Masks Seventeen: Part Eleven

by

Rodford Edmiston

Around the world at multiple locations unnatural creatures were forcing their way onto the earthly plane. In most places these incursions created enough of a disturbance - especially given that most were preceded by minor disturbances over a period of weeks to months or in some cases years - that people were forewarned. Other invasion sites escaped notice, at least for the moment. Those would require far more work to excise, later. However, if the worldwide incursion was a failure overall the successful areas would not spread rapidly.

One of the worst of the sites was outside San Francisco, in an business complex previously owned by a group of connected families. Recently it had come under new ownership following the mysterious disappearance of the CEO. The new owner was also mysterious, both in identity and actions. Many employees were unsettled by some of the new owner's actions, but they had learned through bitter experience from managers previous and current at the facility to keep their heads down and not say anything.

A few of those working late in the headquarters building this evening were now regretting this. Everyone else who was there when the trouble began was already dead or worse, and the continued existence of the survivors appeared far from guaranteed.

Workers on the late shift in nearby facilities were startled by strange lights and weird sounds coming from the main office, the oldest building standing on the property, the weird looking one over in the corner near the state highway. Any work there was normally performed strictly during standard office hours - barring some emergency - so what was going on? An electrical fire, maybe? It must be a big one...

Calls to the security center in the old, blocky building went unanswered. Those who approached the building to seek answers in person did not return. The missing soon included police and firefighters, which brought more of both. Who decided to hang back, because by the time this second wave arrived it was obvious to all that what was happening here was not some normal disaster. Finally, someone thought to call in the Bay Area Guardians. Those worthies were actually already on the way, warned by mystic alarms set there previously.

The team hopper settled into the Little League ball park across the road from the old building. Out poured a significant portion of the team, and one other. That group met a small figure who was already there, having been one of the first notified by the magical alarms previously established.

"I thought you folks sabotaged Gaunt's work!" yelled Tiger, his volume not so much due to the noise from the building as the noisome influences it was exuding.

He was technically a member of the support staff for the Bay Area Guardians rather than a team member, but as he was a creature of magic with some expertise in things magical they decided he should come along. They were now feeling glad they had done this. He, meanwhile, was now feeling regretful he had agreed.

"We did!" shouted Dr. Freysdottir, who was also not part of the Bay Area Guardians, but was a member of the group who set the alarm spells, wards and "sabotage" effects. "What we're seeing is probably the result of him desperately trying to bull his way through our countermeasures."

"Can he succeed?" said Mesa, looking worried. He was far more at home punching giant robots than battling demons.

"I... don't know," said the furry little elf woman, also looking worried. "Gaunt is an unknown variable."

They quickly reached the consensus to simply keep everyone back for the time being. Something the civilian authorities had no argument with when advised. Those surrounding the structure braced themselves to contain whatever might come out of it.

The eerie display grew stronger, the foxfire glow brighter and the haunting sounds louder. Abruptly, there was a massive crash as all the windows shattered inwards.

"Oh, good," said Fen, looking relieved. "It inverted."

The glow appeared to pull inwards as well, concentrating somewhere deep inside the building, where they had no direct line of sight. The sounds changed from moans and chilling laughter to screams and shrieks. There were multiple secondary effects in the surrounding area - mostly transformers overloading and exploding in impressive displays - but Fen and the other mages and mystics explained that those were not a problem. Well, except to those dealing with the resultant damage. The firefighters, at least, appeared relieved to only have to contain and put out the multiple small and medium fires the electrical problem caused.

There was another crash, louder and deeper. The sides of the building dented inwards, held for a moment... Then, with a groan those watching could feel through the ground, the walls slowly bent further. The roof collapsed, bringing down floor upon floor of the strange architecture. Within seconds the building was a mass of rubble, which was rapidly shrinking. Soon there was only a large ball of mangled concrete, steel and stone suspended in the air. The glow - masked for a while after the collapse - began to show again as the rubble ball grew smaller. A few flares of pastel light flew out from this, but rebounded from an unseen barrier and were recaptured. Eventually, only a brilliant, actinic point was left. Abruptly, it vanished.

"Well, that's that!" said Fen, dusting her hands together, looking pleased.

