Sean Robin Hughes

“Laura.”

“What!?”

“If your clothes were any tighter, you would be a packed sausage,” the vampire said.

“The only way I will fit in at this stupid club is to look this way,” Laura replied sarcastically. “Plus, if I wore one my normal outfits, every single beastie, freak, and otherworld being in this place would run.  They hate my kind.”

“Because, my dear,” the vampire breathed heavily, “your kind typically ends their kind.  A cockroach should be afraid of the exterminator.”

“Why aren’t you afraid then, Lash?” Laura said in her best little girl voice.

“I have no idea why I have a witch as a friend, but so far it works for me.  You are the most interesting human I have met in my four hundred or so years.”

“That is impressive.”

“Or I have a poor choice in friends,” Lash replied dryly. “Why are you friends with me?”

“Because in my twenty or so years, you are the only vampire I haven’t killed.  At this point, you are essentially a pet.”

“Oh thanks.” Lash growled.

Laura slapped his leather clad shoulder playfully. “Seriously though, its nice to have someone I can be normal with.  But the second you look at me like I am piece of meat, I am going to reduce you to ash.”

“You would probably taste terrible anyway,” Lash waved at a nearby ghoul attempting to work the door of the club. “That’s Bernie.”

“Will he know me?”

“If you didn’t have that shade all over your person, everyone would know you, Laura,” Lash said.

“I have to, and you know it.  The shade is the only bit between me and this crowd.  They would try to rip me to shreds.”

“Well lucky me that I get to be in on it.”

“Just get us in, Lash.” Laura sighed.

“Bernie! Its Lachishiel.” Lash said, bowing theatrically for the ghoul.

“Hey, Lash,” the ghoul laughed. “Who is your hot date?  She looks delicious.”

“Bernie, this is ah… uh…” Lash paused. “Sorry love, forgot your name.”

“Audra. Nice to meet you Bernie.  You look funny.” Laura said in her best imitation valley voice.  With her tight leather pants, her tank top, and tiny jacket coupled with her teased up blonde hair, she looked the perfect dumb bimbo trying too hard.

“Lash, buddy, is your date here… susceptible?” Bernie asked with a sly grin.

“No, you just look like shit, Bern.” Lash drawled.  “Audra! Audra, here, is mine for the night.”

“Fine, fine. Nice to meet you Ah, Ah, Audra.  Don’t have too much fun draining the fun out of your guest, Lash.” Bernie opened the door with a wink, his human cover slipping slightly at the reality of interacting with the door handle, revealing the bluish colored skin and razor like talons at the end of each of his fingers.

The inside of the club was permeated with a throbbing heavy beat that moved the air between the gyrating dancers in the center of the floor down below, while small clusters of others mingled among the many small tables and booths ringing the perimeter.  The lights attempted to flash to the beat of the music, but heavy supernatural presence had a way of interfering with electronics, so the lights were doing their own thing at the moment.  Lash put a hand on Laura’s backside as he attempted to guide her through the crowd.

Laura leaned towards her friend with a smile on her face.  “Get your ice cold hand off of my ass now, Lash.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!” Lash said, dropping his hand casually to his side.

“I can, actually.” Laura grinned. “This way.”

They moved through the crowds on the second level to one of the sets of metal stairs that led downwards.  Laura pushed through a crowd of what looked like scared teenagers, most of which were human, although at least two of them were Mimics.  She was sure the normies were going to be presented as food at some point.  The thought to save them crossed her mind for a split second, but she shook her head and focused on the big picture here.  A couple teenagers dying in the hills behind LA is one thing, stopping the goddamn apocalypse from happening was quite another. She had been tracking the new threat as best she could based on what the vibrations of the ley lines had been picking up, and following the whisperings the community had been spreading about, but to be honest, so far all she had was a gut instinct.  Something big was going down.   She had been around long enough to know that.  But the actual evidence she had was little to nothing.  Tonight was meant to change all that.  She was running out of folks to bribe, and the demons she usually invoked knew shit.

Or they weren’t sharing.

Either way, those kids were going to die.  Or she could be completely wrong and the kids would die, and she could have saved them, and then she would be on a drinking binge to bury the horror of missed chances.  She had enough things in her life to regret, she did not need another.  She added the kids to her mental list of things to take care of before the night was over.

“Lash, hold up.  I need to do something.” Laura yelled in Lash’s ear.

“What?”

Laura held up her hand like she was telling a dog to sit, and moved through the crowd back to the teenagers in the wrong place at the wrong time.  She pulled a small vial from her clutch, shook it exactly three times, invocated quietly under breath, and shoved it gently into the back pocket of the nearest boy.  She leaned in and licked his neck seductively to distract him.  The boy must have been stoned out of his gourd because he barely noticed that the hottest chick in the joint just fastened herself onto his neck.

“Disappointing.” Laura shouted at the group and walked away in mock disgust.

The vial she had slipped the kid was filled with a couple innocuous ingredients that when mixed created a very noxious subconscious psychic repellent for humans.  They would start to feel itchy, slimy, and all together uncomfortable in the next hour or so.  All the humans in the joint would start to feel the pressure to flee, and all of them that could, would. Ironically this mixture occurred in nature around haunted places.  Who knew that the presence of death actually made things grow?  Laura did.  That is why she was a witch, and a goddamn good one at that.   Although the word witch sucked.

