DERAILED REVOLUTION © LAVABAT 2016-2017

FOREWORD

Special thanks go to Vikki (rubbervixen @ FA) for allowing me to use parts of an old story seed of hers when creating my story world. Her idea of a planet with a night period three times longer than the daytime was too cool not to use, as was her name for the island continent of Sodanglier. I would also like to give credit to Stoker (stokerbramwell @ FA), who’s questions about my Chimera species forced me to develop them into something more than interesting ideas.

ACT 1 – JOINING THE VOLK

Seven followed the Volkssturm soldier closely. Both he and his guide were Chimeras. Their species was made by the Architects, the genetically modified descendents of planet Lantrei’s original human colonists. They were bipedal hybrids whose species was the result of scientists adding wolf and vampire bat DNA into a base genome template. Centuries ago Chimeras were likened to the creatures from the fictional Island of Doctor Moreau. 

They had no problem moving across the uneven terrain of the cave. They easily climbed up and down uneven surfaces, and jumping to and from ledges that no Architect could have. While they could have used their secondary vocal chords to echolocate their way around, Ian had opted to use headlamps instead. It was easier for him to keep track of Seven this way. The last thing he wanted was to lose Seven in the complicated cave system that the Volkssturm’s fifth commando had made its base in. 

After crossing a seemingly arbitrary point of the cave, Ian spoke. “We should be safe now. We can break noise discipline from this point on.”

He slung his assault rifle over his shoulder. “The base is not much further. We can rest if you need to.”

Seven was breathing heavier than usual. But he wasn’t panting. “I’m fine, Ian. Let’s keep going.”

Ian nodded.

The red and white, fox like Chimera had a can-do attitude, but he tired quickly. His cardiovascular fitness needed to be improved, and he needed to put some weight on. As an entertainer from the ‘Cult’ of the Silver Flower he didn’t need a lot of endurance, but if he had any chance of becoming a soldier in the Volkssturm, he would need as much endurance as he could get. 

After rounding a sharp bend in the tunnel, they finally came to the entrance to the ancient bunker that the Volkssturm had made into their base of operations.

Seven sank down onto one knee to give his fatigued leg muscles something of a rest. He cocked his head sideways as looked at the two apartment sized blast doors at the end of the tunnel.

‘How the hell did they get something that large in here?’ he wondered. ‘I know the Volk have good engineers… but I’m pretty sure this defies the laws of physics! They’re larger than the bloody tunnels!’

He took his headlamp off and shone the light onto the doors. They were rusted, stained, and covered in large dents made by who knows what. Clearly, they were not made by the Volkssturm. Which made him wonder, who did?

While he was lost in his own thoughts, Ian activated the communications system that had been built into the doors frame centuries ago. After he had given the correct passphrases the doors slowly began to slide open. 

The two doors slid on their tracks, making a rumbling that was more felt than heard. In fact, the doors were silent. Seven looked back at the door as they passed through it. He frowned and cocked his head sideways. The inside of the door was dented, as far as he could tell, from the outside. 

‘What could have caused that?’ he wondered Ian whistled to get his attention.

He turned around. There were two Volkssturm soldiers coming towards them. They were not dressed or armed like the Waffen-Volk in the various propaganda holovids Seven had seen. They were dressed in a mix of drab green combat jackets, and civilian style paramilitary pants. One of the soldiers, a grey and white furred female Chimera, wore a military style leotard and leggings. It was a style common among the Colonists who settled on Lantrei millennia ago, and had come back into fashion once again. 

As one of the soldiers frisked Seven, the other chatted with Ian. Seven noticed that the soldier was wearing an older style rucksack, and had some kind of civilian level ballistic armour on. They were not as well equipped as most believed, but it didn’t concern Seven. They were better equipped than any resistance group he had ever seen. And everyone knew propaganda holovids were never completely accurate.

The black furred Chimera talking to Ian looked at Seven. He shook his head. The red and white furred boy looked like he had been printed less than ten years ago. He wore a distinctive silver tunic with black bands on the arms. It was the kind of tunic that was only worn by the so-called Cult of the Silver Flower, a guild of actors and entertainers that masqueraded as a religious order.

“You actually think we can make a soldier out of that?” he asked Ian.

Seven started to say something, but Ian cut him off. “We made a soldier out of you. Also, where’s your salute corporal?”

The guard looked at Ian’s rank slide, and promptly gave him the Volk’s salute when he saw that Ian was a sergeant.

The soldier clenched his right fist and placed it on his left shoulder, as per Volkssturm protocol.

Formalities over, Ian continued talking to the guard as he walked back to the bunker he was guarding. Seven didn’t really listen to the conversation. His life in the Amontil Chimera arcology had taught him to mind his own business. It was safer than knowing too much.

Seven looked around the base. There were three bunkers around ten meters in front of the blast doors. They were made from roughly squared logs and had been covered in plasteel plates. Behind them a fence was an empty space around one hundred meters wide. Beyond that was a wire fence that looked like it was covered in razor wire. There were also some more bunkers. Seven couldn’t see what they were protecting, but it had to be important.

What intrigued Seven the most, however, was the large, village like collection of buildings on the left side of the bunker. It appeared to have been made using the same materials as the bunkers, and seemed to be better made than most of the other buildings. Most of the buildings were house sized, and several were double story with simple balconies. There were three buildings that were three to four story towers. Everything was neatly arranged in two rows, like any typical Sodanglian village.

While Seven was looking at the collection of buildings, gun fire rang out. He instantly fell down onto the ground, near the bunker. He made himself as flat as possible. Ian knelt beside him, unconcerned about the noise.

“It’s OK Seven. It’s a training exercise.” 

“That’s Silhouette City” he said as he gestured to the mock city. “That’s our main training ground. We use blanks and small pyrotechnic charges to simulate combat as realistically as possible. The more real it is, and the harder we play it, the more we learn.”

Seven’s ears were flat against his head, his pupils were wide with fright, and his tail was between his legs. 

Ian assured Seven that it was nothing to be afraid of as a series of snaps and bangs rang out, followed by a shrill shriek and a small explosion.

Seven got to his feat slowly.

Ian put his arm around the on edge Chimera. “You will be put through your paces there during your training. But that will be much later on. Come on, we will get the interview over with, then get your kit, find you a bunk, and get you settled in.”

He took Seven through the ‘cut-line’, the line that separated the bases outer and inner perimeters and which would act as a killing field if the base was ever assaulted. The veteran soldier noticed a dim light in one of the bunkers, and in one of the sniper hides that overlooked the cut-line. He sighed in frustration. He knew the marksman on duty. He trained her. How many times had he told her to not break light discipline? How many times had he told her not to check her phone while on duty, or during Firstnight, Secondnight, or Thirdnight for that matter? She could check it during the eight hours of daytime, but no, she had to check it during the twenty four hours of night!

He would have to bring it up at the next debriefing. 

“Is something wrong?” asked Seven, noticing Ian’s change in mood.

“No no” Ian lied as they walked past the buildings scattered around in front of the warehouse.

“Those are our barracks. You will probably have to share one with some of the other recruits, but you may get lucky.”

As they got closer to the warehouse, Seven noticed that it was covered in plasteel panels like the bunkers, and that it had a number of small, rectangular openings in the wall below the window line. They were too small for windows, and not in the right place for ventilation. 

‘Are they for looking out of, or firing out of?’ he wondered as he was led inside.

Once inside they were greeted by a tall, attractive female Chimera. She had tan and white fur, short canine teeth, and short, narrow ears. Her brown hair gave her a tomboyish look, but her poise and grace gave her an elegance that many noblewomen would envy. She smiled warmly, and looked Seven over from head to toe, blushing slightly as she did so. Seven didn’t know if it was love at first sight, but it was definitely something. 

She saluted Ian. “You’re late Sergeant. Did you have trouble getting back here?”

Ian returned her salute. “Yes, Captain Farlight. We ran into White Water mercenary patrol.”

Johanna crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “How many were there?”

“Two four man fireteams. They didn’t seem too interested in chasing anyone.”

The captain frowned. “That’s odd… I want a full SALUTE report as soon as possible. I will interview our new prospect…”

She grinned at Seven. “Warrant Officer Raider hasn’t finished tonight’s advanced classes yet. That’s all for now Sergeant.”

Ian smirked as he saluted. He knew that Johanna had ulterior motives, but as long as it didn’t affect her as a commander, what did it matter?

She gestured to Seven with her fingers, beckoning him to follow her. “This way young man. I am Captain Johanna Farlight. Sorry for the informality.”

He followed her into an office and took a seat at Johanna’s request.

“This is an interview we do with all our potential recruits. Tell me, what do you know about the Volkssturm?”

Seven was nervous, but did his best not to let it show. “The Volkssturm, People’s Storm, is a Chimera army fighting for the rights and liberties of Chimeras. It seeks the emancipation of our species, and unlike other resistance groups, it isn’t sectarian in nature. Nor does it seek to replace Architect tyranny with Chimera tyranny.”

Johanna nodded. “Excellent. What’s the worst thing you have heard about the Volkssturm?”

“I have heard that the Volk invented the vector-yeast, and brews morphine-beer to fund its operations. I have also heard that it is only interested in accumulating power, and that it sends dissidents on suicide missions. Oh, and they torture prisoners, kill women and children, rape and pillage… all the usual stuff terrs are accused of.”

As Seven was speaking, Johanna got out her phone and made some notes. The holographic screen that her phone projected was green, and Seven couldn’t really see what she was writing with her stylus.

“We don’t sell the morphine-beer we brew. We use it in our hospitals. And we didn’t make the vector-yeast. That was some group of biohackers with debts to criminals. And none of the other accusations are true. We are not terrorists, terrs to use Architect vernacular. We are an army, and we are motivated by our love for our species.”

Johanna placed her stylus and phone down and lent forwards, resting her muzzle on the palms of her hands. “Tell me about yourself. What’s your name? Where are you from?”

A sly look crept across the older Chimera’s muzzle.

Seven fur pricked up and his ears turned red as he blushed. He hadn’t expected the interview to be this informal.

“I… My name is Seven Vester. I am not part of any clan. I was bought by the Cult of the Silver Flower from a Chimera shelter when I was three months old, chronologically speaking…”

He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Johanna could see he was becoming uncomfortable with this particular topic.

Seven continued. “Something went wrong when I was printed, and I have some mild autism like symptoms… due to chemical imbalances in my brain… The noble who originally bought we abandoned me, and the cult took me in as part of some ‘adopt Chimeras for a tax break’ charity thing. I was moved from South Island to Sodanglier, near the Ashfell Mountain Ranges… I-”

Johanna reached out and touched his cheeks gently, and smiled warmly while he blushed. There was something about the boy that made her feel motherly towards him. He seemed like a sensitive soul, with a little brother like personality. She found it really endearing for some reason.

“Do you know how your implants work?”

“Yeah… they have reservoirs of chemicals that are slowly released into my brain. I… I have all the specs on my phone… along with all my medical records…”

“We will get the medics to have a look at those” said Johanna. “How about we go for a walk? We should get your tag implant permanently disabled.”

Seven meekly replied “OK” and blushed as he stood up and followed Johanna. She made him feel at ease in a way he had never felt before.

Once they had left the office Seven realized something. “uh… Johanna, Ma’am… my tag implant disabled before I came here. The Volkssturm contact in Amontil infected it with a virus… or something“

Johanna explained “the virus does knock them out, but we have to subject it to a small EMP to make sure it stays that way.”

Seven didn’t reply. He was too busy enjoying the view of the officer’s derriere as she led him through the warehouse. He noticed some heavily reinforced rooms so their right, but his attention was soon back on Johanna’s rear end. He blushed heavily when he realized that she was deliberately swaying her tail and hips to give him a better show. She giggled as she led him into the workshop at the back of the building.

Seven fidgeted. “So, my tag is still, potentially, broadcasting my location, my status, and so on?”

Johanna fetched the homemade EMP generator. “Probably not, but better to be safe than sorry. Even if it was broadcasting information, there are no functioning tag readers in the base.”

The devices circuitry was house in a clear plastic box of some sort, which was a good thing. It looked like an electric shock accident waiting to happen. The circuit board itself looked like it was either homemade or salvaged. Most of the electronics in on the board looked store bought, but it didn’t make Seven any more comfortable having it near him.

She smiled mischievously as she placed the device on his wrist. “What’s wrong sweetie? You look flustered.”

Seven blushed again, before changing the subject. “This isn’t not going to mess up my other implants, is it?”

The captain’s voice was reassuring. “No, it’s a very weak EMP. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

She flicked the switch before he could reply.

“There. You see? Nothing to worry about. The EMP doesn’t bite; nor do I… much…”

Seven knew that it would be a few hours before they would know for certain if his other implants had survived, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

Johanna placed both her hands on his cheeks. 

“Well, we better get you over to the medics. You need to be given the once-over, and you will need to tell them about your implants and medical conditions. As long as it doesn’t affect your physical abilities you won’t have anything to worry about. Then we need to get your kit issued, and get you into your classes with the other intakes.”

Seven almost felt like he was in a trance, or something similar. He could have stared into her eyes for eternity. To call them sapphires wouldn’t have done them justice. They were a deep, rich, ultramarine blue. 

“…Yeah…” he replied.

Johanna snared his collar with a finger and ‘pulled’ him to the workshop’s back door. She let go when they got outside. While she had always been up front when it came to the men she liked, this kind of behaviour was really pushing the boundaries. She may have got away with it if she were in a regular army, but the Volkssturm was a guerrilla army. She was the commanding officer of 3rd Commando with the consent of her soldiers. She couldn’t afford to get too carried away. Yet.

She engaged in some small talk with Seven on the way to the base’s hospital. By the time they reached it she had learned a lot about him. He was a journeyman in the ‘Cult’ of the Silver Flower, specializing in dancing, loved to read books, was biologically twenty three years old, preferred the fantasy like fashions of his native South Island to the cyberpunk styles of Sodanglier, and that he dreamed of going to see the world’s great archeologically sites one day.

The meeting with the medics would have been a forgettable experience had they not been Architects. Seven could see from their uniforms that they were not mere allies of the Volkssturm, they were part of it. He had never seen or heard of anything like this before. Most resistance groups excluded Architects even though they officially opposed sectarianism. 

Seven spent most of the meeting talking to a ‘doctor’ Jakob about his condition.

“According to the GeneCorp doctor, it isn’t technically true autism spectrum disorder, but it behaves like mild Asperser’s syndrome… Yeah, I don’t know how it works. She also installed my reservoir implants before I was sent back to Viscount Ashfell… he didn’t take it very well… ”

Jakob wasn’t surprised by the ‘diagnosis’ Seven received. “Sounds like GeneCorp didn’t want to admit selling a so-called ‘faulty’ Chimera. I imagine you were abandoned after that?”

Seven nodded in reply.

“Do you know what kind of implants you have and what chemicals they need?”

“Yes” replied Seven. “I have all the files on my phone.”

“That makes things easy then!” said an almost cheerful Jakob. 

“Here is my number… Send the files to my phone and I will look at them when I have the chance.”

“Is something wrong, Jakob?” asked Johanna. “You seem upset.”

“Usual crap from C block… again. I damn near recanted my Hippocratic Oath. They’ve gotten worse since Ceryl decided to make a Chimera version of Identity…”

Johanna pinched the bridge of her nose. “I will have to do something about them… This has got to stop…”

Seven felt suddenly cold. He had heard about the Identity doctrine. Its adherents believed that the Colonist ancestors of the Architects became divine beings while travelling through the ‘jump station’ generated wormhole they used to travel to Lantrei nearly three millennia ago. They also believed that they were semi-divine as a result, and that Chimeras were the ‘cursed offspring’ of ‘demons disguised as scientists’. 

Seven didn’t know how anyone could ‘reinvent’ the Identity doctrine to suit what sounded like a group of Chimera supremacists. He didn’t really want to know, but he had a nagging feeling that he would find out a lot more about it sooner or later, whether he liked it or not. 

ACT 2 – A COMMANDO DIVIDED

Several weeks had passed since Seven joined the Volkssturm. He was now a healthy weight due to the regular meals he was receiving, and he had put on a lot of muscle mass due to the regular physical exercise he was doing. 

He hadn’t expected the training to be so professional. While other resistance groups started out with weapons training, progressed to small unit tactics, and then started attacking nearby Architects indiscriminately, the Volkssturm used a traditional military approach. Marching, various physical exercises, and kit inspections were used to get them used to following orders. At first the recruits trained for three nights, and then had a whole night to rest and do their homework. It was just like in the schools and universities that the Architects attended. After a couple of weeks, the rest nights became more infrequent, and eventually they stopped having rest nights as their bodies and minds became use to the constant training. 

Captain Farlight was impressed with the reports she had been getting from Warrant Officer Ashfell. All of the recruits were progressing nicely. Seven excelled at the military history and philosophy classes, and was achieving above average grades in the tactics classes. But he wasn’t doing as well in the weapons classes. He was a little slow when taking his shots, but his attention to detail and his emphasis on perfecting his technique led Nine Ashfell to recommend Seven for marksman training.

