Chapter 29: In the Chopper

Eliza

October 29, 1786, Realm Timeline, Southern Slovakia

Surprisingly, Tristan replied to her chat call immediately. They found him near a forest, together with two prisoners, one of whom was a Thrall. Despite common sense and protocol, Sandra turned the engines off and rushed to hug her 'babe.'

For her part, Eliza busied herself patching up the second prisoner, a Transylvanian German, struggling to remember the few first-aid skills she had. The man fell asleep a minute after she gave him pain-relief medication, and the helicopter took off soon after.

Once in the air, Tristan launched into a flourish of a rant, describing his adventures in hyperbole, gesturing vividly, and making sound effects. It was funny, but considering what she had read in the log, about hundreds of Tatars killed, it was also impressive.

The kid got lucky... Or maybe not... He's level twenty-two, after all.

Cutting his story short, Eliza gestured toward the luggage Tristan and his companions had brought. "Are those guns?"

"Yeah, Earth rifles," the Thrall said, unzipping one of the long bags. "This one's the best; it was the captain's weapon. They left it behind because getting it would have exposed them to our fire. High caliber, could take down a tank. Dunno how it's called, but it's nice. Army issue, most likely. Or special forces."

"This means he was an Outworlder," Tristan said.

"We don't know for sure," the Thrall said. "We assume he was, because of the gun. The rest weren't, and they had similar weaponry."

"Call Sam," Eliza said into her phone.

"You have a signal?" Dorian asked.

"Yes. They destroyed two communication towers, but we switched to drones. They relay the signal from the air and rotate when they get out of gas. And have a longer signal range."

"What if they shot them down?" Tristan asked

"Drones fly like seven miles high; they're impossible to hit," Sandra said.

"Hey, Liz," Sam's voice said from the phone's speaker. "What's up?"

"I found Tristan. He's... brace yourself... Level twenty-two. Dorian's with him."

"Is he alive?" Sam asked almost at the same time. "Sorry, I'm so tired, my mouth speaks on its own. Really? Twenty-two?"

"Boss is good at killing people," Dorian said. "Like really good."

"Just got lucky," Tristan said.

"They have a prisoner, a Transylvanian German marksman," Eliza said.

"What was he doing in a Tatar raid?"

"There was a platoon or two brought from Brassov to join a special mission, but their officer got killed, and they ran," Tristan said.

"He promised to tell us everything he knows about their army if we save his life. I can't tell, but he might have a bullet in his spine," Eliza said. "I gave him some ketamine."

"Sandra, get them to the base. Bratislava's hospital is overwhelmed," Sam said.

"Roger, Sam."

"How bad is it?" Eliza asked. "Please don't sugarcoat it."

"Bad. Too soon to know, but the estimates are about two thousand dead. The only good thing is the fires were confined to one neighborhood and put out very quickly, thanks to the water pipes we installed. But it was hard; many firemen were lost to collapsing buildings and our own nerve gas."

"Fuck!"

"How did they manage to enter Pressburg unimpeached?" Tristan asked.

"It's the least defended of our cities. We're focusing our troops on Krakow and Prague. And the walls have been all but removed, in larger part due to the extensions we built."

"If not for Little John, the damage would have been much worse," Eliza said, slumping in her chair. The memory of the burning city returned. A nightmare.

"They'll split into smaller groups, trying to run away," Tristan said.

"All the Bounty Hunters and the Dragoons in the area are on the task," Sam said. "We're hunting them with infrared vision and snipers. Reports say at least two or three hundred Tatars were killed in the last two hours."

"We noticed an obscuration device on some troops," Tristan said.

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"I'll pass the word. Sam ou—

"Wait!" Tristan blurted.

"Anything else?"

"I had to split my team. Do you have any news about them?"

"Ah, sorry... So tired. Yes. The girl, Isolde, reached an outpost with a working landline. She told us about the rest of the team, and we'll try to pick them up first thing tomorrow."

"There are still Tatars in the woods around the crossing point," Tristan said.

"We'll sort it out. Sam out."

"Sort it out, how?" Tristan asked, but the call cut off abruptly.

"Probably ask the Council to send someone competent," Eliza said.

"I don't understand? Is Sam your leader or not?"

"Hahaha! That's precious." Dorian burst into laughter, only to slap his mouth a second later. "Sorry, boss."

"What's so funny?"

"Where did you get the idea Sam's our leader?"

"He's always bossing you around, and—"

"He does, doesn't he?" Eliza growled, remembering many such instances from their marriage.

"And he seems in charge of stuff. He's your Envoy; he accompanied the Emperor to Vienna, etcetera."

"Sam's not our boss. He hates responsibilities. He's one of the laziest people I know," Dorian said.

"On the other hand, he's often put in charge of things, because he has a brilliant mind," Eliza said. "He single-handedly saved us all."

"Meaning?"

"Fine. Story time," Eliza said. "One day, after the first war and before the portal destabilized, we were having a drink in Prague with the Quantum science team. One of them started complaining about how hard it was understanding magic. How could one control electrons or photons with thought, or make a piece of wood harder than iron?

"Sam jokes: 'Just put a label with Quantum stuff on it, and it will work.' Then pauses, eyes widened, and goes on: 'Hey, I have an idea! What if we do just that? We hire local enchanters and teach them to use CNCs.'

