(85): The Cunning Plan

(85): The Cunning Plan

Nestra spent the better part of the next few days hunting and gathering with Argent. The portal world didn’t have that much food, or rather, the lizards were overhunting it. Even mana fungi took time to regrow. The village’s surroundings were fully barren by now, and the small fields were not large enough to sustain their population. Apparently, irrigation was an issue they couldn’t solve here.

Nestra wasn’t complaining, however. The forays with Argent were pleasant enough. He was deeply interested in human culture, asking Nestra to play many of the videos she’d saved on her visor. Similarly, he wasn’t the best storyteller but he was more than happy to share more about Lizardman culture and habits for an interesting cultural exchange. She was making notes to share with Semerdjian later while they were sitting around a campfire. Typing with lizard fingers was frustrating but she couldn’t risk a distant lizard seeing her true self.

“We knew something was happening when the first hunters didn’t return from portals immediately,” Argent explained “Messengers soon came, speaking of… vessels of light in the portal worlds. I do not know how to explain it better. I was not born yet.”

“Our history speaks of roving bands of lizards moving fast. Powerful ones too, your, ah, fourth ascensions?”

“The Aaaa-class,” Argent hissed, drawing the ‘a’ with obvious enjoyment which Nestra found oddly familiar. “Yes. The strongest of us found they could enter the human side portal worlds, and there were other vessels bringing them back to our own”

“Huh. We didn’t find any.”

Argent licked the air, a sign he was considering something so Nestra gave him time, which also helped her add notes to her datapad.

“There are rumors of a race of giants that sometimes come down tall mountains to hunt the largest monsters. They might be strangers in this world. We only hear about them in distant tales about the deep cold. Not the one you saw on your contraption, the other one.”

Nestra wrote furiously. She knew what Argent was leading to. If this was true then… it would mean the lizards were themselves invaded but the other species had not taken control over the planet. It would suggest that incursions operated as a chain? A new species on a new planet was added, then another sphere was added to that one after the ambient magic had sufficiently increased, and then another. Crazy implications. Her conspiracy brain was buzzing with theories. And to think Sereth probably knew all of this but he’d been keeping secrets! But now she knew, and she could even be considered a secondary source in history books! Well, when the truth about the portal world came out anyway.

“You can call them bridge portals with me, human-born Aszhii sister.”

“Not good to break character.”

“And to answer, there is much of our world we dare not explore. There is only death there.”

She thought about her next question carefully.

“Do you know if you had magic before your own incursion?”

“Those who would remember tales of that time are dust now, sister, and their memories have faded with their last whispers. Alas.”

Writing systems for the win, is all Nestra could think.

“So our strongest warriors were the ones you know of because only they were fast enough to gather. Your world is as large as ours. The warriors who crossed over didn’t bring captives and the treasures they had were strange and useless. Even the food was rumored to be bad.”

Nestra nodded. It seemed she’d been mistaken when she had believed her probe was the most advanced piece of equipment ever to grace… but wait. The raiders must have brought 2020’s technologies at best. Positively ancient stuff. Centimeters-thick monitors. Smartphones! R̃АNȪВЕś

Now she could imagine a powerful A-class bringing back a torn off radiator and a crate of vinegar crisps from his dangerous foray. No wonder the lizards’ enthusiasm had cooled off.

“After the disappearance of the main party, my people simply neglected the light vessels. They were not worth it.”

“And you just… stopped coming, then?”

Argent did a noncommittal head bob.

“Some of the tribes found the bridge world, but it was a legend even for the Bleak Spears until the Carved Tusk crossed the marshland to offer us a treaty. Stories and ideas, they travel very fast for your kind. Not so for ours.”

Nestra hissed softly. Being a dick was free but imperialism required a more advanced form of civilization. Sophisticated, state-managed violence. The lizardmen lacked the vision to see an entire new planet and wonder how much of it they could exploit. It made it insanely lucky for mankind that it had been a stone age people invading, and not, say, Sereth’s people. Or those fuckers who had made Shinran’s training center. At least Sereth’s people would have been slowed down by Earth’s nuclear weapons.