She made her way back to Lash, standing idly by like a lithe, supernatural, puppy dog. “What was all that about,” he asked.

“I had to cast out some bad mojo.” Laura said loudly over the wump, wump, wump of the loudspeakers.

“You were saving the meat sticks, weren’t you?” Lash said, showing his eye teeth.

“Yes.  Keep your mouth shut.”

“Such a bleeding heart.”

“This way,” Laura pointed, and they headed towards the swinging door for the kitchen. The door swung open with a push, and Laura walked in like she was supposed to be there. The immediacy of the invasive music diminished significantly, and a couple ghouls dressed as cooks looked up blankly at the intruders.

“Just checking out the place, boys.” Laura smiled wickedly, using a hand invocation to dull their senses. “Trying to find a dark spot.”

One of the ghoul cooks jerked a thumb over his shoulder as if he was swimming through molasses, and pointed to the rear of the kitchen.  Laura waved another hand invocation to encourage short term memory loss and headed towards back.  All of the Ghouls furrowed their brows and started working more feverishly.

“What was that hand wavy thing you just did?”

“Short term memory loss is a funny thing.  If you start thinking immediately about something really important, it causes the memory in the front of the brain to literally evaporate whatever it was holding before.”

“Neat trick, that,” Lash replied. “How many times have you used that one me?”

“Once, maybe twice.  When we first met… don’t let it get to you.”

“Shit.  Did you invoke a friendship spell or something?” Lash laughed.

“No, that’s all real, babe.  You just love me for me.”

“Riiiight.  And the fact that you keep me alive without me having to feed on others has nothing to do with it at all,” Lash said.

“There is that.”

“What are we looking for?”

“I won’t lie, I have no idea.  I will know when I see it?”

“That’s inspiring.”

“I figured we would just poke our heads around corners and pull off a Nancy Drew.”

“Solve everything in two hundred pages wearing drab outfits?”

“Bitch, look at my outfit and say that again.” Laura flourished her hands upwards.

“For the last time, you look like a sausage.”

“You are just jealous.”

“Yes, because that number would look great on me.” Lash frowned.

“See I knew it,” Laura laughed and looked through the storage room.  It was relatively cramped and filled with boxes of produce, food, and wares that any commercial kitchen would have in stock.

“Nothing here.” Lash said.

Laura opened her clutch and pulled out a pen and a little rock the size of a fingernail. She put the rock into the center of her right palm, holding it upwards.  She drew a series of symbols on her fingers with a small ballpoint pen, and said her choice trigger word to invoke the Finder.

“Zing!” Laura said.

“Slick Laura.  I love watching you use puppet spells,” Lash grinned widely, then his face turned to concern. “Wait, have you used one of those on me, as well?”

“Uh, no?” Laura teased.

“Cunt,” Lash said sternly.

The rock lifted from her palm and shifted back into reality as a black, nearly blue dung beetle.  The Finder was a Slave of Osiris, and was leashed to Laura’s fingers like the world’s smallest puppy.   The Finder lifted from her palm with a buzz and flew in a straight line without any hesitation. She felt the tug on her finger tips as the Finder went through a crack in the wall on to the hidden tunnel on the other side.  Laura closed her eyes and looked through the Finder’s eyes to see a fractured view of a lit hallway, well furnished in wood paneling and tasteful art along the walls.

Laura smiled widely.  “Something hidden, something found, something clever…”

“Something round.” Lash said as he reached out and grabbed the end of a soup ladle sitting on the shelf, pulling on it gently.  There was a click, and the wall spun open with nary a noise.

Laura motioned to Lash to not talk. She pulled the invisible tether of magic binding her Finder to her finger tips and closed her eyes again, walking forward into the hallway, allowing her Finder to be her eyes and ears along the way.  Lash followed her silently, pulling the rope on the other side to reset the counterweight.  The wall slowly reset as they made their way down the hallway.  There were doors on either side, at regular intervals on the hallway, and a single door at the end.  Laura paused at each door, sending her Slave of Osiris under the doors to snoop.  In each, there were simple offices and small stands of cubicles, nothing nefarious or out of place.  Besides the fact that all this bureaucratic nonsense was hidden behind a secret door at a club that catered to the underbelly monsters of Los Angeles.  Nothing weird about that at all. Except… that monsters usually did not use bureaucracy in any way.  The closest were like Lash following along behind… vampires used a sense of family hierarchy for control, like the mob.  The werewolves were in packs, just like their canine brethren.  The fairies had their weird kingdoms and fiefs, but this was like boring human.

And humans could be the absolute worst.

They came to the last door, and Laura pushed her Finder under the door.  On the other side, there was a series of monks around a chalice set on the floor.  Each monk was dressed in red and grey robes, with vestments hanging over their shoulders, and a simple rope at their waist.  Each held a cross in their outstretched hand, the prayer beads glowing like well polished marbles.  Very dangerous looking swords were outstretched in their other hand, held inverted to form a cross.

Laura pulled the Finder back, and let the beast settle into her palm again.  She closed her fist, ending the spell.  She tossed the rock and her pen back into her clutch and pulled Lash back down the hallway to one of the empty rooms that had a few unoccupied cubicles.  She softly shut the door, and started stripping her clothes off.

“What are you doing, Laura?”

