Magic Man Charlie Page 13

  Had Charlie learned the specific spells for underwater transit, maybe, just maybe, he could have given them the little extra boost they needed to close the gap. But it seemed that even with the Moses device firing at full power, they were only slightly more than matching pace.

  The magic these guys are using is incredibly specialized. And powerful, he realized. They must’ve spent a pretty penny acquiring someone capable of wielding it.

  The ship shuddered as a loud bang rang out through the hull.

  “What was that?” Leila asked, a look of concern flashing across her face. Charlie instinctively put his arm around her as they both looked at the monitor the captain was so intently staring at.

  “Whale,” she informed them.

  “What’s a whale?” Leila asked.

  “A huge sea animal. Really big, and really peaceful. Kind of like cows, but if the cow was about thirty times bigger and lived underwater.”

  “I think I would have liked to see this whale thing,” Leila said. “Poor creature.”

  “Sorry, it can’t be avoided,” Watkins said. “At this speed, maneuverability has to be sacrificed. It’s a trade-off. Hence the shape and reinforcement of the sub’s prow.”

  “Well, I guess at least it died instantly,” Charlie said. “And it was floating in stasis, so it didn’t feel a thing anyway.”

  “At this speed, it wouldn’t have felt much in any case,” the captain said. “But I’ll tell you what. If this crazy plan works, I’ll gladly take you both on a whale watching expedition when this is all through.”

  “I think I’d like that,” Leila said.

  “Then it’s a deal. But for now, we’ve got to get that ship turned around and heading back toward shore. Charlie, you seem to know something of their tech. Do they have countermeasures aboard?”

  “You mean like sonic chaff? I don’t think so. They’d never have had need for it. Their stuff will be geared toward repelling magical attacks.”

  “Magic,” Watkins grumbled. “Freaking magic. Y’all are just tossing this stuff around like it was normal or something.”

  “Uh, you did see the giant, red dragon, right?”

  “Of course. But at least we got a heads-up about that beforehand.”

  “Her,” Leila corrected.

  “Sorry. Her. But the magic bit. Well, you’d think they would have found that relevant to mention.”

  Charlie understood where she was coming from, though to be honest, she was handling the whole thing far better than he had when he first encountered magic. “So, to answer your question. No chaff,” he reiterated.

  Watkins turned to the crewman to her left. “Cooper, load a Mark-Twelve. Set detonation to forty meters proximity.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “What are you planning on doing?” Charlie asked. “That sounds a lot like you’re going to fire a torpedo.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “No, we can’t do that. Our friend is on that ship. That’s why we have to drive it to shore.”

  “And that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

  “But you said you’re launching a torpedo––and how can you even do that at these speeds?”

  “To your first point, I’m launching a torpedo on a trajectory to pass the ship before it detonates, which should cause them to alter course back toward shore. And to your second point, the torpedoes aboard this sub possess the same technology as the ship itself. And with their decreased mass, they go a lot faster.”

  Charlie realized what she was going to do. Fake a miss and draw out a reaction. It was a classic maneuver. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

  “Ara, we should be forcing them to change course. Can you still sense them?”

  “Yes, but only just. You’re very deep, Charlie, and moving from shore at a high rate of speed.”

  “I know. But if this works, that’ll change in just a minute.”

  “Ready, Captain,” Cooper called out.

  “Fire,” she replied without hesitation.

  A dull gong sound rang out through the hull as the torpedo burst from the bow, piercing the sonic bubble surrounding the front of the sub. “Fish is running straight and hot,” Cooper reported. “Detonation in ten.”

  The assembled crew stared at the screen as the blip closed in on its target. “Five seconds.”

  They held their collective breaths––at least the pair who were actually breathing––as the blip passed the target then went dark. “Detonation confirmed,” Cooper called out.

  The alien ship veered, just as they had hoped.

  “It looks like it’s working,” Charlie said. “We’re still a long way from shore, but at these speeds, we should be back there by the time––” He paused, a look of confusion flashing on his face. “Uh, Captain. Is it supposed to look like that?” he said, pointing to the blip suddenly closing in on them on the screen.

  “That is not normal,” Watkins said, a hint of alarm in her voice.

  Charlie watched in shock as he realized the Tslavar ship was now on a direct course, heading right for them.

  “What the hell are they doing?”

  Chapter Thirty

  “A goddamn Crazy Ivan?” Captain Watkins shouted to the walls. “Seriously?”

  “What’s a Crazy Ivan?” Leila asked.

  “It’s what that crazy sonofabitch is pulling on us. It’s insane. We’ll all die at this speed.”

  “Can we torpedo them?” Charlie asked.

  “We can sure as hell try. Cooper, launch tubes five through seven.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Seconds later, the now-familiar sound of the torpedoes leaving the bubble surrounding the sub rang out.

  “Fishes away, all three running straight and hot.”

  The three flashing lights on the display were quickly closing the gap between the two vessels, which made sense as they were on a collision course. Then, all of a sudden, they froze in place.

  “What the hell happened? Cooper, did we lose them?”

  “No, Captain. They seem to have just stopped.”

