah? And how's that? And what needs to work?"
Dawn flips three pages ahead in her little notebook.
"Well, first I would need to know if a flying carpet can still fly if you sandwich it between a couple of big boards or something, build a little hut over it. And second I need to know if you can make that invisible once it's done. Then all we need is all the slayers able to be invisible, and me of course, and I can fly people in and out. Maybe come down between fights and read a scroll or two."
Alexis shakes her head. "Won't work. They can't carry the kind of weight you're talking about. Even the big ones won't deal well with a full patrol after weapons and armor are included."
Dawn just looks at her like she's mentally deficient. "All three slayers together probably weigh less than ninety pounds even all decked out when they're in small size. I don't see the problem. We make a little invisible aircar out of it and we always have a way out. Heck, if we ever did build one of the big carpets and this actually worked, we could lay out portable holes in it for accessible storage and install immovable rods for when we wanted to stay in one spot for a while for a flying base. Kinda. It'd be a small one, but even still. Base. Flying. My idea."
Alexis hangs her head. She really should have thought of that.
"We'll have to experiment on whether it'll fly bound up like that, I honestly don't know. Anything else?"
Dawn gets an extremely uncomfortable look on her face and as she is putting her stuff back in her bag she mumbles out:
"I might have accidentally convinced Melinda to try to be a Cleric of Janus and she might have actually succeeded and is casting first-level spells now."
Alex looks back up at her like her eyeballs had rubber stretched from her pupils to Dawn's lips.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Dawn sighs and slumps on the bench.
"She read the gamebooks, Alexis. She figured out pretty easy what was going on with you and me, would have I think even if we hadn't basically told her everything. So she took what we told her and read the books and decided that of the base classes, the best chance she had against a relentless assault of undead would be a Cleric."
Alex gives a begrudging nod. "Well, I can't fault her logic so far."
"She brought it to me, and she just seemed so desperate. She has been dumped on so many times by her family, the system, and then the junk that infests this town. She just wants a way to defend herself. They both do. So she asked about gods that would be interested in a Cleric. Like, a real one. I told her that the only god I knew of that I could verify would even touch these books was Janus. So she did her research, made her holy symbol, and then she and Jeffery both started in on it. It's harder to tell with him, but I know she's casting spells. So, I just wanted to warn you before it surprised you. It's my fault. They didn't do it to mess with you."
Seeing her misery, Alexis steps closer and wraps the younger girl in a hug.
"It's okay. If you'd asked me a year and a half ago? I'd have probably said Janus was all about evil and chaos. But these days I'm not so sure anymore. I can't say I am always a huge fan of his methods. But for the most part, his results in my life have been pretty good."
Releasing her and placing her hands on her shoulders, she looks at her with a lopsided grin. "Besides. Everybody knows you have to be nice to the party cleric, doesn't matter what god they worship. Having the primary healer pissed off at you is always a bad plan."
>>>>
Thanks for reading!
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The Cave of Semi-Eternal Stench.
Chapter 96
The Cave of Semi-Eternal Stench.
>>>>
>> The House. August 26. 7 PM.
For the first time in quite a while, the whole house is actually bothering with a meeting before the patrol. Just the people that live there. It's fair to say that between the ascension, the vacations that various people had taken, the work outside the house, and of course the interference here and there in their lives by the Initiative... Well, they haven't had the stereotypical family meeting for a while. As is generally the case, Giles gets the ball rolling. Though he is perhaps a bit more hesitant than he might normally be.
"First, thank you all for being here. And let me start by offering an apology for my recent actions." He frowns. "Not for defending our lives, but as it was pointed out to me quite forcefully by my wife, for doing so alone and for not telling anyone else what I was doing. In the future, should I come across information like that again, I shall endeavor to be more forthcoming with its distribution."
He lets that disseminate a bit through the group. At this point, everybody knows what happened. Or at least thinks they do, Alex considers wryly.
Ripper really went on quite the tear, after all. And she's still the only one that lives in the house that has any idea just how much of a tear. At least as far as she knows. Her eyes dart back to Giles as he starts talking again.
"Many of you will have school again soon that will eat into your time for making money or patrol. Please let us know your needs. There are enough of us here that there is no need for anyone to be unduly stressed, and should you need any assistance, there is a wealth of education at your disposal. Though I'll admit that many of our memories, methods, and coursework may not meet the standards you require we will do the best for you that we are able."
He takes a moment to clean his glasses as he nods to Alexis. "You had a few words?"
Alex nods. "Yup. A bunch of stuff, actually. First, aside from the pool area and a few bits of electronics, like the arcade I want, the Rig is done. All I am waiting on now is the teleport pads, and they are getting built now. Still have at least another month. But we ran into a slight problem while I was on vacation of how people were going to get on board if I wasn't there. So, what I did was add the ability for an unseen servant to open the door so you can get a boat in. Like a magical garage door opener. But it has to be one of mine, and you have to be pretty much at the door because the controls are twenty feet on the other side of it. So anybody that has one of those talismans right now, which I believe is six of you? Can get in with the punch code, which I'm passing off to pretty much everybody here that can drive the boat. Don't lose the paper. It's a sixteen-digit number for a reason. I'm hoping if somebody steals it they'll think it's a credit card number."
Alexis takes a moment to lean back and Willow puts her head on Alex's shoulder. A quick smile, and then she's talking again.
"Also, the engine on the boat is in and secured, and I have the main generator hooked up to it. I also went ahead and did what I can in the living spaces and armory, shop, and such. But now I need you to call back your guys, Jenny, to finish up the major wiring and hooking up this new ship's ballast worth of batteries that I guess we're using."
Jenny laughs. "It's not quite that bad."
Alex raises an eyebrow.
Jenny just smirks. "We are adding enough batteries to power the screws and the rest of the ship for up to seven days of at least minimal use with the expected load we are going to have on it, at the expected draft. I'm told that is going to come to something like a twenty-six-ton battery backup. Which admittedly is a really big battery. But it still isn't as big volume-wise as the fuel tanks we got rid of, and it might even fit in the water tanks we got rid of. Remember, this is a small oceangoing cargo vessel. That just means that it usually doesn't haul more than twenty thousand tons of cargo. We have a lot of leeway to work with given what we are going to be doing with it."
Alex nods. "Fair. One of those 'better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it' kinda deals. Forgive me for just hoping my engine doesn't fail."
Jenny laughs. "Your engine is about the only thing on the boat I am pretty secure of. That said if we didn't already have plans to put a backup generator on board that we could toggle over to if we had to I'll admit I'd be pretty worried."
Alex nods. "Anyways, I've also completed the basic kits for the first ten guys Linmeyer sent. I tried to downplay my own abilities a bit, or at least not brag about them or anybody else here, but who knows what gets shared over there. The only other big thing on my agenda before school starts for reals in two weeks is taking a delivery tomorrow at the docks to replace a lot of things I've used up over the summer. I'd like an escort for that if I can get it, the more the merrier. There's a bit of money involved. And then in three days, I told the Frog brothers we could finally check out their nasty cave of eternal stench. You know, assuming anybody else is interested."
Buffy gives her a curious look. "What are you picking up at the docks?"
Alex shrugs. "Just stuff I need to make all the things I do. I need to go out to the customs station and sign off on a cargo container. I'll probably need to rent a box truck too since I think I'd rather people saw a moving van driving around town than wonder what was getting delivered here in a cargo container. With as fast as I've had to be producing since last November Jenny and I have been getting one of these shipments every few months, but this one is particularly big, thanks to that check from the Initiative for my 'medical consulting" allowing me to be a little more free with some of my funds than I might have otherwise."
She pulls a small spiral notebook out of the back pocket of her cutoff jean shorts with some difficulty and flips some pages. "Let's see. In this shipment, I am getting in the gold and platinum wiring. Quite a bit of each, really. A bit of bar stock, but the wiring is easier to work with and really, when you are dealing with price points like this the extra they charge to make it wire is so negligible and it makes things so much easier that it's just worth doing it. Less impressive, but there's also some silver, bronze, brass, copper, tin, and a pallet of some stuff they're mining in East Asia that they are calling 'deep iron' that the local occultists are all abuzz about. I'm not hopeful, but I thought I'd spend some money to find out. Assorted uncut gemstones of various grades. A lot of times it's a waste for me to get really good gems as I'm just gonna powder them or sacrifice them. But every once in a while I need the good stuff. So, variety. A few good-sized pieces of wood in types that are really expensive and really tough to get in this part of the world at any kind of reasonable size. Mostly ebony, but there's a few others."
She frowns.
"I actually considered trying to put together the means to make my own gemstones, since we know the science for it and hey, magic. But you would not believe the legalities involved in owning something like that and in the end I didn't want to take the risk that some cop thought I was trying to pass them off as real when I put them in stuff. Could cause all kinds of trouble for us. I swear, the next time somebody tells you that diamonds are only expensive because douchebags keep them rare on purpose? I say believe it." Then she glances back down to her notes.
"I have a couple of pallets coming in of just grab bag stuff. Things I wanted to try alloying with other things that have been tried here and people couldn't get it to work, but the idea was good and I think with magic I could. So cobalt and a couple of derivatives and..." She looks around the room and sees the glaze coming over them all. She clears her throat.
"Sorry. All told the shipment comes to just a smidgen over one and a half million dollars. It wipes out the last of the money I made from that stupid art show last year plus a little, but we're doing pretty good these days so whatever. It isn't like the stuff won't get used. But honestly, until I have it all hidden away nice and tight like I said I wouldn't turn down an escort tomorrow."
She gets a lot of raised hands.
Alexis turns back to the Slayers once they have the shipment pickup volunteers sorted. "So, we don't know how long this cave is going to take. But they said they went in quite a ways and didn't see an end to it, so we should assume it goes deep. At least a day maybe? Count ourselves lucky if it's quicker? My point is that I don't think it would be a good idea to haul everybody off the Hellmouth, and given the kind of thing we could be walking into I was hoping we could have one of you ex-Watchers around. We might need your expertise."
Kendra gives Alexis a rather stubborn look. "I'm going."
Giles frowns. "Given my current notoriety, I don't think it is plausible that I could be elsewhere without an entourage courtesy of Ackers. While I would love to be of assistance, perhaps you'd best take Diana with you if you want a Watcher's skill set along."
Joyce glances around, looking confused. "Not that I'm happy he's stalking you Rupert, but wouldn't a few more friendlies on-site be a good thing?"
Alexis, Giles, and Diana share an uneasy look. Diana elaborates.
"We don't want to worry anyone, it really is probably nothing. And legitimately it is the kind of thing we likely would have simply destroyed anyway. But Henry has shown recently that he is not considering the sharing of information between our organizations to be a two-way street. When it involves some canisters of some form of demonic fish mutagen, that is highly disturbing. But unlikely to cause Armageddon. But we are investigating the probable cause of the rupture of a Hellmouth echo fault. That is the very definition of a possible cataclysmic event in the making. Were they to find and then hide something from us, it could literally cause the end of all life on the planet. I would genuinely rather ignore it than show them where it is and pray they leave it alone, and I suspect I am not alone in this."
Giles nods. "I am afraid I have to concur. The sad part is that I suspect at least half of the problem the director is having is that he is attempting to compartmentalize his operation to the point that we as a group appear in as little of it as possible for our own benefit. But to do that and still feel he has the control he needs, he is being a bit tactless and rather... well, dangerous. Well-meaning or not. Until he has his ducks lined up, as they say, I suspect he will be difficult to work with."
Faith breaks in at this point. "Well, if you're taking Diana you get me too. So it looks like it's Kendra, Me, D', Al, and her toys along for the ride if you want to make sure you have some people here to hold down the fort."
Buffy's face twists into a grimace, obviously not liking the idea of being left behind. Desia doesn't appear thrilled either but is always much better about hiding her emotions than anyone else at the house.
