John Ringo - There Will Be Dragons

“Is that what I think it is?” Harry asked.

“Would you prefer some boiling pitch?” Edmund asked. He pulled some clamps out of the bag and shut the wound, then began applying the suturing needle. “I mean, that would be really period. Nothing like a nice cauterization to start the day.”

“No,” Harry replied, gasping as Edmund tied off the first suture. “Stitching is just fine. Antique, but fine.”

“Hell of a lot of damage to the quad, here, buddy,” Edmund said, putting in another stitch. “Sorry about that.”

“No way you could have known,” Harry said with another gasp.

“Tying them off is the hardest part,” Edmund commented. “We’re going to be calling you Gimpy for a while.”

“Edmund, can I ask a question?” Harry said, as the third suture went in.

“Sure.”

“ Why do you have an old-fashioned medical kit?”

Edmund hesitated for a moment then tightened the last suture. “In case I’m someplace the nannites don’t do all the repairs.”

“But the only place like that is…”

“Edmund Talbot?”

Edmund spun in place on the floor and pointed the sword he hadn’t even realized he’d carried in at the apparition, which turned out to be an avatar of Sheida Ghorbani.

“Edmund, Paul attempted his coup,” the avatar said. “I need every person who has any training in… well in war, here with me. He has already attacked power plants and I need them secured. I can port you now.”

“No,” Edmund replied, lifting Harry to a sitting position.

“Edmund, I know you would not side with Paul. He represents…”

“I know what he represents,” Edmund replied. “I’m not siding with Paul. But I’m also not leaving here. Make sure that you tell Sheida that and that she’s thinking tactically instead of strategically. Tell her that.”

“She wishes you to become a Council member,” the avatar said.

“What does that mean?” Edmund asked.

“They seized two Keys in the fight in the Council Chamber. She wishes you to vote one.”

“Holy shit,” Harry whistled. “Council member.”

“No,” Edmund said after a moment’s thought. “Tell her that this is my place. We have to rebuild before we can do anything. She needs me here. Tell her, strategic not tactical.”

“I shall,” the avatar said, winking out.

“What in the hell did that mean?” Harry asked, leaning into the older fighter. “Bloody hell that hurts.”

“Well, let’s go get you some anesthetic,” Edmund said. “Fortunately, I just put up some corn liquor; it should be about mellowed out.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They limped into the house and into the kitchen, where Edmund dumped Harry in one of the chairs and began opening cabinets.

“The first thing you need is a fluid replenisher,” Edmund said, sliding a bottle across the table. “Then, the moonshine.”

“This is just great,” Harry said, taking a deep chug of the blue liquid. “Everything’s gone ?”

“It sounds like it,” Edmund said.

“I can’t go home,” Harry said, taking another drink.

“Not unless you can walk to London. Robert has been building period ships, not Middle Ages period but sloops and barkentines, that sort of thing. He might be able to get you home.”

“Daneh? Rachel?”

“No communications,” Edmund replied, taking a sip of the moonshine. “No way to know. I suppose if I’d taken Sheida up on her offer…”

“That’s…”

“It’s happening all over the world, everywhere,” Edmund said, coldly. “Not just my family. Everyone’s family. Think about how bad it must be out there. We’re in a room that is designed to survive without power. Think about Fukyama in his damned floating castle!”

“Ouch, good point. And you’re staying here?”

“First of all, can you imagine anywhere better to be?” Edmund asked, waving around at the fixtures. The hams hanging from the rafters, the garlands of onions. “Where should I go?”

“The south road to find Daneh and Rachel?” Harry suggested.

“Perhaps,” he sighed. “But… people know where this place is . Do you know how rare that is; that someone can find a location on a map? People will come here. The term’s so old it’s like ‘slave’ and ‘villeigne’ but we’ll get ‘refugees’ coming here, on the roads that remain.”

“ ‘All roads lead to Faire,’ ” Harry said.

“Damned near all that are left. So, do you want to leave Myron in charge? Or Tarmac ?”

“No,” Harry said.

“That’s what I meant by Sheida thinking tactically. Unless one side wins right away, this… this war, speaking of another old term, is going to drag on. And if it does, somebody has to be down on the ground, picking up the pieces. I think my place is there, not standing guard over some damned fusion plant.”

“And if Paul wins?”

“In that case, my place is vengeance.”

“I suppose I deserved it,” Rachel sighed and moved her wyvern.

The three-dimensional chessboard was a large hologram of ascending platforms. Different pieces could move in different ways and all pieces were not equal. Stronger pieces, by and large, could move only horizontally, crossing to higher or lower grids at specific points. Flying pieces, though, like the ascending levels of dragons, could move up or down however many places were available by their movement. However, they could not destroy all “land” pieces. This time, however, her wyvern had stooped upon one of Marguerite’s pawns that was in a strategic spot, and a wyvern could kill a pawn. There was a brief flurry of battle and then the pawn fell in battle and reappeared on Rachel’s side of the board.

“That’s stupid,” Marguerite replied, reaching out one ephemeral hand and directing her mother dragon in counter. “You’re practically a grown up! You should be able to control your own body. Body control is where all control starts . If you don’t have control over your own body you don’t have anything. Look at me.”

“But your parents approved changing you into nannites. Mom doesn’t approve of any modification. I mean, she’s really into ‘natural’ you know?” Rachel’s castle moved up a space, leaving it a straight shot to put Marguerite’s fortress in check. The pawn had been in the way before.

“What an old fogie,” Marguerite said, looking at the board. “I think I’m going to have to start using a program to play you. You’re getting ready to beat me again.”

“I’m sorry, Marguerite,” Rachel said. “But, well, you’re so much better at physical stuff than I am it’s only fair that I be better at chess.”

“I suppose,” the nannite girl sighed. “Frankly… this being nannites isn’t all its cracked up to be. I mean… there’s a lot different you know? Can’t go some of the places I used to be able to. Not really… feeling the same. The emotions just feel… unnatural, you know?”

“Well, no I don’t,” Rachel said looking up at her friend. “But…”

“Rach…” Marguerite said, her face tightening. “Rach… some-thing’s happening…” Marguerite reached out her hand to her friend as it started to fade. “Rach… help… me… please…”

Rachel reached for her friend’s hand as Marguerite faded, wondering what could have gone wrong. But before she could get across the oversized board Marguerite had faded fully. In a moment all that was left was a mound of bluish dust.

“Marguerite! Marguerite?! MOM!”

Donna Forsceen found herself going nearly forty kilometers per hour in a flat dive through the air as the power-ski under her failed. Not expecting to actually hit the water, she was knocked half unconscious by the impact. On flailing back to the surface she looked around at the vast expanse of water and screamed.