East of the Sun, West of the Moon

Chapter Twelve

“Tell Herzer I’m sorry as hell about this, Lieutenant,” Colonel Torill said, shrugging and gesturing at the paper on his desk. “I’d give you all sorts of reports to baffle you with bullshit, but the bottom line is that we’ve got nothing in the way of intel on New Destiny’s intentions. Anything that I told you, Herzer’d already know. Chansa and Celine are going to be involved. That means monsters and probably orcs. They have to take the ship and get the fuel. After that, zippo. There’s no mass movement going on, that’s for sure, but it’s a small unit action so that doesn’t affect you guys.”

“What about observation in and around the reactors, sir?” Destrang asked desperately. “That’s where they’ll have to board. It’s early, yet, but we might at least get a feel for their forces.”

“As far as I know, we have no such observers,” Torill sighed. “Most of them are deep in New Destiny territory and they’re surrounded by troops. Then there’s the problem of real-time intelligence. We’re talking about getting the message across oceans unless there’s a communicator involved and the way we’ve been rolling up New Destiny rings is communications. I’m sorry, son, but we’re screwed for intel.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, gritting his teeth. He’d expected it to be bad, but not this bad. “I’ll head back to discuss this with my superiors, sir.”

“Do that,” Torill said, grinning. “And tell Herzer I said hello.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, getting to his feet and nodding as he left the office.

Torill’s office was located in the special operations section of the War Department. The department had originally been in an ancient castlelike structure that over the millennia had served various purposes, most notably as a museum. As the need for more and more bureaucracy grew, or at least appeared to grow, buildings and wings had been hastily added to the structure and they now surrounded it in a giant growth that resembled nothing so much as an out-of-control cancer.

SpecOps was set well back from the main road, out on the fringe in more ways than one. The hodgepodge of buildings was cut by dirt roads, walkways, breezeways and cul-de-sacs in a chaos that had caused more than one unlucky ensign to wander into the office of a senior officer so confused he could barely remember his name.

Destrang had navigated the maze before but he only knew certain paths and stuck to them religiously. He was just passing out of the SpecOps section and into SouthWestern Command Logistics when he heard his name called.

“Destrang, right?” a colonel said, wandering over and putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Been looking for you, lad.”

“Yes, sir?” Destrang said, frowning slightly.

“Give me a moment of your time, lad?” the colonel said, gesturing towards one of the breezeways. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“Yes, sir, of course,” Destrang said. He briefly had a paranoid thought related to his current assignment, but he was in the middle of the War Department. If New Destiny could slip an agent in here it was one thing. Bashing a lieutenant over the head and smuggling him out was another.

“So what do you think of your new assignment?” the colonel asked bluffly. “Going to space and all that? Worked out the plumbing, yet, eh? Eh?” he added with a hearty laugh.

“I’m not sure what assignment you’re referring to, sir,” Destrang replied. “You’re here at the War Department?”

“Logistics old son,” the colonel said, grinning. “Bullock trains and whatnot. Done a bit of personnel work as well, you know, a commander works from sun to sun but a staffer’s work is never done, eh? Had my eye on you when you were in Officer Basic but you got scooped up by that old scamp Edmund, what?”

“I’ve met the duke, sir,” Destrang admitted. It was certainly open source.

“What do you think of working for Herrick, eh?” the colonel asked. They had passed through SouthWest Logistics and were now in Army logistics where the breezeway was somewhat more crowded.

Destrang considered that question and then nodded.

“Major Herrick is a good officer,” he allowed. “Do you know the major, sir?”

“Never met him,” the colonel replied, turning into a small building. He nodded at a heavy-set triari sergeant, then opened up an inner door. “He’s tighter than a gnat’s ass,” he added to the man behind the desk. “I’m not sure he’d have admitted his name if it wasn’t sewn on his uniform.” The colonel’s accent had drifted away and his manner had become brusque to the point of rudeness. If the person in civilian clothes behind the unadorned desk took offense it wasn’t apparent.

“Good,” the man said. “Sit, Lieutenant.”

Destrang looked at the colonel, who nodded.