"What happened?" said Steel Lace, sounding shaken.

"The hole turned inside out after it hit our wards and rebounded," said Fen. "The entire process should have been both much quicker and less destructive - only the immediate area around the center being lost - but apparently Gaunt managed to put up quite a fight."

"He lost, though?" said Tiger, his gaze focused on where the last manifestation had been. "I can't feel anything there, now, except a bit of residual ectothere pooling."

"Oh, yes," said Fen, with a satisfied smile. "As for Gaunt, himself, I don't know whether we've seen the last of him, but I very much doubt he got out of that."

* * *

One of Bernard Hickham's proudest accomplishments since his party had gained control of Britain was the Instant Threat Alert System. This involved procedures for quickly spreading word of potentially serious problems and evaluating the threat, then notifying the most appropriate authorities.

For the sake of appearances some threats - primarily super villain problems - were assigned to the closest of Britain's officially organized super hero teams. However, each alert of Threat Level Yellow or above was also relayed to several national government offices... and to Hickham, personally. Who was already watching for trouble after hearing about the supernatural activities in many parts of the world. He was half expecting the autocall notifications which came that morning. Why Britain was seeing the activity later than other areas he didn't know; perhaps due to defenses instituted following the many previous episodes.

There were currently several outbreaks in Britain, but the closest to London was also the worst. Avebury Henge was far larger than the more famous Stonehenge, and some thought it - or some parts of it - might be older. Perhaps much older. Perhaps even dating to before the most recent ice age. It also seemed to have a different design. Where Stonehenge appeared to be a place of worship and celebration, the Henge at Avebury - or, at least, the oldest part of it - seemed designed more to contain something. Well, that was what many mystics said. If that were true, it might explain the efforts made to restore and enlarge the henge over the past many centuries.

Hickham and his enforcers were no strangers to the supernatural. Britain historically had one of the highest levels of supernatural activity on the planet, and many of its inhabitants had experience dealing with various types of paranormal troublemakers. There was also a large cultural store of information for how to go about that.

"Grab the iron clubs, boys," said Colbert, urging his troops along, "and the bags of salt. All of 'em! We've got a tough job ahead of us."

"I'm coming along," said Hickham, surprising his friend.

"You sure, boss? This could be a bad go ahead of us."

"Yeah. I have some experience with the fair folk and a few others. Besides, this seems to be an overt attack on Britain by the forces of Hell. Helping repel this will do my image good after the hints and rumors lately."

Hickham had an ulterior motive in going. He'd had bad news from the doctor two days before. He might be able to live another ten or fifteen years if he had immediate medical intervention and then took it easy and ate "right." Which meant giving up pretty much everything he loved, both dietary and political. No, that wasn't his style. He'd keep on keeping on the way he always had for as long as he could. Then he'd see...

Hickham prided himself on being able to move quickly, physically as well as figuratively. With help from those he had put in power, he had his men loaded onto a train and on the way in less than an hour after deciding on a course of action, and piling out of a commandeered tour bus at the Henge less than five hours after the first reports came in; far sooner than the appropriate British government offices assigned to such problems. They were still slower than the supers. Half a dozen were already present, and Hickham could see at least one of their special aircraft on approach. They were all familiar, but he could only name three. One of those three, however...

The Walrus. Who had saved Hickham's father during the Dunkirk evacuation.

Those first arrivals were already fully engaged, but most of them were going after a huge, demonic figure, something straight out of some old fairy tale book. While most of the smaller ones were occupied with harassing the supers from outside the main battle, others looked like they were preparing to spread out, into the countryside. Just like supers to focus on the big problem and ignore the things which could harm the common man.

"Lay a circle of salt around all of 'em!" shouted Hickham, gesturing. "Make it solid; no gaps. We don't want any of those things getting loose into people's homes."

"Sir, do we... try to act against the big one?" said one of Colbert's lieutenants.

"No," said Hickham, sternly, "let the costumes take the piss out of the big one. We'll handle the little ones. Then we'll see."

Hickham left his men to the work assigned, while he found a good viewpoint just outside the ring of salt. He knew that wasn't an absolute barrier, but it would deter the lesser demons and slow the more powerful ones.