>>>>
>> The Cave. 8 AM.
Thankfully the materials pickup had gone fine, Alex grumbles in the back of her mind as the four of them enter the cave. Just to see, she'd taken a quick sniff before she activated her choker. You know, curious and stuff. With her body just inside the entrance.
Her stomach went into immediate and violent revolt. If the rest of this cave is anything like the smell, she is not going to want to deal with petty bureaucrats after this. Glad to have gotten the delivery out of the way.
"Not trying to be an ass here Diana, but explain to me again why you and I are not waiting in the car with the Frog brothers while the Amazon wunderkinds here just clear the evil out?"
Diana merely continues forward, maintaining a pace that is about thirty feet behind Faith. She is using one of Alex's five-shot crossbows and has a short sword at her side. A watcher's issue sword, Alex notes in mild disgust.
She'll have to fix that if Diana is going to insist on this kind of thing.
After a few more steps, Diana speaks, though she isn't loud.
"When you met me in Boston, I admit that I was something of a joke for a field watcher. I don't begrudge you being shocked that I would try to follow her like this. But I trust my Slayer to keep me alive, and she trusts me to watch her back. I won't betray that trust. In Sunnydale, with lots of heroes, and set patrol routes, it's a different kettle of fish."
She glances behind them.
"But this is an entirely new problem. I'll not send her in here without me. I think we are deep enough for you to release your homunculus now."
Alex nods. She's actually carrying DW and Skite in a pet carrier, and the two Iron Defenders as well as her sole Furtive Filcher in the backpack.
DW seems fine with it, but Skite has been decidedly less than amused.
Diana speaks again as the homunculus start their scouting of the rather tight confines of the tunnel complex, which seems to vary between six and ten feet tall, though the footpath has been worn smooth by the many clawed feet that have trodden it.
"I thought the Frog brothers were going to come in as well? Wasn't that why you made them the black chokers?"
Alex grimaces distractedly as Skite comes across the long-dead remains of what must have been a child.
"Yeah, but we had a difference of opinion as to how to handle the problem. They wanted to get close enough to it to be sure we could block access to whatever is attracting them and then rig the place to collapse. We wanted to know what the hell was going on first. They said they'd come in and set the explosives when we were done 'dicking around'. They weren't big fans of spending any extra time in here."
Diana sighs. "With their success rate it's difficult to gainsay their approach to things, but I do find them frustrating to work with at times."
At this point, they can hear ahead of them the occasional scuffle as Faith and Kendra are mowing their way through the lesser demons that infest this pit. Alexis nods.
"Yeah, I hear ya. But in the end, they've probably killed more vampires than most Slayers do. It took them a lot longer, but even still. It's hard to argue with the results."
Alexis raises her arm and activates the flashlight built into it, the bright beam piercing the gloom much farther than the pseudo torches on their shoulders. The sound of fighting ahead gets more and more regular, and the homunculi get involved. After some time the Slayers, homunculi, ex-watcher, and artificer are backed into a short dead-end while what must be dozens of demons taunt them from around the corner. After a few minutes of this, with the demons not quite being willing to step out and get shot and the Slayers not thrilled about stepping around the corner to be swarmed, Alexis rolls her eyes.
"Faith, Kendra, these are mostly vamps, right?"
They both nod, and Kendra whispers. "Nearly all. I have seen only one that wasn't, and he is already dead."
Alex spends a minute flipping through her bag of eternal wands. She didn't make too many offensive eternal wands because the experience level of the caster didn't matter so much. It was kinda capped at the minimum. So they were more useful for spells that were all or nothing, like healing or unlocking doors. But there are a couple of old standbys that are just worth it to have around, and while using blast globes underground is a bad idea? A low-powered fireball is probably alright. Especially given how flammable vampires seem to be, and the fact that if the fire does happen to burn out all the oxygen here they kinda don't care.
Hooray magic items.
Waving the wand produces the small orange sphere that zips out sixty feet to explode against the far wall in a burst of flame, causing a rising tide of screams to assault their ears, and then it happens again when the second orange ball follows it moments later.
Because why not?
Giggling a little, Kendra and Faith carefully make their way around the corner and begin finishing off the blackened, crisping, and often still flaming vampires that would be screaming if they could get their lungs to work at all. Obviously, some on the outskirts ran away. But based on the dust on the floor, Faith bets they got most of them and calls Alex and Diana up.
It doesn't take long from there to find what this mob of vampires was defending.
As they enter the enormous, bowl-shaped room from a cave that enters at what would be seen as the lip of the bowl, Kendra and Faith both stop.
Faith points at the thing in the center of the room and turns back to Diana.
"DD, What in the fuck is that thing?"
Diana Dormer, one of the most highly educated people on the face of the planet on all things demon related, looks at the thing in the center of this room and shudders. It sticks out of the center of the floor of this huge almost perfectly circular cavern. It's easily seventy feet tall still but was obviously once even taller. It is rotting. Most of its flesh is a putrid gray, but what is left would seem to indicate that this was once the head. Just the head and a bit of neck. Of something vaguely snakelike, and absolutely gigantic. And then Diana sees something that makes her nearly vomit, even breathing all of this nice, clean air that Alex's Choker supplies her.
The eye that they can see, which is about twenty feet up from the floor. It moves.
Blinded, obviously. Partially from the decay and exacerbated from what they are recognizing now as they all step closer, entranced by the thing, as almost eighty years worth of vampire bites that have slowly, a trickle at a time, been stealing the vital essence from what she can only assume is a trapped Old One. How it got trapped, she has no idea.
"I think this is an Old One, Faith. A very serious demon. What it's doing here I couldn't say, but we should kill it before the local vampires can grow any stronger on it or it manages to secure its freedom."
Kendra makes a move to step towards it and Diana all but yells.
"Stop! No. Don't get too close unless we have no choice. Who knows what kinds of evils you could pick up from something like this. Even one in this kind of shape. Perhaps the Frog brothers could bring down their explosives."
Alexis shakes her head. "No way. We walked at least a good two miles. We're right back under the center of town and look at the size of this place. It's a good three or four hundred feet across at least. You blow anything up down here, we are going to drop a big chunk of town right in this hole, kill a lot of people. This jerk-off probably caused the quake when he got stuck down here in the first place. Let me give it a shot first. I have a schema and my last two scrolls of 'Disintegrate.' We'll see if I can just take him out that way, he looks to be in pretty bad shape but is technically still alive. Theoretically, If I do enough damage to take him out it should reduce him to a fine powder that isn't cohesive enough to be evil."
Alexis then pulls out the schema, and after a moments thought, puts the Homunculus back in their carrying cases.
"How about if you guys go stand by the cave entrance? If I need to get out quick, I have a bolt shirt like the Slayers do. Between that and running, I can catch up."
Diana backs up slowly to the cave entrance with Faith, looking very perturbed. "Do you expect problems?"
Alexis shrugs. "No. But I am about to poke an Old One in the eye. Plans. First contact with the enemy and all that jazz. Kendra? Are you heading over there?"
She shakes her head. "I have a Bolt Shirt as well. And Diana has her guardian, should the worst take place. You need yours."
Rather than argue, Alex just nods.
She never wins these kinds of arguments with Kendra or Willow anyway.
She reads the mystical words of the schema, and the thin green beam of purest destructive energy lances out. For the merest moment, the slightest bit of held breath, it almost seems as though the miserable behemoth was going to resist. But then with a sound that almost seemed like a thank you, it begins to collapse into dust.
What Alexis and Kendra were not counting on, what they probably could not have counted on, was that by standing only fifty feet away, they were caught in an overpowering vortex of air when the two thousand foot long creature that was tied in knots in the rock strata below them suddenly ceased to be and sucked them down.
The other thing they couldn't have accounted for was the portal that had originally introduced the creature still being held slightly open. Open enough to accept the two of them, anyway. Held that way by the flesh of an Old One for these many long years.
And finally, they couldn't have accounted for that portal snapping shut with a sound that, if one were to hold one's head at just the right angle, could be mistaken for a laughing smirk.
>>>>
>>Somewhere that mortals are generally not welcome.
"Two, we have gotten in our trap most devious. The Slayer Kendra, who Dead should be, and the powerless boy Alexander, who is neither boy nor powerless."
The power, this one male in seeming, steps away from the viewing pool. "Two only remain and a smattering of the foul gifts. Difficult it will be, but the Balance can be regained."
Another of the powers, this one female in countenance, gives her peer an incredulous look. "In what way do you possibly see sending those two there to be the same as helping the balance? And how do you intend to keep them there?"
The first collects a glass of wine. "That which once was the powerless boy Alexander has surprised us many times, but travel unaided between dimensions is not possible. Even by him."
The female snorts as she collects her own glass. "She who is no longer a boy has been chosen and aided by Janus, a god of among other things, Doorways. And you are a fool. But I shall enjoy watching your downfall."
>>>>
>> Somewhere at the limits of the Earth and the extremity of Heaven, a peculiar-looking man with two faces raises two eyebrows at seeing what has befallen his champion and then overhears the plans of some lesser minions of the Balance.
Then he laughs.
>>>>
>> Somewhere that they have no fucking clue where or when it is.
Kendra and Alexis find themselves half dragging each other onto the beach, and it's only due to the armor mods that have been made since they purchased the Rig that they both made the swim at all without having to ditch everything they own. As it was, Skite and DW were rather annoyed. They ended up having to break out of the cloth pet carrier and make their way to the beach themselves, which as neither was built for swimming was less than pleasant. Fortunately, none of them started too far out. Deciding that the two-mile swim in full armor, even with all the good mods, is a good enough reason for a break, and given the fact that they went from a cave to a beach? Alexis releases the Iron Defenders again and puts one on each of them for bodyguard duty.
Then while Skite tries to dry out and DW angrily buzzes around their general area looking for something to shoot in his irritation, they catch their breath.
After making sure all of their stuff is there, verifying that they are both alright and that they absolutely do not know where they are, they both lay down on the sand. Comfortable enough when you have a device that will easily clean it up again. But it is this action, more than anything else, that ultimately causes Alexis the most concern.
"Kendra? Why the hell is there two suns?"
The Cave of Semi-Eternal Stench.
>>>>
>> The House. August 26. 7 PM.
For the first time in quite a while, the whole house is actually bothering with a meeting before the patrol. Just the people that live there. It's fair to say that between the ascension, the vacations that various people had taken, the work outside the house, and of course the interference here and there in their lives by the Initiative... Well, they haven't had the stereotypical family meeting for a while. As is generally the case, Giles gets the ball rolling. Though he is perhaps a bit more hesitant than he might normally be.
"First, thank you all for being here. And let me start by offering an apology for my recent actions." He frowns. "Not for defending our lives, but as it was pointed out to me quite forcefully by my wife, for doing so alone and for not telling anyone else what I was doing. In the future, should I come across information like that again, I shall endeavor to be more forthcoming with its distribution."
He lets that disseminate a bit through the group. At this point, everybody knows what happened. Or at least thinks they do, Alex considers wryly.
Ripper really went on quite the tear, after all. And she's still the only one that lives in the house that has any idea just how much of a tear. At least as far as she knows. Her eyes dart back to Giles as he starts talking again.
"Many of you will have school again soon that will eat into your time for making money or patrol. Please let us know your needs. There are enough of us here that there is no need for anyone to be unduly stressed, and should you need any assistance, there is a wealth of education at your disposal. Though I'll admit that many of our memories, methods, and coursework may not meet the standards you require we will do the best for you that we are able."
He takes a moment to clean his glasses as he nods to Alexis. "You had a few words?"