Nestra brooded while the implication of a difficult first contact danced in her head. She had assumed the conversation was over for tonight, but Argent surprised her by talking again. He was definitely on the voluble side for a lizard.

“Our time together is almost over. I enjoyed it. We will not meet again for a long time?”

“I think so. I doubt I will return here any time soon.”

He bobbed his head, expecting her answer.

“Will we meet again at all?” he asked.

Nestra was fairly confident in her answer.

“I have come to believe that we may share the same Aszhii father. If that is the case, we can find each other again… after we depart our respective home worlds. When that happens, I will bring you to Earth so that we may visit it, if you still wish it.”

“Truly?”

“Our comfort will depend upon the manner of my departure, but yes.”

That got his attention.

“You… intend to reveal your own existence?”

Nestra bobbed her head in assent.

“My kind are social creatures, but we also evolve and learn very fast.”

“I noticed,” Argent ruefully remarked.

“Then you will understand that I hope to broker peace between us before conflict can happen. The way we reproduce is dishonest. It is also unneeded. I believe many humans would choose Aszhii partners willingly given the opportunity. There are many humans with strange tastes.”

Argent Ephis clearly didn’t believe her from the way he froze and tasted the air, but he didn’t voice it so Nestra didn’t press the issue.

“I will also change things,” he eventually said. “When I return, I will also advise my people to ally with you. I will attempt to convince them to change our ways. Slowly. For your standards.”

Nestra was happy. It looked like she’d managed to impress him!

“So you think we’re good potential partners?”

“No, but we have no choice. Talking to you has convinced me that we cannot possibly win against you, so peace is the only option.”

Nestra gave a slight glare but it slid off Argent’s placid composure.

“The fire and steel didn’t persuade you but I did?”

She’d expected a rebuttal but Argent actually bobbed a yes. She was taken aback.

“It is not that you grow fast, or that you learn fast, or that you are more social. It is that you believe. You, Nezhra, believe that you will save your host kin because it is honorable. You believe our true kin and the humans will cooperate if you make it happen. You believe very powerfully in a great many things. It shapes what you do. It makes you move, you and the others. Those beliefs… they scare me. It doesn’t matter what they are. They spread among you and make you do things together with a fury I cannot understand. Now there are hundreds of warriors blocking your Gate of Illusions and they are fed without having to hunt themselves because you believed it was important to have a base there. This is insanity.”

His shoulders drooped. He almost seemed sad.

“I will help you, then we will leave. I have thought this through. I will tell Death Bloom that I seek to return to our land for the birth. I was only staying thinking we could meet again anyway, Nezhra. Once I have given this excuse, I will lead the last few members of the Bleak Spear through before the attack.”

He seemed very pleased with himself.

“A cunning plan,” Nestra allowed.

For a four years old.

“You inspired my actions. Can I… ask for something? Something human made?” Argent suddenly asked.

“You say you will help me then ask for a gift? You lied to me, Argent. You are devious.”

Shame turned him aside but Nestra laughed, dispelling the moment.

“Of course. Ask me.”

“I want… a backpack. To carry cooking utensils and other things. Like a flask for water”

Nestra laughed, and then she granted him his wish.

***

Nestra followed the road back towards the human world for a good three kilometers or so before she found the large skeleton the message had referred to. Thankfully, Argent was more familiar with the local landmark so he had helped her. For this reason, she remained polite when he tried to stealthily follow her and she turned back to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that if the infiltration team didn’t kill him then she would. Specter wouldn’t joke around. Even Argent’s main body might be at risk against what amounted to an entire guild of assassins.

