Armageddon

Chapter Thirty Seven

Tartarus, outer borders of Hell

Count Belial had long since stopped watching the bleak landscape roll past below. He had been flying for two days straight and even his inhuman endurance could not prevent the ride becoming extremely uncomfortable. The wyverns flew faster than any demon, while his own prized flock flew faster than anything the demons had ever encountered, thanks to Euryale's breeding program. Unfortunately it was also fast enough to transform the normally soft and welcoming clouds of ash into a blast that stung Belial's eyes and scoured his skin. The remoteness of his domain made the wyverns a necessity if he was to maintain any real presence at Satan's court, but Belial had also found them useful as a mercenary force. After millennia of facing virtually helpless lower-plane species, few demon lords bothered to maintain the kind of aerial combat forces seen in the Great Celestial War. They mostly depended on the harpies who, one on one, were no match for a Wyvern and its rider. The timely arrival of a few of his superior wyverns at a flier skirmish usually won him considerable favor with the victorious duke.

Whatever the merits of wyverns, right now Belial wanted nothing more than for this flight to end. From the moment he had left Satan's throne room, his mind had been churning on the details of the plan. The attack had to be spectacular, of that there was no doubt, but this time spectacle was not enough. Destroying a couple of human settlements would get him temporary adulation, but when the main attack began the glory-hungry dukes would soon see fit to consign his actions to historical trivia. They would say that his attacks merely kept the court entertained while the real forces were mustered. To gain real status he had to play a major and unquestionable role in the demon victory. His first thought was to burn the human capitals, but it was no use – the humans seemed to be divided into thousands of city states that had temporarily united into a planet-wide crusade against the demons. Destroying a mere pair of them would undoubtedly terrorize the local population but likely have little effect on the forces the humans could field. In fact, if their political leadership was anything like Satan, destroying it may actually give an advantage to the human armies. Belial laughed grimly at the joke he would never dare make to anybody.

Half a day into the flight, a revelation came to him, and with it the solution to his dilemma. Belial had been trying to comprehend why the humans fought so well now when they had never done so before. The reports of the few battered survivors had stressed the killing power of the human magic, but when pressed they had admitted that had never seen human mages conjuring the magic unassisted. What they had seen were and endless array of strange metal items; boxes that spat killing flame, spears that threw metal pebbles, sky chariots that loosed the deadly fire arrows and of course the iron chariots of legend. The humans had never shown any magical ability when the demons had visited before.

To Belial, it was obvious. The foundation of his painstakingly rebuilt power base was the superior weapons his forges produced. The difference between a typical bronze trident and a Tartaruan one was relatively slight. The painstakingly crafted copper laminations increased its power by around one and a half-fold, almost two-fold in the jeweled silver versions he made for the nobility. The secret tempering process produced prongs that bit deeper and snapped off with noticeably lower frequency than a common cast trident. The difference was not overwhelming, but it significantly tilted the odds in the small skirmishes that had been typical of Celestial warfare since the end of the Great War.

Even still the difference between an armed demon and an unarmed demon was not great. The tridents permitted the lesser demons to fling lightning, but it took many blasts to fell one demon and against celestials served only to thin out a charge before contact. The real fighting was done in close quarters. While tridents and swords had useful reach they often broke and did no more damage than tooth and claw. Belial saw that because the humans were so weak, they had been forced to invest tremendous effort into creating powerful weapons, weapons that could multiply their strength until it was sufficient to challenge a demon. In a flash, Belial saw the humans' scheme. When they had first seen the demons five millennia ago, they must have realized that weapons of unprecedented enchantment were the only thing that could offer them a hope of resisting the armies of hell. They had probably been refining their lore and stockpiling them in secret all this time, revealing their new magics only when threatened with outright extinction. Belial had not thought the short-lived humans capable of such patience and planning. Regardless, now that he understood where their strength came from, he could destroy it.

Belial felt the wyvern's weight shift beneath him and the pounding of its wing beats slowed slightly. Immediately he connected with its mind, ready to punish the creature for its laziness. Instead he was relieved to find that the beast had sighted its roost and had begun a slow descent towards the palace. Belial raised his head into the slipstream, opening his eyes and blinking back the grains of pumice that battered against his face. The dusty red foothills of the Tartaruan range were dimly visible beneath them, dotted with flickering fires and columns of smoke rising from the forges. His capital sat in a deep depression between the upper foothills, now almost perpetually shrouded by smog. The palace itself had originally been a prison, carved laboriously from adamantine to house the most dangerous angelic prisoners of war. Many millennia ago Satan had found it most amusing to exile him to an abandoned ruin in a worthless backwater, but Belial had gradually transformed it into a great arsenal and an almost impregnable fortress.

The wyvern dropped into a glide, shedding speed fast as it circled over the dwellings of Belial's subjects. The great guardian-beast at the main gates spotted its master returning and loosed an ear-splitting discordant screech from its thirteen throats. The scurrying figures below had long since stopped being startled by the noise, but they did pause and look up, before falling to their knees in deference to their master. His steed began its final swoop down onto the basalt flagstones of the outer courtyard. Belial saw that Euryale was already waiting for him on the terrace, accompanied by assorted servants. As he drew up she was stared disapprovingly at his mount, clearly angry that he had pushed one of her prized specimens so hard.

