A Secret Man of Blood

Chapter Three

"Scipio has attacked and taken Fort Worth, part of Dunpool's protection against the Skree," Richard Fisk tells Squad as they walk along a platform of Central Station, Anya and Sig to Squad's left and Fisk on his right. "From there he can access the Warrens."

Squad nods. "And if he does that, the Skree could escape. They could overrun the world."

"That's what our projections suggest," Fisk solemnly adds.

"The Warrens long predate humanity and we still don't fully understand what keeps the Skree inside. Even if a path is left open on our side, perhaps the builders designed it in such a way that it won't matter?" Anya suggests hopefully. She looks worried.

"We can't take that risk," Fisk counters as they near the end of an empty platform. "The Skree are a terrible biological weapon. I think they're the last legacy of a vast conflict we couldn't possibly understand – or, I should say, that we don't yet understand. It's my job to understand that conflict and neutralise its effects on us, to tear down the veils of secrecy and protect Samaria from all threats. To that end I'm giving you a mission: go to Dunpool and find out what Scipio is doing."

Squad outlines his requirements. "Certainly. Dunpool is two thousand miles away, across the sundering sea. I'll need—"

A simple gesture from Fisk summons a small bird to his hand. It perches on his finger and he turns to the others. "This is Gaia. She'll transport you and all your equipment to Dunpool."

Sig takes in Fisk's statement about the tiny bird carrying them all two thousand miles, looks first at Fisk's face, then at the little bird on his finger, then back at Fisk's face. He turns to the others. "...I've had some weird conversations before, particularly in my head, but this..."

"Watch," Squad smiles.

Flying from Fisk's finger, the bird approaches one of the station's wide platforms and transforms into its true form, a kelpie. More than a hundred metres long and twenty across, kelpies resemble wingless, metallic dragons or well-built snakes, beautiful in their own way, their eyes a shining electric blue.

"Every spectre gets access to their own private kelpie," Fisk tells Squad. "I wish I could present Gaia under better circumstances than this, but we play the hand we're dealt. Gaia can cover the two thousand miles in twenty hours, so we'll establish contact via sonovox when you reach Dunpool and you can update me on your mission plan. Get some rest onboard." After a strong, brisk handshake, Fisk adds. "Good luck, spectre."

*

Captain Mallory, Sig and Squad sneak as close to Forth Worth as is possible. The captain is a tough, grey-haired soldier with a face like rain-beaten stone; a professional fighter all her days. She turns to the newcomers, who have taken command of the operation.

"Does your DIA friend know what she's doing? That's a powerful magical bombardment she's commanding: at my count over a thousand battlemages, and if it goes wrong..."

"Don't worry," Squad assures her. "Anya's a qualified battlemage, and could have been an officer in the military if she'd chosen that path. She'll break whatever magical barrier's been set up." A crease of worry appears on Squad's handsome face. "Scipio can only have a handful of mages, scrambled together at short notice. These defences are much stronger than I would expect from our reports."

Captain Mallory's face sets in determination. "The only way to find out is to test them."

Sig nods sagely. "Sometimes the only way to get over something is to let it pass through – like a strong curry."

The strike group consists of one thousand battlemages to smash down any resistance and ten thousand elite soldiers to mop up what's left. Scipio's attackers are reputed to number less than a hundred, but they took a fort with a garrison of eight hundred, so they can't be underestimated, and the Skree are a sensitive subject in Dunpool. With each repetition of the name, it grows more and more weighted as if everything terrifying the word calls forth is present. This struggle will be the first public recognition that anything is wrong at Fort Worth, and the higher ups are keen that it should be swift.