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The area around the skeleton was a deserted valley surrounded by short rocky hills. The carcass was old, older than the one she’d come across on her way to the village. Even the most persistent insects had decided there was nothing left to eat. The grass grew high around the tall bipedal skeleton splayed on its back, ribcage and skull shattered by tremendous blows. The boulders and stones still carried the scars of what must have been an epic battle.

She looked around in her true form, not feeling anything. A quick check of her communicator revealed the following message.

“We see you. Please wait while we check for pursuit.”

They let her sit on her ass for a solid ten minutes, those assholes. She was absolutely sure it was intentional because try as she might, she couldn’t find the Specter guild members. It was infuriating. Eventually, a voice emerged from a tiny elevation near the foot of the dead monster.

“Crescent! Over here!”

Nestra made her way to a small opening in the ground. With one last look behind her, she slipped through, and into an extensive cavern lit by electric lights.

It was the sort of artificial cavity made of packed soil that would have collapsed on itself without a generous application of earth mana. As she entered, three members of Specter used spells and tools to transfer large piles of loose dirt from one end of the cavern to the other — away from the village. Tristan sat in the center over a disturbing spell circle that made Nestra want to look away, protected by another two members while Miho barred Nestra’s way, one hand grabbing a handgun and the other a fencing foil so thin and sharp it didn’t pass the ‘sword’ exam in Nestra’s immensely judgmental mind. This was clearly some sort of ad hoc assassination tool because you couldn’t fight a duel with this fucking toothpick. She sneered.

“I apologize for the precaution, Crescent. Welcome to our temporary base.”

There were crates of supplies stacked in one corner, clearly enough to last for months if rationed. Someone had discarded the sensor thing on the ground since Nestra had already completed that objective.

She centered her attention back on Tristan. The strange B-class gave her a thin smile, and she found herself distracted enough but then something in her Aszhii brain kicked in, making her narrow her eyes. That seemed to surprise the man enough that his crooked lips turned from mockery to surprise.

“A mental effect,” Nestra decided. “You are digging your way to the village and using a mental effect to dispel whatever attention a subtle change in the topography might gather. That was how you were planning on getting to the portal. How about the last few steps? A portal doesn’t extend below ground.”

Tristan replied, voice ever aloof.

“The Bridge World Portal does, if barely. Because it’s circular but low enough that a dozen people can move in shoulder to shoulder. The return trip would have been riskier, but then again, I’m a shadow infiltrator.”

Nestra had to admit that it would have likely worked, especially with the lack of security on the lizard side.

“But that leaves us with a conundrum,” Tristan continued, voice just as smooth yet now carrying a hint of threat. Nestra had been wrong. He was not like Bard. The traitor had been a wanker through and through. Tristan only pretended to be aloof.

“You, Crescent, were supposed to wait until we were all in position and then use the distraction to infiltrate. Instead, you decided to go by yourself, early, and from your speed I can only assume that you conducted cursory recon before committing. Remember what I told you in the briefing room?”

Nestra gave it a second of consideration. Her brain decided that it was a good idea to wonder if Specter had spare MREs because she was hungry. That probably meant that what Tristan had said hadn’t been important.

“You were complaining, I think?”

His eyes flared with anger.

“I accused you of being a risk taker, a firebrand, and look! You elected not to follow the plan.”

“I saw an opportunity and I took it. And it worked!”

“Oh yeah yeah, you won’t be disciplined,” Tristan said.

Miho positioned herself to support her associate. It was subtle, but she wasn’t amused by Nestra either.

“Because Threshold rewards results above all. That is what our leaders mostly care about. The problem with people like you, the overachievers with no self-preservation, is that you keep betting and winning until you don’t. We know of you, Hound of Ragnarok. Always solo, always performing. Confident. Until one day? One day you’re going to bite something you can’t kill.”

Nestra wanted to argue but that fucker was hitting close to home and she wasn’t trusting herself with a reaction.