"My Lord." Euryale's snake-like 'hair' writhed and glared at him, but her tone was flatly deferential.

She gestured to a pair of servants. "You two, take this beast to the roosts immediately. Feed him chopped flesh, not live and not too quick. Don't let him bloat himself. If he sickens I will hold you responsible."

The self-proclaimed gorgon queen turned back to Belial, who had begun striding up the steps towards the palace. She hurried to keep up. "So what news from Mekratrig's court? What great deeds have you accomplished while I mind your palace for you." Her tone carried bitterness rather than resentment; gorgons in general and Euryale in particular were not welcome in Dis. She too had been an outcast and she had even further to go before returning to favor.

"Not here." Belial paused to address the servants. "I want every baron, every captain and every senior overseer in my throne room in four hours time. Send the fastest fliers. Stop groveling and move!" The lesser demons took off, some literally while the flightless ran for the barracks, leaving count and consort to enter the palace and make their way to Belial's study.

No sooner had the bronze doors clanged shut than Euryale spat "So let me guess, Satan exiled you again and now we must prepared to be invaded by half the neighboring dukes."

"Silence wench!". Belial had seemed distracted, but now he fixed her with a gaze so terrible she immediately regretted her taunt. For a moment she thought he was going to strike her, but when he spoke again it was not with a roar but with pride tinged by glee. "Abigor has been proven a fool and a traitor. He allowed most of his forces to be slaughtered by the humans and then joined their side." The news had stunned every demon to hear of it and Euryale was no exception.

"Our lord Satan has chosen me to strike the next blow against the humans. My plan will deliver a decisive blow and stand in sharp contrast to Abigor's failure. They must have places like Tartarus, hidden places where they produce and stockpile their enchanted weapons. We will find these places and we will destroy them they way we destroyed the last two human cities. With most of their weapons gone and no way to make more, the human armies will falter and be swept away."

Belial's plan seemed mad to Euryale at first, but within seconds she began to see the logic. It was not the way wars had been fought; destroying crops and food stores was standard practice, but disarming the enemy had never been considered a viable or useful tactic. Yet the human magics were unprecedented and the humans were so very reliant on them. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Headquarters, Randi Institute of Pneumatology, The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

“May I speak with you, Excellency?”

James Randi looked up at the figure that had just entered his office. He felt the start of a surge of affection and crushed it down ruthlessly. Damn, these succubi are dangerous ran through his mind. Even aware of their ability to induce empathy with anybody within smelling distance, the pheromones worked. “I’m not an Excellency or even a Sire. And calling me that doesn’t get you any favorable consideration, quite the reverse in fact. But if you want to call me James, or The Amazing Randi, then we can talk.”

Lugasharmanaska noted the abruptness and guessed it was the man over-compensating for the effects of her miasma. It was a pity the humans had found out about that. “James, I know we have the ability to talk to demons in hell now. Using your machines.”

“We can. One on one. Julie’s making Domiklespharatu a whimpering nervous wreck. It doesn’t get us very far but it’s giving her a bit of revenge for the torment he put her through. So?”

“My Liege-Lady is Deumos, the Princess of all the Incubi and Succubi in Hell. There are thousands of us you know. I would like to speak to her using your machines.”

The reply was so blunt it had to be honest. No wheedling or trickery, just a blunt request. Randi was amazed and suspicious. “And just why should we do that.”

“My mission was to seduce one or more leading politicians, bend them to my will and then learn from them as much about you humans as I could. I failed, the politicians who were leading in Bangkok resisted me. That failure could earn me my death. But I need to report to Deumos my findings.”

“Why, if you’ll be killed.” Randi thought for a moment. “Could she kill you here, by remote control so to speak?”

“No, but that does not matter now.” Lugasharmanaska gave what was her equivalent of a smile. “Anyway I have not failed any more have I? I am here with you now and this building is indeed a palace of power. I did not get here the way intended but I am here. And I ought to report my findings to Deumos.”

“And what findings might those be?” Randi was interested in how this conversation was going. He had the impression Lugasharmanaska was being honest for the first time since she had arrived here.

“I will tell her that you humans are going to win this war. That short of some incredible stupidity on your part, and you are not a stupid people, you can hardly help but win. Already she must know about the raid yesterday, it will do no harm to tell her it will be the first of many, each more destructive than the last. I will persuade her that her only chance of survival will be to join the human side, to stand with humans against Satan. She may stand with him and die for a certainty, or stand with humans and have a chance of survival. And she will believe me for I will be telling her the truth.”

“That never got anybody believed. I was telling people the truth about cheap tricksters like that Israeli idiot and malicious frauds who pretended to be mediums for decades and nobody believed me. Lugasharmanaska, let me take this to the powers that be. We’ll see what they say.”