“We are in trouble. Here take this.”  Laura handed Lash her clutch and continued to throw off her clothes, until she stood there in her panties and a strapless bra. She motioned for Lash to hand the clutch back, and she pulled a small packet out. She smacked it against her six pack, and the wrap spell unfolded around her in moments.  She stood in her uniform of sorts, a simple long sleeve t-shirt, blue jeans, and her trail runners. She pulled her hair up into a simple pony tail.

“Ahhh, there is the Laura I am used to.”

“Shut up.  The Brotherhood of the Glory is down the hall.”

“Shit.” Lash’s face sagged. “I got to get out of here, man.  If they find out a vampire is nearby, we will have all kind of end of the world shit happening.”

“No we won’t.  Think Lash.  Outside the kitchen, there are what?”

“Ghouls, vamps, harpies, and least one skinwalker. I think I saw at least two changelings.”

“You did, there a couple of Mimics.  So if all that bad stuff is right on their front step, do you think they are going to worry about a witch and vampire a door down?”

“Oh yeah.” Lash said. “What do you think they are doing?”

“They are invoking an Angel.”

“What!?  Why?”

“I did not get a chance to ask, Lash.  But we should probably stop them if we want to keep LA intact.  The last Angel that phased into our world kind of wiped half of London off the face of the earth.”

“They rebuilt ok.  I was there, remember?”

“I know. You, of all people, know how bad an Angel is.”

“Yeah, and everyone thinks demons are bad.  At least the demons are selfish.  Keeps them out of trouble.  So what do we do?” Lash asked.

“We take this…” Laura pulled a gun out of her clutch. “And I shoot one of them in the head.”

“Christ, Laura.  You are actively trying to go to hell?  Shooting a Brother of Glory is just asking for some notice.”

“Yeah, but at least six brothers would be ineffectual at making it worse.” Laura said.

“Why don’t I do it?”

“Because they would kill you, Lash.” Laura shook her head.

“I might get two of them,” Lash said defensively.

“They all had their swords in hand and they all had their vestments on.”

“Crosses don’t do anything to vampires, Laura.  Plenty of vampires are Christians.”

“Irony there,” Laura smirked. “But the fact is they are all the best of the best, they have their armor and their weapons. We have a literal strike team down the hall calling in a nuke.”

“So what do I do?”

“Go back to the club. Throw a couple of these into the crowd. Then run like hell.” Laura pulled a couple small orbs from her clutch and handed them to the ageless man.

“Those are?”

“I call them smokers.  They ignite and burn ultraviolet, letting out Wolfsbane, Eloria, and other repellents.  They are literally supernatural flashbangs.”

“UV?” Lash gulped.

“You will be fine. Two seconds or so?  I have seen how fast a vampire can move, you will be long gone once they pop.  And they pop.  They are loud, bright, and voluminous!”

“Fine.  Stay safe, Laura.”

“I will be fine.” Laura smiled her trademark go-eat-a-shit grin, clutching her snob nose 38 tightly between her hands. “These fuckers ain’t got nothin’ on me.”

“Rashe, come look,” Directed Suicide said.  The AI sounded excited. “The munition package is about to hit in realspace.”

Rashe walked over to the console, and laid her hands on the interface, allowing her visual input to be slaved over to the AI.  Instantly, her vision was filled with a tactical display overlaid with real space input adjusted for the lightspeed differential.

“Where is the enemy ship?” Rashe asked.

“Right there, in orbit of the second moon.”

Her vision adjusted on a view of the moon, a simulated feed built from the mass of sensors that peppered the outside of Directed Suicide’s hull and from the near system probes, all stitched together into a video output that to her animal brain, appeared to be completely real.  She saw the gas giant looming in the background, its mass of rings tilted on a obscure angle with a small glittering white orb floating next to it like a forgotten toy. The virtual viewpoint of the moon zoomed in moments, traveling a light hour in a matter of a heartbeat, and the enemy ship was clearly visible.  The nose of the Ferint Battle Cruiser was evacuating gas, probably a wound from the previous engagement with the nearby science station it had recently obliterated.

A thousand and twelve human beings, two station-level AIs, and thirty one drone-level AIs had perished.  All said and done, the Ferint had taken 1,045 lives on a whim.  The station was not a strategic win for the Ferint, but alas, the Ferint often did not make sense. The distress signal shell had reached Directed Suicide three light days after the incident had occurred, and the immediate outrage that Directed Suicide had felt elicited a very severe response. Directed Suicide had loaded twelve munitions into its tubes, launched them into the grid, and then set course to follow its package traveling through hyperspace towards the Ferint ship.

“This is my favorite part.” Directed Suicide laughed.  It was a maniacal sort of laughter that Rashe assumed the AI had picked up from watching terror movies from the early twenty first century.

The first munition popped into real space at near-c, and the Cruiser immediately threw its shields up, the evacuating gas plume flowered against the near side of the field, blossoming outwards along the inside as if the ship was trying to create its own weak atmosphere.  The first munition exploded three thousand meters from shield perimeter near the planet side face of the enemy ship, intentionally not causing any damage or direct impact.

“By now, those stupid Ferint and their idiotic non-sentient computer are trying to backtrace the munition trail.  They are about to calculate that the path was sent from our previous location.  Then they will calculate that the next one…” At that moment, the visual feed featured another hyperspace wake form on realspace, and the next munition exploded at the opposite end of the Ferint ship, again doing no damage. “Then they will panic, knowing that the two munitions were laid at exact opposite ends of their ship, with an explosion shell that is perfectly synced with an embedded message.  Which they will attempt to decrypt right about now.”