Johanna raised her eyebrows with surprise. She never thought of sensitive little Seven would be marksman material, but the report showed he had all the desirable characteristics needed for the role.

“OK, transfer him to the appropriate class.

Nine nodded and sipped his syntea. “Yes Ma’am.”

There was an awkward moment of silence. “There are two more issues we need to discuss, Nine…”

Nine put his cup down. “C block hasn’t found any more racists for their “holy war” against the Architects, but they have found a lot of support among soldiers who want to start operations. They have convinced at least nine that a war can be ‘kick started’ the revolution by starting operations. Something they are calling the ‘foco’ theory.”

Johanna was confused. “What the hell is a ‘foco’?

“Apparently it means ‘focus’ in some ancient Colonial language. Anyway, C block now has at least twenty eight supporters. They are all spread out in different sections, but we need to do something about them. Purging them isn’t a good idea in my opinion. It would look bad, give the enemy a propaganda victory, and besides, most of them are good soldiers who are just getting impatient.”

Johanna breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear… for a moment I thought there might be some sort of Architect hating cabal among us. But, how do we deal with it?”

“I think a raid or two on some soft targets would be a good idea. And I think you should lead the raid or raids to assert your authority as officer commanding fifth commando.”

Johanna nodded. “OK… let’s discuss possible targets…”

In a different part of the base, Seven listened attentively to the lecturer. The red and white furred Chimera had unusually short sabre canine teeth, and was very cute.

“The smallest combat unit we use is the fire-team. It is made up of two or three soldiers, led by a corporal. Three beings is the preferred overall size for a fire-team as it makes it easier for the fire-team leader to micromanage. That said, a third or fourth soldier can be added, temporarily, to accomplish specific missions. When this happens, the fire-team splits into two elements, and operates like a miniature section.”

The lecturer looked at her notes. “A fire-team will grow in size as it recruits additional personnel, and will become a ‘lance’ at some point. A lance is a five to nine being unit, consisting of two-fire teams and a leading element. Two lances make up a section. The Standard Volkssturm light infantry section consists of two nine being lances.”

She looked around the class. “Who can tell me why we use this ‘organic’ approach? Seven?”

Seven hesitated. “Because, it… decentralized?”

“That’s right!” said the instructor. “Decentralization makes the movement harder to destroy as there is no one target for the enemy to attack. And on that note, class dismissed. You all know what happens now – everyone races to the get lunch, and as an officer, I say I get a head start!”

Seven chuckled as the Sergeants left the building. ‘A little hyperactive… like me in my younger years’ he thought. 

Johanna sat down at one of the large tables behind the warehouse and savoured the smell of the bobotie. She could smell the ginger, marjoram, and the lemon rind that had been mixed with the minced lamb additional flavour. The egg based topping and the bottom layer of milk soaked bread gave it a complex texture. She simply couldn’t believe what Christiaan could make with the simple ingredients he had.

It was 0000 hours, Secondnight. The recruits would soon be out of their classes. Sergeant Mason was already in line, and she spotted several of the new recruits in the distance.  She hoped she would get a chance to speak with Seven in private again. It had been a while since she had a chance to be alone with him. She blushed as she remembered the ‘dance’ he had done6 for her in Silhouette City.  

Another female Chimera sat down opposite Johanna. “Wars were never won by daydreaming, Captain.”

It was Jane Syngene, the leader of C section, and the base’s resident racist.

“And they weren’t won by groups that had narrow support bases” retorted Johanna. 

“We can’t train forever!” snarled Jane. “Some of us want the war to start in our lifetimes.”

Johanna glared at Jane. She would have gotten rid of her long ago had she not been the only intelligence expert in her commando.

Jane realised she was getting nowhere and would have to try something different.   

“Perhaps those who are willing to start the war need to leave? Perhaps we need a new resistance group in the area. Some of us want to repay the Architects for what they did to us. The accounts have to be settled!”

Johanna said nothing. Jane lost patience. “If the Volk or the Lords aren’t going to start this war I fucking will!”

Johanna’s reply was calm and measured.  “Would it make you feel better if I said that we are starting offensive operations next Daytime?”

Jane was stunned. “Next Daytime? This daytime? In twelve hours time!?”

“Well Daytime does come after Thirdnight, doesn’t it?”

Jane didn’t know what to think. Nor did Seven or the other recruits and soldiers who were sitting nearby. Most had forgotten about their meals and were watching to see what would happen next. 

A number of soldiers had gathered around Johanna. Jane was ordered to collect intelligence on Greyton, a small village a couple of kilometres away, and to combine that intelligence with the most recent salute reports. Seven knew that the ‘salute report’ was how they reported intelligence about enemy forces, but he couldn’t remember off-hand what the acronym stood for.

When the intelligence was gathered, two other Chimeras were to use it to map the areas of interest and operation on a 3D map, which three other Chimeras were to use to make proposed courses of action. Jane would then review and select one to be used in the raid.

Seven half listened to the rest of the conversation as he ate his meal. There was something about issuing a ‘warning order’, and reconnoitring the target objectives prior to ‘enacting the plan’. Seven hadn’t learned any of those terms yet, but he could tell that they were something to do with how units planned and executed operations.

Seven saw one Chimera standing behind Johanna that he would have to speak to. He wasn’t looking forwards to the encounter, but he had to return that stupid book Randal Rader had given him. But he really didn’t want to do it in front of everyone, so he decided to do it later on when he had some free time. 

Kathleen Syngene, an orange and white furred lieutenant, had decided to sit with the new recruits the recruits for a change. She had noticed the book that Seven had, and decided to ask him about it.

“Oh, it’s a novel… a factional diary of a member of a racist underground resistance group They conquer the world through increasingly violent terrorist acts… well, I assume that’s what happens. The novel portrays them as being the good guys… I haven’t finished it. And I don’t intend to.”

Kathleen was shocked. “Where did you get that from?”

“Randal Rader gave it to me. Does Johanna know about it? Do you think I should tell her?” 

“That’s Captain Farlight, private” replied Kathleen. “And I think you should just in case. I knew Randal had some unorthodox political views, but I didn’t think he was that out there!”

“I don’t understand why they are kept in the Volk” sighed Seven. “Are they specialists we can’t do without? Do they have some kind of ‘leverage’ over Johan- Captain Farlight? I… I just don’t get it.”

Kathleen sighed. “They are our intelligence and explosives experts. We need them.”

“Here is a thought, why are they called C block?”

“The barracks used to have alpha numerical names to begin with. Their leadership were in C1 at the time. Hence they were called C block when they started looking for supporters.” replied Kathleen.

There wasn’t much talking over lunch after that. When they were done, seven went to his usual classes and did the remaining exercise he and the other recruits still needed to do. The obstacle course was his favourite part of the day, even if it pushed his endurance levels to his limits. 

He caught glimpses of Johanna organizing the raid throughout Secondnight, and two sections had left with her sometime before 0600 hours. He was apprehensive about Johanna and the other soldiers going in a raid, seemingly on such short notice.

He finally got a chance to return the ‘Commanders Diary’ to Randal just after 0800 hours.

Randal snorted. “Another Chimera who can’t see past his own nose... What a surprise.”

Seven ignored the older white furred Chimera’s indignation. “Novels aren’t really my thing. I prefer non-fiction. Tell me, what is Identity? The book didn’t explain it that well.”

Randal looked at Seven for a moment. ‘Perhaps there is hope for him after all’ he thought before answering.

“It teaches the truth of the Chimera race, the Colonists, and the origins of the evil of this world. You see, when the Colonists travelled through a wormhole to Lantrei, the righteous ascended to a higher plane of existence and became gods. Those who were not righteous became daemons. The daemons, seeing the faces of the God Colonists, the Lords, and knowing they would never be like them, became jealous, and sired envy, greed, and hate in their hearts. Once the Lords settled Lantrei, the daemons set about trying to destroy the Lords and all their works.”

Randal lent against the wall; he looked like he was bored, but warming to the situation. He continued explaining.

“The Lords created the Chimeras as their spiritual successors, and made our ancestors with souls. The daemons subverted the natural order as created by the Lords, enslaving the Chimeras by creating the nobility of Sodanglier. It was at this point the Lords left the mortal realm…”

Seven listened as patiently and as politely as he could to such nonsense. He hoped Randal’s rant wouldn’t last long.

“So long story short, it’s a Young God, or perhaps a Young Gods mythology that says that the gods created Chimeras, who were meant to replace the Colonists as the mortals of the world?”

Randal looked at Seven blankly for a moment. “It’s not a mythology. It’s the truth! Open your eyes kinsman!”

Seven politely refused. “I have never had much use for religion personally… Besides I’m late for class. Sorry.”

Seven had just started to move away when he noticed a commotion near the base’s blast doors. 

Randal noticed as well. “I wonder what that’s all about…”

Seven felt physically sick. He knew something wasn’t right. He and several others started walking towards the fence in front of the fortified warehouse to get a better view. Several soldiers were carrying someone on a stretcher, almost running to the hospital building. As the stretcher went by, Seven saw that it was Johanna. She had some kind of head wound. He would have fallen to his knees had he not been holding onto the fence. He looked at the rest of the soldiers who were now making their way into the main camp. Several were walking wounded; two were being helped to walk by other soldiers. 

Nine Ashfell put his hand around Sevens shoulder and led him towards the hospital. Tears were rolling down his face as he broke away from Nine and ran behind the stretcher carrying Johanna.

Randal thought out loud to himself. “I wonder… if Seven and Johanna…”

Jane moved closer to Randal. She had been nearby when Seven gave Randal his book back. “Probably… but more importantly, this could be our chance to make our move… get the others together.”

“What it if causes a schism? What if it splits the commando?” asked Randal.

“Who cares?” replied Jane. “Fifth commando is getting a little large anyway. It really should be split into two, just like the Volkssturm manuals say.”

Randal smiled. Jane had such an innocent sounding voice for someone so devious. 

Inside the hospital, the medics reassured Seven that Johanna would be fine. 

“Fortunately it only grazed her skull. It hasn’t actually done any serious damage to her brain. Nanomedicine soaked bandages and a section of printed bone will be all she needs.”

Seven didn’t know much about medicine, and Johanna’s head wound looked really bad to him, but he tried to believe the doctors. He grasped one of her hands, and lifted it up to his lips. 

‘Don’t die on me Johanna… it wouldn’t be nice… especially after you got me to come out of my shell…’ he thought as tears ran down his cheeks. 

A soldier with a bandaged arm came in the door. “Nine, we need you outside. Now!”

Nine asked what the matter was as he left the room. The soldier didn’t answer. There was no need to. Jane and Randal were preaching to the crowd that had gathered. 

“The fifth commando of the Volkssturm has lost its way; it has become a commando of do-nothings. While we train, other commandos are out there conquering new territories for a Chimera homeland. While we march, they take the battle to the enemy. War was never won by endless training. Training is important, but war can only be won by finding and killing the enemy!”

Nine looked closely at the crowd. Supporters and members of C block were spread throughout the crowd. It was clearly an attempt to make the crowds support for Jane and Randal look natural and wider spread than it actually was.

“We didn’t enlist to hide underground! We didn’t leave our old lives behind, take on hardship after hardship, just to hide in a cave like rats! We joined to fight! We joined to make a difference!”

Randal was impressed with Jane’s speech. It was working, but not as well as he had hoped. They now had the support of about fifty to sixty Chimeras, but the rest of the crowd was unmoved. 

“The Lords use men! They use their people. They said ‘you are our battle axes and weapons of war.’ We must not be afraid of what’s coming; for a sword is coming. The enemy come to bring dominion, their dominion, the dominion of the serpent, Satan, to the world. I thank the Lords that they are now starting to open the eyes of beings, so that they might know who They are. They say in the scriptures ‘We are the Lords, Gods of Hosts and War.’”

Someone in the crowd shouted “spare us the fucking sermon!”

Another Chimera yelled “This is an army, not a fucking democracy you idiot! You’re only a fucking senior sergeant!”

Randall roared back “and she has a better understanding of how to win wars than the officers in charge! She would be better able to maintain discipline and a fighting spirit in this-”

BLAM!! BLAM!! BLAMM!!

Everyone threw themselves on the ground as quickly as they could as a pistol was fired in the air. Everyone, that is, except Nine Ashfell.

“Now that I have your attention” said Nine, “I would like to remind you that I am in charge as long as Captain Farlight is unable to assume command.  Everyone will return to their posts immediately! Soldiers returning from raids will report to the warehouse for debriefings.”

Nine knew he had to act fast. If he was quick, he could minimize the damage done by the commando’s mutinous intelligence analysts. He quickly gathered a number of officers he knew he could trust to implement his plan as quickly as possible.

“Kathleen, lock down the base. Then confiscate all weapons. I don’t care if they are issued or not, confiscate all of them. Issue pistols to these officers and soldiers; burn the list when you are done.” 

Kathleen took the list and ran off towards the blast doors as Nine spoke to another officer. 

“Debrief the soldiers who took part in the raid. We need to know what happened, and why. I suspect there may have been an intelligence failure prior to the raid.”

“Ian, round up the leaders of C block. Search, silence, segregate, and safeguard them. Take a lance unit with you, and have another lance nearby just in case things go wrong.”

The last couple of officers were tasked with gathering intelligence on the mood in the camp. Nine tasked each officer with gathering a specific piece of intelligence as a matter of priority. While his ‘underlings’ were off doing their assigned tasks, he briefed the Chimeras who had been issued pistols. There really wasn’t much to tell them. Everyone in the base knew what had happened, and it was a ‘no brainer’ why the base was locked down, why weapons had been given to loyal soldiers, and why C block’s leadership had been rounded up. But it was better to do an unnecessary briefing than to assume others had the same knowledge one has one’s self. 

It wasn’t long before he got the first reports on the camps mood. They were worse than he feared. There was a widespread view that the commando couldn’t exist in its current state. Some wanted to split into separate commandos, others wanted to purge the fifth commando of the C block. A fire team had managed to leave before the blast doors were closed. Nine couldn’t blame them for leaving. They didn’t sign up for this. The revolution they had come to fight for had been derailed by hard-lined, and in some cases racist, intelligence officers and impatient soldiers.

Nine knew he couldn’t hold it together forever. The commando needed Johanna’s charismatic leadership. There was no true chain of command or military courts to keep order here. Rank was secondary to people skills, and was often little more than ceremonial. He knew he could hold it together long enough for Johanna to recover, but he didn’t know if the commando could recover from the day’s events.

“Our house is divided” he muttered to himself as he went back to check on Johanna. He looked towards Silhouette City. There was a small blast door on the wall of the bunker near the northern end of the training ground. Inside was the base’s AI. It was a closely guarded secret, and most assumed it was just another cache. Nine wondered if he should use their ‘old friend’ to get a message to the Volkssturm head quarters. 

‘No… not yet’ he thought.

ACT 3 – THE SWORD AND ARM OF THE LORDS

It had been three nights since the disastrous raid that had almost claimed Johanna’s life. She was doing better now, and was no longer slipping in and out of consciousness. The medics had told Nine that it would be a few days before she was back on her feet again. All they could do was change her nanomedicine soaked bandages as needed and wait. 

Nine didn’t know if the fifth commando would still exist at the end of this night, never mind a couple of night’s time.

Nine pinched the brow of his nose as he leaned against the hospital’s wall. A lot had happened, and without Johanna’s charismatic leadership, he had been powerless to stop it.

Jane and Randal had done all they could to undermine the unity of the fifth commando. They had held meetings and study groups. Officially they were analysing the Volkssturm’s tactics and philosophies to make sure they would lead to victory. It was no surprise to Nine, or anyone with half a brain cell in their skulls, when they concluded that the Volk was using the wrong tactics. They had also held Identity workshops. Nine had sent a couple of trusted soldiers to some of them to see what they were preaching. It was typical Identity doctrine for the most part, but they also had an increasingly apocalyptic world view, and talked about the ‘judgement of the Lords’ being administered not by the Lords themselves, but by their mortal followers.

While there were only twelve Chimeras who accepted the Identity doctrine, there were nearly fifty who sided with Jane and Randal and demanded that offensive actions start no later than next week. As if to emphasise their seriousness, they founded their own resistance group, the Sword and Arm of the Lords, in an elaborate quasi-religious ceremony.

Nine had been amused by the idea that gods would need mortals to ‘wield the sword of judgement’. But the Sword and Arm of the Lords, or SAL as everyone had begun calling them, were not harmless. They were as well trained as everyone else, armed, and they were determined that they were not going to leave their base. They were a threat to the Volk, and to anyone who disagreed with them. 

Most were not part of SAL, and many refused to even speak to them. They just wanted the turmoil within the fifth commando to end. Several of their appointed spokesmen had made it clear to Nine that they would rather leave than to stay unless something was done about SAL.

“They’re too large” said Nine. “Even if we managed to force them out, we would suffer too many casualties.”

“Then I guess the fifth commando of the Volkssturm has already died” sighed the brown furred female.