“And the problem is that if that folly happens to be your next operation, we’ll be collateral damage to your hubris. Because you cannot stick to the plan to minimize risk. Because you ‘saw an opportunity and took it’ even though you had no reason to hurry it up. You could have waited for extra safety, but no. So give me one good reason why we shouldn’t bail, because we’ve already been paid the base sum for mission completion, if not the first arrival bonus, and I’m not a big fan of sunk cost fallacies. If we don’t like what we hear, we are out.”

The other Specters had stopped working by now. Nestra was facing a wall of shadow mana that reminded her of a desperate fight against Miss Teneru. There was something quiet and hypnotic about shadow users when they allowed themselves to be seen that even a void beast like Nestra had to be wary of. When outnumbered and outgunned, in any case.

“You should hear my plan first,” Nestra suggested.

“What use is a plan to someone who has shown utter disregard for them?” Tristan challenged, voice still low and controlled.

“It is my plan, based on my capabilities which you do not know about,” Nestra replied. “When I say I saw an opportunity, it was safer than what you were going to attempt.”

“What powers allow that?”

Nestra didn’t reply because this was, again, a faux-pas. She could tolerate annoyance but not outright disrespect.

“If you want us to work together, you will need to convince us.”

Nestra breathed in and out to manage the surging tide of anger rising in her chest. They had no right.

“You will hear the plan, because there are twenty-ssseeven Thresholders held in cages near the bridge gate, and those twenty-seven people might get killed during the battle, or they might get executed by the guards, or they might be dragged through the portal, never to be seen again because we will have missssed the opportunity to free them. And before you assssk me, no I have no certainty, but I know this. The lizardssss might be slow, but they’re not stupid.”

She crossed her arms. The humans had backed off a bit.

Even Tristan was reconsidering his earlier aggression from the way he stood on guard after her display. He was B-class but she had no idea how strong he was, only that she’d killed a B-class before. She wasn’t afraid.

Miho shifted.

“Point that thing at me and I’ll sssshove it up your ass. As I said, you can hear the plan… or you can leave. If you think I am here to discuss and negotiate your sssupport then you don’t know who I am. If you want a pep talk contact Shinran. I’m here to get ssstuff done. So. What will it be?”

Nestra was ready to walk then and there. It would mean dead hostages for sure but some people saved were better than no people saved. A tiny voice in her mind questioned why she would have to do it herself. Surely Threshold had more qualified people for extraction and rescue? But obviously, if the city had them, then they couldn’t be safely deployed close enough to act in time anyway. Maybe they couldn’t hide their approach. It meant it was up to her, and her alone. Again.

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, the Specters turned to their two leaders, Miho the straight arrow and Tristan the lynchpin. They exchanged a glance Nestra couldn’t read nor did she bother to try. At this stage, she didn’t care anymore.

“Alright,” Tristan finally allowed. “Let’s hear it, at least.”

Just as she thought.

Nestra kneeled on the ground. She drew a very basic map of the village, getting a few smirks from the others because she was using stone age technology. It took her a minute, and when she was done, the Specters had gone from amused to thoughtful. Nestra’s mapping had been quite thorough.

“The attacking tribes’ huts are on the north side of the village,” she began, using portal conventions for directions. “Shinran and Ragnarok will engage and destroy the dwellings as they fight the resident A-class. After the battle has begun and before the guards come to a decision, we will add a second distraction.”

“What second distraction?” Miho asked, now invested.

Nestra smiled. She removed one of the goodies she’d brought from a pouch at her back.

“Is that…” Miho wondered.

“Thermite charges, Threshold-made. Stupid easy to use. Enough to get a party started.. And another thing.”

It was risky but necessary, in Nestra’s opinion.

“I’ve turned assets, in a way. I have allies in the village.”

“You want me to believe you completed the mission in three days, then located prisoners and recruited agents?” Tristan asked and this time, he sounded impressed.

“Technically I located the prisoners first. I also mapped out the village. Moving on I expect the distraction to attract a few of the B-class guards but not all. We will need to fight our way through at least one B-class and possibly more warriors in order to get the prisoners out.”