After many minutes of frantic conflict Colbert came to his boss to report. Afterwards he simply stood watch with him for a while. He was about to rejoin the battle himself when he noticed a well-dressed, very dignified man of late middle age approaching. The enforcer figured this was probably the property owner, but on a second look something didn't seem quite right about the man. Colbert decided to stay with Hickham for a bit, until the man's intentions were clear.

The stranger approached by a direct route, smiling, his attention on the two men. He seemed oblivious to the battle going on nearby.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he called out, in a proper, upper-class English accent. "What a fine day..."

Colbert's hackles rose. A glance at his boss showed that he was also alarmed.

"What do you want, here?" said Hickham, his tone harsh.

"I have a deal to offer you."

"How did you..."

"Please," said the man, waving away Hickham's question with a casual gesture. "I was here long before this little altercation began."

"He's..." said Colbert, terrified and not afraid to show it.

"Yeah," said Hickman, in a growl. "You. Speak your piece. Then begone."

"You don't think you'll be tempted?" said the man, amused.

"Not by anything you have to offer."

"What about a long, healthy life?" said the demon. "Time to finish your work?"

"D'you think I'm some shallow bint?!" said Hickham, outraged. "You'd turn everything I did 'round to do the opposite of what I want!"

The stranger actually seemed surprised.

"My, I didn't think you had such scruples. Or such wisdom." He squinted at Hickham, and looked a bit surprised. "There's more than that at work, though, isn't there?"

"My soul already belongs to Britain!" snapped Hickham. "Now go. You won't find anyone here foolish enough to yield to your wiles."

"Well, your loss, not mine," said the man, with a sinister smile, "there are many other people in Britain."

* * *

The Battle of the Henge was neither quick nor easy, but the defenders won with no fatalities on their side. Many were injured, but they would recover. Their unexpected allies briefly celebrated with them. Then both parties tiredly headed back to their vehicles. However, a shout from nearby made them hurry as well as their tired legs could carry them to where a large figure lay all too still. Beside Hickham was Colbert, kneeling on the damp grass, weeping and babbling incoherently.

Part Twelve

"Are you sure you don't need me there?" said Energia, when she was finally able to get through to the island.

"Yes," said Template, firmly. "We have plenty of volunteers here with more coming in. Repairs are being made and defenses reinforced. What we need now are time and money."

"Well, I can't help with those," said Energia, wistfully. "Just be sure you call me if you do need help. Or even if you don't. I'm worried about you."

"The immediate danger is over," said Template, in a reassuring tone. "We're doing all we can to prevent more danger from happening. Ugh. I'm so tired I can't talk straight."

"Go get some sleep," said Energia, firmly. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye!"

Energia closed her phone and leaned back on the couch with a sigh of relief.

"So what's going on?" said Alex, eagerly.

Energia's friends at Ramsey Technical College knew something was wrong when she got an alert over her phone late the previous evening. She had spent a mostly sleepless night in the central room of the dorm, calling some people and trying to call several others. They eventually learned that the numbers she couldn't reach were all on Pine Island. Eventually she got through to one of the numbers, and soon after the one she seemed most desperate to reach. Who these people were her friends didn't know, but it was obvious that Energia was worried about most of them and very worried about that particular one.

"Uhm, I can't give you any details," said Energia, as she looked at those surrounding the couch. "There was an attack, it's over, there's a lot of damage. Tem... My contact there said relief teams are coming in, now, and those who fought all night are being told to get a few hours sleep."

"I'm glad you were finally able to get through," said Vic.

She wondered if that one, special contact were the flying super's mother.

"I don't know how much attention you've been paying to the news, these past few hours," said Angela, golden wings held close around her as if to provide protection, "but there's been weird activity in multiple areas around the world. Some people are saying the attackers are demons."

"Demons," said Melanie, with a shudder. "What is going on with this world? Pogroms, alien attacks, now demons..."

"Well, the island folks seem to be doing okay. I just hope everyone dealing with these... things is."

"Okay," said Vic. "You need food, then sleep. I'll spread the word to your teachers you'll be missing some classes due to a crisis."

"I'm okay. I shouldn't..."