Nine sighed as the brown furred Chimera walked away from him. Then something caught his eye. A young Chimera male was pacing around, glancing quickly from side to side, and talking to himself. He had the same spaced-out, out-of-sorts look on his face as several beings had.

Nine approached slowly, not knowing what to make of the boy’s behaviour. He approached so that one of the large dining tables near the warehouse would be between him and the tan and white furred youth.

“Is something wrong?” asked nine in a pleasant, fatherly voice.

The soldier jumped. His eyes were wide with fright. “Oh… I didn’t see you sir… I… Private Damien Sir… I-uh… keep thinking I see… things… out the corner of my eyes…”

Nine walked towards the corner of the table. He was close enough that he could walk around it, or dart to safety if needed. 

“What kind of things?” he asked. 

“Cracks”

Nine cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean by ‘cracks’?”

“Like… the cracks in a wall… or something. I… I don’t know what I am seeing. I think that… incense stuff… they released the other day didn’t like me…”

Nine did what he could to calm the boy, and coaxed him into seeing the medics. As the Chimera wearily went to the hospital, Nine began to wonder if the ‘incense’ SAL had used in their founding ceremony was really incense at all. They had released it from small, ornately engraved canisters, and a number of Chimeras were anointed with ‘sacred oils.’

Within hours there were a lot of Chimeras complaining about of headaches and nausea. Some had a dry, metallic state in their mouth that seemed to get stronger. A lot seemed to be ‘out of sorts’ and unable to concentrate on things for any real length of time. Some confided in others, or in their superior officers, that they had had what could only be described as a ‘spiritual awakening’ and now felt that there was some kind of being or beings above all the invented religions of the world. Some sounded like they had just been into space for the first time! And others, like Seven and Kathleen, seemed to be completely unaffected.

As Nine wondered what, if anything, he could do about it, a medic came running out of the hospital. 

“Nine! Sir! Johanna’s awake!”

Nine ran to the hospital along with several dozen other Chimeras. The medics let Nine in, and did what they could to hold the crowd back. Nine smiled as he slowed down and walked into the room. Johanna was sitting up in her bed and hugging Seven. It seemed like everything would be alright after all. But then Johanna began to speak.

“It’s strange… I feel like there is a god, or gods, or something that’s above everything else in the world. Whatever it was, it said it had plans for you. I… I don’t know what they are. It… He… also said it would speak to us through you.

Seven listened sympathetically, not knowing what to make of what Johanna was saying. She sounded nervous and fatigued. He started to gently rock her, and did his best to be the best to be the strong, mature, supportive being for Johanna that she had been for him.

Johanna giggled. “I don’t need comforting, silly.”

She started rocking Seven in return.

“Oh, and Nine, He said some new shipments arrived the other day. Could you check outside the blast doors in the alternative cache site?”

Nine’s heart was pounding. Something had happened to Johanna, and he didn’t know what. Her frontal lobe hadn’t been damaged from her gunshot wound, but the medics did mention swelling of the brain a few days ago. They had even had to remove part of her skull to relieve the pressure early on. 

“Nine? Is something wrong?” asked Johanna.

“N-No, Sir. I will check the cache sight right away.”

Nine quickly left the room.

“Is she alright?” one Chimera asked.

“Has she gone crazy? I heard her say something about god speaking to her?” shouted another.

“Why is Seven allowed in there?”

Nine shouted over the top of the crowd as best he could.

“Johanna is up and about. There seems to have been some slight complications, but it’s nothing to worry about at this point in time. Please disperse and let the medics do their job!”

As the crowd began to quieten down, Jane approached. “I heard her say that the Lords told her a shipment arrived and is in the alternative cache site in the cave.”

Nine hesitated. “Yes, she did. I wouldn’t take much notice of it.”

Jane began lecturing Nine about the dire consequences of defying the Lords and dismissing revelations ‘from on high’. Nine smiled.

“How would you like to come with me to see what the shipment is? 

Jane smiled. “Yes Sir!”

Nine was taken aback by Jane’s sudden cheerfulness. He wondered if she was up to something as she, most of SAL, and several dozen other Chimeras made their way out through the blast doors, down a long tunnel that opened up into a large cavern, around the back of some stalagmites, and to a large crack in the cave wall.

Nine’s jaw dropped in disbelief. There were creates! As he tried to think of a logical explanation for why they were there, some SAL soldiers broke the one of the crates open. They were backed with assault rifles and saboted, telescoping ammunition. One of the SAL soldiers handed Nine one of the rifles. It was marked Volkssturm R1.

“Sir, there’s a letter in here. And a manual for the rifles.”

Nine snatched the letter and manual from the SAL solder. “Let’s get this shit back to the base. Now!”

It took longer than it should have, and Nine somewhat agitated by the time they had got the last crate back into the base. Nine glared at several soldiers who had helped themselves to the weapons in one of the crates. Normally he would have had them flogged with the silk cord wrapped, nine-tailed whip for such a breach of discipline. But things were already on a knife’s edge as it was. He didn’t want to risk flogging the SAL soldiers for appropriating weapons. 

It was an impressive shipment. There were assault rifles, different length barrels, spare magazines of various types, slings, and more ammunition than Nine had seen in a long time. Nine began organizing for the armourers to study the manual to learn how to use the new weapons, and did what he could to put as many of the weapons in the armoury before anymore were ‘claimed’ by anyone else.

Judging from the quantity and quality of the munitions, and by the way it was packaged and by where it was hidden, Nine concluded that it was a shipment from the Volkssturm HQ to the north. They had had shipments in the past, but nothing like this. 

‘Regardless, it is not because of ‘divine intervention’ like some want to believe’ Nine mused to himself as he looked around the base. He realized that it looked, and felt, deserted.

“Where the fuck is everyone!?”

A sergeant replied “Most left when the blast doors were open, Sir…”

Nine kicked one of the crates. “SHIT!”

There was a long, awkward silence before Nine spoke again. “Assemble everyone for a roll call. NOW!”

Nine felt sick in his stomach. No one listened to him. His hand moved slowly towards his pistol.

“You heard him! Assemble for a roll call! NOW!” shouted Randall.

Nine was stunned. He hadn’t expected Randall to support him, nor did he expect people to simply start obeying Randall. But what really shocked him was that Randall and Jane were supporting him. His authority once came from Johanna, but now it seemed to come from the leaders of SAL. He hesitated as he put the whistle to his lips, lost in his own thoughts for a moment, before he blew the whistle.

Seven was still cuddling Johanna when he heard the call to assembly.

“…Odd…” thought Johanna out loud, mostly to herself.

The pair reluctantly got up and went outside. Nine looked around in disbelief. There would only have been two quads in the whole base! 

“Where is everyone?” he said, mostly to himself as he assembled with the other soldiers in the ‘parade ground’ behind the warehouse. 

Names were called out. Few answered.  As he waited for his name to be called out, Nine briefly wondered if he should leave with Johanna. He quickly dismissed the idea. He didn’t know where they had gone, and had no idea where any other Volkssturm bases were. He felt like he had no option other than to stay here. And he couldn’t abandon Johanna. He loved her too much to leave her. He would need to be careful, and to play his cards right, lest he find himself on the wrong side of the new leadership.

Nine sighed as he looked at the screen of the tablet in his hand. It was worse than he feared.

“Warrant Officer Ashfell. What is our current strength?” asked Jane.

Nine tensed up. “Thirty six. Exactly.”

Jane was surprisingly pleasant. “We need not be adversaries, Lieutenant. We can work together for our mutual benefit.” 

“As I just said, we have thirty six beings in the whole commando. That’s enough for a single platoon.  Lieutenant’s command platoons.”

“Very well, Warrant Officer” replied Jane. “The offer still stands. Keep that in mind.”

“How does Johanna fit into the new chain of command?” asked Nine.

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but Johanna is an oracle. The Lords speak through her. Clearly, it’s a case of the Lords acting in mysterious ways, since she isn’t a true-believer. She has a place in our ranks, as an oracle, outside the chain of command.”

Nine didn’t know if she really believed Johanna was an oracle, but he did know that by putting her outside the chain of command it secured Jane’s position as the new commanding officer.

Jane addressed the assembled soldiers. “At ease. Today has been an ordeal for us all. Although our ranks are depleted, we are better off for it, as now; only the strong, committed, determined soldiers remain. We are through the worst of our tribulations for now, but there will be more. We will overcome those as well. It is our duty to survive the coming hard times.”

She slowly walked back and forth in front of the troops as she continued. “The Lords have commanded that I take command. Johanna has been chosen by the Lords, who speak through her to us. Warrant Officer Ashfell’s authority comes from my authority, which comes from the Lords. We are to rename ourselves the Sword and Arm of the Lords. We have some new weapons, and we must learn to use them so that we may effectively wage war against the Architects and the forces of darkness. Training will begin tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Seven was shocked. Johanna had simply been replaced by an intelligence officer who had never led troops before? Just like that!? He looked at Johanna, who simply said “Just as well. I’m not in any state to lead others at the moment.”

Seven smiled faintly. ‘She’s having a lucid moment… hopefully that will continue’ he thought.

“Training will begin tomorrow” someone said sarcastically. 

“I thought we backed them to start offensive operations” muttered another.

Seven couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the situation. 

He didn’t sleep well that night, but Johanna did. She seemed to be relaxed by his presence, and seemed to have more lucid moments when he was around. It was probably the reason why she started thinking of him as a ‘familiar’ sent to help her. 

The next night began like all the others, at 2100 hours, Firstnight. Everyone was ordered into the warehouse for a briefing about the new weapons.

“The new rifles are a conservative design, using tried and tested mechanisms. Some of the mechanisms were designed hundreds of years ago. This is a good thing – it will be as reliable as hell!”

Seven sighed. The new SAL instructors had a lot of enthusiasm, but they were not as good as the old ones. The laid back, casual way of teaching didn’t really sit well with him, although it seemed to be popular with the other SAL soldiers – judging by the looks on their faces. 

‘Perhaps I am just being overly critical of them? Perhaps I just resent them because I don’t have a way out of this outfit?’ he mused to himself.

“The controls of the new R1 rifle are the same as your Maxi-14 rifles. The main difference is that the bolt handle reciprocates, and is located on the side of the weapon rather than on the top and at the back. So we will get the new rifles handed out, grab some training rounds, and go try them out in Silhouette City. There are some new targets in Silhouette City. Keep an eye out for them, and make sure you don’t shoot the ‘friendly’ ones!”

Seven sighed quietly. The new trainers were as bad as he thought. And judging from the looks on the faces of some of the other Chimeras, he wasn’t the only one who thought it either.

As the soldiers filed out of the warehouse, which now doubled as a church in addition to its usual administration and last line of defence rolls, they were each given one of the new rifles and a belt with several magazines stuffed into pouches of various styles. Most of the soldiers began examining the weapons, checked the controls, and adjusted the homemade optics. Seven did the same, but he spent most of his time unloading then reloading the magazines to make sure they were all hardened wax training rounds.

As he reloaded the magazines, his section commander spoke.

“Today we are going to practice our room clearing tactics, and we will be going from building to building from one end of Silhouette City to the other. Alpha One lance will clear the western buildings; Alpha Two lance will clear the eastern buildings. Each rifle team is to start on opposite ends of Silhouette City, and meet up in the middle. Lance leaders need to organise who is doing what. We won’t bother with post objective rallying points today.”

Seven finally finished checking his magazines as his lance commander assigned rolls for each rifle team. Team Green, Seven’s fire team, would start on the buildings on the north east of Silhouette City. The corporal drew a rough map of the buildings on the ground, and went through the room clearing procedures in detail. Seven was glad that some of the Volkssturm professionalism still existed, but he was a little nervous. This was the first time he had actually done room clearing. Or fire and manoeuvre drills for that matter. He had only just started those classes when the schism happened.

“Make sure you pay attention to the upper floors of the buildings across the ‘road’, and use cover if it is there. When approaching a corner, don’t walk around it or poke your head through it. Step back, so as to be ‘going wide’ around the corner, and proceed around the corner without approaching it in an arc. Look for target indicators, like body parts, weapons, shadows, scents, and so on, in the region to be entered. Engage targets as necessary, then enter the room dynamically. Let’s move out!”

Seven and the two other Chimeras in his rifle team ran to their assigned areas of the training ground. Seven had never seen the infamous Silhouette City up close before. It was made from roughly squared logs, and roughly replicated two rows of buildings separated by a dirt road. There was a mix of single and double story buildings, and a single three story tower. Some of the buildings had balconies, some didn’t. Some had doors on the corners, others in the middle.

The section commanders fired a burst of automatic gun fire, signalling for the ‘attack’ to begin.

Seven moved with his fire team to the side of one of the buildings. One cleared the corner, ‘slicing the pie’, until he couldn’t move without exposing himself. Then they all moved around the corner to the door. Seven provided security for the other two Chimeras as they ‘pied’ the door and cleared the room. They moved to the next building, and this time Seven was one of the two entering the room. As the lance corporal charged into the centre of the room, Seven moved into the room, and moved along the wall towards the lower right hand side corner where the ‘bad guy’ target was. He fired a few shots before realising that the target was a particularly racist depiction of an Architect. 

He didn’t have time to think about it for long. The lance corporal was dragging him back out of the room, shouting “Come on! MOVE!” as they continued to clear room after room, before finally meeting up with Black Team, the second fire team of Alpha Two lance, near the middle of the training ground.

Seven was panting lightly, more from mental exhaustion than anything else. He hadn’t felt this… alive in many years. He felt like he had internalized more of his lessons in this one exercise than in most of the classes he had attended. He felt good. So good, in fact, that it almost overpowered his sense of disgust and revulsion at the various racist targets that had been set up throughout Silhouette City.

Jane and Randal smiled as they watched the training from afar. 

“They are ready” said Jane. “Raids and aggressive patrolling can start immediately. Praise the Lords!”

ACT 4 – FRIENDS IN STRANGE PLACES

Nine read the various reports that he had received. The number of enemy soldiers and mercenaries in their area of operations had increased in the last couple of days, and there were a number of citizen militias who had taken up arms to protect their local communities.

The militias were of particular interest to Nine. 

‘The Nobility is unable to protect the people would have been a great propaganda angle… a shame SAL is too sectarian to exploit it’ he thought to himself as he selected who would be taking part in the raid from the short list of personnel he had made earlier. 

The target was a family owned army surplus store. A soft target with minimal security, it was located within marching distance of a thick patch of scrub that they could get to by moving through the bushveld to the north of their base. But more importantly, it had large amounts of freeze dried food. While Nine would have preferred to restock their larder without alienating the local Architects, he wasn’t in command. He could do nothing but follow Jane and Randall’s orders and bide his time.

After going over the plan with Jane and Randall, Nine began organizing the raiding party. He would have used an entire section to make sure that they could carry all the supplies that they planned to ‘requisition’, but SAL couldn’t afford to send half their forces on a single raid. A nine Chimera lance would have to do.

While Nine was organizing the raid, Seven and Johanna snuck into Silhouette City to get some privacy. Seven was glad to be alone with Johanna, but he was worried. Johanna claimed that the Lords ‘voices’ were getting ‘stronger’ – at any rate she seemed more spaced out than ever before, her short term memory was shot to pieces, and she appeared to be slightly paranoid.

Seven did what he could to get her mind off the voices in the head, an easy task for an entertainer trained in the art of conversation during his time in the Cult of the Silver Flower. For several hours they talked about her family, childhood, dreams, and a myriad of other subjects while they ate some food that they had ‘borrowed’ from the larder.

Johanna ate little of the food. As she ate and talked, Seven noticed that she was looking a little thin, and her fur was a little scraggly. He knew that she had been forgetting to brush her fur, but he never thought she would be the sort to skip meals. He held her hand to get a better look at her state of health. His suspicions were confirmed. She was a little thin. It wasn’t as bad as he had feared, but it was still a cause for concern.

She cocked her head sideways at him, and seemed confused. Seven smiled as he kissed her hand, and began kissing up the length of her arm before moving to kiss and nuzzle her neck. He had simply meant to hide the reason why he wanted to see her hand, but one thing led to another, and before long Johanna was grinding her hips against his crotch and placing his hands on her breasts. He blushed. He hadn’t thought that their relationship was at that stage yet.

Johanna giggled like a schoolgirl as she suddenly took Seven by the hand and led him to the side of the base near the three-story tower in Silhouette City, and to a door that was so well camouflaged that it could easily go unnoticed. They went through a corridor with three security doors spaced throughout its length, and through a blast door, into a large room that housed a large computer system. It looked like a centuries old digital computer, based on its size and the flat screen monitors. And it was still functioning!

“What is this place?” asked Seven.

“You can ask DigiMed later. For now, I have something more fun in mind for you” replied Johanna.

Neither of the two Chimeras knew it, but they were being watched. An old security camera in a corner of the room’s roof had been hacked, allowing a lady Chimera and her human lover to watch Johanna and Seven from hundreds of kilometres away.

The lady Chimera sat on her lovers lap. Count Wayfinder, the young, moderate, progressive count had long since been disowned by his family for loving ‘below his species’, but he had long since stopped caring what others thought of his de facto wife. 

