“Catching up”

©2014 PiR8 Productions and Tom Tinney

Any resemblance to people, living, dead, or undead, is PURELY coincidental. Seriously…this is not about you!

Jarlath and Sgt. Pike jogged out of the bunker, talking about where to put up the mana-roof and how they’d proceed. The blanket moved back and forth with a small breeze and then stopped. Jarlath had put the mana-barrier in place.

John pulled the Ag Caint Cloch out of its velvet bag, using his gloved hand to tap on the facets of the blue sapphire-like stone. The stone was three inches in diameter. He touched the surfaces that would connect him with Nikola.

He waited for a response, looking around the well-appointed field quarters of the now shamed Captain Branson. A hole in the war-torn ground with a lot of opulence. With the hardships of service and scarcity of goods on the front line, the man had accumulated quite a few creature comforts. A phonograph, invented by Draoidhae Thomas when he was still using his surname, Edison. A radio, invented by Draoidhae Guglielmo when he still used his surname, Marconi. Even a tin of peanut butter. Draoidhae Carver would’ve loved that. The dark-skinned Carver had foregone the use of his first name, since Draoidhae Georg was in the group. He seemed to be perfectly happy being known as Draoidhae Carver.

Thirteen of them. The human Draoidhae, Sidhe for “Honored Mage”. An unlucky number, in some cultures, but one that was burning its way into the Earthen realm history books.

Since June 29^th, 1908, they were the most powerful men and women on the planet. Nikola, being the first through the portal, was even more powerful than the combined might of four or five Sidhe mages and at least three of his human counterparts. The rest of the humans were on par with their Sidhe counterparts. With that power came a self-imposed responsibility to manage their newfound abilities and control access to the mana-rich realm of the Sidhe. Nikola built the first Mana-barrier on Earth to accomplish that task.

“John? John, are you there?” a female voice said through the stone. John looked at the stone, it’s hue now a dull amber. Margreet.

“Yes, I’m here, Mata Hari, what do you want?” he asked, a smile on his lips.

There was a distinct pause before Margreet’s reply.

“It’s Ban-Draoidhae Margreet to you.”

“Really? Are we going formal? I must’ve missed the Draoidhae that I’m due. Why don’t we meet and you can tell me why I should give you that respectful title? Bring Günther so we can catch-up.”

“Ooh, Johnny-boy, that was a nasty thing you did. You scared poor Günther half to death.”

“I like him. Tell him I wish him no ill. I’m sure you’ll console him,” John said, reaching for the teapot and pouring the brew into a waiting cup.

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry,” Margreet replied, her voice oozing excitement. “But it’s you I dream about, Johnnie-boy. I dream about your head on a platter and Memsahib Nicky being blue about the loss of his punkahwala.”

It took John a moment to put the reference in perspective.

“Why, Mata Hari, your time pretending to be an exotic Indian dancer is showing. I thought you were leaving that Dance of the Seven Veils persona behind. Once a dance hall girl, always a dance hall girl, eh? Hard to get away from your primary skillset, I guess.”

The continuous stream of cursing that came from the stone was vivid and vicious. He’d touched an old nerve. His smile grew as he sipped his tea.

“Wow, such a pretty mouth to say such naughty things. Margreet, can’t we be friends?”

“Friends? I can’t wait to give you one last kiss and hug you to death.”

“Not a good idea, Dear. I tend to have a bad effect on you mana-filled.”

“Don’t you worry, Johnny-boy, I have a place on my dance card just for you. I’ve got something special planned. You like to take chances, Johnnie-boy. Your behavior could get your Sidhe sidekick hurt, ever think about that?””

“If he dies, you die.” John said with a flat, deadly serious tone.

“I’m not threatening him, Johnnie,” Margreet said, her voice oozing innocence. “But this is war and bad things happen all of the time.”

“I’d love to chew the rag with you all day, Mattie, but I’ve got things to do, including bringing you and Georg to heel. Oh, and while I’m at it, put an end to this ridiculous war, so if you don’t mind, I’ll let you get back to wiggling your hips and taking off your clothes to get what you want—.”

John tapped the stone and cut her off before another stream of obscenities could be flung. He repeated his previous sequence and waited for Nikola to respond.

Margreet was not an arm candy dame. She was dangerous, smart, and a survivor. Cold, calculating, and out to prove herself better than the men she used to serve in that former life. She wanted the name “Mata Hari” to be uttered in fearful whispers. Antagonizing her was more than just getting under her skin. John meant to have her focus on him, so she wouldn’t focus on helping Georg do more damage.

John genuinely missed Georg, and the rest of the Luger family. He’d grown to appreciate the man’s genius and love of his wife, children and grandchildren. Meals with the Luger family were always an adventure in conversation and the food was always delicious. Georg had already lost one son to the war. John needed to stop him before he lost another.

A mechanical genius and self-made industrialist, Georg had been so excited when he’d finally crossed the threshold into the Ruitheanas-Sidhe realm. Like some others in the group, he was monetarily or politically powerful before the trip through the opening filled them with mana. Some were intellectually empowered. Some had been all three and their names were known the world over. Nikola, Thomas, Georg, Alexander, Guglielmo and Henry came to mind.

Others were known to Nikola for their ingenuity and cleverness, like Carver for his work with peanuts and biology. Robert was the second man through the opening, excited and curious, his toy rockets momentarily forgotten. The Russian inventor Hovannes was include because Nickola was intrigued by his idea about transmitting color images through the air. They’d all been transported to the lab in New York by Nikola’s newest toy. The event a show of prowess to demonstrate the device.