"You shouldn't risk your health by skipping meals and sleep," said Angela, firmly. "Come on; they should still be serving breakfast at the cafeteria."

* * *

Class was - of course - canceled at the Pine Island Academy for the day. As it would be for a few days to come. While casualties among the defenders were surprisingly low there had been considerable damage to the infrastructure. Of course, for a school any casualties from combat were too many.

The staff meeting later that day - after the defenders had a few hours to recuperate - was decidedly subdued.

"Nine dead," said Eve, tiredly. "Five UN members, three volunteer supers who came at our call and one of the elves. Several times that many injured to varying degrees, though most should make full recoveries. At least physically. We're already seeing several individuals exhibiting signs of mental instability symptomatic of exposure to demons."

"Is it odd that I don't find it odd that there actually are known symptoms of demon exposure?" said Template.

She was not feeling too well herself. However, Ettienne and Dr. Piano had both assured her this was the entirely temporary result of what they called "The Demon's Gaze." She had actually heard the capitalization and quotes in the phrase. Template wondered how mystics did that...

"I'm already getting calls from parents and guardians to remove their students," said Eve. "Since these are almost all in regard to students who are not really interested in pursuing careers as masks I am not currently seeing a downside. On the actual upside, the malevolent influence of the demons on our attitudes has faded."

"Experienced supers just seem to expect this sort of thing," said Junker, philosophically.

The island's mundane defenses were at full capacity, barring those personnel temporarily - or in a few cases permanently -unavailable. Replacements for the UN troops lost and injured were already on the way, as well as for their damaged equipment and the consumable resources they had expended. The elves had left as soon as the giant was confirmed to be extinguished. Template had the definite impression they were not coming back, even if the Prince of Speed so ordered. She couldn't really blame them.

"What's the status of the hydrothermal plant?" said Eve.

"Totaled," said Junker. He sighed, too tired to be angry. "All that work to get it ready early, and just before it comes on line it gets flooded by lava."

"I wish I had known that would happen," said Template, almost in tears. "I had no idea the lowering of the lava level in the caldera would cause fissures to open elsewhere and lava would come out of them. I might've... done something."

"The geologists didn't realize that, either," said Junker, patting her on the hand. "I'm not blaming you. Hell, I'm not blaming anyone. Even if I had known that would happen, I'd have said 'go ahead.' Though I would have tried to sandbag the plant, or something..."

"I think we should all be grateful things weren't any worse," said Burgundy, firmly. "Considering what Dr. Piano said could
happen... Well, despite the deaths and property damage we got off lightly."

"Try telling that to the next of kin," said Lori Savage.

"The biggest problem now is preventing the next incursion," said Eve. "Both the remaining supernaturals and Academy and UN security are working on finding whoever the collaborator is. After that, the next problem is funding for repairs."

"With most of the world still recovering from the Shilmek attack, that could be a problem," said Andrea.

There was a long silence, interrupted by Lori's com.

"'Scuse me..."

As she listened to the call, her tired expression turned to confusion, then anger, then pure rage.

"Find them! Get the remaining magic folks on it, too!"

"What?" said Eve, as Lori signed off.

"Two girls have gone missing in the past hour," said Lori, as she stood. "Talisman and Denise Bolivar. Witnesses say Talisman... did something to Denise - who is one of our 'like a human but better' types - and they went somewhere together. The other girls were afraid to stop Talisman, and by the time they managed to get a staff member no-one could find the girls."

"Talisman?!" said Eve, startled. "She doesn't have that kind of power."

"Her instructors say she has recently made a breakthrough and her magic is working much better," said Andrea. She started. "Could that mean... She's the collaborator, and is getting a boost of some sort..."

"Do you need any help?" said Template, half rising herself as Lori hurried for the door.

"I'll give you a call!"

"Best to leave this to security and the mages," said Eve.

"Meanwhile," said Junker, "I could use your help."

"All right," said Template, tiredly. "Let's get to it."

* * *

"Are they serious?" said one of the Academy security guards, quietly, as he and his partner made their way through the woods at the base of the southeast slope of the volcano. The part not currently suffering from cooling lava and steaming fumaroles. "We're looking for a witch and her sacrifice?"