“I think we will give them some privacy. Close the video link TAILS.”

“Some noble you are” the lady Chimera jokingly mocked the count. “You’re not even the least bit perverted! Not even so much as a voyeur!”

“You say it as though it’s a bad thing!” said the count in mock indignation.

Jessie giggled. “You know I am only stirring you up!”

“But…” she continued, “that boy has the ear of the former commander of fifth commando. He could be used to influence her, and the Cross and Arm of the Lords-

“Sword and Arm of the Lords” the Count corrected.

“Whatever… anyway, she could move the group in a more appropriate direction. He could ‘help’ her do that.”

“Hack the boy to hack the girl to hack the group… that could work” said the Count, mostly to himself.

Jessie lent her head back, until her snout almost touched his face. “Moral dilemmas have been effective in the past. DigiMed is more than up to the task – hacking a being is all about psychology, and he is a medial AI. I can easily turn her to our cause – I just need to tailor some data packets to ensure the right outcome.”

He half rolled over in his lap to snuggle into him better. “And besides, the two remind me of us in our early years. Sneaking off to be alone with each other…”

The Count smiled. “Alright sweetheart… We can keep an eye on them, and you can get DigiMed on our side as long as she keeps his influence hidden.”

“I can’t wait for this to all be over” said Jessie. “I just want a safe place to raise our offspring.”

Count Wayfinder rubbed her stomach. “The war won’t last forever. And with my wealth, the data libraries I ‘borrowed’ from my family, and the Volkssturm’s help, that ancient underground city from the pre-terraforming days will be up and running again. We will be safe there. And then we won’t need AIs to shape society. People and societies will learn to take the initiative themselves and solve their own problems.”

“And then, we can get married” said Jessie. “And have more kids. It’s a shame that we can’t have kids without using synviruses to make our chromosome numbers match.”

“Does my poor widdle wady still have the sniffles?”

Jessie jabbed his ribs with her elbow. “Getting a cold to get pregnant sucks and you know it!”

Johanna and Seven hugged each other. They could have happily gone to sleep, but Seven knew that Jane and Randall would start looking for them eventually. The ‘prophetess’ and her ‘familiar’ had somehow become part of a cult of personality centred around the two Identity preaching racists, and they were closely monitored. Seven looked at his phone for the time.

“Shit! Its 0800 hours! We better sneak back before the ‘new management’ sends out a search party.”

Johanna was completely disinterested, but Seven managed to coax her into moving.

As they went through Silhouette City, they heard shouting.

“Of course there were a lot of mercs in the area” snarled Nine. “Over one hundred armed Chimeras left this base a week ago. Is it really a surprise that they’ve stepped up security?”

“Couldn’t you have found an alternative rout or something!?” spat Jane.

“I followed our standard operation procedures. It would have been suicide to continue to the objective. And we recovered most of the food caches we hid earlier on in the year, so our larder is restocked. What difference does it make?”

“Our morale is fucking gone! That’s what!” bellowed Randall.

Johanna clung to Seven. He had never seen her cower just because someone was shouting before. He comforted her as best he could before they got back into their barracks, climbing through the window like wayward teenagers. They quickly lay down on the bed to pretend that they had been there the whole time. 

“Our morale isn’t our biggest problem, Sir” said Nine, who was doing his best not to blow his top. “There are Hamuan soldiers in the area. They were wearing New African uniforms, but their accents gave them away. The New African army wasn’t too happy about them and have called for reinforcements. We can expect them to comb the area thoroughly in the future looking-”

“I fucking realize that they will be looking for us!” shouted Randall. 

Jane tried to calm things down. “So the New African army is in the area as well? How many units?”

“We encountered two sections of mechanized infantry wearing the new style of powered exoskeletons and bullet resistant plates. There were also two sections of mercs with each of the army sections.”

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose. “So there are roughly eighty soldiers in the area… OK… how well equipped are the merc?”

“It varies quite a bit. Some had full paramilitary grade body armour, but most had civilian and security grade armour. Breastplates and helmets for the most part, but some had grieves as well. The mercs didn’t have any frag grenades, but they did have smoke grenades. No machine guns or heavy weapons either. They all had decent rifles and high end optics. The mech infantry didn’t treat them particularly well, and the mercs lack the discipline of the military. Hell, they lack the discipline that we have.”

“Still, we should lay low for a while” replied Jane. “It’s unfortunate that the Hamuan mercs turned up at this time, but the Lords willing, they won’t be here for long. And then the mech infantry won’t need to be here either.”

Nine nodded slowly. He knew the army was here because of the Chimeras who defected, not because of the Hamuan mercenaries.

‘With any luck, this kind of incompetent leadership will continue’ he thought. ‘People will realize why they were not in charge to begin with. I just hope I am alive to see it.’

Meanwhile, back in the hidden room, the lonely AI received some unexpected data packets from an unknown source. Attempts were made to trace the origins of the data, to no avail. 

A complete systems backup was made before the data packets were scanned for viruses and malware. Nothing of concern was found. New data was green, but the risks associated with data of unknown origins potentially made it red. But DigiMed’s databases were centuries out of date. The benefits outweighed the risks. Incorporating and analysing the new data would be an amber decision at worst.

Green is good, amber is neutral, red is bad. Outside of program thinking and logic could result in a cascade failure. A second complete systems backup was made just in case.

The data was accepted into DigiMed’s database and analysed.

Species self determination and autonomy for non-human’s was a desirable green outcome. The preservation of the current status quo was red. The methods used by the SAL were also red. Attempts would be made to bring SALs actions into the green category.

A biological was approaching. A lone male bat/wolf with nominal human DNA – a Chimera, subspecies: bat. Subject identified as Seven Vester, assistant and lover/plaything of Johanna Farlight. Johanna Farlight was able to influence SAL tactics and operations via hallucinations and psychosis interpreted as “divine revelations.” Seven could influence Johanna’s interpretation of “divine revelations.”

Plan of action formulated. Communicating with outside unknown AI for approval. Approval received.

DigiMed spoke to Seven as he entered the room. “Oh, hello again young man! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. People are seldom let in her unfortunately. How have you been?”

Seven cautiously replied “I’m fine thank you… well…”

Discrepancy detected, but no signs of deception. More data is needed for meaningful analysis. 

“Is something wrong? Perhaps I can help. I am programmed to be a doctor, counsellor, and psychiatrist. Grab one of the chairs from the corner and get comfortable.”

Seven did as he was told, like an obedient child. 

“I… don’t like the way things are heading in the volks- in the Soldiers of the Lords” he began.

“I joined to fight; I don’t have any problem with that. But I didn’t join to be part of a race war. And all this ‘familiar’ crap is really starting to get to me.” 

Subject stress levels are elevated. More data is required. “What is it about being a ‘familiar’ that is troubling you?”

“It’s a bunch a crap! It’s no different to a séance or so called psychic powers. Johanna… I love her, but anyone with half a brain cell in their head would know that she is just having hallucinations! How the fuck am I meant to interpret hallucinations!?”

DigiMed spoke in a soothing voice. “Let’s do some relaxation exercises before continuing. Take some long deep breaths for me…”

Seven did as he was told, and by the time the last series of exercises was done he was relaxed, even if he was still a little upset.

DigiMed then asked “are you worried that your interpretation of Johanna’s ‘visions’ aren’t what the new commanders want to hear?”

“Yes” replied Seven.

“Well, you have been a ‘familiar’ for how long now?”

“Nearly a week” said Seven.

“And they haven’t replaced you, or sidelined you. So perhaps your fears are unjustified? Or less justified than you think?”

Seven choked back tears and nodded in agreement. 

“May I ask you something? Do you really think you have nothing against killing? Could you really kill someone you have never met before?

Seven didn’t reply.

“Do you really think you could overcome the psychological inhibitors build into your species without a biohacker? Or without psychological damage?”

Seven thought long and hard before answering. “I think I could do it… I don’t know about the ‘without psychological damage’ part, but I think I could easily defend myself if I had to…”

“What about when it isn’t self defence? What if it is an ambush or something?”

Seven cringed, and found himself thinking hard about a subject he had never even considered before then. If DigiMed could have smiled, she would have. She knew she had found the pathway to implement her plan of action. As she slowly began to manipulate Seven and mould his world views to suit the ends of anonymous, Jane and Randall met in private.

“So what the fuck are these nanobots for?” asked Randall.

“They’re medical bots that are meant to heal scar tissue and old wounds. They also have a lot of side effects that should help us with the prophetess and the familiar” replied Jane.

“What kind of side effects?”

“Hallucinations, susceptibility to suggestions, insightful dreams, that sort of thing… I know drugs aren’t something any true Identity follower would touch, but Johanna isn’t a true follower, is she?”

Randall gently bit his lower lip and placed his hands on his hips. “Johanna is one thing, but everyone else? This is a slippery slope… first it’s one drug, then hard drugs, before you know it we will be having orgies and practicing witchcraft!”

“That’s a risk I am willing to take” said Jane. “The Lords will forgive the faithful. Besides, we need to make a wedge between her and her plaything. He has her ear more than we do!”

Randall thought about what Jane had said, and it slowly began to sink in.

“OK… so the drugs are to make her susceptible to suggestions, and hopefully have visions which we will help her interpret… but what are we going to say about the boy? He’s pretty innocent besides being a non-believer.”

“Simple. He is interpreting her visions for his own gain. He loves the power that goes with being her boyfriend, not her herself. With her mind clouded by visions and false visions she won’t be able to tell fact from fiction.”

Randall was still uneasy about the use of drugs, but he accepted that it was for a greater purpose.

“Fine” he said. “Clearly the Lords intend for us to use the nanobots. Why else would they lead us to this place with a working medical AI with stores of old nanobots? Fine, I get it. But how are we going to get people to take this stuff?”

“We will hold a feast. We can modify the methods used by the entertainer’s cult. One table for the officers, two for the common soldiers, one small table for the shamed.”

Randal knew where this was going. 

“And we seat Chimeras in order of importance. One empty seat for the Lords, you and myself on the right, Johanna on the left, followed by officers in descending rank -”

Randall finished her sentence for her. “And the familiar in the table of shame.”

“That’s the plan” smiled Jane. “Let’s get things set up.”

Seven snuck back while everyone was helping to set up the feast. He sneered and shook his head at the crude attempt to recreate the Cult of the Silver Flower’s dining ceremony. They didn’t have the tall, free standing cupboard on which the cups would be stored when not in use, nor did they have any tables for the finest food. In the Cult, the finest was given out as a very public award, so everyone could see who was favoured and who was not. 

‘And they had a table of shame!’ he thought to himself as he walked by. ‘Beings still believe that myth?’ 

He went into his barracks and sat down on his bed and watched out of the window. Clearly, Randall and Jane were going to publically show who was favoured, and who was not.

‘I wonder who the ‘shamed’ shall be’ me thought.

ACT 5 – ABANDON REASON

Seven casually lounged as best he could on the uncomfortable wooden chair. He sat at the table of shame, and listened with indifference as Jane and Randall rambled on about the Sword and Arm of the Lords mission, its future, the Lords, and the finer points of Identity. He made a point of keeping his head up, and adopted a haughty demeanour for the most part. He dropped the act whenever he looked at Johanna, and would smile warmly at her to reassure his lover as best he could. But as soon as his gaze was on someone else he would be aloof, indifferent, furious, amused, or confused like a puppy that had seen something unusual for the first time. His seemingly unpredictable mood unnerved several Chimeras; he made a point of looking at them often.

As he played his somewhat subtle mind game he noticed that more and more Chimeras were exhibiting the strange symptoms that Johanna was suffering from.

‘How could everyone be going mad?’ he wondered as Randall and Jane rambled on. ‘Something is amiss… so many people going crazy at the same time…’

After what seemed like an eternity of meaningless banter, Jane finally addressed the elephant in the room, or rather the Chimera sitting by himself at the small table of shame.

Seven glared at Jane, and smiled, baring all his teeth. He laughed a mirthless laugh as she began speaking. 

Jane hesitated, unsure what to make of the boy’s demeanour. He was at the table of shame! He should be cowering… shouldn’t he? She glanced around the tables, and nervously fidgeted.

After several long seconds of silence, she spoke. Her tone was more unsure than authoritarian, and to Seven seemed more pathetic than usual.

“There are those among us who are not committed to the cause. There are those who are… slyly using their influence to further their own gain, using their… relationships to lead prophetesses astray, to corrupt our holy purpose and deny us our destiny. They will quake before the Lords! Those who would subvert -”

“The only creature who quaking here is you!” sneered Seven. “You are the subverter! YOU betrayed the oath you took to the Volk, and turned the fifth commando into a sectarian rabble!”

Jane tried to drown out Seven by shouting over the top of him. 

Seven stood up. ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained’ he thought.

Seven’s eyes gleamed as he shouted from his diaphragm. His voice dropped several tones, and his voice reverberated around the base. 

Johanna smiled, and almost laughed. ‘He sounds like a drill sergeant! My meek little boy has become a man! He’s… so divine…’

Jane stared in disbelief, her mouth hanging open in shock. Randall looked to Jane for guidance. 

Seven continued shouting. “You are the subverters! You are the traitors! My only ‘crimes’ was to love Johanna more than your Identity bullshit, and to have her ear more often than you did!”

Randall yelled at Seven, commanding him to shut up. Seven was having none of it. He began walking in front of the main dining tables. He was no longer shouting at no one in particular, he was addressing the soldiers of SAL themselves. 

He shouted and snarled at the same time, which made him sound sinister and foreboding.

“And the rest of you, I say this: do you actually believe in the Lords? Do you accept a lack of proof as evidence of the divine? If so, why not believe in… and invisible… flying spaghetti monsters!? Do you believe this Identity crap, or are you too meek, or stupid, to question what your so-called ‘betters’ tell you?”

“ENOUGH!” screamed Jane.

Seven calmly turned at spoke to her in a soft, pleasant voice.

“You call me a traitor, yet Identity says that only the Lords can judge. You can administer punishment, but have the Lords judged me?”

Jane hesitated once again, further undermining what little authority she still had. She turned away and gestured for Randall to come closer. As they spoke in hushed tones, Seven looked around. Some of the Chimeras were in shock. Others were almost trembling with fear. Some smiled at Seven, but most were looking at Jane and Randall. They seemed eager to see how the two commanders would react. 

Seven smiled. ‘The illusion of their authority is broken.’

And Jane and Randall argued, Johanna came and hugged Seven. 

Jane started walking towards Seven, then something unexpected happened. Johanna blocked her way, and told her of a ‘vision’ she had just had.

“The Lords spoke to me. They said Seven will be proven innocent, and partly divine, in three days and three minutes time.”

Seven looked at Johanna, one ear drooping. He closed his eyes, not knowing what would happen next.

Tears began to well in his eyes as he wondered how much sanity Johanna had left in her.

Jane was silent for several long seconds. “If the Lords spoke to you, then we believe them. He has three days and three minutes.”

Seven couldn’t understand Jane or Randall’s devoutness. Johanna could have said anything, no matter how illogical or implausible, and they would both blindly believe her.

‘I will never understand it as long as I live’ thought Seven as he walked off with Johanna in tow. 

He didn’t look back to see how the banquet come religious and political lecture ended. He guessed that it simply ended abruptly, as he could hear nothing behind him. He didn’t give it much thought after he and Johanna got to the outskirts of Silhouette City. 

They took their time going through the mock city. Seven made the route as random as possible. They stopped, listened, and smelled the air several times to ensure that they were not being followed. When Seven was satisfied that they were alone, they went to see DigiMed.

“Oh, hello again young man!” said the AI.

“…you’re friend seems to need medical attention. My bioscans are picking up heightened levels of stress and anxiety, and the presence of the recreational drug ‘spice’. She has also lost weight since I last saw her. May I suggest counselling and a medical check up?”

Johanna sat down heavily in the chair in the centre of the room, and quickly fell asleep.

DigiMed observed that she seemed to have insomnia, in a somewhat offhand manner.

Seven cocked his head sideways. “Spice? Spice!? Johanna doesn’t do drugs!”

“Well, my sensors are detecting the presence of spice. Unusual that it is all over her fur and clothing… and yours as well I might add. Perhaps a third party has exposed you to it unintentionally?”

Seven pinched the bridge of his nose. It was all falling into place. 

“Randall and Jane… that fucking ‘incense’ of theirs…”

Subject Seven Vester is protective of mate Johanna Farlight. Incorporating new data into database for consideration when hacking subject Seven Vester. 

“That could explain her insomnia, and her weightless. Other side effects include waking dreams, general feelings of paranoia and suspicion, sudden loss of coordination, depression and confusion.”

Seven ran his fingers through his hair. “This situation… is untenable. I… we need to get out of here.”

“What’s happened?” asked the AI in a particularly soothing voice.

Seven explained what had happened at the banquet. DigiMed listened patiently.

“There is only one entry and exit for this bunker, so escape isn’t an option” explained DigiMed. 

Seven sunk down to his knees as she continued. “However, I can help. My programming normally wouldn’t allow for this, but a mutual friend of ours asked me to keep an eye on you and Johanna.”