"And, go figure, it worked. This, for instance," Eliza showed them her phone, "has a self-rechargeable Mana battery that never runs out of juice."

"Never means ten years," Dorian says. "It's still huge."

"What's a CNC?" Tristan asked.

"Autonomous crafting machines that can make components for everything, if you teach them right," Dorian said.

"And it gets better," Eliza said. "A year ago, Sam came up with the idea to use the the EUV machine to make small magical nano bots."

"EUVs are like the CNCs, right?" Janosh asked.

"Much more complex. They do very tiny stuff," Dorian said.

"Within the year, they managed to create the Interface. And here we are," Eliza pointed at herself, then at Tristan.

"I see... Sam is like Leonardo da Vinci," Tristan said.

"Except the painting," Eliza said.

"And the science. He has an idea, then other people do the work for him," Dorian said. "Typical game designer."

"I see movement," Sandra said all of a sudden. "Tatars. Lots of them."

"Where?" Eliza asked, taking off her seat belt and leaning forward to look over the pilot's shoulder. There was a sizeable group of riders in front of the chopper. "Why are they going north? Are they lost?"

"They're going toward Trnava!" Sandra said. "Call Sam."

"On it," Eliza said. This time, she pressed the contact instead of using the voice command.

"What now?" Sam's voice asked.

"Don't you what now me!" Eliza snapped, remembering Sam had been a lousy husband, always more preoccupied with his ideas and games than with their marriage.

And despite that, I still have feelings for him...

"Sorry, Liz... Really tired."

"We're looking at a bunch of Tatars going toward Trnava, fifteen miles to target," Eliza said. "What's in Trnava worth a raid?"

"Nothing," Sam said. "Maybe they're lost."

"Tatars do not get lost," Tristan said.

"How many?"

"Dunno, Sam, I'm not a bloody counting machine!"

"It's a Chambul," Tristan said. "Anywhere between one and three thousand."

"Beats me," Sam said. "I'll pass the news."

"Do you have any forces there?" Tristan asked.

"I don't know, kid. Not my turf. I'll ask and—"

"Hi all. Penny here. Sorry for barging in, but I know the numbers. Maybe two hundred local guards, with muskets. Plus some Bounty Hunters. Not many, it's a peaceful area."

Penelope's sweet voice grated on Eliza's nerves worse than fingernails on a chalkboard, and she balled her fists.

"How long before they reach the town?" Sam asked.

"Two hours at the most, if they stop for sightseeing," Tristan said. "More likely one, one and a half."

"Oh, no!" Sam yelled. "It makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Eliza asked.

"It's a railway hub. The railroad goes to Zilina, and it will go to Krakow next year."

"They want to destroy the railway hub?" Tristan asked.

"Y-yeah? Probably? But why? Why would they destroy a secondary line, instead of taking out the ones to Brno and Prague?"

"There must be a hidden reason," the Thrall said. "We forgot something."

"Did we?" Tristan furrowed his brow.

"Yeah. The Kingling's French advisor. He must be the one behind all this."

"And who's that?" Sam asked.

"Napo—"

"You're kidding me!" Sam screamed. "Napoleon?"

"He must be just a kid," Eliza said.

"Not necessarily," Dorian said. "There are differences between the Realm and Earth. Joseph the Second is three years older, and he remarried for a third time."

"We're screwed," Sam whispered.

"I trust you, Sam," Eliza said. "If someone can figure out Napoleon's plan, it's you."

"I already figured it out," Sam said, and Eliza could tell by the tone in his voice that he was sagging his shoulders, depressed.

"And?"

"What if they don't want to destroy the railway, but to take control of it? This is a multipronged assault. It was brought to my attention there's a Polish army preparing to attack Krakow. Imagine they go for Zilina instead and move their troops forward using our own railway. They could attack Bratislava while it's vulnerable and destroy it for good."

"But why? Our base is near Brno," Sandra said.

"Well, it's Napoleon we're talking about," the Thrall said. "He must have a clever motive."

"And there's worse," Sam continued. "There are many Moravian Vlachs in Trnava. They hate the Kingling. If they die, the Kingling eliminates the competition. If they survive, but the town is destroyed, he'll tell them: look how well the Outworlders protected you. Join me instead."

"You talk too much," Tristan said. "Trnava is the town we left behind a minute ago, right?"

"Yes," Sandra said. "It's not far from where we picked you up."

"Turn around, let me down. I'll organize the defense. We'll show this Napoleon how Austrians fight."

"Actually, you'll be the only Austrian fighting, boss," Dorian said. "We're in the Slovakian Protectorate."

"You have to hold till the morning, at least," Penelope said. "There's no way we can direct any reinforcements before, and the choppers need gas that's still in the refinery."

"Easy. Dorian will wipe them out with his AOE."

"The damage discharge has a monthly cooldown, and the more people are involved, the lower the damage," Dorian said.

"Then we'll kill them the old-fashioned way. One by one."

"Understood. I'll call the local garrison and let them know you're in charge," Penelope said in a hurry.

"What she says," Sam blurted. "Have to go. Best luck. Sam out."

"Hey, don't you dare— Fuck! The bastard turned off his phone!" Eliza yelled. "What's wrong with him?"