Alex nods. "Yup. A bunch of stuff, actually. First, aside from the pool area and a few bits of electronics, like the arcade I want, the Rig is done. All I am waiting on now is the teleport pads, and they are getting built now. Still have at least another month. But we ran into a slight problem while I was on vacation of how people were going to get on board if I wasn't there. So, what I did was add the ability for an unseen servant to open the door so you can get a boat in. Like a magical garage door opener. But it has to be one of mine, and you have to be pretty much at the door because the controls are twenty feet on the other side of it. So anybody that has one of those talismans right now, which I believe is six of you? Can get in with the punch code, which I'm passing off to pretty much everybody here that can drive the boat. Don't lose the paper. It's a sixteen-digit number for a reason. I'm hoping if somebody steals it they'll think it's a credit card number."
Alexis takes a moment to lean back and Willow puts her head on Alex's shoulder. A quick smile, and then she's talking again.
"Also, the engine on the boat is in and secured, and I have the main generator hooked up to it. I also went ahead and did what I can in the living spaces and armory, shop, and such. But now I need you to call back your guys, Jenny, to finish up the major wiring and hooking up this new ship's ballast worth of batteries that I guess we're using."
Jenny laughs. "It's not quite that bad."
Alex raises an eyebrow.
Jenny just smirks. "We are adding enough batteries to power the screws and the rest of the ship for up to seven days of at least minimal use with the expected load we are going to have on it, at the expected draft. I'm told that is going to come to something like a twenty-six-ton battery backup. Which admittedly is a really big battery. But it still isn't as big volume-wise as the fuel tanks we got rid of, and it might even fit in the water tanks we got rid of. Remember, this is a small oceangoing cargo vessel. That just means that it usually doesn't haul more than twenty thousand tons of cargo. We have a lot of leeway to work with given what we are going to be doing with it."
Alex nods. "Fair. One of those 'better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it' kinda deals. Forgive me for just hoping my engine doesn't fail."
Jenny laughs. "Your engine is about the only thing on the boat I am pretty secure of. That said if we didn't already have plans to put a backup generator on board that we could toggle over to if we had to I'll admit I'd be pretty worried."
Alex nods. "Anyways, I've also completed the basic kits for the first ten guys Linmeyer sent. I tried to downplay my own abilities a bit, or at least not brag about them or anybody else here, but who knows what gets shared over there. The only other big thing on my agenda before school starts for reals in two weeks is taking a delivery tomorrow at the docks to replace a lot of things I've used up over the summer. I'd like an escort for that if I can get it, the more the merrier. There's a bit of money involved. And then in three days, I told the Frog brothers we could finally check out their nasty cave of eternal stench. You know, assuming anybody else is interested."
Buffy gives her a curious look. "What are you picking up at the docks?"
Alex shrugs. "Just stuff I need to make all the things I do. I need to go out to the customs station and sign off on a cargo container. I'll probably need to rent a box truck too since I think I'd rather people saw a moving van driving around town than wonder what was getting delivered here in a cargo container. With as fast as I've had to be producing since last November Jenny and I have been getting one of these shipments every few months, but this one is particularly big, thanks to that check from the Initiative for my 'medical consulting" allowing me to be a little more free with some of my funds than I might have otherwise."
She pulls a small spiral notebook out of the back pocket of her cutoff jean shorts with some difficulty and flips some pages. "Let's see. In this shipment, I am getting in the gold and platinum wiring. Quite a bit of each, really. A bit of bar stock, but the wiring is easier to work with and really, when you are dealing with price points like this the extra they charge to make it wire is so negligible and it makes things so much easier that it's just worth doing it. Less impressive, but there's also some silver, bronze, brass, copper, tin, and a pallet of some stuff they're mining in East Asia that they are calling 'deep iron' that the local occultists are all abuzz about. I'm not hopeful, but I thought I'd spend some money to find out. Assorted uncut gemstones of various grades. A lot of times it's a waste for me to get really good gems as I'm just gonna powder them or sacrifice them. But every once in a while I need the good stuff. So, variety. A few good-sized pieces of wood in types that are really expensive and really tough to get in this part of the world at any kind of reasonable size. Mostly ebony, but there's a few others."
She frowns.
"I actually considered trying to put together the means to make my own gemstones, since we know the science for it and hey, magic. But you would not believe the legalities involved in owning something like that and in the end I didn't want to take the risk that some cop thought I was trying to pass them off as real when I put them in stuff. Could cause all kinds of trouble for us. I swear, the next time somebody tells you that diamonds are only expensive because douchebags keep them rare on purpose? I say believe it." Then she glances back down to her notes.
"I have a couple of pallets coming in of just grab bag stuff. Things I wanted to try alloying with other things that have been tried here and people couldn't get it to work, but the idea was good and I think with magic I could. So cobalt and a couple of derivatives and..." She looks around the room and sees the glaze coming over them all. She clears her throat.
"Sorry. All told the shipment comes to just a smidgen over one and a half million dollars. It wipes out the last of the money I made from that stupid art show last year plus a little, but we're doing pretty good these days so whatever. It isn't like the stuff won't get used. But honestly, until I have it all hidden away nice and tight like I said I wouldn't turn down an escort tomorrow."
She gets a lot of raised hands.
Alexis turns back to the Slayers once they have the shipment pickup volunteers sorted. "So, we don't know how long this cave is going to take. But they said they went in quite a ways and didn't see an end to it, so we should assume it goes deep. At least a day maybe? Count ourselves lucky if it's quicker? My point is that I don't think it would be a good idea to haul everybody off the Hellmouth, and given the kind of thing we could be walking into I was hoping we could have one of you ex-Watchers around. We might need your expertise."
Kendra gives Alexis a rather stubborn look. "I'm going."
Giles frowns. "Given my current notoriety, I don't think it is plausible that I could be elsewhere without an entourage courtesy of Ackers. While I would love to be of assistance, perhaps you'd best take Diana with you if you want a Watcher's skill set along."
Joyce glances around, looking confused. "Not that I'm happy he's stalking you Rupert, but wouldn't a few more friendlies on-site be a good thing?"
Alexis, Giles, and Diana share an uneasy look. Diana elaborates.
"We don't want to worry anyone, it really is probably nothing. And legitimately it is the kind of thing we likely would have simply destroyed anyway. But Henry has shown recently that he is not considering the sharing of information between our organizations to be a two-way street. When it involves some canisters of some form of demonic fish mutagen, that is highly disturbing. But unlikely to cause Armageddon. But we are investigating the probable cause of the rupture of a Hellmouth echo fault. That is the very definition of a possible cataclysmic event in the making. Were they to find and then hide something from us, it could literally cause the end of all life on the planet. I would genuinely rather ignore it than show them where it is and pray they leave it alone, and I suspect I am not alone in this."
Giles nods. "I am afraid I have to concur. The sad part is that I suspect at least half of the problem the director is having is that he is attempting to compartmentalize his operation to the point that we as a group appear in as little of it as possible for our own benefit. But to do that and still feel he has the control he needs, he is being a bit tactless and rather... well, dangerous. Well-meaning or not. Until he has his ducks lined up, as they say, I suspect he will be difficult to work with."
Faith breaks in at this point. "Well, if you're taking Diana you get me too. So it looks like it's Kendra, Me, D', Al, and her toys along for the ride if you want to make sure you have some people here to hold down the fort."
Buffy's face twists into a grimace, obviously not liking the idea of being left behind. Desia doesn't appear thrilled either but is always much better about hiding her emotions than anyone else at the house.
>>>>
>> The Cave. 8 AM.
Thankfully the materials pickup had gone fine, Alex grumbles in the back of her mind as the four of them enter the cave. Just to see, she'd taken a quick sniff before she activated her choker. You know, curious and stuff. With her body just inside the entrance.
Her stomach went into immediate and violent revolt. If the rest of this cave is anything like the smell, she is not going to want to deal with petty bureaucrats after this. Glad to have gotten the delivery out of the way.
"Not trying to be an ass here Diana, but explain to me again why you and I are not waiting in the car with the Frog brothers while the Amazon wunderkinds here just clear the evil out?"
Diana merely continues forward, maintaining a pace that is about thirty feet behind Faith. She is using one of Alex's five-shot crossbows and has a short sword at her side. A watcher's issue sword, Alex notes in mild disgust.
She'll have to fix that if Diana is going to insist on this kind of thing.
After a few more steps, Diana speaks, though she isn't loud.
"When you met me in Boston, I admit that I was something of a joke for a field watcher. I don't begrudge you being shocked that I would try to follow her like this. But I trust my Slayer to keep me alive, and she trusts me to watch her back. I won't betray that trust. In Sunnydale, with lots of heroes, and set patrol routes, it's a different kettle of fish."
She glances behind them.
"But this is an entirely new problem. I'll not send her in here without me. I think we are deep enough for you to release your homunculus now."
Alex nods. She's actually carrying DW and Skite in a pet carrier, and the two Iron Defenders as well as her sole Furtive Filcher in the backpack.
DW seems fine with it, but Skite has been decidedly less than amused.
Diana speaks again as the homunculus start their scouting of the rather tight confines of the tunnel complex, which seems to vary between six and ten feet tall, though the footpath has been worn smooth by the many clawed feet that have trodden it.
"I thought the Frog brothers were going to come in as well? Wasn't that why you made them the black chokers?"
Alex grimaces distractedly as Skite comes across the long-dead remains of what must have been a child.
"Yeah, but we had a difference of opinion as to how to handle the problem. They wanted to get close enough to it to be sure we could block access to whatever is attracting them and then rig the place to collapse. We wanted to know what the hell was going on first. They said they'd come in and set the explosives when we were done 'dicking around'. They weren't big fans of spending any extra time in here."
Diana sighs. "With their success rate it's difficult to gainsay their approach to things, but I do find them frustrating to work with at times."
At this point, they can hear ahead of them the occasional scuffle as Faith and Kendra are mowing their way through the lesser demons that infest this pit. Alexis nods.
"Yeah, I hear ya. But in the end, they've probably killed more vampires than most Slayers do. It took them a lot longer, but even still. It's hard to argue with the results."
Alexis raises her arm and activates the flashlight built into it, the bright beam piercing the gloom much farther than the pseudo torches on their shoulders. The sound of fighting ahead gets more and more regular, and the homunculi get involved. After some time the Slayers, homunculi, ex-watcher, and artificer are backed into a short dead-end while what must be dozens of demons taunt them from around the corner. After a few minutes of this, with the demons not quite being willing to step out and get shot and the Slayers not thrilled about stepping around the corner to be swarmed, Alexis rolls her eyes.
"Faith, Kendra, these are mostly vamps, right?"
They both nod, and Kendra whispers. "Nearly all. I have seen only one that wasn't, and he is already dead."
Alex spends a minute flipping through her bag of eternal wands. She didn't make too many offensive eternal wands because the experience level of the caster didn't matter so much. It was kinda capped at the minimum. So they were more useful for spells that were all or nothing, like healing or unlocking doors. But there are a couple of old standbys that are just worth it to have around, and while using blast globes underground is a bad idea? A low-powered fireball is probably alright. Especially given how flammable vampires seem to be, and the fact that if the fire does happen to burn out all the oxygen here they kinda don't care.
Hooray magic items.
Waving the wand produces the small orange sphere that zips out sixty feet to explode against the far wall in a burst of flame, causing a rising tide of screams to assault their ears, and then it happens again when the second orange ball follows it moments later.
Because why not?
Giggling a little, Kendra and Faith carefully make their way around the corner and begin finishing off the blackened, crisping, and often still flaming vampires that would be screaming if they could get their lungs to work at all. Obviously, some on the outskirts ran away. But based on the dust on the floor, Faith bets they got most of them and calls Alex and Diana up.
It doesn't take long from there to find what this mob of vampires was defending.
As they enter the enormous, bowl-shaped room from a cave that enters at what would be seen as the lip of the bowl, Kendra and Faith both stop.