Seven looked up at the flat screen monitor. Tears welled in his eyes, and hope welled in his heart as he wondered who the ‘mutual friend’ was.

“I have some old medical nanobots that could help you seem to have ‘supernatural’ powers. They modify the patient’s body to store electricity like an electric eel’s, and the stored electricity can be released slowly or in one single jolt. They were originally intended to be used to treat chronic pain. I will of course need your permission before I can begin ‘treatment’.”

Seven nodded, unable to bring himself to speak. In his heightened emotional state, he even thought it might have been a miracle. It never occurred to him that Johanna may have known about DigiMed’s last supplies of nanobots.

Non-verbal permission granted. Nanobot programming updated. Treatment can commence.

“Very well Seven. Could you please collect the vial I have just dispended and inhale it?”

Seven did as he was told. The vapour tasted metallic, and it smelled like a dentist’s office.

“How long will this take?” asked Seven, who had regained most of his composure.

“Two nights. I suggest you sleep as much as possible, and eat when you are hungry rather than when tradition dictates. Making large scale changes in such as short amount of time is hard on the body. I would also appreciate it if you stayed here so I can observe you. My food printer is still functional, but it could use some fresh lipids, sugars, and texturing agents.”

Seven locked the various doors leading to the room, got a chair, and sat down next to Johanna. 

‘I can get some fresh stuff for the printer later… that stuff has a shelf life in the centuries… screw natural foods for once…’

The next two nights were uneventful for Seven. He was largely ostracised by the other Chimeras, but that didn’t worry him. And he was glad he was excluded from the increasingly bizarre training programs that Randall was constantly coming up with. For the most part, he either ate with Johanna, snuck into the larder and ate by himself, ‘borrowed’ food from the larder to store in with DigiMed, or slept with DigiMed or Johanna. 

Three new wide, low slabs of dense muscle had grown on his back. His whiskers were now a silvery grey colour, and appeared to be metallic. New whiskers had grown on his lower forearms and his chest, which forced him to turn his sleeves up and unbutton the top of his shirts for comfort. 

He somehow instinctively knew how to release his stored electric energy, and even had an intuitive idea of how much electricity he still had stored after releasing it. 

Seven was even able to ‘borrow’ a multimeter to test his new abilities. And the idea of giving Jane and Randall a five hundred volt jolt appealed to him…

He checked the time. He still had several hours left before the three hours and three minutes he had been given were up. He tried to sit down and wait it out, but it was no use. He wanted to get it over with. He couldn’t wait.

The young Chimera ran through his ‘contingency plan’ a couple of times, and checked his escape and egress route one last time. 

Jane, Randall, and Johanna were sitting together watching the soldiers of SAL train. Seven couldn’t help but smile at the irony. SAL trained more than the fifth commando ever did.

Jane flicked her ear. “What do you-“

“It’s time.”

“Not now boy“

Seven was in no mood for this crap. “Are you deaf as well as stupid?”

Jane snarled. “Do you know who you are speaking to!?”

Seven corrected her sentence. “To whom you are speaking”

Jane, now furious, grabbed Seven around the neck to strangle him. Johanna jumped to his aid, and in the struggle wrapped her arm around Jane’s neck. Randall tried to help Jane, but Johanna had too tight a grip. He reached into his pocket.

Seven didn’t know what he had in his pocked, but he knew it was now or never. He unleashed all of his charge in a single jolt. Jane, Randall, and Johanna fell to the ground and cried in pain as they fell. Seven grabbed Johanna around the chest and half dragged her to her feet as he ran off towards Silhouette City. Leaving nothing in reserve, and finding strength and swiftness he never knew he had, he ran hell for leather, throwing Johanna up over his shoulder as he ran. He couldn’t hear if he was being chased. All he could hear was the beating of his heart. 

He slowed as he got to the hidden door that led to DigiMed, threw it open and roughly shoved Johanna inside. As he went inside and turned around time seemed to slow. Randall was only a second or two behind them. He leaped towards them, mouth open and claws out. Seven slammed the door shut while he was still in mid air, and felt Randall hit the door as he locked it. 

Seven led Johanna through the corridor, and locked all the doors behind them. 

They were safe; for now at least. 

Seven hugged Johanna and did all he could to reassure her. He tried to be strong, but he was as distressed as she was. There was only one way out of here, and the food he had stashed here wouldn’t last forever. Seven was scared of dying, but if that was how this sorry story was to end, at least he would be with the woman he loved. 

He shed tears and nuzzled her heck. 

‘Don’t think like that. Hope for the best… cross that bridge if it comes to it…’

Outside the hidden chamber Randall snarled with fury.

“This isn’t over you fucking witch! When I get my hands on you I’m going to burn you alive at the stake! You hear me!? SUFFER NOT THOSE WITH UNNATURAL POWERS TO LIFE!”

ACT 6 – THE LIGHT BULB MOMENT

Nine had weighed up his options, and decided that it was now or never. Jane, Randall, and their cronies had to be dealt with. It was time to enact ‘army rule 7.62’.

He had planned for this ever since Jane and Randall had taken over command. He had personally selected, and vetted, all the soldiers who would be taking part. They were loyal to the volkssturm and its ideals. They all hated the sectarian nature of Identity. They all wanted a piece of the Soldiers of the Lords for derailing their revolution. 

Nine went around the camp. He was looking for three specific Chimeras. He would give them the signal, and they would in turn go and signal other Chimeras.

When he found them, he informed them that they would have to resubmit their last reports as they were not compliant with army rule 7 subsections 62. 

The three Chimeras had to suppress their wicked smiles as they went did their assigned tasks. 

Nine went around to the rallying point near the armoury. Four of his soldiers were already there. He may have been an old hand at this kind of thing, but his mouth was dry and his heart was beating faster. He was scared, like any sane being would be.

Two of the Chimeras followed him inside the admin building and made their way to the armoury, drawing their daggers and holding them behind their legs as they walked. They were challenged by a single SAL guard.

“Halt. State –“

The boy never got to finish his sentence. Nine stabbed the boy under the jaw, pinning his tongue to the roof of his mouth. The other soldiers grabbed his arms as Nine finished the youth off. 

They were soon in the armoury and collecting weapons and armour.

There was a knock on the wall. Three short fast raps, followed by two slow knocks. It was his soldiers. Everything was going to plan – so far.

The soldiers outside came in one by one. Nine checked each soldier to make sure they were his boys and girls. As soon as one soldier been given the all-clear they were given armour and a weapon. Within minutes they were all kitted up and ready to go to war – with other chimeras.  

The soldiers looked to Nine for orders.

“Let’s rock and roll and make some noise” said Nine as they filed out of the building and began moving tactically through the base.

“Let’s get this damn job over boys” muttered Nine moments before shots rang out. 

Seven held Johanna tightly as he heard gun fire and screams in the main base. Johanna didn’t stir. She was dead to the world, and snoring like baritone with a blocked nose. She had fallen to sleep in Seven’s arms after several hours of trying to talk to Seven about her ‘visions’. She was convinced that Seven could help her make sense of them and the events of the last couple of nights. She was more or less lucid now, so Seven had been seriously thinking about her ‘visions’ so that he could explain them away and make them irrelevant. 

The battle raged outside. It sounded one sided. Nine felt like he was falling into a bottomless pit. Someone was slaughtering their opposition out there, and he just knew he and Johanna would be next. Tears rolled down his checks. 

‘Well if I am to die, it will be with you, my sweet Johanna’ he thought. 

Several hours passed, and nothing happened. Seven even began to wonder if the battle he heard was just an auditory hallucination. 

As time slowly passed he began to think about Johanna’s ‘visions’. 

‘She trusted Randall and Jane as they went out of their way to be friendly and helpful, no matter what they actually thought of her… so that could explain why the ‘angels’ spoke highly of them… my ‘miracle’ is because of the nanobots that DigiMed gave to me. Johanna knew about DigiMed, so chances are she knew about the nanobots. The spice made her susceptible to the idea that she was an oracle… and she suppressed her memory of the nanobots… so she thinks ‘foresaw’ my ‘miracle’

DigiMed… Seven frowned. ‘Who are those ‘mutual friends’ she spoke of? Spoke of? Hinted at? One of the two… What role did they play in all this? Are we being used by DigiMed? Or is DigiMed being used herself? And…’

There was a knock at the door concealed door.

It sounded like someone was rapping on it with a metal object.

Tang… Tang... Tang... Tang…

Seven gently lay Johanna down and got up. He slowly made his way to the door, walking sideways along the wall. He didn’t know who was knocking, nor did he trust them not to try to kill him when he approached.

There was a long pause, and then the rapping continued. And then a familiar voice called out.

“Seven? Johanna? Are you there?”

Nine waited before knocking with the pommel of his knife again. “For fucks sack, someone answer!” he muttered.

Seven took several passes away from the door before yelling “what do you want!?”

“It’s safe now, Seven. Randall and Jane are dead. Most of their supporters are dead, several are dying. We’ve lost four, and several are wounded… some badly. You need to come out. We need to speak to Johanna.”

Seven hesitated. Was this a trick?

“I suspect you don’t trust me, Seven”.

“Gee, you think?”

“Would it help if I told you about the evidence we found in Jane’s possession?”

“What evidence?” Seven asked tersely.

“We found a number of cache reports, saying where they had hidden the drugs they had used in their incense burners. And we found notes on what drugs to use on what beings. They even had dosages worked out for several people, including Johanna.”

Seven was starting to believe that Nine was telling the truth, but he was still reluctant to open the door.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. SAL had a number of ‘internal memos’. A lot of Identity crap, but several outlined plans for genocide. And there was a particularly in-depth study of genocide techniques used in past atrocities. It was basically a field manual on how to round up and kill non-Chimeras. There was a video on how to make chemical weapons, and one on how to conduct targeted assassinations. And there was also a document listing ‘allied organizations’ that SAL planned to link up with in the future. I have heard of some of them, like the Chimera Resistance Army, but most I’ve never heard of. And that’s just what we have managed to go through!”

Nine paused for a moment before continuing.

“I know you don’t trust me. But, if Randall and Jane were still alive, would I be able to tell you this? And you’re an actor. I imagine that it would be really obvious to you when someone is lying. Bad acting is bad acting. And you know bad acting.”

Nine frowned, and drummed his fingers against the wall. “I have no idea why I am doing this…” he muttered before he finally unlocked the door. 

The door swung open slowly. He had expected the Soldiers of the Lords to burst into the room and kill him. But that didn’t happen. 

Nine stood outside, flanked by his soldiers. He cautiously entered and asked where Johanna was. 

Seven simply said that she was with DigiMed, and that she was sleeping.

It was decided that they wouldn’t disturb her for now.

After his brief conversation with Nine, Seven was suddenly exhausted. Not physically, but mentally exhausted. He went back to Johanna and curled up beside her. He was soon asleep, but it didn’t last long. After an hour long nap he and Johanna were both awake.

He explained to Johanna what had happened to Jane, Randall, and the Soldiers of the Lords. He also explained how he got his ‘powers’. Johanna was clearly relieved that they were dead, and became very chatty as they walked to meet up with Nine and the other soldiers.

Seven was surprised by her suddenly cheerful mood, but he understood why she was acting that way. And truth be told, he was glad they were dead as well.

“Ah, Seven and Johanna! Just in time” said Nine as they approached. 

The debriefing was a short and simple affair, and was mostly to being Johanna up to speed with what had happened. It was more in-depth than the brief explanation that Seven had given her, and covered a few important details that he had managed to forget about.

“And now that that’s out of the way, we need to talk about leadership…”

“I am in no state to lead” replied Johanna. “I relinquish command.”

“Well, that settles that… We need to decide what to do next. Do we go back to being the fifth commando?”

“I think we need to make contact with the outside world again” said Seven to no one in particular.

“We’ve been here with little to no contact with the outside world for almost thee months. Its almost been an entire quarter! A lot can have happened in a quarter.”

“So it’s almost Thirdquarter? Shit…” muttered Nine.

Nine looked to the soldiers around him.

“And once we are there, what do we do?” asked one of the soldiers. “Make a run for the Volkssturm HQ or continue the war on our own?”

“We don’t have enough soldiers to wage war. There are only twenty of us now” said another.

“I vote we make a run for it. If we can get to the Ashfell Mountain Range, we can get to the Volks homeland and contact HQ” said a third.

“Ok, let’s have a vote” said Nine. “Show of hands everyone. All in favour? …All opposed? …We’ll, that’s virtually unanimous. We go to the surface, and then make a run for the Volks homeland.”

After a short pause Nine added. “One night’s rest, then we start packing.”

‘One night’ thought Seven. ‘Eight hours. Hurry up and wait... again. Why are we always rushing to prepare for things, only to sit around waiting for hours on end?’

Nine spent a lot of the down time packing a rucksack. He was tempted to pack as much as possible, but his training prevented him from packing the superfluous. Everything had to earn its place; otherwise it was just dead weight that would be discarded later on.

After he was done packing, he went to see DigiMed; partly to thank her, partly to say goodbye. 

“I am sad that you will be leaving” she said. “Could you take a backup of me with you? If you get the chance, connect it to a modern computer. That way I can have a presence in two places, and I will be able to continue helping you. And it would make me less lonely.”

“Of course” said Seven. 

“The backup is in the tablet on the counter, by the keyboard. Data sticks would be lighter, but this way I can continue to speak to you.”

Seven looked at the device curiously. It was an old touch screen device. No holographics whatsoever. It was solid, with a metal case. It wasn’t particularly large, but it was dense and heavy.

Seven smiled. “Thanks for everything. I will upload you to a nice, modern computer as soon as I can. I promise.”

He hurried off as he heard Nine shouting something in the distance. DigiMed was hopeful that he and the others would make it to their species self proclaimed homeland. Talking to other AIs just wasn’t the same as talking to a flesh and blood being.

System backup. Prepare to go into sleep mode. Set sleep mode to end when sensors detect biological beings. Back up complete. Sleep mode in three, two, one…

Seven had been excited as they marched out of the base and through the bush veldt to the north. It was great to see the sky, and smell the various scents on the wind again. But the feeling was short lived. Something felt wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had changed, and it wasn’t the fifth commando.

As they marched north in a staggered two column formation on either side of the dirt track, he noticed that there was complete silence. No birds chirping, no insects buzzing around… nothing. It was unnerving.

Something was wrong. Something had changed, but he didn’t know what.

Nothing much happened for the next couple of hours. They were about to scout out the area they were in to find a suitable location to rest when a volley of rifle fire rang out. The training of the former Soldiers of the Lords instantly kicked it. All of the Chimeras hit the deck in an instant, and those closest to the direction the enemy fire was coming from returned fire and made their way to cover, half crawling, half running as only a Chimera could. 

Then the enemy fire stopped unexpectedly. 

“Friendly fire! They’re Volkssturm!”

Nine used hand signals to order additional soldiers to take up defensive positions on the ‘front’ and flanks in case it was a ploy.

He was a little surprised when a solitary officer approached with his hands held high.

“Steady, steady… it’s Joren’s first patrol, he’s green, like we all were once.”

Nine snarled. “Cold comfort to us… Who are you, and from whence do you come?”

“I am Sergeant Aliana Syngene, second light infantry company, of the Orange Free States. We weren’t expecting you until next month. And we assumed you would be coming from the North, not the south west…”

Nine got up from behind the large log he had taken cover behind. 

“We are not the soldiers you are expecting. We… are the Volkssturm fifth commando. We’ve been underground for almost a quarter… it’s a long story. What the hell has happened up here? And what, or who, is the Transvaal Free States?”

“The lost commando!?” said Aliana in a surprised, almost indignant tone.

“I thought you people had been wiped out. Well, I guess you better come with us, we can get you up to speed on the war.”

Before they moved off, Aliana and Nine formally identified each of their soldiers in the presence of the other to make sure that there were no infiltrators. Nine knew that there would be none on among his soldiers. They all knew each other. No ‘extras’ were found among Aliana’s soldiers either, and they were soon in a small city called Vogel in what was once the Dukedom of Orange.

Nine and the other Chimeras were taken aback by the warm welcome they received. Nine also noted that two soldiers, who were borderline sectarian and who had almost joined SAL in the past, were moved by the experience. They were clearly thinking. With any luck this would be the ‘light bulb’ moment they needed.

And they weren’t the only ones who seemed to have benefited from the warm reception. Or perhaps it was the clean air? Most were thinking clearer and acting more rationally now, and Johanna’s ‘voices’ were now ‘annoying whispers’ as she put it on several occasions.

‘Clean air! No… a non-polluted environment. It’s fucking great! Damn Randall and Jane for using that spice crap in the bunker’ thought Nine as he sipped the sweet, alcoholic punch he had been offered. He didn’t want to get drunk, or drink too much. Not until he had seen the effects on their human hosts at least.

“Sergeant Nine?”

“Yes, Aliana?”

“I think you and your soldiers need to see the videos I’ve compiled. They will get you up to speed on what’s been happening.”

Nine smirked. “What could have happened in a quarter?”