It hadn’t actually taken much persuading. The chance of turning a demon lord was too good to pass up. Anyway, measuring the signals generated as Lugasharmanaska talked to Deumos would provide a whole world of valuable data. So, four hours later, the succubus was relaxing on a couch while the technicians worked on the wiring connecting her to the signals amplification system. A group of four Marines were in the room as well, their orders simple, if the Succubus tried anything, kill her. However, there was something else as well. Randi had given their leader a letter Lugasharmanaska had written, one that had made his eyebrows rise.

“OK, Luga. Off you go, try and get through.”

Lugasharmanaska screwed up her eyes and concentrated her very hardest. As the signal started to be generated, the electrical sensors around her head picked it up and started boosting it, driving it against the indefinable, unknown barrier that separated the dimensions. She grimaced slightly, she guessed the humans weren’t trying to hurt her but the boosted signal was having the same effect on her mind as over-loud music had on human ears. Then, there was a snapping sensation. She was through.

“Your Royal Highness. It is Lugasharmanaska. I have much to report.”

“You have been gone for a long time kidling. We thought you were dead.”

“I was recognized and captured. I failed in my mission.”

“Then it would have been better for you if you had been dead.” The mock-affection had gone from Deumos’s mind voice.

“Highness. I failed in my mission, but I have also succeeded. I am in the human’s power palace now, speaking to you from there. I have become part of that power structure, a lowly part but still high enough to learn things you must know. Please, I beg of you, hear me.”

“Speak then kidling. Perhaps your words may earn forgiveness.”

“Highness. I have learned this and it is truth. The humans will not lose this war. They will win and Satan’s empire will come crashing down upon him. They have killing arts beyond our imagination and the ability to use them. They have not shown us a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of what they can do. Did you hear of the attack yesterday when the humans sent their tanks and mickvees into Hell itself? When they destroyed whatever they could find, killed all and destroyed all.”

“I had heard this. None here could understand it. They did not kill quite all, some wounded were pulled from the ruins. Why did they not hold what they took for ransom?”

“Highness. Humans called this a Thunder Run. It is to demonstrate they can go where they wish, when they wish and you can do nothing to stop them. They do not wish for plunder, just to kill. We have nothing that they want except for our utter destruction. They see us as their, I think the phrase is, mortal enemies. The raid yesterday was the first of many, each more destructive and devastating that the last. Nothing Hell has can stand against them, Heaven itself cannot stand against them. You have two choices Highness. You may stand with Satan and be destroyed with him for a certainty or you may stand with us and have a chance of survival.” Lugasharmanaska’s mind voice was desperate, she had to convince Deumos of the catastrophe that faced her.

“Us, kidling?”

Lugasharmanaska took a brief gasp of air and then concentrated again. “Yes, Highness. Us. I have joined the humans and cast my lot with them. I may not survive to see their victory but it is better to have a chance of living to see victory that a certainty of seeing defeat. Highness, by every standard of loyalty I owe you, I beg you to do the same.”

“And why should I believe you?” Deumos’s mind voice was cold.

“For this reason.” Lugasharmanaska waved her hand and the technician started upping the power in the transmission. The pain in her head was dreadful, it seemed to fill her whole body. She had thought kitten had been weak and foolish when she had writhed in pain during this transmission but now, for the first time, she understood what the young Goth girl had suffered every time she made a bridge.

Sleeping Chamber, Palace of Deumos, Hell.

For a moment, Deumos did not recognize the black ellipse that was forming in her bed-chamber. By the time she did, four humans had stepped through it. Their leader, his features strangely obscured by a mask that covered his nose and mouth looked at the great figure that was sprawled on the couch, and lifted a tube to his shoulder.

“Whosh, blam, thank you Ma’am. You’re dead.”

Then they stepped back through the ellipse letting it collapse behind them. The whole attack had taken less that five seconds and Deumos had never had a chance to react.

“Highness, they could have killed you if they had wanted to. They can kill you any time they want to. They can kill anybody any time they want to.” Lugasharmanaska’s mind-voice was very weak and shaky. “To join them is your only chance.”

“Very well kidling. I will think on this. You have done well to tell me of these things.” Deumos leaned back on her couch, her mind just beginning to absorb how easily she could have been killed. And Satan was lying, hiding just how powerful humans were. She had a lot to think about.

Headquarters, Randi Institute of Pneumatology, The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

Lugasharmanaska was gray, her normal shiny black skin, dull and faded. That alone told anybody watching what she had gone through. Her mind was weak but still calculating, assessing the result of this, the greatest gamble she had ever made. As soon as she had heard Abigor and a Herald had defected, she knew that her usefulness was diminished to almost nothing. She had to find a new role for herself if she was to continue in her privileged position. This was her throw, her attempt to do so.

“Did it work?” Randi was speaking.

“Sure did. Never seen anybody so stunned. We could have put the AT-4 into her and there was nothing she could have done to stop us. Perhaps we should have done.” The Marine Lieutenant sounded quite regretful.

“Perhaps. Luga, your side of this. Did it work?”

“Perhaps.” She had thought to exaggerate the effects of her message but she decided not to. Only the truth would serve her now. “Deumos will think on what I said and the demonstration. I would not expect her to do more. Once we make a few more demonstrations of power, then she will join. But she will join I think.