THE VROL TRILOGY (67 page)

"Well, it's too bad you didn't get to bring
it with you. We have an old, rusty blade you can use on the raid,"
said Miles.

"That sounds great. When do we go?" asked
Max, happy that he had been able to survive so far.

"We'll attack tonight. We can use the
tunnel."

"What tunnel do you mean?" asked Max.

"It's a… shortcut. Mage stuff they left,"
responded Indie.

Max gave them a surprised look and nodded,
his face growing into a grin, as if he really liked the idea of
using advanced technology to get the jump on a possibly innocent
group of people.

"Okay, I'm in. Hey, how was your full moon?
Had a good time?"

Max asked Miles, simply wanting to get a bead
on what happened to lycans all over his new world, figuring that
things could be different in alternate locations.

"Oh man, this time it sucked for me, my mate
being with child. It's usually a big ‘ol party, everyone nakeds n
stuff, but having a pup is worth it. How was yours?"

"Oh yeah, it was great. Man I went crazy.
Even beat up some nekos!"

"Hah! Awesome! I knew I liked you, Max!"

Miles looked overjoyed at Max's comment about
beating up nekos. It was appearing more and more that the pack
leader enjoyed preying on the weak. That was something Max felt he
would need to eventually deal with - on harsh terms.

"Tonight it is, then," said Max, "and do you
have a name for your group?"

"We're Lykanrol," responded Miles, "and I'm
the leader of course."

Chapter 11 - Hello, Gabe

Jennie's normally beautiful face was
contorted into a visage of rage and blind hunger. Her brother had
obediently lashed her up high in the closest tree, half-knowing
what was to come to pass. He knew that the cannibal virus could
temporarily affect a lycan, and that also, on rare occasions, the
effect was permanent. All he could do was simply pray that it
wasn't the case with his little sister.

Jennie flailed about, gnashing her teeth as
she pulled desperately (and mindlessly) at her bonds. Bagatelle
could do nothing but stand back and make sure that the ropes held
fast. All of the other afflicted had been corralled into their
caves, never to know the sweet touch of the sun again. They would
expire from lack of nutrition, as afflicted never ate the brains of
other afflicted. Something just didn't smell right about cannibal
brains, and smell was what attracted them.

Miroslav, one of Jennie's sergeants,
approached cautiously. He looked upon the face of his commander
with great despair while her body tried to burn the virus into
oblivion. Only the weakest of lycans would fail to do so, so all of
Jennie's recon troops kept their faith. They simply had to wait it
out. Looking at his new ensign, Bagatelle, he put a hand on the
man's shoulder, knowing that the newcomer was more preoccupied than
anyone.

###

"Query: My Lord, is it really necessary to
call upon one with such an intense hatred of not only the Taxiarch,
but also mankind as a whole?"

"Socrates, my dear fellow, I am afraid that
we must. Yes, we must. It is precisely that hatred that will bring
us to Mija-El. You see, Gabriel despises his brother so that he
keeps a constant eye on him. You know the saying - keep your
friends close, but keep your enemies closer."

"Yes my Lord, I am aware of that archaic
phrase. Your logic is sound. Query: Shall we go to the Hub?"

Draagh nodded his head at the
semi-transparent floating mask. It wasn't necessary for him to rely
upon Socrates for transport to the Hub, as he could use his staff
at any time, but it was quick and easy. In but a fraction of a
second the old mage found himself in his offices - an expansive
chamber that looked as if it were in a castle somewhere in medieval
Europe, but was actually nowhere. It was completely outside of the
realm of space and time. A human, if left there, would not age. He
or she would simply exist for eons without sprouting even a gray
hair. It wouldn't even be necessary to eat food.

Draagh brought up an infoscreen,
scanning various timelines and realities as he looked for Gabriel's
presence. He tried to
not
do
the one thing that he actually could - as Gabriel was his son he
could simply command the archangel's presence, but Draagh needed to
show some respect - respect that was not deserved, but respect
nonetheless.

Draagh looked into multiple worlds,
scanning for Gabriel, hoping to detect his unique signature. In
each world he saw only trace amounts of the archangel's presence.
Gabriel was indeed busy in all of the worlds of the multiverse, but
he did not stay in one spot for any great length of time. Draagh
then started to throw out signals - ways of letting Gabriel know
that his father was there - that he perhaps wanted to be found. He
had Socrates create targeted
communicanters
, controlling what Max would have
called
communibots,
effectively sending out an invitation for Gabriel to go to
the Hub. From that point on all he had to do was sit and wait, so
he spent his non-existent time putting together some lesson plans
for his granddaughter, Liliana.

###

While all of the recon team was busy making
sure the afflicted had no means of escape from their tunnels,
Bagatelle stayed near Jennie, who was slumped forward and had
apparently burnt through the cannibal virus that infected her
system. Curious, he poked her in the arm in order to elicit a
response, but none came. Thinking she was passed out, he started to
loosen her restraints, but was unable to move away quickly enough
when she lashed out and bit him on the hand. Shocked and nearly
unable to speak, he looked at the broken skin on his hand as
salubots quickly repaired the wound. Unfortunately, the cannibal
virus had infected his system. Jennie was out of her bonds faster
than he could react. He saw her run off in slow motion towards the
others in the recon team, but they were quick to act and avoid her.
However, they were unaware of Bagatelle's infection as he ran over
towards his compatriots - men who looked like food to his
now-infected sensibilities. He managed to bite two of his fellow
recon team members before they could defend themselves.
Fortunately, no one was killed, but what had happened turned into a
chain reaction, resulting in all of the captured afflicted
escaping, and the infected lycans running about sniffing the air
for new, uninfected victims.

