Mike Wild - Engines of the Apocalypse

"Hey, now, wait," Kali protested, struggling in their grip. Her instinct was to nut one and knee the other but the sound of sharp metals being unsheathed halted her action before it began.

Gabriella DeZantez stood in the doorway, head slightly bowed but gaze fixed on her, twin blades ready for use in her hands. Kali paused, she could see how perfectly posed for combat the woman was, how honed her muscles were, and, quick as she knew herself to be, realised that to challenge her would be folly. What affected her more than anything, though, was again the appearance of her cat-like eyes. They had an arresting presence about them — a genuine presence, that was, not the kind affected by fatso — that made her feel that, if she could appeal to anyone here, it would be her.

"What's happening?" She asked her, swallowing slightly.

DeZantez didn't answer, merely continued to stare, jaw muscle twitching. Randus McCain loomed behind her.

"You are charged with the manipulation of forbidden artefacts," he said. "You are to answer for your crimes."

Forbidden artefacts? Kali thought. McCain could only be referring to the machines. So the Faith were taking it upon themselves to police Old Race finds now? They really were arrogant bastards.

"Look, I keep trying to tell you — " she tried once more, but the Overseer merely nodded to his guards and she found herself being dragged from the storeroom.

Gabriella DeZantez stood aside as she passed but Kali sensed her immediately swing back into position behind her. Herded as she now was there was little chance of escape. Just one of DeZantez's blades could sever her spine before she managed a step.

It wasn't just the presence of the woman she sensed, though. There was more than a whiff of resentment coming from her, too. Resentment directed not at her but McCain. That was interesting and something she might be able to use when she found out what was going on. For the time being Kali allowed herself to be marched towards the church, noticing two things. The first was the fact that DeZantez faltered slightly as they came within view of the graveyard, as if someone close to her had suffered the upheavals there. The second was that Horse was chained beyond the well, guarded by more goons who had presumably escorted McCain into town. The bamfcat registered her predicament as she drew closer and began to snort and pull against his chains. Kali knew he could snap them in an instant but stared into his flaring green eyes and shook her head. Horse calmed.

Prisoner and escorts reached the church and paused. McCain turned to DeZantez.

"Wait outside," the Overseer ordered. "Ensure we are not interrupted."

DeZantez protested. "I am the Enlightened One of Solnos. My place is inside the church, where I should witness these proceedings."

"I have given you an Overseer command, Sister of the Swords of Dawn. Need I remind you that yours is a temporary position and that our office holds jurisdiction over your own."

DeZantez's face darkened, her hands tightening on the hilts of her blades. "Need I remind you that your office did not, until recently, even exist. This town has been my responsibility for months and I have lost many of my people today."

Kali noticed McCain's goons go for their own weapons but the Overseer shook his head. "Very well. But you are to take no part in these proceedings, do you understand?"

DeZantez glared but nodded briskly. Kali could hardly blame her for her attitude. If she'd just had her authority stamped on like that, she'd be pitsed off too. The irony was, DeZantez could have whittled both goons down to a knucklebone in a second but, as a Sword of Dawn, the Faith's chains of command were sacred to her, whoever rattled them.

The interior of the church was pleasantly cool as Kali was ushered in. The wooden door was shut firmly behind her, DeZantez taking up position before it, and Kali looked around. Where she had expected some one-to-one questioning from McCain she found herself instead confronted by a number of townsfolk filing into pews as if to act as a jury. And when the Overseer stood in a shaft of light at a podium before which she, in turn, was forced to stand, she knew exactly that a jury was what they were going to be.

Hang on , she thought. Things were getting a little out of hand here. Moving a little too fast for her liking.

This was no questioning.

This was a trial.

"Kali Hooper, you stand accused — "

"What the hells is this?" Kali shouted over him. "I've done nothing to be tried for."

"Nothing?" McCain retorted. He pointed at the jury, raising his voice. "The loss of this community's loved ones at your hands is 'nothing'?"

Kali faltered. She was being charged with these people's deaths? Oh no, this was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She stared helplessly at the jury and then steadily at McCain.

"You're talking about the appearance of those machines. I had nothing to do with that. What happened was as much of a surprise to me as to you."

"A surprise?" McCain repeated. "A surprise ? You make it sound like those machines were nothing more than some cheap trick gone wrong!"

There was a mumbling in the jury, shaking of heads, and Kali swallowed. Scant few hours had passed since the disaster, and these people's horror and anger were still raw. Even though she knew she shouldn't have to, she sought another choice of words.

"A shock, then."

McCain let her response hang in the air a second. "A shock," he said, nodding to himself. "A shock. What are you girl, an adventurer? One of those tomb raiders who make their living scrabbling for shiny things in the dirt?" He paused and gripped the sides of the podium, rattling it until his jowls shook. "In doing what you do," he thundered, "how many other shocks have you caused by sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?"

The jury stirred angrily, and glared at Kali. She, in turn, glared at McCain. And he had the gall to accuse her of cheap tricks, the fat bastard. McCain didn't care about these people's feelings, wasn't interested in meting out justice for them. All he wanted to do was manipulate them, and her. The shaft of light, the shouting, the flair for the dramatic — McCain, wherever in the hells he'd sprung from, seemed to have his own little travelling roadshow, and the trouble with roadshows was that they always ran to a script. Just as well, then, that this hadn't been a 'one-to-one' discussion because she would have been wasting her time. If she was to avoid being rail-roaded into whatever outcome McCain had in mind, she'd need to appeal to the jury directly. And to DeZantez.

"You were there this morning," she said to the Enlightened One, and then turned to the jury, "some of you people too. You saw how I tried to help. Ask yourselves — would I have done that if I had caused the quake in the first place? Why would I have wanted to cause the quake? To hurt you? Again, why? It makes no sense."

Faces remained impassive.

"These… machines," Kali continued, "I want to know why they've destroyed your town as much as you do, but to find that out the first question you should be asking isn't who's responsible, but what in the hells are they?"

"Exactly that, tomb raider," McCain said from behind her. "Instruments from the very Pits of Kerberos. From the hells themselves. Instruments which you made rise from where you plotted beneath the ground."

Kali whirled to face the Overseer. Though his office might, as DeZantez had suggested, be new to the Faith, McCain himself clearly wasn't. His jowls and girth evidence of a number of comfortable years in its hierarchy. As such, he'd know very well that he was talking bollocks, that his so-called 'instruments from the pits' were Old Race technology, whatever their purpose might be. This wasn't something he'd necessarily care to share with the people of Solnos. After all, the Lord of All Himself might struggle to create such wonders and He couldn't be seen to be inferior in their eyes. But that didn't explain why McCain was pursuing her with such zeal. He might still think her guilty, yes, but why not deal with her quietly rather than persist with this whole charade?