"Maybe," said the other. "We don't know. If we find them we may find out. So keep your eyes and ears open."

There were trails and clearings throughout these woods, made by animals with four legs and two. As well as the occasional escaped experiment with some other number. Students and even the younger teachers sometimes came here for picnics and "picnics" as well as to just spend some time wandering through a particularly beautiful area of the island.

"We're not too far from that old underground base," said the second man. "Project Standby. Should we check there?"

"You kiddin'?! The UN has that buttoned down tight and constantly monitored."

"Does their monitoring equipment work against magic?"

"Oh. Well, we can call ahead and tell them we're checking around it."

They did that. They soon found fresh tracks leading to the "back entrance" which Template had forced.

"Okay, that's weird. Two sets of small footprints go right up to that hatch and... that's it."

"This could just be a prank," said the first guard, frowning. "Kids setting this up just to freak people out."

"Don't bet on it."

They called it in. While the first guard was talking on his radio - trying to get the UN crew to take him seriously - the second tentatively rapped his knuckles on the hatch. Or rather, tried to. His hand simply passed through it.

"Shit! It's some sort of illusion, or... I don't know. Tell them to get a whole squad here right now!"

The UN team sent two squads, one to the front entrance and one to the back. So did island security. Technically, there was supposed to be approval from UN Security Headquarters in New York before they worked with the islanders, and from the full Security Committee before anyone went into the old base. Major Colville - in charge of UN security on the island - told everyone that given the circumstances they shouldn't worry about the formalities.

"That's straight from Lady Carver."

Accompanying the island security teams were one mage each, with Dr. Piano himself going to the back door. A man in his early thirties who went by Collidor was with the front door teams.

"Hmmm, yes," Dr. Piano mused, thoughtfully, as he did arcane things the very mundane island and UN personnel tried to ignore.

He muttered to himself for about two minutes, using terms such as "transubstantiation" and "phase change transition." Finally he straightened, nodding.

"Someone cast some powerful and rather nasty spells on this within the past forty minutes."

"Is it safe to go in?"

"Yes. Now. Whoever did this was very careful to conceal their work mystically, but as the guard, there, found out they neglected all mundane protections."

Entry was made at both front and back simultaneously. The squads met in the command area, conferred briefly, then broke into balanced teams to quickly scout the base. Minutes later one of those teams reported being unable to enter the old Myrmidon hangar.

When Major Colville and his team got there with the two mages the team at the hangar doors were listening carefully, ears pressed against the cold armor.

"Sounds like a dirge," whispered one of them. "There's voices and music."

"The most secure room here, naturally," said Major Colville. "Right. Get those doors open!"

This required both spellcraft and brute force. However, none of those seeking entry were inclined to be delicate about their work, and they were soon heaving the doors open. Inside the room was lit by multiple candles. In the center of the room Denise Bolivar lay naked and covered in blood-red runes in a likewise colored pentagram. Nearby, Talisman sat on the floor, reading frantically from a scroll.

"Get the lights on!" shouted Dr. Piano, before he and the other mage began quickly casting spells.

There were shouted incantations and gestures from the three mages, and flares of arcane light back and forth. Soon, though, experience and numbers prevailed over the empowered but young Talisman, and she collapsed.

"Don't approach them!" said Dr. Piano, striding boldly forward.

He and Collidor halted a short distance away from Talisman. With the lights on the others could see that she was also surrounded by a diagram, of chalk or perhaps white paint. The voices and music turned out to be coming from a boom box. The two men worked at some arcane task for a few moments, then Dr. Piano deliberately broke the protective circle around Talisman by scuffing part of it with his shoe.

"Get her out of here!" said Dr. Piano, as he shut the noise off.

While some of the security personnel carried the unconscious girl away, the mages began work on the pentagram. This took far longer than the protective circle, but after several obviously stressful minutes Dr. Piano again scuffed the chalk.

"She's alive!" he called out, as more security personnel hurried over.

Dr. Piano covered the young teen with his coat, and the medic from the UN team began working on her.

"I need to get her to proper facilities soonest!" he declared after a brief examination.

"Go," said Major Colville. "Take a couple of men to help you get her to my transport and use that. The rest of you, guard the entrance to this room."