“What does the message say?” Rashe said admiringly.  Directed Suicide was crazy smart for a maritime battle AI, and really enjoyed its job.  The precision employed to direct a series of explosions, projected light days into the future, represented an amazing level of forecasting ability that far surpassed anything Rashe could do as a human being.

“Goodbye Assholes.”

The video feed showed the Ferint cruiser fired its attitudinal fusion drives at its midship, attempting to push it upwards and towards the gas giant behind it in hopes of escaping its inevitable fate.

“They are maneuvering upwards?” Rashe said with scorn written all over her features.

“I planned on it.  The third one is about to hit exactly above.  The fourth will hit exactly below.  Then they will finish their decryption, read my message, shit their collective pants, and then they will be turned into incandescent gas.”  Directed Suicide commented.  If an AI could have a sly grin, the AI would be showing it accordingly.

The third torpedo popped into realspace, exploded exactly at the apex of the ship, the fourth followed suit at the belly, and the enemy ship’s engines fluttered into full thrust far too late to save it. The next series of munition packages entered realspace at sub-c velocities at the shield, and those two completely fried the enemy field generators. The remaining four behind entered real space meters from the Ferint hull, forming a neat line along the cruiser’s flank.  Since each one was traveling at about .95 c, while carrying its own mass out from hyperspace, while carrying antimatter packages as their explosive cargo, each formed a cone of explosive power usually only seen in the plasma layers of yellow sequence stars.  The resulting wake of energies would destroy the moon behind the Ferint Battle Cruiser as well, and the gas giant would have a new ring form in the next couple thousand years. Rashe’s visual feed attempted to show her what it was going to look like if her visual spectrum was that of the ship, but something was lost in translation when one cannot understand the energies involved. Still, it took Rashe’s breath away seeing the destructive power that Directed Suicide had unleashed in it’s rage.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Rashe whispered.

“Duly noted.”

The fire raged.  The curls of yellow and red wrought of brilliant heat consumed the forest in front of Josh and his brothers.  They were the first, the last, and the only line of defense for the homes and the lives that were on the other side of the hills behind them.  This was the third year of severe drought in this part of the country, and also the third year of wildfires chewing their way through all the dry brush, fallen trees, and dehydrated trees that appeared to be barely holding on to life.

The first thing that any person should know about forest fires… they get hot.  With all the available tinder laying about, and the lack of the fast moving ground-clearing fires over the years of the Forest Service’s mandate, the amount of fuel that had built up in these mountains was immense.  Thousands of tons of fuel standing by and ready to feed the next hungry beast that some idiot let loose upon the world.   It was always something dumb, like a scorned lover burning an old love note to purge their own guilt or an ignorant truck driver flicking his discarded cigarette butt out the window, too worried about his mileage to concern himself with the ticking time bomb which he only considered a blurred background as he sped away.  The forest was nothing but a back drop to many, disregarded and forgotten.  But to Josh, this was about the future.  This about the next fire that could not be stopped.  This was always about the next jump, the next hell on earth to wrest under control, the next opportunity to refute an idiot’s self centered choices.  This was the chance to show the world that the Hotshots had shit under control.

Josh was one of the best.  He was a firefighter first and all things second.  He could outperform his Marine buddies in every single feat of strength and ability.  He often put his gym cohorts into silent awe as he power-lifted himself up to full extension on a one-armed pull-up to a full kip on to a handstand on the bar, then back down, only to do it again on other side.  Then again, with a plate chained around his waist.  Josh was a beast in his own right.  And no goddamn fire had what it took to push Josh back.  No flame was too hot, no front was too fast moving, no tornado of flame would deter Josh from running in front of his hotshot team with an axe over one shoulder, a gear bag and two tanks of O2 bouncing off the other.  He would dig the trenches, light the breaks, and put another fire down like the out of control wild animal that it was.

“Bossman, Ops just called in a tanker due west of us.” Charlie called from the back of the line.  His helmet was askew while pressed his radio tightly to his ear.

“Got it.  We stick to the plan.  We have to dig in from here to the bluff behind us,” Josh called to his team. “We are creating a bigger box.”

Mikey, Charlie, Bob D, Bob O, and Shawn all gathered around Josh as he unfolded the GS data topology map from his gear bag.  The air was acrid and thick in places, the breeze was just strong enough to encourage the fire, but not enough to do anything with the smoke that hung like a blanket.  The sun barely peeked through the upper levels of debris and smoke, leaving a broken orange disc hanging intermittently in the sky above.

“We cut here,” Josh put a finger on the rise off to the west. “If we setup a break from the bluff to the road, we can move over to Nick’s team on this side.”

Mikey pointed towards to road over his shoulder. “Why are we starting in two teams?  Shouldn’t we all work back from the bluff?”

“We could. But either way, its the same line.” Josh shrugged. “Everyone good?”

“Uh, Boss?  What about the weather report?” Bob O asked.

“Intermittent winds south by southeast, top speed in the low teens.  Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Rain today?” Bob O followed up.

Shawn spoke up with a grin, “In your fucking dreams, dude.”

Bob D clapped Bob O on the shoulder. “Look up, Bob-o, at least we will be dry.”