  “Stopped? All three?”

  Charlie watched as the Tslavar ship’s blip flashed past the frozen lights of the torpedoes, closing fast.

  “Oh no. This is a mechanical ship. Abort the pursuit! Get us out of here!”

  “What’s happening, Charlie? What are they doing?”

  “No time, captain. We have to get clear before they can––”

  A blast of magic rocked the ship, the metal straining as the drive systems groaned to a halt. The lights stayed on, powered by batteries, but the turbines and generators were suddenly quite silent. As were the air scrubbers.

  “Ara, they hit us with a version of that damn spell. The sub is frozen.”

  “I will relay the information to Cal and the others. Can you surface?”

  “I don’t know. Gotta do a quick sitrep. I’ll let you know in a minute.”

  “What was that, Charlie?” Watkins asked as she quickly surveyed the systems readouts still functioning.

  “A spell. Same one that froze the whole damn planet. Well, a smaller version of it.”

  “But how did it stop the sub? It should have been unaffected.”

  “No, I think it was deep in storage when the first spell was released, so it wasn’t hit. But now it’s out in the open, and got hit at close range, no less. AIs and the most advanced systems aren’t susceptible, but anything mechanical tends to be affected.”

  “This sub is state of the art.”

  “Was state of the art. But that was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. By today’s standards it’s old tech, even if it was mothballed and remained in pristine condition all that time.”

  “Well, shit,” the captain groaned. “So we’ve lost power and all our systems are offline. Just fucking great.”

  Charlie couldn’t help but be amused at her ire. It made sense, of course. The whole situation sucked, but it could be worse, he figured.


  “It’s all right. Once we float up to the surface, they’ll tow us back to shore. But the Tslavars are gonna be long gone by then.”

  Watkins slowly shook her head. “No, Charlie. It’s not that easy.”

  He did not like the look on her face.

  “What don’t I know, Captain?”

  “Long and short of it? We have no power.”

  “Obviously. But that isn’t the end of the wor––”

  “And we’re sinking.”

  That got his attention.

  “Fuck.”

  “You said it.”

  He quickly ran through the scenario in his head, then realized he didn’t possess enough knowledge about the parameters to even make a wild guess.

  “How deep was it where we last had readings?” he asked.

  “Just over nine thousand feet.”

  Fuck.

  “Okay, can this bucket take that kind of pressure?”

  “It should be able to. It’s rated to seven thousand, but they’re always very conservative when they come up with those numbers.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “You keep saying that, Charlie. But it’s not okay.”

  “I know. Just give me a minute.”

  “Ara, you there?”

  “Yes, Charlie. You’re getting hard to hear. What’s happening?”

  “In a nutshell, we’ve lost power, we’re sinking, and if the pressure doesn’t crush us to death, we’ll suffocate soon enough without the air scrubbers. At least the crew is cyborgs, so they aren’t sucking up all the air. But still, on a small sub like this, we won’t have too long.”

  “No, that is not acceptable.”

  “Sorry, but believe me, it’s not by choice.”

  “Can you escape? Is there a hatch, or a––”

  “No go, Ara. We’re already too deep. And besides, the hatches can’t pressurize without power. And thanks to that damn spell, the manual overrides are almost certainly frozen solid. Do you think you can get to us before we get too deep?”

  “You already are,” she replied. “I’m so sorry, Charlie, but my magic simply won’t hold out that far down. And you’re quickly approaching a depth where you’ll even be out of range for us to communicate.”

  Charlie stood quietly a moment, listening to the ship creak and groan as it sank deeper and deeper, the pressure increasing with every atmosphere they passed.

  “Well, I guess it’s time to say it, then. You’ve been a great friend, Ara. The best I’ve ever had, really. When we first met, never in a million years did I think we’d wind up on such an adventure. And while I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this, I’m grateful for our time together.”

  Silence was his reply.

  “Ara?”

  “What is it, Charlie?” Leila asked, noting the look on his face.

  “Nothing,” he replied, wrapping her in his arms.

  A short while later a dull thud echoed throughout the hull as the sub touched down on the ocean floor. Charlie and Leila curled up together on the deck, wrapped in a blanket and nestled in each other’s arms, trying to keep their breathing as shallow as they possibly could. Charlie’s magic was useless. His engineering skills, likewise. And there was nothing he could fight that would make the situation any better.

  Stuck in a little sub on the bottom of the ocean, all they could do was wait.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Captain Sindall reclined in his seat and allowed himself a little smile. Their pursuers had been disabled, and the expenditure of magic against a lone vessel and at such close range was minimal, all things considered.

  It had been quite a surprise, the humans possessing so powerful a craft, and one able to pursue them at great speed beneath the waters, no less. He had no idea they had such a potent form of this tech-magic that allowed them to travel beneath the waves as he did.

  And the weapons they launched at him. Another surprise, though they were easily observable as they approached, unlike a magical attack. Nevertheless, the explosion had been far greater than anticipated, and his vessel had been rocked by it.

  A formidable enemy in any other circumstance. But in this mission, he possessed a tool he was somewhat unfamiliar with having at his disposal––powerful magic beyond anything in his usual arsenal.