Faith points at the thing in the center of the room and turns back to Diana.
"DD, What in the fuck is that thing?"
Diana Dormer, one of the most highly educated people on the face of the planet on all things demon related, looks at the thing in the center of this room and shudders. It sticks out of the center of the floor of this huge almost perfectly circular cavern. It's easily seventy feet tall still but was obviously once even taller. It is rotting. Most of its flesh is a putrid gray, but what is left would seem to indicate that this was once the head. Just the head and a bit of neck. Of something vaguely snakelike, and absolutely gigantic. And then Diana sees something that makes her nearly vomit, even breathing all of this nice, clean air that Alex's Choker supplies her.
The eye that they can see, which is about twenty feet up from the floor. It moves.
Blinded, obviously. Partially from the decay and exacerbated from what they are recognizing now as they all step closer, entranced by the thing, as almost eighty years worth of vampire bites that have slowly, a trickle at a time, been stealing the vital essence from what she can only assume is a trapped Old One. How it got trapped, she has no idea.
"I think this is an Old One, Faith. A very serious demon. What it's doing here I couldn't say, but we should kill it before the local vampires can grow any stronger on it or it manages to secure its freedom."
Kendra makes a move to step towards it and Diana all but yells.
"Stop! No. Don't get too close unless we have no choice. Who knows what kinds of evils you could pick up from something like this. Even one in this kind of shape. Perhaps the Frog brothers could bring down their explosives."
Alexis shakes her head. "No way. We walked at least a good two miles. We're right back under the center of town and look at the size of this place. It's a good three or four hundred feet across at least. You blow anything up down here, we are going to drop a big chunk of town right in this hole, kill a lot of people. This jerk-off probably caused the quake when he got stuck down here in the first place. Let me give it a shot first. I have a schema and my last two scrolls of 'Disintegrate.' We'll see if I can just take him out that way, he looks to be in pretty bad shape but is technically still alive. Theoretically, If I do enough damage to take him out it should reduce him to a fine powder that isn't cohesive enough to be evil."
Alexis then pulls out the schema, and after a moments thought, puts the Homunculus back in their carrying cases.
"How about if you guys go stand by the cave entrance? If I need to get out quick, I have a bolt shirt like the Slayers do. Between that and running, I can catch up."
Diana backs up slowly to the cave entrance with Faith, looking very perturbed. "Do you expect problems?"
Alexis shrugs. "No. But I am about to poke an Old One in the eye. Plans. First contact with the enemy and all that jazz. Kendra? Are you heading over there?"
She shakes her head. "I have a Bolt Shirt as well. And Diana has her guardian, should the worst take place. You need yours."
Rather than argue, Alex just nods.
She never wins these kinds of arguments with Kendra or Willow anyway.
She reads the mystical words of the schema, and the thin green beam of purest destructive energy lances out. For the merest moment, the slightest bit of held breath, it almost seems as though the miserable behemoth was going to resist. But then with a sound that almost seemed like a thank you, it begins to collapse into dust.
What Alexis and Kendra were not counting on, what they probably could not have counted on, was that by standing only fifty feet away, they were caught in an overpowering vortex of air when the two thousand foot long creature that was tied in knots in the rock strata below them suddenly ceased to be and sucked them down.
The other thing they couldn't have accounted for was the portal that had originally introduced the creature still being held slightly open. Open enough to accept the two of them, anyway. Held that way by the flesh of an Old One for these many long years.
And finally, they couldn't have accounted for that portal snapping shut with a sound that, if one were to hold one's head at just the right angle, could be mistaken for a laughing smirk.
>>>>
>>Somewhere that mortals are generally not welcome.
"Two, we have gotten in our trap most devious. The Slayer Kendra, who Dead should be, and the powerless boy Alexander, who is neither boy nor powerless."
The power, this one male in seeming, steps away from the viewing pool. "Two only remain and a smattering of the foul gifts. Difficult it will be, but the Balance can be regained."
Another of the powers, this one female in countenance, gives her peer an incredulous look. "In what way do you possibly see sending those two there to be the same as helping the balance? And how do you intend to keep them there?"
The first collects a glass of wine. "That which once was the powerless boy Alexander has surprised us many times, but travel unaided between dimensions is not possible. Even by him."
The female snorts as she collects her own glass. "She who is no longer a boy has been chosen and aided by Janus, a god of among other things, Doorways. And you are a fool. But I shall enjoy watching your downfall."
>>>>
>> Somewhere at the limits of the Earth and the extremity of Heaven, a peculiar-looking man with two faces raises two eyebrows at seeing what has befallen his champion and then overhears the plans of some lesser minions of the Balance.
Then he laughs.
>>>>
>> Somewhere that they have no fucking clue where or when it is.
Kendra and Alexis find themselves half dragging each other onto the beach, and it's only due to the armor mods that have been made since they purchased the Rig that they both made the swim at all without having to ditch everything they own. As it was, Skite and DW were rather annoyed. They ended up having to break out of the cloth pet carrier and make their way to the beach themselves, which as neither was built for swimming was less than pleasant. Fortunately, none of them started too far out. Deciding that the two-mile swim in full armor, even with all the good mods, is a good enough reason for a break, and given the fact that they went from a cave to a beach? Alexis releases the Iron Defenders again and puts one on each of them for bodyguard duty.
Then while Skite tries to dry out and DW angrily buzzes around their general area looking for something to shoot in his irritation, they catch their breath.
After making sure all of their stuff is there, verifying that they are both alright and that they absolutely do not know where they are, they both lay down on the sand. Comfortable enough when you have a device that will easily clean it up again. But it is this action, more than anything else, that ultimately causes Alexis the most concern.
"Kendra? Why the hell is there two suns?"
Yeah... Trying to dump a favored by a god of a travel/gateways domain on another plane might backfire. Better not hope she has a favorable time dilation. Seeing how she works with greater teleport... She can build planes shift devises. I assume she has an travelers any-tool, since everyone and their mothers carry one and wasn't worth mentioning...
All you did was put her in a position to save Fred (or did you already do that... Don't remember) and piss her of...
All you did was put her in a position to save Fred (or did you already do that... Don't remember) and piss her of...
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First Contact.
Chapter 97
First Contact.
>>>>
Kendra puts her hand in front of her eyes for a moment, just to make sure they are focusing properly. When she glances upwards again, she is forced to shake her head in a negative manner as she responds.
"Because there are two suns? The better question would be, I think, why are we where there are two suns?"
Finally staggering to their feet as she considers Kendra's question, Alexis makes it a point to use her cleaning tool on Skite, then sends the small scout to take a look around. She actually makes it a point to go over everything they own and are wearing with the tool, including the homunculi, as they walk inland away from the beach. While magical items are a bit more resilient long-term exposure to salt and moisture will eventually destroy most things. It's best to get it cleaned up quickly. As they walk along, Alexis considers the options.
"Well, considering we were on a Hellmouth offshoot, the most likely odds are that this is a hell dimension of some sort." She looks around. "Awfully pleasant one if it is."
Kendra nods. Wispy white clouds tastefully decorate otherwise beautiful blue skies, and the green forest is marred only by perhaps being a little dry. Easily explained by something as simple as it being an arid time of year. The weather is pleasant, the air clear. Granted if there was a bad smell to it they couldn't tell and it seems silly to risk a possible poisoning or really even just a weird allergic reaction to local pollen for no good reason. But visibility is good.
Alexis continues after a few seconds of consideration. "Skite got some altitude and it hasn't spotted any settlements of any significant size within twenty miles or so. But it's hilly and there is a lot of forest, so that doesn't mean there isn't anybody. I'll have him check again tonight when people might be using cooking fires or something to see by. For now, he is just keeping an eye around us. What worries me though is what else he didn't see."
"And what's that?" Kendra's eyes are flitting about the undergrowth as they walk along.
Alex plods along at a fairly slow pace, but legitimately this is because she is only sparing a third of her attention for what is here. "Well, like I said. Between the hills and the forest, this is by no means definitive. But how many places in the world can you think of that are this nice to live have no roads visible from five thousand feet or so for an area maybe twenty miles across? His vision isn't perfect. Expecting him to spot a one-lane dirt road beyond ten miles might be asking too much. But even still. Not one road that would accommodate a car?"
Kendra stops, considering.
Alexis nods as if expecting her comeback. "I know. I'm sure there are some if there are people here. But my worry is that something other than humans calls this place home. I think I can figure out where we are with some luck and some magic. But it's going to take some time. Once I have an idea where we are, getting back is going to be an unholy bitch, and the math will absolutely kill me. But it's likely possible. There's a spell called 'Plane Shift' that lets you hop dimensions from one to the next. Two problems."
She stops walking and sits on a rock as she rubs her temples.
"First, It runs on a lot of the same principles as teleport. So I expect it to be finicky as all get out. And second, even if it were to work absolutely perfectly, there is a built-in deviation of five to five hundred miles that you are going to arrive off course when you get where you are going. That would suck no matter where we were aiming, but as we will be aiming and praying for Sunnydale, and it could be off by worse than the five hundred even, and Sunnydale is next to the freaking Pacific ocean..."
Kendra pales. "We could drop out in the ocean?"
Alex gives a sad laugh. "We could drop closer to Hawaii than Sunnydale. Which means before we can try to go back, I have to make accommodations for that happening. So even if I can get us back, we're gonna be here for a while. The first thing we need to do is learn a little about where we are and how to get by here until we can get gone. Probably be around for a couple months at least."
Kendra's shoulders slump. "School?"
Alexis nods. "Yeah, I know. Plus, they probably all think we're dead. Who knows what's going on at home. It's probably crazy back there. I think the first thing to do is create a few 'Sending' casting items so we can send a bit of a deluge of 'quite worrying and don't sell all my stuff' messages."
Kendra looks confused. "Sending? What is this?"
Alexis answers as she is digging through her small pouch of spell components she keeps on hand for this sort of thing.
"It lets me send a twenty-five word or less message that the recipient will know came from me directly through to them. It bypasses pretty much everything, but there is a five percent chance that your call gets dropped if you are going extra planer. Given the way my luck usually runs, we're doing three. One to Jenny, one to Diana, and one to Willow.
Then selecting three rocks off the ground to turn into spell storing items, she does so. They all say the same thing.
>>>>
Hey.
Kendra and I got dumped in another dimension. Getting back is gonna take some doing. Will contact you when we have more to say.
>>>>
>> Hours later...
Kendra walks back into the very basic camp they have set up near the summit of the tallest hill they have found in the area. Close enough to the top to make getting a look around easy, but far enough from the top that between the relatively flat location, the trees, and the slight depression in the stone, chances are they should be invisible unless somebody is practically on top of them.
For a change, Alexis is absolutely thrilled that her homunculi hate being separated from her. It means that she was wearing her travel gear in Santa Carla, which happens to include currently six portable holes. Two are set up as workspaces and four are small storage warehouses. But really, it's the pixie construction crew that is the true saving grace here.
The Dedicated Wrights, now numbering seven, have long since put in their time on the various magical projects they were working on and are building the camp that the two will be using while Kendra and Alexis compare notes. Alexis starts as they both sit down on the folding chairs that are set up for the cliff-side view.
"Well, I wasn't planning on this so we are a little low on the basics. I have another day until the next item is done, then I can start a Wright on making the trail ration bags I put together for Faith and Diana. It isn't exciting fare, but we aren't going to starve. For water, we both already have our thermos that comes with the belt. That's good for thirty-six ounces of water a day each and they're cheap. I can make each of us a second one no problem. Plenty unless we need to wash or anything. We'll need a water generator soon, but with the cleansing tools, we'll be okay for a week or so. We can have a base camp with beds, custom magic sleeping bags, and tents if we need to bug out. The works. Basically, inside of five days, I'll have food, water, shelter, all the basics handled. It'd be quicker, except I am still trying to get those damn teleport pads done and they each eat up a Wright's magic build time for the day each friggin' day."