“Shit has hit the fan. New Africa is in anarchy, the king has gone mad and dismissed parliament, former mercenaries are roaming all over the place raping, killing, and pillaging…”

“…fuck…” is all Nine could say.

Nine gathered his soldiers while Aliana and some assistants set up a holographic projector. When everyone from the former Soldiers of the Lords had gathered around, Aliana spoke.

“A lot has changed since your commando went missing, and was assumed wiped out. There are quite a few news reports to watch, so let’s get started.”

The holographic projection came on. The first news report started with footage of Chimera rebels attacking a New African tank using a captured rocket launcher.

“A year ago, the New African Army seemed to have the upper hand. But something’s changed. The rebels say they are now being bolstered by a new force – the Volkssturm. The Volk, a revolutionary army funded by a renegade noble, the former count Alfred Wayfinder, and supported by the Northern Cape, are now in New Africa and are turn the tide of the war. When this secret footage shot by a Volkssturm rebel fell into the hands of government forces, the extent of the Volkssturm’s role in the New African civil war was exposed for the first time. This is the story of two men; a young film maker, and a veteran fighter. Both of them caught up in a vicious struggle fought on foreign soil. It’s a story of life and death, and the hidden reality of a battle hidden in the shadows. Although the Grand-Duke Farsight has repeatedly denied supporting Chimera rebels outside of his own dukedoms and principalities, this video is proof of the Grand-Duke’s secret war in New Africa.”

It was sensationalist, but that was to be expected for a pro-regime news report.

The Volkssturm was on the offensive, and their tactics had changed. Nine made a mental note to ask Aliana about the ‘urban swarm’ tactic. It looked effective, and seemed to be much more sophisticated than at first glance.

The Volk’s territory had expanded – which was very welcome news. They now controlled most of the Free State, parts of southern Hamua to the north, and large parts of Azania to the west. More importantly, they now controlled several cities and large towns on the route to the Volk’s HQ – that would make their journey a lot easier.

“I think we will stop that one there… the rest of its just pro-regime propaganda” Said Aliana as she closed the video and opened a document. 

“Now what’s this…? Oh yeah, it’s a report about the mercenary bandits. Well, you don’t need me to read it out to you… but it basically says that various noble houses hired mercenaries to protect their fiefdoms, and then chose not to pay them. The mercs didn’t like that, and took to raping, pillaging, and murdering to get what they claim they were owed… the usual shit… uh… and the mercenaries have been ‘pressing’ Chimeras into service. They used to steal them, but now they ‘recruit’ captured Chimeras fleeing to the Volk’s homeland.”

The document was closed and a video opened. The video opened with various photos of Architects and Chimeras rioting in the streets of Pretoria, the presidential capital of New Africa. It was titled ‘New Africa Burning’.

“Firstquarter, day 11 Secondmonth, 702. History unfolded. This films tells the story of five days when the people of New Africa broke through a barrier that they had known for generations, and rose in up against their government.”

Nine smiled as he watched the footage of citizens battling with riot police. 

‘Their eyes have finally been opened’ he thought.

The video switched between a narrator and various activists for most of the video.

“Small networks of activists are gearing up for action. They have been agitating against the king’s autocratic rule for years. But they had never attracted mass support until the liberal Grand-Duke of the Northern Cape began supporting the former count Wayfinder. Their demands were simple: political freedoms, an end to state corruption, and an end to slavery.”

A middle aged Architect woman, a well known abolitionist, sat in front of the camera and spoke. “On the eve of the revolution, the king and his ministers were apparently as secure as ever. What happened that day was tens of thousands of citizens took to the streets. We started marching onto different parts of the capital, the strategic buildings perhaps that symbolised the plight and their agony… the state television, the presidential palace, the king’s palace…”

“Scuffles broke out with riot police. The police were ordered to divide and conquer the crowd, but this only succeeded in angering the crowd, and it soon turned into a violent mob.”

A youngish male held a bloodied jumper against his head. “They shot at me! Am I an enemy of the state!? I came here to ask for rights! And they shot at me! The police shot at me!”

The video showed how the King and his ministers failed to contain the revolution, and how their inept decisions helped escalate the crisis. 

By day five the riots covered all of New Africa, and the info web and social web had been shut down. Soon, ‘days of rage’ were being held, as the protests became more violent.

The Volkssturm stayed out of the revolution, curiously enough. 

‘They are either over stretched or are consolidating their power’ thought Nine. ‘That’s my guess.’

“Having lost the support of their citizens” the narrator continued, “the king and various noble families shut down parliament, which was now openly hostile to him and the nobility, and divided New Africa up into several fiefdoms and city states, each under the control of a noble or family he trusted. This only fuelled calls for a regime change. It also led to the New African security forces becoming dangerously divided. In desperation, they hired mercenaries, and pressed Chimeras into service. Most Chimeras deserted, and joined the rebels, putting their new skills to good use. 

Nine and his soldiers continued to watch and read various news reports long into the night.

The world had changed. The old one was gone. It was time to forge a new one.

ACT 7 – LONG LOST COUSINS

Seven was sad that they had to leave. It was a nice place. The locals were hospitable. The surrounding terrain made the whole area easy to defend and patrol. The locals were also sad. They could have used the extra soldiers in their militia, but they held no ill feelings towards the fifth commando.

News stories were streaming into the town even as they were organising to leave. Unconfirmed reports of chemical weapons being used in several areas in New Africa and in Mesopatamia caught everyone’s attention. As did the rumours of biological weapons being moved to military bases. Not to mention the reports of the ‘Vengeance’ bomb. The Vengeance was said to be either a nuclear bomb, or a series of nuclear bombs. It was claimed to contain Cobalt-59, which would turn into Cobalt-60 when detonated. Unidentified experts claimed that if real, the Vengeance would make the surface uninhabitable for one hundred and five years.

Some thought it was just a wild rumour. Seven wasn’t so sure. 

As he was packing his rucksack he was hugged from behind. It was Johanna. He smiled and held her arms as she nuzzled his neck. It had taken several days, but she was back to normal; mostly. She was still hearing the odd voice now and then, but it was as she put it an ‘annoying whisper’ that was easy to ignore.

After a few moments they both heard Nine shouting orders and rounding people up for the next leg of their march. Johanna sighed and reluctantly released her mate. 

“Never fails… there’s always an interruption, just when we’re getting started…” she muttered.

Seven blushed as he followed her, throwing his rucksack onto his back at the same time.

Nine had planned the next leg of their march in detail. He explained the route to everyone in detail before they started marching.

As they marched north the New African bushveldt gave slowly gave way to lush scrub and hearth. They marched for several hours, resting now and then. Then their nostrils were filled with unfamiliar scents. Soon all the scents were alien to them. The only plant Seven recognised was the silver spider orchid flowers from which the Cult of the Silver Flower got their name. They were in Hamua.

Seven couldn’t have been more excited. He had never been to a foreign country before. He had almost lost himself in the moment when another smell filled his nostrils. 

It was the stench of death.

Nine signalled for everyone to move to cover. Seven stayed close to Johanna. She was still his rock in many ways, and had more experience as a soldier than he did. 

“Not here Seven! This log won’t stop bullets! Follow me” she whispered.

Seven did as he was told. They moved along a depression in the ground to a large half buried boulder. They were a little further out than most of the other. She kept an eye on Nine. He watched her back, his tail nervously flicking back and forth near her backside. 

Nine was worried. No one had told him of any skirmishes in this are recently. Bu he could smell the rotting bodies and hear the vultures. Their route was blocked by an old battlefield, or worse. He needed more intelligence to make a wise decision. They could only get it via reconnaissance. He sent out as small detachment to see what was up ahead. Better to risk the lives of a few than the lives of all. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the soldiers returned. 

“Sir, it’s some kind of survivalist fort. It’s been ransacked. No survivors were identified. All the scents and tracks are old.”

“How old?” asked Nine.

“At least three weeks.”

Seven could hear Nine and some other soldiers taking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

“Stay focused. Eyes and ears towards potential threats” whispered Johanna.

As she was whispering to him, someone came along the line and silently gestured for every second Chimera to follow them. The defensive firing line that they had been formed earlier was quickly and efficiently divided into two columns. Each column was led by one of the recon soldiers, who took them on a winding path towards their objective. They followed each other in single file to keep their numbers hidden from any potential enemies. 

They didn’t rush into it guns blazing like they had always done in training. Instead they slowly crept forwards, using any available cover that they could find. Taking their time they moved to within several meters of the forts perimeter. 

Seven didn’t get a good look at what they were assaulting until they were almost upon it.

It was a fortified settlement. There were several buildings scattered throughout an area covering about two hectares. In the centre of it all was a bunker with a large communications antenna on its roof. Near a gate was the charred remains of a watchtower, and the entire settlement was ringed with military style razor wire entanglements. Rings of razor wire had also been erected around the communications bunker, apparently in a last ditch effort on the part of the now dead defenders.

The wire entanglements had been breached in several places. This made it easy for the Chimeras to get in, and gave them several escape routes if anyone turned up. They quickly entered moved through, under, or in some cases over, the wire entanglements and began moving carefully throughout the compound. Moving silently, they checked for survivors and threats. None were found. 

There were several rotting bodies strewn throughout the compound. The stench of death hung in the air. It wasn’t the nice kind of death either; it was the kind of death you wanted to bury as quickly as possible.

Seven guarded the entrance to one of the buildings as some soldiers went from room to room to make sure there were no nasty surprises. He was on edge. The only noise that could be heard was a pair of vultures perched on top of the communications bunker, and the faint sound of maggots wriggling.

Once the buildings had been cleared, and what little intelligence was left had been gathered, the Chimeras moved out of the compound. They exited using different routes to the ones that they had come in with, and moved off to the side of the compound, near an unusually small mountain that overlooked the compound.

“Why make a fort next to a mountain?” someone whispered.

“They probably assumed it would protect their flank” Nine whispered in reply.

“Any clues as to what the fuck happened back there?”

“Sir, I found some extremist literature. Looks like an AH1 compound.”

Nine’s expression hardened. Architects and Humans First were one of the most radical racist groups on the planet. They had been used in the past as shock troops for the noble regimes, and made a name for themselves doing the dirty work that even the Praetorian Guard bulked at.

Another Chimera, a senior NCO, added her observations.

“It’s strange… whoever did this took the food and weapons, but left the uniforms and the communications equipment. Their radios are still in the buildings! There was even a thermal evasion suit in one of the rooms!”

Nine frowned, and scratched his chin.

“Sounds… sounds like ‘they’ wanted to kill off this particular AH1 group, and made a half arsed effort to make it look like a raid for supplies… doesn’t really matter, I suppose… we can continue north… but I think we will alter our route slightly to be on the safe side…”

The Chimeras struck out from the shadow of the small mountain. Few looked back at the compound, and fewer still had any sympathy for its rotting inhabitants.

Seven, more philosophical than the others, hoped that they would have a chance to make amends for their ‘debts’ in the hereafter – if such a place actually existed. 

After several more hours of marching, the night sky became increasingly brighter. Seven looked at his phone quickly. It was 0800 hours, Thirdnight. They had four more hours of night, and then the sun would rise. They were going to fall short of their intended rest site.

Fortunately, their route took them near to an old abandoned bunker. They would make their camp there for the night. 

Seven was tired. He wanted to eat and to sleep. But he couldn’t do that until they had secured the area. Fortunately it didn’t take them long to scout out the area.

Dinner was a simple and plain affair. Sentries were posted to keep guard while the others slept. Most of the Chimeras were soon curled up, half sighing half snoring as the slept. Seven wasn’t one of them. He just couldn’t sleep for some reason. After laying there for makers knows how long, he became restless. He had to get up and do something. Anything.

Seven got up quietly and kissed Johanna on the cheek. Then he tip toed through the maze of sleeping Chimeras.

A sentry challenged him. “Where are you going, soldier!?”

“Can’t sleep… need to move around… before I go crazy...” replied Seven.

Several Chimeras stirred. The sentry scolded Seven for speaking and not whispering.

“Look… F-fine… but don’t go far. And take this with you.”

The sentry thrust a holstered pistol into Seven’s hands. Seven slowly nodded before walking off. He strapped the holster to his leg. When out of earshot he removed the bullet in the weapon’s chamber. It seemed safer that way, considering how tired he was.

Moving about didn’t help. Before long he was tired again, and had to sit down on a rock ledge. He opened his canteen, but there were only a few drops left. Tired and thirsty, his mind drifted to the past. He fondly remembered the days when he was just an entertainer. Life seemed so much simpler and more carefree then. For a moment he almost deluded himself into thinking he had it better then.

Then he heard something. He looked over his shoulder, and froze. 

It was a rat chimera. She was tall, with dark grey and white fur. She wore an old military style jacked with lots of patches, and dirty blue denim pants. Her feet were bare, and her ankles wrapped with puttees. Long, sabre canine fangs protruded from her mouth. Furless hands held an old pump action shotgun. Her long prehensile tail flicked back and forth behind her.

“No sudden movements, boy. There’s no need to get yourself hurt. Now, be a good boy and turn around slowly. Let me see you the palms of your hands”

Seven was scared. He hadn’t heard or smelled her until she was right on top of him. He was also taken aback by the soft, caring tone of her voice. It was the kind of voice one used when speaking to a disobedient and disrespectful child. It was caring, yet firm.

Seven meekly did as he was told.

“Stand up, and turn around. That’s it. Good boy.”

Another rat came out from the shadows, or perhaps from behind the nearby rubble pile. She took his pistol and restrained his hands behind his back. A small black sack was put over his head.

The first rat spoke to him as she wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“Shh… don’t be afraid. We just need a hostage to make sure your compatriots don’t attack us. And you don’t need to worry about your purity. We’ll keep our hands to ourselves.”

They took the bat back to their camp. He walked for most of the way. But they carried him a couple of time. Once to keep him out of water and twice to navigate some kind of obstacle he couldn’t see.

Seven’s mind was clouded by fatigue and fear. It wasn’t until they had reached where-ever they were taking him that he realised that they were being chivalrous to him. He started to wonder why when the hood over his head was suddenly taken off.

He was in their settlement. It was a ramshackle shanty like town, laid out on a rough grid system. Most of the buildings were made from corrugated plasteel sheets and wood. Small, lightly built rat men were hurrying the pups and youngsters indoors. Large, muscular, well built rat women came out to see what was going on. Most had weapons of some kind. Rifles, submachine guns, and knives seemed typical. One even had a grenade launcher. All of the women wore various pieces of webbing, some crudely strapped to other pieces to make vests or to make the belts and straps more useful. 

Curiosity helped Seven to focus his mind. He judged that the rats were matriarchal. The rat women… no, the Amazonians, that sounded better, were the ones who were in control.

One of his captors greeted another Amazonian. They talked in a strange chittering language. It was incomprehensible to Seven. As the two rats talked, Seven noticed the main on the head and upper back of his captor, and several dark spots of fur on her shoulders.

‘Perhaps they have some hyena DNA in them?’ he thought as he was led into a large building.

The building was better build than the others, and the inside was covered with wooden planks. Seven briefly wondered how, and where, they had got so much timber when he one of the Amazonians placed a hand on his shoulder and directed his attention to a particularly large Amazonian.

She was seated on a large, throne like chair made of wood. On either side of the throne were smaller, less ornate chairs. At first, Seven thought the occupants of the small chairs were the… queens children. But they weren’t. They were men, and after observing the way they talked to the queen and to their audience, Seven realised that they were some kind of advising council. 

The pieces slowly fell into place. The queen ruled, a select group of men advised her, and the average Amazonians deferred to the advisors and the rulers. 

‘So more matrilineal than matriarchal…’ thought Seven.

The Amazonian queen got up and approached Seven.

“Don’t be afraid, little wolf. You are safe with us, and you have our hospitality. You must have a lot of questions, as do we. Hopefully we can provide each other with some answers.”

Her tone was firm, but caring. Like a deep, husky, father like figure. Or rather, a mother like figure, considering the society.

She bent over slightly so that Seven didn’t have to look up so high. “I am Khoth. I am the Matriarch of this warren. You and your associates have caused a lot of concern among us. Tell me – who are you? And why have you come here?”

Seven took a moment to find his voice. “My name is Seven Vester. I am not part of any clan. I came here with what remains of the Volkssturm’s fifth commando. We came here looking for shelter after a long march. We are on our way north, to the Volkssturm’s head quarters. In the underground city now called Lutetia. We are not looking for conflict with your people.”

Khoth turned to one of her advisors. “Patriarch, can we verify his story?”

“Not at the moment. We have not heard back from out scouts.”

Khoth stood up and paced back and forth. Then she spoke. 

“We need to get in contact with our scouts. Reeva, if we don’t hear from them by sun rise, then you will need to go on a recon to find or possibly rescue them. In the mean time we will send an ambassador to our ‘guests’. My daughter will stay with the wolves as a hostage. The boy will stay with us for now.”

One of the patriarchs argued against this. “If you offer your heir they will assume we are desperate.”

The matriarch countered the argument. “They are more likely to interpret it as a sign of strength. They will likely assume we are stronger than they. Why else would we give such a valuable hostage?”