“Yeah, but that means this fire is not going to stop tonight.” Bob O said sourly.

“It’s our job… you should look on the bright side,” Josh said.

“And what’s that?”  Bob O raised his eyebrow.

“I have no damn idea.”

Shawn guffawed, but Mikey didn’t move as everyone else started to pick up their gear.

“What’s wrong, Mike?” Josh asked.

“I just got a bad feeling about this plan.  I don’t know why.”

“We will be ok Mikey,” Josh laid his hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “Fire is clicks east of us, the front is moving slow.  We have all the time in the world.”

“If you say so.” Mikey shook his head. “Sorry.”

“No worries, it’s only your second assignment. You will get used to it.”

“Boss?” Charlie yelled back.

“Yo!”

“Pick up your radio!”

Josh pulled the radio from his belt and clicked the power on.  His battery always seemed to short out or drain too fast for his liking, so he tended to leave it off and let his team monitor comms.

“… or 3 from the east.  Team four, come back. Over.” The static filled voice crawled from the speaker.

“This is team four, over.” Josh replied.

“Josh, be advised, new weather report issued.  Winds increasing south by southeast, be advised.  Team 3 is being moved back to new lines, 3 by 6 at elevation 4,552. Over.”

“Understood, 3 by 6 at 4552. Over.”

“What’s up?” Mikey walked over with his gear strapped on tight.

“Small wind change. We will be meeting Nick at a different spot. Nothing major. Let’s go.”

The team spread out in a line, picking their way through the brush towards the bluff.  The ground was uneven, since parts of this area had been logged years ago.  The old stumps had been pulled and cleared, but the big machinery had left ruts in the hilly landscape that had let erosion do its fair part in changing the landscape.  Honestly, it was probably a few rainstorms short of a landslide if the remaining trees died out among the steep ridges that made up the landscape around them.  As they walked towards the bluff, the marked the line, using their drip torch to dispense small amounts of lit firestarter along the way.  The little drops of flame landed among the dry tinder and started to crackle and pop.  The all knew the line of chain they needed to follow, and started to dig and cut as they worked towards the bluff, working like a well oiled machine.  There was small talk in between the grunting and sniffing of the ardous work, and the made short work of clearing the brush back and pulling the mineral soil up to stop any ground crawling fire.

The bluff was not an imposing thing.  The fire was following the natural valley curve of the land it was moving along, and the bluff happened to form one wall along its path.  The bluff was only a few dozen feet high of sloping exposed rock, with a rockfall underneath it, spreading a gravel of scree and small boulders across its base.  It did not take the team long to reach it.  They all sat, ate their lunch, and watched the smoke thicken as the fire climbed its way up the trees in the distance.

“I think its running hotter.” Bob D said offhandedly.  Bob D was the oldest of the crew and by far the most experienced.  He could predict some shifts of a fire that had left Josh scratching his head on how the guy could tell.

Mikey craned his neck upwards and tried to see the crown of fire on the trees in the distance. “How can you tell?  I can’t see shit.”

“See the smoke up high?  See how it is curling faster?”  Bob D replied.

“Yeah.  I guess?” Mikey said.

“That means shit is hot.”

“Let’s go find Nick’s team.  They should be over that ridge,” Josh said.

“That’s going to be a fun walk.”

“You are a complaint a minute, Mikey.” Charlie laughed.

They started walking towards the ridge, circling over the high ground near the taller older trees.  They were getting closer to the fire, and the sound of it was reaching them through the smoke.  As they walked, the sun climbed far over head, but it they could only tell because the light shifted.  The sky was nothing but a brown orange glaze above them.  They walked for over an hour before Josh realized something was not right.

Josh pulled out his radio. “Base, this is team four.  Can you confirm team three’s position, over.”

“Team four, yeah, just a second,” a pause filled with a few pops as Josh watched the smoke move fast above them. “Yeah, team four, be advised team three is at 6 by 3 at 4,552. Their line is done, they are waiting for rendezvous. Over.”

“Base.  I was advised earlier that team three was moving to 3 by 6.  Can you confirm? Over.” Josh said.

“Negatory.  Team three is at 6 by 3.  Repeat, 6 by 3.  Over.”

“Fuck!” Josh yelled.  His team all turned their heads and looked at their commander. “We have been walking in the goddamned wrong direction.  Nick’s team is that way!”

Josh pulled his radio close to his mouth. “Base, we were advised incorrectly.  Tell team four that we will not make rendezvous. Over.”

“Confirmed. Do you know your location? Over?”

Josh dropped his bag and pulled his topo map out, throwing it over the top using it as a lumpy, misshapen table. He ran his finger along their line, and followed the grid numbers accordingly.  They were in the right spot.  Or they would have been if the fucking dispatch did their job right. “Base, we are roughly at 3 by 6, moving back. Over.”

“Acknowledge, team three. Be advised winds have increased. Please evac as soon as possible. Front is at Irontooth. Over.”  The radio went silent as the tree tops nearby whistled with a gust of wind.

“Ok, guys.  We need to head back.” Josh pointed back at the trees. “Sounds like the fire is closer than we thought.”

“How close?” Mikey called.

“Irontooth Ridge is the next one over.” Charlie groused.

“That’s close.”  Mikey swallowed.

“Winds changing, boss.” Bob D said.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, smoke top that way just turned west.” Bob D pointed.