Kendra rolls her eyes. "We think we might have been literally sent to hell, and you are concerned about that?"
Alex looks a little hurt. "Hey, if I can do both, I feel like I should. I call it optimism." She looks over at Kendra. "I will get us back. I just need time to get it right, I may not get a second chance at it."
Kendra gives her an exasperated look but finally concedes the point.
"Okay then." Kendra closes her eyes for a moment and organizes her thoughts.
"Well, the good news is that I recognize a lot of the plants and animals here. The bad news is that what I don't recognize, even in just the two-hour hike I took with Howlback, could fill a few books. But the other thing I found is game trails with boot prints on them. Nothing terribly close. A mile or so away, and down the hill. I don't think anybody bothers coming up the mountain. But there are definitely people here of some sort. Deer don't wear boots."
With that unsettling thought, the two settle in for an uncomfortable first night as the Dedicated Wrights continue the process of turning their chosen patch of land into a hidden fortress.
>>>>
>> The House, Sunnydale. 7 PM
Everyone in the living room stares at the spot where the third apparition of Alexis' head and shoulders had just disappeared from in front of Willow, where it had briefly spoken to her. After a minute passes with no more incoming messages, all of a sudden there is bedlam. After a minute of people trying to talk over each other, Giles puts his thumb and finger in his mouth and a piercing whistle rips through the room.
"Calm down. All of you. Jenny, I assume that you know what spell she used to contact us?"
Jenny offers a hesitant nod. "I don't have the entry memorized, but considering how short the messages were and the fact that she made it a point to send three I am betting it was a 'Sending' spell. I couldn't tell you all the details, but I know it has a twenty-five-word limit and a chance to not break a dimensional barrier. She probably did three to make damn sure at least two people saw it. She couldn't have known we'd all be in the same room."
Willow looks over with tears streaming down her face. "Can she get back? I mean, I know the spell exists, but teleport is so... and plane shift is..." She starts breaking down into sobs again and collapses into Joyce's side.
Jenny looks back at the crushed girls and tries to offer a slight smile. "I know she can. But we can probably assume they are going to be taking a year off before they start classes. I don't think they'll make it back before school starts. Considering how tough these teleport pads have been for her, it might be optimistic to think she'll be back for Christmas." Then her smile flashes to something more real.
"But really. It's Alexis and her horde backed by Kendra the Slayer. What's the worst that could happen?"
>>>>
>> Mountaintop. Late night, day 6.
Alex and Kendra share a fairly cozy tent and the sleeping bags they are using rest on top of cots with soft, cotton-filled pillows under their heads. The sheer number of homunculus that either work or patrol through the night make the odds that anyone could sneak up on this spot highly unlikely. But that isn't what ends up waking her.
For Kendra, it's the scream. Echoing up from the valley below.
For Alexis, it's all of her homunculi at once using their mental connection to let her know about that same scream.
Before the last of the echo has faded from the valley floor, Kendra has summoned her armor and is strapping on her weapons.
Alexis gives her a look. "Are you sure? We are probably in a hell of some sort, remember?"
Kendra nods. "Then there are probably many who could use my help, true?"
Alexis offers a strained laugh. "DW couldn't keep up with you anyway. I am sending Howlback and Skite. Once you get beyond the reach of the earpiece, our only communication will be you talking to Skite and me talking through him. Unless I'm lucky enough this is a hell dimension that'll work as a carrier wave for the signal. Probably a thousand to one."
Kendra nods, and after offering a final sassy grin and a snappy salute, she sprints away. Alexis gets comfortable.
The full moon is casting enough light to get around by but finding a hiding person would be difficult.
Under normal circumstances.
But in this instance, every ten minutes or so there is a horrifying, gurgling scream that lasts fifteen seconds or so, and then stops. Each time it happens, it's a further hundred or so yards down the valley. And so it isn't long before Kendra finds the source. Creeping up on a laboriously breathing person of short stature who appears to be dragging another, she isn't sure what to do at first.
Her very first thought is to rescue the one being dragged. But seconds after she spots them, the dragged one lets out a moan and the other ever so gently sets her down from where he, as it is obviously a young man now that she can see him not hunched over another person, was carrying her against his chest and letting her feet and legs drag. He lunges to her head and gently taps her face while giving furtive looks to their back trail.
After a few seconds, the boy mumbles something under his breath, probably a curse, Kendra decides. Then goes to pick her up again.
He doesn't make it.
Reaching down to lift her, he suddenly jerks upright, grasping at this strange hoop around his neck as though it is shocking him horribly. The scream of agony it forces from his already raw throat is heart-wrenching for Kendra. As always, a few seconds later, it stops. When it does, he collapses bonelessly to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. Kendra, staring at the scene from the shadows in horror, waits a few minutes. Eventually, the boy, probably no more than twelve, stirs. Then gets to his feet in a panic. Pulls a sharp rock from his pocket and carves a mark in his arm that bleeds furiously. Kendra notes absently that it will be his seventeenth such ragged cut. Three sets of hashes that amount to five each, plus an additional two.
He stares at his arm as if in recognition of something, and instead of picking her up again, he squares his shoulders and marches back the way he came, picking up a good-sized broken-off tree branch to be used as a club when he does so.
Kendra doesn't know what is going on. But she does know that unconscious eight year old's trump twelve year old's that are looking for trouble. Based on that logic, she carefully picks up the small girl, and sprints back to the camp.
Alexis has Skite follow the boy, and it doesn't take long before he finds what he's looking for. A group of demons. Large, as compared to humans. Perhaps seven feet tall. They tower over the boy. Their dirt brown skin and uninspiring rams horns are in stark contrast to the seemingly civilized clothing they wear. The three speak amicably enough as they move through the forest, obviously following the frenzied, frantic trail left by the boy.
When the boy leaps out of a tree and is batted aside like a rag doll into a heap of broken bones and pain, Alexis is hurt by it in her soul somewhere. But then Skite overhears the demon's next words.
"Grednis, just be done with this cow. It is young enough for the flesh to be butter tender and it is far too much trouble. Besides, its sibling bears your brand. It'll either turn up for the reward or someone will eat it. Nothing to be done about this tonight. I grow weary of chasing your livestock all over Pylea."
With a sigh, the middle demon nods. "I suppose you are right. Father won't like this. But I suppose it's better than telling him you broke the stupid animal." This last is said as he disapprovingly looks between the boy and his friend who smacked him. Then he pulls something out of his pocket.
And after a moment of frantic twitching, the boy lays still. Unnaturally so.
Once Kendra arrives back at their camp, the two manage to get the child to drink a healing potion and then put her to bed. Then Alexis tells her what happened to her brother, and that yes. It was her brother. There is silence for a few minutes as the two consider the possibilities. But it is Kendra who speaks first.
"Can we leave, knowing what we do? Can we abandon these people when we could help?"
Alexis slowly nods in thought. "Well, there's one thing for damn sure." Her eyes practically sparkle despite the horrors of the night.
"I don't have to 'play nice' and 'be subtle' in a hell dimension."
>>>>
>> The House, Jenny's bedroom. 5 AM.
We are on Pylea. Demon Controlled. Humans kept as cattle. Saw some kill a boy. We are safe-ish. But have work to do here.
Author's note:
So yeah. That happened.
Comments are welcome, and thanks for reading!
First Contact.
>>>>
Kendra puts her hand in front of her eyes for a moment, just to make sure they are focusing properly. When she glances upwards again, she is forced to shake her head in a negative manner as she responds.
"Because there are two suns? The better question would be, I think, why are we where there are two suns?"
Finally staggering to their feet as she considers Kendra's question, Alexis makes it a point to use her cleaning tool on Skite, then sends the small scout to take a look around. She actually makes it a point to go over everything they own and are wearing with the tool, including the homunculi, as they walk inland away from the beach. While magical items are a bit more resilient long-term exposure to salt and moisture will eventually destroy most things. It's best to get it cleaned up quickly. As they walk along, Alexis considers the options.
"Well, considering we were on a Hellmouth offshoot, the most likely odds are that this is a hell dimension of some sort." She looks around. "Awfully pleasant one if it is."
Kendra nods. Wispy white clouds tastefully decorate otherwise beautiful blue skies, and the green forest is marred only by perhaps being a little dry. Easily explained by something as simple as it being an arid time of year. The weather is pleasant, the air clear. Granted if there was a bad smell to it they couldn't tell and it seems silly to risk a possible poisoning or really even just a weird allergic reaction to local pollen for no good reason. But visibility is good.
Alexis continues after a few seconds of consideration. "Skite got some altitude and it hasn't spotted any settlements of any significant size within twenty miles or so. But it's hilly and there is a lot of forest, so that doesn't mean there isn't anybody. I'll have him check again tonight when people might be using cooking fires or something to see by. For now, he is just keeping an eye around us. What worries me though is what else he didn't see."
"And what's that?" Kendra's eyes are flitting about the undergrowth as they walk along.
Alex plods along at a fairly slow pace, but legitimately this is because she is only sparing a third of her attention for what is here. "Well, like I said. Between the hills and the forest, this is by no means definitive. But how many places in the world can you think of that are this nice to live have no roads visible from five thousand feet or so for an area maybe twenty miles across? His vision isn't perfect. Expecting him to spot a one-lane dirt road beyond ten miles might be asking too much. But even still. Not one road that would accommodate a car?"
Kendra stops, considering.
Alexis nods as if expecting her comeback. "I know. I'm sure there are some if there are people here. But my worry is that something other than humans calls this place home. I think I can figure out where we are with some luck and some magic. But it's going to take some time. Once I have an idea where we are, getting back is going to be an unholy bitch, and the math will absolutely kill me. But it's likely possible. There's a spell called 'Plane Shift' that lets you hop dimensions from one to the next. Two problems."
She stops walking and sits on a rock as she rubs her temples.
"First, It runs on a lot of the same principles as teleport. So I expect it to be finicky as all get out. And second, even if it were to work absolutely perfectly, there is a built-in deviation of five to five hundred miles that you are going to arrive off course when you get where you are going. That would suck no matter where we were aiming, but as we will be aiming and praying for Sunnydale, and it could be off by worse than the five hundred even, and Sunnydale is next to the freaking Pacific ocean..."
Kendra pales. "We could drop out in the ocean?"
Alex gives a sad laugh. "We could drop closer to Hawaii than Sunnydale. Which means before we can try to go back, I have to make accommodations for that happening. So even if I can get us back, we're gonna be here for a while. The first thing we need to do is learn a little about where we are and how to get by here until we can get gone. Probably be around for a couple months at least."
Kendra's shoulders slump. "School?"
Alexis nods. "Yeah, I know. Plus, they probably all think we're dead. Who knows what's going on at home. It's probably crazy back there. I think the first thing to do is create a few 'Sending' casting items so we can send a bit of a deluge of 'quite worrying and don't sell all my stuff' messages."
Kendra looks confused. "Sending? What is this?"
Alexis answers as she is digging through her small pouch of spell components she keeps on hand for this sort of thing.
"It lets me send a twenty-five word or less message that the recipient will know came from me directly through to them. It bypasses pretty much everything, but there is a five percent chance that your call gets dropped if you are going extra planer. Given the way my luck usually runs, we're doing three. One to Jenny, one to Diana, and one to Willow.
Then selecting three rocks off the ground to turn into spell storing items, she does so. They all say the same thing.
>>>>
Hey.
Kendra and I got dumped in another dimension. Getting back is gonna take some doing. Will contact you when we have more to say.
>>>>
>> Hours later...
Kendra walks back into the very basic camp they have set up near the summit of the tallest hill they have found in the area. Close enough to the top to make getting a look around easy, but far enough from the top that between the relatively flat location, the trees, and the slight depression in the stone, chances are they should be invisible unless somebody is practically on top of them.