The other Draoidhae were a mixed bag of earthly talents. Nikola had known some by reputation alone, like Ida’s experiments electrically stimulating of cells. Nellie had been summoned away from her suffrage efforts, to attend that faithful meeting, so Nickola could show her that the future she sought would be one for men and women alike. Of course, Margreet had been invited out of Nikola’s vanity. He wanted to impress a pretty girl.

John was none of those things. A young man and adventurer. He arrived at Nikola’s doorstep answering a placement to be an assistant manservant, bodyguard and provide physical labor in Nikola’s lab. HE risen to be Tesla’s personal bodyguard and steward.

It had been going so well.

That night in 1908, Nikola’s Volt Hammer machine thrummed, crackled, and banged, emitting a huge charge, and then a person sat on the pad. Alexander was the first. He didn’t even look up until he realized the telephone he had been playing with was no longer responding.

“Oh, is our meeting tonight?” he’d asked.

Eleven people Nikola summoned by making sure they were in a specific place at a specific time. He, or his minions, had already placed his coils at each location. The hardest to place had been the one in Thomas’s lab. Nikola hadn’t invited him, so much as summoned him. Their rivalry had taken on legendary proportions.

John smiled at the memory of Thomas, sitting in his chair, looking annoyed, and startled, as his chair-side lamp extinguished, it’s cord cut during transport. He grunted when he realized he was no longer in his lab.

Everyone laughed, and not one to be made of fool of, Thomas seized that moment to tell Nikola his invention was “a great little toy that lacks any practical application.”

“That’s a nice trick, Nikola,” Thomas said that night. “Now I know what the coils in that box were. As long as you can get one of your gadgets to the destination, you can drag others here, but what about when you can’t?”

John felt a pang of anger at that memory. Nikola had snuck a locator into Edison’s lab and transported him instantaneously from Menlo park, NJ to Tesla’s own lab in Wardenclyffe. Thomas had remained seated in his chair, refusing to give Nikola any indication he was impressed.

“It can give me access to other locations, but the coils make it more accurate. As you can now attest too. Don’t want to open up in a structural beam or wall, weakening it.”

“If you really want to prove that thing is worth its weight in scrap metal, you’ll let us see somewhere nobody else has seen.”

“Like where? The top of Everest?” Nikola had asked, too eager to show his nemesis he’d been bested.

“The moon,” Edison had replied.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Contrary to Mr. Verne’s fantasy, there is most likely no atmosphere. Robert?” Tesla stated, turning to young Robert Goddard.

“I agree,” young Goddard had replied. “Even if I built a rocket large enough to get us there, we would still have to figure out how to breath.”

“So, Thomas, no, that could kill us all.”

That had gotten everybody’s attention. The reverie of the Volt-hammer bringing them to the lab ended as the conversation between Nikola and Thomas had taken a serious turn.

“Mars then? It looks to have a more stable atmosphere. Care to comment, Mr. Goddard?”

“Not my field, but most likely better than the moon,” the young man, that would become Draoidhae Robert, answered.

John sighed at the memory.

He remembered Tesla jumping to the controls and winding the Volt-hammer back up. It made the loudest crackles John had heard it make. A sonic compression that filled the lab. Lightning flew and the hair on everyone’s head stood.

Then the fissure appeared, and grew to fill a wall in the lab. The entire group looked through it at a beautiful landscape of trees, green grass and blue sky. And a giant stag.

“Well, Nikola, show us that you did it,” Thomas pushed.

That’s when Nikola strode through the portal and changed all of their lives.

John snapped out of his mental wandering.

The Ag Caint Cloch glowed, but remained a beautiful blue. Nikola.

“Hello, John, are you well?” Nikola’s voice asked, concern in his tone. “Reports came in that there was activity near you.”

“Activity? Is that what they call a hundred artillery shells dropping in the space of a baseball diamond?”

“Based on that description, it does seem to lack nuance,” Nikola replied.

“Then yes, there was activity. But, I’m fine. A little muddy and a few scrapes, but nothing to fret about, sir.”

“We’re about to have scout teams push your way. Don’t want any surprises if we need to move things around a bit. Based on shifting lines, we may need to re-evaluate the deployment. Do you think you were the reason the location was thoroughly shelled?”

“Thoroughly and accurately, Sir. Margreet was up to her old tricks. She had us dead to rights. She’s since expressed her regrets.”

“Wicked, wicked girl,” Nikola replied. “We’re going to have to do something about her and Georg.”

“Georg’s personal loss’ and his loyalty to the Kaiser are the problems,” John replied. “Until that man starts to consider the consequences of continuing, there’ll be no end to this.”

“Agreed. Now that Thomas and Henry no longer provide material support, as neutrals, Georg will have to spend more time conjuring the basics, maybe less time innovating and strategizing.”

“How did you get Thomas to stop? Henry seemed reasonable, but Thomas was adamant that he wouldn’t be told what to do.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me or the rest of the Draoidhae. But the call from the President Wilson convinced him to scale back his efforts.”

“After this is said and done, we need to get something in place. Maybe not your hard and fast council, but something. There are twelve supremely powerful people on this planet and there has to be some guidance and consequences if they don’t behave. People are going to figure out that it wouldn’t take much for the Draoidhae to take over the entire planet.”

“First, there are thirteen powerful people, but only twelve can create things. One can stop us outright. You.”

“Sir—Nikola”, John said, in a pleading tone, “I never want to be put in a position where I have to choose humanity over you. Please work on something to end the madness.”

“We are, John. We’ll figure this out.”

“Good,” John said, relief in his voice. “How goes the rest of the planning?”

“Good. We’re getting ready in New York and I think we can dry up their war materials, including mana.”

“How’re you going to do that?”

“That’s where you and the Sidhe Draoidhae come in.”

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