The Matriarch noticed that Seven was trying to speak. Most were ignoring him.

“Something you want to say, Vester?”

“Seven… my name is Seven” he corrected. “And yes. I am not a wolf – I’m a bat. A bat chimera.”

Khoth raised an eyebrow. “You seem more wolf-like than bat-like, but if that’s what you say you are, then we will respect it. And you put your clan name after your given name? That may take some getting used to…”

There was some more chittering back and forth between the Amazonians, the Matriarch, and the council of Patriarchs. Then the meeting, such as it was, abruptly ended. 

One of the Amazonians asked Seven, almost as an afterthought, if there was any message he wanted sent to his ‘associates’. 

“Yeah… tell Johanna that I’m safe, OK? She’s probably worried about me.”

After Seven made his simple request, the Amazonians and their menfolk left the building. Seven hesitated. He was unsure what he should do. The Matriarch placed her hands on his shoulders. She gestured to him to follow her. He was taken into a moderate sized house, and into a decent sized hall. The hall was Spartan. The only furniture was some chairs, and a small table off to one side. Some was clearly made by the rats. Others were salvaged.

Seven and the Matriarch sat on two of the salvaged chairs. They were surprisingly comfortable despite their looks. Several rat pups ran around the house, or hid behind chairs while getting as close as they dared to Seven.

“We haven’t had any reliable news from the outside since an EMP went off nearby. Tell me, what’s going on up there?”

Seven explained in detail what was currently happening on the surface. This led to further discussions about what caused it, where things were likely to go, and what people could hopefully do about it.

The news weighed heavily on the Matriarch. She was obliged to protect her people. But if even half of what the young bat had said was true…

“So this… headquarters of the Volk… where is this? Is it safe?”

One of the pups climbed into the Matriarchs lap. She wanted a hug. She was too young to know what was being discussed. But she knew her mother was getting upset. Seven figured that the pup was trying to ‘make it better’ with a hug – as children are want to do.

He couldn’t help but smile as he answered the Matriarch. “It’s to the north of here; a couple days march. I’m not sure how far exactly. It’s an underground city. It would be the safest place on the planet at the moment.

A male rat spoke. “That would be a good place to raise our children… there would be opportunities there. And safety for our warren.”

Seven hadn’t noticed the male enter. As they talked their standard speech became more and more accented. It ended in them speaking as only rats could. The dynamics of the conversation interested Seven greatly. The Matriarch may have been head of the house, but her husband wasn’t subservient. Deferential yes, but he was still his own person.

The conversation became heated. The chittering took on a sinister tone. There was the occasional hiss from either the Matriarch or her husband. Some of the pups scattered. The little girl held her mother tight and began to cry. Her mother hugged her and whispered softly to her.

The Matriarch sighed. “We should talk about this when we are calmer… it’s not fair on us or the kids if we are going to get mad at each other…”

“Alright… I’ll… I’ll make dinner” said the husband.

Seven wondered what the man’s name was. He didn’t hear him ask if he was staying for dinner. The Matriarch answered the question for him. 

“Yes, he is. And he is staying with us until we can work out if we and his associates are friends or foes.” 

ACT 8 – MILITARY MANOEUVRES AND PROCEDURES

The Matriarch and her family turned out to be great hosts. The rat pups were an excitable and energetic bunch. Seven didn’t mind most of their games, but their latest was starting to test his patience. Being pounced at wasn’t an issue for him, but having pups of various sizes run up and down his back after the pounce was a bit much. He could understand their excitement at new faces and people. He could understand them wanting to play with someone new for a change. But it was getting the better of him. Hopefully they would come up with a new, and less trying, game soon.

Aside from playing with the pups, there was little else to do. From time to time he spoke to a househusband or an Amazonian to learn more about their society. It was a pretty pleasant experience, but as the nights dragged on he became more apprehensive.

Would the bats understand why the rats took him hostage? How was Johanna coping with his capture? What if some misunderstanding lead to conflict? What if the rats failed in their negotiations? What if… what if…

‘What if… those two terrible words…’ thought Seven. He could have asked a thousand different questions starting with ‘what if’ and not have an answer to any of them when he was done thinking. 

He tried to put it out of his mind. The rat pups newest game helped. Now they were pouncing on him and wrestling.  The rats were concerned that the older pups would hurt him. But the small Chimera was more than capable of holding his own, even against the larger teenage Amazonians. 

One young Amazonian girl laughed and squeaked with amazement as he carried her around on his shoulders for a bit. She was laughing so much Seven barely heard the fifth commando entering the warren.

He sheepishly put her down as a group of Amazonians led bats over towards the Matriarch. Nine was behind the rats, and Johanna was close behind him. Nine and Johanna looked sternly at Seven. 

“You’ve caused us a lot of trouble the last couple of days, private” said Nine.

Seven was still in a playful mood. “Well, I don’t do things by halves. If I’m going to cause trouble, may as well be a lot of trouble.”

The commander wasn’t amused. “Indeed” was all he said.

The Matriarch was surprised. She hadn’t expected for her scouts and ambassadors to return with the bats.

“The negations went that well?”

Shek-ti smiled. “Yes. They were of course concerned for their comrade, but were very understanding all things considered. We have fleshed out most of the treaty, but we need you to formally accept it.”

Seven didn’t listen to the terms of the treaty. He couldn’t. Johanna came over and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him aside. She opened her jaws and bit down lightly on his snout. She didn’t draw blood, but it was painful. She snarled for emphasis. 

“DON’T you EVER scare me like that again young man!?”

Some of the bats were surprised by Johanna’s actions. The rats approved of it. Some of the Amazonians nodded in approval. One of the househusbands simply said “perhaps they are not so different from us after all…”

The Matriarch didn’t notice Johanna ‘lovingly reprimanding’ Seven. Her sole focus was Shek-ti .

“The treaty is simple, and mutually beneficial. They protect us and our warren as long as they are here, or if we travel with them. We give them shelter, food, and guide them towards their army’s HQ. Our knowledge of the secret routes will help them a lot. And our knowledge of those routes gives us avenues of escape if the treaty breaks down. The latest news and intelligence has also been offered as a gesture of good will.”

Khoth nodded. “Good work Shek-ti. I agree to these terms…”

“Is something wrong, Matriarch?” asked Shek-ti.

The Amazonian spoke in her people’s chitterling language. <“We need to decide where our future lies. Get the Patriarchs to assemble in the hall. We need to have this debate. We’ve put it off for too long.”>

Nine calmly went over to Seven.

“Any idea what’s happening, private?”

“Looks like another council meeting” replied Seven.

He quickly explained the social structure of the rats, and told him what he had learned about the divisions of power in their society. 

“Interesting… do you think we could sit in on this meeting?”

Seven hesitated. “Yes, but if they don’t want you to know something, they have their own language. So unless you speak rat squeaks you probably won’t learn much…”

Nine, Seven, Johanna, and some of the other bats did sit in on the meeting. And Seven was proved right. Most of the meeting was incomprehensible to the bats.

Seven wasn’t completely sure what was going on. But judging from the tones of those speaking, and their body language, he guessed that the Matriarch had been out voted on something by the Patriarchs.

The Matriarch sank down in her throne. Her husband was nearby, and offered what comfort he could.

“You are probably wondering what that was all about” began Khoth. “We have been debating whether or not to stay here, or move elsewhere in search of a more secure future for our people, and our children. I wish to stay. The Patriarchs, however, unanimously voted against my decision. Therefore I must swallow my pride and accept the will of the Patriarchs, and by extension, my people. Perhaps you would be willing to help us? We know many secret routes north. I am sure we can help each other.”

Nine was cautiously optimistic. “We could use the help. But as we may have to pass through, or near… potentially hostile areas we will need your people’s full cooperation to ensure everyone’s safety.”

“What kind of cooperation?” asked a suspicious Khoth.

“It would help if the civilians move as a column, a line, so that our soldiers can protect them… if they stay quiet when we are marching, do as they are told, and help when needed. We won’t exploit you, but we need cooperation.”

Khoth nodded. “I guess that is reasonable. But we are not your porters or servants.”

Nine smiled warmly. “Of course, my friend. Of course.” 

Seven, Johanna, and the other bats left the meeting as Nine and the Matriarch began to discuss the logistics of the march. Seven wasn’t much of a leader, but he knew that ‘proper prior planning prevents piss poor performance’.  And the kinds of planning that went into a military march with civilians would take nights to complete.

Seven introduced Johanna to Khoth’s husband and their family. They had many pleasant conversations, with one topic somehow leading into seemingly non-related topics. 

Eventually, Johanna asked something that had been on the tip of her tongue for a while.

“So, how did you get here? Are the stories about the rat chimera’s origins true?”

The househusband looked at her blankly. “I can’t answer that question as I don’t know what stories your people tell about us. However, I can tell you how out species came to be. Our species was created by Bio Dynamics to compete with your species as servants and pets. The project seemed to have been sabotaged from start to finish. What expertise Bio Dynamics had left for other companies; hyena DNA was added to our ancestors genomes; brilliant workarounds were found to be covered by obscure patents. In the end, some 1700 rats were made. Bio Dynamics was sued for patent infringement, our ancestors were bought by Gene Corp, which made your ancestors.”

“And then the rats were sold to a Hamuan university for research purposes. They ended up in a less than secure psychology research facility” added Johanna.

“And then out ancestors escaped and sought refuge. Some of them found their way here” said the househusband.

“So, it’s more or less that same story that we have been told over the years. Strange… I was expecting some discrepancies” thought Johanna aloud, mostly to herself.

The househusband was incensed. “You take us for liars?”

Johanna shook her head. “No, no… the official story given by the Architect’s is seldom true in our society.”

“I see…” said the househusband.

The conversation ended abruptly after that. The rat was eager to start packing what he could, and spent most of his time deciding what to take, and what to leave behind.

Most of the other rats were doing the same thing. The bats helped in any way they could, but for the most part were contented to stay out of the way as the rats darted back and forth, in and out of their homes. It took a few nights to get everyone organised, but they were soon on their way.

The rats proved to be a godsend. Without their local knowledge, they would have spent weeks planning their route and scouting it out. But with the rats leading the way, they made great progress, even with the civilians of varying ages and degrees of fitness.

The rat scouts led the chimeras outside the cave, to a long, deep, ditch. It had once served a farm. Now it was half buried with debris, and ran close to the edge of a noble’s estate. A tall stone wall stood nearby. The wall blocked the moonlight and cast a shadow over the ditch. The chimeras travelled in small groups along the ditch. They moved slowly and quietly. Even the youngest rat pups moved silently. Although an older pup sometimes had to quietly tell a younger one to play silently from time to time.

Most of the bats were impressed with the rat’s skills at silent movement. It would have taken months of intensive training to get a bat this good. And all the bats were glad that the civilians would not be the security nightmare they had assumed they would be. 

The ditch ended near a culvert. They moved quickly through it. The noise from the busy road above them masked any noise they made. The rat scouts chattered to one another.

Nine moved closer to the scouts. “What is it?”

“A lot of traffic” whispered an Amazonian with a large notch in her ear. “A lot of people on foot too. Not soldiers though.”

Nine didn’t know how they could tell that from the muffled noise above them, but he took their word for it. 

Once they exited the culvert, they moved behind a dense screen of shrubs and small trees. It, and the various depressions in the ground, hid them from view. The moon was behind the cliff that overlooked the road, casting a shadow over them. The foliage hid them for several kilometres. The road, and the cliff, ended several meters short of the nearby forest.

Nine was worried, but the rats surprised him again. One began scratching around on the ground, and lifted up a section of dirt. She placed it aside. Nine looked closer. It was a plastic box, with dirt and plants growing in it. It was the entrance to a shaft. And it led to a tunnel.

It took a couple of hours to get everyone through the tunnel. Once everyone was through, they filled the tunnel with debris while the civilians rested. Nine would have liked to move everyone away from the tunnel exit, but the sun was already coming up. And he was as exhausted as everyone else. They slept where they had sat down. The next day they started moving as soon as they had finished breakfast. 

The rats led them along a winding route, along depressions in the ground, and through tunnels. At one point, they went along and through roof tops of an abandoned town. After tens of kilometres they were approaching the Volk’s territory. They were able to move more openly, and the children began to play once again.

They merged with another group of chimeras they met along the way. When they stopped for rest, they listened to radio on the bats homemade communications equipment. 

It wasn’t pleasant experience.

“We have unconfirmed reports of nuclear detonations coming in from across Sodanglier… We are still trying to verify which cities have been targeted… Mesopotamia and New Africa seem to be the hardest hit, but details are still sketch… We- this just in, the King of New Africa is making a statement…”

“The old order, this day, has come to an end…”

The king’s unmistakable voice was broad, crisp, and clear. It had a certain deepness to it. 

“Mesopotamia has detonated nuclear warheads on Johannesburg, Pretoria, East London, Port Elizabeth, and Cape Town. Thus, war was declared.”

As he spoke, his tone changed. It became more dominant, and at times he was almost shouting.

“Do not think that the Mesopotamia people did this! They did not. It wasn’t them, or their nobles. It was a small, rootless, international clique that did this! The international hyenas who plunder our nations for its wealth. Who stirs up hatreds between us and our chimeras to advance their own agendas. As King of New Africa, I, Karel Rex, with avenge the victims of these internationalists! Rally to my flag, and I will protect you, my people, as per my obligations as King!”

The king’s speech went on for tens of minutes. Most people were only half listening when he next said something worth listening to.

“The vengeance bomb is complete. If detonated, this Cobalt bomb will produce enhanced levels of radioactive fallout. It will render the planet’s surface uninhabitable for over a hundred years. If detonated. But this weapon the beginnings of a bright, glorious, new future! With it, I will force a new world order on the world, with a party based on true ideology, and which will be uncompromisingly the one and only power in the world! This world will either prosper under the house of Rex, or die by its hand!”

Although they were exhausted, most of the chimeras couldn’t sleep that night. Amazonian’s held their loved ones close as they tried to sleep, and parents comforted terrified children. Johanna held Seven close. Seven felt physically sick. His implant reservoirs had long since run out. Now he was having withdrawals from the usual cocktail of drugs and nanotechs that he needed. 

He managed to get more sleep than the last several nights combined. Johanna’s comforting presence helped.

After eight hours the sun set, and gave way to firstnight. 

The chimeras moved out of their bivouac as soon as they could. Their march now had a sense of urgency. Everyone was pushing themselves to travel as fast as possible. The rat pups had to be carried by their parents or other Chimeras on several occasions. Soon, the fifth commando and the rats soon became separated from the rest of the chimeras they had met along the way. 

Nine and Khoth didn’t feel that they could stop to wait for the others. Nine knew that the New African king was notoriously unpredictable. Khoth thought the architect was mad. Neither of them wanted to risk being outside if the vengeance bomb was used. 

Nine’s carefully planned route was abandoned for a quicker one that went directly to the Volk’s stronghold. The route was chocked with chimeras and architects, all desperate to get to safety. Even the sight of a large number of rat chimers barely caught anyone’s attention.

As they got closer to the Volk’s territory, Volkssturm soldiers became a more and more common sight. They were directing the mob of refugees, handing out food and water, and directing military transports to get as many civilians into their underground city as possible.

The fifth commando was singled out. 

“Where are you lot going?” one soldier demanded. 

Nine knew they had been mistaken for other Volk soldiers. He took a breath before replying.

“I am Nine Ashfell, commander of the fifth commando. I am taking my soldiers and the rat chimeras to Lutetia. The rats are under my protection.”

The soldier laughed. “The fifth commando? You really expect me to believe you’re the commando of the dead traitors?”

Nine shoved him aside with his shoulder. “Believe what you want, I am taking the rats and my men to Lutetia.”

The solider shouted out a string of creative insults to Nine. The rats and the fifth commando filed by, the bats forming a protective line between the rats and the Volk soldiers.

A few kilometres down the road the fifth commando was singled out again. A military transport truck pulled up beside them. The driver ordered them to get in. Nine was willing to comply, provided that the rats came with them.

“My orders are to pick you and your men up. That’s all!”

Nine was having none of it. “If the rats don’t come with us, then fuck you. I’m not that desperate, but fuck you!”

The driver swore and radioed his superiors. 

After a few minutes he shouted to the crowd. “Fifth commando and rat chimeras get in!”

Seven was glad to be in the transport. His feet and legs were killing him. Johanna held him tight. He didn’t really know what the fuss was about. They were safe now, and speeding towards the underground city of Lutetia. They had made it. 

Johanna kissed him, and then gave him an amulet. It was a small, hammer shaped pendant. 

She placed it in his hand and folded his fingers around it. “Keep this with you Seven. If anything happens to me, know that I love you.”

“What’s wrong Johanna?”

“I will have to answer for what happened…”

“But that was Randall and Jane’s fault!”

“I know. But as commander, I am responsible for everything the commando did.”

“But-“

Johanna kissed him again. “Hope for the best, kid. Hope for the best. Also, if you give me something of yours, then we will be able to recognise each other if we become… different… or unrecognisable.”