For a change, Alexis is absolutely thrilled that her homunculi hate being separated from her. It means that she was wearing her travel gear in Santa Carla, which happens to include currently six portable holes. Two are set up as workspaces and four are small storage warehouses. But really, it's the pixie construction crew that is the true saving grace here.
The Dedicated Wrights, now numbering seven, have long since put in their time on the various magical projects they were working on and are building the camp that the two will be using while Kendra and Alexis compare notes. Alexis starts as they both sit down on the folding chairs that are set up for the cliff-side view.
"Well, I wasn't planning on this so we are a little low on the basics. I have another day until the next item is done, then I can start a Wright on making the trail ration bags I put together for Faith and Diana. It isn't exciting fare, but we aren't going to starve. For water, we both already have our thermos that comes with the belt. That's good for thirty-six ounces of water a day each and they're cheap. I can make each of us a second one no problem. Plenty unless we need to wash or anything. We'll need a water generator soon, but with the cleansing tools, we'll be okay for a week or so. We can have a base camp with beds, custom magic sleeping bags, and tents if we need to bug out. The works. Basically, inside of five days, I'll have food, water, shelter, all the basics handled. It'd be quicker, except I am still trying to get those damn teleport pads done and they each eat up a Wright's magic build time for the day each friggin' day."
Kendra rolls her eyes. "We think we might have been literally sent to hell, and you are concerned about that?"
Alex looks a little hurt. "Hey, if I can do both, I feel like I should. I call it optimism." She looks over at Kendra. "I will get us back. I just need time to get it right, I may not get a second chance at it."
Kendra gives her an exasperated look but finally concedes the point.
"Okay then." Kendra closes her eyes for a moment and organizes her thoughts.
"Well, the good news is that I recognize a lot of the plants and animals here. The bad news is that what I don't recognize, even in just the two-hour hike I took with Howlback, could fill a few books. But the other thing I found is game trails with boot prints on them. Nothing terribly close. A mile or so away, and down the hill. I don't think anybody bothers coming up the mountain. But there are definitely people here of some sort. Deer don't wear boots."
With that unsettling thought, the two settle in for an uncomfortable first night as the Dedicated Wrights continue the process of turning their chosen patch of land into a hidden fortress.
>>>>
>> The House, Sunnydale. 7 PM
Everyone in the living room stares at the spot where the third apparition of Alexis' head and shoulders had just disappeared from in front of Willow, where it had briefly spoken to her. After a minute passes with no more incoming messages, all of a sudden there is bedlam. After a minute of people trying to talk over each other, Giles puts his thumb and finger in his mouth and a piercing whistle rips through the room.
"Calm down. All of you. Jenny, I assume that you know what spell she used to contact us?"
Jenny offers a hesitant nod. "I don't have the entry memorized, but considering how short the messages were and the fact that she made it a point to send three I am betting it was a 'Sending' spell. I couldn't tell you all the details, but I know it has a twenty-five-word limit and a chance to not break a dimensional barrier. She probably did three to make damn sure at least two people saw it. She couldn't have known we'd all be in the same room."
Willow looks over with tears streaming down her face. "Can she get back? I mean, I know the spell exists, but teleport is so... and plane shift is..." She starts breaking down into sobs again and collapses into Joyce's side.
Jenny looks back at the crushed girls and tries to offer a slight smile. "I know she can. But we can probably assume they are going to be taking a year off before they start classes. I don't think they'll make it back before school starts. Considering how tough these teleport pads have been for her, it might be optimistic to think she'll be back for Christmas." Then her smile flashes to something more real.
"But really. It's Alexis and her horde backed by Kendra the Slayer. What's the worst that could happen?"
>>>>
>> Mountaintop. Late night, day 6.
Alex and Kendra share a fairly cozy tent and the sleeping bags they are using rest on top of cots with soft, cotton-filled pillows under their heads. The sheer number of homunculus that either work or patrol through the night make the odds that anyone could sneak up on this spot highly unlikely. But that isn't what ends up waking her.
For Kendra, it's the scream. Echoing up from the valley below.
For Alexis, it's all of her homunculi at once using their mental connection to let her know about that same scream.
Before the last of the echo has faded from the valley floor, Kendra has summoned her armor and is strapping on her weapons.
Alexis gives her a look. "Are you sure? We are probably in a hell of some sort, remember?"
Kendra nods. "Then there are probably many who could use my help, true?"
Alexis offers a strained laugh. "DW couldn't keep up with you anyway. I am sending Howlback and Skite. Once you get beyond the reach of the earpiece, our only communication will be you talking to Skite and me talking through him. Unless I'm lucky enough this is a hell dimension that'll work as a carrier wave for the signal. Probably a thousand to one."
Kendra nods, and after offering a final sassy grin and a snappy salute, she sprints away. Alexis gets comfortable.
The full moon is casting enough light to get around by but finding a hiding person would be difficult.
Under normal circumstances.
But in this instance, every ten minutes or so there is a horrifying, gurgling scream that lasts fifteen seconds or so, and then stops. Each time it happens, it's a further hundred or so yards down the valley. And so it isn't long before Kendra finds the source. Creeping up on a laboriously breathing person of short stature who appears to be dragging another, she isn't sure what to do at first.
Her very first thought is to rescue the one being dragged. But seconds after she spots them, the dragged one lets out a moan and the other ever so gently sets her down from where he, as it is obviously a young man now that she can see him not hunched over another person, was carrying her against his chest and letting her feet and legs drag. He lunges to her head and gently taps her face while giving furtive looks to their back trail.
After a few seconds, the boy mumbles something under his breath, probably a curse, Kendra decides. Then goes to pick her up again.
He doesn't make it.
Reaching down to lift her, he suddenly jerks upright, grasping at this strange hoop around his neck as though it is shocking him horribly. The scream of agony it forces from his already raw throat is heart-wrenching for Kendra. As always, a few seconds later, it stops. When it does, he collapses bonelessly to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. Kendra, staring at the scene from the shadows in horror, waits a few minutes. Eventually, the boy, probably no more than twelve, stirs. Then gets to his feet in a panic. Pulls a sharp rock from his pocket and carves a mark in his arm that bleeds furiously. Kendra notes absently that it will be his seventeenth such ragged cut. Three sets of hashes that amount to five each, plus an additional two.
He stares at his arm as if in recognition of something, and instead of picking her up again, he squares his shoulders and marches back the way he came, picking up a good-sized broken-off tree branch to be used as a club when he does so.
Kendra doesn't know what is going on. But she does know that unconscious eight year old's trump twelve year old's that are looking for trouble. Based on that logic, she carefully picks up the small girl, and sprints back to the camp.
Alexis has Skite follow the boy, and it doesn't take long before he finds what he's looking for. A group of demons. Large, as compared to humans. Perhaps seven feet tall. They tower over the boy. Their dirt brown skin and uninspiring rams horns are in stark contrast to the seemingly civilized clothing they wear. The three speak amicably enough as they move through the forest, obviously following the frenzied, frantic trail left by the boy.
When the boy leaps out of a tree and is batted aside like a rag doll into a heap of broken bones and pain, Alexis is hurt by it in her soul somewhere. But then Skite overhears the demon's next words.
"Grednis, just be done with this cow. It is young enough for the flesh to be butter tender and it is far too much trouble. Besides, its sibling bears your brand. It'll either turn up for the reward or someone will eat it. Nothing to be done about this tonight. I grow weary of chasing your livestock all over Pylea."
With a sigh, the middle demon nods. "I suppose you are right. Father won't like this. But I suppose it's better than telling him you broke the stupid animal." This last is said as he disapprovingly looks between the boy and his friend who smacked him. Then he pulls something out of his pocket.
And after a moment of frantic twitching, the boy lays still. Unnaturally so.
Once Kendra arrives back at their camp, the two manage to get the child to drink a healing potion and then put her to bed. Then Alexis tells her what happened to her brother, and that yes. It was her brother. There is silence for a few minutes as the two consider the possibilities. But it is Kendra who speaks first.
"Can we leave, knowing what we do? Can we abandon these people when we could help?"
Alexis slowly nods in thought. "Well, there's one thing for damn sure." Her eyes practically sparkle despite the horrors of the night.
"I don't have to 'play nice' and 'be subtle' in a hell dimension."
>>>>
>> The House, Jenny's bedroom. 5 AM.
We are on Pylea. Demon Controlled. Humans kept as cattle. Saw some kill a boy. We are safe-ish. But have work to do here.
Author's note:
So yeah. That happened.
Comments are welcome, and thanks for reading!
you have a rule about saying this, you know...
and that kids, is why aunt Alexi is known as Queen of hell.
it wasn't always on fire, but is now.
Plans.
Chapter 98
Plans.
>>>>
A few hours later there is a stirring in the tent they share as the small girl awakens to the the soft glow of the early morning light filtering through the walls. She is immediately disoriented. She remembers being in trouble. It was nearly her birthday, and she was upset and crying. Her owner's son had hit her and she knew no more.
Carefully sitting up, she finds herself rather properly sandwiched between two tiny people. She is not yet ten, and small for her age. But the dark haired girl on one side and dark skinned and haired one on the other are both smaller than her. They must be younger children. Feeling hungry, and not wishing to disturb the others, she goes to the entrance of the tent. An odd choice, to use large brass buttons to secure a tent flap. But she supposed that it would lend it weight? Stop it from fluttering about at night, perhaps?
But why would you want to carry any extra between campsites when tie downs would work?
She shakes her head. She shouldn't have these thoughts. These are inna-pennant thoughts and the demons don't like it when she has them. They always bring pain. She'll have to find a way to be useful though, wherever she is. The alternative is the stew pot. That's how they'd lost their father last year.
Apparently the demons only considered one male to six females to be a good enough ratio. Extra males that were sub par or otherwise not good enough for stud duties tended toward the stew pot.
When she has the first two buttons undone, she peeks outside the tent, and then closes the hole quickly.
There is a metal dog! Right outside, sitting there. Standing guard it looks to be. She cautiously opens the tiniest peephole and stares at it for a minute.
It seems alive. It moves it's head back and forth as if looking about and testing the air. Beyond the dog, she now notices there are things of clay and gossamer flitting about with colorful hats on carrying out a dizzying array of tasks.
She watches the serene chaos in the morning's light for a few minutes until an amused, high-pitched voice speaks up from behind her.
"Thirsty?"
She spins around in a panic and sees the two small people are awake and have sat up while she was distracted. She holds her arms closer to her body and absently twirls a bit of her honey-blond hair in her fingers as she does so.
She holds her arms close because she instinctively makes herself more trouble than it is worth to grab. It won't stop them if they're serious. But sometimes if they're just bored, if you're too much trouble they'll move on. And she marvels for a moment at how clean and silky her hair and skin are. Almost as though she was bathed while she slept.
By way of answer to the question, she merely nods.
The light-skinned, dark-haired one hands her a bottle with a screw top. She smiles.
"Come on out when you want to talk. We need to get busy."
Then the two leave the tent, after offering her encouraging smiles.
Ellena feels a little spark of hope for the first time in a very, very long time. But she beats it down viciously. Long experience has taught her that hope only hurts more when it dies.
>>>>
>> Noon-Ish.
She still hasn't left the tent. She isn't sure she wants to. This is the longest she's ever gone without pain. She's known other cows that were treated marginally better than the ones her master owned, but her master was known to be decidedly cruel. She is just trying to decide whether or not to leave when she hears voices and decides instead to listen.
"Hey, Alex!" Kendra calls as she walks over the final rise.
Alexis nods thoughtfully, barely looking up from her equations and sketches. "How was the patrol?"