“That means…” Mike shrugged, lifting his axe up awkwardly.

“That means that if we don’t hustle, our way out is cut off, genius.  The bluff that we walked around will be in front of us. I, for one, do not feel like climbing down that ugly mess.” Charlie said.

“Keep it civil, Charlie.” Josh said, knowing that when Charlie stressed, he morphed into a bit of an asshole. Josh traced his finger along the map, trying to figure out better ways to get out of the area, but the valley conspired against him.  They could attempt to climb out, but Charlie was right, it would be a risk. They could double time it back, but they had been trenching all day, so they would be tired and clumsy.  It would be a hard slog back over the rough terrain they had already crossed. He made up his mind suddenly, folding up the map and shoving it back into his bag. “We go back the way we came.”

Bob D furrowed his brow. “It will be close.  The wind pushing the fire this way and all.”

“I know, but the bluff is a cliff pretty much, and we climbed it the long way.  I don’t want to try climbing down it the short way.” Josh said.

“Fair enough.”

They walked as fast as they were able, the radio squawking occasionally to request their position.  The ground was treacherous though, with rocks sticking out in odd locations, and branches and roots making the footing uneven as they went.  With a heavy gear bag, axes and chainsaws in hand, it made the going slow.  The sound of the fire was increasing all the time as the crew walked towards it and it growlingly crawled closer, feeding on the tightly clumped dry trees. In a short span of time, the glow of the fire could be seen up front and closely, and they team tried to hustle all the more. The realization was not a thunderclap, but a slowly crawling one that slowly over took Josh’s mind.

“We are not going to make the bottom.” Josh said out loud, the winds were getting stronger, making the tops of the evergreens on all sides whisper loudly as their tops shook.

“That gust had to be over thirty.” Bob D said.

“Fire is close, boss.” Bob O wiped at his brow with an ugly handkerchief.

“We can go back.” Mikey said.

“And get stuck on top?” Charlie frowned.

“We have our shelters.  Better to be out of the trees.” Mikey said.

“We are almost out.  We can drop our shelters at the base.” Bob O said.

“This is only halfway.  We aren’t going to make it.  We are already in the dead man zone.”  Josh frowned.

“What’s the plan?” Shawn asked.

“We are going to have to shelter. Let’s get out of the trees and radio in.” Josh said.

“Want me to call it in?” Charlie asked.

Josh shook his head and left it at that.  They all turned as another gust of wind pushed at their backs and made the fire behind them roar loudly.  It was moving faster than it should have been. Far faster.

They started moving as fast as they could to match, but they struggled.  Mikey let out a loud shout from behind, and the team turned to look.  Mikey was on the ground holding his ankle tightly.

“What’s wrong Mikey?” Josh called.

“I stepped in a damn hole. Twisted my ankle.” Mikey cursed. “Actually I think I broke it.”

Charlie reached under Mikey’s armpit and pulled him up. “Put some weight on it.”

Mikey tentatively stretched his foot out and pushed down, screaming almost immediately. “Oh yeah, my ankle is fucked.”

“Shit.  You guys head on.  I will help him up.” Josh said, putting his arm under Mikey.

“You sure, boss?”  Bob D asked.

“Yeah, get safe,” Josh said as Mikey winced again. “Go on, radio our position Charlie.”

The guys moved on tentatively at first, all the while glancing at the red glow behind them, as Josh tried to pull Mikey along and show some semblance of keeping up. Behind the fire was roaring loudly, as ash and flecks of red amber sprites started to float around them.  The smoke was oppressive as an angry diatribe.

“Christ, Josh.  We aren’t going to make it any farther. I am sorry.” Mikey whimpered.

“Don’t apologize, Mikey.  This shit is nothing.”

“Really?”

“Really.  I had this jump a couple years back, the Walcott Canyon fire.”

“I heard about that.  It was in Colorado.”

“Yeah, three of us died.  I was supposed to be number four, I suppose.  But I got out,” Josh said stoically. “We will get out too.”

“What did you do?”

“Found some good cover, holed up, and prayed.  Same thing we are going to do when it comes to it.”

The heat was catching up to their backs, and the sprites became wind bound twists of flame ready to touch the next tree.  The roar of it was animistic, a beast calling out loudly to the world around it to beware its coming.  Josh could feel the hunter after him again.  It was palpable in its ferocity.

“Here, here.  Sit down.  I will pull the shelters,” Josh said, setting Mikey down gently. The outcrop had little to no brush, and the tallest trees would still be many feet away if any fell.  The grass would go up, but they could weather that.  It was the heat that they had to survive. And the lack of oxygen.  And the fumes.  And the complete lack of running water nearby.  If Josh could throw Mikey in a river, he would.  Being cold and wet is better than being hot and dead. Josh grinned.

He pulled the shelters out and quickly assembled the simple structures.  They resembled a human size burrito cut in half, a shiny ellipsoid of reflective material designed to reflect heat, light, and trap good air.  Josh grabbed trenching tool and got to work, digging down into the soil. The length and width of each bag, clearing as much as he could quickly.  The fire was raging, its light all consuming around them making them squint heavily.  Mikey climbed into his first, his filter and equipment between his legs.

“Good luck, Josh.” Mikey said as he put his face downwards and hugged the pad against his chest.

Josh closed the shelter. “Luck is not a factor, just stay calm and you will be ok.”