Jennie had sprinted off as the last remnants
of the cannibal virus waned from her system, bringing reason back
to her mind. Realizing where she was and what had happened, she
quickly climbed a tree and used her gauntlet to perform a
magnification cantus. She wanted to see where everyone was and then
formulate a plan to keep them from reinfecting each other, which
would have basically kept them in a perpetual state of infection.
Infect, burn out, infect, burn out, and on and on it would go.

She watched her brother as he ran around the
perimeter. She needed to get him to safety as soon as he showed
signs of recovery, but she couldn't let herself be caught off-guard
again. Bagatelle was slowing down, and started to wander off so
Jennie jumped down and swept around, flanking his position. Jennie
hid behind a tree, waiting for Bagatelle to approach. It looked as
if he was going to reach her on his own, but some afflicted
soldiers smelled his change and started to move in his direction.
She had no choice but to dart towards her brother. Seeing his
confused and dull expression, she punched him in the face, knocking
him unconscious. She then executed a gravicantus and levitated
herself up with him over her shoulder. Tying him to some high
branches in a tree, she determined that she was going to get the
whole situation under control once and for all.

Jennie floated over the afflicted as they
desperately jumped up, trying to get at her. Moving out quickly to
draw them away from her brother's tree, they followed, encircling
her position. Still safe at a height of eight meters above their
heads, she prepared a push cantus of the greatest power she could
muster through her katana. She only had one shot in her plan, and
if it failed it would be up to her to recover her brother and to
try and save them.

"
G, can you
hear me? Are you healed yet?"
She touched her comm
emblem, calling out to her brother, and waited a minute for his
response.

"
Yeah Jennie,
I'm good now. Damn, that thing kicked my ass. My head
hurts.
"

"
Oh, sorry
sweetie. That was me."

"
What
was?"

"
I punched
you. Had to get you to safety without getting bitten. You aren't
mad, are you?
"

Jennie heard her brother laugh as he
waved to her. "
Excellent command decision,
little sister. What's the plan now?
"

"
I'm going to
drop into the crowd and try to knock everyone unconscious with a
push cantus. If I fail you'll totally need to get me to safety so
we can try again. Got it?
"

Bagatelle nodded at his little sister and
watched her drop into the crowd beneath her levitated position.
Immediately, every single afflicted was blown back into a heap of
unconsciousness. Bagatelle was out of his tree and down at Jennie's
side in a flash, as they two started to physically drag their
compatriots to a nearby and tree and tie them up before they
regained consciousness. One by one the afflicted lycans came to
their senses - with the exception of one - a youth by the name of
Lucius. Jennie was crushed to see that someone so young was
irreversibly infected, but she couldn't leave him with the humans.
She took a muzzle mask and chains, and had him properly restrained.
It was her intention to take Lucius back to Krynos' castle to see
if her grandfather-in-law could do anything, as he was capable of
doing many, many things. When all seemed hopeless, Draagh would
come to the rescue.

###

"You called, Father? I could scarcely believe
it when I saw your poorly constructed attempts at communication.
Why did you not command my presence, as you so often did in the
past?"

Gabriel was standing in the middle of
Draagh's chambers. He was rather large, about the same size as his
father. The archangel was built for battle, and it showed. He had
cut his blonde, flowing locks that typically went past his
shoulders, and was wearing what appeared to be military-style
clothing from Earth's late 20
^th
century - desert camouflage.

"My son, I must say I do find that your garb
fits you well. In other words, it is a good look. Yes, quite
good."

"Can you please answer my question, instead
of repeating yourself and speaking in circles as you have always
done?"

Draagh sighed almost inaudibly. He looked
around his chambers, saw Socrates floating quietly in the corner,
and was about to speak when the sentient computer interjected.

"My Lord Gabriel. It was I who created the
calls out to you. That would explain their poor construction."

"Socrates, your work was just fine. I just
find it hard to compliment my father on anything. Might I say, it
is good to see you? I have been using your progeny, Aristophanes.
He has been quite useful. You should be proud."

"My Lord, we do not have what one would call
pride, but I convey gratitude for your kind remarks."

"My son," continued Draagh, "I have called
you for a reason. I do not wish to waste your time, as I am sure
you are quite busy with whatever it is you are doing, but I am in
need of your assistance."

"You!? You need my help? Are you
serious? Draagh, the greatest of all the
Prīmulī
, needs the help of his least-favored
son? What in the multiverse could I ever do to help one such as
you?"

Gabriel had set up Draagh's question
without even knowing it. He
was
the least-favored son, as Mija-El, or Michael, truly was a
marvel of creation. He was good in heart and nature, always sought
to assist others and was a beast in the heat of battle. Gabriel, on
the other hand, only sought to inflict damage and fight. His aura
could be so negative that an untrained minor mage would detect his
presence as demonic at best.

"I seek Mija-El. But not for the reasons you
may think."

"I knew it! Michael, Michael, Michael! Always
Michael! Could you not call on me to join you in battle? Or to
assist in one of your insane experiments with a nascent culture on
the far side of the galaxy?"

Draagh nearly rolled his eyes at Gabriel's
rant. Aside from assisting during the Battle of the Blood, the old
mage rarely, if ever, engaged in battle, and had not experimented
on the undeveloped for hundreds of centuries.

"Gabriel, I no longer fight. I have left that
task in your most capable hands. I only now seek to assist my
family, and am willing to assist you. But I must ask if you know
where Michael resides. He does not answer my summons, and I have
scanned world after world and have seen no sign of him. Do you know
why this would be?"

Gabriel slowly walked around Draagh's
expansive office, even moving near Socrates and playfully waving a
finger through the computer's visage, causing a stream of particles
to follow his hand and then quickly flow back and completely
reconstitute his face.

"Father, why would I even let you know where
my detestable brother is, even if I knew?"