Kendra shrugs. "Very little sign of any kind of civilization for a good fifteen miles. A few boot prints on game trails, but little else. And I think I have figured out why."
Alexis looks up, curious. "Oh?"
Kendra nods. "Water. Unless you can drink from the sea, there is precious little of it here. Next time you send Skite up to do a high-altitude recon, tell him to look for freshwater. I am betting that will be how we find the people that owned that boy." She looks down at the paperwork that Alexis has laid about, some of it trapped under rocks to keep it from blowing away in the stiff breeze. "What are you working on?"
Alexis taps the end of her pencil against her bottom lip as she considers how to explain this idea.
"I think it's safe to say that you and I don't want to stay here forever. So whatever we do to help free these people, it needs to be able to be taken over by them when we leave. But the problem is that trying to build enough equipment to outfit an army to go against a probable demonic horde would take decades and I don't want to be here that long. So I am trying to come up with a shortcut. A powerful one." She frowns. "And I think I have, but the option I came up with is a bit... Ridiculous. And invasive, honestly."
Kendra sits down next to her on the other end of the log bench they've been using. "Invasive how?"
Giving up on glaring at the equations for the moment, Alexis sighs and turns to face Kendra to wrap her head around the ethical issues.
"I feel like I am somehow setting up to be the 'ancient creator' of the McGuffin of some dumb video game or anime, really. Okay, here's what I'm thinking. You tell me how crazy it is. In my position, it's easy to get all caught up in the ability to do it and forget whether or not it's actually a good idea. Basically, it's a new kind of construct creature that steals bits and pieces from a few different types and a spell called 'Magic Jar.' At its core, it's an Effigy. The same thing the sharks that defend the Rig are. I can make all kinds of Effigy creatures as magical and mechanical hybrids. But making them intelligent, even dog-level intelligent, that's a lot trickier. Dawn had an idea of learning from homunculus... Never mind. I'm still not sure that would work. It got me thinking of possibilities though. A re-purposed 'Magic Jar' spell in which you shared a soul with a soul-less construct rather than using it straight out as a tool of possession should allow some level of loyalty and intelligence from the construct. Probably try to mix in some aspects of a shield guardian for good measure, the fast healing and the shield other aspects at least."
Kendra picks up one of the slightly more refined sketches. "What the heck is this?"
Alexis nods at it. "Theoretically, that could be a half-dragon twelve-headed hydra effigy, wingless, with an enclosed and hardened saddle on its back. Capable of healing 10 hit points every six seconds and casting 'shield other' on its bond mate, so magically soaking half the damage they would be taking. The Hydra would have twelve attacks every six seconds for ridiculous amounts of damage and would be crazy hard to hurt unless you have adamantine, which is a metal that I don't think even really exists outside of a game world. With all-around crossbow slits in the saddle enclosure and nothing able to get close enough to mess with the saddle for fear of being torn apart by the hydra, it's one of my favorite designs so far." She frowns at the paper. "Slow, though. A tank, but not something you could use in a hit-and-run."
Kendra just stares at her. "How long?"
Alexis grimaces. "A solid three months. The Effigies themselves aren't so bad but the time on the 'add on' stuff gets nasty. Especially the ability to reassign a new owner by refilling the 'Magic Jar' with a new soul if the first warrior dies. If the partners are irreplaceable then this whole concept is dead in the water though. So they have to be able to be, and more they need to be able to reject any kind of demonic essence or I don't see it going well long term."
Kendra looks down at the labels on the various drawings and starts taking in the sketches of internal workings and cross-referencing them with her own knowledge of creatures she has studied.
Griffon.
Dire Bear.
Manticore.
The list of possibilities goes on and on, there are numerous pages of possibilities and basic sketches of what the mechanism might be.
"So basically, you are going to sit here and tell me with a straight face that your plan to save the people in this hell world is to find some teenagers with attitudes and present them with huge engines of destruction, after which you become the single most useless thing ever. In your case, by leaving." Kendra smirks. "You're right. I think I have seen this show."
Alexis gets a hurt look on her face. "Please don't go there. I'm dealing with serious mental confooslement here."
Kendra shakes her head. "Obviously. We are already in the making up words to self diagnose stage. It must be serious. Just make sure whoever gets the blue one is a smart and clever dreamboat and I'll be happy."
Kendra offers a slight grin as they both giggle a bit at the mental image of Jonathan Levinson in charge of an unstoppable engine of destruction that happened to be painted a cheerful blue color.
"My joking aside, what is the problem?"
Alex tosses her pencil down on the tree stump she's been using as a table.
"A couple of things. First, the whole premise here is to give control to the people by tearing away a little piece of their soul and putting it in a thing. That's not quite the same thing as killing them, but it is an irreversible change, I mean, there's no retirement from a commitment like that. Do I really have the right to do something like this? Especially since I plan to leave afterward?"
Kendra just shrugs. "I think that you are giving them a choice, that is more than the Slayers get. If they make the choice then all you are doing is supplying a tool."
Then Kendra looks a little confused as she shuffles through page after page of ridiculously overbuilt war machines. "Why don't you make things like this for Sunnydale?"
Alexis shrugs. "No way to hide any of it on the Hellmouth. Take this one, one of the smaller, more normal ones." She picks up a piece of paper. "This would appear at first glance to a biologist to be some kind of missing link between a crocodile and a cave bear. It would stand upwards of ten feet tall on all fours and twenty to twenty-two feet reared up on its hind legs. Now imagine trying to use this dire bear and dragon amalgamation as a deterrent on the Hellmouth."
Kendra nods slowly. "So why not make smaller ones?"
Alexis nods. "I would if I could. The homunculi are kind of an oddity in that they are intelligent. Most constructs are pretty stupid and can't learn. So in order to make them more effective fighters, the only choice you have is to make them bigger, more impressive. Stronger. Tougher. Because of the homunculi's connection to their creator, they can fake actual intelligence, which is how they can be as tough and skilled as they are for their size. And honestly, it is this aspect I am trying to grasp a little with the Magic Jar shenanigans. But I have no idea if it'll work right. A lot of this is still all theory, you know."
Kendra nods in thought. "So once we get the camp straightened out, we need a prototype getting built then. How long until we can start that?"
Alexis leans back. "It'll be at least a week. I'll have all three of the Wrights freed up that aren't working on the pads clear by then. We'll have food for you, me, and our guest in two days. Water on a tap in a day. From there we'll just see how things go I guess. I'm thinking pretty seriously about just having the Wrights start a little mining operation into the mountain here. Anything to defray costs a little. Besides, it is a whole new dimension. Maybe they'll find something shiny and new."
Kendra glances toward the tent. "She still hiding in there?"
Alexis nods absently. "Yeah. Purple is keeping an eye on the tent, and she hasn't gone anywhere. I haven't been pushy since we won't have any food until tomorrow anyway. Better she doesn't waste the energy running around or worrying too much.
Kendra gives the tent another look and then nods.
"Fair enough." She drops her eyes and whispers. "What do we tell her about her brother?"
Alexis shrugs, and whispers back. "The truth, when it comes up. We didn't kill him. And we can even give the name of the one that did. It sucks that she comes from a background where this kind of thing happens, but she does. Lying to her about anything I think would just be setting ourselves up to look bad when we got found out."
With that, Alexis continues scribbling at her sketches. Considering different possibilities. While Kendra tries to ignore her stomach has started to eat itself in her hunger and the girl in the tent is still in there looking out. Allowing the fiction of safety to exist due to the few scraps of rubberized canvas that surround her as she listens to them and takes it all in.
>> The House. Giles' Library. 8 PM
Henry is suddenly struck by what the man opposite him is saying.
"What do you mean they're gone? Did they die? Do you mean they died?"
Giles slowly shakes his head. "No, Henry. We've already had word from Alexis via her magic, multiple times. That wouldn't be possible if they were dead. They were dealing with an ongoing demon infestation in Santa Carla and something went wrong. There was suction, a vacuum of some kind, and it forced the two of them into a portal to another world. Alexis believes she can make it back but warns it may be a few months before it can be managed. Additionally, she has added to the information that we have that the world they are in is a hell dimension, controlled by demons. It is called Pylea. Humans there are kept like cattle there. I've taken the time to research it somewhat, and it is..."
Giles rubs the bridge of his nose with his right thumb and forefinger as he considers how to put it. "It is a wretched place, Henry. There are worse, by far. But it is quite horrific. An entire world that is as dangerous as an evening on the Hellmouth. And I suspect that nights there will be even worse than anything we've yet to see here."
He sighs and places his hand back on the table. "Jenny and I have discussed it and we find it unlikely that the two of them will be able to keep themselves out of the local politics, as it were. So while I will not doubt their eventual safe return, I felt you might need to take a more pragmatic view moving forward."
Henry leans back. So many plans potentially trashed now. He looks at Giles. "That girl, Joyce's daughter, Dawn... Is she training to be Alexis' apprentice? We've noticed that they are spending some time in the shop together."
Giles slowly shakes his head. "I don't know where your mind is going Henry, but I recommend that it come to a full stop right there. Dawn is many things, but a replacement for Alexis is not one of them, and won't be for many, many years if ever. I would guess that without Alexis here to train her further she has just barely enough knowledge to truly get herself hurt."
Henry nods, only half paying attention to the other gentleman as his own mind had come to much the same conclusions moments ago anyway.
"Can we contact them? Help them get back somehow?"
Giles shakes his head. "Breaching the walls between dimensions is never something to be done lightly. And frankly, it is far and away too dangerous for us to attempt. To toy with Armageddon to save two people is a step too far. We are simply fortunate that Alexis knows more subtle ways to move across dimensional boundaries, or there would be no way to retrieve them at all."
Henry stands. "So that's it then? We just go along, doing our own thing, and wait to see if they make it back?"
Giles nods, his own face drawn with worry. "Henry, there is nothing else we can do. I truly wish it was different. More than you can possibly know. But this is, unfortunately, the hand they've been dealt and all we can do is move on as best we can."
Henry offers a nod and exits the room, his face a barely held together mask of concern and annoyance. "I have to report this. I'll let you know what I get told if I can."
>> Author's note:
I danced around it a bit, but just so we're clear: I make no claims to any ownership of any rangers. Power or otherwise.
As for the new construct type? No, you won't find it in a Monster Manual. She's entering uncharted waters here, mashing together the better aspects of a few construct types.
Plans.
>>>>
A few hours later there is a stirring in the tent they share as the small girl awakens to the the soft glow of the early morning light filtering through the walls. She is immediately disoriented. She remembers being in trouble. It was nearly her birthday, and she was upset and crying. Her owner's son had hit her and she knew no more.
Carefully sitting up, she finds herself rather properly sandwiched between two tiny people. She is not yet ten, and small for her age. But the dark haired girl on one side and dark skinned and haired one on the other are both smaller than her. They must be younger children. Feeling hungry, and not wishing to disturb the others, she goes to the entrance of the tent. An odd choice, to use large brass buttons to secure a tent flap. But she supposed that it would lend it weight? Stop it from fluttering about at night, perhaps?
But why would you want to carry any extra between campsites when tie downs would work?
She shakes her head. She shouldn't have these thoughts. These are inna-pennant thoughts and the demons don't like it when she has them. They always bring pain. She'll have to find a way to be useful though, wherever she is. The alternative is the stew pot. That's how they'd lost their father last year.
Apparently the demons only considered one male to six females to be a good enough ratio. Extra males that were sub par or otherwise not good enough for stud duties tended toward the stew pot.
When she has the first two buttons undone, she peeks outside the tent, and then closes the hole quickly.
There is a metal dog! Right outside, sitting there. Standing guard it looks to be. She cautiously opens the tiniest peephole and stares at it for a minute.
It seems alive. It moves it's head back and forth as if looking about and testing the air. Beyond the dog, she now notices there are things of clay and gossamer flitting about with colorful hats on carrying out a dizzying array of tasks.