“The problem I see,” Miho said, “Is that many warriors ought to defend the portal, where the prisoners are. We cannot possibly face a village’s worth of experienced C and B-class hunters and stand a chance to survive.”

“Hence the distraction,” Nestra replied. “By starting fires at the edge of the village, we will draw the warriors there while we escape. The lizardman code of honor compels them to sally out to protect their civilians. We can use this against them, but we should also be careful. Wholesale slaughter will only lead to retribution.”

“They’re just lizards,” one of the raiders scoffed.

And Nestra would have agreed, and she knew someone like Mazingwe, who had lost everything, would support a purge, but…

“It will help everyone if we give them more people to protect and so they have fewer reasons to pursue. Yes?”

“It is a sound decision,” Miho replied with conviction.

To Nestra’s surprise, Tristan nodded.

“Right. How many B-class guards will there be?”

“Three. They rotate, with more staying on the lizard side of the portal.”

“How are the prisoners held?”

“In flimsy cages. They could break them at any time but then the B-class would slaughter them, not to mention they’re unarmed and weakened.”

“We could give them extra weapons,” one of the Specters suggested.

“No,” Nestra replied, shutting that idea down immediately. “You do not give the traumatized, wounded, and confused raiders weapons. You bring them to safety where they can get the care they urgently need.”

The man nodded to express he agreed. Nestra turned her attention back to the mumbling crowd of Specter operatives discussing entry points and ‘where and when to breach’ by which she assumed they meant open the cave.

“Can you use the moving cave to protect the prisoners?” she asked.

“No,” Tristan replied. “It works because people don’t think it can exist. Anyone with a modicum of earth mana who sees two dozen prisoners sucked into the ground will immediately know what’s going on, and then we’re in a fragile pocket of loose soil surrounded by angry lizards. Once we go, we go.”

“Alright,” Nestra said, then she hung back and shut up.

It looked like Specter was joining the party after all.

***

Night had long since fallen over the portal village. The last cooking fires had long since died. Only dim lights emerged from tiny windows, adding long shadows to the darkness. It was just as calm and quiet as any previous evening had been, but Forked Tail didn’t believe that for a second. She could feel it in her old bones that something was wrong. This feeling had once saved her from a long claw, a mighty beast that liked to sneak up on villages to drag away screaming victims. It had also warned her that her daughter would die giving birth if they didn’t call the healer immediately. It had never failed her. Never.

“Wake the children,” she hissed at her clansmen and women. “Gather the skins and the pots. Quickly.”

“Grandmother,” one of the hunters protested, still tired from today’s foray.

“Now.”

She was not a chief because a chief ought to fight, and also because it was a bother and everyone listened to her anyway. Like now. They hurried to obey her. She lowered herself on creaking knees to pick up a toy, and her side bag. Her tribespeople were almost ready when it happened, barely a minute later.

The sky turned lighter in a quiet flash, not like a dawn over the desert, but like blood bubbling under a dark beast’s skin. The clouds roiled, backlit by that sinister radiance. She turned away from the window to see the oldest hunter grip his spear tightly.

“It’s Him,” she whispered.

No time to lose. One of her nieces reached for the door. The young thing hesitated.

“Go to the portal,” Forked Tail confirmed, and before the predictable could happen, she screeched the next few words.

“In good order!”

The Crossed Bones tribe filed out in a tight column with warriors protecting workers carrying heavy baskets and a gaggle of young ones. They moved quickly. Forked Tail was near the middle, helped along by one of the young mothers though she didn’t need it.

“Look after the children,” she urged.

“But grandmother…”

“They are more important than my ashy scales. I will be fine!”

She could still run. Behind them, a terrible crackle sounded. Despite knowing it was a bad idea, she still turned to watch the incoming danger. Blinding sparks and thick smoke emerged from the edge of the village, including from the ceramics workshop. Flames were already licking the closest of the huts. She felt the wave of heat slam against her old body like an ominous promise. It was fire. It was always fire, with them.