  It was almost a shame letting the unusual craft sink to the bottom of the sea, but after the Zomoki’s attack had caught them off-guard, the Tslavar captain was not about to waste a single drop of precious magic that he didn’t have to. The residents of this planet were resilient, and surprisingly powerful. More concerning, some did not appear to be affected by their globe-spanning spell.

  This was a problem. It should have frozen everything, leaving him free to collect his specimens for experimentation and study. Yet it was clear that was not the case. Adjustments had to be made.

  But Captain Sindall was used to plans not going exactly as anticipated. Any with his years of combat and service under their belt would be the same. Plans had a way of going sideways, and only those who learned to adapt would live to fight another day.

  “How is the shimmer coming?” he asked his second-in-command, a lean, wiry man missing the index finger on his left hand from a particularly brutal campaign he had been engaged in, battling bravely at the captain’s side.

  “The Zomoki was powerful, Captain.”

  “Yes, I saw that,” he noted with a wry grin. “She did manage to get the better of us. A clever beast, capable of higher thought. An older one, no doubt.”

  “Indeed, sir. And the amount of damage she wrought with her flames leads me to believe she is even older than any we’ve encountered previously. That she completely eliminated our forces on the ground so entirely required immense power. And our shimmer spell was not only destroyed, but her residual magic is making it exceedingly difficult to cast another.”

  “What?” the captain blurted. “That was a top priority. It should have been nearly complete by now.”

  “I know, sir. But as I said, she was far more powerful than we first assessed.”

  Captain Sindall stroked his angular chin in thought. “Very well. Have the casters keep at it.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “But even with this setback, things are progressing. And how is our Wampeh guest faring?”

  “Stubborn. Strong. Difficult.”

  “Yes, I expect he would be,” the captain said. “We were told he was a dangerous target, but the way he reacts to threat of death or violence makes me wonder.”

  “Sir?”

  “It would seem we very well may have a Wampeh Ghalian in our midst.”

  His second-in-command shifted slightly at the words. Even the fiercest of warriors would be a fool to not be wary of the deadliest guild of assassins in the known systems.

  “Are you sure, sir?”

  “Sure? No, I am not. But I have learned to trust my instincts. And on this, they are telling me this man is more than just an ordinary Wampeh.” He rose from his seat, opened a pouch on his hip, and slid the thick konus held within onto his wrist. “Let’s go pay a visit to our guest.”

  Bawb lay strapped to his table, restraints holding his legs, torso, and wrists firmly. He had no outward bruising or wounds, but that was in no way indicative of the treatment he had received at the hands of his captors.

  Being who he was––and possessing the strength not only of body, but also of mind––the Tslavars had quickly learned that threats of physical violence did not faze the man one bit.

  Captain Sindall figured if his theory about his captive’s true nature was correct, that would make perfect sense. Pain would do nothing against his ilk. But perhaps with magical torture rather than physical, he might eventually manage to break the man.

  That one of the deadly sect was even present on Earth in the first place meant that the planet was far better connected than he had been led to believe. And the state of the planet, as well as the unexpected variables they had been encountering,
all pointed to a far more complex world. One that would potentially be a much greater challenge to subjugate.

  “Hello,” Captain Sindall said as he stepped around the partition separating this one captive from the catatonic others. “I see you are resting comfortably.”

  Bawb turned his head and smiled. He had been thoroughly worked-over, yet his face was as serene as if he’d just woken from a peaceful nap.

  “Nice to see you again, Captain,” he replied. “It seems you’ve had something of an interesting day today.”

  “Oh?” Sindall replied. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because the usual men who visit me throughout the day are not here. And because your ship seemed to have abruptly pushed itself to a rapid pace––so much so that the Drooks powering it couldn’t entirely dampen the effects.”

  “Ah, that. Just playing with the locals,” the captain said.

  “Perhaps,” Bawb replied. “But that does not explain the smell of Zomoki flames that still linger in your ship. Someone didn’t quite get the doors closed in time, perhaps?”

  Captain Sindall had to admit, the Wampeh was good. Observant. He would have to be very careful in choosing his words, lest his interrogation be flipped on its head.

  “It was an interesting encounter, of course. But then, when is a run-in with a Zomoki not?” Sindall said lightly. “Though it is rather interesting, I must admit. I believed this planet did not have a native Zomoki population. Nor Wampeh, for that matter. So, you see, it has been a very enlightening week.”

  “Yes,” Bawb said, still sporting that damned, infuriating smirk. “I suppose that would be a bit disconcerting for an invading force. Discovering your spell did not have quite the effect you intended. And that the defenders of the planet were still quite capable.”

  “But are they?” Sindall countered. “Are they, really? I mean, it was clearly a mighty civilization once, and we deployed that spell in hopes of minimalizing bloodshed as they were brought under the yoke. But something happened here, and despite the unusual defenses that somehow escaped our spell, it is clear as day that something terrible has taken place. The once-mighty civilization appears to have vanished, struck down by an even more powerful adversary. All that remains now are survivors. What I wish to know, is how and why.”