“He outranks me, Lieutenant,” the colonel noted. “Sit.”

“And are you a real colonel?” Destrang asked coldly.

“Very,” the colonel replied, gesturing him inside and closing the door.

Destrang sat carefully in the room’s single unoccupied chair and looked around. The room was entirely unadorned and all there was in it was the desk, the chair for the occupant and the chair he occupied. The room also had no windows and was lit by a lamp. It was stiflingly hot.

“My name is T,” the man said. He was tall and spare with a shock of black hair. “You’re wondering if I’m going to pump you about your mission. I am not. I know everything I need to know about it and if there’s anything I don’t know I’ll get it from Edmund. I’m here to give you information. Some of it, frankly, is well above your level. So you’re just going to have to be moved to a different level, Lieutenant. If you had said so much as one word to Colonel Clifton, we wouldn’t be having this conversation and you’d be out of Herzer’s command before you returned. Clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said uneasily.

“Colonel Torill told you there was no information available about your opponents. There is, in fact, very little. I am going to tell you what there is available. Then I’m going to tell you what we suspect. Then I’m going to tell you why there is so little available, which means we’re going to have to get into means and methods. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, swallowing. Means and methods meant that he would be told how information was gathered. Very rarely was such information passed to those who would use it, for the very simple reason that they might be captured and reveal sources.

“T” sat back in his chair and sighed. “Frankly, getting into means and methods in this case is not that big of a deal. Especially since it’s a litany of failures. But we will. Listen carefully because none of this gets put in writing. There was a meeting three days ago between Celine, Chansa and Reyes. A physical meeting which is believed to have taken place somewhere in Celine’s domain. The agenda is not available but Reyes returned to his domains accompanied by a new orc, a Ropasa version orc, and one of their Changed elves for which we now have their name: Dark Ones. Very dramatic, very Celine and all that. Given that Chansa is tightly involved in the war against us and Celine never leaves her domains in person, it is believed that Reyes is, therefore, the designated Key-holder to be sent on the mission to recapture the fueling shuttle, Miss Travante’s opposite, in other words.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, nodding.

“Celine’s involvement means there will be some of her monsters, but that was obvious. What they will be we have no idea. One of my analysts who specializes in trying to read her insane mind believes that they will be some sort of arthropod mod, similar to the scorpions that attacked Megan Travante. This is based upon her habit of… patterning in development. She tends to work in one particular kingdom or genus and then move to another. She initially centered around mammals, humans and elves along with a few others, there are some creatures we haven’t seen here in Norau that were used in the Sind wars, then moved on to upsizing reptiles and now seems to be working with arthropods, apparently having overcome the structural and metabolic issues with them.

“But he’s been wrong before. There will assuredly be orcs, but Reyes’ involvement means that they will probably be Mod Two form orcs, you know the difference?”

“No, sir,” Destrang admitted.

“Data on Reyes Cho, what we have, and on his Mod Two orcs will be forwarded to you and Herzer by courier. They’re referred to as Durgar for reasons that are too complicated to bother explaining at this time. Basically, they’re physically lighter than Ropasan orcs, darker of skin and use different weaponry. They have some elven mods, but they don’t have elven speed, strength or gaslan. They are a tad faster fighters and highly mobile on foot, not that that should be an issue on the ship. We have an unconfirmed report that some of them are being fitted with space armor. I’m working on getting more confirmation and, hopefully, a schematic of the armor, before you leave.

“On the subject of Reyes, he’s almost as much a mystery as everything else,” T admitted. “He was recommended by Paul Bowman to replace Tetzacola Duenas who was killed in the initial council fight. But he was not an associate of Paul’s prior to the Fall so someone else must have recommended him. He was one of the generals in the battles against Ishtar in Taurania, specializing in hit and run raids.

“Physically, he is described as good looking and is generally a blond. He has brutal tastes in women and maintains a harem, as Paul did, but no one comes out of it alive. His orcs are, if anything, more cruel than the Ropasan version. Letting any members of the team be captured, alive, would be unwise.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, gulping.