She watches the serene chaos in the morning's light for a few minutes until an amused, high-pitched voice speaks up from behind her.
"Thirsty?"
She spins around in a panic and sees the two small people are awake and have sat up while she was distracted. She holds her arms closer to her body and absently twirls a bit of her honey-blond hair in her fingers as she does so.
She holds her arms close because she instinctively makes herself more trouble than it is worth to grab. It won't stop them if they're serious. But sometimes if they're just bored, if you're too much trouble they'll move on. And she marvels for a moment at how clean and silky her hair and skin are. Almost as though she was bathed while she slept.
By way of answer to the question, she merely nods.
The light-skinned, dark-haired one hands her a bottle with a screw top. She smiles.
"Come on out when you want to talk. We need to get busy."
Then the two leave the tent, after offering her encouraging smiles.
Ellena feels a little spark of hope for the first time in a very, very long time. But she beats it down viciously. Long experience has taught her that hope only hurts more when it dies.
>>>>
>> Noon-Ish.
She still hasn't left the tent. She isn't sure she wants to. This is the longest she's ever gone without pain. She's known other cows that were treated marginally better than the ones her master owned, but her master was known to be decidedly cruel. She is just trying to decide whether or not to leave when she hears voices and decides instead to listen.
"Hey, Alex!" Kendra calls as she walks over the final rise.
Alexis nods thoughtfully, barely looking up from her equations and sketches. "How was the patrol?"
Kendra shrugs. "Very little sign of any kind of civilization for a good fifteen miles. A few boot prints on game trails, but little else. And I think I have figured out why."
Alexis looks up, curious. "Oh?"
Kendra nods. "Water. Unless you can drink from the sea, there is precious little of it here. Next time you send Skite up to do a high-altitude recon, tell him to look for freshwater. I am betting that will be how we find the people that owned that boy." She looks down at the paperwork that Alexis has laid about, some of it trapped under rocks to keep it from blowing away in the stiff breeze. "What are you working on?"
Alexis taps the end of her pencil against her bottom lip as she considers how to explain this idea.
"I think it's safe to say that you and I don't want to stay here forever. So whatever we do to help free these people, it needs to be able to be taken over by them when we leave. But the problem is that trying to build enough equipment to outfit an army to go against a probable demonic horde would take decades and I don't want to be here that long. So I am trying to come up with a shortcut. A powerful one." She frowns. "And I think I have, but the option I came up with is a bit... Ridiculous. And invasive, honestly."
Kendra sits down next to her on the other end of the log bench they've been using. "Invasive how?"
Giving up on glaring at the equations for the moment, Alexis sighs and turns to face Kendra to wrap her head around the ethical issues.
"I feel like I am somehow setting up to be the 'ancient creator' of the McGuffin of some dumb video game or anime, really. Okay, here's what I'm thinking. You tell me how crazy it is. In my position, it's easy to get all caught up in the ability to do it and forget whether or not it's actually a good idea. Basically, it's a new kind of construct creature that steals bits and pieces from a few different types and a spell called 'Magic Jar.' At its core, it's an Effigy. The same thing the sharks that defend the Rig are. I can make all kinds of Effigy creatures as magical and mechanical hybrids. But making them intelligent, even dog-level intelligent, that's a lot trickier. Dawn had an idea of learning from homunculus... Never mind. I'm still not sure that would work. It got me thinking of possibilities though. A re-purposed 'Magic Jar' spell in which you shared a soul with a soul-less construct rather than using it straight out as a tool of possession should allow some level of loyalty and intelligence from the construct. Probably try to mix in some aspects of a shield guardian for good measure, the fast healing and the shield other aspects at least."
Kendra picks up one of the slightly more refined sketches. "What the heck is this?"
Alexis nods at it. "Theoretically, that could be a half-dragon twelve-headed hydra effigy, wingless, with an enclosed and hardened saddle on its back. Capable of healing 10 hit points every six seconds and casting 'shield other' on its bond mate, so magically soaking half the damage they would be taking. The Hydra would have twelve attacks every six seconds for ridiculous amounts of damage and would be crazy hard to hurt unless you have adamantine, which is a metal that I don't think even really exists outside of a game world. With all-around crossbow slits in the saddle enclosure and nothing able to get close enough to mess with the saddle for fear of being torn apart by the hydra, it's one of my favorite designs so far." She frowns at the paper. "Slow, though. A tank, but not something you could use in a hit-and-run."
Kendra just stares at her. "How long?"
Alexis grimaces. "A solid three months. The Effigies themselves aren't so bad but the time on the 'add on' stuff gets nasty. Especially the ability to reassign a new owner by refilling the 'Magic Jar' with a new soul if the first warrior dies. If the partners are irreplaceable then this whole concept is dead in the water though. So they have to be able to be, and more they need to be able to reject any kind of demonic essence or I don't see it going well long term."
Kendra looks down at the labels on the various drawings and starts taking in the sketches of internal workings and cross-referencing them with her own knowledge of creatures she has studied.
Griffon.
Dire Bear.
Manticore.
The list of possibilities goes on and on, there are numerous pages of possibilities and basic sketches of what the mechanism might be.
"So basically, you are going to sit here and tell me with a straight face that your plan to save the people in this hell world is to find some teenagers with attitudes and present them with huge engines of destruction, after which you become the single most useless thing ever. In your case, by leaving." Kendra smirks. "You're right. I think I have seen this show."
Alexis gets a hurt look on her face. "Please don't go there. I'm dealing with serious mental confooslement here."
Kendra shakes her head. "Obviously. We are already in the making up words to self diagnose stage. It must be serious. Just make sure whoever gets the blue one is a smart and clever dreamboat and I'll be happy."
Kendra offers a slight grin as they both giggle a bit at the mental image of Jonathan Levinson in charge of an unstoppable engine of destruction that happened to be painted a cheerful blue color.
"My joking aside, what is the problem?"
Alex tosses her pencil down on the tree stump she's been using as a table.
"A couple of things. First, the whole premise here is to give control to the people by tearing away a little piece of their soul and putting it in a thing. That's not quite the same thing as killing them, but it is an irreversible change, I mean, there's no retirement from a commitment like that. Do I really have the right to do something like this? Especially since I plan to leave afterward?"
Kendra just shrugs. "I think that you are giving them a choice, that is more than the Slayers get. If they make the choice then all you are doing is supplying a tool."
Then Kendra looks a little confused as she shuffles through page after page of ridiculously overbuilt war machines. "Why don't you make things like this for Sunnydale?"
Alexis shrugs. "No way to hide any of it on the Hellmouth. Take this one, one of the smaller, more normal ones." She picks up a piece of paper. "This would appear at first glance to a biologist to be some kind of missing link between a crocodile and a cave bear. It would stand upwards of ten feet tall on all fours and twenty to twenty-two feet reared up on its hind legs. Now imagine trying to use this dire bear and dragon amalgamation as a deterrent on the Hellmouth."
Kendra nods slowly. "So why not make smaller ones?"
Alexis nods. "I would if I could. The homunculi are kind of an oddity in that they are intelligent. Most constructs are pretty stupid and can't learn. So in order to make them more effective fighters, the only choice you have is to make them bigger, more impressive. Stronger. Tougher. Because of the homunculi's connection to their creator, they can fake actual intelligence, which is how they can be as tough and skilled as they are for their size. And honestly, it is this aspect I am trying to grasp a little with the Magic Jar shenanigans. But I have no idea if it'll work right. A lot of this is still all theory, you know."
Kendra nods in thought. "So once we get the camp straightened out, we need a prototype getting built then. How long until we can start that?"
Alexis leans back. "It'll be at least a week. I'll have all three of the Wrights freed up that aren't working on the pads clear by then. We'll have food for you, me, and our guest in two days. Water on a tap in a day. From there we'll just see how things go I guess. I'm thinking pretty seriously about just having the Wrights start a little mining operation into the mountain here. Anything to defray costs a little. Besides, it is a whole new dimension. Maybe they'll find something shiny and new."
Kendra glances toward the tent. "She still hiding in there?"
Alexis nods absently. "Yeah. Purple is keeping an eye on the tent, and she hasn't gone anywhere. I haven't been pushy since we won't have any food until tomorrow anyway. Better she doesn't waste the energy running around or worrying too much.
Kendra gives the tent another look and then nods.
"Fair enough." She drops her eyes and whispers. "What do we tell her about her brother?"
Alexis shrugs, and whispers back. "The truth, when it comes up. We didn't kill him. And we can even give the name of the one that did. It sucks that she comes from a background where this kind of thing happens, but she does. Lying to her about anything I think would just be setting ourselves up to look bad when we got found out."
With that, Alexis continues scribbling at her sketches. Considering different possibilities. While Kendra tries to ignore her stomach has started to eat itself in her hunger and the girl in the tent is still in there looking out. Allowing the fiction of safety to exist due to the few scraps of rubberized canvas that surround her as she listens to them and takes it all in.
>> The House. Giles' Library. 8 PM
Henry is suddenly struck by what the man opposite him is saying.
"What do you mean they're gone? Did they die? Do you mean they died?"
Giles slowly shakes his head. "No, Henry. We've already had word from Alexis via her magic, multiple times. That wouldn't be possible if they were dead. They were dealing with an ongoing demon infestation in Santa Carla and something went wrong. There was suction, a vacuum of some kind, and it forced the two of them into a portal to another world. Alexis believes she can make it back but warns it may be a few months before it can be managed. Additionally, she has added to the information that we have that the world they are in is a hell dimension, controlled by demons. It is called Pylea. Humans there are kept like cattle there. I've taken the time to research it somewhat, and it is..."
Giles rubs the bridge of his nose with his right thumb and forefinger as he considers how to put it. "It is a wretched place, Henry. There are worse, by far. But it is quite horrific. An entire world that is as dangerous as an evening on the Hellmouth. And I suspect that nights there will be even worse than anything we've yet to see here."
He sighs and places his hand back on the table. "Jenny and I have discussed it and we find it unlikely that the two of them will be able to keep themselves out of the local politics, as it were. So while I will not doubt their eventual safe return, I felt you might need to take a more pragmatic view moving forward."
Henry leans back. So many plans potentially trashed now. He looks at Giles. "That girl, Joyce's daughter, Dawn... Is she training to be Alexis' apprentice? We've noticed that they are spending some time in the shop together."
Giles slowly shakes his head. "I don't know where your mind is going Henry, but I recommend that it come to a full stop right there. Dawn is many things, but a replacement for Alexis is not one of them, and won't be for many, many years if ever. I would guess that without Alexis here to train her further she has just barely enough knowledge to truly get herself hurt."
Henry nods, only half paying attention to the other gentleman as his own mind had come to much the same conclusions moments ago anyway.
"Can we contact them? Help them get back somehow?"
Giles shakes his head. "Breaching the walls between dimensions is never something to be done lightly. And frankly, it is far and away too dangerous for us to attempt. To toy with Armageddon to save two people is a step too far. We are simply fortunate that Alexis knows more subtle ways to move across dimensional boundaries, or there would be no way to retrieve them at all."
Henry stands. "So that's it then? We just go along, doing our own thing, and wait to see if they make it back?"
Giles nods, his own face drawn with worry. "Henry, there is nothing else we can do. I truly wish it was different. More than you can possibly know. But this is, unfortunately, the hand they've been dealt and all we can do is move on as best we can."
Henry offers a nod and exits the room, his face a barely held together mask of concern and annoyance. "I have to report this. I'll let you know what I get told if I can."
>> Author's note:
I danced around it a bit, but just so we're clear: I make no claims to any ownership of any rangers. Power or otherwise.
As for the new construct type? No, you won't find it in a Monster Manual. She's entering uncharted waters here, mashing together the better aspects of a few construct types.