“The humans are attacking us,” she hissed. “Keep going!”

They did despite squawks of protest and worries. The warriors looked back with fear that they might fail their duty. She urged them on with quick words.

In front of them, huts exploded. Those belonging to the tribes that had attacked the hairy ones. Of course. If there was one thing Forked Tail understood, it was vengeance and how it ruined everything for those who couldn’t fight back.

“Keep going!” she insisted.

The Gate of Illusion beckoned. They were almost home. Large groups of warriors raced by them, some as fast as blurs, to defend the village. It was too late for the dwellings but it was not for those who couldn’t fight.

“Grandmother, let us go with them!” her warriors pleaded.

She had to let them. The tribe’s honor demanded it.

“Jagged Femur and Seek the Sun stay to protect us,” she said, pointing at the youngest warriors. “The rest of you, go.”

Explosions shook the sky. A fifth of the distant huts were crushed in a storm of metal before whatever cast it pulled back. Night Cloud was fighting but she couldn’t win against Him, and even less so when the Beast of Sharp Iron joined the fray. They had to hurry. The young warriors were even hesitating.

“Forward. Move!!” she hissed over the chaos, and they obeyed.

When they reached the empty space before the gate, Forked Tail gave a sigh of relief. It didn’t last long. There was a pair of third ascension warriors still guarding the gate, one she recognized and the other who was helping villagers flee. She and the guard’s eyes met. Then his glassed over. A shorter shape zipped out from behind him while his head fell from his shoulders. He was dead before he hit the ground, and the front of the portal devolved into chaos. A massive human, taller than even one of her people, was fighting the other guard to a standstill while shadowy figures broke the cages open.

“What do we do?” Seek the Sun screamed.

Many of the warriors engaged the newcomers who were forming a shield in front of the cages, their prisoners quickly escaping. Forked Tail hesitated because blood already stained the stones. The battle was furious. Flashes of movements, the clang of weapons. Bleeding warriors retreating. The humans were fierce, especially that tall female one who laughed as she fought, but there were two others who killed warriors as well. But Forked Tail was old and her instincts were quiet here. Her calm gaze searched for what was missing and found it immediately: bodies. They were missing bodies, those of laborers, because neither side was using spells.

Everyone was holding back. For now.

“Go! Go!”

Despite their fear, her people moved on, following other strings of crafters and mothers and children streaming through the aperture. Her two young warriors, only first ascension, made a weak attempt at guarding them. Forked Tail saw the tall huntress give them a dismissive look before returning to her battle against the third ascension guard, and her well-practiced mana sense told her something she refused to believe.

That whirlwind of death and strikes that pushed even the guard back? That monstrous power? That was only a second ascension. Fear urged Forked Tail on, as well as a deep sense of unease now that the first of her people were going through. She paused, helping a struggling mother with her children. Behind her, the refugees had naturally taken one side of the open ground while the other was occupied by empty cages, while human shadows dragged away the last of the captives. With the fire and the furious sky above, it provided a spectacle that seared itself in Forked Tail’s memory, one she would tell her people in the coming winters. Because if the village was destroyed for good, then for the very first time, the humans would have taken land away from the lizardmen.

The very thought chilled her old bones to the core. But no, perhaps it was merely a rescue. A rear guard of three humans were still fighting many more hunters. They were about to leave so Forked Tail watched. The tall one took the attention of many warriors so the shadowy ones could better strike. She was so large in Forked Tail’s perception, a vicious beast that couldn’t be cornered, but as they finally moved to the nearest hut, the old woman saw something that brought a measure of relief: the humans were not invincible. The tall female stopped and stumbled, moving back with a black spear planted in her chest, through the scales of her armor. Just as Forked Tail stepped into the Gate of Illusion, the tall human collapsed, vanquished and dying.