“Now to what we don’t know and why we don’t know it,” T said. “Celine has taken the domain along the Nira River, and it is now referred to in internal documents as ‘Stygia’ which is simply an ancient word meaning—”

“Dark or darkness, sir,” Destrang interjected. “One of the rivers of Hades, if I recall correctly.”

“You do,” T said. “The river is flanked to the east and west by desert. To the north is the Toran Sea and the south is Frika, which is Chansa’s domain. Crossing deserts is no problem; there is an animal called the camel that can cross them quite easily. So, to find out what was happening in ‘Stygia’ I sent a team on camels to reconnoiter, infiltrate and, hopefully, develop intelligence on her monsters before they hit us. The team did not return. Comments?”

“Various reasons, sir,” Destrang said, shrugging. “They could have been intercepted on entry, rolled up inside, etcetera.”

“So I thought,” T admitted. “So I sent another team, telling them to be more careful on entry, the previous team had masqueraded as traders, be cautious in developing information and what have you. They never reported back. Comments?”

“Ouch?” Destrang said.

“Ouch, indeed,” T said, his jaw flexing. “So I sent a third team. This one wasn’t supposed to penetrate at all. It was just supposed to find out what was stopping the other teams. Since it wasn’t there for intelligence gathering, I could choose virtually anyone. So I assembled a team of rogues, mercenaries, cutthroats, most of them convicted criminals. They were given the promise of freedom, and gold, if they just made it back with any information. One did. One. And he frankly admitted that what he did when they got hit was run like hell. So, what does Celine produce?”

“Monsters,” Destrang answered, shaking his head. “Sir.”

“Monsters,” T replied. “What they got hit by was a pack of very large, poisonous snakes. The agent reported that they were larger than anaconda, partially armored, and their fangs appeared to be metal since they went right through the unit’s armor. They attacked from within the sands, apparently lying in ambush having determined the team’s direction of approach.

“Why the monsters do not wipe out the inhabitants is the question. And there are inhabitants. The Nira River is a trade route to inner Frika. Various materials flow down it, somehow, and it produces a surplus of food which is sent to the various New Destiny regions. It even trades with Ishtar’s Tauranian domains. Caravans cross the desert. The caravans are guarded by very large… probably not Changed. They look to be uplifted gorillas or baboons, heavily modified to survive desert conditions. Extremely vicious and incredibly strong. Anyone or anything approaching the caravan other than through permitted lanes is killed without warning.”

“Uplift is proscribed, sir,” Destrang noted.

“A proscription that the New Destiny Council has apparently overridden,” T replied with a shake of his head. “None of the caravan drivers interact with anyone outside the caravan. The only contact is the caravan master and his assistants who are acolytes of Celine. I tried to penetrate the delta at the head of the Nira River using delphino and selkie. They survived, but only because the delphinos turned tail when they saw that the region was populated by very large sharks and something that they said looked very much like an extinct pleyosaurus. I haven’t tried through Frika, yet. I’m almost afraid to think what she has there. That, of course, is where the Stanel reactor resides. I can imagine what she guards that with.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, sighing.

“They also use ships through the delta,” T noted. “We managed to capture one of the sailors. However, when we started to interrogate him, a mark on his forehead flashed red and he died, rather horribly.”

“Shit,” Destrang said, shaking his head.

“So, tell Herzer that it’s unlikely that I’ll know what she is going to throw at him until, maybe, the last moment. I have observers around some of the reactors that they will use for extraction, but reporting back will be difficult. I will try to get the information, but I have a finite number of teams that are capable of what these men do and I won’t throw them away lightly.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said.

“Stygia is an enigma wrapped in a puzzle,” T mused. “I have no idea where Celine resides, where her labs are or, for that matter, how the place is organized. But I suspect the answer is: Horribly.”

“We’ll know when we win, sir,” Destrang said.

“Yes,” T said. “And I suspect we won’t want to. We’re done here, get back to Herzer. All of the information is his or Miss Travante’s ears only.”

“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, standing up.

“The colonel will show you out.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, then paused. “Sir, is he a real colonel?”

“He is now,” T replied. “I had him appointed when he got back from the recon mission in Stygia.”