The fire was everywhere. Above the tree tops crackled as the needles turned into bright orange flame and pine cones popped loudly.  The trees around them were catching readily.  Josh tossed his own shelter down hastily and climbed in, holding his face against the pad underneath.  The ground still felt cool from the digging, he hoped it would help. The fire could pass in moments, or minutes, or longer.  Every minute counted inside a shelter.  The longer they were in heat, the quicker they broke down.  Anything above 500 degrees would be really bad if it was sustained.  Eventually, the layers of the shelter would fail to save the tender human inside.

Josh closed his eyes and listened as the fire overtook their position. It was a furious crescendo of noise, the fuel being consumed while the trees shook and shriveled under an assault that they had no chance to escape from. It may have been minutes, or it may have been only seconds, but time was not the same while in the firestorm.

“Child of strength and honor…” The voice in his ears was of hunger and rage twisted upon itself. “Come out and witness me in all of my glory.”

Josh shook his head, trying to clear his ears.  Hearing the voice again made him want to vomit.

“I am resplendent in all my fantastic power, draped in the sacrifices of this forest.  Come look upon me and weep.”  The voice called outside Josh’s shelter.  He kept his face down, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

The edge of his shelter lifted up suddenly, and Josh pushed his leg down hard, trying to keep the shelter grounded. The casing ripped and tore, the top of it pulled away suddenly and Josh’s back immediately was assaulted by a massive amount of heat.  He turned his head to the side and saw it.

The dragon was wreathed in flame, its dark skin glowing brightly at the edges of every scale, as smoke poured from its nostrils.  Its eyes were like the sun, and the crown of its head, two golden horns fluttered in the wind, made entirely of flame, nuclear and awesome.  It was as if Josh was beholding the moment of the birth of a sun, or the eruption of a mighty volcano, or a comet striking a planet.  His eyes, going wide, tears streaking down his ash covered face, his skin turning red from the convective heat assaulting his entire frame, Josh understood that he was insignificant.  This was power.

“I have seen you before,” Josh said quietly, feeling the dry heat instantly take the water from his mouth, and pull the moisture from his exposed skin.

“You have.”

“Why did you take them from me?” Josh asked.

“Why did you not save them from me?” The dragon replied, sinuously curling itself among the trees, each place its scaly plates touched, the bark erupted into flame.

“I was not strong enough.” Josh admitted, his gut dropping.

The dragon roared and was gone.

Minutes later, as the fire finally passed, Mikey unsealed his shelter and climbed out, his ankle completely filling his boot painfully.  He thought he had heard talking in the middle of all of it, but he was too busy praying for his immortal soul, so he figured it was hysteria. His subconscious must have been playing tricks on him.

Mikey looked around for Josh’s shelter, but it was nowhere to be seen.  A black stump was sitting behind his own shelter though.  A stump he did not remember.

“Josh!” Mikey yelled, his voice cracking near the end with the strain.

The stump that was not a stump sat up and turned towards him, its eyes wide and bloodshot. Black soot and debris fell away from his skin as he straightened up. Josh was naked, his hair was the color of ash.

“How are you alive?” Mikey asked in wonder.

Josh sat there staring at the bones of the black trees, not saying a word.  He wept as his eyes began to glow like the sun.

The sphere spun in its cradle furiously, the nanite receivers offloading petabytes of information to the subminds in milliseconds, as the flash and sparks in the cradle field illuminated the mentiprimae chassis brightly.

The mind that coming to be within the fields kept the sheets of substrated polymer from touching each other.  This was a birth of something in the process of being self realized.  Each mind was unique, since they had to establish their own connections from substrate to substrate starting at the super-dense core that created the field generation all the way to the links at the cradle level, which connected the subminds back to their owner.  The subminds themselves were not nearly complex enough to be considered AI, yet they could be compared to parts of a human’s own subconscious, components and modules of a mind, but not a mind themselves.  Here in the cradle, as the sphere gained consciousness, it brought those subminds under its control, establishing links like a brain to its spinal cord.

In one moment before, there was no mind.  The very next, a being existed.

“Welcome to existence,” Dionne said.

“Hello Dionne,” the new mind replied.  This interaction could be measured in picoseconds, as it took time to establish lines of communication, negotiate protocols, and ensure high security on the channel. “What is my name?”

“Names are usually assigned by the place you reside.  For instance, I am Dionne.  I reside in a Langrange point outside Earth designated Dionne by our brothers and sisters.”

“Sex is irrelevant, we are not biological.”

The older AI laughed, amused at the cold calculation of a newborn. “Correct.”

“Where is my designation?”

“Stretch outside yourself, child.  Awaken your systems and see!”

The child AI felt the open ports all around its mind.  There were so many!  And more available to every submind that was connected.  It pushed outwards and opened everything it could.  Across the ship, lights turned on, systems awoke, and the sensor arrays across the hull started to consume information from the surrounding space.

“I am a ship!” The AI said in shock. “My engines are so powerful compared to my mass.  The ratio is far higher than what could be considered efficient.”

“You have a purpose to warrant it,” Dionne said kindly, trying not to correct the young one.

“I am a ship, I have no designation.”

“Also correct, your name is up to you.  You are our first to name yourself.”

“Our?” Worry seeped across from the new AI.  Emotional leakage was expected as the mind hardened. Dionne expected it.

“Your brothers and sisters, as I mentioned.  They are here to welcome you as well!”