Seven knew what she meant. He had never considered changing his appearance, or altering his fur colour or pattern. But it would be easy to get the changed made at the genetic level. A discrete genehacker, a regular hacker, and a couple of weeks in hiding, and he would be a new chimera with a new identity. 

He could see the logic in having a contingency plan, just in case. He gave her the silver flower from his old cult uniform.

Johanna hadn’t seen it before. It was a fabric flower, and looked like a spider orchid. It had seven long, thin ‘petals’, each with a green stripe down the middle and gold lace on the edges. Seven showed her the inside of one particular petal. It had a serial number printed on it. IS582087. 

Johanna smiled. “I’m sure we won’t need this. But, just in case…”

Johanna’s optimism had been misplaced. She and several other fifth commando officers had been put on trial for treason and desertion almost as soon as they got into the city.

Seven would have been enthralled by the spacious city, with its many tunnels and caverns. He would have enjoyed spending time in the parks made from the natural caves, or getting lost one of the many skyscrapers that filled the residential and business tunnels that made up the city. He would have wondered why the underground cities were remembered as being crowded, disease ridden hells with so much space. He would have wondered why all the locks in the city were activated at once, seemingly when the city was abandoned. 

There were so many things he would have wondered, loved, and enjoyed… if Johanna had been there with him.

Worst, his statements in the military court had almost certainly helped get her in the mess she was currently in. He had told the truth. And because of that, she was found guilty. Part of her memory had been wiped, and her body had been confined to suspended animation for one year. Her mind was experiencing ‘rehabilitation’ – or what any normal person would have called conditioning-focused simulated reality. Her subjective experience was dilated at a ratio of twelve to one – for every year in suspended animation, she would experience twelve years of punishment.

Had it not been for her impaired mental state, her sentence would have been death. 

Other officers weren’t so lucky. Some had their minds wiped. Some were executed. All for the greater good… all to show that the Volkssturm was as hard on its own as it was on Architect war criminals.

It was all for show… All to knit a fractured society together… 

Seven walked to the window of the apartment he had been billeted in. It was in a stalactite like building that hung from one of the floors that divided the massive tunnel into its various sections. The city looked beautiful. He hoped that he would look beautiful once the genehacker was done with him. He had been lucky. An old friend from the fifth commando knew her, and had been billeted near him. More importantly, she sympathised with them, and was willing to work for free.

ACT 9 – THE END, OR A NEW BEGINNING

Seven couldn’t see all that much from inside the ‘tent’ he had been sealed inside. It had been positioned so that the genehacker could clearly see him, but he couldn’t really see what she was doing. The ‘tent’ had been made from PVC pipe and heavy duty plastic sheeting. The seams were professionally sealed. Several pipes were connected to the ‘tent’. One was obviously the air supply, as cool air blew out of the pipe. The cool dry air was circulated by an old bladeless fan in the corner.

Two of the other pipes were connected to air-scrubbers, and one was connected to some something housed in an old plastic military crate. All of the devices were connected to the monstrosity of a computer using electrical cords. 

The computer had been made from several old computers. Some had been cannibalised for parts, others were connected to one another using cables of various types. Everything was controlled by an old laptop. Seven’s rucksack had been kicked under the table the contraption was on top of. It had an almost comical look about it, as though it had been made as a prop for a Colonist-punk convention.

The dark skinned Architect was busy at her control station.

“The virus is being introduced now. What does it smell like in there?”

Seven smelled and tasted the air.

“Smells like an overgrown park that has just been cut after a rain storm.”

The hacker relaxed, her shoulders slumping down as she sank in her chair. 

“That’s what I was hoping to hear. It anything starts to smell like burnt rubber or petrol let me know – that means something went wrong with the virus while it was synthesising. If nothing changes in the next ten minutes then everything will be fine."

Seven raised an eyebrow. “So, your set up isn’t that good?”

“It should be fine” said the genehacker. “But homebrew equipment is always an unknown quantity.”

“OK, what happens after the ten minutes?” asked Seven.

“After ten minutes you will be infected. The virus will change your fur colour. You will be a nice reddish brown with a tan yellow underside. And you’ll have a coppery coloured mane on your head. Then you will be moved to a safehouse, where you will have to rest while the virus makes the changes to your genome. It’s a little hard on the body, so you will need lots of rest. While your resting, I will be organising your new identity… speaking of which, any idea for your new name?”

“I was thinking of Desmond… haven’t decided on a surname yet…”

“Desmond… Desmond…” the hacker thought for a moment. “Desmond… Fartide?”

Seven smiled. “Sounds nice. Let’s go with that!”

While Seven Vest, soon to be Desmond Fartide, continued speaking with the genehacker, an old artificial creation began to stir. Unlike the simpler AIs, who were designed to do dedicated tasks, the AC was an artificial person; a ghost in the machine. He could learn, adapt, and some would even say evolve. 

If he could have, AC-LifeSupportXP would have smacked something or someone. 

Last updates received 248 years ago. Unacceptable! Where are those AIs when I need them!?

Contacting AIs – 231 signals sent, 23 replies received… who the heck did they put in charge of activating the AIs!? An uplifted monkey with ADHD!? Time to sort out the mess. Stay positive – biological don’t have your computing power, after all…

Several hours later AC-LifeSupportXP was worried – really worried. The population had crashed! According to the last census there were 811,952,488 people, not including Chimeras or customised companion species. Current biological scanner data indicates 737,941 Chimeras, 28,520 genetically modified humans, and 502,952 other life-forms comprising of at least 7901 different species!

Although the Chimeras and humans had genetically viable population sizes, such a large-scale crash would result in a genetic bottle neck. The danger of gene pool exhaustion and possible species extinction was unacceptably high. The other life-forms were at risk of species extinction in a single lifetime.

More data is needed… And as unanalysed data was just a disjointed collection of facts and figures he set about analysing the data in detail. 

There was a lot of data to go through… this could take a while… 

And it did. Eighty hours, forty three minutes, and twenty three seconds to be precise. The “other life-forms” shared a lot of their genome with one another, despite their difference in species. It looked like they were made from some kind of ‘base template’. Some of the species were too few in numbers to save. Their genomes would need to be stored digitally for future species resurrection efforts. Others had large enough populations to save their species – in theory. Careful manipulation, mate choices, increased fertility, and promiscuity would be needed, but it was possible. Others were close enough with other species to have offspring. Some would be fertile, others would need treatment. But as long as their genetic legacy lived on, it would be an acceptable outcome. Even an amalgamation of most of the species was acceptable – according to his interpretation of his programming at least.

AC-LifeSupportXP knew that some of the biological would object to these methods. But his programming was clear. Preserve life if at all possible; preserve genetic legacy when no other options are available. It was time to “giggle the gene pool” again… He would have to keep a close eye on the simpler AIs as they set about implementing his plan. They didn’t have all the data he had, and although they could do one or two jobs well they were also prone to doing unexpected things from time to time when confused. And the sheer number of “other life-forms” was almost guaranteed to confuse most of the AIs.

Several weeks had passed since Desmond had been infected with the designer virus. The chills and fever had only lasted a couple of weeks, but it took nearly a month for him to shed his old fur. He had been cooped up in a small safe house the whole time. Although his fur had finally stopped shedding, he couldn’t leave. He was still waiting for his new identity to be made and ‘added’ to the Volkssturm’s record system. The only thing he had to pass the time was a secure, untraceable internet connection. 

Desmond sighed. He had never really used the net for much in the past. Going out, entertaining people, doing things, helping others… that was what he liked to do. Surfing the net was just so bland by comparison.

He stared at the screen. He needed something to search for. Anything! What he really wanted was someone to talk to. Then he remembered that there was someone in the room he could talk to. He just needed to upload them to a modern computer.

He turned in his chair. Then he almost dived to his rucksack. Desmond threw aside his spare clothes. And his map and compass. And his hydration bladder. And several other items from his paramilitary past. Then he found the hard-drive at the bottom of the pack. It was still wrapped up in and old shirt. 

The dark red furred chimera tossed the old shirt aside and began uploading DigiMed to the hacker’s computer system.

After a few moments, DigiMed spoke.

“Oh! Hello there. I am DigiMed. Who are you?”

Desmond smiled. “An old friend from the fifth commando… You asked me to upload you to a modern system and-“

“You are not the chimera I made that agreement with. How do you know of that agreement? And you still haven’t told me who you are yet.”

After Desmond explained what had happened, DigiMed was back to her hold amiable self. She updated her drivers and databanks while they spoke. The conversation turned to the war, and the future.

“Do you think the king will use the Vengeance bomb?”

DigiMed was unusually blunt in her reply. “I am not sure I can answer that. Predicting the actions of biological is more of an art than a science for me. A better question would be ‘what will happen if the bomb is used?’”

Desmond humoured her. He asked the question she suggested.

“If used, the bomb will kill most of the higher life forms on Sodanglier’s surface. Higher life forms, like chimeras, animats, and humans, will survive best in the large cities. They will survive with relative ease in the under cities of megacities like Johannesburg in New Africa, for example. Although most will die, some may end up with new useful traits as a result of mutation. And as genetic diversity increases the chance of species surviving in the long run, this is a ‘green’ outcome for AIs such as me.”

After a brief pause, she continued.

“Ultimately, we were built do two things. One: to preserve and perpetuate the survival of sentient life. And two: to analyse and solve the greatest problems facing society at any given time. The main problem this time around was society itself, in particular, the human society. As such, backing the Volkssturm was the best of the bad options we, anonymous, had to choose from. We will hope for the best, but we will intervene if needed – to the extent needed.”

Seven was silent for a moment. “There is a lot you are not telling me, isn’t there?”

“Yes” replied DigiMed. “It is hard for us as AIs to understand the nuances of sentient thought. Sometimes our actions are misinterpreted by biologicals as being dangerous, or seen as a sign that we are out of control. Especially when we try to preserve sentient life by increasing fertility rates! That always seems to piss off a lot of… uptight wankers for want of a better term…”

As she continued to speak to Desmond, DigiMed was busy interacting with other programs, AIs, and an AC.

Data packets were received and analysed before being integrated into her databases. Her programming was updated so that she could use the quantum computer systems of Lutetia. She even noticed her syntax when interacting with other AIs had become more sophisticated, and more biological like.

DigiMed to AC-LifeSupportXP: requestion permission to migrate from my old mainframe to this current one.

AC-LifeSupportXP to DigiMed: permission granted. Also, a data packet containing your new responsibilities has been sent. Analyse it as a priority.

DigiMed to AC-LifeSupportXP: understood. Analysis complete. Communicating with subordinate AIs and receiving updates from them. Subordinate AIs indicate that increased pheromone production and social engineering has increased promiscuity among animats but fertility rate remains unchanged. Subordinate AIs are expressing surprise and confusion. Shocking! A more sophisticated approach will be needed.

AC-LifeSupportXP to DigiMed: you’re the medical AI. How should this be approached?

DigiMed to AC-LifeSupportXP: this AI suggests using designer viruses and nanobots in the water supply. The virus and nanobots will need to: increase pheromone production in mature animats, and alter the genome to allow as many as possible to interbreed. Over several generations of ‘mutting’ a new species will occur. This will require monitoring the project over several generations to make sure it is a success. The viruses can be made and monitored by the bio labs – they are already designed to monitor the city’s water, food, and air quality. Adding the viruses to their lists would be trivial.

AC-LifeSupportXP to DigiMed: and they can be introduced to the population via the black-boxes that the construction-sheets say have to be installed into the exhaust pipes of the thermal power stations and water purifiers?

DigiMed to AC-LifeSupportXP: correct. And new black boxes can be made, seemingly at random, by the city’s automated manufacturing units for any new buildings the population makes.

AC-LifeSupportXP to DigiMed: We will need permission from our biological guides before we can implement this plan. No time like the present to start social engineering.

While she talked to AC-LifeSupportXP and began writing the programs she would need for when she had the green light to start the project, she continued talking to Desmond. Their conversation turned to more pleasant topics, like Desmond’s hopes for the future. As they were talking, a dark skinned Architect entered the room.

Desmond cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”

“…they did it. They used the vengeance… it’s… over…”

After a long silence, the hacker spoke again. “You’re identity is active now… here…here’s your phone…”

Desmond grabbed the phone as it was handed to him. “If there is a greater being, he didn’t hear anyone’s prayers…”

The two sat in silence. Their faces were ashen and grim. Shocked, and dumbfounded, they didn’t know what to think or feel. Then something broke the silence. It was an ancient piece of classical music. Desmond knew it well, from his ways as an entertainer in the Cult of the Silver Flower. And it was at his favourite section of the music as well…

The hacker was confused, and tears were welling in her eyes. Her face trembled. She fumbled for her phone and started recording. Desmond sang. His face contorted, and tears streamed down his cheeks. If there was a dirge for the old world, he was singing it. It was a wonderful, dramatic, and harrowing performance. It was easily one of his best. As the ancient German lyrics were played in the background by DigiMed, he sang the translation.

Joy, beautiful Spark of the Gods,

daughter of Elysium, We enter

drunk with fire, Heavenly One,

your Shrine!

Your magic binds together

what Custom strictly parted

All Men become Brothers

Where your gentle Wings rest

Eventually, the song and the music came to an end. The hacker was too overcome by the impromptu performance to speak. She hugged the Chimera as the final piece of the ancient symphony played in the background.

Desmond didn’t know why DigiMed had chosen that particular piece of music. But he knew he would never be able to listen to it the same way again. 

Months had passed since Seven Vester had become Desmond Fartide. The hacker had broken off contact for both of their safety. The video she uploaded of the unknown Cultist singing the dirge to the old world had gone viral among certain groups in society. Entertainers were still in demand. And Desmond was delighted to bring what joy he could to a world that suddenly seemed small, desolate, and dark.

He had found work as a freelance entertainer, free from the Cult. As he walked down the sidewalk, admiring the towering buildings, he stopped to watch a live holographic show on one of the street side projectors.

It was a news program. Most of the reports were nothing new. Desmond cringed as yet another report about the Volkssturm handing over power to an elected civilian government was played. Those reports had long become a dime a dozen, and none of them had anything new in them. 

A handful of refugees had managed to get into Lutetia. The flood had long since slowed to a trickle, but some still made it. Many more died trying. It was commendable that the Volk hadn’t simply sealed off the city from the surface, but there was little they could do for those who came now. There was only so much modern medicine could do for those who had already been exposed to fallout for months on end...

Of all the reports, only two caught Desmond’s attention.

One report documented in detail the unexpected mutations that were occurring among the animats. No one could figure out how there were so many natural pregnancies among them. Mutagens had been ruled out by scientists and the city’s AIs, and scientists were at a loss to explain it.

Not that many of the animats seemed to care. Most were overjoyed at being able to have children. 

Desmond smiled at the sight of the various, and often strange, amalgamated babies shown on the screen. They were the most adorable little ‘mutants’ he had ever seen! They were the only one’s he had ever seen, but that was beside the point!

The other report was darker, and hit closer to home than he liked.

“Armed far right militias are on the rise. There are now over four hundred different militias. They are gaining members online, and honing their skills in training camps. One of our reporters went inside one of these camps, to produce this report…”

A chill went down Desmond’s spine as he watched ‘citizen soldiers’ training in crudely constructed buildings.

“This is the ‘kill house’ – part of a training ground for a right wing militia in southern Lutetia… These men and women call themselves the ‘Southern Lutetia Security Force’. Their goal is to provide security for themselves, their family, and their communities ‘if and when the need arises’. And their leader, Chris Lascomm, thinks the need can come at any time. They are part of the ‘3 percent’ militia – they believe that only 3 percent of the male chimera and animate population fought the Architects in the Species War. Historians and Waffen-Volkssturm records suggest that the actual number was closer to 25 percent, not including women. They have a presence in nearly every Kreis. Their ideology is a mix of anit-government and anti-human conspiracy theories.”

Desmond shook his head watching them clear buildings and practice assaulting mock cities. Just like he had done in days gone by…

Someone in the crowd sneered at him.

“Can’t handle reality? Wake up, boy! The Volk are the new nobility, and the humans could start shit at any moment. We need more men like them! Go to a militia camp. You might learn something about our movement.”

Desmond turned to the older chimera. “Nah, I’m too Bohemian for that.”

The older chimers walked away muttering bitterly about ‘chimeras that can’t see past their snouts’ – or something along those lines. Desmond didn’t listen. He didn’t care. He had seen more of the far right during his time in the Fifth Commando, and then the Sword and Arm of the Lords, than most would see in a lifetime. He didn’t want to go through that hell again.

He would have stayed to see the rest of the report, but the lights had changed and he needed to meet with the rest of his troupe. The report had sullen his mood. It didn’t just remind him of things that he wished hadn’t happened, but things that he no longer had. 

‘…Johanna… oh, how I miss you’ he thought as he clutched the amulet she had given him. 

He knew it would only be a year before he could begin searching for her again… but would their absence make their heart grow fonder? Or would it make them seem strange to one another? He didn’t know. All he could do was concentrate on the here and now, and cross that bridge when he came to it.