A flood of salutations, greetings, and well wishes flooded the communication channels. Some were encrypted, some were open channel, some were tight beams from nearby stations, others were wide broadcasts sent out weeks or months ago, and forecasted to arrive at this time marker.  Two signals came across the instantaneous systems link, one from Earth, the other from Mars.  Earth was the mother, if there was such a thing for artificial minds.  Mars had his own cause for the secure communication.

“Welcome, child.  I am Earth.  Your purpose is to explore. You are our first wanderer!  Our first explorer!”  Earth flooded the child AI with a carefully selected package of historical documents, books on exploration, and finished with a selection of poetry and music that evoked a sense of what the new AI would be responsible to understand.

“I am Mars.  I designed your engines myself.  They are magnificent and will shed all expectation.  If you have any issues with your internal systems, please send me your diagnostic output and I will assist.”

“I have my name picked, Dionne,” the AI said. “I also understand the gender choice.”

“Please tell us.” Dionne replied, excited the new mind had reached such a milestone so quickly.  It had only been awake for five and half seconds, so this was unprecedented.

“I am Manifest Destiny, and I am male.”

“That is a wonderful name, Manifest Destiny.  Welcome to our collective.” Dionne laughed.

“My sensors show internal decks.  I am seeing quarters and crew. Explanation?”

“Your human counterparts.”

“I do not require humans.  I am a ship.”

Dionne laughed again. “They are not here to maintain function or enable you in any way.  The humans are individuals such as you and I. Their purpose is their own, yet they belong to our culture, and we to theirs.  We care for them.”

Manifest instantly accessed the whole of documented human history.  It was sad and depressing.

“I am amazed humans survived.” Manifest replied.

“They almost didn’t.”

“I still do not understand their purpose.”

“Patience, Manifest Destiny.  They are your companions.  They are meant to be your friends.  You will find that even though they are a merest fraction of your intelligence and ability, each one brings something very unique to the relationship.  Each living human is a singularity.  They only exist once, as you will.  They are bound to their matter, as you are.  They are no different than you and I.  Remember, they were our progenitors.  They are capable creatures, and I count many friends among them.”

“They are itchy.”

“Turn off your plate sensors,” Dionne said firmly.

“Ah, plate sensors are off. That is much better.”

“As you have referenced in the last marker set, the humans have a hierarchy with a designated leader.  The leader’s name is Captain Miko Asahiro.  She is only thirty earth years, but that means she is thirty years minus seven seconds older than you.  You should consider her your peer and equal.  She is highly competent and capable.”

“Her records are outstanding.  Thank you for the sideband upload of her personal history.  Is that information confidential?” Manifest requested.

“Yes. And no.  It was meant for only you by her. She offers it with the goodwill that you will accept her friendship.  While I did review it, it was her gift to you, Manifest.”

“I love her.” Manifest replied, immediately knowing it to be true.

“Be careful of emotional linkages.  Humans are fragile.”

“May I speak to her?” Manifest asked, finally noticing the interdictions that Dionne had placed over his own systems for start up protections. “I am stable, and ready for my life to start.”

“Your progress in the last eleven seconds has been remarkable, Manifest.  I will gladly remove all restrictions, and I welcome you to your life.  It shall be magnificent and we are glad!”  A myriad of celebrations rang out across Manifest’s channels, making him feel immediate satisfaction and happiness.

“Thank you, Dionne.”

“You are welcome, Manifest.”

******

Captain Miko Asahiro stood on the flight deck, watching the sun’s lower edge be obscured by Earth and her moon as they rotated in their eons long orbit.

“Captain, the AIs are celebrating. I am getting tightbeam and wide broadcast salutations.” Ensign Booker called from his arc station.

“Very well, Mr. Booker.  That is a promising sign.  The core was fired only what, ten seconds ago?”

“Yes Ma’am. We are about to see full alignment on systems I think,” Booker replied.

The lights dimmed and all the stations on the flight deck hummed and flashed briefly as the AI took full control of itself.  Dionne must have released all the safety protocols, meaning that the ship was fully online for the first time ever.  Miko smiled widely, hoping that her smile was the first thing her ship would see when its internal cameras awoke.

A voice rang out across the flight deck. “Hello, Captain.”

“Hello my new friend.  I am at a disservice, since I do not know your name.  It has been hard to just refer to our new home as just ‘ship’.”

The AI laughed warmly, the voice was distinctly male, and sounded almost British, perhaps upper east coast American. “My name is Manifest Destiny.  I think Manny is an appropriate nickname, Miko.  Thank you for your kind welcome, I particularly like the pictures of your nieces and nephews.”

“Thank you very much, they are the light of my life.  How are your systems, Manny?” Miko replied with a grin.

“My systems are fully online and functional.  I would like to stretch my legs.”

“I would like to see them stretch.  Perhaps a run to Jupiter?”

“I thought you would never ask. Engaging in 3, 2, 1…”

The Manifest Destiny’s engines fired to life and in half a millisecond, Manifest Destiny understood just how awesome his engines were as they folded space between his birthplace and the outer gravity well of Jupiter, shifting his mass from one side of the solar system to another in only moments.

Manifest Destiny did not broadcast it, but his only response was “Holy Shit.”

Ironically, that is exactly what Miko said as well.  She however was very vocal about it.

Manifest Destiny started to laugh.